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aoitrinity · 3 years

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Why Do I Have to Feel Like a Fucking Conspiracy Theorist -- OR -- How I Find a Semblance of Peace on Sunday Night

I’m also going to start this out with a GIANT DISCLAIMER.

I am about to theorize about what may have happened to the SPN finale. I have absolutely no insider knowledge. I am merely speculating here based on the panels and a bunch of Twitter and Tumblr posts that I have been reading over the last few days. If you are not in a good place to read such things, TURN BACK PLEASE. Go take care of yourself and your mental health. You and your feelings are valid and deserve to be handled gently right now.

Additionally, if you are here to give me shit for being unhappy with the ending, please walk away as well. I am here to reach out and share my feelings with people who might be struggling to make sense of something that upset some of us in very deep-seated ways. I am not here to bother you or critique you or tell you that you’re lesser because you liked the ending. If you felt it was good, then go enjoy it.

Long-ass post beneath the cut, everyone.

Alrighty folks...I debated whether or not to do this because I have been spiraling down the hell that is the SPN finale since Thursday. The travesty of what happened to our show--to this beloved show that seemed to have been so perfectly and precisely written for at least four years that it had basically already paved its own tarmac on which to land its plane and we all thought we knew exactly what we were going to get. And then we didn’t. We had a nigh Cas-less and entirely Eileen-less ending. We had no goodbye between Cas and Jack. We had Dean dying young after finally finding his freedom, only to ascend to heaven with no one but Bobby. We had the weird, weird, weird incest-y death scene. We had the bridge crane shot thing because...sure. You do you, Robert Singer.

It was so terrible, so truly awful, and I couldn’t seem to square any of it with anything we had known going in. I tossed and turned and cried and didn’t eat or sleep all weekend. I spent hours just reloading tumblr and twitter, going to the Misha panel, reading and reading and listening and trying to figure out what the fucking hell is going on because I needed to know exactly where to direct my anger. And after a fuckton of talking with @winchester-reload, I think we have at least a very plausible theory about what happened here--I’m laying it out below as much for my own peace of mind as anything else, because otherwise all of these thoughts are going to continue to spin around in my head for weeks and I won’t be able to do jack shit.

Now to start off, unfortunately I do think Dean was slated to die from the beginning of this season. I don’t know WHY they thought that was the best way to go, and I wish they had listened to Jensen on this one. Part of me wonders if it was an order from on high based on the discussion between Becky and Chuck earlier this season--the writers knew it wasn’t a great choice, but they were trying to signal to us that we should feel free to write our own endings to the story because they’d be better (I can wax poetic on the signs of why many of the writers probably wanted Dean to live, but that’s another post). I’m not defending that choice by any means, just laying it out there that I think they didn’t necessarily all want to kill Dean like they did.

However, what I THINK I can explain now is what happened with Misha and why we got so jerked around with Cas’s story. Consider what we know (I can’t immediately source all of it, but I did my best):

At the end of episode 15x19, Lucifer has been returned to the Empty after being killed AGAIN. He talks with Cas. Maybe harasses him a bit about Dean, idk. But then...Jack shows up. New God Jack. And he picks up Cas and pulls him out of the Empty, leaving Lucifer behind, because seriously. Fuck that guy (also leaving behind his abusive father is character growth for Jack, so yay for that).

-Misha was contracted to film 15 episodes this season. He was only in 14.

-Misha told Michael Sheen he had to go back to film 1.5 episodes after the shutdown in March. (Starts at 6:13)

-Misha was in Vancouver during filming of the finale.

-Mark P said at Darklight Con that the last scene he filmed was with Alex and Misha (and Mark P was only in episode 19).

-Misha implied that he was present for various filming moments, including Dean’s death (start at 35:15), and said that it felt like a “mini-reunion.”

-Various sources have mentioned that Jimmy Novak was supposed to be in the finale.

-After episode 18, Stands tweeted a fan who was angered and hurt by Cas's death that they could talk about the “bury the gays” issue after the finale aired.

-In episode 19 we know there were takes of the parking lot scene where the only thing fans observing could hear was Dean yelling “CAS” at Chuck (fuck I can’t find this one right now, but it’s definitely out there)

-Also in episode 19, we had a very strange, awkward montage at the end of the episode.

-In episode 20, we know there were a FUCKTON of missing scenes

-We also had no opening montage, but three other separate montages.

-Carry on My Wayward Son was played TWICE, back-to-back at the end of the episode.

-Episode 20 was shorter than normal and had surprisingly little dialogue. The pacing was VERY strange.

-The cast and crew has been almost completely silent about the finale since it came out. When they have spoken, it has been with an awkward excuse of “Uh...COVID?”

-Samantha Ferris has specifically noted that, despite the Harvelle’s being back in play and a big heaven reunion having been planned pre-COVID, neither she nor Chad Lindberg received any such invitation to return.

-Cas and Dean POP Funko figures were pictured together in a replica of Harvelle’s in 15x04.

NOW with all of this in mind (and I’m probably missing some stuff too because there is so much--feel free to add on to that list), please bear with me because here is what I think we were SUPPOSED to get POST-COVID (after it was determined that the reunion couldn’t happen because of the virus):

In episode 20, we start with our NORMAL OPENING MONTAGE, like always. It traces everything that happened during the season. We are reminded of Cas. The confession. Rowena. Eileen. Jack. Billie, God, the Empty, all of it.

Things then follow along in the episode where they did up until Dean dies and wakes up in heaven. After his conversation with Bobby, he drives off to find Cas (who, in the script, was listed as “Jimmy Novak” in order to protect against script leaks--who wouldn’t want to do their best to avoid spoilers about the finale with the wrapping of a fifteen-year show?). He does indeed find Cas. We get Dean’s end of the confession. Hell, maybe we even get a kiss. And then Dean sets up his new heaven home in the recreated Harvelle’s. Maybe Cas even fucking moves in.

Years pass. We get Sam having his life on Earth (still can’t explain why they cut Eileen and couldn’t even have Sam signing vaguely to the blurry brunette in the background; if anyone wants to take that on, go for it). Eventually, Cas tells Dean that it’s almost Sam’s time. Dean takes Baby and goes to meet Sam at the bridge. The cover of Carry on My Wayward Son plays during this much shorter sequence. End of episode.

But that’s not what we got. Instead, much of what I just wrote about was excised from the episode. The remnants were stitched together after shooting had been wrapped. Filler was added in the form of montages and long, unnecessary extra shots to get the episode to something approaching a reasonable length.

But why? Why would they spend all that time and money and quarantining on Misha, only to almost completely cut him out of the finale? I struggled with why the fuck the CW would want this mammoth show to go down as the greatest queerbait in TV history when they had the chance to do something truly beautiful and monumental with it? It couldn’t just be sheer homophobia, right? Well, I think that factored into it, my friends, but here is where my head is at right now.

It was about cold, hard cash.

Now I could be wrong, but this is what I’m thinking at the moment: Supernatural is going off of the air. Supernatural, the CW’s cash cow for fifteen years. Sure there is still money to be made on blu-rays and merchandise and cons...but they need people watching their shows. They need that sweet advertising revenue. And you know what show they have about to premiere? A show that could, potentially, bring with it a chunk of that SPN revenue?

Walker.

And if any of you know anything about the original Walker Texas Ranger, you know that the show was predominantly a show about a very heterosexual white man being very excessively heterosexual. And for SOME REASON over the years, many of the execs at the CW still seem to think that this show, Supernatural, is really attractive to a lot of middle-American white men...whom they desperately want to watch this new show with this guy from Supernatural that they already know.

Now here’s where COVID fucked us. I think Destiel was greenlit by TPTB, at least in SOME form, before COVID. But then the pandemic happened, and they panicked. They got the cut of the last two episodes and watched them in their original, probably queer form. And then, the execs at CW looked at the economy. They looked at their cash cow, about to make its journey to the great beyond. And they looked at this new little calf Walker that they were so desperately worried about. And they made a choice.

They decided that it would be too risky to take the step with Destiel. They were worried about frightening off their ever-so-valuable hetero male demographic with the possibility that a traditionally masculine man in his 40s could be in love with another man in an overt way. It was homophobia mixed with greed, spun up by fear for their revenues because of COVID.

So they called in Singer, possibly Dabb, although I wouldn’t be surprised if they went straight to Singer. They told them that Destiel had to go: executive orders. And the only way to make it go in a way that removed any trace of what had been there was to rewrite what happened to Cas and cut him out from the last two episodes entirely. It was too late to reshoot anything. They had to just cut and stitch and fill with bullshit montages.

They removed the scene at the end of 19, probably because Cas and Lucifer discussed Dean. All that was left of Misha there was his voice on that fake phone call. They may have cut other things too, but I would bet my life that they cut a scene from the end of the episode and replaced it with that very strange montage. Then they moved onto 20. They cut out every scene with Cas. And left in only two platonic mentions of him, neither made by Dean. They tried to imply that Cas might show up in Dean’s heaven at some point, but that was as far as the editors could go in the time they had. They filled in with montages, awkwardly long shots, anything they could do to fill all of those missing scenes.

And they even had to take the opening montage, because literally everything in it pointed to Cas being there at the end of it all. They wouldn’t be able to leave out his scenes, they were too critical to the season. They couldn’t cut his confession without raising eyebrows. So they cut the whole thing and moved “Carry On My Wayward Son” to one of the newly-added driving montages at the end. Which is why we awkwardly had both songs play back-to-back--again, such a strange choice unless they were out of options and couldn’t exactly buy rights to a new track or compose anything else.

And so we were left with the shadow of the finale that we deserved, that Cas and Dean deserved. We were left without resolution or happiness or words. Bobo told us the most important thing about happiness is just “saying it” and our characters were silenced without anyone ever knowing the truth.

I think the writers might have known and been given the new party line that “Misha never filmed, he couldn’t, sorry, it was COVID, no one’s fault!” But I don’t think most of the cast even knew it had happened until they watched the finale on Thursday with us (though they might have been confused why the bit from 15x19 was sliced, they could reasonably have assumed it was a time thing and also BL episodes don’t make sense anyway). Why do I say that?

Well, first of all, Misha started sending out a bunch of excited texts to fans with some old BTS pictures about an hour before the show started airing on EST. He also wanted his children to see the episode, his YOUNG children. Why would he show them such a traumatic episode if their Dad wasn’t in it? What if it was because he wanted them to witness what was going to be a monumental moment in queer television history that their DAD got to be a part of? And then that was all dashed.

Which is why I think the cast and crew went almost completely radio silent the next day. I don’t think they knew. And based on how they have been acting on social media since then, I think many of them are absolutely furious, but they have been silenced because of NDAs, because they want to find work again in a cutthroat industry, because they don’t want to bring down the hellfire of Warner Brothers Entertainment upon themselves. So the most we have gotten is a little acknowledgement from the MERCHANDISING COMPANY trying to validate our pain (god bless Shirts, she is a LIFESAVER) and a response to my salty tweet about keeping good stuff in the closet from Adam Williams (the VFX coordinator) that seemed to acknowledge the validity of my complaint.

Then there was a scramble behind the scenes, I would bet my life. Talking points were fed to the boys who had panels today, to CE, to all the cast and crew:

Toe the party line. Misha never filmed. This was always about COVID. Do not mention Destiel. Do not mention Dean’s feelings for Cas. Do not promote the Castiel Project or anything that validates the idea that this was anything less than a superb ending.

And that is why we have heard so little from the cast on this front, and what we have heard has been muddled and contradictory. That is why the writers are saying nothing. That is why we have been left adrift.

Now before I close this out, I do want to say that I really, genuinely do not think this was on the writers at all. I feel like they tried to give us the best ending that they could, in a writers room that we know is notorious for splitting along party lines about the overall story (BL and Singer, who have always been about the brothers and their man-pain vs. Dabb and the rest who always seemed to want more for them and for Cas). I think they did everything in their power to at least end with Dean and Cas happy together. If they could give us nothing else, they wanted to give us that. And then the network took it from them. From us. From everyone.

For the sake of fucking money.

And the WORST PART OF IT ALL, for me, is that in the wake of this disaster, the fans have been left to try and figure out what happened. We have had to wade through a mire of conflicting information in the midst of all of our collective anger and grief over this garbage ending of a show many of us have loved and even relied on for YEARS, all the while wondering if we’re just fucking crazy, if we have all fallen collectively into the hole of conspiracy theories. That hurts ESPECIALLY badly because we have taken so many hits over the years from other groups on social media saying we were crazy for seeing things that weren’t there (especially Destiel), for writing meta and analyzing tropes and believing the evidence of our eyes and ears. The network has made us relive that entire nightmare WHILE processing our grief for a show we wanted so badly to celebrate and which instead we now have to mourn.

So again guys, I cannot prove that this is exactly what happened at all; this is simply my idea of what may have happened. But right now, it’s the most sense I can make from this mess, and to be honest, the act of typing it out has helped me enormously in my processing of it all. I feel like I can see more clearly, like I know where to target my outrage and where to direct empathy. I feel like just fucking maybe, I might be able to do my job tomorrow without bursting into tears at random moments.

I really hope that this post has helped some of you to, in some small way, process this too. We get through this the way that Misha told us at his panel this morning, the way the writers have told us to do all season long...we throw out the story God gave us and we make it better. We write our characters the happy endings they deserve.

We save them.

One last thing--if you have not already, please consider channeling your rage into a donation to one of the five causes our fandom has put together to pay tribute to our beloved show and to mourn the ending it should have had:

-The Castiel Project

-Dean Winchester is Love

-Sam Winchester Project

-The National Association of the Deaf

-The Jack Kline Project

#supernatural season 15 #spn finale #speculation #destiel #destielgate #the ending was not the ending #fuck the cw #trust the story #we were robbed

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blackkatmagic · 3 years

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It's just turned monday here and I know I'll forget about it in the morning so... For some reasons (insert furious handwaving) Maul was married off to Jaster to cement an alliance with the Mandalorians. Maul is pissed off but can't afford to be sent back so he's just. Silent and glowering. This is torture for Jaster, who has SO MANY QUESTIONS about the force and can't get a word out of Maul. Jaster learns to echolocate facts about the force by confidently saying things and measuring how wrong they are by how much Maul grinds his teeth. (Maybe he'll hit upon the thing that will make his new husband finally open his mouth and correct him)

Maul is going to make himself a widower in short order.

Murderous, faintly sleep-deprived, entirely fed up with absolutely everything, Maul slouches in his chair, one foot braced on the seat, and glares across the table at his new husband, contemplating whether he can refine his technique enough to actually murder someone with his eyes. Even if he can't, the excess of gold he’s wearing has to be good for something. Jaster won't be able to spout his stupid theories if he’s choking on five kilograms of jewelry.

“Don’t be silly, Arla,” Jaster says, in that particular confident tone that truly drives Maul to the edge of homicide. “Force-users have a long history of translocating themselves across vast distances.” There's a pause, and Maul ignores the dark eyes on him, watchful and amused, and instead contemplates how hard he’d have to throw the delicate curls of gold currently wound around his horns for them to kill a man.

Then, with the conviction of a man who’s never been mauled by a Zabrak for his sheer idiocy, Jaster says, “And besides, everyone knows of their ability to change their shape on a molecular level.”

A vein in Maul's temple probably throbs. He definitelygrinds his teeth, trying desperately to remember that Savage and Feral are both currently under Mother Talzin’s thumb, both sold into their own marriages to bring her power as she plays all sides. Serving the Sith Lord before his untimely demise wasn’t precisely better, but—

At least the safety of his brothers didn’t rest on Maul's ability to tolerate sheer stupidity.

Jaster doesn’t show any signs of recognizing that his lack of intelligence is causing Maul physical pain. He simply sinks back in his chair, swirling his wine in his glass, and smiles at Maul like he’s won something. “No shapeshifting, then?” he asks, amused.

Maul narrows his eyes, tips his head back to look down his nose at Jaster. Thinks, determinedly and a little bit mulishly, of Feral married to the clone army’s Marshal Commander, of Savage wed to a Jedi and forced to play husband to the new Master of the Order. Kit Fisto isn't Obi-Wan Kenobi, but Maul has no faith in a Jedi’s willingness to guard his younger brothers from Talzin. Clearly it falls to Maul to uphold this bargain, at least well enough to establish a safe place for Savage and Feral to flee to when they’re inevitably betrayed.

“Still no words for me, husband?” Jaster asks, still smiling. Maul might think him attractive if he weren’t so frustrating. “You were willing to exchange words at the wedding, but I've rarely been blessed with your opinions since.”

“Jaster,” Arla says, rolling her eyes from further down the table. Deliberately, like she’s making a point, she reaches out, tips more wine out of the pitcher and into her cup, and then downs it. “Please. Some of us are trying to eat here.”

“I'm hardly stopping you,” Jaster protests, entirely innocent. Maul twists one of the rings on his fingers and contemplates how much force he’d need to embed it in the wall above Jaster's head, as a warning. “I was just saying, Maul can finally confirm what I've known for years, which is that as the Force is the manifestation of a vast creature of entropy—”

Maul is going to break a tooth, he’s grinding them so hard. He digs his fingers into the arm of his chair, the black cloth of his formal wear, and fixes the image of Feral in that last moment before parting in his mind. Feral, thin and weak from punishment at the Nightsisters’ hands, being tradedto Commander Cody, passed into the ranks of the vast army made with stolen DNA and set against the Republic. Feral will suffer if Maul breaks this alliance. Talzin made that very clear, and Maul has little enough family as it is. He isn't about to lose his brothers. Not for this.

Jango, slumped down on Arla's other side and looking as though he greatly regrets agreeing to this dinner, groans and buries his face in his hands. “Old man, if you can't even flirt normally—”

“It’s not flirting, it’s science,” Jaster says. “I have a theory. Maul, would you care to help me prove it right?”

Since Maul would much rather attempt to drown Jaster in his soup, he bites his tongue and glares.

Jaster beams. “The Force,” he says, and Maul braces for impact, “is the expression of a vast hive mind beyond the known galaxy—”

It’s worse than Maul thought. He’s going to physically implode if he has to listen to this for one second longer—

“The Force,” Jaster says again, still watching Maul, “is an energy field created by living things.”

Not quite correct, but certainly more so than hive minds, and Maul only rolls his eyes a little. “If you're quite done,” he says darkly, because he knows what Jaster is doing, but that doesn’t exactly make it easier to bear.

Jaster chuckles, leaning across the table to pour Maul more wine. “For now,” he promises. “Though if you're open to a debate on the origins of the Jedi as a cohesive order—ow!”

One of the small, bright red fruits pegs Jaster squarely in the side of the head and bounces off. Not, surprisingly, thrown by Maul, and he blinks, casting a look sideways down the table, to where Jaster's majordomo is veryinterested in the last few spoonfuls of liquid remaining in his bowl. There is, notably, a bowl of the fruits right in front of him.

“Treachery,” Jaster complains, straightening with an offended expression. “Jango—”

“If it had been me, I would have thrown my whole plate at you,” Jango says, raising his hands. “Blame Arla.”

“If it had been me, it would have been a knife,” Arla says, clearly already a little tipsy, and single-mindedly trying to get herself right to drunk.

Well. Maul can appreciate the assistance of an ally, when the circumstances are right. He opens his mouth to take credit—

“Did you know,” Jaster says, perfectly certain, “that each lightsaber’s color represents the phase of the moon under which it was mined, and the resonance of them—”

Maul is going to murder him, delicate political alliances be damned. Feral will understand. With a low growl, he shoves himself up, lunges across the table, and grabs Jaster by the collar of his shirt, hauling them in until they're eye to eye.

“You,” he bites out, “are the most imbecilic manI have ever had the vast misfortune to meet. That is not how lightsabers work.”

“Oh?” Jaster asks with interest, leaning in even as Maul's eyes narrow. He smirks, his hand curling over Maul's, lacing their fingers, and then he deliberately, like a dare, raises Maul's hand to his lips. “Tell me more?”

Maul picks up his soup bowl and coolly upends it over his head. Truly, such a request deserves no other possible response.

[On AO3]

#my writing #PBP I HATE THAT YOU MADE ME SHIP THIS SO HARD #jastermaul #jaster mereel #darth maul

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touyasdoll · 3 years

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Complicated - Chapter One

Pairing: Dabi x reader/Touya x reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none this chapter

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“Hey, are you okay?”

You directed your concerned gaze over the figure of the raven-haired teen before you.

He was sitting on a bench, his left hand holding a bandage to his right forearm as a mixture of blood and other viscera eagerly soaked the fibers. Bright blue eyes met yours for a moment that was ever-so-fleeting.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

The words left his lips almost too quickly, hushed and dismissive as those blue orbs fell to stare at the cement beneath his feet.

“You don’t look fine. That looks pretty bad. Listen, you don’t need to tell me what happened, but please let me at least try to help you? I’m not so bad with first aid.”

Sliding your backpack off your shoulder, you set it down in your lap as you took a seat on the bench and began fishing around. Sparing another glance toward you, the young man opened his mouth to protest as he saw you retrieve what you were searching for, a travel-sized first aid kit.

“Don’t bo—“

Ignoring his persistently dismissive attitude, you reached your hand out toward him and flashed your most disarming smile.

“Please. Burns are highly susceptible to infection and I promise you that as rough as that feels, a bacterial infection on top of it will only feel that much worse.”

His eyes flashed up to meet yours before dropping back down to look at your outstretched hand. The expression on his face made it seem like he was mulling over what might be worse, continuing this interaction or risking the chance of infection.

“I promise that I’ll be gentle.”

Leaning forward, your smile turned more shy as you tried to catch his gaze once again.

The quiet chuckle you got in response seemed to break the tension. Those arctic blue irises connected with yours once more and this time, they were locked on tight. His stare was so intense, that you nearly missed the faint smirk tugging at one side of his face before it bloomed into a charming grin.

“Gentle isn’t usually my style, but I bet you could sell me on it, doll.”

A blush crept up your neck and across your cheeks as your sudden sense of embarrassment willed you to turn your attention back to his injury. Clearing your throat, you did your best to keep your cheeks from flushing an even deeper shade of crimson as you unfolded a square of cotton from the kit in you lap.

“Not your style, hmm? Well, could that explain what you've got going on here?"

Offering your hand out, you found the nerve to meet his eyes again as he let his arm rest in your palm.

"You could say so."

He sucked in a small amount of air as you carefully dabbed at the wound, making a soft hissing noise.

"Sorry, this is still going to sting quite a bit, but I'll be as careful as I can."

Setting aside the now bloodied square of cotton, you grabbed a fresh one and began dousing it with antiseptic.

"Do you often stop and perform first aid on perfect strangers?"

You could feel his eyes settle on the side of your face as you set the liquid aside and shook some of the excess from the material.

"I have to say, you're actually my first."

Looking up through your lashes, you returned his smile and couldn't help but notice how his eyes briefly ran over your entire frame. You took the opportunity to return the favor, casting your gaze over his torso, seeing a toned chest beneath the low-cut t-shirt he sported.

"That the first time you've said those words, sweetheart?"

As if noticing his impressive form wasn't enough to make you blush, his suggestive words and the playful smirk that accompanied them certainly did the trick.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

The corners of your lips mirrored his expression and you bit your lip in an effort not to redden your own cheeks once again. He chuckled in response as you moved to dab at his forearm with the antiseptic.

"Hold still, Romeo."

As gently as you could manage, you alternated the between the cotton pad soaked with the solution and a dry, clean one.

"Yes, ma'am."

The handsome young man let out of a quiet chuckle until the liquid touched his body and a hiss left his lips once more, but quickly subsided as you noticed the rest of him tense against the sting, his left hand curling into a fist.

You worked quickly, but made sure the wound was thoroughly cleaned before you began to wrap it with a spool of bandages.

"The worst is over."

Offering a comforting smile, you took his hand into your own and gave it a delicate squeeze. His attention snapped toward the connection of your palms and you could feel a strange heat emanating between them. Searching his eyes, you could tell he seemed almost . . nervous? It was nice to know you might not be the only one.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do any of this, y'know."

His words shook you from your thoughts and his eyes now shone with the same confidence you had seen there before.

"Oh, don't mention it. I'd say anyone would do the same, but I can't believe no one else did before I walked by. You'd think in such a big city full of heroes or those would kill to be one, people would be a little more helpful to others."

"Well, not everyone has the best intentions. But you seem to have realized that already, haven’t you, doll?”

Nodding your head in agreement, you reluctantly let go of his hand and taped down the bandages that now encased his forearm.

"Unfortunately, I have. But, thankfully, there's still plenty of people out there with good intentions. I like to try and look on the bright side."

You flashed him a smile as you started packing the contents of the first aid kit back up.

"You seem like the type who's good at finding it. That's not exactly part of the skill set that I was born with."

Flexing his hand, he winced a little, but seemed to approve of your handiwork as he inspected the dressings on his arm.

"Well, it's never too late to learn, y'know."

Stuffing the kit back into your already bulging backpack, you zipped it close and straightened out the skirt of your school uniform before looping your arm through one of the straps of your bag, readying yourself to stand.

His hand rested on the space between you on the bench as he angled his torso to face you, sitting up properly and tilting his head down to catch your eyes once you looked up at him.

"You as good a teacher as you are a nurse?"

A giggle escaped your lips as you turned your head in the opposite direction, smiling to yourself as you tried to steel your fluttering nerves. Turning your attention back to his impossibly blue eyes, you dug up every last ounce of confidence you could muster and decided to keep playing along.

"You as good a learner as you are a flirt?"

He half-cocked an eyebrow, the expression on his lips hovering in the perfect sweet spot between a genuine smile and a devious smirk.

"Oh, not at all, sweetheart. I'm a terrible learner, you'd probably have to spend some extra time on me."

Shifting forward, he leaned toward you just enough that you were able to catch the scent of his cologne as the breeze picked up behind him. He smelled as heavenly as he looked and this was already more romance than you had ever encountered in your lifetime, if you could call it that. The combination of events was absolutely intoxicating.

Suddenly, you were searching for ways to draw this interaction out, because you never wanted it to end. Fully throwing caution to the wind, you followed his lead and leaned in closer, shifting your weight to your hand as you leaned back on the bench and tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck as you tossed your hair over your opposite shoulder.

"Well, I suppose I could think of worse ways to spend my time."

You could feel the blush on your face deepen as he watched your movements, his expression never-changing.

"Mind if I ask your name, sweetheart?"

You watched his eyes fixate on your lips for just a moment before locking with yours once more.

"Y/n. Mind if I ask yours?"

He shrugged, leaning back and flashing a boyish grin as he extended a hand toward you.

"Fair is fair. The name's Touya. It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/n."

Sitting up straight, you took his hand and shook it, feeling that same strange heat coming from his palms.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Touya."

You couldn't help but to be a little disappointed when your hands retracted, but he seemed to perk up as he pulled out a phone from his back pocket and handed it over to you.

"You got a number? Maybe we can run into each other again, but on purpose this time."

His wink nearly melted your heart on the spot and you knew that by now, you had to have looked like an empty-headed school girl with such an adoring grin plastered to your face. The confidence and charm that he exuded seemed so effortless and only added to his already attractive physical features.

"Do you mean . . like a date?"

Your laugh was soft and shy as you punched your number into his phone, making absolutely sure that it was correct.

"If that's what you wanna call it, princess. Who am I to correct you? After all, you practically saved my life today."

Retrieving his phone from your grasp, he brushed the back of your hand with his as he stood, and you could tell he was watching your reaction once you heard that deep, melodious chuckle as your hand froze for a moment.

"I'll give you a call, okay?"

Returning his phone to his back pocket, he rested his hands in the front and began walking backwards.

"Okay."

You smiled back, blushing unabashedly now as you watched him grin until he turned back around and headed off in the direction you came from, feeling your heart flutter yet again when he threw a glance back over his shoulder at you before he turned a corner.

#dabi imagine #dabi #dabi fluff #dabi x reader #dabi todoroki #dabi touya #mha spoilers #dabi my hero academia #touya todoroki #my hero academia #mha imagines #mha x reader #touya x reader #touya imagine #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha dabi #bnha spoilers #bnha imagines

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sadviper · 3 years

Text

Confessions of a Seducer: Woo Do Hwan Interview with Hong Kong Esquire, July 2018

The time is 9:21 PM. Like any other city, New York is vibrant and teeming with activity after dark. Lights glisten throughout Manhattan. This reporter, Patrick Soon, has an appointment to interview Woo Do Hwan at this time. It feels right to interview him late at night. This year, Woo Do Hwan is still only 25 years old. His drama, “The Great Seducer” is the reason for his recent rise in popularity. In it, he acts as a 2nd generation chaebol who deliberately gets close to an honors student named Eun Tae-hee with the intention to get revenge for his friend. However, he unconsciously becomes attracted to her without realizing it.

Seduction is the theme of this drama series. Woo Do Hwan is its living embodiment.

The night is dark. He arrives on set where the photoshoot is taking place, enveloped with a mysterious aura. The amazing seductive power that he exhibited in the drama is present here, demonstrated to all as he appears in the midst of “Quiet Nights”, a soft jazz melody that permeates the air.

He has a quality that is different from others

We never deviate from the topic of seduction for the purpose of the interview. In Korea, there was a strong reaction to the drama series after it aired. Typically in Korean dramas, the male lead is either entirely warm and loving, or the type of guy who is very strong but is still full of love and righteousness. The type of role that Woo Do Hwan plays in “The Great Seducer” is rare: he’s edgy, defiant, a little bit dangerous, wrapped in an aura that might very well kill you.

This series focuses on the classic kdrama subject matter of upper class angst. Within this structure, he sets new goalposts that redefine the image of a male lead actor--simultaneously cool and fragile, conflicted and gentle.

Following the broadcast of the drama, the positive feedback went far beyond Woo Do Hwan’s expectations. I paid him high compliments, telling him he was the breakout male lead character of the new generation, that this series placed him into the public consciousness of Hong Kong audiences. His expression clearly showed his astonishment.

WDH: “You said that I became an Adonis through this drama. I’m pretty embarrassed--I don’t really know how to respond. Maybe I should just accept your compliments and thank you.”

He humbly smiled and laughed after he said those words. It was like being with two different people; the feeling of someone fresh out of school versus a man with dark powers of attraction.

The drama is full of seduction, danger, and excitement, so I asked Woo Do Hwan if he ever encountered any kind of temptations in his own life. He took the question seriously, and fell deep in thought. Then he replied with a hint of embarrassment, “I have to give it some thought, if you want me to tell you what are the most difficult things to resist. That’s because at different points in your life, different things will tempt you. Lately, the greatest temptation for me is sleep. I was very tired during filming and kept wanting to just pass out. I have to sleep; so more than once, I would skip meals and go straight to bed. I want to perform well, so I try to grab every chance I can get to sleep. That way, I can stay focused and not wander off while filming.”

He likes women who are straight-shooters

In “The Great Seducer”, Woo Do Hwan plays a chaebol heir who at first treats love like a game. But once he starts dating Tae-hee, without realizing it, he becomes deeply attracted to her, only to discover after the fact that he has fallen in love. Not just love; through her, he rediscovers meaning in life.

WDH: “I feel that the character I play is very similar to who I am as a person. When I find my true love, I will give my all for the other’s sake, just like him. I can walk through fire and do anything for her. The most important thing is giving her happiness.”

There is an unspoken rule that women do not like men who are perfect, pure, goody-two-shoes. Woo Do Hwan’s role in the drama, with his aura of mystery and soul-slaying power to captivate, confirms that unspoken rule that men can’t just be normal if they want to appeal to women.

Woo Do Hwan couldn’t help but laugh when I shared my thoughts.

WDH: “Sometimes I wonder whether I’d be attracted to someone mysterious or to someone happy, upbeat, and straight-forward. Personally, if a woman can talk to me about anything and everything under the sun, then I will find her attractive. That’s because heart-to-heart communication is important to me. If she is too mysterious, then I won’t know what to do. She’d give me the feeling of being hard to get close to. So if I were to date, I would definitely choose someone who makes me feel relaxed and comfortable. Any important relationship should have no reservations, pressure, or secrets. There should be no need to hide anything. That’s what I believe.”

Noona romances

Woo Do Hwan’s focus and involvement with only one person is a testimony to how seriously he treats romantic relationships. I listed five qualities that could be used as a new definition for masculinity: Seriousness; the ability to mesmerize; manliness; mystery; and lastly, being easy-going or easy to get close to.

Many kdramas have been using noona romances for their thematic material. As the trend increased in popularity, it caused an upswell in discussions in Korea, opening up a new possibility of redefining masculinity.

WDH: “I also recently found out that noona romances are very popular in both dramas and movies. It’s an interesting phenomena. I don’t think love has anything to do with age. As I previously said, the most important things in any kind of relationship are honesty, communication, and trust. If each party thinks of the other as The One, then age shouldn’t be a factor.”

The father as the role model for your life

Woo Do Hwan’s career is only just starting to rise. He spoke frankly that he didn’t have time for romance at this stage of his life.

There is a movie called “The Divine Fury” that he is about to film. He was cast to play a completely different role from “The Great Seducer”, and will go head-to-head in direct confrontation against Park Seo-joon. In this movie, he plays a Machiavellian character who manipulates and betrays others without hesitation.

WDH: “I’m looking forward to acting this role. I’m so grateful to my family who helped and encouraged me after I entered this career field. My father is the person I admire the most, and my family are the most important people in my life. Since I was young, I already respected my father. Now that I’m an adult, I keep reminding myself to learn from him, and hope that I will become somebody like him.”

The interview is drawing to a close. I said, “You’re absolutely a rising star.” He immediately responded with a humble smile, “If you want to talk about what’s fashionable, let’s talk about local hotspots. If I don’t need to work, I’d ask my friend to join me at the Nanji Hangang Park (a resort area for picnicking and camping near the Han River?). I feel very relaxed in those kinds of places. After camping, then along the way, I’ll visit rooftop bars and cafes in the ___ area (in Cantonese, sounds like “Lee Tai Yuen”). I like to enjoy my coffee or handcrafted beer, and just relax and talk until nightfall. That’s the kind of life that I like.”

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

Notes: Not my translation, I just bothered someone to give me the rough idea, and I cleaned up the aftermath, chortling over the endless amounts of “amazing seductive power” that Woo Do Hwan was overwhelming this Patrick Soon guy with. Apparently the interviewer was being excessively roundabout in his writing, so I just...made stuff up since I couldn’t verify accuracy, ahaha. I’m irked that this article isn’t on the HK Esquire website, so this is for internet posterity I guess?

Finally, I seriously hope WDH got paid beaucoup bucks for sitting on dumpster lids and bare doorsteps in NYC, my god. ;__;

#woo do hwan #Chinese translation #Chinese interview #Hong Kong Esquire #The Great Seducer #Tempted #The Divine Fury #touching NYC grunge with bare hands and expensive duds #brave man #it said Manhattan #it feels like Brooklyn #interview

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stutterfly · 4 years

Text

Swipe Right 02 | Crosstalk | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst [later on], humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 10.2K

Last time on SR01: Namjoon introduced you to his friends and you find yourself absorbed into their little group rather quickly. While on your way to a Halloween party hosted at Jimin’s beautiful condo, you admit to your best friend Jennie that you have a crush on the sweet, shy, nerdy Jungkook. This just happens to be the same night he reveals his true nature: fuckboy. Now that’s just embarrassing, isn’t it?

Tags: Fuckboy Jungkook, let’s play some drinking games, dirty jokes, innuendos, friendship feels, jealousy, flashing, sexual tension, dumbBitch reader is drinking her dumbBitchjuice tonight, Tae makes things weird for half a sec, hint of foot fetish?, flirting with Hobi, flirting with Jin, embarrassedJoon who is also a mediator part time, tsundere softYoongi, Jimin is a traitorous snake who lives for the drama, Jungkook is like the kid pulling the pigtails of the girl he likes, tiniest glimpse at softboyeJK underneath

CW: excessive drinking, filthy language

Series: Activate your SIMCard Fic: Swipe Right (2/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost. masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It's been months since the fiasco with Jungkook. You do your best to avoid any opportunity to hang with the group in a stationary setting when he’s present, but he’s kind of an unavoidable obstacle at this point. Pissed doesn’t begin to cover your feelings towards him and hurt doesn’t quite do it either. You’re angry about the things he did, the things he said, the way he covered up his true self, but most of all, you’re furious that your feelings didn’t just evaporate with the shift in his persona.

You thought time would heal everything, but so far it’s only turned you bitter about the whole thing. He still smells so fucking good. He’s still got a body like the weightlifting champ he is. He’s still dorky and funny in ways you wouldn’t expect a tool of his calibre to demonstrate. But he’s also a player and a crass asshole. A crasshole. Has he ever stayed with the same girl for more than a few days? You’d wager a confident sum of money that he never has.

Even though you hate his guts, your brain still finds ways to remind you that even if he’s a dick, he’s a dick you’re still attracted to. He’s the kind of dick you suck one night after getting drunk on cheap beer, and in the light of day you are disgusted with everything about it. So don’t get drunk and don’t suck that dick. Easy peasy, especially since fury overtakes you any time you look at him.

Pissed at him? That doesn’t cover it. Pissed at yourself? That’s closer, but it's still not quite all-encompassing. It’s some sort of culmination between the two that has you absolutely livid with the entire situation any time you think about it. He made you feel like a fool. You genuinely liked the person you thought he was, and he embarrassed you. That made not talking to him the way you did when you thought he had the emotional capacity of an actual decent human being hurt even more. At least you know now that he’s got more in common with a lifeless, unfeeling rock.

Not that he hasn’t tried to get you to talk to him. He has, texting you jokes, sending articles on upcoming game titles, spamming invites to a party on xbox live any time you log on, making a point to stand next to you, interrupting all of your conversations with an obnoxious “Hi, Princess!” and pestering you until you acknowledge him. Thankfully Namjoon has kept him from sitting next to you when you carpool, whether it be for dancing, dinner, karaoke, or any other external hangouts. Nevertheless, he still finds a way to annoy you despite the barriers in his path, and you are ready to claw his eyes out at a moment’s notice.

To keep your mind off how your last crush, well, crushed you and continues to let you down, you’ve been downloading and trying out a few different dating apps. You figure it’s time to find someone to connect with, and this is definitely how people do it these days, but your experience has been less than stellar. Jennie helped you set up your profiles and mentioned it in passing to Namjoon, mistakenly believing you told your other bestie about it. He's been teasing you about it every week since, but has been sworn to silence around the others under fear of you telling everyone about the time you caught him making out with a couch pillow.

He doesn't crash on your couch anymore.

Ever since Hoseok and Yoongi moved into the apartment down the hall, he's spent more evenings on their comfy sectional than you can count, but always after binging Kung Fu movies and bringing gratuitous amounts of takeout over your place. You’re grateful for the solitude so you can attempt to converse with strangers via text — maybe even flirt a little. Most of your conversations have become stagnant, but there’s been one guy texting you back and forth for a month now. You’re waiting on him to ask you out since you’re too much of a chickenshit to make the first move.

Now, as you walk down the hall with Namjoon, he elbows your ribs. “So... how’s your Jay-Jay?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Jason is fine.”

“He text you this week?” he asks, stopping in front of the apartment door.

Kind of.

“Mm-hmm!” Your reply is overly enthusiastic and it makes him suspicious.

“Did you text him first?” he questions, pausing before his knuckles touch the door.

Yes. But only because I saw a meme I could use as an excuse to talk to him.

“No.” The tone is questionable so you shake your head violently, scoffing. “I told him I wanted to meet in person.”

“Good. Good. Either he responds or he doesn’t,” he surmises, as if what he said isn’t the most obvious thing in the world. He snakes his hand around the back of your neck, massaging his fingers in circles over muscles you didn’t realize you’d tensed up. “And either way, I’m 100% certain you’re way too good for him. So don’t worry about it so much, okay?”

He snickers when you cast your gaze at the floor with a shy smile. “Joonie… That’s really sweet of you to say. I... Thank you.”

He shrugs off the gratitude with a smirk, trying to not let it get to his head. It’s true and you need to hear it. He clears his throat and knocks, nervously glancing over at you with his other hand still working small circles into the back of your neck. You’ll figure out soon enough that he’s also buttering you up since Jungkook is definitely home tonight, contrary to your belief that he certainly would not be.

The door swings open and a very sweaty, very shirtless Jungkook stands with his leg propped against the door, showcasing every glistening muscle of his body in the dim light. He dons an innocent smile, spreading his stance to push the door open wider and making sure you get a good look at the muscles tensing in his thigh. Your eyes helplessly scan the sculpted lines of his stomach, even as he purposefully flexes to draw the tiniest gasp from your lips. Pert brown nipples threaten to steal your attention, but you drag your eyes to the ink splattered across his skin instead. The myriad of tattoos that line the right side of his body tell a story you don’t have time or desire to explore, and you hate the way that your brain notes the curl of black ink disappearing beneath the band of his shorts and reappearing across his thigh.

“Princess, you made it.” He clicks his tongue with a devilish smirk as he watches you look him up and down with your mouth hanging stupidly agape.

Feeling your fight or flight response kick in, Namjoon’s fingers clamp down hard on your neck to keep you from bolting.

“What is he doing here?” you hiss in your friend’s direction, too distracted to fight against his iron grip on your neck.

“I live here,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms. “What? Didn’t you come here to see me?”

The anger on your tongue short circuits the connection your mouth has with your brain. Your jaw snaps shut and you roll your eyes, mirroring his action by folding your arms across your chest.

Jungkook seems amused by your irritation, offering a small laugh. “Client canceled so I decided to do a little exercise at home. Problem?”

He lets his hands drop to his sides, knowingly hooking his thumbs beneath the band of his shorts. Your eyebrow twitches and your jaw tightens. He knows the effect he has on women. He knows the effect he has on you. You’re determined to deny him the satisfaction so you simply stare him down. Douche.

Namjoon forces a dimpled smile to cut the tension. “So... I brought jenga! Do I smell pizza?”

You attempt to push past Jungkook, but he makes sure to bump a sweaty shoulder into you. “I’ve gotta shower. Wanna join?”

If you roll your eyes any harder, you might sever your optic nerve. “Don’t touch me.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Somehow you’ve been stuck with the worst jenga player in the world as your teammate. Namjoon may be a good friend and smart as fuck, but he is terrible at anything requiring coordination. He’s been the only one to knock the tower over. Four times now. That’s four times you’ve had to drink the disgusting gin offered in the form of a shot by Seokjin.

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” you declare, wiping the taste of evergreen trees from your mouth as you set the empty shot glass back down. “Jin, jump in for me?”

You sit back in your chair and pulling out your phone to check your messages.The man grimaces at your request. “Do I have to? The odds seem stacked against me. I can only compensate so much, you know.”

Hoseok and Yoongi snicker into their beers and Jimin laughs out loud as he reaches into the communal bowl of popcorn possessively wedged between his teammate and himself.

“I think these teams are very fair,” Taehyung says, licking the salt from his fingers as he sets the last of the blocks back into position.

“I feel like my luck is changing. Different teammate, different energy, come on,” Namjoon assures him, making the first move.

The block slides out without issue and he drops it on top of the tower with a grin. Hoseok hums a thoughtful sound as he pushes a middle block with the tip of his pointer until it falls onto the other side of the table.

“I’m not sure you’re paying enough attention to be the referee,” Jin pouts.

“Are you really so mad that she’s not looking at you?” Jimin teases with a giggle while making his move. “This is one game where you can’t use your face as a bargaining chip, Jin. It’s all skill.”

The older man scoffs, rolling his eyes as he takes a side block and wagging it in your direction. “How will you know if someone cheats if you’re looking at your phone the whole time, hmm?”

“I’ll know,” you mutter, not bothering to look up. “Besides. How do you cheat at jenga? You knock the tower over or you don’t. Team that knocks the tower over does the shots. Those are pretty simple rules.”

Seokjin grumbles something unintelligible underneath his breath in response. You ignore him as you reach for your bottle of spiked root beer, trying to figure out some clever joke that might impress Jason enough to respond to you. You rack your brain, furrowing your brow in contemplation as you stare at the blinking cursor and take a big swig.

Out of the corner of your eye you catch the flash of white and subconsciously spare a glance up. Your stomach flips like it’s trying to win a gymnastics competition and you wish you could press undo on the double take your eyes have just performed without prompt. Maybe he didn’t notice.

Jungkook pauses in the hall, adjusting the white cotton towel around his waist. He’s grinning at you like the cat that ate the canary as he slowly drags his fingers over the edges of the fabric, peeling it from its resting place on his hips. Of course he fucking noticed.

You force your eyes back to the safety of your phone screen just in time, barely missing the flash of his glossy ink-covered skin. When he realizes you’re not watching the show he’s putting on, he fastens the towel around his waist and walks into the light of the den. You swallow, feeling his eyes rake over your form as he passes the table with a loud sigh.

“All clean,” he announces in a singsong voice as he continues towards the kitchen.

You hate the way your jaw threatens to betray you by attempting to drop at the sight of the rippled muscles carved into his upper back and the thick line creased into the meat of his spine. Even with the broad artistic strokes of color swathed across his back in the shape of a phoenix spreading its red-orange wings wide, you can still see the definition of his form chiseled beneath it. You try not to lose yourself in the flawless details painted into his flesh and grind your teeth to keep your jaw wired shut.

Wet, tangled locks of hair fall into his face as he reaches into the refrigerator. When he stands up straight, he arches his back to stretch his chest towards the ceiling. He’s got a tiny jug of banana milk in his palm and he’s working on chugging it down.

He pauses and licks remnants of the cloudy liquid from his lips. “Thirsty. Relatable, right, Y/N?”

You scowl, tapping furiously on your keyboard. “Put some fucking clothes on.”

Jungkook throws his hands in the air in defeat as he casually wanders out of the room. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”

Your eyes settle on the tower. Minutes pass and still it hasn’t fallen. Turn after turn around the table, the game has gone on far longer than anticipated. Namjoon is determined to not lose this time; it’s actually kind of impressive how careful he’s been. You’ve almost forgotten about Jungkook until he reappears, this time fully covered in black sweats and a long-sleeved shirt. The tension in the room is palpable. You’re afraid to even breathe in the direction of the wooden blocks precariously stacked on one another.

Hoseok is sweating as he prods the stack with his index finger, making a high-pitched whining sound as he tries to determine his next move. Jungkook wedges himself between Jin and Taehyung, forcing you to acknowledge his presence as he sits on the opposite side of the table and steals a fistful of popcorn.

After a few seconds, Hoseok sighs at Yoongi. “I give up. You do it. We’re a team. I’m gonna knock it over if you don’t,” he whines.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and quickly shoots his finger out at a random block. It flies across the table at Seokjin, causing him to dramatically duck out of the way just in time. The table erupts with laughter.

“Damn, that didn’t do it. I was hoping we could play cards now,” Yoongi mutters to himself.

“Hey, what are you doing? You almost hit me with that! You have to put that on top! Go get it!” Jin yells across the table, mind already heavily clouded with booze. At least he’s laughing so you know that heightened tone doesn’t indicate any serious animosity.

“It’s right next to you. Pick it up and give it to me,” Yoongi replies while leaning over the table, which causes the tower to immediately wobble. Hoseok dramatically gasps, bringing his hands to his mouth. Seokjin picks up the block and slides it across the surface as he gives you a pointed look.

"Isn't this cheating? Don't they forfeit since it was on Hobi’s turn?"

"They're technically a team.” You shrug.

"You are a terrible referee," he groans, rubbing his temple as Yoongi carelessly throws the piece on top.

Taehyung and Jimin fervently whisper to each other over their strategy before Taehyung reaches out for an easy-looking target. The slightest touch sends the blocks crashing down, causing the man to blink in disbelief.

“Time to drink up your handsome competitor. Gin served by Jin.” He snickers.

Jimin and Taehyung cringe as Jin slides two shot glasses full of the vile liquid towards them. They link elbows and tilt their heads back, downing the burning liquid in solidarity. Jimin seems unaffected while Taehyung’s face scrunches up and he coughs.

“It burns!” he sputters, clutching his chest. He walks into the kitchen, dragging his tongue across his palm as though it will remove the taste from his mouth.

“Thank god. I don’t think I could have stomached another,” Namjoon murmurs, rising to his feet. “Be right back.”

As soon as he heads off in the direction of the restroom, the others start cleaning up the mess of blocks scattered across the table and Yoongi begins shuffling a deck of cards. Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide into the empty seat beside you. You toss an annoyed glance his way in warning. “Can I help you, Jungkook?”

“You could if you weren’t so busy pretending like you don’t want to look at me.” His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek and he smiles innocently when you look up from your phone to glare daggers at him.

“You’re in Namjoon’s seat.”

He ignores your statement, peering over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of your phone screen. “Who are you texting? Is it your hot friend?”

“She doesn’t want to bang you, dude,” you tell him in a flat tone, flicking the power button to hide the message.

“Oh, just like you?” he asks, unable to hide the amusement striking his features.

After years of practicing this song and dance with other women, he’s grown accustomed to everyone wanting a piece of this cookie. There’s no way you’re immune, especially after his performance on the ocarina a few months ago. He charmed you before you could sink your teeth into his neck and do the same to him, and now you're mad about it. That’s your category, right? Your spite is obviously a cover for your disappointment.

Unless it isn’t. His conviction wavers as your jaw tightens and you take a swig from the dark bottle on the table. People don’t get close unless they want to get fucked. Literally. But you are Joon’s ‘friend’ and you seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him, at least for a little while. Most people are good at faking the first time, but it’s been a while and you’re still here. What if you’re actually hanging around his friends for all the right reasons? What if you had something other than shallow intentions? What if he actually hurt your feelings? He sinks back in his seat, silently stewing in his assumptions.

You set your phone face down on the table, a forced manic smile settling on Yoongi. “What are we playing?”

The man spreads the cards face down over the table in a circle, placing a single shot in the center. “It’s called the circle of death. There are a bunch of ways to play so I’m just gonna pick my favorites.”

He gets up, taking the magnetic whiteboard off the refrigerator and furiously scribbling notes on its surface. You crane your neck to get a good read, but it’s still fairly challenging to make out his chicken scratch.

“There’s a lot you can pick up after hours at bartending school. I had fun playing this with the other people in my class but it’ll probably be even better with you guys.”

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ RULES:

A - Face

2 - You

3 - Me

4 - Floor

5 - Jive

6 - Forehead master

7 - Heaven

8 - Hate

9 - Rhyme

10 - Social

J - Never

Q - Eat

K - Rulemaker

Joker - Waterfall

Your eyebrows furrow at the words you can make out. “This seems complicated.”

Yoongi scoffs, setting the board on the counter and leaning it against the wall. “Trust me. It’s not as bad as it seems. Besides this will be right here in case you forget.”

“Does that say eat? Yoongi, what the fuck does that mean?” You tilt your head to the side and try to read the list in its entirety but still at a loss for what it means.

Hoseok scratches his head, equally as stumped by the list.

“I’ll go over the rules once everyone is back at the table. I have a feeling I’ll be repeating them enough once we start.”

You slump in your chair with a pout as you proceed to polish off your beverage. Namjoon returns and sees his spot has been taken.

"Kook," he warns, tapping his friend in the shoulder to try to get him to move over.

Namjoon isn't stupid in the slightest. He may lack common sense at times and he definitely is the clumsiest person in the room, but perception is his strength. What do you get when you add up the subtle glances, the nervous stutters, and shy smiles? Multiply that sum by the times you've tucked your hair behind your ear needlessly, gotten starry-eyed while talking, or claimed a seat nearby. Tallying your distracted behaviors yields a simple answer: a crush.

You don't have to say anything. You never have to say anything because you wear that shame so well. Even subtracting the stunt Jungkook pulled on Halloween and the distance you've put down since then, it's not enough to negate the total. You say you hate him, but those glances are still there. Pressing your lips tight to keep yourself from smiling has become your default defensive tactic. Playing with your hair quickly turns into tugging loose strands back into a ponytail. It’s almost painful to watch. He wonders if anyone else sees it for what it is because Jungkook sure doesn’t.

Staying out of it is tough because he knows both sides. But it’s not his place to spill the tea to either one of you. You’re both his friends and it’s hard not to feel like the mediator that he definitely doesn’t want to be. You’re adults. You can figure your shit out without him to take care of every little thing. Yeah, it would be easier just to do it all for you, but you’ll never learn that way and neither will he. However, that doesn’t mean he can’t drop some caution tape out every once in a while.

Jungkook digs his heels into the floor and huffs. “But I like this seat and you got up so it’s mine now.”

“Joonie, it’s fine.” You manage to keep the irritation out of your voice, talking over the man to your left like he’s not even there. “He’ll get bored eventually. Don’t feed the troll.”

Namjoon shakes his head and takes a seat on the opposite side of Jungkook, grumbling how you’re going to come crying to him later when Jungkook snaps your bra straps or some shit and his friend is gonna end up with a black eye but whatever not his problem. At least that’s the gist of what you get out of your friend’s griping. He may have a point, but you’re not going to acknowledge that. You’re busy looking at the plastic cup full of beer set down in front of you.

You crinkle your nose at Yoongi but he answers before you can ask. “Everyone is drinking the same thing. Even playing field. Not really fair if someone's got more alcohol in their drink."

You catch Taehyung's eyes across the table and mirror his disgusted expression, both of you sticking your tongue out at the liquid.

"Alright. There's only one rule you really need to be worried about in the beginning: my rule to keep you all from getting distracted. If you touch your phone, whoever catches you is allowed to send any message to any contact in it.”

Jungkook grins wickedly at you, noticing the way you drop your mobile device on the table and leave it where it lands face down. Yoongi goes over the rules one by one and gives an example of each being used. Everyone blinks at him stupidly once he gets to the Queen and delivers a deadpan explanation that whoever pulls that card has to eat it. None of you are drunk enough to believe him, so he scribbles the rule out on the whiteboard and writes a question mark instead. He sets the board back in place and continues with his explanation, looking at everyone expectantly.

He points at the board behind him, not bothering to look back at it. "This is here in case you forget what any of the cards mean, but we’ll go slow since there are eight of us.”

A full round around the table and you are all feeling pretty comfortable and giggly. Some of the more tame cards have made their way into the discard pile beside Yoongi.

Jin pulled an eight and made Tae drink until he said stop, which was hilarious and equally terrifying when you realized someone could do the same to you. Luckily the enemy beside you didn’t have the pleasure.

Taehyung pulls a King and tries to make a weird rule that any time a four is played and you’re all scrambling to the floor, the last one to touch the ground has to kiss the feet of the cardholder. When you collectively agree you are not doing that he huffs and makes a rule that for the rest of the game if you have to drink, you have to dirty talk your beer before taking a sip. This rule makes you determined not to lose any rounds.

Laughter erupts from the table when Yoongi calls his drink a filthy little slut before having to take a sip. Hobi is so thrilled when Yoongi pulls a five and starts dancing immediately after that he ended up cackling instead of focusing on the game. He’s less than thrilled about needing to drink after missing the opportunity to dance so he ends up glaring at his drink.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, you filthy bitch? You want me to put my hands around your throat, put my tongue on you and drink up? Alright then.” He coos a ridiculous sound at his cup and guffaws before taking a huge swig.

Jimin covers his eyes and laughs, downing the rest of his drink like it’s water without a thought of whether he was supposed to or not. He gets up to refill his cup as an excuse to hide the heat in his cheeks.

“Hobi’s upping the game. Woooooow.” Jin leans back in his chair, mouth agape with wonder before bursting into a squeaky laugh.

You gulp, hoping everyone is too distracted by their own laughter to notice the way your legs clamp together. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the actual. Fuck. Hobi. I gotta text Jennie. She’s not gonna believe this. No, don’t touch your phone. Don’t look at anyone. Just wait for your turn to pick a card.

Hobi pulls a three and has to drink again. “Ah. This slut wants more. Here we go, baby.”

You desperately scan the circle of facedown cards, a smile forcefully smattered on your features. You strain to reach the one you’re trying for. Hoseok slides it towards you with an innocent smile, as though those lips weren’t just spewing absolute filth. “I hope it’s a good one.”

Your eyes drop to the card as you flip it back on the table. Jack. You squint at the board, trying to figure out what “Never” means when Yoongi puts three fingers up.

“Alright, Y/N. This is Never Have I Ever. We all put our fingers up like this. You come up with something you’ve never done and say it out loud. If any of us have done those things,” he pauses and drops a finger so he only has two standing tall, “then we put them down. First one to have no fingers up has to drink.”

Oh no. What haven’t I done? What haven’t I done? The guys all expectantly wait for you to say something. You purse your lips as your mind blanks on every moment you’ve ever experienced.

“Never have I ever…” your mouth is dry. “I don’t know.”

Yoongi laughs. “Don’t think too hard. It doesn’t have to be anything crazy, but it does have to be true. It’s not fun otherwise. People have different goals. You can use it to learn or you can just try get as many people to drink as possible.”

Suddenly a lightbulb goes off in your head. They’re all men. “Never have I ever peed standing up.”

Everyone around the table puts a finger down. The mirth in Yoongi’s face becomes strained and his eyelids flutter as he sighs. “Careful. There are a lot of cards left and you’re about to make yourself a target.”

You press on anyway. “Never have I ever had sex with a woman.”

A few of them tut in annoyance as they’re all left with one finger up.

Jungkook pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek. “You’re not living your best life then.”

You furrow your brow while trying to think of another easy thing that could get them all to lose. Tapping your fingers on the table, you make an effort to focus on each one’s concentrated gaze. It comes to you and you filter your bottom lip through your teeth for a moment. Have they...? You’d bet they all have.

Jungkook rolls his eyes at you. “Come on, Princess. Just say whatever it is.”

“Never have I ever been to a strip club.”

There’s a collective sigh as their hands drop and they stare at their drinks. You grin like a maniac, taking in the garbled sounds of each one dirty-talking their drinks like it’s a goddamn orgy.

Jungkook looks over at you, making sure he has your attention as he offers an amused smile. “You really haven’t been to Wings?”

You’ve seen signs for that club, hating to admit the ads garnered intrigue. It’s split down the middle, supposedly one side angelic and the other hellish. “Nope. Drink up, Jungkook.”

He maintains eye contact with you, bringing his drink to his lips. “Maybe I can get you to come. Will you give me permission to taste you?” He tilts his head back and makes a show of closing his eyes and slowly slurping his beverage. You narrow your eyes at him before he puts the cup back down. “Delicious. My turn.”

He flips the card. “King. Ooh. My rule. Starting now, every time you say something you have to start with the word hashtag and end with dotcom.”

“Jungkook, that’s so stupid,” you say without thinking.

“Hashtag, drink up Princess, dotcom,” he replies with an impish grin.

You bite your lip and stare at your drink. How could you be so careless? They all lean in, waiting for the words to leave your mouth. You hold your hands up in a T-shape. “Hold up. Time out. Pause the game. I need some clarity. Do I have to say hashtag dotcom thing WHILE talking to my drink?”

Namjoon looses it, laughing like a maniac. “Hashtag, I think you fucking do Y/N dotcom.”

Jungkook just smiles, crossing his arms and waiting for you to continue. God, you fucking hate him. This is the dumbest rule you’ve ever heard. It’s going to get old fast. Still, you stare down at your cup. “Hashtag… Uh… I’m gonna... s-slurp your fluids out now, dotcom?”

Jungkook’s obnoxious laugh is piercing your eardrums as you down a few big gulps. The rest of the table roars with laughter and heat burns your cheeks, not daring to make eye contact with any one of them.

“W-What was that?!” Jin yells. “You sound like an alien! Can I give you some pointers, please?”

“Hashtag, Seokjin! You forgot dotcom!” Jungkook says, pointing to his friend’s cup.

Jin curses under his breath and stares at his cup. “Hashtag, this is how you do it, Y/N.” He focuses on his cup without missing a beat, raising it up to the sky longingly like he’s about to start serenading it. “You wish you could hear me say this every day, don’t you? You love how my mouth feels on you. I can tell by the way you’re dripping for me, my lovely. Dot. Com.” He makes a point to run his tongue along the rim of his cup and takes a sip.

Fuck these guys. But also… Fuck? These guys? You’re one dirty comment away from soaking your panties, but they don’t need to know that.

“Hashtag I’m sorry I’m not a slut like the rest of you. Also Seokjin, you’re a bitch, dotcom,” you grumble, gripping your knees to keep your hands off your phone. Jennie will absolutely scream once you tell her about this night. She’ll be sad she missed out.

Jin’s eyes go wide as though you smacked his ass in front of the world, a smile is taking over the corners of his mouth. “Hashtag, stop trying to flirt with me, dotcom.”

You roll your eyes but you can’t help the shy smile that creeps in. Jungkook sits up straight and sighs dramatically. “Hashtag let’s keep going so we can get the rest of this bread dotcom.”

Jimin pulls a king and has made the rule that hashtag dotcom is abolished. It comes as a relief when you’re a few more rounds in, and everyone has already consumed way more booze than expected because of Jungkook’s rule. An uneventful round of drinking passes before Seokjin pulls the last King out.

“A rule, hmm? Alright. When you ask someone to drink you have to hold their chin, stare longingly into their eyes, and ask them to drink.” He demonstrates, holding Taehyung’s jaw in his fingers. “Like this. Will you please drink for me, my dear friend, Taehyung?”

Tae bashfully giggles waving his hand away. “You’re too much sometimes. I think you need a girlfriend.”

Since it only applies for certain cards, you end up forgetting about it as multiple turns come and go without utilizing it. Your turn rises again and you slide the eight face up across the table. After kicking your chair with his feet for the millionth time, you completely forget about the rule Jin made and pick based on your irritation. Eight is hate indeed.

“Jungkook, go until I say stop.”

The words feel satisfying as they leave your mouth, but Namjoon grimaces, anxiously baring both sets of teeth.

“Uh… You gotta…” Namjoon taps his cheeks twice with his fingertips.

Horror replaces that smug satisfaction in the pit of your stomach and it churns a sickness deep inside that pit.

Jungkook cocks his head at you. “You really wanna put your hands on me that badly, huh?”

You exhale loudly and tightly grip his chin with sweaty, hot fingers. Your eyes threaten to burn holes into his. “Jungkook, go until I say stop.”

He’s stunned into silence for a second, adam’s apple bobbing ever so slightly. He blinks at you a couple times before regaining his composure. Who knew princesses can breathe fire? Grabbing his cup, he grins and chuckles an amused sound even as you’re tearing yourself from him.

“Don’t worry I can go all night when you taste so good, baby,” he says, tilting his head back as he drinks.

You keep an eye on his cup, watching the liquid slowly disappear. You have to be careful not to let him finish, but you kind of want him to suffer a little bit. Even though he drinks like a fish, he’s still not on Jimin’s level. This has to be affecting him somehow. He watches you through an annoyed side-eye when you don’t say a word, not allowed to stop until you say so or until he finishes his drink. Your phone chooses this exact moment to vibrate a long sound against the table and your concentrated gaze wanders for a second too long, allowing him to gulp down the remnants of his drink.

Jungkook slams his empty cup down in time for you to look back at him in horror before looking at your own full cup. The room fills with the sound of everyone “ooooh-ing” like this is the sixth grade. With a heavy sigh, you bring your cup to your lips.

“I was distracted. I would have said stop.”

Jungkook leans his elbow on the table and rests his head on a folded palm. His smile tells you he’s ready to dish it back. “Mmm-hmm. Go on. Oh… Wait.”

He sits up, cupping your jaw in his hands so lightly, like it could disintegrate at the slightest touch. He leans his head back slightly, soft eyes imploring you to move closer. He slides his fingers up your jawline, nestling them behind your ears like he’s about to draw you to his lips. “Will you be good and drink that for me until I ask you to stop?”

Jin scoffs. “Wow. Look at this guy.”

The others hold back their snickers. Your eyebrow twitches, smacking his hands away from you. Instead you focus on the cup in your sweaty palms.

“I can’t wait to feel you… dripping from my mouth,” you whisper to your cup, trying to redeem yourself for earlier and doing your best not to think about how fucking good it felt having Jungkook’s hands wrapped around the sides of your face. You don’t spare a look at any of them as you tilt your head back and start gulping the liquid down.

“Much better,” Yoongi says with a smirk, but you don’t hear him over the sound of blood rushing in your ears.

Namjoon smacks his hand to his forehead. “Yeah... I’m gonna need you to dial it back just a bit. I still have to see you at work.”

Jin pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. “Ah, maybe our Zelda isn’t so bad at this after all.”

Jimin, Taehyung and Hobi all have their elbows on the table, cheeks in their palms as they watch your throat make its swallowing motions. They simultaneously grunt differing words of affirmation. About three quarters through, Jungkook puts his hand on the bottom of your cup.

“Stop.”

Mercy? From Jungkook? You don’t believe it, but you’ve been struggling so you’re kind of grateful. Just as you’re about to put the cup down, he taps the bottom of it, forcing liquid to splash upwards onto your chin. You slap his hand away as he cackles and you wipe your lips.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.”

“What time, sweetheart?” He grins when you glare at him.

“Just pick your fucking card before I strangle you.”

“Kinky. You know, I might let you if you asked nicely.”

You get the pitcher of beer from the fridge and start refilling everyone’s cups. He pulls a card that has him whispering dirty words into the rim of his empty cup, holding it out for you to fill. At least most of the cards seem to be gone now. You hate to admit you’re feeling a bit dizzy and out of sorts, but you reason that it’s just a few more rounds, so maybe you just sip on water after this game is over.

Just as you get back to your seat, Namjoon throws a sheepish grin your way. “Joker.”

“There’s only one of these,” Yoonngi begins, looking around the room to make sure he has everyone’s attention. “Waterfall is when everyone starts drinking and you can’t stop until the person to your right stops. Namjoon can stop whenever he wants, but Jin has to wait until he’s done. Then Taehyung waits until Jin is done. Make sense?”

Normally the waterfall card is played in the opposite direction, but there’s so much tension between you and Jungkook tonight and he’s so used to his friend getting his way with women that he can’t help wanting to give you the edge on him. Everyone nods. The realization dawns on everyone that before this can happen, they all have to do two things per the rules.

One after another the guys ask the person to their left to drink while gripping their chins. It would be a fairly intimate scene if people weren’t giggling every three seconds. Still, your heart damn near skips a beat when Hobi’s slender fingers curl under your jaw, drunkenly pulling you closer to his face than you’ve ever dared to get. Heat builds in your stomach and travels up your chest, spreading across your back and prickling your neck. You hope it doesn’t move into your cheeks.

“You gonna take this drink, Y/N?” he aks, unable to hold the giggles in as he wags your head back and forth in his steady hands.

Oh… He’s fucking gone, isn’t he? “For you? Maybe,” you flirt, rubbing your shoulder against his as you turn away.

Jungkook sits up straight, muscles tensing as you twist your body towards him. Suddenly, he looks a lot bigger than you remember. Is he puffing out his chest? You wilt under his irritated stare but are determined not to let it show. You slip your fingers underneath his chin, just barely registering the stubble there. Your slow blink hides the flutter of your eyelashes, alcohol clouding your brain with desire. But damn if the room isn’t still spinning. He flashes you boyish grin when you clap your palm to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Yes?”

“Drink up, buttercup,” you giggle, pinching your fingers closed beneath his jaw.

A choked laugh escapes him. “You should sit this one out. At this rate, you’ll be passed out with your face on the toilet seat in an hour.”

You spin back to your drink with fury in your eyes; if there’s anything you hate more than Jungkook, it’s being told what to do. Especially by Jungkook. I’ll show you, asshole.

Everyone turns to their cups and mutters a few dirty words before Namjoon begins the circle of drinking. One by one the cups come down, everyone seemingly grateful for the person before them showing at least some kind of mercy. You slow your gulping when you realize Jimin is dragging it out in an attempt to annoy Yoongi. Both of them still seem surprisingly sober for the amount they’ve ingested. Maybe they don’t wear their intoxication as easily as the rest of you. Hobi exchanges a worried glance at you, trying to not let it slip that he’s only pretending to down his beverage, but you can tell by the steady level of the liquid in his cup that he’s pretty much ready to tap out.

As soon as Jimin finally pulls his cup back from his lips, Yoongi stops, immediately followed by Hobi. Yoongi is keenly aware of his roommate’s inability to hold down liquor in large quantities. He doesn’t fare much better with beer. Saving his friend means you can be saved too. He looks at you, raising his eyebrows in warning. You spare a fleeting glance in his direction, but it’s long enough to catch his message loud and clear: Don’t be an idiot, Y/N. Don’t go overboard.

But you turn your attention to Jungkook, who is still effortlessly allowing his beverage to slither down his throat. You gulp in segments, a commendable attempt to keep yourself going. Even for all your efforts, booze spills from the corners of your mouth and leaves cold sloppy trails down your neck as you watch Jungkook. He’s not even struggling. Fuck. You finally give up, allowing the cup to smack down on the table with a messy splash.

He keeps going just to spite you, polishing off his drink with a smack of his lips and a satisfied sigh. He rises from his seat, patting your shoulder as he gets himself more to consume. “It’s cute how hard you tried.”

The final round passes and you are ready to strangle Jungkook for the way he keeps knocking his knees against yours. It’s gotten to the point where you’ve moved your chair so close to Hobi’s that he’s put his arm around you, thinking you are just as sleepy as he is. Truth be told you kind of are. The room is a little too spinny for your liking, but you can’t seem to persuade your brain to make your legs get up and get yourself a glass of water.

“You want to nap too?” he whispers, rubbing the eyes he can hardly keep open. “Come here. Let’s sleep together.”

The innocent words make your stomach spin in place but you don’t have time to ruminate on them. Jungkook hooks his ankle around your chair and jerks it back towards him. Furious eyes flicker on him in warning just as Hobi’s cheek slumps over your shoulder and draws your attention away. Luckily Yoongi springs into action to keep his friend from falling any further into your personal space than he already has.

“Okay, Hobi. We get it. You need to sleep,” he chuckles, cradling his friend’s arm around his shoulder as he helps him to his feet.

Hoseok weakly grumbles a sound of acknowledgement as they shuffle down the hall into what you assume is a guest room. Their apartment is bigger than any you’ve seen so you find yourself wondering just how many guest rooms they could possibly have. Then you remind yourself that it doesn’t matter because you are definitely not staying because getting an uber is always an option.

When Yoongi returns alone, people have started migrating into the living room. Jungkook and Jin are still seated, heatedly talking about some game nearby, but you’ve elected to ignore them in favor of checking your messages. Jason has sent you a few messages that have piqued your interest, including one finally asking you on a date. Does ignoring guys really fucking work? Was Namjoon right about something in his life? You don’t want to believe it.

The words in Jason’s message blur together, despite how hard you’re concentrating on them. You’d told him you were out with friends. He must have known you’d be relatively unavailable so maybe it’s okay that you’re in no shape to formulate a coherent response. Still you stare at the keyboard, jumping when an arm reaches over you to place a glass of water on the table for you.

You blink a few times at Yoongi, who simply whispers a gruff “drink” before grabbing the shot left in the center of the table and downing it as he joins the majority of his friends in the other room. Jungkook looks over at you, eyes dropping to your open conversation when you absentmindedly set your phone down. You take the cold glass in both hands and narrow your eyes in Yoongi’s direction as you swallow down a good portion of the liquid.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It’s been an hour and if you’re honest you’ve just barely teetered back into the moderately drunk category. Yoongi had offered to take you home when he was getting ready to leave since he was already chauffeuring Namjoon. At the time you declined because you were certain that your natural predisposition to motion sickness would be amplified by the liquor in your system. You didn’t want to make Yoongi’s new car smell like puke. Namjoon has this habit of texting when he’s worried. Even after he left you’d been going back and forth about the night. Honestly it’s kind of helping keep you from passing out and you’re reminded how grateful you are for his friendship.

Sitting on the couch next to Jimin may have also influenced your decision since the man literally smells how vacations feel — and god do you need to relax. He’s also acted as a barrier between you and Jungkook, who has his legs stretched out across the cushions to Jimin’s right. Jungkook has been engrossed in his phone since you left the table, opting out of switching off with Taehyung when he dies in-game. You’re kind of thankful for it. Maybe he’s finally settled down for the night. Does he get more polite with drowsiness?

Jimin smiles softly at you, his arms draped over the back of the couch. The pair of you have been quietly conversing and giggling over the platformer Seokjin and Taehyung have been playing. Jimin’s face still looks a little flush with alcohol, but he only just finished his last beverage for the night. How the hell can someone so tiny pack away so much liquor? You hold in a shiver as his fingertips playfully dance along your shoulder, trying not to let on how the action affects you. His harmless flirting only bolsters confidence hiding in the depths of your mind and you stretch your arms up with a yawn and lean against him, knowingly giving him a better view of the cleavage poking out from beneath the v-cut of your shirt.

Jimin allows a devilish smile to curl at his lips as his fingers walk down your arm. He puts both hands back on the couch, like you’d made the move unprompted by his touching. “Hmm. You’re pretty bold, aren’t you?” His whisper is low and breathy, so quiet you almost miss it. What a tease.

“Hey. Jimin. Come here.”

The unusually quiet Jungkook knocks his foot against his friends knee, which pushes Jimin’s thigh up against yours. You softly sigh at the contact and the subsequent loss when Jungkook sits up and Jimin apologetically scoots away. You plant an elbow on the armrest beside you and prop your cheek up on your palm. Seokjin is carrying Taehyung through this level it seems.

“Do you think I should tap that?” The words are loud enough to distract you so you can’t help but turn your head in their direction.

“I think she might be out of your league,” Jimin giggles. “Besides she’s older than you. I thought that bothered you?”

“Oh. No way. I love it. When they have more experience I don’t have to work as hard,” he replies with a lofty sigh.

“Are you sure about that in this case? You’re very presumptuous.”

Your blood heats up the back of your neck. Why are men so disgusting? You grit your teeth, unable to hold in the sound of disgust that makes its way through them.

Jungkook’s head snaps up and he locks eyes with you. There’s something smug about his expression, like he’s stupidly proud of pulling that reaction from you. “Aw, are you feeling left out, princess? Here, see for yourself. Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

When he flips his screen around your own profile is staring back at you. Straightening your spine and reaching across Jimin’s lap for him, you hiss, “Jungkook, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Why?” He tilts his head to one side, feigning confusion and looks at the profile again. “I think she’s pretty hot.”

“If you match with me, I will not swipe right on you. You know that, right? So this whole thing is pointless,” you reason, more for yourself than the two men beside you. “You’re not gonna get to me. It’s not gonna fucking work, Jungkook.”

Jimin’s shoulders tremble with soft, mellifluous laughter that spills from his lips as he takes in the exchange. It’s apparent that Jungkook has already gotten under your skin. Denying it is only making you angrier.

“Fine. Fine. It’s gone now, see,” Jungkook says, briefly flashing you the home screen of his phone before putting it away. The image of that big tiddy anime girl behind all those icons is going to haunt your dreams; you can feel it.

You get up to get yourself more water. “I hate you so much.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It’s late. Seokjin left a few minutes ago and Jimin rubs his eyes, unsure what to do. The selfish part of his brain tells him he should claim the other guest room. The horny part of his brain tells him he should suggest you share with him. The exhausted part of his brain tells him to just pass out in Taehyung’s bed and let him figure it out.

“You’re welcome to stay, too. We have room for you,” Taehyung says with a kind smile. “There’s another guest room.”

You still don’t feel well enough to drive or sit in a cab. You sit with your hands folded in your lap, pondering your shitty life choices. You’ve become pretty good friends, but a sleepover seems a bit strange without your bestie Namjoon to buffer out all of the awkward moments.

You smile as sweetly as you can manage, your voice small and borderline whiny in its need for sleep. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t want to be a bother. Thank you, Taehyung.”

The man rolls his eyes. “I won’t allow you to sleep on a couch when we have beds.”

“Your couch is comfier than my actual bed,” you joke, patting the plush cushions on either side of you.

Jungkook walks in, shirtless and scrubbing a toothbrush furiously in his mouth. He tries to speak but it’s unintelligible, so he turns back around to finish up.

“It’s really okay. I should stay up and finish my water anyway and I don’t want to keep you guys up. I drank a little too much.”

“No shit,” Jungkook sighs as he rounds the corner and leans against the wall. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay up with you, Princess.”

Taehyung flashes his friend a pointed look and opens his mouth to speak, but closes it when Jungkook continues.

“You guys go on. I’ll make sure she drinks up her water and gets to bed.”

You glare at him as Taehyung moves in to whisper something to him, but you lose focus as Jimin pulls you into a tight hug that you can’t help but return.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he mumbles into the fabric of your hoodie. “I’m glad you’re a part of our family.”

You squeeze his shoulder before he shuffles down the hall and disappears into the bathroom. “Goodnight, Y/N!”

Taehyung offers a boxy smile and a small wave, demeanor changed after his side conversation with Jungkook. “Don’t take off without having breakfast. Seokjin will come back and make something tasty. Also I put your keys in my studio so good luck finding them if you try.”

You half laugh, half scoff. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind. ‘Night.”

“Goodnight,” he says, passing Jungkook a tight lipped smile on his way down the hall.

Jungkook waits until he hears the door close before he speaks and for the first time since you met him, his tone borderlines concerned. “Be honest with me. How sick are you right now?”

Your throat swallows down a thick mass of air. “I’m fine.”

“Tch. Okay, Princess,” he scoffs in disbelief, taking slow steps towards you with his hands buried in the pockets of his black sweatpants. “Do you need a bucket?”

“No.” You drink down your water, trying to focus on anything but the way your body is producing enough sweat to make you want to discard your hoodie as soon as he leaves you alone.

A door opens down the hall and Jimin shuffles out before disappearing into another room. The quiet click of the door closing causes Jungkook to sigh.

Spinning. The room is spinning again. You hold the cold glass in your hands like it’s your lifeline, shut your eyes and throw your head back to rest it against the couch. You don’t notice when he leaves, but you definitely notice the cold cloth pressed to your forehead when he returns.

“Do you want comfier clothes?” he quietly asks, voice bereft of any humor as he sinks into the cushion beside you.

You open your eyes and glare at him like this is some prank he’s playing on you but you’re not sure how. “No.”

He rolls his eyes. “Suit yourself. I get hella hot when I’m drunk off my ass. Figured I’d ask.”

“I’m not...” you begin, trying to bring your head to rise. It feels heavy and plops back down on the seat.

“You’re drunk,” he states plainly. “And miserable. So drink up the rest of the water and I’ll show you to the guest room. It’ll be embarrassing if any of my friends wake up to you looking so pathetic. Come on.”

He helps you bring the cup to your lips and tilts your head forward enough to safely consume the rest of the water in your glass.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“If you think this is what nice guys are like, I feel bad for you.” He puts the glass down in the kitchen sink, briefly rinsing it.

“Jungkook,” you whine, an exasperated sigh passing your lips with his name.

“What? Your judgement of character is way outta whack. It’s just sad,” he explains, crossing the room while rubbing fresh lotion up his arms. Washing dishes makes his skin feel itchy.

“Alright. Come on. Up.” He waves his arms lets them weakly smack his thighs when you don’t move.

A whiff of sweet peaches and soft jasmine pervades your nostrils. Why does he have to smell so fucking good? He removes the cool cloth from your forehead, earning a whine from you.

“You’ll get a new one when you get in bed. I can carry you, if that’s easier.”

“Tell me why you’re doing this. I don’t get it. What do you want?”

“I want to go to sleep so I can be lazy tomorrow and do nothing but play video games.” When you don’t budge he sighs and sits down beside you again. “And... because... you’re Namjoon’s friend and he asked us to look out for you... And now you’re all of my friends’ friend… And I guess that makes you my responsibility.”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t expecting you to just decide you’re gonna be nice out of the blue,” you weakly smirk and let your head roll to the side so you can look at him. “Should have known it was Namjoon.

He hums an amused sound. “Yeah. Now are you going to let me get you in bed?”

You’re able to force your head up at that. “I can get myself in bed just fine thanks.”

He laughs. “Your loss.”

You stand on unsteady legs. “Where am I going?”

Jungkook grins, entertained by your lack of coordination. “That’s a good question. Where are you going, Princess?”

You stumble a bit, reaching out to steady yourself with a wall that is definitely too far to grab. Long, tattooed fingers grip your shoulders in an instant. The heat of his massive chest presses against your shoulder blades. Even through your layers of clothing you can feel how hot his skin burns and it makes you shiver, despite the way you’re soaked with sweat.

“Don’t make me ask you for help,” you plead. “Please don’t.”

“Do you want me to pretend like you didn’t beg for it, too?” he whispers, curling a muscular bicep around your back and guiding you down the hall. As he passes the thermostat, he makes a point to lower the temperature a few degrees. Jimin, Hobi, and Tae will survive. But then again, he’s not worried about them at all, is he?

“Haven’t you embarrassed me enough?” You voice cracks and you’re barely managing to hold back the tears threatening to spill out.

He doesn’t say a word as you cling to the strength of his body, looping your arms around his neck and waist as though he isn’t the last person in the world you want to tangle yourself in. He pushes the door to his room open with his shoulder, making sure you get across the threshold okay before helping you awkwardly waddle over to the unmade bed. You don’t seem to notice, and if you do, you definitely don’t comment.

Your hoodie is falling from your shoulders as you climb onto the mattress. Jungkook grabs the fabric and slings it over his shoulder. You’ve landed at a weird angle across the pillows and show no signs of correcting your position so he moves the pillows beneath your head to comfortably accommodate you. You slowly blink at him, but you’re not seeing him. Silent tears rolling down your cheeks as he grabs the thinnest sheet on his bed and pulls it over your form up to your shoulders. He chooses to ignore the way you quickly swipe them away and instead goes to get the cold towel he promised.

Standing in the sink with ice cold water running over the cloth in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into the air around him, knowing no one will ever hear it.

When he returns he waits a moment, looking for the steady rise and fall of your chest. He smooths the hair from your face before pressing the cold cloth against your sweaty forehead, turning your head to the side just in case your body decides it isn’t quite ready to rest. He lightly pats your head a couple times and leaves the room, delicately closing the door behind him.

As he makes the journey back to the couch, he feeds his arms through the sleeves of your hoodie. He settles down on the couch, feeling the warmth of the space you’d been occupying all night beneath his head. Pulling down the blanket from atop the back of the couch, he brings his knees to his chest. He bunches the soft, excess material of your hoodie in his palms and turns his head into the fabric, allowing himself a subtle inhale.

Why do you have to smell so fucking good?

#magicshopnet #smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff

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ikkos · 3 years

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﹅ 000 ✩ 一 THE SILHOUETTE !

“See the horizon. See the sun that’s coming awake there, or perhaps it’s retiring for the moon now; see the golds and pinks and the promise of a sunny day’s blue, or perhaps the indigos and violets stark behind stars. See the one that approaches, their gait and their pace and the clothes that hang off their figure. Most details are lost to the distance, but if you look and listen hard enough, you might be able to discern their identity…”

⠀

TW: Death.

— Describe your muse as best as possible in a single sentence.

“She’s standing on a line between giving up and seeing how much more she can take.”

— Describe your muse as horribly as possible in a single sentence.

“I just gotta kiss myself sometimes, I’m so f*cking pretty.”

— Describe your muse’s voice.

Honey drips at the seams every time her lips dictate any form of noise. It’s sweet, delicate, gentle - perhaps, formal. She has been trained since a young age to maintain posture and reduce aggressiveness or excessive negative language due to her growth of rank. The classes have always been about creating a purr as opposed to a stuttering, unconfident statement. As, for a woman, in such an industry, one must be taken seriously by the way they stride or maintain themselves. Maybe if you leaned a little closer, listened a little more, there could be something seething in her undertones of dishonesty and toxic intentions.

— Describe your muse’s fashion sense.

Fashion to her is more than cute clothings, but rather an expression of personality, uniqueness, and showcasing her own self-confidence. From pleated skirts, thigh highs, short dresses, and high heels - she’s maintained the typical ‘rich girl’ aesthetic by the amount of high end brands endorsing her look. However, she enjoys a twist, her own sense of self in her clothings by either: cutting, restyling, recoloring, or repurposing.. which makes all of her closet options simply distinctive to only her. Nothing about her fashion sense would be found on anyone else, but her. It is what she has taken the most pride in over the course of several years as her style continuously evolves into something of a more formal business woman. No, you won’t ever catch her looking basic, even if she’s dead.

— Give a quote of something your muse has said before.

“How many funerals can someone attend before they’re twenty?” Black adorned her frame a little too perfectly for the event, at least, if you ignored any dark circles coated underneath her eyes that were negligent to constant appraisal; yet the mirror mounted in-front of her paid no mind to highlighting all of those small details to her. She knew she looked like a mess and didn’t need the untrustworthy reminder. “Miss. Jeon, that’s inappropriate.” Komi’s eyes rolled at such a statement since she nearly forgot someone else accompanied her in the tight space. “But, it’s true.”

— What fable, mythic, or fairy tale character would your muse best play the role of?

Sleeping beauty; her favorite princess.

“Princess Aurora (also known as Briar Rose) is the protagonist of Disney's 1959 animated feature film, Sleeping Beauty. She is the daughter of King Stefan and Queen Leah. On the day of her christening, Aurora was cursed to die by the evil fairy Maleficent. Due to the efforts of three good fairies, the curse was altered to instead draw Aurora into a deep sleep that could only be broken by true love's kiss.”

— Which archetype best describes your muse?

The Lover.

“The lover archetype represents play and sensual pleasure. They like to live in the moment and are appreciative of the physical environment. They try to be more attractive physically, and emotionally. They crave intimacy and enjoy being in a relationship with people. The lover archetype is also known as a friend, spouse, team builder, partner, and sensualist. The lover archetype is probably the most passionate, but they have a tendency to lack discipline. They want to stay young, innocent, and pure. They remain one of the most likable of archetypes.”

— Which temperament does your muse have?

Sanguine 21, Phlegmatic 12, Melancholic 6, Choleric 8.

“Your temperament is Sanguine. The Sanguine temperament is fundamentally spontaneous and pleasure-seeking; Sanguine people are sociable and charismatic. They tend to enjoy social gatherings, making new friends and tend to be boisterous. They are usually quite creative and often daydream. However, some alone time is crucial for those of this temperament. Sanguine can also mean sensitive, compassionate and thoughtful. Sanguine personalities generally struggle with following tasks all the way through, are chronically late, and tend to be forgetful and sometimes a little sarcastic. Often, when they pursue a new hobby, they lose interest as soon as it ceases to be engaging or fun. They are very much a people persons. They are talkative and not shy. Sanguines generally have an almost shameless nature, certain that what they are doing is right. They have no lack of confidence.”

— Describe your muse’s favorite memory.

Four years old, a memory at its earliest stage, yet so delicate and precious. The young girl trotted after her father in a near skip, smiles echoed on both of their features. This was the first time she found herself glued to the man’s side in endearment rather than fear; something of a new emotion for her to experience. But, It was only given that her attention faltered onto the beautifully decorated frames of different generations alongside the wall by her. Curiosity at its finest, one that her father indulged in while they toured the vacant manor. “One day it’ll be your’s, darling. Your own castle that you can protect.” At the time, of course, she didn’t fully understand the definition behind his words, yet the idea alone gave nothing but a euphoric feeling as her fingers laced together with his. “You can do that for me, right?”

— Name something your muse will always believe in.

Destiny & soulmates.

— Name a song that would play during the opening of a movie about your muse’s life.

Worst Behavior by Ariana Grande

— Going out or staying in?

Going out.

— Read the book or watch the movie?

Read the book.

— Talk during a movie or absolutely not?

No. What do you think this is?

— Sing to a song, hum along, or people should just stay quiet and enjoy listening to the song?

She wouldn’t be able to decide herself.

— Windows up while you’re driving or roll them down?

Wait, she’s allowed to drive?

— A wizard casts a spell on your muse that reveals their true colors. No, literally. The wisp of an aura is beginning to form around your muse. What color is it?

Crimson twirled around her in a deep fog. It felt suffocating as if air was forced out of her lungs within mere seconds, being replaced by nothing but the encasements of red. She knew very well that she deprives herself into two different personalities. She just didn’t expect the full showcase to cause such an intense pressure down against her chest. Red..? The color of love, creativity, passion, adventure, energy, and so many more beautiful things. Although, all she could think about were the color’s relativity to danger and aggression. There’s no way to tell which is the true or honest tell of her character.

— A wizard casts a spell on your muse that reveals their true nature. Smoke curls around your muse, accompanied by distant sounds of wildlife. When the smoke clears, what animal is standing in your muse’s place?

The previously suffocating smoke finally cascades from her senses. Opposed to the expected, a small fox appears in her wake, sounds of birds and leaves in the wind peeking from the distance. Many appeal to the fox as an ideal spirit animal by the way they follow signs of loyalty, independence, adaptability, beauty, and positive signs of luck. This is something she felt she could agree with as well as understand despite the strange circumstances. It’s what she didn’t know is the entire reason behind her revealed spirit; that the foxes are the royalties of mischievousness and tricks.

— A wizard (is this still the same wizard?) casts a spell on your muse that allows them to see what they most desire right here, right now, right in front of them. What do they see?

It seems these strange events never stop. This realization dawned on her the moment a figure shaped in-front of her, a figure so familiar yet unknown. The figure reached out to her with worry printed on their ghostly features. She didn’t know how to react at first, it was only natural that her hand reached out to his, an unforced smile tugging at the edges of her lips. When their fingers touched, all shades of color and light became possible. It became easy. It felt like fireworks plus all previous negative emotions or pressures ceasing to exist in his wake. She believed that this was her fate, the one she’s destined to be with. At least, until the figure lifted her small frame off the floor in a more maternal stance. Her eyes grew wide while everything around her froze. “Fa-..”

— A wizard (why haven’t they given up yet?) casts a spell on your muse that forces them to see what they are most afraid of. What do they see?

Within an instant, everything vanishes from her line-sight. Nothing but pure darkness surrounds her, not even indications of time or location. Her heart begins to pound inside her chest as panic shivers its way down every nerve and fiber of her being. Where is she? Where did everyone go? The girl paces back and forth before eventually running anywhere she could go without truly feeling like she’s moving at all. In the end, her body falls down to her knees as weakness or hopelessness settles into her bones; a broken sob stuck in the back of her throat. Being alone is the most tragic feeling anyone could experience.

#death tw #str:task000 #⠀:⠀#⠀·⠀𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤⠀𓂃⠀직무⠀⋆#⠀·⠀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥⠀𓂃⠀사실⠀⋆

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boukenboy · 3 years

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#16: アンジェリーク魔恋の六騎士 / Angelique: Maren no Rokukishi

Angelique: Maren no Rokukishi was a visual novel released by Koei in collaboration with Otomate, a developer of many otome games within Japan. It follows the story of Teresa, a young girl whose parents went missing when she was very young. She lives in the city of Siva with her adoptive family - an unnamed grandmother and her annoying brother, Renaud. After hearing strange rumors about a series of kidnappings within the city, she falls victim to a masked assailant later that night, only to wake up in her room a day later with no recollection of what had happened to her. Read on for drama!

Her brother disappears too, and Teresa beings to desperately search for the boy. She soon finds him within the company of a band of traveling mercenaries. She pleads for him to return, but Renaud refuses, pledging his loyalty to the captain of the mysterious group, Leviath. Faced with a lack of options and her brother's stubborn reluctance to return home, she begs the one-eyed weirdo to serve as his assistant, as Renaud is prone to exhaustion and illness. He agrees, and soon Teresa finds herself on an interstellar adventure, supporting the knights as they serve various clients.

Maren no Rokukishi focuses on the nature of war. When is violence justified? Is it worth it? Do the ends always justify the means? The game explores all of these at some point, and overall, its surprisingly cynical and dark, in a sharp contrast to the colorful art direction. Family ties are broken, betrayals abound, and the action sequences are surprisingly well-written. There are sections in Maren that I found myself completely absorbed in the writing - despite being the type to skim fight-scenes, especially those written in a language that I am not a native speaker of.

Unfortunately, most of the above happens in the final hours of the main route - the rest is simply not that interesting, primarily due to the focus on Renaud. So much of Maren revolves around him, and quite frankly, he is easily the worst member of the cast. Renaud is whiny, naïve, occasionally bratty, and has an incredibly irritating voice. He collapses at the slightest bit of effort, and yet everybody in the cast dotes on him and sees zero no issue with letting him lead his own army. Make no mistake, this is not Teresa's story. It is his.

When you're not experiencing Renaud's latest temper tantrum, depressive episode, or fainting spell, you'll be treated to amusing slice-of-life vignettes of Teresa adjusting to a mercenary lifestyle. You'll be harassed by a drunk, attacked by bandits, threatened with your life at the slightest suspicion, and so forth. Like I said earlier, Maren really only picks up in the final hours, where the shit hits the proverbial fan and characters start dropping like flies. The ending is honestly shocking in how far it plunges into campy tragedy - think Game of Thrones, but actually entertaining. I said what I said.

Thankfully, the other routes solve the Renaud issue entirely. But there is a caveat: in order to unlock these routes, you have to complete the main story first. I am of two minds about this feature. On one hand, I think its interesting that the designers have you experience their fantasy epic before allowing the player to romance their favorite knight, but on the other, I don't think that Maren's "canon" story is strong enough to justify it - there's just too much focus on one character, and he's not even remotely likeable. I did some research before writing this game, and found someone who agreed with me, saying, roughly translated from memory, "...but there was too much Renaud, so I'm taking off a star."

The individual routes are much stronger. My favorite of those that I've played was Giovanni - he's basically the ultimate twink: a hard-drinking, gambling, blackmailing scammer who loves trouble. His route is very light-hearted, which was a welcome relief from the drama present throughout the rest of the game, and his playful nature reminds me a bit of a particular ex of mine, so I'm naturally a bit biased. The main conflict in his route occurs during their second date: he carefully arranges a luxurious all-day experience with Teresa. They go to the opera! He gives her a new dress! A fancy restaurant! Flowers! It's amazing!

It is then revealed that he was able to go to such excesses because he scammed rich people out of their money. Teresa, for whatever reason, is appalled at this, and basically tears him apart, making a huge scene in public, even - and I was completely dumbfounded. This might be a bit too political for a gaming blog, but I personally would have no issue with someone I am interested in romantically treating me to a five-star experience through some rich asshole's money. They'll be fine, they're rich - who cares? It would be one thing if he was beating up orphans in the street, but Giovanni only targets those who can afford a little blackmail. He is the ideal husband. Teresa should deal with it.

Kiefer's route was incredibly moving, albeit in a more personal way - this blonde mad lad is absolutely insane, and for a good part of the story, Teresa is left unsure as to whether or not he wants to love her or kill her. With most characters of this type, they quickly warm up to you, but Kiefer is different: if Teresa expresses even something even slightly disagreeable in his mind, he would not hesitate to slaughter her on the spot. He is also the character I'm most attracted to, and that says a lot about me and I don't want to talk about it.

As I said earlier, Maren has a streak of denying the supposed inherent value of family, and there is no greater example of this than in his route: Kiefer kills his brother, an adorable himbo struggling to adjust to high society, in cold-blood, and then attempts to do the same with his father, who, as we find out, tended to dote on his twin-brother. As someone who has been disowned by my own family, Kiefer's rage resonated with me. We, as children, take in our parent's biases, for better or worse, and when we cannot live up to them, it creates a disconnect. I have not spoken to my family in nearly five years. I could understand and identify with Kiefer's rage. I wouldn't go as far as to kill my own family, but who knows what would have happened should I not have left my home town?

I did not know this when I first began playing Maren, but the game is an adaption of a light novel released after Angelique: Tenkuu no Requiem, which is itself an RPG spin-off of Angelique Special 2. This makes Maren a spin-off of a spin-off, but despite that, I still had plenty of fun with the game - I just wish the main route was realized a bit better. I usually like to replay certain routes to better formulate my opinions, but Maren focuses entirely too much on a character I could not stand. I'd definitely recommend this to fans of Angelique, particularly the sequels mentioned above, as I'm sure the game contains all sorts of references to the source materials, but on its own, it's a bit lacking overall. That being said, as much as Maren lacks, there are certain scenes that were so well-done that I found myself genuinely moved. It's an uneven experience, but one worth looking into!

#otomate #ruby party #otome #otome games #visual novel #fantasy game #retro gaming #gaymer #review #angelique #angelique series #played several other routes but this review was long enough

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charmingnines · 4 years

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5 Times Nines Woke Gavin Up (And The 1 Time He Let Him Sleep) - DE Artfest Day 12/5+1

read it on ao3

or read it below vvv

Gavin, Nines knew, didn’t really take lunch breaks. Gavin was incredibly single minded, forgetting to eat the whole day in favor of solving a case. When he did stop for lunch (often at Nines’ insistence), he’d either eat very quickly or bring it back to his desk so he and Nines could keep working.

When Gavin went to the breakroom to grab something to eat, Nines expected him back within a few minutes. When twenty minutes passed and Gavin still hadn’t returned, Nines got up to see what was keeping him. He found Gavin in the breakroom, head down on a table, clearly fast asleep.

Tina was using the microwave. “Hey, Nines,” she said.

“Is Gavin sick?” Nines asked.

Tina glanced at Gavin and snorted. “Nah, he’s fine.”

“That has to be uncomfortable,” Nines said.

Tina shrugged. “Insomnia’s a bitch.”

“Oh,” Nines said, thinking of Gavin’s general irritability and short temper in a new light. “That explains a lot.”

Tina laughed and patted Nines on the shoulder as she left the breakroom.

Nines stood there for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of Gavin’s shoulders. Then, Nines turned to the kitchen and started a fresh pot of coffee. Within a few minutes, Gavin blinked awake, smelling the air hopefully.

Nines raised an eyebrow. “I can’t believe that worked.”

Gavin jumped slightly. “Jesus,” he said, voice hoarse.

Nines smoothly poured a mug of coffee and deposited it in front of Gavin. Gavin looked from the coffee to Nines, seemingly too drowsy to comprehend either of the two. Nines rolled his eyes and pushed the mug closer to Gavin. Then, Nines left the breakroom. “See you out there, Detective,” he called over his shoulder.

Late nights at the DPD were common for Nines and Gavin. Gavin would probably stay late every night if Nines didn’t drag him out of the office. Even so, Nines didn’t see the harm staying late every so often, especially when it resulted in more solved cases.

They’d been digging through evidence for a few hours in companionable silence when Nines found something that looked promising. “Gavin-” Nines started, turning to look at his partner.

Gavin’s eyes were closed, dark lashes standing out against his skin. His head was tilted at an awkward angle, resting against both his shoulder and the back of his desk chair.

Nines’ internal clock told him it was nearing three in the morning. He blinked. He hadn’t realized how late it’d become.

Nines reached out and pushed Gavin’s chair gently, causing it to slowly spin. Gavin jerked awake, disoriented. He planted his feet on the ground and scowled at Nines. “What was that for, asshole?”

“It’s late,” Nines said, reigning in an amused smile. “And you’re tired. Let’s pick this up in the morning.”

Gavin stretched his neck and sighed. “Fine,” he grumbled, glancing at Nines. “See you in the morning.”

III

Stakeouts were notoriously boring. The majority of the time they led to absolutely nothing. Still, Nines and Gavin couldn’t skip them on the off chance they did lead to something substantial. The first few hours they’d filled with their usual sniping (“Just let me use my binoculars, Nines”), but that’d petered off into a comfortable silence.

As the sun started to rise, it cast pink-gold light through the windshield of the car. Nines glanced over at Gavin and found him asleep. Nines couldn’t blame him; they’d been sitting there since midnight.

Gavin’s curling hair was messier than usual. His lips were slightly parted and he was breathing softly. The scar on his nose didn’t look so stark when his face was relaxed.

Nines waited until his blue flush faded away before turning on the radio at a low volume.

Gavin rubbed at his eyes. “Fuck,” he said, noticing the time. “How long was I out?”

Nines shrugged, looking away from this sleepy, disheveled, attractive, version of Gavin. “Not long. There was nothing to see anyways….”

“Screw Fowler and screw all these dickheads,” Gavin said, gesturing at the miles of backed up traffic in front of them.

Nines glanced at Gavin. “I don’t think they can hear you, Detective.”

Gavin ignored Nines. “Sending us to check out a scene during rush hour,” he grumbled. “We’ll be lucky if we get there by midnight.”

“Actually, my internal GPS predicts we’ll arrive in half an hour-”

Gavin waved his hand. Nines held back a smirk. Grumpy Gavin didn’t respond well to reason.

Gavin pulled the lever connected to the passenger seat, leaning his seat as far back it could go, and shut his eyes.

Gavin was still asleep when they arrived at the scene, an old warehouse that was a suspected red ice production hotspot. Even through the car’s air filters, Nines could smell the stench of large quantities of red ice and- Nines’ eyes widened- fire. The criminals were burning the place down to cover their tracks. Never mind that red ice was an unstable, combustible drug.

Nines didn’t have enough time to move the car away from the scene, so he did the only thing he could do: shield Gavin with his body just as the building exploded. The force made the car skid backwards and blasted the windshield to pieces.

Vaguely, Nines registered the stabbing pain from the glass pieces in his back and the heat from the fire. He heard Gavin’s startled “Nines?” Then, panicked, “Oh, fuck, Nines.”

Nines’ system warned him about excessive thirium loss and imminent shutdown. At least Gavin’s safe, Nines thought, unable to keep his eyes open.

Nines woke up in a hospital bed at CyberLife. The glass had been removed from his back and his thirium levels were back to normal. Nines’ system told him his reboot had been the longest part of the repair process, nearly three whole days.

Slumped in a chair next to his bedside was Gavin, asleep. Nines didn’t need to scan him to see he’d been neglecting himself. He looked paler than usual, making the dark bags beneath his eyes look even worse than usual. Nines doubted Gavin had been sleeping or eating regularly; he hadn’t even changed clothes since the accident. Though now invisible to the human eye, Nines could see his own thirium splattered across Gavin’s chest.

Nines sat up. “Gavin,” he said.

Gavin startled awake. He blinked a few times, looking at Nines like he couldn’t believe he was there. “Nines.”

“You should go home,” Nines said.

Gavin shook his head. “Excuse me?”

“You need to eat something more substantial than what hospital vending machines can offer and then you need to rest,” Nines insisted.

Gavin clenched his fists by his side and set his jaw. For a split second, Nines thought maybe Gavin was going to punch him. Then, Gavin did something even more surprising than that- he lurched forward and kissed him.

It was an aggressive, desperate kind of kiss that left Gavin gasping for air. “You fucking asshole,” Gavin breathed. “I sit here for days, waiting for you to wake up after you saved my fucking life, and you immediately tell me to leave?”

Nines held onto Gavin, stunned. “I just want you to take of yourself.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “You’re just as important as me, dickhead.”

“Sorry for saving your life?”

“Fuck you,” Gavin said, but there was no bite. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” Nines said softly.

Gavin leaned in to kiss Nines again like he couldn’t help it, like he never wanted to stop.

+ I

Nines woke up before Gavin. Weak morning light streamed through the windows. The only sound was of Gavin’s soft breathing. Gavin’s head was on Nines’ shoulder, his hand resting on Nines’ chest. Beneath the covers, their legs were entangled.

After dating for a year, Gavin and Nines had moved into together. Nines had helped Gavin get on an almost functional sleep schedule. Now, Gavin hardly ever fell asleep in questionable places.

Nines gently ran his fingers through Gavin’s hair before settling his arm around Gavin’s waist and closing his eyes. It was their off day from work and still quite early. Nines let Gavin sleep.

#DEartfest #detroit evolution #reed900 #reed900 fic #dbh #dbh fic #detroit become human #rk900 #nines #gavin reed #my fics

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silkylious · 3 years

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Hi dear. I’m the anon who requested an istp reader earlier and i’m so sorry I completely missed the requests closed sign. Congrats on 400 followers!! Your event is so cute and I’m here to request a matchup! I’m a straight 5’7 girl whose personality type is istp. I have long brown hair and brown eyes. I’m a figure skater who loves to read, write and watch anime. I also like to bake whenever I have time. I’m rather analytical, with my strengths lying in math and science and history as my weakest. My writing style is more poetic, consisting of long sentences, metaphors and personophication. I’m blunt and my humor is dry and witty. However, even though I usually can keep a cool head, I get flustered easily (it’s one of the things I hate most lmao). I generally don’t take BS and my style is minimalist. I prefer to stay in by myself rather than go out with large groups of people. If I had an SO, I would much rather stay in and enjoy each other’s presence than go out on elaborate dates. I have a really low social battery too. My music taste is all over the place, but I love Chase Atlantic and Arctic Monkeys. I’m more of a cat person, though I do love dogs, and I like nature and spending time outside. Hopefully that’s enough information! Thank you so much! - 🧩 anon

Thank you so much for sending this in!! <3 I hope you like your matchup! :3

I ship you with...

general relationship dynamic:

A match made in heaven or hell depending on who you ask

Similar enough to maintain stability, but different enough to keep things unpredictable and fun

Katsuki appreciates your rational nature, as he himself is extremely pragmatic. That common denominator relives the stress of having to deal with problems caused by emotional misunderstandings

I can definitely see this dynamic as a slowly building friendship at first

Your tendency to not let anyone walk all over you and keep a calm aura about you immediately attracted him, but simultaneously frustrated him to no visible end

The blatant contrast between your personalities instantaneously made him want to break that collected demeanor of yours.

All in the name of competition. At least it started out that way.

Battle after battle, bruise after bruise and trail after trail, the more hardships you faced together, the more teasing your remarks became.

What started out as him hurling every curse word known to man in hopes of shattering that nonchalant exterior of yours (and you ultimately ignoring him), slowly but surely turned into both of you exchanging well-crafted remarks.

Your sardonic humor was such a good match for him. Both knocked him off his high horse and left him in complete awe (and affection. Though he’d never admit it) of your quick, sarcastic wit all packaged in a light-hearted tone that didn’t wound his ego (too much).

More often than not, you’d fluster the hell out of him. Not that it was hard to get a reaction out of Bakugo Katsuki to begin with.

Your sharp responses just made him want to see you lose your cool even more. He never wallowed in his embarrassment too long, always too eager to grasp the next opportunity to turn the tables on you.

You bet your ass the first time he saw your composure slip, the bastard basked in it. Laughing to his heart’s content while you indignantly screeched at him to shut up.

He’d never forget that moment; and he made damn sure you wouldn’t either, not hesitating to bring it up whenever he wanted to put you in your place or just to get a rise out of you for the hell of it.

And from there it just doesn’t stop. He’s a quick learner and oddly observant, and he uses both those traits to his full advantage when picking on you. His relentless teasing never ceasing to give him the satisfaction of seeing your disheveled composure.

He also loved the gentle crease in your brows and that adorable pout on your lips whenever he verbally pushes you into a corner but that’s beside the point-

Not that it mattered anyway, you had plenty blackmail material of his less than dignified moments to spare.

Your friendship was easy going, trustworthy, reliable. But neither of you could admit your feelings to each other to save your lives. Much to the dismay of your friends, who had to watch the absolute clownery of you tip-toeing around your feelings in muted agony.

Cue perpetual pining.

Once you finally confess your feelings for each other, I honestly don’t see the relationship shifting much.

You act like really, really close friends who just happen to be affectionate and completely enamored by one another

I see Katsuki as a high energy person. Regardless of where he chooses to focus that energy, he needs external stimulus. More often than not, he directs his abundant energy into training and sparring. But generally, a lot of his excess energy is expelled through social interaction. Whether or not this social interaction is mirthful doesn’t really matter so long as he’s depleting his excessive energy.

Your low social battery might pose a small issue, dealing with Katsuki alone is like dealing with a dozen other less intense individuals. But you can easily work around it through your common interests and hobbies that can stimulate you both without depriving you into mental exhaustion

trivia:

Katsuki loves going on outdoor dates with you. A picnic in a secluded park, hiking, stargazing, camping- you name it

These dates are perfect for you two, combining your love for nature and privacy all the while giving him an activity to expel his stamina

Though he can’t say no a good at home date with you.

I absolutely adore the one headcanon about him being an amazing cook but a horrible baker

With a bit of coaxing on your part, you somehow manage to get him into baking. His skills are fucking abysmal.

He’s also distracting

Every time you try to bake together it almost always ends with both of you covered in flour with like three batches of burnt cookie dough, and childlike grins on your faces

Katsuki doesn’t really mind what the two of you do on dates, so long as he’s spending alone time with you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way

He’s a lost cause you figure. But he'll secretly practice at home, to his mother's dismay. But he doesn't care, it's all worth it in the end as he catches sight of pride and admiration in your eyes the one time he baked you a simple treat for your birthday

He made sure to learn your favorite baked goods, if only as a back up plan when he fucked up and needed to worm his way back into your arms

His curiosity was peaked when you’d told him that you’re a figure skater. So much so that one day he asks (read: demands) that you take him to an ice rink

As you show him one of your choreographies, he’s in a state of silent admiration

Katsuki is extremely kinesthetic, so he could easily pick up on the countless hours of hardwork you’d spent mastering your form, perfecting your footing, building up astounding flexibility to be able to preform and make it seem so effortless

The way your muscles pulled taut and relaxed again from stance to stance, the way small bruises lay proud on your skin as an indictive of all the effort you’d put into this sport all but made him fall in love with you again

When you strike a final pose, looking at him expectantly, noiselessly, he doesn’t say anything. But the star-eyed gaze and gentle smile he gave you spoke louder than any of his crude words ever could.

The cherry red in his eyes every so often melted so softly, it set your heart ablaze each and every time

He ended up reluctantly swallowing his pride and asking you to teach him a couple moves that day

You have study dates. All. The time.

He’s a jack of all trades so history is a no brainer for him. When you ask him to help you with it he begrudgingly complies.

Now whether or not his teaching actually helped is up to your imagination lmfao

I think one of Katsuki’s main love languages is quality time; you don’t even have to be actively helping each other while studying, just your presence around him sedates his mind exceptionally

Seconds tick by on his digital clock, each thirtieth tick he discreetly glances at you to make sure you’re still there, if he’s in the mood he’ll have to touch you in some way or another. Doesn’t even have to be affectionate, just your skin on his is enough to spur a content sigh out of him

when you’re simply reading a book or watching an anime together, he’ll lay his head on your lap without a word, or he’ll sit behind you with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Give it some time and his roughed-up hands will snake their way into your long hair, making a mess out of it, braiding and unbraiding it as he pleases. Tease him and he’ll instantly move

He loves reading your writing! To him, it’s like you’re inviting him into a corner of your mind. A corner very few get to explore, and he takes pride in that privilege

Can be a bit hesitant to give his full interpretations of your works at first, often just replying with one word “encouragements” but he quickly recognizes your discontent and tries to be a bit more open with his thoughts.

Slowly but surely he lets you into a corner of his mind as well, and you couldn’t be happier in those moments

[bus ride home]

The sun lovingly cast its last embers upon his face, framing and sculpting it with sharp shadows and soft reds into a breathtaking portrait as his matching crimson irises look far away, far beyond the sunset. He’s unfairly handsome. You huffed, forcing yourself to look away from what you could only describe as perfection, lest the last remnants of breath elude your lungs.

With your stare finally detached from him, all your senses started bleeding back into reality. The hum of soft rock buzzing through your plugged earbud caught your attention. Ah, this was one of your favorites. Your mind started painting his visage behind your closed lids, the music only added to the vividness of the dozen or so shades of oranges and yellows. You hummed along; the crescendo was steadily approaching.

“… But I crumble completely when you cry…”

The gentle tenor in your voice lulled Katsuki away from his muddled thoughts, instead focusing on your serenity. You’d always being good at keeping your cool, but this was different. With a tiny tug at your lips as they moved with each delicate syllable, you looked truly in your element. Angelic in a sense as the warm rays of dusk embraced you. He couldn’t look away from what he could only describe as perfection. His flushed ears barely picked up on the porcelain notes leaking from the unplugged earbud before his tongue started imitating your own.

“… In my imagination you’re waiting, lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs and a smile.”

One brown eye blinked open, surprised at the gruff bass joining your little jamming session. Katsuki snatched the unused earpiece and put in his own.

“Weren’t you the one that said my music taste is trash?” You raised an eyebrow.

“It is trash.” The glimmer in his gaze told you otherwise. You scoffed and looked away, attempting to hide the smile pulling on your lips.

The next song started playing.

#matchmaker silky #🧩 anon #bnha matchup #mha matchup #505 is the best am song dont @ me

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gascon-en-exil · 4 years

Text

Mercilessly Judging the Men of Fòdlan: The Kingdom

It’s been a long time coming, over eight months in fact, but now that it may be assumed that the last of the DLC has been released and the fandom as a whole has settled comfortably into its various camps I think there’s no better time than now to answer that burning question: how raunchily, outrageously gay can the male cast of Three Houses possibly be? For those unfamiliar with this fun little series of mine, I’ve been applying my extensive knowledge and experience of gay male sex and hookup culture to the men of Fire Emblem, originally as a way of reckoning with the refusal of the games themselves to provide me with any worthwhile self-insert M/M content. I stand by that premise for FE16 - you all know how absolutely nothing appeals to me about m!Byleth or his prospects on that score - but in the years since my first outing of merciless judgment with Awakening that idea has expanded into something broader, an imaginative modern AU of sorts where all these guys are into men (if not always exclusively) and willing to put themselves out there in the lewd and semi-anonymous world of hookup apps in search of their preferred carnal delights.

A note on organization before we begin, as this material is too long to cram into one post. Excluding Byleth (as Avatars and their spawn always are for this project) there are twenty-one playable male characters in Three Houses. This makes for an even threeway division to preserve the eponymous conceit of the game, but not a particularly neat one. Aligned with the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus I therefore have below the male Lions, Kingdom knight and Azure Moon-exclusive Gilbert, and Faerghus-based underworld kingpin Yuri. As with all things concerning M/M outside of Byleth and his awkward S rank monologues, the Lions have it the most clear-cut.

The Empire

The Alliance

Dimitri

It’s rare that you can get a feeling for someone’s whole life story entirely from watching their presence in hookup spaces over time, but he’s an exception. Once a sweet, wide-eyed collegiate who looked eager to get dicked down by any reasonably polite and attractive top/vers, hard years have turned him grim and sad and just barely put together enough to be presentable for a clothed face pic, much less anything more revealing...and still eager to get dicked down. He’s been dealing with a lot lately, and even though he’s still game for a quickie from time to time (especially with muscle guys, a shallow weakness of his he’d blush to admit to out loud) a single roll in the sheets isn’t going to make him emotionally available. Apparently he’s already well-covered on that front as it is; with his charisma and open-minded way of looking at the world he’s made many friends and fuck buddies and companions who seem half like boyfriends and half like something indescribably beyond that, and a new trick would be hard-pressed to compete with that and likely wouldn’t want to if it means engaging with his demons. Still an enviable hookup partner though, with a full pert ass and a whole assortment of friends who love to play with him and anyone else who lands an invitation to his bed. His cock has left many a bottom drooling, but unfortunately he’s haunted by the memory of the time when he went too hard and nearly caused a medical emergency. Now he just takes it and doesn’t even let anyone ride him, but there are just as many men who aren’t complaining about that in the slightest. Has a very high chance of winding up in a tender and fulfilling poly marriage that’s still open on all sides - he’s got a lot of hot, sweaty love to give.

Favored erotic tea time subjects: body worship, muscle bears, group sex

Favored gift: a body pillow, on the infrequent occasions where he has to sleep alone with no one to cuddle

Dedue

One of those shy larger men who will never initiate conversation, because he’s been blown off one too many times for shallow reasons and isn’t expecting that to ever change. It doesn’t bother him greatly though, because as his profile states he’s in a relationship and he and his partner only play together so unless you’re only looking for friends - not impossible, as he’s got quite the array of engaging hobbies on display in his pics - you’ll have to accept that this bear has a cub...or something like that anyway. Bad at small talk and even a little embarrassed to talk about his expertise in the kitchen or the garden, it’s a completely different story when the lights are off where he’ll give cocky power bottoms and scoffing total tops exactly what they deserve. Sub bottoms on the other hand bring out his softer, cuddly side, and he’s more likely to be using his considerable weight to lovingly press them into the mattress as he opens them up with his tongue and eventually his dick. Is utterly devoted to his partner but enjoys watching him playing around with third parties, even if he’s almost never allowed to sit on the sidelines for the entire night. To the shock of everyone he’s actually a total vers, even if he leaves most tops stammering excuses and bending over for him anyway. He’s usually polite enough to stick to oral in those cases. He’ll never be the most sociable man, but he’s a real catch regardless in every other aspect and is no doubt looking forward to his inevitable wedding and only sometimes X-rated married life. Still fondly recalls the first time someone introduced him to the idea of sex while cooking, and now he takes it as a challenge (only when he’s cooking just for himself and his sexual partners, of course; he doesn’t want to be unsanitary).

Favored erotic tea time subjects: twunks, voyeurism, cum swapping

Favored gift: a chef’s apron short enough to let his junk hang free

Felix

Has a biting retort for every unsolicited nude and “looking?” ever sent to him, and he gets a lot of both when his pic is just enticing enough and his profile is full of enough acerbic wit to provoke the kinds of guys who actually read those things. Claims he’s vers, gets pissed whenever anyone tells him that’s just code for bottom, gets even more pissed after hookups when his partner points out that that’s totally true in his case. Prefers oral to conversation, both giving and getting, and he’s got a remarkable talent for handjobs that surprisingly doesn’t seem to be born from excessive masturbation. Not so great with fetishes - he punched the first guy to pull his hair while he was giving head, and passes made at him during his workouts leave him more annoyed at the interruption than aroused. Disarmed by anything too soft and cutesy so he’s not great with fems, but it’s unclear if this has anything to do with his lingering daddy issues that he’s not working out in the bedroom because they’re (probably) not like that. Not sentimental at all, but he’s probably got that one longtime slow burn affair he doesn’t bring up with his tricks. If anything ever comes of that he’ll vanish immediately from the app space, but until then he’s up for a 69 followed by a good long pounding - much longer than you’d expect from someone of his frame. Good thing too, because he loves making his partners cut loose and give it to him raw and hard.

Favored erotic tea time subjects: “straight” guys, dildos, pig sluts

Favored gift: high-quality lube. and lots of it

Ashe

Everyone’s BFF, sweet and affable and able to bounce from friend group to friend group even without always having to take his clothes off. Usually finds himself as the token twink surrounded by men who are very much not that, because they value his friendship and reliability (and also his ass, as expected). Did not have the best home life and has probably had to do a few shady things to get by, but with all that mostly behind him anyone would be happy to date him or even just to take a walk with him, as he’s quite outdoorsy when he’s not taking care of relatives or less responsible friends. A bottom by expectation because there’s not much else one can infer when he shows up to bars and house parties alike in the company of guys twice his size who aren’t shy about being casually handsy with him. Still, has learned to be quite deft when the need arises and knows how to stimulate on multiple fronts, whether for one partner or several. His weakness for muscles is genuine too, and he loves a firm chest as much as taking some guy’s thick meat. Paradoxically doesn’t have a lot of patience for dumb jocks, but since he knows just about everyone worth knowing (and sleeping with) in his area and works the freckled fresh-faced young cutie angle with an artlessness that surprises some of his less gifted peers he’s bound to wind up in a comfortable relationship of some kind or another. Prefers to have sex with the lights on, and if given the option will cuddle for a long time afterward to avoid turning them off. His ass has freckles too, but he rolls his eyes when he gets asked that.

Favored erotic tea time subjects: gym sex, spit roasting, breaking in new bottoms

Favored gift: a sensible jockstrap, for workouts and for dates

Sylvain

Everyone you know has slept with him, but almost never more than once. You might have even met him in person long before you encounter his minimalist profile with its headless abs pic hitting you up with a shot of his erection measured against a beer can followed by an address. Gets a lot of action on that pic alone, but repeats are few and far between when he pulls out his phone right after pulling out of his guy of the hour and starts browsing through what’s on offer again and slow jerking. Not a big fan of FWBs met through hookups since he always feels like they’re being too clingy even if they just happened to get horny for him again a few weeks later. Does not like to talk, especially about his family, and he almost never extends an invitation to spend the night. Still, as callous as he is that cock is impressive and he knows how to put it to work. Good with his mouth too, and true to his cultivated total top persona he’d sooner rim than blow. He’s also successful and likeable enough in his personal life to have buddies who’ll play around with him, and he might even have some kind of nebulous long term thing going with one or two of them that they strictly don’t discuss. Bottoms only as a challenge, but he’s not great at it and doesn’t have the stamina to last very long while riding. Is on PreP and uses condoms religiously so he’s got that going for him, but testing after sex with him is still recommended because there’s really no telling how many other holes he’s filled that week. Likes twinks and twunks, but loudly refuses to ever be a sugar daddy no matter how desperate he might get in his later years assuming he doesn’t die of untreated syphilis or something equally appropriate and ridiculous.

Favored erotic tea time subjects: marathon fucking, double penetration, open relationships

Favored gift: a fleshlight molded into the shape of his favorite fuck buddy’s hole, for sentimentality

Gilbert

His pics are neither very current nor very flattering, and he doesn’t excel at small talk although he’s evidently been around long enough to know how to get an open-minded hookup over to his place from time to time. Encounters are fast and fumbling and drawn out more by his waning libido than anything else, and half the time he’ll settle for watching a guy play with himself in front of him while he makes an effort to get into it. It would be inaccurate to say that he’s not a romantic man; rather, it’s as though all his passion has been left behind in a difficult former life that he only reveals some of in long wistful moments over multiple encounters. Doesn’t get many repeats however on account of the lackluster performances, and also because his stubbornness bordering on self-righteousness about certain topics becomes very grating very quickly. Based on the stories he tells and the few pictures he has to show he was quite a catch in his earlier days, but circumstances and being closeted until much later in life kept him from exploring as much as he wanted. Has the potential to end up in a loving if not particularly sexual relationship with someone provided they’re extremely patient as he works through and/or learns to set aside his numerous hangups. There are worse fates...but never, ever call him daddy. It brings up a lot of bad memories, plus he just thinks it’s weird. Kink is something he left behind decades ago when he resigned himself to the knowledge that he wasn’t going to be getting much vanilla action, much less anything more exotic.

Favored erotic tea time subjects: mutual masturbation, actual straight guys, spooning

Favored gift: the balls to get some closure

Yuri

A consummate professional, albeit one whose marketing strategy carefully conceals that fact and also leaves no room for the kind of casual bigotry that flourishes on hookup apps - having a problem with “no fems” is expected from the build and the guyliner, but he’s all for equal opportunity sex even on top of that. Accustomed to the usual array of lonely and horny men who hit him up for pics and dirty chat and the occasional good time, and skilled enough in a variety of roles to perform whatever’s being asked of him. It’s not entirely clear where his own tastes lie; even the muscled closet cases who show up in his messages on the DL don’t seem to do all that much for him if they’re not paying. A former career in the arts has left him with an entertainer’s flair for pleasuring his clients both in and out of the bedroom along with an eclectic skill set that always finds a way to get put to work during sex. He can grind his hips, swirl his tongue, arch his back, and moan in the just the right ways to drive his partners wild, and all that experience also lends itself to his ability to patiently tutor even the clumsiest of lovers into something resembling competence, enough for them to get off if not himself. Bottoms more often than he tops, but he’s vers enough in skill and in preference to pivot when necessary and will probably have little trouble keeping this gig of his going later in life as well. He may not ever end in a proper relationship, but he’ll still do well for himself in an unorthodox way in keeping with the curiously world-weary optimism he sometimes espouses during pillow talk with guys who actually interest him enough for conversation.

Favored erotic tea time subjects: flip fucking, big top/small bottom, religious kink

Favored gift: creative restraints, for when he’s feeling acrobatic

#Fire Emblem #FE16 #Fire Emblem Three Houses

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