#(which i now doubt the validity of honestly)

[eloise-t-g]

long post ahead. i wanted to respond to some of the things i've seen people saying about the watcher situation. i honestly just needed to get some of this stuff off my chest lmao.

"sorry, the bridge has been burnt and i can no longer support watcher" - valid.

"i'm happy with this compromise and will continue to watch their content" - valid.

"oh so they apologise, change nothing, and now people are happy to give them money?" - things have changed. they compromised and completely changed their plan for the new website. did you not watch the update video? they're also issuing refunds to anyone who wants one.

"i bet people who over-reacted feel real stupid now!" - some people over-reacted, but a lot of people had valid criticisms and concerns. they shouldn't feel stupid if they expressed it in a non-abusive way.

"yay, we successfully bullied them into changing their minds!" - you're ... you're proud that you bullied someone? this isn't fucking elon musk or jeff bezos. these guys aren't multibillionaires exploiting their employees. these are three youtubers who want to pay themselves and their employees a living wage, while making content they're proud of, and they made a simple fucking mistake. stop throwing around the term 'eat the rich' as though it applies here.

"the apology video is clearly PR!" - yes, watcher is a business. this is how a business responds to situations like this. they had abuse hurled at them for 48 hours straight, they shouldn't feel bad for wanting to make sure everything said in the video was 100% agreed upon and analysed beforehand.

"steven was clearly the one behind this, he should be fired or step down!" - was he? do you know that for a fact? cause from what i saw, all three of them got in front of the camera and made the announcement video together. i agree that he should step down as CEO, but only because they clearly need someone who has actual business experience leading them (if you remember, ryan and shane stepped down a while ago because they didn't want to deal with that side of the company anymore - in the same video, they thanked steven for being the sole reason watcher was still going).

"they shouldn't have been silent the whole weekend" - maybe so, but it's clear they went into lockdown/crisis mode. also, businesses aren't open on weekends. i think it's fair that they waited until monday and took their time with it. maybe they should have tweeted something like "we're sorry and we're working on an explanation", but that just would have given people another place to attack them.

"you're all being parasocial" - i've seen this used against both people who are supporting/giving the team the benefit of the doubt, and people who are against everything. a lot of people (myself included) have used this experience to realise they were developing/had developed a parasocial relationship with these men. this is a good thing - it allows us to recognise these things and make changes within ourselves.

i think generally people are more parasocial towards youtubers than celebrities in films and tv shows. YT feels like there is a barrier removed between the creators and us; it makes us feel like we know these people in a way that we don't know actors who are always playing different roles. YT makes it easier to believe we're seeing the real people, when we really don't know them at all.

"why should i pay someone who owns a tesla?" - you don't have to. also, steven has been working consistently for years. it doesn't surprise me that he has enough savings for an expensive car. people are allowed to own things that you and i can't afford.

"they're embarrassed to be youtubers" - might be true, who knows. but for me it feels more like they want to be taken seriously as filmmakers/television producers, and don't feel like they can do that on YT.

"there's clearly money mismanagement going on" - i think this is likely. i personally don't know what it's like to run a business like this, which is why i've been watching videos from other youtubers who do. since they're saying they don't know where the funds are going, i'm inclined to believe watcher's budget is way off what it should be.

"why didn't they initially say they were having money troubles and might close doors?" - i can see both sides of this. i believe they should have recognised that their audience would have been more receptive to this kind of honesty. however, if you're asking people to give you money, while also saying the venture might not work out, it doesn't engender a great deal of trust. why should i pay for a 12 month sub if it's possible watcher will fold in 6? who will be around to issue me a refund then?

"we were happy with blue and yellow text on a screen!" - valid, but it's clear that they weren't. they clearly want to push themselves further creatively. on the other hand, it definitely feels like they got impatient and wanted that future creation to start now, when they don't have the funds for it. they shouldn't have tried to force their loyal audience to pay for content the audience didn't ask for.

"i don't want to fund steven, andrew, and adam flying around the world eating expensive food." - very valid. i wonder how different things would have been if this 'Worth It' revival had come around 6 months earlier. it still would have been tone deaf in a global living crisis, but i don't think people would have been this upset. what i don't understand is them doing this show if they genuinely couldn't afford it, which is the implication i got from them announcing it just before announcing the paywall.

"why don't they move their office out of LA?" - that would be incredibly expensive, especially for a company that is struggling financially. they would have to uproot their entire lives, and would probably lose a great number of their staff who don't want to/can't move. they would have to completely start over, which is something i imagine they're desperately trying to avoid.

i think the cancel culture that has grown in popularity over the internet over the last few years has led people to believe that:

they can say whatever they want online with no consequences.

people aren't allowed to make a single mistake, and should understand that when they do, it's okay to for others to spew hate and awfulness towards them.

part of me doesn't even know why i made this post, i think i just got sick of seeing the same complaints and questions lmao.

#watcher #steven lim #ryan bergara #shane madej #watcher entertainment

[britneyshakespeare]

i am like. unreasonably mad right now.

#oh like SO much madder than i need to be #tales from diana #i uninvited this guy i don't personally like very much from smth last week #i told him something TRUE tho which is that my friend who was going through a mental health crisis might not be expecting a lot #of ppl there and i was trying to keep the crowd small for his sake. FOR HIS SAKE. that was half of my anxiety tbh. #i probably would've suffered through trying to be nice and agreeable if i weren't looking out for him. he's been through the wringer lately #but it gave me a valid excuse to tell this guy i already have some problems being around that i didn't want him to show up. #but i told my OTHER friend. who WAS going. not the one going through the mental health shit. #i wasn't gonna throw the first guy under the bus so i told him hey friend 2 i uninvited that guy bc i kinda have reservations about him. #i didn't think it necessary to share my first friend's crisis (when i told the guy i dislike abt it i didnt say who it was) #(that was another reason i felt like i shouldnt invite him. bc i didnt want him to know who it was. i didnt wanna share his business) #so im telling friend 2 about the reasons i have reservations about this guy right? and friend 2 is like 'oh wow i didnt know that' #and he starts feeling differently abt him. reflecting on some stuff. it's not easy to find out someone isn't who you thought they were. #he ends up 'uninviting' him (the guy i told him i dislike) from smth we were gonna do sunday. he didn't give a reason like i did #he just said 'actually something's come up and i couldnt do that' but later that day he ends up going to the HOSPITAL right #friend 2 does. he tells the disliked guy that's why he didn't see him on sunday. but now he doesn't believe either of us uninvited him #for sincere reasons. i mean i guess friend 2 didnt. but he's doubting friend 2's health in the first place #and he fucking doubted my friend going through a MENTAL HEALTH CRISIS who i was just trying to be accommodating for. #im so mad. im so mad!!! not everything's about you dude. #i had to get that off my chest. there's more but im just so mad. im kind of fuming honestly #ive been pissed off abut this for over an hour now i can't be reasonable about it. just fucking fuck allllllll the way off.

[confused-and-dickless]

I love breathing. Love to be a part of it one day

#shitpost #vent #my lungs. hurt so very muchly #i will probably go to the hospital soon but i was prescribed meds to help first but i cant have dairy 1 hr before or 2 hrs after #i would probably just say that i need to go now but my usual childrens hospital has space issues so I'd be going to the adult hospital #its the same system or campus or whatever but i highly doubt i will be provided access to an xbox or hockey table lmao #also i need to pack up my office before i go to college so my parents can reuse the space and i dont want mom doing that for me #and i know it's irrational but my mom has had a very short temper with me lately and i am paranoid that it's because im sick #so in my head if i go to the hospital she will be mad at me. i know that is silly. but alas i am frightened #it's probably an indicator of something. yk its not normal to think your mom is mad at your for being sick. #but i dont really have another explanation as to why she seems so short with me #like usually shes the best communicator in our family (not saying much tbh) so it wouldnt make sense for her to not tell me why she was mad #unless she knew it wasnt a valid reason to be mad at me! but who knows she could just be kind of a bitch like her own mother #based on the only big fight ive ever had with her she's convinced that i exaggerate my symptoms to get my way #and for some reason she seemed to think that i hated her! which was not true until she yelled at me for having memory problems! #i dont hate my mother i am exaggerating. i dislike her at most. honestly im just ready to move out she'll be easier to deal with then #not to overshare her issues but she thinks i favor my dad a lot because he actually was the one to raise me which yeah! yeah i do #her working a lot was very important and necessary to pay for my health but that doesnt change the fact that she wasnt really there #i dont resent her for it i just wish she was aware that she'll never really make up that time. she just pretends! #anyway I've lost the energy to really care about this im watching schitts creek and i just got to literally the sweetest scene ever #so my lungs hurt and my mom is annoying but this fictional love story is going places and i am dreaming that i get a partner soon #so if you read this all the way through thank you for your concern/nosiness (whats the difference) but im all good now #this fictional romance is giving me hope for my upcoming irl college dating sim

[wolfiesmoon]

A valid excuse

Floyd x gn!reader

I have been consumed by tweel brainrot there is no turning back

Anyways here's something i thought of in 5 mins lfmaooo

You were awakened from your peaceful slumber by loud and oddly agressive knocking at the door to Ramshackle dorm.

What in the world? Who is trying to visit at this hour?

You groan, gently pushing Grim off you and slowly making your way to the door to find out who your late night visitor is.

"Finally..." Floyd mumbles when the door reveals your slouched figure. He makes a mental note of how you look in your sleepwear.

"...Floyd?" You mumble sleepily, hoping you didn't say the wrong twin's name. It's kind of hard to tell which one it is in the dark.

"You sure took your sweet time answering the door, Shrimpy." He invited himself in, casually walking past you into the lounge . Yup, it's definitely Floyd.

"Why are you here?" You yawned.

He squeezed you really hard all of a sudden, which woke you up almost instantly. You felt your bones cracking, you swear. Way more effective than an alarm clock. Or Grim.

"I had a nightmare... Can I sleep in your bed?" He pouted at you almost comically.

"That's why you came banging on my door at 2 AM?" You raised a brow at him, slightly annoyed. And besides, Floyd wasn't even your boyfriend or anything. He's just that one guy who gets really excited when he sees you for some reason. Why is he coming to you with this overly childish request? Jade works just fine.

His pout increased and he squeezed you even harder. As a warning, no doubt.

Seems there's no way out of this...

"Okay, okay- Fine-" you sounded strained due to your innability to breathe. You kinda don't want to die because of Floyd's squeezing, though it would certainly be a unique way to go.

"Yay~" he let go of you, prancing over to your bedroom like an excited child.

You followed behind him, worried that he might throw Grim out the window to make space for himself. If there's one thing you know about Floyd, it's that he's unpredictable. Not that that's a bad thing, you just don't want to end up with catlike casualty tonight.

"Ehhhh, why is Sealie all cuddled up on your bed?" he sounded offended, like someone just took his well deserved space.

"...He always is." you smile to yourself, thinking of how Grim is actually kinda like a real cat when he's all curled up by your side. You always feel the urge to pet him when he's like that.

Floyd takes a step forward (to "remove" Grim, no doubt) but you quickly pick up Grim and place him down on the rocking chair to prevent a premature death. Grim so owes you for this later.

"Here, the bed's all yours." you point to it somewhat nervously, watching his expression soften. I mean, were you seriously just going to let him sleep with you? You're honestly so tired you don't even care anymore.

He flops down on the bed unceremoniously, waiting for you to join him. As soon as you do, he hugs you tightly. "My dream was soooo bad... It was just horrible..." he mumbled into you with an overly dramatic undertone.

You still have no idea if the nightmare was just an excuse or if he actually had one. Either way, he is squeezing you right now and seems quite satisfied. You let your eyes slip closed.

"Wanna tell me what it was about?" you whisper.

"Later... I feel like squishing you forever for now..." he swung one of his lanky legs over you, sighing happily.

"You know Azul will get mad at you if you squish me forever, right? Cuz you won't show up to work..." you surrender yourself into his embrace fully, noting how smooth his arms are.

"I don't really care, to be honest...."

You suddenly felt a kiss on your cheek and you jolted slightly. Did Floyd just kiss you?

No, no. That was definitely just your imagination. You're half asleep, after all.

it's late at night as i'm proofreading this and i just got a rook card when i wanted the vil one😭😭😭😭😭😭my unluckiness knows no bounds

#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗ #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x you #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x y/n #twst x yuu #twst x mc #twst x you #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech x yuu #floyd leech x y/n #floyd x reader #floyd leech #leech brothers #floyd twisted wonderland #floyd twst

[barcaatthemoon]

peer pressure ii || lucy bronze x reader ||

the aftermath of you sneaking out to go to a party.

you were pissed as you made your way to the locker room. your fists were clenched, knocking into every corner as you rounded it. most of the team had already arrived, but you had been held up by a fight with your parents. your last fight with your parents if you had anything to do with it. from the way things had been, you doubted that they'd let you back in even if you tried to come back.

"morning kiddo," frido greeted you happily. you didn't even look up at her as you made your way over to your cubby. everybody's eyes were on you, and alexia looked like she was about ready to tell you off about your attitude when frido and ingrid pulled her back. "it's okay, i can talk to her myself."

"bon dia (y/n)," patri said loudly. she made a show of speaking loud enough to make it impossible to ignore without validating a lecture from alexia. lucy smacked the back of patri's head as she walked past, stopping right in front of you.

"let's go for a walk," lucy said. she waited for you to get your boots on before she pulled you up and out of the locker room. everybody was watching the two of you, but not all with the same expression. the team had all heard about you sneaking out to the party, but not all of them knew what had actually happened. alexia seemed to be hung up on the fact that you had drank and smoked weed, even though it was all out of your system by the time that you had been tested.

"are you going to yell at me?" you asked. lucy shook her head as she led you outside of the facility. "what did you want to talk about?"

"when's the last time you went home?" lucy asked you. you shrugged, not really sure where home was anymore. it had been a few days since your parents kicked you out of the house, but you hadn't told anybody yet. all they needed to know right now was that you were fighting with your parents. "where have you been sleeping at night?"

"my car," you mumbled. lucy's eyes widened as the realization of what you said settled in. legally, you weren't allowed to drive for another two years. the fact that you had purchased a car was really just so that you would have something when your driving lessons started next year.

"did you drive it here?" lucy asked you. you nodded, suddenly feeling like you were about to get in major trouble. "when we get back inside, give me your keys. i'll have mapi or someone take it to their place. you can't drive around, especially not here! what if you got in a wreck or something?"

"i've been careful," you mumbled. lucy sighed as she put her arm around your shoulders. "i didn't know what else to do, they told me to leave, so i did. they kicked me out, lucy, and honestly, i don't want to go back. it was one party, one fucking party!"

"hey, it's okay," lucy said as she held you in her arms. you started crying, and she immediately started to soothe you. "you can stay with me, okay?"

"yeah, not like you'd take no for an answer," you chuckled. lucy hummed in agreement, glad that you weren't fighting her on this.

…

living with lucy proved to be the best thing for you. the stress of living with your parents was lifted off of your shoulders. they hadn't wanted you as their daughter, they wanted alexia. lucy was more than content for you to be yourself. she even went as far as to tell you whenever you'd been doing well in practice, and reassuring you whenever you had an off day. it was like night and day, as was your overall attitude.

for the first time in nearly a year, you were back to being the happy kid you had been whenever you first signed with the senior team. things were great, even if you still had a lot of tension with alexia. that wasn't something that would be fixed easily, if it ever would. other than that, everything was going great, which was why you weren't surprised when it suddenly went back again.

you had never gotten a start in an el classico match before. your teammates had warned you that real liked to play it aggressively against barcelona, so you were prepared. lucy had been taking you to the gym with her, which meant that you had really built up a lot of strength in the few months that you'd been living together. their players could knock into you all that they wanted, but it didn't do much to deter you.

"hey, there's someone in the stands waiting for you," ona said as she grabbed onto your elbow. you were scared for a moment that it would be your parents. the group of spanish players at the barrier crowded around jenni helped you to relax. your parents were nowhere in sight, and jenni sent you a questioning look. she remembered meeting your parents before, and they had been huge fans of the team, never missing a game.

"jenni!" you hopped up over the barrier and straight into her arms. she hugged you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i didn't know you were visiting."

"well, that would ruin the surprise. where are your parents? i wanted to say hi." jenni looked around the friends and family section. you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, unsure of what you should say to her. "they're usually always here."

"i wouldn't know, we don't talk anymore," you muttered under your breath. you were standing close enough to jenni for her to hear you, but alexia should have been too far away. however, you could tell by the way that her face contorted that she had definitely heard you. "i don't live there anymore."

"what!" alexia exclaimed. you backed up to put some distance between the two of you, using jenni as a human shield as you did. "since when?"

"since they kicked me out. i don't want to talk about it, especially not with you of all people," you said. there was a bite to your voice that alexia hadn't heard in quite some time. you had definitely been distant with her, but it had been a long time since you had been snappy with her like that.

"after this, let's go to dinner, okay?" jenni suggested. you nodded before you raced off to shower and get changed.

…

"you know that alexia only acts like an ass because she cares about you, right?" jenni asked you. she had been trying to get you to talk about what happened, but you very obviously did not want to. "where have you been staying at?"

"lucy let me move in with her," you answered. jenni was relieved that it was someone responsible. alexia was the obvious choice, but there seemed to be some tension there that definitely hadn't been the last time jenni came to visit.

"did alexia have anything to do with you getting kicked out?" jenni asked. she was afraid of the answer, already having invited alexia to dinner. technically, it had always been her, alexia, mapi, and ingrid going out, but she had to invite you when she saw you at the game.

"not directly i guess, but it was hard living there when all they wanted was for me to be just like alexia. they thought i was too focused on things outside of football, so much so that they stopped letting me go to school. by the time i left, they only ever gave me my work whenever i asked to do something else instead," you said. jenni looked pissed as her grip tightened on the steering wheel. "i know that i shouldn't be mad at alexia, but i can't help it."

"i understand," jenni told you. she leaned over as the car came to a stop to press a kiss to your cheek. "come on, everybody's waiting for us."

"is alexia there?" you didn't even really need to ask. you knew that jenni hung out with alexia every single time that she came back to spain.

"alexia, olga, ingrid, and mapi are all there. don't worry though, i won't let alexia start anything," jenni promised. you sighed and followed her into the restaurant. almost immediately, mapi pulled you into a hug, going off about how sorry she was that she didn't know anything was up before. ingrid was quick to follow suit, but alexia stayed back, unsure of whether she was welcome to hug you or not anymore.

dinner was nice, even if it was a bit awkward because of alexia's silence. the woman was usually pretty quiet, but she had never gotten quiet like she was then. jenni, ingrid, and mapi worked on distracting you from the tension, but it didn't work. finally, olga seemed to have had enough and pushed for alexia to talk to you.

"you don't have to tell me where you're staying, but are you safe and happy?" alexia asked. you nodded, smiling a little as thought about all the things lucy now did to make sure of that. you were certain that ona had a big part in a lot of the movie and game nights that you got to frequently enjoy, as well as keeping you on your school work. you'd still graduate late because of all the things your parents let you miss, but because of lucy, you hadn't fallen too terribly behind.

"lucy takes care of me, and ona reminds her to let me have fun," you said. alexia seemed to relax a little at that, a small smile gracing her face. "i won't go back to them, no matter what you or anybody else tells me. i'd quit the team and run away before i went back."

"you are being taken care of, that's what matters. just, next time that something big happens, talk to me. i need to know these things because i'm your captain, but also because i care about you too. if you're hurting or something is bothering you, i want to know so that i can help you," alexia said. you swallowed back some tears, not having felt like alexia was truly in your corner for some time. she seemed to notice this and stood up and walked around the table. "i'm sorry that i haven't been a very good friend to you."

"it's okay, i don't make it easy," you mumbled against her shoulder.

…

you weren't sure which of the girls had texted lucy, but she greeted you at the door with open arms. you were led straight back to her bedroom, where ona was waiting with snacks and a movie loaded up. you let the two of them cuddle you, even if lucy pretended that she didn't want to.

"dinner go okay?" lucy asked as she ran her fingers through your hair.

"it went fine. alexia and i cleared things up," you told her. you knew that was what lucy really wanted to hear about. ona let out a happy hum at your news, glad that maybe things wouldn't be so awkward later on.

"that's good, you've been very mature about this," lucy complimented. you glanced up at her, absolutely beaming. lucy chuckled and shook her head as she wiped a bit of frosting from the corner of your mouth. "now, the two of you keep it down. i'm getting some well deserved rest."

"goodnight granny," you teased. lucy swatted at you, rolling her eyes as ona started laughing.

"don't encourage her," lucy grumbled.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #teen reader #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader #platonic fic

[accio-victuuri]

i was supposedly gonna address this by end of month and with my april candy round up but i think might as well do it now. only because it is being shared primarily on international platforms and i feel the need to put out this reminder. i wouldn’t even dream about controlling how one chooses to participate in this fandom but sometimes people need a wake up call.

so, there has been a video going around of GG filming Legend of Zanghai and there is a staff there that people are saying is WYB. it showed this person talking to GG while he is on standby and shooting etc. first of all, these two are notoriously good at hiding and being professional in their workplace. especially now. i doubt they will flaunt each other on set with one acting like a PA for the other. not only that, they both hate to cause any disturbance on set or have unnecessary eyes on them — much worse, gossip, so this is a no.

and in the very low chance that it is WYB or that whatever rumor we have of XX visiting XXX on set is true, the last person who should be outing their secret meetings shouldn’t be turtles. if there is one thing i really miss from the beginnings of this fandom is how much people protected them. even if at times we became obnoxious, you know that the reason is because we wanted to keep them safe. nowadays, i feel like more turtles don’t even care at all. they will show off anything to prove a point. but at what cost? seriously, how far would you go? how much disregard for their rights as human beings will you allow?

which leads me to the main problem here: sharing leaks. i personally sometimes can’t avoid it, especially on weibo cause it depends on who you follow, it will come up. or worse, the leaked videos/photos goes on hot search. xz has been very vocal against proxy shooting for this project so idk why some turtles continue to disrespect his wishes. it’s one thing to see it accidentally, but for international fans to share it and then make it out to be this “scandalous” video proof is so questionable. what makes them different from professional weibo paparazzis who out celebrity couples? who follow them in their homes and even their parents? how are they different from ss who put trackers on their cars and obsess over their personal itinerary? it’s so sus to call yourself a fan who care about them but applaud this kind of behavior. these kind of fans honestly don’t see xz and wyb as people. leave them the fuck alone. i don’t think i can stress that enough. let’s speculate all we want from the materials they willingly give us and try not to make it harder for them to live their personal lives.

i understand how material like that can make someone happy and affirmed but think about them first.

and if you are someone who needs solid video proof to support the boys and be on the bjyxszd train, then please leave this fandom now. i can tolerate alot of behaviors but never ones that endanger them like this. this need for constant validation is dangerous. it’s their relationship, not ours. they are real people and not fictional characters.

#yizhan #bjyx

[thesamoanqueen]

Onlyfans

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut.

A/N: this one-shot showed up in my mind because of John Cena and me thinking impossible possibilities.

He usually bring it with him all the time, but at home he paid no attention. He had left it on the table to go and do something when the first notification had arrived. Y/N hadn't even looked up from her laptop, too busy with the program sent from Stamford the previous evening and which she was reviewing as always before sending it back to the office. Two minutes had passed and another notification had arrived. Roman hadn't shown up then either, but when the third had been followed by a fourth, Y/N had held out her hand with a sigh. She didn't want to pry, she didn't even want to know, she justs cared about making that sound stop to work in peace and let Roman know of whoever had that urgency to talk to him.

What had appeared on the screen, however, had made her put the laptop aside without thinking twice, pushing her to get up and find out what the hell was that stuff.

She couldn't believe her eyes, it was crazy.

When she found him, he was busy with a box full of old fitness equipments, smile ready as soon as she came into his sight.

- Hey gorgeous – he greeted her and Y/N stopped to look at him, her perfect handsome man.

- Is there something you want to tell me? – she asked, holding back to give him a chance.

Roman froze completely, his gaze serious, back straight.

- whats up? – she heard him ask, pretending he didn’t know or maybe not knowing for real, Y/N at that point was not sure anymore.

- I don't know, should I?! – she immediately echoed him, refusing to prolong that game to place his phone in front of him, the message he had received still open.

Leaving aside what were their habits as a couple, habits that had never displeased either of them as far as she knew, they had established from the first moment they would discuss everything, to be open-minded and fair with their feelings. They had been on a verge of a breakup because of an unspoken nonsense, they had learned from the past and since that moment there had been nothing they hadn't shared, bad moods, doubts, problems, fears. She trusted him, she wasn't obsessed with knowing what, where or who he was with, not even knowing what revolved around him and was proposed to him before, it had never even crossed her mind. She had chosen a man, a good real man, one who wanted a family, with no fear about serious relationship and without warning now she found out an Onlyfans notification on his phone? At home? While she was there working?!

- I didn't mean to watch, there could be anything in there, whatever, but here Ro? For real? and honestly If you have a reason or not, I thought we were better than this- she said, unable to hold back any longer and immediately saw his expression change, an amused smile replacing his worried expression.

- Babygirl, slow down. We got no problem, there's nothing in there I want, trust me. I don't care about that stuff, its shit, I’d never do it when I’ve you – he winked, trying to pull her into a hug, but more he laughed more she tensed.

- ‘kay then what?!

- You know, John did it, an account… boys at work were joking, saying that I should make one too. Locker room chatter, bullshit, sometimes they still get me involved.

Surprised, she looked at him speechless, turmoil quickly slipping away, while his information created a strangely valid picture in her mind about possibilities.

John was a funny dude, strange at times and that stunt had actually made the news. She had seen some clips online, nothing R-rated as one might imagine, but she hadn't connected the two things. And she had never even thought that someone might have thought of doing it, even though she knew of Roman's fame among the fans, rumors, fantasies and the whole package on the most unlikely platforms. In some way it was her job to know what people thought about wwe’s top guy and she played with it to for promotion.

- A real onlyfans – she repeated flatly, staring at him and he gave her one of his billion dollar smiles.

- I'm quite successful, it might work – he joked and she reflexively batted her eyelashes, unable to control herself because yes, he was damn right.

People went absolutely crazy for a few well planted cameras shots, a couple of hits not so family friendly in his ring promos and that salt and pepper in his beard, a video or an entire onlyfans account would not have been simply successful, would have unleashed the apocalypse into the wrestling community. During the production phase, behind the scenes, she too had relied on certain shots, specific set-ups, because she knew they would work. There were things that she too was obsessed with despite having him as her in real life partner. If Roman would have really decided to do it, something direct, focused, if he didn't hold back…

The thought made her turn around, going back without another word.

-Y/N – Roman called her, trying to hold her, but she didn't let him do it, quickly marching towards the front door closet where she kept her purse always ready.

She knew Roman had followed her, sensing heavy footsteps behind her as she walked through the house, but when she finally started to reach for what she needed, his hand tightened around her wrist, physically stopping her from doing anything. He gave her a deadly serious look, his gaze dark as she broke free.

- Y/N it was a bad joke, ain’t gonna happen, don't take it that far – he reasoned, standing there as if no one could move him, searching her eyes.

Those brown eyes that would have made anyone's knees tremble, that had made her tremble too an infinite number of times and for the most absurd reasons, at the right times and not, everywhere, always, from the first moment, without exceptions and that now she saw slowly widen, confused, as she handed him what she had taken out of her jacquemus.

-Here – she offered, her personal credit card ready.

Roman stared at it stunned and Y/N knew she had caught him off guard, because that card never left her purse if he was around, he didn't like when it happened even though she was proudly independent he liked to play the role of her provider. With a deep breath, seeing him froze, she decided to take out the second one, adding it to the first and moving closer to slip them into his pocket.

- Let’s say you can have both, but the show is exclusive – she specified, as if they were really in a negotiation and at that last hint she felt him suddenly explode into laughter.

He throw his head back, perfect teeth showing, eyes crinkling, making every inch of his chiseled face smile.

- Someone woke up possessive – he pinched her when he was finally able to speak again and Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, letting him have that little win.

He didn’t like if someone was too close to her, if someone stared in a way or another, when they hadn't yet been in an official relationship Y/N had witnessed scenes of pure testosterone that would have made anyone run and even today he showed no signs of loosening his grip. She had found the notification of a site notoriously inclined towards certain ratings, messages with it, she hadn't worked entirely on her imagination, but were clearly details his ego ignored, too happy to have caught her.

-If your intention is to keep laughing, I'll take them back – she stopped him, stretching out her hand again to retrieve them, but as soon as she took them off, Roman grabbed her wrist.

- For you the show is free, just ask ma'am

His voice was velvetly soft, as was the touch of his thumb stroking her caramel skin. With eyes fixed on hers, she couldn't hold back a smile, seeing Roman return it immediately when he pushed her against the door.

- Then show me sir – she whispered and he twisted his head, making her giggle before lifting her up.

With legs wrapped around his hips, he carried her to the couch to place her between cushions like a precious thing, a rebellious lock hanging out of the bun. He stood there waiting, hands placed next to her, but deliberately not where he should, his whole body close, but not close enough and for a moment Y/N did nothing but admire him.

He was a charming man, the kind of man who captured attention even without anything special or fancy, he made her hands itch and her stomach flutter like the first time she had touched him and she had no longer been able to let him go. It wasn't just the appearance, but rather his attitude, his attentions, they were a drug, they were addictive and the idea of having them all to herself, having him when out there people would do anything to have a crumb of what she had, it made her feel special, in charge.

-You're playing a dangerous game – he warned her, eyes hovering over her full lips.

-Im pretty sure I can handle it – she replied, her breathing slowing as she saw him bend more.

-I know exactly what you can handle babygirl – he touched her with his nose, with that lock and Y/N felt the taste of him on her, even if Roman had kept himself at a sufficient distance not to kiss her.

From the couch, Y/N watched as he straightened up and grabbed the hem of his tank to pull it up. Her eyes went hopelessly down his body, looking in religious silence at every inch of his torso, as he undressed with unnatural calm. She watched the abs pop out even without oil to accentuate them, broad pecs, dark tattoo that stood out against tanned skin, those lines that she drew with her fingers whenever she could. And then the arms, bent to pass the shirt beyond his neck to which she used to cling, those arms that she scratched as if her very life depended on them, capable of hurting and carrying her around effortlessly, shaped by years of practice and dedication. Her pulse racing, she saw him turn to put away his shirt, showing her his broad back, his sculpted shoulders as he rolled them back to face her and let his hair down. She watched Roman run his long fingers through the messy locks, trying to fix them during that impromptu striptease in the living room, in broad daylight and anything could have happened, someone even broke into the house and Y/N would not have flinched, focused as she was on him.

He was slow, unnerving. What she would do quickly, throwing everything away, he did in slow motion, to push her desire, make her savor everything, drive her completly crazy. Every gesture seemed to require effort, every action was like a ritual, a video wouldn't have done him justice, he was directing a movie and she was the spectator unable to distract herself while his fingers loosened the knot of his shorts to make them hang on the hips. Enraptured, she followed his usually hidden v, focusing on the portion of skin he was revealing and that left no doubt about what was down there. Concentrated, she clenched her legs without hiding, heartbeat racing as he fill the space between them, a dangerous intense shadow on his eyes that made Y/N hold her breath.

- Why you so silent now sweetheart? – he asked, stopping a step away from her, looking down and Y/N raised her head, body tingling as she felt him tower above her.

-Im ejoying it… no words needed – she breathed innocently, reaching out a hand tentatively and Roman bent over once again following the wandering of fingers playing with his lace, tongue running on his lips.

- Hmm no, I think we need a reaction… feedbacks you know, for that onlyfans stuff

His voice, breathing caused another series of shocks through her, the desire to crash her mouth against him, suffocate in one of their kisses, feel his big hands ravaging her now almost unbearable. Roman locked her wrist once more, his grip hard enough to make Y/N throb where she was probably already a mess, preventing her from exploring more than she should, eyes going back into hers, digging, guiding her where he wanted, only where he let them.

-Its good – she admitted without rebelling, unable to concentrate on anything than those two brown pools that seemed to swallow her.

- Just that? – he asked, pinching her face with his hair and Y/N tilted her head, intercepting the trajectory of his lips with greed.

-More than good – she mewed, leaning forward and feeling him guide her to his erection, never breaking eye contact, avid more than ever on having her undivided attention.

- Not enough for me

Under her fingers, Y/N felt his boner awake, hard and she risked something more, a more intense touch, hoping to convince Roman to let her do something, but it lasted just a moment and he pushed her away, standing up straight again to do it himself. Y/N knew what to expect, she knew what Roman was hiding, and yet when he lowered his pants enough to release his erection and took it into his hand, Y/N couldn't hold back a gasp to the mere sigh of his delicious flesh. She saw him so proud, spit obscenely and his smile quickly turn into an arrogant grin enjoying his attentions in front of her who was now struggling to stay still.

Was the kind of show she was sure many people would sell their souls along with their houses for and that even her, despite knowing Roman's abilities, couldn't say was immune. She wasn't immune at all honestly and when he curled his mouth, carried away by the increasing euphoria, eyes still fixed on her, letting go an excited growl, Y/N jumped on her knees.

-Gawd com’here– she moaned sulkily before crashing her lips on him and Roman laughed at her kissing, his hand finally leaving his now tense erection to keep himself balanced.

-That's a feedback – he approved, watching her quickly undress beneath him.

And Y/N might have replied but her body was begging her to put an end to that game, get some relief and before Roman could decide otherwise just for playing around, she pulled him better on top, wedging his brawny body between her thighs. With one hand on his dark locks and the other feeling his cock, she slowly bit his lip asking with pleading eyes and he pushed himself into her palm, tongue ready to invade her mouth. She moaned against him, letting him move his hips, enveloped in the heat of him, in that tantalizing smell of his skin, lost in the exquisite taste of his mouth, until she heard Roman growl and only then she guided him where wanted. None had touched her, neither him nor herself and yet she felt him slip between her juicy folds with ease, in a feral curse that made her cry and pushed him to bite her neck. Holding her hip he enstablished a pace to fuck her opposite of his striptease, messy, rough, domineering, every thrust crushed her down, nailing her mercilessly and making her sweatin agony.

Sometimes she felt like she was a toy in his hands, but she liked that kind of treatment, more when they had already wasted enough time with other games and the thought of someone else wanting that attention was still in the back of her head. She ran her nails down his forearms, marking him, holding on with ragged breath, gasping with mouth open, as he grunted into the crook of her neck, sinking into her dripping pussy in a concert of obscene sounds. And in the throes of her ecstacy, Y/N made her hands roam over his massive back, over his strong neck, even over his ass contracted in the effort to pound her wildly.

She felt a well known fire building suddenly in the bottom of her belly, uncontrollably, like a wave of pure bliss when Roman pushed himself deeper, lifting without mercy her thigh over his shoulder to get a better angle, his balls slapping against her soft skin and she squirmed crying in pleasure. His grip became more possessive, almost to prevent her from run, even though she was now just a weeping mess, folds pulsing and gripping around his dick, heat growing for what was now a marvelous attack until the delirium reached her head.

- R-Roo… ple-aase…

- Ssh come for me… let it go, you wanted it cmon good girl -

One stroke and another, on that sweet lovely spot, his skin rubbing against her hot clit and Y/N closed her eyes, curling beneath him, her mind white, blank and ì mouth open without a sound to leave her soul. She felt him leave a sweaty kiss on her cheek, continue tenaciously to prolong her sensation and also lift her other leg, aiming it in a shameful, vulgar position to conquer his climax now. Stunned by her orgasm, she watched him with passionate eyes, his expression focused, body tense and furious in the last effort and Y/N placed her forehead against his, holding him in place, tightening with a sob around his cock, folds trembling. With all his weight pinning her down, he willingly went for a couple of thrusts, deep, rough, his breathing more and more heavy until it was enough for him too and Y/N pulled him against her neck, feeling every muscle of his thick body tense and his cock twitching until it fills her up.

As always, he got stuck inside her, refusing to come out until he stopped jerking, hands gripping her soft hips tenaciously to keep her in place and only when nothing was left anymore, he freed her, collapsing though against the couch headboard to pull her against him in a sweaty hug, while they caught both their breath. They probably should have rushed to take a shower, but Y/N wasn't in a hurry and he didn't seem to be either, leaving a trail of kisses on her shoulder.

- I was thinking… - she began, sore but with her fingers tracing his arm anyway.

- Gimme ten minutes and we'll do another live

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[island-in-the-shadows]

On Felix Catton & Disgust/Desire

I had been waiting for a long while now to write this post. I wanted to do another full re-watch before I got into it because the ideas for this have been sitting in my mind for a long time. This is going to be a long post and, hopefully, not super pretentious. Most of us fans of Saltburn know, to some degree or another, that the core themes of the film revolve around disgust, desire, and obsession. And the biggest entry point to discuss this is the actions of our protagonist, Oliver Quick re the object of his disgust/desire/obsession Felix Catton.

I've written before that I believe that Oliver did know Felix and that Felix was emotionally vulnerable and candid with Oliver. I further stated that we, the audience, are forbidden from knowing the details of this intimacy because Oliver does not want us to truly know Felix. This means that the bits we get of Felix are small and very subtle. It means that we can interpret Felix's core personality, true intent, true desires in a litany of ways. My opinion is, realistically, no more valid than anyone else's. But for today, I wanted to discuss what I view, from the bits that we get, is Felix's relation with the core themes of the film. And, because I saw a truly heinous takes about a different fandom I'm in and I don't want to think about it, my brain said: hey...let's talk about Felix Catton and his disgust and desire.

Pt. 1: "Only rich people can afford to be this filthy."

When Oliver says the above, he and Felix are in Felix's messy and disgusting dorm room at Oxford. When you take a closer look at the room (which I admit was difficult on my first few views because Felix is lit and positioned to take all of your focus), it is a total shit show. There's clothes everywhere, empty containers everywhere, other unidentifiable debris...honestly wouldn't shock me if there was some used condom somewhere. We know from Oliver that, not only does it look like chaos, it smells terrible. However, Felix is unbothered. He is concerned only with the heat which, in this case, is an external force that he cannot control no matter his good looks, his charms, his pedigree, or his money. By what we see, Felix is quite happy and content in the filth. It is only when Oliver points out the filth and points out that Felix won't take care of it, that Felix reacts negatively.

Felix, as we know, is very accustomed to his messes being cleaned up for him. Before we even get to Saltburn it's a safe assumption to make. Prior to college/uni, he would've gone to some posh boarding school or other. I doubt that they were made to clean everything in boarding school (though if any of you know please let me know). We also know that wealthy people tend to have hired staff who clean for them. This is a young man who has never had to clean up his spilled milk and it has never even occurred to him to do it.

However, the important bit to note is not that Felix is messy and that it doesn't occur to him to clean. What's important to note is that the mess simply does not bother him. Just because he is born to extreme wealth and privilege does not mean that he would have to be this way. There's been germaphobe rich people or people who prefer to have a minimalistic space or any number of things. Regardless of wealth, some people are fine with mess and some people require mess to be done away with immediately. Felix is in the former category. He certainly must notice the mess at some point (even if, clearly, he's nosebleed to it) but he is comfortable in his space.

This is also true of his room at Saltburn. We barely see it, I know, but let's take a look at that glossy af pic of it from the Architectural Digest Article...

There is crap EVERYWHERE. The more you look at it the more crap you find. You can't even say that it's perfectly clean either because there's dirty clothes in spots, there's multiple pillows on the ground, there's a random used water glass, there's either toilet paper or paper towels on the night stand, the bed isn't perfectly made, I could go on. Chaos and filth and mess is, technically, Felix's natural habitat. It's the kind of mess that is surrounded by opulence, certainly, but it's still a mess.

Only rich people can afford to be this messy because they can also dictate when and where their staff cleans. Presumably, there are things in Felix's bedroom (perhaps the toilet paper/paper towels which have a...purpose) which he has instructed Duncan to leave alone. Or Elspeth has put terms for how often the maids come in the rooms. It could be framed in a multitude of ways. The point stands that Felix can exist in these chaotic and, even, disgusting spaces because he chooses to be. What his privilege does, then, is afford him absence from judgment.

We see the staff at Saltburn clean up after the party. We see that they quietly replaced a broken mirror before anyone can question the cracks. We never see the staff judge. Do they? Certainly they must, we all have opinions. But do they express their judgement to the masters of the house? No. It's not their place to do so. They are considered staff and therefore their opinions do not come into play for the Cattons nor would they want to hear them. Even Duncan's genuine unease and grief after Felix dies is mostly kept under control. He's not paid to express his emotions or his thoughts, after all.

And why go into all of this? Because Felix is content to live in the mess, to revel in the gross and in some version of the abject. What Felix cannot handle is being confronted with his pleasure. To me, this (along with wanting to separate Oliver from staff when the younger boy starts actively cleaning) is the main reason why he snaps when Oliver points out the disgusting state of the dorm. He does not need or want to know how he fits outside a specific role that he was born to play and, likely, believes he has to play. Even if it didn't occur to him to clean, he could've used his wealth and influence to find someone to clean for him. But he didn't. Because it doesn't bother him. Oliver being bothered and pointing out that Felix is so wealthy that he can live in the filth is what bothers him, instead.

Pt. 2 "Was it? Was it awful?"

I am going to keep this section short, because there have been much better posts about this and I, personally, go back and forth on this all the time. Regardless, Felix having an interest in a made up fantasy of a shitty childhood and what he can, likely, envision as some Dickensian nightmare of a situation falls into his relation to disgust and desire. What Felix knows of true poverty and addiction likely comes from media or exaggerated stories from people who have been in contact with someone who was an addict or something to that extent. His imagination must be running wild with theories. And while I do think that he did have good intentions regarding Oliver when it comes to this, his demeanour also shows an attraction to the grotty aspects of it. Oliver only ever calls him out on this, to a degree, in the maze. Before this, Felix can be interested in what he imagines is the horror of Oliver's childhood but not be caught out as being a tragedy whore or someone with a saviour complex or anything else, because his interest is not being pointed out. Again, he has an interest or desire for mess and chaos as long as it is not pointed out.

Pt. 3 "You're supposed to be here with me."

Let's, briefly, talk about queerness. Let's talk about how Felix has an image to maintain. How he has expectations put upon him. Yes, he has privilege and wealth beyond understanding, but these things often have a tradeoff. Celebrities, for example, have to forfeit a lot of their privacy. Royalty and nobility (regardless of country) often forfeit chunks of their privacy and the possibility of living outside of a script (publicly, at any rate). Felix CANNOT go off script.

He is implied to be the heir to Saltburn and everything that comes with it: money, land, title, expectations. Like in the days of old, it's probably expected of him to produce an heir. It's also expected of him to marry a lady from his class in order to produce said heir. And, back in 2006/7, people were less acceptating of LGBTQ+ people that they are now, and Same-Sex marriage was not a thing in the UK and it wouldn't be for another 7 or so years. So Farleigh, who will inherit nothing and only ever be given scraps, can embrace his queerness; Felix cannot.

Personally, I believe that Felix did have some sort of interest in Oliver. It's not just in the fact that he is possessive of Oliver to the point of disregarding his family. It's in all the Bambi eyed looks that we see Felix give Oliver. You could argue that these are exaggerations from Oliver but then, how do you explain the POV shots we get of Felix looking at Oliver? How they are also romance coded, lustful, pinky and fluffy? There is something there. To what extent there was something is pure conjecture. But, I personally believe that he had some kind of feelings for Oliver but could not express those feelings and, to an extent, found his feelings for Oliver disgusting.

Even if his mother is, in her way, tolerant of queer people, this does not mean that she would be ok with Felix being with a man. I doubt his father, who is in his 60s at the time, would be any happier about it. Again, Felix needs to have an heir and take over Saltburn. So, at most, they would've tolerated that Felix had a "friend" tucked away somewhere that Felix could go to every so often. Queerness is not the desired outcome and so, at some point, Felix would've had to separate any feelings from the matter. And, hypothetically, in boarding school any hand jobs etc. from other boys would be viewed as part of a norm that exists within the realm of "no homo."

So, given he has been emotionally intimate with Oliver and, given that he has felt more for Oliver than he probably thinks he should, he feels disgust as much as he feels desire. He can, and personally I think does, want Oliver, but feels disgusted by his feelings and has a strong desire to keep them channeled in the "appropriate" way. Just the same, he gets jealous and he does not want to share. He cannot abide by Oliver being free to pursue another partner (guarantee he would be equally as incensed if he had found out about Farleigh and it probably would've slightly registered had Oliver actually slept with Indabel). It's specifically a slap in the face that it's Venetia who has done this kind of thing before and who is allowed to be physical with these friends of Felix's with whom Felix does not feel he could or should be physically intimate. Thus, the possession and the jealousy and the spurned wife behaviour of it all.

Pt. 4 "You make my fucking blood run cold."

Bref, I think Felix had good intentions but poor thinking skills when he wanted to take Oliver to his parents' house. Multiple posts have discussed this bit and I do think he wanted to further trauma bond with Oliver the way they further trauma bonded when Oliver's dad "died", afterwards, per the script, they were "closer than ever." And then they had that intimate moment on the bridge and spent some time there completely alone instead of being at a giant party. I think he thought that the experience would bring them closer and that he would be there to, in his way, protect Oliver. And I still think this plays in to all the little ways in which Felix desires disgust and is disgusted by his desires. But he does it anyway.

The betrayal of trust and intimacy that follows has to feel like a bomb has gone off in Felix's mind. But what's worse for him, again this is solely my opinion, is that he still desires Oliver regardless. It might not have fully formed in his head and he then dulled it with drugs and alcohol and with his shoddy attempt at fucking Indabel in the maze, but possibly the inkling of why Oliver lied the way he did had entered his brain. Oliver already tried to explain. Told Felix in the hallway when they got back that he wanted to be Felix's friend. And Felix likely relived his entire relationship with Oliver including what Oliver just told him. And, to me, Felix was not entirely opposed to it. He didn't immediately kick out Oliver or cause too much of a fuss. He wanted space. He wanted to not think about it for a while. But Oliver forced his hand.

Again, here we have a Felix who is disgusted by his desire. A Felix who, deep down, knows that he likes that Oliver lied. That he likes that Oliver desires him so much that he would do anything for him. Likes that, despite NEVER wanting anyone to know the most debauched parts of him, Oliver is close to knowing all of his darkest parts and loving him for them just the same. But a Felix who, nonetheless, does not allow himself to revel in the filth once it's pointed out.

And Oliver points it out. In a big way. "Everyone puts on a show for Felix! [...] doesn't this just prove how much of a good friend I actually am? How well I actually know you!" He does know him. Felix knows this. Felix CANNOT go off script. Felix cannot acknowledge his love for things that are disgusting or less than savoury. So too he cannot allow them or acknowledge them here. And then we have something in the script vs. how Jacob actually looked that's what inspired me to write this overly long post in the first fucking place.

This is not the exact beat. Because this is after Felix says his line about his blood running cold. The vibe is the same, though. Regardless...is THAT the fact of disgust? Because to me, that is not disgust. That is some form of desire that most mortals will never experience. But then...it also IS disgust. Because the two are intertwined for him. Because he desires because of the disgust at the situation and at the lengths of debasement Oliver will go to to please him. He is a boy who loves mess and chaos and who makes his home there. And, to whatever extent, his heart could've made a home in the mess and chaos and filth that Oliver brought to the table. Even if Felix has to be disgusted at his desires and prevent them. Even if Oliver took any option or opportunity away from Felix.

Oliver makes his blood run cold, but Felix never said that was a bad thing. And it isn't. Just as Oliver revels in the filth of bodies and their fluids and the inferred possession that comes with them, so too Felix revels in the filth of places and things he shouldn't want and things he can only truly savour in the shadows where no one points them out.

TL;DR Felix is as much of a freak as Oliver is, though in a different way. He is shown to be comfortable and even like messy and gross things but, he only does so when it's not pointed out. He can be, to a point, physically close and emotionally intimate with Oliver and, even partially overlook a betrayal of this intimacy, but only if it's never pointed out. Only if it doesn't break with the expectations and social script on which he has been raised and to which he has to stick. He serves to demonstrate the relationship with disgust and desire as much as Oliver does, but his relation is more subtle and harder to see. And maybe, just maybe, given time, he would've at least bent the script.

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Super sorry for how long this is, I just needed to get it out! Thanks to @ollieapologist for being my biggest cheerleader about this post. Sorry if this is incoherent!

#saltburn #felix catton #cattonquick #super long post #just my two cents #literally I know this can be interpreted in so many ways but it's been rattling around my brain for a WHILE now #now can we get some uni prof to come grade me? lol. I think I did ok #saltburn meta

[1-49]

성찬 : Feeling every bit of this neon midnight that has filled my veins.

ᴘᴀʀɪɴɢ: jung sungchan × f!reader

❝ In which you catch the interest of a handsome stranger at the party, and he embarks on a night-long odyssey in order to validate this* awkward attraction, he strongly believes you both feel.

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: romance, some fluff, suggestive; strangers to ? slowburn one-night stand kinda?

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 13k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: +18 i drag a lot in this sry. tiny bit of pinning; real tense and awkward energy; flirting; mixed signals; sungchan is messy; in a sense, he’s both confident yet appears doubtful and insecure at times. stolen kiss ups implied hot moments/dialogue lines. few magic scenes

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: no joke im obsessed with sungchan. this has also progressively made me grow more in love with him he’s so effortlessly lovley & funny, my introvert ass could never! the energy? the personality?? like, no broo stop! i envy him sm. his way with words too...

also any feedback, reblog, or support of any kind will be appreciated. tysm, and enjoy!

A fine night, or so you thought, a showcase of stars in the sky. And while you are admiring the display of lights, in the middle of your peace, you hear the echo of an intruder ──── the sound of someone demanding to get in.

Who would be so brave? Who is willing to leave a party in order to get to you?

U let it pull u closer to the stars, this stranger’s energy that shifts the gears in your head. A stubborn being! Can’t he have a bit of patience? What could possibly be so urgent? What could he possibly be looking to discuss? As far as you know, the rave is inside, not outside.

[22:22] You wish you could describe the magnetic pull you felt just moments ago. 

[20:20] In keeping with the occasion, you took great care to make sure you felt and looked your best for your friend’s celebration. You chose a black outfit in accordance with the principle of seeking style through simple tones. Simple wide pants, a velvety sleeveless top, an open back, and some crystals hanging from your ears are enough elegancy to captivate someone. A desire for someone else’s eyes.

[22:23] Moreover, you are trying to make sense of the situation once you get to the balcony, relieved that no one is there to disturb your peace.

Sungchan’s intention, however, was never to make you uncomfortable. 

[21:45] On the other end of the room, he had already skimmed everything and everyone, not because he was that type of character, but because he was bored and new to the scene, and his inner extrovert was urging him to go find someone to befriend as soon as possible.

The options were plentiful at the scene, and the liquor in his hand resolved through his system a little faster, making him less rational in his decision. That is how your presence from the other side of the room alone helped him—some mysterious, indescribable force drawing him in.

You… 

Sungchan could not figure out why his gaze kept circling the room, passing from one person to the next but always returning to you. He rapidly became solely focused on you. The way you discuss something so profound with your friend makes him think it must be something so interesting and intriguing; the way it has you so invested in the matter undeniably gets him a little curious, secretly wishing to be in the same position your friend enjoys you. Simply put, the indulgence that you are in causes him to become greedy.

The way you smile now and then, the way your teeth graze your perfectly glazed lips, the way your earrings sway—there is just something about you that never ceases to attract his attention.

As a result, he does something about it.

You…

You notice his heated stare at you from afar and across the room—hell-bent, dense, and begging for you.

Sungchan does not immediately offer you a smile, nor does he try to be flirtatious in his gaze, but he absorbs you with such passion, concentration, and keenness that it honestly begins to make you feel super uneasy. You are having trouble reading him. 

Thus, as you start to pay more and more attention to him, things start to gradually work in his favor. This also begins to fill you with an odd sense of thrill, and before you know it, you are champing at the bit.

That tummy twirl as the eye-string between you works like a live-wire. Sungchan, lazily propped against the wall, significantly taller than anyone, and with such a pretty yet tempting set of eyes, and with the intimacy you share with him, easily begins to excite and scare you at the same time.

He possesses a spark that straddles the line between danger and enchantment. And sometimes you try to casually shift your eyesight and abandon the site, but the response you get when you return your gaze, which you always do, is that of a wounded animal.

Such a ‘casual’ face that molds into a hot one, then softens and becomes dear in a matter of minutes that whatever you two exchange quickly involuntary culminates in your breaking. Seeing him with his brows tied and slightly pouting, needy and greedy as to why you would try to wonder and abandon him even for a little, is a sight that makes your tummy clench at nothing.

You wish you were strong enough to respond to his request, whatever it is—like holding his stare until your confidence crumbles and he subdues you, or holding his stare until he is truly bored of you and can move on to the next victim.

And, because you are unprepared for any of this and are getting gagged by the space that is gradually getting more packed, you decide to dip the party in order to get some fresh air flowing through your brain.

[22:22] You are leaning over the metal rail, trying to inhale all of the lost air from earlier, and for a brief moment, you feel yourself again, relieved that you are still holding on to that sliver of confidence you promised yourself before this event even began. But the way this complete stranger was erecting himself around you had almost brought everything you had sworn to a halt.

You consider the view from the balcony to be ‘perfectly splended.’ Neon lights make love and oppose the monotonous yet sparkling dark blue sky above you on a very cold December night.

You shiver as you realize you are skin-naked against the harshness of the cold air. It is icy cold, but you are trying to ignore it for the time being. To your advantage, you try to enjoy the solitude of being alone; the tranquility of falling snow is far more appealing than the warmth of the place inside.

True, the bitter cold could not scold you out of there, so someone else had to. You are irritated when you hear the glass door slide, but you do not turn back because you know this one, whoever it is, is coming for your peace. 

A pair of hands approaches the rail, and in you sight of vision you notice the grip is somewhat firm, but you do not attempt to acknowledge this person’s presence. Not because you are cruel or ignorant, but because you simply do not feel like it right now. Someone disturbed your peace while you were seeking refuge; it is understandable to be agitated.

“Are you not freezing here?”

The ferocity with which this intruder delivers his words reveals that it is not only his hands that are strong but also his sweet, ’somewhat’ deep voice. It is enigmatic that you are not allowing yourself to be more selfish toward him; he craves your attention, and you provide it.

“I do not mind,” you say as you turn to face him and realize it is him.

“Obviously, your skin tells a different story,” he observes.

And who gave his eyes the go-ahead to roam your flesh? He is still an issue, and you can feel his gaze on you even as you try to fix yours on the scene in front of you.

Sungchan, on the other hand, is a little more confident, and from what he can tell, he still has an impact on you. Apart from the irregular breathing and chest rise, his only doubt is whether the way your skin is covered in goosebumps is due to him or the cold weather.

“I just needed a breath of fresh air. I am doing fine.”

“As you say,” he tries to give you the space you seek by shifting his gaze away from you. “Does not the cold bother you at all?”

“I suppose not. It is something I am used to.”

After a few minutes, you bring yourself to ask, breaking the little silence you two have built. Your feeble attempt at small talk, and, of course, regarding the host of the party because you can not think of anything interesting to say right now, it is as if he is taken over your mind and dumbed you down in the process.

“Are you related to Eunseok?”

“Oh,” he says, giving you his first smile, which is as bright as the light reflected off the lake’s surface and warmer and sweeter than a freshly baked apple pie. “Why? Do we look alike?” Honestly, a warm smile that could make the sun feel cold, and it is spilling out of the corners of his deep brown eyes.

Is there a length of time at which his smile should stop being your favorite sight? 

Certainly, no, but—

“Oh, no, no,” you say, backtracking in your head to see if your question was stupid. Finally, you admit, “I am just trying to make small talk.”

“I am aware of that,” he smirks triumphantly, as if he has finally won you over, because being under someone’s influence causes one to doubt and second-guess their statements, and you are doing just that, which he finds absolutely adorable.

You clearly sulk at his victory. “So?”

As a result, his smile broadens even more.

“Eunseok? Eunseok is a friend. A very close one.”

“Ah, I see,” you exhale a sigh of relief. It is even stupid, strange, and awkward that you feel this way, but you do.

“And you? Who is Eunseok to you?”

“May I say, a friend from work? We volunteer together.”

“Mhm,” he hums softly. “Strange, he has never mentioned you.”

“How can you be so certain that he hasn’t when you don’t even know what my name is?” You retort.

You are met with silence. A complete one. 

Perhaps he disliked the tone of your voice and the way you responded.

You are not sure what to make of the situation because seconds are turning into minutes and he has not said or asked anything else besides what you asked. You are worried and perplexed as to why you are still glued to being here when you could simply return inside and enter the warmth of the apartment, but you do not.

Why? What is it that keeps you here? Why are you staying out here in the cold with him?

Sungchan immediately abandons his pursuit of observing the city, the moon, and the thousand snowflakes falling from the sky when you finally turn your entire body his way. He is not interested in them anymore, if he ever was.

You unintentionally and unconsciously bring your hands together to hug yourself, not to express to him how cold you are but as a reaction to being out in the cold for too long and forgetting your coat inside. 

Your earrings flutter in the breeze, teasingly brushing against your neck and shoulders as if they were windchimes, and you are the music for him.

The wind also tangles your hair as it blows through it. Messy in the sense that your ends sometimes stick to your lipgloss and you try to ignore it. Most of his attention, however, is drawn to your delecate collar bones. And you are not wearing a bra underneath that velvet piece of whatever it is you are wearing. So the hug and squeezing on your chest only highlight your prominently hardened, sensitive spots for him.

And whether all of this divine show you are putting on is for him or not, or if it is all unintentional, Sungchan will have to figure it out on his own.

Sure, for the time being, everything is so unintentional, and he is aware of it. Sungchan understands that the cold has a big influence on how you look right now—the allure of it all—but deep down, he still believes that he, to some extent, causes it, that the cold creeps and shivers that linger on your body are brought on by him, and that it is not just the cold night.

And when he sees you like this—the neon lights reflecting off of you, the countless soft flakes landing on your face, some nestling and making a home in your hair, the way your eyes invite, and the little stars beneath them—he realizes how much he has grown dependent on you in such a short period of time.

While the neon dyes around you, he is hooked on your messy appearance. Blurred illumination and twinkling stars in the distance, but you are the star, beaming with lust in a riot of colors, or so he believes.

“Here,” he says, undressing his overdyed denim jacket in the hopes of trapping you within it—within him.

He does not even give you a chance to object. So, “thank you,” you say softly, despite the fact that you are anything but calm at the moment. His warm hands have brushed up against your arms during the process, which is a legitimate reason for your emotions to become agitated. “I did not bring mine,” you add to be more convincing. “I did not think I would be out this long.”

Sungchan grins from behind you, enjoying the intimacy the action has brought. “It is okay,” he says, brushing down the length of your now-covered arms.

His voice, words, breath, and scent rush from your hair to your ears at the same time. They are far too intimidating, but he is so smooth that it is contradictory, forcing you to disintegrate slowly. 

You are trying your hardest not to melt in his arms, but it is a difficult task. You close your eyes for a moment, cursing the thoughts that keep popping into your silly little brain, but this has been such a small gesture—a nice gesture by someone to cover someone. This is perfectly normal. This is not unusual. People frequently go out of their way to cover others who are cold. So everything is okay. This is completely fine. ‘It is fine,’ you tell yourself.

He lines up next to you once you have been wrapped in his scent.

“What is so funny?” you inquire, noticing traces of satisfaction on his face. The majority of them are smug, but it is the bite of his lips to suppress the smile and its reflection in his sweet eyes that perplexes you. He is soooo

“Nothing,” he flirts casually. His eyelid and nose bridge home these tiny, exquisite specks that wink at you, adding to his soft, angelic physiognomy. And this much is true: they are invisible to false gods, but when it comes to you, nobody is more capable of holding onto you than those moles.

“Hmph,” you murmur, cocking your brow. “All right,” you say, only increasing the smile between his bitten lips. Like this, Sungchan is quickly becoming someone who is difficult to be normal about—someone to yearn for.

Mid-eye-flirt, your eyes drop involuntarily, whether due to insecurity or not, but they do. They are on their way to examine his white cotton tee shirt, his broad chest and even longer shoulders, his venied and shivered ivory arms. His neckline too is begging for lips.

You consider his height and how your head would not even reach his shoulders if you were not wearing heels. Perhaps your high will be at his heart level, making it ideal for your ear to check on his heart palpitations. You have gotten so far in your delusion that you are wondering what it is like to kiss someone so tall.

“Sungchan,” he offers playfully, aware that he is destroying a fantasy you are creating in your head.

“Uh,” you remark. Is he reintroducing you to reality? You are extremely embarrassing. You clear your throat and respond with your name.

He begins to softly nod his head, his lips curving once more. The neon is intensifying him in the same way. He looks almost flamboyant against the soft, snowy backdrop that stretches far away.

And, should that be the case, does this signify that your two are now officially flirting?

Considering that the way he looks at you clearly has you sucked in. He wants to arouse your highs and make you fantasize about him even more. And, even if you think this is just another ‘barely even a’ fling, he is powerful and genuine, as well as strangely familiar and gently captivating.

The rest of the background fades away. You cannot feel the air or the ground beneath you; all you can feel is his gaze. Everything dissolves and energizes the ecstatic present, and your constantly rambling mind becomes thoughtless. 

By the time he breaks the intimate, soul-crushing silence again, you know you are captivated by him and you no longer want this to be a fling. This is the first time you have failed at flirting. And you know you cannot be bailed out of what is to come. In fact, 8.2 seconds of eye contact is required for love at first sight to happen. 

“Why are you here?” He asks casually, as if the minutes leading up to this point had not been too private. “Outside by yourself, I mean? You do not like it inside?” 

Now that his jacket is covering you, he has more room to investigate you, which feels like a fair trade for information. Of course, you did not ask for his jacket, and it was he who rushed with it, which is, to say the least, compromising, but here you are.

“I do not know. Not really. All I needed was some fresh air. It became too suffocating in there all at once, so I had to flee.” Given that he was the reason you left the crowded room, your smile appears phony. “It has also been a long time since I had a night out. So many people and everything... Strangely, I like it here even better. Regardless of the cold.”

“Regardless of the cold?” He teases.

“Regardless of the cold,” you say firmly.

“Mhm. I see what you mean. I can say the same thing.”

“But it is you who is freezing in the cold right now,” you say, concerned.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

If only you knew that the cold does not reach him. Being here alone with you is almost everything he does not want to lose.

Unfortunately, such a situation can only last so long. The cold, like the undefined chamisty, will eventually find its way into someone’s bones. You two are complete strangers, neither here nor there, and the atmosphere quickly becomes tense once more. It is borderline hot, cold and awkward. You are both at a loss for what to do next.

And, despite the fact that Sungchan is overjoyed to have you here, spending your precious time on him out of anyone else you could possibly be with, which undoubtedly must mean something, he is aware that he wants more of you, but how does he get there?

Perhaps someone joining you two on the balcony for a smoke can help alleviate the awkwardness that has developed between you two? However, when two more men join you to smoke on the balcony, his only concern becomes protecting you.

For whatever ‘self’ reason, he does not want you to share this space with them. Behaving in a selfish manner, he offers, “Come on, let us go inside. It’s too cold.” Because of the high likelihood that you two will part ways again, even he does not understand his thought process, but his mouth and a strong desire not to share you with anyone may be faster than his brain.

You, on the other hand, naturally accept. As if you could choose. He was the one who offered you the warmth of his jacket, and he is the one who is now freezing in his tee for you. That makes you feel guilty, but not really because his jacket carried the scent that clouded your senses. You admit that whatever you had going on was nice while it lasted.

And you do not let go of his jacket until you are both inside and you are ready to give it back to him. Again, it is not like you want to let go of it. You really do not want to, but you must.

“Thank you for not letting me freeze out there,” you say softly, handing him the overdyed piece of clothing, the dying ember in your eyes almost to the point of yearning. Half hoping he cathes upon it, half believing it is best if he doesn’t. A conflict with yourself.

“You don’t have to thank me. I am glad I could assist.” And as he gently picks it up, he becomes hesitant, as if he does not want to because he will have nothing to bargain with you for.

Sungchan feels like he has already lost you to the mass of people around him, and he feels like he is coming down to being nobody to you again. So he drags on this moment, picking up his jacket, stretching the second as much as he can, and making sure his hands have brushed and touched you irrevocably.

Time passes and the tension dissipates.

[23:13] After an hour, you are still trying to keep up with your few coworkers, who appear to be planning to call it a night and leave. You do not have much of a choice but are thinking about following their decision because Sungchan has not made any further moves towards you.

Simultaneously, this is the point at which you wish things had gone differently, and you consider many different outcomes if the dice had been rolled differently.

What if Sungchan made his move twice—once when he discovered you in the entire room and was determined to have you, and again when he got close to you on the balcony—and this time he was waiting FOR YOU to prove your true intentions and finally admit you are interested in him?

Uh, just when you thought you were going to get away from him, you find yourself wishing for more of him.

However, after witnessing you and your friends bid farewell to Eunseok, Sungchan realizes that it is now or never: lose you or have you. 

He dislikes trusting time and does not want to leave you in the future. To play the ‘if’ game. He wants you now, right now, in the present, and he will be damned if he does not tell you. As a result, he rushes to say his goodbyes, leaving you both on the same elevator.

[23:20] There is him, you, and three of your friends in the elevator, and while your friends are in the front and you are in the back, he makes sure to horn his way in to you. Fortunately for you, your friends are unaware of him and will not tease you, as no one has noticed your short romance tonight except the two strangers on the balcony. And they are also so lost in their heated debate, resulting in nothing but noise to fill the cramped four-wall space.

Even though the ride down is brief, you find yourself wishing it were longer because you cannot quite figure out Sungchan’s motifs. He is difficult to understand, in contrast to how he was at the start of the night when your gazes met across the room, when his intentions were banging on your heart’s door, eager to get in. You are not sure if the mystery he is leaving you is drawing you closer to him or making you more distant. You realize you do not want to lose him, and you tell yourself that there must be a reason he got in the same elevator with you, even if he does not say anything.

Sungchan’s fingers brush against yours at that precise moment, and he begins subtly playing, then slowly intertwining them with his, never compliantly taking your hand in his. The forbidden pleasure of the action takes the edge off—just him doing this, teasing you in front of your friends, teasing you so casually that he does not even address you. He is just doing this nervous dance as you turn to him, observing his side profile and looking for meaning in his actions, all while his gaze is fixed on the door in front of him.

So carefree, until the elevator stops and all of you exit, leaving him casually tagging behind.

And, once again, because he does not say, address, or ask you anything, and it was your friends who drove you here, it is only natural that you return to where you live with them. 

Why hasn’t he asked you whether you want to stay or go with him yet? Is he leaving the door open for you to make the next big move? Is he unaware that you are not a pursuer? Why is he putting you in this awkward position where every thought and notion ends with him?

For better or worse, you decide to work on it, telling your friends that you have forgotten your phone at Eunseok’s and will head up to look for it. And all the while they insist on waiting on you, you persuade them to leave, that you will be fine calling a taxi and that they should not worry because you may have changed your mind and will stay a little longer at the party as well.

What a scumbag lie, but it works in the end. Getting rid of them was probably one of the worst decisions made in tonight’s series, and for what? You are not even sure why.

‘What are you doing?’ ‘What the f—is this?’ You curse under your breath, despite the fact that you appear cold on the outside but are all hot and bothered on the inside. As you make your way back to the elevator entrance, a few more curses escape your lips as you wait for your friends to leave. Once they have left, you retrace your steps, noticing Sungchan standing there, checking his phone.

“What do you want!?” The request comes out a little louder than you expected. But, in your defense, you are only as direct and blunt in your candor because of his mixed signals.

Sungchan, surprised, lifts his face away from the phone, and the screen noticeably lightens and strengthens his features, giving you tunnel vision with the darkness around you and forcing you to focus on his lips whether you like it or not.

To their benefit, he adds his low and deep tone, “What do you mean, what do I want?”

“Don’t—”

Sure, one way to do this is to be playful, deny, and mislead. And he is still doing a fantastic job of it. However, you can only take so much right now. The more he complicates things, the more you want him, and the more you want your answer, no matter how promiscuous the situation makes you appear.

“What were you doing inside messing with my fingers? Why take the same elevator? Why were you looking for a place to stay earlier at the bacony? Your cryptic cues are, to put it mildly, lame.”

“No, you are right,” he says with a smirk that would irritate even a god. “I am usually direct. Maybe I just wanted to take the long way around this time. And I was not doing anything. They just brushed naturally.”

“Sung—” you clench your teeth, trying to recall the rest of his name. “Sung—” but nothing comes to mind right now.

“Chan. SungChan,” he emphasizes. The satisfaction of seeing you lag when you probably want to throw hands with him is clearly visible on his face, and he is powerless to stop it. “What meaning did you find in them? I mean… our fingers touching? Many people will take nothing away from it and will most likely dismiss it.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “You can’t be serious? If you have a question, why just not ask me?”

“I already have. What meaning do you give us?” He speaks slowly, but with assurance and fixation. He is aware of the confidence he is currently displaying, so he might as well make it more lethal. “What do you want me to ask?” 

He would rather you express yourself. You! And, despite the fact that he already has a decent idea of your feelings and desires, he wants you to be more explicit about them. That is why he persists in pressuring you to give in to him. To hook you. To persuade you to ask questions. To convince you that you, too, need him. It is almost as if he is subtly switching roles. And it is he who is being chased this time.

“Oh, it has become what I want now?  you mutter. “I cannot believe it.” Turning around, you plan to start walking away from him. You are done with his nonsense.

But Sungchan’s long arm easily reaches out and firmly grasps your wrist. You pause for a moment, unsure whether you should turn back and acknowledge him, but you do. You cannot help but be annoyed because he will not ask you the question you know he wants to ask. He does not. In fact, he dragged on every opportunity he could have asked you tonight, and it is because of him that you lost your drive back home, and it is because of him—and it—

Is his ego that big? And if he does play, why for so long? How did he turn this into you running after him, which is completely opposite of who he was and what he wanted at the start of the night? It is heinous.

But, once again, the two of you can only take so much in the cold weather.

His warmth, in contrast to the cold, spreads from your wrist up the length of your arm to your neck. Hot that feels oppressive but relieves the chill.

His cheeks are undeniably flushed, and the adorable tip of his nose is irritated red. Your jaws begin to twitch, and his lips follow suit. A cold breath begins to emerge from beneath your noses, and your bodies begin to shake as you begin to burn from within. Such unavoidable conflict lingers on your face, and for a brief moment, he feels sorry for having you freeze out here. Sungchan might have had his games going if it had been a warmer season, but that is not the case right now. Finally, he brings himself to put an end to it all.

“I will give you a ride. You must be freezing.”

“Give me a ride!?” You mock, attempting to shake your wrist free from his grip, but it has no effect. You are so fed up with him.

“You lost your ride home because of me, right? He says it with a cheeky grin, as if he is proud of himself, as if missing your ride because of him is such a big accomplishment. “It is only fair that I do something abo—” It is like rubbing salt into a wou—But-but his intentions are all pure!

“Oh, my god,” you say, disbelievingly looking up at the sky before returning your gaze to him. “You are such a jerk. I never would have guessed you were this bad.”

“Your place, or mine?”

“Your game is awful. I am not sure how many times I have to remind you of—”

“As long as it works.”

You bite your lower lip in frustration while rolling your eyes.

The game is bad, but there are not many alternatives. Your phone is still in your small bag, as it has always been, and your friends have gone. Returning to the party or freezing to death are neither of the options that appeal to you. As a result, you end up in his car as the least bad option.

To put it mildly, the ride to his place is quiet; his grip on the steering wheel appears to be steady and relaxed, whereas you are a fucking mess. You desperately hope you do not come across as such and that what is going on inside does not show on the outside, despite your earlier efforts and utmost failures. It is frustrating because you were the one who persuaded him to respond, and you were the one who stayed with him—without him even asking. 

Therefore, everything that has happened up to this point has been an inaccurate reflection of who you are. You hope the circumstances did not boost his ego even more and make you a lesser version of yourself.

You divert your gaze away from the window by focusing on his side profile while he maintains his gaze on the road. Uh, infuriatingly beautiful! So, you decide, carelessly, to press the ‘imaginary’ pedal even harder, dazzling reality onto the fantasy, oblivious to the consequences and what if they worsen? And all they need is what you are about to say to escalate the situation.

“You do not strike me as the type, you know?” 

“As the type to?” 

Nervous, you rub your thighs. “The perplexing kind. To play games,” you pause. “Your smile is lovely, and your eyes are too sincere. You have the face and energy of someone who can play the cheeky extrovert in charge of the party atmosphere. Someone who is witty while remaining sweet. I think that your current self-presentation does not accurately reflect who you are. To be honest, I think you are terrible at pretending. You are so bad at it that you are losing at your own game.”

He remains unaffected, looking ahead at the road. “Then let us keep pretending. I can keep up the tough guy persona for you if you want.”

“It is not about what I want. Plus, you weren’t like that at first.”

He thrives on your somewhat nice compliment. “Was I someone sweet?”

“Shut up,” you repeat, and neither of you says much else after that.

The bottom line is that he can be anything you need him to be. And you notice it the moment you both enter the elevator, your backs against the opposite walls, the gap between you closing but not closing completely. The silence is still, awkward and sexy. 

In the literal sense, he is a walking contradiction. Why is he staring at you with his head pressed against the elvator’s metal, his stark jaw, neck exposed, and this dense ‘undressing’ look in his eyes, never losing his sweet smily charm in front of you? He is so good at it that you both despise and admire him. He both thrills and terrifies you. 

You have to keep wondering how he manages to be both endearing and seductive. It is peak performance, and it must have taken him a while to get there. It makes you long for him in ways you never imagined possible.

The type to give you a backhug followed by a kiss on your hair while saying, ‘You are mine,’ and then easily transform it into a chokehold while whispering in your ear, ‘Mine!’ 

Someone you would consider kissing or biting. Someone you would consider walking hand in hand with only to have him act disrespectfully later, when you are in a safe place and it is just you and him. Someone who will kiss your temple and then invite you to sit in his lap.

You close your eyes at the culmination of your thoughts. You are certain he can sense your internal temperature,  even if he is not touching you. He is touching you in ways you have not been touched before, and this time it turns into an elevator ride that seems to last forever and you wish it would end as soon as possible. 

[23:48] Stepping into the hallway, you try to pick yourself up and carry on from where you melted. You insert the key into the keyhole of your door and invite him in, but you are really second-guessing yourself and questioning your actions. However, it is too late. It is too late because the moment you close the door behind you, you are trapped against the next wall.

Whether provoked or not, he begins sliding your coat down, his hands coming to grip on your shoulders. 

Dazed and hurried, you search for some sense in his eyes but you cannot find any. This causes you to resent your hasty, ill-considered decisions, and you try to protest, but no words come out of your mouth. When did things begin to move at such a rapid and high rate?

Sungchan, fit and lean, towers above you, cornering you and putting you in a scary situation where your only way out is to scream. His overdye jacket rises with him as he raises his hands and rests them on each side of you on the wall. Your gaze shifts to his tiny waist as a tiny bit of his white tee peals away, revealing some of his hips.

You silently gulp at how quickly everything resolves. Your words and thoughts are both stuck deeper inside your mouth and will not form.

“Look at me,” he says, pointing out your excessive staring at the floor.

“I-I” 

Naturally, you cannot go on because your words are failing you. Should the deep look in his eyes in the elevator forewarn you of what he is about to do?

So, in order to get you to look at him, his fingers grab the thin strap of your top, intending to yank and tear it. Of course he doesn’t, but his strategy proves to work instantly as soon as your eyes meet his.

You start to tremble under the complete hot mess of his deep browns, wondering what would happen if he continued the action. The only thing keeping you from being too exposed and naked for him is the velvet fabric that clings to your body. It gets so hot so fast that you are not sure how it is possible, all while your heart feels like it is about to leap out of your chest. Self-defense kicks in, and you raise your hand to your sternum to keep the material in place just in case.

“What exactly is going on?” You ask, stunned, caged by his hands on both sides of you, and already gone.

“You ask as if you haven’t already calculated the distance between our lips and guessed the flavor of my tongue,” he gruffly replies. “This is everything we both desired from the moment our gazes met across the room.” To make matters worse, he whispers, “Don’t deny it.”

A thought flashes through your mind, as sudden and powerful as a firework reaching the sky, because that is exactly what has been poisoning your mind. That is all you have been able to think about. What would it be like to kiss him? How would his lips taste? Is he the type to smile through the kiss, mocking you because you have given up?

“That—that is completely un—untrue,” you mumble, turning away from him and looking at the door.  But your neck muscles work with you, and is the current exposed line meant to tease him even more?

Sungchan seizes the opportunity, moving in closer, pushing your legs apart, and resting his knee against the wall between them. His figure is far too intimidating, while his lazy smile and curious lips climb your provocative neck to your earshell with a bit of his gut feeling that this is where you break the most. “Do you already regret inviting me?” 

His tone and breath are light and breezy, like soft sunlight peeking through the curtains at dawn, revealing a scent of freshness as they enter your little universe. They are, however, comfortably casual, which makes him attractively persistent at the very entrance of your ear. “I have already altered, if not ruined, your night,”  his lips almost kissing under your ear. “We might as well give in to this absurd affection. What have we got to lose?”

And waiting for an answer, having reached this stage, his instincts and the part of his brain receptive to pain are already bracing themselves. He can feel them clenching in his gut as this two coming to three hour-stand-situation has blurred the lines between lovers, strangers with ‘potential’ benefits, and something resembling a budding romance.

As you keep staring at the door while pressed up against the wall, beneath his words, his high and his strength, completely at his mercy, your thoughts are also protesting against being so emotionally fiercely oppressed. They are getting out of hand, to be honest, as the dislike of not wanting to be clingy, the desire to not be subdued, or the fear of yet another heartbreak are no longer enough to keep these rising hopes in check.

“Tell me,” he demands softly. Soft-skilled, his hand turns your face to him without your permission. He has no concept of consent, and gently, with doe eyes, he thefts your emotions.

“Sung—Chan,” you scorn in a moan as he holds your jaw in his hands and demands that you see…

“You made an effort to remember my name. I am confident you will remember my face as well.”

“You have a pretty forgettable face,” you lie, maintaining your larger-than-life persona. You. make. him. smile. 

One of those smiles...

‘FUCK!’

Sungchan’s lashes flatter above you, like venom attempting to doom you, as he catches you ‘dream walking’ between his teeth and his thumb, wishing he could push it past your lips and touch your tongue.

“Will you be able to forget a face you ruined?” He eventually asks.

In pain, you furrow your brows. You are at a loss for what to say in response to the nasty compliment-turn question. It is all on you. You were the one who started it. You are such a speck in comparison to him, having concluded that he is extroverted in every way possible.

“Yes or no?” The more he demands, the deeper his voice becomes. “Answer me,” he says, lowering his head so that his nose brushes against yours. As you watch him formulate his question, his eyes close.  “Will you be able to forget someone who intruded on your night in a very honest attempt to—to”

His other hand, which is gripping your waist, tightens. A real physical touch that threatens to melt your left side as you become unconscious of how much your legs rub against his that is between yours. The star details in your eye makeup could be mistaken for tears.

“Seriously,” he says against your lips, his confidence slightly backtracking. “Did I ruin your night?” Adding flaws to himself when he is perfect, “I have been messy and—”

You succumb to his lingering words, losing your voice and forgetting how to breathe, and the closer he comes to you and presses his body against yours, the more sensitive he becomes to the situation. The more he craves it, the more he overthinks, questioning whether he is doing everything correctly. The more he does not want to lose you, the stronger his possessive feelings become.

Obsessed with the idea of making you his even for a single night and oblivious to the idea of consent, he does not waste a second longer and brings his lips to your exposed neck, causing a new wave of warmth to spread out.

You feel your body quiver and break out in a cold sweat. His desperate, awfully warm lips awaken your moans, allowing him to revel in how helpless and breakable you have become this late into the night. And as a reward for his patience, he gets these tasty little audible treats.

“Sungchan,” you mutter in a complete filmic daze, hot all over and clutching his jacket and pulling him even closer to you. “We-we”

He groans into your neck, a whiny protest that caresses your already electrified skin, because he is too far gone, too shallow in his tender need for you, and looking into your eyes now would be too humiliating. All the while, he has to keep his ‘irresistible’ guy impersonation in check, right?

As a result, you are the one who uses force to get him to stop. You give him one last look before pressing your lips against his. You cannot think of anything else but having him smear your gloss all over your face. But before you can even feel his lips violently unite with yours, he pulls back. It is barley a peck. 

So, now, you are not sure if his provocative, melancholy expression is meant to delude you even more or if he is actually thinking. But what this giant really does is count to ten before unleashing his thrust that has been building for some hours.

His big hands seize your face again, but this time he tugs on your bottom lip first, retaining it between his teeth and claiming you before moving on. You realize that even the finest alcohol you have ever tasted has never been this potent. The softest, smoothest, and lightest silk you have ever touched does not compare to his hands on your face.

Sungchan’s sweet scent, taste, and shameless sighs overwhelm all of your senses, culminating in you ghasping in his mouth. In his struggle for dominance, his tongue is selfish, and his hand lands on your waist again and starts to pick up the material, exposing your skin to his touch.

His hand smoothly glides across your bare skin before groping you so hard that you bite him back, giving in to your wild side.

“Ouch!” he hisses, furrowing his brows. He takes a step back and completely releases you.

With him doing this, you finally recognize the coldness of the night for what it is because it hits you all at once, and not literally in the sense that the room is cold, but you feel extreme coldness in the distance he just created. You are aware that you and he are still at the entrance and have made no progress, but you are more concerned that you will be unable to continue due to his most recent halt, which you caused. Everything appeared to be going well; your lips had finally paired and become the same, but you had to go and ruin that.

His hand drops and grips the handle. But only if you knew this was your last chance to let him go—the last time he gains enough control to restrain himself. He hopes this is the last time you think clearly before realizing that if he stays, he will be unable to leave this place without leaving you ‘scarred’ in some way.

The kiss’s spontaneity and rapidity caught you both off guard, blanking your thoughts and leaving your minds so empty that neither of you knows whether staying or leaving is more rational.

In response, Sungchan’s hand presses lightly on the handl—

An aching “Stay!” escapes your used lips as you lose control through a clenched fist.

“Why do you need me here?”  he wonders.

“I don’t know! I suppose I want to remember this kiss, but it was so brief and happened so quickly. It surprised me.”

“I thought you said I had a forgettable face. So, what good is remembering our kiss?”

‘Mean’ you think to yourself. And what better than to offer him a silly stay? “I have a wonderful bottle of wine waiting to be opened,”  you remark as you pick up the coat from the floor and hang it up. “Oh, and you have to meet my fish. One of them looks exactly like you.”

His soft roused pink lips curve into a smile as the corners of his eyes crinkle. Something shifts in you when he laughs. It is as if your heart is swimming in honey. You want to drink it.

“How can a fish suddenly resemble me?”

“See?” you say as you lead him inside. “You are curious, aren’t you?”

“If you accept that we just made out, then fine.”

You return his sarcasm with wide eyes, noticing him softly poking the inside of his cheek and pouting his lips. He is flirting with you a little more confidently now that he has been officially invited into the heart of your privacy, which is your home, and is no longer considered the intruder.

[00:14] In the living room sits the stoic aquarium with his twin fish. The tank emits a cozy neon magenta blue in the middle of the dark room, creating a familiar color atmosphere to the one earlier at the balcony. 

As you two get closer, each of you takes a position on each side of the tank. Sungchan appears to be ecstatic about the fact that you were speaking the truth, that you were housing fish at home, and that you were not lying.

“You weren’t lying,” he says automatically, astounded by the several small creatures flapping their tails gracefully. Each one is unique and divergent. They go about their business, going through their insignificant daily loop. Some even resort to randomly breaking out of the loop by lightly tapping their mouths on the glass.

“Can you spot yourself?” You crack the joke over the glass wall.

He investigates the situation further before declaring, “They are kissing,” his finger pointing to two fish at the tank’s very bottom, partially hidden by the green seaweeds.

“Oh,” you say as you tap the glass to scare them away and get them to stop, “they are not ‘in love’ with each other. Actually, fish are the opposite. They are fighting. I am guessing you assumed one of them was the one who resembled you,” you say, tiptoeing to catch a better glimpse of his face over the tank.

He, on the other hand, is not troubled in the same way. He is tall and imposing. “It wasn’t me if they weren’t kissing... Do fish not kiss?”

“Fish may rub against each other or press their bodies together, but this is not kissing, whereas fish who touch their lips or lock in a passionate kiss are most likely sparring or engaged in battle. When this occurs, they are attempting to injure each other, which can cause severe damage. So, thank you for noticing. I might have to take action on this.”

“But why?”

“Because if you have fish that are engaging in this behavior, you must separate them as soon as possible before they injure or—The-the consequences can be fatal, okay?”

“A kiss that can kill?” he muses, his eyes brightening as he becomes fascinated by the matter.

You sense his intent, as if he had not delivered such a kiss a few minutes ago. Even though it was brief, it served as both bait and, most importantly, a promise.  That is, it could have been much worse had he not broken it. You have no doubt that he withheld his lethal kiss from you.

“Ugh,” you sigh, pointing a finger lovingly at him to correct his misbehavior. “Don’t look fascinated, as this is bad for my fish.”

He grins at your petty, silly threat.

Casually, as the fish swim in unison, unaffected by their monotonous routine, his eyes begin to reflect the contents of the salty tank. He is both close and far. The light enhances his face’s magical mystery, and you notice another tiny mole at the edge of his upper lip as he opens his mouth in delight. It is as if a top secret has been revealed, and you appear to be the lucky recipient. So tiny, yet celestial. Something simple but meaningful. How come you did not notice it sooner? 

Since he is always attracting you so calmly, you eventually come to the conclusion that Sungchan is a true meance. There is a slow-burning beauty about him—a beauty that destroys peace. Soft brown, like the coffee that inks the back of your throat and leaves you asking for more as your mind begins to crack. There is always some bait for you to take—some feature or trait of his that he is constantly working on in order to get you to long. His eyes, his pretty hands, and his towering physique. His broad shoulders, his side profile, and his absolutely stunning nose. 

However, his tiny mole is now attracting your attention back to his lips… And the truth is, the last time you thought about his lips... Well, you got them! Which, once more, is something you can have if you wish it.

He reverberates deep inside your innermost thoughts. ‘What about this killing kiss?’ ‘What about it? Just wh—’ You wish to know!

To clear your mind, you choose to pose a question. “Do you know about the soulmate theory? People say that moles are where your lover kissed you the most in your past life. Which indicates that you have—”

“I kissed a lot,” he cuts in.

“You have had a lot of kisses,” you point out.

“Then, what is more repulsive to you: me being frequently kissed or me being a promiscuous kisser?”

“How can I be the judge? You must have done a lot of kissing. That is all there is to it.”

“Alright. But I am curious. How would you kiss me if we had to do it all over again? ​If we had to take things slowly?”

“Wh—why are you asking?”

“Because everything up to this point has felt like a high that has caused me to act on impulse. But now that I am standing across from you, this calm and comfortable essence, the soothing sounds of this water tank... You. All of this balancing act of our energies seems to be helping to calm down all of that rush. I want to hold your hand and I want you to think I am cute.”

“Right!” you chuckle at him. “What exactly do you mean, Sungchan? Your eyes tell a very distinct—y-your your smile—” You pause for a moment to examine his sincerity, and you discover no flaws in his truth. “Wait, you ARE serious.”

Different shades of the same cyan and magenta spread across his face, each time so new yet so familiar. He rubs his chin, then runs his hand through his hair, ruffling it. “I am.”

The sweet, calming vibrations that he seems to be floating on top of blend with sensual and suggestive ones in a way that is beyond comprehension. How is it possible for someone to be both extremes at once? Sincerely, there is not a comb in the world that could possibly untangle your knotted feelings at this moment. You have had no idea how terribly screwed you are until this point.

Hence, your gaze returns to the fish, and you can tell by the sudden shift in the air that he is about to say something you wish he hadn’t. You make every effort to get him to stop. “But—”

“Look,” he wins over you; “your ability to completely eliminate my desire to socialize with anyone at a party in favor of creating tunnel vision speaks for itself.” 

He takes a moment to think of what else to say. “And-And we haven’t even gotten to the laughs and the banter, the bad sarcasm, the conversations, or the warmest embrace... The next-day breakfast that culminates in a ridiculously serious spectacle of coffee making, which I thoroughly enjoy from the best seat in your kitchen while you wear my t-shirt, which fits you far better,”

“Sungch—”

“But that’s THE future. So, then, of course, if I am just a one time guy, I am not kidding when I ask what kind of kiss you want. If you are going to remember or take something from this night, it might as well be something worthwhile.”

At least you should not be held accountable for falling in love because Sungchan is beautiful with his carefully chosen words. And as the chemistry reaches its peak, you realize you can no longer resist it. You tiptoe a little more to get a better look at him without having to look through the glass.  His eyes pierce you with a clarity you have not seen before, and you can feel him pulling you through the glass and water like a magnet.

You cannot put it into words, but something is there. A million thoughts, feelings, hopes, and dreams are exchanged without the use of a single word. You let the magnetism take over. 

And so he smiles as you drown, or is that his coping mechanism for drowning into you as well? 

Really, is there a length of time at which his smile should stop being your favorite sight?

Overcoming the rather tiresome governance of fear, you decide to speak in favor of your ‘lust-ings’, despite the fact that you never intended to spend the night with a guy, let alone invite and bring one home.

“If I had to imagine another kiss, it would be one that happened on the spur of the mome—”

In actuality, everything that has happened so far has happened spontaneously. Startled,   he cutely leans over the glass tank, gripping the top edge with both hands. “Again!?” 

“It seems to suit your personality, and for what it is worth, I think I like it. A kiss where we banter around because I cannot read your cues or antics, which leads to you being unable to take my sarcastic criticism, so you choose to silence me.”

“Is that how you define ‘cute’?”

Sweetly, you continue to enrage him. “You can’t even handle it right now, can you?”

Sungchan squints, attempting to determine if the patterns  of the ‘kiss has already started’ are already there. He lets go of the tank’s glass, crosses his arms, and pouts some more before starting to pull his jacket down, giving the impression of, ‘Sure, it is on... And please, do proceed!’

Yet, refusing to take it off completely, his jacket dangles halfway down his arms. His collarbones and tee collar are in a power struggle. Numerous veins swarm his arms and biceps, screaming for your attention. 

Again, something you have seen before, but is that supposed to make it easier for you to process? And how should you focus on everything at all, appropriately? And what should you do in response when he eventually decides to purposefully bite his lip in slow motion? His sheer beauty alone is giving you headaches, not to mention all of these other details.

To turn the conversation back on track, you give him a soft smile and continue to elaborate on what, in your opinion, is the ideal kiss. 

“You want to stop me from talking because I step on so many of your nerves, and there is not much else you can do but kiss me. You want so bad to grab me and shake me, but all you manage to do is squeeze my face gently between your palms…” You make a small pause before you continue. “The seconds get progressively slower in microseconds as we stare at one another. I successfully count three of your moles while you complete a ten-count. With that, your excitement to punish me dies down. A new need emerges.”

“I imagine a kiss where you don’t even realize how tender your lips are pressed against mine. But then, I bet you don’t even realize how soft your lips are.” A unique sensuality is added to your voice as it becomes increasingly lower pitched while you speak. “Or-r are aware of the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you shut them. It is just ughh—ANYWAY, a kiss where your annoyingly long eyelashes, of which I am very jealous, tickle my cheekbones, and my lipgloss leaves sparkles on your nose. You take hold of my hands and slowly raise me up, letting me step on your toes and offering one of those smiles that you have already given me… while you are ignorant of all these tiny, lovely things about yourself, Sungchan. Is that cute enough for you?”

Your last words cause him to tilt his head back slightly, look up at the ceiling, and take a deep breath. “You are safe as long as this wall of glass keeps us separate. But nothing about anything, not even how I will treat you if you decide to move, is guaranteed. I just know that I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Is that a threat?” You raise a brow.

“Assume anything you like,” he says indifferently. “It can be a threat if that is what you want it to be.”

“Hmph,” you razz him some more, “so you are going back to being the tough guy?” as you take the initial step away from the aquarium. “Might I suggest that ‘you do not seem like the type’? Did you forget, or what?”

“You don’t know me,” he at last asserts, embracing your challenge and making a step too. 

As soon as there is nothing separating you two, dopamine levels peak.

“You do it so effortlessly, I bet.”

Sunghcan gives his lips a quick lick. “You have seen and felt it.”

You answer truthfully, “I have.”

With a notorious smile that matches his innermost feelings, he snatches you without warning and begins to drag you over the couch, which is located in a more central area of the room. His stature is so great that he carries you with your feet elevated, and your ‘let me down’ whine is met with his ‘UH HUH, you are going to have to tell me why you have invited me.’

When he finally gets you both there, he exhales and collapses back onto the couch, holding you in his arms. You are slightly leaning on him with your knees around his waist. 

Quickly adjusting to the seat, Sungchan presents an offensive sight with his head resting on the couch. You are in a situation where you would like to know how to proceed, where to look, or what else to say, but all of those things have been done before. The only thing left to do is to give yourself entirely to him.

Sungchan goes right to work without much delay. His fingers gently dip on both sides of your waist before he applies more pressure.

There is a noticeable tremble in your voice. “W-what are y-you doing?” You manage to ask despite your heart thumping frantically in your throat and feeling like it is going to choke you from his intimidating appearance and the pressure of his hands on your ribs. 

“Act my part?” He says this with such intensity that he cleverly slips one hand past your waist and runs along your backbone, taking advantage of some of the exposed skin on your back.

Feeling tense, your hands start to shake, and you are not sure where to put them other than where his head rests—at the back of the couch. Well, that seems like a safe choice, duh. Or should you touch him back in return? Should—

You truly are clueless, yet all your thoughts can be seen.

So, as you hover over him and look into his eyes, the last thing you hear is his seductive, whispery ‘Come,’ which invites you to close the distance and gives you total control over how to initiate this kiss. His hands press your body against his, and his mysterious, deep tone easily compels you. 

As the heat of the moment engulfs you both, nobody says anything. It is what you two—especially him—had been looking forward to for hours. An earlier thought that was driving him crazy was picturing you exactly as you are in his arms right now, only to find that you are even better—even beautiful—and that your skin is hotter and softer than  he had fantasized.

He suffers from the same consequences of ‘the closeness’ as you do. You can feel his heart hammering against his chest, trying to break free. His steady lashes are growing more disturbed, and his breathing is labored and drawn out. And when your warm lips finally touch his, his brain shuts down completely. Maybe he is just not used to things going slowly. You are killing him subtly now by doing that.

Actually, this whole night was just a slow, steady death. You can taste the sweetness in him even in his mouth, so you can be assured that even though he can be quick at times, there is an unquestionable sweetness to him. The sweetness that translates from the smile he lets out while kissing you. 

Of course, he is skilled at this! He slowly extends his tongue after letting his hums seep into you and the kiss grows deeper.

The sound of the kiss developing into a passionate makeout accentuates the hair at the back of your head. You are completely absorbed by him, lost. And the moment you hear his first pant in your mouth, you scoop his face into your hands. He presses harder against your back as your hands burn from the heat of his cheeks.

You moan, hot yet weak and defenseless, ‘Sung—” polonged “chan,’ meaning to say something but never managing to.

“Mhmm-” As he fills your mouth with his tongue and spreads it farther in an attempt to find more space, the tender kiss seems to turn into something bold and invasive. It quickly descends into sloppy, steamy, wet kissing. A kiss that is actually so strong that it does not matter if you drool or think it is inappropriate.

He holds your waist with one arm while pressing you down onto him, applying pressure to your nape. His jeans quickly became unbearable to be in due to the slight movement causing friction.

Then he begins kissing your jaw. Further down, the dampness of his breath clings to your throat, making you lose consciousness. If it was just his lips the first time, now there are his tongue and teeth as well. He tampers with the strap of the top with his fingers before sliding it down your shoulder. His impatience is evident as his kisses travel down your chest. You are helpless to stop him from becoming needy in his attempts to torture you; all you can do is throw back your head and hope he stays that way the entire night.

In the moment’s trance, he lays you down and hovers over you in a fit of craving. The couch starts to screech because his weight and the pressure he puts on it are too much for it. 

It is at this point that you realize how much you enjoy being placed in a vulnerable situation where you cannot think about leaving because of his arms. The more you watch him, the more attracted he becomes to you, because he can see your thought in the way you look at him. Both of you and him get turned on by it. You love how openly and compulsively possessive he is. 

And… should you love it?

Just looking at him on top of everything makes you feel fucking aroused. Thoughts of how perverse his lip mole is are all over your head. His hair gets in the way of his dazed eyes, whose brown never stops being drenched in the aquarium’s neon blue. 

If the neon fades from him, will everything end?

Feeling a bit annoyed by the question that keeps coming to mind, you find yourself embracing his torso and seeking the comfort of his weight on top of you, biting his shoulder in the process. His writhing gasps are to die for as your teeth and fingernails dig into his white shirt.

Your silent demands are met with Sungchan’s insistence that you look at him. Not to mention that it becomes harder to do that. He is not letting you look anywhere but at him, as his fingers start to lift your top and you feel them drawing damaging figures beneath your belly button, creating such an intensely carnal, gut-wrenching moment as your desires intensify. And there is this throbbing, hot, and silky feeling to your skin, which makes him want to torment you until you lose any control. 

To do that, he grabs a tender spot on your thigh to further expose you and carve out more space for himself. 

As far as clothes go, for a moment, you wish there was nothing at all between you and him. And as you shut your eyes to the idea, Sungchan plants a kiss under your ear, leaving a trail of smiles across your cheek. Oh, how well he reads you. Have faith—he shares your desire.

You too have, unconsciously, contributed to his shirt being half-rid. Squares make up most of his belly, and they end at the bottom of his low-rise jeans. Your fingers smuggle themselves against his most sensitive skin, just beneath the hem of his jeans.

His lips open up, and you try to learn the precise way he hurts by watching and absorbing every move he makes while his eyebrows tighten at your touch. If you push your hand a little further, what should you expect?

He is fiercely competitive, so he rolls his hips into you after becoming enthralled with your fleeting, tender touches.

You cover your eyes in embarrassment at this gesture, but his voice is already there, right in your ear. “Open your eyes.” 

When you shake your head silently, refusing to give in, he grabs your hands and pins them over your head. 

“Open up,” he insists. A honey-like voice turned sour. Sungchan is cruel and hard, with the strangest soft skin, a contradictory scent, and the ability to practically lick your face with his words—a lesson that teaches you to be both tough and tender as well. As a result, you gently release the held fear. Your eyes allow him to be with you without you having to say it out loud.

And although he is too shy to let it on or say it, the subsequent crushing of his hips into you speaks of ‘That is right, baby…’ The following one of ‘Nice and slow,’ and the one right after of ‘I’ll go again... and again... and—’

“Please, don’t—” you cry out. 

His lips are blazing and red is blooming all over his cheeks, but still, Sungchan resists giving in to his shyness. As an alternative, he tightens his hold on your wrists. “Mhmm. Need words.”

“D-don’t—don’t let this end; it’s-it is just too fucking good.” 

“Yeah?” He smiles, releasing your wrists, recognizing that he is actually far too touch-deprived and needs your hands on every part of his body. “You know it is true,” he whispers, stroking your lips with his thumb before your frustration overcomes you and you take in his colossal index and middle fingers in your mouth.

Yeah, you know it is true… You introduce them to your teeth and tongue before you begin to suck. 

And is he really expected to be unaffected by that? When you devour him like that? He hurts for you to suck it so much that he is now in raw pain. No succulent sip should be missed. The taste must be unimaginable in many ways.

His mouth opens with a swear word. “As soon as I saw you, I knew you would find this irresistible.”

As you never really anticipated it this far, you are not sure if you feel the same. But here he is, and here you are, acting as the situation demands, so maybe he is right. Your reciprocal relationship is akin to an electric shockwave, meeting both your needs and your own desires in equal measure. The perfect balance... found in a stranger at a party…

Sungchan decides to reach your vulnerable center, soothing you with deep, heavy, lewd kisses. You have no idea what he needs or wants or if his body is adapting to yours, but you can bet that the ‘Fuck’ he sucks into your lips is real.

“Please,” you beg, raising your hands, only to have him slam them down once more while giving you a serious look as if you might have done him more harm than good. But in reality, you are so fragile under him that you steal his heart. Tears of sweat form at his temple, and you manage to free a hand to give him long, leisurely strokes as you brush his hair out of his eyes.

He says something incoherently like ‘sorry,’ leaning in to plant another kiss while entwining his palms with yours. 

What is he sorry for?

Nothing about his behavior, not even this kiss, matches his hard, deep, grinding hips. The night’s apex remains unaffected, even though the jeans denim is impenetrable. You want to burst at the way he begins to ease up on you, circling back and forth, momentum building, building, holding your fingers intertwined while his other hand rests on your waist to keep you still while he slows down, which intensifies the pain you are experiencing.

Eventually, he looks down at you and stops whatever he is doing, breathing heavily as though he is just finished a mile. You both suffer from this entire action. Needs and thirst are put on hold by him. At last, he gathers his courage to say something, gazing at you through the same wounded eyes that were there when your attention strayed from his way earlier. “I have something to tell you.” 

You reassure him, sensing a weight in his fast blinks, “You don’t have to say it.” He is even quicker to lean his cheek into your palm when you tickle under his chin to soothe him. The touchy-feely, seeking affection he displays pushes you to emphasize what you mean more. “It’s the way you look at me.”

“Isn’t it silly?” He muses with glassy brown eyes that are blown bigger than anyone’s ability to frighten him. “Love at first sight is not something I believe in. No one should, in my opinion.”

“Then, what makes you feel the need to tell me something?”

“I—” His speech falters as he struggles to form a complete sentence before sighing and collapsing next to you onto the overly small sofa.

“Don’t,” you say while squeezing yourself smaller to make more room for him. “Then don’t. You don’t have to say anything.”

“But I am not ready to end this evening,” he fusses, using his finger to tap both of your chests to show how close you two are, “which means I also don’t want what is going on in here to end.”

“I know,”  you say with a smile as you take his hand in yours, study it, and then walk the inward lines as though determining whether the two of you have what it takes. 

He watches you as you watch his hand; if there is anything he wants to hold onto forever, it is this. There is a certain cruciality to the moment. Despite not knowing if you two are a match, you both want this to continue. And so you say, "Nor do I."

“Seriously?” he asks, raising himself up on one elbow with a shocked expression.

You continue to feel and appreciate his hand, ignoring his question. The beauty of his hands is also astounding. “Would you say this is cute?” You mention his earlier observations about cuteness. 

“You remembered.”

“I want to hold your hand and I want you to think I am cute.” You quote him, then tap twice on his nose. “Of course I remember, silly, but it is me holding your hand, not the opposite.”

With his lips heavily affected by all the heavy makeout, Sungchan pouts the biggest pout imaginable.

You draw parallels and say, “I swear, you look like my fish.”

He asks through his giggles, “Who kisses to kill?”

“Right…”

“And…” he is curious, “did it work?”

You sigh mockingly to mimic exhaustion. “A lot of death kisses, yes.”

His heavy arm presses your waist against his body while he tucks his head into your neck in response, seeking to stay.

For the rest of the night, Sunghcahn clings to you, making sure you realize that no one else can touch you or make you feel the way you do right now. Perhaps this is his greed getting the better of him when he realizes that you could have ended up this way with anyone at the party and that, should things change and you decide differently, you could be this way with someone else as early as next week. 

His stomach turns at the thought. Your presence tonight brought to light a more beautiful side to the things that had seemed perfect before, completely changing his life.  It seems he has a great deal left to accomplish and a lot more to prove… as an intruder.

Though as for tonight, it is as if two entirely distinct universes or two distinct parallel lines that had never intersected finally made contact with one another. You two are so in sync—the type of people sensitive to distance.

[An indefinite persistent dream.]

The best thing he could hope to hear next is,  “Mark me yours.” 

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

~

© 𝟭-𝟰𝟵. do not copy, translate, repost, and modify my works.

#jung sungchan #sungchan #riize #sungchan x reader #sungchan x yn #sungchan fanfic #sungchan oneshot #riize fanfic #riize scenarios #riize x reader #riize x y/n #riize smut #riize you #riize fic #sungchan smut #sungchan imagines #sungchan x you #jung sungchan fanfic #riize fluff

[papastarion]

I know everyone has their different takes on Astarion’s character, and what they think his story should look like/what he would or wouldn’t do with his life after the events of the game, and I think they’re all valid. And not everyone is going to like your read or what you want him to pursue or be like after all is said and done. And there’s nothing wrong with that! Could you imagine how boring things would be if we all agreed? I personally love seeing the diversity of takes.

That being said, I am very much a fan of the idea of non-Ascended Astarion starting a family after everything, just me personally. Now, I know that’s a whole can of worms for people who don’t like that concept or who don’t like the idea of kids/pregnancy in their fiction. That’s completely fine. Funnily enough, I have no desire to have my own kids, but I love exploring that sort of lifestyle and the dynamic it creates when it comes to my characters in my own writing.

And I do think he wants kids, in my world state (to borrow a Dragon Age term), anyway.

I always go back to Astarion’s confession, when he says he wants “something real.” All those years where sex and love were nothing but a performance to seduce people and lure them to what he thought was their death. And now, with Tav/Durge, he wants the real thing. He wants to love and be loved.

He says he doesn’t know what “real” looks like anymore, which means he’s got to figure it out. And we know he isn’t much for plans, so that means a lot of what he learns is learned as he goes. That must extend to learning what he wants, too.

“I Want to Live” is the song that is consistently played in relation to his character development (despite being the players song.) Want. For all of those years, he was told by Cazador that he and his fellow spawn were a family. If he doesn’t ascend, then what he desires, and discovering what he wants, and taking what was false for so long and learning what the real version of it looks like to him all come together to make it easy for me to see him enjoying fatherhood.

He wouldn’t be Astarion without that prickly personality of his, but as his relationship with Tav/Durge progresses, you get to see the softness and sweetness he has in him, too. And I believe he really does mean it when he says he wants to protect them. He does genuinely care, as sarcastic and standoffish as he can be. That’s part of his personality and his character arc.

Now, do I think he likes all kids? Not at all. I think he likes certain kids, and for certain reasons. He may not encourage taking in Yenna, but he does insist on saving her from Orin. He seems to have a high opinion of Arabella. It depends on the kid. In a strange way, I think his own personhood being taken from him has made him view kids as more individual than most people tend to.

And I think he would adore his own kids because of who they are. They’re proof of how far he’s come, they’re proof that he’s alive and he’s living and that Cazador didn’t win in the end. He’s here. He won. He’s growing past everything.

And, most importantly: they’re his kid(s.)

Do I think he’s ever considered having children prior to having one, even before he was turned? I doubt it, honestly. But especially prior to his vampirism, I don’t think it matters whether he did or not. He can’t remember what color his eyes were, let alone what he wanted or who he was. And it doesn’t matter, he makes that much clear. He isn’t that person anymore, and he won’t ever get to be them again. So whether he had thought about children specifically or not, whether he wanted them or not, I don’t think that matters to him anymore.

He never saw himself as a hero, either, but he’s a Hero of Baldur’s Gate now. He cares. In his own way. And he defines and does things his own way in his life now. He’s still not your stereotypical hero, but he’s also no longer your stereotypical vampire. He wouldn’t be Astarion if he was easy to define. And after everything, he is still Astarion. He’s complex, and he can be quite contradictory and inconsistent. That’s both part of his personality and a result of the 200 years of trauma he survived, I think.

And again, he’s also not one for plans. I don’t think he considers being a father until Tav/Durge is telling him that he’s going to be one. And that kind of life-changing news can rattle even the people who have planned for it and wanted it their whole lives. Sure, I think it takes some getting used to, and I’m sure there are complex feelings that come with it. Rediscovering yourself and building a life are never easy. Living isn’t easy.

But this is another part of the life he’s living—really living. This isn’t the mockery Cazador forced the spawn to play pretend in, it’s a real family, his family. And I think that means everything to the person he chooses to be now.

#I just have a lot of feelings about Dadstarion #I’m so sorry this is such a mess but I just wanted to talk about him #Astarion #Dadstarion #Papastarion #character study #if you squint

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Love Language (Skz - Hyung line) ‗ ❍

Pairings : Chan x reader, Minho x reader, Changbin x reader, Hyunjin x reader

Genre/warnings : Half headcanon and half scenarios. They all start fluffy and fun and end up suggestively/with a little smut. Regardless strictly 18+

Summary : Each member has some specific dynamics in their relationship that makes your love so special. These are some of them <3

Word count : 2.1 K

A/n : The summary and title suck I know apologies lol, just read to understand lol. Anyways have fun!

ps: There could be errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

Maknae line link

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chan ‗ ❍

Chan would be absolutely smitten with someone that either had his same talents with music (the whole process) or at the very least someone that is genuinely interested in what he does. He would feel very validated and happy about it , for sure.

"Oh wow is this something new?" he'd answer yes and ask if you wanted to hear it. Of course you'd say yes in a heartbeat. You'd sit on his lap and listening intently to the new sample/recording, bopping your head to it slightly along with the rhythm.

He would try play it cool but would secretly be really hopeful of your response. When you finished listening you'd say something like "That was great, Channie. I especially liked-" and then you'd go into detail about it. He would be smiling so wide I just know.

Extra bonus points if you start adding some technical specifics or took the initiative to give other ideas, keeping in mind everything that you learned from him. Now he's absolutely in awe and wouldn't be able to hide it.

Or maybe it could be a lyric draft, a new dance bit to learn, some raw vocals and so on. Honestly just any part of his work.

He can be insecure sometimes and doubt his own abilities, so I feel like he would gain so much confidence if someone that he genuinely cared about gave him positive feedback. Especially since you'd try to be always really honest with each other, he would value that a lot too.

So in short, shower him in compliments and make him all shy, he'll love that and hate that at the same time.

It could also be that maybe you're not an expert in the matter and would simply ask him to explain further his inspiration/ideas or the process behind whatever he was doing.

Either way one of you would end up impressed af and randomly go like "You know that was really hot, right?"

Next thing you know you're fucking on the studio couch. Or the desk. Or you riding him on the studio chair. The possibilities are multiple.

"So you think I'm really hot, uh?" he'd tease, making you smile breathlessly. You'd get closer to his ear and whisper "Yes. Always" making him groan.

"You seemed such an expert a few moments ago" he'd say in between thrusts, "Should we make our own beat? What do you say, uh? Can't talk now?" you'd clench around him, too out of it to respond.

"My baby is too fucked out to talk now?" he'd tease, but quickly add some sort of praise like "My good girl, so smart".

He could and would absolutely tease you to get you hot and bothered but would never miss to also shower you in praises like you do with him.

Minho ‗ ❍

I feel he's someone who would love to have a person that can easily match his energy, but also sweep him off his feet.

If he's being serious, he'd want you to also be serious. Unless it was a situation in which you know that he just needs some jokes to make him calm down. If he's in a teasing mood or maybe a rare cheesy mood, he'd like you to play along. Imagine if he decided to be really sweet and you're like "What are you doing Minho"

He would absolutely take it ten times worse that it actually is. Especially if we're talking about occasions in which he allows himself to be comfortable and play around. So don't do that please lol

He would find it very amusing if you actually managed to not only keep up with him but maybe even take it a step further. Maybe when he's making a joke or being ironic. If he's being cute and you act even cuter it would make him happy/shy. If he gets into a heated conversation and you're open to discuss it with him, he would really appreciate you speaking your mind and listening to his thoughts.

He would also get quite protective of your own feelings, wanting to demonstrate the same consideration and love to you. He'd make sure to also adapt well to your own mood or cheer you up and comfort you if you needed it. I guess we could say that trusting each other with your feelings and emotions is your love language. And that's why you work so well together; you're truly friends before you're lovers.

But again, in general he would get so giddy and excited when you do share his vibe. Would probably end up with the tension going through the roof. Sexy, angsty, funny, cute. Doesn't matter really.

And now suddenly he's having his way with you in whichever place you're in and truly keep the energy going.

"Oh you think you're funny now, uh?" would absolutely tease you for going along with him and turn it against you. Say shit like"Such a naughty girl for making such jokes" only to make you go insane.

Not in public, absolutely never in public. He's not a big fan of drawing the attention on him especially when he feels vulnerable. But once you get home, oh boy. Again, could be anywhere around the house in any moment of the day.

"Minho-" you'd try to say in between kisses, "Are you sure this is the time for this?" your tone not convincing even yourself. He'd smirk, jokingly grazing his teeth on your neck, "Why not? What, you want me to stop?" he'd tease, making you immediately say no and kiss him harshly.

Those kind of "I don't even know how I ended up here" type of situations. Insane and unhinged just like the man himself.

A joke goes too far and you're laughing a little to hard while you're doing laundry? The washing machine will do. You just got home and are too horny to think straight? The wall next to the entrance sounds good. It's a lazy evening and you're watching something on tv? The bedroom is the place. And so on <3

Changbin ‗ ❍

Changbin is probably someone who would love to have someone that he could spoil and take care of, 'baby' if you will, but would 100% do it back. I almost feel like it would be a standard for a relationship.

He is the type of man that would treat you like royalty and make sure that you're never missing anything. He wouldn't do it expecting to get anything in return, it's just really a matter of affecting and his love language.

But, it would make him very very happy if his s/o had the same type of dynamic.

For him specifically we're talking about both non material and material type of gifts/attention. Like comforting you or making you laugh when you need it, always making sure that you're comfortable and taken care of.

But also I feel like he would spoil you with gifts both randomly and in special occasions. If for example he buys you a birthday gift, it would have to be the best option that fit your taste perfectly. I also feel like you noticing it and making a comment on it like "Oh, Binnie thank you so much, it's my favorite color!" would make him extremely proud. Just in general seeing you happy and knowing that he contributed to it.

On your side, I think he would truly appreciate even the smallest and most mundane things like grabbing his jacket for him before he goes out and give him a little kiss goodbye, adding a slightly bigger portion of a food that he likes in comparison to another that he enjoys less, taking his hand/stroking his arm when he's feeling nervous to comfort him and so on.

It would make him feel loved. And a little babyed too, which I think he'd love to be honest. He'd absolutely baby you in return though, for sure.

All of these situations could easily turn into more explicit ones with the right setting or the right occasion.

For example, if we're talking about gifts, something a little kinky could be you buying a set of lingerie 'just for him'. Or the opposite. He could be the one buying you a nice necklace and comment on how he'd "Like to see you wearing only that"

Or maybe he could have a special event/professional engagement that he's feeling nervous about and you could say something like "I know you're gonna do great. My Binnie is always so good" getting closer to him adding "Make sure to do very well today too for me, okay? Just think of me waiting for you at home with a gift for you only" you'd add some touching or kissing to really seal the deal.

Good job, now you successfully turned him on. Would probably get distracted from his anxiety and go around with a shit eating grin, and of course, do absolutely great on stage. And after that he'd come come with a purpose, and that purpose was thanking you properly for giving him the confidence that he needed. And find his gift, of course.

Not even the time for you to congratulate him on his performance or say hello for that matter, that he'd be passionately kissing you. "Want to show me that little gift you were talking about, princess?" you'd smirk at him and just go "Unwrap it yourself, baby boy".

And he would absolutely do that in no time but not before picking you up and then bringing you to the bedroom to fully enjoy his gift.

Hyunjin ‗ ❍

Hyunjin is somewhat of an introvert yes, but he is also someone who can completely transform on stage, and that is thanks to confidence. Whether he's actually confident or kind of 'fakes it til he makes it', you can't really tell the difference. And that's because nonetheless he genuinely enjoys himself and has lots of fun dancing, singing and performing in general.

This is why I think that something that he would truly appreciate and find attractive in a s/o is the ability to be carefree. Doesn't necessarily mean that you couldn't be insecure or at the contrary be extremely confident. It just means that nonetheless you would be able to have fun and enjoy yourself when you're doing something you like.

For him it can be dancing, for you it can be something else. Whatever it is I feel like it would make him happy to see you truly happy. And also not take yourself too seriously. Maybe even make fun of each other from time to time.

Like when he's practicing a dance routine and being all sexy and serious and shit, maybe even purposefully make a show for you, and by the end of it you'd go "Hwang Hyunjin stop making sexy faces it's just me. Or do you want to seduce the walls?" that would probably make him laugh and instantly shift the mood. Maybe even get him a little shy, never hurts to tease.

And that's when you play it off, but there could easily be other occasions in which he would 100% try to seduce you and be successful at it.

He could be singing or dancing to a particularly 'exciting' song and somehow get you involved. Maybe whispering some lyrics with a low voice, or get you to dance/move with him finding an excuse to touch you. Or maybe both at the same time.

You could also play the same game though. Maybe one night you're feeling particularly in a good mood and just wanted to dance/sing like there's no tomorrow, so you'd try to get Hyunjin involved in your fun, usually being successful. He'd get shy at first but would slowly start to let himself go too.

In the same situation, if you were feeling in a specific mood though, you'd try your best to seduce him. Again, maybe mouthing or singing some lyrics suggestively and giving him bedroom eyes. Or dancing in the sexiest way you could manage, swaying your hips, touching your body or straight up coming onto him and teasing him up close, inviting him to put his own hands on you.

At that point the level of attraction that he was already feeling just from seeing you being so carefree and confident in having fun would straight up turn into being horny. He'd follow your movements with his hands on your body, maybe joining for a while only to explode not long after.

Any surface would do. You'd be way too drunk on each other and with way too much tension to release to think straight. "Look how messy we are right now, and who's fault is that?" he'd whisper in your ear while fucking you against the dance practice room wall.

"I have no idea" you'd tease, making him chuckle breathlessly, before bringing his head closer with your hand to kiss him deeply.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

#silentcryracha #my writing #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids lee know #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids changbin #stray kids bang chan #hyung line skz #skz headcanons #skz x reader #skz smut #skz scenarios #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #bang chan

[let-roman-bite-someone]

it's been a while since i made an analysis here but as anyone else in this fandom, i've been speculating on orange. i know that by now, most people are convinced that orange is anger or something related to that.

however, we need to look at the previous patterns in order to figure out who orange might be. “the dark sides” were all facets of c!thomas that he was unwilling to accept or acknowledge. his anxiety, his ability and capacity for deception and probably the most jarring for him, the violent and/or disgusting thoughts that pop into his head without warning.

despite virgil's arc, anxiety was probably the easiest for thomas to accept. virgil didn't even have to introduce himself; thomas already knew he existed and while he was not happy about that, thomas had already accepted by that point that anxiety was a part of him. janus's existence was a harder pill to swallow and remus's was even harder.

so with all this, orange turning out to be anger (or wrath, rage, whatever you want to call it) would be a little underwhelming. while anger is not an emotion that is always encouraged, it's certainly not that hard to accept. especially compared to having repetitive intrusive thoughts about murdering people.

besides, thomas has already acknowledged his own capacity for anger before.

here, he refers to logan and roman having short tempers. they've shown this multiple times in the series too. if logan and roman are prone to anger, then it follows that thomas is also prone to anger and that he is aware of it. and regarding the nonchalant way he addressed it, i doubt he's troubled about his temper at all.

since there were only two short episodes before the introduction of virgil, we don't have enough context as to whether thomas was aware of his anxiety or how accepting he was of it. for janus and remus however, we have several instances of thomas either being in denial or being completely unaware of their existence.

regarding the concept of lying, thomas chose not to lie to people to the best of his ability. regarding intrusive thoughts, while there's no instances of thomas straight-up refusing to feed into them, he was a lot more "clean" before remus came along. he didn't swear as much and when he did, usually censored the swears (probably a conscious decision from thomas & co. but i think it had a canon reason too) and using more technical terms for sexual activities.

anyway, all of this is just a complicated way to get to the point, so i won't bore you any longer. my point is that orange would have to be something bigger, something more terrifying and that thomas would likely be in denial about.

one thing thomas has constantly been shown to fear is losing his friends and loved ones. this has surprisingly been a consistent theme from the early stages of the series.

a lot of the episodes like Making Some Changes, Can Lying Be Good and the SvS duology were centered around thomas's fear of losing his friends. friendship is very important to thomas and different situations in his life often feeds into the fear of being left behind.

now what is a common theme in all the scenes that orange has been hinted at?

the feeling of being ignored or belittled. logan gets mad at roman because roman mocks his attempts at trying to communicate honestly. SvS Redux has thomas feeling irritated and upset that lee and mary lee barely paid attention to him during the wedding. the intrusive thoughts asides video, of course, has both thomas and logan getting angry over being ignored.

so, with all this, i conclude that orange is desperation (n; a state of despair, typically one which results in rash or extreme behaviour). a need for validation, a need for attention and affection. thomas, at this point, is especially disturbed by a lot of things going on in his life. but a recurring theme throughout the show, especially after the introduction of janus and remus, is thomas's fear of driving away his friends. he is overly judgmental of each of his actions, worried that they may lead to him being lonely and left behind.

and again, in WTIT, thomas is also desperate to be noticed by nico. he fears dying alone but at the same time, he struggles to reach out to people. still, he makes the first move by texting nico but the fact that nico doesn't reply makes thomas more and more fearful of ending up alone. he is desperate for love and support, he is desperate for validation; but he needs to focus on himself and fix his own issues, if he wants to maintain a healthy relationship with other people.

like all the other sides, i think that orange is also only trying to help thomas. he's trying to get thomas to come to terms with the fact that nothing is stagnant. most things in life are temporary and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you'll be able to let go of any worries weighing you down. thomas just needs to face that fact and focus on living in the moment, instead of worrying about what could be. he also needs to have a little trust in himself and know that he's trying his best to be a good person.

and logan is the right person to target for this. because first off, logan himself is suffering from the desperate need for validation, he is visibly struggling to get to thomas. secondly, a sign of deteriorating mental health is when logic becomes clouded due to emotions and this affects a person's basic functioning, such as decision making, problem solving and if gone too far, even everyday activities. the one time logan temporarily left the group, we saw how much of a chaos the others were. i believe orange thinks that this is the only way to make thomas understand how dire the situation is.

so yeah, that's just my take on this whole orange deal. i could be completely wrong but it's still fun analyzing these things.

#sanders sides #janus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #thomas sanders #patton sanders #sasi #tss #remus tss #janus tss #logan tss #patton tss #roman tss #virgil tss #ts sides #ts roman #ts logan #ts virgil #ts patton #ts janus #ts remus #orange #ts orange side #sanders sides orange #tw intrusive thoughts #tw mention of death

[god-of-fandoms]

a scene from a wip im working on.

“Lightning is the most volatile of all the elements, Jay. You have the most training ahead of you out of all your teammates, because you will need to learn how to do the seemingly impossible: to control the storm inside of you.

This will be challenging, of course. Your powers will be strongest during moments of strong emotion, and unfortunately on the path of a ninja those are something you will face regularly. Grief, rage, joy: if unable to control your abilities, it is very likely you will lose yourself to the storm.

But know this, Jay. Out of everyone in the 16 realms, it is you and you alone who holds the potential to master lightning. You are intelligent and brave and so very strong, and I know that no matter what opponents you face or how many crises you will have to stop you will be able to stand up and keep fighting.

And that is the mark of a true ninja."

Wu's words from that day so long ago filled his head.

Jay had doubted his sensei's belief in him at first, despite the warmth that had blossomed in his chest from the speech.

After all, how could any of that be true? He was just a kid from a junkyard that had managed to somehow score an elemental power. Hell, he couldn't even control it!

As the years flew by, Jay slowly began to master his abilities. Lighting now took only the slightest effort to summon, and as his friends advanced their powers so did he.

And yet, despite training hard and focusing all of his efforts on improving his mastery, he still had the least control over his powers. Any strong emotional reaction - snapping during an argument, cheering after defeating Kai in a video game tournament, or crying over the ending of Starfarer volume 5 - resulted in him zapping himself or short circuiting any nearby electronics. And in moments when he was truly emotional? His powers wouldn't obey him, lashing out at anyone or anything near him.

It was frustrating and awful and made him cry sometimes, but this only strengthened hos resolve to do better. He found himself meditating with Wu many nights as his sensei taught him more about his abilities.

He and his friends grew older. Jay mastered his true potential, and continued training. His lighting was less volatile now, as if finally trusting its holder. He was still the worst at controlling his elemental energy, but he had mostly accepted it.

And yet.

In moments of true overwhelming emotion, his powers all but gave up on him. He had grown better at hiding it, but when it happened during battles he couldn't help but feel as if he was a failure to his team - to his family. He was supposed to be one of Ninjago's protectors, but here he was unable to do anything.

The occasions on which this happened, he would wonder why Wu ever chose him to be a ninja.

He went to his sensei about it, shortly after what had happened with the departed realm.

He explained his problems with his powers, tears burning tracks down his face as he drank the jasmine tea Wu had given him (to promote relaxation and reduce anxiety, his master had mentioned).

When he finished rambling, he waited (to be scolded? To be waved away with a scoff? To be told he was being dramatic? He honestly didn't know).

Instead, he had been surprised by a hand on his own.

"Oh, Jay," Wu had said softly, "There is nothing wrong with you. Your powers aren't broken, and you aren't failing anyone."

Jay hadn't realized he had stopped crying until those words made him start again.

Wu had explained that the reason his powers wouldn't obey him while emotional was because of how he dealt with said emotions.

"You do your best to bottle them away," his sensei scolded him lightly. "You seem to believe that you don't have the right to feel so strongly, and so you subdue those emotions. If you want to control this, you will need to truly feel that your feelings are valid."

Jay tried after that, he really did. Deep down, he knew he was allowed to feel any way he wanted, but it was hard. After all, his role on the team was the one who cracked jokes, who always had a bright outlook on life or a pun for when times were bad. If he couldn't fulfill that, what would his place even be anymore?

He explained his frustrations over the matter once again to Wu, who only had one thing to say.

"Forcing yourself to feel a certain way won't get you anywhere. The answer to this query will come to you eventually, don't worry."

And despite Jay's impatience and Wu's frustratingly vague advice, his sensei was right once again.

In the last eight months, he had been through hell and back. He was scarred and shattered.

He was filled with terror as he stood once again on the deck of the misfortune's keep, blue eyes locked with the yellow of the djinns.

The last time he had been here, those yellow eyes had been on him as well. They mocked him as he sobbed, powerless and broken, burdened by vengestone and the knowledge that he would never be the same again.

Nadakhan had ruined him. He had hurt his friends, destroyed Ninjago, and taken everything Jay had.

His hope.

His autonomy.

His freedom.

For the first time in years, Jay burned with pure unbridled rage.

And for the first time ever, his powers burned with him.

Nadakhan had ruined him.

But Jay was damned to hell if he wouldn't ruin the djinn as well.

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

Hi! Sorry if this is rough - like I said its a wip and I cranked it out in like 30 minutes. Its probably very all over the place because I wrote this at three am.

I hope you enjoyed this because I enjoyed writing it!

#jay walker #ninjago #skybound #ninjago jay #ninjago skybound #Lee's fics

[makoandharu]

many of my mutuals post rinharu, so i wanted to ask your top 10 makoharu official art to lighten my dash?

😭😭😭

Okay I'm definitely gonna post more than 10 bc i have a lot to say lmao bear with me

This one is my fave of all time, not just mh. But the thought of Haru stroking the cat's head and then lifting his hand to stroke the back of his fingers on Makoto's cheeks? My brain short-circuits

Now which one of us survived these two arts? Certainly not me. The fact that these are set post-canon, showing not only how their bond is stronger than ever but that Haru is the one initiating the contact, and the fact that it's proof beyond doubt that Makoto is SO significant to Haru's journey as a swimmer (when we already know he's significant - see: most important - in every other aspect of life outside the pool), the idea that he only got this far bc of Makoto, "it's meaningless without you" and "i appreciate you being here for me" walked so these arts could run. Thank u kyoani for canon makoharu visual guide.

I remember when this spoiler dropped it was just so 😮‍💨 honestly what makes this scene so peak for me is Ikuya walking past, watching them being gay and is like... u know what not my circus not my monkey. He's so valid for that. But overall the fact that Makoto knows Haru well enough to help here even when he's not his coach, the fact that Haru trust him when his body needs to be in peak condition. Stop it. Their trust and respect for each other just gets me.

Any art where other things are going on but Haru just has eyes on Makoto is peak (and there are an abundance of them). But art where Haru's precious water is splashing so beautiful and Haru's STILL only got heart eyes for Makoto? Pure gay nonsense.

MAKOHARUTOKYO MY BELOVED FOREVER!!!! The way this shit BROKE tumblr, nothing will ever compare again. They went to Tokyo together. THEY WENT. TO TOKYO. TOGETHER. I'm eating my hat.

Makoto being gay. What else is new. I like to think this is the exact face he makes when they go through their baby pics and Haru flicks his forehead for being moist (even tho he's being just as mushy inside)

Y'all remember when Makoto was studying too hard for finals and Haru came to make sure he didn't over do it, drapped his coat over a sleeping Makoto and fell alseep with him????????? Bc???? Helloo?????? Insanity.

As IF the art of them sharing a pair of gloves whilst they hold the other to keep warm wasn't bad enough u mean to tell me there's a drama CD to go with it? Will my suffering never end??

Last but not least (until i reblog this with more) this cute ass pic of them from the free calendar hanging out with the twins and cats. The domesticity of it all...

Hope u enjoy, stick around for more lmaoo

Also @ moots and other mhs pls reblog this with your own fave arts thank u

#i forget [redacted] are still around lmao i love carefully curated Internet experiences and the block and mute funtions <3 #free! #makoharu #nanase haruka #haruka nanase #makoto tachibana #tachibana makoto #ask #anon #fee talks

[ankles-be-bitten]

i may have fallen victim to the curse of the Bad Aziraphale Take with this post, so i'd like to right my wrongs:

i still agree with this, however i would like to add some insight: the metatron is definitely orchestrating their falling out. he knows exactly what he's doing & he knows that he can't control aziraphale as long as he has crowley on their side--that's emotional abuse 101. the victim is isolated from their real support systems, and the only place they have left to turn is their abuser. i believe that aziraphale knows what he's doing, and that he's just going along with heaven as far as he can in order to protect his demon, but from the metatron's perspective things have to look like they're going according to plan.

i think... maybe this is only half true? not sure what i was thinking when i wrote this; it was late. whatever.

crowley is an optimist, but he clearly had his doubts about how aziraphale would respond, which is indeed based in reality. aziraphale doesn't have a great track record as far as assuming the best of him in the moment (which, i must add, isn't his fault. it is one of his flaws, however). i think the important thing is that he trusts aziraphale to do the right thing in the end.

i still agree with this. however, i want to acknowledge that i felt this was unfair at the time, but in retrospect i was ignoring aziraphale's dependency on external validation that crowley does not have. crowley is far more independent than aziraphale, and i acknowledged this, but i framed it originally as "crowley has an unfulfilled need," rather than what i now think it really is, which is that AZI has an unfulfilled need.

yeah, there it is. different people, different needs.

as far as it being strange that aziraphale didn't pick up on what crowley needed in that moment right away, i do still feel that way--sort of. i honestly at this point just want to pin it down to him being excited.

whatever you have to say can wait--we have all of eternity to say whatever we want, in complete security. we won't have to hide. we can be together. and he wants so badly to be together. that's literally all he wants. he wasn't even a little interested in returning to heaven until the metatron told him that crowley could tag along. this is manipulation 101, people! the metatron knows, or at least can intuit, that crowley wouldn't want to become an angel again. he knows exactly what he's doing to them. this is not a good faith offer.

most of the rest of that post is me rambling about my interpretation of aziraphale's actions and the reasoning behind them. feel free to read the full take if you'd like, but i don't believe it's necessary to break down the whole thing. it mostly boils down to aziraphale needs to see people as people before he can respond properly to their needs. i may or may not still agree with that, i'm on the fence, but if that is the case, it's 100% because heaven has conditioned him to be that way. you need to earn salvation, you need to earn love, you need to earn humanity.

i originally used job as a counter example, but he may actually be a paragon of this interpretation. if anyone deserves salvation, it was job--righteous job, level-headed job, job who lost everything but never, ever lost faith in the Almighty. if anyone has earned aziraphale's sympathy, it's him.

this is just a wonky take. he does care, or else he wouldn't be making the offer. interrupting crowley might have been selfish in the short-term, but to aziraphale, the long-term result is eternity together unhindered. they will have all the time in the world to be an us if they can only get out from under the watchful, dangerous, probing eye of heaven.

i think i was getting close to the point here, but i was still framing it from the perspective that aziraphale had woefully wronged crowley, and that he's not also a victim of the system here. i was in far less certain terms falling into the "aziraphale is naive" trap, when in reality he just wanted to be safe. as archangel, he can do as he pleases without fear of retribution. he has never, ever felt safe before--not safe to ask questions, not safe to be seen with crowley, not safe to run off to alpha centauri with him. blaming him for prioritizing crowley's safety is more than a little silly.

this is just... the ick. it feels like a whole other person wrote this. i am trying so hard to give myself grace for this absolutely rot-gut take.

yikes. yikes yikes yikes. i'm not sure anymore if crowley has ever expressed a pointed distaste for being an angel again; that may just be misguided on my part. somehow i'm victim-blaming both of them here, while also completely misrepresenting aziraphale's intentions. i'm falling into the "he doesn't love crowley enough/the way he deserves" trap, painting him once again as naive, blind, and selfish. oopsie daisy.

i still believe the kiss was an offer akin to the ox rib, extremely alcoholic breakfasts, what have you. it's possible crowley doesn't feel seen--i might even go so far as to say that that's likely--but not in the way i stated originally. he's heartbroken. he's devastated. he might even feel betrayed. but just because he feels that way doesn't make it the truth, and i think a mistake i've made throughout this particular text is mistaking how aziraphale's actions look from the outside for his actual intentions.

i think this was mostly right up until the part about azi being selfish. he's far from selfish, he's not even close to naive. assuming he made a mistake in the f15 at all, he absolutely knows it now. he will do anything it takes to be with crowley.

at the time of this addendum i think he's made a Plan™ and is trying to convince himself he's made the right choice. all will make sense in the end. or maybe it won't. we'll figure it out--some things take time, and we don't have all the information.

i do believe that about covers it. in summary, they are both victims and treating either of them like they're naive or stupid for making the choices they did is unfair because they're both doing the best they can with the information they have available to them. it's heartbreaking, gut-wrenching, and really, really unfortunate. but it's neither of their fault. it's literally all the metatron. if heaven and hell were out of the picture, crowley would've been free to confess and aziraphale free to reciprocate--but that's just not their reality. everything aziraphale does is in order to keep crowley safe, in the interest of us long-term. crowley knows he has a hard time expressing himself, and so he wants to get it out fast, and that's valid; aziraphale having reservations due to safety concerns is just as valid.

it's neither of their fault.

#ineffables #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable wives #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #f15 #good omens #gomens #good omens meta #good omens analysis #good omens speculation #good omens spoilers #good omens brainrot #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens discourse #bad aziraphale takes #aziraphale defense squad

[verdantmeadows]

Settling the (Non-existent) Debate—Gary Prince is Taller Than Marshall Lee!

In the new Adventure Time Series, Fionna and Cake, we are introduced to many new characters that come from the original Fionna and Cake series within Adventure Time. With that, we are introduced to both Gary Prince, the human version of Prince Gumball, and Marshall Lee, who shares his name pretty much exactly with Marshall Lee the Vampire King.

However, with them, they brought a new debate.

Who's taller?

At first, most viewers assumed it to be Gary.

After all, you can see him here in episode 6, clearly above Marshall Lee in height. But wait! You might say. Marshall Lee is doing that weird little stance! It's making him shorter! Maybe he's slouching in all the times we see him close to Gary!

Perhaps you could argue that. However, we can even see Gary slouch right here.

And he's still above Marshall Lee's height! Maybe Marshall Lee's legs are giving him a LOT of height.

Although I somehow doubt that, if he is slouching here, which he was slightly before straightening his back, it's hard to imagine he'd manage to make up for the height difference between them by standing up even straighter.

Regardless, let's move onto their next episode, episode 7.

This episode makes things...confusing, as well. Marshall Lee is visibly slouching here, which seems to be putting him at the same height as Gary.

Standing up pretty straight here, they both seem to again be at the same height. But! Something important to notice. Gary's legs seem to be significantly longer than Marshall Lee's! They don't stop until much higher on his body.

Now, onto episode 9.

What...what is happening here? Marshall Lee is clearly taller than Gary in this.

Marshall Lee seems taller again here, but Gary is slouching a little...

From this positioning, Gary seems to be taller...again...

But then, towards the end of the episode, we get this!!! This shot of them gives us a LOT to go off of! Both of them are sitting at about the same position on the bed, but Gary's legs are hanging off a significant amount more. Even though Marshall Lee is shown slouching, Gary is a bit too, and, if he slouched more, he would almost definitely still be taller. This also makes it more obvious that his proportions are, overall, generally longer than Marshall Lee's. And, considering that Marshall Lee isn't wearing shoes, but Gary is, and they were out on their date earlier...we can infer that Marshall Lee being closer to Gary's height came from his shoes!

So! Who is taller?

Well, in all honestly, despite episode 6, I initially thought Marshall Lee was taller, due to their height on their date in episode 9. In fact, I believe on an earlier post about their height, I hesitantly proclaimed that Marshall Lee was taller than Gary.

Before I say more, I'd like to say that regardless of what's canon, any headcanons on their height are completely valid. Even if they conflict canon! I personally have many height-based headcanons in other series that conflict with canon. I just want this post to clear things up for their canon designs.

So far, we've had evidence for both sides of the debate, although it seems to be leaning in Gary's favor. And at the end of this post...I'd like to solidify that, with evidence that isn't shown on-screen!

Gary's concept art!

Although this is clearly not what he looks like in show, and he definitely isn't this tall in show, thanks to the "conspicuously tall" note and his conceptual height next to Fionna, we can deduce that the most likely intention is for Gary to be tall. Not just taller than Marshall Lee, but generally speaking. His various positioning next to Marshall Lee solidify this, and any discrepancies can clearly be connected to the additional height of shoes (which we then see Marshall Lee shorter without). Gary's concept art is the icing on the cake, proving that he has always been and likely is still intended to be a tall character.

So, to conclude...

Gary Prince is taller! And tall in general! (Although if your headcanons are different, that's of course valid!)

Thank you for reading!

#fionna and cake #gary prince #marshall lee abadeer #marshall lee #gumlee #garylee #I allowed myself to talk in a cringe manner while writing this. it was fun #book of kells