#as you can see I am not only incredibly funny but also incredibly creative

[oh-shit-i-spilled-my-genderfluid]

New concept for a packer:

a packer made out of glowstick material, so that if you get punched/kicked in the dick you’ll hear a crack and your crotch starts glowing. I will call my creation the Glowdick

#trans #trans humor #packer #trans packer #glowsticks #as you can see I am not only incredibly funny but also incredibly creative #glowdick

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Girl Code (18+)

pairing: student!jihoon x student!reader

genre: college au, angst, smut (MDNI), lotta crack, friends to...?

description: when you and your friends find out jihoon's been writing down everything you've off-handedly said about "girl code", you simply have to know why.

warnings: brief bondage/restraint, heavy insecurity on readers part, self-doubt, dirty talk, pet names, dom!uzi, sub!reader, desperation, oral (f. receiving), praise (f. receiving), muscly uzi, unprotected sex (dont do it guys....), pining, bad writing, red velvet are your friends, theyre super fun, mingyu is excluded badly, he just wants to b a part of it :(

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "i am simply a hole for him", "pussy? wet. heart? pounding. me? yearning", "every1 talks ab sapphic yearning but what ab just. jihoon-yearning?",

wordcount: 12.0k

a/n: idk why but this is deffo not as good as my previous works. n e way also sorry to @onlyseokmins bc i promised her a seokmin fic WHICH IS STILL COMING i just felt like this was kinda genius and needed to happen first ok bye

It’s mid-spring, and the world is blossoming and flowering around you. Grass sprouts greener, plants drink in the heavy rainfall and flowers are blooming, slowly unfurling their pedaled heads to crane into the beautiful sky. At odds with nature, people walk the street to be drenched in the downpour, only to be dried off by the shyly peeking sun, and to have freckles surfacing on their skin and hair, getting frizzy from the humidity, when they’re biking along the streets. It’s serene, it’s natural. You’re reminded to love the place that birthed and fostered you. 

But that’s out there.

You’re sitting, bottom planted firmly on the sticky surface of Joshua Hong’s couch, looking distantly into artificially colored lights, flickering across the floor, where people are dancing on one another in skimpy outfits and makeup, and everything is very far from the moon and the flowers. 

“The second one is a lie!” Seulgi yells over the music, cup of god knows what in her hand, and slurring her words.

Sitting on the couch and stools surrounding the coffee table is you, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Seulgi, Irene, Yeri and Jihoon.

“No, I know she likes anal!” Screams Soonyoung giddily (forever oblivious to his surroundings), receiving a glare from your roommate, Yeri. You were currently playing two truths and one lie, and attempting to discern whether Yeri was lying about being on television, lying about having black belt in taekwondo or lying about having tried anal. “It’s about whether or not she’s tried it!” Irene rolls her eyes and huffs. “My point still stands,” Soonyoung grins and eyes Yeri, and you watch somewhat disgusted, reminding yourself to ask her about it later.

You’re sitting next to Mingyu, utterly small next to him, and the two of you are only watching the scene unfold, sharing snickering glances when something funny happens. “I’ve never done taekwondo!” Yeri screams at Soonyoung, and you and Mingyu fall back in your seats laughing and slapping each other, when Soonyoung’s face drops for a moment. 

“They’re so dumb!” Mingyu cries, and you nod buried in a decorative pillow. 

“Screw this noise, I’m finding Junhui,” Hoshi mumbles, a little deflated from his loss. Then he’s standing up, cargo-pants and all, and trudging away, pouting over his shoulder when he hears the laughing continue.

Jihoon - who’s been incredibly quiet and observant throughout the night, only sipping a single bottle of beer, slaps his thighs. You’re hoping in his ever searching eyes he hasn’t seen the way you’ve been staring at him all night. Are you drunk or is he so complex and sexy, and wearing a t-shirt that shows his huge arms and pants that show his thick thighs? You’re almost certain you can chalk this up to only ever seeing him in sweaters that totally swallow him - almost. “I’m going too,” he announces, standing up and not leaving much room for argument.

“Why? I’ll be the only guy,” Mingyu whines, pout pushing out his bottom lip. You scoff. You know he loves feeling like he’s one of the girls. “Paper,” Jihoon says, and adds more, when he realizes he’s being so curt it’s almost rude: “Tomorrow. I have a paper tomorrow.” 

The group seems to accept this, knowing the stresses of college are weighing on each of them heavily. But your eyes narrow. You’re not buying it. 

You watch him sling his jacket across his body, biting back more words. He’s quiet, sure, but never this quiet. With how he’d slumped back in his seat all night, almost bent into himself, there must be something bugging him. Jihoon’s eyes meet yours. It’s a half a second, but you feel like he knows you’re on to him, the way he hides his face under his long, black hair again and turns his back to you. All of a sudden he’s hurrying away, excusing himself half-heartedly. You narrow your eyes even further and purse your lips.

“Be right back,” you say. Seulgi pouts.

You’re trudging after him, fussing with your hair all of a sudden and adjusting your dress and - God, you care so much how he sees you. But you suppose you care more that he’s okay. That’s why you’re squeezing through the dancefloor, getting grinded on by several anonymous bodies, before pushing out to the entrance and finally breathing air that wasn't coming directly from someone else’s mouth. 

“Jihoon, wait-” 

You catch up to him by the doorway, where he’s stopped his journey, to slip Vernon a bill for a ziploc of mediocre weed.

“Jihoon!” 

Finally, he hears you and he turns to you, where you’re regaining your last leg from the mass of bodies. Vernon is apparently still sober enough (you wouldn’t have thought so) to understand time and place, so he gently pushes past the two of you into the crowd. 

You’re not ready for the look he gives you. Eyes so sharp and face darkened from his shaggy hair, curling into his face, and frowning and furrowing his brows as if he couldn’t understand why you’re here. 

It sends your out-reaching body slamming backwards. You’re shrinking away from him, eyes flitting downwards self-consciously. You consider your history with him for a moment, weighing it in a glass of vodka-cranberry. This is pathetic, you realize, and it feels terrible. You’re pathetic and desperate and clingy and why would you feel the need to ask him this.

And then one moment to the next you’re scolding yourself for thinking that way. For thinking it was wrong to reach out a helping hand.

Jihoon apparently has enough of you debating with the angel and the devil on your shoulder, because he speaks finally: “What is it?” 

There’s a pause.

“Are you okay?” 

Another pause. You watch Jihoon’s face soften in shock, mouth falling open for a split second, before he’s closing it again and looking away. The ziploc crunches in his fingers, when they tighten and he shoves it into his inner pocket. 

“I’m good,” he says.

“Okay.” 

And this time and even longer pause! You can barely take it, the way he looks at you, and it almost feels like he suspicious of you, like he’s trying to discern what you’re doing here in front of him.

“Have a good night,” you say. He nods slowly and begins to walk off, and you watch him and the way the moonlight fills the entrance, so you’re coated in for a moment. Then it disappears with a slam of the door. You let out a shaky sigh. 

Why did you do that? Why would you even think to do something like that? 

You decide against standing there for any longer, not allowing yourself to overanalyze it, and you turn around to go back to your friends. Yet again comes the song and dance of trying to navigate the most terrifying human cesspool, face scrunching up in disgust as you make your way back to the sofa, almost unscathed, except you think you accidentally got caught in an armpit. 

“Y/n! Come quick, so you can be a part of this momentous- momentous.. Moment!” You hear Mingyu calling and when he’s finally in view, you realize something very, very terrible is about to happen.

Mingyu’s holding a leather notebook between his fingers - Jihoon’s notebook. It’s the one he’s always writing in; the one he shuts closed whenever anyone gets too close, the one he keeps tucked under his arm at all times; the one he’s inexplicably writing in, even if he’s blasted on Vernon’s weed. And it’s private and he’s somehow forgotten it.

“We’re not opening it,” you say immediately, power-walking back to your spot in the couch. Mingyu snaps his head towards you, and he almost looks offended at that. “What do you mean we’re not opening it, of course we’re opening it!” 

“It could be private, Gyu!” You retort and Seulgi chimes from her spot on the couch: “I’m with Y/n.” 

“No, what? Fuck you guys! We’re seeing what’s in that notebook!-” Irene spits. “Thank you!” Mingyu says.

“Yeri, it’s up to you,” you say, eyeing your roommate sharply, as you sit down again. The entire group turns to her, fury behind their retinas, and she gulps, shrinking a little. 

“Me, I just…” she shrugs abashedly and trails off. There’s a moment where you think she’ll side with you and leave the poor boy alone. You have some semblance of faith in your friendship, and maybe, maybe she’ll back you-

“He’s a music major, it’s probably just angsty lyrics, now open!” 

“Yes!” Irene and Mingyu gloat, and despite wanting to respect his privacy, you scoot closer to Mingyu (he scoffs at you, but does not mention it further, as he is itching with curiosity). With a solemn, heaved sigh, as if about to unfurl the world’s grandest mysteries, Mingyu’s large hand flips the book open.

There’s no justified way to put word to the shock that follows this. The first page reads:

“Girl Code Rule #1

Guys should bring flowers on the first date. Either lilies, roses or tulips. Depends on vibe.”

There’s a confused silence - as much as silence as you can get from a bass-boosted room of drunk college students. 

“What?” Irene quacks in disappointment, leaning closer to read it again. “Why-.. Go to the next page.” And Mingyu does, turning over the page and the next couple of pages follow suit. 

“Girl Code Rule #2

Whoever offered the date pays for dinner. First date should always be dinner, ‘none of the bowling crap’.

Girl Code Rule #3

Guys are more attractive the more hygienic they are.

Girl Code Rule #4 

It’s an ick to wear skinny jeans. *Google what an ick is.”

They come one after another, each more confusing than the last, and it’s not until number 5, that the heavy, suffocating spread of realization begins blooming among you. Clarity - your minds open like leaves of a flower in spring.

“Girl Code Rule #5

The cinema on Attacca street is a nightmare and we hate them. Never go there.”

“That’s-” you begin.

“Us!” Yeri finishes, pointing her finger at the page but directing her eyes, wide and pupils small from shock, towards you. The group exchange gaping glances. It’s undeniable - the cinema thing is relating to an incident that had happened months prior. You refuse to go into detail, but it had gotten grim.

“These are all things we’ve said!” Seulgi snatches the book out of Mingyu’s hold, beginning to mindlessly scroll through the book with furrowed brows, etch growing deeper and deeper in outrage. 

“That’s- This is crazy. That’s so not cool!” You shriek and Yeri nods in agreement: “Girl code is for girls only!” 

There’s a general agreement on the outrageousness of this. That is, except for one big boy on the couch.

“I meaaaan,” Mingyu is looking a little sheepish sitting in the middle of you and Yeri and Seulgi and Irene. All eyes flit towards him, small and sharp. He’s talking slowly, lowly and carefully:  “You guys have to have said it out loud while he was there, so you weren’t exactly being discreet…” 

“Men don’t usually listen to women, we thought we were in the clear!” Irene hisses.

“No man has ever listened to me in my entire life,” Seulgi deadpans, looking at Mingyu from beyond the book. Mingyu throws his hands out, incidentally hitting Yeri in the face, and ignoring her pained groans when she falls back on the couch. “I listened. Just now. Check that off your list-” 

“Why is he writing this down..?” You mumble, seemingly the only one grasping the gravity of the situation (although maybe there is none? You can never tell when it’s with him) and it truly is such a mystery. Was he attempting to pry open the minds of women? You don’t exactly think he has trouble finding dates, so you’re left a little at a loss. 

“Let’s ask him-” Mingu says.

“He just left, dumbass,” Irene spits and you can tell she’s almost disgusted with herself for ever siding with him.

“Let’s ask him tomorrow, then, after class,” you say decidedly. 

“Ugh, don’t talk about tomorrow..” Yeri groans, and you can see the regret settling in because why do all the hot guys throw weeknight parties? “Y/n, can we go home?” she asks and you’re nodding immediately.

“Seul?” 

“Yep.” 

And in the span of just a couple of seconds, your entire friend group is packing up, Seulgi stuffing the book into her tote bag. Mingyu’s still sitting, much smaller when you’re standing over him, and when he has that almost starstruck look on his face. “I’m so glad I’m a part of this, guys.” 

“You’re not.” 

“You’re not.” 

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu counters, clearly thinking otherwise. He’s grinning stupidly. “Hey, wait, where are we confronting him tomorrow?” he calls out suddenly, but you’re already on your way out.

“GUYS! WHERE ARE WE MEETING?”  _____________________________

You, Yeri, Seulgi, and Irene sit side by side on the middle-back row in class, eyeing Jihoon from the peaks. It’s a quiet, morning class, and the teacher rambles on while the four of you glare down at him. Or at least they glare. You hope it’s not noticeable how there’s something softer in your eyes - something almost tender. He’s fidgeting a little. Maybe he feels the pairs of eyes on the back of his black-buried head or maybe he’s noticed the book is gone and he feels the consequences coming.

It was certainly a strange situation to tackle. Mingyu did have a point, if it was a private conversation, you certainly had not discussed it as such. And even then, was there a crime in what he was doing? You just couldn’t understand how Jihoon possibly felt the need to garner all this information on women. He’d never had trouble picking up girls. You would know.

You shake the terrible, terrible thought away, when Irene speaks up: “The coward is all nervous.” 

“Okay, let’s calm down. We can’t know he’s an evildoer, before we find out his true intentions.” Seulgi reasons, a hand soothing over Irene’s arm. Yeri nods softly. “God, I wish class was over.” 

And suddenly it was. Well, twenty more minutes of suffering through a class that was totally lost, picked up by the pollen-saturated wind. Then the professor is excusing himself and wiping the board. 

Never in your life had your group been so fast at packing up their things, pencils and computers shoved down bags, before you’re strutting (model-walking) over to Jihoon. “We need to talk to you,” Yeri says, once she’s in front of his desk, hand on the wood. Jihoon looks up from where he’s packing his bag, eyes peeking through the thick strands of hair. He nods. He knows. 

As you wait for students to exit the class (Minghao giving Jihoon a confused grimace, before he squeezes out), you study Jihoon. He’s still sitting, and you’re all towering over him. His pale skin is glowing in the light and he purses his lip and bounces his leg - God, his thick leg - in nervous await. 

Students are slipping out the door in droves and when the last, tired body escapes, Seulgi reaches into her bag and pulls out the leather-bound book. “We read it.” 

“I figured,” he mutters. He’s avoiding your eyes, flinching a little when Irene slams her hand onto the book. “So, why have you been writing down the girl code?” 

Jihoon sighs. His lips make a tight line, and you can see how he wonders what to say. The pause would’ve been more tense had you not had the girls with you. 

“The girl code is for girls only,” Yeri supplies. 

“Well, you weren’t exactly being discreet about it-”

“Just answer the question, Jihoon!” Seulgi snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is, like, top-level strange.” 

“Alright!” Jihoon throws his hands up in the air. His eyes flit to you, totally quiet and scratching your nails on the wooden table. You look away. He sighs a little. “I… It’s..” 

You almost want to hug him when he buries his face in his hands, tugging at the ends of his hair. 

“You can’t tell anyone.” 

The four of you exchange glances.

“We won’t.” 

He pauses.

“It’s.. IhaveacrushonthisgirlandIdon’twanttomessitup.” 

There’s a beat, where the information glides cooly into your skulls and you begin to process. Jihoon - cold, cynical, loner Jihoon - has a crush on a girl and is trying to improve himself for her? 

Holy hell.

“Jihoon!” cries Seulgi and Irene chimes in, equally as adoring and diffused: “That’s so cute, you should’ve just said something!” 

There’s an uproar of coos and cries and oohs and ahhs and compliments being thrown at Jihoon and he just sits there, cheeks blazing bright red, although with a little, shy smile on his lips. 

And then there’s you. It’s so dumb. Why can’t you help the slight disappointment that lowers on you, like the fog does in the blooming season? Why can’t you smile wider, happier for Jihoon? Why do you feel this way? Does it really take all this commotion for you to realize how much you want him? You half-smile and look at your shoes. Just as how your feelings blossomed like a flower in spring, you hope they, too, are destined to wither away once more. 

“Congratulations,” you say to him, giving him a dignified nod. Jihoon looks at you for a moment, before he smiles tightly and thanks you.

“Jihoon!” Yeri says, and you know you’re about to hate her for what comes next: “We can totally help you with the crush!” 

Jihoon’s eyes widen. “Really? I mean- you guys don’t have to-” 

“No, no! You can come to our girls’ nights and we can tell you everything!” Irene cuts in, nodding in reassurance. Jihoon smiles to himself a little sheepishly.

“Who is it?” Seulgi asks, and you can tell her heart is triple its usual size.

“I’m not telling you.” 

“Come on!” Seulgi begs, but Jihoon is steadfast. He gives her cheeky smile and shakes his head again. “No way. It’s my secret.” 

“We can keep a secret!” Yeri begs, bending her knees in plea. You, unusually quiet, speak up again: “We can.” 

There’s a pause while Jihoon looks at you again. He narrows his eyes and it’s almost like he’s trying to decode you. Maybe he’s noticed you’re just as quiet as he was, at that party. You hate yourself when your heart picks up at the thought of him caring about you. 

Suddenly he’s snapping out of it and smiling and shaking his ruffled head of hair again. “No. If girl code was supposed to be a secret, then I don’t even wanna think about telling you.”

This time there’s no talkback, only somewhat embarrassed nods.

“We deserve that.”  _____________________________

You come back to your dorm room that afternoon, and lie down in bed. Thoughts of Jihoon plague your mind and you feel disease-ridden, attempting to push away the thought with the same useless reminder: You should do your paper, gotta do your paper now, it’s due very soon…

But no matter how many times you tell yourself, you can’t overcome the crushing feeling in your chest, like your entire rib cage is being compressed. 

You know when these emotions started. It was at the Halloween party, six months ago, and Jihoon had been wearing a cop-outfit and you, with a more humorous approach, a lobster costume (Mingyu was a chef). Somehow, he’d still found you sexy though, because he was laughing in the bathroom of Seungcheol’s frat house, ripping the costume off of you. 

“I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck a lobster,” he’d said in between kisses, laughing again as he caught sight of the costume, discarded on the floor. You giggled. “Me neither. There are plenty of fish in the sea, you know?” 

And he’d thrown his head back, still with that black hair, still in that sexy fucking uniform, and his nose all scrunched and adam’s apple bopping in time with his joyful laughter. “Stop making me laugh while I’m trying to get you wet!” 

“I’m already wet,” you’d shrugged, “you’re hot.” 

And before you knew it you were handcuffed and he was rutting into you against the sink. His cock was disappearing and reappearing from your pussy, hooked onto him like a vice. Groaning and listening to your withheld moans, he’d left the most sinful hickies along your shining neck, while mumbling desperate praises to you: “You’re so pretty, N/n, letting me have you like this, so fucking hot.” 

You supposed you’d buried those feelings, because you felt so pathetic for catching feelings from a one night stand.

And it is pathetic. And you are pathetic, and desperate, and alone, and God, is it even Jihoon, or is it the way it suddenly feels like no one wants you? 

“Stop that,” Yeri says suddenly, lying on her bed on the opposite side of your room. You tilt your tired eyes towards her. “What?” 

“I can hear you thinking. What’s up?” She said nonchalantly, dropping her phone, that she’d been mindlessly scrolling through. Cheeks bunched up on your pillow and mascara smudging under your eyes, you look at her and sigh.

“Just tired,” you hum. _____________________________

Jihoon has been adopted. For a whole week following that incident, suddenly, your friends are taking him with them everywhere, and your safe space is invaded by his hair, his laugh, and his subtle cologne. It’s him with you during movie nights, it’s him during girls’ nights, and it’s him while you’re getting ready for a bar-night, all sitting in Irene and Seulgi’s pink-tastic room, doing makeup on the floor and on the desks and on the bed. 

“I love your eye makeup,” Seulgi says to Yeri (it’s a pink number with glittery inner corners), under eyes totally covered in white powder, as she’s baking her makeup. Jihoon is sitting on the floor, hair tied up in two pigtails that Irene had given him. “Thank you, Seul.”

You’re doing your own makeup, working blush into your cheeks and trying not to look at him, the way he’s half-lying on the carpeted floor, looking absentmindedly into his phone. His thighs are huge, and he’s wearing gray sweatpants, and you think you’re going insane.

Irene (who’s done with her makeup before anyone else, always) looks up from her own phone. She narrows her eyes deviously. “Jihoon, what do you think of Yeri’s makeup?” 

Jihoon snaps his head up, pigtails bouncing. “Uh,” he looks a little lost, when he turns his head over to Yeri, who smiles sheepishly, not totally understanding what was happening. “It’s nice.” 

“Just nice?” Irene smirks, and Jihoon finally seems to catch on to the fact that this is some sort of test. Indeed it was, and you knew it from the moment Irene began to talk. Your eyes flit between them, sitting behind you in the mirror. “Can you elaborate on that?” Irene smirks.

“It’s…” Jihoon considers what to respond, almost nervous. “She looks better without makeup.”

“Son, no!”

“Never!”

“Absolutely not!” 

It’s a cacophony from the girls, even a pillow is thrown at his head, which he dodges in shock. “Never say that to a girl, Jihoon! It’s rude!” Irene lectures, a finger pointedly thrown in his direction. When he doesn’t seem to get it, Yeri explains: “Imagine spending time on something, only for someone to say they’d wish you hadn’t done it all.” 

Jihoon, who’s been bristling like a disturbed cat up until now, softens in understanding. “Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, our child, you’re learning,” Irene says, face turning back to her phone, as she apparently has lost interest in the conversation. 

You watch quietly with a bemused smile, having paused your ministrations on your face, brush held in the air before you. Jihoon’s eyes flicker over to you, an unreadable expression on his face. You meet his eyes in the mirror, pitch black and blank. You look away quickly.

You can feel him, still looking at you, and you feel self-conscious at the way you crooken your back to better focus on your face. What’s he thinking? That you look ugly? That your back is ugly? Your makeup?

“Are you okay, Y/n?” 

You freeze. His voice is soft as ever, and you understand now, better than ever, why he’s a music major, because it’s so melodious and sweet in your ears. All eyes in the room snap to you and you eye them all in the mirror. “Yep.” 

Yeri sighs, exasperated. “She’s been depresso for, like, a week.” 

“I’ve been fine,” you correct, smudging out the pencil on your lid. “I’ve been fineeee,” Yeri mocks, making her voice nasally and high. You glare at her through the mirror, but all she does is stick her tongue out at you. 

“I’m just stressed out, okay? I've got a lot on my plate,” you mumble bitterly, and it’s true, because every time you’re trying to do assignments, papers, write notes and focus in class, you think of him, and how he doesn’t want you. And one wrong thing leads to another, and then you’re thinking about how no one wants you, and you haven’t had a boyfriend since you entered college. And then it’s something about how you look, or it’s something about how you are, as a person, and you just sit at your desk with this terrible feeling in you gut, trying not to cry, or hoping that your sniffles don’t overpower Replay by Shinee blasting in Yeri’s headphones, as she’s eating crackers in bed, just a few feet away from you. 

“Just talk to us if you need anything, okay?” Seulgi frowns and you smile at her, hoping it looks convincing. She nods at you, turning back to her handheld mirror. But alas one person stays staring at you. You avoid his eyes, trying not to look like you’re about to cry.

“I can arrange a spa day? We can get our toes done,” Irene asks, and she wiggles her toes in the air for emphasis. “Ooo, yes!” Yeri exclaims. 

Finally, Jihoon’s attention is ripped from you, wincing at the thought of another person handling his feet. “Can I skip out on that, maybe?” 

Irene scratches her chin, pretending to think about it. Then she says, bluntly and directly: “Nah.” 

_____________________________

“Let me come with you to the spa!” 

“No! Jihoon, walk faster,” like a mother, Seulgi is grabbing Jihoon’s wrist and dragging him further from the tall, huge man behind you. Mingyu is following you all like a dog, whining and crying, and pouting. “Please, guys! I don’t wanna go with Seungcheol and Jeonghan, they’re mean!” 

“Spa day is for girls only!” Yeri yells over her shoulder, as the five of you stumble away from Mingyu, crying out to you. “What about him?” Mingyu yells and points. 

“Don’t listen to him, sweetie,” Seulgi tells Jihoon and he nods very seriously. “He’s our adopted son! Now shoo!” 

Finally Mingyu gives up the chase, and you disappear behind the outerwall, beginning down a busy street towards Irene’s favorite spa. “I don’t get how you’re friends with that guy,” Irene says, elbowing you, and you both snicker. “He’s a pup,” you shrug.

The streets are filled with people, the sun is shining, and it’s spring, and everything should be great, because you’re with your friends. But he’s here too. Swallowed up by his hoodie, pitch black in a sea of colors, he’s still here and his very presence has you tense, and yearning for the touch of a masseuse. The streets that had grown so familiar, that you thought you had learnt and mastered, had become so foreign, and you’re trying to escape into yourself, trying to find a backdoor out of the constant blabbering, teaching Jihoon the importance of gossip and female communication and companionship. These are your friends. The sadness eventually musters into frustration.

Soon enough, you’re sighing so hard you think your soul escapes with it through your mouth. A spa-worker begins massaging your feet, and working her thumbs into your sore soles. Irene laughs at your reaction, two seats over. “Told you all you needed was a spa day!” she beams. Yeah, a spa day and maybe a new friend group that wouldn’t adopt the guy who you should certainly not be around!

And speaking of him, he’s sitting in the chair right next to yours, grimacing and flinching back from the disdained worker. 

“What are you gonna tell her?” Yeri quips, smiling at the end of the row. Jihoon takes a second to snap out of his constant flinching, looking over at her nervously. “Oh, uh…” 

The girls are all looking at him expectantly, but you’re squeezing your eyes shut and wishing your ears could shut too. 

“Probably, like.. ‘Hey, I like you, would you maybe wanna go out on a date sometime?” 

“Pssh!”

“Absolutely not!”

“As if!” 

Jihoon is a little flabbergasted.

“Here’s what you’re actually gonna say,” Seulgi leans over in her chair towards him, directing him with a finger in her armrest. You hear Jihoon scramble in his chair, and you know he’s taking out that stupid notebook again.

Seulgi lowers her voice to mimic his, when she talks again: “‘Hi, crush, how are you?’ Wait for her response… Then: ‘I’ve always thought you were very beautiful. Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date, would that be okay with you?’ And be suave about it.” 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH.”

Yeri and Irene burst into laughter, hitting the armrests of their chairs and covering their bright smiles with their hands. Even you snort in amusement. “What?!” Seulgi exclaims, outraged. “What’s so funny about that?” 

“Nothing, I just-...” Irene wafts herself, trying to ease away that tears of glee that spring in her eyes. “I can’t imagine any man, let alone our son, saying that to a woman.. Wow.” 

“It’s good! I would be flattered,” Seulgi defends herself viciously. Yeri snorts from her seat: “It’s not a drama, Seul!” 

“Well!” Seulgi scoffs, twisting her upper body to face Yeri now. “Maybe I would like my life to be a drama, thank you very much!” 

Their argument continues viciously, insults and laughter being thrown at each other left and right and you can almost begin to tune them own, letting the feeling of pads on your feet and a gentle, cool brush on the nail lure you to sleep.

Then there’s a hand on your forearm. You peek an eye open and see him - God, it just has to be him - leaning over his chair to gently grasp you. He looks at you through lashes, and he’s so sincere that it kills you when he says: “I can tell you’re not okay.” 

You’re a little taken aback, one second prior you were being lulled to sleep and now he’s talking to you, so low, so seriously, while the girls try to attack each other behind him. You wish your heart isn’t suddenly galloping, and you wish his warmth on your arm and radiating onto you isn’t so nauseating. “I-”

“Don't say you are, when you're not. You’re very obvious, you know?” he hums, smiling softly when he sees you flush from his intense gaze. You avert your eyes nervously. “Uhm. I just.. I don’t really want to talk about it, Hoon.” 

You flick your eyes back up to his to survey his reaction. His expression softens at the nickname, and he holds your gaze for a moment longer, before he nods in understanding, all the warmth of his closeness disappearing, when he sits back down in his seat.

“That’s okay,” he smiles at you in reassurance, and your heart leaps, and you can’t help but think that he doesn’t need anymore training to make his crush - whoever the lucky girl is - completely and totally happy for several lifetimes. 

He’s a beautiful, sun-beamed flower, where he sits, light flitting through the store-front windows. You’d be happy for several lifetimes. If only he wanted you. _____________________________

“What is going on?!” 

It’s Mingyu, and he’s somehow found you, as you’re trudging out of your latest class, suddenly hot on your trail and outraged about something or other. “What?” you mumble, heading to the cafe near the end of the hall.

“With Jihoon?! Why does he get to be your son when I don’t?!” Mingyu wafts his arms and pouts and you cringe, leaning away from his loud voice. “Ugh…” 

“I need to know why he was writing that girl code stuff, Y/n. Why is he suddenly allowed at girls’ nights, when I’ve been trying to get in for months?!” 

You take a turn into the cafe and sigh at how crowded it is, immediately placing yourself in line, Mingyu right behind you. “Calm down,” you say, just wanting a sandwich and maybe some peace and qui-

“I will not!” he snaps back, brows furrowed and a determined look on his face. You look up at him, pursing your lips in thought. Did Mingyu deserve to know? Maybe. He had been trying to get into girls’ nights forever, always going on about being ‘an honorary member’. 

“I’m not sure I can tell you- Hey, can I get a tuna sandwich, please?” You say, quickly turned to the clerk behind the counter. “I won’t tell anyone, pleaseee- Can you get me one of those too? Thanks.”

You’re handed your sandwiches, and you hold both of them, drifting over to a table by the window, both of Mingyu’s hands on your shoulders and his voice in your ear: “Please, please, please, pretty please with the sugar on top?”

You plop down in your seat, simply exasperated, and hand him his sandwich. He’s settling himself down when you answer: “Okay.”

“Yes!” Mingyu fists the air in victory, mumbling self-assured under his breath: “Begging always works.” You snort and take a big bite of your sandwich. 

“Stop eating and tell me!” he whines. “I’m hungry– Hey!” 

Mingyu snatches the sandwich right out of your hands and grins at you deviously, dancing with it. You hate him. You hate him, but it is a little endearing.

“Jihoon has a crush on some girl and he’s been writing down the girl code in an attempt to understand women,” you deadpan, and when Mingyu’s mouth and guard drops, you snatch your sandwich back and begin gulping down hungrily. 

“Are you shitting me?!” You shake your head.

“So, that's why he's allowed at girls’ night?” You nod your head. 

“So, that’s why you’ve been so down?” You almost choke on your food.

“What?” 

“Because you like him,” Mingyu says seriously and, with a totally stunned look on your face, you shark down the bits of sandwich in your mouth painfully. “How do you know that?!” you cry, head suddenly snapping in seventy different directions, relief washing over you, when none of your or Jihoon’s friends are around.

“Because you’ve been acting all weird around him since you fucked at Seungcheol’s Halloween party,” Mingyu shrugs. You wave your arms wildly.

“How do you know that?!” Whining, you throw yourself back in your seat, and bury your head in your hands. This couldn’t be happening. Your delicate secret, the one that could have - should have - simply faded away into summer, was now out and open, and you look out the window, and it’s spring.

“I know everything,” Mingu says ominously, giggling evilly.

“Mingyu, I will fucking kill you.”

“Fine! I needed to pee and you guys were super loud,” Mingyu pouts and takes a bite of his own sandwich. “No need to be so rude.” 

“I can’t believe you know,” you groan, head collapsing on the table. Mingyu, forever and always silly, finally softens and frowns. You’re scattered. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“No,” you say. Then, a moment later (in true Girl Code fashion) you’re lifting your head from the table and burying it in your hands: “I just. I don’t know, Mingyu. I feel so pathetic for liking him after a one night stand! And now he’s doing all this for another woman and he’s with us all the time…I haven’t had a boyfriend in college, Mingyu. I just feel so…” There’s a pause, when you’re trying to find the right word, and Mingyu stops breathing, looking at you and fearing the worst. Then comes the word, ripping itself from your lips:

“Unlovable.” 

Mingyu’s frown deepens. Big, puppy Mingyu who’s always silly and happy, just slumps in on himself. “You’re not unlovable,” he mumbles, sounding genuinely disbelieving. You scoff.

“Thanks, Mingyu, it’s just.. That’s how it feels,” you admit, running a hand through your hair and looking at your half-eaten sandwich on the table. Mingyu’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks up again, he’s determined, and you can discern almost immediately that there’s no escaping this plan. Or he’ll for God’s sake start begging again.

“I’m going to wingman you,” he’s nodding to himself, and you can see the plan falling into place in his head, “I’m gonna wingman you and set you up with my friend at the party on Saturday!” 

“Please, don’t,” you groan half-heartedly, but a piece of you brightens with hope, with summer, like maybe this was the thing you needed to get over your schoolgirl-crush on Jihoon.

“No,” Mingyu responds simply. “This is happening.”  _____________________________

Indeed, it is happening. 

The frat house is practically bumping with each beat of whatever pop song is playing over the speakers, and you lean into the rhythm that reverberates in the kitchen table beneath your fingers.

You somewhat wish that you hadn’t been as excited for this as you were, that you hadn’t spent hours picking out the perfect pink dress and doing your makeup, and that you aren’t hopelessly dependant on Mingyu (of all people) to find you a fuck. But you are. Putting on that dress and hoop earrings and doing your hair and declining Yeri’s invitation to the girls’ (and Jihoon’s) pre-party, you feel like you’re scrambling, like constantly falling through the air, flailing for something to ground yourself on. 

Now, scanning over the tinted lights and the dancing people and feeling the slight, warm buzz of vodka in your blood, you know you need this. And still, you combat that slight anxiety, the insecurity that you hadn’t felt in years - what if Mingyu couldn’t find a single guy that wanted you? 

Mingyu doesn’t seem worried though.

“Okay! We just gotta figure out who to set you up with. Take your pick,” he places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing and gauging your reaction. Your brows furrow as you shrug. Somehow, even when half the guys are objectively hot, you can’t say you find yourself drawn to any of them. You don’t linger on the feeling, fearful that maybe you’ll realize all the things they’re missing, the things they’re falling short of, are just Jihoon’s traits. “I don’t know, man. I just-..” 

Mingyu senses your struggle and elects to give you his excellent guidance. “Alright, well you could do Joshua?” He’s pointing somewhere in the crowd, and sure enough, you notice Joshua, majoring in communications or something like that. “He’s a star: total hottie, super smart, sweet and considerate, and-” 

“And he fucked Yeri,” you deadpan, head lolling over to look at Mingyu disapprovingly. Mingyu’s mouth falls open: “What?!”

“Yeah, like, two months ago!” you argue, wafting your hands. Mingyu’s mouth stays open, and he’s seemingly totally appalled by this. 

“What?! Okay- nevermind. How about him?” He points his long limbs again, and this time you notice- 

You narrow your eyes confusedly. Hopefully Mingyu was not trying to set you up with the biggest player in your year? “Jeonghan?!” 

“What? No, the guy beside him, dickwad,” he playfully smacks the side of your head as you refocus your eyes. Indeed, a blonde guy is standing next to Jeonghan, seemingly whining at him. “Who’s he?” 

“Lee Chan. Super sweet, great bod, a little dumb, but very doting-” 

“Is he a freshman?!” you cry, almost as if it were a crime. Mingyu huffs. “You’re not making this easy, you know?!” 

“I’m not dating or fucking a freshman,” you cross your arms and Mingyu senses the air of finality in your words. He sighs, slumping behind you for a moment, before he spots something across the room.

“Wonwoo! What about him?” he doesn’t even bother pointing at this point, simply tilts your head towards the man, who was currently talking to Seungcheol a little ways from the kitchen. You spot him. You suppose you’d always been a little curious about Wonwoo. From what you’d seen of him in passing, he was sweet and polite, absolutely gorgeous and extremely smart. You nod solemnly.

“I could- I could see that,” you say and Mingyu’s eyes light up. He bounces victoriously, punching the air. “He’s great, you’re- you’re gonna love him,” Mingyu delights and before you can even get another word in, Mingyu’s yelling across the room: “Hey, Wonwoo! Wonwoo, scootch over here!”  

Your eyes widen in shock. “Wha- we’re doing this now? Just, on the fly? No warning?” 

“It’s fine,” Mingyu waves you off, eyes trained on where Wonwoo is now walking towards you. 

“Do I look okay?” your voice is wavering nervously. You still can’t help how you feel, even in your dress and your makeup. Where had all your confidence gone? The confidence with which you’d literally fucked Jihoon in a lobster-costume? Even the thought of him stings. Mingyu’s confident facade falters for only a split second at the vulnerability in your tone. His gaze softens and he looks at you: “You look great, N/n. Calm down, Wonwoo’s super nice.” 

“Hey, Gyu,” Wonwoo’s voice is cool, as he approaches Mingyu. Standing in front of you and Mingyu, he briefly scans you, then acknowledges you with a nod and a sweet smile. “Wonwoo, hey, you know, I was just wondering if you’ve already done the history paper?” 

Wonwoo is unamused. “I’m not doing your paper again, Mingyu.” 

“Oh well, shucks, that’s simply too bad,” Mingyu (poorly) feigns annoyance and defeat, before he’s grabbing your shoulder. “Anyway, Wonwoo, have you met my very good friend, Y/n?” 

You fake a smile, hoping the absolute pain of the current interaction was not showing on your face. If you’d known Mingyu was this bad at wing-manning, you would’ve gladly put up with his begging instead. You want to crawl into a hole and die, because based on Wonwoo’s smug smile, he has a pretty good understanding of what’s happening.

“Whoops, look at the time!” Mingyu looks at his wrist. He is not wearing a watch. “Damn, I guess I gotta go and- and leave my two good friends alone with each other, such a shame, uh, anyway!” As he speaks he backs further and further from you, trying to ignore the glare in your eyes, before he’s bolting at his last word. 

There’s an awkward silence as soon as Mingyu’s gone. You feel like an unshelled turtle. You purse your lips and stare at your heel-clad feet. 

“So, Mingyu was trying to wingman you?” Wonwoo’s voice is deep and bemused. You look at him in horror, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation.

“Yeah,” your breathe, and he immediately begins laughing. “Sorry about that, he was- he was just trying to be helpful, although it’s hard to defend him right now.” 

“He’s wingmanned me before, too,” Wonwoo muses and, thank God, this was actually a good thing. You find a balance on the common ground. “Really?” you grin, looking up at him.

“Yep,” Wonwoo admits, “safe to say I did not get my dick wet.” 

You laugh hard, and it feels like a switch has flipped inside you, restarting your joy-generator, because you’re laughing and hitting Wonwoo’s arm, and he’s smiling because he’s just made a pretty girl laugh. 

“He’s so bad!” you say when you’re done laughing. “Everytime!” Wonwoo drawls, “Everytime he pulls that shit and he’s never wearing a watch!” 

You and Wonwoo laugh together, throwing (good-hearted) snarky comments about Mingyu around, and your cheeks are rosy and shining in the kitchen-light. Finally, party still bumpin’ and pumpin’ in the near distance, your laughter dies down and you’re both half-leaning against the counter. Wonwoo looks down at you with a smug smile. 

“What?” you ask, growing insecure again under his gaze. He hums.

“So you asked for me?” 

“Hm?” 

“When Mingyu was wingmanning you,” Wonwoo reminded you, tilting his head. “You asked for me?” 

“I-” you stutter, and your heart clenches nervously, because if things had been right, if things were different at least, you would have asked for Jihoon. It’s this gut-punching guilt. It feels wrong to use him, Wonwoo, to overcome Jihoon. “He was laying down my options.” 

“Options?” Wonwoo quips, brow raised questioningly, but he doesn’t interrogate further. Instead, he leans his head down, so he’s much, much closer to you, breathing hitting your face when he whispers: “But you wanted to fuck me. Isn’t that right?” 

You gulp. His presence is almost suffocating. Avoiding his eyes, you flicker them onto the dancefloor, where- 

Where Jihoon is storming out of the house. 

You squeeze your eyes shut - something Wonwoo thinks is out of embarrassment, from the question he’s just asked you - and try to refocus on Wonwoo. Try to ignore how the thoughts about Jihoon come bubbling in your head. It was probably something with his crush. You want to do nothing more than comfort him, hold him, steal away every bad thought he may ever have. 

You open your eyes, hoping that somehow seeing Wonwoo’s face would fill you with a need for him - him, and not Jihoon - but seeing him in the low lighting only serves as a reminder that Wonwoo is not him. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Wonwoo. I gotta go. I’m really, really sorry-” you say suddenly, and immediately you’re scurrying towards the door. Wonwoo frowns, eyes following you in your path. “Did I- Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

“No, you were hot!” you say absent-mindedly, before you’re disappearing into the entrance, and then further along, out the door.

Wonwoo stands alone at the counter, still somewhat leaned towards your ghost in front of him, and shakes his head in confusion. “What the fuck?”  _____________________________

“Jihoon?” 

You exit just in time to see him, stomping on the other side of the road, armless denim jacket wafting in the wind. It’s spring, just warm enough that you’re not freezing, but still cold enough that you curl your arms around yourself. Your hair blows gently. It smells distantly like flowers. 

He turns around at your voice. When he does, you know your suspicions were right. He looks so defeated. His gorgeous long hair, that usually only makes you clench your thighs together, is limp and drags him downwards. His arms hang similarly at his sides, fists clenched at the bottom, causing veins to ripple along the forearms. He stands just below a street light, spot-lighted, as if on a stage.

“Leave me alone!” he yells out to you across the road, voice breaking halfway. This does nothing to dampen his demeanor - this tough front, this anger he suddenly carries. You still in the grass beside the road, looking at him pleadingly. He can’t hold your gaze.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, Jihoon,” you begin, choosing your words carefully. “But I can just.. Support you. You don’t have to be alone right now.” 

This almost seems to piss him off more, clenching his jaw, sharply defined by the harsh shadows, and steering his head away from you, like a sunflower following the sun in the sky. It hurts your heart. The way he almost seems angry with you. And yet again you’re made to feel pathetic for following him out here. Like you’re on your knees and he’s standing there in front of you, spitting on you. Why does it hurt so much? You almost wish you’d stayed with Wonwoo - that you’d followed him to his room and let him fuck you and pretended you weren’t thinking about him the entire time.

“Shouldn’t you go back inside?” he’s prickling with hostility. “You seemed like you were having a good time.”

“Jihoon,” you say breathlessly. “None of us is having a good time if you’re not.” 

Whatever cog you unturned, whatever screw you unscrewed, Jihoon’s tightly wound posture unwinds, and he softens and withers before you, one hand clamping over his eyes. You take this as a sign to move towards him, heels clicking on the asphalt warning him of your advance. It’s deadly quiet, save for the heartbeat of the frat house behind you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally lowering his hand and looking at you. You smile sympathetically, relief flooding you, when he lets you gently place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.” 

The two of you begin to walk in silence, and you recognize it as the path that leads back to the dormitory. It’s calm, steps becoming rhythmic and breeze easing your muscles with its cool touch. You study his face as it’s lit and unlit by the systemic presence of street lights. You’re able to put your own feelings aside for him, to be a martyr, and to sacrifice yourself to comfort him. It feels like cutting your own throat to talk to him about another woman, a woman he loves, truly, but you know it must be done.

“So,” you muster finally. “What happened in there?” 

He scoffs bitterly, looking at the pavement underneath his shoes. You frown. “Nothing happened.” 

“Nothing?” you repeat, a little confused.

“I didn’t tell her.” 

“Oh.” 

You’re honestly not the best comforter, you realize, cringing and hoping you’re not making it worse by talking to him about it. You see the faint outline of the dormitory at the end of the street. 

“Why not?” you quip quietly. His mouth makes a tight line. He breathes out shakily, and you fear you’re riling him up again by asking further.

“She was talking to some other guy,” Jihoon says, eyes flitting to yours before immediately ducking back to the pavement. You furrow your brows. Could it be you? That thought nurtures the spring garden in your stomach, the one you’d been trying to kill. But the insecurity that had come with it, and with him, only manages to squander that light.

“I’m sorry that happened,” you say softly, hand finding his arm, but he pulls it away from you immediately. Ouch. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles without humor. 

Finally, you decide to just shut up, to stop pushing him when he’s so vulnerable, but this time it’s Jihoon who doesn’t stop speaking. “You know,” he begins and again he’s laughing, but you can tell it’s only a cheap plaster for the pain in his voice, “I’d memorized that- that confession thing Seulgi made. And I followed all the- the style advice and the-” his voice breaks and he hisses at how pathetic it sounds. “Everything. I did everything,” he summarizes finally and when you look you see orbs of tears forming at his waterline, like the dew drops that sparkle on leaves in spring. 

You don’t know what to say. It’s almost too hard to see him like this. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, but Jihoon shakes his head.

“Stop saying that,” his voice is harsher, groggier, thick and stained by the sobs in his throat. You pause your steps. You’re standing in the yard outside the dormitory now. Hundreds of windows become an audience to where you now stand before each other. 

“Why?” you ask. 

“Because-” he wipes the tears away aggressively, composing himself before he finally, finally looks at you. “Because you’re gonna make me think that you actually care.” His voice is suddenly laced with venom again. The hostility that you’d tamed returns and it’s so much stronger, more bitter. You’re taken aback.

“I-I do care? Why do you think I don’t care-” 

“Oh, please, Y/n. You didn’t want me at your girls’ nights or at spa day or fucking whatever. You didn’t- You don’t care about my book or my crush or my-” 

“I do care!” you interrupt, voice stern and much louder. “What, you think I follow you out of parties for fun? Because I don’t care about you? And yeah, maybe I didn’t want you at the girls’ nights, but what does that matter-” 

“It matters because!–” he stops himself in his tracks, hand coming out to halt you. “Fuck it, wait here,” he orders, and suddenly he is trudging into the darkness of the courtyard. You stand still, flabbergasted, and thoroughly confused. It’s so dark you can’t even see what he’s doing, only hear him in the dirt, silhouette blending into the shadows. Then, he’s walking back to you and you finally see him. 

There are flowers in his hands. 

It’s a makeshift bouquet, held tightly in between his veiny, pale hands, consisting of flowers that grow in the courtyard, red, yellow and lilac. It’s a slow-burning realization as he stands himself before you, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that is laced with pain. You know this part of the girl code. 

“Hi, Y/n, how are you?” he breathes, and his voice is shaking and he’s looking at you and practically begging you to play along - to indulge him, even if you would turn your back on him. You can hardly register anything but him and those flowers, because your surroundings, the moon, the stars, the shadows and the streets are overpowered by the blooming in your chest. A single flower unfurls the pedals of your heart until you are open before him. You meet his eyes.

“I’m good.” 

He nods. 

“I’ve always thought you were very beautiful,” it almost seems like it physically pains him to admit these breathless feelings. “Your very presence takes my breath away. I would like to take you on a date,” another pained, gulping pause. “Would that be okay with you?”

It’s as if time has stopped in this moment; how his chest rises and falls under his shirt, how his hair gently nuzzles his face, how his eyes blear out at you from underneath his bangs, how he glows in the moonlight, and how his hands shake around the stems of the flowers. 

“Was I..” his voice is hoarse, “Was I suave about it?” 

“Yes,” is all you can manage, because all those flowers that you had stomped into a half-death were coming alive again and this time it was more than welcome.

“Yes?” 

“Yes, you can take me on a date,” you break into a wide smile and, upon realizing you probably look like an idiot, you lower your gaze and your warm, shining cheeks to the pavement. He gasps, and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever heard.

“But- you and Wonwoo-?” 

“Do you wanna know why I was even talking to Wonwoo?” you ask, and when you meet his eyes again, he’s also smiling. You can’t help but reach out a hand to wrap around one of his, still frozen in holding the flowers. He quickly maneuvers the bouquet to the other hand and intertwines your fingers. Your heart soars. “Mingyu found out that I was sad because you had a crush on someone - I didn’t think it was me, you know? So he promised to wingman me at this party.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Jihoon whispers, and you laugh, feeling so floaty and lovely. “Don’t call him that,” you say, but Jihoon only smiles cheekily, eyes matching the crescent moon in the sky above you.

“No, I meant me,” he says. He looks down at the flowers and frowns. “Is that why you were so quiet? On girls night?” 

You nod and he sighs. “I’m such an idiot.” 

“No, you’re not. You’re so sweet,” you say genuinely, and Jihoon nearly melts at how much you mean it. There’s something so wonderful about the way all the words, that he would never use to describe himself, float around your head and sparkle in your eyes in this moment, looking up at him.

Jihoon needs to kiss you.  He’s not sure he’s ever needed anything as badly. He rips his free hand from yours only to place it tenderly against your cheek, pulling your face and your warmth into him, bouquet held out at his side to allow you snugly in his chest. 

His lips are so soft and his nose nuzzles your own, plush hair tickling your forehead, and his huffed out breaths dance along your cheeks. Your lips mod perfectly, unlocking the shackles with which that earth-shattering yearning had held onto you. The world is anguish but will momentarily and suddenly be interrupted,  cleaved apart with a sudden gash, by a planet-killer: love. 

You truly don’t mean to make it heated, hell, you’d be content just kissing him forever, feeling how his tongue prods at your lips and meets your own, but his sculpted chest under your fingers draws out a pathetic moan. His eyebrows spring up and he pulls back to look at you. You blush under his gaze, fiddling with your dress.

“Holy fuck, that was so fucking hot,” he gasps, lips swollen from your insistent sucking on them, panting into the night air. You brighten at his compliment. “Inside. Now. To my room.” 

“You know, girl code says to not have sex before on the third date,” you say smugly, unprepared when his free hand pushes you back into his chest, and his lips drag over half of your face, finding home at your ear. His voice is a growl: “Fuck. Girl code.” 

He begins a somewhat dramatic march to the front door and you can’t help but run after him, taking his hand, and seeing how he smiles at that feeling. He looks so happy. Your heart skips a beat, because it’s you - you’re the one making him so happy. 

And he’s so hot, it’s all you can think about as he drags you along the corridors, how nice his arms look in the sleeves denim, how pretty his hair is, his fucking face, and the chest you just barely felt under your fingertips. You’re watching doors pass in a monotonous routine, jittery and unable to wait for the one that might be his, for him to take you through it, and for you to bloom, totally and perfectly under him.

“Fucking finally,” he breathes, voice gruff and much lower than you’re used to when he stops at his door, fishing for his keys in his pocket. It enters the lock and with a click, everything you fantasized about is opening to you. 

As soon as you’re inside, he’s kicking the door shut and pushing you against the wall, nails gripping into your dress, when he finally drops the makeshift bouquet on his nightstand. He cries out into your mouth at the way your chest bounces from the impact, immediately capturing your lips in his again. 

You can’t help the way you’re tugging at his hair, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of him, when he shoves a thigh between your legs. You moan into his mouth, rutting into him, while his wandering hands pull your skirt up you to pool around your waist. He pulls back to look at you, how your hips cant into his strong, big thigh, and how your pink, lacey panties cling to your wet pussy. 

“Off,” he mumbles, apparently having decided that the simple tugging of the fabric of your dress won’t be enough. You turn around in a daze, not even uttering a word, simply shoving the zipper at the back of it. 

Jihoon groans, he has to, seeing the way you stick out your ass to him, while your hand lay flat on the wall. You shake your hips teasingly at him, and his hands float to your ass, petting it and squeezing it in his fingers, and biting his lips because it looks so fucking good and plump, and there’s a wet spot in your panties. He grabs your hips and rubs his dick into you. You gasp at the feeling, nails scratching against the wall.

“You make me so hard, baby,” he says breathlessly, unable to help himself humping against you, pre-cum spilling from his tip. “Shit,” he grunts, and you’re squeezing your eyes closed at the outline of his dick pressing into your pussy. 

Finally Jihoon collects himself and his cold hands drag the zipper down. The top of your dress loosens and slides down your shoulders, where Jihoon aids you in slipping it off. His hands spin you around, finally taking a breath to marvel your bare chest in front of him. 

You blush, suddenly so bashful, when just before you were wiggling your ass at him. You curl your arms over your chest, but Jihoon’s own come to stop them. “No, no, no, no,” he tuts, almost sad, “why are you doing that?” 

You don’t answer immediately, but apparently it’s not a rhetorical question. His hands intertwine with yours to prevent you from covering yourself up. “Uh, I don’t know,” you stammer sheepishly, “I don’t wanna, like, kill the mood or any-” 

“You’re not killing the mood, pretty,” Jihoon whispers so, so achingly sincere and your heart hurts. 

“Sorry, it was just-” 

“Don’t say sorry,” he lectures, interrupting again. He tilts his head and he looks at you with a flaming intensity. “Try again.” 

You pause, flustered out of your mind.

“I-I’ve just been feeling a little insecure lately, I guess,” you say and you’re positive your face is beet-red, but if it is Jihoon says nothing, only pouts and releases one hand only to direct your eyes back to his with a hand on your chin. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he says and even when you seek it out, you can’t find even the slightest hint of lying in his voice. “I want to show you, but I can’t do that if you cover up. Understand?” 

You nod, lips breaking into a little smile, that his heart becomes hot like the spring-sunshine. “Okay,” you say and he smiles brightly, releasing your chin from between his fingers. 

He guides you onto the bed, but it’s no longer heated and rushed, it’s so soft and gentle, and he pulls off your underwear only after you whisper in agreement, and then he lowers himself into it, again, only allowing himself the pleasure when you whisper a strained yes and nod vigorously. 

He fully makes out with your pussy - his lips are wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking it, and fucking moaning into it, sending vibration straight to the coil in your stomach. You’re moaning so loud, broken cries bouncing off the walls, while your finger wrap into his hair and your legs thrash. His tongue flattens against your folds, then dips down to trail around your slit. 

“Jihoon!” you cry, hips bucking into his mouth. He groans again, releasing your pussy with a soft pop. “Fuck, baby, keep saying my name like that.” And then his face disappears in your pussy again.

And you do, everytime his nips and gums on your sensitive folds, tongue trailing back up to your nub to fully envelop it. He sucks, hard. And you think you might cum the second you look at him, because the image of his full head of hair buried in between your legs and lapping like a starved man is so pornographic, your head spins.

He might go insane from just the taste of you, he realizes, because even when you cry that you’re cumming, and your legs shake around his head and your pussy is soaked with your cum, he can’t bring himself to pull away, strong arms wrapping around stomach to still you as you begin to wiggle from the feeling of his tongue just continuing to lap at you.

“Jihoon! Fuck, t-too much,” you whimper and the sound shoots straight to his cock. He finally pulls away, eyes still trained on your pretty cunt, and the way it clenches around nothing. “Clenching so hard, sweetheart, only for there to be nothing, shouldn’t we fix that?” he hums, leaning down to trail his finger through your folds, gathering your wetness on its tip.

You whimper uncertainly, when he crawls back over your body, hair tickling your face when hovers just above you and he shushes your pathetic squeaks. He pushes the wet finger into your mouth and you suck obediently. “Shh, baby, just taste yourself on my finger, how can you be insecure with a pussy like that, hm?” 

You cry around his single digit, tongue sliding over it eagerly. He wants to fuck your face, the way your pretty, plump lips wrap around his finger, but he’ll save that for another time. “Shh, baby, I know. You’ll be stuffed full of cock soon, don’t worry,” he rasps soothingly, and slips his drenched finger from your mouth. 

Finally, he rips the denim jacket off, white tee following soon after, and you’re left, mouth gaping, at the how toned his stomach is, how big his pecs are and how fucking thick his arms are at his side. 

“You’re so fucking hoot, Hoonie,” you drawl, making grabby hands to urge him back to you. He smiles at those words, even gains a small dusting of pink on his cheeks, but he shakes his head. “Gotta get my pants off, baby.” 

“Hurry up,” you grin playfully, and he scoffs at you from where he stands, pants and boxers coming off in one fell swoop. “So needy,” he mumbles to himself, but you can tell by the overjoyed expression on his face, that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 

His cock is finally freed, and your eyes float to it, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so pretty and so red, and a single vein creeps up its curved surface towards the oozing head. You gulp, eyes sparkling. 

“Wan’ it in my mouth,” you mumble, where you’re now half sitting up and glowing from your first orgasm. Jihoon looks at you and laughs, as he climbs on top of you again. 

His face hovers over yours, finger carding through your hair tenderly. He looks in your eyes. “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

He coos at you, eyes flickering to your lips for a moment, and you feel his cock twitch where it rests heavily on your stomach. “Not right now, pretty, I wanna fuck you.” 

“You don’t have to cum-” you reason, mouth practically watering at the thought of having him in your mouth. He stops you though, hand still brushing through your hair, so delicately, as if you were a lily, or a rose, or a tulip.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you look at me like that with my fucking cock in your mouth,” he whispers, and it’s so intimate, despite being so vulgar. How warm you both are, naked and holding onto each other and his dick is oozing onto your stomach and your pussy is leaking onto his sheets. “Like that,” Jihoon emphasizes, when you look up at him adoringly. You smile. 

“Okay,” you say, a determined look on your face, “later then.” 

He laughs. “Eager baby. Relax, you’re gonna get a pussy full of cock now, your mouth can wait.” 

You wanna retort, say something snarky, anything, but you’re abruptly interrupted by the feeling of his cock pushing into you. You moan and your nails claw at his back, because it’s so big and so raw in your pussy, you feel that fucking vein dragging against your walls. “Shit, Hoonie. Fuck, fuck.” 

He’s groaning too, hands on your waist and face in your neck. “So fucking tight, so pretty.” 

You’re both panting when his cock is fully nestled inside you, sitting snug against your walls. You look up at him and he’s pretty, all flushed and lips swollen, and the sight makes you clench. He hisses, jerking abruptly, making the both of you moan. 

“Fuck, baby, can’t just clench on me like tha-” 

“Please, please, just fuck me now, can’t wait anymore!” you cry, clawing at him, nails raking over his flexed biceps, where he holds onto you. And he can’t help but fulfill your wish.

You honestly don’t know where he gets his stamina, because the second you’re done asking, he’s ramming into you so hard and so fast, your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open in a long whine. The whole bed is shaking from the impact, as his hips sheath and unsheath from your warm, welcoming pussy. 

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he drawls, hands trailing up from your waist to your bouncing chest, thumbing over your nipples. “Bet Wonwoo wishes he got to see you like this, hm?” 

The way your pussy has his cock in a chokehold, the way you’re lying beneath, it has him fully dazed, and now he babbles all that comes to mind. “Yeah, but you’re mine, princess. No one else gets to see you like this, no one else can have you crying like this for their cock, right?” 

“N-No one else,” you whimper, sopping cunt clenching and unclenching around his dick. “That’s right,” he pants, humid breath on your cheek, “Say you’re mine, pretty girl, say you’re fucking mine.” 

“A-ah, ‘m yours, Hoonie,” you cry and he thinks he might cum just like that, at your blissed face, glowing beneath him, and your pussy sucking him in, and you obeying him thoughtlessly. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he rewards you by dragging his hand down your stomach to rub your clit. Your whole body convulses into his, hands dragging over his big arms for support. “Come on, sweetheart, cum on my cock now.” 

And you do, the tension in your stomach tightening beyond what you can take, before it finally unfurls, and it blooms, and it’s spring, and your squirting all over Jihoon’s abs, because God, he’s so fucking hot and he fucks you silly with his dumb, big muscles and his dumb, cute face.

The sight of your squirting, thrashing and shaking underneath him is all he needs. Jihoon shoots you full of his cum, making you feel so full and wet, before he finally halts his rutting hips, stilling on top of you. 

You’re both panting. You’re sweating so much, your hair sticks to your forehead, and you’re gasping for air. Jihoon is still on top of you, holding himself up somehow, and licking at your neck appreciatively. 

There’s a pause, where you’re basking in each other's warmth, and there’s so much love between you it’s almost suffocating. Then you're narrowing your eyes at the head of hair in your neck, growing suspicious. 

“... Are you still hard?” 

He laughs into your neck, peering up at you with a sheepish smile.

“Are you still open to that dick-sucking thing?” _____________________________

“So,” Yeri trails off.

You’re sitting in front of her, Seulgi and Irene at the campus cafe after a thorough round of congratulating you and Jihoon’s new relationship. They’d been both surprised and somehow not-at-all-surprised. 

“He can’t come to girls night anymore,” Irene states the obvious, and immediately you, Seulgi and Yeri are nodding along. 

“Thank God, I wasn’t the only one thinking that.” 

“It just wouldn’t work,” you supply, agreeing. 

There’s a pause. Seulgi pouts. “I can’t believe we don’t have a son anymore. They grow up so fast,” she says and she sounds genuinely sad about it.

You sigh a little, debating whether or not to play this card. Then you say: “I know someone who would like to be our son.” 

“Oh, no..”

“Don’t say..” 

“Yep,” you shrug, and then you hear him. Lumbering clumsily down the hall, like a galloping horse. 

“I HEAR THERE’S A NEW POSITION OPEN DURING GIRLS NIGHTS!!!!! I MADE MUFFINS!!”

Mingu is running through the cafe, dodging stools and chairs like he’s on Ninja Warrior. 

Irene frowns. “I guess he’ll do as our new son.” 

“We can always kick him out if he gets too annoying,” Yeri shrugs, just in time for Mingyu to stand before your table with a fresh tray of muffins. 

“Yes!” he cries with glee, voice incredibly high because he just can’t believe it.

“Begging always works!”

#svt smut #svt x reader #woozi smut #woozi angst #woozi fluff #woozi x reader #svt woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader #jihoon x reader #jihoon smut #svt angst

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

This will be more of a vent post than it is a critique or review. It’s just something I personally find so agitating and I wanted to talk about it to just get the feelings of my chest.

I hate. And I mean hate. That they named her “Vaggie”

More below cut/includes slight spoilers from released content and leaked audition sheets.

I just. And please keep in mind that this is all my personal opinion and you’re allowed to think whatever you want. You can love her name and think it’s the most creative beautiful name in the world and that’s fine. That’s your opinion, and that’s great!!

But this is my opinion—V’s name isn’t funny. It’s not creative or clever.

It comes off as trying to be “edgy” or daring, but it just flops. And it’s incredibly frustrating to be sapphic (I’m a lesbian) and to see one of only TWO sapphic characters be literally named after “female” genitalia.

And I wondered for a while if I was just being weirdly picky about this, but if this leak turns out to be real (and I am PRAYING it’s not):

Then the exterminators, a seemingly entire female group, are named after genitalia. Like. Why? What is the point of having a group of characters being named after genitals??

I have a hard time describing why this makes me so angry and makes me feel so disrespected. I think it’s because:

1. Whether intentional or not, it comes off as reducing women characters to their genitalia.

2. It’s reducing a sapphic (possibly lesbian, but never confirmed) character to her genitals. Again, whether or not this is intended, the writers have made it so that everyone who hears these characters names immediately thinks “oh like Vagina”. This is even a joke in the prequel comics:

And the FIRST EPISODE:

Apparently the original character that V is based on was actually named “Vagina” just straight up. Oh but they used a Y. Because. That really makes it unique a cool. (Being sarcastic)

3. Again. I don’t care if this was the intent or not. But it feels just so so reductive to name a whole GROUP of women characters after different female genital parts. It’s just disrespectful. And again, I don’t think it was meant to be this—but it just? It’s so reductive and just stupid.

Like. I also want to make it clear that I’d be saying the SAME thing as I am now if it was a male character named “Penissy” or “Scrothomas” or some stupid shit. If Angel Dust’s name was like… “Tainty” or “Schlong” or something I would also be frustrated and upset.

Because that would be the same thing. A gay man character reduced to his genitals. Anyway this is done, it’s disrespectful and feels gross and reductive to me.

But I don’t know what I expected because this is the same writing team that thinks a character referring to himself as “The Dickmaster” and saying “dick” 600 times in a row is peak comedy writing. Ugh.

Again, I’m sorry this is more a personal vent than any sort of review or critique. I’m genuinely hoping that the Lute audition sheet is not anything that will show up in the show, and that Clitorissa and Labianne will never see the light of day. It’s just.

It’s not funny. It’s stupid, and annoying, and I hate it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And V deserved to be called by a real name, not a edgy unfunny punchline.

#funhouse convo #media criticism #media critique #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #helluva boss critical #also no it being short for vagatha doesn’t make it better #it just makes me sad because I like v #I like her a lot she’s one of my fav characters #but she’s treated like a boring joke all the time #and she doesn’t even have a real name #I hate it #it’s just misogynistic

[strawberrystepmom]

malevolent enterprise ch. 2

ceo au series. sukuna and yuji are brothers. gojo x f!reader are endgame but this is backstory/lead up. reader has hair that can be swept off of their face. reader is a lawyer (ive taken creative liberties bc i am not a real lawyer so take it up with god if u find an issue) and has an established platonic relationship with sukuna and has an ex boyfriend that is an oc named shigeo. cw drug and alcohol mentions. wc 1.8k.

masterlist coming soon but in the meantime, ch. 1 can be found here

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune ♡

“Forgot I paid you to stand around, ---.”

Hearing Sukuna use a shortened version of your full name, you roll your eyes and pull your glasses off of your face, holding them between your thumb and index finger. Meeting his gaze with an indignant look of your own, you toss the pen you’re holding with your other hand down on the desk in front of you and groan in frustration. 

You’re only standing in his office because you've been reviewing contract abstracts for hours and could use a break before your brain starts to turn to mush given his absolutely archaic NDA demands that would never be upheld in court. 

“Am I not allowed to pace? Is that one of the workplace rules you’ve set we all have to follow, King Ryomen?”

He appreciates your sharp wit if nothing else so he chuckles, walking around you to plop down behind the heaviest and most ornate looking desk you’ve seen in a modern office. 

Truly fit for a man who sees himself as a king. 

“Can I make all of you start calling me that? Will HR have an issue?”

You scoff and shake your head. 

“Yes. I have a funny feeling they would indeed take issue with you demanding your employees call you king.”

Placing your glasses back on the bridge of your nose, you sweep back a few tendrils of hair that have fallen in front of your face and sigh, raking your fingers through the top of your overgrown layers. You’ve been too busy lately to even get a trim, late nights spent at the revenge motivated Ryomen Enterprises preventing you from doing much but provide general counsel, as your position and official title state. 

You left one incredibly oppressive job for another and you don’t quite regret hitching your wagon to Sukuna but you aren’t proud of it either, especially putting your own goal of having your own firm on hold to do it. 

Leaving the Zen’in firm seemed intelligent three months ago after Naoya was named partner instead of you, the tireless hours you put into the blockbuster Miyamoto v. DTK, Inc. wrongful termination suit, the first of its kind in the country, meaning ultimately nothing when it comes to family ties and misogyny. 

You handed your resignation to Naobito the next day who received it with a knowing smirk, glad to see one less bitch too big for her skirt suit step aside. Two months later Sukuna reached out to you and you assumed you’d be stupid to pass up a comfortable and lucrative in-house counsel position in a well funded company everyone had just started buzzing about. 

It also helps that the founder of said company is someone you’ve known for long enough you have seen him shuffle through several life phases. 

Needless to say the job hasn’t been what you expected it to be since saying yes though, sifting through a bankers box full of Manila envelopes, muttering aloud about all the shit you need to get done and the severe lack of hours in the day. 

“The journalist hasn’t sent back her NDA yet,” you remark and he hums. He knows exactly the pretty little pink haired thing you’re mentioning and he smirks thinking about how easily he pulled her apart in a penthouse suite 8 blocks away a few nights ago but his attention is drawn back to the present when you slam a stack of papers in front of him. 

“Your brother’s company doesn’t even have in-house counsel.”

Sukuna arches a brow, sitting back in his chair and slamming his feet on the desk. You don’t even jump, perhaps too used to his antics after only a couple months of working for him. It’s not like he was a stranger to start with, the senior you helped through your sophomore Contracts course remembering you fondly for your plucky demeanor and willingness to fight when necessary. 

You simply remember him as a smooth talking asshole who charmed you into doing his coursework successfully but he signs your checks so you keep your assessments of his character to yourself as often as possible. 

“How do you know what’s going on at Yuji’s company? Are you a mole?”

A snort is your response and you toss him a glance from over your glasses, one he knows means he’s treading in dangerous territory. Tossing down one of the near bursting envelopes in your hand, you pick up your phone and grimace at the text lighting up the screen. 

Toge: maki wants 2 eat w u at some point this millennium - her words

Rolling your eyes, you text back and Sukuna watches with a grin, wondering what in the world could have you so irritated on your phone. 

“That’s not Gojo is it?”

You scoff again and add nothing further, continuing to focus on your phone despite the second last message Toge sent you containing a link to a headline showing off the man just mentioned wining and dining a pretty dark haired woman across the world last night. 

Quickly, you type a reply to Toge’s message to send the bubble with the news article further out of your periphery.

You: are you guys together? where are you?

“It’s my assistant reminding me to eat since I don’t get a spare second to do it working for you,” you finally remark, locking your phone with a wince. 

You try to pretend you’re too good to be affected by the latest news of Satoru’s careless public hookups but you did lock yourself in the executive bathroom to cry at your own reflection for 45 minutes earlier so you opt for silence rather than digging the hole any deeper. 

Why you care in the first place is beyond you, the two of you only ever orbiting around one another, no serious groundwork for anything beyond neutrality laid. You can’t help who you’re attracted to, though, and while there’s no use in lamenting that you’re nobody to the man you can at least sit down and dye your hair a shade darker to pretend he’d be interested next time you get the chance. 

Sukuna pulls you out of the hole your mind is in, swinging back and forth in his chair, making it squeal with each quarter turn and further annoying you.  

“When’s the last time you went out and did anything besides look at paperwork and smoke with the window cracked? You look like shit.”

The expression on your face is priceless, shifting to glare at your boss while he snickers to himself and shrugs, knuckles wrapped around his opposite bicep. 

“Yuji’s party is the last time I went out.”

Well over a month ago. Sukuna whistles lowly, still shifting idly in his chair. 

“I’m just saying maybe you need more than just a bite to eat to feel better. Text your ex or something, didn’t he just get surgery? He’s probably at home.”

The mention of Shigeo, baseball star, makes you exhale as loudly as possible and throw down another envelope. He’s the last person you want to hear about, given you broke his heart just over six months ago, admitting you didn’t see yourself marrying him when he asked about a shared future for the two of you. He’s sweet, he’s wonderful, he’s a good man but he isn’t your forever man and finally, anger makes your face flush and feel warm, your boss successfully making his way under your skin.

“Don’t you have illicit substances to snort out of someone’s asshole?” You look away and mutter under your breath, much to the amusement of the man watching each irritated step you take. “What are you even doing here anyway? It’s after hours.”

Sukuna takes his feet off of the desk and leans forward on his elbows, sucking his teeth. He isn’t sure why he’s here, actually. Perhaps he’s partied out and tired of hosting giggling girls with nothing better to do than hang on his every word or maybe he wants to look over his kingdom without prying eyes judging his every mood. Both of these are a little true but above all, part of him holds the tiniest bit of fondness for you. At least enough that he’s concerned you’re overworking yourself. 

“Go out tonight. All this shit will be here tomorrow and I’m sure I’ll give you even more to deal with by the time the sun is up again.”

You sigh and look down at your phone, screen lighting up as another message from your personal assistant comes through. 

Toge: den, just sat down. ordered you vodka soda.

“Fine but let your little pink princess know that if her NDA isn’t in by next week I’m going to sit there and watch you two fuck to make sure nothing gets out.”

Sukuna hums, brows raised. 

“I always knew you were a freak.” You roll your eyes and he chuckles, standing up from his chair and letting it roll back far enough it bumps against the glass floor to ceiling window behind it. “You’re one of those girls who wears really sexy underwear but never lets anyone see them, right?”

Tucking documents into a box, you snarl. He’s not 

flirting, he's making nasty observations as he is known to do. He has known you for long enough he feels extremely comfortable doing so and you can hardly argue with him. Who cares even if he is right? You’re a grown woman with a lucrative career and life, if you wanna wear 50,000 yen silk panties that’s your business.

“That’s more than enough out of you.” Another document tucked and you approach Sukuna, looking up at him with your mouth in a line. “I’ll be in by 10 tomorrow. Don’t fuck my night up.”

He nods, holding his hands up in a gesture of mild surrender. 

“I’m serious about the NDA too. I’ll meet with her if you want but I won’t promise to be nice about it.”

Your boss scoffs but smirks.

“You’re always too nice, that's why you don’t have it yet but I’ll talk to her.”

Nodding, you acquiesce, uninterested in arguing while you tie your coat closed. Your phone lights up again and you look down at the message with a groan.

Toge: ice melting…👎🏻

“I mean it, Sukuna Itadori. I do not want to hear a single report of bad behavior in the morning.”

The only person allowed to still call him his family name is you and you turn on your heel, stilettos clacking across the marble floor with each step. 

“Whatever you say, boss.”

His sly remark makes you toss another look over your shoulder while opening the office door but the buzz of your phone catches your attention instead. 

Maki: If you aren’t here in 15 I’m dragging you out of that building myself.

Knowing she means it, you stiffen and rush to leave. 

“No drama, Sukuna!” 

You shout over your shoulder and he chuckles, opening his own phone and scrolling to the contact for the pretty little pink princess he hopes to have back between his jaws tonight. 

#sukuna x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #kendall writes #malevolent enterprise

[wordsinhaled]

oops i saw that video of ferdie watching ads and my brain was all “wake up new dreamling meetcute just dropped” and really ran away with me and became a ridiculous sappy improbable thing

AU where dream is the model in an ad and hob is traveling for an academic conference. he’s watching tv in his hotel room late at night and sees this ad with dream in it. it’s some silly and forgettable TV commercial but the man in it may possibly be the most gorgeous person hob’s ever seen in his life? anyway hob can’t sleep, partially because he’s nervous for his panel the next day, partially because he’s stuck on Gorgeous Guy From the Ad and feels incredibly silly for it. it was a two minute appearance. matthew really is right that hob needs to get out more if he’s crushing on people in random TV commercials now

so he goes down to the lobby bar to get his mind off of things. it’s late and the bar is deserted - the bartender is about to knock off for the night in maybe half an hour. hob orders a club soda and is reviewing his papers when someone slides onto the bar stool next to his. hob is about to be slightly irritated that someone is In His Bubble at this late hour, when he looks up and sees it’s The Guy. the guy!!!

it’s the fucking guy from the ad he just watched, and somehow he looks even more beautiful in person, and hob is like, oh, okay, the stress of academia has finally gotten to me and i’ve lost it because there is just no fucking way

it’s such a ludicrous coincidence that hob sets down his pen and just starts laughing. the way you laugh at things that aren’t actually amusing, because it’s the middle of the night, and everything’s just a little fuzzy around the edges?

“is something funny?” says mr. walking wet dream from the TV, in a voice like slow-melted chocolate, and also with the kind of curiosity in it that makes hob realize he’s being totally socially inappropriate

“no—no, i’m so sorry. it’s just—god, am i dreaming? because you’re here, but i swear i just saw you—upstairs. well. not like—i mean. in an ad on the TV?” (completely not helping himself in the smoothness department)

the breathtaking stranger’s lips quirk up in a sardonic smile. “ah, yes. that.”

“that?”

“unfortunately, you are not dreaming. i did indeed feature in an advertisement several years ago. as my sibling dearly loves to remind me on every possible occasion, lest i let myself forget for even a moment.”

and hob expects the man to leave in a huff, or something. he goes back to his papers, dream orders himself a gin & tonic, but they’re watching one another in each other’s periphery until finally dream says, “i must admit why i sat beside you this evening. i noticed you were reading marlowe…”

to hob’s great surprise this stranger soon doesn’t feel like someone he’s just met. hob talks about his teaching post and the conference and the paper he’s presenting and the panel he’s on tomorrow, and how (“shhh, you mustn’t tell anyone”) his co-panelist tomorrow is an absolute pill so he’s dreading it. he finds himself sharing more easily than he expected in a way that you only can in the kind of liminal space that is an empty swanky hotel bar at midnight. they’re angled toward one another on their barstools so that maybe their shoes knock together or their ankles brush occasionally in a way they both pretend is accidental, and hob does his level best to be calm and collected about it

he learns his stranger’s story over several gin & tonics. dream’s ‘real’ name is morpheus. he wants to be a published author, studied creative writing. his father is the head of a major media/entertainment/publishing conglomerate and dream used to work for the company. when dream said he wanted to pursue something totally different (essentially… be a starving artist) his father saw it as a betrayal, and trapped him into continuing to work for the family for years on the promise of getting him the connections to publish his first novel or help him get funding to stage his first play… provided he could “actually” finish the manuscript

in the meantime his father had dream doing bit parts in forgettable commercials and made for tv theatre productions, partially as humiliation for daring to want to leave. (i really want him to be in a hair commercial where he broods about in silky black robes…) eventually dream lawyered up and severed ties. his father retaliated by setting up a kidnapping attempt on his own son that someone else conveniently took the fall for, and so on…

anyway - to make a long and tragic story short, now morpheus goes by dream, moved cities, has started his life over mostly estranged from the family, and he’s actually working on his novel - but he’s in town for a friend’s funeral and is staying at the hotel too

at the end of this story hob goes, “bloody hell. i’m sorry, my friend,” and it’s a bit over-familiar, isn’t it, for someone you’ve just met at a bar, even if you’ve just shared half your secrets. so hob is all, oh god oh god ohgodohgod, i’ve scared him off now—

then dream is all, “your friend. is that all you’d like me to be, robert gadling?” and he’s Looking at hob like he’s caught hob out in a lie. and hob’s breath is just… gone… gone away somewhere… and he has to admit that he may still barely know this man but there’s nothing he wants more than to know him in every way possible

and maybe they both go up to hob’s hotel room, and when hob kisses dream for the first time, cradling dream’s face in his hands, it’s more tender and intimate than it has any right to be and hob is just. flabbergasted because fuck. he just met this man and it feels like he could be content just to kiss him for hours and hours and hours. ok? like this is some accidental soulmates energy. their first time is slow and thorough after falling asleep curled together on top of hob’s covers and waking up in the blue hours before dawn

ok basically just my favorite thing is dreamling finding one another in very unlikely circumstances and having a Connection asdjfjf

#the sandman #dreamling #long post #this absolutely got away from me but that’s ok

[shuttershocky]

So what are your thoughts on the second AK x R6 Collab? Do you look forward to it?

Personally, I'm a little sad my boys Wamai, Jager, Glaz, etc didn't make the cut, nor any of the Nighthaven crew like Osa and Kali. This makes sense (HG's approach is basically isekaing the Rainbow crew into Arknights and passing them off as funny aliens in a world of animal people rather than using any Rainbow Six storylines, which is probably for the better), I'm just a little sad that among the new batch the only character I actually play often enough to call a main is Fuze.

That being said, I'm looking forward to it. Originium Dust was one of my favorite AK events, and I really liked how HG translated the R6 characters into its tower defense gameplay, they showed some real creativity along with a weirdly specific understanding of Siege memes (such as the Rainbow ops calling Tachanka, Lord Tachanka, which is not something that's canon to R6S that's an in-joke the players have because Tachanka is a terribly weak but beloved and fun character).

____

What makes me confident they'll bring that same creativity to translating their FPS gameplay into Arknights is that they made Doc an Instructor Guard. Like, holy shit, it takes a great understanding of Siege to see a medic character whose special skill is that he heals people and then NOT make him a Medic in AK.

Do you know why Doc's an Instructor Guard despite being a medic? Because when you actually see a Doc in a match of R6 Siege, they don't sit behind their allies pumping them with heals every time they take damage. You only have limited healing darts, and you can heal people at full HP to overheal. No. When you're fighting a Doc, you see him grab a partner (usually Rook), jamming them full of heals while their health is full to overdose on their HP, then healing HIMSELF to overdose his HP, and then both of them run out of cover guns blazing to kill as many Attackers as they can before they are blown to hell.

HG understands that well enough that instead of making him a medic, they make him the Guard class that sits behind another unit, buffing them but also meant to do DPS. That's fantastic, I am completely sure someone at HG remains a dedicated Siege player to this day.

Plus, I do love that the Free units on both R6S events are notoriously terrible but fan-favorite characters. Before his rework in R6S, Tachanka sucked ass, and after his rework he still wasn't picked competitively all that much, but he HAD to be the star of the event because he's Lord Tachanka with an LMG that rips through everything and is incredibly satisfying to use. In the same vein, Fuze is infamous for LOSING more games for his team than winning, since his gadgets are bouncing cluster bombs that often kill his teammates, the hostage they're rescuing, or even himself sometimes while completely missing actual enemies. You pick this guy and it's halfway to a loss already, so you're either a god on Fuze, a madman, maybe both, and that's absolutely why he's the next free unit. Now all of AK can get to experience griefing themselves with Fuze RNG. Fuck yeah.

#Arknights

[kaythefloppa]

Wild Kratts - Our Blue and Green World: Part 1: Review [Spoilers]

Welp, here it is, the Wild Kratts TV movie (not to be confused with the feature film they've been teasing us with since 2021). There's been a lot of hype around this special and season, especially with how much the latter was being hyped up during the hiatus. Let's see if the blue and green bros were able to deliver: Spoilers under the cut

Well, this is certainly an attention grabber!

This entire live action intro is shot and edited like an animated Wild Kratts episode, it's glorious.

Woah, intro change!

They said the thing! They said the thing!

HELP THIS IS SO RELATABLE. Also, THE BOYS ARE FIGHTING

Lmao I don't think they do it very often, but using animals/nature in their insults is very creative.

Also, whooping crane episode when?

This entire song is mercifully short. Like most character sung songs in Wild Kratts, it's not good, but this at least is clever in its lyrics and its visuals. It feels like a Disney reference at best and I am content with that. I also ADORED seeing the Draco and Walrus Suit return again. It's arguably the best musical number in the series. No, that is not saying a lot.

MARTIN WHY ARE YOU THE ONE WHO'S MIFFED YOU NEARLY MUFASA'D YOUR LITTLE BROTHER

CHRIS WHY ARE YOU MILDLY INCONVENIENCED YOU GOT ACRAPHOBIA FALLING FROM THAT HEIGHT

When I first saw the clip, I thought that they were going somewhere with this, like they'd activate Peacock Powers at the end when they recognized the compatibility and blue and green. But nope. Wasted potential is an understatement.

Also, where the fuck are they right now? In a previous shot there was Target the Chameleon, implying that they've been to Madagascar, but that is an Indian peafowl, and as far as I'm concerned, they don't live in Madagascar. Were they just having an off-day? These animals have little to nothing to do with the plot when they really shouldn't have, so I don't see why they couldn't have just shown a projector image or something.

Remember when I joked about the Wild Pony Power Suit returning in S7.... fuck you Apollo.

Man, they are eating it up with the animation here. It's hard to tell with screengrabs but man, is it fluid.

The first half of this episode is mixed. While it feels like the brothers are incredibly stubborn, it also does make sense for them to be this fixated on their favorites. So I can totally buy this. It could've been insufferable to watch, but it wasn't.

As if YOU haven't spied on them since the first time your dorito-headed ass showed up on screen

Did you find that funny? Because not only do they do a similar joke like that later on, but they follow through on that joke in the most unexpected way you will shit your pants when you first ingest it.

Oh my god if they make a Creature Power Suit off of that bird, I will take back any diss I've made, that is so beautiful.

Good to know that Aviva put the button near the chest and not near the back.

Maybe it's just me but this is kinda pushing it. Chris is literally getting his organs crushed, I think that should matter more than A) being right or B) trying to get 2 people to stop fighting.

I'm loving the callback and what this leads up to but ew, all this does is remind me about how ugly bright the color pallatte in S6. Really glad they fixed it in S7.

HELL FUCKING YES

This episode finds really unique ways of showing how the two different biomes are interconnected. It's like Rainforest Stew's (very brilliantly handled) message only to a larger degree. Kids can learn a lot from this.

I fucking love this episode, man.

Honestly, the way they write Paisley in the first half of the episode is very in-line with her character. Most shows that do what this episode does has them be out-of-character as a set-up, but here, she's just roasting the fuck out of Zach. Once again, recontextualized entirely in the climax.

HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET TO MADAGASCAR FROM THE GODDAMN AMAZON IN ONE AFTERNOON THAT IS LIKE MORE THAN 1,000 MILES AWAY?? ARE ANACONDAS THAT FAST?????

Also, INDRIS!!!!! :D

I was frankly expecting this to horribly backfire but spoilers, it doesn't. This actually winds up working. Common Aviva W.

To be continued.... will the blue and green rivalry end? Will one prove superior over another? And will they be able to stop Zach and Paisley and save the planet earth? And will this change the adventures of the Wild Kratts team forever? Stay tuned for part 2!

Pros:

The live action segments.

The animation of the earth's model.

The musical number not being ass.

Paisely's catty behavior.

The Anaconda Suit.

The inventive ways they show how the stability of the Earth is complex. There are a lot of ways it functions and thus a lot of ways it needs to survive

The comedy.

Cons:

The villains do not do anything until the second half of this episode. In fact, they're left completely in the backdrop. I expected them to make their prescence known and for Aviva to invent the discs to get them together for the SAKE of fighting the villains. But no. It makes the stakes feel hollow, which is the opposite of what they should be gunning for in an hour long special that they hype the shit out of.

CONCLUSION:

It was an "okay" set-up. It did live up to some of the hype it had, but not all of it. Honestly if it wasn't for the second half of this episode, this movie would be mediocre or slightly above average, but no. They do pick themselves off the ground and... they do jump the shark. But we'll get to that next time

#spoilers #season 7 spoilers #wild kratts #wild kratts season 7 #paisley paver #zach varmitech #kratt brothers #2d kratt brothers #2d martin kratt #2d chris kratt #I lost sleep over this episode istg #Youtube

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC Pick a Song - What About You Currently Shines Brightest?

Sup y'all, I'm back in time for the start of Leo season with another pick a card reading! The full moon is coming right up and I will likely do a reading for that as well very shortly, but I already had this done the other day and wanted to get it finally posted after much delay!

Below here are three cards to choose from belonging to the now-obsolete board game DropMix. It was a game connected to an app now unfortunately no longer in service, but it allowed the game to play by having chips in the cards activate a code that would send to a phone app to tally points as well as play music. You could pile the different cards together on a jockey board based on color and basically create your own remixes. You could play or make freestyle music. My basic pack has as many cards as the minor arcana + 4, so I thought these would be fun to bring out and work with for the partygoing Leo energy that's budding this late summer.

1, 2, 3

Pile 1. The Weeknd - Can't Feel My Face

Cards: Baroness (Fire, Leo); "I am in touch with my purpose and passion in life"; 7 of Swords, XIX Sun, XVIII Moon

(Okay just a quick note I just gotta let u know that I eventually plan to paint over the Sun card for my only RWS-esque deck because the smiley face creeps me out lol so I put a tiny candle over its haunting face. The Sun is supposed to be a positive card dangit!)

Anyway back to your reading! Right off the bat I feel like you're gonna be shining bright this season no matter how you personally feel about summer, get in the mood and live it up! Light that bonfire. Jump in the pile of autumn leaves. Tap into your senses in the most innocent and playful way. I feel like you shine brightly when you get excited about literally anything in your life, it could be a new brand of coffee or new pair of jeans or something but people like how you react to things. Reminds me of Youtubers who have these funny but authentic personalities as they review random products or whatever.

I feel like you can get so in love with something that you kinda, as the song suggests, "go numb" and let everything else fizzle away from your focus. But the thing to remember is that all those other things are still there even if they don't light you up. It's all about learning to find the sweet spot between really enjoying the moment and being in flow with the best of things while also attending to the gritty details. It doesn't mean you should "go numb" in the other direction by only focusing on practical things. When I see Sun and Moon in the same three card reading I am reminded of Temperance because you're trying to balance two different energies together that are ultimately meant to work together. Manifestation+work, joy+catharsis, reason+instinct, yeah? It's a lot to seesaw back and forth every day but 7 of swords tells me that you find ingenious ways to pull it off. Don't let the shyness snuff the light out, and don't let the egoic sense of duty override your needs.

If you feel like sometimes you have to sneak away to find time to enjoy what makes you shine from the inside, I'm getting guidance for the collective to simply learn how to share a little bit of what you're doing while balancing it with the part of you that wants to protect your creative ideas and work on them. Again, there's a message here about balance. You don't have to spill everything about your life to the first person who asks, but at the same time there will be people who benefit from your fiery energy. Your interests and talents deserve to take up some space, pile 1. I think this pile just shines in general even if you're not always aware of it, even if it's incredibly subtle. It's in the little things.

⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

Pile 2. Evanescence - Bring Me to Life

Shield (Fire, Sagittarius); "I attract relationship in harmony with my authentic self"; 5 of Cups, 10 of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles

This pile could be going through some awakening period right now. I know, I know, it may sound cliché with "wake me up inside" as the lyrics, but it occurred to me that the Shield in your card is like this old energy that has been barricading you from material experiences. Like this is a pile who's really already been in the thick of the brambles and is wanting to come out. The Sagittarius arrow sign is in my mind like a flare set off from deep in the woods as if to say, "hey! I'm over here, come find me!" It's being let off in the sky in the hopes of rekindling some sort of lost connection to something, could be a person or to a certain goal. You currently shine brightest when it comes to relating to others, and seeking out positive relationships.

It could be that you've gone through some disrupting experiences that have encouraged you to wall off to self heal. This may have taken a long period of time to work through. I feel that you're moving into a part of the thicket where more light is pouring in from the outside, that you're near the end of a long isolating tunnel. You're entering a phase of your life where you're ready to have connections that feel more solid and real, rather than fairweather friendships. You're looking for sustainability, for people to have some sense of loyalty with. People with whom you can truly enjoy the abundance of life. The main issue is that grief and isolation can becomes habits that we may need to temper with in order to allow the new. Forgive yourself when you still feel the need to retreat even as you begin to stand out more. Depending on how long it's been, it can be quite an adjustment.

Maybe abundance is coming a little slow here, as the green color here is blocky. But it's rich like emerald, so once it's found, things will transform in your life radically. It's saying that even if you identify as an introvert, there is still "treasure" to be found in building new relationships. It could be totally virtual. But you shine from making the most out of the opportunities that your current or as of yet undiscovered relationships have to offer. You have a lot to offer others as well. I do get a strong teaching role from this pile. Maybe you've thought about going into teaching. I think your students would see you as sensitive and resourceful.

⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

Pile 3. LMFAO - Sexy and I Know It

Marigold (Water, Scorpio); "I am wise and wonderful"; 6 of Pentacles, 2 of Pentacles, 10 of Cups

Your reading is so clear to me, you shine brightest when you are fully present in the moment and loving what you're doing and who you're being. I don't think this pile likes to waste any time lol. I think you've had some hard experiences that have taught you how to value the time and resources you have, especially when you give this energy way generously. And I get the sense that you're learning how to manage both the philanthropy side of things with the personal fulfillment side. You're learning that one does not necessarily require the sacrifice of another. Compromise, maybe, but not at a net loss. You can give without overextending the hand, you can seek out bliss in life without taking it away from others.

This is not a common trait to shine in, pile 3. It's a mature place to shine, but not always easy to develop. It's required a lot from you right from the beginning. There were probably some things you had to let go to make it all work before. But it doesn't always have to be that way. Your ability to rise above the situation, brush the dust off your coat and move forward is what makes you shine. Although I'll say this: even if it looks like all is going well, you're still allowed to feel whatever grief is stored up inside you. It's part of moving past it in order to make the most out of the present.

Some of these experiences may have had something to do with your sense of confidence, your body image, how your present yourself to others, self-expression, and I'm also getting pretty privilege as a topic. Self worth over buying the right kind of things too… I think you're letting your hair down finally. You're letting some outdated ideas about your image go, you shine when you declare yourself to be beautiful and sexy "just because". Why does there need to be a reason? Some people might tell you that you, in particular, aren't "allowed" to feel good in your own skin and clothes. Some may get threatened by your confidence. But it's because that's where you shine and it's up to them to adjust their vision. Tell em to make an optometrist appointment if they can't handle seeing your presentation.

⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, Vitaminsee Tarot ™

#tarotblr #tarot #tarot community #general reading #pac #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick an image #psychic readings #pick a song #pick a photo #tarot pac #pac reading #intuitive reading #collective reading #tarot reading #tarot cards #free tarot #leo season #astrology

[gffa]

HI LUMI 7,8 and 22 for Obi-Wan and Ahsoka If it's not too much? I hope you're well 🫶

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like? Obi-Wan Kenobi - There are actually a lot of things I like that fandom does when it comes to Obi-Wan (so many great time travel fics, so many fics that explore the balance he has between being a troll versus genuinely caring about and helping people, so many fics that explore his love for the Jedi), but I think my favorite thing is that the majority of fandom seems like it went, "Yeah, Anakin Skywalker is the central character of that guy's life." Whatever tone that takes, it's one of my favorite things about Obi-Wan Kenobi as a person, that he chose to dedicate his life to Anakin and no one meant more to him than Anakin, to the point that he couldn't see the truth depths of Anakin's fault lines, that he had to literally see Anakin murdering children to believe it, that even when he let Anakin go, he never was willing to turn his back on Anakin. Even when he knew it would mean his death, he left the choice in Anakin's hands, because that guy was so fundamental to who Obi-Wan Kenobi was. Fandom often explores that through a myriad of ways, whether funny banter when they were younger, heartbreaking fic as Obi-Wan has to try to process all the feelings while on Tatooine, sweet reunion fic when Obi-Wan helps him over to the other side in the Force, or alternate universes where things went better. Anakin is foundational to Obi-Wan's arc as a character and I love that so much of fandom reflects that, in such a myriad of creative ways! Ahsoka Tano - I love that fandom has embraced that Ahsoka is often a disaster, that too often she gets put up on a pedestal of perfection to the point that it erases her actual personality. But when I come into our corner of fandom, we're all shrieking in delight when she does something dumb because it makes us love her more, it highlights that sometimes she makes amazing decisions, that she's a compassionate and wonderful person, but that she can also be hypocritical at times, that she takes decades to get over Anakin's betrayal, that she can have complicated feelings about the Jedi, but that ultimately she loved them and she would have gone home to them, that she is allowed the space to be a complicated, fascinating, interesting character. 8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise? Obi-Wan Kenobi - Answered here. Ahsoka Tano - I dislike it when some in fandom don't actually seem to care about Ahsoka as a character and what she is actually like and just use her as a weapon to bash on the Jedi. Like, I can't and won't stop anyone if they disagree with my interpretation, there's room for us all, but I really dislike it when she's used for what feels like mean-spirited beating on characters that never actually did half of the stuff fandom accuses them of. It's a disservice to her character just as much to cut out her warmer feelings, to use her as a mouthpiece rather than focus on who she is and what she believes. I dislike it when fandom makes her perfect at the expense of other characters, like I am ALL FOR Ahsoka being amazing and incredible, let female characters be amazing and incredible!!!, but if it can only be done by making everyone around her terrible, then I'm not sure that actually says anything about how good she actually is. I also really dislike it when fandom thinks that Ahsoka could have saved Anakin on Mustafar, because the whole point was that Obi-Wan and Padme couldn't do it and they really were trying, the whole point is that Anakin was choosing this, he was choosing to become Vader, and to say that Ahsoka could have saved him at a time when the entire story was that no one could, it breaks her character and the narrative, like let her be amazing on her own terms and in her own way, let her story be her story, rather than subsuming her into Anakin's story! (This is why that episode of Ahsoka worked so well for me, because he became part of her story, rather than the other way around and it worked so well there.)

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you don't like? Obi-Wan Kenobi - I like it when authors can balance that Anakin is the central figure of Obi-Wan's life, but that he is allowed to have his own reactions about what Anakin has done. He's allowed the space to be angry, to need distance for awhile, to need to work through his feelings about Anakin's betrayal of everything they stood for and his friendship with Obi-Wan, that Obi-Wan doesn't need to put aside his own feelings immediately to go support Anakin. Ultimately, Anakin is someone that Obi-Wan will always want to support, but I think he should be given space to sometimes struggle with getting there because, you know, baby murder is a hell of a thing to swallow down without chewing on it first! Ahsoka Tano - I love when fic explores Ahsoka's relationships with other characters WITHOUT the expense of how Anakin is the central figure in her bigger story. I sometimes feel like Anakin is the only person she's ever allowed to interact with, when TCW went out of its way to show her having important relationships with Obi-Wan and Plo and Yoda and Luminara and Asajj and Rex and more. So I love it when fic can explore those other relationships, too, because it makes her connection with Anakin feel so much more interesting, that she has this huge collection of people she's connected with and he still is the one that is most firmly lodged in her heart! Also, my kingdom for more Ahsoka & Mace interaction fic where there's debris between them, but they clearly care about each other and are both deeply good people and are connected through the Force together.

#lumi.txt #star wars #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #meta #character ask game

[seungkwansphd]

edward scissorhands

pairing: jun x reader wordcount: 3.6k summary: you can only describe your best friend Jun’s halloween costume as a yassified edward scissorhands. and you want him...BADLY? no...no that simply can’t be right. genre/themes: smut, lazy & hurried plot, best friends to lovers, reader is DROWNING IN THE NILE. limbo jun, croptop jun, repressed angst?, soft post sex feels, dom/brat vibes. once again instigator/facilitator minghao.

a/n: idk...i went feral & wrote this in a fury. enjoy!

“Are you sure about this?” Jun couldn’t help the blush that had crept up his face as Minghao made last minute alterations to his Halloween costume.

“Yes, very,” Minghao peered over his glasses at his longtime friend.

“I just-,” Jun looked at himself critically in the mirror. “I don’t think this is what YN had in mind when they said I should dress up as Edward Scissorhands for Halloween.

“No, I don’t imagine it was. But I am also unwilling to listen to you gripe even one more time about being single and this will certainly do the trick.”

“My whole stomach is out!” Jun almost shouted at his friend, gesturing at his torso animatedly.

“Your abs are out,” Minghao corrected, “You have a great physique, you may as well use it to your advantage.”

“I’m-,” Jun grumbled.

“I already cut the fabric off and I won’t be bothered to put it back on,” Minghao cut him off impatiently.

    Minghao was so incredibly tired of listening to Jun’s whining about being single when what he really wanted was you. He was also tired of your endless moping over how all of your moody, emo dates were emotionally unavailable when what you really needed, but couldn’t see or wouldn’t accept, was your golden retriever boyfriend Jun. It was time to put his apparel design skills to task.

“Well, you’re not my type,” Minghao let out a low whistle as he patted himself on the back, “But this is one eye catching costume.”

    Jun had to agree. One could describe it as a yassified abstraction of Edward Scissorhands. The now cropped pleather jacket and shirt showcased the hard planes of his abdomen prominently. His blonde hair had grown out slightly and, once styled, would hang over his smudged, black eye makeup. It was a stark contrast to his usual appearance, but it was Halloween after all. If Minghao needed a creative project, who was he to say no?

…

“Explain to me, one more time please, what your costume is?” Lena furrowed her brows at you as she took in your fairly plain makeup and white dress.

    You huffed. Yes alone, you did look unremarkable in your Kim Boggs costume, but as soon as Jun arrived as Edward Scissorhands it would make a lot more sense.

“I’m Kim Boggs!” you wanted to yell. Why did nobody get your fantastic Tim Burton reference? And where the hell was Jun? “The girl from Edward Scissorhands.”

“So where is your Edward Scissorhands? Did you do half of a couples costume by yourself?”

“I don’t know where the hell Jun is! We were supposed to come together, but at the last minute he said Minghao needed some help or something. He should be here soon, I hope.”

“Wait, are you and Jun finally together?” Lena asked excitedly.

“What? No! Are you crazy?” you stuttered, giving her a confused look. “Jun is my best friend, hell no we did not get together!”

“Really?” Lena shook her head, confused. “So then why the couples' costume?”

“Who else was going to be my Edward Scissorhands? Minghao said it was too tacky, not his style. And I don’t really have a lot of other options as the dating has not gone well.”

“Oh no? Why’s that?”

“I guess my type…is emotionally unavailable,” you huffed, taking a sip of your drink. You didn’t want to go too into detail, as you knew it would make you moody and you still had hopes of enjoying the party. “It’s just…not going to plan, you could say.”

“Hm, is there a chance that you would go for a different type of person?” Lena shrugged. She knew your penchant for a dark haired, skinny, and moody boy, but had always wondered if someone more straightforward, easygoing, and funny might be more your speed.

“I-...” you trailed off, brain malfunctioning severely after your eyes flew to the door. Jun had arrived.

“You…?” Lena tried to follow your incomplete train of thought before realizing your attention had been sucked completely elsewhere. She followed your gaze and could not help the shit eating grin that spread across her lips as she realized what…or better said, who you were staring at. “Hello, Earth to YN!” she laughed, tapping you on the forehead gently to get your attention back.

“Huh? Sorry, what were you saying?” you asked her. You blinked as you tried to understand what had just happened, but your mind was painfully devoid of thoughts.

“I was saying, you might want to think about branching outside of your normal type? When it comes to dating. You never know what might tickle your fancy, if you give it a shot.”

“Yeah…,” you nodded, clearly not listening as Jun finally spotted you.

    You had no earthly explanation as to why, but your heart started pounding erratically as he fixed his sulky, smudged gaze on you and approached. It might’ve just been the boots, but something about his walk was even distracting to you. Slower than usual, somehow more deliberate, and very different from your typically eager best friend.

“There you are,” his dark facade cracked into a bright smile as he looped his arm around your shoulder happily. “Sorry I’m late. Costuming emergency.”

“I see,” you mumbled, unable to tear your eyes away from your friend’s abs. “Did Minghao just chop off half of your costume or what?”

“More like a quarter, but yea. He said he was taking over creative control.”

“Ah,” you nodded. You knew you were staring, but somehow looking at his abs seemed more appealing and attainable than staring at his face.

“YN!” Minghao popped up, dressed as a very impressive Jack Skellington.

“Oh my god!” you screamed excitedly at his costume. “Hao you look amazing!” you pressed up onto your toes to get a closer look at his face paint. “Wow, amazing!”

“Thank you,” Minghao nodded surely. He had done a fantastic job with his costume, indeed.

“I look so boring between you two,” you pouted slightly, pointedly avoiding looking at Jun.

“You’re the one who wanted to be Kim Boggs.”

“Yes, but if I’d known you were going to make Jun’s costume slutty, I would’ve done that too! This costume is canonically accurate, so now I just look plain.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t look slutty!” Jun protested, flushing.

“J-just with your little waist out like that? A-and your makeup all sexy?” you stuttered, filter completely abandoned at this point.

    You could feel Lena and Minghao smirking so painfully smugly at you as Jun looked slightly bewildered at your outburst.

“Nothing. It’s fine!” you shrugged, needing to go outside and clear your mind. “I’ll be back, Jun-bug,” summoning a decades-old nickname to try and remind yourself that this was your friend.

“You better get it together, you dumbass,” you chastised yourself as you paced back and forth.

    How embarrassing it was to be having this sort of reaction to Jun, of all people. Were you really so shallow that all it took was some pleather costuming and smudged eye makeup to go feral for someone who was decidedly not your type? You kicked yourself for ever suggesting this costume to Jun.

    After a few more minutes of muttering, you felt like you could return. Sucking in a deep breath, you pulled open the door just to have to shut it again.

“Absolutely not,” you shook your head, trying to wipe the image of Jun engaging all of his core muscles for a game of limbo from your mind. Nope. Outside was great.

    You took a seat on a bench near the fire to collect yourself for a second time. Why on earth was this happening to you? This was Jun for god sakes! You’d drank hand sanitizer in middle school with this man. You’d been the one to teach him, woefully recently, that females have three holes and not two. God damn it.

“YN!” your name shocked you out of your stupor. You groaned slightly, seeing Jun approach you with some concern in his face.

“Are you okay? You’ve been out here for a long time. Did you drink too much already? You’re supposed to be my beer pong partner.”

    You smiled with relief. This was the Jun you knew, chattering on without a care. You could hide this from him if you wanted to.

“I’m okay,” you answered, smiling nervously up at him. “I’m just distracted, I guess.”

“Oh, by what? Are you that upset that I changed my costume? Minghao, he just-”

“No, it’s not that,” you laughed. Jun had always had a talent for getting so painfully close to the point and just barely missing.

“So what is it?” He fixed a serious look at you.

    You swallowed under his tense gaze. You could feel your body reacting, wanting to look so disrespectfully at your friend.

“You?” you all but whimpered, gaze back on his abs, when you answered.

“Me?” Jun was confused, following your line of vision to his own torso. His heart pounded in his ears. In all your years of friendship, despite his secret wishes, you’d never looked at him like this. He’d buried it over time, but seeing you look up at him, your expression a mixture of disbelief and desire knocked his old crush loose again way too easily.

“What, cause I’m dressed like this you want me to be mean to you, like those guys you’ve been dating?” Jun asked, more than slightly bitter.

“Huh?” your face screwed up in confusion. His jealousy was easy to clock, but the way your breath grew shallow at Jun’s harsh words was bewildering.

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen me shirtless before,” Jun chuckled, ego swelling at the way you reacted.

“Jun,” you squeaked as he pulled you onto your feet.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked. He was genuinely curious now.

“I-…want you,” you sighed.

“Me? Or just this version of me?” he needed to know.

“I don’t know!” you stamped your foot, genuinely frustrated at this tangled ball of feelings that had shown up suddenly.

“Hey, hey!” Jun suddenly snapped back to reality, seeing the distress on your face, “I’m just teasing, you’re so easy to rile up,” he tried to play it off, cupping the sides of your face in his large hands.

“Not funny,” you sigh, heart still pounding. Your skin prickled at Jun’s comforting touch and it was like the last piece of your brain suddenly clicked into place. “I want you,” you blurt out.

“I said I was just teasing,” Jun rebuts instinctively.

“I don’t-, I’m not,” you shake your head firmly. “Please?”

    Jun folds. Almost before you can even complete your soft request, he lowers his face to yours and kisses you firmly. You moan into his mouth as he pulls you against him, your soft curves molding against his hard musculature. 

“Will you take me home?” you murmur against his lips and Jun doesn’t have to think twice. He picks you up and carries you to his car, sending Minghao a brief and apologetic text before driving away.

“You know, we don’t have to,” Jun offers as soon as you enter his apartment.

“I want to,” you pout, his kindness making your chest tighten.

“You just want me for my slutty waist,” Jun laughs, catching your eyes on his abs again.

“Maybe,” you look away indignantly.

“C’mere,” Jun beckons you. You walk towards him and he surprises you by grabbing you by the wrists and placing your hands on his torso. “Look any harder and your eyeballs will fall out.”

“Jun!” you flush at his teasing, but your hands explore anyway.

“You’re cute when I tease you,” he laughs darkly in your ear. Who knew Jun had this side to him.

“Junie,” you squeak as his fingertips dig into your hips and you gush for him. “Bed, now.”

“Yes, princess,” he nods, hauling you onto his hip to carry you into his bedroom. You melt a little bit, hearing his nickname for you in this context. “That works for you, huh?” he chuckled, picking up on your soft sigh before setting you down.

“Seems so,” you blush furiously. Juns blonde hair hangs in his eyes as he looks down at you. The jacket makes his already tall frame look even larger and more looming than usual. “Fuck,” you squeak, thighs pressing together.

“Uh uh, open,” Jun tuts, sliding a hand between your knees to press you open. “Oh,” he grins wolfishly as his fingertips discover your telling wetness.

    You let out a strangled sigh and it goes right to his head. While Jun was doing a pretty good job of keeping his cool and staying in character for you, he was freaking out internally. He would go straight to hell for lying if he ever said he’d never pictured you in his bed before, but to have you here and now was another thing completely.

“Junie, you okay?” you looked up at him with concern as he was deep in thought. “We don’t have to, if you’re having second thoughts.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jun snapped out of it, looking at you as if you’d grown a second head. “I’ve been waiting for you to be ready for this for years,” he laughs darkly before pressing his palm against you, hard.

“Ah!” you cry out, unable to process his confession as he barreled past it. “Jun!” you gasped, squirming at his precise pressure.

“Stay still, kitten,” he grumbled, his left hand coming up to grab you firmly, just under the jaw.

    You buckled. You folded. You melted against him with a fluttery ‘hmm’, grabbing at his jacket weakly for support.

“Just like that?” your best friend chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple before stepping back. “You’re too easy.”

    A soft laugh of disbelief is all you can manage as you watch Jun shrug off his jacket. Your brain is addled with a bunch of realizations that threaten to solidify, so you shake your head, putting that off for just a while longer.

“Jun, come here,” you pout, pulling him towards you by his belt loops. You press soft kisses against his exposed abs and along his waistband, palming him through his pants.

“Fuck,” he hissed, growing weak at the knees. His hand threads through your hair, applying gentle pressure.

“Can I suck you off?” you asked politely, fingertips resting at his belt buckle.

“Go ahead,” he responded cooly, even though he felt like his head was going to catch fire.

    You hummed excitedly as you undid the buckle. The plasticky material crinkled loudly as you pulled it down, but you managed to unleash Jun’s proud erection. Grasping him at the base, you wasted no time and slid your lips over him. Groaning appreciatively at the way he filled your mouth up, you worked up and down at a medium pace. A bubble of pride rose in your chest at the strangled sounds that Jun made.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Jun groaned, eyes rolling back into his head. “Of course you give immaculate head too.”

    A baffled smile curled onto your lips as you processed Jun’s compliment. Immaculate? He really knew how to hit you right in the praise kink.

“Juuuuun,” you pulled back to whine impatiently. “I want to ride you.”

“By all means, go ahead,” Jun laughed, shucking his pants off and laying back on the bed.

    You had planned to undress as well, but seeing Jun laid back with his erection jutting proudly upwards was completely derailing and you found yourself climbing onto him, the front of your dress gaping wildly open to favor him an unobstructed view of your breasts.

“You look a mess,” he laughed, somehow both derisive and affectionate. “You want me that badly?”

“I-I don’t like this side of you,” you lied, flushing bright red and refusing to answer his question.

“Liar,” he chuckled, palming your breasts firmly before he reached up, hooking his hand around the back of your neck, pulling your face down to his. “If you want to ride my cock, which you obviously do, I want to hear you say it.”

    Jun almost felt mean, but the way your pupils dilated reassured him. Your lips pursed slightly and you thought about punching him before you gave in.

“I want you,” you admitted reluctantly. “I want you to split me in half, Jun,” you admitted, head hanging in shame at the words you’d just said out loud.

“Oh? I mean go ahead,” Jun nodded, eyes wide.

    You moved with embarrassing speed, reaching down to slide him into you. You’re a little surprised at the size, but your toes curled at the sensation of having to slide down slowly and stretch around him. You let out a sigh when you bottomed out, letting out a breath you hadn’t been aware you’d been holding.

“You’re so tiny,” Jun pants, grabbing at the front of your dress as he rolled his hips.

“I hate you,” you squeak as he thrust into you, deep and full.

“Yes, I can see that,” he rolled his eyes at your bratty display. “Do you usually cream on everyone that you hate? Or just me?”

“Jun!” you gasped, scandalized and reeling. You looked away, trying to hide your blush, but Jun had other ideas.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you,” he demanded, grabbing your chin and turning your eyes back towards him. His index and pointer finger slid into your open mouth and he stroked impossibly deeper into you as your lips closed around him.

    Your expression grew frantic as you spasmed around him. You wanted to say something, to warn him, but your mouth was full. Jun can read your cues too well, though, and he grins encouragingly up at you as you come apart around him, the ball of flames in the pit of your belly ripping through you.

“Wen Junhui,” you narrow your eyes at him after you’re finally able to catch your breath. “What the hell was that?”

“What? You didn’t like it?” he played with your hair as you laid across his chest.

“No, it’s not that,” you shake your head furiously. 

    Truth be told, you were having trouble pinpointing exactly what your hang up was. It certainly wasn’t that you hadn’t enjoyed it. And sure, you’d wondered in passing about what it might be like to date Jun, but you wondered that about everyone so you’d never thought that much about it.

“Talk it out with me,” he suggested, like he always did when you were confused or conflicted.

“I’ll try,” you huffed, forcing your thoughts into coherency. “Well, one. I didn’t think that was ever going to happen, so I’m kind of in shock. Two, I don’t understand how you seem to have crawled into my brain to know all the right buttons to press. And three, I’m just kind of annoyed that I’m so blindsided by it? Like were there no indications for me that you have this side to you?”

    Jun laughed, propping your chin up with his palm.

“Well, to your first point, I’ve probably thought about this enough times to make up for you threefold. Two: I’m your best friend? I know so much about you, is it a surprise that I can infer some of your sexual preferences? You're not exactly subtle, you’re kind of bratty as a friend too.”

    You opened your mouth in protest at this statement and Jun cut you off with a pointed ‘see?’ look.

“And to your last point…at least part of it is that I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?”

“Cause I was so hopelessly smitten over you for a while and I wanted you to feel the same about me. But the whole me, not just that side of me. And then I just got used to it, I guess.”

    Your eyes swum at this statement. You were speechless.

“Hey, we’re okay right? I'm still your Jun,” he squeezed your cheeks nervously.

“It’s just-, I mean,” you tried several times to start your answer before succeeding. “It’s very difficult to reconcile the person I just had sex with and my best friend. But yes. You are my Jun. It’ll just take some getting used to,” you nodded.

    Jun’s eyebrows raised.

“Inch-resting,” he stroked an invisible mustache as he waggled his eyebrows at you playfully. “So you’re saying we’ll be doing this again?”

“Wen Junhui, I really do hate you!” you pinched him in the side. He was such a good goddamn goofball and it was one of the things you loved most about him.

“No you don’t,” he laughed, rolling over so that he was laying on you. He wasn’t heavy, more like a human weighted blanket. “Ow my balls,” he winced before readjusting so that his thick erection nestled between your thighs.

“Y-you’re doing this on purpose,” you narrowed your eyes at him, the heavy heat of him making you feel melty again.

“Uh duh! I told you, I’ve been waiting for this for years,” he looked meaningfully into your eyes.

    You had fully melted now. You kicked yourself for not seeing things more clearly and sooner, but Jun didn’t let you wallow for too long. He was right, you had a lot of lost time to make up for!

#jun smut #junhui smut #jun fanfic #junhui fanfic #svt smut #svt fanfic #jun imagines #jun scenarios #junhui imagines #junhui scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seungkwansphd:writes #jun x reader #junhui x reader #seventeen smut

[teyamsatan]

say something nice about your favorite mutuals!

there's so many people i want to say something about i am genuinely considering making a whole separate post and pouring all my love and affection for everyone i am mutuals with because THEY DESERVE IT AND I LOVE YOU ALL SO SO MUCH :(((

@tiredmamaissy - my issy baby, she was the first writer mutual i had and i remember hyperventilating to my bf when I saw that notification massively because i was such a fan and it meant so much to me. she was also the first person to reach out to me privately when i got my first anon hater and she made me feel so much better about that whole situation, and i will forever me grateful to her for that

@neteluvr - kendra means so so much to me, she has been with me pretty much since the beginning, and she was one of the people that stuck with me and my writing and i love her so much for that. she commented on EVERY illicit affair/the archer chapter and her feedback made my world, i used to wake up at like 5-6 in the morning to see if she has commented because it meant so much to hear what she had to say. she's probably my first tumblr mutual and i've come to love and respect her so so much, to admire her beauty, intelligence and compassion, and my life wouldn't be the same without her, our chats, our mutual love for ts for sure <3

@lanasblood - my baby lana is doing her own thing at the moment, but i hope when she comes back she sees this because i love and miss her so much, our late night conversations mean the world to me and she's just overall such an incredible, beautiful, funny, intelligent girl, and her writing leaves me genuinely starstruck every time with no fail. BABY I MISS YOU COME BACK TO ME RN!!! :(((

@pandoraslxna - Luna is one of the first people I followed on tumblr and she was a celebrity to me for sure hahahaha, i remember sending her a couple of asks when i first started writing bc I was such a fan of her work and the way she carried herself on the platform. When she followed me back and started reblogging my works i literally screamed and cried, i couldn't believe it hahahaha. I love her so much, I consider her a friend and I'm so happy I met her. Her writing inspires me, her kindness and beauty and openness and unwavering support for her fellow creators speak for themselves, but i will just say i love her a lot and i'm grateful to know her <3

@blue-slxt - my baby blue is such a kind, beautiful, kindred spirit. i haven't known her that long but it feels like a lifetime? i feel so close to her and like i know her and want to know her and want to be around her more and more each day. she is so kind and compassionate, so incredible and heroic, i admire the hell out of her for what she does, for helping to save lives, to change lives each day, i am so grateful for her and i can't wait to celebrate more milestones with her <3 ilysm pookie :(((

@fleurriee - my beautiful flower, she brightens my day in a way you wouldn't believe? not only is she a phenomenal writer, and pretty much the only person (alongside lana) who can get me to like fluff hahahaha, but she is a beautiful, incredible, awe-inspiring, light of a human being. i adore her and miss her so much when she's gone, and i genuinely don't know what i must have done right to manage to meet her in the circumstances that i did <3

@jakexneytiri - dani, my beautiful baby, i love her so much? she genuinely radiates such kindness and positivity, she is such a beautiful soul, full of love and light, and she always makes me feel safe and like i can tell her anything and she would listen and not judge? i am so appreciative of her and everything she's done for this fandom, i appreciate how tirelessly she works to make sure this is a healthy, happy community, i love talking and thirsting with her about dilf jake, and i LOVE her creativity and passion she puts in every project :(( ily baby

@neytris - i genuinely ADORE su with all my heart??!?!?! like she is one of the absolute funniest, most beautiful, kindest person i've ever met and I DIE every time i see her posts, and reblogs, her tags, i feel like i want to be su when i grow up and that's that!!!! i love you bb and never stop being you, because you are absolutely the brightest star <3 this barbie is hyperventilating over THE barbie x

@sulieykte - i feel like talking about lys is redundant, because no words or essays or novels can describe what she means to me, i'm literally tearing up just thinking about it. she has genuinely been my rock the past few months and i don't know what i would have done without her? i cannot imagine my life without her anymore, without talking to her daily, without sharing my every thought, woe and achievement with her and knowing that she'll feel it and understand, the same way I do with her. she's my soulmate, my twisted sister, and i love her to the moon and to saturn :((

it's 11pm and i'm writing this half asleep and i promise i'll do a part two in order to appreciate everyone the way they deserve <3 i love you besties xoxoxo

#my asks 💕 #˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ andra's mooties #i'm crying bc i love you all sm

[hacked-by-jake]

Hey HBJ, How are u? :)

as we are remembering things....CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT IN MOONVALE WE WILL BE ABLE TO READ FANFICS?? I keep imagining that Jake and MC became so famous that people created FANFICS about the two of them or about the Duskwood case itself, I was surprised by this decision by everbyte and I believe that they read a lot of fanfics from extremely talented authors in the fandom and want to somehow reproduce it in the new game.

(I imagine Jake reading these fanfics in the game and being embarrassed when he finds a hot one)

Hey Ho, dear Anon. Nice to see you here! Doing alright, I guess, thank you so much for asking. How about you?

Well, yes! Absolutely needed to remember. Tbh, after finishing episode 10, the last few days I really had to think about it excessively, I still don’t know what to think about it. I mean, I don’t know any game or similar that that has ever done this. It's so, wow. And also 'wtf' xD

And in fact, I have the same theory as you, which would definitely make a lot of sense, if not most sense. And that’s why I don’t know exactly what to make of it, especially, what fanfictions will they use? And how exactly it is going to be, ahhhh. It's crazy, definitely.

Another possibility would be that it is something like another forum, only this time for writers or something. Or another library-like thing. I mean, had this two things in duskwood. And finding some 'books' aka fanfictions there would be interesting as well. Or yeah, like in the forum, people shared their written things.

This is a huge mystery, tbh. I can’t believe Everbyte just dropped that question and then didn’t mention it ever again. How can they do this to us? 😭 It's truly tormenting my thoughts. xD

However, I am also a bit afraid of how it will be and how exactly it will turn up. I mean, this could get a lot of people into fanfiction who don’t know or appreciate this kind of creativity. I feat it could also lead to hate for the authors or for people making jokes about it etc. So I really hope everything is going to be careful with it.

And also, gosh, if they read fanfiction... PLEASE NO. I mean, I don’t know if they know about tumblr and the fandom but just imagine it is... WAHHHHH. A bit embarrassing, tbh. But also kinda cool. Because it's absolutely right, we have so many amazing writer in this community and I would love it when Everbyte knows about them. They writer deserve to be appreciated for it.

And, Jake reading some smut about him and MC... I LOVE THIS so much. It would be so funny and well, hot. This imagine is incredible. Also that other people around MC would know about these type of fanfiction and that people wrote some including MC. Call me weird but I love that as well. Hehe. It is definitely a slightly different way to show off. But it's a good way.

Thank you for this reminder, dear Anon. Seriously. I'm anxious but to thrilled about it and I can't wait to see what Everbyte came up with for us. I already see us all going insane about it on Tumblr. xD

I hope you're having an amazing day or evening/night. Take care of yourself and stay healthy and safe. <3

#cute dw anon #cute mv anon #cute dw x mv anon #hbj dw answers #hbj dw x mv answers #hbj mv answers #duskwood #moonvale #duskwood jake #duskwood hacker #iamjake #moonvale jake #dw x mv jake #everbyte studio #duskwood game #duskwood everbyte #everbyte duskwood #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #everbyte game #moonvale game #moonvale everbyte #everbyte moonvale

[flowercrown-bard]

Why is the Roche/Ciri ship always only crap for you all?

Hey, i once read a draco x apple fanfic. I have no room to judge anyone's ship and I don't think I ever did that (outside of private conversations). What i am judging is someone ruining the fandom experience for other people. If you really are as upset and hurt by people hating on your ship as you say, I'm sure you understand why people don't like you hating on their ship. (btw it's hilarious that you sent me hate for rorveth and cirys. Literally the only character included here that i even know is Ciri. If you sent me geraskier hate there would at least be context since i actually ship it, but i have absolutely no opinion on those ships you mentioned. I don't even know them) You've been told by others why they are annoyed by your asks and obviously it has no effect on you, so i won't bother repeating what they've already said, but i do occasionally love hearing myself talk so i wil still write a far longer response than i should So this isn't a hate response, it's a love letter to fandom. So here's what made being in a fandom so special to me:

The support.

Fandom to me is, at its core, strangers sharing their excitement, inspiring each other and admiring what other people do. When i started writing i was so self conscious, i couldn't sleep after posting a chapter because I was so anxious. And i received so much support even for works that are really not that great. There's something so wonderful about cheering others on and getting cheered on. That sort of open and heartfelt support is not something you experience in real life and it made some hard times much better for me. It's incredible knowing that people across the globe collaborate, send each other prompts or getting really excited about something someone else did.

2. The possibility to just…not engage in conversations i don't want to be in.

It's so freeing to have the option to block people of just not respond. There's always some sort of controversy or just some takes i don't like. How wonderful that i can just not look at those things

3. Getting to be creative and knowing it makes people happier

Your fic or art isn't brilliant? Who cares. It's so freeing to create something out of love, for people who love the same thing. I started writing for the first time since i was a child because of fandom. I dabbled in creating fanart (and realised the medium isn't for me, which is also great to find out), i wrote poetry (which I never wanted to do) and badly recorded songs (which i felt so self conscious about). Was it all good? Ha, absolutely not. But i got zo try it out and i wouldn't have done that without fandom. There is no external pressure to be good (or if there is pressure from other people to create and be good, there are always a ton of others telling you why this pressure is unfair and should be ignored). There are no grades, no deadlines. Just the love and joy of creating and sharing your creation. Or not sharing them, if that's what you want. Both is fine and that's the point

4. Seeing people of all skill levels share their works

And all of their art is beautiful and meaningful, no matter if they qre a master of their craft or someone who pickef up a pen for the first time to try out this medium

5. Seeing different interpretations

I don't like many of them but it's so interesting to see how others are interpreting something. That can be anything from the question of who's a top to some in depth meta analysis. People enjoy different things and it's so cool to see what they focus on

6. The people in general. I pretty much left the witcher fandom months ago (i tried writing for it again but it was so hard that I gave up) but through it, i met incredible people, some of who have become irreplaceable parts of my life and i am so thankful for fandom for bringing us together like this. When i was in the fandom, i got to know people are so talented, unbelievably creative, kind, funny, supportive and so many other wonderful things (even those i never talked to directly. If you left a comment on something i wrote or made my days brighter with your own creations, you are amazing and i appreciate you a lot)

Basically, fandom for me was an experience that brought me joy and a sense of community. It's on you to seek out the fandom experience you want to have. If you want that experience to be one of bitterness and hate, I'm really sorry for you. But more than anything I'm sorry for the people who you drag into this by harrassing them even after they blocked you. If you want to stew in bitterness over shipping a rarepair, that's your decision. But if other people want to enjoy the fandom in a more joyful way, then that should be their decision too and you don't get to take it away from them and ruin their love. Because ultimately that's what fandom is to me and i treasure the memory of that love more than I value the opinion of someone who apparently takes joy in trying (and hopefully failing) to take that love away

#I have a lot more to say but I'll shut up now #Or else I'd still be rambling in an hour #Also just so you know #Some people aren't just annoyed by you #Getting your spam is pretty funny and feel almost like a strange kind of chievement #Look ma! The random internet person noticed me! I made it as a fandom creator :D #Seriously though you're wasting your and everyone else's time #I'm not sure if anyone is taking you seriously at this point #Go eat some grass or something

[siderealscribblings]

Hello. I hope you're okay with me dumping every ounce of my adoration for you The Games of Divinity series here, because I simply cannot stay silent any longer. I read the whole thing yesterday in the span of fifty three minutes at one a.m. with my eyes barely open and a blanket up to my chin so it was truly one of those Authentic Fic Experiences TM. I'm obsessed. I'm enraptured. I'm in love.

Your character analyses of Neuvillette and Furina? Chef's kiss. I am throwing them into a glass jar and shaking vigorously to watch them bounce off the walls. I am chewing on them like a four year old with unlimited access to a bag of Starburst and every flavour in their mouth at once. I am gripping you by the shoulders with tears streaming down my face because you have ruined every fic I read for the next two hundred and sixteen business days. Nothing will ever compare. Sanity is a long lost dream. Your AO3 account isn't a prison, it's home.

If you can't already tell, I adore your work. As a writer myself, I get gender envy while reading it. Except its writing style envy. Your use of italics for highlighting humour is wonderful. The shift in dynamic across the years with Furina and Neuvillette is masterfully done. It's hard to ship Neuvifuri because to me it's only appealing in one of two scenarios: an AU where Neuvillette knows, or one in which he begs pitifully for Furina's forgiveness after trapping her and putting her on trial without knowing what she was going through. Your fic is easily the best example of the former I've ever read. The only reason I haven't flooded your inbox with Kudos and AO3 comments is because my account is acting up and I had to read as a guest.

I love every chapter. Like actually. The first one? Seeing their initial attitudes towards each other was fascinating. The one where Neuvillette gets The Horny? Literally so funny and somehow hot as hell at the same time. The chapter from the POV of the Gardes? Hilarious and an incredibly creative way of showcasing their relationship from the perspective of an outsider. On that note, the Gardes themselves are such colourful characters, I think it's amazing how you went to the effort to give everyone such a distinctive personality. Also the scene with Xiao and Zhongli was scrumptious, that one line... "Zhongli placed a hand on the back of his neck, thumb gently kneading the soft spot where his neck and shoulder met like a man scruffing an unruly cat." That's so cute to me. Your Honour. They are so cute. And Neuvi being all baffled by himself for trying to intimidate Zhongli was endlessly amusing, especially when you said something along the lines of '"Neuvillette didn't mind being spoken of like a dog in heat, but he drew the line at barbs being aimed at Furina." You nail the dynamics every single time. Wild.

The internal conflicts of both Furina and Neuvillette are delightful as well. Furina's guilt for needing Neuvillette versus Neuvillette wishing Furina would let herself need him? Collapses. I am bleeding from multiple stab wounds. It's so eiohrohsiowiourwhrf. They're so vdhkfhoewirdkf. Neuvillette being awed by her humanity versus Furina wishing she could properly hide it. Neuvillette wishing he could share her altruism but knowing he would send a fleet to die in Furina's place even if she despised him for it. Banging my fist on the table. The intrinsic protectiveness and the guilt of needing to be protecting. Clutching my head in my hands. Tearing out my hair. Shuddering like I'm attached to an electric chair cranked up to the highest voltage.

I would suffer the trials of every hero from Greek mythology to read more of it.

Thanks for reading! Love hearing your thoughts on this; I think one of the big appeals about this pairing is crazy devotion that can happen between two people lying to God's face. It's like the greatest hits of every ship that's tickled my brain over the years and I'm glad I have an opportunity to play around with it.

No Neman Lions will need to be slain for the next chapter (probably)

#writeblogging #the games of divinity

[peccaberry]

HI I HOPE YOU DONT THINK THIS IS STRANGE. if it is then please accept my apologies in advance!

i came from ACD — holy shit this fic has me under some kind of magic. i found it last night and am only just now starting ch10 but i have been having a blast with every single chapter. i can't put it down haha

i'm normally very quiet about my enjoyment of things because i don't like making myself visible, but it's quite frankly criminal that you don't have more people commenting on your work!!

i feel your characterization of volo to be incredibly accurate (seriously! i can picture him in my head easily with what you write for him), and your interpretation of rei is really creative — plus, i love that there's art and music/playlists to go along with the story. i love your uses for the legendaries thus far, and the core four of rei's team as well.

the humorous narration and dialogue you sprinkle in throughout the story have me having to take small breaks to really let some comments or exchanges settle in. that, along with how you title chapters — good lord, you are funny as fuck. please continue, i need more laughs like this.

this fic has been scratching every single itch i've had, giving me everything i was looking for (AND stuff i didn't even know i needed!) and the overwhelming joy i felt to see that the last update was YESTERDAY? is unfathomable.

i'm so genuinely excited to continue reading, but i just had to drop by and give you my support.

thank you so, SO much for sharing your writing! i'm so so so genuinely happy i found your fic. 🥹

my writer friend has encouraged me to comment more, so you might see some more gushing from me in your ao3 comments coming up. depending on if i chicken out or not </3

I'm trying to think of anything to say that isn't me just sobbing and going JFJFJEJFIDJ YOU'RE SO NICE THANK YOU??? but this broke my brain tbh. I didn't realize it was be nice to Pecca day but man I needed it.

Anyways uhhhh please do continue to comment with your thoughts if you feel you have anything to say because this really did and still does mean to world to me to hear!!!!

It makes me wanna keep writing and doing my best for you guys because the people who leave me comments like this are the ones I think about when I'm struggling to get through my own self doubt about if the story is any good or if people still want to read it. Like logically I know people still do but when you're a writer you get in your own head about it a lot.

Also the fact you sent me this after chapter 10 means a lot to me bc it's a chapter I love but it's also one I'm kinda insecure about. Some people like music in fics, other people don't but knowing it's reached the audience of people who would appreciate it makes me feel better :')

I am sending you so much love and appreciation for your support!!! Gonna work on the new chapter more today specifically for you Anon.

#peccaspeaks #pokemon fanfiction #achillies come down fanfiction #asks #a03 fanfic

[aristotels]

Thinking about art and fiction and concepts of ownership and honestly it's kinda fucked that collaborative and transformative storytelling is literally as old as time and one of the most basic human instincts that exists, but the only good word it we have right now is "fanfiction"

and when you tell people you write fanfiction they think you're some kind of cringe weirdo and possibly pervert and then the whole thing gets derailed by this bizarre side discussion into how "No it's not all porn, it's absolutely everything and anything imaginable, duh, but like, even if it were all porn, that would also be okay". Like I'm all for pointing out the double standards about how published authors who put sex into their stories don't lose any respectability (especially if they're men, and especially if the sex is cishet), but the second I, a fanfiction person, add a romantic arc into my plotty casefic suddenly I'm a fujoshi with shipper brainrot etc etc-

But it's tiring that this is even a focal point

My favourite funny and sad thing is watching people (usually dudes) who clearly either view themselves as above fanfiction or have simply never ever thought of themselves as "the type" to do creative writing discover The Fanfiction Urge, because the way they express it is like. An increasingly passionate and detailed video essay about how Movie should have gone instead, or, my favourite, a story about something cool that happened to them in XCOM or Darkest Dungeon or some other Difficult Game For Serious Gamers and by the end of the post they're legitimately just writing prose. Like look at this! LOOK! Damn if this person didn't speedrun the gamerbro-to-AO3 pipeline just for a sec. And not that there's anything wrong with those formats but it makes you wonder if that's something they'd be interested in exploring more if their wings got unclipped

Or DnD. Small wonder that TTRPGs are becoming so popular when they're one of the few increasingly non-cringe ways to do the extremely basic human urge of Tell Story Collaboratively

A friend of mine had this to say recently about his own struggles with this kind of internal bias:

i'd like to try out Thousand-Year-Old Vampire (a solo role-playing game with minimal rules to make you write your own narrative) and my toxic masculinity is getting in the way. discouraging thoughts include: i'm not creative enough; creative writing is for Floofy Humanities types and i am a Cold STEM type; it's not a real game unless it has Systems that you can Study and Master. would anyone like to say something encouraging?

and honestly that's incredibly illuminating innit isn't it. The splitting off of creative activity (not just fanfiction, either) into something only for Floofy Humanities Types but not Serious People and the way it's linked to whether or not you can make money off it... oof.

This became a long post thank you for your patience

ngl i just dont rly care that much for fandoms... i like fanfic, i read it and write it, but i dont rly see fandom as my identity or smth i particularly care about, to me all of it is just the same as me playing with barbie dolls.

i dont think its something special that can be compared to actual literature and i think there are certain problems w booktok people relying on tropes that come from fanfic mentality. its just not the same, and i do wish people who like fanfic would sometimes also read.......some actual books sometimes

i just generally dont see what youre describing as some huge thing or problem, i think anti-kink ppl doxxing artists is the major worrisome thing when it comes to fandoms, but i think the doxxers also take the whole fandom experience too seriously

and i say this as someone who also writes fanfic, so like, it rly isnt me going "fanfic authors/readers are stupid", i find fanfic super cool to explore yourself, fanart taught me sooo much as an artist, i even enjoy roleplaying; all of this serves a very real purpose of exploring things as a human in realms of fiction, and pre-existing characters make that easier. i think that can be very useful, we learn about ourselves through books and stories. i just think fandom should be treated the way it is - playtime with toys ✌️