#I was kind of struggling in the beginning stages of it but once I got it down then it was super fun

[mossy-paws]

Commission! (PHIGHTING!)

WOOHOOO finished commission for @/.r9cket on discord :3! This was a really fun project to work on + I learned a lot of things with it!

commissions are currently closed as I’m backed up at the moment with other owed art pieces and art fight reference sheets! I’ll probably open them in a few weeks once I get done with some of these other projects I have, but for now they are closed indefinitely >:3!

[samkerrworshipper]

warmed - mapi leon x reader

just r cockwarming mapi.. not much more to it lol

ik i keep promising yall angst… its coming… at some stage

warnings: smut 18+

You’re overstimulated.

To the point where your skin is beginning to itch with the want and need that is pooling up in the pit of your stomach, right where you feel so full and so empty at the same time.

You fucked up, you were well aware of it, it wasn’t like you could make up for it now.

This though, this was so rewarding and unrewarding at the same time, you were stuffed full to the very brim which was perfect, but also so unfulfilling at the same time.

“Keep still or we start over.”

Mapi’s words are a brutal reminder of exactly what position you are in, crammed down against her lap, ass flush to her hips whilst you try your very hardest not to grind or jostle against her.

An hour and thirty minutes.

That’s how long you’ve been sitting in Mapi’s lap like this, no pleasure, no release, no relief.

The two of you had to rewatch your game from yesterday anyways, so Maria had set you the task of staying still whilst she analysed the match against Levante.

You were supposed to be analysing it as well, but it was kind of hard to pay attention when you were filled to the brim with 7 inches of silicone cock.

You wished Maria had given you the easy way out, wished she’d spanked you or edged you or done something else that would make you feel something besides mellowed out pressure.

“Maria.”

Your words are whined out for the room to hear, not that there is anybody else in your company.

“Eyes on the screen, carino.”

Your eyes struggle to obey her command, your pupils stuck to your naked bottom half that’s unmoving.

“I won’t say it again, eyes on the screen unless you want a spanking once we’re done.”

Your eyes snap up, what you want once this is done is for Mapi to fuck you senseless, you aren’t sure if you can handle another minute with her just idly sitting inside you.

“Eight more minutes princesa, you think you can hold up for me until then?”

You groan at her, you want to say no, but the words can’t make it past your lips, Maria seems to understand though.

“Tough luck, make it through the eight minutes or else you won’t cum for the rest of the week. I’m sick of your shit attitude and bratty fucking mouth, you have to learn some way.”

Mapi’s voice is gritty, you know that she wanted nothing more than to come back from dinner, cuddle up on the couch and watch the game replay before the two of you went to bed together.

She wanted soft, sweet, tender.

You wanted mean, rough and hard.

You supposed this was the halfway point, it was Maria’s way of punishing you without giving in to what you wanted.

You’d been obtusely bratty and cheeky.

The two of you had been invited out for dinner with Alexia and Olga, a little quaint double date to a cute boutique Italian restaurant in Barcelona’s core.

It was nice, everything had been going well, until you’d made the decision to start teasing Mapi.

It had started with a hand on her exposed thigh, then your fingers drawing patterns up and down, pushing her skirt out of the way as you paved a path through to her panties.

You were out of your mind thinking Mapi would let it slide, she told you as much when she leant over to your ear telling you not to push her. You’d blatantly ignored her, continuing your attempts at one upping the defender. You got as far as the inside edge of her panties before her hand was grabbing yours and shoving it into your lap with a look of so much annoyance that you knew you were in deep shit.

Now you were here, sitting practically speared on her dick, your juices leakingout all over her thighs and your own.

You watched the clock run down, your eyes aimlessly following the ball as it was passed from side to side on the pitch.

Your legs were aching from the position you were being held in, your thighs being put to use to keep you from moving.

“Maria, please.”

You knew that most likely, your begging was going to be pointless, normally Mapi couldn’t of cared less, but it was worth a shot.

“Say one more word and you’ll see just how much worse this can get for you.”

You close your lips, your eyes staying laser focused on the screen as the clock ticks down on the game.

The last thirty seconds are possibly the worst, your legs start to burn and everything is so much more painful.

As soon as the final whistle blows on the game Mapi is turning you around, so you are now face to face with the Spaniard.

“This is how it’s going to go, we’re going to go to bed, I’m going to fuck you how I like, until I’m satisfied, you won’t cum, you won’t move unless you’re told, all you are here for is to be my little slut for my pleasure, not your own, comprendida?”

You can’t do anything beyond nodding your head.

Mapi picks you up with ease, lifting you up and taking you straight to the bedroom.

Just the feeling of her cock jolting inside of you every few seconds has you moaning, Mapi doesn’t care, all she cares about is getting you to where she wants you.

She manhandles and roughouses you onto the bed, pushing you up against the pillows and spreading your legs open before beginning to move inside of you.

Mapi’s pace is nowhere near fast or rigorous enough to satisfy you, when she said that she was searching for her own pleasure you didn’t realise that she would quite literally use your body as a vessel for her orgasm.

There is no doubt in your mind that Mapi has the little vibe insert tucked into the strap.

Her thrusts into you are shallow, hitting none of the spots that you need her to.

It’s crazily unpleasurable, and yet you don’t find yourself minding too much, especially not when Maria is the picture of perfection, her messy bun bopping up and down, her moans echoing out across the room.

You focus on Mapi, completely syncing out of your own mind, trying to imagine how Mapi is feeling.

You know that your supposed ‘punishment’ would have gotten her worked up, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

She’s chasing a built up desire, deep pure pleasure thrumming through her lower limbs.

Maria isn’t a overly loud lover, but you can tell just by the way her eyebrows are scrunched up and her pupils are blown that she is teetering somewhere on the edge, you aren’t quite sure where she’s at until her legs spasm and her whole body jerks.

Mapi cums hard and fast, her body thrusting into yours until the after effects of her orgasm have managed to rid her body and she pulls out.

You feel emptier than you ever have, most likely a result of being stuffed full for hours on end.

Mapi makes quick work of removing the strap, once she does she lies herself down on the bed next to you, letting you breathe through the big feelings that you are experiencing.

“How are you feeling, princesa?”

Mapi’s hands are on your face, twisting the strays hairs out of your face and gently playing with them between her fingers.

“Good, just need a second.”

Your legs feel heavier than a hundred bricks, numb and weighed down to the point where you genuinely wonder whether they’ll be in use tomorrow.

“You want to cum? I think you’ve earned it, you were such a good little girl for me, princesa.”

You do want your own orgasm, you think that your cunt will implode if it doesn’t get to experience some relief, but you need a few minutes to recover from the last hours happenings.

“Just gimme a minute, seeing you like that made me think and feel things I never had.”

Mapi’s smirk was cheeky, cavalier and slightly proud.

“Mm, next time it’ll have to be three hours, hmm? I wonder how crazy that would make you.”

You shake your head at the suggestion immediately, an hour and a half had been pushing it, 3 hours was simply ridiculous.

“How about I promise to never be a brat again?”

Mapi rolls her eyes, her mouth reaching down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“We both know that would be a lie, carino. You’re my bratty girl and I wouldn’t dare have you any other way. Now how about we go get clean in the shower and I let you get off on my thigh, hm? You’ve been good but not good enough to deserve my mouth or fingers, you’ll have to work your way up to that.”

You nod eagerly at Maria, already willing your legs to begin moving so that Mapi can’t take back what she’s just said to you.

When Mapi realises that you need some assistance, she picks you up, gently carrying you towards the bathroom.

[hitomisuzuya]

OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY! This is my first time requesting and I wanted to ask for step brother Scaramouche Fluff for readers because they’ve been really stressed recently about school, 😔 (can we tell this is about me😭) I love your writing tysm!

Stepcest, even though it's fluff, DNI if it makes you uncomfortable. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Fluffy fluff fluff. Soft Scara.

Because everyone needs a little comfort and stress relief🥺

Scaramouche was two kinds of annoyed. Annoyed and really annoyed. With him, two modes of annoyance at the same time was possible. He was annoyed because you were sitting too far away from. He was playing video games in the living room, while you were in the kitchen busy with schoolwork. He played better his beloved stepsister was next to him, praising him in some way for playing well. (He also likes to have you by his side).

But, mode really annoyed was because every time he glanced into the kitchen, he noticed the following things snowballing despite your brave face.

Your fingers were starting to shake. Your breathing, though quiet indicated that your heart was racing. Your posture was rigid and stiff, your body coiling with stress.

Scaramouche did not like it when you were stressed. He knew school was demanding (not like he had to study much cause he got good grades effortlessly), but you were piling too much on yourself at once. And eventually it would to one thing.

One thing he couldn't stand.

One thing he started to hear the beginning to stages of: you started to cry.

His eyes snapped away from the TV the moment he heard the first soft sniffle. He froze, not even pressing pause on his game. He didn't even notice nor care that the monsters killed his character.

You were crying.

And he hates it.

"Scara, I don't know what to do," You said shakily, looking up at him as you hastily brushed tears away from eyes that were way too pretty to have tears like that in them, "It just keeps piling up. I dunno how I am going to get this shit done."

Scaramouche was already getting up off the couch to go to you. "Stop that," He said, and it wasn't said in a mean way. He just can't stand to see you cry. He hastily scooped up your books and notebooks, moving them all the way down the table away from you.

"Scara, I am nowhere near being done yet," You protested, reaching across the table for your stuff. Scaramouche hastily pushed it further down the table.

"No you don't. You are finished tonight," He replied firmly, "You have another week to get this done. What are you doing trying to do it all at once?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

"But Scara, I--" You tried to protest. He cut you off by putting a finger on your lips.

"You are coming to the living room with me," He added, taking hold of your wrist. He knew you looked and felt way too tired to protest or struggle anymore. "I am going to teach you how to play the videogame I just got."

"Scara, I'm not going to be any good. It's a first person shooter, I'm not good at those," However, your feeble protest as he pulled you to your feet fell on deaf ears. You looked more nervous, but in a cute way. Not a stressed one, which was important.

You absolutely were afraid of completely playing badly in front of him. How cute.

Before you knew it, Scaramouche seated you on the couch next to him, restarted the mission (with some quiet swearing at bullshit monsters), and handed you the controller.

You stared at the controller, unsure of what to do. The way his heart fluttered when you looked up at him for guidance. It was such a pure hearted, soft look. You looked at him like he was the only person in this world that you wanted and trusted to guide you.

Fucking hell he is so in love with you.

"I've got you," Scaramouche said, moving so that he sat behind you on the couch. He put his hands over yours on the controller, bringing your back to rest against his chest. "This is what you do, aim, and press A to fire."

His voice was like soothing velvet on your ears. You felt warm, and safe in his embrace. The tension was slowly ebbing out of your body. The rhythm of his breathing against your back quieted your heart rate. Scaramouche is the center of your world.

He guided your fingers on the buttons and joy stick for a bit. When he saw you get comfortable with the mechanics, he took his hands off of yours. He was proud you picked up the game mechanics so quickly. And you let out the cutest little laughs every time you hit what you were aiming at.

You are having fun. His mission was accomplished.

"That's my good girl," Scaramouche put a hand on your head, he always gave the best headpets, "Shooting like a pro," He peeked around to see the shy blush on your cheeks.

"Hey, Scara?" You said after awhile, handing him the controller, "Can I just watch you play for awhile?" You sounded sleepy. "I think one of the bigger bosses is coming up, and I don't think I can handle him."

"Scared?" He teased, smirking when he heard your shy squeak.

"No, I just want to watch you play for awhile," You looked away shyly as you moved to rest your head in his lap. It was always relaxing for you to watch Scaramouche play video games. You got to see his experience playing, plus your own experience watching the game.

Pretty good deal, honestly.

For Scaramouche all was right with the world. As right as it could be, anyways. You were by his side, tucked safely in his lap where he could protect you from, well, life.

Before long, you were asleep. Carefully, so as not to wake you, Scaramouche reached for the blanket on the couch and draped it over you. He would wake you up in a few hours to carry you upstairs to your room.

[gvcci-bxby]

the arrangement (mini series) - chapter 1: good morning and goodbye

pairing: neteyam sully x omatikaya reader

word count: 2.1k

summary: enemies to lovers trope; you and neteyam are enemies, destined to be the future leaders of the omatikaya clan. will you continue to hate each other or find a way for the arranged mate ship to work?

warning: angst, v light cussing, complex past between characters, prolly some misspellings lol.

announcement: this is the first chapter of my first ever mini series! I'm so excited to write the rest and make a full story out of this <3 stay tuned for the rest! enjoy!

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

The sun shone bright through the thick branches of the trees, the light blinding your eyes. You held your arm up, struggling to block the sun from your eyes. You made your way from your home to the center of the Omatikaya village, gathering for the morning meeting. The village was busy, villagers finishing up their breakfast quickly to make the beginning of the meeting. 

You sighed, scanning the crowd to find your family. They had left before you, irritated at your lack of awareness of the time. After a moment, you saw the back of your mother and navigated your way through the crowd of bodies. You nudged your way through, getting closer to your mom. 

“Oh, finally” your mother said, once you tapped her when you got to her, “I told your father I was going to skin you if you were late.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing again. “I’m here mother; I told you I’d be here.” 

Your mother shook her head, looking from you towards the front of the crowd. “You never find these meetings important.” 

You shrugged, already annoyed by being there. You looked towards the front of the crowd, too, waiting for the village meeting to start. There had been rumors of sky-people approaching the village territory and Jake Sully, the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya clan, requested that the village gathers together to discuss what to do if the sky-people were to invade. 

After a moment, Jake walked onto the platform, his family close behind him. Your eyes scanned the rest of the family, your eyes grazing each one of them. Neytiri, Jake’s mate, stood close to Jake, listening closely to Jake’s speech. Their children Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, and Neteyam stood in a line next to Neytiri. You sharply inhaled when your eyes landed on Neteyam, grimacing at the way his chest puffed up, his eyes grazing the audience. Suddenly, you and Neteyam made eye-contact and you clenched your jaw. Neteyam smirks, looking away and breaking eye-contact with you after a moment. 

You and Neteyam had a long, extensive history. You had been familiar with each other since the day you were born and have had problems with each other since. There was always a rivalry between each other, always trying to prove you were better than each other and never able to understand each other the same way other young Na’vi were able to. It also didn’t help that you were rumored to be paired to be future Tsahìk and Olo’eyktan. 

For the rest of the meeting, you avoided looking at Neteyam, too afraid to find him looking back at you. When the meeting is over, you go to turn around, but your mom grabs ahold of your bicep spinning you back around. 

 “Come with me,” Your mother says, tapping your father’s shoulder signaling to follow her too. 

You struggle against her grip, but eventually submitting under her grasp. Your mom dragged you to the front of the stage, meeting the Sullys. Your stomach dropped as you rounded the corner, running right into Neteyam. 

“Y/n,” Neteyam said, peering down at you. You huffed in response, turning your body towards Jake and Neytiri. 

Your parents bowed at the sight of Jake and Neytiri and you followed knowing that if you didn’t you’d get an earful once you got home. Plus, you liked the Sullys; they were great leaders, such kind people and you were friends with Kiri. However, you always wondered if Neteyam was adopted. There was no way a rude Na’vi such as Neteyam was created by Jake and Neytiri. 

“Please, don’t feel the need to bow.” Jake said, lifting your mother’s posture to stand up straight. 

Your mother smiled, nodding. She folded her hands in front of her, trying to be best on her best behavior. “You wanted to speak with us, Jake?” 

The wind blew, causing a chill to run up for your body. You wished you had brought a cover-up, but you were deceived by the bright, warm sun that entered your home when you were on your way out earlier. 

Jake waved his kids away, telling them to finish their chores. Neteyam went to join his siblings, but his father grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. “Not you, Neteyam.” Jake said, shooting his son a scowl.

“Yes, I wanted to discuss Y/N and Neteyam’s future together.” Jake said, letting Neytiri grasp his bicep with her small hands. 

“We thought it would be important to have them become acquainted with each other considering their… complex history.” Neytiri said, trying to keep a smile on her face towards the end. 

You could almost feel your mother’s excitement beside you. When you had been born, wood sprites from the tree of souls surrounded you acknowledging your pure soul. Since then, Jake and Neytiri determined you would be the perfect for their first-born son, Neteyam. As long as you could remember, you were to be Neteyam’s mate. Every female in the Omatikaya has told you how lucky you are because you would be the future Tsahìk and mate to the gorgeous Neteyam Sully. The first part you knew was true, you would be the future Tshaìk, but the part about Neteyam being ‘gorgeous’ was debatable. At least for now. 

You felt nauseous, the thought of discussing you and Neteyam having a future, together, was too much. 

“I agree,” Your father said, “They will be mated soon, correct?” 

Neytiri nodded, a smile reappearing on her face. You always thought she was beautiful. “Yes, we should plan a ceremony to introduce them to the clan as a pair and future leaders in case anything were to happen to me and Jake during one of these raids by the sky-people.” Her eyes nervously shifted to Jake, thinking about anything happening to her or her mate. 

You crossed your arms, looking away. You noticed Neteyam glancing at you and looking down at the ground, his braids covering his face. In the moment, listening to your parents discuss your future with Neteyam, you couldn’t help but think of all the times you and Neteyam had a spat with each other. 

There was the time he whispered about you to his friends as you walked by, sneaking up behind you to pull your tail. You hissed; he laughed shaking his head at your reaction. There was also the time you slept in a hammock, your body exhausted from chores and Neteyam tipped you over, leaving you to stumble to the ground. Prank after prank, they continued to get irritating as the years went on. During training, your relationship never eased. Both you and Neteyam aimed to outdo each other every chance you got. Eventually, each of your friends suggested it would be best to stay away from each other. 

Your mother patted your shoulder, bringing you back into the conversation and out of your thoughts. “Are you listening, y/n?” she asks, a curious look on her face. 

You nodded, “Yes, I am.” 

Beside you, Neteyam snickered knowing very well that you weren’t listening at all. 

“Got something to say, son?” Jake asked, looking towards Neteyam.

Neteyam’s ears went back, and he shook his head, “No sir.” 

Jake nodded, “Good, I didn’t think so.” 

Neytiri rolled her eyes, re-focusing back on the topic at hand. “So, we thought it would be good to encourage Neteyam and Y/N to get to know each other and create some sort of bond before the ceremony.” 

“Mom I-,” Neteyam said, his eyes widening. Jake shushes Neteyam, shooting him a disappointed look. Neteyam focuses his gaze on the ground again. You laughed softly, shaking your head at the idea of dating Neteyam in preparation to be officially mated and formerly introduced to the clan. 

Jake clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. Neytiri’s hands fell of his arm, and she frowned at his abrupt movement. 

“I’ve had it with both of your shenanigans, constantly arguing with each other. You’re both destined to be the future leaders of this clan it’s about time you start acting like it.” Jake said, pointing his finger at you and Neteyam. “I don’t know where this rivalry between you two came from, but it has to end. You are going to be mated, very soon if it’s up to me, and it’s much easier to at least like your mate rather than be miserable for the rest of your life. End of story.” 

You felt your teeth clench, your face heating up with embarrassment from being scolded by the Olo’eyktan. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Neteyam peak a look at you and then back at the ground. 

Your mother sniffed, trying to break the silence. “Shall we leave the children to talk and have tea at our home?” she said, looking at your father for support. 

Jake and Neytiri agreed, leaving you and Neteyam alone together with one final look. For a second, you stood in front of Neteyam awkwardly. Then, you thought how insane this was, mating with Neteyam. You could never be physically, or spiritually, tied to Neteyam. You didn’t want to, you wouldn’t. 

“Good morning,” Neteyam said, drawing a blank at what to say to you. He regretted his choice of wording when he saw your face. 

“Good morning, and goodbye.” You said, turning to march away from him. 

“Y/n,” Neteyam called after you, “Stop, for one second.” 

You walked away, not turning around to meet his request. You only got a few feet away from him when you felt a hand on your shoulder, spinning you around. 

You are greeted by Neteyam’s tall stature, peering through your eyelashes at him. Neteyam crossed his arms once you fully faced him. 

“We need to talk about this,” Neteyam said

“No, we don’t because it’s not happening.” You said, crossing your arms to match him.

“I don’t think we have a choice, Y/n” 

You scoffed, “Yes the hell we do, we can’t be forced into a mateship. I won’t be forced into a mateship, especially with you.” 

Neteyam rolled his eyes, although he was slightly amused by your attitude. He had submitted to the idea of being your mate long ago, his parents talking about it any chance they get. Although he wasn’t fond of the idea, his clan came first even if that meant being in an arranged courtship. 

“Look,” Neteyam said with a huff, “I don’t want to do this just as much as you but I’m tired of being targeted by my dad’s wrath because of your distain for me. I know we’ve had a complicated past but we’re adults now, about to be presented as future leaders of the clan. We should just move on.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, sure. You get to decide when we move on when I’ve been the one subjected to your childish and vicious pranks.” 

“I haven’t prank you in a while and only because I knew us mating would be coming up soon.” 

Your jaw dropped open slightly, “thanks for sparing me, Neteyam.” You turned around, walking away to exit the conversation. Neteyam didn’t miss a beat, only a pace behind you. 

“Y/n, stop being stubborn.” Neteyam said, adjusting his pace to match yours. 

“I’m not being stubborn; I just don’t want to mate with you.”

Neteyam grimaced at your tone and abruptness. “We don’t have a choice and like I said, I’m tired of being yelled at by my dad about this whole thing.” 

You stayed silent the rest of the short walk to your home. Neteyam let you be, continuing to walk beside you until you reached your front door. You turned around to look at Neteyam briefly who stood a few feet from you. 

When you made eye-contact, a weird feeling coursed through you. When you looked at his face, you saw Neteyam as a small child, his shoulder length braids framing his round cheeks. For a moment, you thought you saw the innocence in him, the mutual experience of being forced into a courtship and the weight of being leaders of an entire clan. You had heard rumors from other female Na’vi in the clan, learning about his kind and gentle side from them. You never understood where his anger towards you came from, but you always assumed it was the resistance against having his mate chosen for him. You had felt that same anger too. At the same time, you almost, just almost, saw the attractiveness that buzzed around the Omatikaya girls as he stood on your doorstep after walking you back home. His tall stature, his defined chest…

You shook the feelings off, breaking eye-contact. “Bye, Neteyam.” 

You stepped in the doorway, beginning to close the door. Neteyam reached out, his hand holding the door open. “I’ll pick you up at noon tomorrow.” Before you could say anything, Neteyam was gone. 

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with Vanity Fair (2024)

If you looked up the phrase “booked and busy,” you’d probably find a picture of Jonathan Bailey. The British actor broke out as Lord Anthony Bridgerton, whose love story took center stage in the second season of Netflix’s eponymous hit romance. He captured even more hearts as Tim Laughlin, a McCarthy-era conservative turned radical queer leftist in Showtime’s epic limited series Fellow Travelers, and will soon star as another eligible bachelor, Fiyero, in Jon M. Chu’s two-part Wicked adaptation—a part Bailey scored after Chu found clips of the actor singing online. “The fact that it was a YouTube video that got me the job is kind of wild and incredible,” Bailey says on this week’s episode of Little Gold Men.

On top of all that, Bailey managed to return to the Ton for season three part two of Bridgerton, which begins streaming Thursday, June 13 and filmed concurrently with Fellow Travelers—which bled directly into Wicked. He remembers practicing Ozdust Ballroom choreography during lunch breaks on Travelers, wearing his buttoned-up G-man glasses and sharp haircut from the waist up—“and then it was Fame from the waist down. I’ve got terrible videos that may or may not surface in about a hundred years time—hopefully once I’ve died, because they’re so embarrassing.” But then again, there’s a poignancy to them: “Tim, if he’d been born 60 years later, may have played Fiyero in the school production of Wicked. And he would have loved the shiny boots.”

Vanity Fair: As Tim on Fellow Travelers, you evolve from a conservative, religious congressional staffer in the ’50s to a radical queer man living in the ’80s. What was it like filming that character arc? I have to imagine it would be tough to do.

Jonathan Bailey: It was an incredible challenge. For Tim, he’s talking about the idea of religion and faith and what that gives you at the beginning. And I think it seems to have equipped Tim to endure a love against all odds. He never gives up on Hawk (Matt Bomer). And Hawk becomes his sort of living religion, and something that he believes in.

I was like, I want to see a gay ingenue who’s a fish out of water—who’s itchy in his skin. It’s not like he’s doe-eyed and just sort of hapless; he’s fighting from the get-go. He does not understand why the world is the way it is. His emotions are the thing he leads with. And he’s all about truth and transparency and honesty. And I think that comes from this Catholic sort of conservative upbringing. So it’s just the most beautiful quest that he has in his life, to find absolution but also acceptance. But he never stops fighting. That’s why, to me, he’s an absolute icon.

Tim is prickly and struggling internally with his sexuality while also dealing externally with important moments in American history, from McCarthyism to the AIDS crisis. As a Brit, how familiar were you with the American history?

Not enough [laughs]. It was not included on the curriculum. But then I’m not sure it really was in America, either. This is why we’re shining a light on areas of history that conveniently haven’t been included. It’s an experience to explore a character throughout that time, but also the history of queer experience—to offer me, as Johnny, catharsis. And to be in a predominantly queer environment to tell that story. I relished it, because there’s so much that I need to understand about the privilege that I have now and the people that came before me. The fact that there’s five out gay actors leading the show is because of all the people that came before. And I’m telling you, people have been loving gay actors for years. They just haven’t been able to say that they’re gay.

We’re getting more and more queer stories and queer representation on screen, but these characters are not always portrayed by actual queer people. I think Fellow Travelers proves that it makes a big difference when you cast queer, out, gay, LGBTQ+ actors in roles that are queer.

This is so specifically exploring the queer experience over 40 years. I think there was a GLAAD report last week that was kind of disheartening, about how there’s been a decrease in queer or LGBTQ+ characters being represented…. Tim and Hawk and all the characters in this are born into a world where they have to fight. And if you’re ever having to monitor or adapt or to survive, if your first instinct is it might not work because of who I am, then that’s the difference between being a gay actor and not being a gay actor. It’s the fight.

The show wouldn’t work without your chemistry with Matt Bomer. How did you find that dynamic? Tim and Hawk’s relationship has a sub-dom dynamic, and at times it switches. There’s a power struggle. It’s complicated and nuanced and always believable.

[laughs] Well, I mean, Matt Bomer is a supreme being, and incredibly lovely and great. He’s got such a wealth of experience. We met on Zoom to do a chemistry read, and then we met in a coffee shop about a week, or even actually less than that—like, six days before we started filming. For about an hour we said, you know, this is such an opportunity. This is what we’re really excited about. It’s a great amount of trust and a free fall. But that’s the point of gay relationships: There is so much nuance, and the dynamic is so balanced because there’s no gender, There’s no—uh, what was it? Women are from Venus, men are from Mars.

The fact that the intimacy is so richly explored is so important to the gay experience. It’s something that I found really incredibly vital as well—to allow people to understand the way that men come together sexually is also directly linked to how the world communicates to them. You know, their relationship with their self-worth and their shame. Also, literally, where are the safe spaces that they can meet. Even in their own homes, in [Fellow Travelers], they had a window of how many hours until the sun came up and Hawk had to get out. Even there it’s unsafe. I loved that the intimacy had its own evolution.

I’m glad that you brought up the intimacy. It’s such an important part and of the show’s DNA, and, frankly, rare to see intimate scenes between two queer men on television. What was it like filming those scenes?

Personally, I just think, What an opportunity. It’s really exciting to be able to know that you’ve got the space to be able to show what you haven’t seen before. I remember Queer as Folk, Blue Is the Warmest Color. There’s been beautiful same-sex intimacy explored. But I think in this instance, it was how the two characters came together, but also directly reflective of what’s going on inside and the distance between what they really felt towards each other—what they felt like they could say, and also what they felt that they had to do in order to survive. That’s where the intimacy is incredibly hot.

It didn’t seem to me to be an overwhelming ask for the intimacy scenes. It felt to me that that was exactly what it should be. If you’re going to tell this incredibly bruising, tender, detailed love story that’s going to explore four moments in history, of course, you should explore the intimate dynamics. And I do think you can show so much about what’s happening with a human in those silent moments of intimacy. That’s why it’s brilliant. You know, I can see where sex scenes don’t further the plot and they don’t explore character development and they’re cynically included. With this, that was never going to happen because it was all on the page. And it’s important.

Source

[damianodavds]

Do You Want a Record Deal?

You have just been promoted at elecktra records but you haven’t signed a band or artist yet. what you discover one summer night is something that will change everyone’s life forever

a re-writing of the dirt netflix film where motley crue was actually discovered by a woman

warnings: course language, fingering, oral - female receiving, slight fem!slash

It was a nice warm summer evening in los angeles and you were checking out the night-life after grabbing a hot dog from a street vendor.

After a few minutes you came across a night club with a large line outside. You stopped to look at the sign and it read: ‘motley crue, tonite’ you even saw the time of the show so you decided to walk to the front of the line to see if you could get in without a ticket.

“Hi, Cheryl Goldberg I just got promoted a elecktra records.” You explained to the buff security guard while struggling to show your business card.

“Back of the line.” the security guard responded while ignoring you.

“No, you don’t understand I am a record executive. I mean, I haven’t signed any bands yet….”

“Back of the line, bitch!”

You were shocked as the security guard slapped your hand and your hot dog fell to the ground. You shrugged your shoulders and walked to the back of the line.

——

It had been an hour since you waited but that didn’t bother you because the night was still young. Finally after a few moments the line started to move and soon enough you were at the front showing your I.D.

Once you entered you saw a big crowd near the front of the stage but you wanted to stay in the back just to observe everything. In five minutes the lights went low and you heard over the intercom:

‘Ladies & Gentlemen, from Los Angeles Mötley Crüe!’

As you heard the introduction, you saw four men walk onto the stage and start the show. You heard the beginning of a drum beat and as the song started playing you were not surprised that the crowd went wild, especially the women in the room.

While enjoying the concert, you wanted to talk to the audience members around you. You started a casual conversation with a guy standing beside you.

“so how long has this band been together?” you asked the twenty-something year old.

“Where have you been, girlfriend? Motley Crue is the talk of the town. Sooner or later this band is going to get a record deal.”

A thought suddenly came to your mind, you can be the one to give this band their record deal.

You couldn’t wait for the show to be over to share your idea with the boys.

——

You knew the bands who performed would go to the rainbow bar and grill after the show for drinks and an early breakfast.

While sitting at a booth a far distance from the band, you were drinking a cold coffee and thinking of what to say to them.

Once you had the courage to make a move, you left your seat and walked to where the boys were sitting.

“Hey, great show out there you really rocked.” you told the group

“Who are you?” the bassist asked with a confused look on his face.

You introduced yourself as you sat beside him, “Cheryl Goldberg, elecktra records I think if we work together we can create something really great...”

As you got comfortable in your seat, you suddenly felt a hand undo the zipper of your jeans. You thought you were imagining it as it was 3am and you had been awake for many hours, working. Once the mysterious hand got your jeans and underwear down you felt a finger rub your clit. You kind of giggled and tried to limit a moan. You noticed the band members smiling at you but also ignored it as you felt like you might be high. When you felt something wet replace the fingers, you jumped out of your seat.

“Hey, hey!” you yelled in shock.

An unnamed woman poked her head from under the table, “what, not your style? I swing both ways.” she told you, you couldn’t believe she was being serious.

Yes, you did kiss a girl at a party once but this was over the top for you.

“No, thank you” you replied.

“Well, if you are interested here is my number”. She gave you a piece of paper and you put it in your pocket not thinking too much of it.

the lead singer laughed when you blushed, “don’t worry, girl we don’t judge.”

When everyone at the table laughed you noticed one member of the group with a serious expression, he looked older than the others like he was too old for the cheeky fun and games. You brushed it off, took back your seat and got down to business.

“As I was saying, I am from elecktra records. So do you want a record deal?”

The boys were speechless and you were worried that you made the mistake of approaching them.

“What do you think?” You heard one of them say.

You smiled and knew you won them over.

“Elecktra records signed us with a five album deal and the party was just beginning.” voice over

end

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Zhiying Zeng’s eyes begin to sparkle and her gestures become more animated as she recounts the day her lifelong Olympic dream came true.

She had to wait longer than most athletes, too: At 58 years old, Zeng will be one of the oldest Olympians at Paris 2024.

But for Zeng, whose Olympic journey began in China in the 1970s and culminated in qualification for Chile’s table tennis team earlier this year, it was worth the wait.

She had even retired from professional table tennis aged 20 – something which allowed her the opportunity to uproot her life in Asia and move across the Pacific Ocean to Chile – and at one stage went almost 20 years without playing.

“It was the biggest dream of my life,” she tells CNN Sport with a thick, unmistakable Chilean lilt.

“Even when I was a little girl and they would ask me what my dream was, I would say: ‘Become an Olympian.’”

Chile has now been Zeng’s home for 35 years and she is as Chilean as they come.

She is known in her adopted country as ‘Tania’ – because Chileans struggle pronouncing the Z in her name – and her favorite dish is pantruca, a kind of dumpling soup.

She also eats beans, a staple of the Chilean diet, every week.

Zeng loves empanadas, too, but doesn’t indulge too much now that she’s an elite athlete again. “Too many calories,” she laughs.

From China to Chile

Zeng was born in Guangzhou in 1966 and picked up a paddle almost as soon as she was physically able.

Her mother was a table tennis coach, which meant the then-government housed the family next to a sports complex, allowing Zeng to train every day and surround herself with professional players.

She was trained by her mother until the age of nine when, Zeng says, she became a typical grumpy child that didn’t want to be coached by a parent.

So her mother enrolled her in a school that employed a table tennis coach and after nearly two years, aged 11, she entered an elite sports academy.

Even in China, by far the world’s most dominant table tennis nation, Zeng’s talents were evident from an early age.

She became a national junior champion and won several regional tournaments before turning professional at the age of 12.

When she was 16, she was called up to the Chinese table tennis team for the first time.

“So many players in China have that dream because it’s so hard to achieve,” she says.

However, in 1986, two years before table tennis made its Olympic debut at the Games in Seoul, the “two color rule” was introduced, meaning the two sides of the paddle now had to be different colors instead of both black.

Zeng explains that the two faces of the paddle produce different types of effects on the ball and she would regularly rotate it in her hand to confuse opponents.

The different colored faces meant opponents could better predict her shots.

“The change of rules affected my game a lot,” she recalls. “That’s when I had a big downturn and left the national team.”

It was a painful moment for Zeng, who says she idolized players who were not much older than her that had already become Asian or world champions, and she was desperate to follow in their footsteps.

But the rule change paved the way for the next chapter in Zeng’s remarkable story.

In 1989, she received an invitation to coach schoolchildren in Arica, a city in northernmost Chile.

It was a job she adored, but it wasn’t until 2003 that she picked up the paddle to play competitive table tennis again.

She wanted to introduce her son, who was 13 at the time, to the sport in order to drag him away from playing too many video games and watching too much television.

In 2004 and 2005, Zeng comfortably won two national tournaments but once again stopped playing when her son was old enough to go to training on his own and travel with the team’s coach.

Third time’s a charm

Zeng only picked up a paddle again when the Covid-19 pandemic struck.

“More than anything, just to exercise because we weren’t doing anything locked down in the house except eating!” she laughs.

“I got the bug and, once we were able to leave, I immediately wanted to play against someone to see what level I was at – and see if I could I still run or not.”

She contacted the federation in Iquique, where she lives today and owns a furniture business, and was soon playing – and winning – regional tournaments against mostly men given there were few female players.

“That gave me a lot of confidence,” she says.

“I had no problems with running, with fatigue or anything. I wanted to know how much more I could do.”

In 2022, the Chilean Table Tennis Federation sent an announcement to the regional associations that it was hosting a tournament to put together a team for the 2023 South American Table Tennis Championships.

Despite her success, Zeng was skeptical about going.

All of the best players in the country would be there and she doubted that she would be able to keep up.

In the end, she only went because a friend managed to convince her.

“‘Go and find out if you can compete or not. If not, at least you’ll be left with no doubts,’” she recalls her friend telling her. “I thought she had a point.”

Zeng qualified for the team, of course, and led Chile to first place in the team tournament, while also coming second in the singles and women’s doubles.

“I forgot what I was afraid of and what I was worried about,” she says.

But it wasn’t until the 2023 Pan American Games in Santiago that her life really changed.

After her first appearance at the tournament, Zeng became a national icon overnight.

After losing the first two sets in her opening match, Zeng rattled off four straight to win 4-2 in front of her new adoring fans.

Chileans gave her the nickname ‘Tia Tania’ – Auntie Tania – and the AP reported that one young fan said he had gone just to watch the “table tennis grandma.”

Even Chilean President Gabriel Boric became a fan and congratulated her on a “tremendous” victory.

Zeng, who will play Lebanon’s Mariana Sahakian in the preliminary rounds of Paris 2024 on Saturday, says being in Santiago as an athlete during the Pan Am Games was a surreal experience.

She spent much of her time with other athletes, going out to dinner and taking photos.

“I lived like that when I was 15,” she says, recalling her time as a professional in China.

“It had been a long time since I experienced something like this. I was like an excited teenager again. I forgot I was 56!”

It proved to be a successful tournament on the table, too, as Zeng won team bronze for Chile alongside Daniela Ortega and Paulina Vega.

Zeng’s sons also noticed that her Instagram following had grown by almost 10,000 in a matter of days and had to teach her how to use social media, so she could keep her hordes of new fans updated.

Finally, 38 years after she gave up on her Olympic dream, Zeng qualified for Paris 2024 at a pre-Olympic qualifying tournament in Lima, Peru, in May this year.

Zeng says she didn’t sleep at all the night before the deciding game as she played out every imaginable scenario in her head.

On match point, when she went to collect the ball, her mind again began to run wild.

“Calm, calm,” Zeng, who says mental fortitude is her biggest asset in table tennis, repeated to herself. “You’ve got one more point.”

After winning match point, the emotion of everything she had experienced in the sport came flooding out.

Her father, who is 92 and regularly visits her in Chile, and her brother stayed up until 5 a.m. in China to watch the match, while her husband and friends were in Lima to celebrate the moment with her.

“My dad was able to see his daughter qualify for the Olympics,” she says, visibly emotional.

“He used to take me to training and to matches when I was a girl and now at 57, I made it. I made it.”

[ae-azile]

Working Title: The Non-Newtonian Newborn (Or How Kim Theerapanyakul Became a Virgin Father and Got the Guy of his Dreams)

Summary:

Kim’s fans can be a little…intense. Ever since Why Don't You Stay was released, Kim's fame has continued to rise, but so have the inappropriate comments and flirtations, number of stalkers, and the number of strange gifts. And none of those things matter when Chay has yet to say more than a few words to him. He doesn't want any of the excess attention, propositions for sex, or gifts unless it comes from Chay.

He's so pathetic. He doesn't know why people leave him gifts in front of his apartment building. But none of those compare to the confusion he feels when he finds a newborn baby outside his front door. It's the strangest “gift” he has ever received and it's one he has to contact the police over.

Again.

And again.

And again.

When the baby appears at the foot of his bed out of thin air, Kim figures he may need help that no cop can offer. But until he can find the kind of help he needs to get this baby out of his life, he is moving back to the compound for the first time since he was seventeen. He hates the thought of it, but he's not staying in his apartment with a cursed baby. At least Khun and Kinn are at the compound, as well as guards who can tend to this thing so Kim doesn't have to.

As for Chay’s presence? It's a big building. If Chay truly doesn't want to see him, Kim will stay out of his way, deal with this problem, and Chay will be none the wiser.

Pairings: KimChay, side Armkhun, side KinnPorsche, side VegasPete+Macau

Rating: M

Warnings: forced parenthood, stalking

Key Tags: Magical/Cursed babies, crack treated seriously, KimChay reconciliation, KimChay as co-parents, friends to crushes to enemies to co-parents to lovers.

Fic Preview Below Cut:

Kim can fully admit he once loved the attention he received from his music career, at least for the most part. The obvious lust some fans had for him could be a source of discomfort. Regardless of the charisma and occasional flirtatious disposition he would exude on stage, that wasn't really Kim. That was WIK.

After his fall out with Chay, it's harder to be WIK, which is a shame. His catapulting fame expects him to be WIK more than ever. However, “Kim” and “WIK” are no longer two sides of the same coin, not like Kim thought they once were. Kim and WIK are two very different people. Every day, it's gets harder and harder to be WIK, especially when both Kim and WIK remember what Kim had done.

He had been so fucking stupid. Why couldn't have he just asked Chay to talk privately when Chay confronted him outside the compound? Expressed why he did what he did? Done anything but admit his wrongs in the worst possible way, leave Chay a crying mess in front of the compound, and fuck up his own heart in the scheme of things? Despite Chay meeting him as WIK, Kim had felt like he could be himself around Chay - or at least the version of himself that Kim strived to be. Chay brought out a side that Kim could actually tolerate, one that wasn't forced. It was a side that felt affection, kindness, and hope, and it had been so easy to be and feel that way when he wasn’t reminded of why he was tutoring Chay in the first place.

He ruined everything. He may be more successful than ever, but he ruined everything.

“Khun K…Wik,” Clyde says, his voice coming out in a grunt as he holds a woman in a hold from behind, “You have another unwanted vis-”

“P’WIK!!!!!!!!"

Kim lets out a sigh and walks over to the woman, bending down slightly to make eye contact with her.

He hates eye contact.

“Thank you for your continued support,” Kim tells her as she struggles in Clyde’s arms, “But this is my home and I need to maintain boundaries for my continued safety-”

“I LOVE YOU, P’WIK!” the woman screeches in his face, trying to drop herself down to the floor. When she succeeds to an extent, she begins kicking at his ankles. Does she expect sudden love and devotion from him if she kicks his ankles?

“I am giving you a chance to go home without further action taken,” Kim tells her calmly, taking one step back, “Leave. Now.”

The woman’s breath is heaving as her kicking legs gradually come to a halt. She looks up at him with tear filled, adoring eyes and lets out a cry.

“I will show you we are soulmates, P’Wik. I swear I will.”

“Again, thank you for your continued support. Go home.”

The woman slowly gets to her feet and promptly launches herself at him. Kim really does not want to fight her. That isn't what he wants as he stands stiffly in her hold. But when she yanks at his hair and gets several stray fingers caught in between her fingers, Kim gives Clyde a nod and she is promptly tased.

“It's the third time she had come by this week,” Clyde says as she lies there in a daze, “She came in telling me you were meant to be together and that you were thinking of proposing soon.”

“What is her name again?” Kim asks, glancing down at her.

“Hom Thepnakorn. I suggest if you don't want to contact your father and have her taken care of the way he would insist on, then you should get a restraining order.”

One is brutal, but swift and can be swept under the rug. The other is a process that will likely attract some level of media attention.

But when Kim looks down at her, it's clear this woman is sick. Not evil, not a murderer. Sick and in need of help.

“Call the police, mention my father’s name if needed,” Kim says to Clyde, “Tell them that a woman who is in need of psychiatric support is at our address. Any other incidents today?”

Clyde lets out a sigh, puts on some gloves, and starts bringing up things from behind the desk, “You have been left three bouquets of flowers, two bras, four pairs of underwear, a jockstrap, a pizza in the shape of a heart, and a very large egg.”

Kim jerks his head back at the sight as Clyde opens the box, “A very large egg?”

Clyde nods Hom, who is still on the floor, “She wanted to give it to you. It doesn't seem to be a bomb.”

Kim looks down at the egg, then picks it up out of the case.

“Khun Wik, we don't know what substances could be on it.”

“Why would you give me an egg?” Kim says, looking down at it. It's green. It's also glowing.

“Will this blow me up?”

Hom blinks, then shakes her head, “Never, P’Wik. You are my soulmate. I would never hurt you or anyone you care about.”

“Hm,” Kim acknowledges, then promptly lets the egg fall to the ground. Clyde lets out shout and takes cover, all while Kim looks down in fascination at the swirling orange, green, purple, and white substance. It swirls around Kim’s feet, never mixing in color, yet is rapidly swirling around him.

“What is this?” Kim asks more directly, entranced and confused by the sight.

He had dropped it in hopes of breaking the woman’s heart. When he broke Chay’s heart, Chay pretty much blocked Kim out of his life. It's Kim's biggest regret and the rare dinners Kim has to go to that Chay also attends are a source of intense pain, but also the one thing Kim looks forwards to. It's pathetic. Kim had thought this woman might banish him out of her life for doing the same. At least it would be wanted.

But that doesn't seem to be the case. Instead of screaming or crying with heartbreak and disappointment, the woman squeals with delight, kicking her feet against the floor as if she is the happiest woman on earth. She crawls over just far enough to release the stray hairs from her fingertips, letting them fall into the swirling circle. Kim can't help but be disturbed by the happy and satisfied glint in her eye, all while Clyde takes on the task of calling the police for the assistance of removing a mentally ill woman. As they wait, the woman just stays on the ground while she watches the swirling liquid with fascination. When Kim tries to step out of the circle that has formed around him, it follows and forms a circle around him once more.

“It's pink!” She shouts, pointing at the circle, “That's exactly what I wanted!”

Kim glances down at the liquid in absolute confusion. If anything, those colors should have mixed into a murky brown or gray. But sure enough, the circle around him is light yet vibrant pastel pink. It only stops and disappears through the floor seconds before the cops arrive.

“You’ll love me soon, P’Wik,” the woman says, smiling brightly as two cops pick her up off the floor, handcuff her, and escort her through the door, “I promise. We will be tied together forever. We’re soulmates, I know it-”

“Come on, ma’am,” one of the cops say, “To the car. You are lucky this man isn't taking further action against you-”

“I LOVE YOU, P’WIK!!!”

Kim makes sure he says nothing in return, focusing on giving his statement on what happened before addressing Clyde directly.

“I'm sorry for the added stress that my…admirers have caused you recently-”

“Khun Kim, with all do respect, she and several others who have stopped by the building are stalkers.”

Kim clears his throat, “I feel like that's a bit harsh-”

“If I may speak out of turn again, it really isn't.”

That's probably fair. On top of that, Clyde is mostly dealing with these visitors independently. Prior to the release of his new album, Kim saw no need to have excess security for the building. Logically, he knows he should have it, considering his job, as well as when he is reminded of whose son he is. But having guards on every corner reminds him of a childhood he didn't want. He sometimes fantasizes of a childhood where his mother lived past Kim's ninth birthday, one where Kinn could pursue music like Kim has, and one where Khun could have stayed popular, charismatic, academically gifted, and safe.

Pa never makes the cut for these fantasies, and they never take place at the compound. The family home Kim often dreams up strangely looks like the one Chay grew up in.

“I will hire a few more guards,” Kim says quietly. He hates the idea of it, but Clyde has been his doorman for a long time, and an employee of his family’s even longer. He was Ma’s guard, so when Kim was required to have at least one guard as a staff in this building, he chose him. He doesn't want him to leave, nor does he want him to get hurt.

“I apologize for the chaos and stress people have brought you,” Kim continues, “I know you didn't sign up for this when you first started here-”

“I signed up to protect you, Khun Kim, which is why I am concerned about the influx of these behaviors coming from various people,” Clyde says, then points at the floor, “We don't even know what that liquid was! I could be a health hazard! It swirled around you, changed colors, then got absorbed by the floorboards! If I thought I was seeing things!”

“It was probably just some…non-newtonian fluid.”

“Lava is a non-newtonian fluid, so is blood. Both can be harmful.”

“And some aren't,” Kim says, “Like ketchup.”

“That was NOT ketchup-”

“I’ve had a long day,” Kim says, walking towards the elevator, “I’ll look into more guards. Make sure the doors are locked tonight before your shift is over. Unless the are a tenant, make sure Red knows not to let anyone in.”

Clyde breathes out, “...Yes, Khun Kim. But if I may make one suggestion.”

Since the elevator hasn't arrived yet, Kim nods his head.

“Go on.”

“Stay at the compound for a while. It's safer there, and you will have more people who can come to your aid if something like this would happen again. Your address has clearly been leaked, and it has been attracting people you frankly don't want to attract. Even if they figure out you are staying with your family, it will be so much safer and you will likely avoid running into any of these stalkers at all-”

“No.”

“Khun Kim-”

“I said no,” Kim says, his voice more stern, “This will pass, Clyde. No one has come here with weapons. The most this woman did was lightly kick at my ankles and pull a few strands of my hair. That's it. I will get you more support staff, and I will even let you take some time off if that's what you need. But I am not moving back there. Ever.”

He could swear that Clyde is grumbling under his breath and rolling his eyes, but Kim isn’t going to call him out on it. He has a right to be frustrated. Kim understands the current situation is annoying.

But it still won't make Kim budge. He doesn't want to be around Pa, and Chay doesn't want to be around him. So he sticks to his decision, gets inside the elevator when it dings, goes to the top floor, and plans for a relaxing night.

It's easier said than done. It's hard to relax during any downtime he has. Silence brings on thinking, and thinking brings on obsessing over Chay. It has been about nine months since everything happened with Tawan. Nine months since Chay figured out who Kim really was.

It fucking hurts. Nine months later, and it still fucking hurts.

When the memories and regrets get to him this much, he has a habit of skipping dinner. He knows it isn't good for him, and he will sometimes find ways to climb his way out of this habit by cooking for himself. But last time he did that, he he squirted a smiley face on his plate with Sriracha sauce and it was a downward emotional spiral from there.

He chooses not to eat tonight, although maybe he should have. By the time he is ready for bed and brushing his teeth, a bout of sudden nausea hits him so intensely that it has him diving in front of the toilet to heave up the little he ate for lunch. It's painful, confusing, and frustrating. He never throws up.

He wonders if he is getting sick. Maybe it's stress from the stalker. Maybe the swirling, non-newtonian fluid omitted some sort of poisonous gas and now he's suffering the consequences.

He's probably overthinking it. Soon enough, he feels better. Slightly sore, but better. He's fine.

And even if he's not, so be it.

However, he can't help but worry slightly when he wakes up just as the sun is rising, feeling queasy again. He tries to push off the nausea for as long as he can until it becomes unbearable and he find himself throwing up in the toilet once more, spitting up a mixture of water and yellow bile.

He ends up not going into the studio. He usually would, but he doesn't have any pressing matters to attend to or any rehearsals scheduled. In fact, his people have been hinting to take advantage of the downtime. They think he has been stressed, and they say that his stress in particular is contagious.

So Kim will stay home today. He wouldn't want his employees and colleagues to catch this bug, or whatever stressful aura he has been giving off.

But when he hears something on the other side of the door, he wonders if he should have gone after all. It sounds like a cat. Maybe it belongs to one of his neighbors. That's the last thing Kim needs to do right now, call around and ask his neighbors who is missing a cat.

Regardless, he gets up and checks anyway. He likes cats, and one feeling stressed out by accidentally finding itself on the top floor isn't something Kim wants until he opens the door, takes in what it actually is, and wishes it were a cat instead.

“Why?” is all Kim asks, staring down at the baby, who is loosely swaddled in a pastel pink blanket, “Seriously. Who are you and why are you here?”

The baby gurgles happily and brings their arms out of the blanket, lifting them upwards. If Kim didn't know any better, he would assume the baby wants to be picked up. But this baby doesn't know him and Kim doesn't know this baby.

“No,” Kim says, then immediately shuts the door, leaving the baby in the hall. He can only keep up with that for about ten seconds before opening the door again, stepping out into the hallway, and begrudgingly lowering himself to the ground. As he looks at the baby, he feels extreme reluctance before reaching over to feel around their blanket.

“Who left you here?” Kim mutters to himself, looking for some kind of clue, “Do you have a tag or anything?

The baby just gurgles happily and lifts their arms again. Kim practically jumps out of his skin when the baby grabs a hold of his pointer finger and just…keeps holding it.

“I need that back,” Kim says stiffly, but lets them hold his finger until they let go on their own accord. Once they do, he calls down to the front desk.

“Have we had any visitors yet today?” Kim asks as soon as Clyde answers the phone.

“No, Khun Kim. It has been quiet so far.”

“I need you to go through the security footage and check,” Kim says, giving the baby a wary glance, “Someone left something outside my door.”

“What?”

“Look at the live feed and see for yourself.”

Kim waits silently as Clyde clicks whatever he needs to click to view Kim’s hallway camera feed. As soon as he does, Clyde clears his throat.

“Is that a baby, Khun Kim?”

“Yes.”

“A living and breathing baby.”

Kim shifts over to peer at the baby’s face, “Seems to be.”

“...I see. I will rewind the footage, see when they were left by your door, and then call the authorities. If you would like to bring them down, they can just pick the baby up out front.”

Kim really doesn't want to pick this baby up. But he would rather not invite people he doesn't know up to his floor, so he supposes he will suck it up and do it.

“You didn't take any breaks that would have left the front desk unoccupied?” Kim asks, holding the cellphone in the crook of his neck as he hesitantly and carefully lifts the baby into his arms.

“Of course not. Not with what happened yesterday.”

“What about our tenants? Are there any new parents?”

“No, Khun Kim. I am just as confused by this as you are. But I will make sure the child is handed over to the proper channels swiftly.”

“Good,” Kim mutters, staring down at the baby as he hangs up the phone. When he steps into the elevator, he sees the hint of a white piece of paper, nestled between the pink fabric and the baby’s stomach. Kim reaches in to grab it, then unfolds it with one hand.

Meet our beautiful love child.

You are my soulmate, P’Wik.

This proves it.

May our baby girl tie us together forever.

Love, Hom.

Only a part of Kim takes in the fact the letter is written in blood.

…This morning is stupid. All he wanted was a sick day.

[starry-nights-garden]

WayV Reaction ✧ When they have a crush on a shy/socially anxious person

✧ WayV all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: fluff, reaction ✧ warnings: mentions of social anxiety 

Kun:

he’s going to observe before approaching you in any case

so when he figures that you must be on the shy side, the natural leader instinct immediately kicks in

wants nothing more than to take care of you and to make you feel comfortable with him at all cost

he’ll talk to you naturally and match his energy level with yours

might actually startle you by asking you out too early, which he will agonize over in silence for the next 24 hours, but he’ll recover and simply come to the conclusion that he’ll need to give you a bit more time and space

will try to be friendly with you for now, and keeps a distance so as not to seem pushy

will also surprise you with nice little gestures that will eventually make you fall for him

once he’s starting to get a hunch that you’re developing feelings for him, he’ll plan how to ask you out again, and he’ll be a lot more careful about it this time

Ten:

I think this one’s a bit of a hit or miss

for him to notice you in the first place, you need to pique his interest in some kind of way, and he strikes me as someone who prefers people who can be a bit bold at times

but as soon as he’s got his eye on you, he’ll be set on getting you to talk to him more so he can figure out whether you like him back or not

will give you subtle pushes to try to lure you out of your shell by throwing you topics he thinks you’d be interested in as bait

will use literally all of his brainpower to keep the conversation going once he succeeds in making you talk

whether or not you two will work out depends heavily on how many common interests you have

but if you share a few or those, you’ll slowly be able to warm up to him and to come to know each other better

and chances are that once you can talk comfortably, it won’t take long for you guys to start dating

Winwin:

he’s on the shy side too, so he’ll be able to understand your struggles very well

he’ll also be quick to figure out that you’re just shy and not actually disinterested in him entirely

that realization will actually help him too, and suddenly he’ll gain a lot of confidence around you

he’ll feel like he can comfortably take the lead and initiate conversations with you, and since he understands how you feel he can also easily reassure you whenever you seem uneasy

he’s already a very gentle person, but he’ll be even sweeter to you

wants to always be there for you as a shoulder to lean on and as someone you can be your true self around

over time you become comfortable friends naturally

he’ll make sure you’re both ready before confessing his feelings to you and trying to take your relationship to the next stage

Xiaojun:

he’s both a bit shy and outgoing, so this one will be interesting

he’ll need some time himself until he can muster the courage to talk to you in the first place

his bright but timid personality will most likely make you become comfortable around him in no time naturally

you can just be shy by yourselves, somewhere away from other people, and through that learn to open up to each other at your own pace

after getting to know each other better this will definitely evolve into a relationship where you take each other by the hand and help each other be more confident (though he will probably do that for you a bit more often than vice versa)

however, once he begins to feel the need to confess to you, he will become awkward again and agonize over how to best do it without scaring you off

he’ll probably need a bit of time until he can tell you how he feels about you

or even better - you give him a little push and take the lead this time around

Hendery:

he just will not stop talking

it’s pretty clear to him from the start that you must struggle with social anxiety, so his strategy is to talk your ears off until you stop feeling shy…

he will embarrass himself in the process and make things awkward more than once, but he’s quick to laugh it off and continue talking about something else - plus, it’s all part of the plan anyway

will eventually get you to laugh at his jokes and the awkward silence he sometimes causes and will make you feel like there really isn’t anything to worry about when talking to him at all

he’s just gonna make you feel very comfortable, and as soon as you have the courage to open up, he will give you space to talk and just listen

once he feels the right time has come, he will tell you about his feelings for you comfortably, because he already knows you feel the same about him too

Yangyang:

oh no

he’s so awkward at first because he can’t tell if you’re shy or if you just really can’t stand him

becomes so unsure and actually starts to feel stupid for having a crush on you until he gets a little push (maybe from a mutual friend?), making him realize you actually like him back but you’re just anxious in social situations

acts completely different around you from now on and tries to always make sure to include you in group conversations, asking questions directed at you, etc.

he’s still a bit clumsy but he means well and is always thinking about how to improve the way he approaches you

will eventually figure out what he needs to do for you to be able to comfortably talk to him

as soon as you find a dynamic that fits the both of you, you will become closer naturally, being able to talk about pretty much everything with each other

and from there on it’s only a matter of time until you will become a couple equally naturally

[butmakeitgayblog]

Loving all the #awtr synopses! Thank you for indulging us 🥰 Would you be able to share one of the 365 letters that Lexa wrote to Clarke in the care package? Maybe one of those letters that Clarke return to over and over again?

You are a glutton for punishment

I like you 😈

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Dearest,

Each letter I start feels so awkward in the beginning. As though the blank page itself were mocking me. All bumbling sentences and half-formed thoughts vying for my attention, because how does one get to the point when there's so many things between us left to say? A lifetime worth of words live on the point of this pen, all yearning and jumbled in their haste to be written first. Each one wanting nothing more than to jump right into the thick of it; into the thick of being part of a lifetime with you.

And yet here I sit, struggling with exactly where to start.

I suppose I could begin with the most mundane part of this idea: the actual point of this letter. Forcing myself to tackle the 'why' of the whole reason you picked this one in particular sounds like the smart move here... Assuming, of course, you didn't tear through them all the first second you got... *wifely sigh* If that is the case, don't feel too bad. Your lack of patience is, bafflingly, one of the many things I love so fiercely about you.

You're 30 today.

30!

My wife is 30. I love hearing how that sounds. The thought alone makes my heart skip a beat. (In a decidedly joyous way, I assure you, as it so often does whenever you wander yourself across my mind.) You're 30 now. An honest God adult in every measure, and truthfully that blows my mind because I still vividly remember seeing you for the first time when we were only children. It was drizzling and you'd crashed into me on the playground while running, and I—

Well, you've heard this story enough times before, but my point remains.

You're sleeping peacefully as I write this. Safe and warm in my bed. Tucked to me so tight I can barely hold the pen well enough to get these words out, and yet all I can envision when I look over and see the youth of your face is who you will be when this letter reaches you.

Know, in every version of 'you' my brain tirelessly cooks up, you are as beautiful then as you are right now. If not more so.

I envision that same smile, with those lips that sweeten my dreams, nestled in the crest of newly discovered laugh lines. I see the kindness of your eyes in every universe, my love. The way those same stubborn and fierce blues that take my breath away hold a depth of wisdom far beyond your (30!!) years. You told me once how you hated your beauty mark as a kid, but my goodness, the things I do to wrap my lips around it. Believe it or not, I secretly have impeccable aim. Stop laughing, I do. It's just too tempting. I can't even begin to resist. And your chin! Your wonderul chin, that was surely made to hold my thumb so perfectly each time I kiss you. I imagine it's somewhat sharper now. More refined. More dignified.

Tell me, love. Does it hold another's thumb now?

It should. It deserves to be cherished.

I find myself so often in these quiet moments before sleep thinking of who you are - who you will be - at these stages of your life. And while I know in my heart I'll be right there with you when these times come, smiling and cheering you on along the way, for now, I am left woefully guessing.

I write this all to say: I hope you are happy. I hope you have a life filled with more love than you know what to do with. I hope it makes you feel even a tenth as timeless as your love made me feel. Being loved by you is a miraculous thing in that way.

It's funny, as I've written these letters, I already feel as though I've lived an entire lifetime with you. And even then, it's still not enough. In the earlier ones I worried so much, as I'm sure you remember (again, that's assuming you actually followed the directions for a change and didn't binge them all at once), but I find myself writing this one in particular entirely calm. Make no mistake, I still feel the urge to dote on you. To fuss at you as I do with questions of 'have you drank enough today? Eaten enough? Take a nap with me, dear. You never seem to get enough sleep.' I will always worry about these things no matter where we are in the universe. But understand, love, it's only because I wish to take care of you.

Not that you need it. You've never needed me to take care of you, but I'm so very grateful you let me try all the same.

You're gonna do great things, Griffin. I already know it, but for posterity's sake, I'll write it just to have one final 'told ya so' moment with you. I hope your life is so damn big now that you look back on the walls of this room that held our love in its sanctuary, and it impresses you how we managed to fit the both of us in here along with it. I hope with each dream you accomplish, it's replaced only by what great thing comes next for you. Because while the world is cold and terrifying and beats us down in so many ways, I know you, my darling girl. I know you're the one who can always best it.

I love you, Clarke. I've loved you since before I knew I could have you, and I'm going to love you long after I'm gone. I hope I made you know that in the time we had together, well enough to last this lifetime and into the next. I'll be here, love. Patiently waiting for you to crash into me again.

Wherever you are in this moment, know that I am so proud of the woman you've become. I want you to spend every last second of today celebrating the wonderful, stubborn, charming, passionate, fearless, tender person you are.

Don't ever let that fire inside of you die. I couldn't bear it. The world needs more people like you.

Lord knows I sure did.

Thank you for teaching me what selfless love is. Loving you made me a better person. And I'd like to think I played at least a little part in helping you become who you are too. So celebrate today. And every single day after. I mean it. You deserve it.

Until we meet again,

- Lexa

P.s. Have a whiskey sour for me 🖤

[nathantheauthor]

I know I said the next major information post was Ripper Inc concept designs, but, I'd like to introduce the new and improved....

Sally Williams!

Part of the reason I'm talking about her is because I just recently changed my rewrite for her, cuz I have an idea I like much more than what I had. I'm just going to kind of say it out right, apart from appearance and initial design, she shares very little in common with the original Sally. And it's very much because of the general theme of the character rewrite.

Growing up and the stages of grief.

The reason why I'm going for this spin is because the original and it's subject matter are very fetishized, I don't think I need to explain what the context of "Play With Me" was, and why I wouldn't want to touch that. The uncomfortable SA and pedophilic nature of the original is something I believe needs to be firmly buried and erased, character deserved better than her Creator gave her. Sally needs a full overhaul. This is something I've been thinking about and struggling with the past couple days, as originally the story would have involved The Rake handling uncle Johnny, but I've just removed Uncle Johnny... I've cooked a very different horror, a very different nightmare for Sally. This is the alternative version I propose, in cliff notes.

Sally's death stems from neglection, a lack of supervision, and from the innocence of childhood. The death itself occurred when Sally and her friends were playing doctor, and they had broken into Aunt Regina's medicine cabinet. Sally's death is into murder, it isn't a grand display, really kids playing with things they shouldn't... An overdose. They didn't understand what was happening to her, they were all still under two digits for the most part. Sally was only seven. In fact the blood dripping from her head is stemmed from her friends attempting to get her down the stairs and dropping her, nobody at the time was sure what killed her, the head injury or the drugs. Something Sally never got an answer to.

She couldn't understand the following days, why Aunt Regina was hauled away by the police, why no matter how much she screamed and cried nobody would answer, why... No matter how much she rubbed at it, the blood wouldn't stop seeping from her forehead. She came to learn a few things over the course of the days, she could fly now, lift objects without touching them, even walk through walls. She was... A superhero! But why could nobody see her? How can she be a hero if the people she's saving don't know she's there?

More and more time passed and as it turns out, she wasn't exactly as unheard as she thought, the neighbors mentioned screaming and crying in the old Williams house, of the strangest moved items each day. They were beginning to believe the place was haunted. Hell, leaving sometimes caught glances of her moving down the halls, walking through walls to make the traveling easier.

To add on to this, Sally is getting a bit more daring, trying to take steps outside and finding another problem with the whole idea of "superhero". She can't leave the house, in fact, she feels the strongest in her room.

Years went by, and with it Sally gets older- her soul is aging. She was eleven now, disillusioned with her situation and feeling hollow, there have been people attempting to move in, but she'd always accidentally steer them away. "we didn't know the place was haunted!" They'd always say, and once again leave her to her isolation. The wound was healing, she supposed that was an upside, but she'd grown a sense of comfort from the blood. A consistent companion in her loneliness.

Of course, all things change, nobody stays lonely forever, and eventually the real estate company hired a specialist, no, it wasn't a Ripper, merely a friend. Today everything properly changed was when the paranormal investigator known as Valkyrie Nevermore arrived, and with her the electromagnetic investigator brought answers, something Sally hadn't gotten since before the incident.

Sally's soul hasn't processed her own death, it's aging her like it perceive the aging of a physical body, she was what Valkyrie referred to as a "Redead" (yes, that's Zelda ref), that even resolving her unfinished business or accepting reality wasn't going to pass her on. Ultimately the encounter ended with Valkyrie freeing her from her haunting location, and delivering her to the one person she trusts with a spectral being.

Sally has since found herself amongst Ripper Inc, with Jack Revver having taken her in as his own child.

Well.

So, yeah, those are the cliff notes of the story I want to write with Sally, rewriting and recontextualizing her as even more of a tragedy, because I don't believe she should ever be an antagonist, that she should ever be evil. Sally's at her core a scared and frightened child, and that's something I wish people writing her with a horror in mind would remember. You can use her for horror, but make the events from her perspective, make SALLY the protagonist. There is plenty of opportunity there for great psychological horror about the loss of innocence and isolation. Dive into the horrific depression and loneliness of being a ghost.

Why have Sally age? The reason for this is actually quite simple, it's a physical representation of the story themes, as one of the major ones is the fact that despite her death there was still a lot of growing up she needs to do, that the isolation serves to break her down slowly as if growing older. Her soul thinks she's alive, as this is also a manifestation of her denial, her inability to process and come to terms with the accident that killed her.

Who is Valkyrie Nevermore? Well, she's a character I've had for a couple years, with the concept being a paranormal investigator that specifically goes in to help souls find peace, or exercise malevolent spirits using a combo of her electromagnetism and an understanding of the occult. There's MUCH more to say about her, but I'll save that for the group info drop for ZALGOIDS.

This would normally be the part where I get into her relationships and all that, but I want to work a bit more on those before I share them. So for now, this is the proposed rewrite I have for my version of Sally.

[doublejango]

The Full Moon - "novelization" of THAT scene, contains full spoilers.

It is okay to reblog, but please do not repost. The dialog lines are all taken directly from the show, I didn't write them! Like I said in the title, this is just a 'novelization' type thing of the scene--all of the staging, beats, etc, it's all Vivziepop & Crew! This is just my take on the episode, of course, please don't be angry if it doesn't jive with how you interpreted it! Also, this is largely from Blitz's point of view, other than at the very beginning, but please don't take that to mean I am at all anti-Stolas. I adore him, adore him, and am not blaming him. This episode was wonderful and felt like such a realistic way for things to go.

-

Stolas could do this. Somehow, somehow he could do this, he could get through the day. He wouldn't think about how many hours overdue he was for his antidepressants, which were gone. He wouldn't let himself think about what would happen if this went poorly--but of course, that was all he was thinking about. What if this went poorly? He sat on the edge of his bed, trying to be calm, trying not to fidget, and failed at both. Blitz would be here any minute; soon, their lives together would begin, or they would end.

Nothing could remain the way it was.

His heart was racing and his hands were cold. This was the right thing to do, he knew it was, so why did it feel wrong somehow? Why did he feel like he was standing on the edge of some terrible precipice? Why did it feel like he going to do something cruel? This was kindness. This was right. This was the only way he could even ever begin to convince his darling Blitz of how he felt. Love could hardly flourish under chains.

But then again, maybe Blitz wouldn't even come tonight. Maybe it would be one more night of disappointment and loneliness--and maybe part of him was hoping for that. Stolas sighed and hung his head, disappointed in himself for thinking it, yet unable to deny it: if Blitz didn't come, he wouldn't have to do this. Everything could stay as it was for another month, and they could live just that much longer in this beautiful, terrible lie.

As he thought it, a large bag was hefted over the balcony railing, as if Blitz had gathered up everything he'd stolen that wonderful day in their childhood.

Stolas's stomach felt like it was full of lead.

This was happening.

A moment later, Blitz appeared, climbing up over the balustrade. "Hidey-ha-hoo-ha, Stolas," he called out cheerfully. He sounded so playful, so happy, could it be so wrong to just--let this happen? Just once more?

The beautiful, darling, dangerous little imp dragged the heavy bag into the room, unaware that he held far more than the cloth in his hands. Stolas's heart was there somewhere--it had been from the beginning.

"Guess what I got for us? I got lots of fun shit for us to--" Blitz struggled with the bag--"play with tonight!"

Look at him. He was smiling. He was happy. He was even dressed differently than usual, so nicely. Stolas should smile too. He should get up, play along, say something, invite him closer, anything, but he couldn't. For a moment, he couldn't speak, couldn't move. His heart was too heavy. He wanted this, wanted the pleasure of another night with his beloved in his arms--

But he couldn't continue treating Blitz so cruelly.

Blitz deserved better than that. He always had. It didn't matter that Stolas had never meant to be cruel, he told himself, for he knew that he hadn't; all that mattered was that now that he understood the cruelty, he needed to do something about it. He had to protect his lover, even from himself, else Blitz's consent could never mean a thing, and that was a line that horrified Stolas to understand how he had tripped and danced across it.

-

"Like this extra large candle that smells like..." Blitz plastered his face against the glass and breathed it in, "horny!" Getting the damn candle had been more of an ordeal than it should have, but it was worth it. There was something about the smell, and while he often bought toys that he thought Stolas might like, the candle felt a little different to him--special, maybe. He couldn't just say that, that would be weird, but since it was sex-themed, it was safe, right? Stolas couldn't reject him for this, couldn't be upset about it. They were here for sex, it was going to be amazing, and if he could do anything to make his damn bird smile, he would.

"I got..." He dove back into the bag. Christ on a stick, he'd picked up way too much shit, hadn't he? Picking up a small plug, he made a face. When did I even buy this? "I got... whatever this little guy is, but..." No. No. Don't show doubt. Just keep this fun. Keep it light. He grinned and looked back at Stolas. "But I'm sure there's some place in your cloaca where you can stick it." He tossed the little plug aside, aware that Stolas really hadn't reacted to, well, anything, and pulled out the special toy Fizzie had pulled out for him. Thank fuck he had this, because Stolas was being oddly quiet, and the heat felt like it was on. If he couldn't please him...

Fuck worrying and fuck thinking. They were going to have a great fucking time. Everything was going to be fine.

"And look at this bad boy!" Flipping it up into the air with a flourish, he activated the toy, letting the massive cock take shape, tentacles whipping wildly. The rich red light behind him cast dark shadows on the floor, towards Stolas's feet.

Stolas still didn't seem to be reacting.

He was just... staring?

Was this not enough? Fuck. Stolas was a Goetia. Incredibly powerful, incredibly resilient. Almost nothing could hurt him--other than the shit Striker used on him, fuck that angelic bullshit--and so finding toys to at least give Stolas the pretense of danger was hard sometimes. Hard, but worth it. He usually seemed to like the more intense things--those bear traps felt more like a soft bite, Stolas had once confessed to him--so this should do it, should be close to edgeplay for Stolas, but...

What...?

What was going on?

Blitz looked at Stolas, trying not to falter.

"Do you...?" Stolas coughed quietly, clearing his throat, and seemed to intentionally soften his tone, but his next words still came out brisk. Businesslike. "Do you have my book, Blitz?"

Blitz's stomach dropped.

Something really was wrong.

He shut the giant vibrator down and made himself smile. "Yeah, uh, yeah. It's... right here." Blitz fetched the heavy tome out of the bag. The beautiful blue book seemed to get heavier every time he held it. Right now, it felt like it weighed far, far too much. "I, I always bring it." This would be fine. He walked closer to Stolas. "Why do you...?"

"I need it back." Stolas held out his hand and Blitz slowly started to give him the book, but then the beautiful owl said one more word: "Permanently."

Oh no.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Blitz whipped the book back out of reach. "Perman--hold, hold on Stolas." Clutching it to his chest, he tried, he tried not to sound like he was freaking out, and he tried to put that smile on. Fake it til you make it, right? That shit could count in this kind of situation too, sure it could. Think. Think, asshole. He's obviously mad, so what is he mad about? Figure this shit out. Figure this shit out and fix it, but keep it light. Don't fuck this up. Don't fuck this up. "Now, hold on. Is this because I've taken up skipping a few rounds with you in bed because I'm busy? That ain't fair." He held up a hand, closed his eyes. Don't panic. Smile. Eye contact. Move towards him. Do it. "I, I, I, I can still hold up my end of the bargain. Right? Let, let me show you a good time tonight." Stolas's hand was still outstretched, so Blitz reached for it. "You know I can."

But Stolas didn't let him touch him. He pulled his hand away.

What was happening?

Blitz's heart was beating faster now. The room was starting to feel different. Unfamiliar.

"Please," Stolas said quickly, tightly, closing his hand as if Blitz might have burned it if they'd touched, "don't say it like that, Blitz..." He wrapped his arms around himself.

Like what? How else should I say it? Isn't that what he wants? What am I doing wrong?

"Come on, bitch." Blitz rested his hand instead on a warm knee. Stolas looked different, felt different, felt a million miles away, but his body still felt the same under Blitz's hand, and that had to count for something. "You know I don't disappoint." Fuck, look at that precious blush on Stolas's face. Blitz tried to make his words into a purr, a promise, to make it everything Stolas might enjoy--but Stolas was...

Recoiling?

"No!" Stolas got up quickly. "No, no, no. There's no need. I've made up my mind."

Blitz stared as Stolas turned and walked away from him, leaving him.

He's leaving.

Blitz had fucked up.

He wasn't--he wasn't good enough. Loona was right. Stolas was bored with him. Or disappointed, or something. Maybe he had realized that fucking an imp was just a novelty, fun for a little while, but that he could do so damn much better.

Stolas's long legs took him across the room so quickly--away from Blitz so quickly, and he carried the book with him.

No. Focus on the book, asshole! Not on how it fucking feels to... If he lost the grimoire, they were all screwed. Millie had family that were relatively safe to go to if she stopped being able to pay rent, but they would probably treat Moxxie like shit all over again, and that bitch Crimson wasn't going to be any help. Loona would be fine, right? She would be fine if I.M.P had to disband. She might even be happier away from then, and--and they would all go. Because if he couldn't employ them, what the fuck was anyone sticking around for, and Stolas was taking the book away and without it they would just be imps, the bottom of the fucking foodchain again, having to fight their way up from the bottom not to even get on top, but to just get out from whoever was stepping on them next.

Blitz started after him quickly, but reigned himself in as much as he could, stopped himself from running up and just grabbing.

"Stolas, please, don't... I--I need this this book. Please!" No. Calm down. Calm the fuck down, Blitz. If you panic, he'll throw you out. He'll see the desperation and know how weak you are and he'll throw you out. Calming himself, at least outwardly, Blitz lowered his head.

He knew what he had to say.

It was what he always had to say. Maybe never to Stolas before, but there had been others.

Fuck, there had been others. People thought they only wanted Something, but the truth was, they always wanted Everything. No boundaries allowed. No limits. Full submission or nothing at all. He had to offer everything, a blank check. There was no other choice.

"I need this book, Stolas." Blitz felt sick. His hands had been cold a moment ago, but now all of him seemed to flush with an old heat, an old shame, the kind of filth you couldn't wash off no matter how many showers you took, because he knew. He knew what could happen when he offered this, but he had to do it.

Tears burning his eyes, hot and heavy with all the shame and the old memories, Blitz forced the words out: "I will do anything."

But Stolas didn't take the bait.

He turned around, smiling that sweet smile of his, and shoved a box into Blitz's face, some fancy fucking jewelry-looking box. What the hell? What--what was this? Blitz's head was spinning, or maybe the room was. Maybe the floor was tilted. Maybe there was just nowhere left to stand.

"This," Stolas said, sounding calm and pleased as his grimoire floated beside him and he revealed a lovely amber crystal, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Blitz had just offered to sell him everything, including his self-respect, including his consent, his autonomy, just to keep the book, "is an Asmodean Crystal." He looked happy? How could Stolas be happy right now? But he went on. "It's registered in your name."

Blitz was struggling to keep up.

"A... what?"

Stolas seemed to light up at being asked, and his grimoire opened, a lovely little illusion sparkling to life above it, illustrating how Blitz could use the crystal apparently. Maybe Blitz should be paying attention to that, but he couldn't take it in. Just understanding Stolas's actual words felt hard right now. Trying to make sense of any of this, it was...

Fuck.

It wasn't working.

Oblivious to how he felt, Stolas went on. "Asmodeus has his demons legally travel to Earth for work all the time," he practically chirped, warming to the subject as if he had rehearsed it.

Fuck. He probably had.

Stolas snapped the grimoire shut. "I made the case for you to own one! You will be technically under his jurisdiction, but, you will be able to go anywhere you want in the human realm, without fear of consequence." He left the boxed gem in Blitz's hands and turned away yet again, walking away to shelve his grimoire.

Blitz studied the box for a moment, but his eyes went back to Stolas. This still didn't make sense. None of it did. Why was Stolas brushing him off like this? What..?

Stolas looked at the grimoire for just a moment, his expression incredibly sad, as he added, "Without breaking demon law." He managed a smile, but it didn't last long. As he put the grimoire on the shelf, putting away their tether, snapping the tie that had bound them, there was grief on his face.

Why? Why the fuck was Stolas doing this if it was making him sad? What did--what did it mean? The crystal was beautiful, sure, but it was... it was...

The grimoire was out of reach.

Was Stolas, too?

Stolas turned back to him, his voice quiet and genteel, and Blitz studied him, trying to take in every detail, every clue, studying him like he'd never seen him before.

"You no longer need my grimoire," the beautiful owl said.

He didn't sound happy about it.

"Whaaat?" Blitz tried to brighten the mood, to make it playful, to take this back somewhere safe, but Stolas didn't take the bait. If anything, he only sounded more and more distant as he went on.

"You..." Stolas paused for a moment, for one terrible moment, where if he would just reverse course everything could be okay, but he didn't. "You no longer have any obligation to see me, to touch me, to..." He hesitated again, and Blitz could hear that touch of shame in his voice, "to bed me. You are... you are free of me."

The words were recognizable. Blitz understood the words. But why did Stolas say them like he hated saying them? Why did he say them like something felt dirty? Like he had to wash something away?

Wash... Blitz... away?

That couldn't be what he meant.

This couldn't be happening.

Blitz's expression was entirely unguarded. His playfulness was wrong, mind whirling, heart breaking because it already knew, even if he was refusing to hear it.

"I.. don't... understand. Why are you giving me this?" Blitz gestured at the beautiful crystal again. There had to be a better explanation than that rambling crap Stolas had just offered, because every mixed signal there--Stolas wasn't happy about saying any of it, so why the fuck would he say it? He had the power here. He could say anything, ask for anything, so did he...

What was happening?

I'm doing something wrong. Think, think, fuck!

"Am I not like... fucking you good enough?" Blitz asked, and that felt right. Of course. Like Loona said, he was probably just boring to Stolas now. Maybe Stolas sensed that Blitz couldn't keep up with the crazy shit they got into--maybe Stolas sensed the truth, that there was a vanilla streak a mile fucking wide inside Blitz. Maybe that disgusted him and he didn't want anything to do with it, and, and, and.. yeah! That had to be it! And that was fixable! Hope came rushing back and Blitz started breathing again. "Because I could always, I can always do better," he protested, nodding, but as Stolas moved closer to him, crouching down to be closer to his level, he felt the desperation taking hold again, felt the edges of the world turning sharp as they began to crack.

Stolas didn't want to hear it. Wouldn't let him say it. He didn't care that Blitz could do better. That was the thought running through Blitz's mind, the truth hammering home. It didn't matter how he begged or pleaded or what he offered, Stolas had made some horrifying decision and now he was sticking to it and he was doing it so kindly and so distantly and it was fucking terrifying.

"Blitz." Stolas's tone was gentle but firm. He took the crystal in one hand, Blitz's left hand in the other, and Blitz couldn't move, couldn't breathe. "I'm giving you this because," his beautiful owl went on, "I care."

Stolas smiled as he said it.

As he pressed the crystal into Blitz's glove.

Blitz couldn't move.

So much for breathing.

Their arrangement had felt like a torment sometimes, for so many reasons, none of them Stolas's fault in Blitz's opinion, but as he felt that magical weight pressed into the glove, it felt like chains for the first time.

Or like the smashing of every wall.

Like living in a greenhouse. Some little plant, growing a new flower slowly, because it was safe, but then it didn't grow fast enough and the storm came and the glass broke and there was nothing left but the howling nothingness.

No safety.

Stolas was hurting him. Not physically, but it fucking hurt all the same. Hurting him. But he was being so gentle. So polite. So kind.

Why is he doing this? I love...?

Stolas was still speaking. Right. He had to listen.

"...very deeply for you, and I have for some time."

The crystal bonded so smoothly, its presence a warmth and a weight, almost alive, almost like someone holding his hand. There was no denying the precious magic to it, the immeasurable value, and under any other circumstances, Blitz might have been thrilled to get something like this...

But the crystal felt like a replacement. Not for the grimoire, but for... for Stolas. For them.

Blitz stared into his eyes.

Don't make this be real, Stolas. Please? Please, don't make this be real.

Stolas wasn't even meeting his eyes. "But this... transactional thing we have," he said, gesturing vaguely in the air, as if a gesture and a few words could sum up whole nights spent together, warm and ridiculous and sometimes rough and always good, and the wonderful mornings that came afterwards, "it's not right, anymore." Stolas's beautiful red eyes were finally on him now, his expression pleading, "it hasn't been, it never was. And now, all I can see is how wrong it is to be so tethered to someone in such an unfair way and not know how they feel."

Stolas said it like he was pleading. Like he was begging Blitz to understand. On some level, Blitz recognized that. But at the same time, the words were hitting him like blows, buffeting him and he couldn't understand, couldn't think.

Wrong.

Tethered.

Unfair.

Blitz looked at the crystal again, unable to take his hand fully back, barely able to move. Was this--what was happening? Why was Stolas speaking to him like they were already a world apart...?

Stolas must have sensed how lost Blitz was becoming, because he brightened his tone, even smiling a little as he went on. "But I want you to continue to be who you are. Your business!"

Blitz looked down at the crystal, finally lowering his hand. Be who he was? Without Stolas? But without Stolas... who was he now? When so much had changed? How could... How could Stolas go from grieving to pleading to persuading to this cheerfulness? What did he want? Mind whirling, Blitz was just trying to keep up when Stolas lowered his head and said the words that stopped everything.

"You don't have to stay here with me."

A flash of white static in Blitz's mind--then panic.

No. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.

The bird took off his top hat and smiled at him, still here on the ground with him, low enough that he wouldn't loom over Blitz, wasn't overshadowing him, dominating him, like he was close when he, he, he, he fucking wasn't. He was still talking from somewhere out of fucking reach. Didn't he see that? Didn't he--what was he doing?

"But I... I want you to," Stolas said. Did he? After the way he'd sounded so ashamed earlier? After all of these messages bouncing back and forth so quickly that they weren't even mixed, they were just a chaos of atoms crashing around in the void.

"I want you to stay here with me," Stolas said more firmly, "because you want to. Only. If you want to."

Go.

Go if you don't want to be here.

Only stay if you do. If you're sure. If you understand--but how the fuck could he understand? Everything was flying at Blitz so quickly that all the velvet in that voice couldn't soften the blow. Barely breathing, hardly even aware of his own body, all Blitz could do was feel--feel himself flailing in that howling chaos inside, the emptiness, and try to grasp at any answer. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening--

So maybe it wasn't.

Yes!

That was it! That had to be it. This wasn't happening. Stolas was playing a game and wanted Blitz to play, too. Thank fuck!

Blitz's chest eased up some and he smiled and, even if felt a little forced, even if he heard his own desperation, he said, "Ohhhh, okay. You're fucking with me! This is an interesting roleplay. Never done this one, but I can get into it. Alright, how's this, alright..." Play. Play, play, play, play, play. Play. Play. Blitz walked away to the bed, pressed his back against one of the posters, and struck a dramatic pose. Kinda rude to jump into a roleplay without talking about it first--they usually were pretty good about saying what they wanted and didn't want out of heavier kink scenes, the one bit of communication they did fucking right--but he wasn't gonna shame Stolas for that. Fuck, thank fuck that was all this was! Blitz threw himself into the roleplay with enthusiasm. "Oh, Stolas, I'll stay with you!" He danced towards him. "I love you so much, I--"

Stolas held a hand up, firm, in front of his face, a silent command:

Stop.

Blitz stopped.

"Thank you, Blitz." Stolas stood.

The gap between them was rushing apart again. Doors were closing on something precious.

The cold was back.

The howling void.

"For awakening me," Stolas went on, his voice so kind, so tender, so loving. "For making me so happy, even if only for a little while." He put his hat back on.

No.

No.

Blitz had fucked up.

This wasn't a roleplay.

This wasn't a game.

This was real.

This was real and he had fucked it up. He was losing Stolas. He was losing Stolas. He hadn't understood and he fucked it up and he was losing him now and--

Stolas started for the door. "I wish you the best with your business," he said, suddenly brisk and formal, impersonal.

"Wait, what?" Blitz turned after him, still racing to try and recover, to find his footing. The ground had been unstable after all, but the world wasn't tilted anymore, it was upside down. "You were--serious? Hold, hold on now, Stolas. What the fuck?"

Stolas gripped the door. "I have my answer, Blitz. You needn't say anything."

He left.

Blitz ran after him.

"I have wanted you for so long," Stolas mused, justifying, aching, striding down a darkened hallway, the paintings covered with dropcloths as if Stolas expected to be leaving soon, as if he had begun saying goodbye long ago. "The fact that you couldn't believe that I might have these feelings about you..."

Feelings?

Blitz was chasing him, but the words Stolas was saying were like chaotic punches, blows coming, shattering everything. Feelings? This was real. Feelings? This was real and he had fucked up and Stolas was walking away and he couldn't just let him go, he couldn't--he had to stop this! Fuck!

"...that your first instinct is that it's always... about sex," he said it like it was such a tawdry thing, when it was wonderful between them, fun and beautiful and so, so much of what they had had, what was already gone, what was bleeding out between them too quickly to be staunched, "that's enough to know what this is."

"What?!" Blitz demanded, shock beginning to turn to something else. He couldn't keep up with the shock, with the pain, with being gutted, with being ripped off the plane he knew and thrust into something else, but there was one way he could survive this. He could fight. He could fight Stolas, fight this, fight the terror, the bleeding-out of their relationship, he could fight. And he wanted to. He wanted to--he didn't want to. Fuck, he didn't want to at all, but he needed to. Stolas wasn't fighting to keep it, so Blitz fucking would.

"FUCK YOU, Stolas! You spring this Feelings bullshit on me, are you fucking kidding?" Stolas just kept walking, but so did Blitz, following him into a grand hall, empty but for the light and their voices, his echoing with his own ugliness. The doors tried to close on him, but he kicked through them, determined not to let anything get in between them. "Can I get a fucking minute to think after everything you put me through? You pompous, rich asshole!"

The word was like a blow. Blitz felt it land. He hated it, but he couldn't take it back. He couldn't back down. He had to fight this, he had to fight, to fight Stolas, to stop him from leaving, to chase him and explain and get time to think and to understand because maybe, maybe they wanted the same fucking thing, maybe they could be on the same page but if Blitz opened that page, if he even looked at that page, and he opened himself up to it, and Stolas wasn't there too? He wouldn't recover. He wasn't good at this shit, at feelings and sincerity and opening up, but that didn't mean he didn't want it. He was bad at love, but he wanted it, fuck he wanted it, needed it, craved it, and he felt it. Love was there, fueling the anger, fueling the pain, bruising the air between them as he shouted at the only man he truly wanted, who was walking away because he didn't want Blitz enough if Blitz couldn't give him an immediate answer, if Blitz was reeling from the whiplash, if Blitz hadn't spent all day thinking about this too and...

What the fuck?

How?

How was this happening?

How had this all blown up so badly?

Bltiz was breaking. Adrenaline surging, he paced and turned, tail lashing.

"Treat me like one of your little butler imps? You can't just dismiss me like that!" Snapping out of it, he stalked after Stolas, fury making him so much braver than his desires ever could. "I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time." Raw. Too true. Too open. Too honest. His throat ached and his eyes burned and tears began to fall. "That you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as important!"

Stolas stopped, and so Blitz did as well, feet spread, tail low, balanced to fight. Stolas wouldn't look at him, so Blitz went on. Fuck it. What was there to lose now?

"Well I'm not letting you, bitch! LET'S GO!"

FIGHT ME, STOLAS.

TURN AND FIGHT ME.

FIGHT ME SO I CAN PROVE THAT I WANT YOU.

FIGHT ME SO WE CAN HAVE THE TIME I NEED TO CATCH UP AND BREATHE AND UNDERSTAND.

I CARE.

DON'T YOU SEE?

I DO CARE.

I'M HERE. CHASING YOU DOWN. FIGHTING FOR US WHEN YOU WON'T.

I'M RIGHT HERE!

FIGHT ME!

WHY WON'T YOU FIGHT ME?

His voice echoed in the room and he knew, even as he shouted, that Stolas wasn't really there anymore. Stolas wasn't really hearing him. He hadn't been hearing him since he left the bedroom.

Blitz was losing this fight, but he wasn't going to give up. Chest heaving, he stood still, waiting, hoping, fearing, needing.

Stolas was very quiet for a long moment, but when he spoke, everything was there in the first tone of his voice. Heartache. Goodbye. It was over. It was over.

"Blitz," Stolas said, kind to the last, even when he was the cruelest thing that had ever happened in Blitz's world, "I think so very highly of you." So much self-composure, self-control--

But then it snapped, and when Stolas's voice broke, Blitz's heart broke right along with it.

"I didn't realize," Stolas was crying now, his voice tight, on the verge of losing all control, "you think so low of me."

Eyes widening, Blitz straightened. What? Was that really what Stolas thought he was saying? Didn't Stolas know how beautiful he was? That his voice was in Blitz's dreams every night? Didn't he--no. Because I didn't tell him. I have to tell him.

"Goodbye, Blitz." Tears ran freely down Stolas's face.

No. No, no. Blitz could fix this. He understood now. He reached out, leaping forward. "Stolas, wait. I'm sor--"

But magic swirled around him.

Stolas was gone.

Blitz stood below the steps of the palace.

The doors were closed.

Stolas was gone.

"What..."

Stolas was gone.

"The..."

I did this.

"FUCK!" he screamed into the sky, but there were only echoes now. No one was listening.

Stolas was gone.

[danny-likes-sharks]

i love all of your writing and have a cute little request for you. i think i might have requested something similar on your previous account but don't know if it's ok to request again since you switched so please ignore this if so. anyway on to the request

little!misamo and little!dahyun backstage after a concert where dahyun and mina are both whiny and sleepy while samo are still hyped up on the concert energy and the other 5 members are trying to divide and conquer taking care of two hyper and two fussy littles. you can choose who ends up taking care of who and what comfort items and supplies they have packed for situations like this

i know it's been months but i've been struggling to write stuff and actually liking it. besides it would be disrespectful from me to just half-ass a rq.

thank you for your patience and i hope you're still around ❣️

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

touring is as rewarding and exciting as it is phisically and emotionally draining. there's a lot of emotions going around and regressing is a common occurrence, which is why they had four little girls in their hands.

momo and sana where little as soon as they stepped out of the stage, running hand in hand to find their belongings and while this usually would've been a clear sign of where they stand age-wise, everyone was just coming down from stage and had too many emotions and things going on to realise the two girls were little and had ran off.

mina and dahyun got younger and younger with every step they took to arrive to the waiting room just dropping to the couch as soon as they could. their eyelids were slowly closing when chaos ensued.

"alright, so we're all here right?" jihyo asked before begining to count and re-counting after getting to 7, why there where 7? why did they have 2 missing? who is even missing? na...jeong...oh, this can't be good "has anyone seen sana and momo?" the girls looked amongst themselves finally noticing they were not there. thank god jihyo was good at handling this kind of situations.

she got everyone to sit on the couch to fully asses the situation and as looked over she realized they have 2 girls missing with an unknown headspace and 2 girls in here clearly regressed and tired "okay, we have to work with what we know. tzu and chae, i need you to stay here and take care of dubu and minari while jeong, nayeon and i try to find momo and sana. we'll each go in separate ways to cover more space. i need everyone to have their phones on them, text on the groupchat to update, let's go" it was serious, they didn't need the staff finding the girls little, it was their secret for a reason.

the three girls left the room and began their search while the remaining four girls stayed in the room. "let's get you two changed meanwhile, okay?" tzuyu took the lead and while their clothes weren't particularly uncomfortable since they were on their encore outfits, they had to get the girls on warmer clothes before they got sick.

she marched to the girls bags, and opened them to find their clothes, their stuffies and blankets, grabbing everything to set it next to the awaiting girls, making sure to change their clothes first in case they fall asleep. once changed she gave them their blankets and stuffies and allowed them to slowly close their eyes.

tzu: mina and dahyun are sleeping. please be quiet when you come back

seen by: nayeon, jeongyeon, jihyo

jeongyeon puts her phone back in her pocket and goes into the room on her left, to finally find their missing girls. "here you are, we were so worried what were you two thinking? we were so worried, what do you have to say for yourselves, huh?!" she screamed, letting all emotions out. bad move. as soon as she finished talking she was met by quivering lips and tears. "'m sorry, i just wanted to es..ets..ex-plore so i asked momorin to come with me" sana tried to explain, still crying. "i'm sorry i yelled, i was just too worried about you two. como here and let me hug you, we can talk about it later, okay? i'm not mad. let's go with the others, okay?" she tried to comfort both littles. once they stopped crying she took their hands and led them to the waiting room.

by the time they arrived both littles where too tired, and as soon as they got changed and settled in the couch they were both out like a light.

[7-teen]

SWEET NOTHINGS | k.m.

CHAPTER 1

minors do not interact

genre: seventeen collage au

pairing: mingyu x reader named romi (i hate y/n)

series warnings: minors do not interact : feel free to let me know if im missing any (warnings for specific chapter will not be crossed out) swearing, drugs/weed and alcohol, violence, disordered eating, self harm, toxic relations, explicit sex scenes, slut shaming, body shaming, suicide ideation, light bullying, insecurities (body), mention of weight loss / weight gain

wc: 2.56 k

description: moving across the country for collage to get away from your controlling parents, you never once imagined the kind of people you would meet. when one boy in particular begins to pester you to no end, you are almost ready to throw in the towel until one day all of it changes.

1 | 2

note: if i slip between first and second point of view, please forgive me. i am writing on wattpad is first person, and here in second person so it is a little bit of a struggle | i am also going to be using a mix seventeen’s stage names and given names | minors do not interact |

“hey, do you happen to have a pencil? i was in such a rush this morning that i completely forgot to grab one!” the boy sitting beside you on the last day of your first week of collage asks you.

you looked at him for a moment before looking down at the three pencils that sat perfectly in line on your desk, sharpened perfectly to your liking. you were in quite disbelief that someone would forget something so customary for a class that they are paying thousands of dollars, at least, to attend.

“just give it back at the end of class,” you sigh as you hand it over by the eraser.

“thank you so much! you’re a lifesaver!” he practically did a little hop in his chair before turning to the professor who had just begun the lecture.

it was about half way through the lecture when you got a light tap on your shoulder from the same boy. when you looked over at him, he was pushing a folded paper towards you. you hesitantly took it as be went back to taking notes with a small smile on his face.

i’m dk!, thanks again for the pencil. there is a party happening tonight if you are interested?

you read it over twice before glancing back at dk. he was scribbling away, writing whatever the professor was talking about at that moment. you stopped and thought about it for a second. this is something you never do, something you would have never in a million years thought of doing. but was that thought nothing but your parents controlling words speaking to you? you were twenty one, perfectly legal to be drinking and smoking weed if you really wanted to.

you wrote back: i’m romi, i guess i will come. when and where?

you slid the note back over to him before going back to your own notes. he never passes the note back to you the rest of the class, and you had almost forgotten about it until the professor released everyone from the lecture.

“romi? that is such a nice name! so the party starts at 8 pm tonight. it’s at my frat house here on campus! i can come get you, or walk with you if you are living in dorms,” dk began explaining the moment he had the go ahead to stop taking notes.

you closed your textbook and notes, sliding them into their specific pocket in your backpack before you looked back at him with your hand extended for your pencil. he looked down at it for a second before placing it in your hand. you made a mental note to sharpen it again when you had the chance.

“i live in dorms,” you respond simply to him, pulling the strap of your back over your shoulder after having finished putting everything away neatly in your bag.

“got any classes left?” he asked as you guys began to walk out of the classroom.

“no, this was my last one,” you inform him.

“actually, my friend and i have this cool spot and i-“ he was saying before he was cut off by two men, one that towered over the other by quite a bit.

“dk! look at you! you found yourself a girlfriend?” the shorter one asked in a joking tone, as he locked dk in a headlock.

“no wonders i never have a girlfriend,” dk muttered under his breath. “but i think that her and i are more best friends material than dating material, no offence.”

“none taken at all,” you assure him as you guys begin to walk slowly down the halls. many girls whisper and stare as you walk.

“best friend? i’m sure if you pressed the right buttons you would get something else,” the taller man said as he looked you up and down, his bottom lip pulled into his mouth.

“god you’re disgusting, gyu,” the short man almost snorted as he threw his arm across your shoulders. dk looked at you with an apologetic expression. “don’t listen to him, he never knows when to shut up.”

“i am sure he doesn’t,” you mutter almost to yourself as everyone picks up a bit of speed to go with the flow of traffic in the halls.

“I’m seungcheol, call me cheol, asshole back there is mingyu,” cheol tells you. his arm was still tightly around your shoulders.

“romi,” you respond slightly annoyed, your arms are crossed tightly across your chest.

“why don’t we have more girls in our group?” cheol calls back to mingyu and dk who have fallen in step with one another behind you two. you could feel cheol looking down at you as he asks.

“was that meant to be a rhetorical question?” you asked as you all turned a corner. you soon became aware of all three boys looking at you, cheol and dk with amusement, mingyu with annoyance and slight anger.

“i don’t think he was talking to you,” mingyu snapped, coming to a complete stop. a girl behind him nearly ran into him as she looked up from her phone.

“based off your reaction, you seem to know what i believe the problem is already,” you tell him, about to start walking off again before you are cut off by mingyu. you look up at him.

“i haven’t done shit,” he said sternly, almost yelling. his finger an inch away from your face as he steps into you, forcing you to take a step back.

“i never said you did, but thanks for clearing up my suspicions,” you say sarcastically with a slight chuckle.

mingyu took another step into you, and when you went to step back again you hit a wall. your face was an inch from his chest, you could smell his expensive cologne waft into your face. thinking back, you could have probably seen each individual fibre in his shirt that stretched across his toned chest.

“hey, hey, hey, leave her be,” dk said, placing a firm hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“whatever,” mingyu snapped as he turned and walked away.

you pause for a moment to regain your composure before you begin walking in the opposite direction that mingyu had gone off in. cheol and dk quickly catch up behind you as you walk, and cheol’s arm falls comfortably onto your shoulders again.

“so, as i was saying before gyu and cheol rudely interrupted, a group of our friends are going to hang out before the party, and i was wondering if you wanted to join too,” dk smiled at you as you walked with your arms still bound tightly across your chest.

“i promise you that the only other member of our group that you have to worry about is dino, and he is much more toned down that mingyu,” cheol tried to assure you.

“are you guys going to follow me right to my dorm?” you ask, avoiding the question at hand.

“that entirely depends on how hot your roommate is,” cheol laughs, but he quickly stops once he catches your glare. “sorry, bad joke.”

“okay, but she is pretty hot,” you admit with a small laugh after a moment of silence passes between the three of you. “you might be her type.”

“really? do you think you could get her to come to the party?” cheol asks in a way too excited tone.

“that wouldn’t be difficult,” you laugh, releasing a yelp as cheol grabs you by the waist and spins you. “wow, you get comfortable easy.”

“oh, just wait until you meet minghao and vernon,” dk laughs as the three of you leave the building into the beautiful, hot summer day. you squint and try to block the sun with your hand the best you can as your eyes adjust to the light.

“you never answered the question,” cheol points out, followed by dk pouting.

“i mean, i don’t really have anything else to do i guess,” you groan as you kick at the grass under your feet.

“is that a yes?” dk asks. when you look at him his eyes are practically sparkly with hope. you release a long sigh.

“that is a yes,” once you had looked back at dk, you knew there was no chance of you getting out of this one.

“alright! so we need to get your bathing suit. and maybe your roommate will come?” cheol asks, sounding slightly shy about the request. it is a very different side to him than the overly confident persona he first gave off.

“a bathing suit?” you stop dead in your tracks.

“yeah, we all go hang out by a lake about an hour away from here. what’s wrong? is everything okay?” cheol asks, sounding slightly worried.

“yeah, i mean it’s fine. i just can’t swim,” you admit slightly embarrassed as you begin to walk again, quicker than before.

“oh that’s fine, not everyone goes in the water. you can just hang out on the dock and dip your feet in the water,” cheol says with a relieved tone in his voice that makes you want to laugh.

not too long after, you guys reach your dorm. its a small two bedroom dorm, with a tiny shared bathroom and a tiny shared kitchen. it isn’t much but it is perfect and your roommate and you haven’t run into any issues yet.

“harlow?” you call out as you step into the dorm. you were kind of nervous asking her as you guys didn’t know each other very well considering it was the first week of classes.

“what?” she called back before her door opened. her eyes widened slightly at the two men standing behind you before she regained her composure.

“want to come hang out at a lake with cheol, dk and a few of their friends with us?” you ask her, motioning to cheol and dk respectively.

“um, yeah sure! give me about twenty minutes,” she smiles at you guys before disappearing back into her room.

dk and cheol follow you into your room as you kneel down by the drawer you have that is full of unworn bikinis. you sigh as you look at them all, a overwhelming feeling settling in.

“can we choose which one you wear?” dk asks, almost excitedly.

“you can do a fashion show for us!” cheol says, but he is excited.

“i mean, i guess so?” you agree hesitantly as the two boys kneel down over your bikini drawer.

when they finally lay the three bathing suits on your bed, you feel almost more overwhelmed than you did before. they chose three bikini’s that you would have never decided to wear, in fact all three still had the tag on them as you had opened the package when you received them and almost immediately put them into your drawer.

“we won’t look!” dk announced as him and cheol turned their backs to you, covering their eyes with their hand as added protection.

you picked up the first one. it was high waisted, which was promising, but leopard print. the top had a rectangular gold ring holding the two cups together. when you put it on you immediately knew it was a no. it cut into you at weird placed, the cups of the top were too big, and the bottoms looks like a leopard print diaper. you audibly laughed at yourself in the mirror.

“you guys can look, but this most definitely is not a bikini i will ever be wearing. unless i gained weight in my boobs and butt and lost weight in my stomach and thighs,” you laugh as you try and adjust it to make it less awful.

“how could you even lose any weight from your stomach or thighs?” dk asks as him and cheol turn and around and cheol absolutely loses it in a fit of laughter. “do they think girls are sticks?”

“okay, that was my choice. i apologize for making you wear it,” cheol admitted as he regains control over himself. “it had potential.”

“i guess you could say that,” you laugh as you pick up the second one. “turn around.”

as you are changing into this one, you can’t help but imagine what your parents reaction to this whole situation would be. they would be so mad at just the fact that there are two boys in the room, not to mention the fact that you are changing while they are there as well.

this bathing suit was navy blue. the bottoms cut into a v in the front, and the top was one of those that look as though they are upside down. you knew that the boys were going to love this one, with the amount of underboob that was on full display. you tucked her arms under them, in an attempt to hide it.

“i don’t know,” you mumbled, looking in your mirror.

dk peaks around through his fingers before he hits cheol and they both look at what you are wearing. cheol releases a low whistle as he leans back, not even hiding the fact that his eyes are tracing you from head to toe, and dk’s ears begin to change to a shade of red.

“i mean you, it looks. you look really good,” dk stammers as he tries to find the best way to compliment you.

“you would definitely have everyones attention,” cheol laughs as he glances over at dk who is growing visibly more, uncomfortable? with the situation.

“i am saying no. this is a no,” you announced, as you motion for them to turn with one hand, while the other stays secure under your breasts.

the last one was black, with plain midrise bottoms. the top was a normal triangle bikini too too, except that the laces that go around your chest lace around you multiple times. once you were happy with how you tied it, you smiled at yourself in the mirror.

“you guys can turn,” you mumble as you look, admire, yourself in the mirror. for the first time in a long time you were actually happy with what you saw in the mirror.

“wow,” dk almost whispered. you weren’t even sure if you were meant to hear it.

cheol said nothing, but had a goofy smile spread across his face. his eyes flickered all across your body, but it felt different than when mingyu did it. when cheol checked you out, it felt genuine, whereas when mingyu did it it felt as though he was inspecting a piece of meat.

“i think i like this one,” you smile lightly at yourself in the mirror, before grabbing an oversized david bowie tee shirt and throwing it on.

“god, she keep getting better,” cheol whistled, before you launched a pillow at him that had been laying on your floor. “sorry.”

“romi? you guys ready?” harlow called through the door after a knock. you pull on a pair of jean shorts.

“yep! just one second!” you call back as you grab a bag, shoving a towel, your wallet, a water bottle and a few other things into a tote before opening your door.

“you driving dk?” cheol asks as you all make your way to dk’s vehicle before he even answers.

“as always,” dk laughs as he throws his arm over your shoulder, mirroring cheol with harlow. you could already tell that those two were going to get along really well

[anthurak]

Fanfiction Ask, 23.

"Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?"

So there are a couple different ways I could answer this question:

On the one hand, I have yet to actually finish any multi-chapter stories that I have started. So I supposed in that regard, the end or rather finishing a story is the hardest.

When it comes to individual chapters and one-shots, it's a bit different. I don't write in a linear 'start at the beginning and stop at the end' fashion, instead my process is something like 'spitballing a jigsaw puzzle'.

I might start at the beginning of a chapter/story, but as soon as I hit any kind of block, instead of struggling with it, I instead jump ahead to start different passage/scene/dialogue I had an idea for, and once I hit a block on that, I jump to another, and so on, until eventually I've got a collection of growing 'pieces' of a story/chapter and I'm gradually filling in the blanks between them.

And as those blanks get smaller, they generally get progressively harder and harder to fill. To the point where in the early stages I can be churning out hundreds or even up to a thousand words in an hour, but in the later stages I can be spending that same amount of time agonizing over two or three lines.

So I suppose in this regard, the 'end' of a one-shot or chapter is also the hardest for me here too.

[bokutosbiceps]

✨How do sis✨ I'd like to request a match up with someone from either one piece or Haiykuu pls

Idk what to start with lol um

I'm an extrovert with long dreadlocks, that loves to draw and crochet. My love languages are gift giving, words of affirmation, and quality time. My favorite colors are greens, especially moss green. I love plants but only have one, it's thriving tho. And um my favorite aesthetic is cottage/fairy core aesthetic, I prefer cutesy kdrama-like dates over any other kind I guess🌱🌱🌱

I hope that's enough to work with୧⁠(⁠＾⁠ ⁠〰⁠ ⁠＾⁠)⁠୨

it’s perfect, coco !! i hope you like your matches 💕😁 here we go !!

one piece

i match you with USOPP 🤎

first of all, usopp is a sucker for partners who can give him words of affirmation. tell him he’s strong, you love him, he’s handsome, he’s your hero, etc + he’ll be putty for your molding. he also really loves to give words of affirmation, but that can only come after he’s gotten comfortable enough with you to show you his soft side. so the love language that he presents to you in the beginning stages of your relationship is gift giving! whenever he comes back to the sunny from little trips around random islands, he will always have a knick knack for you to enjoy. he’ll puff up his chest + tell you about the seven foot, five hundred pound man he had to fight in order to get you that gift! so you better be grateful.

a relationship with usopp would include all of the fun in the world, but also lots of cuddles and sweetness. once he gets to know you + comes to trust you, he wants to do absolutely everything with you! come sit next to him while he fishes, while he tinkers with new gadgets, while he’s relaxing on the deck in the sunshine. sitting next to him during meals is a must, too, because he wants to whisper little jokes about other crew members to you just so he can see you giggle.

usopp really learns to refine his romantic qualities when he’s with you. he had never really thought of himself as a romantic man until he met you, but ever since then, he’s found himself wanting to pick you flowers, make you little gadgets to help you with daily life, and let you lay in his lap while he massages your scalp. for the very first date that he took you on as an o f f i c i a l couple, he took you to a clearing filled with yellow and orange daisies. there wasn’t really much planned out besides that, but from the way you smiled from ear to ear and hugged him tightly, he felt as though he had taken you out to a five star restaurant.

pls crochet him a hat. he w i l l wear it + treasure it like luffy treasure’s his straw hat.

haikyuu

i match you with HINATA SHOYO 🧡

oh god, being with this man would be a whirlwind, wouldn’t it? but it’d be so fun! you can’t find someone more affectionate than shoyo + he wants to shout his love for you from the tops of every rooftop he comes across!

shoyo loves to hold you close or be touching you in some way while you draw. it’s something he thinks is very intimate; he’ll lay his head in your lap, drape himself over your shoulders, cuddle up next to you then peer over your shoulder to watch you work your magic. whether you drawings be on paper or digital, he will ask for a copy so he can look at them whenever he pleases. he absolutely loves your drawings + he thinks its so cool that you can create something just like that!

you want cutesy dates? you got cutesy dates! he takes you to every sweets cafe he comes across. seriously, any time he’s going somewhere new + he comes across a place he thinks you’ll like, he’ll take a photo of it so he can remember to take you there on your next date! he’ll order a bunch of sweets for you both and lay them out on the table so he can take adorably aesthetic photos of you with the food, which he’ll later look at when struggling to decide on which photo he should set as his new background/lock screen.

a/n: are you even surprised @ your one piece match up, coco? you knew it was coming LOL. i hope i did your boy justice !!  anyways, i hope you loved it 😁