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ellieslaces · 3 months

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CAN’T CATCH ME NOW. (prologue)

presenting: Umbrella’s Hunger Games

featuring: leon kennedy x fem!reader

synopsis: the Hunger Games, an annual show of brutal control the Capitol has over each of the twelve Districts. the Games’ number one sponsor: Umbrella Corporation, the creator of the Games’ most horrific torture strategies and nightmare inducing deaths. these games have always been cautionary, always a far away but constant threat — until you find yourself Reaped and thrown into an area full of your worst fears with 23 other Tributes, all out for blood.

content warnings (future): harsh language; heavy violence; gore; torture; heavy themes of murder; infanticide; social injustice; class discrimination; brief mention of suicidal thoughts; angst; character death; eventual smut; enemies to lovers

notes: this is inspired by the Hunger Games (no 1) and takes place in the universe; if topics such as violence murder infanticide etc trigger you, skip this series; the reader is said to be a Career Tribute

Chloe talks: posting a my prologue for my new Leon Hunger Games series before the next strike tomorrow! please enjoy, I’m convinced this will be my magnum opus :)

word count: 768 (it’s a prologue, so it’s short)

now playing: can’t catch me now ; olivia rodrigo

how you can help Palestine! 🇵🇸

Images of dark alleys, of scorching hot deserts, of raging icy tundras, of sickly beautiful yet dangerous forests haunted each child’s dreams. Not for any reason in particular other than the fact that the images were fed to them since birth. Spoon fed into their heads — the showings of each years annual Hunger Games.

Decades upon decades ago, the ocean swallowed nearly half the continent in a devastating and unprecedented tsunami. States and even smaller countries were lost to the depths of the sea, leaving the remaining forty percent of the country overflowed with a surplus of population.

Women, men, and children with nowhere to go, now crowded the north part of what once was the United States. Now twenty of the fifty states remained, thousands upon thousands of casualties, leaving too many for the forty percent of the country to support.

The government handled it with the worst of ideas, their support was lost, their lack of understanding and empathy led to an inevitable uprising. People stormed the gates of the White House, threatened to kill — and did kill — senators, and representatives, and judges, and even their families.

This uprising nearly destroyed the country as a whole. Thousands were slaughtered, bloodlines were destroyed, families killed by the rebels. Until a group of unknown power that had been hiding behind the scenes for decades stepped forward, taking control of the people. This led to a bloodbath of violence, political control, and the people finally were forced to accept their defeat.

From then, the country was divided into thirteen Districts, each with its own purpose of serving the new country’s Capitol. This new country — Panem — was run with a ruthless government, a controlling President with no mercy and a clever mind. He was cruel, and heartless, and as dangerous as he was calm.

No one dared to object him, no one dared to take his power for fear of the consequences. So, for decades, President Ozwell E. Spencer ran the country. His company — one he started long before he was elected as President — Umbrella was the sole sponsor and creator of the annual Hunger Games.

Where each spring, twenty four children between the ages of twelve and nineteen were picked at random by pairs to represent their District in a fight to the death.

One boy, one girl from each District, chosen by random to be plucked, and bathed, and painted, and paraded, and eventually murdered for the sake of entertainment. Once, these Games were a reminder of what revolution could do, how it could crumble a nation. But that notion was long gone, all that now remained was the entertainment value of their deaths. Deaths none of them deserved. Deaths you never imagined you’d actually witness, much less cause yourself.

The intricacies of these Games were lost upon you, all you knew was to survive. Despite being a so called ‘Career’ and had as close to luxury as you could for someone from one of the Districts, you hardly had the stomach to commit things such as murder. Much less upon other children, people your age.

District One, luxury items, riches, and favor of the Capitol itself. Careers, the title of the Tributes that were put into the Games each year. These Tributes were raised with advantage, raised with early training available to them. Available to you.

For the majority of your life, since you were able to understand what the Games meant, you’d been trained by Victors, the Redfield siblings. Chris and his sister, Claire, were once Tributes themselves, in consecutive years.

Chris Redfield won at nineteen with pure brutality, physical strength and power, partaking in the bloodbath and taking out a good majority of the other Tributes in the beginning. Chris’s Games lasted a mere week.

While Claire Redfield managed to outsmart each and every other Tribute in her arena, successfully becoming the Victor by simply waiting for them all to die by natural causes, or killing themselves with their own stupidity. Her Games lasted three, the ending of said Games pushed quickly to be brought to a conclusion. Leading the girl to become Victor at a mere thirteen.

So, despite the fact that you weren’t technically supposed to be trained by Mentors unless Reaped, the Redfield siblings trained you behind the curtain. They prepared you for the possibility of you being Reaped, of being subjected to the horrors they’d seen. To the murder they had to commit to stay alive. They wanted you to win, to have a chance of survival.

But, maybe they should have just let you die. Maybe they shouldn’t have taken you under their wing when they found you shivering in the rain after a school bully had taken your pack and shoes and jacket.

Maybe they should have just let you be killed. Then you wouldn’t have to live with the memory of him.

#can’t catch me now.#re2 leon #Leon Kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x fem reader #Leon Kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #Leon Kennedy fanfiction #hunger games #the hunger games #the hunger games au #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil au

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faerievampling · 3 months

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Killing Time

Chapter 5: Pink

Word Count: 5.2k

Pairing: Soft Ascended!Astarion x female Tav/Reader

Link to AO3!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 6.

Masterlist

Warnings: 18+. Explicit. PiV. Anal Sex. Oral Sex. Cunnilingus. Blowjob. Handjob. Creampie. Body worship. Overstimulation. Possessive behavior. Soft Ascended Astarion.

A/N: Lots of smut in this chapter and A!Astarion being horny and soft for his vampire wife. Next chapter will be lots of fun. Hope you guys enjoy <3 im either sorry for the word count bc it got out of hand orrrr you love a healthy word count and you're welcome :)

Pic by: @cheekylittlepupp<3

When Kith’rak Elan assigned Astarion’s group to a new training room, you were almost certain Astarion wouldn’t allow it: but he hadn’t fought the decision, thank the gods, because he was starting to embarrass you, and you don’t think you could have handled another blunder.

You hadn’t realized how annoying a doting husband could be until you arrived at the Crystalline Spire. You were used to spending a lot of time with Astarion and being adored by him, but it had been long since anyone treated you the way the gith did; it had brought out a different side of your vampire, seeing his darling with so much responsibility again.

Astarion, his anxieties steadily increasing, had become insistent on having some part of his body touching you whenever possible: this wasn’t unusual for the two of you, but he had gotten rather forceful about it.

Back home, you and Astarion subjugated all that surrounded you; Astarion handled most things, leaving you with little interaction with the ‘outside world’. Your world was your life and marriage with Astarion, and you had been happy with that arrangement for many centuries.

In turn, Astarion had relatively little experience handling his own emotions when it came to seeing you outside the safety of your home. You could sense his discomfort when you weren’t in his line of view; his anxieties would only grow into frustration from there: if you were so far Astarion couldn’t detect your scent, you were to expect his constant presence in your mind, especially after what happened on the hunt.

There was one day Astarion had interrupted your training session because he wanted to be with you. Chae and several of the others giggled when you had obeyed, earning them a wretched glare from Astarion.

“Who were they laughing at?” Astarion asked as you sat in his lap, your back pressed to his muscular form; he smoothed your hair with his free hand as his other arm was wrapped around you, wrist in your mouth as you fed on his delicious essence. He had to ask you twice to get you to answer.

“Me, mostly. Chae and Quinel laugh because they think I’m a pleasure slave to you. Marg’o giggles only because she finds you dashing.Many of them don’t realize I can read their thoughts and hear their whispers.”

Astarion had only hummed in reply before flawlessly maneuvering your weight in his hands, putting his sweet little consort whenever he needed her to be.

****

It takes Astarion far longer than you’d anticipated to explain the death of the spawn to you. After he told you not to fret over it, you decided to listen, leaving it in the back of your busy mind for another day.

But when Astarion finally tells you the dead spawn is Marwa, you understand what has happened.

“You’ve been spying back on Moth.” Your tone is accusatory, but you knew there was no other reason why Marwa could have been killed in such a way: she must have been caught, and was left out in the sun to burn.

You had already decided not to chide Astarion about refusing to grant the other spawn his gifts. You already knew that was a generally ‘off-limits’ topic for the Ancuníns.

You and Astarion sit cross legged on your bed facing each other, knee to knee. Ever since Astarion had somehow managed to have the gith find the two of you your own room, separate from your underlings, it had allowed for more open and intimate contact.

It had been good for you, because there wasn’t anything you wanted more than to be in Astarion’s arms after a long day. But it had been…not so good for Astarion, who was beginning to only crave you more, his resentment for this entire journey only increasing as the days went on. Especially when his sending stone never stopped pinging; at some point, Astarion would have to tuck it away, ignoring the messages of the empire and likely whatever communication the spawn would have with him telepathically.

You knew there was far more at play than you realized. You had just never really cared before; not for a very long time, anyways.

Astarion massages your fingers and palms. Although your vampiric regeneration would ensure no lasting injuries, it didn’t exclude you from feeling stiff: you were undead, after all, and being stiff just came with the territory.

But your use of so many unpracticed muscles in such a short amount of time had you aching in ways you had forgotten.

“You need to stretch more,” Astarion says as he stews over the Marwa discussion. He began to inspect your nails, his fingers gently tugging on your joints. “It’s a shame that you prefer to use your gorgeous hands in battle. It makes you smell more gith than I’d like.”

You roll your eyes. “Everywhere smells like gith. We're at a crèche, darling.”

Astarion narrows his eyes at you, suddenly looking focused. “What else am I to do? How else am I to gather information?” You were back to Marwa. “Maybe you don’t realize, my darling, that Marwa has been a spy for me for half a millenia. I’ve sent her on countless missions. She’s been to Moth’s estate many times.”

“And now she’s dead.” A part of you thinks about Marwa, and you realize you didn’t know anything about her beyond what her capabilities and usefulness to Astarion was. Hmm.

Astarion laughs. “You’re not wrong, but by the gods are you adorable when you worry about our little family.”

Astarion brings his head towards your palm, planting a kiss in its center before moving his way up your wrist, motioning you underneath him as his pretty lips trail their way to your neck, leaving you feeling tingly at the sensation.

You pull away, narrowing your eyes at him. “You don’t take me seriously, do you?”

“Come now, pet, why do you say that? Do you really mean to criticize how I choose to protect our family? To protect what’s mine?” Astarion playfully plants kisses on your cheek—you feel the flutter of his lashes on your temple, making you shiver from the closeness.

“No, I just…I don’t want the situation to become worse. What if he finds us here?” Your eyes are wide as he moves to meet your gaze. Astarion is scowling.

“Why are you even thinking about these things, Tav? Do you not trust me to protect you?” But Astarion stops there, because he recognizes your apprehension: a feeling similar to the unease you felt before Lae’zel’s arrival.

That unease that was connected to your psychic foresight, the one you were born with that seemingly amplified once you turned into a vampire—the very one that Astarion was now silently cursing for its uselessness.

“A spawn has never died before.” You emphasize this, that in the two millennia of your vampiric lives, firsts don’t often occur.

“Yes, and?” Astarion’s thinking he’s already handled everything and doesn’t understand your upset.

“I’m a spawn. If Moth can kill Marwa—“

Astarion places two fingers atop the plump of your lip, preventing you from speaking further. He’s shushing you, but you grab his wrist and pull his hand away, your eyes burning with frustration as you bring yourself back up to a seat, Astarion allowing you to maneuver freely.

“Don’t hush me like that, I-I don’t like that.” You think about how the other day, Joss kept interrupting you during your tracking lesson. It annoyed you to no end, and it particularly penetrated your cool exterior when Astarion did it.

Astarion blinks at you, surprised that you corrected his behavior. You often told him what you wanted, but that was about material things, like servants and dresses and invitations (once, long ago, you had to tell Astarion to stop inviting Lord Renald to your parties. That man stank to the high heavens despite all the gaudy perfume he wore.) but not often (if ever) about intimate things, such as how Astarion touched you.

Astarion was the one who decided that: by whom and how you were touched. There wasn’t any part of your body unexplored or off-limits to him.

Astarion’s eyes are dark as he rests his hand on your chest, index finger gently caressing your collarbone. “And I didn’t like the way you were speaking.”

“I am your spawn, though. You call me that often enough, you remind me often.”

Astarion brings his hand to cup your jaw, urging you to meet his gaze. “We’ve discussed this before, do we really need to go over it again? You’re my consort. My wife. You are the only one who has supped my blood.”

“But you were created for me,” Astarion directs at you as his lips find yours once again, his tongue seemingly desperate to be inside your mouth. You think maybe he just wants you to stop talking, but his hardened cock does make you realize his intentions aren’t all that calculated.

But Astarion, no stranger to understanding the value in communicating with his consort, reluctantly brings his lips away from the only object he truly desires. “You are mine, Tav. It doesn’t matter what you are, only that I’ve given everything I possibly could to you, since the very moment we became beholden to one another back at Moonrise Towers.”

This was entirely true, and it softens you a bit. Astarion, seeing the way your eyes open and your mouth parts, those cute little fangs he gave you peeking out from the plush pads of your pretty lips; he can no longer help himself, and decides he needs to be inside of you, because it had been far too long for the living vampire to have been without his wife in his arms.

Astarion’s lips find purchase on yours once more: they are sloppy, uncontrolled, his desire for you running to his very core. It was like it was in his very nature to love you.

“You’re far stronger than the spawn are. And you're always under my especially watchful eye, as you know. How lucky you are, I made you my bride.” Astarion is nearly lost in the bliss of your body as he pushes you on your back, bringing the hem of your nightgown up to accommodate himself between your legs.

You’re cursing yourself for being panty-less, because the moment Astarion has access to your holes, he’s searching, his fingers desperate to be inside your body.

“Then why do you call me that?” Your voice comes between your fervent, fractured kisses, which halts to a pause once you’ve asked your question. It doesn’t stop Astarion from sinking a finger between your folds, his eyes watching you as you take him.

Astarion lifts your dress above your breasts, a sight he particularly loved. He removes his finger to drink in the sight of you.

There was something about seeing his darling girl, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from his blood, with something so innocent as a modest nightgown pushed away without a care in the world, exposing you to him as if he was in a hurry. As if he was taking you like a thief in the night, desperate not to be caught.

Like you were a sweet little secret of his.

Astarion tugs at your hardening nipple, but you ease yourself up on your elbows, eyebrows knitted together in a frustrated, reluctant pleasure.

“I’m trying to say something serious, Astarion…” You say as he moves himself to your dripping cunt, his head resting on your thigh as he gently tugs the folds of your labia, spreading them, exposing your swollen clit and tight entrance; only breaking eye contact to take in the sight of your open sex.

“And we’ll work it out, my love,” Astarion mewls, his racing heartbeat and dilated pupils making it apparent that this was a man, who, although his enthusiastic passion for fucking his wife was admirable, had no real intention of addressing the problem anymore.

Lost in the sauce. An odd phrase you had heard from Zii’ro and Joss. This must be an iteration of the meaning of that phrase.

He begins to crawl up to you, but you place your foot on his chest, pushing him away as your enchanted anklets clank together, creating a little chime at your movement. This stopped him in his tracks, but he only looks even more turned on from your denial.

You realize the little foot move might’ve been a mistake. This man would likely find a way to fuck it: if it was attached to you, he’d find a way.

Astarion swiftly frees his cock with one hand, the other gripping your ankle as he brings your foot down to his shaft, rubbing his length on your arch.

“You are such a freak,” you say, shaking your head, having nearly forgotten your plight as you try pulling your ankle away from him. “This is hardly ‘working it out’.”

“What is it that you want, then?” Astarion says as he grabs your other ankle, dragging your hips to him before pressing his body between your legs, both hands tangling in your hair as his hard cock rests on your lower belly, balls on your soaked center. “You know you need only ask, my sweet consort.”

You felt the wet lips of your cunt nearly suckling on his skin, the friction of its increasing slickness due to the mess you were making on him sending a shiver throughout your body.

His ruby eyes glittered with lust, his curls falling down the sides of his face; his breath on you smelled so good, evident of the life inside of him, making your stomach growl at the mere thought of his crimson essence.

Fuck and feed, you think. Focus, you animal!

Lae’zel had told you to be direct with your warriors. To tell them of the expectations and goals. Why couldn’t this extend to your relationship?

“I don’t want you to call me spawn anymore,” You say as you do your best to keep your voice from wavering under his intense glare.

“You’ve a lot of interesting demands today, don’t you, my love?” Astarion speaks evenly, considering your words. “You act as though I say that anywhere but in private. As I’ve said, you aren’t just some spawn. But you are a spawn of mine: my offspring. It’s one of the countless things I adore about you. It’s what makes you so perfect to me, so perfect for me.”

You take an involuntary breath, gasping as he comes to plant his lips on yours, nipping at your skin just enough to draw blood, to taste your essence before he languidly plunges his tongue in your mouth.

You moan into him, his words inspiring something deep within you, but you still aren’t satisfied.

“Besides, you know why. It gets my cock hard to hear you call me ‘Master’, and you don’t seem to mind it,” He teases, his tone still playful, but his words rooted in a painful truth. “Especially when you want something. So why should I not be able to call you ‘spawn’ in turn?”

You were guilty of using the term to butter him up, that much was true. “I just don’t like it. Do I need a reason other than It hurts my feelings? That should be enough for you.”

Astarion sighs. “You know I will give you what you desire. But why now? What’s changed?”

“I’ve never liked it, as you very well know.” You darken with these words, and it reflects in Astarion, who is feeling a pang of guilt that he doesn’t hide. “Lae’zel taunts me with it, countless of the gith categorize me as such, as if it’s a weakened state, that I’m a pitiful thing for being your spawn. And now, with Marwa dead…” Tears threaten your eyes, but you and Astarion don’t break eye contact: the two of you're locked into a state so deep, you couldn’t pull away if you tried. But you’re choked up now, and you can’t really speak.

Being able to telepathically communicate with your lover at any given time was a blessing. “I feel weak, Astarion. I know I can trust you to protect me. I just wish I commanded the same respect I once did: the same respect you have.”

Astarion props himself up, curls falling out of place as he gazes down at you, handsome as ever. His ruby eyes are wide, open and receptive, but disturbed by what you’d told him.

“If that’s truly how you feel, my love, then we can surely command their respect by slaughtering every last one of them and ending this silly war ourselves. We’d be doing Vlaakith a favor.” Astarion’s nose crinkles and twists in anger. “They surely wouldn’t be disrespecting my wife with their last breaths. Maybe contemplating your neverending beauty. But honestly, that might not be palatable to me either.”

“No—that’s certainly not what I meant!” You exclaim, your hand flying to Astarion’s chest, pausing over the strong beat of his heart.

“I know, Tav,” Astarion says, his tone playful and knowing as his hand wraps around his cock, bringing it back from its half-hardened state. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Astarion rolls onto his back, signaling you between his legs, where you begin to kiss his taut abdomen, worshiping his sculpted form with your lips and tongue. “But only if you make love to me with your mouth, my darling girl.”

****

“The celebration begins tomorrow, Ancunín,” Kith’rak Elan chides at your beloved. “Where is your wife this morning, I wonder?”

You chose not to squeak at him, despite Astarion daring you.

”Safely nestled inside my pocket, Kith’rak. Laundry day; you know how it is.” You imagine the smirk Astarion must have on his face as he pets the top of your head with the tip of his finger. You were nestled against his chest inside his pocket, not wanting to be disturbed today.

You had become mentally exhausted over the course of the two tenday you had been at the crèche; between the rigorous training, the meetings, all the interaction—it had burnt you out.

Dealing with your battalion had been a chore—no, a nightmare. There was one night where you and Astarion held each other while you scanned his memories of the gith you had met two thousand years ago. You both agreed that the gith raised under Orpehus’s banner were only slightly more tolerant of outsiders than Vlaakith’s gith, and seemingly more ignorant.

Zii’ro’s questions had been incessant, and the others had started to join in. You enjoyed answering them and telling them stories, but after a while, it was difficult for you to handle this.

You could always hear their heartbeats, and mortals have a tendency to get rather close to you when they speak, so their scent also becomes known to you. But you swallowed your darker thoughts away, focusing on the sound of their voice and their facial animations. Astarion had taught you to do this, to help you fit in, to make you look a little less feral: he had learned it so long ago, so much earlier on in his life than you, that he had long been a natural.

Watching them was the best way to learn and (one of) the best way(s) to distract yourself. The more time you spent with your warriors, the more they accepted you, even for your strange quirks: the things you couldn’t quite imitate.

“Is it hard for you to keep up with the facade of life, Tav?” Quinel had asked you one day after a long day of training; Lae’zel and Elan had helped your warriors adapt to your fighting style, and it had greatly improved how you interacted with each other in sparring. You hoped it would translate well to the battlefield.

Quinel certainly had a way with words. Not an elegant one, that’s for sure.

”You see me struggle, do you not?” You ask, a bit annoyed at the question. It was obviously difficult for you, and you didn’t understand exactly what they were asking.

”I suppose. But I want to know more about it.” Quinel had hardly spoken, so you wanted to encourage this communication, but damn were they direct.

You didn’t think there was much to tell. “If you are more comfortable around me, then I am more comfortable around you.” The less your heart races, the less I want to eat you.

“I am relieved your blinking has improved,” Chae mused as she sharpened one of her many daggers.

”Good. That’s the point.” You had given her a curt nod, signaling that the conversation was over: but that hadn’t prevented Zii’ro and Joss from asking more questions not even ten minutes later.

To no-one’s surprise, Astarion treated his group much like he treated his spawn: detached, firm, direct. They seemed to accept him well enough, and they certainly respected him. The Kith’rak was pleased with you and Astarion’s performance, despite your little hiccup during the hunt.

The Kith’rak merely hums at Astarion’s reply before continuing with whatever he would go on about. Pressing up against Astarion’s warmth, the thump of his beating heart fills your sensitive ears. You fight the urge to tear through the fabric of his clothing and plunge your little fangs in his soft skin.

****

The night before the banquet, Astarion buries his cock in you just because he felt he needed to be there. He was moving only every once in a while, your juices accumulating from the sensation, until you were ravenous and dripping around his wide cock.

You lie on top of him, straddling him, chest flush against his. He’s holding you so desperately close, you were lucky you didn’t need to breathe.

He rubs his cheek on you, leaving kisses in their wake wherever his lips could place them, hands keeping your squirming body in place to prevent your hips from rocking into him.

You were so desperate to come, you felt the lower rumble in your belly as your orgasm grew to a precipice, only for it to retreat from lack of stimulation. You groan in frustration, causing Astarion to chuckle before he captures your lips.

His tongue is soft, hot, his touches gentle with you on this night; the two of you had been pulled away from each other more and more, assigned to various duties, seminars, and training exercises: the gith were busy people.

“It’s so good to be with you again,” Astarion expertly titillated your mind with your link, causing you to clench around him. “Spending all day with these gith is becoming increasingly insufferable. After this is all over, we’ll be spending another decade in the boudoir, I think.”

Something depraved inside of you wants this: to be kept as his little toy for a while, having no responsibilities, no pain or stress, just pure enjoyment of your choosing (reading, writing, drinking blood: all of your favorite things, of course) and the most delicious orgasms you could imagine given to you by the most beautiful man in all the realms.

To go back to the way things were, really.

But you were starting to like this taste of freedom: it made these intimate moments with your husband even sweeter, even more precious, but you weren’t sure Astarion agreed.

Astarion’s hand reaches for your ass, squeezing as his other hand finds the root of your hair, bringing you into an unbreakable kiss.

“Please,” You moan, unable to return Astarion’s casuality. “I want to come, my love, please…”

He’s been selfish with you: your time, your body.

“Focus, I’m trying to be serious, here.” He’s mocking you a bit, merely in jest, and you think it would hamper your desperation, but you only clench around his cock as you bring your hand to his jaw, your grip firm as you bear down on him. Testing your limits, you push yourself away from him, bringing yourself up right.

Hand still gripping Astarion’s chin, you give him the most salacious, most abhorrently whorish look you can muster as you move to rock into him, and to your surprise, he lets you. He’s practically drooling at the sight of you: full lips parted, his ruby eyes bright but lowered with passion, silver curls slicked back behind his pointed ears.

You don’t last long before you’re contracting and creaming around Astarion’s cock, your muscles squeezing his member with fervency. You and Astarion had had every type of sex, all sorts of ways: eternity sure gives you time to explore and expand your sexual interests.

But rarely did you take control and find your own pleasure in him, and gods did he think you looked perfect writhing atop him, cunt clenching as you whimpered his name.

“So beautiful. I adore you. I fucking adore you Tav. Forever.” There is an intensity in his eyes, and he feels the words in his chest as he communicates them to you. It makes your heart flutter and bloom within you, and your soon cunt follows suit, convulsing around his wide cock.

“I love you too,” You mewl as you’re nearing the end of your climax, his eyes softening at the words he so desperately wants to hear.

You stop fucking him after a while, exhausted from your intense orgasm. Astarion picks up where you left off, in your poor little cummed-out state, grabbing you by the hips before continuing to rut into you.

You’ve collapsed on his chest at this point, but Astarion doesn’t stop. He cradles you into him, encouraging you to bring your knees up as far as they’d go, resting at either side of his torso. The tip of his cock is pushing at your depths, making you tremble in your beloved’s arms.

“Oh—my love,” Astarion whispers into your ear: you hardly register it, your brain fuzzy from both your recovering and impending orgasm.

When Astarion finally comes inside you, the warmth of his seed filling your tight hole to the brim nearly makes you crave more, but you don’t think you could if you tried.

But your husband still seemed to have some energy left in him. He lays you on your back, his hands going underneath your knees to pull your thighs up and apart, so he could see his spend inside your fucked out hole.

Astarion’s lips parted at the sight of his thick, creamy come spilling out of you as the smell of musk, sex, and sweat lingered the room.

To you, Astarion’s natural body odor was the most exquisite perfume, other than his crimson bouquet, of course.

“You aren’t going to let me fuck it again, are you?” Astarion asked, eyebrow raised, the corner of his lips tilted in a hint of a smile.

You shake your head, still recovering from the thorough fucking he’d given you. Your eyes widened at the thought that Astarion wasn’t done with you.

“And lucky for me, my beautiful darling has two other serviceable holes for me,” Astarion says as he presses a finger to your ringed entrance, your cunt contracting at the pressure.

“Oh you are so cute,” He dotes at your reaction to his prodding, preparing you for his cock; it isn’t long before he’s filled you once more.

Astarion cleans the both of you up before turning his back to you, grabbing your arm to pull around himself. He wants you to hold him tonight. You rest your forehead on his back, placing gentle kisses on his flesh as you wrap your body around him, one leg between his as he interlocks his fingers with your own.

You breathe in his scent, that musky, earthy smell of sex and sweat filling your nose. You lick your lips, tasting his salty fluids on your tongue. The warmth of his skin was like a sanctuary to you, and you squeezed him, holding him to you preciously.

You still had an inkling of fear tucked away; you pushed it further back to the recesses of your mind as you began drifting off into a dreamless, peaceful slumber. The sound of Astarion’s beating heart thrums in your ears like the soothing sound of the ocean, or rain on pavement, and it carries you off into the twilight dark.

Astarion wakes the both of you up early to prepare for the banquet: the Ancunín’s were to always look their best, and who better than to help you look gorgeous if not for your beloved? And your lady servant, of course.

“I think the pink is too gaudy.” Astarion says with a finger and thumb rest on his chin: he was deeply focused, on what you couldn't be sure, but it certainly wasn’t the color of the dress. He remained fairly present, so you left him to his thoughts. “Washes you out too much, dear. It’s offensive that a color is able to do that to you, my beautiful darling, but alas.”

You survey yourself in the mirror once more: you think Astarion is right, and it makes you wonder why you ever bought the dress at all.

“A themed party, love. You remember Lady Danet? Fear not, her ‘pink’ parties can’t hurt you anymore,” Astarion is smirking, thinking how funny he is. He’s remembering you, dressed in all pink, a little frown on your face as you adjust to the tight corset Lady Danet required her female guests to wear. You simply didn’t think you looked good in pink, and to no surprise, you and every other woman in the world hated wearing a fucking corset. Except for Lady Danet, you think, the odd woman that she was. That had been some fifty years ago, and Lady Danet was long in the grave, now.

“Cynthia?” She was a servant, but you chose her for her gentle personality, obedience and competence, and her eye and honesty for styling you. She was almost as good as Bethild.

“I agree with our Lord. I think a red or a green would suit you better, my lady.” Cynthia says, pondering for a moment. “Pink is very in, which is why I chose it milady, but I hadn’t really thought about what would be fashionable for gith.”

It was still lost on you why the pink dress was even thrown into the fray: but no matter. After trying on several others, you realize Astarion is a million miles away, no longer focused on you at all.

The look on his face gradually became dire. Just as you felt like you had found ‘the one’ (a beautiful emerald silken gown that showed off your shoulders and cinched at the waist) Astarion looked at you, his eyes wide and his brows furrowed.

You realize he’s leaving the crèche before he says a word. His eyes suddenly become misty, glassy, but he doesn’t hide it from you. Cynthia immediately feels the shift in mood and swiftly makes her exit.

Astarion’s sending stone is pinging off in the distance. The two of you stay like this, words hanging between you, listening to the sending stone ping over and over and over…

Masterlist

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 6.

#ascended astarion x you #ascended astarion #ascended!astarion #spawn tav #soft ascended astarion #ascended astarion x tav #astarion smut #ascended astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion fanfic #Killing Time

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myfandomprompts · 11 months

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Is there anything left for us? || Will (Salad Days) || (1/2)

Will x Reader

Warnings: nsfw, swearing, angst, mention of alcohol, smut Summary: You've been struggling with your feelings for Will for years. Then he calls you after the worst mistake of his life and you feel the world crumble around you. A/N: I'm trying something that has been going around in my mind for quite sometimes. Please see it more as an essay about Salad Days and my vision of Will. Sorry for the length... I just wanted to share my love for this short that I find very good, story wise, many included arcs so it give Will reasons and depth for his actions. It was just so good. I realise that my writing are not for everyone. In any case, part one is more to be seen as an "essay" about the character, but part 2 is more story inclined.

You missed him, but over the years, you had learned to get used to it.

Will had always been a lone wolf kind of guy, and when he disappeared like that you knew that it was because he didn't want to be bothered, or to be found. You tried to respect that at most of your capacities, to give him the space he needed to deal with whatever he had going on.

Even back in high school when you watched him from afar, the cocky guy at the back of the class with his group of troublesome friends, you could see how much he felt rejected, out of place. It was no secret that he had complicated family issues and he hated it when people brought it up. So no one dared to. Only when you befriended him during the last year of high school did you realise how complicated it truly was.

He didn't know his father, and what happened with his mum was a mystery to everyone. Ever since that time, he had lived with his grandmother and you had never seen Will care for someone as much as he cared for her. It was touching and sweet, making you wonder if his nan was the only family affection he had ever known. If he were to lose her, he would be alone.

There was that eagerness within him, the one that craved affection, the one that longed to erase this feeling of loneliness that weighed inside of him. You witnessed it with the girls he fell for every once in a while, in the fleeting relationships and obsessions he experienced with the occasional gal, and each time it ended badly, because Will was Will: wild, hot-blooded and strong-willed.

But he was the most resourceful man you've ever encountered, always finding solutions, always taking advantage of what he thought he could, and always taking the lead when needed to. You admired that in him, this raw strength smothering his weaknesses, heightening his confidence, but sometimes you feared that his habit to always act with his head down first would play to his disadvantage one day. Because where he could be shy at times, often keeping to himself when he felt he did not have the upper hand, he could also be as keen to make rash decisions, his pride and stubbornness taking the better of him. And sometimes it affected the people around him.

And that included Leah. And you.

In high school you have always regarded Will, Matt, and Tom as the troublesome trio, so in the last year when Leah, your best friend, got close to Matt, all that was left for you to do was to follow. You became the added part of the group, doomed to see how all the boys would find Leah endearing and sweet, whereas you tried to remain unimpressed by them and wary of their actions because you were “stubborn as hell”, as Leah often put it. But the more Matt and your friend grew close over the years, the more you warmed up to them, finding them sympathetic, nice and caring. And definitely funny. And you liked to believe that they liked you as well.

It was around that time that you came to know Will better and realise everything he was carrying on his shoulders, too heavy for him to handle for someone so young. You could see it in the way he avoided some topics in conversations, how he sometimes paced around a room without paying any mind to his friends, or how sulky he seemed to become every time you all talked about the future or how a member of your family had reacted to this or that.

It attracted you somehow, this double side of his. The strong, tall, and proud man he was versus the reserved one with anguish, hidden behind the boiling rage he displayed at times. So you opened up to him, more than to the others, your heart desperate to know his, to see if you could do anything to help him, to make him feel like he didn't need to prove anything to anyone. At first he was surprised that a girl like you, all serious and phlegmatic, would take an interest in him, but you had some humour in you and he did find you funny. Besides, you didn't take any shit from anyone, especially from the guys, and neither did Leah, shutting down each time they teased both of you or made gruesome jokes you were not very fond of. But each time, Will or Matt would stop, seeing that you were not very receptive and proceed to do something you liked, right before you would tease them back, surprising them and making them laugh as well. Your coldness toward them slowly thawed within months.

You liked to believe Will admired that in you too, how you were able to put them off this easily.

High school ended and everybody stuck around; none of you were willing to venture out and all of you had a project of your own. You knew the guys were applying for several jobs, Leah had found one in a fish and chips for a while, whereas you would take online classes and tutoring students on the side.

And as your group grew forever closer, trying for your part to see through Will as much as you could over time, slowly but surely, you were doomed to see how his eyes shifted whenever he would look at your best friend.

It was so obvious you wondered why Matt hadn't noticed it before, even back in high school. Matt and Leah had got together right after the end of the year, and you believed that only Will’s well-hidden insecurities had prevented him from going after Leah first. Or maybe he knew that his friend had liked her for a long time and chose not to interfere, you didn't know. Still, you could see how Will would look away or look too intensely when Matt and Leah were together, holding hands or kissing, and only you and Tom would joke about it. Not Will. Never Will.

More often than not, it would only be you and Will; Matt and Leah would be off together, having some alone time, and Tom would be off with his family. You would go to his place, talk with his nan, give her news about Leah and your friends, about your family, and then spend time with Will, reminiscing about high school or talking about your lives. You had a lot in common, from playing video games you both like to make fun of the dumb British celebrities on reality shows, even sometimes organising a contest of darts in his basement. You, always so confident that you would win, versus Will, being exactly the same. It always ended similarly, a tied game, as you both were equally stubborn.

When you were still at your parent’s, he would often ditch your group when you invited the whole of them but did not come, and you wondered if it was too hard for Will to be inside of a happy home, one he did not have. But you quickly abandoned this theory, because when you invited Will to come over when the rest was not around, he always came, spending whole afternoons and evenings with you, for the greatest pleasure of your little sister that adored him. And you could not blame her. At nine years old, she would always come to him and he would always joke with her and carry her around, with a blush on her cheeks, and you would watch, their laughter warming your heart.

Now that you had your own flat, he still came, but less often. You and Leah knew the guys were always hanging out together, doing who knows what, but it didn’t prevent you from missing them dearly. Recently, Matt and Leah had gone through a rough patch, and you had to admit that you had feared for their relationship more than once in the past couple of weeks. You didn’t want your friend to be miserable, and you would do what you could to prevent that.

This is why the bonfire party from three weeks ago had been a relief to you, happy to finally see all of your group together again at the rim of the forest outside of the city, perched on the hills where you could watch the stars and make as much noise as you wanted. But as the night went on and the alcohol claimed your blood, you hadn’t expected Leah and Matt to argue again in the middle of it all, and more importantly, you hadn’t expected for yourself to have an argument with him, for the first time of your life.

The words he had shot at you still rang in your ears, as yours felt like poison, something not of your own but that you have uttered nonetheless. He had come to you with worries about Leah again, about how unhappy she seemed to be, and you couldn’t help it. All you heard in his worries was his own hope that they would grow apart, and this time you had been unable to hide your jealousy, ignoring him and growling in annoyance. When he asked what was wrong with you, you only lied to him and assured him that you were fine. But he didn’t like that.

“You always fucking do that, try to pretend like nothing bothers you but it’s bullshit,” he had suddenly shouted, crushing his cigarette under his shoe. “What are you fucking afraid of exactly Y/N, hm? Maybe you should grow some and start telling me!”

You had turned around in shock, the alcohol and the weight in your heart heightening your frustration and anger.

“I’m not afraid of telling you anything! And you’re the one to talk, always hiding things, closing off to me. You hide more from me than I have ever hidden from you, don’t you dare think I don’t know that.”

You earned an annoyed from from Will, lined with guilt, his tongue running across his teeth while you waited for him to respond, to say anything.

“I get it, you don’t need to tell me anything, but don’t blame me for keeping things from you that hurts, because it does Will!” you had confessed with tears threatening to appear at the rim of your eyes. “Just… Just don’t even bother.”

And with that you had turned around toward the cars, clearly remembering the way Will’s arm had caught yours in an attempt to stop you, but you only ignored it and left the field, the party, and your friends behind.

The day after that, you learned everything from your phone call to Leah as she recounted this painful night to you in more detail, telling you how Matt had ignored her for most of the night before leaving, making her feel abandoned and alone. Then she told you that Will had been the one to come to her, to comfort her, and the knot in your stomach tightened. When you pressed a little, she shamefully confessed Will had kissed her.

You couldn’t say that you weren’t surprised, but you made a great effort not to let anything appear in your voice. She continued, telling you that she had pushed Will away as nicely as she could, that she felt awfully guilty, that Matt was all she cared about and that it all seemed like a blur to her. You tried to reassure her, telling her that it was not her fault, that it meant nothing along as apologising for not being there for her when it happened. In your upset state, you hadn’t been able to stay, and you now regretted that you hadn’t. You would make it up to her, bury those feelings that clung to your heart and tried to ignore the pain you felt for Will at his rejection. Or was it your pain? You didn’t know.

Whatever happened seemed to have awoken something within Leah because two days later she was back with Matt, stronger than ever. Now it has been three weeks, and you have started a very busy week with work, three weeks without a word from Will. When you popped by Leah’s work when you could she would tell you that she had seen the three of your friends, and you tried not to ask about Will.

Two days later, Leah called and told you that she was pregnant. You congratulated her but you heard the anguish in her voice, so you tried to sooth her as much as you could. She would be all right, you knew it.

You wondered how Will had reacted.

Then it all escalated.

One minute you were working at home, trying to focus, the next you received a text from Will, breaking these three weeks of silence between the two of you:“Can you come get me Y/N please.”

You frown, heart beating because it was him, and because it was the last message you would have expected.

Where are you? you typed black.

Idk, somewhere near the bonfire’s place.

Memories of that night float back in your mind, anguish taking hold of you but you gathered yourself.

What are you doing there? you reply, heart beating.

I walked… just come Y/N please.

Will, what’s going on?

He didn’t answer. It was beginning to get dark outside, and you wondered what the hell he was doing, walking all the way up there. Part of you did not want to find out, but it was Will, and he never asked for anything, or very rarely. It did not matter how you felt, or how you two had left things off. All that mattered was that he was your friend and he was asking for your help.

So you shot up from your chair, grabbed your keys and left your apartment.

When you arrived in the area, having called Will three times during your drive there, unanswered, it was almost dark and you could not see very far. But like drawn to something you could not see, you found him on the first path you turned to, ahead, near the trees, not far from where you both had that argument, near a fallen log. He was on the ground, head in his knees and you tried not to feel the uneasiness overtaking you. You see him acknowledge your car as you hesitate to turn the engine off, leaving your lights on and stopping right next to him, exiting the vehicle as you carefully watch him.

“Will? What the hell? What is going on?” you call, levelling with him. “Will?”

He didn’t answer, his nose buried in his sleeve and watching the void, glancing so briefly at you. You crouch down, raising a hand to cautiously put on his shoulder. You could sense the sorrow and the anguish from where you stood, and you grew worried for your friend. You never wanted to see him like this, never. Whatever it was, you would do anything to make it okay.

You lower your voice. “Will… talk to me.”

He meets your gaze, his blue eyes reddened by sorrow or anger. Unable to look at you more he withdraws his gaze at once, cracking under your eyes as he buries his head in his arms once more, a deep trembling sigh coming from him. You put both of your hands on his, coming closer, desperate to sooth him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe.”

You hear him taking deep shaky breaths, steeling himself. You put your chin on his elbow that was supported by his knee, waiting for him, close enough now to notice the red marks that scorched his knuckles, the marks of a fight, something ugly, violent. What happened?

From your position you can feel how cold his hands are and you wonder how long he had been out there. You watch him through your eyelashes, breathing with him, stroking his skin with your thumb as you think fast, his hair tickling your face.

“Come on, let’s get you out of the cold,” you timidly suggest, not moving as you observe the way his chest heaves. Then he silently moves to get up and you give him space, leading him carefully to the passenger seat.

You had to swallow the worry in your throat. His gaze was less hooded, firmer, but still miles away from where you were. You open the door for him and take your place behind the wheel, watching him look miserable beside you.

“Ok, let’s get you home, then we’ll talk about this, yeah?”

You release the handbrake before he talks for the first time, his voice hoarse with his evident turmoil. “No, not there, not home. Anywhere else... Your place,” he said, and you stopped your movements, looking at him expectantly. “I just… I can’t go to her right now.”

You watched him for a moment longer before nodding silently, driving away. His cheeks were reddened by the biting cold outside and the warmth of his skin, riled up from his sorrow.

“Are you hurt?” you ask, eyes on the road.

You hear him click his tongue, shaking his head as he grabs his knuckles. “Nah…”

He takes his head in his hands again, passing his fingers in his hair before starting to rock his knee anxiously. He would do that when something was on his mind, but never with a shaking sigh.

“Why were you there?” you ask softly,taking the opportunity now that he seemed more responsive, even if it was just barely.

“I just walked… I didn’t care where. Didn’t want to be found.”

His last words were only whispered, and as you turned a corner to enter the city again, he dug himself back into the seat, putting his hood up and stilled, although his leg continued to bounce up and down.

You pulled onto your street and turned off the engine. “What happened Will…? You can talk to me. Please talk to me.”

He lowers his head, looking at the inside of his palms. You could not see his face, hidden by the hood. “I did sumethin’… I can’t take back.”

You swallow, turning to him. “Whatever it is, we’ll make it right. We’ve always handled ourselves. You and the guys always managed.”

Your words seemed to aggravate him, because he looked briefly in pain before getting out of the car, eager to get away.

When you reach your flat door without a word exchanged between you, trying to catch up with his agitated pace, he goes straight inside, going to the couch to sit in it, hood off and head entrapped in his hands again.

You were eager to take away his sorrow, but you can’t think of anything to say. You go grab some things in the bathroom and come back to sit on the couch next to him and take his bloodied hand. He doesn’t flinch at your touch at all, it seems to even ground him, his gaze now on how you disinfect the wounds and bandage each of his hands. His lips are drawn in a thin line, his breath heavy but less rattled.

It looks like it hurt, maybe he had fractured a bone you wondered, but he didn’t wince, didn’t make a sound. You do not let go of his hand at first, your way of telling him that you would take anything he was willing to give you. He caressed your hand back absent-mindedly in return, gaze lost at the motion before he sank into the couch.

“Don’t tell anyone I’m here,” he whispers.

“Why?”

He doesn’t respond at once, still looking miserable. “Just don’t Y/N, alright?” he snaps, his blue eyes reaching right through your soul, raising the fear in you.

“You’re gonna give me more than that, I want to help you.”

“You can’t help me.”

“Then why did you call me?"

Silence again, just him clenching his jaw and you searching his face thoroughly, for anything that he would let you see, to indicate what he needed. You knew him. Better than you would admit, and better than he realised. You just thought that he refused to acknowledge it.

“Because you would know where to find me. And that you wouldn’t judge me, or fucking push me away like everyone else did. At least that’s what I thought…”

“I won’t, okay? I won’t tell anyone you’re here, and I won’t push you away, never again,” you promise, your argument lingering between the two of you. “But I don’t want to see you like this, Will. It’s terrifying. Please talk to me.”

He looks at you with sorry eyes, almost desperate. “That’s exactly why I can’t tell you. Because you would be fucking terrified of me if I did. And I can’t have that. I fucking can’t have that.”

You frown again, parting your lips in dismay. You could never be afraid of him, it was Will, and you knew perfectly well what he was capable of. You have been ready for anything, all those years.

“Not a chance, Will. Look at me,” you ask, forcing him to level eyes with you by tugging on his arm, one side of your face resting on the back of the couch as he turned his own, inches apart from each other. “I just want to help you.”

He observes you for a painfully long time, wide blue eyes digging into yours, but he still seemed unconvinced, making your heart ache a bit. He sighs, a stressful grunt coming out of him. “I don’t know what to do right now. I shouldn’t even have fucking called you. It just fucked up so bad.”

“What went bad?” you quickly press.

His tone drastically changes, like he was hesitant to even talk. “I fucked up, Y/N. I really did.”

“Ok, let’s just… Take a breath, think about it,” you gesture, hoping that he would calm himself and see more clearly. You knew him, and right now, he would blame the world as well as himself, too proud to admit anything. He needed to see that he was safe with you.

He only straightened up and ran his fingers through his hair again, putting distance between the both of you in the process. The night had settled outside, and it felt like you had not progressed at all with him. You settled on the idea of allowing him space, to wait.

“You can spend the night here Will okay? Just… take a step back. Gather your thoughts”

He doesn’t answer you, so you decide it safe enough to go to the kitchen, maybe bring him back a glass of water and let him come to you, like he did before. Once alone near the sink you take a look at your phone and you widen your eyes at the three missed calls from Leah and seven of her texts, all roughly the same content.

“Y/N, where are you? Tom is in detention, he got arrested for robbery or something.”

“What?” you instantly reply, eyes glued to the screen as you await her response.

“Yeah, the post office thing. Y/N I’m freaking out, I’ve not heard from Matt in hours and he is not answering. I don’t know what to do.”

You thought about calling her for a minute, but you chose not to, not trusting that you would be able to remain calm, and something about a post office rang a bell in your mind.

“Do you know where Will is?” came another text while you tried to gather your thoughts, hearing Will shuffle in your living room. “I’ve tried Jonno but he knows nothing, and the police won’t tell me anything. They asked me to come in.”

You bit your lip. You promised Will you wouldn't tell. Damn, you were not making smart decisions right now, knowing the police were involved, but you were desperate to sort it out yourself first. To understand. You owed it to him.

“I’m sure he’ll come around, I’ll try to reach out for him. Don’t say anything, go to your parents. I’ll keep you updated if anything happens, yeah?”

You lock your phone after that written lie, and reach for a glass before filling it up with water.

You had suspected for a while that the guys were a little too cunning about doing illegal things, and even if they never talked to you about it, they didn’t try to really hide it either. They had the occasional jobs, but they never discussed it, they knew fishy people, fishy places and hung out God knew where for days. Matt was able to pay rent despite those shitty jobs, Will had his nan to take care of and Tom… was Tom. You believed you were unnecessarily worrying, especially since Leah didn't seemed bothered by any of it, so you let it go. But it seemed that she was even more clueless than you were.

You noticed how hard you were squeezing the glass of water in your hand and wondered for how long you had stayed like this, lost in your thoughts. But you decide that you had to know.

You unlock your phone again and search about that post office story you’re sure you’ve heard of before. It was too recent and too local for it to have been related in length, but you found some information nonetheless.

Three men robbed a post office with a firearm, and kidnapped one of the workers. The car has been found and leads are currently followed. Nothing more, the article was dated from yesterday.

You leaned into the counter and sighed, feeling the weight of all of this on your shoulders. Why, Will, why did he inflict that on himself? Where did they find a fucking gun? Why would they kidnap someone?

And why did you have this uneasy feeling that Will’s recent breakdown had something to do with Matt?

You stayed in the kitchen like this for a while, lost in thought. Your phone had several new panicked messages from Leah and you felt like a shitty friend for not calling her or even going to her. But somehow you felt that Will needed you the most. And he was wrong, you were not terrified of him, Never.

You gathered yourself and entered the living room, seeing Will fiddle with the bandages on his hands and he only seemed to notice your presence when you sat down beside him.

You handed him the water that he barely drank, analysing him and processing all of the information you had learned in the last minutes. You just had to try.

“Will… Where’s Matt?”

A/N: Thank you to @babyblue711, @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan & @arcielee for beta reading. They have been of incredible help and support. Part 2 is written and ready to go.

Part 2

#salad days #fic #will salad days #will #ewan mitchell #smut #angst #os #oneshot #usermyfandomprompts

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yourlocallyneysimp · 11 months

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Toilet Ghost?! 1/2

Genshin Boys x Hanako!Reader

A/n: To celebrate the reboot coming out soon! This is also a remake of an old post. I hope you like it!~

Characters: Lyney, Bennett, Xiao, Venti, Scaramouche, Aether, +HuTao

Lyney ♡

Pretty amazing duo. You both would get along really well, especially with the magic stuff!

Even though you don't know much about magic, Lyney would still try to show you small tricks!

Expect to be featured in future performances. (He doesn't realize people can't see you) He has to show the whole world that he has the best companions!

You both would also get into trouble a lot. Pranks, accidents, tricks, they're all really common. Flirting competitions are also a thing and Lynette has had enough of it.

He doesn't care if you're a ghost. After all, you're his best friend. (Soon to be lover)

Bennett ♡

Pretty interesting friendship, but also very cute.

Bennett keeps getting himself into trouble because of his luck, and you protect him.

I would say that Bennett made a wish of having an adventure team instead of getting rid of his bad luck. It confused you, but you told him that you would be the first member of his little team.

And just like that, a new friendship formed!

He apologizes a lot since you're the one always saving him. You know it's not his fault, so you always reassure him that everything's fine. After all, you haven't had this much fun in decades.

When he realizes that you're a ghost, he finds it pretty cool, but also upsetting. If you were a ghost, then that means you died, right..?

He won't ask for the details, but he still wonders every now and then.

Xiao ♡

He admires your strength.

Although he finds you to be mostly annoying, he still likes to watch you fight.

He previously couldn't touch you, but because he made some sort of 'bond' with you, he's able to make physical contact with you.

He would push you away at first, but eventually he won't mind your presence. He won't bother asking about your background and you wouldn't ask about his.

Even though one of you is way louder than the other, it's still a pretty silent friendship since you both secretly understand each other.

Venti ♡

Best friendship ever.

You both would never shut up.

Diluc has had enough of the both of you, but you both don't care. If you add Lyney to this small group, then you three would be unstoppable!

Even though you both like pulling pranks on Diluc and Paimon, you still both have small moments of peace.

For example, there are times when both of you just sit in silence, accompanied by each other's presence.

Sometimes it happens during night at Windrise when the both of you are thinking about past experiences. Even so, you both feel comforted that someone is there to understand.

He also doesn't care that you're a ghost. To be honest, he thinks you're more human than anything.

Scaramouche ♡

He can't stand you.

You helped him out once when a bunch of treasure hoarders were trying to rob him. Even though he could've handled it himself, he still enjoyed watching you fight them.

BUT, just because you helped him once does not mean you could follow him around!

He wouldn't listen to you as you talk about 'stupid topics'. Right now he wanted to be alone, but you weren't granting him that wish.

He tried attacking you, but that didn't really help since you're a ghost. How annoying.

Eventually, he gives up. He let's you follow him since he knew yelling at you wasn't going to solve anything.

Even though he would give you the silent treatment, slowly and eventually he would start coming around.

He would mumble a few words here and there, but in your eyes, it's still progress!

Aether ♡

You remind him a lot of Hu Tao.

He is not bothered by you since he deals with a lot of different people throughout the day, but someone doesn't appreciate your presence.

Paimon always tells you to stop following them, but Aether always defends you, saying that she follows him too.

He will hide you from Hu Tao, though, since he knows that she would probably try to 'put you away.'

He doesn't believe that you could make wishes come true, but he still tries it anyway.

"I want to find my sister."

You were caught off guard by the serious request since you weren't expecting him to say something like that.

When you find out he also has a twin, it reminds you of your own. Oh, how you wish you had a strong sibling bond like Aether and Lumine...

+Hu Tao ♡

Even though the both of you have similar personalities, Hu Tao gives you the Qiqi treatment.

She tries to help you cross over, which in her eyes is a generous thing to do, but you can't leave this world just yet! You still have so much to do.

You just hope that she will eventually understand that.

And also free Qiqi..

Bye!~

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #lyney #lyney x reader #venti x reader #venti #bennett x reader #Bennett #xiao x reader #xiao #Scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #aether x reader #Aether #Paimon #hanako kun

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curtain-caller · 10 days

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The Parallels Between Korsica and Roquefort

So, when I was setting up my plans for Fly-High Rush, things were a bit one-sided in terms of group numbers, so instead of keeping Korsica the same, I decided to swap her and Roquefort. I figured they were similar enough to make a switch work.

But then I realized they were... really similar. Like, very, very similar. The comparisons just kept coming and they didn't stop.

So here we are. Welcome to my Ted Talk.

1. WIND ATTACKS:

Let's get one of the bigger comparison out of the way: both of them fight with wind. Korsica uses it all the time, from turning off generators to putting out fires to kicking Chai's ass. Then there's Roquefort, who throws out little tornadoes during his fight and tries to send Chai flying with his Big Bad Wolf attack several times. That move also requires Korsica specifically to hold it back with her own wind gust. Yeah, not much to say here.

2. Connection to a Vandelay Sibling:

See, this is the point that really got the gears turning in my head. Both of them have a close connection to a Vandelay sibling who saved their lives: Roquefort to Kale, and Korsica to Peppermint.

"I was on my deathbed when Kale saved me. I was smart, but weak. He fixed that." - Roquefort

"Your wound was really bad...We didn't have a choice." - Peppermint "You... saved my life." - Korsica

Not to say Peppermint saved Korsica single-handedly (shout out to Mac and CNMN, the true mvps), but then again, I doubt Kale painstakingly upgraded Roquefort's body piece by piece on his own, so my point still stands. Both Vandelay siblings had a hand in saving their lives respectively, and because of that, you can see the bonds formed between these two duos.

Peppermint tries to be welcoming and reassuring to Korsica when she first comes to after Kale's murder attempt, and Korsica returns that reassurance later on in Mimosa's level. She hasn't even been with the gang for a full mission yet, is probably still getting used to these changes, and she still tries to comfort Peppermint, especially during her "Kale's my brother" reveal.

Not to mention, during the optional conversations in Roquefort's office before you face Kale, Korsica's dialogue is slightly different in terms of topic. Everyone has something to say regarding their own specific character arcs and motivations, but part of Korsica's dialogue is specifically her worrying about Peppermint.

"But I'm a bit worried about Peppermint. This is personal for her." - Korsica "After all we've been through, it might not be easy... but I think she can handle it." - Chai "You might be right about that, but we need to be there for her when she needs it." - Korsica

Now going back to Kale and Roquefort, while their interactions are brief, you can tell that both of them have at least some respect for each other, which is a hell of a lot more than they give to most of the other Department Heads. Especially Kale.

"Zanzo, Stop. Just stop. Even you jumped the shark on this one. IN THE EYE? What the shit?" - Kale to Zanzo (via SPECTRA Hub vlog) "Only one of of four, Korsica? That's not a passing grade." - Kale to Korsica "It better! No slip-ups! And no defects." - Kale to Mimosa and Rekka Versus...

"Why not? I want to see just how angry you can get, if those punks make it in here." - Kale to Roquefort Sure, Kale still lashes out at him, he's not nice all of a sudden, but it feels like such a massive difference. Kale questions why he ever hired Zanzo, he tried to straight up KILL Korsica, and he's harsh enough to Mimosa and Rekka to the point that they flinch. Hell, REKKA of all people flinches twice. But here? Kale trusts Roquefort to handle things, even if he is a bit dismissive with the "you're just a number cruncher" line.

And on the other side of things, Roquefort is not only loyal to Kale, but surprisingly calm and casual around him. Casual enough to correct him and talk back.

"We...shut down the cafe." - Roquefort "When I said close the campus down, I didn't mean THE CAFE!" - Kale "You said close down everything." - Roquefort

The casual tone of voice is palpable. I genuinely think that's the least angry we see Roquefort, except maybe during the Boss Zoom meeting.

And if you want to go the shipping route, yes, shout out to my lesbians, not much to prove there, but... Hey Kale, do you want to explain why you, a confirmed dog person, gave Roquefort a robotic wolf fursuit? YOU WANNA EXPLAIN THAT??? HUH???

3. Similar Personalities:

They're cold, they're direct, and they're aggressive, and despite their rare goofy moments, I feel comfortable saying they're the most serious of the Department Heads.

Excluding the visual aspects (because this point would be null and void thanks to Roquefort fursuit), these two are by far the least hammy of the bosses. Unlike the others, who provide witty banter, plenty of cheesy lines and over-dramatic reactions, the dialogue for these two is rarely comedic or high-energy.

Here's some examples for comparison:

"I like defects. I like how they taste." - QA-1MIL

"So let's get ready to crumble!" - Rekka

Do I even need an example for Zanzo?

"Let's raise the stakes, and turn down the lights!" - Mimosa

"You've had a few hits, but I think it's time we break up the band." - Kale

Compare that to...

"Caught you off guard." - Korsica "I'll make sure you stay down this time!" - Korsica "You cocky LOSER!" - Korsica

"You sure made an entrance, lad. If you've come for me... I'd walk away." - Roquefort "Where's your confidence now, kid?" - Roquefort "I put my stock in futures, but not yours, kid." - Roquefort

The other bosses are willing to taunt and even go along with Chai's goofiness, but these two? Oh, they don't have much time for that. They barely hesitate, and are not holding back in the slightest. Korsica fucking yeets him down a slope, puts him in a headlock, knocks him out, does whatever she can to hold him back from getting to her office, and only pauses briefly to gaze upon his stupidity before whipping her batons out when he busts in. Even after she gets knocked out and sustains, like, 3 different flavors of concussion(5 if you count Chai and the vent hitting her), she gets RIGHT BACK UP! In a way, Roquefort is a bit more lenient, letting Chai into his office once he gets that far... but the "I'm not fucking around" energy is still there. He's like "Oh, you're really that determined? I respect it. Come at me, kid, I'm not fucking scared." And then he proceeds to back that up. He doesn't even bother attacking Chai with his regular form at first (or at all, frankly), he goes from 0 to 100 and refuses to fall somewhere in the middle. And finally, there's one similarity between them personality-wise that gets its own section, that being how...

4. They're Fueled by Anger:

Basically every boss is aggressive in some way, throwing all kinds of things at Chai as he consistently grinds their 30 day chips from anger management to dust, but here's the thing... When I say "fueled by anger", I mean health-wise. These two heal themselves on-screen because of their anger. With Roquefort, this is pretty well established. He constantly says that all Chai is doing is making him angrier, and that so long as he's mad, he won't be stopped, to the point that thousands of pounds of gold getting the drop on him was the only thing that could take him down. During the verse/phase changes, you can see his health bar quickly refill itself each time, and his wolf form model viewer description wraps this all up in a nice, neat little bow with this line: "Powered by Roquefort's own anger, attacking it will only make it more aggressive and powerful." Now, getting to Korsica... I'll only say this one thing. Can we just acknowledge she went from THIS:

TO THIS:

ALL BECAUSE CHAI CALLED HER OBLIVIOUS??? SHE'S OUT FOR BLOOD, SHE WANTS THAT TWINK OBLITERATED. "That's it! Now I'm mad!" - Korsica Anger Management? More like Angry Management, am I right?

5. Chai is Out of his Element:

*Holds Chai up by the scarf* Get his ass, you two (I say this affectionately)

Yeah, Chai is severely out of his element with both of them. These two fights are especially humbling for him, albeit for opposite reasons. Korsica is the one boss Chai can't just run in and beat the crap out of, so we see him struggle a lot as he constantly rolls nat 1s on charisma. He and the gang go through, like, three different plans in the span of the whole boss fight; first going with Peppermint's plan to state the facts and stay cool, followed by Chai's plan of trying to tire her out until she's willing to listen, and finally ending with "Fuck it, let's just kidnap her, we'll work on a plan D later". And to top it all off, Korsica throws an entire new addition to the parry mechanic at Chai in the middle of all of this, and he just has to keep rolling with it. For Roquefort's fight, I think it's pretty clear that Chai is TERRIFIED of him. He goes in all cocky and confident, thinking Roquefort's a pushover, and gets humbled QUICK when Roquefort reveals his true nature. You only very briefly see his confident attitude resurface during this fight, like when he knocks Roquefort through the glass pane to his money vault. Otherwise, he's either terrified or exhausted, especially at the end, gritting his teeth and getting ready to keep fighting because he has no other option. Not to mention the others are constantly reassuring and being protective of Chai during the fight via their call-in dialogue. Chai is straight up NOT having a good time. At least he got an unintentional nap after Korsica's fight, dude needs a rest after dealing with Roquefort. Where's SMIDGE when you need him, dude needs an energy drink, stat.

6. Boss Music:

Okay so I am NOT well-versed in musical vocabulary so like... bear with me on this. Hopefully this is coherent. Anyways, Negotiation and The Fizzith just... have the same vibe to me. Yes, I'm mostly focusing on The Fizzith, I believe in Streamer Mode Supremacy. First of all, I guess I can start off by saying that they're the only bosses with pure instrumentals for their tracks, with everyone else having lyrics in theirs. Second of all, both of their song formats just sound so... similar to me? Idk how to describe it, but like... They both start with a dramatic build up as they instill the fear of God in Chai, with Roquefort having that iconic classical music "DUN DUN DUN DUUUUUN" intro and Korsica having a shorter, but still just as powerful, build up as she jumps up and whips her batons out. This is then followed by, like, a slightly softer and steadier follow up as it proceeds with the rest of the intro cutscene, as Roquefort leaps over Chai and Korsica turns down Chai's offer to talk. Then the tension gradually grows as the fight goes on, with each phase adding another instrument or two to make things more intense. The Fizzith is already a lot more intense than Negotiation at the start, but you can still hear the build up with each phase for both. And then finally, there's a small "calm before the storm" section, aka where Chai almost talks Korsica down, and when Roquefort is amping up for his final Big Bad Wolf attack. Roquefort's goes back to a steady sort of beat for a moment, while Korsica's has that quiet clapping and softened tone. This is then followed by an intense, deep, high-energy climax as Korsica starts throwing everything she has at you, and as Roquefort sends this lengthy tornado sound-wave barrage at you. While this format is by no means an original one (hell, I noticed a lot of this in Mimosa's fight too), there's just something about their music that just... feels interconnected to me. Like, if I had to sit down and imagine any other boss having a parry-based boss fight like Korsica's, just going by their boss fight music, I'd go for Roquefort (with Mimosa as a close second). And genuinely, I have actually sat down and imagined it, and it's almost perfect. I'm connecting the two dots, motherfuckers (I'm not connecting shit) I'M CONNECTING THEM-

7. Control Over Security:

And with that, we're now arriving at the much smaller points that I don't have as much to discuss about. So I don't really need to say much about Korsica during this section, for obvious reasons. But as for Roquefort, he IS the one who takes over once Korsica's out of the picture and shit starts to hit the fan. "Kale, I prioritized shielding the tower. Reallocated the budget so not a bug will get in." - Roquefort And both of them are damn good at holding Chai and the others back. Korsica takes 3 whole stages to get to her, keeping you on your toes the whole time with lasers, brakes, and enemies galore. I imagine it would've been difficult as hell to get into the Security Department in the first place if Chai didn't get knocked out and held for questioning. And while his segment is pretty short, all things considered, Roquefort gives it his all to shield Vandelay Tower, locking it down so well that even the smartest members of the TEA-m are stumped. Chai's the only one with an idea, and even that had several hurdles. The second they started connecting to the cannon to launch Chai, security comes rushing in, and he probably would've gotten caged in if SMIDGE didn't unintentionally hold the door open for him. Let's also not forget the big-screened wanted posters, the whole Invaders Must Die cafeteria fight, and that one specific fucking bird that threw Chai around like a hacky sack. THEY. WANT. THIS. TWINK. OBLITERATED.

8. Their Affection Towards Cats:

Korsica has a folder on her computer labeled "CAT Gifs", and Roquefort fawns over 808 when she uses her Steal the Show ability. I rest my case.

9. Accidental Puns:

Okay, so I would've titled this "both like puns", but the jury's still out on Korsica in my opinion. Yeah, Chai says she's lying about hating puns, but to me, she seems like she's... on the fence of liking them. Like, she's hesitantly annoyed by them. But I CAN say that they've both accidentally made a pun. "You think you can strong-arm ME?" - Korsica "Hey, YOU chose to fight-...Wait, you like puns too?" (points at his arm) - Chai "What? No!" - Korsica "Roquefort here. Shut this place down! Protect Finance at all costs! (Heh, I said "costs!") - Roquefort "Ughhhhhhhh." - Peppermint

10. Probably Awakened Something in Players:

It's no wonder how thirsty the fandom is when these two have some of the most charged lines in the game... "You broke my concentration. So how 'bout I break you?" - Korsica "Let's take this somewhere a bit more secure. So we don't disturb the neighbors." - Roquefort Welcome to Hi-Fi Rush, where they appeal to both the "I love the kind of woman who could kick my ass" community and the furry werewolf boyfriend sugar daddy community.

11. Visual/Dialogue Similarities:

Finishing this off is a section dedicated to miscellaneous visual or dialogue similarities that I couldn't fit elsewhere.

(The camera zooms in before I can get a good shot of Korsica actually ON her desk, so standard shot it is.) TOP 10 WAYS TO ENHANCE YOUR LEADERSHIP SKILLS IN THE WORKPLACE #1: Jump onto your desk to establish dominance

Smug little losers...

GET FUCKING YEETED

Man, they even intimidated the camera man, they can't keep it straight.

Spiky, anime-ass hair/fur. Triangular.

Of course they have blue eyes and nails and pronouns (ft. Chai living the dream) Also, speaking of blue... maybe it's because both of theirs glow blue, but some of their cybernetics have the same vibe to me.

Mostly just the chest and the arms (since that's all Korsica's got). Maybe I'm just looking too hard but like... the blue tubes connected to the arms, the glowing chest... Okay, I'm running out of red string for my evidence board, moving on. Anyways, not as much to bring up about remaining dialogue similarities, but I still have a few. "Is that a floating cat? Ugh, nothing about you even makes sense!" - Korsica "The numbers are in... and YOU are OUT!" - Chai "Wow. That makes no sense, you idiot!" - Roquefort Behold Chai's natural ability to deal psychic damage by not making any sense whatsoever. And finally... mission plan dialogue. "Mission report. Just...go up." - Peppermint "Up?" - Chai "Up." - Peppermint "That's it?" - Chai "Looks like Korsica's in her office, and it's on the top floor. Hence, "up"." - Peppermint

"Chai, you're doing it! The Tower is unguarded. We're headed your way." - Korsica "Chai! Roquefort's office is a couple floors above you. Get up there and kick his ass!" - Peppermint When in doubt: go up.

So in conclusion...

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astroyongie · 8 days

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Astroyongie Podcast S01 EP04

Note: please take it lightly. Censored version. This podcast was done on the 4th May. Notes taken my: @kattyaskat

-> Can you talk about the kissing types based on astrology? Like which planets indicate how you kiss and how is each sign?

I take Mercury and Venus into account. Mercury the way it is built, the way it is done. Skills is based on Mercury. And Venus is how it’s developed, how it is felt during a romantic relationship.

-> Should Mars be involved too? For kissing

I only focus on Mercury and Venus. Mars I mostly used when the physical contact gets more developed. though some astrologers can focus on Mars.

-> Tea questions: Ateez

1) (Censored) . He also a bit on edge cause of the internal conflict within the company. Maybe he wants to do something and the company is not giving it so he gets a bit discouraged and grumpy. How company is handling them without much rest.

4) I cannot speak of it.

5) (Censored)- developed an interested to the occult

7) (Censored). He is attracted to things that are bad for him overall and he knows about it and tries to avoid it. He always leans on things he should not and I cannot say more than that. These topics could become problematic if developed

8) (Censored). So huge conflict happened between X and either a member or someone who works in the company. I don’t know if it’s staff or member.

-> BTS

6)(Censored). Good news for his ex but not him. I don’t know why they came back or if they are gonna work it out or not. I don’t know if it’s really a good thing considering what happened between them in the past. This is perhaps jut a ex reunion and won't last long

-> Who is this ex?

I don’t know. Most of the people BTS went out will were non idols, rich background and Chaebols.

-> BND

1) (Censored). I don’t know the female idol.

2)(Censored).

5)He is from maknae line. He had trouble in fitting with the group. And finding his own space. He feels like other members maybe don’t like him. Maybe he is introverted that he finds it hard to connect with his members.

-> EXO

4)They are one of top 3 most loved member in this group. He is a genuine person but when it comes to his idol image he puts a lot of work into it cause he knows people will not love his true personality. His real personality is somone who had a lot of boundaries, restrictions and he doesn’t take shit from no one. But the image the company put on him is silly one. That’s why he hides a lot of his true emotions and uses his façade. In reality he is someone very mature, strict with himself and others.

-> Enhypen

1)(Censored). That boy is smart when it comes to business. He know to handle company, how to get tea and receipts about people and knows how to use it.

2) (Censored).

3) (Censored).

4) (Censored). He might have done something with other people- people in the industry or other idols they might have receipts/screenshots/pictures on things he might have done/days that could potentially ruin his career. But at the moment they are not using those on him and he thinks he is protected but he is not. They could use it any moment.

5) (Censored).

-> Itzy

5) (Censored) she didn't ended the contract with her company.. Only with her sponsor who she dated before.

-> Seventeen

3 )(Censored).

5 ) a member of the dancing team that has been seducing this person that is married, when he himself is already in another relationship. This could get complicated if he keeps with this

7)(Censored).

12) (Censored). Something in his energy that’s like someone is messing with him. Through spirituality or emotionally or directly not much idea, since I couldn't properly look Into it. This person is just trying to upset (Censored) or someone is just being very mean to him.

-> StrayKids:

1)You might already know this member. Lately the music this member has been producing has been has nothing to do with their love for music/composition. More so now doing for money. The reason why the music shifted is it’s not to share a feeling or share something you’ve been working on anymore. It has lost the inner soul touch. He has also been spending a lot of money on things unreasonable. Spending money without thinking.

2)(Censored). Everytime I have been reading for him from last year, his mental health has been downgrading. I fear for him

3)(Censored).

5)(Censored). Though that was not from anything he did. Someone did it to him. I don’t know why they did that to him or it’s just a manifestation. Maybe someone around him really liked him and they went to see shaman and tried things and it’s affecting his energy.

6) (Censored)

-> TXT

2) (Censored).

3) (Censored).

-> RIIZE:

2) That member was in NCT before they debuted on riize.

4)(Censored)

-> NCT Dream

4)(Censored) -this tea might be biased, cause it’s fragmented energy that I get from him right now cause of his burn out and also the hiatus.

5)Can’t speak of it.

-> LSS

1)She has trust issues. Not as a person or a woman but when it comes to being an idol. Sacrificed a lot emotionally, physically, financially the most out of all the members. She is ready to do anything and everything to stay on top.

3)Cannot name but she might pretend she is very nice n kind but Behind the scenes if you ask for a favour she will look you up andn down and move on. Not Yunjin.

-> Gidle

3)(Censored). Regarding Lifestyle could be seen as reckless and might become problem later. she is someone who suffered a lot of trauma and she is trying to use anything to espace that reality

5) (Censored).

-> MonstaX

5) (Censored)

-> Do you have any idols that you do not like cause of readings and stuff and if so who?

Take this lightly. It’s not absolute truth because It’s only my perception and I energetically don’t vibe with them and energetically speaking I don’t feel very comfortable reading them. Yujin, Aaron, Suga, Jeonghan. I have hard time connecting with them. This doesn’t mean that they are bad people to their core. It’s just my perception, not being able to read them or feeling nauseous when reading for them. There might be some bad reading experiences with them as well, or things I saw that I wish I didn't. those could have influenced/biased my opinion. Also it's through tarot so I don’t want people to hate on them without having concrete proof.

-> Is Hongjoong love life ok? Because you said something like he was kinda attracted to (Censored), so I was wondering if their current relationship is build in convenience?

Hongjoong and (Censored) are not dating each other, not seeing each other officially. None of them are committing to each other due to work/schedules but are still seeing each other In a non official relation way.

-> About skz n*5, I used to get this Empress card whenever I did a reading for them regarding love situation.

Interesting , Maybe they are the one that’s poisoning their energy. The things many readers get are only fragmented and not the whole picture. Some people will have some parts and others will have some others parts and it seems like yours connects with my reading well. So that’s why I say take the readings in Tumblr with a grain of salt!

-> Do you think Suga and Kihyun still keep in touch as friends?

Not at the moment. And I don’t think they’ve been talking to each other in quite sometime.

-> Wasn’t Hongjoong in a relationship last reading you made? It was (Censored) that your were talking about in that?

It could be her but it also could not be her. There is one other person than (Censored), Hongjoong is talking to. She might be a side interest. It was confusing I couldn’t figure that out.

-> Is Seonghwa jealous with Hongjoong & (Censored) and he don’t like (Censored)?

He is funny in a way that he hates or dislikes all the people his members have dated or are close to. I don’t know if he is just a possessive person like that or if it's because he has underlying reasons.

-> Any updates about Bk identity?

no updates. It’s highly possible they and Hyunjin are not together anymore.

-> Wooyoung love update?

He still has eyes on his person he loves but I cannot confirm if they are together.

-> Recently Bibi made a collab with Ateez. They danced in some of her MV. So maybe something happened between Bibi and Wooyoung?

Nothing happened between them when it comes to physical things.

-> Can I ask about Mingi love life recently?

Mingi is in a complicated situation. There is a lot of jealousy and moodiness around his relationship. He’s unable to trust the person he loves cause he’s thinking they are probably cheating on him. He’s struggling with trust and immaturity.

-> What do you think about ex member(woojin) energy?

I don’t like it. I’ve only read for him once and I don’t think I’ll reading for him again nor plan to.

-> Sometimes I heard some voice in language I don’t understand when I did meditation. And sometimes I smell scents like rotten meat and smoke, but when I ask my friend they don’t smell anything?

Oh this is not good at all. Hearing voices in unknown language n smelling foul things, I would advise you to stop meditating and do a house/your space cleanse. Because that is not normal. You could be traveling to the lower astral instead of the higher astral and that can be dangerous if you have no idea what you are doing/ or if you aren't energetically protected/have made no protection ritual before engaging. Cleanse you house, your space, your room and do a protection circle before meditation.

-> Am I jinxing myself with constant doubting/overthinking about the opportunities I have?

I don’t even need to do a reading because when you convince yourself that what you have done is not good, overthinking ,doubting a lot, it will literally manifest. If you are putting bad energy out there and into yourself, there's no way good things come out. You are self sabotaging. So try your best to think positively and when you feel the bad thoughts come out, try to rationalize it. Try not to put the negative thoughts out there and do not vocalize them.

-> How is Garam doing? do u see her stepping back in the spotlight becoming successful in acting?

I don’t know how she is doing, I haven’t done any readings on her since she left.

-> What do you think about Garam’s energy, yongie?

I don’t mind it but it’s not that good either. Also I’ve done only one reading on her, so not much opinion.

-> Yongie I always sponge people's energy. What can I do?

When it comes to sponging you could try to protect your energy through crystals- eye of falcon, eye of tiger, black tourmaline, obsidian, clear quartz. Another tip is when you get to know that these emotions are not yours, try to process them and let them go.

-> Can energies change over time?

Yes. They are always shifting.

-> Will there be an IZ*ONE reunion?

No, not for now.

-> Is kep1er gonna disband?

It seems like some sponsors of some girls are actually pushing for disbanding and for them to be soloists. I think 3 members are going to debut in a new group after.

#astroyongie #podcast #tea

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best-underrated-anime · 7 months

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Best Underrated Anime Group J Round 1: #J4 vs #J5

#J4: Kids conquering dungeons to change the world

A Magi is a magician whose inclination toward magic is so immense that they can be said to shape the world. With their significant influence, each Magi chooses a worthy candidate to become a king, then helps them conquer strange labyrinths called "Dungeons" and acquire the power of mythical djinns within. Above all else, the Magi supervises their elected representative as they build a country that might one day bring the world to its knees.

Aladdin is a young Magi wandering the world in search of his true self. However, his journey is not a lonely one, as he is accompanied by his friend and mentor Ugo—a djinn he summons using his flute. On his travels, Aladdin also befriends Alibaba Saluja and guides him to a nearby Dungeon. With this newfound friendship, they begin an epic adventure across the world, witnessing various irregularities that seem more frequent than ever.

#J5: Girls live in a school, but not by choice

Carefree high school senior Yuki Takeya looks forward to the School Living Club every day. Consisting of the president Yuuri Wakasa, the athletic Kurumi Ebisuzawa, the mature Miki Naoki, the supervising teacher Megumi Sakura, and club dog Taroumaru, the club prides itself on making the most of life at school. There is only one rule the club members have to follow: all members must live their entire lives within school grounds.

[Admin: I didn’t notice it while screening the submissions, but the submitter’s original trailer and tagline contained MAJOR spoilers for episode 1. Luckily, I’ve watched this show before, so I can edit it safely.]

Titles, propagandas, trailers, and poll under the cut!

#J4: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic

youtube

Propaganda 1:

Imagine characters from Arabian Nights/1001 Nights coming to life in an anime. Even though it is loosely inspired off of the tales, it is a unique time and place from most anime settings. It has action, humor, and deep concepts. One of my favorite parts about Magi is how well-developed the background characters are.

Propaganda 2:

This anime has a lot of philosophical takes on what fate is. Basically, is everything that happened to you caused by a force you can’t control or is it what you make of it? Is there something or rather someone pulling the strings on what should or shouldn’t be? Is the person you are because you were lucky or unlucky to be born in the wealthy family or not? Why are things the way they are? Why was I dealt with a shitty hand in life? Is it because I’ll never amount to anything, or is something doing this to me? Why are we here just to suffer kind of deal, but you know not the meme version, the really sad and real version. Then you have the side of the people who may have not had the best life, but found a way out of it. Why do some people get to feel the light when you went through the same thing, but still lost and in the dark?

Trigger Warnings: Partial nudity and slavery. One of the mains is a slave in the beginning, but the other two mains help free her from that.

#J5: School-Live! (Gakkougurashi!)

youtube

[Admin: The official trailer spoils ep1, so here, have the opening instead.]

Propaganda:

If you like Madoka Magica, you’ll 100% like this series. It’s hard to explain without spoilers, but it has a huge plot twist in the first episode. The anime is a short one with only 12 episodes, but it has an amazing manga as well! It mixes a cute slice of life high school anime with a darker plot, and it’s handled so well. It doesn’t seem like it’s just dark for the sake of being edgy like some other similar series. It covers topics like mental health and grief well, and it has as happy of an ending as possible for a series like this. The plot twists were executed so well, and I was sobbing by the end of the series.

Trigger Warnings: Animal Cruelty or Death, Graphic Depictions of Cruelty/Violence/Gore, Derealization.

[Admin: I had to remove the submitter’s explanations for the TWs because it will spoil the show greatly. You're on your own now. Proceed at your own risk.]

If you’re reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

#anime #best underrated anime #polls #poll tournament #tournament #anime tournament #animation #animated show #group stage #group stage round 1 #tournament polls #group j #magi #magi the labyrinth of magic #magi: the labyrinth of magic #school-live!#school live #gakkou gurashi #gakkougurashi

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iamthenerdqueen · 10 months

Text

The Red String of Faith

Idol!AteezXOCs Soulmates!ot8AteezXOCs OCXOC

slight twigger warnings: Polyamory, group of 10, two OC's -feel free to replace one OC with yourself if you'd like- ,eventual smut, listen this is an idea me and my best friend had and is something for fun read at own risk, not edited as always

A/N: Enjoy :)

‘To say that the last twenty years had changed the landscape of society would be a vast understatement. Since the United Nations formally recognised and protected soulmates in December of 2000 the world had experienced a social shift. Monogamy was still practiced and certain cultures still heavily encouraged monogamy regardless of soulmate connection, but it had become more common for people to realize that they were in what is known as a ‘soulgroup’. A ‘soulgroup’ is a group of soulmates with three or more links among the soul connections. ‘

At this point Lyra had to stop reading the book in her hand, her job was fantastic most of the time. Except for right now as she struggled through the boring book about soulmates and soulgroups that had been complained about by a patron of the library system. No matter how far they had come in the last twenty years, the bible belt of the south was still the bible belt of the south and the concept of multiple soulmates or soulmates of the same gender were still considered wrong to many people.

This was nothing new to the twenty-one year old, Lyra and her soulmate Arcelia or Lia as she preferred to be called had known they were soulmates since they were in high school. The two of them both being girls was a hot topic for the first few weeks, but it died down relatively fast when people realized that the two were platonic soulmates. They were friends before they both turned sixteen, and after Lia finally turned sixteen everything made sense. They were made for each other, just in another sense.

But that was years ago, now no one cared (for the most part) and the dynamic duo went about life as usual.

Lyra was beyond grateful that she worked the morning shift, getting off from the Library at one. She would be home before twenty after and then on the way to the Ateez concert before two o’clock, that’s the plan at least.

But nothing goes perfectly to plan, like the door Lyra currently was fighting with. The door’s finicky, you have to pull it slightly toward yourself but make sure not to turn the handle at all or it wouldn’t open, Lyra’s trick was to struggle with it until Lia would come and open it. No rescue today however as Lyra walked into their shared apartment she saw that Lia was on stream.

Most days this wouldn’t be a problem, Lia streamed on Twitch for a living and was pretty damn good at it too. Albeit, most people are good at The Sims but her over 9 million followers on the platform put her within the top 15 streamers on the platform. Pretty damn good at it in Lyra’s opinion.

As quietly as she could, Lyra entered the office space her soulmate used to stream in. Putting a quick finger to her mouth she signaled for those watching the stream not to rat her out, it was a running joke that Lyra would attempt to scare Lia during her streams. But just like always, Lia’s fluffle was quick to point out her presence before she fully entered the room.

“Welcome to the stream, Lyra. What’s up?” Lia turned from her screen to face the new comer in the room, shifting her headset to free one ear to fully hear the brunette standing near the office door.

Excitedly bouncing toward the streamer and her set up, Lyra greeted the stream, “Hi bunnies! I’m stealing her early today because it’s ATEEZ DAY!” Turning from the monitors and mic, Lyra looked to Lia, patting the hand she had extended in a greeting with an unusual amount of energy for the bookish girl.

“It’s just about 1:30, we have to be out of here by two to make it to Atlanta in enough time, Lia.” Lyra’s tone was calm despite her obvious excitement about the concert.

“No way, is it already?!,” Lia quickly checked her phone which had been sitting face down on her desk, “crap! It is! I am so sorry guys, but I have to get off and rush, IT”S ATEEZ DAY!” The Lia’s vibe went from calm to chaotic as she turned back to the stream.

Taking this as the que that they were about to rush before heading out, Lyra said a quick goodbye to the stream, “Bye buns! I have to get ready for my passenger princess duties!” Before making a beeline to her room to change from her business casual library clothes to something more age and concert appropriate then quickly adding some eyeline to her work makeup to better “fit the vibe” as Lia would regularly put it.

There are four things Lyra learned at the Ateez concert.

Everyone was happy to trade little nick nacks and the small bunnies they brought were a huge hit

Lia has A LOT of fans who are also ATINY

Apparently people make soulmate compilations of them being quote “cutest lotonic couple on the internet”

Never let Lia chose your concert outfit with blind faith, you will be in heels and a crop top

Librarian core was a vibe in Lyra’s opinion, just not a great one for trying to feel hot in the front row of a concert according to her best friend and soulmate. Lia was the fashion savvy one of the two, and had given Lyra very little room to say no to the outfit she had out together for her.

The two were both decked out head to toe in black, the vibe most fans had gone with for the concert. Lyra had to admit she felt hot, the crop top Lia had put her in crossed over itself a couple times and tied in the back which paired nicely with the black shorts she wore on top of a pair of fishnets. The red accents in her accessories pulled everything together. Lyra couldn’t help but feel a bit exposed, confidence wasn’t her strong suit. Being a curvier girl with her midriff out made her want to hide. The only saving grace was she got to show off her tattoos on her right leg which were normally covered by dress slacks. Lia was in her element, being a bad bitch came naturally to her.

Lia’s confidence in her curves only added to her aura. She knew how to present herself to the world and didn’t care what anyone else had to say about it. Her ‘concert fit’ as she had dubbed it on her instagram story right before they two walked out the door was a bit more on the nose with its Ateez inspiration. A cute shin length black skirt, and black shirt were nondescript on their own, but her choice of a small black hat and the silver jewelry along with the chunky heeled boots that sat in the backseat as she drove screamed HALA HALA.

The two looked similar enough that they didn’t clash with each other but had a bit of individual flare mixed in. The only thing that the two had that was exactly the same was the lipstick the two had decided to share, a blue-red lipstick that contrasted with their mostly black clothes very well.

In high school, their choir teacher had once told them they blanched each other out. Lia, the outgoing, confident, and loud social butterfly. Lyra, the shy, quiet, and reserved loner. Together, they were able to be more confident if needed in Lyra’s case or calmer in Lia’s. More than anything, however, together the two could only be accurately described as chaotic.

The front row of the venue was split into three sections, the center, the right of the stage, and the left of the stage.

Lia and Lyra were on the left side of the stage, a strategic move to avoid as many of the strobing lights as possible for Lyra’s sake. She hadn’t had a seizure in years, but they always aired on the side of caution. Being some of the first to their section was a blessing as neither wanted to have to weave in between other concert goers to get to their spots.

“Excuse me?” a small voice called from the right of Lia, “Are you Lia? From liasfarm? On Twitch?”

A girl who couldn’t be older than 14 was seated next to Lia with what seemed to be her mom on the other side of her who had obviously encouraged the young girl to say hi.

“Oh yeah I am, Hi,” Lia answered with a bright smile always excited to meet one of her bunnies in person, and even more delighted to see them in a place like this.

“Wow! I’ve been watching you since you were playing Stardew Valley!..” The shy girl quickly faded into an excited one as she began telling Lia how long she had been watching her streams and how much she looked up to the girl who just so happened to be seated next to her

“You’ve been watching since then? I only played Stardew for like two weeks when i started in 2020 before going to The Sims. What’s your name?” Lia had started streaming right after the pandemic hit to give her something to do in her spare time which quickly turned into a full time job and now two years later it was a career.

“My name is Taylor.” The young fan was suddenly shy again not expecting Lia to keep the conversation going.

“It’s nice to meet you Taylor! Are you excited to see Ateez? We got lucky and were able to change the tickets we got in 2020 a few weeks ago, fate huh?” Lia was as charismatic as always, Lyra thought watching the interaction before realizing the girl had spotted her and sent her a small wave.

“Hi Lyra! Oh my god, mom this is the best night ever,” the girl glanced back at her mom who was watching the interaction closely before continuing, “I love Ateez! You actually introduced me to them when you talked about them during one of your streams, the one where you were making the Slytherin common room…” the two talked nearly non-stop for the half hour they had before the concert officially started.

Lia was touched when Taylor explained that she didn’t really have friends and had decided to go to online schooling just before the pandemic because of bullying. Lia almost cried when Taylor’s mom said her daughter saw her as a friend and comfort person.

“Oh! And I make LiRa edits on Tiktok, you two are literally so good together. I hope that my relationship with my soulmate is just as good as y’alls, platonic or not,” Taylor explained as the lights started to go down causing the two girls on her right to grin. They loved the support they got from Bunnies and the internet general.

Lia laughed before whispering to the now group of four that they would be the loudest fans in the whole place or she would die fighting for the title. One thing that neither Lyra or Lia had noticed during the concert was the little red string that attached them to each other had become visible to them again.

But it not only connected them to each other, there were several threads trailing off. Maybe it was the darkness of the venue or the excitement that kept the two from realizing the change.

And so, they went about their time without concern, acting as a group of four with Taylor and her mother, screaming at the top of their lungs all night. Feral was the only way to describe them when Ateez surprised the crowd with a performance of Pick It Up right before the raffle drawing for the meet and greet after the show. Due to the lessening Covid restrictions and efforts to keep everyone safe, fansign generally was done through a plexiglass barrier for this concert, but they were trying something new to ease back into normal high touch.

One lucky VIP ticket holder and their party would be allowed a backstage meet and greet for a few minutes after the show.

“Okay Atiny!” Hongjoong began from center stage, “I have the winner of the raffle in this card, who will join us backstage after we do our normal high touch!”

The crowd went crazy, screams from all over rang out as everyone was excited to see who won. It was insane that no one seemed really upset that it would only be a small group, sure some people would be jealous if they didn’t get chosen but everyone knew that this was one step closer to getting back to how things were before.

“The winner is…” Hongjoong started while opening the card and the rest of the boy-group gathering around to join him in the announcement, “Seat F 73!” The whole group yelled in somewhat unison with Mingi being just a second or to behind the rest, but just as enthusiastic.

The realization dawned on Lyra first, she was the very end of the front row at F75, so that means two seats over won.

“Taylor, Oh My God! You WON!” Lyra yelled over the screams of the other Atiny in the venue as the group searched around for their new winner

“Taylor, Yay! I’m so happy for you,” Lia screamed just as Lyra had while excitedly giving the young girl a side hug and a huge smile. She felt like a proud older sister seeing something amazing happening to such a deserving fan.

Taylor seemed to be in a bit of shock even after Lia let her out of the huge, turning her head to her mom as if to check and see if this was real life.

“This is so cool, i’m so happy for her!” Lyra said as she turned to Lia as Taylor began talking to her mom, probably working out the details for after the show.

“I know! She is so sweet, they couldn’t have drawn a better seat. She really deserves this” Lia said, half watching the encore, half answering Lyra.

Before they knew it, the concert was over and the lights were coming up in the venue. The only downside to being in the front row was having to wait for others to file out first, or at least Lyra and Lia were because crowds were not their ideal situation.

Before going, Lia wanted to bid Taylor a quick goodbye and thank her for being such a good concert friend. She was surprised to see Taylor and her mom still beside them, looking as they were about to try and get the duo’s attention as well.

“Lia! Lyra! I have a question before you leave!” Taylor seemed more confident and comfortable now than she had during the whole concert.

“What’s up friend?” Lia answered her attention fully on the young girl now, Lyra coming to stand on Lia’s left also intently listening to the question at hand

“Would you two like to be part of my party and come backstage with us?”

The question and offer of sorts through both girls for a loop, the two shared quick look both feeling awkward. They didn’t want to take advantage of the girl and her mother’s generosity nor did they want her to feel like she needed to invite them to go with her just because she was a fan.

As Lyra readied herself to decline on behalf of the both of them, Taylor’s mother interrupted

“I know it might seem a little awkward, but please don’t feel obligated or like we're only offering because Taylor is a fan. I actually suggested it. You two have been great to share this concert experience with, which is why we are asking. It’s just us and the party limit is six. We don’t want this opportunity to go to waste, please?”

Lyra and Lia were still a bit apprehensive to accept, but it seemed like fate had already decided that they would be joining the mother and daughter, when a security guard walked up asking if they were the winning party.

The group hadn’t realized the main part of the venue had emptied out, before Lia or Lyra could decline Taylor answered

“Yep! The four of us are the winning party, my mom can show you our ticket information for confirmation.”

And just like that they were being escorted to a private green room to wait while Ateez did the normal high touch before coming to visit with them.

The room was nice, large enough to accommodate what would become 12 whole people in a matter of minutes. Some snacks and other refreshments had been spread out across the room adjacent to the several chair and two couches taking up most of the space.

Lia looked calm on the outside, if anything a little quiet, but her anxiety was through the roof with the whole situation. She was scared that she was taking advantage of a fan by getting swept up in this offer but also felt that it would be extremely rude to try and leave at this point.

Lyra was anxious as well, not only did the situation put her in an extremely social situation when her people battery was already low from the night, but she had just noticed the string of fate.

There it was in all its bright red glory, connecting her to Lia as always but eight new strings had appeared leading off behind the door on the other side of the green room. Lyra turned to point out the change in their string to Lia, only to see the subtle look of panic across her soulmates face which was quickly masked with a bright smile as Taylor came to sit in a chair near them.

“Is this your first time doing something like this? You two look a little nervous.” Taylor's Mom, Vivian, asked. Her voice washed over the two anxious soulmates like a calming blanket. She seemed so comfortable in this setting and it helped bring the stress down,

“Yeah, we’ve never even done normal high touch before and were nervous for that,” Lyra laughed out trying to take some of the pressure off of Lia, who despite the break in the tension with the new conversation was still very anxious.

“It’ll be just fine, I work in the music industry in Atlanta. Taylor and I have been around the block before. Taylor’s Dad plays for the Atlanta Falcons also, so we’ve been exposed to this type of stuff for a loooong time.” Vivian’s words were somewhat calming, but also made a lot of sense. It also raised an entirely new set of questions, for both Lyra and Lia respectively.

Before they could fire off with any of their questions, the door opened.

In walked the stars of the night, all eight members of Ateez, in all their sweaty, tired glory. What was most alarming about their entrance was the red string leading between all of them and coming back to attach to the threads connected to Lyra and Lia.

Both of whom are now painfully aware of the changes in their thread and exactly who it connected to. And it seemed that all eight members were just as aware that they were staring at two girls who completed their soulgroup.

A/n: Again not edited, i know its a bit of a mess but tis something from me so the expectations were low

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em-dash-press · 1 year

Text

How Traditional Publishing Works for Short Stories

You’ve written a short story and want it to reach readers, but you’re tired of combing through contests. Don’t worry—there’s a path to traditional publishing for short stories and you can follow it to build your writing resume with these steps.

1. Polish Your Work

Reviewing your story before submitting it is crucial. One or two typos may not disqualify you from getting accepted for publishing, but it could make the publisher pause.

Read through your work out loud to catch the tiny line edits that our eyes often skip over.

Ask a friend or family member to read it. A fresh pair of eyes on your work is priceless!

Use a text-to-speech reader to catch typos. You may hear the spelling errors more clearly, so try a site like this one: https://www.naturalreaders.com/online/

You can also use the spell check within your preferred writing software. It may not catch every spelling or tense-usage error, but it’s still helpful.

2. Research Publications

Longer manuscripts would normally look for publishing houses or imprints, but short stories just need publications.

Imagine the publishing world as an umbrella. Publishing houses are the fabric of the umbrella and imprints are the metal arms making the fabric extend. Imprints are subsections of publishing houses. Publications are like the stem and handle of an umbrella. They’re mostly independently owned, so that’s where you’ll find things like:

Literary magazines

Literary Journals

Ezines

Some are run by small groups of people who love making things like short-story anthologies and others will be professionally run magazines or journals with wide distribution. Your work may qualify for all of these publications depending on the length, topic, and what each publication is looking for.

3. Submit Your Work

Personally, I think finding the right places to submit your work is the most challenging part of publishing any story. There are an overwhelming number of places to consider. You might never learn about all of them!

Luckily, I’ve found a few tools to streamline the process.

Chill Subs is my current favorite site to find publications seeking short stories. You can find their site here: https://chillsubs.com/

This is what their homepage looks like—I’m breathing a sigh of relief just seeing it that encouraging welcome!

Once you make your free account (which is what allows you to track your submissions, results, etc.), you’ll find this page when you’re ready to start browsing:

It may seem like a lot, but selecting publication types and finding places that specifically want things like a spooky vibe or a quick response time makes submitting your work so much faster.

Just below this browsing section, you’ll find a list of publications if you just want to select a few without the filters. Here’s a screenshot of the first one I found:

There’s a great summary of the magazine and everything you need to know, like the facts that they have a super fast response time, don’t require a submission fee, and even their acceptance rate!

If you scroll further down under a publisher, you’ll find other invaluable information like:

Normally, you’d have to find all of these things by searching a publication’s website and recent published work. It would take much more time and you might not find what you’re looking for (I struggle when I’m too tired or distracted). Chill Subs will connect you to publications super quickly and easily, without charging a dime!

Next, I also like The Grinder, which you can find here: https://thegrinder.diabolicalplots.com/

Here’s what their homepage looks like:

This site is better for people who are more data driven! Right beneath the top of their homepage, you can automatically see the stats for The Grinder users who recently got accepted or rejected. At the time that I wrote this post, the people in the screenshot below had numerous rejections. I find it encouraging to see stuff like this because it’s a reminder that rejections happen to everyone. It’s just a matter of finding the right place for your work!

If you select “Search” on the top of the homepage, you’ll get a dropdown menu for things like searching for fiction or poetry submissions, plus publishers listed in alphabetical order.

For the purpose of this post, I’ve selected “Historical” as my imaginary story I’d like to submit. There are many other genres in the box if you keep scrolling. Here’s what the start of this process looks like:

Hit “Search” and this comes up:

Right away you’ll see what each place pays, which genres and lengths they accept and their response time. I’ve clicked on the first publisher and found this data:

Enjoy using the charts and data to gauge where your stories should go! There are many publications working with The Grinder, so there’s tons to search through as you get a feel for what’s out there.

Other potential places to submit your work:

Submittable: https://manager.submittable.com/opportunities/discover (You’ll need to have submitted to a contest that uses Submittable to make an account, but the Discover tab has many publications organized by closest deadlines.)

Your university literary journals (if you’re a university student—most only accept work from students enrolled in that school, but it’s a major perk if you’re paying tuition because you won’t have to pay to send your work off!)

Local literary journals (many only accept work from writers who live nearby, which narrows down your competition).

4. Keep Track of Your Submissions

If you’re submitting more than one or two stories at a time, it’s best to keep a spreadsheet that tracks your submissions. As your writing career continues, you’ll always be able to reflect on which stories you submitted and where they went. It’s a great way to see how your writing has grown and note which publications you liked the most/had the most success with.

My submissions spreadsheet contains labeled columns for things like:

Date of submission

The story’s title

The page length/word count

The genre

The publication mae

The publication type

URL of publication if applicable

Final date of submissions

Date of notice if one is given

Potential prize money if applicable

Rejection or acceptance when notified

Some places only want unpublished writers, but most only want stories that haven't been previously published or placed in contest results. Keeping track of which stories receive prizes/publications makes it much easier to submit qualifying works in the future.

5. Evaluate Your Publishing Contract

Many publishers require writers to sign a contract so the legal reality of the transaction is clear to both parties. This happens for both short stories and long form work. You’ll have to review things like:

Allowing them to have print rights (typically worldwide because things are published online)

Allowing them to publish your picture and bio that is usually included in the submission form

Allowing them exclusivity (you may need to wait a specific time period before submitting the same story to other publishers/contests or selling it on your website)

Agreeing to author’s warranties (this means you agree that you wrote the story, it isn’t plagiarized, it isn’t libelous, and you don’t want it to be public domain)

Agreeing to a termination clause (the publisher typically reserves the right to terminate your publication contract for things like discovering plagiarism, getting sued for libel, if you sell the story to another publication within their exclusive time frame, etc.)

Agreeing to a reversion of rights clause (you’ll get all of the above rights to sell/submit the story if the publisher doesn’t get your story published by the deadline included in your contract)

Agreeing to payment terms (if you’ll be paid based on how many magazine copies are sold, based on your word/page count, or if you’ll get a flat fee). Also, how you’ll get paid (in installments, within a time frame after publication, via direct deposit or check).

A big thing to note—if a publisher doesn’t include a reversion of rights clause, they essentially want to lock your story within their publishing company permanently. You’ll never get the rights back for submitting or publishing it elsewhere. That includes if you write a collection of short stories and want to publish an anthology—you wouldn’t get to include the story taken by the original publisher.

It’s very important to know your rights as a writer before submitting.

You can read more about contract details over at Writing Cooperative.

And you can always look through Writer Beware, which tracks scams and legitimate publication opportunities.

-----

Hopefully this helps you get started with your next venture in getting published! The process doesn’t have to feel as confusing as it often does. Best of luck! 💛

#writing resources #publishing resources #publishing short stories #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writing short stories #short story resources #writing advice #writing tips #writing community #writing help #creative writing

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husbandhoshi · 2 years

Note

🦋anon here !!! thoughts on your first time riding seokmin? i feel like it’d be half-encouragement from him and half-him losing it over how amazing you feel on top of him ✨

wc: 5.6k

notes: bff2l seokmin x f!reader, established relationship, big dick!seokmin, fingering, piv sex, protected sex, lots of sex and lots of fluff

[part 1] [part 1.5]

"I knew it!"

Soonyoung whacks the table and stands up, eyes glittering as the whole restaurant (and then some) turns to look your way.

"You guys literally wouldn't stop making googly eyes at each other when we all went out last week. And no one believed me!"

"Can you keep it down," you say, desperately trying (and failing) to suppress the bloom of laughter in your chest. "This isn't an episode of Maury."

"Except he is the father, right? Because you call him daddy?" Soonyoung winks devilishly, and Seokmin is all smiles as per usual, except you don't miss how he glances over at you to gauge your reaction first.

"Please shut up before I reveal your laundry list of even more embarrassing...preferences. To put it politely," you retort.

"So I'm right is what you're saying."

And as if he was in a cartoon, Seokmin's eyes widen so big, you think they might just fall out of their sockets.

We'll unpack that later, you tell yourself. You've got enough to handle now—never did you think you'd be so ridiculously happy to reveal to Soonyoung, of all people, the inner workings of your intimate life.

But you are, you're more than happy because you're dating your best friend, your better half, the glowing boy sitting next to you. And even just thinking about what he had said, that he's liked you for years now, sends an unreasonable amount of serotonin to your brain and all the butterflies one could handle everywhere else.

Instead of telling Soonyoung off, you decide to bypass the daddy topic altogether and let your very pointed eye roll do all the talking.

"Fine, fine," he relents, pulling out his phone with a triumphant grin. "Didn't see you as the daddy type anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" you protest. "Please don't tell me you're texting that Maury joke to the group chat."

You notice Seokmin likes squeezing your hand when he laughs. It's yet another thing you're learning about him; it gives you the craziest head rush knowing that even though you thought you knew everything there was to know about your best friend, dating him only drew you in deeper, taught you new things everyday. Like how he only uses the yellow heart emoji for you, or the slow, romantic move of his lips when you kiss in the morning and the rough of his hands up your shirt.

"No, I'm telling Cheol he owes me twenty bucks." He pauses. "But I should, huh?"

It's in the parking lot of Seokmin's apartment complex, with his hand on your thigh, when he asks, "Daddy, huh?"

You know he's mostly joking—he still blushes when he sees you in a bra—but for some reason, the whole thing makes your head spin.

"Not really, but I didn't think it was your thing either." The weight of the moment sinks in, the heat of his hand, the hem of your skirt pushed up your legs. "Is it?"

"To be honest," he starts, pausing to look at you, all flushed and pretty—god, he's cute. "It's kinda embarrassing, but—," Seokmin buffers momentarily. "I'm into whatever you're into. I'll do anything."

The instant the words leave his mouth, you're on him.

It's all hands, your sweaty palms over the center console to lean in and kiss him, the desperate fumble of the seatbelt buckle. Hands that you've known your whole life but are something new, reborn in this moment.

"Fuck, fuck," you breathe, and you grab his hand to shove under your skirt and press right against your panties, already warm with arousal. "See how wet I am? Just from your hand on my leg?" Your lips meet his again, tongue and teeth and the moan in the back of his throat as he starts to rub you through your underwear. "I should be the one embarrassed."

His thumb presses against your clit, just enough to make you shudder.

"No, never." He leans in to kiss you but opts to press his forehead against yours instead, and the hand under your skirt stills so you can actually focus on what he's saying. "Can I say this? I want you so bad."

"Then what are we waiting for!"

And you almost close your own damn hand in the car door with excitement.

You wish you could say you acted with more poise on the way to his room (still empty—thank god Soonyoung has a social life), but all you can say is that you pray security never watches the elevator footage.

When you're in front of his apartment door, he drops his keys, and in your shared horny stupor, you both fall to your knees to pick it up, laughing between kisses as you sort through the seemingly endless keyring for the right one.

As soon as the door is closed behind you, Seokmin's leaning you against it, your bottom lip between his teeth in another kiss.

"Are we gonna fuck," you breathe, and your hands search for the hem of his tee to pull it off. "Please tell me we're gonna fuck."

You meet his eyes, tar black with want, then remember your composure.

"Only if you wanna, though. Swear," you add.

Seokmin clasps your hands, still wrapped around the cotton of his shirt, to lift them up to his lips and kiss them, like you're in a fairytale.

"Respectfully, there is nothing I want more than to blow your back out." His eyes widen when he realizes his brain filter has faltered yet again, and he self corrects—"I-I mean, I was planning for it to be more romantic, but—"

"Yes. The answer is yes."

You let your eyes meet once again, and it feels like something is truly unlocked in you.

This time the sex means something, these years and years of puppy love, of trying and failing to love other people because it's always been each other. And you want him, all of him, more than anything else.

The race to take each other's clothes off is neither poetic nor graceful, but there's something about the way your lips can't be apart for more than a second, how your blood feels like it sizzles under your skin at every touch, and the youthful, innocent way you both giggle when you almost fall over trying to step out of your panties—it's neither of your first times, but it sure feels that way, in the best way possible.

The plane of the door is cool against your bare back, and you arch into it as Seokmin's teeth find the soft skin of your neck and trail down to your collarbones.

When your hand wraps around his cock, hot and heavy, he whimpers against your skin. Fuck, it's not the first time you've seen his size (not even close), but you feel your little hand barely come around it and it still makes your knees weak.

"G-gotta prep you," Seokmin breathes. You instinctively hike your thigh up, and he gladly pins it against the door with one big hand and uses his free one to run a careful, reverent finger over the heat of your cunt. "Is this ok?" he asks, eyes glittery under his lashes as he kisses the bloom of a new hickey.

"Yeah, fuck, 's more than ok." you say it so easily, but the mere idea of having him finally inside you actually makes your pussy ache from being so turned on. Luckily, he's not about to deprive you. The pads of his fingers are so big, so rough, against your sensitive skin, and you cry out when he presses a careful digit to your clit.

He's not brave enough to say it now, but you can tell he loves how easy, fragile you become even under the simplest of touches. How his favorite person, strong and confident, can be reduced to this. And he reveres, drinks in the sight of you, heavy-lidded and debauched against his front door, desperately holding his forearm as he pushes just a single finger into your heat.

"Oh, god," you pant, trying to anchor yourself to jacking your boyfriend off. It's hard, given how his hand just feels so, so much better than any toy you have in your bedside drawer, but the way you've also got him under your spell is nothing short of intoxicating.

You watch, almost with an academic intensity, as his jaw just falls open when you run your thumb over a vein on the underside of his cock, fucking him with your fist just as he likes.

No, it hasn't been long since you confessed to him—yeah, his dick was also in your hand even then (but you never were much of a planner)—but you had tried to make up for lost time since.

You had, as Soonyoung so horribly liked to put it, gone to third base (never mind that he knew nothing else about baseball and thought there were more than three bases), but nothing further.

There's territory you had never dared to tread, even as best friends, but as you watch him melt into yet another kiss and feel the race of his heartbeat under the broad, tanned plane of his chest, secrets only yours to keep, you realize there's nowhere you'd rather be.

He pushes a second digit into you, and, regrettably, you're already almost over the edge. Who can blame you? Once he learned what you liked, he had no difficulty in spoiling you—you could almost say he was addicted to getting you off, the way he loved you. He curls his fingers deep inside you, right against your g-spot, and a white hot bolt of pleasure races up your spine.

(You remember the first time you came on his hand. He sucked on your clit and spread you open with just two fingers, and you came so hard you cried. He kissed all the tears from your cheeks, and after double, triple, and quadruple checking you were fine, he buried his head in your cunt to make you cry all over again.)

"N-need three," you gasp, tightening your hold on his wrist. You can swear his dick jumps a mile in the grip of your other hand, and you release it so he doesn't cum too quickly. "Gotta, gotta make sure you fit in my tiny cunt, huh?"

Seokmin nods, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, and gladly obliges, feeling you stretch around his three fingers. Judging by the way he sucks in a deep breath, sounding somewhere between a whine and a wounded noise, you know he's imagining the hug of your pussy around his cock, just how goddamn tight and slutty you'll really be just for him.

God, three fingers barely fit, but as he pushes past the first knuckle, the pressure in your belly coils more tightly than you could ever have imagined.

Helplessly, you watch the muscles on his forearm shift as he continues fucking you open on his hand.

You remember the summer you noticed how strong he had gotten. He was a junior lifeguard, and your days were filled with the endless August sun and his suntanned figure, painted crimson by the sunset with a surfboard on his shoulder.

That first night, the minute he dropped you off at your place, you had snaked a guilty hand down your bikini, playing with your clit and imagining it was him splitting you open against that lifeguard tower.

"God, fuck, how are you so fucking tight?" he murmurs under his breath. Hearing his voice drop like that makes you clench hard, and as the heel of his palm crashes into your clit once again, you cum so hard, your knees really do buckle.

He's got you, pulling you flush to his body with a strong arm around the small of your back as you catch your breath.

"Careful—did too good of a job, huh?" he laughs, sunshine smile making his cheeks glow.

He is so goddamn cute, but being pressed against his bare chest is not helping the situation downstairs, and instead of kissing his nose like the romantic in you wants to, you lean into him so that he can feel how hard your nipples are, how desperate you really are. And then you kiss his nose (impulse control is hard!).

"You did so, so good," you say, trailing slow, wet kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his earlobe. Your hand finds his weeping cock again, and you can hear him swallow hard as you start playing with him again. "I need you, Seok, 'm so ready for you."

"H-how do you want me?" Seokmin asks breathlessly. "I'll do it all, fuck, whatever you want."

"You're lucky I'm feeling nice right now." You kiss his jaw again, and you absolutely delight in how quickly he tips his chin up so you can better access him. You adore that about him, how vulnerable and trusting he is around you. His love is open-hearted, and you never, ever want to take that for granted. "On the bed, preferably. I want our first time to be on a flat surface."

"Door's not flat enough?" he laughs, but he starts walking backwards, arms still wrapped tight around your middle. He lets you guide him all the way to the bedroom, which should have been an easy task if not for Seokmin almost tripping over air every three steps in his excitement. "Could be sexy?" He wiggles his eyebrows, and you're too horny to stop yourself from laughing in the absolutely lovesick way you tend to laugh nowadays.

"Can't ride you standing up, can I?"

And then Seokmin bites his lip to stifle what could possibly be the most embarrassing moan in the world before you push him so the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed.

"Come on, now," you tease. Watching him scramble back to lay against the pillows, monster cock slapping his washboard abs, feels like a borderline crime, but it's so hot in that undeniably Seokmin way. You can't possibly describe it with any other words.

"Hold on," he says, opening one of the bedside drawers. He fumbles around for a beat, the weak lamp not helping much, and procures a shiny foil-wrapped condom. "Got the one that's supposed to make the girl feel good."

"Oh my god." You watch as your stupidly hot boyfriend tears the thing open with his teeth, grinning all the while, and you feel your heart actually swell to an inhumane size. Wonderful, kind Seokmin, who has the biggest goddamn dick you've ever seen and still gets the condom that would make you feel good, just in case.

"If I neigh, will you laugh?" Seokmin asks, completely serious as he rolls the condom onto his dick. It takes you completely by surprise, and he doesn't even need to say anything else for you to laugh, a full body one. He laughs too, and you know he's rambling because that's what he does when he has the jitters, which you somehow have too.

And when the silence settles, it's just you and him and the dew of the lamplight. He admires you as you stand by the bedside, quietly as to not make you feel rushed. There's no reason why either of you should be anything but comfortable (you've seen him with rivers of snot running down his face—on multiple occasions, but the worst was when he didn't get the lead role in the school musical senior year. And you two don't even talk about the time he walked in on you, butt-naked, washing your panties in his bathroom sink when your period took you by surprise. Like a good best friend, he drove to the drugstore to buy you pads. Now there's always a box in his bathroom drawer, like an unsaid kindness).

You straddle him, cunt hot and slick over his abs as you settle onto your thighs, and you feel yet another rush overtake you. Somehow, somewhere inside the pit of your chest, you're a bit nervous.

Even now, when he's sucking the breath out of your lungs in another searing kiss, you feel this overwhelming need to be perfect for him. More than a best friend.

"Sorry, I—," you pause to peck the corner of his smile, feeling the words spin around in your brain like it's a washing machine. "Are we doing this?"

"Do you want to?" His hands run up and down your sides, comfortingly. "We don't have to."

"No, I really, really want to." And it's hard to say it, because you've always been the more confident half, but you do. "I just wanna do it right."

"Baby." The squeeze of your hands again. "You could never do it wrong. Ever."

The earnest way he looks at you makes all of the confidence flood back into your body, and you're suddenly overcome with all the affection your body can handle.

That, and he tenses his abs as he settles deeper onto the bed, and you feel it on your clit, reminding you that you are, in fact, so turned on you might actually die.

Get out of your head and fuck your best friend, you tell yourself, and you wonder why you were so silly for worrying earlier.

"Ready?" Seokmin asks with a gentle tap of the soft flesh at your hips.

"You should be asking yourself that," you laugh, fully recovered and now admiring the mess you've made out of Seokmin. His lips are swollen and glossy, and there's nothing, absolutely nothing, you want to do more than to ruin him.

"That's my girl," he says warmly. "So pretty when you laugh."

"Your girl, huh?" You begin rocking your hips back and forth, letting his dick slide between your pussy lips. "Mmm, I like the sound of that."

You watch his eyes flutter shut as he slowly exhales, finally feeling the relief you're sure he was so desperately craving. "Y-yeah, fuck. I'll call you whatever you want."

"Whatever I want? Oh, you better be careful giving me that kind of power." You grin down at Seokmin, who is furrowing his brow perhaps in the cutest way you've seen from him yet.

You can tell he's trying his best to hold back—his hands rest firm on your hips, and he can very well grind you on his cock himself. You feel the latex slide over the hood of your clit as you sway oh so slowly over him, watching every little muscle in his face as his lip quivers with another broken moan.

"God, you're so hot," he whispers. "Can't believe we're doing this. 'M so lucky."

"Please shut up." You lean down to peck him and are met with the tiniest, softest little kisses all over your lips and your chin because he can't be bothered to aim when the love of his life is about to sit on his dick for the first time. "You're gonna make me like you more."

"That's a good thing, right?"

Deciding to put him out of his misery, you reach behind you to position his dick at your entrance. It's already so, so sensitive from all the foreplay that even just feeling the pressure of it against your skin has you curling your toes in anticipation.

You sink down on him for what feels like a fraction of a millimeter, and already you know he's big big in you. You suck in a deep breath, giving yourself a beat to adjust as your lungs fill and your cunt clenches so hard, other muscles down there feel compromised.

With both of your hands against his chest, hair mussed and cheeks flushed, you look so much more beautiful than Seokmin could ever dream of, but he's too focused on how you're biting your cheek and gasping at how he just stuffs you so, so fucking full.

"A-am I too big? We can, like, stop," he stammers. "Had no idea your pussy's so fucking tiny, holy shit."

Yeah, maybe it's been a while since you've been fucked by a non-silicone dick (hard to sleep with other men when you've wanted only one for god knows how long). But you know the drill, and you bob, albeit a little noncommittally, up and down, and fuck his cockhead in and out of you. The first time's always a stretch, the second time a little less so, and by the third, you're already fuzzy-brained.

"I-I'm serious," Seokmin babbles, obviously not in control of his dick as you feel it pulse inside of you.

"Shhshhshh—" you gently cover his mouth with one hand to prevent any more of his worrying. "Look at what you do to me," you say, voice barely above a whisper, as you splay out your other hand over your stomach. And then you sink down as far as you can on him, slowly, torturously, and you see his eyes widen as the back of your hand swells with how you give way for his cockhead and bulge out with his size.

"Mmph—shit," Seokmin whimpers, still muffled by your hand. "Holy."

He watches as his cockhead disappears over and over again into the heat of your cunt, god, he can hear Soonyoung's voice in his head (it's saying, just the tip, just the tip, in that infuriatingly endearing middle-school cadence), but he had no idea it would look and feel so good.

"You're perfect, so fucking perfect. So good at riding me," he manages, fingernails leaving crescents in your sides with how he's clinging to you.

With every bounce of your hips, you start to fall into a comfortable rhythm. You're sinking deeper and deeper onto him, and although it's not much, you're hell-bent on fucking the shape of his dick into you until he can fit all the way, till he can see you take all of him, feel you flush against him.

"Fuck, no wonder your girlfriends always wanted to stay the night, cock's so fucking good," you sigh, already feeling an orgasm building up in your tummy.

"Jealous?" You pout down at him in reply. "You really shouldn't be."

He experimentally rocks his hips up, meeting you in the middle so you don't have to do all the work, and his cockhead drags against you in a way that rips some strangled, pornstar mewl from your chest and makes your thighs positively shake around him.

"Was thinking about you the whole time," Seokmin finishes, brows knit together as you squeeze so tight around him, his words going right to your cunt as you process what he just said.

You imagine a pretty girl's lips wrapped around Seokmin's cock, all the while he's thinking about you taking him down your throat, cum running down your chin. No wonder when it actually happened last week, he looked at you like you had walked straight out of a dream.

"Every time?"

He nods and rocks up again, and you feel like an organ will explode inside you. Maybe it will, given how you've got that tummy bulge you've only dreamed of in your horniest fantasies.

"S-Seok," you breathe, tears pooling at your lashline as he holds you still so he can fuck the few inches of cock into you that you've taken so far. "A-ahh, fuck, oh, oh my god."

"Feels good? Let me take care of you, angel? Please?"

It feels like a rhetorical question given how he's already started to bounce you up and down like a fleshlight, but you're not coherent enough to even think about the answer pouring out of your mouth, more, m-more, deeper, please, please, god please. You look down as he enters you again, and you see just how, even though you haven't taken him all the way yet, you've creamed his cock so fucking good, it should be on the front page of Pornhub.

It's then that you realize it's not just a want for him to split you open, it's a need.

Partially because it's been the subject of half of your teenage dreams, partially because you realize you are out of practice and your poor legs may just give out.

Seokmin hesitates briefly, likely (validly) concerned he's going to break you if he puts his whole cock in you.

"Remember how you said you wanted to break my back?" you say in your most level, non-fucked out voice. "Like twenty minutes ago."

"Respectfully," he adds. He smiles, but his jaw is clenched with the feeling of your heat around him.

"Well. I need you to make good on that promise." You sink down on him as far as you can go, because if you go any further, you're convinced all the muscles in your thighs will actually liquefy. "N-need your help, baby."

It seems like that's all he needs to hear, because he's hoisting you off his body as gently as he can and onto your back, not forgetting the pillow under your hips (thoughtful as ever).

And it's like this, with your hands laced with his above your head, eyes locked, and lips so close you're breathing the same breaths, that he fucks into you, deep, all the way.

He bottoms out in you, slowly, carefully, and it feels like fireworks go off in your body as the stretch turns to liquid pleasure, the mind-numbing kind you've been craving.

"F-fuck..." you whine, near-drooling already.

"Everything okay so far?"

You squeeze his hands in reply and he squeezes back, like he always does. You know Seokmin said he wished things were more romantic, but you can't imagine this being any more perfect.

Now, pinned under Seokmin's gaze, you feel swallowed whole by years and years of caged up affection.

He's let it leak, the glimmers of just how fucking much he loves you, needs you.

The long, lingering gazes (he was never subtle, and he's more shameless about it now that you've started dating), and you hate to admit it, but he's the first thing you look for in any room. How it's never just one orgasm with him, how he can spend hours with his hand under the blanket, between your thighs as you both ignore yet another movie.

He still pretends flowers he picks one by one at the farmers market are premade bouquets.

And now, Seokmin's holding your hands as he stretches your cunt like a pornstar, and you're in love with him.

When you smile at him, his already slow pace falters, and he buries his head in the space between your neck and your shoulder.

"Sorry," he laughs quietly, pressing a wet kiss to your bare skin. "Get embarrassed sometimes around you. Can you believe it? I still do."

"No reason to. You're doing so good," you reply, a bit strangled because he shifts his hips further up into you so his cockhead's snug against your g-spot. "God, Seok, you're so fucking hot. We've been best friends half my life and I haven't told you that nearly enough."

You can feel his face heat up, but he doesn't relent. "God, I love you." he says, pressing another kiss to your neck, right at your pulse point so you keen right into him. "Can I fuck you? Better than my other girlfriends?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

This time, he fucks you. For real.

His hips crash into the back of your thighs so hard, you move up the mattress, and he abandons the whole hand-holding thing to instead wrap his arms around your torso, pressing your chests flush and connecting your bodies—skin to skin, heart to heart, his forehead against yours.

"Mmmh, god, fuck, so fucking big," you drawl, jaw hanging open as you slur your words. "A-ah, fucking me so good, baby."

Seokmin watches you, crowned by his bedsheets, as you beg for him harder, deeper—seeing you so ready and desperate for him fills him with a possessiveness he's never experienced before.

And this time it's his turn to smile, but he can't smile at you like that. Not when he's fucking you so good, you're ruined for anyone else.

"You like it like this, huh?" he asks. "Like feeling me split your perfect fucking pussy open? Better than your other boyfriends, huh?"

You nod, babbling yes, yes, yes over again. Something about how low and gravelly his voice gets in your ear, how he asks you if he's pleasing you in the most sincere voice as he slams into you hard enough to bruise, is sending you spiraling into a high you don't think your body is ready to handle yet.

"Seok, baby, tell me how good I'm taking you," you whine, toes curling and thighs shaking as they're wrapped around him. Your cunt is squeezing around him so hard, you're surprised he's able to still move. "Wanna hear it from you."

"S-so good, 's like you're made for me." Seokmin's delirious with pleasure, licking your neck and trailing open mouth kisses wherever he can. "Your perfect face and your perfect cunt, everything." His hips stutter inside you, god, you're so high, you're just making noises at this point.

When he bottoms out fully one more time, your orgasm hits you before you even comprehend it coming, and you cry out so loudly, it feels like your soul leaves your body. Your back arches off the bed, and you tremble limply in Seokmin's arms.

He moans, full bodied and low, only seconds after—shit, get so tight when you cum—when he cums in the condom, and your mind fogs with the brief thought of him pumping all that cum into your kitty and knocking you up. Maybe he'd eat you out afterward too, but the thought is making you horny for an experience you cannot physically handle right now.

"Oh my god," you croak. You blink dumbly up at your boyfriend, who now hovers over you, equally as spent and lovestruck. "Why the fuck didn't we do this sooner?"

"They say the best things are worth waiting for," he replies, laughing softly as he tucks a piece of sweaty hair behind your ear. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to how beautiful you are in these moments, dazed and radiant and covered in him. "That was okay, right? As good as you expected?"

"Better. And I have a pretty good imagination." Your lips feel like they're moving through quicksand and your eyelids heavy, but you know it's the post-orgasm haze you're wading through. And you don't even want to think about how your entire lower body will feel in approximately thirty minutes. "I think you fucked the spirit out of my body. It's a miracle I'm talking to you right now."

You hear a dull smack in your vicinity and a quiet whoops, and you hope it's not the tied-off condom missing the trash can (it is. He has terrible aim.)

But you let him sidle next to you in bed and swallow you up in his big, warm arms. "Miracle, huh? Guess I'm pretty lucky then."

"You're not supposed to be so sweet right now, you know. It's hurting my feelings," you jokingly protest, grinning when he kisses your nose.

"So you don't want me to order tacos? For after your nap?"

And of course both of those things sound perfect, because you forget Seokmin knows you inside and out (in more than one way now, you suppose), and he's spent more than one evening waking you up after you crash on his couch with a post-nap snack.

"Hmm.. But a nap is tempting...So are tacos." You settle into his warmth, enjoying the wonderful yet terrifying feeling of being so known. But you wouldn't have it any other way. "Reparations for you actually breaking my back."

"Wait. Did I actually?"

"No, god no," you laugh. "Just maybe my legs and also my pussy."

"Oh, good." He smiles wide, the kind where his whole face scrunches up in joy. "Then I have permission to carry you around for the next 24 hours?"

"I won't stop you," you say, mid-yawn. "Does Soonyoung know I'm over? Should we at least try to make it look like we didn't almost rail on his front door?"

"He probably already knows," Seokmin replies. "He told me to do the pillow thing when you were in the restaurant bathroom."

"Gross. But good. It worked." You shut your eyes tight. "God, I can't believe they all know about us now. I feel so seen. So perceived. Everyone will know I was bullshitting when I said there was no way I had feelings for you."

"Is that a bad thing? Do you wish we kept it a secret?"

You bury your face into the side of his body and wail, "No. That's the worst thing about it. That's how much I like you."

It's true—even you, self-proclaimed mystery, wants everyone in the world to know you're dating Lee Seokmin.

He kisses your forehead, more tenderly than you think you deserve.

"Take your nap. Wouldn't want you to wake up to cold nachos."

"Oh, you're ordering nachos too? I love you. I love you so fucking much."

He laughs because he knows you're probably delirious from how you got your world rocked less than half an hour ago, but you mean it. You mean it with your whole fucking chest, the one presently covered in spit and sweat and hickeys, and as he squeezes your hand one last time, you think about how Seokmin said he was the lucky one between the two of you.

No, there's no way. Not when you're lying in the arms of someone who looks like they've been carved out of marble, who just happens to know every single one of your phone numbers and your drive-thru orders and the answers to your online banking security questions.

"I know you're still awake," Seokmin chides softly, pressing the furrow between your brows (it's your thinking face).

"Fine. But I really do love you, okay?"

"Love you more."

You'd fight him on this one too, but you're too happy to say another word.

#ITS FINALLY DONE #never mind that this is like the 2nd longest thing ive ever written <3 #mine #seokmin #seokmin smut #dk smut #dokyeom smut #seventeen smut #ask #anon #🦋 anon

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