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#so it just feels very disconnected from the show
snoozbin · 2 days
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kiss ban gn!reader x sungho ・ drabble college au fluff established relationship ・ cw kissing hickeys (NOT SEXUAL !!!!!) swearing ! wc 538
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sungho is the perfect boyfriend you could ever ask for.
from his jaw-dropping looks to his heart-warming personality, he always made you smile and appreciate your relationship. but—
he has a habit, a very up-and-close habit. kissing. or as he sees it "showing his love to someone he loves" this is mainly nice as everyone likes physical touch from their significant other, but this time it's bad.
very bad.
hearts pounded as you locked lips with sungho, his plump lips glossed with a thin layer of spit as the two of you were making out. his slender fingers playing with the ends of your shirt. kissing was a very normal thing to do every day as you couldn't help but melt into a puddle every time sungho pouted at you. you disconnected with sungho and stared into his eyes, such loving and doting eyes that could make you fall in love with him all over again. 
suddenly you feel his lips against your neck, giving you chast kisses down to your collarbone. "we have to go soon, sunggg.." you huffed out as you watched him continue to kiss you. "just give me a sec, wanna give you more kisses.." 
his lips sucked down on your neck. you didn't mind this as you were in the moment. 
soon after the kisses were done and you were ready to go to college that's when you realized what happened. "sungho. what did you do to my neck??" you froze, only looking at the mirror in front of you. "i didn't know it was gonna bruise up like that.." he was referring to a hickey on your neck. 
park sungho just gave you a hickey... ! when you were about to campus.
"i'm dead. i'm fucking dead sungho." you muttered, surprisingly sungho caught what you said. "maybe just cover up? or maybe put makeup on it?.." he advised you, but you frowned. sungho's hands clasped onto yours as his eyes looked into yours, showing pure empathy and anxiousness. "y'know i didn't mean to do this to you, right? i'm sorry babe, i just got too into it." he apologized. 
a sigh fell off your lips as you looked back at sungho. "it's fine, uhm, i can just wear a sweater." sungho nodded at your response, feeling bad about the hickey on your neck. "you better not feel bad right now sung, it's just a silly hickey. 'ts isn't gonna kill me!" you chuckle while zipping your sweater up. 
sungho didn't say a word and placed his arms around your waist, pulling you into his embrace. "i'm just so sorry." he whispered into your ear. "i know you are, and it's okay!!" you reassured him. 
your hands gently picked up your bags and headed straight to the door. "you better not be sad when i come back sung!!" "i won't, okay?" you nodded to his response and opened the door. 
"just so you know though —"
"you're on a kissing ban, till this thing goes away." sungho's eyes widened as you said that with a smile. "NOOOOO" sungho whined, a pout forming on his lips. "i might give you a kiss if you at least help get rid of the hickey." you giggled. 
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🐰 : sorry if this is bad. I'm trying to get into the groove of writing (TT)
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eponastory · 1 day
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I know you most likely already realized this, but I was just thinking about Aang as a father in LOK, and realized something. If Katara ended up with Zuko and eventually had children together, Zuko would likely end up being a better father than Aang. Aang never even met his parents, and only had instructors as parental figures. They're like parents but mostly just in the way that a school teacher would be. But Zuko understands what good parents and what bad parents look like because he knows what his own parents are like. His memories of Ursa and Iroh would be his guide to what you SHOULD do for a child, and Ozai is an example of what you should NOT do. Zuko doesn't have the pressure of repopulating firebenders because firebenders aren't virtually extinct, so there wouldn't be as much (if any) pressure to pay unfairly extra attention to one child over the other. Zuko knows what it's like to be neglected by a parent that's supposed to love because of something you can't control. Aang clearly doesn't, hence why he neglected Bumi and Kya II in the first place. Zuko also has experience with Azula, and would know to recognize any bad signs of sibling jealousy and/or hatred, and put an end to it because he knows what bad sibling dynamics look like.
I feel like he would also be a better husband to Katara. He's not as naive as Aang when it comes to marriage; Zuko has the experience of growing up with two married parents, and would know what not to do. Katara would relax better because the distribution over who watches the kids would be more fair, as Zuko would give them ALL attention. While Aang made Katara jealous from always being around the Air Acolytes (in the comics), I feel like Zuko would not give polite attention to women who are rude to Katara/flirting with him because in the show, Zuko knows exactly how hurtful it feels for a romantic partner to flirt with/give polite attention to people who are obviously pursuers. Imagine being in an alternate dimension where Zutara was the main endgame couple, and we get to see their parental dynamics in LoK. There would probably be a flashback of Katara getting worked up about one of their children, and Zuko would ease her into calming down because he sees a solution that she didn't.
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Aang's issues are more than he doesn't know. He is selfish by nature. Selfish parents aren't good parents. I know this for a fact. It's an endless cycle of 'It's your fault' or 'what about how I feel' every time you try to say something. It's not fun, and it's damaging. I can totally see Aang using this behavior as a way to get what he wants. As far as him being naive... yes. He is very naive and doesn't take anything seriously.
Like the war, for instance. He was only there for the last year of it. He wasn't born into the war like Zuko, Katara, Sokka, Toph, and Suki. They aren't naive. They know what war is like. Toph is the same age as Aang, and she is much more mature than he is. He's got this idea that killing anyone is bad, but he is responsible for a lot of deaths. Honestly, he has a kill count from the Fire Nation attack on the NWT, and a lot of people overlook that for some reason. Actually, the show overlooks it because Aang is the Hero, and it's okay if he killed people. So, when all is said and done, all of the things that he does afterward is overlooked too. It's a huge writing flaw with the show. So how does this translate to him as a parent?
It makes him a hypocrite.
Plain and simple.
He's so focused on reviving the Air Nomads that he has little knowledge on what they actually believed. What we are given is a few Taoist, Hindu, and Buddhist proverbs to go off of. Then, it's completely disregarded (disrespected as well) for 'Love'. This 'Love' is actually deep infatuation fueled by jealousy and possessive behavior. Which is actually frowned upon by the three religions mentioned above. It is a 'poison' to the spirit. And disconnects you from being enlightened (I think that is what the proverbs/scriptures are eluding too, if I'm wrong, please do not hesitate to explain, I'm super interested in cultures and eastern religions) or granted a place in Heaven (or their version of it). Letting go of all earthly possessions is common place in most religions. Aang does not do this. But I digress.
So, while there is the Nature vs Nurture aspect of parenting... where Katara does most of the Nurturing because that is how her character is written post-war and LoK. Notice how is said Written. Written by two misogynistic men who stripped her of a lot of her characteristics from the original run of the show. This is the problem. And it's the same with Aang. I can't take him seriously because he doesn't take any of it seriously. Especially with his children. He's not a serious character. He acts like he's serious, but he never really left the 12 year old boy behind to mature. Probably because in his fictional relationship with Katara, she enables him to keep doing what he always does. Which is to not grow. Relationships grow sour when the two people in them do not grow. It's not really about who grew up with parents at that point because it's the current parents that are the ones that should be to blame.
Now on to Headcanon space...
Zutara is a Headcanon ship. Did it almost happen? Oh yes I believe it did because the writing supports it heavily and Bryke's actions post show also scream 'lairs'. Sorry, but I have a pretty good Bullshit metor and Bryke set it off big time by their immature behavior.
But I digress.
Zuko grew up with a Narcissistic Sociopath as a Father and a Mother who was caught in the middle of a choice she was essentially forced to make. Ursa was also forced to forget her own parents never existed after she married Ozai. This is all canon, by the way. Her life before her marriage was great, but then it was taken away so she had nothing left but her morals and beliefs. However, while she loved both of her children, her influence on Zuko is essentially what made him who he is. Ursa didn't get to influence Azula like she did Zuko. Why? Because of Ozai.
Ozai pit his children against each other. This was apparently a Fire Nation Royal Family tradition because it sounds like Azulon did this with Iroh and Ozai as well. This kind of parenting style is abusive to its core. What Ozai did to Zuko isn't neglect... it's straightforward abuse and control. How do you make a child do what you want? You hurt them, or you take something away from them. Ozai both hurt Zuko and took away his home by banishing him. If Zuko wants to go back home, he has to find and capture the Avatar. It's that simple, but at the same time, it's also near impossible.
Flash forward to Canon Zuko and we see he has one child and he is a very loving father. Actually, he's the best father in the show. His experiences with growing up as the not so favorite child has made his choice to have one child easy. Probably because he and his spouse had a less than perfect relationship. This also may have influenced him to be protective of Izumi (as we can see he's still protective over her even at 90 years old) because of the loveless relationship his parents had. It was enough to damage him deeply when it came to relationships. This is likely also why he had trouble with Mai as well.
Headcanon space now...
Zuko loving Katara is what makes the difference here. Love is giving your partner the freedom to make their own choices and support them. As long as there is good communication, trust, and honesty. Something Maiko does not have, by the way. So it stands to reason that even with Nature Vs Nurture in the way of parenting, both win here. I'll tell you why Zuko's relationship with his parents here have no effect on why he would choose to have more children with Katara.
Because if written well, it's a very good relationship between them. We already know they work well as a team. The show gives us this. We know that Zuko absolutely cares about Katara. The show also gives us that. We also know they become lifelong friends. So why do they make great parents?
Because they rely on each other.
It has nothing to do with how they were raised individually, but everything to do with how they support each other narritively. They trust each other to make good decisions together. They rely on being honest with each other. They also communicate with each other. This by itself is the building blocks for a healthy and stable relationship. With that in mind, parenting is easier. There is no need to be afraid of becoming a bad parent because they hold each other accountable. It's a deep relationship. Having multiple children is easier because it is a loving relationship. There's no conflict besides the silly little arguments over simple things that happen all the time. It's just an overall healthy dynamic.
And that is what appeals to Zutarians.
While it was almost canon, I'm glad it isn't because Bryke would definitely not get it right. They tried to make Korra and Mako happen out of spite because they believe Zutara is toxic. It's not. Their children would turn out absolutely fine because Zuko would not change a thing about Katara. It's in the show. He doesn't try to change her because that's not his job. His job in TSR is to let her find closure. He offers it to her because he cares about her. Bottom line.
Anyway, I probably forgot what you said at this point because I just tend to go on and on, but I tried my best to stay on topic... ADHD is both a blessing and a curse.
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I know multiple of these are likely important to people, but I'm asking in terms of like - which of these do you tend to focus on the MOST, enjoy the most, that is most essential for you to actually care about the media, etc.?
(For example: someone finding "Relatability" most important would likely not enjoy a show much if they have trouble empathizing with the characters/relating to it, even if it were good otherwise. Or, someone might be able to overlook bad acting and ugly costumes, as long as the Character Dynamics are fun to them, because they value that more than Aesthetics- while for others, bad costumes would be a dealbreaker.)
Also feel free to reblog and explain your answer or more information in the tags- I've always been curious about people's relationships to media, how they conceptualize it/what they get out of it, how some people value some parts more than others, how that informs their overall taste and genres they may be more inclined towards, etc. :0c
#I was having a conversation with a friend about our favorite type of media and they said the reason they DON'T like historical or fantasy#media or etc. is because they can't imagine themselves being in those situations like it's too detached from anything that they can relate#to personally. they put themselves in the shoes of the characters and apparently like feel emotions while watching stuff and actually#get into the way the characters are feeling so they kind of judge how 'good' or 'bad' a show's writing/setting/etc. are by how it makes#them feel and if they think the characters reacted realistically based on what they were feeling in the moment/what in their head they#would be feeling if they were in the postion of the character. SO apparently the distance of it being in an unrelatable setting or too#detached from our reality makes it harder for them to relate to and less able to really engage with it on that level. WHEREAS I watch#things exclusively in a very like.. detached way?? I'm INTERESTED.. it's like im intellectually analyzing everyhting that's happening and#can be intrigued by events but it's not in an emotional way? More of like a distant 'intellectual curiosity'. Maybe the premise or the#aesthetics or something about it has piqued an interest for me to observe it. to see what it's like or how it plays out. how the idea#is executed or etc. But like.. I cannot remember EVER really relating to any character or situation or projecting onto a character#or having those sorts of feelings or investment in it. That is just not a central part of why/how I watch things or what I care about#BUT after this I was thinking maybe this is my disconnect? I do not seem to conceptualize media the way some other people do and I often#walk away with an entirely different take on things. etc. So I wonder if maybe it's part of how everyone values different things probably?#maybe I literally just watch stuff and percieve it from a different frame of mind that others. More of a like detached curiosity#vaguely bemused analysis mode. Instead of a 'I am deeply emotionally invested in this and am feeling for all the characters' mode#And also I bet people who care more about plot/story are also the people who mind spoilers. Whereas for me I literally seek out spoilers#intentionally because that element of 'suprise ooh what will happen next!' is not central at all to my enjoyment. I could know literally#everything that will happen and still can find it interesting to observe - since for me#that's not the point. I'd rather know the ending so I can determine whether I want to invest the time in it in the first place. etc.#ANYWAY!! If I had to choose - I would say I'm usually heavily focused on world details and aesthetics. With only a slight preference#towards characters individually being interesting. Group dynamics can sometimes be okay but I get tired of everything being about relations#hips and romance - especially when sometimes it seems to be like. people who could not stand on their own as a character/are fundamentally#boring otherwise lol. I would watch a series of just one guy locked in a closet talking to himself as long as he was interesting and saying#things that were amusing or notable for some reason lol. I actually tend to dislike plot because most 'plot heavy' things like action focus#ed shows ALWAYS feel to me like they're moving so fast just to get from one thing to another that I'm not getting enough details. Part of#why I tend to not like movies. the time limit makes them too quick. I need a 95 hour expostion dump of the history of the entire world#and a series of 17 episodes straight where a guy is trapped in a room & the audience is just psychoanalyzing him. hghj.. Maybe I find all#characters annoying/unrelatable bc people w my personality type make bad characters/are not often represented (or are done BADLY). so then#I'm just picking 'who is the LEAST insufferable? who could i study like a lab rat?' whilst my main focus is the worldbuilding&costumes lol
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arklay · 1 year
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seeing stars.
pairing: diana x albert wesker words: 7.0k warnings: migraine, nausea and vertigo, brief mentions of food and alcohol, internalised ableism [read on ao3] — [part one]
A long exhale sounded from the en suite bathroom. It wasn’t one of relief. No, it was strained, wavering as it left parted lips – the evidence of a day riddled with nothing but stress.
Wesker slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the mirror from how he had hung his head, his hands resting on either side of the basin. The figure behind his reflection caught his eye instantly – dark hair a stark contrast to the white doorframe its lovely owner was leaning against. She was simply watching him with this faint, barely-there frown strewn about her features.
Despite being rather annoyed at Diana for sneaking up on him, or more so at himself for not noticing she had done so, he was glad she had kicked off her heels under the dining table. The last thing he needed right now was the shrill clicking of those awful things on the tile floor.
His head already felt like it had been put in a vise and someone was turning the handle; he didn’t need more noise to aggravate it.
“Where are your glasses?” Diana asked, and Wesker could only wonder if he’d imagined the worry clinging to the edge of her voice.
Could she tell he was in pain? That his sunglasses weren’t just some fashion statement people liked to tease him for? Had she put two and two together so easily when most were too dense to?
Wesker’s eyes darted up to lock on to hers in the mirror, though for only a split second, before he looked down again with a small huff. “I don’t know.”
He’d truly had a shocking day. It had been one thing after another, and at some point he had taken his glasses off to rub his eyes then forgot to put them back on. It wasn’t like him to misplace his belongings, and certainly not his shades, of all things, but the stressors piling up ensured the whereabouts of where he’d set them down slipped his mind faster than he thought possible.
It had all started with that pig, Brian Irons. The initial cause of his foul mood. That poor excuse of a man had proven himself to be a thorn in Wesker’s side time and time again; the police chief thought he could undermine those ensuring his unsavoury past was kept under wraps, but Wesker wasn’t going to stand for such insolent behaviour. He made sure to discuss the issue with William during his visit to the NEST around lunchtime, calling for a shorter leash.
However, the day only seemed to continue to go downhill once he’d returned to the station.
The problem wasn’t simply the piles of reports taking up space on his desk; the image of Diana wouldn’t leave his mind. He shouldn’t have stopped by her lab with coffee and spoken to her at all. He needed his focus to be solely on his work. The way she could capture his attention was quite bothersome, really. And that prompted a rather foolish decision on his part – a phone call with plans for dinner.
It didn’t end there. The newest S.T.A.R.S. recruits were a headache in and of themselves, yet getting a call from Sherry’s school the moment he left work had been the icing on the cake. She hadn’t been picked up hours beforehand, and being the next emergency contact, Wesker was informed of such incompetence.
William’s obsession with the G-Virus was getting out of hand. He’d always been more preoccupied with his work than the people around him, but forgetting to pick Sherry up from school was something else. Something Wesker didn’t quite like.
Not to mention it completely ruined his plans for the night.
With a suppressed clearing of her throat, Diana pulled him back to the present. She pushed herself off of the doorframe and made her way closer towards him. “Would you like me to look for them?”
Wesker shook his head and immediately regretted it; the sudden movement made him wince as a short wave of splitting pain made itself known right behind his left eye, causing him to grip the edge of the counter until his knuckles went white. The pain wasn’t unbearable yet, and he was glad his typical nausea seemed to be at bay, but he had no clue how long that would last. Not long, if he had to guess, given his luck with the rest of the day’s events.
Taking a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth, he steadied himself. With each count, he found it easier to tolerate the ache, though it didn’t subside in the slightest. It would have to do though; he needed to get through his nighttime routine.
He reached over and slowly pulled his toothbrush out of its holder, making sure to not move more than what was necessary.
“No.”
Wesker glanced up at the mirror again with one of his brows quirked in genuine confusion, and he watched as Diana’s reflection inched closer. Then her hands were covering his. Why he found himself frozen at her touch was beyond him, but her soft fingers pressing against his skin was a welcome sensation.
She only pried the toothbrush and paste out of his grasp, far more gently than she needed to, then she placed them back to where they belonged.
“You are obviously unwell. You don’t need to brush your teeth when you feel like this,” she said, voice soft and oddly soothing, as opposed to the hammering against his skull.
Diana took Wesker’s hands in her own again, and her thumbs brushed along the raised veins on the backs of them in slow circles. It wasn’t just comforting to him, it was familiar, intimate, and the point at which he’d begun to embrace her touch rather than shun his craving for it was lost on him.
Her eyes finally landed on his own and she directed a small nod towards the door, making him aware of what she was about to do next. Then she took a step back. Then another. And she carefully pulled him along with her, guiding him towards his bedroom without so much as a word from him. Wesker couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. He didn’t know what to say, what to do, and with how tired he was, he could only let her take the lead. She seemed to have her mind set on making sure he would rest, and that made his chest feel much too tight.
It was almost as if she cared.
The trip to the foot of his bed felt much longer than usual. Diana’s cautious approach made sure of that. He was not intoxicated; she didn’t need to hold his hands and ensure he put one foot in front of the other. And yet she did. He felt like an absolute fool, but he still let her pull him along, regardless.
Once there, Diana sat him down on the edge before she quickly knelt down in front of him, tucking her legs beneath herself as she did so. Her attention went straight towards his boots and deft hands worked to untie their laces.
Wesker couldn’t quite wrap his head around her behaviour. He wasn't sure what to think. On any other day, he would’ve thought her kneeling between his legs quite amusing, especially with how she kept roughly pushing her stubborn tresses that kept falling in front of her face back behind her ears. But his head hurt far too much, and there was just this horrible warmth searing through his chest and up his neck, settling across his cheeks and threatening to join the burning at his temple.
The question in her eyes whenever she’d glance up at him certainly wasn’t helping either. It was almost wary, as though looking for permission to continue. Or perhaps assurance.
Her fingers wrapped around his ankle, carefully grasping it as she pulled off his boot. That made him feel far too odd, but she only repeated the action with its counterpart. He was thankful for the way she placed them next to one another by his bed though, all nice and neat, instead of simply tossing them to the side like anyone else would.
Diana pushed herself up off of the floor using her palms and moved to stand between his legs. Soft hands reached forward to cradle his face, the cool pads of her thumbs brushing along the high points of his cheeks. But she was only looking into his eyes, searching for… something.
He wasn’t quite sure what she was doing, to be completely honest. However, the repetitive movement along his cheekbones was calming, almost strangely so, and he hated that his eyes threatened to flutter shut and his hands itched to reach out and hold onto her sides – perhaps even pull her closer, if he dared.
How could she draw such a reaction from him? Especially given the circumstances.
The last thing Wesker needed was for her to look at him like he was some injured animal; he didn’t want her pity. It was enough that he let her drag him out of the bathroom when he was in the middle of carrying out his routines, as though he was caught in some sort of trance. But to look at him in such a way, to help him undress… It was ridiculous. He didn’t need to be fussed over.
Wesker reached up and closed his hands around her wrists. His grip was tight, though not enough to hurt her – merely cautionary, much like the glare he sent her way. Astute as she was, he had no doubt she would get the message.
Diana’s fingers fell away from his cheeks, curling in on themselves, but she didn’t move to break the distance between them. She only continued to hold his gaze, eyes still scanning his own in search of some answers, even as he loosened his hold on her wrists.
It had been wishful thinking, anyhow; he should’ve known she’d remain defiant.
Wesker pulled her hands further away from his face while he slowly rose to his feet. Then he let go, making them drop to her sides in a rather lifeless fashion. He didn’t miss the question in her eyes, or the way a crease formed between her brows, but he simply focused on manoeuvring around her towards his dresser – unsuccessfully at that, as his side brushed against hers with how he staggered.
Movement made the pain behind his eye considerably worse. The familiar sensation of tiny knives stabbing, leaving puncture wounds in their wake to obscure his vision, made it incredibly hard to keep his eyes open any longer. Wesker took a deep breath to try and steady himself, keeping as still as could be so as to not cause himself more pain. If only for a moment of relief.
One of his hands settled on the surface of the dresser while the other moved to open a drawer. He hoped Diana didn’t see how he fumbled with the pull handle. He wasn’t even sure why that bothered him. But he moved to correct his error far too quickly, causing him to lose balance slightly.
The sight of plain black, white and grey t-shirts folded up and sorted by tone brought some level of structure back to the chaos that had been Wesker’s day, and it pleased him more than it probably should have. The shirts were simply for when he was too cold to sleep shirtless – he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing them casually, otherwise – and he removed one from its designated place for himself, and one for Diana.
The next drawer he opened contained his pyjama pants, all monochromatic and devoid of patterns, akin to his shirts. Just the way he liked. There were a couple of blue pairs though. Not like that mattered; he chose black, as usual.
A tired sigh left him then.
“Diana.” The sound of her footsteps crossing the distance between them seemed to reach him later than when they’d occurred, because she was already standing at his side. Wesker simply handed her the t-shirt he’d chosen for her, then he spoke again without looking her way, “Would you like pants?”
Diana chuckled at that, and the corner of his lips twitched. He treasured that sound. Well and truly treasured it.
“I doubt anything will fit me,” she whispered, the smile in her voice telling him she was trying to subdue her laugh.
“You have long legs.”
She let out a low, sweet hum at his dry response and positioned herself behind him, lifting her chin to rest it on his shoulder as she watched his hands comb through the pairs of pants in the drawer below. It was clear to Diana that he wouldn’t find anything that would fit her, considering she was barely two thirds the width of him, but she let him figure that out for himself. Instead, her hands ran down his sides and towards his hips. She stood on tiptoe to press a lingering kiss to his cheek while one of her hands travelled between them.
“Doesn’t change that you have more hips than I do,” Diana said between another kiss, tone playful, while her hand squeezed a handful of his firm backside.
Wesker reached behind himself and swatted her hand away, but he couldn’t stop the slight chuckle that bubbled up in his throat before it escaped him – one that mirrored her own. Her arms changing position, wrapping around his waist with her chin settling against his shoulder once more, was not what he expected in response, however. The feeling that brought up inside of him was not something he wished to confront tonight.
He needed to place more distance between them.
“Drawstrings.” Wesker held up a pair of pants that could be tightened at the waist, negating her claims that there couldn’t possibly be anything of his that may stay up for her.
Diana held back another sigh as she loosened her arms and plucked the pants from his grasp. Their short moment of joking around certainly didn’t last long, but she wasn’t sure why she even expected it to. It wasn’t the time or place, but she simply didn’t know how to deal with the situation at hand; it was always difficult for her to navigate when someone wasn’t feeling well.
On the other hand, Wesker was none the wiser to Diana’s inner turmoil. He only withdrew from her slack embrace and returned to where he’d been sitting at the end of the bed earlier, entirely focused on ridding himself of the rest of his work clothes. Without her interference.
Nothing seemed to be in his favour today though, because the moment his hips met the bed the entire room began to spin. It wasn’t like he had sat down too fast – or maybe he had finally lost his bearings – but the way the room was warping around him with stars dancing across his vision caused him to squeeze his eyes shut. His teeth ground together of their own accord and he cursed himself for it as that only amplified the pain at his temple.
All Wesker could do was turn his attention towards the buttons of his shirt, trying to ground himself as best he could by focusing on the feeling of one beneath his fingertips. The way the edges pressed against his skin as he pushed the button through its assigned opening felt so much sharper than usual. And it didn’t help that he fumbled on the first go.
“Let me help you.”
The almost desperate plea from the voice across the room couldn’t have come from Diana. Surely. Not even the distinct accent and low, gravelly quality of it could convince him; she had never done such a thing, never sounded like that, even when he’d reduced her to ruins in bed.
The Diana he knew wasn’t so willing to offer assistance.
Wesker scoffed, perhaps a bit too harsh judging by the frown he received, and only roughly unfastened the next button on his shirt. “I do not need your help.”
Oh, how he wished that were true.
The bile burning the back of his throat begged to differ. And it was getting increasingly difficult to just keep his eyes open, like his lids were being weighed down by some invisible force.
The soft sound of a zipper made Wesker glance over to where Diana stood, only to watch as her skirt pooled around her feet. His hands paused what they were doing as his eyes lazily wandered over her, mesmerised by the way she was carefully rolling her tights down her long legs. It wasn’t until she moved on to her shirt and made quick work of the overpriced garment that he shook himself free of her spell. To say she was stunning was frustratingly accurate.
She stripped down to nothing but her panties before pulling his massive t-shirt over her tiny frame, adjusting her hair the minute it was over her head. That shouldn’t have made him smile to himself. The thought that she was cute shouldn’t have even crossed his mind in the first place.
It wasn’t that long ago when he’d considered her vain for constantly worrying about her appearance, and the first time she had worn one of his shirts he had thought she looked absolutely ridiculous – comical, even. It was only endearing now. He chose not to look too close into that change, convincing himself that the pain he was in was simply making him delirious.
Fuck, he just wanted to go to sleep. There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to close this day and reset in the morning.
Despite struggling with each one, Wesker managed to finish undoing the buttons of his shirt and he weakly shrugged it off of his shoulders. It went no further than that, however, even with another attempt. The motion only made his stomach lurch, like waves roiling at sea.
A defeated sigh left him at that, but he was too tired to fight it. He must have made for a pathetic sight, one he wished there was no one present to witness.
That would’ve been grand, if he was so fortunate. Diana was standing in front of him again after dropping the pants in her grasp and crossing the distance in only a few quick strides. Before he could protest once more, she reached forward and laid her hands flat against his shoulders; cold fingers dipped beneath material, causing a shiver to run through his entire body, before she gently pushed the sleeves down his arms. It was unnecessary, but Diana held his forearm as she pulled the sleeve off by grasping the cuff, making sure to not turn his shirt inside-out.
He’d kiss her for that if his head didn’t feel like it was going to explode at any minute.
As soon as she freed him of his undershirt with the same meticulous care, Diana returned to what she had started earlier, before Wesker had stopped her. This time around he wasn’t nearly as tense when she took his face in her hands. In fact, it was the most at ease he had felt all day.
The chill of her palms provided some relief to the burning beneath his skin and the stabbing behind his eye. Even if it was only for a moment – until his cheeks warmed her hands and ripped that pleasant sensation away from him.
The only difference from when they’d found themselves in this position earlier was that Diana now leaned down to place a brief kiss on his lips. Wesker expected some level of warmth in her gaze once she pulled away, but he was only met with the look someone would have when scolding a child who had just hurt themselves on the playground.
If she was insinuating that he was being childish, they’d have a whole other problem on their hands.
Diana readjusted her hold to cradle his face in a more secure manner, fingers pressing firm against his skin. “I know you don’t want my help, but I will not see you make yourself sick because you are too stubborn to let someone look after you.”
Wesker glared up at her. Well, he hoped it was a glare, because whatever left him was all that he could muster in his state. From the way one of Diana’s brows raised, he sure did something, even if he had no idea if it was what he had intended.
They simply looked into one another’s eyes, holding the steady gaze for far too long – a familiar occurrence that usually took place when she challenged him. He supposed it was the other way around this time. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her help, it was that he didn’t want anyone’s. He thought himself above that, and he had managed being in this position countless times before. Even if on some of those days he had gone to sleep without being able to change his clothes.
Perhaps he needed some help.
“Fine.” Wesker relented with a long blink, and allowed himself to settle against her touch and relax some more.
That earned him a faint smile from Diana before she leaned in again. His eyes fluttered shut out of habit, but her lips didn’t connect with his own. Instead, they landed on his forehead, and his moment of ease faded away instantly, his hands balling into fists at his sides the longer she lingered there.
The pit in his stomach seemed to lessen when she withdrew and dropped to her knees again. But his head felt absurdly heavy without her hands holding it up. There was too much running through his mind, it was getting overwhelming. And it wasn’t just the hammering at the side of his skull. He wanted her but he tensed up at her touch, he needed her but he hated her assistance, he… He shouldn’t have invited her over tonight.
What had he been thinking?
Slender fingers curling into the waistband of his pants pulled Wesker from his thoughts, and he looked down at Diana, who had glanced up at the same time with that question in her eyes once more, asking if it was alright to continue. He simply nodded and she focused her attention back to what she was doing; he even lifted his hips to allow her to pull his pants off. Whenever she had dealt with the button and zipper eluded him.
He despised that – the feeling that he was no longer in control, losing his vigilance as the pain distracted him too much. It wasn’t just that though, the woman before him also played a part in causing his dazed state.
It was strange. Wesker couldn’t recall ever having a lover treat him like this. She wasn’t telling him that he was going to be okay, that she was there for him, or any of that superficial nonsense. She was just assisting him, doing whatever needed to be done so that he would be comfortable enough to hopefully get some sleep. It brought about another dreadful sensation to the mix already pestering him.
He lifted a hand and placed it over Diana’s when she reached for the t-shirt he had haphazardly dropped on the bed when the vertigo had hit him. She only looked down at his large hand enveloping hers for a moment, seeming to be the one stunned now. Then her eyes finally darted up to his face, and the steely determination in them from before melted away into that look that unsettled him far more.
“I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?” she asked, a slight trace of a chuckle clinging to the edge of it, as though she was almost embarrassed by her behaviour.
Wesker let out what was probably supposed to be a laugh in response, but little more than an exhale came out. “No.”
He paused as his next words died on his tongue. Or more accurately, they didn’t seem to want to leave his throat and even get that far. Diana was none the wiser and just rose to her feet, hand slipping free of his own and taking the t-shirt with it. Wesker chewed on the inside of his cheek for but a fraction of a second before he swallowed his pride.
A sharp inhale, then he lifted his head to look up at her. “Thank you.”
The genuine smile that crossed Diana’s face made him feel far too warm, like the sun was bearing down on his skin and reaching the deepest parts of him; it wasn’t quite a grin, teeth staying hidden, but the corners of her eyes crinkled and the indents on her cheeks deepened somewhat. She didn’t give him much of a chance to admire it though, too preoccupied with making sure she didn’t move him around too much as she carefully pulled the shirt over his head and helped each of his arms into the sleeves.
“I take it you have photophobia,” she said matter-of-factly. It was almost too clinical-sounding for Wesker’s liking, odd as that may seem. The term alone just left a bad taste in his mouth.
It was sort of his own fault, which he didn’t like owning up to. He’d always had trouble with his sensitivity to bright lights, but he was only meant to wear the tinted glasses Umbrella prescribed him when in the lab or outside. It had been the relief he felt without a migraine clawing at his senses that made him forget he was wearing them at all, and in turn, that developed into a habit of leaving them on for nearly all waking hours. His eyes adjusted to the conditions and it only worsened his sensitivity when he was without his sunglasses.
What he wouldn’t give to have his youthful eyes back.
When Wesker didn’t respond to her, Diana gently cupped his cheek. He tried to meet her gaze, but her eyes were focused just below, where her thumb was brushing across the dark circle marring his skin. Another thing he wished he could reverse time to prevent.
As useful as her help was, Wesker couldn’t understand why she was doing this, why she was being so… kind. So tender. She wasn’t a nurturer, or the type to worry about others. Maybe she did actually care for him, more than she let on. That didn’t feel right though – it just left him profoundly uncomfortable. His mind had to be playing tricks on him with how exhausted he was. That was the only reasonable explanation.
Diana’s thumb paused its repetitive motion and she simply held her hand in place. It was just for another second or two, but her touch lingered well after she departed, leaving a pleasant tingle across his skin.
The last obstacle in the way of Wesker being able to just collapse into bed and hope that his migraine was gone by the morning was the pair of pyjama pants Diana was bunching up so she could help him change into them easily. His tired limbs seemed to move on their own, slipping into each pant leg with little input from him, but the moment he lifted his hips as she tugged the fabric over them, another surge of intense pain hit him, causing him to keel over.
It felt as though his head was being split in two, torn apart from the inside out. He could have sworn the eye taking the brunt of the pressure was going to pop out of its socket at any minute. The only thing he could do was rest his head in his hands and endure it, pressing his thumbs down on the innermost part of his brows in hopes to alleviate some of the pain.
Diana shuffled closer and reached forward to place her hands on his thighs. They only ran up and down the sides of them in a gentle, reassuring motion while her mind scrambled to recall the locations of where she’d seen every thing that could possibly aid him in his house.
Her brain was being just as helpful as his was, because she drew a blank, too taken aback by the sight in front of her. The intimidating Albert Wesker slumped over in pain – that was something she thought she’d never see. He always seemed so… invincible. Nothing could tear down his powerful image and break through his composed demeanour this easily, and she couldn’t quite believe her eyes.
“Albert?” Diana’s voice was so soft he almost didn’t hear it, but his name always sounded so much nicer spilling from her lips compared to anyone else’s. “Do you need a bucket? Or…” She paused for a second then let out a frustrated huff. “Where do you keep your painkillers?”
“They don’t work,” Wesker grumbled.
Of course they don’t, she thought. That would’ve been too easy.
Or he was being overdramatic. So, she pressed on. “Not even a little bit?”
The crease between his brows only deepened, and he squeezed his eyes shut. So, that was a definitive no.
Diana pursed her lips as she tried to think of what else she could do for him. She wasn’t familiar with actually dealing with a migraine, even if she knew all of the treatments on paper; she was fortunate enough to never get them, and she couldn’t remember the last time someone around her had. She could list off every over-the-counter painkiller and triptan that was used to specifically target a migraine, but that would do her no good. She didn’t know what worked for him.
There had to be something though. Diana moved to stand and go take a look at what was in the medicine cabinet in his bathroom, but Wesker fumbled to take her hand in his own.
That made her freeze on the spot.
She had no doubt he was cursing himself for doing such a thing, for how it almost seemed to be a reflex more than a conscious decision. Or perhaps he just needed something solid to hold on to. Whichever it was, Diana didn’t care, so long as it helped. Even if the way he was gripping her hand hurt like hell; she’d been through far worse, so the possibility of a broken bone was something she would simply bear.
“Here,” she whispered while carefully pulling Wesker up to stand a moment after she did so herself. He stumbled on his feet when upright, but Diana was there – the pillar to hold him up and save him from toppling over.
The arm not reaching for his – right hand clasping his own – was wrapped around his back. It served to keep him stable as she slowly guided him over to what she had long since been acquainted with as his preferred side of the bed. This whole ordeal would’ve been much easier if he wasn’t leaning his entire body weight against her, but at least the trip wasn’t too lengthy.
Their hands only parted when Diana let go to lean forward and pull back the covers for him. Wesker really hoped she didn’t see how his fingers extended on instinct, as if to chase her touch. It was utterly pathetic. The urge to hold her was getting increasingly annoying, and he wished his body would just try to not embarrass him for once.
He couldn’t exactly exert much control over his innate reactions in his condition, but if Diana noticed, she didn’t say anything. That was one positive, he supposed.
And the fact that he managed to sit on the bed on his own without dragging her down with him. That probably would’ve earned him a bony shoulder digging into his chest, and that would just make matters worse.
Diana didn’t have to, but she went so far as to help him lie down as well. In a way that wouldn’t make his head feel as though someone had taken a hammer to it, that is. All slow movements and firm but gentle touches, manipulating his limbs for him as they felt too heavy for him to move on his own. And when she was done, one of her hands reached up to smooth back his hair.
That brought about that dreadful flutter in the pit of Wesker’s stomach. Or maybe that was the nausea. He couldn’t tell at this point.
Weary eyes tried their hardest to stay trained on the figure lingering in front of them. But they were unsuccessful. Wesker couldn’t keep them open any longer, not when everything was spinning around like this. He couldn’t even make out what the expression strewn about Diana’s features was.
It didn’t even matter, because her comforting touch left him before the sound of her feet padding across the floor reached his ears – quickly, like she was in some rush. Unnecessary, Wesker thought. He wasn’t exactly going anywhere, lying there in agony.
He didn’t think it would get this bad. It had been so long since he’d had a migraine like this. The nausea, visual disturbances, and all of that nonsense was typical for him, but the vertigo would come and go. Every time it showed itself he was caught off guard; there was no getting used to the feeling of his body swaying back and forth when he was lying perfectly still.
That wasn’t even the worst of his problems.
His mind decided it wanted to be louder than the rhythmic pulse behind his eye, yelling at him to the point where his thoughts felt like they were what was causing his pain by bouncing around and colliding with his skull.
Weak. Pitiful. Unacceptable. Over and over again.
How could he let someone see him like this?
Not just someone, but her, of all people. The woman who would roll her eyes when one of the researchers called off work, the one who boasted about never getting sick, the one who carried herself like nothing could strike her down. Just like he did. And yet here he was, reduced to rubble by a bit of pain.
That’s what was confusing Wesker. Why was Diana being so considerate of his plight? He had no doubt she’d rather be at the lab, or really anywhere else, doing something worthwhile instead of this. She should just leave, honestly. There was no reason for her to stick around; it wasn’t like she felt anything more for him beyond fellowship. Sherry was wrong in her assumption; Diana wasn’t his partner.
She may have been his, but he certainly wasn’t hers. No, she just enjoyed toying with him.
Now was not the time to fall into thinking about that rubbish again. He should’ve never asked her if she wished to stay the night. Or invited her over for dinner in the first place, for that matter.
“Alright.”
That pulled Wesker out of his head. It may have only been low, simply a hurried mumble under one’s breath, but that entrancing voice was unmistakable to him. His little pity party hadn’t lasted long – privacy breached once more as Diana returned from whatever she had been doing. He really did despise that she was witnessing him in this state; this wasn’t how he wished for her to find out he suffered from migraines.
With her hands full, Diana crossed his room with the stride of someone on a mission – full of purpose. First, she placed a glass of water down on his nightstand, then she used her now free hand to pull the bucket she’d found in the laundry out from under her other arm, where it was sitting awkwardly and digging into her side. 
Once she set it down beside the bed, she crouched in front of Wesker and placed the ice pack she’d wrapped in a tea towel in one of his hands, which he lifted to his forehead immediately. Diana had no idea if that would help him or not, actually. She preferred heat for pain relief; being sensitive to the cold always made her recovery with injuries from ballet growing up a horrid experience. Maybe she should have looked to see if he had a heat pack instead. That would help alleviate the tension in his neck and shoulders.
No. She had what she needed, she wasn’t going to run around and make an even bigger fuss. It would probably make him feel worse, anyhow.
The only thing left to do was close the curtains and block out any light that threatened to seep into his room, whether that be from the street lamps illuminating the suburb or the bright moon itself. The significance of his blackout curtains now made much more sense to her.
When she stood to round the bed, Diana had no idea why she took the hand by his hip in her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her thumb even brushed across the back of it for a second. There was just this odd need to show him that she was there, that she wasn’t going anywhere.
Even as she pulled the curtains shut, the thought didn’t leave her mind.
She wasn’t going anywhere.
Taking care to not make the mattress dip too much, Diana climbed into bed next to Wesker. The last thing she wished was for her getting comfortable to cause him any undue pain because it jostled him about. It was only then, when the covers brushed across her bare legs, that she realised she was only wearing his shirt – the pyjama pants he’d chosen for her long forgotten somewhere to the darkness.
Wesker decided to be rather ungrateful for her cautious approach, as he moved on his own. Diana couldn’t help how her eyes wandered over him, taking in every detail she could as he began to slowly roll over; his brows were knit together, deepening the lines between them, his lips were pulled down in a frown, and his eyes were screwed shut. It was rather obvious to her that he was trying to not bring up all of his dinner, and that sent her heart plummeting down into her stomach. What he was going through really sunk in then.
She wished she could just take the pain away, make it all disappear and guarantee it would never return.
It was an awful feeling, watching the man who had only ever given her these tiny glimpses of vulnerability do what looked to be such a practised motion, as though he had a tried-and-true method for dealing with his nausea for so long.
She felt helpless. But why did she even care? Countless lovers had come and gone, not ever leaving an imprint on her heart, but he seemed to tug at every string.
A loud thump, immediately followed by a rather feeble sound, pulled Diana from her thoughts. It wasn’t quite a groan, but not nearly a whimper either, and she never thought she’d hear such a sound come from Wesker.
While turning, the ice pack had fallen free of his weak grasp and landed on the floor, causing the disturbance. Diana opened her mouth to speak, to ask him if he wanted her to pick it up for him, but she didn’t get a chance; he curled up against her side all of a sudden, resting his head on her chest. That was something she wasn’t prepared for. He had never done that before, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he heard the way her heart sped up at the act.
Diana kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling, not daring to look down at him while her arm hesitated to wrap around his back. What was she even supposed to do? This was all new territory for her, for them, and… it was overwhelming. She didn’t know what to think; there was just this massive weight that had been dropped onto her chest. And it wasn’t Wesker, or the way he slung his arm over her waist.
It was that somehow, despite everything, he had managed to worm his way past all of her defences and make her actually care for him.
But friends do care for one another, yes? That is a fact. And it’s not like their dates meant anything; she had gone on many with casual partners in the past, and they were merely a formality. The longing she felt for him was nothing beyond physical.
The arm around her tightened its hold on her side, pulling her closer, and Diana looked down just in time to see a grimace twist Wesker’s features before he turned his head to rest his brow against her breastbone. Whatever he grumbled as he did so, Diana couldn’t quite make out what it was.
She chewed on her lip while bringing a hand up to the back of his head, gently cradling it and holding him close. She found herself hesitating again, unsure of the implications of her touch – how it could be perceived. But the urge grew too strong soon enough. Whatever was going on between them was just that, and she wasn’t going to complicate matters by overanalysing it.
Her fingers ran through his hair, pressing firm against his scalp in somewhat of a massage. Diana absolutely hated the feeling of pomade residue on her fingers, but seeing the way his shoulders relaxed eased her disgust, if only slightly. She’d just have to deal with the waxy feeling on her skin, she supposed. It was a selfish thought but she wished he’d at least managed to rinse out his hair. She knew he hated it as well, though; his routines were always so important to him.
Wesker let out a long exhale and Diana paused the motion, unsure if what she was doing was actually making matters worse. He didn’t say anything, but the way he held her closer while his legs tangled with her own made her stomach flip, as though she was the one who was going to be sick.
The arm around his back held him firm as she leaned in to press a kiss to the top of his head. She never wanted him to go through this again, and she would find a way to ensure that.
For now though, she made a note to have a look for his glasses first thing tomorrow, before he woke.
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amatres · 1 year
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anyway my personal ranks of origins backstories just in the game by themselves is brosca and tabris at the top, aeducan at the bottom. cousland i will admit is pretty impactful but i still feel like, as wild as an option it would have been, that a cousland warden should had the option to solo rule. they are from the only other teryn in ferelden and it's even said that it was considered for bryce to rule so like! come on!
aeducan is at the bottom because it so tightly locks you into siding against bhelen, which i suppose is fair for brosca being so skewed in behlens favor bc of rica, but brosca is just Good so i forgive that, while aeducan is just suffering.
i still stand by my idea that the 'noble' dwarven origin shouldn't have been the second aeducan child, they should have been the second aeducan's second in place of gorim. that way there would have been more room for roleplay. also the second aeducan child would have been a secret third option for ruler of orzammar that you would encounter with the legion of the dead that they joined after being kicked out.
you would have to both do the legion of dead quest to give them a noble caste, and also have high as hell coercion for it to work but it would really cool and also so funny to do. that said the origin just by itself is pretty fun, love being backstabbed by my second favorite baby brother from the dragon age franchise
mahariel and the magi warden are in the 'i like them but they don't feel as impactful' as much as it hurts me. they're both just kinda there, however that said if the game let you recruit jowan into your party that would bring the magi warden up much higher. alas.
#ama mumbles#dragon age origins#dragon age#sorry for putting this in the main tags yall can ignore me this is for the followers who want to block the tags lol#magi warden is brought up higher on an 'entire franchise' scale bc they feel relevant while the others... don't#but in just origins i will heartbreakingly admit they can feel a bit disconnected and underwhelming despite all the ties they have.#to the broken circle and to jowan bc of how smaller scope the choices you get in those two areas are#you get two choices with broken circle more or less and you either run jowan off or get him killed. sad.#which is fitting considering the fact they were forcibly disconnected from the world as a child by the chantry. anyway.#what if broken circle just let me kill the templars. what then.#if you could recruit jowan then they'd be tied to a companion and would probably get special dialogue with him#also then id get to drag my miserable adopted brother with me to the ass end of thedas. i was robbed when they scrapped that idea. robbed!!#to be fair magi feels less 'disconnected' in world and more just in a player sense#bc so much of the drama in it is entrenched in the lore of the world and when you don't know That then it feels. odd.#its a origin i feel many new players would have the hardest time emotionally getting into#mahariel however feels Very disconnected from everything. tamlen showing up as a ghoul i feel was added to remedy that a bit#bc otherwise theres really only nature of the beast and later on velanna but it's not even their tribe or someone they knew. so. 🤷‍♀️#these are just personal thoughts tho#also why is tabris and brosca at the top? bc they go hard and i love underdog stories.#brosca also helps make paragon of her kind like. actually land. i never know what to roleplay otherwise bc Why Would I Care#tabris is just good baby#when will the city elf player background return to me#aeducan would probably be more bearable if they hadn't made harrowmount like That as king. or at least. foreshadowed it better#beyond just ambient npc dialogue bc at that point in game most pl are just running past#made paragon of her kind feel more well rounded. its very hard to get invested roleplay wise when youre not a dwarf pc#but that might just be my own failings i suppose#lots of tags#sorry i rambled again
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lhrry · 2 years
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#my second worry is more an emotional reaction but yeah as a European fan (so still privileged in comparison to eg asian and African fans)#I feel treated unfairly it is what it is ok#I don’t like how us-centric they’re making him as a uk artist even though I get the financial reasons for it#but from a very personal pov ok fine line is a HUGE part of me it got me through a terribly fucked up time#and I really waited for that tour and to hear the album live for so long (and there was no hs1 show here and I could not travel then#to go see him so this is my first time seeing him since my 1d show back in 2015)#and I simultaneously want to hear hs3 tour on its own#now I do feel we’re going to get a consolidating mix up here and I don’t like it selfishly ok#I’d ideally want him to take a break and then tour it in the us and elsewhere but it does not seem to be the case and it just leaves me not#feeling too well or important as a fan#NOW the thing is I love Harry with my entire heart and this worries me a bit because this is already making me feel disconnected from him#not him him as a person because I feel like I know him as a fan but this leaves many fans not feeling so great and it’s not a good feeling#to have resonating through your fan base#for years I’ve felt they’ve made him too detached and distant and dehumanised and i really thought they’d rework it now but this doesn’t#seem to be pointing that way#I really am seeing so many disappointed and disheartened people as well as people genuinely worried for him#and that’s not really what you want your fan base to feel right before you release your new album do you??#and to be very clear i don’t agree with boycotting and i am happy for us fans#and I wouldn’t want him to add Europe shows to the detriment of his health which could easily be the case#but this is not handled well at all and I at this point don’t even want to see where they’re heading with all this
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primsycoldbottles · 2 years
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i dont wanna be weird (this ask's completely out of left field sorry) but i completely agree with you, i.e., acofaf. when i watch romance in it (except chirp's romance which. same here.) i feel barely anything. rue and hob are cute and i know they're supposed to be an exploration of queer identity and brennan and oscar seem really passionate about it but i can't bring myself to care as much as most other fans? binx and andhera just feels like everyone in the group except their players are pushing them and are a lot more interesting to me when i think of them as platonic
anyway this is getting long so just know you shouldn't feel bad for not going crazy for the romance in acofaf!
SOOOOOOO REAL!!!!! especially for andhera and binx being quite literally PUSHED together by breannan/hob and oscar/rue despite them having full ability (and it was most likely to happen anyways) that theyd pair up for a dance together. and like.. i Get It, theyve had a lot of moments together (ex. the darkness haze with the hands) that everyone freaked out over..... but i still feel as if its less romance and more just.. community and understanding within each others circumstances and identity. i truly cannot see andhera and binx in love with how they act within the show as budding friends rather than people in love. theyre so much more interesting to think of as platonic and how theyd navigate healing from their respective traumas hand in hand WITHOUT putting romance in there. it feels unnecessary for andhera and binx to have romance when their stories are ALREADY fulfilling to watch without it present.
AND HERES THE THING!!! i really appreciate rue and hob!! i think their portrayal and romance is very well done in the show, even if it is obvs quite sudden (and unfortunately the show only being 10 eps means that you cannot explore romance as much as 18, so that will always make things feel less Real :[). but i simply just have no.. infatuation? with it. i think oscars/rues exploration with the allegories of coming out and finding yourself are beautiful, especially when paired with brennans/hobs complimentary exploration of recognizing that youve been exploited and overcoming that trauma and making a name for yourself without anyone else stealing your glory. its beautiful and their connection in the show is really nice.... i just..... didnt latch onto it. and it FEELS bad that i didnt??? but i just straight up dont have much investment in ships and romance and stuff anymore in ships the way i used to when i was younger.
ANYWAYS YOU GET IT thank u anon for making me feel less alone in not having intense investment in the acofaf ships even tho i REALLY love the show itself <333 so awesome that im not just insane and weird for it yaaaay
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heartbeetz · 2 years
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I was never super fond of those "your f/os are real in a different universe (and also maybe they try to find ways to communicate with you in this universe)" ideas when it comes to my own ships, but I've always loved the way Jօurnal 3 ends...
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This is literally so so so nice and I like it a lot.
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the-acid-pear · 3 months
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Btw if you're a fan of the movie and you saw any of my criticism OR NOT I deeply encourage you to tell me why you love this movie and maybe counterpoint my takes. I'm so into getting a new perspective thru the eyes of a lover.
That said the fact that around 8 people saw me asking if I'd watch this movie and Fargo and everyone voted Fargo (of that group, like 2 went for nope) gives me such hope about the fans in the crowd. True lulyheads knew I was gonna hate it before I knew that. Wild.
#luly talks#i dont think I'll be able to stop hating it because i dont enjoy a single thing the movie does#like i enjoy the concept SO much and having the fuck be the stand in for a dangerous animal IS SICK#but like i said i believe the director is a fucking idiot who doesn't get the issue he's trying to portray#i dont think he gets that we as an audience need to See Things or at least Hear Things to Know Things#because this man heard show not tell but then made the most painfully slow movie and forgot to show anything#aside from the scenes w Juni and. he's jupe? i saw it in the subtitles idk where i got juni?#i probably called him jupe on the first time i was like got his name but then just fucking. forgot? so he's juni to me now dw#but he is the most compelling character in the whole movie BECAUSE HE HAS LIKE... SOMETHING GOING ON#something tangible you have his trauma and you SEE it you see how he was just a kid that was working w this ppl AND THIS CHIMP#an animal he did like and who he saw massacre everyone BUT him. and when he was showing a moment of...#being equals maybe? in front of him the chimp is shot dead.#and it's hands down the best scene in the movie i was literally twisting my body like i was driving a car in a game so he'd fist bump gordy#it was the only scene that made me feel ANYTHING#but then after he had been living w this trauma he decided to kind of just. try tame an alien? FOR THE FUCK OF IT??#because like i said he was not making money this shit was Small just some shit spectacle in the middle of nowhere#and like. i like OJ too but OJ is so disconnected from us the audience is enraging#like I'd fucking love to see him have SOMETHING GOING ON A MOMENT OF GENUINE EMOTION#like AT THE VERY LEAST SHOW ME HIM CARING FOR HIS HORSES BROTHER SHOW ME HIM BRUSHING THEM GIVING THEM A TREAT#movie had all in place to be good but it just. wasn't! just because!!#like the whole message w the animals is pretty dog shit in general too like. i said it already its way more deep#and the fuckign tiger reference is so enraging like i previously mentioned and i know its a character saying it not jordan but you're not#meant to disagree you're meant to be like yeah fucking idiot got bitten by a tiger when the guy insists the tiger was good#AND WHO IN FACT STILL LIVES W BIG ANIMALS AND HAS A PRETTY DECENT LIFE W THEM#LIKE THE ISSUE IS DEEPER IM GONNA CUT MY BALLS OFF AND THROW THEM ST SOMEONE'S FACE IN ANGER#YOU'D DO GOOD JORDAN YOU'D DO GOOD BUT YOU DIDN'T#AND FACT RHE MOVIE SPECIFIES PREDATORS ARE UNTAMABLE WHEN HORSES and other prey animals of their size or more#AS JUST AS DANGEROUS JUST GOES TO SHOW HOW HOLLOW AND STUPID ITS MESSAGE IS#LIKE GOD.#PLEASE HELP ME UNDERSTAND THIS MOVIE PLEASE HELP ME LIKE IT AS MUCH AS 84% IN FUCKING ROTTEN TOMATOES
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rollercoasterwords · 2 years
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the tiktokification of ao3
or: some of you fundamentally misunderstand ao3 and it really, really shows
i was talking about this with a friend a few days ago and since then i've seen multiple posts of various sorts that have just made me think about it more, so. here is me breaking down a disconnect i see particularly with younger members of the marauders fandom (i say marauders specifically just bc that's the only one i'm plugged into):
okay, so i've seen many (usually younger) marauders fans either talking online about how they wish ao3 was more like social media (specifically regarding algorithms) OR talking about ao3/fanfiction/fanfic writers as if they are operating under the same etiquette/guidelines/assumptions they would bring into social media platforms. this ranges from being mildly irritating to genuinely harmful, and i want to talk abt why.
first - you have to understand that social media, in this day and age, exists in a profit economy. and when i say social media here, i'm referring to platforms like tiktok, twitter, instagram, etc. all of these platforms exist in a profit economy where content is a product that can be monetized. this leads to a few important distinctions:
people posting on these social media platforms are generally posting with the intent to get their content seen by as many people as possible, as quickly as possible
they post with this intent because once their content is consumed by enough people, it becomes a product that they can monetize
therefore, if that content gets popular enough, these people can become influencers, where content creation is an actual job and their audience are, in a sort of vague and obscured way, similar to consumers purchasing a product
because of the profit economy surrounding social media, there are certain assumptions + forms of interaction that bleed across almost all social media platforms. the ones relevant to this little essay include:
operating under the assumption that anyone posting anything on the internet wants to go viral, ie. be seen by as many people as possible as quickly as possible in order to grow an "audience"
these influencers are creating content for us, their audience, so they should want to please us. they should also be trying to appeal to the broadest possible audience. therefore, if we dislike their content, we have a right to make that very, very clear.
in that same vein, we have a general right to critique content creators, as they are making a profit and we are the consumers purchasing their product--much like you might feel entitled to a certain standard of service in a restaurant where you are paying for the food.
when you carry these assumptions over to a platform like ao3, it creates problems. why? in a nutshell: because ao3 exists outside the profit economy
ao3 is a non-profit. it does not have an algorithm because it is not trying to sell you anything. this means that the writers posting their work on ao3 are not making a profit. we are not influencers. we are not creating monetized content to sell to a consumer-audience. where consuming content on other social media platforms might be comparable to eating at a restaurant, reading fanfiction on ao3 is more like coming over to someone's house and eating cookies that they made for free. you are in their house. the cookies are free, given as a gift. so what happens when those assumptions outlined above start to bleed over from other social media?
assuming that anyone posting fanfiction online wants their work to go viral -- i've seen this with popular fic writers getting questions like, "are you worried x isn't going to be as popular as y?" those questions are usually not ill-intended, but they demonstrate a fundamental lack of understanding about why writers post work on ao3. it's not to go viral. it's not to build any sort of online following. most of us who post on ao3 have jobs or schoolwork or other commitments, and writing fanfiction is something done for fun, out of a love for writing. those sharing their work online might be seeking community, but that is fundamentally different from seeking an audience, and in no way involves internet virality. if someone is posting fanfic on ao3 with the hope that it'll "go viral," then they likely either won't continue writing fanfic for long or will reach a point where they have to re-evalute their motivations, because seeking joy and validation by turning your art into a product for consumption just isn't very sustainable.
influencers are creating content for us, so we have a right to let them know if we don't like it -- nope!! fic writers are not influencers. yes, even the popular ones. no matter how much other people might blow their work up on social media, fic writers are still outside the profit economy. they are not creating content for an audience. they are not creating content for you. they are writing because they love it, and they are generously sharing it. if you don't like it, don't interact with it. you are never entitled to loudly and publicly proclaim how much you dislike a fic. i talk about this more here
we have a general right to critique fic writers, the same way we do with content creators/influencers -- again, no. you should not be treating fic writers the way you would treat an influencer on another social media platform, no matter how popular they may be. this is not to say fic writers are beyond all reproach; rather, it is a call-in to check your entitlement. fic writers are not little jesters entertaining in your court. they are not subject to your whims. they do not have to do things for you. they do not have to write things you like. in that post i linked on point 2, i talk about what etiquette might look like if you're really concerned that a fic writer is doing something harmful, but that is not what i'm talking about here. i am talking about the proliferation of negativity i have seen, especially on twitter and tiktok, where people essentially just talk shit about fics or fic writers as though they are entitled to have those fic writers working to please them. this is gross, and it needs to stop. you wouldn't go over to someone's house, eat the cookies they baked to share, and then spit those cookies back in their face and start shouting about what a shitty baker they are. or maybe you would--in which case, congratulations! you are Not A Good Person.
anyway, at the end of the day, a lot of this can be boiled down to: Because ao3 exists outside the profit economy, fic writers are not influencers, and you should never be treating them as though they are. i think i see this disconnect largely with younger people just because they've maybe only ever really understood social media within this sort of influencer-consumer-culture economy, and genuinely don't understand how to interact differently with the internet. so, consider this post a call-in to reevaluate the way you interact with fic writers and the etiquette you use when it comes to engaging with fanfic on ao3! i promise that ao3 being different from social media is a very, very good thing, and also a very, very rare thing, so let's treasure it and focus on fostering community rather than trying to morph it to fit the mould of influencer-audience dynamics that we see almost everywhere else <3
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xxsabitoxx · 1 year
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Unfortunate [Teaser] full fic has been posted
Sekido, Karaku, Aizetsu, Urogi x AFAB! Reader
Warning the full length fic will include the following: gang banging, dub-con / non-con, forced oral, forced orgasm, BDSM themes… which just means they aren’t easy on you whatsoever, humiliation, bukkake, outdoor sex, brain washing, etc etc etc
A/N: so I will say, this fic is going to be a darker one. I don’t think I’ve ever written like… full on non-con… honestly this fic will somehow lean towards dub-con anyways. Like let’s be honest, it’s gonna be a very morally gray fic. I mean we aren’t moral people let’s be real.
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You had fucked up, big time. “Such a stupid thing! You couldn’t figure out that we wanted you to do this?” The green eyed demon laughed again, watching as you looked between the three of them. Laughing just a bit harder as you realized only three of them stood before you. “I-but…” there was a fourth. You were certain of it… so where the hell did he go? “Karaku…you’re so loud…” the blue eyed demon whined, eyes locked on you as he referred to the green eyed demon. “Shut it, Aizetsu.”
The red eyed one spoke again, staff hovering just a bit off the ground as he scowled at you. “You’re probably wondering where the fourth one went, huh sugar?” The green eyed demon taunted you, completely torn, you couldn’t figure out where to look. If your eyes left the three of them they’d likely attack. If you didn’t try to figure out the location of the fourth, it was likely he’d kill you instead. “C’mon, little slayer… Show us what you got…” the blue eyed demon spoke, voice somber and eyes filled with sadness.
“Urogi, quit playing around.” The red eyed demon bellowed, another name, but your brain was going too fast to remember it. The flapping of wings pulled you from your daze, head whipping in the direction of the noise but it was too late. Two claws grabbed around your waist, the sudden thrust upward knocking your blade straight from your grasp. A scream of shock left you as you were torn straight off the ground, head flying upwards to see what had grabbed you. Somehow, it was the fourth demon.
He looked just as the other three did, the only differences being his eyes and his limbs. Golden eyes stared down at you, a familiar smirk on his lips. Instead of arms and legs, he had claws. His limbs resembled that of a bird or reptile, large wings expanding behind him. You jerked as he stopped, hovering in the air as he looked you over. It wasn’t until he raised his legs that you realized he was using them to grasp you opposed to his arms. “What a pathetic thing you are…” he laughed as he let you go.
You began to plummet to the ground, body and mind so disconnected from your reality that you couldn’t even muster a scream before he swooped down to grab you again. Now, you were facing him, eyes wide and chest heaving. “You humans are so easy to break… though I must say I’ve never seen the fighting spirit leave someone as quickly as it left you.” He admired your petrified face, slowly descending until he was in earshot of his other halves. “Yah know, Sekido? We shouldn’t kill her just yet…”
His eyes trailed over your body, a cruel grin covering his face as he spoke. “Why don’t we have some fun with her? It’s been years since I’ve gotten my fill of human…desire.” The implications had you feeling hot, panic ebbing up the back of your neck as you squirmed in his grasp. “Oh? There it is…” he dropped you a moment later. The fall wasn’t a big one but it still hurt when you hit the ground. The panic was mixing with dread as you realized what the situation was turning to. “Fun? Urogi why can’t we just eat her…” the blue eyed demon whined softly as he stared at you.
“Oi, Aizetsu don’t be such a prude…” the green eyed demon spoke, walking over to where you sat on the ground. He crouched before you, smiling in a way that made you want to run. “She’d certainly have a good time, don’t you think Sekido? You know we need your approval to do anything…” he turned to look at the red eyed demon, a soft thump behind you told you that the winged demon had landed. You met the red eyed demon’s gaze, swallowing thickly as you waited for him to decide your fate.
“There are rules…you know. We each get a turn, no hogging her.” You got the chills, listening intently to the demons conversing about having their way with you. “Listen here, sugar.” The green eyed demon grabbed your face, keeping your attention on him as he spoke. “We’re gonna have a hell of a time with you… satisfy us and maybe we’ll let you leave here with your life.” Behind you, the winged demon snickered, feet dragging on the ground as he too crouched behind you. “You’ll be able to satisfy the four of us with your body, right?”
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sy-on-boy · 4 months
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Real talk: the fact that Anya expects to read Demetrius’ mind but sees nothing is kind of sad because Demetrius saw his 6yo brother approach and congratulate him, and had zero thoughts in his brain. But that doesn’t mean Demetrius doesn’t care about him. When Damian stutters, Demetrius initiates conversation by talking about Damian’s grades, showing that he indeed pays attention.
Demetrius seems almost resentful by Damian’s insistence to impress Donovan, giving out a snarky, passive aggressive, teen appropriate response: “How would I know? It’s not as if I’m in regular contact with him.” This is like the passive aggressive version of whatever is going on with Melinda. Damian is a relatively innocent 6yo kid seeking his father’s approval, but both his mother and his brother appear to be seriously affected (in a bad way) by Donovan, and they avoid talking about Donovan even as Damian repeatedly mentions him. Demetrius doesn’t understand Damian’s desire for their father’s approval. He also doesn’t understand his father, hinting at some sort of disconnect between them.
What also saddens me a bit is how Demetrius barely acknowledged Damian’s friends talking to him. Like, they’re six year old kids trying to make a good impression. Still, Demetrius didn’t completely ignore them, just gave a meaningless “oh” and decided to stop thinking about people. It’s very much giving “stressed (and depressed) to the point of apathy”. When facing the innocence (ignorance?) and optimism of 6yo kids, Demetrius doesn’t understand. (And maybe he doesn’t understand friendship, which is what Damian has?)
I mentioned before that characters Anya met are probably “good” characters on the side of Forgers or at least are sympathetic to readers. Because if Anya met a “bad” character and read their mind, she would be too OP and the plot could be quickly solved. It’s like how we all thought Melinda was suspicious when she met Yor, but then Anya met Melinda and read her mind to reveal that she cares about Damian (even if it’s in a twisted way). Demetrius is interesting because he subverts what I said above by thinking very little, so Anya cannot really read him. But so far, I think his portrayal is that of a typical middle schooler with middle school angst, and he cares about Damian even if he has zero thoughts on his brain (and doesn’t like the way Damian craves fatherly approval). He is still a child and presumably a victim of his father’s parenting.
The framing is also interesting. Damian telling his friends to go on without him while he waits for Demetrius. The panel of Demetrius towering over a stuttering Damian. Demetrius going away, showing a panel of him as a small figure in an otherwise blank background. That panel when Anya thinks Damian’s relatives are weird has her looking at Damian while he’s some distance away from her (and the rest of his friends). The brothers feel disconnected. Damian is both eager and nervous to talk to Demetrius. Demetrius is nonchalant and apathetic, but not impolite or outwardly wholly dismissive.
Given Damian’s wacky family situation, I’m glad he has friends at Eden. Ewen and Emile of course are steadfast and loyal companions, always eager to back up their beloved boss man. Anya can read his mind and she knows about his insecurities (and also his weird family).
Becky is also good as a friend because she doesn’t care about sucking up to Damian, she often calls him out, but she also supports Damian when he deserves it. A sweet scene here is Damian saying he’s a Desmond so he’s expected to get a star, and Becky adding “it’s still a great achievement. Congrats!”. Becky is validating his success and telling Damian it’s okay to be proud and happy for himself. Even though she’s usually judgemental towards Damian, she’s still kind to him because that’s who she is as a character.
In the end, Damian still wants his father’s attention. He had no idea Demetrius wasn’t that close to their father… I would assume Demetrius spent most of his time at Eden and this is Damian’s first year at Eden, so he actually gets to interact with his brother instead of hearing things about him?
So far, Demetrius seems like a very jaded character in contrast to Damian who feels like a beam of sunshine now. He’s the heir so he’s got more troubles. But it’s nice that he’s finally debuted and no longer in mystery. Can’t wait to see what Endo has in store for him :)
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hannieehaee · 6 months
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18+ / mdi
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content: perv!wonwoo (not super pervy but i tried my best 🫡), smut, f reader, penetrative sex, established relationship (situatuonship is mentioned but idk lets assume they're exclusive just bc i can), he's kinda a dick, etc.
wc: 905
masterlist
streamer!wonwoo perv!wonwoo whose audience believes him to be a golden boy. simply a polite yet charming guy whos into video games, who just so happens to be insanely handsome. his thick rimmed glasses and wavy hair almost covering his eyes, accompanied by those wide shoulders, was able to catch the attention of all of those looking for a pretty face to look at while consuming content from their favorite video games (although many keep their eyes glued to the tiny view of wonwoo on the corner of the screen rather than the game itself).
the people watching him through the screen dont even see the half of it, though, not knowing how much of a perv he is when in real life. not so much a respectful and charming guy, but a degenerate who keeps up the act for appearances. after all, that is how he first got to you a few years back, when you, one of the few who had been a loyal viewer since before his channel blew up, decided that you just HAD to have the pretty nerd rambling about league of legends on stream.
after a few (okay, maybe more than a few) attempts at catching his attention through leaving various suggestive comments, wonwoo finally decided to take a look at your account, noting an instagram linked on your bio. after seeing that the desperate commentator he had taken a liking to seeing always punctual in his streams was a pretty girl in his area, his mind went straight to the gutter, finding his hands moving on their own to send you a message detailing his interest.
a few months later and you found yourself in a months-long situationship with the streamer, having him hit you up almost every other day when he needed 'something warm warm to stick his dick in', as he so nicely put it as he had you sitting on top of him, cockwarming him while he gamed (off-stream, of course).
having a such a well paying stay at home job had many perks, including the ability to take any day off he wanted to fuck you into his bed, somehow managing to never scare you away with his very obvious obsession with your body, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you with little to no regard for the exhaustion you'd feel after a few hours with him. somehow the roles had reversed, with him now being the one to continuously pursue you under the vice of getting under your pants every second he could.
"n-nonu fuck. slow down, i-" you whined as he senselessly bounced you up and down on his dick, rhythm completely lost a few rounds ago.
he practically growled at your complaint, "you asked for this when you showed up wearing that tiny excuse for a skirt while i was on stream."
"you asked me over-"
"for moral support, baby. not for you to parade yourself around me knowing i wouldnt be able to hold back from taking this pussy," he breathed out, angling you slightly differently, now causing you to whine even louder at your clit being stimulated by the friction.
"does your audience know how m- agh fuck. how much of a perv you are? leaving mid stream to get your dick wet?"
your brattiness causes him to disconnect your bodies, flipping yours over to put you on your hands and elbows and ramming himself into you with no warning.
"be thankful i'm fucking you of all people baby. be thankful this pussy has such a grip on me to get you on my bed every night," he sped up as he spoke filth into your ears.
wonwoo had a special way of making you feel like an object, something which you only enjoyed when it came to him. despite being such a fucking perv, you enjoyed the dynamic you had built, allowing him to play with your body however he saw fit as long as he made you cum. and jesus christ, did he.
"fuck," you felt the end coming near and began to push yourself back against him, grinding into him as much as you could despite his clammy hands having such a tight hold on your hips.
"im gonna make you cream all around me and then im gonna fill you up. okay, baby? then im gonna go back on stream while you keep my bed w- ah fuck. warm for me. if you're a good girl for me, i'll fuck you to sleep afterwards," he rasped out, losing his rhythm even further as he neared his own high.
a few more harsh thrusts later and you were creaming around him, tightening up so much that he, too, reached his peak, filling you up and letting go of your hips, causing you to fall flat against the mattress.
"fuck. baby, never show up like that here again. i almost died," he breathed out as he tried to do a decent job at cleaning you up a bit and tucking you under the covers.
despite his perverted treatment of your body, wonwoo was always sweet to you when his mind wasnt filled with sex (which admittedly wasnt often).
"you act as if i forced you to fuck me," you retaliate despite knowing you did wear that skirt with a specific purpose in mind.
"just shut up and go to sleep, baby. you'll need your energy back soon."
n/a: this is ass im rlly bad at writing men who r not obsessed with their s/o im sorry </33
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radiance1 · 6 months
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De-aged Mothboy Dannyo.
Except this time, he isn't in Jump City and Killer Moth is sadly not his kidnapper turned parent.
Instead, he's in Gotham.
He doesn't really do anything in the City of Crime. To everyone else, he's just a street kid who was unfortunate enough to be abandoned because of his meta status.
Danny's little home is literally a dumpster in an abandoned alleyway that he cleared out of all the trash. He has a mat that he uses as a makeshift bed, and a corner where he stores all his pretty little marbles he gets from dumpster diving, as well as an old backpack he found somewhere to hold all his other stuff.
He did use another Dumpster to expand his little home though, he doesn't know what he'll do with all the extra space really, but he'll find a use for it, probably.
The use was pulling in a bunch of other soft (enough) mats that he managed to find, filling the extra space with all of that, and then laying down on all of it in joy.
How did he make said Dumpster extra space? Simple, he just tore off one of the walls, and stuck them together with a drill and a few nails he managed to buy with his limited amount of money.
Danny... doesn't remember a whole lot. He remembers red, people in white, people who he thinks he knew laying so still. He doesn't try to remember any more than that, it usually hurts.
So, he's just one little kid trying to live his life in the City of Crime. He usually tries to stay away from any gang-controlled area, he couldn't do it all of the time, but he managed good enough. He meets some other street kids, and tries to make friends, but they aren't very receptive to his efforts.
So what does he do?
Bribery!
He has enough money to buy some snacks and stuff, and he does pay for it, no matter how cashier looks at him as if he were going to steal something, to be fair she does that to everyone but still! He's a law-abiding street kid!
Bribery worked very well! The first few times it wasn't anything too special, but after that, they decided that he was one of them now! They tell him stuff about the various gangs and stuff, which ones to avoid, and which area to not go towards because of one incident or another.
They also helped him that one time when he was chased by some really mean people who wanted to take him somewhere and apparently sell him? He didn't wanna hurt them, so he was trying to lose them and go back home, so that he could then get off those weird cuff thingies they put on his lower set of arms that made him feel a strange disconnect for some reason.
So he was running, didn't expect for one of them to have a gun, tried to evade the bullets, one hit him in the leg, then another in his other one, and he hit the pavement. Then they caught up and put some cloth to his face and he started to feel loopy and really tired.
Before he fell unconscious, he heard a loud smack. Then he was woke up to his friends, those weird cuffs gone, his legs having been bandaged and a really nice bed.
So he thanked his friends, and went back home. He gave them each their favorite snacks for their help!
About a month after that, he meets this really kind old guy that he helps carry stuff to his car, he took most of it, puffing out his chest and saying he's got this because he's really, really strong. Then the old guy invited him to come with him for a thank you dinner.
His friends told him not to accept any suspicious offers from strangers, but he helped the guy and he just wants to say thank you. Plus, food.
So he says yes.
He didn't know the old guy- no Alfred, had a giant mansion! His jaw-dropped, awestruck face practically showed what he felt. He then looked at himself, back at the mansion, and almost didn't wanna step in because he's afraid he might dirty it, before being gently pushed inside by Alfred.
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twilightcitysky · 9 months
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Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 1)
I cannot figure out for the life of me how to make gifs so this will have to be a gif-less essay. If anyone more tech savvy than me wants to reblog with relevant media, please do!
I've seen a lot of people saying how Aziraphale's actions in the final ten minutes come out of left field and are OOC, and when I first watched the episode I felt the same, but now I think I couldn't have been more wrong. And I don't think Aziraphale is being controlled... I think the entire season showed us exactly what was going to happen.
On first watch, what struck me was the number of plot points that seemed disconnected. I couldn't figure out how Job related to the present, or the Victorian era, or the Nazi zombies (still at sea on the zombies part tbh). I didn't know where the Maggie/ Nina subplot was going, or why we were bothering with it. Then I put my "psych hat" on and it was like seeing one of those 3D pictures come into focus. It's a psychological networking rather than a plot-driven one, which is what Neil told us to expect.
Detailed analysis under the cut, with spoilers:
I went back through the season in my head and started asking myself: why is this element there? What does it contribute?
1. Start with scene one. Why include it? Does it matter for the climax that Az knew Crowley as an angel? YES. It's actually huge. Angel Crowley was joyful, he was bursting with delight at creation, he was idealistic. He wanted to be a part of everything rather than run away from it, and that's still how Aziraphale feels. He loves being a part of things. He's a joiner. He's a landlord. He dances at clubs and he makes human friends and he learns magic. Crowley the demon doesn't seem to want any of that, and I think that's hard for Az. He wants Crowley to be free of the cynicism he thinks prevents him from enjoying life now. At some level, I think he senses that Crowley is depressed (empathy's not his strong suit but I'm sure he's aware that Crowley's in a "what's the point of it all" kind of mood; see the eccles cakes scene). He wants to fix it. Aziraphale is a fixer. Metatron offers him a chance to do that.
Another thing is that Aziraphale knows Crowley ended up Falling just for asking questions that seemed innocent. That's not okay with him. He thinks that with the two of them in charge they can actually MAKE the changes that Crowley wanted to see way back at the beginning, starting with a suggestion box.
2. Okay, now Jim. Obviously Gabriel/ Jim is the central mystery, but why does he matter? First and foremost: he's there to show Aziraphale that angels can CHANGE. Gabriel terrorized and threatened Aziraphale. Az has been terrified of him. He ordered Aziraphale's execution. And now here he is, drinking hot chocolate, doing noble self-sacrificing things, with morals that suddenly align with Aziraphale's. What an absolute game-changer that must have been! He thought Heaven was unfixable, but here's Gabriel in his shop for weeks, slowly convincing him otherwise.
Then two other things happen. First, they find out that this all happened to Gabriel essentially because he fell in love. He was fired and his memories were stolen and the only reason he recovered was because Beelzebub happened to give him the one thing that could save him. That must have seemed like incredible luck. Now, how does Aziraphale feel about memories? He lives in a bookshop that is stuffed to bursting with the records of all of human history, essentially. His memories of his time with Crowley are incredibly precious. He sees, there at the end, that everything he is can be taken from him as a punishment for falling in love. Aziraphale doesn't have a magic fly container. He'd be forever robbed of Crowley, his life, himself. It's a very real threat in his mind when Metatron intervenes.
Which brings us to the second thing. Metatron saves Gabriel. Not only that, he prevents him from being punished for loving Beelzebub and lets them both go. What better way to win currency with Aziraphale? HE doesn't want to go off to Alpha Centauri, he never has, but suddenly he sees that Metatron might protect his relationship. And he's probably the only entity with the power to do so.
So we come to two conclusions: Aziraphale, when he goes off to talk with Metatron, is feeling like maybe it's not intrinsically bad to be an angel. He believed all the angels sucked, and only God was good... but now he sees that even Gabriel can change. He met Muriel, and he likes them. (He also had a huge crush on angel Crowley, which is neither here nor there but he loves Crowley in all his forms.) So if Crowley became an angel again, would that really be so bad? In his mind, it wouldn't change who Crowley is. It would just make them both safer and allow them to be together. (He's wrong! And Crowley doesn't see it that way! But this is a key miscommunication. Aziraphale doesn't really believe that becoming a demon changed Crowley. Back to the first scene, which Aziraphale references during the Job minisode. In his eyes, Crowley is the same person (just more cynical because of what's happened to him)-- so why would it matter if he's an angel again? I truly don't think he was trying to save Crowley, or saying that Crowley would be Better as an angel. To him, it doesn't matter what Crowley is. Which is reductive and harmful, but not the same as thinking Crowley needs rescuing from himself.)
Second conclusion: he sees that an angel and demon can be in love, but they have to run away to be together. Gabe and Beelz couldn't go home again. Earth is Aziraphale's home, but after the attack on the bookshop he learned that without Heaven's protection he can't really keep them safe there. Metatron says: "Come with me, do this thing, and you can have guaranteed safety AND be with the love of your life". Poor Aziraphale wants this with every fiber of his being. All he's ever wanted was for Crowley to be safe. He's never been able to offer it. Over the past four years, he thought they were safe, but he's just learned that he was wrong.
This is getting long. Continued in Part Two!
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baby-yongbok · 8 months
Text
Encore
Boyfriend!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
Genre - Smut with fluffy moments
Word Count: 4,239
A/N: I started this at 11pm and I finished it at 5am. I am EXHAUSTED the horny took over, seeing Hyunjin with this new hair style just ruined me. This imagine is all over the place - at least it is to me - It really is just a smutty cute mess but I love it, I feel like it's sexy and fun and fluid and yes. Even if it actually sucks ya'll are getting all 4k words 😭Please enjoy it, I worked hard and I'd love to hear feedback. Gosh I'm exhausted.
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✨Masterlist✨
Summary: After the VMA's you and Hyunjin have a bit of a "conversation" about his new look but what starts out spicy ends up being sweet.
Warnings under the cut
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Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Choking, Hair Pulling, Slapping, Window sex?, Forced Creampie?, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Spit play? (very subtle, like you have to squint), Cum Tasting, Corruption kink?, Slight Possessive behavior, Marking, Rough Sex, Aftercare.
(Sorry if I missed anything but I'm pretty sure that's it!)
Reader is called: Angel, Slut, Greedy Girl, Princess, Baby, My Muse
Hyunjin is called: My Prince, Baby
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"Did you have a good time?" Chan asked as you walked down the hallway of your hotel hand in hand with Hyunjin. The three of you were the last ones to get to your rooms. 
"I had an amazing time, that was so much fun." You smile up at Chan and Hyunjin squeezes your hand a bit, a light chuckle leaving his lips. 
"I'm glad I brought you then." Hyunjin comments before stopping in front of your shared room. Chan was a room across from you two so you all said your goodbyes before retreating into your spaces. 
You kicked your heels off and dropped your purse onto the floor next to the bed before turning to your boyfriend. He was stalking towards you slowly as he stripped himself of his expensive blazer. 
"So what was it that you were saying back at the venue?" He asks, a sinister teasing smirk crossing his face. 
"I was saying…" you meet him halfway walking slowly towards him on your tiptoes so that you can attempt to match his height. "How fucking dare you look this good tonight." 
You reach your hands out and run them down his chest. His arm snakes around your waist and pulls you flush against him. "How dare you surprise me with this sexy new look."
You run your hands up his arms and shoulders then run them through his hair petting at his undercut. 
"Sexy, huh?" He smiles at you, his eyes staring into yours with pure lustful amusement. 
"So fucking sexy." You whisper back before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a heated kiss. Your lips dance together in a rough yet slow display of passion while you take the time to taste each other. The taste of the wine that the two of you shared after the show to celebrate the boys' win still lingering on your tongues. 
Hyunjin sighs into the kiss as he starts walking you back towards the bed not daring to disconnect your lips. Just when your legs are about to hit the frame you break the kiss and swiftly switch spots with him sitting him down onto the mattress before you. He grins up at you clearly impressed by your sudden dominance. You hike up your black dress a bit, the split on the side giving him an unholy view of your thigh, he bites his lip at the sight and you smile down at him as you climb onto his lap straddling his frame. 
Your hands snake around his neck and start to play in his hair again, twirling his high ponytail a bit. "Wanna know what I thought the moment I saw you all dressed up tonight? " 
The tone of your voice made Hyunjin harder than he already was if that were even possible. He places his hands on your hips slowly trailing down to your ass, his eyes never leave yours. 
"What did you think, angel?" You bite your lip and lace your fingers around his ponytail before yanking back on it just hard enough to pull his head back and expose his sculpted jaw and long neck. A deep groan leaves his lips at the sharp sensation. 
"I thought that you looked so clean, so sharp, so fucking elegant." You lean down into his neck with a smile before planting kisses along his jaw. "I thought that I just had to ruin that, I had to corrupt that. I've wanted to make a mess of you all night."
Hyunjin's breath catches in his throat as you bite into the flesh of his neck and start to suck at it harshly. 
"Angel" He moaned out as his hands gripped at your waist, his fingers digging into your dress and pinching at your flesh. One of his hands trails up your back before lacing into the roots of your hair and pulling your head back away from his neck. 
"You know you can't mark me right now." He hisses and your grip on his hair loosens as his grip on yours tightens. "You're being such a slut tonight. This is what happens when I take you out?" 
He lets go of your hair and you whimper a bit at the loss of contact, Hyunjin leans back lying down on the bed and bringing you forward with him before grabbing your throat and turning you over so that he's on top of you.
 "I take my girl out to have a good time and all she can think about is fucking me." His words sting like venom and it feels so fucking good. He leans down and leaves a delicate kiss on your lips. His hand slowly leaves your throat and just when you're about to bite back at him with a spicy reply his hand collides with your cheek landing a deliciously sharp slap. He grabs your chin, interrupting your moan and turning your face back to his. 
"Look at me, angel." He whispers sweetly and your thighs press together at the contrast that his voice has to his actions. "You know what I thought when I saw you?"
He removes his hand from your face and looks down towards your exposed leg. The split in your dress now showing all of your plush thigh and some of your ass. "I thought that I just have to fuck you in this dress."
He reaches down and slowly trails his hand up your exposed leg. His nails scratching at your skin. You're so pent up with lust that this simple action makes your back arch up off of the mattress. 
"I thought about how sexy it would be to eat my princesses pussy while she's wearing Versace." He slaps the outside of your thigh making you moan. "I could've snuck my hand up under your dress whenever I wanted tonight. I could've teased you." 
He leans back down into your neck and nips at your jaw all the way up to your ear before whispering. "Would you have liked that? If I teased you, pulled you aside in the dressing room and fucked you dumb after we performed?"
You can feel him smile against you as you moan deeply in response. Your thighs pressed together desperately trying to relieve some of the tension building up. 
"I would've loved that." You run your hands down his body before you reach the tent in his pants. You palm at his erection, stroking him over the fabric. He hisses at the sensation, a breathy moan following as he drops his head down onto your shoulder. 
"I've been holding back all night." He whispers out and you bite your lip before whispering back. 
"Me too." He pulls away from you quickly planting both feet on the floor and taking you in swiftly, your curly hair is splayed across the mattress, your thigh is fully exposed and he can see a hint of your black thong. 
"Fuck it." He hisses sharply before grabbing your ankles and pulling your ass to the edge of the bed. Your dress rides up more now showing most if not all of your thong. "I need you, angel." 
Hyunjin drops to his knees in front of you, he hastily pushes your dress up around your hips and moves your thong to the side before diving into your soaked cunt. His tongue licks up your dripping heat and draws imaginary shapes into your pussy right after. His movements are harsh and hungry, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pushes them up for you to hold to your chest and give him a full view of you. 
"Oh my gosh" You moan out as your back arches off of the mattress, your mouth falling open with silent whines failing to escape. "Hyunjin, fuck." 
You've wanted him all night and now you've finally got him. His blushed lips moving hungrily against your cunt, animalistic groans erupting from his throat and vibrating through you as you try your best to stay in place for him. He pulls away, a naughty grin on his lips as he takes a second to wipe his chin. 
"Is this what you wanted?" He lands a firm pop on your cunt and your legs nearly close at the sensation. "Come on, princess, keep yourself open for me."
 He reaches down and unbuckles his belt with one hand as the other flicks at your swollen clit.
"Keep that pretty pussy on display for me." You whine at the stimulation, your grip on your thighs getting lighter and lighter the better that he makes you feel. "Who's pussy is this?"
"Yours." You moan out quickly hoping that if you're good for him he'll taste you again. A chuckle leaves his lips as his finger trails from your clit to your sopping entrance. He slowly slides his long digit into you and your legs fall against the mattress. You fight to keep your thighs apart as his finger slowly moves inside you. He adds two more quickly filling you up and giving you very little time to adjust. 
"This pussy is mine." He growls, leaning down to nip at your inner thigh. "But you were showing off this pretty body today like you wanted it to be someone else's." 
You groan in protest before forcing out a reply. "And what about you?" 
His fingers stop suddenly before he removes them from you completely. He lands another pop on your cunt before standing from his knees and pulling his belt from the loops of his pants. He drops the belt to the floor and props his bent knee onto the mattress so that he can lean over your curvy frame. 
"What about me?" His eyes search yours; they're dark and piercing but you don't dare to look away from him. "I was giving you a show, my angel."
"And I was giving you one, my prince." Your hand caresses his cheek softly and he leans into your touch. "You looked amazing, you performed well." 
Hyunjin smiles down at you softly. "I only performed well because I had you cheering me on." He leans down and plants a gentle kiss on your nose and then your cheeks making you smile. He kisses all over your face before hungrily attaching his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. 
"So you were giving me a show, huh?" He asks, pulling away from your lips just enough to speak. You shake your head in confirmation and suddenly hear the zipper to Hyunjins pants as he pulls them down a bit with one hand. "How about an encore?"
"My pleasure." Your lips are on each other again instantly as the two of you grab at each other's clothes. His fingers pull at the thin straps of your dress and yours fight to remove his pants in quick lustful movements. The sound of fabric slightly ripping fills the air but neither of you seem to care.
You wrap your arms around his neck allowing him to help you sit up so that he can unzip the back of your dress. He peels it off of you in what feels like slow motion but in reality was much quicker. His hands immediately start to toy with your exposed chest and you moan into his mouth as his thumbs toy at your sensitive nipples. You finally win the fight with his pants pulling them down and allowing them to pool around his ankles. You move your body closer to his so that you can properly rid him of his boxers, the black fabric sliding down his strong thighs and exposing his hardened member. 
"Come here" Hyunjin whispers against your lips before reconnecting them and backing up slowly leading you off of the bed. Once your feet hit the floor your dress does too, you step out of the pool of fabric and Hyunjin does the same with his pants and boxers. He pulls away once again to rid himself of his black shirt before gently grabbing your waist and diving into the crook of your neck. His teeth sink into the flesh of your neck and he sucks harshly, it's your turn to moan at the sharp sensation as he leaves deep red marks on your skin. 
"I thought we couldn't mark each other?" You ask breathlessly. 
"You can't mark me." He answers, pulling away from you to admire his work. "I can do whatever I want to you." 
His hands travel down your sides and up your back taking in every inch of your skin. Your hands do the same exploring every inch of his naked frame. Your hand found one of his and you interlaced your fingers before leading him over to the large window that your hotel room had, a grand view of the city on display before you. You let go of his hand and walked over to the chair placed at the desk next to you, moving it in front of the window. Hyunjin watched you with dark curious eyes and you couldn't help but to smile. 
"Sit" You prompted and he slowly obeyed, sitting with his forearms on the armrests and his legs spread apart giving you a beautiful view of his cock and balls. 
You stood in between his legs and held two fingers out to him. Without either of you saying a word he wrapped his lips around your fingers sucking and getting them wet for you. As you started to retract them he grabbed your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours. He pursed his lips and spit onto your fingers licking his lips after with a grin. You whimpered at the sight before taking those fingers and spreading his spit over or cunt adding lubrication to your entrance. You turned around giving him a full view of your plump ass and reached back to spread your cheeks for him. A groan left his lips and his hand lightly grabbed at your waist to guide you towards his aching cock. He helped you position yourself before you sunk down onto him. His dick stretching you deliciously.  
"Oh baby." His head falls back and your fingers dig into his thighs. You immediately start to move, sliding up and down his hard member at a moderate pace. The fact that neither of you had much time to adjust made the sensations so much more intense. 
"Look at me, angel." You turn to look back at him, grabbing his shoulder to keep you steady. "You're so fucking beautiful." 
You moan at his praise and your body reacts by bouncing against him faster. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Hyunjin shifts you so that you’re turned back towards the window and grabs your waist with both hands. He holds you still against him before thrusting into you roughly, keeping you in place with his grip. Strangled moans leave your parted lips as he fucks into you deeper than before. 
"Fuck, yes yes." Your nails dig into his thighs and you're sure that there will be marks there later. His grunts intertwine with your moans as the two of you build yourselves closer and closer to release. The pent up lust from the eventful night bubbling in your stomach. 
"Baby, wait I-" You're cut off by your own moan when Hyunjin thrusts into you rougher than before. "I wanna see you." 
Hyunjin thrusts two more times before pulling out of you and sitting back into the chair breathlessly, he looks past you for a second. The lights of the city catching his eye, he stares for a second before looking back up at you and smiling. 
"I could paint this." His smile grows wider as the idea sinks in and he quickly pushes himself up out of the chair and rushes over to the side of the bed where his pants lay on the floor and searches for his phone. You giggle as your naked partner stalks back over to you with his phone in hand, the camera facing you as you stand naked in front of the floor to ceiling window. 
"Smile for me, angel." You do as you're told posing for him as he snaps photos of you. 
"My beautiful muse." His words come out in a whisper and you can't help but to blush. 
"Can I fuck you now? I was in the middle of your encore." He smiles over at you, locking his phone and dropping it into the chair. 
"Please, continue the show." He sits on the edge of the bed leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows. 
You sashay over to him, your hands resting on his shoulders when you reach him. You climbed onto his strong frame and swiftly slid his cock into your tight hole. 
"Fuck, someone's eager." He grunts out and you moan back in response. 
"I've wanted you all night." You bounce against him slowly, taking his full length inside of you. You make sure to swirl your hips when he fills you to the hilt and you moan out at the sensation. 
"Why are you so fucking tight." His eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are low and lidded as he watches you ride him. Your tits bouncing and your curly hair swaying with the movement of your hips. You reach up behind him and grip his ponytail again, pulling at it so that his lidded eyes met yours. You're not sure who looks more fucked out right now but you're positive that you're both down bad for each other. 
"Harder." He whispers and you happily oblige, pulling his hair harder, your other hand tugging at the short hair of his undercut. A deep satisfied groan leaves him and your pussy clenched at the sound of it. "Fuck it, mark me baby."
You waste no time leaning in and sinking your teeth into his neck, you suck harshly right next to the purple mark that you left earlier and Hyunjin moans at the feeling. The sharp pain of your teeth against his sensitive skin making his cock twitch. He leans you both all the way back and props his feet up on the bed frame. He thrusts into you jackhammer style and you can't help but to bite harder on his skin. 
"Angel, I'm close." You pull away from his neck with a trail of spit connecting you to him. He sticks out his tongue to collect the drool falling from your lips as your mouth hangs open and gaspy moans escape you. 
"Please don't stop." You beg quietly, your eyes closed tightly as you try to concentrate on your pleasure. Hyunjin leans up as he pounds into you, licking the drool from the corner of your mouth and kissing you sloppily. 
"I won't stop, princess. I won't stop." He fucks into you mercilessly, hitting your sweet spot continuously. You can feel the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and tighter and you groan at the build of lust. 
"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, fuck" Your words are breathy and rushed as your pussy clenches around him. Hyunjin's eyes squeeze shut as he feels you contract around him, he groans as your cunt milks his own orgasm out of him. 
"Fuck baby, get off, I'm gonna cum." He pushes at your waist to get you off of him but you resist grinding down against him. "Baby, I can't hold back." 
He moans at the sight of you fucked out and drooling above him, sitting up to better force yourself down onto him. 
"I want your cum, please" That's all you had to say to make Hyunjin break. His nails scratch down your sides before gripping at the sheets desperately as he fills you. His thigh muscles tense at the new sensation of finishing inside of you. He's never had an orgasm as intense as the one he's had tonight.
"Angel.." He moans out but he meant for it to be the start of a sentence. You slowly lift up off of him hovering above him in a squat as he holds you stable by your hips. He watches as his cum drips out of your abused hole and he swore that he could bust again at the sight of it. 
You reach down and scoop up some of his arousal with two of your fingers, you slide your cum covered fingers into your mouth savoring the taste of him and you both let out a low moan. 
"Princess, we should get cleaned up." You lower yourself back onto his pelvis. His semi-hard dick nestled between his skin and your cunt. Mindlessly, you start to grind against him, the semen dripping from your hole being used as lube to glide your slick cunt against him. 
"More." You whisper, your now lidded fucked out eyes never leaving his.  "I didn't make you a mess yet." 
Hyunjin moans at the overstimulation lightly grabbing at your hips to try to stop your movement. "Fuck, that's s-so much. So fucking good."
You lean forward a bit, resting your hands on his chest as you move your hips against him. Moans and whines fall from your lips as his cock head bumps against your clit giving you the perfect amount of stimulation. The room is filled with your panting moans and the wet sounds of your cum covered skin rubbing against each other. Hyunjin reaches up and firmly grips your neck applying pressure to the sides drawing a hum of satisfaction from you. 
"Such a greedy girl." You grind against his now fully erect cock quicker and sloppier. You reach forward with both hands and return the favor caging his neck beneath your fingers and pressing slightly at the sides. 
"I want to ruin you." You groan out breathlessly and Hyunjin's eyes flutter shut at the sound. His tongue dipping out of his slightly parted lips and his brows furrowed. 
"You always do." He whispers with his eyes still shut. "Only you."
"You're mine." You gasp out as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach tighten. 
"And you're mine." He groans out. He opens his eyes and they immediately land on yours. His face is red and his eyes are lazy. Your eyes mirror his with a deep blush covering your skin. 
"We ruin each other." He takes his hand from your throat and leaves a firm smack on your cheek. "Then put each other back together." 
His hand grips at your throat again, pulling you into him as your hips desperately buck against him. 
"Now fall apart for me." As if he flipped a switch your orgasm came rushing over you, your legs shaking against the mattress and your body falling against his. Hyunjin groans as he releases again, reaching his high right as yours starts to subside. You can feel his warm sticky cum against your stomach and you grin slightly at the feeling. 
"Fuck." You both whisper at the same time then chuckle lightly. 
"Are you happy now?" He asks against your ear as he strokes your hair pushing it out of your face. 
"So happy."
"Am I still sexy?" He asks and you can hear the smirk in his voice. 
"So sexy." He laughs from under you and you smile into his shoulder. 
"Let me clean you up." He prompts, lifting you a bit and sliding you off of him. The feeling of his arousal smearing against both of your stomachs making you giggle. 
He slowly pushed himself off of the bed and stretched before wandering over to the bathroom. You could hear the water running and Hyunjin lightly humming to himself, something he always did as he initiated aftercare. He comes back Into the room in a hotel robe and leans over you, wiping down your body carefully while humming. You watch him closely as his eyes wander your body searching for spots to clean with the cloth. Your hand slowly reaches up to touch his forearm shifting his attention towards you, his eyes meet yours and a curious look crosses his face. You smile up at him softly and take a deep breath
"You really were amazing tonight."
"Are you referring to the sex or the award show?" He raises an eyebrow at you playfully and you swat at his arm.
"The award show… well both, but mostly the show." He chuckles at you shaking his head. "Really, I'm so proud of you."
He smiles down at you and his fingers rub smooth circles into the skin of your stomach. "Thank you, baby. That means everything coming from you."
He leans down and kisses your nose and forehead before going back to cleaning you up. 
"You were amazing tonight too." He hums.
"You enjoyed your encore?" You asked, smiling playfully. 
"How could I not with a performer this stunning?" He returns your smile and you sit up completely, hugging his waist. He lays a hand on the back of your head and strokes your hair lightly. 
"Thank you angel, for your unending support, whether it be in the bedroom or outside of it I'm grateful for all that you give me." You look up to find that he's already looking down at you with a fond smile. His eyes are sparkling like he could cry any second and you can't help but hug him tighter. 
"I'll always be here to cheer you on." 
"And I'll always be thankful for that."
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