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adarkrainbow · 9 months

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Why was Hansel the meal of the witch?

This is a question I was aked recently, and I thought it would make a good subject for a post. "Why did the witch only try to fatten up and eat Hansel? Why didn't she imprison and fattened up Gretel too? Why did she choose to make Gretel her slave instead of Hansel?"

Which is actually a fascinating question. Now, I do not promise that there is some grand truth or secret meaning behind this. It is just a little detail and some technical workings of fairytales. But it is a point that many authors and rewriters have taken an interest upon, and that if a true well of reinterpretations.

So let's go... Why was Hansel the meal, and Gretel the slave?

If we go by the "canon" of the text (of course "canonical" fairytales do not exist, this is just an expression) - if we go by the Brothers Grimm's text, we... well we do not know. It is not specified anywhere why the witch decides to lock up and fatten up Hansel out of the siblings, and to not do the same thing for Gretel. There is no reason explicitely spelled out or given. Maybe she simply prefers the meat of boys over the one of girls? This absence of justification, and the apparent "randomness" of the choice opens a door for authors who would like to change things: for example in "A Tale Dark and Grimm" (the book, not the Netflix series), it is both Hansel and Gretel that are fattened up by the witch, and she only picks Hansel as the first one to be roasted. The Looney Tunes Hansel and Gretel also were both in the cooking pot of the witch Hazel...

The text only leaves implications for the reader. For example, the need for the witch to have a slave/assistant to help her with the chores is implied by the facts that she is 1) elderly 2) has a very bad sight and 3) walks with crutches (a very important point). So it is understandable she would require a slave to help her - but then why pick Gretel, and not Hansel? Again, the text does not answer. Many people like to portray Hansel as the oldest child of the duo, and Gretel as a younger sister - this is because Hansel seems to be the strongest, bravest and most intelligent one, as well as with how his name always comes first in the text, Gretel being after him. Maybe the witch chose to eat him first because he was precisely older, and thus there was a more developed body to eat? Even if the siblings are of the same age, we can always imagine the very old and present male/female dichotomy that claims that men's body are naturaly stronger, larger and meatier than women's, who have graceful, slender, lighter bodies. Maybe such a concept is at work, putting forward a mindset where a cannibal witch will always go for boys first as a main course, and girls next as an appetizer...

One possible reading of the story is that the witch only had enough place to lock up ONE child and thus had to make a choice. Maybe there wasn't enough room for two kids in her prison for future meals? This interpretation is supported by the ORIGINAL text of the Grimm's fairytale. In the first edition of the brothers Grimm's fairytales (provided by Jack Zipes), there is an explicit mention of the place Hansel is locked in: it isn't some sort of stable or cage as it would later be described, oh no! It is a chicken coop so small Hansel can BARELY MOVE. It is a really tiny prison, in which he barely fits. Of course, on a practical side, it can help with the whole fattening process since having a child eat rich meals without ever moving is certain to make him plump in no time (just look at these horrible industrial farms and how they lock up animals in tiny cages) ; but this detail actually explained why the witch only placed her efforts on one child, and not two: she obviously had only enough to place to lock up one kid, and had to deal with the other in a different way.

But even if we admit all those implications - that the elderly, handicaped witch needed a help, that she had only enough room to lock up one child, that maybe Hansel as an older boy makes a better meal than Gretel - there are still some strange and bizarre logical holes. For example, the witch beats up and starves and exhausts Gretel. This is the complete opposite of what she does to Hansel, who is pampered and fattened up - does this imply the witch maybe does NOT want to eat Gretel? Or does she really have only enough resources to fatten up one child, and can only afford making Gretel more edible once she is done with Hansel?

Again, mysteries upon mysteries. Fairytales are not created to work on practical details or actual psychological processes - they are stories relying on powerful visuals and ancient motifs and a dream-logic-structure. When we are told that the witch locks up Hansel to fatten him up and eat him, and that Gretel is becoming an abused slave, we just accept it, because it works on a set of powerful visuals, such as the malnurished slave sister cooking and feeding her imprisoned and soon-to-be-killed brother. The idea of the sister being reduced to a tool in the process of killing her own brother is a very powerful one, never explicitly stated, but still present and sometimes used by adaptations. There was this German Hansel and Gretel movie released in 2005 that explicitly played on this: the children were never told by the witch her intentions when she locked up Hansel, and for the first week or so of Gretel being a slave and Hansel fattened up, they were left in the dark concerning the real intentions of their mysterious jailers. This was a stark contrast with many Americanized adaptations that have the witch gloating and explaining her cannibalistic desires to her victims, and which opened the door for some interesting plot points - in this movie's case, Gretel being quite jealous and envious of Hansel's new life of feasting and being kindly treated by the witch when she got all the insults and chores. Of course, when they discover the truth, their mutual feelings reverse as Hansel realizes his seemingly "easier" fate is actually the worst of the two.

Still, the text is left ambiguous and open-ended enough for us to imagine TONS of things. There could be a rewrite of the tale where the witch exclusively eats little boys, and hates little girls. One nterpretation of dark poetry of the tale can be found in Znescope's Gretel mini-series. Despite this mini-series having BIG flaws (the choice of the witch's true identity was... quite bad to be honest), it does have a very interestng and morbid answer to the "Why was Hansel the only one fattened up?" question. It chooses to depict this difference of treatment as a sick and cruel game the witch plays with her preys: Hansel and Gretel are both her prisoners, but she fattens up Hansel while she starves Gretel, to make a contrast between the two, simply out of a perverse amusement. There is one particularly striking image of the two children locked in two cages arranged like a weighing scale, with Hansel's cage going lower as he grows fatter and Gretel's going up as she becomes skeletal... It is a nice visual contrast that has been reused by various artists.

Now, I spoke mainly here of the content of the story and of the text itself. However, as I stated before, we must look beyond the story itself to understand why Hansel was to be the meal, and not Gretel. Or rather we need to look at the fairy tale's structure, on a meta-level.

As I said before, the fairy tale works here on a system of duality. Hansel and Gretel are meant to be a yin and a yang, complementary reflections. The boy and the girl, the brave and the coward, the cunning older brother and the crying little sister. The idea that their fates are "split" into the house of the witch not only furthers the anguish of the characters, who at this point were always together but now find themselves separated, unable to face together the same trials, but also keeps on playing on these visuals and motifs. As I said, there is something that many artists read in the tale, in the opposition between a malnourished Gretel and a feasting Hansel. This is part of the same duality of food and famine present all throughout the tale, such as the woodcutter's famished and poor household, opposed to the witch's house made of sweets and with chests full of pearls. The siblings represent two forms of abuse and evilness enacted by the witch, but in complementary forms: with Gretel the witch becomes a domestic abuser and an enslaver, with Hansel she becomes a jailer and an ogress.

One can also read in this an extension of the typical sexist duality between men and women in these old centuries: the fates the witch forces upon the two children can be caricatures of what each gender is supposed to "do" in such a society. Gretel, like women, is expected to do household chores and to cook for her "man" - here it is caricatured into her becoming a slave, and only helping fattening up her brother like some cattle. In return, Hansel, like a man, is supposed to be well-treated and well-fed, but here the caring wife/mother figure is a monstrous hag who only makes him feast so she could eat him later. In fact, it is quite interesting to see how both siblings are dehumanized and reduced to the status of animals - from Hansel being fattened up in the stables like some pig or chicken, to Gretel being fed leftovers like a dog.

All of that being said, there is another much needed argument that must be made: the answer fo thte question can be easily found in the story's structure. This is the most obvious solving of the problem when you consider it all: the story of Hansel and Gretel relies on the idea that the two children must save each other in turn. There is a balance in the tale, which bears the name of the two protagonists as heroes, but one before the other. During the first part of the tale, it is Hansel who takes the lead and the decisions. He is the cunning hero who tricks his parents, saves his sister from the woods, returns home thanks to his plan. Gretel is only seen being scared, and crying, and not doing anything except follow her brother around. In the second part of the tale, within the witch's house, it is Gretel who becomes the hero. Her brother is "out of the race", locked up away and unable to do anything, and it is Gretel who this time has to trick the deadly parental figure, come up with a clever ruse, and ultimately save her brother from death. This creates a perfect balance between the two characters: Hansel starts out as the hero protecting his useless sister, and then it is Gretel who vanquishes her uselessness to become the hero saving her own, impotent brother. The siblings need each other to survive, and thus save each other in turn. This is how the story works. And this is why Hansel must be the locked-up, fattened-up victim, so that his sister can save him. Else it would have been the story of "Hansel", and not "Hansel and Gretel".

All of that being said, a last point must be made about a final theory. A theory and reading of the tale that has been very prevalent and prominent in recent adaptations of the story.

The recent "Gretel and Hansel" horror movie did it. Before the (X horror movie) also did it. Neil Gaiman's Hansel and Gretel also used this idea. The comics Fables toyed with it in a side-way. And this idea is simple: the witch did not want to eat Gretel, but rather wanted to make her a witch like herself. Gretel wasn't the witch's slave, but unwilling apprentice.

This idea is born of course from a reconsideration of what a "witch" is, and the gender questions attached with the figure of the witch. In the original story, the witch is not a witch in the modern sense of the term, in fact she is a monster that is very clearly an ogress by another name. There is no question of learning how to be a witch, or making deal with dark powers, or anything like that. But when you read the tale with the modern sense of "witch", as a symbol of dark and hostile feminity, as a woman of power, who works against the domination of men, or the tyranny of patriarchy - when you consider all the gender questions surrounding real-life witches and the witch hunts, you see the witch's actions under a different eye. Her not wanting to eat Gretel at first, and making her do her chores, and forcing her to live with her, might hint at the fact she still considers her more "human" or more valuable than her brother, who is nothing but food, a mere cattle. Several of the modern reinventions of the tale, such as those stated above, decide to add the twist that the witch actually wants to shape or make the little girl into her image: from a slave doing the witch's chores, she becomes the witch apprentice, who is by her side in everything she does. Some of those readngs remove the elements of abuse towards Gretel, while others do not forget them. Neil Gaiman's take on the story is especially fascinating as the witch is explicitely described as oscillating between periods of sweetness and kidndness, promising Gretel all of her secrets and great powers, and periods of pure hatred and violence where she just insults and beats up the girl - all of it highlighting either the witch's madness, or a form of senility due to her old age.

But this theme of "Gretel as a future witch" or "Gretel as the witch's apprentice" ties in with another subtext well-hidden in the original text, but that many like to weave upon: Gretel as the "daughter" of the witch. In many of those rewrites and reinterpretations, the witch doesn't just treat Gretel as an apprentice, but as an heir or a replacement daughter. This is no surprise since it is very clear that in the original tale, the witch is the dark side of the mother figure, and an evil doppelganger of the wicked stepmother/mother of the siblings. As such, it makes sense for her to impose an abusive and unconsented motherhood upon Gretel - doesn't her forcing the girl to do all the chores not reminiscent of how famous fairytales stepmothers treat heroines like Cinderella? Such a perverse motherhood was already explicit and obvious in her treatment of Hansel: like a mother she nourishes and feeds Hansel (in fact she succeeds where the wicked stepmother failed), but this is all to devour him, in a ritual of "un-birth", she becomes a death-givers who doesn't expel a child out of her womb, but has it return to her stomach. [This is a very common and usual motif among ogres of fairytales, who are all caricatures of parenthood].

More generally, to have the witch act in such a way actually makes the fairytale more "feminist" somehow, but in a quite perverse way. Because in such a reading, we have a women-dominated world. The true active and powerful characters of the story are beings such as the wicked stepmother and the witch, who command, control and influence the other characters - especially the male ones. The father is a weak puppet who can't stand up to his wife, Hansel is reduced to a fat pig in a cage. Hansel did try to escape the tyranny of the wicked woman, but all he could do was push back his doom, and his plans ultimately failed. Gretel, as a woman herself, is given a special treatment - and in the "apprentice/daughter" interpretation, is "absorbed" by this world of wicked, dominating women. But she actually breaks from it, and kills the one that would have "turned" her - and it is telling and interesting that the only one who can have a true an full success, a definitive victory in this tale is Gretel. Hansel's plans work and save them, but only for a brief time, and his last plan fails dramaticaly, before he gets locked up and "out of the story". Gretel meanwhile, when she gets the courage and intelligence to act, proves herself much more efficient and definitive than her brother, as she puts a true end to the threat other them by killing the witch (and by extension killing the wicked stepmother/mother). This is something Hansel couldn't do - all he could was trck the wicked woman, and nullify her plans, but he could not remove the threat of the death and the hunger.

Anyway, as you can see, despite being a quite superficial and silly question, this fact (or rather absence of facts) opens up a whole jar of various interpretations, readings and themes, and proves the hidden complexity of these apparently "simple" stories.

#hansel and gretel #hansel #gretel #witch #fairytale analysis #the gingerbread house witch #grimm fairytales #german fairytales #hansel and gretel adaptations

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fennecfics-the-simp-king · 3 months

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Cuphead Show! King Dice & Devil x Reader preferences (romantic):

Heyyyy I’m gonna be posting more x Reader stuff here. Also some words are censored because Tumblr is a meanie and won’t let me swear in my fanfiction-

The gender for (Y/n) is vague, but it does have menstrual cycle preferences mixed in, along with some talk about these two respecting pronouns and that jazz so, yeah.

Hope it’s a fun read, I might post more of these guys.

Being in a (romantic) relationship with The Devil would include:

• It’s actually hard for him to fall in love or even trust others, so it’ll take a while for him to say “I love you”.

• Though the first time he’ll ever say “I love you” (most likely after a few months of you two dating) it is immediately followed by a scrunch of the face and him going. “That was… strange..”

• He forces you to live in Hell with him, and only lets you visit Earth on special occasions. Family stuff, friends, but other than that YOU’RE STAYING!!

• He’s so dramatic whenever he has to cut his nails. He’ll run away from you, or hide. Once, while trying to find him to cut his nails, you found him on the ceiling.

• Despite hating his nails being cut, he will literally beg you to paint his nails. He won't just do one color though, he likes to change it up a bit. Sometimes he'll ask for grey, gold, red, but he loves the black nail polish!

• Whenever he has to do stuff that he doesn’t want to do, he tries to argue that he’s the devil and because of that, you can’t tell him what to do.

• One of his favorite activities is burning bibles, so...you have to deal with being woken up to the smell of smoke at 3AM.

• He's still not fond with current technology, but he does seem to enjoy Netflix.

• Devil giving you weird pet names: Darlin', succub!tch, shmoopie, baby-cakes, cow-pie, and tortoise-pigeon (Being the main nickname).

• If you ever need to practice your makeup on someone, Devil won't mind. He likes how it makes him look.

• Surprisingly enough, this guy brushes his teeth regularly. He got them pearly whites. That, and he doesn't want to loose his sharp teeth, they're his favorite, apparently they make him look intimidating.

• Devil is a man of art, very therapeutic for him. He loves to paint, sometimes he’ll want you to pose for him. And he's actually quite quick when it comes to painting.

• Both you and Henchmen helping him whenever he basically gets electrocuted by the sweater. The two of you are practically the only people he trusts, with Dice being the third.

• He doesn't care what gender you are, or if you're trans. If you're still you, and if you're not lying about anything, he won't care. Along with that he also doesn’t KNOW anything about that stuff, so you probably gotta help if you want him to understand.

• Even though he's the devil, he would never want you to feel bad about yourself. He loves you unconditionally, he would kill anyone who makes you feel that way, steal their soul, eat it, then spit it back out ‘cause it’s clearly rotten!

• If you go through the menstrual cycle and are having bad cramps, he gets very…awkward. He’s not very affectionate with others so he has no idea how to comfort people. He’ll most likely just have some of his little demons looking after you for a few days.

• He tries to use correct pronouns, he mostly slips up though, and he won't realize. You just have to be there to correct him for him to actually notice.

Random example:

(He's showing you to someone)

"Yeah, she's really adorable, isn't she?"

"It's 'they'.”

"...AHHH!" *frustrated demon noises*

• He’s not frustrated at you or the fact you use different pronouns, he’s frustrated at himself for not doing it right. So don’t worry.

Being in a relationship with King Dice would include:

• Probably says “I love you” way too fast, and by that I mean on the first date.

• If you wear makeup he’ll experiment with it whenever you’re asleep. (The masculine urge to wear your partner’s makeup)

• One of his favorite parts of your body happens to be your hands. He loves how perfectly they fit into his. Sometimes he’ll preform a type of show using his hand and your hand as the actors.

• If you go sit in the audience him during Roll The Dice. He'll immediately see you in the crowd and blush for the rest of the show.

• When he knows you're in the audience, he'll say this while announcing to everyone: "Ladies and gentlemen! ..and (Y/n).." (he'll whisper your name under his breath, but loud enough for the microphone to pick it up.)

• King Dice ALSO giving you some (semi)weird pet names: Darling, fuzzy dice, you adorable gambler, my wild card, little poker, and pumpkin.

• The personification of drama.

• Has a lot of gossip and info on the other famous people of Inkwell. Will tell you this gossip. You will listen. You have no choice-

• This man may seem like he knows how to do shit on his own, but he actually needs help with most things. Such as you having to help with this man's bow-tie every morning, because he just cannot figure it out for the life of him.

• Perfectionist, such a damn perfectionist. He won't go on with his day without him looking perfectly chipper, and he also spends hours in the shower. Really making sure to run up those water bills.

• A little sensitive about his age. If you ask him about it, he’ll say "that's not important" which is an oddly a creepy answer-

• If you wake up early, you'll find Dice in the bathroom just looking at himself in the mirror with a blank stare. If you actually enter the bathroom, he'll be so terrified that he jumps INTO the shower and closes the curtain to hide himself.

• He's mostly insecure about his pips, or dots. He knows he's getting old, because his color is fading. So...he buys lipstick to cover the faded coloring. But you smudged it once while he was kissing you, and he reacted like he was dying.

• He fiddles with his mustache when he's nervous and yet hates if tell him it makes him look like a villain.

• Much like his boss, if you go through the menstrual cycle he gets ungracefully awkward. But he tries to be very casual about it, despite his awkwardness being obvious as hell.

• “Oh, it’s that week?” Silent for a second. “Do you need me to get you anything or ..no?”

• Will buy you everything you need. And since stuff like tampons were fairly new in the 1930s and therefore most likely a tad expensive, thankfully he does have the money for it.

• If reminded, will carry some on him for you. If reminded that is, I’m putting emphasis on “IF REMINDED” for a f—king reason! Guy’s on autopilot all day, he’s famous but also has pretty much everything done for him, and so he doesn’t have to think about much.

• If not reminded he will completely forget and therefore freak the hell out if asked if for some.

• Like The Devil, he has no idea what being Non-binary means, or Bisexual, or anything related to that. I’m not saying he’s straight….He’s not, he just doesn’t know there are words for stuff like that other than ‘homosexual’ and a few other words I can’t mention-

• So, he'll mess up a few times when trying to use the correct pronouns, except he'll correct himself very VERY quickly.

• "He- THEY.. are my partner. I said they, of course I did. I would never say anything other than they.” Silence for a few seconds before then saying in a much more serious tone: “I said they.”

• He cares. He’s just stupid/j

#cuphead show x reader #the cuphead show #the devil x reader #king dice x reader #cuphead devil #fennecfics #gn!reader #gn!y/n #the devil cuphead #x reader #fanfiction

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clubdionysus · 28 days

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[BAD DECISION #14] New Rules

warnings: enter stage left: jungkook's hands. the birds are up to no good!! fingering; 1, 2, 3, scouts honour, woohoo! mirrors!! dirty talk! jaykay is so hard he might die, but no action for him! no kissing rule established! no pet names! no hand holding!!! fingers in minge?? perfectly fine! totally friendly!

soundtrack: nonsense - sabrina carpenter

wc: 7.9k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Hey," you greet Jeongguk with a coy smile by your apartment door. He smiles back. Tells you that you look like shit. Is definitely lying.

The way he looks you up and down gives it away.

Your hair is up in a claw clip, still a little uneven in colour because you don't want to put it through even more torture. A slouchy white shirt hangs off your left shoulder, and a pair of dark leggings hug your legs. It's casual. Comfy. Still got glitter on your eyes, as always.

Jeongguk can't remember if you've had a discussion about yoga leggings, and how they've got a track record of giving him boners in record speed.

You haven't. You're just aware your ass looks fairly good in them. Not like it matters. Not like you need him to think your ass looks good. No, nothing like that at all.

You also haven't started a daily squat challenge. That would be immature. Flirting with danger. And even if you had, it would be incredibly stupid to leave the chart up on the kitchen fridge - which is where you beeline after you leave the door open for him.

You don't bother inviting him in, mind you. He knows he's welcome. Not because he's been there a thousand times over, nor because it's where you usually spend time together, but because the apartment is yours . He's welcome in your space.

But he is incredibly early - and you tell him as such when you curl up on the couch, tucking the piece of paper you'd swiped from the fridge door beneath a stack of magazines. Jeongguk takes the spot next to you, despite the fact there are plenty of other places for him to sit instead. Part of you is tempted to kick him off.

The rest of you, though? So incredibly glad to have him close again.

"Danbi's class runs for another half an hour," you tell him as you scroll through the Netflix landing page.

It's a Monday, and neither of you have been at work today. The perks of your schedules aligning mean that Monday is always a safe bet, but you'd been in desperate need of alone time. The past few weeks have exhausted your social battery.

Jeongguk gets like that sometimes, too - but he also doesn't like spending too much time in his own head, and so when a text from you had pinged through earlier that afternoon asking if he wanted to hang out, he replied almost immediately.

It's been a week. Over a week, actually. It's the first time he's seen you since you left his apartment. There's been no real discussion of what happened. A few 'i've seen your tits lol ' texts here and there, but nothing that really qualifies as a grown-up conversation. You think you like it better this way; prefer the ominous unknown of the impact such a venture has had on your friendship.

For the most part, it seems like it's had minimal impact. None of which you can recognise straight off the bat, at least. Maybe he's a little more comfortable now than he once was, but you can't really tell. Not entirely.

Thing is, he always seemed comfortable before. There's never really been a need for boundaries. They came and went naturally.

Perhaps that's your problem: you got far too relaxed far too quickly.

And yet you keep a little distance. Who cares if he's seen your tits? God forbid you sit too close to one another.

"Class?" He questions, not realising Danbi was still studying.

She isn't. It's just her hobby. Something she does to unwind after spending all day chasing after unruly dogs.

You nod, eyes still on the screen, looking for something mindless to put on. He's here for the second installment of your Deadpool marathon, so you don't want to put anything worthy of investment on.

"Pole."

"Pole as in..." he says slowly, not sure of the correct term, so you help him out.

"As in pole dancing," you confirm. "She's been doing it for a while. Keeps trying to get me to join."

Jeongguk doesn't look at you as he smirks, his eyes now also focused on the Netflix loading screen. "You? Pole dancing?"

There's a jovial glint in his eye, as if he thinks it's the funniest thing he's heard all afternoon. If you were to say that, he'd tell you that you're wrong. It's the funniest thing he's heard all day.

"Hey!" You kick your leg out to tap him, but he stops it before you can reach him. Squeezes his hand ever so gently around your foot. Pushes it back towards you, and holds it down. "I could be good at pole!"

He looks over to you now. "Byeol, I've seen you after twenty minutes on a treadmill. You don't have the stamina."

The smile on his lips would make it seem like he's joking - but he has seen you on a treadmill after twenty minutes. He's absolutely telling what he deems to be the truth, and the offence you take only makes him smile even more.

"Don't-" you halt your words to utter a shriek of disbelief. "Don't have the stamina? Fuck you."

"Nah," he grins. "You wouldn't have the stamina to handle me."

The conversation remains steady; a flirt between friends. Nothing more, nothing less. It's easy. Casual.

And when Danbi gets home, it doesn't change. Oh so incredibly easy. Jeongguk fits into the life you've carved out for yourself, almost like there was a nook waiting just for him.

Pizza is ordered. Deadpool is played. Ryan Reynolds' ass in lycra is praised. Everything is as it should be.

When it hits midnight, and Danbi is already tucked up in bed, Jeongguk makes his excuses. Gears up to leave. Mentions the fact he's got the gym in the morning. Can't be out too late.

The part of you that considers telling him to stay is quiet. Instead, you just nod and agree.

"It's a miracle you're still able to have a decent sleeping pattern," you say as you walk him to the door. "I'd be exhausted all the time."

He doesn't tell you, but he is. Really could have done with an evening to himself. Uni is ramping up, and he's worried he's gonna fall behind on his coursework already.

It's why he's pretty much radio silent for the week that follows.

Until, all of a sudden, he's not.

Jeongguk: DB.

You: That's no better than disco ball .

Jeongguk: It's better than BD.

You: ... Ball disco?

Jeongguk: Big Ditties.

You: Oh my god.

You: I'm blocking you .

Jeongguk: No you're not. Come hang out.

Jeongguk: Coursework is driving me insane.

Jeongguk: Need a distraction.

You: Good. Hope it does <3

Jeongguk: :( comeee.

You: No :) x

You arrive a little after ten.

Jeongguk is in sweats and a T-shirt, beyond the point of caring to dress up in your presence. Your dynamic is well-established by now; comfort found in the confines of your time spent together. He's got a buttered slice of toast in one hand, a dusting of crumbs detailing the tips of his fingers like the glitter on the inner corners of your eyes. He'd burnt it. You can tell by the scent that lingers in the air, and the knife marks near the crusts where he'd tried to scrape it off.

He grins, in that stupid kind of lopsided way he always does whenever he gets his way.

"Thought you said you weren't coming?"

Your lips are pursed, annoyance written along the line of your frown. The ink is water-soluble, though. One bite down on your bottom lip and it washes away. "I'm here to see the children."

He stands to the side. Opens the door just a little bit wider. "It's about time. They were about to report you to child protective services."

"Oh, yeah?" You encourage his teasing as you step over the threshold.

"Uh-huh," he continues as he bites down on the toast. It crunches beneath his teeth, but doesn't stop him from talking. "Negligent mother, they said - shoes off -" he interrupts himself when you point to your feet. "Take them to my room though."

It's curious, the way he's still keeping you hidden. The only reason for them to not be in the hallway is to stop Jimin from asking questions when he arrives home.

If you knew the grilling Jeongguk's been getting ever since that evening Jimin nearly walked in on the pair of you, you'd understand. It's far easier for Jeongguk if he gives his housemate as little ammunition to tease him with as he can.

But Jimin's not home. He's in Busan for the weekend.

Jeongguk doesn't tell you this. He's not sure why. Part of him doesn't want to talk about Jimin with you. It's stupid, he'll admit, but he likes being your friend. Likes you being his friend. Doesn't like Jimin having one up on him.

He thinks it would be the same if he had a sister. That kind of protective nature.

But he's also seen you naked. Knows that he really can't kid himself into thinking it's entirely platonic. Is kind of confused by it all.

Just knows that he likes the way things are. Doesn't want them to change.

And so he doesn't mention Jimin.

When you enter his room, shoes tossed by his desk, you clamber up onto his bed and take a seat. There's no protest from him, no sign of it being an unwanted intrusion on his space. His sheets have been changed since your last visit, gold acrylic immediately washed away the morning after.

He takes a perch on his desk chair, swinging it around to face you. You're lit only by the lamp of his bedside table and the glow of the city coming in through his curtains. The warmth of the light makes your glitter look like crackling embers burning through the night skies.

"So," you say, all very matter of a fact. There's a demure nature to your poise. It's not very 'you'. "You requested my company?"

He nods.

"Why?"

He spins in his chair to his desk, and picks up a bird. Reads it aloud. "Invite a girl over."

You look at him for a moment, and purse your lips. He's an idiot .

"We both know that this isn't what that means."

"Why not?" He says as if he's genuinely without a clue.

"Because!"

You don't elaborate. Think there's no need. He knows exactly why not - but he's an insolent little fucker when he wants to be.

"No, because what , Byeol?" He says with a grin. He knows you're right. Doesn't care.

"Because," you emphasise. "We both know that inviting a girl over is so much more than just a simple act of asking her to come round. There are layers to it. Innuendo. It's like asking if she wants ramyeon, Gguk. You know this."

There's a grin on his lips that he's trying to hide - and is failing miserably.

"The bird says-"

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh. "It doesn't matter what the bird says. You know what it means."

"Yeah," he feigns innocence to his misdemeanour, eyes all wide and watery. So deep brown in colour it feels like a black hole is just sucking you in. Will never let you leave. God help the next girl who falls in love with him. "It means that I have to invite a girl to my place." He gestures towards you. Shakes his head. "You are a girl, no?"

"You've seen my tits, no?"

"You can't use tits as a qualifier," he tells you. "Not when you insist I also have tits."

"Touche - but still. It doesn't matter if I'm a girl. I'm not a girl girl."

"What does that even mean?" He scoffs, but he knows what you mean. Knows that the risk of rejection from you isn't the same as it is with a random girl. Knows that you're an exception. Not the rule.

"Like, a romantic interest," you say, well-aware he doesn't need it explaining. You just think you need to say it for your own sake. "I'm a friend. It doesn't say invite a friend round, does it?"

"Okay, but it doesn't not say that, does it?"

You're stern as you stare him down. "Jeongguk."

"Byeol," he replies with a grin so cheeky it's impossible to remain poised.

You roll your eyes. Lie down. Wave your arm in the air. "C'mere."

He doesn't relent. Doesn't say no. Just stands. Walks to his bed, and flops down beside you.

"Gimmie your phone," you say, but he refuses. "Don't be a pussy."

"I'm not. You're just not getting my phone."

You sit up. Rest on your elbow and look down at him. His eyes are closed. "Why not?"

"Because."

There's a smile tickling your lips. He's imitating you - but he also doesn't feel like explaining. Doesn't feel like trying to find a valid reason beyond 'I'm scared'.

"What happened to facing your fears, huh?" You poke his cheek. "You gonna be a coward? How is that gonna help you?"

"Byeol," he whines, tilting his head to avoid your continued poking. It's annoying, and deliberate. You want him frustrated. Want him proactive. Want him a little riled up. "Stop."

You don't.

"Byeol."

"I'll stop when you stop being a baby," you tell him, poking at his other cheek. Your finger travels all over his face, poking and prodding, ignoring the way he bats you away.

"Stop."

"You stop."

"Byeol."

And still, you don't. At least not until his fingers clasp around your wrist, holding it far away from his face.

"I said stop," he says with a voice so low it's almost a growl. His eyes are still closed. He pulls your hand to his chest. Holds it there. Is vaguely aware of the fact he's drawn you closer. Had almost made you lose your balance entirely.

It's not until you speak that he realises quite how close you actually are. Hears how quiet you are, too.

"And I told you to stop being a baby."

He opens his eyes. Takes you in. You're resting on his chest, thanks to his grip on your wrist and where he's positioned it. Neither of you seem to remember the concept of breathing.

You're close . Closer than he intended. So close he could probably count every single speck of glitter on the inner corner of your eyes. So fucking close . He thinks of the last time you were this close.

Also thinks of the fact he's now wearing sweats, and really shouldn't be thinking about you naked. Not again.

But he is, though it's not your body he's thinking of; it's your eyes, and the glitter that had been caught in your lashes beneath the water of his shower. How you'd glistened. And then fuck it, he's thinking of the way you showed him your fingers, all dainty and pretty, covered in your own-

"Fuck," you hiss in surprise, breaking from his gaze. His eyes fall to his chest, where the culprit of the interruption lies.

Another bird; resting pretty just below his ribs. It moves, up and down, with the contractions of his lungs. Jeongguk looks to you, then back to the bird. You sit up straighter and pinch it from his chest. He just lets you, because he doesn't wanna be the one to do it.

He can tell from the wing shape alone that it's one of yours - and even if he couldn't, the way you groan and let your body fall onto his in defeat is a clear sign. He laughs. Strokes his hand up your arm, then ruffles at your hair.

"How bad is it this time?"

You just whine again.

"That bad?"

Nodding into his chest, you hold out the bird for him to take. Only once his chest begins to stutter beneath you, laughter taking hold of his lungs, do you sit up.

"Stop," you tell him, pouting.

He doesn't stop laughing. Serves you right for not listening to him earlier. "Christ, Byeol. Are any of these birds-"

"No," you cut him off before he can finish.

He sighs. Looks up at the ceiling. Shakes his head. Holds the bird to his chest.

"Let's think about this logically first," he says, because it's the only way he can think to not let things get out of hand again like he did last time. "Let's talk about it before we do it instead of after."

You nod. Take a deep breath. "Okay. What are you thinking?"

He looks at you and then back up at the birds. Scrunches his face up.

"I'm thinking... Fuck, alright, I'll be honest. I haven't done..." he trails off, cringing at himself. "Since my ex - although, technically she isn't an ex, but you know what I mean - since her..."

You wait with bated breath. Know what he's getting at. "You haven't done this in a while?"

He's silent. Lets his head turn to face you. "Haven't done this in a while."

"It's okay. We don't have-"

"No," he says. "A bird is a bird. I want to do it."

"You do?"

"Well," he considers, pretending like it's the first time. He's thought about this a lot; the mechanics of your situation, how it plays out in the future. Risk assessment. He's good at those. Has to do so many of them at university that he's started drawing one up one for the pair of you in his head. "I mean if my birds are making me approach girls, chances are things will head in the direction of hooking up, right?"

You suppose he's right. Tell him as much.

"So it'd be good for me to get practise in, right?"

"You think you need it?" You grin.

"No. But I enjoy it," he says. Holds his palms up above his head. Observes them. "I like using my hands."

They're large. One of them is covered in tiny tattoos, the other completely bare. Thin veins hide beneath his honey skin, the tendons always protruding just a little bit. The kind of hands that would be good to hold.

"You've got nice hands," you admit.

Long fingers. Thick knuckles. Well-trimmed nails. Perfect hands, you consider, but will never divulge. Wouldn't want to boost his ego so much.

"Have you been checking them out?" He teases.

"You made me!" you laugh, deflecting, then imitating his voice. "' Look in the mirror, Disco Ball, blah blah blah. Eyes on me. Watch what I do.' I didn't have a choice."

"Sure," he taunts, but he knows you're probably not being dramatic. He really did make you watch yourself, and is probably gonna do it again. Seemed to work well the last time.

He places his hands beneath the side of his head, and takes a moment to check how you're feeling.

You reciprocate his actions. Look at him for a little while. Neither of you say a word. It's like you're mentally preparing for what's about to happen; making sure that it's okay. Giving one another the chance to back out.

You won't, though. Far less of a coward than Jeongguk. Too much pride.

"How do we do this?" you whisper.

He smiles. Just faintly. Tenderly. "However is most comfortable for you."

"Well, yeah," you smile back. It's sweet that he feels the need to clarify this. "But I mean, literally. Logically. How do we- Like- Do I just... take my trousers off?"

"I mean, it could be a start," Jeongguk laughs. "We're thinking about it too hard."

You groan. Look to the ceiling with an embarrassed smile. You're both a little awkward, but it definitely feels like the awkwardness is mainly your problem today.

"Did you... with Jimin. Did you do this?" Jeongguk asks. He's not sure why. Just wants to know.

The bird lies between you both. Has just two words on it. No exclamation points this time, but still with capital letters. Somehow feels less vulnerable to you than the last one.

GET FINGERED.

You consider not answering. Think it's kind of shitty to air Jimin's laundry in such a way - but it's just as much about you as it is him. More so, even.

"Not really," you admit. "A little bit. I hurried him along."

Jeongguk pauses now. Thinks. Asks, "hurried?"

"It's just kind of what I do," you sigh, pulling your knees a little further up. Closing off. Protecting yourself. Jeongguk pushes them back down again. You let him. "I don't really let people touch me, in that regard. I let them fuck me. Don't let them... have me."

Jeongguk wants to ask what that entails, but figures you'd have shared it if you wanted to.

"I guess," you continue slowly, quickly glancing away, before deciding that his eyes are what you wanna see when you explain your relationship with sex. You want him to understand - and so you look back to him. He doesn't take his eyes off of you. "I kind of focus on the other person, yanno? For me, sex? Now? It's validation, I guess. Proving to myself I can still give people some form of... I don't know. Satisfaction? So yeah. I don't really want people touching me, as such. I'll touch them. I'll get them off. And I'd prefer it if they didn't get me off."

"It's a power thing, isn't it?" Jeongguk theorises. "Control?"

You're silent. Just shrug. Maybe .

"I think - and you can tell me to shut up if you want - but I think that maybe it's because of your ex. He always held the cards?" Jeongguk pauses, but you don't respond. Just look at his chest. Toy with the silver chain around his neck. "And this is your way of holding them instead?"

The silence remains. You're twisting his chain around his neck, now. Getting the clasp to the nape of his neck instead of at the front where it had been. Jeongguk watches your unfocused eyes and wonders what the fuck is running through that disco ball mind of yours.

"Hey, Byeol?"

"Mhmm?"

"You're still in control," he says so tenderly it's almost a whisper. He reaches over. Picks a rogue chunk of glitter from the strands of your hair that wisp around your face. Tucks the hair behind your ear. Lets his hand fall to chin, and tilts your face upwards. Looks you dead in the eye, and says, "I'll do whatever you're comfortable with. Nothing more, nothing less."

You shake your head. "You get a say in this. It's not all up to me."

"I know I do," Jeongguk replies without missing a beat. "If I didn't want to do something, I wouldn't. You're in control, but I can't be forced to do anything. Good luck trying if you think I can be."

You narrow your eyes a little. "So you're saying you want to do stuff with me?"

He grins. "Well, I don't find you entirely repulsive, even if you are incredibly annoying."

"Always a charmer."

"It's how I get all those girls - oh, wait," he jokes. Pauses. Thinks. Sighs. "Look, I'd rather work through my issues before I fuck up yet another relationship, and from the looks of it, you'd rather work through yours too. It just makes sense."

"I mean, we could just get therapy."

"Expensive."

"Time-consuming," you agree.

"This is far easier," he smirks, before deciding that you've had enough serious chats. There's no point running around in circles again. And so he decides to lighten the mood. "Now do you wanna get fingered or not?"

"Oh my god!" You slap at his chest and roll onto your back, laughing. "You're fucking vulgar."

"Is that a no?"

"It's an ' ask nicely, Jeongguk. '"

He rolls onto his back, now. Laughs, too. "Is that what you want? For me to play nicely?"

"You're not playing at all, yet," you remind him.

There's hesitancy from both of you. It's a little awkward, and so unlike you - but there's no alcohol in your system like there was the first time a bird was attempted, and no excuse to touch like there was with the paint.

This one is just you and Jeongguk.

"Can I go freshen up first?" You ask, a little nervous and highly aware of the fact you hadn't come with the intention of getting Jeongguk in your underwear. He says of course, but you're halfway out of the door regardless.

As soon as you're in the bathroom, you're rummaging around in the cupboard - praying - looking for a disposable razor of sorts. You know Jeongguk keeps his good one in his room, next to his towels.

Apparently, Jimin just loves to share regardless of what it is, much to Jeongguk's dismay. It's not like Jimin's razor is here either - he's taken it with him to Busan.

Your search is fruitless, and when you return to Jeongguk's room a little unsure of yourself, jeans off and tossed onto his desk chair, he can sense there's something wrong.

"I haven't shaved," you sort of blurt out, much to his surprise.

"Okay?" He grins, drying off his wet hands that he'd washed in the kitchen while you were gone. "Nor have I? You want a medal?"

"No, I just-"

"Thought I'd care?" He questions, a little bit offended. "First things first, this isn't about me. It's about you. And secondly, I kinda like it - so I really don't care."

"You like it?"

"I like pussy," Jeongguk simply states. "Like it no matter what way it's served up."

"You're not eating it."

"Not yet."

"You are unbelievable."

"Believe it, Byeol," he winks, perching on the end of his bed. Reaching out, he encourages you closer. Gets your standing between his legs. "Enough fucking around though. I think we should set out some ground rules."

"Ground rules?" You question, knowing it's probably smart. Aren't sure why you didn't think of it first.

He knows why. Casual sex isn't that much of a big deal to you.

Jeongguk's not good at the whole unattached sex thing, though. He only really sleeps with girls he's interested in romantically.

A boy that looks like him? You had expected him to have well over a dozen notches on his bedpost - but he can count them all on one hand.

It's not that he's a prude, or vanilla, or anything like that. Jeongguk fucks. He fucks well. He just fucks the same people for extended periods of time. Takes comfort in routine. No chance to sleep around when you're as loyal as a dog.

You're the exception, not the rule. Time and time over, it becomes more and more apparent.

"Rules," he nods.

"No kissing," you reply almost immediately.

"No-" he's about to protest, but then nods. "No kissing."

In fact, he actually agrees with you. He loves kissing. Might even like it more than blowjobs. Would happily take an hour make-out session in lieu of foreplay. For him, it is foreplay.

And so despite how desperately sad he is to know he won't get his favourite thing, he understands why.

He only likes it because of how intimate it is.

"Anything else?"

You take a moment to think, and then decide, "No hand holding, either. And no pet names."

"Not even Byeol?"

"At this point, I'm not even sure you remember my real name, Gguk. Byeol is fine."

He nods, then scrunches his nose in a little disgust.

"God." He dry-retches. "Imagine calling you something like baby ." He retches again, a light grin tickling his lips as you scoff in offence. "Yeah, no you wouldn't suit anything cute."

"You're so lucky that the idea of you calling me baby repulses me," you flirt right back.

"Oh yeah?" he smirks - and then he's toying with the hem of your shirt. Pushing it up. Ghosting the lace of your thong with the tips of his fingers. "You'd hate it, would you?"

His fingers creep down. The pads of his fingers trace the tops of your thighs. Skirt the lace trim of your panties where they cover your pussy. Has your heart beating at a mile a minute.

"Would be such a turn-off."

The way his eyes scan your face has you wanting to take back every single rule you've just set.

"So you're telling me you're turned on, now?"

His words are met with a shrug. "I don't know, Jeon. Am I?"

"If I'm not allowed pet names, there's no way in hell you're allowed Jeon."

"No?"

He stands. Towers above you. Turns you round. Lowers his head, and lets his lips ghost your ear. "Not unless you wanna get me hard."

You fucking giggle . It's sin. When you turn your head ever so slightly to whisper in his ear, he thinks about saying fuck it to the birds. Needs more than what they're providing.

"I can feel you. You're already hard, Jeon ."

He pulls away from you. Palms at his crotch. You're right. And so he just smirks. "Fine. Harder ."

"Wouldn't that be a shame," you tease - but are met with a show of dominance you've haven't seen before from Jeongguk as clasps both of your wrists together just above your ass. Positioning you just where he had you last time he was in your room, you know your underwear is getting ruined.

The view reflected back in his full-length mirror only makes your heart beat even faster.

"I won't lie," he swallows back the nerves that he was able to hide while he was flirting. Down his throat they go, settling next to his heart that's already beating a mile a minute. Positioning himself behind you, he encourages you both to the floor. You're sitting in front of him, as he kneels behind you and pulls you back a little. "You're right. I'm already real fucking hard, Byeol."

"Really?" You smirk. "Couldn't tell."

He tilts his head back. Groans. "God, I hate you. I want you to ignore it, okay? It's my problem to deal with."

All you can do is nod.

"Okay," he says softly as he leans around to position your legs how wants them: bent at the knees. Spread. You're on display - and Dear lord, what a treat for the audience. A treat for him . "Look in the mirror. Watch me, okay? Watch my hands."

And you do; watch the way his palms lay flat on your knees, then slowly, gradually, trickle down your thighs. "What do you say if you wanna stop?"

"Chess," you say, ending the word with a gasp as his thumbs brush the outer lace of your panties.

"Good girl," he hums into your ear, but you can barely hear him over your beating heart as his thumb begins to stroke over your clothed pussy. You're already soaked. It wets his thumb. Has him smirking. "Told you so."

He pushes the lace to the side. Exposes you. Makes him curse. Is slow as he sinks a single finger into you.

He keeps it shallow. Just the first two knuckles. Just enough to let you know he's there. You can still see the ink on his finger.

The moan you exhale is desperate. Needy . Gets him all smug.

"Just testing the waters," he husks into your ear as he pulls it back out, before the pads of his fingers begin to massage around your entrance. He's teasing. Caressing. Doing shit you've only ever had women do to you. The dudes you've fucked have never really cared for stimulation beyond the clit; haven't understood that the right touches in slightly different places can get you so fucking needy.

Needy like you mean it. Not the bratty kind, where you're in control; the pathetic kind, where they're in control.

He's massaging. Using his thumb and forefinger. Working his way up your labia; left side, then right. Up, then down.

It's not like the sensation is anywhere close to what it feels like when his fingers are elsewhere, but it's the fact he's doing it all that really gets you flustered. He's careful . Delicate. Wants you to feel good.

When you let out a moan, you can feel him smirk against you. He lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes his middle finger inside; fully this time. Pumps into you once, twice - "are you always this wet?" - then begins to stroke against your front wall. You whine.

He pushes into you again. Tells you how fucking hot you sound. Pulls out. In again. And then he builds speed. Fucks his finger into you. Just one - but it's enough.

Finally, you answer him between laboured breaths.

"Dunno. You'll have to do this again sometime and figure it out."

Withdrawing his finger, Jeongguk rubs small circles over your clit. Holds onto you tighter. Smirks as your whimpers begin to build. His nose nestles into your hair, lips against your ear. "You want that, huh?"

The way your hips push up and grind against his languid movements should be indication enough - but you don't want to give him the satisfaction. Not yet, at least.

You smirk right back. "Meh. You could always just compare notes with Jimin, instead."

He pauses for a split second. Scoffs. Sinks his finger back into you. Builds pace. Can hear the sounds of your soaked cunt and knows that it would be cruel to compare. Jimin wouldn't stand a chance. There's no way he had you like this, too.

And Jeongguk would be right. The way Jeongguk has you now is unlike any of your hookups. You're sober, for a start, and that always helps in the wetness department - but you are wetter than you've been in a fair while.

His fingers are long. Intentional in the way they move. His middle finger hits all the right spots as it pushes into you. He curls it gently without needing to be told. He just knows. Can feel the slight difference in texture. Had trained himself to find it in the past, and is pleased to see yours is just as easy to locate.

You don't think Seokjin ever found it. Not really. For a while, you pretended he could - but it never felt like this.

"Gguk," you rasp, ridding your mind of all thoughts of Seokjin. He's no right to be in your brain when it's someone else making you feel so good. "Right there. Right there. Fuck."

"I know," he husks. "Can you take another?"

All do you do is nod. Moan something incoherent. You want more.

He can tell.

"Can you take three?" he asks. You just fucking nod. Will take what he gives you. "Mhhm?"

He bites down the syllables, stopping the 'baby' he wants to mewl from coming out. He knows pet names are a no, but it's a force of habit. It's just like the muscle memory in his fingers knowing how he should touch you; something well trained, well practised.

He doesn't relent. Keeps going. Has your cunt stuffed with his fingers. Will make you cum.

It's just as much for him now as it is for you. He's watching your face, how you refuse to open your eyes, how your dewy lips are rested ajar, soft moans humming from your throat.

He kind of hates the rules. Knows they serve a purpose, and that they're smart, but it'd be so much easier for him if he could kiss you.

It's not that he actively wants to make out with you, it's just that it comes naturally to him. He doesn't think he's ever been inside a woman without actually kissing her. There's a sizable portion of his brain which is having to work against his instincts, now. If he didn't have to waste that energy, he could spend it on you instead.

But it also makes it exciting. A little sordid. You've removed the romance he typically associates with a position as promiscuous as this. Maybe he is capable of fucking around.

"I know," he husks as your body writhes beneath his touch. "Ba-" Shit . "Byeol, I know. That feel good?"

Feel good? Feel good? What kind of a fucking question is that? If you could form a coherent sentence instead of moaning every other second, you'd ask him as such. Instead, you settle with, "fuck."

"Should I take that as a yes?" he smirks against your hair, his second hand dropping from the grip it has on your waist down to your pussy. Pushing your thighs a little further apart, Jeongguk has you in the palm of his hand like a fucking ragdoll. His hands work in tandem, fingers plunging into your while he rubs dainty circles over your clit, careful to not be too aggressive. He's taking his time. Building your high.

"Take it as a 'you could do better'," you whine, just to wind him up a little. He's doing fucking fantastic.

" Better ?" He sounds offended, but is smirking, watching pleasure take hold of your features. He loves the way you goad him on. Knows you must be a right little brat in the right scenario. Think maybe one day, he'd like to experience it fully. For now, he simply growls into your ear. "Open your eyes. Look at yourself." He builds his pace. The sounds of him sliding into you are lewd. Soaking. Sopping wet. "You hear that? Tell me to do better again. Go on. I dare you."

Your gaze opens, all hazy and cum-drunk, falling on the mirror. Your skin is dewy, and the incident positioning of your spread legs puts you on full display.

Jeongguk withdraws his fingers. Spreads your lips open. Holds his stare on you. Watches as your wetness drips from your entrance. Rubs circles on your clit. Encourages more . Watches as it seeps from you. Presses his hips upwards to let you know he's still fucking solid for you. He gathers your leaking slick on his index and middle finger, then pushes it back into you.

He's panting, too.

And so you smirk. Watch the pained lust in his eyes. Tell him, "do better," in a hushed whisper.

He's slow. Lets his touches linger. Doesn't pump into you like he had been - instead, he scissors his fingers ever so gently - and that's when you decide he's a menace to society and that you're probably doing the world a favour by keeping him off the streets for a little while longer.

"Holy shit," you hiss, and then your fingers are wrapped around his wrist again. He fucking laughs.

His nose nuzzles into your hair, his smirk not hiding his teeth. He's thinking about kissing you again. Just a small one. On the side of your head. Has to talk just to stop himself.

"That better, Byeol?"

All you can do is whine. Nod a little.

"Can't hear you. I asked a question. Give me an answer," he teases. "Now, is this better, Byeol?"

"No," you lie. "Considerably worse."

"Fine," he says, and pulls out. Grips your thighs with his soaked fingers. Squeezes them together. Lets you pant for a little while. He's panting, too. "On your knees."

"Sorry?"

"You will be," he smirks, changing his position behind you. "Get on your knees."

And so you do. You relinquish trust to him. Feel like you might have a heart attack from how fast it's beating - but he knows this. Strokes the curve of your hip. Hugs you into his chest ever so slightly and says, "the minute it gets too much, or you decide you've done enough... just say the word, Byeol."

He nuzzles his nose against your hair. Likes the way it smells. Hugs you a little tighter, still.

You nod. "At least tell me how you want me, first?"

It's the mental preparation you need, much more than physical. He knows this. Knows that his teasing has a time and a place. What was okay a few moments ago would be too brash now - so he tries a little tenderness once more.

He waits for you to look at him. Not in the mirror this time, but head turned, eyes on his. The glitter on your eyes catches in the light. Reflects in his eyes. Puts stars in them.

"On your front. Head down," he says slowly, not wanting it to sound crude. "Ass up. Or just flat on your front, if you'd rather. Up to you. Wait-" He stands, holding out his hand for you to take. When you do, he pulls you up and guides you to his bed instead. Lets you sit. He still stands. "Just realised I was asking you to be facedown on the literal floor. My bad."

You don't say anything, just smile at the fact he realised it. Such a boy, and yet such a gent. He's trouble, there's no doubt about it. As your eyes study his face, he seems sincere - and so you turn. Lean forward. Stretch out. Face down, ass up.

"Fuck," he hisses and gets on his knees behind you. One of his hands grapples at your ass, fingers sinking into the peachy flesh. He strokes against the soft skin, and then asks, "how do you feel about spanking?"

You smirk into his sheets. Plunge even further into them. Raise your ass even higher. "It's not on the bird."

His fingers dig further into your cheek. You're mewling. He's getting delirious again. "Byeol..."

The way you move your hips ever so slightly is absolute sin . You know you're trying to make him crack. You know it's working. "Mhmm?"

He pulls you back. Presses the bulge in his trousers against you. He's still hard. Harder, even. His hands are on your hips, keeping you close, even as he retracts - before pulling you tight to him. Repeats. Ruts himself against you a couple more times.

"If one of those birds doesn't end with me fucking you-"

"You'll what?" you say with a sardonic smile as you twist your body around and out of his grasp. You're on your back now, reaching for his shirt, pulling him down.

He complies. Tangles his legs with yours. Lets his hand cup your heat. Toys with you. Teases.

"What will you do, huh?" You flirt. "Die?"

He smirks now, too. Knows that you're taking the piss. Quite likes it. Likes that you remember the shit he says when he gets too horny for his own good.

"Maybe," he husks, sinking his fingers inside you again. Didn't even get to have you how he wanted you, but he likes this. Likes the flirt. Likes how erratic your breathing gets.

"Guess you'll just have to - fuck - keep waiting for them to fall," you turn a little. Hook your leg over his hip. Grind against him. Ride his fingers. "See if you get what you want."

"I'm incredibly patient," he lies. Builds the speed he's fucking them into you at. Uses the hand that's not bringing you closer and closer to climax to hold your chin. Wants to keep you looking at him.

"Liar."

"I'll do this for hours if it means making you cum," he almost snarls over the sound of your moans.

You laugh. Stutter on the moans in your throat. Tell him good luck. Let him know that you can't remember the last time someone else made you orgasm. You can do it yourself, easy. Someone else? Good fucking luck.

"Fine. We're gonna make you cum," he says as if it's a group activity - but then he drops his grip from your chin and reaches to the hand of yours that had been hooked over his shoulder. Guides it to your pussy. "Get yourself off."

You stare at him for a moment. His pace eases, but his gaze doesn't drop. He's slow. Rubs at you just in the right way. And then he says, "get yourself off while I'm inside you."

You say nothing. Do as you're told.

"Good girl."

It doesn't take long. If anything, it's embarrassing how quickly he has you coming undone. Admittedly, you're just as much a part of it as he is. Without your input, maybe he would have had to have been going for hours.

But you are involved, and you're shaking around him. Legs trembling. Toes pointed. Head buried into his chest, fingers wrapped around his wrist to stop him from overstimulating you too much. His name escapes your lips as your orgasm ripples through your muscles, and Jeongguk just fucking laughs.

"So fuckin' hot," he praises, lips pouty, in desperate need of a kiss to offset the fact he's practically leaking precum into his pants.

Rules are rules, though. They're not made to be broken. Not these ones.

He withdraws from you, and wipes the mess on his sheets. Will deal with it later. Watches you as you giggle to yourself, orgasm well and truly delivered. When your eyes open and focus on him, Jeongguk is pleased. You look content.

"I'm still scared," you simper. "We might have to practise that one a few times."

He laughs now, too. Rolls onto his back. Can smell your arousal on his fingers. Has never been more hungry in his entire life.

"Such a liar."

But you both are, in your own ways.

"Maybe. Thank you... for that," you say, very aware of the unfair dynamics of just you getting off, but knowing that without a fallen bird to specify it, there's no way you can just reciprocate.

"Pleasures all mine," he says, as if he isn't letting himself get severely blue-balled. Knows what the agreement is though. You getting him off now would be just for his benefit. He laments the fact he's not scared of blowjobs. Wishes all of his birds were like yours, now.

The silence consumes you both. Has you wondering why you never come undone like that normally. Makes you think maybe you need to stop preventing people from touching you in such a way. Jimin had tried. You can remember - but you'd dismissed him.

He's not the only person you've dismissed in such a way. Perhaps you will enjoy casual sex more if you don't keep your desires at bay. Maybe Jeongguk's been right about this all along.

"Anyways," you turn to face him. "Phone."

"Hmm?"

"Well, we've done my bird. We need to do yours from earlier."

Jeongguk says nothing. Is a little bit confused. He's still hard. You've barely come down from your orgasm. Surely nows not the time?

You couldn't disagree more even if you tried. It's the perfect time. Stops you from thinking about how fucking good that was, and how much you want it to happen again.

"You... want me to invite a girl round?"

"Well, not while I'm still here" you consider. "Like, text them now, but arrange it for another time."

"Yeah, but-" Jeongguk wants to protest. Wants to remind you that his sheets are covered in you. Instead, he just looks at the ceiling, a little baffled.

"If it's too much, why don't you just text a girl, at least?"

He frowns. You don't notice, because you're looking at the ceiling, too.

But then he sighs. Maybe you're right. Maybe he is being a coward.

"Alright," he reaches for his phone from the nightstand. Unlocks it, and opens up his Instagram DMs. Looks over to you. Catches your gaze. Smiles, despite the uneasy feeling in his stomach. "What do I say?"

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

#jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic

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the-sweet-hibiscus · 6 months

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On the Topic of Christina Strain & SaB

So while browsing the hellscape that is Twitter today, the first thing you see in the Shadow & Bone Fandom, is this exchange between Christina Strain (a producer/writer on the show) and a fan.

And I didn't think this would be necessary to say, but this is EXTREMELY unprofessional on the part of Christina.

But I do want to take the time to look and explain WHY from the perspective of someone who is a professional creative by job description. Christina, openly, speaks about her time as a writer on Shadow and Bone. Which is well within her right, as a creative, many times the appeal of following is for behind the scenes takes, more insight into writing decisions, and generally furthering the interest in a show / property after it has concluded. Especially if the conclusion was incomplete and/or canceled before the full story was told.

So here we have a situation.

The Question:

So the question Merel (the fan) asked was about the obvious sidelining of Alina Starkov, our main character. It's not an opinion that Alina was sidelined, it's been observed numerous times, most recently in this collider article talking about / reviewing the blatant reduction of character for Alina.

Merel's question, originally was about S3. Specifically, where was Alina, was there ever a plan for her? Originally, Christina just said, there was nothing written for Alina, and she had a vague idea of a separate storyline.

To which, Merel responded with the wide-spread rumor that Six of Crows, had been rejected by Netflix three times. For reasons not relevant — that rumor isn't true. But she also expressed frustration, as since the announcement of the show's cancelation, Christina specifically has given an overwhelming amount of attention and care to Six of Crows, while not seeming to have any real passion for the Shadow and Bone property or it's characters. Christina's response starts out professional. She clarifies, Six of Crows was not rejected (aka the rumor wasn't true) and that she didn't have control over that decision, which is true.

Where Christina stops being professional, is the other half of her response.

The Response

Here is where so many people take offense, and find issue. Christina, openly shames the Darklina ship. Which isn't inherently bad, no one is forced to like a ship, however. It had NOTHING to do with the question at hand. Just because a fan likes a certain dynamic, of a ship that at one point was canon, and likes to explore that, doesn't mean that they don't know what they're talking about when they're just asking about the future of a character. Merel didn't ask "Oh, how are you going to make this darklina?" She didn't even mention the ship. The only reason Christina even knew about Merel's shipping preference is because she either went on Merel's page or looked at the "Relevant People" column on Twitter for Desktop.

And now we venture into a much worse territory.

Bullying

Let's take a look at the power dynamic in this exchange.

Christina has 9.58K Followers on Twitter. Merel has 114.

Christina is a producer/writer on the show. Merel is a fan.

Christina has a self-appointed responsibility to promote the petition to bring her show back. Merel is a part of the larger community who supported the show. Christina is 42 years old. Merel is 19.

Instead of, ignoring the second response. Or even just clarifying the rumor and moving on, Christina decides that it'd be best to expose this account to harassment from her much larger base. Who responded in kind.

What was the reason? Truly?

Fans are supposed to only engage with a show if it matches how you specifically view it? They can't have questions, or criticisms, or thoughts? Because what was so mean about Merel's statement? What was insulting that Christina had to bring in shit that had nothing to do with the conversation? The rumor accusation? Is that worth getting attacked over? Is that worth attacking over?

The Correct Response

Move on.

No one would have an issue if the conversation ended a tweet earlier. Christina has over 9K followers, anyone could reasonably assume she was simply inundated with responses and couldn't/wouldn't respond further. Her first statement, was fine. To book fans, it may be frustrating, especially if they believed the rumor, but it was still a calm-ish response.

Merel could've been frustrated and that would've been the end of it. Instead, Christina decided her best course of action was to attack a fan, just because she enjoyed the same ship dynamic as people who were rude to her before. Decided to belittle that fan's interest in her show, bc she didn't like the way that fan interacted with them.

It's childish. It's gross. It's lashing out at someone b/c they want to know why the main character wasn't paid attention to in their show.

Anyway, it's clear Christina has a definitive disdain for the darklina fans of Shadow and Bone. It's clear she doesn't respect the people who support her show — unless they just unconditionally praise it. So that's it then. A disappointing end to Shadow and Bone, and an even more disappointing showing of character from the producers/writers.

#shadow and bone #darklina #writers #fandom culture #fandom things #just disappointed #imagine bullying someone 20 years younger than you bc they like the characters on the show you write

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donnerpartyofone · 11 months

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I saw this post a few weeks ago that was like a chart from a psychology text that described how different sorts of childhood trauma can produce different dysfunctions, one of which was (I *think*) Emotional Neglect -> Magical Thinking. I was so intrigued by that. Magical thinking is sort of an umbrella term for the belief in a causal relationship between two unrelated factors; it can include wishing on a birthday cake candle; the feeling that The Universe is telling you to call your ex because something reminded you of them; OCD-type rituals that you believe will ward off misfortune; the deeper meanings mis-assigned to mundane events that can be produced by schizo-affective disorders; and also religious convictions to some degree, although those are rarely considered a clinical problem as with anything that helps or doesn't seem to hurt the participants. There seem to be as many potential causes of magical thinking as there are forms of the thought pattern itself, and trauma is an interesting one.

It might be better to think of "trauma" as "helplessness" here. Magical thinking can help impose a feeling of organization where there is chaos and loss of any sense of significance. There was a lot of magical thinking going around in the gritty, depressed town where I'm from, and I often thought it was because of the persistent economic pressure. It's relatively normal for kids to be susceptible to spooky ideas, but many of the adults were also full of ghost stories and superstitions. I have one very sensible friend who is smarter than I am, who grew up there too, and we often reflect on this, which helps me know that this isn't strictly an idea I have due to my own social choices. My friend doesn't live in that town anymore either, but she's always digging up interesting stuff related to it, and one day she showed me the website of someone there offering his services as a paranormal investigator. He was in his 20s, and the site included a lot of unconvincing photos and a long, vigorous testimonial by the guy's mom. Part of me was dying to put it on tumblr, but it would only have resulted in unnecessary cruelty. I was as much a victim of magical thinking as anybody, and I think even when I was pretty young I was aware of what motivated me to be so naive and gullible: that a world full of ghosts and vampires and UFOs and such was preferable to what I normally experienced, which was a consistent sense of boredom and meaninglessness and drudgery and embarrassment and pain and suffocation in an ugly, flavorless universe whose nicer side was not going to be available to me. I had a lot of really damaging friendships with manipulative assholes and pathological liars because I was so very willing to believe the crazy things they told me, just in case any of them were true, because such a truth could change my whole life.

Sometimes I think it's amazing that I never wound up in a cult, although I guess those relationships were sort of like little one- or two-person cults. Once in a while I read about some crime involving young people who think they're vampires or something, and I have a deep feeling of pity, because I think I know what they were going through (except for the part where they think they can do whatever they want to other people). The sad story of Shanda Sharer involves a whole group of badly abused and underprivileged teens, some of whom thought they were witches or vampires, and it just makes so much sense to me that they would be overtaken by these fantasies of secret meaning and power. Recently I watched Bad Vegan on Netflix, something that I avoided at first because I thought it was just about rich douchebags humiliating each other--which is like, what else is new--and to some degree it is, but actually it's way more disturbing than that. Ambitious young raw food entrepreneur Sarma Melngailis was manipulated, isolated, and ultimately kidnapped by this sadistic freak who preyed first on her loneliness and financial fears by pretending to be a rich suitor who could solve all of her problems; then he preyed upon her feelings of personal insignificance and failure by convincing her that he and she had been selected by a cabal of extraterrestrial illuminati who would make them immortal. Sarma seemed completely broken down to me, and I was amazed by her courage in describing the scam she fell for, that she must have known would invite derision. Part of the documentary explores her youth as a kid who always believed she could become something special, and then mundane tragedies like her parents' divorce brought her back down to earth in a painful way, and it seemed like she spent the rest of her life haunted by the idea that she might just be an ordinary failure of a person. I think that's part of what made her so vulnerable to this psychopath, that he was able to access her secret dream of having a special destiny. I got one of my friends to watch the show and she was very frustrated by it because she just couldn't figure out what Sarma's problem was that would cause her to ever believe the things she was told. I tried to reiterate what I've said here, but it didn't seem to mean anything. Ironically this friend is a practicing witch with formal beliefs in the supernatural, including that people can awaken special powers within themselves, but I guess one man's magical thinking is just um not another man's magical thinking.

I still have a lot of magical thinking going, but it doesn't have the same character it once did. I tend to think of it more as "symbolic thinking"; I have a hard time accessing senses of meaning and hope, let alone any kind of self-belief, and sometimes symbolic gestures and concepts can provide that access better than my own direct, practical attempts ever could. It helps that I have a basic agnosticism about the invisible structures of the world, like it's easy for me to believe that there is more to life than what comes in through the five senses, even if I don't pretend to know entirely what that "more" is. That may help me believe that "anything is possible" and I shouldn't give up, even if I direly want to and I know I'm being kind of irrational. Magical thinking can be a double-edged sword, but maybe it's better than nothing.

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benkyoutobentou · 9 months

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How to study languages without studying

Whether you're just starting out and have had bad experiences with textbook learning in the past or are getting burnt out from prepping for the next proficiency test, it's never a bad idea to put the textbooks away for a time and just enjoy your target language. If you're new to the world of immersion, here are a few ways to get you started.

Follow along with the lyrics of a song. Spotify's not-so-new-anymore lyrics feature is great for this, especially since it has timed lyrics, but it doesn't have every song.

Expert mode: Write out the lyrics and underline/highlight/make note of all the words and grammar structures you don't know. Learn these unknowns until you can understand the whole song!

Extra challenge: Translate a song from your target language. I usually tend to stay away from translations in my study, but for those of you who aspire to be translators (or already are!), the poetic nature of song lyrics can be a fun challenge.

Watch a show or movie. Netflix has now introduced a feature where you can sort by language! If there's nothing made in your language that you're interested in, it also gives the option to sort by shows and movies that have the audio or subtitles available. Internet Archive also tends to have lots of foreign films that I'm looking for.

Easy mode: Watch with English or your native language subtitles. When doing this, try to still listen to what's being said and pick up on words and phrases that you know, or match new words with their translation in the subtitles. Note: reading one language and listening to another is a skill in and of itself! Don't be discouraged if you can't do both at the same time yet, you're brain is still making the connections in intonation and cadence of the language.

Hard mode: Watch with captions in your target language. This helps you connect listening and reading, especially in languages where the spelling isn't exactly phonetic, or it uses a different alphabet than what you're used to.

Expert mode: No captions or subtitles! But who knows, maybe you're better at listening comprehension than I am. Make sure you're getting comprehensible input here; some shows and movies are much harder than others. But above all else, watch what keeps your interest. A movie where you can catch half the dialogue but is super engaging is better for you than an "easy" movie that you're going to spend your time ignoring.

Polyglot mode?: Watch something in your target language with subtitles in a different target language. This adds just one too many layers of obfuscation for me, but if you're into the challenge, more power to you.

Watch YouTube. You can change your language preference on YouTube, and with that, the Explore section will give you recommendations in your target language. Going into the trending tab with your target language can give you a good idea about what people are interested in in the countries where your target language is spoken.

Read something. It can be a book, it can be a comic. There are plenty of webcomics out there in a number of languages! There's also probably an English language listicle with recommendations of easier to understand webcomics for learners, too.

If you're just getting started in immersion, you can choose whether you focus on intensive reading or extensive reading (this actually goes for all kinds of immersion, but is easiest to control with reading since it happens at your own pace). Intensive reading is reading with the goal of understanding everything 100%. If you don't understand a word, or a grammar point, or the reading of a character, look it up. Extensive reading is reading just to get the gist of things. Look up words and grammar points only if they stop you from understanding the general meaning of the sentence or section. And of course, the more you immerse, the less you'll have to look things up, but remember that difficulty varies between materials, even within books of the same age range, genre, and medium.

A small digression: If you decide that you never want to open a textbook on your language learning journey, more power to you! It can be done and I know people who have gotten to proficient levels of their target language without textbooks. If you want this to be you, extensive immersion is your best friend. You also might want to get comfortable with the flashcard program anki, because, if this is your goal, all those unknown grammar points and words will probably end up there. But at the end of the day, language learning is an intensely personal journey, and what works for others won't necessarily work for you. Finding what works for you is just part of learning a language.

Play a game. Lots of games are region locked (hint: Pokemon Sun/Moon isn't! If you start a new game, you can choose which language you want to play it in), but there are plenty of free online games still lurking in the corners of the internet. With a bit of googling, you can probably find something in your target language. Just the other day, I went out to find one of those hidden item games in Japanese and ended up finding an entire site dedicated to user made browser games.

If you're learning Japanese or Korean, picrew might be fun to look through as well. I noticed that plenty of picrews have basic anatomy vocabulary. I'm not super familiar with picrew myself, but the ones I've seen tend to be in Korean and Japanese

And lastly, don't fully give up on textbooks before trying them out. Don't be discouraged if textbooks truly aren't your thing, but studying a language on your own time can feel much different than studying for school. Don't put too much pressure on yourself and just have fun with your language. Additionally, if you'd rather learn in a video format, many languages have full courses uploaded to YouTube for you to try. Finding these can be difficult for some languages though, so don't hesitate to reach out to other learners and see what they recommend!

Got your materials ready? Great! Now go forth and immerse!

#inspired by someone's langblr intro post where they talked about hating studying #studying a language doesnt need to feel like studying #okay has anyone noticed that tumblr's post maker is broke as fuck right now #im having to rewrite so much because it keeps deleting my shit #langblr #language learning #polyglot #studyblr #studyspo #studying #benkyou posting #endangered and small language learners im sorry i got nothing youre stronger than me

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 3 months

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A/N ::: Down bad for this one today. He always kinda skeeved me out when he was a teenager but seeing him all grown up I was like, damn son. Come Netflix and chill with me. This is so much longer than I intended it to be, not sorry? But thank you for reading it! I really appreciate everyone taking the time to read my stuff and reblogging it if you do that, too! It would have been much shorter if I had been able to just sit down and not be called away from it 12.9 times. But it is what it is. Enjoy!!

*also: art by @/iluvluvnutella // permission for use was posted*

*also also: I purposely used a pic of Makoto as an ADULT. Yeah, I'm well aware the pic in the back is when he was a teenager. NONE of these HC's are about him when he was a teenager.

C/W ::: MDNI UNDER THE CUT, PLEASE.

〽️ Is very sweet.

〽️ Takes you out for ice cream (or whatever) once a week on your agreed upon date night.

〽️ Knows your favorite flower and will bring you one whenever he passes by them.

〽️ Likes to be touching you almost all the time when you're walking around town/shopping.

〽️ Isn't possessive or anything like that, but loves you so much that it's become second nature to him at this point to always have some part of him against some part of you.

〽️ Knows your favorite perfume (and your favorite cologne on him - he wears it because he knows how much it drives you crazy).

〽️ Likes the smell of your armpit.

〽️ Known to yank on his dick every opportunity he could.

〽️ Steals your panties (without your permission - but you still know about it and if it were anyone else, it would definitely bother you but it's your bf so whatevs.)

〽️ Has asked to be tied up more than once.

〽️ Suggests wax play quite often (but doesn't know your secret: he's almost convinced you to do it).

〽️ Has no preference whether or not he's on top or you are. Or in front or behind. Just loves to feel good with you.

〽️ Never really thought about anyone in particular while he jerked off (unless you count those women in magazines in itty bitty teeny weeny bikinis) until he met you. And as far as he's concerned, no one before you matters, anyway.

〽️ Likes to kiss you until you're a complete mess.

〽️ Is not above begging for you.

〽️ Wants you to tease him/edge him. (He's so pretty all sweaty and flustered, his skin flushed and bright pink cheeks, heavy, leaky cock.)

〽️ Will run his fingers all over your body and won't stop a second before you're whimpering and whining about how badly you need him to give you more.

〽️ Won't give you more until he's sure you'll cum just as fast as he does.

〽️ Has a pretty cock and knows it. (He's even admired it in all its glory.)

〽️ Is shaven because he likes how it feels and looks.

〽️ L-o-v-e-s sloppy blowjobs. Like, fluids all over the lower half of your face and upper chest.

〽️ Will make out with you after you're done (even if he doesn't cum, he'll still pull you up to kiss you).

〽️ Hopes you'll make out with him after he's done going down on you, too. (Not because he thinks it's "fair", but because he thinks it's hotter than hell.)

〽️ Sleeps nude.

〽️ Wakes up every morning with a raging boner.

〽️ Makes it well worth your while if you stayed over the night before.

〽️ Makes breakfast with organic and free-range animals because it "makes him sad" to think about their last moments on this planet being shitty. (Has been shut up by your counterargument about how they're last moments on this earth are being killed ... for food - how can they possibly NOT be shitty? And then you thank him for a delicious breakfast.)

〽️ Itadakimasu! (But with real food this time!)

@southside-otaku @viburnt @kazutora-kurokawa @katshimizuu @arlerts-angel @darkstarlight82

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers suzuki makoto #makoto suzuki #tokyo revengers makoto suzuki #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers headcanons #makoto suzuki headcanons #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers x you #tokrev x you #makoto suzuki x you #makoto suzuki x reader

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zombienation · 4 months

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hi! i used to roleplay a lot a few years ago and i'm trying to find people i can roleplay with again!!

uhm i don't really know what to say here because i'm not a very avid tumblr user but... my name is fia and i am 20 years old!

anyone 18+ is welcome!!

nsfw is welcomed but it doesn't have to be if that isn't your taste!! - i'm a bit experienced in nsfw having 9-10 years of roleplay under my belt (lol) so i often do spicy ones but anything is fine!

i typically write in third person and do 1 to 2 paragraphs. but bare with me because it's been a while!! but no one liners please!!

i'm open to trying so many new things and being introduced to new fandoms!! like o x oc, i do mxf and m x m typically.

¡ look for more long term plots but if we aren't feeling how it's going we can always switch! :

i enjoy a quality rp with all the plot twists and side characters we can imagine!

the fandoms i currently take part in are;

hannibal (nbc) (TOP FAV)

eddsworld (BIG TIME)

and YOU from netflix.

also harry styles/one direction!! (most of my old rps were about him)(and preferably i like to play harry!)

like i said i'm really open to trying anything, even original characters or celebrities!! i love cool rps, especially ones that have a fantasy factor. i've been known to dabble in the omega verse 🕺 i’m a sucker for bad boy tropes and really anything there is to indulge in! i put a lot of thought and personality into my characters :) as well as the people i roleplay with i like to get to know them and understand their boundaries and things they enjoy to have a fun time! so please please if anyone is out there willing to chat please contact me!! here is my discord:

sweetbambii

if this doesn't work feel free to contact my instagram specifically for roleplaying!!: sweettbambiii

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

….

or like this post and i’ll contact you!! 👏

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heyidkyay · 1 year

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I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name |

Part One

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: arguing, alludes to bad relationship with a parent

A/N: Someone asked for a bit of George fluff seeing as there isn't much out there atm, sooo I figured I'd make a short series because idk when to stop I guess. Additional note: This series is far from fluffy, pls make sure to read chapter warnings!!

Just a note, George isn't actually in this part, this is sort of a lead up..

Masterlist

“Alright, fucking out with it.”

Matty actually had the nerve to look over at me all confused, craning his head back to scrunch up his face, only further accentuating his many sudden chins. I raised a brow, I wasn’t backing down.

The two of us were currently sat in his living room, watching a film but not really. I’d invited myself over, having wanted the company of my best mate after he’d been away for so long, doing famous people shit, and Matty hadn’t complained. He’d grinned upon answering the front door and all but floored me in a hug, then proceeded to tell me all stories about the crap I’d missed out on at a hundred miles an hour whilst he’d lead me inside.

I’d been here for a while now, just over an hour or so, and we’d since made ourselves comfortable on his settee, my legs draped across his lap whilst he ordered in food.

We hadn’t spoken about the elephant in the room as of yet, but I wasn’t too fussed. Actually, I much preferred it when Matty didn’t strain to involve himself in all of my personal problems, which had always been something of a hobby to him. But he had been acting a little strange since his previous excitement had died down a tad, constantly checking his phone and purposefully avoiding certain topics I brought up.

I narrowed my eyes at him and dug my foot into his side, causing him to yelp and swat it away. I huffed out a light laugh, always having had a love for annoying him, before I resettled. “Come on, Healy, spill.”

I watched as he worked his jaw, obviously struggling not to spill it all then and there- but I knew him far too well and we both knew that he wouldn’t last long.

“Matty…” I sighed, but as I opened my mouth to continue on, his phone rang.

He looked all too grateful for the distraction which only peaked my interest further. He was definitely hiding something, that was for certain.

“Alright, Hann?” Matty answered by way of hello, fiddling with the cuff of my jeans as he replied to something Adam must have said in reply. I half paid attention to their conversation, eyes trained on the tele whilst they talked, but Matty didn’t give much away, just kept umming and ahing which was a little unlike him.

I had to tug my feet in towards me and tuck them under myself when Matty motioned to stand. I frowned slightly at the movement but it softened when he mouthed the question of ‘Brew?’ over at me, using his hand to gesture like the Queen as he held an imaginary teacup to his lips.

I nodded and gifted him a thankful little smile in turn, already knowing that he’d make it perfect.

One thing about Matty, he liked to remember all the small things. But we’d known each other for so long now that the way I took my tea was probably already engrained in his brain right there alongside his own. He puttered away and the film continued on.

We’d stuck on the first thing Netflix had suggested to us whilst we’d gotten to talking more in depth about what had been happening in one another’s lives, but I found it to be dragging a little now that I had the opportunity to focus on it more. Instead of opting to change it though, I decided to have a scroll through my phone, picking up on the quiet muttering of Matty’s voice which wafted in from the kitchen as I did.

He returned a short while later and gave me a grin, albeit a tired one, as he handed over my hot drink.

“You okay?” I questioned quietly, blowing at my steaming mug whilst he resettled, dragging my feet back onto his lap.

He heaved out a large breath, slumping into the cushions before he angled his head towards me, half of his face buried in a pillow. He groaned loudly in retort to my question and I couldn’t help the soft snort I made.

Carefully, I repositioned myself nearer to him so that I could ruffle his hair, then let my head come to a rest beside his.

“What’s happened then? Why you all- stroppy?” I asked him, wrinkling my nose as I waved a hand over his pouting face. “Has it got something to do with why you’ve been acting all strange?”

“‘M not stroppy. And you’re the strange one.” Matty quipped with a frown, his words muffled by the cushion. But then he sighed again and so I waited for his actual reply, hoping it would soon follow. “Hann just thought it’d be best to bring up studio times again, incase I forgot.”

I felt my forehead pinch. “Alright… but you’re not the type to forget something important like that and plus, you’ve just gotten home. I know Ad’s a tad bit tetchy when it comes to scheduling and what not, but still, even he probably wants a short break, no?”

Matty didn’t reply, only buried his face further into the plush pillow. It was a nice one to be fair, expensive looking, but only further proved that he was actively avoiding the question.

“Mattyyy.” I droned, shaking his shoulder. “Come on, why won’t you just tell me? Is it embarrassing? Did you piss yourself whilst bladdered and have a fan witness it? Or, ooh!-”

A hand shot up to cover my mouth before I could open it again and I quirked a brow over at Matty, who was mid eye-roll and chuckling faintly. “No more guessing.” He told me seriously, then shook his head as he exhaled. “It’s not embarrassing, and no, I did not fucking piss myself in front of any fans. Alright?”

His hand slipped away then, once he gotten the nod he’d wanted out of me, but as soon as he’d dropped his guard I was quick to snipe back, “So you did piss yourself then, just not in front of any fans?”

Matty grabbed at my ankles and started to tickle the bottoms of my socked feet, knowing it was my one downfall. I relented rather quickly, using all my strength to kick away from him whilst still clutching my tea. “Okay! Okay! I’ll leave it out, I swear! Uncle! Uncle!”

He hummed and reluctantly stopped the incessant torture, but I still swept my feet away from him just in case.

With a deserving scowl, I placed down my mug on the console, grateful to have only spilt a drop or two. “Why do you always resort to violence?”

Matty grinned victoriously in turn, seemingly very smug about the whole ordeal as he sipped away at his coffee. “‘Cause it’s the easiest way to get you to piss off.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Fine. I’ll stop, but only if you tell me what’s been messing with your head.”

Matty’s gaze flitted to the ceiling then and the room suddenly felt a lot smaller, quieter almost. He sighed softly, “Your birthday-” He attempted but I immediately cut him off.

“Is a day you’ve learnt not to celebrate. Because you know how much I hate it. Which means that the same celebrations that happen each and every year will continue to occur. As in, you gift me the usual chocolates and a cuddle, then not mention it at all.”

I turned to face the tv screen, crossing my legs underneath me so that I could avoid the obvious stare I felt burning holes into the side of my head.

“You’re so fucking stubborn.” Matty muttered under his breath, I shot him a glare but that didn’t seem to derail him. “I get why you hate it, I do, but it’s been years- you don’t even speak to her no more! Why let it ruin the one day that celebrates just you?”

“If you understood why, you wouldn’t be asking, Matt.”

Matty shook his head at me, clearly disappointed. “She’s a twat. Just forget about her, leave it in the past now. We both know it’d do you the world of good.”

“Oh yeah, and how do you suppose I just forget the woman that birthed me, hey?”

His lips pursed sourly whilst his gaze skirted towards the tele. I barrelled on though, never knowing when to give up, but now I was upset. I always got upset whenever she was mentioned. Triggered my fight or flight, I supposed.

“No, because I’d honestly love to hear it, Matty! How do I erase the one person who was meant to protect me from the world, huh? She couldn’t even protect me from herself!”

The silence that suddenly engulfed us was stilted and stuffy. I had to take a deep breath.

Matty and I had always been very alike when it came to the way we reacted to certain things. We snapped and bit back before we could think things over. We shared a lot of sore topics. But my biggest had always been my mum.

I released a heavy sigh and tugged a hand through my hair. I knew he was only trying to help. I really did. But, it was hard to realise that in the moment when all I really wanted to do was change the subject completely or just blow up at him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you.” I told him quietly.

He dragged his eyes over to where I was sat, sighing too as he let a hand come to rest on the cushion between us. I gave a half-hearted smile that I couldn’t really help, laying my palm flat against his. It was always something we’d done. Ever since we were kids. Our way of saying sorry, or, I’m still here.

“I didn’t mean to either.” Matty replied, squeezing my hand gently in his before shuffling closer so that he could pull both of them into his lap. “I just want you to enjoy it, you know? It's your birthday. No one should hide away at home, plagued by all those unhappy memories. You should be out getting pissed, or celebrating with us lot.”

Humming, I squeezed back. “I know. It’s just a lot to unpack, Matty. Not as easy as it seems.”

Matty pressed a chaste kiss to my knuckles, right where a faint white line started and stretched its way down the back of my hand. He shrugged.

“Carls and I just figured that you might be open to a dinner or something this year.” Matty told me gently, never looking away from our joined hands. “With your close mates, people who won’t sing happy birthday or get you a card. People who just want to celebrate you, yeah?”

I had to smile. I couldn’t not. It was dead sweet. And I thought it over, not saying anything for a few minutes.

“I think dinner would be okay.”

The grin Matty gave me in return, megawatt and beaming like the actual sun, was all it took to wash away those feelings of fear and resentment that I always held onto for a brief moment.

“Right.” He replied, still grinning away like the Cheshire Cat he was. Or maybe a man who’d just lucked out on the lotto. He burrowed his way into my side and I shook my head in amusement as I withdrew my hand to shove him off of me.

“Get off me, you oaf.” I chuckled.

“Oaf? Well, you can sod right off then!” Matty retorted, turning his nose up at me. “Had planned to have Ross make those molten cakes of his, but you can forget that now.”

I gasped in horror. “No! Not the chocolate ones!”

“Yeah, them." Matty taunted. "But it seems my efforts are under appreciated here so…”

“Matthew.” I admonished. “Please tell Ross to make them and- ooh! Get him to make those mini mousses of his, too? Please, please, pretty please?” I begged- and it was downright pathetic in hindsight yes, but if you’d had even a mouthful of this heavenly dessert then you’d understand. I’d willingly give up my firstborn if it meant that Ross would give me a lifetime supply. “Matty, I’m begging you here. I’ll love you for forever.”

He smirked but feigned a put-upon sigh as he slumped further into the settee cushions. The dramatic tart. “Look, I’ll rethink my decision if you help me out on this recent bridge I just started." He grew more serious all of a sudden, as he always did whenever music was mentioned. "Wanna see how a harmony would sound.”

“Fine, I’ll help. But I still want those chocolates you always get me, and a bottle of that fancy wine you like.”

Matty quirked a brow. “Thought you didn’t want any presents on your birthday?”

“They’re not presents. They’re bribes.”

He snorted. “Right. Sorry, got a bit confused there.”

I grinned, kicking my feet back into his lap once I'd shimmied my way back down the sofa. “Toss the remote, will you? This film’s so shit.”

“Glad you were the one to say it. Main character's a right wanker.” Matty commented, looking relieved as he threw the remote towards me. I tried to catch it midair but failed horribly, leaving the remote to hit the side of my wrist and nut me on the chin. Matty cackled merrily. “Only you, I swear.”

Rolling my eyes, I grumbled lowly back at him in retort.

It was just after we’d searched through the entirety Netflix and then Prime, that we finally settled on some shitty comedy to watch. One we faintly recalled watching years ago. The food had since been ordered and whilst we waited for it, I found myself remembering what had caused the start of our little tiff.

“You know, you never did tell me what was up.”

Matty frowned over at me. “Yeah, I did.”

I shook my head, sitting up slightly. “No, just mentioned my birthday and then we started arguing.”

He nodded slowly as it dawned on him. “Oh yeah, suppose not then.”

“So…” I prompted with a jut of my chin. “What was it?”

I watched closely as Matty dragged his front teeth over his bottom lip before his sights settled again on me, a little more confidently than I’d expected in truth. My forehead pinched.

“Well?”

“The dinner.” Matty begun, brown eyes flicking back and forth between my own.

“What about the dinner?” I quizzed, growing even more confused.

He clenched his jaw, looking at me as though he was trying to determine something. Something I couldn’t be quite sure of. He seemed to find what he looking for though, because a few long seconds later he just came right out with it.

“The dinner. I invited George to the dinner.”

Part Two>

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