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7wanderingpaws · 3 years

Text

Mess We Made - first (m)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: arranged marriage au (not bbh), doctor AU, highschool AU (first chapter only), university AU, fluff, ANGST

Words: 9.4K

WARNINGS: mature content, unprotected sex, cheating (not bbh), terrible family relations

Quick A/N: Finally, the anticipated full story for this drabble is coming! This will have more chapters! I am a bit self-conscious about this one. But I think it is a good challenge to grow as a writer. Hopefully it worked. Please let me know what you thought? ^^

Plot: You were willing to put the both of you through suffering without realizing you might hurt Baekhyun's feelings in the process. Even though he was yours, you were never his. And he would not stand in the way anymore.

tags: @byunfirstlady (hope you dont mind the tag; you were interest and since its been ages I tagged you to let you know 🥺 if you want to be tagged/untagged please reply to this post)

parts: first -- second -- third -- fourth (final)

Mess We Made, part 1

“Psst,” you heard from your right side as you walked through the corridors of your high school. Before you even managed to look in the direction of where the sound came from, a hand grabbed you, swiftly bringing you into the darkness of the corner, the cold wall pressing into your back. Baekhyun came into view with his breath-taking smile as his lips hovered over yours, stretched out in a mischievous smile. “It's me.”

Instantly, you grinned, mimicking his wide smile. “I was looking for you.”

“Well, I found you first,” he whispered, and leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle manner.

He had been your boyfriend since the second half of the first year in high school. You were now both seniors, ready to graduate and enter your chosen universities. You both chose the same one, the idea of not being able to see each other too ugly to risk going to different schools.

You felt Baekhyun's hands slide down your sides, reaching the hem of your short uniform skirt and his feather-like touch made you squirm and laugh right into his mouth. He followed suit with giggles. “It tickles,” you said, and looked into his smiley eyes.

He hummed, though didn't stop his wandering hand as he massaged the upper part of your thigh, the touch sending trembles down your legs, your heartbeat growing frantic. “But you like it. When I touch you there.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, growing red. “Yeah. But only when it's you.”

These final months in high school were those moments when boys were becoming very horny, the skirts of the uniforms girls had to wear driving some of them crazy. Baekhyun, thankfully, wasn't as affected, though you were thinking if it was because he already had access to you. You would tear his head off if he tried to touch another girl, but he just wasn't that type of a guy.

Same went for you, too. Baekhyun had a sharp gaze and if he saw a guy trying to lift your skirt up, he would just deal with them in his hapkido language, and nobody wanted that. Baekhyun was a literal martial arts superstar of the school. And also a terrible nerd. He was cool and nerdy. What a combo.

While that was him, the smiling, mischievous boy many girls grew a humongous crush on, you were the more unfortunate one, though many would immediately disagree. A daughter to a huge business company, money was something that was never an issue, to put it lightly. Having your own personal driver, needing to attend pilates classes to keep your form, visiting a dermatologist at least twice per month, eating small portions… everything that would scream rich, was basically you, as much as you hated it.

The reason for your hatred was simple: you didn't belong to Baekhyun's world. Likewise, he didn't belong to yours. But how would that define anything, when both of you were literally all over each other at any given opportunity, feelings too strong to fight them? Did social status really mean something? Baekhyun was studying hard to become a doctor, wanting to bring children to this world, and he had one of the best grade averages in the entire institution. Meanwhile, you, of whom it was highly expected of, didn't have it like him. Studying was not exactly your forte, and you ended up following your parents requirements of applying for business school, so that you would study something that was running in the family. As long as they did not intervene in your relationship with Baekhyun, you would accept and agree to anything. But Baekhyun was untouchable. No matter what would happen, it couldn't, by any means, include him and you always made sure about it.

“'Cause you are mine,” he murmured in your ear seductively, and you melted in his arms.

“That, I am. Always,” you replied breathily, standing on your tiptoes to crash your lips on his before anyone could catch you not spending the break outside of the building.

You just wanted to spend time with him before your family would whisk you away from him, like they always did. Rarely have you had the power to decide your free time, sitting at your father's meetings, mothers cocktails, boredly listening to conversations about money transactions that made you feel uneasy.

“Plans for tonight?” he asked as he gave your thigh a final squeeze before letting go, patting your skirt back down to its normal form.

You hummed, leaning back on the wall lazily, your chest pushed out. “Grandparents are coming over. From mother’s side,” you said, already tired at the idea of the dreadful encounter.

Baekhyun nodded, though you could sense he was a bit disappointed. He never said anything, though. It was safe to say he was used to the way things were working with your family. After all, it had been two years by now. Two years of your relationship. And with each passing moment, the both of you seemed to grow even fonder of each other. He never complained. He loved you.

“Sorry,” you sighed again, closing your eyes for a moment when you felt his palm on your cheek that forced you to open them again, his gaze gentle. He leaned in, nudging you with his nose.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, love.”

“Of course there is,” you replied passionately. “I really want to spend more time with you, Baekhyun.”

“You will. We will be together. Once university starts-”

“Can you understand that you consume my thoughts every second? And when I am not with you, the time just drags and it's like a small hell because I cannot see your face-”

Baekhyun kissed you, interrupting your small outburst. You moaned quietly, shyly, bringing him closer by his tie. He played with your lips, teasing you with his tongue, but he wouldn't go further than that. You were in school and as much as he was mischievous, he wouldn't go that far. “I love you,” he whispered.

You smiled brightly. “I love you, too.”

“And I will wait for you no matter how long it takes, okay? Don't feel sorry. I should study anyway,” he shrugged nonchalantly as if it really weren’t a big deal.

You smiled proudly while massaging his ear with your hand. “Always responsible, my prince.”

Just like you knew he would be, your driver was waiting for you, his face typically devoid of any emotions as you trudged to the school gates, ignoring the snickering gazes of students scattered around the entrance. Baekhyun was with you, hand in hand and just before you would reach the car, you stopped to kiss him goodbye.

“Text me,” you demanded, looking into his eyes.

He nodded, and his long hair fell into his eyes. “I will.”

Not wanting to let go just yet, you took the opportunity and brushed his soft hair out of his eyes while he gently gazed into yours.

“Promise me you won’t go against your parents,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet and hushed.

You focused on him, slowly retreating your hand from his hair. “What do you mean?” you asked, despite having a very good hunch. He knew your family very well, if not from what you have told him already, then from the experiences of when you would bring him home to study together and his parents would be cold and heartless, especially to you, not accepting your relationship with Baekhyun at all.

He sighed and looked somewhere else for a moment, letting the surroundings absorb in his mind before facing you. “I don’t want something happening to you. It just seems to me that the more you go against them, the more they will push you, mentally or physically. And I don’t want that.”

His worries made you feel warm. Someone actually cared for your well-being, unlike other people you were blood-related to. “I will be a good girl, hm?” you murmured, hearing your driver opening his door to get out, obviously impatient. “I will obey. For you.”

Baekhyun nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s the talk. Now go, before Mr Lee loses his cool,” he said, stepping away from you and nudging his head towards your driver who already opened your car door, obviously urging you to hurry.

You pressed your lips together and waved at your boyfriend one more time before turning and sliding inside the car, the door shutting loudly behind you, voicing the driver's dissatisfaction with your attitude.

Even if you wanted to wave at Baekhyun, you knew he wouldn’t see you. The windows were completely black.

You were dressing up for the dreaded dinner when your mother entered your room. Without knocking, of course. She looked at your dress of dark-red colour combined with a cute black bow on your back. The A skirt was hugging your curves just the right way and the hem stopped in the middle of your thighs that were covered in black stockings. Stylish, you thought.

“Slutty,” was what she said, frowning, her forehead wrinkled into three layers of skin. “Change it.”

You looked at her from behind your shoulder, sending her a poker face before facing your mirror again. “I like it. I won’t change it.”

Your mother sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re ridiculous. Who are you dressing up for? Your lover boy isn’t coming tonight.”

“And whose fault is that?” you fired back, hating whenever they as much as mentioned him. He was too good to be pronounced in their mouths. “It ain’t mine, mother. So stop irking me!”

“Watch your tone,” she said in a low voice before sighing deeply and shaking her head. “Listen. Your grandfather and grandmother will be here soon, so change. You know they are very conservative.”

“I’m not even showing skin,” you muttered, frustrated.

“You’re still a high school student. You aren’t supposed to be looking like this.”

Swiftly turning around, you walked to her slowly. “I’m not supposed to be having a chest? A butt? I am still growing, you know. Out of all people, you should know.”

“You have those because you eat more than you should and thanks to your boyfriend you are more horny than it’s okay for someone your age which leads you to have a big appetite,” she deadpanned. “So cover yourself up. This is not a strip club.”

Your mouth fell open, complete disbelief widening your eyes. She must have not been serious. But you knew she was, so what was more annoying was the fact that you still got angry and you still fought back, despite knowing their preferences for years. You tried to ignore the sting in your chest when she talked about food and about the way your body naturally worked. You were a hormonal teenager. Why couldn’t she understand?

Quickly remembering the promise you made to Baekhyun, you collected yourself and, although in pain, you nodded. But before you could answer, your mother continued: “Besides. Given the nature of our get-together today, you do need to look more responsible.”

That made you frown in confusion. “What does that mean?”

She smiled, though it was rather smug than anything else. “You will find out soon enough.”

“Mum!”

“Change,” she commanded, something dark flashing in her eyes before she walked out of the room.

Annoying tears burned in your eyes, and you quickly grabbed your phone, wanting to complain to Baekhyun, but he beat you to it and you found messages from him sent only a couple of minutes ago that immediately pacified your wild emotions.

i’m thinking of you ❤️ always

even now

and even now

and now too

gorgeous 😘🥰

You smiled through your tears, the need of wanting to be with him growing by tenfold. He melted all the negative emotions you had in yourself and you sat down on your bed, your eyes scanning the texts, the emoticons, and then the picture you had for him. He was being silly on it, wearing your sunglasses and pretending to be a girl group member looking seductive.

With a final look, you nodded to yourself, determined to follow what you had promised.

Changing into a white shirt politely tucked into a black pencil skirt with your hair strictly tied into a knot, you looked like any worker in your father's company; not standing out, conservative and a little bit numb.

Only one thing was eating you away as you made your way downstairs to the huge dining hall, your parents already welcoming your grandparents whose eyes gave you a strict look over.

The nature of this dinner.

What could that be?

All of the dinners had something into it. Your parents never did anything just for the sake of doing it. If there wasn’t something profitable in the action, they would never bother. But what did they want from your grandparents?

“Oh, finally you decided to show up. What are these manners, letting your old folks wait for you, hm?” Your grandmother’s words sounded like crow’s wailing. Annoying, terribly annoying.

“Excuse me. Had to dress up properly for your company,” you replied in a calm tone, not paying attention to her nagging. You walked up to them and bowed politely, respecting them.

Your grandma scoffed, frowning at you while your grandfather’s eyes crinkled up a bit in a small smile, though he didn’t say anything besides nodding once to acknowledge your polite greeting.

“Let’s just sit, shall we?” your father voiced, motioning to the prepared dining table adorned in a cream table cloth. “Before the food gets cold.”

“Yes, yes, we have things to discuss anyway,” rasped your grandmother as she sat down.

Your father was at the head of the table while your mother and you sat on his right, your grandparents on the opposite site. You ended up facing your grandfather for which you were thankful. He was one of the less evil. In fact, he barely ever showed any interest in the happenings around the dirty business your family was involved in.

Now that you thought about it, you didn’t know about him and your evil grandma. You had been secluded from any warm interaction since young age, so you never even bothered asking how they met and how they fell in love. How did grandfather even deal with someone like her was beyond your understanding.

Once your mother started talking in her superior tone, you concluded that your grandfather still managed to raise up someone like your mother. He probably wasn’t any better than the rest of the family.

“We have been in close contact with the rival company,” she started and you suppressed the need to roll your eyes.

Servants put all the food in front of you; seaweed soup, lots of side dishes, meat, fish, rice, rice cakes and corn tea. You usually liked the food but given you had to listen to another business talk, you lost your appetite.

“Their son is already in his thirties, so they requested the marriage as soon as our daughter is out of high school.”

You jumped in your seat, knocking your knee in the table rather painfully. You didn’t have time to curse and look at your mother, who continued talking as if nothing was happening: “Obviously we need to finish this deal before any more losses could happen to our business. Their company is overflowing with profit-“

“What are you talking about?” you snapped, not watching your tone that came out rude.

Your father frowned. “Your attitude is honestly disappointing. How can you talk to your mother in that to-“

“I am not getting married to anyone!” you shouted, growing hot-headed, your knee throbbing in pain. “I-I have a university to attend soon! How can I marry before getting a degree?! And I have a boyfriend-“

Your mother laughed drily. “How on earth can you even consider that boy?” she said, looking at you with utmost calmness. “He is just a middle-class boy.”

Your grandmother and father joined her in chuckles. “Don’t be silly,” said your grandmother. “It’s just a high school crush. It’s always about experimenting and not understanding what love is. Silly teenager stuff.”

“What do you know about love?” you asked doubtfully, turning to your grandmother with a death glare to which she returned it back.

“How dare you question your elders?! Calm down this instant and listen!”

If it were possible, fumes would be coming out of your nose and ears. You couldn’t believe what you just heard was true. It couldn’t be. You wouldn’t allow it.

“Besides,” started your father in a scolding manner, “you are not good at studies. We agreed to let you attend the university you chose, but your studies will be fruitless since you didn’t study as you were told to. You aren’t a man either,” he scoffed and gave a side eye to your mother who now froze. “But that isn’t your fault that you weren’t born a man. That’s someone else’s.”

Completely at loss for words, you fell back in your chair, devastated at what you just heard. Not only he degraded you, but he now attacked your mother.

In a sudden need to defend your mother as a woman rather than as your parent, you snapped: “It’s the amount of sperm that a man manages to put into a woman that decides the gender. If it’s anyone’s fault that I am a girl, it’s yours!”

Everyone went silent at what you just said, your father so shocked his mouth hung open. He blinked a few times, regaining his posture but you were already standing up. “I am not marrying anyone! I already have a boy-“

“So you do all the dirty stuff with this boyfriend of yours and that’s why your mouth is so nasty!” came your father’s voice like a thunder.

“She needs to break up with him. He is no good influence on her,” butted in your grandmother nonchalantly as she slurped her seaweed soup.

You snapped your eyes to her, and to your grandfather who was frowning down at his empty plate.

“I won’t break up with Baekhyun.”

“Then keep your delusions up. But once you're out of high school, the ceremony will take place,” said your mother resolutely, sending daggers your way.

“I don’t want to do anything with your business,” you now said in despair. “I don’t want to own your company!”

Your father snickered drily in disgust. “You won’t own our company, daughter. You’re useless as it is, so we are going to merge the companies. That’s the only way we can save our hard work.”

You shook your hair. “No, I refuse!”

“You don’t have a choice,” shrugged your mother now turning back to her plate. “You can do whatever you want, but your fate is in our hands. That’s why,” she emphasized and looked at you, “for your own good, break up with your boyfriend. He is no good news. Save yourself the heartbreak. He is with you for the money anyway.”

You stood frozen, keeping the gasp in. Tears were spilling out of your eyes and you turned around, running back to your room, sobs leaving your mouth.

You always knew your family was a nightmare - cold, scary, emotionless. But this was too much for your young self.

All you wanted was warmth, safety and honest emotions.

All of those were what Baekhyun offered you.

He was more than just a boyfriend.

He was love.

That night, you didn't call Baekhyun, instead deciding to text him back to let him know that everything went fine. He was studying anyway, and if you wanted something, it was for him to become successful in a field that he was passionate about. Unlike you, who barely had any hobbies, let alone passions.

Finally crying yourself to sleep around 3am, your alarm went off too early in the morning, a strong headache first thing you felt as you turned off the blaring thing.

Sighing, you fell back on the comfortable pillows, their lavender smell engulfing your senses and momentarily offering a calming pat on your headache. Closing your eyes, you felt your eyes well up again, the idea of having to break up with Baekhyun just not adding up in your mind. How could you do that? Why would you deprive yourself of the only source of light you had in your life? For someone you never even met. Someone who seemed to be much, much older than you.

“I'm not doing it,” you whispered into the stillness of your room, your voice hoarse. Tears slid out of your eyes and down your sides until they tickled your ears. “I'm not.”

And with that, you faced your day; you washed up, put on your uniform, packed the necessary books and headed out, not saying your morning greetings, nor eating breakfast. Ignoring your surroundings, you went out not even waiting for your driver. You decided you will take the mundane route to school that day: bus and metro like Baekhyun did everyday.

“Hey, are you okay?” Someone’s fingers appeared in the line of your vision. Fingers all too familiar.

You looked up to see a worried Baekhyun, his shirt untucked and his tie loosen-up around his neck giving him the typical goofy, laid-back look that lived up very well to his personality. You managed to smile. “Yeah, just tired. Didn’t get to sleep much.”

“And why is that?” he asked, taking the closest seat to yours, looking around to check if the owner of the seat wasn’t there. When you pursed your lips, debating what to say, he added gently: “What is bothering you, hm? You know you can tell me.”

Releasing probably the nth sigh of that day, you closed your eyes for a moment before looking at him. “Let’s talk after school maybe. It’s not something to discuss here.”

Baekhyun nodded but you saw the rapid thinking his mind drifted off to. He could sense trouble, especially with your family. “Alright, let’s do that. But your driver-“

“He didn’t drive me to school, so he won’t be driving me from school,” you said in a monotone and Baekhyun raised an eyebrow at that.

“How did you come to school?”

You shrugged. “Like you do everyday. Public transport.”

Slowly, his mouth stretched to a soft, lopsided smile, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers. “Enjoyed it?”

You mimicked his smile, his touch easing up the tension you couldn’t get rid of since last night. “Yeah, thoroughly. Only you were missing. Then it would be perfect.”

His smile only grew and you turned your head slightly, kissing his hand before he retracted it, keeping the eye contact while he kissed the same spot your lips touched on his hand.

You watched in small awe and you giggled when he added a louder smooch. “You’re unbelievable.”

He let out a laugh, standing up when the bell rang. “But you love me.” He squeezed your shoulder.

“That I do.”

After that, you couldn’t focus any more in any of the classes. Once again it was proved that you wouldn’t be able to even imagine your life without Baekhyun next to you. Yes, the idea of marriage was scary but you’d marry him. In an instant.

Finally coming up with a way to make something out for yourself and of that damn deal your parents made, you slipped out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang announcing the end of your last class of that day. Quickly pulling out your phone, you hid in the toilets and dialed your mother's phone who lazily picked up after countless attempts.

“What.”

So you were still in a war zone. “If I am to get married,” you started without further ado, “he can not touch me. And I won’t be breaking up with Baekhyun.”

It was silent for a moment before your mother let out a laugh. “Oh, honey. We do want you to finish university first before anything else will happen.”

She didn’t add anything more which confused you. “Okay, either way, I won’t be breaking up with Baekhyun.”

“Do whatever you deem correct. Though I bet he won’t like you getting married to someone else? Didn’t you always say how loyal he was?”

You grit your teeth. “Why do you suddenly care about his loyalty?” you hissed, pacing in the small toilet space. “That isn’t your business. You will always get what you want and I already said I will comply but on my terms.”

“Your terms are cheating on your husband? Or on your boyfriend? I really don’t know where this attitude comes from in you. Neither me nor your father are like that-“

Before she could finish, you burst out laughing. “What? You aren’t like that? Don’t be delusional, mother. You’re trying to marry me off for your own profit!” you exclaimed, raising your voice. “The only thing I am asking - no, I am going to do it whether you like it or not. I will be with Baekhyun. I’ll be with him until he breaks up with me.” Because there was no way you would do it.

Your mother was silent for a moment and then she sighed. “Do as you want. As long as you sign the papers…” she trailed off. “I have a meeting now. Let’s discuss once we are home.” And she ended the call.

You realized you were trembling only when you finally let your hand dangle next to your body, already tired from the fights.

At least she didn’t say anything against the idea.

You took it as a positive sign.

You didn’t go home that night. Baekhyun suggested to sleep over at his house and you gladly agreed. It wouldn't be the first and certainly not the last time. His parents knew you well and you always felt their warm welcome whenever Baekhyun brought you home with him. His mother was a great cook and whenever you saw her, you were reminded of Baekhyun's kind smile.

“Are you staying for the night?” asked his mother with a laugh when you greeted her with a polite bow.

You smiled shyly, nodding and looking up at Baekhyun who was gazing down at you encouragingly. “Yes, if that is okay, auntie.”

“Of course! It's Friday night anyway. My son just keeps studying and not living his young life properly so please, be our guest.”

“Thank you,” you smiled and she said she would prepare a late dinner for you while you and Baehyun went to his room to change into something more comfortable.

“Could you borrow me some of your clothes?” you asked once in his room as you were working on unbuttoning your uniform's shirt and watched shirtless Baekhyun roam in his drawer for your favourite shirt of his.

“Here you go,” he said, coming up to you with the shirt and joggers, but instead of handing them to you, he just put them on the bed and mumbled a soft: “Let me.”

His fingers took over the unbuttoning process, and you closed your eyes at the feathery touch of his hands as he uncovered more skin. When he was reaching your stomach, he paused and you cracked your eyes open, finding him gazing at you intently before his eyes fell to the middle of your breasts that were exposed. He unbuttoned the last two buttons swiftly and then pushed his hands inside the shirt, dragging his fingertips over your hips and waist, tapping each bone of your ribcage until he slid his hands up to your shoulders, sliding the material off. “You want to keep your bra?” he asked, almost as if he wasn't breathing loudly, mimicking your rapidly rising and falling chest.

Shaking your head gently, you mumbled a soft no before he nodded in acknowledgement and with one hand unclasped the bra. He stepped even closer, your nose almost touching his broad and very naked chest. You felt his breath on your cheek as he whispered, pulling on the straps of your bra: “May I?”

Swallowing harshly, you nodded and looked up at him to find his fiery gaze intently set on you. When he pushed the straps off your shoulders and your bra fell to the floor, you shivered at the cool air hitting the hot skin as Baekhyun's fingers were back again, dragging them from your back through your underarms until he reached the sides of your breasts. His breathing was irregular, hot puffs hitting your face while you whimpered softly, egging him on to finally grab you.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered shakily and you let out a loud sigh when he finally took a hold of your mounds, squeezing them gently in his palms.

You brought your arms around his neck, stretching the skin on your chest and you kissed him hungrily, the heat in your core growing almost painful for not being satisfied as you so badly wished you would be.

Baekhyun pushed his tongue into your mouth, going for a dirty kiss right away as he gave a final, stronger squeeze to your breasts before letting them go, bringing his hands down to your backside, bunching up your skirt in lust. He let out a satisfied moan when he grabbed the meat, his finger momentarily sliding inside and between your thighs. You were fast to break the kiss, needing air and also needing to whine because you needed him so badly.

His naked torso pressed now to yours, his hands cheekily teasing you and grabbing you, he was all about games.

“Baekhyun, the food is ready! Come quickly before it gets cold!” shouted his mother down the hallway, thankfully not coming to Baekhyun's room. You froze in his arms nonetheless to which he chuckled.

“Relax,” he murmured, pressing his face into your neck. “She knows not to disturb when my door is closed and you are with me.”

Letting out a breathy laugh, you let go of him just when he did.

“Once we are back,” he said, helping you put on his big t-shirt. “I will take care of that wetness down there. Seems pretty severe.”

You quirked an eyebrow, looking at the tent that was asking for attention over his joggers. “You sound so unaffected.”

He looked down just where your eyes were set and chuckled as if it was nothing. “Oh, sweetie, it's always like this when I'm with you. I just can't help it,” he said and leaned in, biting your earlobe. “You bring out the man in me.”

Everything was a long lost dream and you should have known it. Things you imagined and desired were not what the reality had in store for you, and it just made it more difficult for you to face Baekhyun. Even when you went on the last high school trip where you had the biggest fun, made the most exciting memories, sneaking behind the group to steal a small kiss, even all of that was not able to lighten up your damp mood. Somehow, it was possible for you to fake it, but you would have been dumb if you ever thought Baekhyun believed your words or smiles. He could sense trouble from miles and given the nature of your family, he was always well-aware of how many troubles could grow overnight in your household. He just wouldn't know the severity of the problem. And you weren't planning to tell him, just like you promised yourself and your mother, not until Baekhyun would break up with you.

And right now, it was your graduation day.

The D-day had come when you would have to say goodbye to all your friends, even the fake ones, and you would be a little closer to losing Baekhyun. Except you wouldn't know it would happen that fast.

“Congratulations!” squealed Baekhyun's mother who was fast to hug Baekhyun and you both at the same time, squeezing you to her chest. Your face was pushed into the colourful bouquet of flowers that smelled wonderfully - but from a distance. You tried to squeeze your eyes shut but you just looked down, catching Baekhyun's worn-out converse sneakers.

Baekhyun snorted a laugh when he saw your face in the freezias, and gently pushed you away from his mother to protect you. As you straightened up, you managed to scrunch your face just in time to sneeze.

“Oh dear, I'm so sorry,” giggled Baekhyun's mother and even his father chuckled from behind her which made your heart warm up.

“It's alright, auntie,” you waved your hand, feeling your eyes watering up but you laughed nonetheless because - how could you ever be mad at such a sweet woman who was the only person on Earth to have the right to call Baekhyun hers? As much as you wished, you were nowhere near close to have the right for him to be yours. And maybe you would never be. “Looking at you, I wonder how was my son able to sweep you off of your feet! You're so beautiful!”

You smiled shyly and felt Baekhyun's soft gaze on you, ready to reach out for your hand before his mother pushed the bouquet into his arms. “This is for you, son, and this is for you, my dear,” she said, giving you one as well.

Just when you were about to thank her politely and bow, your mother's cold voice interrupted the merry atmosphere, your happy smile dying down as you turned to face her, your father and a- stranger? A man, to be exact.

“Here you are,” she said, sending a cold smile towards Baekhyun's parents, ignoring your boyfriend altogether. She stepped closer so she wouldn't be overheard, and muttered: “I guess your wishes will come true soon.” She leaned back and you followed her with your eyes as she stepped aside. “Mr Kwon, please meet my daughter,” she introduced you before continuing, “and this is Mr Kwon Minheob, your fiancée. Greet him properly!” she ordered but you didn't even process what she said.

Standing frozen, your arms were about to let go of the bouquet you just received were it not for Baekhyun who was fast enough to get the flowers out of your grasp. “Oh, that's great news! I'll take these for you!” he exclaimed with a smile and you looked at him with pure horror in your eyes. “Congrats by the way! I will miss you as my classmate!” he added and quickly bowed to your parents. “I'll see you around someday!” And with that, he turned and left.

In that instance, many things were swirling around in your brain - complete, utter shock, overwhelm, fear, heartbreak. What did Baekhyun just do? Why did he say that? And where was he going-

“Nice to meet you,” said the older male with a deep voice. You turned your stare back at him, hearing your heart beating in your ears. “What a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard a lot about you and your studies. It is so nice of you to lower yourself and your status and attend a regular high school with ordinary people. I believe we will have a lot in common.” He finally uncrossed his hands from behind his back and you found a pastel pink bag dangling off of his somewhat thick fingers. “And this is my congratulatory present for you. Congratulations on graduating high school.”

Once again, you just stared at the bag, unable to make your own hand move and accept the gift with a polite bow like you were expected to. The only thing ringing in your mind was Baekhyun and him only. He found out much sooner than he was supposed to and you hated yourself because he was most probably hating you right now. What was worse - his parents were there, too. They all saw it when it all seemed like you were just about to stay with their son forever. Yet, your family, as always, ruined it all and you weren't sure if you would recover.

Looking up to the tall, grown man, it didn't take you a lot to know he was far from anyone you could have feelings for, ever. The words he just spoke, the malice he said them with, was everything you were standing for. Obviously, he was no one you could have things in common with.

Your father stepped next to you and, painfully, pinched your side, making you gasp and automatically reach out for the gift with a low bow. His fingers were squeezing your skin through your dress and it rushed tears in your eyes, but you blinked them away while accepting the gift and staring at the polished shoes of Kwon Minheob.

“Nice to meet you,” you mumbled, straightening up. The gift bag felt heavy in your hand but you tried not to pay too much attention to it. Eventually, your father also removed his hand from your back and he gave you a pressed smile, though you didn't look at him. “Congratulations, our daughter. Now we can go all to our house and have a good di-”

“I'm sorry, but I still have, eh, friends to greet and meet,” you said, “we also all agreed to have our last meal together as a class,” you added, looking up to meet your father's eyes. You weren't lying; the entire class wanted to meet and have chicken and beer. Preferably spend the time loudly somewhere in a good restaurant.

He shot you a dissatisfied scowl, but you held his gaze. “Until when? You won't be meeting them anyway, why waste time?”

“Exactly,” pressed your mother and smiled brightly at Mr Kwon, who kept observing you with quite an unreadable expression. “And we have Mr Kwon to entertain.”

Quite literally you thought you would start wailing right then and there; everyone was going against you, nobody seeming to listen to your words. Just when you felt tears prickle your eyes, Mr Kwon spoke up and surprised all of you.

“That is not necessary,” he declared, giving a curt smile towards your parents, “she is still young and should enjoy her classmates one last time. I suppose it will be difficult to do it once they all go their own way,” he said in a diplomatic voice, looking at you the entire time. It took a lot in you not to flinch and shudder under his gaze. “So go and enjoy, miss, and I will meet you soon to have a more private conversation with you.” You nodded quickly, though blood was already draining from your face at the idea of what he suggested. Mr Kwon turned to your parents. “I will leave you to entertain your daughter and I will reach out soon.”

Before anyone else could say another word, he gave a short bow and disappeared in the mass of people.

“You do realize-” your mother started, but you were fast to push the bag into her chest, not caring whether she caught it or not, and dashing for the direction that Baekhyun disappeared into.

Of course you were aware how much you would get scolded once you actually faced your parents, but right now you couldn't care less. It was better to get scolded, but losing Baekhyun or even making him hurt just the tiniest of bits made you resent yourself.

And so you pushed past crowds, stopping to say hi, keeping an eye out for any coconut head out there with a family that shone brighter than yours would ever shine. Just when you were about to lose it and start straight up crying in the middle of the crowd, you felt a hand intertwining with yours and you just knew. He didn't turn you around, but you felt his body behind yours and it was you who turned, facing him with a scared expression.

“Baekhyun,” you whimpered. Seeing his kind smile made you want to slap him because why was he like that after what he heard?

“Hm? Want to tell me about it now?” he asked gently and combed your hair out of your face, his smile growing by an inch. “Pretty.”

You took a deep breath, shakiness overtaking your legs from unwanted pressure. “It isn't what you think it is.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don't want to marry him,” you said and this time, your tears rapidly grew in your eyes and were rolling down your cheeks. “I-I-I never… I mean, not yet. I did-didn't know he would come, I never saw him before and-”

“Shhh, calm down,” he hushed, bringing your face to his chest, hugging you to himself. “Let's talk about it another time.”

“No,” you said, hiccuping, “I am not losing you, Baekhyun.”

“You aren't.” “I'm not losing you,” you repeated, closing your eyes and pressing your face more into him, taking a deep breath of his scent, feeling up his warmth and presence. “I'm not losing you.”

He called your name gently. “It's fine. Don't cry, hm? You know I can't stand seeing you cry. I am not mad and I'm not going anywhere,” he whispered urgently into your ear.

“I just hate my family so much,” you mumbled into his chest. Baekhyun's shirt must have been stained by make-up by then, but neither of you cared. “And I don't want their terrible attitude to damage you.”

“It won't damage me. You are important to me, you. Look at me, hm? Look at me, darling.”

You sniffed and stepped away a little, tilting your head so you could see his kind eyes. He cooed, reaching up to run his thumbs under your eyes. “My little raccoon. Let's enjoy today, alright? Just us. And our classmates,” he added with a little laugh.

You smiled weakly, nodding. Anything Baekhyun wanted, he would get from you.

Your entire class hoarded into a chicken restaurant in Hongdae, the loud cheers and chatterings making many people turn in interest to look at you. You sat down around your girlfriends while you let, though reluctantly, Baekhyun join his pals. Even though you would exchange reassuring looks here and there, you still felt incredibly anxious about the incident earlier. In fact, you were so swallowed up by the idea of losing Baekhyun that you didn't even think about the actual fiancée, Mr Kwon.

But instead of focusing on that, you decided to enjoy tonight, for you knew events like these won't be coming up for you anytime soon. If anything, your freedom was close to gone.

“I am going to start my own clothing brand,” started one of your classmates that was sitting next to you, munching on her piece of chicken meat. She went on spilling many details that didn't add up in your brain, though you listened carefully to every word she said.

“You don't have your degree yet,” you replied eventually and took a gulp of your coke.

“Funny, coming from someone like you,” she snickered, “you can decide you want to own an island and you will.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes but your classmate just shrugged.

“I can assure you she won't,” came in Baekhyun's voice. “I know it pretty well, since I'm her boyfriend.”

The girls exchanged looks. They all had a secret crush on him, so his words made them a little embarrassed. “Would you even marry her?” they teased.

“I would. In a heartbeat,” was his answer and you looked at him with huge eyes, your mouth that was slightly oily from the chicken hanging open, your heart frantically beating in your chest.

The entire table hollored and whistled, and you caught your boyfriend smiling proudly at you, eventually sending a confident wink. He tapped his mouth with his index finger and then pointed at you. You felt your lips stretch instantly, because you knew he meant “close your mouth”.

“Whew, you really are lucky,” muttered the girl next to you, changing the topic completely.

His hand was intertwined with yours once again as you were slowly walking along the Han river. Ttukseom Han river park was, as always, busy with young people. It gave a great view on Gangnam and Cheongdam that were lying on the opposite side, the city lights of the tall buildings reminding you how life revolved around money and basically anything that smelled even the slightest of capitalism. You found yourself despising all of it.

“Cat stole your tongue?” muttered Baekhyun playfully into the chilly air as he swayed your connected hands.

“Just… thinking,” you replied and made sure your sides were brushing.

He didn't reply, instead letting silence overtake again, but you knew he was curious. He wanted to, and deserved, to know.

“Did you mean it?” you asked, looking at the dark water.

“Did I mean what?”

“That you would marry me in a heartbeat,” you said softly, scared to actually pronounce those words. They sounded so unnatural, for some reason, despite them mirroring everything you ever wanted in life. “What you said during dinner.”

“Yes, I meant it and you know it, too, sweetheart,” he said, shaking your hand.

You smiled to yourself. If you wouldn't spill the beans now, you would probably never find the guts to talk about the main issue that was simmering like the water in a pressure cooker. “My parents want me to marry that man for business. Something along merging their companies or whatever,” you started. “I found out a while ago but I was fighting them. And then you made me promise to obey,” you sighed, feeling the well-known dread eating up your insides, “and I had to agree. But I don't want to.”

“So that's why you weren't yourself,” he muttered more to himself than to you, and he stopped walking so he could look at you properly. When you wouldn't meet his eye, too ashamed, he put his index finger under your chin and made you tilt your head up. “Why didn't you just tell me from the beginning?”

“Baekhyun,” you whispered in disbelief, “how could I? It isn't some news about apples growing backwards.”

He chuckled. “Well, you have to admit, that would make the headlines.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

He let out another chuckle through his nose and slid his hand up so he could cup your cheek lovingly while thinking over his next words. “When are you supposed to marry him?”

You swallowed. “Maybe after uni? I … I never wanted to talk to them, so I don't know exactly… I insisted after university graduation.”

He hummed, running his thumb over your lower lip, his gaze focused on the way he parted your lips. “So, we have four more years?”

You pursed your lips, not liking the idea of having limited time with Baekhyun. “Of course not. I will always be with you.”

He sighed, and eventually dropped his hand on your shoulder; you tried not to feel disappointed. “I think this is more complicated than you think, love.”

“How is it complicated, Baekhyun?” you asked stubbornly. “I love you. I saw that man today for the first time in my life. How can I marry someone I don't know and barely ever saw? He is almost twice my age, Baekhyun. You know this is not okay and you also know it doesn't make any sense.”

“And you know business is anything but emotions,” was his fast reply.

“I don't care about their business.”

“And they don't care that you don't care.”

“Bu-but I just don't care! I will be with you behind his back and-”

“And how would that make me feel?” he fired back, now both of you slowly getting heated up from the small exchange of opinions. Baekhyun just asked something you never wanted him to utter. If you were to talk about him, of course, he was the victim. He'd become a secret lover; the forbidden fruit.

When you didn't reply, he nodded, his hand falling off your shoulder. “I understand.”

“Baekhyun, let's talk about this step by step,” you tried, reaching for his hand which he, thankfully, didn't retreat. “We still have a long time until any of those things could even happen. Maybe it won't happen - and I will try my best not to let it happen. But let it not affect our present. Please,” you added with urgency, looking into his warm eyes.

When Baekhyun was troubled or sad, his eyes seemed to become even more down-ward than they already were. This time, it was no exception and you wanted to reach out and make the wrinkles go away but you didn't. “Let me just think this matter through, alright?” he murmured eventually.

You pressed your lips together and nodded while you stepped close to him, snaking your arms around his waist. He gladly took you in, letting out a deep sigh as he hugged you to him and kissed the top of your head. “It will be okay.”

“May I sleep at yours tonight?” you mumbled into his shoulder after a moment of silence. “I just cannot imagine going back to that hell.”

He rubbed your back gently. “Of course. My mum is already expecting us. We shouldn't disappoint her.”

You leaned back a bit and stood on your toes to press your lips to his. “You're the best.”

And so, after walking a little bit longer and enjoying the faraway noise of the busy roads and nightlife Seoul, you slowly made your way back to the metro station, heading for Baekhyun's house, and your safety.

The both of you were lying on his bed, his parents long asleep, the quietness of the apartment giving you a sense of safeness. Baekhyun had a book open on his lap while you were doodling something you weren’t sure what was yet. Manual work seemed to preoccupy your mind enough and sadly, even with Baekhyun next to you, you couldn’t find your peace of mind.

“Aren’t you tired yet?” whispered Baekhyun and looked at you, and on the paper to see what you were so focused on. “It’s already 1am. Your parents will want you home early-“

Your sigh interrupted him and you put down the pencil rather harshly as you sat up properly to face him. “Since when do you care about them? You know I will go home whenever I want to. I don’t care, so you shouldn’t either.”

“I don’t want you to get into trouble, okay?” he said back, his voice quiet but low. “There has been enough drama.”

“What worse can happen? They want me to let go of you. That is the worst punishment for me.”

Baekhyun’s gaze softened and he also sat up properly to face you. “I know. I can’t lose you either. And I wasn’t intending on that. I meant that they might lock you up and then I won’t be able to see you so soon, hm?” he murmured gently, his lips puckering with each word as he reached out with his hand to caress your cheek. You leaned into his touch right away. “I want to enjoy what we have now.”

You smiled gently when you recognized your previously uttered words and grabbed his hand that was cradling your cheek. “You know I would sneak out just to meet you if I were to be locked up.”

He rewarded you with a lopsided, handsome smile. “You shouldn’t, you little devil.”

You sighed and shimmied yourself closer until your knees were touching his. “Kiss me,” you whispered breathily, already eyeing his lips.

He observed you a little longer before his eyes dropped on yours. Softly smiling, he leaned in, now both of his hands on your neck to angle your face. The softest of touches was what you felt first before he pressed his lips harsher, moving his mouth against yours. Your hands snaked around his neck to urge him on while he opened your mouth and invited himself in. Without meaning to, you let out a satisfied hum that seemed to ignite Baekhyun because he pressed harder, slowly making you fall back on your back, head on the pillows.

He grunted as you spread your legs so he could settle himself there as your kiss grew dirtier, all tongues and teeth, battling for dominance. Your fingers were messing up his hair while his hands were touching you over the fabric of his pyjamas.

It was your whines and a couple of pulls on the hem of his shirt that made Baekhyun lean back so that you could undress in haste, both of you eager and very much horny. Finally feeling the hot skin of his chest press up against yours he was too eager and he already lined himself up at your center, needing the release without any foreplay.

“Just keep quiet, alright?” he reminded softly into your ear under which he placed the softest kiss before he started pushing in, your mouth falling open, but your juices doing a good enough job for his easy access.

You gasped rather loudly and he silenced you with a messy kiss, interrupting it with harsh pants on your mouth as his eyes were closed in focus, his forehead pressed against yours. You panted and tilted your head to chase his parted lips while he pushed himself in all the way, reaching the stillness that you very much needed.

Unable to take the pain, your eyes were squeezed shut, scratching Baekhyun’s back while the other hand fisted his blanket.

“Just a little longer,” Baekhyun whispered urgently, lips against your forehead, repeatedly puckering them in tiny butterfly kisses. “The pain will be all gone, I promise. I’ll make you feel like no one on this planet.” He moved the slightest bit, the friction making him hide his face in your neck and mouth at the skin.

Your heaving chest was pressing up against his and with his next movement, you felt the tingles of pleasure that he promised you just heartbeats ago. Giving Baekhyun the sign to move, he started rocking, already setting up a faster pace for he couldn’t wait any longer. Your influence on him was too strong, his emotions for you too overwhelming. In his eyes, you were so sexy, beautiful, sensitive, and absolutely alluring. It would be brutal if he had to hold back while having you underneath him.

Who did he try to lie to? He went absolutely crazy at the idea of him having to leave you for another man; some old dude who didn’t even know you. It might have been the reason why he grew relentless, pushing you into his mattress and snapping his hips, your face of pure ecstasy only fueling his passionate drive. He hated the entire situation. He didn’t want to share you. He never wanted to have a secret relationship with you. If he imagined a future, besides him becoming a doctor, it was your presence next to his the entire time.

Baekhyun was never one to be aggressive and stubbornly go against every rule, unlike you. In your relationship, he was the cold-headed one, the peace-maker, always fighting for what the brain said instead of the heart.

But right now, his heart was in despair, already feeling the beginning of a heart break. He thrusted into you with such passion you really couldn't contain your moans and he wasn’t sure he wanted you to keep quiet anymore. Let everyone know that you belonged to him.

He bit your skin just under your collarbones, tasting the sweat, and you gasped, fisting his hair which prompted him to grunt and reach your g-spot.

“Cum for me,” he whispered harshly, biting you again and then moving his face to push his tongue into your open mouth. “Cum for me and say my name.”

He didn’t have to tell you as you were already panting his name like a mantra that would bring you to heaven. Your walls were pleasurably stretched out, the throaty sounds he made bringing you over the edge. He followed soon after your breathy moans and your arching back that caused your breasts to press to his sweaty chest made him lose it.

His arms snaked in the space between your back and the mattress and he squeezed your body to him, hiding his face in your breasts that he mouthed and licked at sensually while feeling himself release.

With one last bite to your sensitive nipple, he moved to kiss you, your tired smile welcoming him. “I love you.”

You combed his hair away from his damp forehead. “I love you more.” But please don't leave me.

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tenspontaneite · 3 years

Text

Pigment

Callum discovers the wonders of elven pigments.

(The first of two pieces written for @falling-for-you-a-rayllum-zine, which is now having leftover sales!) ('Future' chapter; takes place post-s3, naturally not canon to TTM. Oneshot. 4k. Ao3 link)

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The first time Callum was introduced to the concept of elvish pigment was, ostensibly, by Rayla’s skin. He’d noted the marks under her eyes in the same hurried, panicked glance that picked out the horns, the ears, the alarming points of the weapons in her hands…

He wondered about them, of course, but in the first frantic two weeks of their acquaintance, there really wasn’t a lot of time to ask about it. Not until the Storm Spire, when he sat mulling over the flight-runes on Ibis’ wings, and how they might have come to be there.

“…So, I’ve been wondering,” he said to Rayla, apropos of nothing, while she was tending to her equipment. She looked up as he began to speak, the armour momentarily forgotten. “Those…markings you have, the ones on your face—and the ones a lot of other elves seem to have—what are they?”

She blinked, and for a moment, her fingers rose to her face, as though only just remembering the marks were there. “They’re pigment?” She offered, squinting at him a little. “…Is that a trick question, or…?”

“No, really, I have no idea what they are.” He assured her. “I was never sure if they were tattoos, or…weird elf birthmarks, or something. But—pigment? Does that mean it’s like…ink? How do you get them on?” Tattoos, as he understood them, involved needles. He hoped elven pigment didn’t involve needles.

For a moment, Rayla stared at him, looking decidedly nonplussed. “You…paint them on?” She offered, still thrown. “With a brush? And then they stay there for a while. Half a year, maybe. Depends on how good your pigment is.”

“Huh.” Callum mused. For a moment, he was tempted to press further, to ask about the intricacies of various pigments and the application thereof…but he’d been asking for a reason, after all, and his attention remained there.

If they were painted on...then that boded well. That meant that it was something that he could do, if only for the presence of the pigment and a brush.

It wasn’t much later that, after a guilty rummage through Ibis’ things, Callum stood at the pinnacle of the Storm Spire and painted flight-runes onto his skin. That was his first true introduction to the pigments of elves. As an artist, he couldn’t help but marvel at it. The pigment was white, yet it entirely obscured the darker colour of his skin with only a single, easy stroke. Only one layer, and it was solidly opaque. It glowed a little—then settled utterly dry, clean, and steadfast upon his arms.

For a moment, he spared a thought to wish that his paints could be like that. He’d dabbled in every form of art medium he could get his hands on over the years, and he’d never worked with any pigment like this one. It would be gorgeous to paint with.

But then he was too distracted trying to fly to think about art any longer, and that was the last mind he paid to pigment for a while.

After the battle of the Storm Spire, he prevailed upon the use of a finer, neater brush, and filled in the edges of his flight-runes until the shape of each was perfect and immaculate. Ibis watched him with a critical eye, and nodded.

“The spell will come easier if the runes are tidy.” He said, approvingly. “You’ll need to re-apply the pigment every three months. Any longer than that and it will begin to fade—which isn’t so great an issue when the marks are merely aesthetic, but with runes…”

“I can see how you wouldn’t want these fading, no.” Callum said ruefully, and accepted the little bottle of white pigment with a murmur of gratitude. He tucked it into his things for the next time he and Rayla went travelling, and she smiled at him.

“Packing your pigment for the journey, Callum?” She remarked, a little teasing. “Think we’ll be gone that long, do you?”

He laughed, and shrugged, glancing down at one of his arms. “I guess it’s just in case, really. I shouldn’t need to touch them up again for months, but…you never know. Wouldn’t want to end up flightless for some reason.”

“I suppose you are a tad obsessed with flying, now.” She agreed, as if she wasn’t always finding excuses for him to sweep her up into the sky for another flight. She reached out, absentminded, and trailed a fingertip around the curve of one rune with the trace of a smile on her lips. “Still, if it came down to it, you could always borrow mine.”

He glanced up at her, startled. “Your pigment?” He checked, eyes settling on the marks beneath her eyes. “I didn’t know you had any with you.”

“I don’t. Need to pick some up from Ethari, when we visit.” She said, succinctly, and he supposed that was another reason for their stopping at Silvergrove on the way to Katolis. How long had it been, since she last refreshed her pigment? Did she need to do it again soon, or was she just planning for the future?

He stared at her for a moment, contemplating her, feeling his heart flutter with a familiar warmth. If her markings had faded at all since he met her, it wasn’t immediately obvious to him. They looked as clear and lovely as ever; a natural part of her face. It was strange to think of what she might look like without them.

Rayla eyed him, when he’d stared a little too long and smiled a little too softly, and huffed at him. Her cheeks pinked a little, the colour darkening her markings. “What are you looking at?” She muttered to him, a touch self-conscious. Rather than look away, he smiled at her all the wider, and captured the hand she had on his arm to plant a kiss on its fingers.

“You.” He said, very contentedly, and watched with pleasure as her face coloured and her fingers twitched beneath his touch.

“Dumb prince.” She sighed, a smile spreading unbidden and affectionate across her lips. It was beautiful, so of course he kissed that too. He felt the widening of that smile against his mouth, and lingered there for as long as she’d let him before she prodded him away to finish packing.

She gave his arms a strange look, though, when he next bared them. Appraising, almost, with a narrow-eyed sort of consideration. “…What?” He asked, when she’d been staring long enough to warrant the question.

“Your runes are…neat.” She said, tone as considering as her eyes. “Tidy.” She shook her head then. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, with all the art you do. Of course you’d be good at painting skin-pigment.” He eyed her, because there was clearly more to this observation than just surprise that he’d managed some tidy brushwork, but all she said when he asked was “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

He didn’t believe her, obviously. Not with the way she kept shooting half-considering looks at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. But he didn’t press her, and she didn’t mention whatever was on her mind. In time, he forgot about it.

Until they were back in the Silvergrove.

Rayla asked Ethari, and within the minute he was pressing a small dark bottle and a fine brush into her hands. “I did wonder if you needed any.” He said, as she turned the glass over and the indigo liquid swirled around within. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” She agreed, pocketing the vial and the brush both. “It’ll start fading soon. So…thanks.”

He nodded at her, all warmth and familial affection. “Not a problem. Did you want me to help with that while you’re here?”

She hesitated, then, and for a moment…for a moment, her eyes slid to Callum, who’d been watching them idly over the top of his sketchbook. “…I’m good.” She settled on, eventually, and if there was anything particularly knowing about Ethari’s smile then, Callum didn’t notice it.

He kept drawing, content in that she was content, and happy to be in her home under happier circumstances than the first.

But then, later: “I wanted to ask you something.” Rayla said, abruptly, when it was just the two of them in what was ostensibly her childhood room. It had been adapted over the years for a growing teenager, but still maintained hints of the past lingering within its walls. He spotted a child’s doodle of a shadowpaw etched into the grain of the dresser, and suppressed a smile.

He turned to her, eyes crinkling a little at the thought of a tiny rambunctious Rayla who scrawled over the walls and furniture. “Yeah?” He responded, a little distracted, as he wondered if there were perhaps any baby or childhood portraits in residence somewhere. He should ask Ethari. If there were any to be found, surely he’d know.

That distraction fled the instant she spoke. “Will you paint my pigment for me?” She asked, directly, and his eyes shot to her at once. At his expression, she added, “You don’t have to. But it needs doing soon, or it’ll start fading faster.” She paused, looking a little more tentative as she said, “If you don’t want to, Ethari can—”

“No,” he blurted, clumsy, then scrambled to say “I mean, yes, I mean—I mean I’d like that. To help. To, er. Paint your pigment on.” He felt his face heat, in part from how he’d stumbled over the words, and in part because…well. He might not know a lot about elven pigment and elven markings, but he was fairly sure that they were…personal. That painting someone’s markings for them was personal.

His reply settled her, and she huffed, lips twitching with familiar fondness. “…Good.” She said, in the end, and surprised him by leaving the room without further word. He blinked after her, uncertain whether he was supposed to follow, but then she returned a bare few moments later with a towel and a wet cloth that she was already wiping her face with.

“Er,” he offered, perplexed, as she dried her face off and set the towel and cloth both down. He didn’t understand until she plucked the bottle of pigment from her dresser and pressed it into his fingers. “Now?” His voice was something of a squeak, and she rolled her eyes.

“When else?” She asked, procuring a brush and giving him that too. “We’re setting off tomorrow. Now’s best.” She paused. “…That okay?”

Her voice had gone tentative again, and his chin jerked up, fingers tightening around brush and bottle as if worried she’d take them away. “No, yeah, it’s okay,” he assured her, and then laughed, a little nervously. “I just…wasn’t expecting it.” He cleared his throat, and took a closer look at the brush. It was like the one he’d filled his own runes in with, fine and delicate and short enough that it didn’t seem liable to flick off in weird directions. “…So I just…paint this onto your face?” He asked, after a moment, feeling his cheeks heat for reasons he couldn’t quite put to words. It felt special, in a way that was hard to describe.

“That is how it works.” Rayla answered, dryly, and then tugged him by the rune-adorned arm until they were both sitting on the floor, towel and cloth at close remove. He supposed those were there in case of spillages, though considering how quickly elvish pigment took hold, he wasn’t sure how much good a towel would do. He wondered if there was some sort of solvent, magical or otherwise, that was up to the task of dissolving pigment like this.

“What happens if I make a mistake when I’m putting your pigment on?” He wondered aloud, only half directing it at her. “Do you just have to walk around with it on your face for months?”

She snorted, and shook her head. “Nah. There’s pigment-remover for that.”

A little tension eased from his shoulders. “Oh, good,” he sighed, relieved. “That’s much less pressure, then.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Just paint my face, Callum.”

He chuckled at her, a little nervously, and uncapped the bottle. The liquid inside was so much darker than the pigment he used, and bizarrely true in its colour. Usually, inks tended to look much darker than their actual colour when they were in the bottle. It was only when you painted them onto a page that you could see how light and bright they were. This, though…it was just solid, liquid indigo, as if someone had distilled the concept of the colour of Rayla’s markings and spilled it into a bottle. “This would be amazing to paint with.” He murmured, somewhat distractedly, watching the pigment shimmer in the low light.

Rayla didn’t answer that, which was unusual enough that his eyes darted to hers, and found her looking strangely thoughtful. She shook her head, though, as if to dispel some thought, and started giving the pigment bottle and the brush some very meaningful looks. He laughed, softly, and obeyed the unspoken command; he dipped the brush in, drained off the excess, and then lifted it. It was dyed the same solid, true indigo—a colour that he was about to put onto her skin.

It hit him then, or at least started to; he looked between the brush and her face and felt his breath catch at—at something. It felt a little like panic, a little like wonder, a little like the breathless infatuation she always managed to inspire in him. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do with it, and just…stared at her, heart beating wildly at—at the trust, and the honour, that he couldn’t help but feel she’d given him.

She was looking impatient by the time he finally moved, and likely would have spoken if not for how he shuffled closer, until their knees were touching. Her mouth closed, watching him, eyes settling on his own as he reached towards her. His fingers brushed the edge of her jaw, feather-light, as tentative as he always was when he remembered that someone as amazing as her had deigned to be with someone like him. His breath caught in his throat as he lifted his hand, thumb tracing tenderly along a cheek that warmed beneath his touch.

He cupped her face in his hand, then, unable to resist the impulse, and she leaned into it without even thinking. Her eyes fell half-lidded for a moment, the smallest smile twitching at the edges of her lips, and he wanted to kiss her. That wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing, but—but he wanted to, and she was smiling at him, and her eyes were soft and warm in the quiet and low light of the room—

So, he kissed her, and she huffed an amused breath against his lips, lifting a hand to trail affectionate fingers along the side of his neck. “This doesn’t feel like face-painting to me.” She murmured to him, fond and teasing at once, and he wouldn’t have been surprised for a moment if his heart stopped beating for the strength of how much he loved her. “Weren’t you supposed to be doing something?”

He laughed, a little breathless, and the warmth of it spilled between them. “Yeah.” He agreed, helplessly, drawing back with her fingers still warm on his neck and his hand still cupped to her cheek, and paused for a moment to treasure the sight of her looking at him like that. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was that she loved him. He didn’t think he’d ever believe it. “I’ll just…get on that.”

She withdrew her hand, and watched him. Waiting.

His fingers shifted on Rayla’s face, moving to press his thumb gently to the side of the marking under her left eye. Pulling at the skin, ever-so-slightly, to allow for painting it more evenly. Another urge struck him, but this time he suppressed it. He could kiss her cheek-markings later. For now, he was supposed to be painting them. And so…

With an almost reverent care, he lifted the tip of the brush to her face, hovering just above her skin with a heady mixture of breathless wonder and breathless trepidation. He exhaled, softly, and felt her eyes upon him. Watching, warm and fond and expectant.

Finally, with the utmost care, he touched the brush to her skin.

She flinched a little at the touch so close beneath her eye, but he’d expected that. He held the brush steady and traced a slow, perfect line down her cheek, along the edge of the extant marking, like a dark border to the fading colour. And it was fading; he could see that now. It wasn’t noticeable on its own, but with the contrast of the fresh pigment beside it, it was fully obvious that the old colour had begun waning.

With the brush to her skin, Callum’s hushed awe fell in step with the breadth of his skill and practice. He’d never put brush to someone else’s skin before, but that did nothing to diminish his skill. He knew brushwork, and he knew the delicacy needed for fine detail, and…and, in the end, this was easy. Just tracing around an existing marking, and filling it in. There could be nothing easier.

He drew the pigment across her skin in smooth, effortless lines. He traced the borders of her marking and then filled it in, up until when the brush began to run empty, and he had to go for the bottle again. The colour settled fast, immediate, and perfect upon her face, with that gorgeous fidelity he’d never seen in any other pigment or paint or ink in all his life. It was a pleasure to use it, and all the more that he was using it for this.

Callum fell half into an artist’s trance for the remaining minutes it took to finish. He filled the left marking in, stark and perfect, then shifted his fingers tenderly to her other cheek, and repeated the process. When he was done, there was nothing but perfect lines and perfect colour upon a face that he loved.

He smiled, small and satisfied, and set the brush aside. “Done.” He murmured, and leaned forward to press his forehead to hers, cradling her face in both hands. It felt strange, to risk touching her skin when he’d only just painted it. But that was the wonder of elvish pigment; it dried the moment it was applied, and permitted no possibility of smearing whatsoever. He stroked his thumbs beneath her eyes and felt more happy, more tender, more loving than he’d ever known. “Perfect.” He murmured, reverential, the words meant for more than the pigment.

Her eyes blinked across from his own, and he loved them. Loved her. She brought her arms up and drew him closer, one hand splayed on the back of his neck. “Maybe I’ll have you do me some new markings, someday.” She murmured to him, in the end, a small and secret smile at the edges of her lips. He stared at her, spellbound, for the three beats of his heart that lingered between her smile and her movement. She leaned in and closed the meagre distance between them, the kiss soft and sweet and all the more perfect for how dearly he adored her.

He imagined, for a second, drawing that ink-brush again along her skin. Imagined it between her fingers, along her arms, casting indigo whorls about her shoulders. He thought of new pigment, new markings, and the sheer delight of being the one who got to put them there. His heart fluttered. “I’d like that.” He said, against her lips, and she kissed him again.

“Good.” When she drew back, the markings were still stark and beautiful beneath her eyes, where he’d painted them. The sight of them left him a little breathless, even now, unable to shake the sense that he’d been afforded an enormous privilege, a gift of worth beyond measure.

Someday, he hoped, she’d afford him that gift again.

Callum saw the fruits of Rayla’s thoughtful consideration and furtive glances a while later, when July came around and he was startled from thinking about her birthday by the arrival of his own. She cornered him with palpable satisfaction, and gave him a parcel that she very clearly expected him to be delighted with.

She wasn’t wrong.

He unveiled an array of small bottles; thirty-six hues of true and perfect elvish pigment, distilled for the purpose of painting. He beheld them all with a nearly breathless joy, finding the little parcel of pigment-brushes, the bottle of solvent, the masking-fluid….

“You like it?” Rayla asked, with a broad and decidedly smug smile on her face. She clearly already knew the answer.

“I love it.” He pronounced, and set at once to trying them out.

The very first thing he painted was her. She watched him, and huffed as she saw the familiar lines of her own face taking form on the page, pleased and exasperated all at once. She never did seem to understand why he drew her so often, but that was okay. And, with these pigments…

The colours were spectacular, brighter and more intensely pigmented than anything he’d ever seen. He found himself utterly swept away in the delight of using them, and hours later, emerged from his artist’s trance to the completed work: Rayla in the early evening of the Silvergrove, her hair and eyes gleaming softly with the gentle illumination of the lights and moon-moths around her. It was one of the finest works he’d ever produced, and at the sight of it, he concluded the process of falling helplessly in love with Elvish pigment.

Rayla, for all her embarrassment at being painted, seemed to approve of it too. “You picked that up quickly.” She noted, handling the edges of the thick paper with the delicate care it deserved.

“These pigments are my new favourite thing.” He declared, arranging the bottles a little more tidily beside him. His eyes rested, a little consideringly, over another wide sheet of paper. He stared at it for a long while, growing quiet and solemn, and eventually reached out to take it.

He had his birthday traditions to observe, after all.

The second thing he painted with the elven pigments was his family portrait, atrophied and truncated by tragedy. There was no Sarai there, and hadn’t been for years. No Harrow, and that was a new pain. He felt the ghosts of their absence in the lines he didn’t draw, in the colours that never fell upon the page, in the voids of grief that they left in his life.

But there were new faces now, too.

With quiet, exquisite care, he drew himself. He drew Ezran, older now, wearing a mantle that had come for him too soon. He drew Bait in his brother’s arms. He drew Aunt Amaya. And, tenderly: he drew Azymondias and Rayla. The outlines took form, and as the hours passed, elvish pigment filled them in.

In the end, he had his family portrait again. Changed, and echoing with its empty spaces, but…

Quiet, from her place beside him, Rayla slipped her hand into his own.

“Come on,” She said, with the small but tender smile that he loved. “Zym has a present for you too. He’ll be disappointed if he can’t give it to you today.”

Callum exhaled, and let her fingers tighten around his, pulling him up to his feet beside her. His own smile slipped onto his lips. “Then we’d better go find him.” He said, casting a last glance at the portrait on the table. He didn’t resist it when she tugged on his fingers, pulling him away.

With a strange, quiet serenity, he followed her out into the light.

---

end.

This is word-for-word what was published in the Rayllum zine 'Falling For You'; I have made no changes. It’s the shorter and less impressive of my two pieces, but I hope you liked it anyway.

I’ll potentially be making some minor edits to the second piece before posting, given I intend to continue it - in fact, I’ve already got like three extra chapters of it written, though small ones. I’m considerably more excited about that one, so stay tuned!

#rayllum #rayllumzine #tdp fic #tdp callum #tdp rayla #seriously though the soulmate au piece is good times #looking forward to everyone being able to read it #had to do word count negotiations to get a piece that long into the zine lol #the mods kindly granted me a couple extra ks #and then I decided to reduce my word limit for this first piece by 1k so I could shift that to the more exciting piece too #it deserved every word I could give it #this one is nice don't get me wrong #i'm just not made for short decisive pieces #and the soulmate AU's ending is VERY MUCH open-ended #and inviting follow-up #which I then wrote and shared with my closest cohorts #awaiting the day it could be published #looking forward to seeing the comments on my baby

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torikengel · 3 years

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Thomas Hewitt x Reader (Part 13)

Few hours passed, and everyone in the family was agitated. The atmosphere was grim as nobody knew what to expect. The boy definitely called for help, which meant someone would discover your whereabouts sooner rather than later. You were puzzled about your situation, as you finally admitted your feelings to yourself. You loved this man in a way, and you were determined to help him when he would need you… By killing for him, you gave up your past life, and now your future was dim as well.

If they found you… maybe they would assume you weren’t in the right mental state to control yourself and that you were forced by this family to participate in the killing to survive yourself… but what would happen to Thomas? To Luda? You didn’t want anything bad happening to them. For safety measures, you decided to get Thomas to your room upstairs. Hoyt and Luda both helped you as Thomas could barely walk. He was incredibly lucky that the guy didn’t hit the artery in his thigh, or he would’ve bled out.

You sat on the bed next to Thomas and looked at his tired face.

“Tommy…” you whispered as you held his hand and smiled at him.

He was on the verge of crying… not because of all the pain. Because he felt loved without prejudice for the first time in his life and despite the circumstances, he was genuinely happy. Your presence made him forget how cruel life could be. Everything he went through was worth it if it led to meeting you. You could see how lost in his thoughts he was.

“What are you thinking about, Tommy?” you asked curiously. He just kept staring at you.

“Me…” you wondered.

Thomas nodded, happy that you got it. He was sad that he couldn’t talk with you normally. There was so much he wanted to tell you, ask you… he wanted to get to know you better. He just knew your name, your kind heart, but he never got the chance to learn more about your past life, your family, your hobbies. But maybe it was for the better as he was already feeling guilty for the way you two met and how you were forced to stay with him. Thomas frowned and looked away. He didn’t like to think of you as a victim. He wanted you to be part of the family.

“What’s wrong?” you were worried that he was feeling worse.

Thomas closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze shifted towards the cuff, making it impossible for you to leave this room the first few days.

“Oh, that…” you immediately understood what was going through his mind. It was true, his family did indeed kidnap you and planned to kill you.

“You know Thomas, I admit, I wasn’t happy about my situation and that I had to be locked up here. But it wasn’t your fault… you were always nice to me.” You explained your feelings to him.

Thomas wasn’t pleased with your answer, and you could tell.

“Okay… well…” you mumbled, trying to find the right words. “It’s fate.” You finally let out. Thomas questioningly raised his eyebrow.

“It was predestined for us to meet this way.” You explained. “Me going on a road trip with people that didn’t even like me that much, getting into that accident, me waking up in the basement alive. Wait, that’s true, why you took care of Chloe first?” your train of thoughts was finally interrupted by a realization that Thomas could’ve killed you before you had a chance to wake up. Thomas really wanted to explain himself. He liked the thought of it all being fate.

“Hmmm…” you looked around the room and then reached for a pen and paper from your suitcase. Thomas was eager to take it from you and began writing. After a few minutes, he handed the paper to you. It was very hard to read, and there were many mistakes, but you could make it out.

“My ma told me you were nice, so I should kill you quickly and painlessly. I couldn’t bring myself to. You were pretty and looked so innocent, hard to butcher. Another girl was screamin at me, said I am ugly monster. I wanted you to do the same when you wake up to make my job easier…” Thomas was clearly embarrassed by his messy writing and poor grammar, but you thought it was adorable. You looked back at Thomas and leaned towards him with a smile.

“See, all fate.” You whispered and gave him a soft kiss, but he held you close and began kissing you back. When your lips parted as you needed air, Thomas pulled you closer to him. You snuggled on his side, careful not to touch any of the wounds.

“Do you want to know something about me?” you asked when you realized that you knew a lot about Thomas’s life while he didn’t know anything about yours. Thomas happily nodded, as he didn’t feel so guilty for now, because he was content with all being destiny. You started rambling about your past, what you did for work, and what hobbies you had in your free time. Thomas carefully listened, trying to remember every single word. He loved hearing you talk about yourself.

You spent hours in bed, just talking, well you were the one talking. Thomas occasionally wrote something to respond. The danger of being discovered by the police fading from your mind as you enjoyed each other’s company. After you were done talking because you basically told him everything, Thomas wrote: “I am sorry.” He knew that as long as Hoyt is here, you won’t be able to see your family. It was hard for Thomas to defy any member of his family because he was taught to obey everyone his whole life.

“It’s okay, Tommy…” you assured him that you didn’t mind, at least for now. You hoped that after being here long enough and proving yourself even more trustworthy, you would be able to return to your past life… maybe take Thomas with you. You heard footsteps, and then Luda stepped into the room with bandages.

“It’s time to clean ya up, m’boy.” She announced.

“I can do it.” You offered your help as you got up from the bed. Luda glanced over at Thomas only to see the nod of approval and handed the bandages over to you along with disinfection.

“I got it in the shop today.” She explained.

“Thank you, Luda.” You gave her a warm smile.

“I’ll bring dinner upstairs for you in a minute.” She said as she disappeared in the hallway and went back to the kitchen. You turned to Thomas, who tried to sit up. “I’ll be gentle, but please let me know if it hurts.” You said and shifted your attention to his wounded shoulder first, as it was easiest to reach. Thomas hissed in pain.

“Sorry, sorry.” You panicked a bit as you disinfected the gash, but Thomas looked you in the eyes and caressed your cheek. This man… big and dangerous was so gentle and vulnerable in front of you. Your heart fluttered every time he touched you.

“You are so brave, Tommy.” You admired his strength. Both emotional and physical. “You know, it’s imposing.”

Thomas was confused. What did you mean by that?

You giggled and then explained: “Everything you went through, Luda told me. I think you are amazing, despite everything people did to you; still, you have such a kind heart.” Thomas completely melted. He didn’t understand how someone so perfect could give him honest compliments. Thomas was still very self-conscious. As you tenderly tended to his other wounds, you saw the already healed scars on his body—some on his torso, a lot of them on his arms. Your expression saddened at sight, and Thomas noticed. There were some bigger scars, you knew that those were probably from the victims, but there were also ones with a certain pattern. You ran your fingers across them. Thomas flinched as he wasn’t used to someone touching him, especially his scars. It was his secret, his bad habit.

“You did that?” you asked with glassy eyes, even though you knew the answer. Thomas nodded and looked away in embarrassment.

“I’ll make sure you never have a reason to do that ever again, Tommy. I will always be here for you.” You grabbed his hand and gently kissed each and every scar.

Thomas’s eyes widened; he was stunned. He expected you to condemn him or mock his weakness, but your reaction was something else. Again. You were so special, different from anyone else. You loved him for him. Thomas wrapped his arms around you and embraced you in a tight hug. He hid his face, and tears streamed down his cheeks. All the pent-up pain in him, leaving his body as you ran your fingers through his hair and kissed his neck.

A/N: New chapter in 2 days <3 Tomorrow I will post the short story for Hilliker brothers from the Wrong Turn series and some of the Art RQs I got.

And I am still taking requests, both Art and Writing ones.

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veliseraptor · 4 years

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Down in the Yi City Pit: A Recs Post

So as anyone following me may have noticed, I’ve been spiraling ever deeper into a pit called Yi City Feelings. I’m down at the bottom and I’m still digging. This also means I’ve been doing a lot of fic reading, and I figure it’s about time that I wrote a recs list, since I said I’d do it and some people expressed interest.

Heads up that I am a dirty Xue Yang stan first and foremost, so this list is going to skew in, uh, that direction. Just so we’re all aware.

Divided these into canonverse recs and modern au recs, since apparently this is the only thing I’ll read modern aus for! It’s a brave new world out here.

Also like. blanket warnings across the board here for The Inherent Dubiousness of Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen as a Pairing, Generally. I’ll offer more specific/major ones as they’re relevant/I remember, but please check the tags/authors notes as well.

CANONVERSE

lover to your nightmare by Zaatar (@ameliarating) . Xue Yang uses Xiao Xingchen getting sick as an opportunity to fuck around a little. Second person POV sickfic, except XueXiao flavored sickfic which means it’s messy and full of good things like “delirium” and “people taking advantage of other peoples’ confusion and disorientation to mess with them psychologically.” This fic also does the thing I love really well where Xue Yang’s internal monologue/self-justification is full of indications that he’s having Feelings that he neither recognizes nor acknowledges. Crunchy, delicious.

Samsara / 輪迴 by ForgivenMemes. Upsetting fic full of every content warning ever alert! (Off the top of my head: violence, rape, suicide, self-harm.) I keep going back to this fic and rereading it because it hurts so bad and I love it, because it hurts in the best worst self-sabotage recapitulating-mistakes-over-and-over way. Like, I am a sucker for a time loop fic always, and usually I read them as a route to fixing things - but honestly I’ve always loved the part of time loop fics that’s “everything getting worse first.” And this is a whole fic of “everything getting worse.” Aka, the one where Xue Yang has thousands of chances to get it right, but there’s no getting it right.

compromise by Sectionladvivi. Xiao Xingchen convinces Song Lan and Xue Yang to kiss. (aka, obviously Yi City AU where Song Lan gets folded into things, Xiao Xingchen still doesn’t know about Xue Yang being Xue Yang, and an uneasy detente where the two of them don’t touch each other gets interrupted by Xiao Xingchen Wanting Things, which is, of course, a priority always).

til dawn by Sectionladvivi. Xue Yang takes care of Xiao Xingchen’s body after his death, and mind the tags. This is that perfect Yi City level of “horrifying and also very sad, I feel bad for my boy but also he is sort of defiling a corpse (though it is just kissing).” This might not sound like a recommendation but it is absolutely a recommendation.

Our Antebellum Innocence by spockandawe (@spockandawe). First time XueXiao. Xue Yang lays the groundwork for his first time with Xiao Xingchen with meticulous care. This author always delivers, both in terms of excellent porn and in terms of characterization, and this is no exception.

life’s illusions I recall by Sour_Idealist (@souridealist). The basics of this fic is just “outdoor sex at a river” and it is delicious for that, but what I love about it in particular is this author’s Xue Yang voice. It’s always good (they are the genius behind the incredible Jiang Yanli/Xue Yang fic - no, really), and this is a fic I come back to a lot for that reason. I also love the tag “two characters experiencing two very different fics” which feels like a very apt description for the XueXiao dynamic, generally speaking.

Selenographia by lightningwaltz. A lovely, short-ish fic about the Yi City years. I don’t feel like I have a good description for this one - it’s just one of those beautiful character/moment portrait pieces, very well done.

Stories from A Lonely City by blackwatervial. A series of snapshots/vignettes from the three years in Yi City. Sweetness, bittersweetness, and of course, ultimately, a sad end. This was one of the first Yi City fics I read.

yi city depression hours by glueskin (series). Just. You know. Some feelings. There’s two fics in this one, both short character study type fics making me feel feelings.

a bird caught in this winter blizzard by cherriru. I do love a good grief/mourning fic, especially featuring someone realizing slowly the sheer miserable depths of their fuck-up. Aka, Xue Yang after Xiao Xingchen’s death. It’s just sad.

all I ever knew of love by Sour_Idealist (@souridealist). See what I said above about the Xue Yang voice and this author; this one also featuring blistering hot porn (first time), a little light praise kink, and huddling for warmth as an excuse for sex. It’s a perfect blend of filth and tenderness and I love it.

revelations wallet wood burn art by Sectionladvivi. This one describes itself in the summary as “grim pwp” and yeah, that fits (and also! is such a XueXiao vibe, whoop whoop); it’s based off the simple premise of ‘Xue Yang tells Xiao Xingchen who he is, in the middle of sex.’ Honestly, one of my favorite things about this fic is the ending, which is horrifying in the best possible way.

Your Heart Inside My Hands by williamshooketh (@ectoplasm-james). This fic is fabulously made for me in the specific subgenre of “Xue Yang thinks he knows what he is getting into when having sex with Xiao Xingchen and, it turns out, does not.” This one featuring some of my favorite things including praise kink and Xue Yang getting extremely fucked up by someone being very nice to him.

Sleep Until the Sun Goes Down by spockandawe (@spockandawe). Love me some Xiao Xingchen seducing Xue Yang with candy. First time fic, second person POV, absolutely delightful.

pass the time by short_tandem_repeats (@yiling). A-Qing and Xue Yang bonding hours. I am actually such a sucker for their weird relationship (I don’t poke at it enough in my own stuff, should work on that) and the way they recognize each other in ways that Xiao Xingchen doesn’t, and also a-Qing having to reckon with the ways in which she’s more like Xue Yang than like Xiao Xingchen. Just a very good fic with a delightful a-Qing.

Three Springs by Verbana. Just a really excellent Xiao Xingchen POV of the three years in Yi City and a developing relationship between Xiao Xingchen and Xue Yang. Beautifully written, a lovely escalation, and I’m absolutely delighted by the gentle loneliness of the Xiao Xingchen POV here.

Red Azalea by CeNedraRiva (@cenedrariva) (WIP). A longfic in progress following the continuing adventures of the Yi City Crew after Xiao Xingchen survives his suicide attempt and Xue Yang reconsiders some life choices. Recently got tag-updated to SongXueXiao which has me absolutely thrilled. Updates every Wednesday.

ephemeral by im_krying (WIP). Xue Yang, traveling around wearing Xiao Xingchen’s face, decides it is time to go looking for the last remaining part of Xiao Xingchen that he doesn’t already possess. That is to say, the eyes in Song Lan’s head. I’m really curious where this is going - it smells up my alley at this point though it’s been a bit since the last update.

Heaven Has a Road But No One Walks It by Silvestris (@silvysartfulness) (WIP). Things I love: beating on Xue Yang, SongXueXiao, terrible road trips, fix-its where there’s a lot of suffering involved. Things this fic has: all of the above. I’m in love.

MODERN AU

(There are other recs to this one but for various reasons (pwp reasons) triggered my self-consciousness slightly too much to put on this post. Go check my bookmarks, you’ll find stuff there.

Most of these are PWP to greater or lesser extents (Rewritten and Misalignment are, I’d say, the exceptions); all very hot and fantastically written.)

circling like vultures by brawlite (@brawlite) (series). Truly quality porn, featuring mostly Xue Yang/Song Lan both pining for Xiao Xingchen, which is a thing that it turns out I really like. The sex is rough and mean and I’m really into it. (Okay, mostly the sex in the first one is mean, the second one is actually XueYao, and the third one is actually verging on nice. Wow! Growth. Anyway, it’s all very good and very My Scene.

Rewritten by incendir (series). This series is like. Everything I want from a modern AU and that was true even before the most recent fic gifted me a beat up Xue Yang suffering, so you know. I don’t have a good summary for this series other than that it’s basically a married Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen adopting Xue Yang as a third partner and it’s just. So well done, such good writing, such good characterization, I would read 20,000 more words of this and probably still be hungry.

catalyst by Ajaxthegreat. If there is a porny fic I’ve reread more than this one, I’m not sure what it would be. I’ve reread this one a lot. It’s very good. It’s very hot. I’m trying not to be self-conscious. SongXueXiao first time rough sex and boy is it tasty.

biting the bullet by Sectionladvivi. Xiao Xingchen doesn’t want to have to choose between his two boyfriends and so he doesn’t. Sectionladvivi in general writes some very sexy modern au PWP (including a few different Xue Yang/Lan Wangji fics which...didn’t see that one coming! But it works when they do it), so general rec for author but this one (as, you know, SongXueXiao porn), is one of my favorites, probably.

sxx configurations by rynleaf (series). This is a SongXueXiao series on AO3 based off of @kevinkevinson‘s modern reincarnation AU and I am in love with both the art for that AU (go look!) and these fics, they’re so good, I’ve reread several times.

Misalignment by Kasasagi (WIP). The one with a reincarnated Xue Yang and a Xiao Xingchen who arrives in the modern world from the past, fresh off his suicide.

And Once Again, if I’m Allowed to Rec My Own Fic

a kindness you can’t afford. Early days in Yi City after Xue Yang wakes up.

lick your exit wounds. I wanted canonverse-era bottom Xue Yang praise kink, so I wrote it for myself in the hopes others would also find this an interesting prospect.

this place could be beautiful. Xue Yang vs. domestic living.

tear out all your tenderness. Xue Yang gets turned on by murder and makes it a project to get Xiao Xingchen to lose control.

the beauty of your repair. PWP, modern AU SongXueXiao; there’s not an inkling of plot here, it’s really just an excuse to get Xue Yang wrecked, but nicely.

#finally posting this!!!#yi city crew #fic rec #song lan #xue yang #xiao xingchen #i'm sure i'm missing things but there's only so much i can do #xuexiao #songxue #songxuexiao

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saedii-gilwraeth-simp · 3 years

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This post but I wanted to do it with just ArsinoexBilly No. 3

Who rocks the Ferris Wheel seat and who flips out and begs them to stop?

Arsinoe rocks the Ferris Wheel seat bc she’s a little shit and while Billy is not surprised, he still will flip out and get closer to her in an attempt to get her to stop

Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place and at any time?

Billy. Look, it’s just that everything Arsinoe is a big turn on for him and she let him, they would never leave their bedroom, that’s all.

Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time?

Arsinoe will exclusively convince Billy to bathe/shower together to make it sexy but Billy will convince Arsinoe for the relaxation, usually after both of them have had a hard day physically or mentally.

Who likes to walk around the house naked and who tells the other to go put some clothes on?

Arsinoe will walk around naked bc she literally just does not give a single shit about rule of proper society but Billy is definitely not about to tell her to put clothes back on.

Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight?

Billy does but Arsinoe gets sad when he’s not with her so she will usually join him at about 2-3am.

Who takes photos of the other while they sleep?

Arsinoe, because Billy just looks so calm and pretty when he’s asleep and she wants to immortalise it

Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?

Billy says I love you first but Arsinoe ends arguments with it because when she gets passionate she is the less likely of the two to have that filter.

Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts?

It’s basically canon at this point that the answer is Arsinoe. She just really likes that Billy’s sweatshirts are warm and smell like him and she will only give them back to Billy when the sweatshirts stop smelling like him.

Who wakes the other up in the middle of the night to tell them a cool dream they had? Who has the most nightmares, and who sings them back to sleep after?

Both will wake the other up about cool dreams and then forget to go back to sleep. Arsinoe has worse nightmares but Billy has gotten the comforting routine down to an art so it usually doesn’t take too much extra time to soothe her back to sleep.

Who is more likely to cheat?

Neither. There isn’t any one else who could compare.

Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?

Arsinoe: Aww, babe, you had a crush on me, that so embarrassing for you! Billy: We’re married

Who starts a food fight in the kitchen?

Neither of them are allowed in a kitchen long enough to start a food fight but the answer is still Arsinoe

Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer?

Billy initiates duets as a joke, but Arsinoe is incapable of being a bad singer

Who starts the hand holding? Who grabs the others butt? Who slides their arm around their waist? Who likes to put their fingers in the belt loops?

Billy will grab Arsinoe’s hand whenever he’s close enough to do so, Arsinoe has worked out that if she wears a skirt, they’re similar enough in height that no one would notice her grab Billy’s butt in public, Billy wraps his arms around Arsinoe’s waist all the time and both will grab each other by the belt loops.

Who likes writes the others name on their wrist?

Neither. It’s just not their vibe but if they were to do it, it would be as a joke.

Who is more seductive when they are drunk? and who is louder in bed?

The drunker Billy is, the more likely he is to just be openly seductive but it is more amusing to Arsinoe than it is seductive. Both of them are pretty expressive in bed, but Billy wins.

Who is more protective?

Arsinoe. She will cut a bitch if anyone hurts Billy (or really any of the people she cares about

Who talks to the other while they are sleeping?

Arsinoe if she’s awake when Billy’s not, but she also will just talk to an empty room if Billy is not there.

Who drives and who has the window seat?

Billy drives, Arsinoe has the passenger seat and will use that opportunity to always, always have her feet up on the dashboard.

Who falls asleep in the others lap and who carries them to bed?

Arsinoe falls asleep on Billy’s lap and he will carry her to bed, but Billy often will fall asleep on top of Arsinoe and she’ll just stay where she is.

Who cuts the others hair?

Arsinoe cuts Billy’s hair bc it means she can have it as short or long as she wants.

Who is super bad at sexting? and who sends them encouraging messages throughout the day?

Billy is terrible at sexting bc he is a a lot more confident in person but Arsinoe is the best sexter without trying. Billy will usually send encouraging messages but it really depends on the day bc both are really openly good at being affectionate.

Who thinks they are not good enough for the others love? and who’s more afraid of loosing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?

Neither. Both are very secure in their relationship status and there’s never really been a reason for this kind of angst in their lives.

Who starts random slow dancing with the other in the kitchen? Who holds the other just above the ground and kisses them?

Billy will dance usually in the early mornings when they’re kind of relaxed. Arsinoe will usually be humming and Billy will just start leading her. Billy also lifts Arsinoe off the gorund to kiss her when he’s really excited

Who says shitty puns and sex jokes just to see the other giggle and blush?

Billy and it’s also at moments where Arsinoe doesn’t expect them which adds to her reaction. Billy accidentally made one of those to jokes to Arsinoe in front of his mother and as you can probably guess, it didn’t go down well.

Who kissed first?

Arsinoe, and it was a little surprising to Billy.

Who orders take out at two in a morning? and who wakes the other up at three in the morning to go downstairs with them to get a glass of water because it’s too dark?

Arsinoe will order take out at literally any time of the day but she always shares it. Billy will wake Arsinoe up at 3am but he has to promise to give her some form of food form the kitchen in order to get her to actually get out of bed.

Who writes poems/stories and love songs about the other? Do they sing the songs the write for them?

Arsinoe has only ever written one song specifically about how she feels about Billy but she refuses to sing it for him bc it’s a really emotional song for her to sing.

Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?

Arsinoe does crazy stunts and she pulls them off like you wouldn’t believe but when she does eventually fuck one up and hurt herself, Billy drives her to the hospital and doesn’t yell at her until he knows she’s fine, then he gets very mad at her.

Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute?

Arsinoe is very self conscious about her glasses but Billy thinks they’re adorable and will tell her at literally any opportunity

#three dark crowns #one dark throne #two dark reigns #five dark fates #kendare blake #queen arsinoe #billy x arsinoe #billy chatworth

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

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a/n: I 1000000% know that unless you’ve read my fic The Dragon Kings Treasure, this is going to be TOTALLY out of context and you will likely have literally no idea about what’s going on or their history. I’ll be posting this little snippet in my AO3 post at the end of the story if you feel like you’d rather read the full thing first before you read this. There’s some spoilers in this, so if you’ve been planning on reading TDKT and haven’t yet, I’d suggest doing that first for context

Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Koge Naegi (OC) (Fantasy AU)

Story Rating: Explicit

Genre: Fluff / Romance / Domestic / Fantasy AU

Story Warnings: Sex (vaginal), hand job, inhuman extremities (yes, dick) and mutations (dragon), size difference, rough sex, dirty talk, name calling, breeding (sorta), stomach bulge, Bakugou’s insecure, Koge’s horny

Words: 5,110

Written for the @bnhabookclub ‘s members bingo event!

Crossed off: Mirror Sex

Bingo Masterlist

Art in banner by me

“I am actually going to kill you, Koge.”

“Just do it gently, okay?”

Bakugou grumbled at the completely unbothered response from his lover, glowering at her through a mirror. Laying on his stomach, sprawled out on their bed, the young Lord found himself beyond agitated with himself and with his wife, but not for any regular old reason. No, the problem was something that no one could have ever predicted, and it was something that couldn’t be stopped, either. Reversing the process was also out of the question, so he was condemned to adjust himself to the changes of his body, both internal and external. But, compliance didn’t correlate to happiness in this situation, especially not when paired with the pain and frustrations that came with the changes.

It didn’t help that his wife was more that ecstatic about his newfound dragon extremities. The thick, dark red tail that protruded from the base of his hips and horns perched atop his head were the current bane of his existence, as the past few months of them growing into place were like putting him through daily torture. The changes to his hands and the horns, he had gotten used to long ago, but the currently swaying scaled appendage that protruded from his hips had been the most difficult to accept. It was large and cumbersome, always knocking things over, hitting people, or even causing him to trip over his own feet. Even now, as it knocked annoyingly against his own legs, he wished that he could just cut the damn thing off. Why did it even have to grow in the first place?

Well, he knew why.

His wife. The absolute love of his life and mother to his son, the woman he had chosen to be always by his side and Queen of his land. She was the reason this had happened to him, or, at least, a large percentage of it. The rest was his own bloodline, his family and heritage, but this wasn’t exactly something he had expected to happen. His wife, being a dragon halfling, had always sported her dragon features when in her human form, and had the presence, scents, and mannerisms of one at all times. Sure, she could fit in with humans, outside of her inability to register their words if they weren’t dragonborn of some kind, but in the end, she was a dragon. That fact is what prompted these changes in him that he couldn’t control.

It all went back to his bloodline. His family had always had dragon blood, but the last that had dragon features, that he could remember, was his great grandfather. Since then, each royal child born didn’t have physical dragon features, nor could they change into a dragon. All they had was the magic. Until now. Just being with his wife had prompted a change within him, starting out small at first with the ability to purr and his senses more enhanced than they had already been. Then came the changes to his hands, red scales coating the top and down along his wrist and half of his forearm, with thicker skin along his palms and long claws. This change was quick, only a few days of inability to use his hands or take care of the horrible itch that came with it on his own, though Koge was more than willing to help him with that. In truth, Bakugou didn’t think he could have gotten through any of the changes without her help. She knew how to soothe the pain of his horns growing in and massaged his back and tail as it grew over many weeks.

Now, there was no pain. All that was left was to adjust. New clothes, new sleeping positions, new feelings beneath the now sensitive skin of his fingers and palms. The new smells, sounds, and urges, they all required a huge adjustment, but the tail. The tail was the worst of them all.

“Why a fucking tail?” Bakugou whined into the sheets, turning his face into the soft plush fabric to keep his glare off the swaying appendage. “The horns are fine. The hands suck. But a fucking tail?! Koge, I hate it.”

“It did grow in quite big in the end, but it’s really pretty-”

“-Don’t call it pretty-!”

“-And handsome. Rugged. Who knew you had such strong dragon blood that it would come out looking like this!” Scooting her petite body closer, Koge’s fingers traced lightly down his spine, purring sweetly when she breached the hump of his tail. “I love it. I can’t wait until you get more control over it so I can cuddle in it.”

“Tch, and what the fuck is wrong with my arms, huh?!”

“You can’t tell, Katsuki, but your tail is way warmer than your arms.”

In agitation of her argument, his tail swished about roughly, making Koge giggle softly as pillows were knocked from the bed. To avoid getting hit, Koge flopped down to lay up against his side, wiggling and nudging herself beneath his arm until he was forced onto his side, hugging her to him tightly in an attempted punishment. Nuzzling his face into her hair, he felt instantly calmed by the sweet sounds of her purr, which radiated through his mind like a million bees, making his heart and stomach flutter. Then, within no time, his own deep rumbling began, his purr completely swallowing hers in intensity.

“Ooh see, you can’t be that mad if you start purring so easily.” Koge nuzzled her face up against his neck, her tail falling to rest over his legs, intertwining with his as he calmed. Holding her body in closer, Bakugou scoffed quietly, lifting his head so he could see her face.

“You use that against me. Because I can’t help it.”

“Why can’t you help it?” Koge nuzzled her nose against his tenderly, smiling at the sight of his reptilian pupils dilating in pleasurable response to her affections. “You can’t hide your mushy feelings from me, now. Of course I might take advantage of that sometimes.”

“I can’t help it for obvious fucking reasons.” Bakugou’s snarl and growl of his voice didn’t match his touch or change in the pitch of his purr, spurred on by Koge letting her leg rest over his hips so she could be closer to him. “I love your stupid ass, of course I’m going to start up if you do.”

“It’s so cute!” She placed a soft kiss on his lips, though found herself trapped for more than just a few moments as he refused to let her pull away, his hand even slipping up her back to rest against the back of her head. “Mm… I didn’t expect your dragon blood to make you so… affectionate.”

“The fuck does that mean?” With a growl against her lips, Bakugou rolled them over so she was beneath him, taking both of her arms to pin them up above her head, fingers lacing with hers tenderly. “I’m not any more affectionate than I was, dumbass.” Squeezing his hips playfully with her knees, Koge’s smile grew sly.

“I just expected you to become more aggressive and territorial. But instead you’re super sweet, purring, and cuddly. Just like a little pup.”

“Excuse me?!” Bakugou’s purr was cut short with his rush of agitation, his voice booming through their large chambers as Koge laughed. “I’m not a fucking whelp! You take that back!”

“What are you gonna do about it, pup?” Koge couldn’t resist a grin at the flushing of his cheeks, baring her fangs to him playfully. “Gonna whine and spew a little fire out of your nose? Or are you gonna put me in my place?”

With a frustrated growl, Bakugou could only glare down at her for a moment before pulling away, sitting up turning to sit on the edge of the bed, once again facing the mirror. “Oh fuck off! You know I can’t!”

Frowning as guilt began to creep up on her, Koge sat up as well, placing her hand gingerly on his back. “Ah Katsuki, I’m sorry. I… I’ve just been feeling a little frisky lately, especially since that… new change happened. I’m… It’s a bit hard for me to control myself.”

“Tch… It’s fine.” Bakugou’s glare was once again locked on his own reflection, though the center of his focus was his hips. There was another change to his body, one that he had been doing everything he could to hide from her until recently and had continually hoped that it would just vanish. It happened at the worst time, too, as Koge had just gotten to where she was comfortable making love to him again after further recovering from her trauma as a slave. They had almost gotten back to normal, and then his bloodline had to make the biggest dick move ever. Quite literally, in fact.

His manhood had changed to further match his outward extremities. It wasn’t all that extreme, but it was enough to not only make him horrifically self-conscious about it, but fear that he would never properly have sex again. It had grown, in length and girth, with mostly human characteristics, outside of scales at the base that wrapped back around his hips to his tail, a series of ridges along the sides, and a more angled tip. The foreskin he had always sported did little to hide the changes, even when completely flaccid, though hiding it at all was impossible at this point.

With heightened senses and urges, Bakugou found himself craving Koge’s attention, affection, and body more frequently than he had before. They had gotten used to it when his dick was normal, but for a few weeks, now, he had to suffer through the urges without being able to satisfy himself in any way. At first, he came up with excuses as to why he didn’t want to or couldn’t, mostly concerning the pain of his tail - which wasn’t completely a lie - just so that he could avoid the situation all together. But much to his dismay, Koge was quite clever, and she picked up on his odd behavior quickly.

“Your dick changed, didn’t it?” She had cornered him one morning when she had tried to come onto him right before he got into the bath. “Let me see it!”

He had let her, of course, but that only made things worse for him. She wasn’t put off by the changes in the slightest, nor was she concerned that it would be an issue. But he was, and he couldn’t quite get the fear out of his head. Of course, he knew that he would have to come to terms with it eventually and try to do something with this change, even if that jump was going to be difficult. Each time Koge offered to work with him or try anything, he’d back out, leaving him with a very painful experience of having to let his raging boner settle on its own. He couldn’t quite find it within himself to masturbate to get rid of the buildup or his urges, as even the feeling and pleasures were different and way more intense than what he was used to. Out of everything, his dick was the last thing he expected to change, and it had oddly taken the biggest mental toll on him.

His erections were impossible to hide. Any touch that wasn’t his clothing or taking a piss felt like white hot lightning sparking through his body. Sitting or laying were made even more awkward when paired with his tail. He couldn’t properly make love to his wife. He couldn’t pleasure himself. He had to learn how to not walk awkwardly. Any clothes that could accommodate his tail still couldn’t handle his new manhood.

He was different from head to toe, and that bothered him more than he was willing to say out loud. In the end, he didn’t need to say anything. Koge could see it all, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating for her, too. She wanted to help him adjust, more than anything, but it was impossible if he continually blocked himself off like this. Even now, he was trying to hide his obvious boner with his arms, and the discomfort on his expression was worrisome. He may be too reluctant to do something about it himself, but Koge knew that eventually, she’d have to show him that it was okay. By ‘eventually’, she knew that it would have to be now, while the subject was brought to the front and they had no chance of being interrupted.

“Katsuki,” Koge purred near his ear softly, resting her body against his back while her arms came to rest over his broad shoulders. “Let me try-”

“-Koge-”

“- Just a little. You can’t keep going like this. We can’t keep going like this. Sooner or later, you have to let me face the dragon dick. If you just let me try, you’ll see that it’ll be okay.”

Bakugou glowered at his lover out of the corner of his eye, still hunched over his own body in reluctance and worry. “You haven’t seen it erect yet, Koge. It’s… You can’t take it.”

“You underestimate me a little, I think.” Koge nuzzled her nose against his cheek, giving him a firm kiss on the flushed skin. “I’m not human, remember? And your body is reacting to me. I’ll show you that I can take it just fine. Please?”

“I’ll feel like shit if it doesn’t work out…”

“Or you’ll continue to feel like shit if you never try. Right?”

“Tch… You’re right.”

Scooting off the bed, Koge stood in front of him, holding both of her hands out towards him. “Well? Let me help you, Katsuki. I promise it will feel good for both of us.” Although he wanted to take her hands immediately, Bakugou still hesitated, glancing over her body before catching her gentle gaze. Just looking at her like this, clad in nothing but a white sleeping gown, so flushed and unexpecting, had him immediately struggling not to snatch her off her feet and pin her onto the bed beneath him. The thought had his manhood straining, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to take this type of painful tension any longer. He needed to get past this, so he shifted himself to sit up, taking both of her hands tenderly in acceptance of her help.

Smiling, Koge stepped in closer to stand between his legs, letting her hands slide up his arms with a slow and gentle touch that had goosebumps prickling along his skin. As she caressed the sides of his neck, his hands took hold of her petite hips, scooting himself closer to the edge of the bed to be able to pull her body flush against him. It was so incredibly difficult to hold himself back, the feeling of her body beneath his hands and the scent of her arousal completely overwhelming him, but the tender kisses she placed on his lips helped keep him grounded. Her purr soothed him, almost to the point that he felt as if he were floating, not noticing her hands slip down between their bodies until they sneaked beneath his pants to grip the source of his problems.

At first, the hiss that escaped from between his teeth was from the chill of her hands, until her fingers traced along the prominent ridges, each little bump feeling as if she were stroking his tip. Or, what he remembered stimulation to his tip feeling like when he still had a normal dick. Then, the hiss grew into a deep growl, his entire body stiffening and his hands slipping around to grip her backside as she stroked him with both hands, up and down the aching shaft while avoiding the tip. “Mm, fuck- Yeah, tighter. That’s it-!”

“My hands can’t even wrap around it all the way, Katsuki. And you’re dribbling so much cum already. It’s so warm.” Taking half a step back, Koge shifted his pants down out of the way to free him completely, keeping a little space between them so she could see her work. She wasn’t the only one watching, Bakugou’s eyes locked on the way her hands moved, displacing the slowly flowing precum with each firm stroke up and down his shaft. With the liquid acting as a lubricant, Koge was able to increase her speed, stroking all the way from the base to right before the tip. Before long, Bakugou’s entire body was trembling, his face shoved into her shoulder as he struggled to control his urges to pant and moan.

“Stop teasing me, Koge!”

“If I go there, you’ll cum really quick.”

“Do it!”

The growling demand made Koge bite her bottom lip, stroking from the base all the way back up to the tip, which immediately forced a trembling moan from his lips as he pulled her body back in closer. He was throbbing in her hands by now, each new stroke across his sensitive tip sending him further into an uncontrollable ecstasy. Within no time, what Koge had warned came to fruition, with Bakugou cumming after a few teasing strokes of her thumb around his tip. The petite woman didn’t expect it, of course, nor did she expect Bakugou to tug her body back up against him while rutting his hips forward so his cock stroked against the silk of her gown and soft form of her stomach. Within seconds, the front of the gown was drenched with his cum, the load much larger than either of them could have really expected. It stuck fast to Koge’s skin, hot and thick, coating her fingers and soaking through the thin fabric of her gown to dribble down her stomach.

Panting as he came down from his high, Bakugou kept his face shoved into her shoulder, his entire body tingling with the weight of his release. “Fuck… That’s so much more than before…”

“If you mean cum, then yeah, that’s a lot.” Koge moved back from him a bit, prompting Bakugou to sit up himself and observe the damage. One hand still lightly stroking up and down his still hard shaft, Koge brought the other to her lips, licking the cum from her fingers. “Mm, yummy. You even taste better, Katsuki.”

“That’s a weird thing to notice.” Bakugou glowered up at his lover as she took another step back, first wiping her hands on her already ruined shift before pulling her arms inside and out through the neck opening. With it being so oversized, and with the added weight of the liquid that soaked it, it fell around her feet, leaving her bare. Just like nearly every time he saw her like this, Bakugou felt a lump grow in his throat, the glow of her pale skin in the dim light bringing on the urge to just touch and squeeze. Though, even as the chance presented itself to him with her crawling up onto his lap, he felt frozen, the nerves of still not being able to do this properly creeping back up on him. “Koge-”

“Shh,” Holding onto his shoulders for support and facing him, Koge straddled his lap, knees firmly dug into the mattress. Not quite sitting down onto him yet, the halfling arched her backside out, turning her head a bit to look over her shoulder at the mirror behind them. “Look, Katsuki. See how wet you make me? How badly my body wants you?”

Tearing his eyes off her collarbone area to look over her shoulder as well, the fire in Bakugou’s chest grew hotter from the view she presented to him, having to clench his teeth together to keep him from acting out. Dripping with her essence, Koge’s pussy was incredibly enticing, puffy, and pink with the need for the attention she had been denied all this time. Even still, she was so incredibly small compared to him, and her petite body just didn’t seem like it would be able to take him comfortably. “Koge… It won’t-”

“It will,” Shifting her hips up, Koge let his cock rest between her legs, lowering herself down just enough to be able to grind against him. “I want your cock inside me so badly, Katsuki.” Cupping his cheeks, Koge kept her lips close to his, moaning softly with the stimulation to her clit. “Please let me. I’m begging you. Can’t you feel how hot my body is for you?”

Gripping onto her hips tightly, Bakugou lightly dug his claws into her skin in frustration, which only prompted more vigorous efforts from his wife. Of course he wanted this. He wanted to fill her up to the brim and fuck her until she was an absolute mess. And he could. She wanted it. Then, with a teasing swipe of her cunt along his tip, she broke his restraint, and all he wanted was to be inside her. With a low growl, he reached up and took a fist full of her hair into his grip at the base of her head, firm enough to make her gasp and stop the rolling of her hips.

“Fine.” Bakugou growled against her jawline, keeping her head firmly pulled back to keep her submissive and in place. “But you’d better be able to take it.” With that, his other hand guided her hips up and back, his tip slipping inside of her with ease. Immediately, a sharp gasp erupted from her throat, both of her hands moving back to clutch onto his shoulders while it took every ounce of Bakugou’s self-control not to slam her down all the way. Instead, he urged her down inch by inch, her chest heaving and body trembling as she took him in. By the time he was completely sheathed inside her, Koge was already nothing more than a panting mess, eyes rolled back, and nails dug into his skin. “Look at you. Fucking ruined already.”

The sound of his voice helped pull her back, biting down onto her bottom lip when he released her hair and catching his gaze. “I-I can take it, though. See? I just… Mm, it feels so good, I can’t… I can’t move.” Koge looked back over her shoulder again to see them, her cheeks flushing bright red at how huge he looked stretching her out like this.

Smirking, Bakugou pressed his lips against her temple, his eyes on their reflection as well. “Let me help you.” Finding that they were sufficiently lubricated, both from her and from his still present cum, Bakugou was easily able to pull her hips up and back down again, using his strength to make her bounce on his cock. The moans that escaped from her lips were like none he had heard before, the pure ecstasy drowning out all rational thought she may have had left. Within no time, she had taken over the rhythm, slamming her hips down onto him from tip to base with only the pleasure driving her forward.

Resting back on his hands to keep them supported, Bakugou couldn’t get his eyes off their reflection, just seeing her body bounce and the way his cock vanished inside her hypnotizing him completely. She could take him, and the feeling of being one with her again like this was beyond what he would consider to be euphoria. Though, it was when she began to grind her hips that he nearly lost his control, tearing his eyes away from the mirror to look down at her. Leaning back with her hands supported on his knees, Koge rolled her hips with just as much effort as she had been before, though her eyes were locked on her stomach.

“F-fuck-!” Overwhelmed with the pleasure, tears began to roll down her brightly flushed cheeks, though they were of little consequence. “Fuck! It’s so good! Your cock is so good! So deep inside me! You can…- ah! You can see it!” Sure enough, with each passing roll of her hips, a bulge was visible in her lower abdomen, instantly bringing a deep growl of satisfaction from Bakugou’s chest.

“Yeah? You like seeing that while you fuck yourself on my cock, Koge?” One arm still behind him for support, his other hand came up to grip her hip, urging her to be more aggressive. “How I fill up that slutty fucking pussy?”

“Yes!” Koge’s voice squeaked and trembled, struggling to keep up the momentum against the pleasure. “I love it!”

“Well here, let me give you a better view.” Simultaneously standing up and scooping her body up off his cock, Bakugou made his way over to the mirror, turning her so that her back was pressed against his torso while supporting and spreading open her legs. Puzzled, Koge could only stare at their reflections, watching his cock twitch and her essence leak from her cunt that was aching for his return. With this view, she could truly see the size of him compared to her, making her feel suddenly so small and vulnerable, yet she wanted his cock back inside her more than anything in that moment.

“K-Katsuki-!”

“What, baby? You want it back inside you?”

“Please!” Koge flexed her feet and toes impatiently, sniffling against her stuffed-up nose that came along with the tears. “Please, Katsuki! Put it back inside- a-ah!!” Clenching her eyes shut tightly, Koge leaned her head back against his shoulder at the feeling of his tip slipping back inside her, though her reaction was cut short by Bakugou’s deep and demanding growl in her ear.

“Lift your head up and watch, you horny bitch. I want you to watch how my cock stretches out that tight little cunt.”

Taking in trembling breaths, Koge weakly lifted her head, teary gaze locked back on their reflections. She watched as demanded, gasping and hiccupping as each inch vanished inside her, until he had filled her up to the base. In this position, the bulge in her lower abdomen was even more visible, though she didn’t have much time to take it all in before he started to thrust his hips up into her. A squeal escaped her parted lips with the first rough thrust, sending more pleasured tears cascading down her cheeks as he fucked her. With him in control, it felt like a completely different experience, her mind no longer having to focus on attempting to move.

Now, all she had was him, fucking her relentlessly while she rested secure against his chest. The visual of them only made her hotter, able to see the way his cock ravaged her, his large hands supporting her legs, her breasts bouncing with the movement, and even his expression. That is what she loved to watch the most, how his expression was contorted with the pleasure and he was absolutely lost in it. Though, his eyes were on the reflection as well, and they eventually caught hers staring at his face.

Bakugou felt himself immediately overwhelmed with the state of her ruined body, limp in his grip and completely drunk with pleasure. He wanted to destroy her more, to sink his teeth and claws into her silky flesh until she was marked head to toe by him. And yet, he wanted to hold and caress her, just to feel her tender touch along his burning skin. He wanted all of her and more. “What, Koge? Is it too much for you?”

“N-no-!”

“No?”

“No! I-I love it! I love it! Fuck-!” Koge leaned her head back, eyes rolling up as Bakugou adjusted the position to slam even harder into her. “Yes! I-I haven’t stopped cumming since you put it inside me-! I can’t think!”

“You’re such a good girl. You want my cum, baby?”

“Yes! Yes, I want it! Please fill me up! Breed me! I’m begging you!”

Something animalistic snapped inside Bakugou with her plea, and without a second thought, he turned and shoved her face down into the bed, keeping her hips up in his firm grip as he fucked her mercilessly. Koge’s voice once again peaked, clutching onto the sheets as she moaned and cried into them. The new aggression and dominance he was displaying had her entire body screaming to have his cum inside her, the urge to mate with him so strong that she couldn’t ignore it. All she could sense was him, from his scent to the taste his cum had left on her lips, and without him she knew she would surely go insane.

“Such an obedient little mate,” Bakugou’s grunts and moans began to mix with a deep growl, sending prickling goosebumps across Koge’s flushed and sweaty skin. “I’ll fill you up, slut. I’ll make sure you get what you’re begging for.”

Within the next few moments, Bakugou’s thrusts became erratic as he shifted his body closer to hover over her, digging himself in as deep as he could as he released inside her. With each rough buck of his hips into hers, Koge could feel the hot, thick liquid fill her, struggling to find room beside the large presence of his cock. Still, she couldn’t move or say a word, her entire body twitching and pulsing with the remnants of her final orgasm, squeezing his cock and forcing a sharp hiss from his behind his teeth.

“That’s it, baby. Take it all in.” Taking hold of her ass in his hands, Bakugou spread her open, smirking in satisfaction at the sight of his cum leaking from her cunt around his cock. Slowly, he began to pull out, giving a deep purr at the mess his cum made with his exit, dribbling from her and onto the bed. “Fuck. Your cunt’s too small for all that cum, Koge.”

Panting as she tried to recover some feeling in her limbs, Koge weakly reached down between her legs, using her petite fingers to stroke along her cum stained pussy, pushing them inside her and spreading herself open. “C’mon, Katsuki… Don’t let it all drip out. I told you to breed me.”

“You think I’m done with you?” Grabbing her by the arms, Bakugou pulled her upper body back against his, one of his hands caressing her neck while he kissed her flushed cheek tenderly. “My pretty mate… I’ll make sure you’re bred properly.”

Smiling, Koge placed her hand on his cheek, guiding his lips down to hers. “Mm… you’d better. Now shove that big cock back inside me. And make sure to use your teeth this time. Don’t be gentle with me.”

“Only if you beg.”

#bnhabookclub #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou x oc #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #oc #original character #koge #bakugou x koge #bnha fanfiction #bnha writing blog #cutesuki-oc #bingo #cutesuki scenarios

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unclesamantha · 4 years

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my own, unprompted and not-asked-for thoughts on lyn-z way that i’ve been pondering and wanted to share (it’s a long one, i wish I could remember how to do “read mores” on here lol):

I’m posting this from a side blog I’ve had hoarded for awhile, because I’m honestly kind of scared of what might transpire. With that said, I’ve been a lyn-z way fan for over 13 years. When I was going through high school, I obsessively watched her tasteit.tv interview and bought her “Don’t Call Me Mrs. Gerard Way” article off eBay, and really appreciated her story because I could wholeheartedly relate: I felt like a total misfit in my small-ish town, was extremely self-conscious and wanted to escape and make a name for myself. I loved (and still love!) her weird dark art, her expression through various mediums. Here on tumblr, back when I used to actually tag and organize stuff on my main blog, she was probably the third most tagged topic on my blog. I even assisted with some posts on the lynz style blog. I remember her tweeting about herself being half Indian and was so amazed, she offered representation to a group of people who rarely show up in pop culture, especially not rock n roll (the only other one I can think of is the bassist from No Doubt). She was a champion of women in rock and the arts, and was so kind to her fans after shows and on Twitter. Her story about achieving all her goals and finding true love and wealth in spite of her reported hardships gave a lot of us something to aspire to. With all that said, all of what’s being said right now about her has really made me start thinking critically about who I choose as my heroes. I remember when the “lynzuglyliar” blog first popped up in maybe 2012-2013, I was like “uhhh yeah ok” because she got a lot of hate for being married to her husband, so it was easy to write it off as a hate blog. The blog name also didn’t help (sorry!). But this year, with her family coming out and confirming pretty much everything that blog said for ages, I had to start reconsidering. Is her family capable of lying? Of course. But LynZ has used her platform to pretty much slander them for over a decade, while they struggle not only in real life financially, but also to have their voice heard. Them speaking up really broke my heart - they’re trying their best to get by in life, but keep getting knocked down by a famous family member who’s husband (and by default and marriage law, herself) is worth $10-20 million while they live in a very rough area (out $40K after LynZ dropped out of a very expensive school) and her legion of fans. LynZ’s disregard for the well documented instances of jimmy kissing underage fans was a bit unnerving. Yes, she said to believe victims, but went on to insinuate that it was all Jessicka’s doing, and kind of made it about herself. The reason why people are reaching out her about it is because she has the largest platform of anyone in MSI, and unfortunately she bares some responsibility in righting a wrong that her gross band mate thought was ok.

I have a lot of thoughts on how I feel about this whole situation; it’s mostly disappointment on my heroes part, and frustration at fellow LynZ fans who just outright refuse to acknowledge her kinda disgusting actions. When multiple friends and family members all corroborate the same things, and share their own stories of betrayal and bullying, who am I - a fan who has only been witness to a projected image of LynZ’s best self and a story she conconted for herself for almost 20 years - to say they’re lying or they’re “haters”? For me, it would be extremely entitled and delusional to tell these people “hey cool story, but this is what LynZ said so shut up.” I have to listen to their stories, and acknowledge a pattern.

Long story short, LynZ was part of my coming of age, my awkward and insecure teenage years. She inspired me to pursue art and follow my dreams. I also don’t even find fault with her getting into MSI without bass talent - they’re a performance based band, and I also don’t really believe she doesn’t play on the records or live, as she’s played bass for 15-20 years so she’s definitely learned how to play effectively in that time. But I can’t defend her actions and aid in silencing the people she’s hurt. Sorry this was a really long post, I just had a lot of thoughts on someone I considered my greatest hero for so long. I tried my best not to come off as spiteful, because I’m not sure if I can say I hate her, for the reasons I just stated. There’s this notion that “women don’t owe you anything” - which is true, when it comes to unwanted advances and gross shit like that. But when it comes to decades of playing in a band that used slurs and racist/pedophilic imagery for “shock” value, as well as a lot of extremely questionable behavior and misleading fans, I just hope that one day she can come forward and take some accountability, no matter how scary it will be.

#lindsey way #lynz way #lynz #msi #mindless self indulgence

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allsassnoclass · 3 years

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maybe I wrote an off-screen epilogue scene. maybe I didn’t. click the keep reading button to find out

warnings for mentions of weed and a mention of meds

December 26th dawns slowly over the mountains of Colorado, the sun creeping over the landscape like molasses, and Luke wakes up in the same way. He stays in the murky space between dreams and waking for a long time, floating through his subconscious until Ashton’s gentle fingers trailing up and down his arm finally pull him back to earth and wakefulness.

“Hey there, angel,” Ashton says, shifting to kiss his bare shoulder. “Good morning, my love.”

“Morning,” Luke hums, turning on to his back so he can see him. This bed is smaller than the one at their LA house, pushing them closer together and reminding Luke of the months in Utah back when they first got together and earlier this year, when Luke stayed with him for most of fall semester.

Ashton smiles at him, hazel eyes crinkling around the edges.

“Waking up to you is the best way to wake up,” Luke says, voice scratchy from disuse. It’s something he’s told Ashton multiple times, but it always bears repeating, and it never fails to make Ashton melt a little. He reaches forward and brushes Luke’s hair out of his face, hand curling against his cheek. Luke leans forward and kisses him, warm and slow, stubble scratching his face and mouths stale with morning breath. Ashton hums contentedly when they pull away, eyes staying closed half a moment longer than Luke’s.

“What time is it?” Luke asks.

“Mid-morning,” Ashton replies.

“Petunia?”

“Already took her out and gave her breakfast.”

“I love you,” Luke says. Ashton can claim to dislike Petunia all he wants, but that doesn’t change the fact that over the course of quarantine he has been the one giving her more treats and belly rubs. His willingness to get up with her in the morning means Luke is free to stay in bed as long as he wants, and since Ashton returned he can keep him here, too.

“What do you want to do today?” Ashton asks.

“Be with you,” Luke says. That was partially why they decided to come to Colorado for Christmas. Ashton wanted a little bit of snow and Luke wanted to spend uninterrupted time with him. When spring semester starts, Ashton will be heading back to Utah alone. Luke has been writing and recording a lot of smaller projects in his home studio that will likely never see the light of day, but beginning in January the band is going to have recording time together again. He’s needed with them, so he and Ashton will be long-distance until the semester ends since the university isn’t having a spring break and they won’t be traveling more than necessary in the pandemic.

“You don’t have a choice out here,” Ashton says. “The cabin isn’t that big, my heart.”

“Good,” Luke says, hand sliding down Ashton’s waist. His pet names have been getting increasingly diverse throughout quarantine, and each one still manages to give Luke heart palpitations, even the weird ones like thunder cat and lemon zest.

He leans forward to kiss him again, shifting easily when Ashton tugs to guide him on top, thighs bracketing Ashton’s waist. Ashton moves his palms to rest heavily on his legs, and when Luke leans back he’s met with the sight of his black hair messy against the white pillow, a ray of sun illuminating his face and making him glow.

He runs his knuckles along the scruffy beginnings of a beard Ashton has been letting himself grow since classes ended. It’s prickly, but Ashton doesn’t stop him, just watches with a smile.

“You’re so handsome, Ash,” he says. The eclectic mountain man vibe he’s been leaning into shouldn’t work, but somehow Luke looks at him and is still as enamoured as he was with the adorable boy he didn’t realize he loved and the beautiful man he married.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Ashton says. Luke moves his hands to the smooth planes of his chest, keeping himself propped up.

“I think that’s your expertise,” he says, reminded of the hundreds of photographs stored on Ashton’s phone or various sim cards around the house, all filled with Luke in various moods, positions, styles, and states of dress. One of Ashton’s goals for their summer together was to bring his photography skills up to par with his painting, and with lockdown Luke was the only convenient subject.

They have some pictures that they’ll never show anyone, and there are a few that Luke has considered showing the world. Needless to say, Ashton is his favorite photographer.

“I wish I had my camera now,” Ashton says. “Every inch of you is exquisite, and with the way you’re backlit by the sun you look ethereal. If I could capture the expression on your face I would never take another picture again, because none of them would compare.”

He doesn’t yet have the words to respond to that, so he leans down and kisses Ashton again, and again, and again.

-/-

After wasting the entire morning together under the covers and grabbing something quick to eat, Luke and Ashton go for a walk. It’s not cold enough to be unpleasant, and the cabin has woods to one side with paths stomped down throughout. They soon lose sight of the house behind them. Luke hopes they’ll be able to find their way back when the time comes, but if they get lost at least they’ll be together.

“This year was a lot better than it should have been,” Ashton says.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a global pandemic going on. There have been thousands of needless deaths, cancelled plans, and teaching was significantly harder and less fun, but I think this year was my happiest year since I can remember. I feel really good about my art. I feel like I’m more aware of the world around me. I’ve stopped feeling as self-conscious. I finally got put on meds that work, and I’m actively enjoying my life.”

“You smoked a lot of weed.”

Ashton laughs.

“Yeah, I smoked a lot of weed, but I kept it professional at school.”

“Some of your students’ works would’ve been even better if you were high while seeing them for the first time.”

“Luke,” Ashton admonishes. “I’m not trying to get fired. I need the administration for reference letters since I’m job searching near LA now.”

Luke stops walking, letting Ashton carry on without him for a few steps.

“You’re job searching?”

“I am.” He backtracks, meeting Luke where he is and taking his hands. “Luke, I’m not stupid. I know that the reason this year didn’t suck was because it was the first year I got to fully spend with you. You are the love of my life, and I don’t want to try living my life without you for eight months of the year anymore. When you’re not traveling around the world dazzling people with your talent, I want to be with you at home. I love teaching, and I’m going to keep trying to do that, but after this semester I’m moving to LA permanently whether I have something else lined up or not.”

“Oh,” Luke says. “I thought you loved Utah. You have friends there, and students. Are you sure you want to leave that?”

This past semester, Luke was able to fully witness Ashton as a teacher. When he wasn’t on campus, Luke got full exposure to his joys and frustrations. He sympathized with him over administrative decisions and safety protocols and got to see pictures and video tours of the art submissions that Ashton wasn’t able to see in person.

He gave Daisy an encouraging voice note for finals, because she’s been struggling with trying to complete her senior project given the circumstances and Ashton asked him to since she’s his favorite.

“I have friends here, too, and there will be other students,” Ashton says. “Even if that wasn’t the case, being with you would be worth it.”

Luke’s heart feels full to bursting.

“Really?” he asks, needing one more confirmation that his dream is going to come true before he lets himself believe it.

“Yes, my sweet. I’m moving to LA with you for as long as you make that city your home.”

Luke kisses him because the other option is to start crying, something which he doesn’t want to do when they’re out in the cold.

“I think this was one of my best years, too,” Luke confesses.

He came out and then almost immediately deleted his social media from his phone. He’s learned more about what it means to be a good ally. He’s grown as a songwriter, stretching himself with different genres and working on his piano skills more, writing dozens of love songs for Ashton and silly ones for Petunia, bad ones, good ones, and amazing ones for himself and for the band. He figured out what it really means to be a husband, sharing his life with Ashton and able to physically be there for the bad days they both had and celebrate the joyful ones.

Things haven’t been perfect by any means. They had to postpone the tour, they can’t see anyone, and it often feels like the world is on fire. Still, though, he’s had Ashton.

Through all of this, he’s had Ashton, and after this semester he’ll always have him with him.

“You’ve been glowing,” Ashton says. “I’m glad I got to experience it with you.”

“Me too,” Luke says. “I love you.”

Ashton kisses his nose.

“I love you, too.”

They continue their walk hand in hand, enjoying the fresh air. Ashton points out signs that animals had been there and Luke ensures that he doesn’t run into any trees while he’s not paying attention to where he’s walking. The path turns out to be a big loop, and soon they can see other cabins again and then their own back door.

“Wait,” Ashton says before they go inside. “I want to jump in the snow. Film it for my instagram.”

Ashton has a professional artist social media, but he also has a private instagram that he posts on frequently. Luke has gotten very used to snapping pictures or videos for him, always endeared by which pieces of his life Ashton wants to share with the rest of the world.

Ashton takes off his coat for the video and faceplants with a kerplunk. As soon as he’s done filming, Luke is laughing.

“That was fun,” Ashton says when he hands his phone back to him. “Want to make snow angels?”

“No, Ash, I want to go inside,” Luke says. He gets no warning before Ashton has arms around his waist, tackling him down into the snow and making Luke shriek.

“You’re so lucky I love you,” Luke laughs, poking Ashton’s pink nose with his glove. Ashton beams above him.

“Can we go inside now?” Luke asks. Ashton hums, then snaps a picture with his phone.

“Now we can,” he says, getting up and offering Luke a hand. Luke lets Ashton haul him up, then they finally enter the cabin again, stomping snow off their boots and brushing it from their coats.

They don’t have any plans for the rest of the day, or the rest of their stay in Colorado in general, but Luke couldn’t care less about what they’re going to do. He gets to spend the rest of the holiday with Ashton, and then the rest of his life with him. Soon they’ll be permanently in the same house again, and he couldn’t be happier.

If Ashton managed to transform an awful year into a good one, Luke can’t wait to experience all of the amazing years ahead with him right by his side where he belongs.

#my writing #lashton #off-screen #how wild would it have been if I put a rick roll under there instead #would I have lost followers for that #okay now you Actually get a break from me.#going to not post writing for a week (but I am going to work on some inbox prompts)#can ya'll believe I still only have 285 words of the off screen prequel written and I don't even like them????#also! for your own thinking enjoyment: how much of ashton's quarantine chaos energy would still exist if he had to be a professor #like how wild is off-screen December 26 2020 ashton? who knows #I think he is slightly less wild than actual current Ashton but Not By Much #ashton's always been a goofy dude it's just manifesting differently right now #off screen

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bellakitse · 4 years

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Let's Start with Breakfast

“Hi, you must be TK,” he says, turning around to face him fully, and TK doesn’t know where to look – that beautiful face with a head full of curls he wants to sink his hands into, or the perfectly chiseled chest that reminds TK of studying about Michelangelo’s David in his art studies course. “I’m Carlos.”

TK wakes up in his friend's apartment and meets his new roommate, Carlos.

30 days of Tarlos - Day 8

TK wakes up with a serious crick in his neck and a post-it note on his forehead. The pain he understands, that’s what he gets for sleeping on his friend Paul’s couch instead of just going back to his apartment the night before. The note is the same friend being a jerk. He sits up with a groan; it’s not just his neck that hurts but his back too from the less than comfortable couch. Pulling the note off his forehead, he squints at Paul’s chicken scratch.

Had to go to class, mopey, there are coffee and bagels in the kitchen. Stay as long as you want, but don’t bother my new roommate.

TK rolls his eyes at the nickname his friend has given him. Last night while he and Paul were out, they’d run into his ex with the guy he’d cheated on him with; if that wasn’t a reason to be a little depressed, TK didn’t know what was.

TK gets up, heading for the bathroom first. He steps lightly, trying not to wake up Paul’s new mysterious roommate. From what Paul told him, the guy is in the Police Academy and keeps odd hours. He only moved into Paul’s spare bedroom three weeks ago and TK – while nursing a broken heart for almost two months now since he caught his ex in the arms of another man – hasn’t had a chance to meet the guy yet.

He takes his time washing his face, brushing his teeth with one of the spare toothbrushes Paul likes to keep under the sink. When he’s done, he exits the bathroom and heads for the kitchen, stopping short when he hears a sound coming from inside. He hesitates for a moment, he’s probably not at his best to meet Paul’s roommate, but he can already smell the coffee he’s brewing, and TK desperately needs a cup.

Running a hand through his hair and then down his shirt in hopes to smooth some of the wrinkles, he takes a breath before stepping into the small cream-colored kitchen.

The man inside the kitchen is tall, muscled and shirtless, TK takes in all the beautiful exposed skin as he looks at the back facing him. He has defined shoulders and arms; his back tapers down in a V-shape to a spectacular ass, clothed in black slim-fitted joggers that makes TK drool. He doesn’t consider himself a shallow guy, but TK knows a beautiful man when he sees one, and even with just having seen his back, TK knows Paul’s roommate is gorgeous, something his friend failed to mention when telling him about the guy.

“Um – “ he starts hesitantly. “Good morning?”

The guy turns around, the half-smile on his face makes TK’s breath halt in his lungs. If TK thought the guy was beautiful from behind, it’s nothing compared to seeing his face. He’s stunning with deep brown eyes that look warm, a full-mouth that curves upward a little more, friendly and inviting, and a jawline that could cut glass.

“Hi,” he says again, and not much else, his mouth has gone dry, and he feels tongue-tied. He’s never had such an immediate reaction to someone like this before, and he feels a little lost as his heart races and his palms sweat.

“Would you like some coffee?” Carlos asks him, that pleasant smile still on his face. TK tells himself to snap out of it before Carlos goes from friendly to uncomfortable, just because he’s having a hard time handling the effect Carlos is having on him.

“Yes, please,” he says, taking a step forward when Carlos holds out a cup for him. “Thanks,” he smiles, taking the mug, his fingers brushing against Carlos’. He’s sure he just imagines the spark of electricity that runs between them, but then he sees the way Carlos’ eyes widen, his gaze on their hands and wonders.

“Yeah – “ Carlos says softly, his brown eyes finding his. “No problem.”

TK gives him a closed-mouth smile, not sure what to say with the sudden tension in the room. It’s not awkward; it’s more like awareness of the other.

“Do you feel like breakfast?” Carlos asks, waving his hand at the stove where he has a skillet ready to go. “I could make you an omelet. Do you like veggie?”

“Oh – ” TK starts, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble; I should probably get out of your hair and out of your apartment.”

“It’s no trouble,” Carlos answers quickly. “I was going to make one for myself anyway; it’s pretty easy to add a couple of extra eggs.”

TK hesitates, and Carlos gives him a captivating smile that gives TK butterflies like he hasn’t felt since he was fourteen and kissed his first boy.

“I’m a really good cook,” Carlos promises, his grin boyish and sweet, it makes TK smile back.

“Better than Paul?” he teases, chuckling when Carlos scoffs.

“Strickland wishes he could be as amazing in the kitchen as I am,” Carlos boasts, and TK raises his eyebrow at that.

“Paul is a great cook,” he says, doubtful of the man in front of him and his culinary prowess, when he’s tasted his friend’s cooking.

“I’m better,” Carlos assures him once more with a smirk, a little cocky and maybe even a little flirty.

TK grins, charmed by Carlos’ confidence. “Well, then I guess I have to stick around and have some of this spectacular cooking.”

Carlos grins at him pleased, he turns towards the refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients he needs to get started. TK leans back against one of the counters, sipping his coffee as Carlos moves around the kitchen with ease, just like Paul usually does. He presumes it comes with the sureness of someone who knows what they’re doing.

TK can barely boil water; he tells Carlos this, earning himself a laugh.

“I’m sure you’re not that bad,” he says, throwing him an amused look over his shoulder.

“Oh, I am,” TK says with a self-deprecating laugh of his own. “My father is a fire captain; he has made me swear not to cook without a fire extinguisher and adult supervision.

Carlos laughs again as he pours the egg mixture on the hot skillet, he turns back to TK, leaning against the opposite side counter with his arms crossed. TK swallows hard at the way it makes his arms bulge.

“How are you, by the way?” he asks gently, and TK pulls his gaze from the pretty muscles to look up at his even prettier face full of concern, it lets TK instantly know that his buddy Paul has been talking about him with his roommate.

“I take it, you know?” he asks, the sheepish look on Carlos’ face confirmation enough.

“Paul wasn’t gossiping,” Carlos says softly. “I asked about you, and he told me you were going through a bad break-up.”

“Why did you ask him about me?” he asks, not upset but curious, especially when Carlos’ cheeks go pink.

“I – uh,” he starts, letting out a self-conscious laugh. “I saw you a few weeks ago at the coffee shop on Elm with Paul; you were wearing a yellow hoodie.”

“And that’s why you asked about me?” he asks again a little confused, his heart though ticks upward when Carlos gives him a penetrating look.

“I asked about you because you’re beautiful,” he says softly. “In that hoodie, you were the most adorable thing I have ever seen, and I wanted to know you.”

TK’s breath catches at Carlos’ candidness.

He turns back to the omelet, flipping it over once. “But Paul told me you had just broken up with your boyfriend,” he says, looking at him with sympathy. “And that it wasn’t pretty, so I didn’t push for an introduction.”

He watches as Carlos moves around, getting out some pre-cut fruit from the fridge, placing it on the two plates with the eggs and a piece of toast. Holding both plates, he points towards the living room. TK follows him back to the couch he slept on, speaking once they’re both seated with their food.

“I walked in on him with another guy,” he says quietly, looking down at the nice plate of food, it looks and smells really good, he only looks up at Carlos when he hears him swear.

“He’s a fucking idiot, TK,” Carlos says sternly. “I don’t even know him, and yet I know he’s the stupidest fucker on the planet to have you and then cheat.”

TK’s lips quirk upward at the conviction in Carlos’ voice. “Agreed.”

Carlos’ eyes crinkle at the sides as he smiles. Smiling back, TK shakes his head softly before taking a bite of the omelet, he lets out a surprised sound at the burst of flavor, and looks back at Carlos only to find him already watching him.

“You still doubted my skills,” Carlos says with mock-sorrow. “Shameful.”

TK swallows around the delicious breakfast to let out a laugh; he can’t remember the last time he had this much fun over breakfast and a simple conversation.

“I promise never to doubt you again,” he swears, pleased when Carlos gives him a grin.

They eat the rest of their breakfast while getting to know each other. Carlos tells him about the police academy. TK tells him about his classes, and how he really wants to be a firefighter like his father, but promised he would get a degree before starting his training. When they’re done with their plates, Carlos takes them back into the kitchen while TK waits on the couch. He comes back after a bit, and TK has to swallow a disappointed sigh when he sees that Carlos has put on a shirt along the way back.

He watches him as he shifts for a moment, and TK starts to get up, realizing that he’s probably worn out his welcome, and it’s time to leave his friend’s apartment and his roommate’s kindness.

“So I should probably – “

“Do you want to hang out?” Carlos blurts out in a rush. “We could watch a movie?”

TK startles back while Carlos looks at him almost timid.

“I know you’re probably not ready to date or anything,” he continues quickly. “And that’s cool with me, but maybe we can get to know each other?”

“Carlos – “ he says softly, his heart squeezing with affection for the sweet man in front of him. He’s beautiful, but TK is quickly realizing that it’s not just outside beauty that Carlos possesses.

“I like you,” Carlos tells him, taking a step forward until he’s standing in front of him. “There is something about you that pulls me in, and it’s not just those beautiful green eyes of yours,” he smiles at him, and TK can’t help but smile back, his heart beating with excitement. “Though they are very pretty, TK.”

“Yours are pretty stunning too,” he whispers back, swallowing hard when Carlos touches his hand, he turns it to take Carlos’, interlocking their fingers.

“I want to know you,” Carlos continues, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. “I’m not saying I want to be a rebound, though there is the old Spanish saying un clavo saca otro clavo.”

TK gives him a curious look, not understanding the phrase.

“One nail drives out another nail,” Carlos explains. “Basically that the best way to get over a bad break-up is to find a new partner, but like I said I’m not interested in rebounding – “

TK lifts his other hand to touch Carlos’ cheek. “Carlos, I just met you, and I know you definitely wouldn’t be a rebound,” he tells him. The way he has reacted to Carlos all morning tells him that if he got together with him, he wouldn’t need to use him to soothe the ache inside, Carlos would eclipse any past and remaining feelings he might have for his EX. “You’d be so much more.”

Carlos lets out a soft exhale at his words. “So what do you say?” he asks, his face hopeful. “Movie? Get to know each other?”

TK smiles at him, his heart pounding hard under his ribcage with anticipation.

“A date when you’re ready?” he continues, a teasing smile on his face. “Maybe even a kiss at the end of the night if I’m really, really lucky?”

TK lets out a laugh, feeling happy in a way he hasn't for the longest. On impulse, he leans up, covering the small difference in their heights to brush his lips against Carlos in the lightest of kisses.

“I’d like that,” he whispers, proud of the stunned look on Carlos’ face. “Movies, getting to know each other, dating, more kisses, I’d like all of it.”

#911 lone star #tarlos fic #tarlos #911 lone star fic #30 days of tarlos #tk x carlos #my writing

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lesbeet · 4 years

Text

not to be a nerd but i accidentally just wrote a whole impromptu essay about editing ndjsdksksk im throwing it under a cut bc it's fucking inane and really long but honestly... i just want other people to become as passionate about editing as i am lmaooooo

i also recommend 2 books in the post so if anything at least check those out!

quality books about editing... *chef's kiss* a lot of the basic ones (including blog posts online n such) are geared towards beginners and end up repeating the same info/advice, much of it either oversimplified or misrepresented tbh. but i read one yesterday and i'm reading another one right now that really convey this passion for editing + consideration for it as its own sort of art and i just!!

it's such a weird thing to be passionate about lmao but i AM and i've spent a lot of time the past year or so consciously honing my craft (ik i mention this like 4 times a week i'm just really proud of how much i've learned and improved) and kind of like. solidifying my instincts into conscious choices i guess?

and these GOOD editing books have both a) taught me new information and/or presented familiar information through a new perspective that helped me understand something differently or in more depth, and b) validated or even just put into words certain preferences or techniques that i've developed on my own, that i don't normally see on those more basic lists i mentioned

btw the book i finished yesterday is self-editing for fiction writers: how to edit yourself into print by renni brown and dave king, and the one i'm reading currently is the artful edit: on the practice of editing yourself by susan bell.

the former was pretty sharp and straightforward. the authors demonstrated some of their points directly in the text, which was usually funny enough that i would show certain quotes to my sister without context

("Just think about how much power a single obscenity can have if it’s the only one in the whole fucking book." <- (it was)

"Frequent italics have come to signal weak writing. So you should never resort to them unless they are the only practical choice, as with the kind of self-conscious internal dialogue shown above or an occasional emphasis."

or, my favorite: "There are a few stylistic devices that are so “tacky” they should be used very sparingly, if at all. First on the list is emphasis quotes, as in the quotes around the word “tacky” in the preceding sentence. The only time you need to use them is to show you are referring to the word itself, as in the quotes around the word “tacky” in the preceding sentence. Read it again; it all makes sense.")

and like i said, i also learned some new ideas or techniques (or they articulated vague ideas i already had but struggled to put into practice), AND they mentioned some suggestions that ive literally never seen anyone else bring up (not to say no one has! just that ive never seen it, and ive seen a lot in terms of writing tips, advice, best practices, etc) that ive already sort of established in my own writing

for example they went into pretty fine detail about dialogue mechanics, more than i usually see, and in talking about the pacing and proportion of "beats" and dialogue in a given scene, they explicitly suggested that, if a character speaks more than a sentence or two and you plan on giving them some sort of dialogue tag or an action to perform as a beat, the tag or action should be placed at one of the earliest (if not the first) natural pauses in the dialogue, so as not to distance the character too far from the dialogue -- bc otherwise the reader ends up getting all of the dialogue information first, and then has to go back and retroactively insert the character, or what they're doing, or the way they look/sound while they're giving their little speech

and like this was something ive figured out on my own, mostly bc it jarred me out of something i was reading enough times (probably in fic tbh) that i started noticing it, and realized that it's something i do naturally, kind of to anchor the character to the dialogue mechanic to make sure it makes sense with the actual dialogue

so like. ok here's an example i just randomly pulled from the song of achilles (it was available on scribd so i just looked for a spot that worked to illustrate my point djsmsks)

the actual quote is written effectively, but here's a less effective version first:

“Perhaps I would, but I see no reason to kill him. He’s done nothing to me," Achilles answered coolly.

see and even with such a short snippet it's so much smoother and more vivid just by moving the dialogue tag, not adding or cutting a word:

“Perhaps I would, but I see no reason to kill him.” Achilles answered coolly. “He’s done nothing to me.”

the rhythm of it is better, and the beat that the dialogue tag creates functions as a natural dramatic pause before achilles delivers an incredibly poignant line, both within the immediate context of the scene and because we as the readers can recognize it as foreshadowing. plus, it flows smoothly because that beat was inserted where the dialogue already contained a natural pause, just bc that's how people speak. if you read both versions aloud, they both make sense, but the second version (the original used in the novel) accounts for the rhythm of dialogue, the way people tend to process information as they read, AND the greater context of the story, and as a result packs significantly more purpose, information, and effect into the same exact set of words

and THAT, folks, is the kind of editing minutia i can literally sit and hyperfocus on for hours without noticing. anyway it's a good book lmao

the one i'm reading now is a lot more about the cognitive process/es of editing, so there's less concrete and specific advice (so far, anyway) and more discussion about different mental approaches to editing, as well as tips and tools for making a firm distinction between your writer brain and your editor brain, which is something i struggle with

but there have been so many good quotes that ive highlighted! a lot of just like. reminders and things to think about, and also just lovely articulations of things id thought of or come to understand in much more vague ways.

scribd won't let me copy/paste this one bc it's a document copy and not an actual ebook, but this passage is talking about how the simple act of showing a piece of writing to someone else for the very first time can spark a sudden shift in perspective on the work, bc you'll (or at least i) frantically try to re-read it through their eyes and end up noticing a bunch of new errors -

or she talked about the perils of constant re-reading in the middle of writing a draft, which is something i struggle with a LOT, both bc i'm a perfectionist and bc i prefer editing to writing so i sit and edit when i'm procrastinating doing the actual hard work of writing lmao

it's just this side of fake deep tbh but i so rarely see editing discussed like this--as a mixture of art and science, a collaboration between instinct and technique, that really requires "both sides of the brain" to be done well.

and because of the way my own brain works, activities that require such a balanced concentration of creativity and logic really appeal to me. even though ive seen a lot of people (even professional writers) who frame it as the creative art of writing vs the logical discipline of editing. but i think that's such a misleading way of thinking about it, because writing and editing both require creativity and logic -- just different kinds! (not to mention that the line between writing and editing, while mostly clear, can get a little blurry from up close)

but like...all stories have an inner logic to them, even if the writer hasn't explicitly or consciously planned it, and even if the logic is faulty in places in the first couple of drafts. when you're sitting and daydreaming about your story, especially if you're trying to figure out how to bridge the gap between two points or scenes (or, how to write a sequence of events that presents as a logical, inevitable progression of cause and effect), the voice in your head that evaluates an idea and decides to 1) go with it, 2) scrap it, 3) tweak it until it works, or 4) hold onto it in case you want it later? that's your logic! if an idea feels wrong, or like it just doesn't work, it's probably because some part of you is detecting a conflict between some part of the idea and the overall logic of your story. every decision you make as you write is formed by and checked against your own experiential logic, and also by the internal logic of your story, which is far less developed (or at least, one would hope), and therefore more prone to the occasional laspe

but while ive seen a number of articles that discuss the logic of writing, i don't see people gushing as much about the art of editing and it's such a shame

the inner editor is so often characterized as the responsible parent to the writer's carefree child, or a relentless critic of the writer's unselfconscious, unpolished drivel

and it's like... maybe you just hate thinking critically about your work! maybe you view it that way because you're imposing external standards too fiercely onto your writing, and it's sucked the joy out of shaping and sculpting your words until they sing. maybe you prefer to conceive of your writing as divine communication, the process of which must remain unencumbered by lessons learned through experience or the vulnerability of self-reflection, until the buzzkill inner editor shows up with all those "rules" and "conventions" that only matter if you're trying to get published

and like obviously the market doesn't dictate which conventions are worth following, but the majority of widely-agreed-upon writing standards, especially those aimed at beginners, (and most especially those regarding style, as opposed to story structure) have to do with the effectiveness and efficiency of prose, and, in addition to often serving as a shorthand for distinguishing an amateur from a pro, overall help to increase poignancy and clarity, which is crucial no matter the genre or type of writing. and even if you personally believe otherwise, it's better to understand the conventions so you can break them with real purpose.

so editing shouldn't be about trying to shove your pristine artistic masterpiece into a conventional mold, it should be about using the creative instincts of your ear and your logic and experience-based understanding of writing as a craft to hone your words until you've told your story as effectively as possible

thank u for coming to my ted talk ✌️

#long post //#editing #wref #sefa rambles

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anime-apparently · 4 years

Note

Hi dear ♡ can I have an Haikyuu male matchup please? I’m a Pisces, 155cm and an INFP-T. I'm pretty expressive and emotionally driven, so I'm a horrible liar and I blush far too easily - which is an embarassing combination with my appearance. Shortstack, baby face, dimples, botton-up nose, big dark eyes, messy curly brown hair. I'll never look like someone of age LOL. So uhm, crowds and people I don't know make me nervous and anxious. || 1/I-really-hope-not-too-many

I'm pretty stubborn though, so in spite of it, I tend to kick into gear on impulse so that then I'll have to deal with it anyway, I don't like feeling drawn back by my own fears. I'm kind and emphatetic by nature, if we're close I'm actually cheerful and carefree, but I can get pretty snarky and sarcastic. I'm WEAK for cuddles (that I don't know how to get without combusting) and ice cream. Just, any kind of ice cream. Anything I don'r know strikes my curiosity and needs to be tried out, || 2/??

-it's the reason why I wander off a lot even though I know my sense of direction sucks. I enjoy swimming, languages and arts in general (writing & sketches are my thing), but I'm not into any sport in particular (ACHM's limitating from that point of view). I get excited about anything though, and being self-conscious myself I always make a point to be super supportive and encouraging no matter what! So whatever you do, even if I don't know much about it, go for it! 💪 || 3/4-yEAH-I-DID-IT

And OMG, I'm done! This rurned out SO LONG and I'm so sorry! 🙈 Anyway, I just wanted to say I hope things are okay over there. We're on quarantine too here in Italy, so I know it's hard. Take care, okay? ♡ || 4/4

A/N: thanks for waiting and i'm sorry this took long to post. This was literally sitting in my notes waiting to be posted along with the others. I drowned in new animes, oh and here's some hearts because your message made me smile (/^-^)/💞💞. Take care of yourself too!

I match you with...

BOKUTO KOTARO

- you are a kawaii kouhai and is a classmate of Akaashi

- Akaashi knows you pretty well because you two share the love of Arts

- Bokuto just came barging in your life (literally)

- he just popped up and went barelling to hug Akaashi but Akaashi side-stepped and he ended up hugging you

- you melt into it with a bright red face

- "Oh! Hi! I'm Bokuto! Are you Akaashi's imouto?"

- you're just standing there and blushing because of the hugs and because of his back

- goshhhh that back tho, he hella thicc

- you became friends soon and you're brought to games as a support for Bokuto

- it didn't really take long for you two to become close friends

- honestly, cuddles (or hugs in general) with him are the best cause he's just so huggable

- like he smells nice and his arms wrapped around you are just too good

- i mean, have you seen his arms and back??? i would faint if he hugged me asdfghjkl

- he gets called out jokingly as a "hentai" or "loli-con" by his teammates upon seeing you cheer for him and interact with him as you look younger than you actually are

- you two are the most emotinal pair there is

- Bokuto loveesss seeing you blush, he think it's really adorable so he would find a way to make you blush (often surprising you with hugs)

- he loves introducing you to people and he knows about your anxiety so he turns really soft and calm when introducing you which confuses his teammates because "wth?? Bokuto can be calm??"

- he gets wounded when your snarky and sarcastic personality comes into play

- like he will sulk and turn into the small-eyed owl who looks pretty out of it and you bribe him with ice cream

- you two are both really adventurous

- there have been a lot of weird shit that happened with/because of you two and it gives Akaashi major headaches

- Bokuto is probably good with his sense of direction but would often wander around with you and get lost just for the sake of it

- he gets so energized in seeing you work and your works

- one time he saw a drawing of him mid jump for a spike and he just smothered you with affection

- he gets excited about almost anything too so you two get excited a lot that Akaashi feels like he's taking care of kids

- Bokuto's a ver ver supportive boyfriend and would destroy all your insecurities

- so Bokuto probably confessed to you with the help of Akaashi but the plan turned to dust anyways

- it was near white day and Bokuto wanted to do something special so Akaashi helps because honestly he ships it

- Bokuto made chocolate (be proud of baby owl uwu) and a heartfelt message but he got really nervous and blurted out that it was from Akaashi

- he ran away after that and Akaashi just sighed so deeply you got worried

- but upon reading the signed letter and seeing the chocolate (they were owl-shaped) you figured he was lying

- practice was interesting because Bokuto would normally be motivated with you around but he was so distracted

- you took it upon yourself (it was an impulse decision) to be the one to complete the confession

- you just went up and "Bo-kun, I like you too!" and with a kiss on the cheek you ran away

- after that you two became a sappy couple and cuddles have never been forgotten

- lots of ice cream dates and museum dates too

- you slowly adopt his "Hey, Hey, Hey!"

- you slowly got closer to the vb team too

- he would probably teach you volleyball just for fun but won't force you

- he takes it upon himself to try and learn new things that you like (he probably turned out to be such a van gogh fan)

- he's really caring and despite his mood swings, he's always happy with you

- like i see you and him as that adventurous couple who's very affectionate and cute and stuff like that uwu

- he really likes you and he's so soft for you so take care of him because he's a precious baby owl and he does the same because as he says "you're my precious baby owl"

#bokuto kotaro #bokuto x reader #fukurodani #akaashi keiji #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #one shot #match up #haikyuu x reader #requests

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spadesinglasses · 4 years

Text

Love Victor (series)

oooh new format for this post let’s get into itttt.

Below are my reaction per episode. I will be writing them as i finish each so its more clear and fresh and all that jazz.

Let’s see if tumblr posts has a word count limit.

lol wrong title earlier X_X

Note, the #glassthoughts tags is a reaction tag. Its never a review, or an intellectual essay about stuff I watch. I dont have the capacity to do all those.

Spoilers below so beware. Episode 1 is posted separately because I intend to make posts for the first and last epsiode only but that did not work out lol.

EPISODE 2

it took me a looong time to finish this episode. I kept on pausing it because something just feels so wrong about it. I didn’t know what it was when i was going through it, but when it finally ended it finally clicked.

The episode reminds me of the sentiment most homophobes use against gay people. “If you focus on the emotional part of the relationship, you will be happy with the opposite sex.” Growing up ive heard this phrase used against other people so much. Hearing it in my native language has always been a punch in the gut.

And now this show who is supposed to be something happy and nice, is just having this kind of phrase of mentality just well up there.

I’m sure that its not Victor’s and that he is just exploring his sexuality. But the usual tinge of homophobia whenever he talks that he might be like Simon is honestly grating.

It’s definitely a me issue because other people seem to be enjoying the series immensely, but whenever Victor gets into that headspace, I just hear my child self crying myself to sleep because of internal homophobia.

Also i can see why people say that for a show that is supposed be about Victor’s sexuality and growth, it does sure show a heck lot of heterosexuality of those who are around him.

Maybe in the future i will rewatch the series again with a more patient mind, but for now, expect me to skip a lot of scenes X_X

End

Episode 3

Okay the audacity of Victor saying “he tries” to be a good friend. Like dang okay chill with the lies. You’re already lying about your sexuality lmao.

Sorry im being very critical and bitter about this show, but i must persevere for the fanfics and fanarts i will gorge myself into later.

anywho reaction time!

Mia and Victor would’ve been cute if only Victor doesn’t sound like he keeps on enforcing this compulsory heterosexuality he has in mind. BUT hey he might be Bi people!

I keep censoring myself because of how bitter and hateful i sound. My apologies for the phrases i forgot to delete above and beyond this line xD.

Anyways im over anything about Andrew. He can go fuck his egotistical self. If the series will show

Hmm i wonder if the term “Comp Het” will even drop in this series.

Back to reaction,

Honestly Felix is just a lesbian in a man’s body at this point. Making his own shampoo? Like wow give me some of that kind of friend.

The number of times I rolled my eyes at Andrew is ridiculous.

Whilst typing this part it was more enforced in my mind that Love Victor is just a “supposedly gayer” Teen Wolf without the wolfing parts.

Lake is Lydia Felix is Stiles Andrew is a walmart Jackson Benji is basically a less grumpy Derek or Danny tbh Victor is Scott

I really hate this idea now.

The parents drama! Honestly, very unnecessary in my opinion. Victor is already dealing with a religious family, now he has to deal with a religious and broken family? Like dang they could’ve just chosen one struggle for him, now everyone will think his sexuality is a consequence for his parents’ sin or sth.

Maybe it’ll play into a bigger plot twist in the future?

Maybe Victor’s mom is cheating with Mia’s father? Seeing as how there was an unnecessary shot of her father with the back of a woman facing on the camera which is weird but okay.

Im theorizing now X_X

Anyways have y’all seen how poor Felix was so nervous because his goddamn friend isn’t there to supposedly help him?

Sorry im hating on Victor too much but this scene reminds me of how awful Simon’s friends are and like bruuuh is Felix supposed to be the lead character?

He really is like Stiles who is supposed to be the lead for Teen Wolf in my opinion, he’s just a much better written character that Sc/tt

lmao sorry my issues with other series is bleeding into this one X_X

End

Episode 4

Not much to say without getting too salty so moving onnn.

End

Episode 5

This series is just showing all the fear and pain i went through and am going through back when I was a teenager and til now. Without getting into any personal stuff, that last bs Victor’s father spewed just hit me so much.

I guess one of the reasons why its hard for me to watch Love Victor is because it shows me the teenager side of me way back when. Minus the girlfriend one because i never really persevered that much to tamper any likes for men. Internal homophobia really hit me back then tho xD

End

Episode 6

This episode is a mess and I hate it.

We saw yet again Victor literally using Felix’s ignorance and naivety to get himself out of a situation he put himself into.

AND Felix even got the wrong idea or got fed with the wrong idea that the reason why Victor brought him along is to act as a buffer because he wasn’t ready to give up being a virgin or have sex in general. Yep that is definitely the reason, no other reason at all that involves making latte art with a known barista.

Lake and Felix kissed so there was that. I still am shipping Victor and Felix together despite Victor’s continuous bs with him being a good friend, but that’s just me.

And totally knew Andrew and Mia got a thing. If this blew up and hurt Lake im suing.

Lake and Felix are literally the two people keeping this show intact. Not gonna drop some political statement here no sir.

Again Benji needs to grow a personality out of this whole barista thing. One thing i am grateful for this show is that there was no family drama at all!

I think.

End

Episode 7

UGHHH MISS ME WITH THAT NORMAL TALK.

Ive been making a conscious effort to stop saying that heterosexuality is normal. That shit is hard to unlearn because its what ive always heard in my asian household for yeaaaaaaars. And now this twink is just gonna throw the term around like he has no issues with it. TO SIMON EVEN.

Like brooooooh. Im over my 2010 internal homophobia, no need to dig it all up again. Every episode.

Aww the dancing in different clothes is cute but,

FUCKING VICTOR LIED JUST FOR WHAT?

Homeboy be doing the most to keep his fucking sexuality from bursting out, with his foot both planted firmly inside the closer AND THEN THE NEXT SECOND would end up as if he is ready to risk it all just to see Benji naked.

I AM FUCKING livid, confused, and just intense emotion everywhere.

Ive seen a couple of dumbo scenes from other shows that got the “closeted” man be doing literally the most obvious shit that could make anyone catch them, BUT THIS, with how VEHEMENT Victor is against being “NOT NORMAL” AND THEN LIE JUST TO STAY IN A MOTEL WITH THE GLORIFIED HOT GUY, takes the goddamn cake.

The fucking hypocrisy man. Ive battled internal homophobia before, AND ACKNOWLEDGE THAT WE ALL DEAL WITH IT DIFFERENTLY but holy fucksticks. I’m not this evil.

The thing is, there is so much a person could do that you could go “ah its because they are in the closet and is afraid to come out” before it goes to the territory of “fucking hell, this is not just about his sexuality, this is just him now doing stuff consciously to take advantage of his supposed fear”. The girlfriend thing is even waaay over the top, but we all went with it because he’s supposed to be figuring things out. BUT most of the time, he literally could not even imagine going beyond the line HE CREATED for their relationship. AND YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT HE WILL LIE JUST TO SPEND THE NIGHT WITH A GUY? Now he wants to test the male side of his sexuality? BECAUSE PORN DOESN’T EXIST? BECAUSE LOOKING AT MALE UNDERWEAR MODELS IN THE UNDERWEAR SECTION IS NOT ENOUGH? HE NEEDS IT TO BE ACTUALLY PHYSICAL TO CONFIRM SOMETHING?

Im ahead too much, real time the scene im in the episode is still them about to leave the shop but holy fucking hell. If this lie ended up becoming something more in this same episode, expect more capslock because jfc.

And people will still claim he’s somewhat attracted to the other gender.

AND SOMETHING DID HAPPENED. ANDREW AND MIA KISSED

FUCKIN VICTOR

Also i was very very worried that Pilar and Felix will be a thing BUT THANK GOD THAT DIDN’T BECOME A THING. Still unsure whether i like Lake and Felix together, but i love them individually.

I cant really comment on any of the parents drama because to be honest i skip them whenever its just her and him.

These two fuckers lie to one another. BECAUSE OF WHAT? THEY WANT TO FUCKIN STICK THEIR TONGUES INTO ONE ANOTHERS MOUTH? IS THIS REALLY WHERE THIS SHOW IS GOING? AND THEY ALMOST CENSORED IT BECAUSE ITS GAY? NOT THE OTHER HORRIBLE STUFF THAT IS HAPPENING?

Im tired.

But i hafta finish the show for fanarts and fanfics.

okay Benji has a legitimate reason for lying. I’ll take that.

See people you see me live writing this whole rant thing :D.

BOY TOOK MONTHS KISSING MIA FOR MIA TO ONLY SAY THEIR TONGUES GRAZE SOMETIMES.

bUT THE SAME GUY JUST WENT LAPLAPAN TO THE MAX WITH BENJI THE ONE NIGHT THEY SPENT TOGETHER?

REALLY PEOPLE? REALLY?

Huh I wonder back when I was his age, would I also just kiss the first gay guy i became comfortable with? Despite being so into the closet and battling internal homophobia via punching the walls?

Dang that monologue tho. We as non het doesn’t want our lives to be hard. But at this point, i stopped blaiming my own sexuality and just started blaming heterosexuals for making the world this fucking horrible for us. That’s when my internal homophobia SLOWLY lessen. It’s still there but hey at least every crosshair is not on me.

Okay i get people saying that Simon is irresponsible for making Victor like put his family on the back burner for a bit etc etc. Also the reaction against Benji getting mad when Victor wanted them to stop being gay while in their house, is reasonable. Victor did calmly told Benji and his beau that his family is stretched thin etc etc. I get that. I get that sometimes hiding your sexuality for other people is what is necessary.

BUT fucking please recognize how damaging that is to the person you are talking to. Even if you think Victor is in the 100% right about this, AT THE VERY LEAST acknowledge why Benji is mad. Sure he could’ve just left with his boyfriend instead of just staying there. And sure Victor pulled through in the end and put that dusty grandpa motherfucker to his place, but that’ll fucking sting okay.

Also i might be saying all this in a place where I’m not really that close to ANY of my relatives, so ya know, call me ignorant or ungrateful whatever.

END

Episode 8

Okay uhh Mia and Andrew is still a thing APPARENTLY.

AWW BRAM IS CUTE

Lol Simon’s “Yay boobs” like please Victor keep the heterosexual drama out of this chatroom lmao.

Also Felix group texting the others is hilarioussss.

If Victor touches or says one bad thing at Bram? its on sight.

Also Im not sure what to feel with Mia getting jealous at Andrew. Like girl you were the one who said he’s nothing, and now this? Issa bad look honey.

Victor is embarassing. Are all extroverts just this i dunno peppy?

You know what makes me happy in this episode? Keiynan’s attitude bleeding out to Bram’s character. I love it!

Goddd Keiynan is so hot XD

hahahaha this episode is lighter thank god.

“why would they want to help a complete stranger” because they are good people and surprisingly they still exist!

Ohhh So it seems like Nick Robinson filmed his scenes for this episode on a different day. Ive never seen him be with the main group. That’s weird.

END

Episode 9

Benji distancing himself because he wants to make his 1 year relationship work? Good guy! Him not saying to his boyfriend about the coworker of his kissing him? Bad move.

Sure we can all talk about how little stuff doesn’t need to be told to your lover if you’re sure its not gonna happen again. The thing is, communication is key. Y’all will talk about communication being integral in a relationship but keep shit like this in the DL because yOU’RE JUST THAT SURE IT AINT GONNA HAPPEN AGAIN? Fo real?

Also Benji is feeling guilty for a reason.

Vincent is very in the wrong for kissing a taken man just because said taken man is comfortable with him or showed vulnerability. Victor is in the wrong 100% and I’ll never forget that.

Felix and that hug with Victor is adorableeee. Love that coming out scene. Again raising my eyebrows at those who say Victor is Bi.

Felix showing what’s in his apartment is fucking great. No wonder we don’t see his mom or anything. They say that the saddest people are always the one who will do their best to keep everyone happy. Felix is being peppy, have these random phrases he use to just amuse people makes sense.

In this household, we protect Felix no matter what. HOPEFULLY next season we get to fucking know his surname or sth.

Again nothing new with the drama surrounding the parents. I hate them and honestly i am so annoyed by the father’s face and everything. (still have that hatred from One day at time but we don’t talk about that here)

The letter is stupid and i wonder what Pilar will do about it. Are we gonna get a To All the boys i loved before thing?

OH Felix giving Lake an ultimatum. Wow what a move honestly. On one hand Felix has the right to protect himself. He wants to be free with who he loves, and keeping it a secret stopped being amusing because he knew what it feels like to hide a part of yourself.

Lake’s confidence has been obviously shot and damaged by her mother. Not saying that justifies what she is doing BUT it came from somewhere. A night with Felix talking to her about his life IS NOT going to just uproot all those thoughts from her mind. As much as i love Felix, he is not a solution.

hmm what else. The father can go die for all i care. Lmao.

END

Episode 10

OH I THOUGHT PILAR KNOWS NOW BUT NOOOO

OH NOOO O NO NO NOOO

AND ANDREW STIRRING SHIT UP NOOOOOO

PILAR STOOOOP

NOO NOT PUBLICLY

OMFG

I CANNOT.

Also i cannot get over Andrew’s actor looking like Stromae. They have the same eyes, eyebrows and expressions X_X

THIS IS WHY WE DONT KEEP SHIT BEFORE A PUBLIC EVENT. IT ALWAYS EXPLODES ON A PUBLIC EVENT.

YOU BET YOUR ass i skipped the whole confrontation scene. I’ll go back to it maybe or just look at gifs but nope. My cancer rising and moon can’t handle that shit.

Is ... is Mia going to see Victor and Benji together and then theorize? Because god freaking damnit im tired of that plot twist.

Oh Benji. Honey honey honey please don’t do whatever I think you’re about to do.

FUCKING NEW IT. CALLED IT. CALLED ITITTTT MIA FUCKIGN SAW I HATE VERYTHING.

....

wait the way the ending was shot is weird. The cliffhanger is weird. Everything is weird.

ILL MAKE A HUNCH that it was actually just Victor in his dream land thinking that coming out is that easy and that you just blurt it out.

Bet you the next season will start with no body but Felix and Mia and Andrew know about his sexuality.

The shot was too much on Victor. There was no sound cue from the family etc etc. I hate the ending so much. Love Victor could’ve been so much more. Could’ve pioneered a fresh way to show lgbt stories and how coming out is this and that. Even if the show is for Gen Z and this generation, coming out should reflect to how coming out is generally perceived nowadays. But i guess that was too much. Foolish me for having my expectations waay too high.

The End

#Glass thoughts #love victor #love victor spoilers #this exhausted #me

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x0401x · 5 years

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Flower Symbolism in Tsurune

The amount of plant representation in this franchise has considerably increased with the release of the DVDs and KyoAni’s latest spring campaign, so it seems more than appropriate to make this kind of post right now. This post has been bettered thanks to @bowcrazy. Most of the symbolisms refers to individual characters, so I’ve separated them by the official character line-up order.

I’m gonna start with the ones that represent everybody.

Yesterday-today-tomorrow: I’m guessing that this one is the flower that appears during the opening and ending. They seem to also be the ones appearing behind Minato in the DVD bonus artworks as well, so I’ll get to them below soon enough.

Iris: This one is mentioned twice in the novel, and in one of those mentions, they seem to refer to the Kazemai boys. It has many meanings, the most common ones being faith, hope, wisdom, courage, valor and admiration. In Japanese flower language, they’re associated with good news, glad tidings and loyalty. Gifting someone with irises normally means “your friendship signifies so much to me”, and they’re often used in Japan on Boys’ Day.

Now, the flowers below are the ones shown behind each of the characters in the artworks that come with the DVD/Blu-ray sets.

Sen & Man

Amaryllis: Stands for pride and self-confidence. Its message is “if you’ve got it, flaunt it”, and boy, are the twins arrogant. But here’s what’s truly interesting about this flower: it’s normally associated with one-sided feelings, lmao. The red ones, like most red flowers, are linked to passion and love, be it requited or not. I really wanna try to pretend that Senichi staring at Shuu in that artwork instead of ahead like his brother is doing has absolutely nothing to do with this, but damn, it’s hard. I won’t lie; this kind of depiction of the Kirisaki trio (literally every single thing about it) had been on my official art wishlist for a long time.

Shuu

Tulip: Its general significance is “perfect, enduring love”, but there’s also a variety of other meanings to it:

Undying passionate love, whether the passion is spurned or returned

Royalty and a regal nature

Forgotten or neglected love

Abundance, prosperity, and indulgence

Charity and supporting the less fortunate

There’s probably no better flower to describe Shuu’s character. The undying love surely refers to archery *cough* and Minato *cough*. He does have a regal, noble-like nature, and has been overflowing with talent from the very start. The neglected love might be a reference to his family, but it might also apply to Shuu hitting a wall at the end of volume 1. The part about charity and supporting the less fortunate is probably an allusion to Shuu growing softer and helping out the twins after Manji gets target panic. Moreover, the tulips behind Shuu in that artwork are white, which are used to claim worthiness.

Nanao

Osmanthus: The flowers that represent the Kazemai boys have very similar meanings and I’m pretty sure that’s on purpose. The osmanthus signifies happiness, good fortune and prosperity. This flower is known for being attention-grabbing due to its strong scent, and that may refer to Nanao’s popularity with girls. It’s also nicknamed “emperor’s flower” and “emperor’s jasmine” in some languages, which might be a reference to how Nanao is depicted as prince-like in the novel.

Kaito

Cornflower: This one also stands for good fortune and prosperity. However, it has a special focus on friendship as well, and considering that “friendship” is the keyword of Kaito’s character arc, it only makes sense. This flower comes in a variety of colors, but there are only blue and pink ones behind Kaito. The main people of Kaito’s character arc and development other than Kaito himself are Nanao and Seiya, so the colors surely represent the two of them respectively. The fact that the crushing majority of the flowers is blue is without doubt a purposeful detail.

Ryouhei

Peony: Yet another good fortune and prosperity flower. They also carry the meaning of bashfulness. The ones behind Ryouhei are red, which is considered a symbol of luck. The message of peonies is “striving to act honorably” and “sharing one’s love with others to improve their lives as well”.

Sunshine child exists to bless everyone. No news here.

Seiya

Daisy: This one has different meanings depending on its variations, but the generally accepted meanings are innocence, purity, new beginnings and true love. Giving daisies to someone also normally means that the sender might be keeping a secret.

Daisies are often used to represent motherhood as well. The ones behind Seiya are English daisies, which are often paired with primroses in order to symbolize motherly love.

Minato & Masaki

The symbolism resolving around these idiots comes in a set and it’s literally impossible to separate them since one either also applies to the other or is about one’s feelings regarding the other.

I’ll start with the flowers on the DVD/Blu-ray’s artworks.

Jersey lily: Lilies carry a variety of meanings, but red ones stand specifically for passion. Jersey lilies, on their own, normally represent:

Perseverance and resilience

Happy memories

Brilliance, radiance

The messages of jersey lilies are “you have a lovely smile” (Minato would tell you about it, lmao) and “I look forward to when we meet once again”. Now the last one was a punch to the gut.

Yesterday-today-tomorrow: This one is also known as kiss-me-quick, and the irony is ridiculous. It’s a flower normally associated with the stages and the passage of time, as the name denounces. In Japanese flower language, it carries the meaning of:

Good fortune, just as everyone else

Inconstant, fickle person

Passionate

That’s a very Minato-like flower, considering how much he wavers and how open he is to doing the unexpected. The passion part goes without saying.

Now on with the novel stuff.

Oak: The trees surrounding Yata Shrine. It stands for wisdom and strength.

Bamboo: Minato compares Masaki’s shots with bamboo sprouts at some point. They symbolise resilience and inspiration.

Cherry blossom: The story begins with the first day of school, which means spring, which means cherry blossoms everywhere. There also seem to be cherry flower petals raining all over the DVD/Blu-ray artworks, which makes me believe that this flower applies to all the main characters. Still, Kirisaki doesn’t show up until the cherry blossoms are already gone, and Minato meets Masaki for the second time when the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, so I dare say the flower applies to both of them in a very particular way.

This flower is used to remind people that life is short yet beautiful, often represent gentleness and femininity, and symbolize the short-lived beauty of youth. They’re also an allurance to new beginnings and the start/renewal of a cycle, since they are a common symbol of the coming of spring. They’re usually an allegory for romance as well, but plot devices aside, I don’t think this one should be considered.

Azalea: Amongst other things, they mean “remembering your home with fondness or wishing to return to it”, “caring for yourself and your family”, “temperance and emotional evenness”, and “delicate/developing passion”. The part of remembering home with fondness and wanting to return to it definitely refers to archery, and I’m pretty sure that this is emphasized by the fact that the chapter of the novel in which azaleas are mentioned is titled “Home”. “Caring for yourself” surely refers to both Minato and Masaki, but “caring for your family” might refer to Masaki alone in this case, since he was shooting in order to send his grandfather’s soul to rest. Temperance and emotional evenness surely refers to Masaki alone, lmao. Delicate and developing passion, though, refers to the two of them without a doubt.

In Japanese flower language, the message of azaleas is “take care of yourself for me”. Now this is an extremely fascinating piece of information, because Minato and Masaki basically act like that with each other all the time, both conscious and subconsciously. Masaki is always giving Minato advice on how to improve not only his technique but also his life, and all Minato learns from him never fails to turn out useful for very personal matters, and normally serves as Minato’s trigger to solve each and every one of his problems. In contraposition, Minato never shies away from showing how important Masaki is to him, which always instigates optimistic changes on Masaki as a person and influences on big decisions in that have impact not only in his life but also on Minato’s (because literally everything one does affects the other at some point). In a way, one usually takes the initiative to care for himself after receiving positivity and affection from the other.

Spotted bellflower: Bellflowers are a symbol of gratitude and unwavering love. For some reason, the author specifies spotted bellflowers, which are known for their heart-shaped leaves.

Primrose: Minato seems to be holding a bouquet of primroses in the newest art for KyoAni’s spring campaign, and rather than representing him, they most likely represent his feelings. This one has the connotation of something special and of telling somebody you can’t live without them. Its main meanings are youth, love, new beginnings, rapture, new life, blindness, birth/rebirth and supertition, and if this shit doesn’t make y’all flashback at the speed of light to Minato and Masaki’s encounters at night in Yata Shrine, I don’t know what would.

But wait. It gets worse.

Primroses are a representation of the many stages of life, but they mostly stand for youth due to also representing the incapability to have a realistic image of the world when we are in love, as the initial moments of love have people in reverie and blind them a bit. Another meaning that it carries is the fact that there’s an end to each life on this planet. All of that seems to bring back not only the nights in Yata Shrine but also the truck accident and what happened afterwards.

These flowers also seem to apply to volume 2, since they symbolize our fallacies about love and other people, which both lead to disappointments and teach us important lessons. It also stands for protection and safety, and that might as well refer to the entirety of both volumes.

Victorians consider primroses as a symbol of bashfulness, inconsistency, young loves, and neglected merits. The message of primrose is “I cannot live without you”, and Minato literally can’t live without a certain somebody, so it seems legit enough.

#tsurune #tsurune kazemai koukou kyuudoubu #narumiya minato #takigawa masaki #takehaya seiya #fujiwara shuu #onogi kaito #kisaragi nanao #yamanouchi ryouhei #sugawara senichi #sugawara manji #kyoani #kyoto animation #morimoto chinatsu #ayano kotoko

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