#Old Wounds music video
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regarding the Old Wounds video
If an artist can utilize a controversial medium in their art, that's cool as hell. This has been done for centuries and it is always met with resistance. That means that it is hitting the right buttons, socially, aesthetically, and politically. If you are mad, ask yourself why and at whom you are upset.
Then look at this for a while.
#l.s. dunes#old wounds#ai art utilized by artists#fuck gate keeping#don't tell me what real art is I will decide for myself#old wounds music video#but is it art?#anthony green#frank iero#tucker rule#travis stever#tim payne
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LS Dunes - Old Wounds LIVE @ Arizona Financial Theatre (x)
The Jaws of Life Tour - November 7th 2023
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in light of the old wounds music vid and all the dunes drama of the last few days, let’s not forget to support real artists!!! i made this sticker design thingy!!! art is the weapon!!!
#art is the weapon#mcr#my chemical romance#support artists#fuck the old wounds music video all my homies hate the old wounds music video
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No Strings, No Heart
Kinkvember Day 23: Friends with Benefits
ITZY Lia (Choi Jisu) x Male reader
13.3k words
You and Lia had been friends since high school, back when neither of you had any idea what life would have in store. She had been the new girl, fresh from Canada, with a soft-spoken voice and an air of quiet confidence that intrigued everyone, including you. You’d been assigned seats next to each other in English class, and what started as casual small talk soon grew into a friendship you hadn’t expected.
Lia, or Jisu as she’d been known then, had dreams even back then that set her apart. While most of your classmates were focused on cramming for college entrance exams or deciding what clubs to join, Lia was already chasing something bigger: a career in music. She was always humming under her breath, jotting lyrics in the margins of her notebook, and rushing off to auditions after school.
When she finally became a trainee, it wasn’t a surprise, but it did mark the start of a more distant phase in your friendship. She spent most of her time at the company, training long hours, while you finished school and moved on to university.
Despite the distance, you kept in touch—texts here and there, occasional coffee meetups when she had a rare free day. When she debuted with ITZY, you were one of the first to congratulate her, your heart swelling with pride as you watched her music videos and performances from your tiny apartment.
Even as her life grew more hectic, Lia never let go of your connection. Whenever her schedule allowed, she’d call you up, sometimes late at night, her voice exhausted but warm as she asked about your day, complaining about the pressures of idol life in the same breath. She was still Jisu to you, your old high school friend, even as the world knew her as Lia.
-----
It was one of those late-night meetups—a rainy evening in her cozy Seoul apartment—that changed the dynamic between you. Her space smelled of vanilla candles and faintly of jasmine tea, her usual go-to after a long day. You sat awkwardly on her beige couch, holding a mug that was almost too hot, watching her as she lounged on the floor, cross-legged in an oversized sweater and shorts.
“You’re always so tense,” Lia said suddenly, her voice cutting through the soft patter of rain against the windows. Her damp hair fell in natural waves around her face, framing her features in a way that was almost disarming. This was not the poised, camera-ready idol the world saw. This was the Lia you knew—barefoot, casual, real.
You chuckled nervously, unsure where she was going with this. “Work’s been crazy, I guess.”
“That’s always your excuse,” she teased, setting down her mug with a soft clink. “But honestly, you’ve been like this since high school. Always wound up. Always overthinking.”
“Well, sorry for being consistent,” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.
She smiled too, but there was something different in her expression—something calculated yet sincere. “You know, we could help each other out.”
Your brow furrowed. “Help each other out… how?”
Lia tilted her head, studying you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. “I don’t want anything complicated,” she began, her tone careful but confident. “No drama, no commitments. Just… something easy. For both of us.”
The words felt surreal, hanging in the air between you. “Wait, are you saying…?”
“I’m saying,” she interrupted, her voice softer now, “that we’re both stressed. Both stuck in our own routines. And you’re… safe.”
“Safe?” you echoed, unsure whether to feel flattered or insulted.
Lia rolled her eyes, laughing. “You know what I mean. I trust you. You’re not going to do anything stupid like fall in love with me. And let’s be honest—you’ve never been great with relationships.”
“Wow, thanks,” you muttered, though you couldn’t deny the accuracy of her words. Dating had never come easily to you, and Lia knew it better than anyone.
“I’m just saying it makes sense,” she said, her smile softening into something almost reassuring. “We’ve known each other forever. We trust each other. And I need… an escape, you know? A way to blow off steam without it becoming a mess.”
You hesitated, turning the idea over in your head. “I don’t know, Lia. Stuff like this—doesn’t it get messy?”
“Not if we’re honest with each other,” she said simply. “We set boundaries. We stick to them. And if it doesn’t work, we stop. No harm, no foul.”
Her words were logical, almost too logical, and the idea of being close to someone you trusted—someone who understood you without the usual complications—was more tempting than you wanted to admit.
“I… guess,” you said finally, your voice tinged with hesitation. “If you’re sure about this.”
Lia’s smile widened, a spark of relief and something else—satisfaction?—in her eyes. “I’m sure.”
And just like that, the boundaries of your friendship shifted. You told yourself it was perfect—a way to connect without risking anything deeper.
The first few times were… great. Better than great. There was an ease to it that neither of you had anticipated, a natural rhythm that made it feel less like a new arrangement and more like something that had always been there, waiting to be discovered. The way your bodies fit together was effortless, as though they’d been designed for this connection, every touch and movement aligning perfectly. It wasn’t just about the physical pleasure—though that was undeniable—it was the comfort of being close to someone who understood you in a way no one else did.
Lia had a way of melting into your arms, her laughter and sighs carrying a vulnerability that made the moments feel intimate even in their simplicity. You liked similar things, and exploring that together felt easy, seamless. The way her breath hitched against your skin, the way she responded to every touch with a soft moan or a shiver, made it feel less like an arrangement and more like a quiet escape for both of you.
When she reached for you in the stillness of her room, there was no hesitation, no awkwardness—just a mutual understanding that you could let go with each other.
It was everything she had promised: no drama, no complications. It was a release, a way to step outside the stress of your individual lives and find solace in each other. You told yourself that this was enough, that it didn’t need to mean anything more. And for a while, it didn’t.
But then, one night, everything shifted.
The atmosphere in Lia’s room felt thick with the unspoken, a cocoon of warmth and intimacy as the world outside faded away. The soft scent of jasmine and the lingering notes of her perfume were a quiet contrast to the faint tension in her voice as she spoke.
“It’s been… such a day,” she said with a sigh, leaning back against the headboard, her oversized sweater slipping from one shoulder. Her fingers idly played with the hem, a distraction as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “I feel like everyone wanted a piece of me today. The schedules, the cameras, the smiles—they don’t stop.”
You nodded, sitting close enough to her that the faintest brush of her knee against yours sent sparks up your spine. “You don’t have to explain. I can see it,” you said softly, meeting her eyes. “You’re always carrying so much.”
Her lips twitched into a small, tired smile. “Sometimes, I wish I could just turn it all off. Just… for a little while.”
“You can, here,” you offered, your voice steady despite the way your heart was racing. “You don’t have to be anything but you.”
Her eyes softened, and she reached out to touch your arm, her fingers grazing your skin. “That’s why I asked you to come tonight,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, almost fragile. “I need this. I need you.”
The weight of her words hit you with a force you weren’t entirely prepared for, but you nodded, leaning in slightly. “I’m here,” you said simply, your hand finding hers and squeezing gently.
The next moments unfolded slowly, deliberately, as if neither of you wanted to rush. Her sweater slipped further, pooling around her elbows as she lifted it over her head and let it fall to the floor. Her body, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, was breathtaking. She looked up at you, her eyes steady but vulnerable, as if daring you to say something, to break the spell.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmured, the words escaping before you could stop them.
A soft laugh escaped her, and she reached up to brush your cheek. “You’re such a sap,” she teased, though her voice was warm, her expression soft. “But I like it.”
You leaned in to kiss her, your lips meeting in a slow, deliberate connection. It started tenderly, a gentle brush of warmth, but quickly deepened, your hands finding her waist, her hips, exploring the curve of her body. She gasped softly against your lips, her hands sliding under your shirt to tug it off, the cool air of the room making your skin prickle as she traced patterns along your chest.
Guiding her back against the bed, you hovered over her, her hair spilling across the pillow in soft waves like a dark halo. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated her features, her flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips evidence of the moment’s growing intensity. Her hands found your shoulders, her touch steady but eager as her breath quickened. The feel of her bare skin against yours, the warmth of her body beneath you, sent a rush of heat through you.
Before moving further, you paused, reaching for the small foil packet on the bedside table. Lia watched you, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, her gaze steady yet filled with trust. You slipped the condom on quickly, her hand brushing lightly against your arm in a silent gesture of reassurance.
As you align yourself with her, you paused again, your gaze locking onto hers. “Are you ready?” you asked softly, the weight of your question hanging in the quiet space between you.
Her lips curled into a faint smile, and her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. “Absolutely, I need this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with unmistakable longing. “I need you.”
The moment of joining was slow, deliberate, her body tensing slightly as you pressed into her. A quiet gasp escaped her lips, her fingers tightening on your shoulders, her nails faintly digging in as she adjusted to the closeness. You paused, giving her time, your heart pounding in sync with hers. Her breaths quickened, each rise and fall of her chest matching the rhythm you were beginning to create. The heat of her skin against yours was all-consuming, grounding and electrifying all at once.
You began to move, slow and measured, each motion deliberate. Her soft moans and quiet gasps filled the air, small sounds that spurred you on, each one sending shivers down your spine. Her hands roamed your back, nails occasionally dragging across your skin, her hips lifting instinctively to meet yours. The connection between you was unspoken but undeniable, a rhythm building that felt less like something physical and more like a quiet surrender.
Her lips parted as she whispered your name, her voice soft and trembling, a plea that made your chest ache. The way she looked up at you took your breath away. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes fluttering open and shut, and the vulnerability in her gaze made you falter for a moment. You’d always thought Lia was beautiful, but here, now, she was something more—raw, open, and completely unguarded. Every quiet sound she made, every brush of her hands against you, seemed to weave a thread between you that went far beyond the act itself.
Your pace deepened, becoming more deliberate as you leaned down to capture her lips. Her response was immediate, her mouth opening to you as her hands slid into your hair, pulling you closer. The heat between you grew, a symphony of gasps, moans, and murmured words filling the space. Her legs tightened around your waist, her body pressing into yours as if to pull you even closer.
You pulled back slightly, your lips trailing down her jawline to her neck, brushing over the delicate curve of her throat. Her skin was warm and flushed beneath your touch, and you felt her shiver as your mouth moved lower, pressing kisses behind her ear. The spot you’d discovered during your time together—the one that always drove her wild. Her reaction was immediate, a soft gasp escaping her lips as her body arched into you.
Her hands clung to your shoulders as your lips continued their path, down her collarbone and toward the swell of her chest. You paused for a moment, letting your tongue flick gently over the sensitive skin there, before capturing one of her nipples between your lips. Lia let out a low, trembling moan, her nails digging into your back as you lavished attention on her. You alternated between gentle kisses and firmer, more deliberate nips, her body responding to each one with a sharp intake of breath or a soft cry.
Your free hand roamed over her body, sliding along the curve of her waist and the dip of her hips. You teased her other breast with your fingertips, rolling and brushing against her skin in time with the rhythm of your lips. Her body writhed beneath you, her hips lifting instinctively as if to draw you closer, the heat between you growing with every touch.
From her chest, your lips traveled downward, leaving a trail of warmth across her stomach. Lia’s breathing grew heavier, her hands tangling in your hair as you moved lower, savoring the way her body reacted to every press of your lips, every flick of your tongue. Her quiet whimpers and soft moans filled the room, a soundtrack to the intimacy building between you.
You moved back up, your mouth returning to the curve of her neck, brushing kisses along her jawline before finding her lips again. The kiss was deep and consuming, her hands pulling you closer as though she couldn’t get enough of you. Her legs tightened around your waist once more, her body pressing into yours as the rhythm between you grew more urgent, more deliberate.
Her reactions—each shiver, each soft cry, each whispered plea—fueled you, blurring the line between physical connection and something deeper. You knew every spot that made her tremble, every touch that left her gasping, and you used them all, the intimacy between you growing with each passing moment. It wasn’t just her body you craved—it was her trust, her surrender, the way she opened herself to you completely, leaving you breathless and wanting more.
Her voice broke through your focus, her breathless words trembling as she gasped, “You feel so good… Don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” you murmured, your voice hoarse and strained, barely able to contain the emotions coursing through you. Her flushed cheeks, the vulnerability in her gaze, the way her body clung to yours—it all struck you in a way you hadn’t prepared for.
The tension between you built steadily, every motion pulling you both closer to a precipice. Her moans grew louder, breaking into desperate cries as her body moved in sync with yours. Her hips met you with an urgency that matched your own, and her hands tightened their grip on your shoulders, her nails dragging against your skin.
“I’m so close,” she whimpered, her voice trembling and raw in a way that sent shivers through you. Her head tilted back, her body arching beautifully beneath you as she clung to you like you were her lifeline. “I—oh my god, I’m cumming… I love it, don’t stop, please.”
The words hit you harder than you expected, the raw need in her voice breaking through every wall you’d built around your feelings. Her climax overtook her in a wave, her body trembling violently as she cried out, her voice unguarded and desperate. The sight of her face, twisted in pure ecstasy, sent a jolt through you. Her name fell from her lips like a prayer, her body shuddering as she reached the peak, clutching at you with a force that left no doubt of the depth of her release.
And then, it hit you—seeing her like this, so open, so completely undone, you realized something you couldn’t ignore. You wanted to be the only one to give her this feeling. The thought struck like lightning, leaving you trembling even as your own release loomed. It wasn’t just about the act—it was about her, about how much you wanted to hold onto this moment, this connection, this vulnerability that was uniquely hers.
Your climax followed, surging through you in powerful, unrelenting waves as you buried your face in her neck. A guttural groan escaped you, your body trembling with the intensity of it. The warmth of your release pooled into the condom, each pulse carrying with it the weight of everything you’d been holding back. The sensations were overwhelming, magnified by the realization that this wasn’t casual for you anymore. Maybe it never had been.
Even as the waves subsided, you stayed close, holding her tightly against you. Her fingers traced lazy, soothing patterns along your back, her touch grounding you as your heart pounded against hers. Her breaths were soft, mingling with your own in the quiet aftermath. The intimacy of the moment was almost too much, yet you didn’t want it to end.
Finally, you pulled back slightly, your heart still racing as you pressed a kiss to her damp forehead. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips curved into a faint, tired smile, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you filled with unspoken emotions that neither of you seemed ready to name.
You leaned back carefully, slipping out of her with a quiet groan as her body shuddered at the loss of closeness. Reaching down, you removed the condom, tying it off as you moved to the side of the bed. Lia’s gaze followed you, her cheeks still rosy from the exertion, and when her eyes landed on what you held, her lips quirked into a teasing smile.
“Wow,” she said, her voice still breathy but laced with playful amusement. “You’ve been… pent up, huh?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, the tension between you easing slightly at her tone. “Yeah, maybe a little,” you admitted, your voice still low and rough from the intensity of the moment.
She laughed, a soft, light sound that made your chest tighten again, her fingers brushing over your arm as if to reassure you. “I’ll take it as a compliment,” she said, her smile widening slightly as she leaned back against the pillow, her gaze softening.
In that moment, as you looked at her—flushed, vulnerable, yet teasing—you couldn’t ignore the shift that had happened. Whatever boundaries had existed between you before were gone, and the weight of that realization lingered, pressing gently against your heart.
You stood, disposing of the condom in the bathroom, your mind still reeling from everything that had just unfolded. The intensity of the moment lingered, but it wasn’t just the physical closeness that consumed you—it was the emotions swelling in your chest, threatening to spill over. You tried to push the thoughts aside as you cleaned up, focusing on the simple motions as a way to steady yourself.
When you returned to the bed, Lia was already nestled under the blankets, her cheeks still faintly flushed, her hair spilling over the pillow in soft waves. She looked up at you, her eyes warm and inviting, and without a word, she lifted the blanket in a silent invitation. It was a gesture you’d grown accustomed to—a familiar rhythm that had followed these nights together. But this time, something about it felt heavier, weighted with an unspoken shift between you.
You climbed into bed beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. She moved closer almost instinctively, her body curling into yours, her head resting against your chest as her arm draped across your stomach. The warmth of her, the way she fit so perfectly against you, was both comforting and terrifying.
Her breathing began to slow, her body relaxing as if this was the most natural thing in the world. And it was—for her. For you, though, the usual ease wasn’t there. You lay stiffly, staring up at the ceiling as a moment of dread washed over you.
You’ve broken the rules.
It hit you with the weight of a confession you’d been avoiding for weeks, maybe months. You’d convinced yourself this was fine, that you could keep things casual, that it was just a way to connect without getting too close. But tonight had shattered that illusion. You weren’t just drawn to Lia—you’d fallen for her.
Your chest tightened as the realization settled in. The way she laughed, the way she trusted you enough to let her guard down, the way she made you feel seen in a way no one else ever had—it wasn’t just something you could brush aside anymore. It was real, and it was terrifying.
You glanced down at her, your heart aching as you took in the soft curve of her lips, the peaceful expression on her face. She looked so at ease, so content, and you couldn’t bring yourself to disturb that. But the weight of your feelings pressed heavily against your chest, threatening to suffocate you.
Lia shifted slightly, her arm tightening around you as if sensing your tension. “You’re quiet,” she murmured, her voice drowsy but laced with curiosity. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper as you forced yourself to relax beneath her touch. “I’m fine.”
But you weren’t fine. Because as much as you wanted to stay in this moment—her warmth, her closeness—you knew that everything had changed. You’d crossed a line you couldn’t uncross, and now you weren’t sure what to do.
-----
The weeks that followed were an emotional minefield. Every stolen glance, every shared laugh, every moment Lia curled up beside you after an intense night—all of it dug deeper into the growing pit in your chest. It wasn’t just about intimacy anymore; it was everything. The way she smiled at you, her guard let down for just a moment. The way she playfully mocked your quirks, grounding you with the ease of someone who knew you better than anyone. You craved her in ways that went beyond physical. You wanted all of her—her bad days, her hopes, her fears, and everything in between.
But you couldn’t say it.
The rules had always been clear: no emotions, no strings, no complications. Lia had built walls around herself, walls you understood were necessary given her chaotic life. Your arrangement was her sanctuary, an escape from the pressures of her career, her fame, and the unrelenting expectations placed on her shoulders. You told yourself that being her safe space was enough. It had to be.
That night had started like many others, but it carried a weight you couldn’t ignore. As the moment reached its peak, Lia shifted downward, her lips trailing across your skin with a deliberate slowness that sent shivers coursing through you. When her mouth finally enveloped you, a deep groan escaped your lips, your hand instinctively tangling in her hair.
Her movements were teasing but purposeful, each flick of her tongue measured to drive you closer to the edge. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, glinting with mischief yet laced with something softer, something deeper. “You’ve been so stiff lately,” she murmured, her breath warm against you before continuing, her voice low and sultry as her tongue worked with maddening precision.
The intimacy overwhelmed you, her familiarity with your body leaving you utterly undone. She knew exactly how to unravel you, to find the places that made you tremble, the rhythm that pushed you to your breaking point. When your release finally overtook you, it was overwhelming, waves of pleasure crashing through you with an intensity that left you trembling. Your fingers tightened briefly in her hair as a hoarse gasp escaped you, the heat of the moment leaving you breathless.
Lia pulled back gently, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She moved back up to lie beside you, her body fitting against yours with an ease that should have felt comforting. But this time, it didn’t. This time, it felt different.
She settled against you, her head resting on your chest, her breathing steady and calm. Her hair tickled your skin, her warmth both soothing and torturous as a quiet dread began to build in your chest. It wasn’t just physical anymore—this was heavier, filled with emotions you couldn’t keep bottled up.
Before you could stop yourself, the words rose in your throat. “Jisu,” you began softly, her name catching in your throat.
She hummed in response, her eyes still closed, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Hmm?”
“Do you ever think…” You hesitated, the words feeling too heavy, too dangerous. But they pushed forward anyway, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you ever think this could be something more?”
Her eyes opened slowly, the smile fading as her expression shifted into something unreadable. She propped herself up on one elbow, her hair falling in soft waves around her face, the sheets slipping slightly off her shoulder. Her gaze met yours, searching and cautious, and the seconds stretched into an eternity.
“Why are you asking?” she asked softly, her tone carrying a mix of curiosity and caution.
Your heart raced, panic rising in your chest as you scrambled for a response. “I was just thinking,” you lied, the words tumbling out too quickly. “It’s nothing. I don’t know, just… a thought.”
Her expression didn’t change, her gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer before she sat up fully. Wrapping the blanket around herself like a shield, her voice was calm but resolute as she said, “Hmm, no, I don’t think so. The reason this works is because it’s casual. If we start complicating things, it’ll ruin everything.”
Her words hit like a punch to the gut, sharp and cutting in their finality. You nodded slowly, forcing a smile you didn’t feel. “Oh… yeah… You’re right. Forget I said anything.”
She smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She lay back down, resting her head on your chest again as if nothing had happened. Her breathing evened out, her warmth against you a cruel comfort. But for you, everything had changed.
The words you’d been holding back, the feelings you’d buried, wouldn’t stay quiet anymore. They clawed at you, louder with every passing day, until the very thought of continuing like this felt unbearable. You had broken the rules, and the weight of that truth suffocated you in ways you hadn’t thought possible.
-----
Over time you tried convinced yourself to accept her boundaries, telling yourself that being with Lia on her terms was better than not having her at all. But that fragile resolve cracked wide open the day you saw the article.
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the kind of day meant for doing nothing. Sunlight spilled through your apartment windows, painting the floor in golden streaks as you scrolled absently through your phone. Outside, the faint hum of the city mixed with the rhythmic ticking of the clock, a peaceful backdrop to your aimless thoughts.
Then your phone buzzed, pulling you from the haze of routine. Without thinking, you tapped the notification.
The headline hit like a physical blow: "ITZY’s Lia Spotted on a Romantic Date with beloved Idol."
Your stomach tightened instantly, a sharp ache blooming in your chest as you scrolled through the accompanying photos. Each swipe felt like tearing open a wound. There she was, walking arm-in-arm with another idol. The soft rustling of the park’s trees in the background, the dappled sunlight falling on their faces—it all looked so serene, so effortless. Their casual clothes hinted at an attempt to keep things discreet, but the atmosphere around them screamed intimacy.
And then one photo stopped you cold.
Her head tilted slightly, her hair catching the sunlight like a halo. Her eyes—soft and filled with a warmth that felt painfully familiar—were fixed on him. She was smiling, bright and genuine, the corners of her lips curving in a way that was devastatingly effortless. That smile was reserved for someone special. Someone who wasn’t you.
Your chest ached, a dull yet unrelenting pain spreading through you as you stared at the screen. The world around you seemed to fade, the sunlight that had once felt comforting now harsh and uninviting. The faint hum of the city became muffled, replaced by the deafening rush of your own thoughts.
Has she ever looked at you like that? Has she ever smiled at you in that way, with that kind of quiet adoration? A part of you knew the answer, even if you didn’t want to admit it. The answer cut deeper than anything she’d ever said or done.
The seconds stretched into minutes as you stared at the image, the knot in your stomach tightening with each passing moment. You could almost hear her laugh in your head, see the way she looked at you during your private moments together. But it wasn’t the same. It had never been the same.
The sharp buzz of another notification snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. Lia’s name flashed across the screen, her message simple: “Are you free?”
The words sat at the top of your screen, directly above the article. The juxtaposition was cruel, a perfect encapsulation of everything that had been tearing you apart. Your thumb hovered over the notification, your mind swirling with a chaotic mix of emotions—anger, hurt, jealousy, longing. Every rational part of you screamed not to reply. To protect yourself. To draw a line before it was too late.
But as always, your heart betrayed you.
The faint sound of your breathing filled the room, shallow and uneven as you tapped her message. You opened the chat, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed the only thing you knew how to say to her.
"Yeah, I’ll be there."
The moment you hit send, the weight in your chest seemed to shift, but it didn’t lift. Instead, it settled deeper, anchoring itself to the realization you were too afraid to face: no matter how much it hurt, you couldn’t walk away. Not from her. Not yet.
-----
Lia greeted you at her apartment door with the same casual ease as always, dressed in a loose sweatshirt that hung just off one shoulder and shorts that left little to the imagination. Her hair was tied back loosely, and the faint scent of her lavender body lotion hung in the air as she stepped aside to let you in. She smiled, warm and familiar, but to you, it felt like a knife twisting in your chest.
“Hey,” she said softly, leaning casually against the doorframe. Her tone carried a cheerfulness that felt almost jarring compared to the turmoil swirling inside you. “Rough day?”
You swallowed hard, your thoughts tangled with the image of the article’s photos. The memory of her walking arm-in-arm with someone else clung to you like a shadow, an ache that wouldn’t loosen its grip. “Yeah,” you said finally, your voice flat. “Something like that.”
Her brows knitted slightly, a flicker of concern crossing her face before she masked it with another smile, softer this time. “Come in,” she said gently, stepping aside. “Let me fix you some tea or something.”
You followed her inside, the familiar warmth of her cozy apartment stirring something deep and painful within you. The dim lighting, the scent of jasmine mingling with lavender, the soft hum of a playlist you knew by heart—it should have felt comforting, but tonight it only made the ache worse. To her, everything seemed normal, unchanged. But to you, every gesture, every laugh, felt magnified, a sharp contrast to the images still burned into your mind.
She led you to the couch, her steps light and unbothered, her usual ease a stark reminder of how differently you were experiencing this moment. She sat close to you, her knee brushing against yours as she turned to face you fully. “You seem tense,” she said softly, her voice lowering into something soothing. Her hand rested lightly on yours, her touch simple yet disarming, as if she could sense the weight pressing down on you. “Let me help.”
You hesitated, the memory of her smile in those photos flashing through your mind. The warmth she had shown to someone else, the intimacy of it, felt like a stark contrast to the Lia sitting here with you now. Part of you wanted to pull back, to say something, to ask her what that meant, but the words wouldn’t come. Her touch, her presence—it was too much to resist, and before you could think better of it, her lips were on yours.
The kiss was familiar, practiced, but this time, it felt different. Your movements were slower, less certain. A part of you wanted to push her away, to demand answers, but the other part—the part of you that craved her touch, her presence—won. You kissed her back, the frustration and longing coiling tightly in your chest, fueling your every move.
Her hands slid beneath your shirt, tugging at it with the ease of someone who knew you too well. Your resolve crumbled under her touch, the confrontation slipping further from your mind. It could wait, you told yourself. For now, you let the emotions swirling within you—frustration, jealousy, and something darker—take over.
By the time you reached the bedroom, something inside you had shifted. The weight of your suppressed emotions guided your actions, a storm of unspoken feelings driving every touch, every motion. You turned her toward the bed, your hand firm on her shoulder as you eased her down to her knees.
Without a word, you unbuttoned your pants, the sound of the zipper cutting through the quiet room like a spark igniting the air. Lia’s eyes followed the motion, her gaze flicking downward before snapping back up to meet yours. Her lips parted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before melting into something softer, almost eager. When you pressed yourself to her lips, her hesitation was brief. Her hands found their place on your thighs, steadying herself as she took you in.
The shift in her was immediate. This wasn’t like before—this wasn’t the usual playful or restrained dynamic between you. You gripped her hair firmly, the silky strands slipping through your fingers as you guided her movements. Lia’s soft, muffled moan against you sent a shiver down your spine, the vibration electrifying. The control you felt, the way she surrendered so willingly, was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but give in to the moment fully.
Your hips began to move, your thrusts deliberate but rough, each one pushing deeper as you set the rhythm. Lia’s hands tightened their grip on your thighs, her fingers curling slightly as her body swayed to match your motions. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and her breathing grew heavier between moments when you gave her just enough time to adjust. She looked up at you, her wide, watery eyes filled with surprise and a growing hunger. This wasn’t what she’d expected, but the way her body responded told you everything—this was what she wanted, what she craved.
Her moans grew louder, though muffled, as her lips and tongue worked in perfect sync with your movements. Her usual confidence had melted away, leaving behind a raw vulnerability that only fueled you further. This side of you—assertive, unrelenting—was something she hadn’t expected, and the way she gave herself over to it was driving you wild.
You tightened your grip on her hair, guiding her more firmly as her hands clutched at your thighs for balance. Her breathing was heavy, her moans blending with the wet, rhythmic sounds that filled the room. Tears began to streak her cheeks as her throat constricted around you, her body tensing slightly as she fought to keep up. Still, her eyes never left yours, wide and watery but filled with trust and unmistakable arousal.
Her muffled cries grew needier as your rhythm intensified, her nails digging into your thighs as her body trembled. The tension coiled tighter and tighter in your core, every sound she made pushing you closer to the edge. When her moan vibrated against you again, it sent you spiraling, your hips moving faster, rougher, with a desperation you couldn’t suppress.
You felt yourself reaching the breaking point, your control slipping entirely. Lia’s breathing hitched, her hands shifting to grip you tighter as you thrust one last time. Your release hit like a flood, overwhelming and unstoppable. A guttural groan tore from your throat as you came, the heat surging through you in waves. Lia’s body instinctively tensed beneath you. Her throat worked desperately, swallowing each hot pulse as it filled her mouth. Her gag reflex kicked in more than once, her soft, choked sounds blending with the wet, rhythmic movements that echoed in the room. Despite her efforts, some of it spilled from the corners of her lips, trickling down her chin in thin, glistening streams. Her hands gripped your thighs tighter, her nails pressing into your skin as she did her best to keep up, her flushed cheeks stained with tears and exertion.
Her breathing was uneven, her body trembling with the effort to take everything you gave her. When you finally pulled back, a string of fluid connected you briefly before breaking, her tongue darting out to clean her lips as she gasped for air. Lia’s eyes lifted to meet yours, glassy and dazed, her expression a mix of exhaustion, surprise, and something playful.
She wiped at her chin with the back of her hand, her lips curving into a faint, teasing smile. “Fuck that was hot,” she murmured hoarsely, her voice laced with mischief despite her breathlessness. “What's gotten into you?”
You didn’t respond, the fire in your chest still burning too hot for words. Instead, you leaned down slightly and tapped your member against her cheek a couple of times, the wet sound punctuating the charged silence. Lia blinked up at you, her flushed face lighting up with surprise, a soft gasp escaping her lips.
Without a word, you reached down, your hands finding hers as you pulled her to her feet in one smooth motion. She let out a soft, surprised laugh, stumbling slightly against your chest. Her body was still trembling, her knees unsteady from the intensity of what had just happened. She clung to you for balance, her breath brushing against your neck as she steadied herself.
Before she could add anything else, your hands moved to her sweatshirt, gripping the fabric at the hem. Her laughter faded into a small, knowing smile as she raised her arms without hesitation, letting you strip it off her in one smooth motion. The air between you felt charged, electric, as the garment fell to the floor.
Her shorts followed quickly, her own fingers fumbling with the waistband as though eager to match your urgency. The two of you moved in tandem, discarding every barrier until she stood before you, bare and breathtaking in the dim light. The soft glow illuminated every curve, every flushed detail of her skin, making her look impossibly beautiful.
You climbed onto the bed, hovering over Lia as she lay beneath you, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her body still trembling from the intensity of earlier. Without a word, you captured her lips in a bruising kiss, pouring all the frustration, anger, and sadness you’d been bottling up into the connection. Her soft moan was muffled against your mouth as she melted into you, her hands reaching up to grip your shoulders.
You didn’t stop there. Your lips trailed away from hers, moving down the curve of her jaw to her neck, where you nipped at her skin with sharp, deliberate bites. Lia gasped and squirmed beneath you, her body reacting instinctively to each sting of your teeth, her fingers clutching at you for balance. The sound of her soft whimpers drove you on, each one fueling the storm raging inside you.
Your hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as you moved lower, leaving a trail of heated kisses down to her collarbone. You didn’t hesitate to bite there too, hard enough to make her arch her back, her body pressing closer to you as though craving the sting. Her breaths grew quicker, her chest heaving as she writhed beneath your relentless attention.
Her squirming only pushed you further, your need to control, to channel the storm within you, manifesting in the way you held her down. One hand moved to her neck, wrapping around her throat in a firm, deliberate grip. Lia’s reaction was immediate—her body froze for a second, her breath catching, before her eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours. There was no fear in her gaze, only surprise and raw, unfiltered desire.
You didn’t pause, letting your other hand slide down her body, brushing over her stomach before reaching her folds. The heat and slickness there were undeniable, and it made you tighten your grip on her neck as your fingers teased her entrance. Lia gasped, her body jerking at the touch, her hands clutching at the sheets for balance as her hips instinctively pressed toward you.
You didn’t slow down, slipping two fingers inside her in one swift, deliberate motion. Her reaction was instant—a choked moan escaping her lips as her body arched against your hand, her thighs trembling uncontrollably. You tightened your grip on her neck, holding her firmly in place as you set a rough, relentless rhythm, each thrust of your fingers matching the intensity of your emotions.
Her breaths came in short, desperate gasps, her body completely at your mercy. You didn’t let up, your fingers curling inside her, hitting all the right spots as her moans grew louder. The way she reacted—the way her body writhed and her voice broke with every movement—pushed you further into the haze of emotion driving your every move.
Lia’s hands gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles white as she clawed at the fabric, her head tilting back as her lips parted in a silent plea. Her hips began to shift, trying instinctively to pull away from the overwhelming sensations, but you didn’t give her the chance. Each time her body tried to escape, you followed her movement with ruthless precision, maintaining the relentless pace that left her gasping and trembling beneath you.
“Please,” she choked out, her voice cracking as her hips jerked sharply against your hand, torn between chasing the pleasure and trying to find relief from the intensity. Her thighs quivered as the wet, obscene sounds from her folds filled the room, mixing with her soft, desperate whimpers.
Your fingers thrust with relentless precision, plunging deeply while curling just enough to make Lia cry out with every motion. Her gasps turned into desperate, broken cries, the sound spilling from her lips in sharp, uneven bursts. The way her body tightened and arched against your hand drove you further, your thumb brushing over her clit—first in slow, deliberate circles, then pressing firmly and flicking sharply as her hips jolted against you.
The hand around her neck tightened slightly, your fingers pressing just enough to make her breath catch. The mix of pressure and roughness sent her spiraling, her voice breaking into a low, guttural moan as her eyes fluttered open briefly, wide and glassy, before rolling shut again. Her legs trembled uncontrollably, her entire body trembling as your thumb quickened its pace, alternating between firm, relentless circles and sharp, deliberate flicks that made her hips buck wildly.
Her thighs tried to clamp shut around your hand, her body instinctively attempting to shield itself from the overwhelming sensations, but you didn’t stop. Your pace only grew faster, harder, as though chasing something deeper. Her moans turned into broken cries, her hips jerking helplessly against your hand as you pushed her closer and closer to the edge.
The slick heat from her folds coated your fingers as her walls tightened around you, her body reacting to every motion. Her breath hitched, her cries becoming louder, more desperate. Her hips jerked erratically, trying to escape your relentless pace, but you didn’t let up. The grip on her neck tightened again, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her eyes snapped open for a moment, unfocused and dazed.
“God—” she managed to choke out, her voice breaking as her body convulsed. “I—can’t—”
Her body tensed beneath your touch, her breathing erratic as she teetered on the edge of release. Just as the moment was about to break, you pulled your fingers out abruptly and delivered a sharp smack to her folds. The sudden sting and shock sent a jolt through her entire body, her back arching violently off the bed as a strangled moan tore from her throat.
That was it. Lia shattered beneath you, her climax crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her thighs clamped around your hand, trapping you there as her cries turned raw and broken, each sound carrying the intensity of her release. Her body convulsed, trembling violently as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her. Her hands clutched at the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as her hips jerked uncontrollably, seeking and shying away from the overwhelming sensations.
You held her firmly, your grip on her neck steady, grounding her as your hand returned to her folds. Your fingers worked with deliberate precision, prolonging her climax as her cries grew louder, more desperate. Her hips bucked wildly against your hand, her body writhing beneath you as she gave in completely to the pleasure overtaking her.
Her release seemed endless, the intensity of it leaving her gasping for breath as her body quaked under your control. The room was filled with the sound of her broken moans and the rhythmic slap of your palm against her oversensitive lips. Each touch seemed to reignite the flames, drawing out her pleasure until her body collapsed back against the bed, trembling and spent.
As the aftershocks coursed through her, her breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her skin glistened in the dim light, her face flushed and damp as she tried to catch her breath.
You loosened your grip on her neck, your fingers brushing lightly against her skin as you leaned over her. Lia’s eyes fluttered open slowly, glassy and unfocused, her lips parting in a faint, breathless smile. Her body continued to tremble slightly, the lingering sensations leaving her utterly undone beneath you.
You guided Lia’s trembling, sensitive body onto the bed with deliberate intent, her flushed skin glistening as she struggled to catch her breath. Her wide, dazed eyes met yours, still hazy from the intensity of her previous climax, but you weren’t done—not yet. Slowly, you lay down and pulled her back against you, arranging her pliant body with steady hands.
Her back pressed firmly to your chest, her legs spread wide and bent at the knees, her thighs trembling as you slipped your hands beneath them. Your grip steadied her, your fingers curling securely around the back of her thighs, holding her legs in place and spreading her open. The position left her entirely vulnerable, every inch of her body on display. Her arms rested near her sides, loosely pinned between your bodies, emphasizing her complete surrender to you.
Her head tilted back against your shoulder, her neck fully exposed, giving you an unobstructed view of her flushed cheeks, parted lips, and the faint sheen of sweat that glistened on her skin. Lia let out a soft, breathless gasp as the new position registered, her body tensing briefly before relaxing into your hold.
The vulnerability of it, the way your grip anchored her while she was spread open, only seemed to heighten her arousal. “Where did you learn this?…” she murmured, her voice trailing off into a whimper as she felt you press against her entrance. The sensation made her hips shift instinctively, her body eager and trembling as she surrendered completely to the moment.
Without hesitation, you entered her in one deep, deliberate motion. The pace was fast and unrelenting from the start, your thrusts deep and purposeful as you held her firmly in place. Lia cried out, her voice breaking into a desperate moan as her body responded immediately. The position allowed you to reach depths you hadn’t before, and her body clenched tightly around you, the new sensation overwhelming her.
Her head tilted back against your shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut as she gave herself over to you completely. The sheer submissiveness of her posture, her willingness to let you take control, drove you on. You leaned down, your lips brushing the curve of her neck as you pressed open-mouthed kisses along her flushed skin, your teeth grazing lightly before biting down just enough to make her gasp.
Lia let out a trembling gasp as your hand found her clit again, circling it with a firm intensity that made her entire body jolt against you. Her thighs quivered uncontrollably, her hips writhing in an attempt to escape the relentless stimulation. “Wait—” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she tried to shift away from your touch. “I’m sensitive—too much…”
Her words barely registered, muffled by the storm in your mind. The frustration and anger churned like a relentless tide, the image of her smiling, her hand entwined with someone else’s, replaying in your head like a haunting refrain. It consumed you, fueling the roughness in every movement.
You tightened your hold, your hands locking her helplessly in place. Her legs trembled, trying to close against the overstimulation, but the position left her completely vulnerable. With her legs spread wide and pinned by her own weight, she had no leverage, no way to resist as you drove her higher. Her body squirmed, her hips shifting desperately, but your arm around her wrists and your thighs holding hers apart ensured she couldn’t escape.
You leaned in, pressing your lips to the back of her neck where you could reach, the soft curve of her skin damp with sweat. The kiss was possessive, claiming, and when you bit down, she let out a sharp cry, her body arching against yours. The sting of your teeth sent a fresh wave of shivers through her, her voice breaking into a soft whimper as you soothed the bite with another heated kiss.
Lia’s body trembled, her reactions raw and desperate. Each time you bit down, harder now, her cries grew louder, her head tilting back to expose more of her neck as though surrendering completely. Her thighs tried to press together again, but the position made it impossible, leaving her entirely at your mercy.
Her pleas melted into choked moans when your hand left her clit briefly, only to return with a sharp slap. The sound echoed in the room, followed by her broken cry as her body jolted against you. The sting sent her closer to the edge, her breath hitching in ragged gasps as her hips jerked involuntarily.
The relentless combination—the deep, fast thrusts, the circling of your fingers on her clit, and the sharp bites you pressed to her shoulder and neck—pushed her further into a haze of overwhelming sensation. Her cries grew louder, her body trembling violently as she fought against the intensity. Even as her hips shifted and tried to twist away, her body betrayed her with every shiver of arousal, her movements weak and yielding to your pace.
Just as her body tensed in anticipation of release, you pressed harder against her clit, your fingers moving in swift, relentless circles. Lia gasped, her walls clenching tightly around you as her entire body strained, her climax teetering on the brink.
When you sensed she was at her limit, you delivered a sharp, deliberate slap to her clit. Lia screamed, her voice raw and broken as her body convulsed violently. The sharp sting mingled with the overwhelming pleasure, the combination tearing through her with a force that left her trembling uncontrollably. Her thighs twitched against your hands, her chest heaving as she sobbed softly, her cries a mix of pleasure and surrender.
You didn’t stop, your fingers continuing to flick and slap her nub while your thrusts maintained their relentless pace. Her body collapsed further against yours, her legs trembling as the overstimulation sent her spiraling beyond her limits. Another broken scream tore from her throat before her body finally gave out, her muscles going slack as she slumped back onto you, her head falling onto your shoulder.
Her breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, her body trembling as aftershocks coursed through her. You released her wrists, your hands smoothing over her legs as you pressed soft kisses to her temple and along the marks your teeth had left on her shoulder. Her breathing gradually steadied, her skin still flushed and damp as she tried to catch her breath.
Your pace didn’t falter, even as Lia slumped further against you, her body trembling and utterly spent. The overstimulation of her climax had left her broken in the best way, her cries now soft whimpers, her breath hot and uneven against your neck. Her legs remained pinned, trembling as your relentless thrusts sent aftershocks rippling through her. Each deep motion made her body react instinctively, her hips twitching as though trying to pull away, but the position left her helpless, completely at your mercy.
As the intensity built, her breaths grew sharper, her head tilting back against your shoulder. The haze of her earlier release lingered in her glassy eyes, her thoughts slow and unfocused. Yet, as your thrusts grew faster and more erratic, realization flickered faintly in her expression. She gasped softly, her thighs twitching against your hold.
“Wait…” she murmured, her voice trembling and breathless, her mind catching up to what her body already knew. “Don’t… don’t cum inside me,” she pleaded, her tone cracking under the weight of her exhaustion and arousal.
Her words were faint, almost drowned out by the rhythmic sound of your hips meeting hers. Her protest lacked strength, her body betraying her as her warmth clenched tightly around you, pulling you deeper with every motion. Even as she tried to speak again, her words dissolved into soft, broken whimpers, her thighs trembling violently as her overstimulated body refused to resist what was coming.
You could feel the tension coiling tighter, the edge drawing closer with every thrust. Her whispered plea echoed faintly in your mind, but the overwhelming heat, the way she writhed beneath you, the way her body pulled you in, made it impossible to stop. The last thread of your restraint snapped as her walls tightened around you one final time.
“Fuck…” you murmured hoarsely, your voice trembling with the urgency of your release. Her body stiffened briefly, her lips parting in a faint gasp of realization, but she couldn’t move, her legs pinned wide and her body limp in your hold.
With a guttural groan, you pressed as deep as you could, your release surging into her in powerful, shuddering waves. Lia’s breath hitched sharply, her fingers weakly clutching at your arms as she felt the warmth spreading inside her. “Oh my God…” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her head fell forward, her body twitching in response to the unfamiliar sensation. The flush on her cheeks deepened, a mix of disbelief and something unspoken as she lay trembling against you.
When the last tremors subsided, you loosened your grip slightly, your hands smoothing over her legs as they remained draped across your hips. Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of your mingled breathing, heavy with the weight of what had just happened.
Lia’s voice came out as a whisper, trembling with exhaustion but edged with frustration. “Too much… it was too much…” Her body twitched beneath you, her trembling legs sprawled limply against your hips. Her chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, her gaze hazy but laced with something sharper as she tried to steady herself.
Then her eyes locked onto yours, and the flush on her cheeks deepened, no longer just from exertion. “I can’t believe you came inside me,” she muttered, her voice low but biting. “You know we can’t do that.”
Her words cut through the heavy air, and for a moment, her expression hardened as she tried to assert control over the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you. But the tension in her brows faltered as her body gave a faint, involuntary shudder, the lingering sensation of everything pooling inside her impossible to ignore.
She shifted slightly in your hold, her thighs twitching, her skin hypersensitive and her mind torn between anger and something much more confusing. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say more, to reprimand you further, but no words came. Instead, she turned her head to the side, her expression tight, though not entirely resolute.
Inside, you could tell she was battling herself. The heat spreading across her neck and cheeks, the way her legs trembled against yours, betrayed a truth she didn’t want to face. Even though she was angry—she had every reason to be—the intensity of what had happened, the rawness of being completely at your mercy, lingered in ways she couldn’t deny.
Lia let out a sharp exhale, her body relaxing slightly against you as her anger seemed to ebb, replaced by a reluctant acceptance. Her head fell back onto the pillow, her breathing still uneven, her lips pressing together in a faint line. The silence between you was heavy, her internal conflict palpable, as the reality of the moment settled over both of you.
Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, the air between you was filled with something unspoken, a tenderness that lingered even as exhaustion pulled at you both.
“Jisu,” you said suddenly, the word breaking the silence like a crack of thunder.
She turned onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you. “Hmm?”
“Can this ever be more?” The question came out unsteady, raw with emotion, as though it had torn its way out of you.
Her smile faded, replaced by something gentler but distant. She sighed softly, the blanket slipping slightly as she shifted to sit up. “We’ve talked about this,” she said, her tone careful but firm. “The reason this works is because it’s casual. It’s… uncomplicated. That’s why it’s good.”
You turned your head to look at her, searching her expression for something—anything—that might suggest she felt the same way you did. But all you saw was a calm resolve. “You’re great,” she continued, her voice quieter now. “You really are. But if we start complicating things, it’ll ruin what we have, could you imagine even trying to do this while one of us has feelings.”
Her words struck you like a punch, each one cutting deeper than the last. You forced a small, hollow smile, nodding as if you understood. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “You’re right…”
Lia’s hand brushed over your arm lightly, reassuringly, before she lay back down beside you, curling into your side as though nothing had happened. But something had. For you, the illusion that this could be enough had shattered, and no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself otherwise, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the beginning of the end.
As Lia slept peacefully beside you, you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. You couldn’t keep doing this—not when your feelings for her only grew stronger with each passing day, and not when she had made it clear she would never see you the way you saw her.
You slipped out of her bed quietly, careful not to wake her. The city lights outside her window cast long shadows across the room as you let out a soft apology,dressed and left. You told yourself that it would be the last time, that you couldn’t go back—not for her, not for anyone. You needed to find someone who would value you, who would want you the way you wanted them.
-----
The next morning, Lia woke up alone, sunlight filtering softly through her curtains as the warmth of the day began to creep into the room. She stirred slowly, her body aching in unfamiliar ways—her neck, her thighs, her core—all reminders of the intensity of the night before. She shifted slightly, wincing at the tenderness, and as the memories flooded back, her cheeks flushed with heat. The rawness of how you had been with her, the way you had consumed her so completely, lingered in her mind, each thought sending a fresh wave of warmth coursing through her.
Reaching for her phone, she hesitated for a moment, her fingers hovering over the screen. After a deep breath, she typed a quick message: “Last night was amazing. Thank you.”
She hit send, expecting the usual quick reply. You were always good at responding, rarely making her wait more than a few minutes. It was one of the constants she had come to rely on—your availability, your attentiveness. But as the minutes stretched into hours, her screen remaining frustratingly blank, she shrugged it off. You’re probably just busy, she told herself, though a faint unease began to creep into her thoughts, like a whisper she couldn’t ignore.
Life moved forward, as it always did, her schedule swallowing her days whole. But the unease grew, a quiet nagging in the back of her mind that wouldn’t go away. Still no reply. No follow-up. No late-night texts asking about her day or teasing her about something silly. It was unlike you, and with every passing day, it became harder to shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Desperate for distraction, she agreed to another date with the idol, convincing herself it was the right thing to do. But from the moment they sat down at the trendy café, everything about the evening felt wrong. The vibrant chatter of the other patrons blurred into background noise, his words barely registering as she stared down at her phone, her thumb hovering over the unanswered message. It sat there, unopened, like a stark reminder of your absence.
He tried to make conversation, asking about her work and cracking lighthearted jokes, but her responses were flat, distracted. Her mind kept drifting—back to you. She could almost hear your laugh, picture the way you would have teased her about spending too much time scrolling on her phone. She thought about the little things you did, the gestures that had woven themselves into her daily life: bringing her food after late practices, the way you always seemed to know when she needed comforting, and the talks that stretched into the early hours of the morning when her world felt too heavy.
Her chest tightened as she realized it wasn’t just about the sex anymore—though that had been incredible. It was everything else, the way you had quietly become her anchor without her noticing. She missed you, in ways that went beyond physical, in ways she couldn’t ignore.
As the date dragged on, her unease grew heavier. She looked at him across the table, saw the effort he was putting into keeping her attention, and felt the guilt creep in. He wasn’t the problem. He was polite, charming even, but he wasn’t you. He didn’t make her feel grounded the way you did. He didn’t know her tells, didn’t know how to navigate her quiet moods or the way her smiles didn’t always reach her eyes.
She excused herself earlier than planned, her heart heavy as she walked out into the cool night air. Her fingers hovered over her phone again, the thought of calling you overwhelming her. But as she stared at your name in her contacts, she couldn’t bring herself to press it. Not yet.
Days turned into a week, and Lia’s desperation grew. Every thought of you tightened the ache in her chest, the longing building until it was impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just about the intimacy anymore—it was everything else. The little moments, the times you made her feel understood, cared for, seen. The absence of those moments was suffocating.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside her was shifting. Something she hadn’t wanted to see before but now couldn’t deny. You weren’t just her escape, her comfort—you had become something so much more. Finally, she turned to someone she trusted: Yeji.
The three of you had always been close, bonded not just by your ages but by a shared sense of humor and camaraderie. After practice one evening, Lia found Yeji in the lounge, scrolling through her phone. Her heart pounded as she sat down across from her, working up the courage to speak.
“Yeji,” Lia began, her voice quieter than usual as she fidgeted with the edge of her hoodie.
Yeji glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What’s up?”
Lia hesitated, her usual confidence replaced by uncertainty. “You know about… my arrangement, right?”
Yeji set her phone down, her gaze sharpening slightly. “Oh, yeah,” she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. “I know about it.”
Lia’s fingers twisted the fabric of her hoodie, her nerves fraying. “Have you… talked to him lately? Do you know where he is?”
Yeji’s expression softened, the teasing fading as she leaned back against the couch. “Yeah, we’ve talked,” she admitted, her voice even. “But I don’t think I should tell you more than that.”
The words hit Lia harder than she expected. Her stomach twisted, and her voice dropped. “Why not?” she asked, almost pleading. “I just… I miss him. I didn’t think I would, but I do. I didn’t realize how much he meant to me until he wasn’t there anymore.”
Yeji sighed, studying her closely. “Lia, you have to ask yourself why he’s not here right now,” she said, her voice steady but not unkind. “You had to know how he felt—maybe you didn’t want to admit it, but it was obvious.”
Lia looked down, her throat tightening as Yeji’s words sank in. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” she murmured. “I just… I didn’t know.”
Yeji leaned forward slightly, her voice softer now. “I think he needed space, Lia. He couldn’t keep pretending to be okay with what you two had. And now? I think you’re realizing how much he really means to you.”
Lia’s fingers curled tightly around her hoodie, her heart sinking further. “I miss him,” she said quietly. “Not just… what we had. I miss everything. I don’t know what to do.”
Yeji shook her head gently. “I’m not going to tell you where he is—it wouldn’t be fair. But if you feel this way, you need to figure it out before it’s too late.”
Lia nodded slowly, Yeji’s words settling heavily in her chest. For the next few days, she replayed every moment in her mind—every late-night talk, every thoughtful gesture, every quiet look that made her feel safe. The realization of how much she missed you, how deeply she cared, grew sharper with each passing day.
Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. Lia grabbed her phone with trembling hands and called. The first call went to voicemail, then the next, and the one after that. Still, she didn’t stop. Each unanswered ring only heightened her desperation. She began texting, her messages growing shorter and more frantic with each passing hour.
“I need to talk to you.”“Please, can you call me back?”“Just… say something.”
When the texts went unanswered, she left voicemails, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “I… I really want to talk. Please, can we meet? Just let me know.” Every message sounded more raw than the last, the silence on the other end of the line gnawing at her chest like an open wound.
She lost count of how many times she called—her phone logs a mess of missed attempts, her inbox filled with drafts of unsent messages she couldn’t bring herself to delete. Each night, she lay awake, staring at her phone, willing it to light up with your name. The waiting was unbearable, each moment stretching endlessly as hope began to waver.
Just when she was on the verge of giving up, her phone buzzed. Her heart skipped a beat, and she scrambled to pick it up. It was you. A simple message: “Okay. Let’s meet.”
Relief and apprehension washed over her in equal measure. She stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure how to respond. After a long pause, she simply typed, “Thank you.”
-----
When you finally met, the air was heavy with tension, every unspoken word between you settling like a weight in the small café. Lia sat across from you, her usual poise stripped away. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, twisting the edge of her sleeve, her eyes fixed on the untouched coffee in front of her. The faintest hint of color rose in her cheeks, betraying the vulnerability she was trying to hide.
You watched her carefully, your own nerves coiling tighter with every second of silence. Her lips parted slightly, as though she wanted to speak, but the words didn’t come right away. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked up at you.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling but steady enough to hold your gaze. “For everything. For not seeing how you felt, for taking you for granted.”
Her words caught you off guard, the raw honesty cutting through the tension. You blinked, unsure how to respond at first. “I should be the one apologizing,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter than you intended. “For ghosting you, for catching feelings in the first place. I—”
“Don’t,” Lia interrupted gently, her voice firm but laced with regret. Her eyes finally met yours, and the warmth there made your chest ache. “Don’t apologize for liking me. Please. I need to say something first.”
You froze, her words silencing the flood of guilt that had been building inside you. She fidgeted with her sleeve, her gaze flickering downward for a moment before she looked back at you, her expression unguarded.
“I like you,” she said softly, the words landing with a weight that made your breath catch. “So much. I think I have for a while, but I didn’t know… or maybe I just didn’t let myself realize it. I got so comfortable with you always being there, and when you were gone, it felt like a piece of me was missing.”
Her cheeks flushed deeper, and her hands stilled as she continued, her voice trembling but resolute. “I thought keeping things casual was easier—safer—because I didn’t want to risk losing you. But I was selfish. I didn’t think about what you needed or how much it might be hurting you.
Her voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t stop. “I’m so sorry for everything. For not being considerate of your feelings, for pushing you away when you tried to tell me how you felt. You deserved more than that—more than I gave you—and it kills me that I hurt you because I was too scared to be honest.”
Her words tumbled out in a rush, raw and vulnerable. She took another breath, her eyes glistening as she looked at you, waiting. “Do you still…” she began, her voice quieter now, hesitant. “Do you still like me? Because if you do… I promise I’ll be better. I’ll try harder. I won’t take you for granted again.”
The question hung in the air, heavy and trembling with sincerity. You stared at her, the tight ache in your chest threatening to spill over. The vulnerability in her eyes, the way her fingers nervously twisted at her sleeve, the unsteady rise and fall of her breath—it was Lia, stripped of all pretense, offering herself to you in a way she never had before.
“I miss you,” you said, your voice thick with emotion, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “More than I can even say. And yes, Lia, I still like you. I don’t think I ever stopped.”
Her lips parted slightly, her eyes widening as relief and hope washed over her face. A small, trembling smile broke through her uncertainty, and she reached across the table, her hand brushing yours. You didn’t hesitate, your fingers curling around hers as the tension between you seemed to dissolve, replaced by a quiet, tentative warmth.
For a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you heavy but no longer with tension—this time, it was full of possibility. Lia’s fingers tightened slightly around yours, her gaze searching your face as though she was committing this moment to memory. Then, softly, she asked, “Can I… kiss you?”
Her voice was quiet, almost shy, a stark contrast to the confident Lia you had always known. You felt your breath hitch, the question catching you off guard even though you knew the answer. You nodded, unable to form words, and her lips twitched into a faint, nervous smile.
When she leaned forward, the world around you seemed to still. The noise of the café, the clinking of dishes, the hum of conversations—it all faded as her face came closer, her hand still firmly in yours. The first brush of her lips against yours was tentative, testing, but the moment they met, something shifted.
This kiss wasn’t like the others. You’d kissed Lia before—passionate, heated, messy kisses in the haze of your arrangement. But this? This was entirely different. This kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t fueled by lust or need. It was soft, deliberate, full of emotion you hadn’t allowed yourself to name before. It felt like kissing her for the first time, like discovering something new, something sacred.
Her lips were warm and inviting, moving against yours with a tenderness that sent shivers through you. There was no urgency, no pretense, just the quiet connection between you as the kiss deepened, your free hand instinctively reaching up to cradle her cheek. She leaned into your touch, her fingers threading lightly through your hair as she let out a soft sigh, her body relaxing into the moment.
For Lia, the kiss was no less transformative. She’d kissed you countless times before, but this—this felt like peeling away every wall she’d built, every mask she’d worn. This was the kiss she hadn’t let herself imagine, the kiss she hadn’t realized she needed until now. It wasn’t just the physical connection—it was the way your hand trembled slightly as you cupped her cheek, the way you held her like she was the most important thing in the world.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as your eyes met. Her lips were parted, her cheeks flushed, her gaze full of something you couldn’t quite describe but felt deep in your chest. You could see it reflected back at you: this wasn’t just a kiss. This was everything.
“That…” Lia murmured softly, her voice trailing off as she searched for the right words, her fingers brushing against your jaw. “That felt… different.”
“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice low and raw with emotion. “It did.”
Neither of you moved to pull away, the space between you too fragile, too precious to break. For the first time, it felt like you were both on the same page, and the weight of everything that had come before fell away, leaving only the warmth of this moment.
The silence stretched again, but this time it felt less heavy, more open—like the air between you had shifted, lighter somehow. You cleared your throat, your fingers drumming lightly against the edge of the table as you searched for the right words, your heartbeat quickening with each passing second. “So, um…” you began, awkwardness thick in your voice as your eyes darted away from hers. “If you’re free later… I mean, after this—if you want, we could, I don’t know, grab dinner or something?”
Lia tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile that widened just enough to let you know she understood exactly what you were trying to say. Her cheeks flushed faintly, the color rising against her soft complexion. “Are you asking me out?” she teased lightly, her tone warm, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.
You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as you tried to play it cool. “Maybe. I mean… yeah, I guess I am.”
Her smile softened into something more genuine, more tender. “I’d like that,” she said quietly, her voice carrying just the right hint of sincerity to make your chest feel lighter. “I haven’t eaten yet.”
The relief that washed over you was palpable, and without a second thought, you stood, holding out your hand. Lia’s gaze flicked down to your outstretched fingers, hesitation flickering for only a moment before she reached out and took your hand, her fingers curling around yours in a gesture that felt at once familiar and entirely new. Her touch sent a warmth through you, steadying your nerves as the tension between you eased further.
As you walked out of the café together, her hand warm in yours, the world around you seemed to blur into insignificance. The usual noise of the city streets—honking cars, chatter from passersby—faded into the background as the two of you fell into an easy rhythm. Lia’s steps matched yours, her shoulder occasionally brushing against your arm, and every now and then, you glanced at her. Her soft smile, illuminated by the golden glow of the streetlights, carried a quiet promise that made your heart ache in the best way.
You gave her hand a gentle squeeze, testing the waters, and she looked up at you, her eyes bright with a mixture of shyness and excitement. The small action spoke louder than words, her slight squeeze in return confirming what you both already knew: this wasn’t just two friends reconnecting. This was something new, something fragile yet full of possibility.
By the time you reached the restaurant, the hesitation you’d felt earlier had all but melted away. The hum of the city was a distant backdrop as you opened the door for her, gesturing for her to enter first. She smiled, murmuring a quiet “thank you” as she stepped inside, her gaze lingering on yours for just a beat longer than necessary.
Inside, the warm, inviting glow of the restaurant felt like an extension of the moment you were sharing. As you sat down, the conversation flowed more easily, the earlier tension giving way to lighthearted laughter and comfortable silences that spoke of a connection neither of you could deny. And as you watched her, her smile radiant and her eyes sparkling across the table, you knew without a doubt: this wasn’t just a return to what you had before. This was the beginning of something real.
#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#kpop smut#girl group smut#reader insert#male reader#kinkvember#kinkvember 2024#itzy smut#itzy#itzy lia#choi jisu#lia smut#choi jisu smut#itzy lia smut#lia x reader
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DETAILS ABOUT OCS !
send an emoji/description of emoji to learn more about a writer's oc! many of these are taken from my munday asks meme, because i thought it would be fun to make a version for characters too! the prompts are categorized by emoji type and given descriptions in case anyone can't see the symbols. can be used for roleplayers and any general writers alike! for roleplayers, these can also be used for your interpretations of canon characters if you so desire as well!
𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒. 💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — what is your oc's MBTI, enneagram, and/or other personality aspects (if known/interested in)? 🚗 CAR — does your oc have a driver's license? can they drive/operate any automobiles/machinery besides cars? ✈️ AIRPLANE — does your oc like traveling, or do they consider themselves a more homey person? 🎮 VIDEO GAME CONTROLLER — what are three of your oc's favorite hobbies? 💍 RING — does your oc have any piercings? do they want any (more) piercings? 🖊️ BALLPOINT PEN — does your oc have any tattoos? do they want any (more) tattoos? 📚 BOOKS — what level of education has your oc most recently completed/is currently in (GED, undergraduate, grad school, phd, etc)? 🎻 VIOLIN — does your oc play any instruments? what is their skill level (beginner/intermediate/advanced/virtuoso/etc)? 🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities? 🩸 DROP OF BLOOD — what is your oc's blood type?
𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐒. 🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what type of music does your oc like? do they listen to music very often? 💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL — share three random facts about your oc that others may not know. 💤 SLEEPING SIGN — is your oc a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper? how are their sleeping habits? 🔱 TRIDENT EMBLEM — can your oc swim? do they enjoy swimming? 🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons? 🔶 LARGE ORANGE DIAMOND — does your oc know cpr? do they have any other medical expertise? 🚫 PROHIBITED — does your oc drink/smoke? do they do it regularly, or is it more on occasion or for special events?
𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄. 🌈 RAINBOW — what is your oc's sexual orientation/gender identity? what pronouns do they use? 🎄 CHRISTMAS TREE — what is your oc's favorite holiday? 🐶 DOG FACE — does your oc have any pets? 🐈 CAT — does your oc prefer a wide circle of friends or a few close friends? 🐷 PIG FACE — what is your oc's favorite animal? 🐉 DRAGON — what is your oc's favorite mythical creature? 🍃 LEAVES FLUTTERING IN WIND — what is/was your oc's favorite subject in school? 🌴 PALM TREE — does your oc have a green thumb? do they enjoy gardening? 🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒. ❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits? 🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits? 💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits? 💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them? 🧡 ORANGE HEART — does your oc tend to prioritize family or friends? 💛 YELLOW HEART — how many languages does your oc speak? what language(s) are they learning, if any? 💚 GREEN HEART — does your oc prefer being inside or outside? 💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world? 💜 PURPLE HEART — what is your oc's ancestry/genetic background? 🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before? have they broken someone's heart and/or broken someone's trust?
𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒. 🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE — when is your oc's birthday? how old are they? what are their sun, moon, & rising signs (if known)? what about their tarot card, ruling planet, & ruling number (if known)? do they fit the typical traits of these sun, moon, & rising signs? 🍝 SPAGHETTI — what is/are your oc's favorite food(s)? 🍰 SHORTCAKE — what is/are your oc's favorite sweet(s)/dessert(s)? 🍦 SOFT ICE CREAM — what is/are your oc's favorite ice cream flavor(s)? 🍔 HAMBURGER — is your oc good at cooking? are they good at baking? which one do they prefer? 🥯 BAGEL — what does your oc's typical breakfast look like? do they usually eat breakfast? 🥪 SANDWICH — what does your oc's typical lunch look like? do they usually eat lunch? 🍛 CURRY AND RICE — what does your oc's typical dinner look like? do they usually eat dinner? 🍸 COCKTAIL GLASS — what is your oc's favorite alcoholic drink, if they can drink? ☕️ HOT BEVERAGE — does your oc prefer coffee, tea, hot chocolate, milk, water, or some other drink? how do they like to take this drink (ex. coffee with milk, hot chocolate with whipped cream, a specific kind of tea, etc)?
𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄. 😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life? 😖 CONFOUNDED FACE — is your oc an introvert, an extrovert, or an ambivert? do they let people in easily, or are they more reserved? 🤔 THINKING FACE — what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms? 🧐 FACE WITH MONOCLE — is your oc more logical or emotional? 🤓 SMILING FACE WITH GLASSES — is your oc chatty or quiet? are they at ease in social situations, or are they more shy? 🤩 FACE WITH STARRY EYES — is your oc a planner, or are they more spontaneous in their actions? 😥 SAD BUT RELIEVED FACE — is your oc prone to getting stressed out, or is it easy for them to keep their cool? 😓 DOWNCAST FACE WITH SWEAT — is your oc open-minded or stubborn? are they inquisitive or do they prefer to keep to their bubble of knowledge? 😞 DISAPPOINTED FACE — does your oc attract others, or do they tend to be left alone? 🤒 FACE WITH THERMOMETER — does your oc get sick easily? 👨👩👧👦 FAMILY WITH MOTHER, FATHER, SON AND DAUGHTER — how many people are in your oc's immediate family? how many people are in your oc's extended family? do they have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, etc? who in their family are they closest with? are they close with their birth family, or do they have a found family?
#oc asks#oc ask meme#oc ask game#oc meme#ask meme#ask memes#ooc#symbols#memes#mine#200#500#1k#2k#3k#4k#5k#10k
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Danny as a Historical Badass
So, I'm sure you have all heard at least one story about those Badasses in History, the ones who are basically Legends at this point, right?
Like Simo Hayha, the White Death. The legendary Finish Sniper who managed to get 505 Confirmed Kills in less than 100 days, and an additional 200 kills with a Sub Machine Gun.
Or Mad Jack Churchill, the Craziest Commando. The guy who went to War with a Bow and a Broadsword, inflicting the last Archery Fatality in British Military History. He and his single partner also managed to raid a Village and capture 44 unsuspecting Soliders.
I want Danny to be seen in history in the same way they were.
If we go with the AU where the events of the Show happened in the Early 1900's, Danny would reach Eligibility just in time for both World Wars.
I want one of the Batfamily Members to run across a Video online of "Roman Helmet Guy" on Tiktok talking about Danny with that Badass Music in the Background.
Like, Danny is known as the Insane Solider of WW1/WW2. The guy who somehow managed to capture entire Platoons singlehandedly. The Guy who raided Enemy Camps in the Dead of night and managed to capture High Ranking Commanders on his own. The Guy that survives life threatening wounds like it's nothing MULTIPLE TIMES, and is somwhow back on the battlefield within the hour.
Some people speculate that he was an early Metahuman, but nobody can confirm because he hasn't been seen in decades. Some people.think he must be dead by now.
And then the Batfam member does a double take because, That's Old Man Danny.
Thats the old guy who runs their favorite Cafe. He must be well over 100 years old by now, but he looks like he's in his early 70's.
And doesn't Alfred frequent that Cafe?
Yes, he does. Alfred and Danny are old War Buddies.
Idk where this is going, I feel braindead right now.
I just wanted Danny to be seen as a Historical Legend because I was binging 'Roman Helmet Guy's videos and thought of this.
Wait, wasn't Diana in WW1? Like, in the movie at least she fought in WW1, so what if she met Danny during that time? What if she wasn't the only one to rush into No-Mans Land during that action scene in the Movie?
Diana shows up in Gotham and just says, "Oh no need to worry, I'm just visiting an old Friend."
Also, I recommend watching videos on Simo Hayha, he is such a badass.
#Dp x dc#Dpxdc#Dc x dp#Dcxdp#Danny Phantom#Dc#Dcu#Ww1#History Legends#Danny and Alfred are old War Buddies.#Danny and Diana are old War Buddies too#Danny runs a Coffee Shop#Danny ages Slower than a normal person#At least he does later in life#He can probably control his own age right?#I mean he does have shape-shifting powers right?#Idk#It's not even that late but I feel like it's 4 am
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SCENE︰EMO ID PACK
NAMES︰ acid. adder. adrian. aisling. alex. alice. alix. amethyst. annabelle. aqua. ash. ashlee. ashley. aspen. astley. avril. awe. axe. ayesha. bates. bell. bella. belladonna. bellatrix. billy. blade. blair. blitz. bloodie. bloodscene. blythe. bow. bree. butterfly. callie. candi. candy. celeste. chase. checkerz. clarity. click. coraline. couture. crow. cyril. cyrus. dakota. demi. demonia. devin. dino. dizzy. doge. dom. dominic. ebony. electra. elliot. emery. emmett. emo. epic. erin. evan. flash. fred. galaxy. gavin. gerard. ghostie. gif. gloom. gray. grayson. grim. gutz. happy. havoc. hazel. heyley. hunter. hyde. indigo. ink. iris. ivory. ivy. jack. jade. jason. jasper. jax. jeff. jet. jett. julie. kai kandi. kandiz. kat. kayden. killer. kit. kitt. kobi. kyler. lady. lapis. lee. lexie. liam. luna. lurk. lynx. lyric. lyxzen. mace. maddox. madeline. mae. malice. marceline. marcie. mars. mavis. meow. mia. midnight. mika. mill. nana. neo. net. nick. nina. noah. noob. nora. nyan. nyx. obscene. octavia. olivia. onix. onyx. opal. orange. orchid. pearl. phantom. phoenix. pierce, pierce. pitch. pixie. pop. punk. pusheen. rain. rainbow. raine. rainer. rave. raven. raver. rawr. razorz. reaper. ripley. river. rogue. ronnie. rose. rouge. roux. rubi. ruby ruby. sable. salem. sally. sapphire. sash. sasha. scythe. silvi. silvia. smiley. smoke. smokey. snap. snow. sonya. soot. sparrow. spike. splatter. spook. stella. steve. stripe. sunny. suzi. suzie. suzy. taffi. taffy. tag. tech. tempest. travis. trend. tyler. vesper. vine. vista. vivi. waffle. wave. web. wentz. wesley. wild. willow. wound. xander. z!m. zach. zack. zade. zaire. zak. zander. zara. zero. ziggy. zim. zircon. zoe. zoom. zyair.
PRONOUNS︰ awesome/awesome. ay/aym. bark/bark. bi/bim. bite/bite. black/black. bling/blingee. blood/blood. bone/bone. bow/bow. brace/bracelet. bright/bright. bright/colour. byte/byte. cat/cat. cata/catatonic. ce/cer. check/checkered. chem/chem. cir/circut. color/color. computer/computer. cool/cool. cos/cos. creepy/pasta. cringe/cringe. cry/cry. cut/cut. dead/dead. death/death. die/die. dino/dino. emo/emo. emoticon/emoticon. epic/epic. ev/ev. exe/exe. ey/em. eye/strain. fang/fang. fringe/fringe. game/game. gamer/gamer. ghost/ghost. gir/gir. girr/girr. glit/glitter. glitter/glitter. gloom/gloom. glow/glow. glow/stick. gore/gore. grr/grr. gun/gun. gut/gut. hor/horror. hx/hxm. hyper/hyper. hyperpop/hyperpop. internet/internet. it/it. ix/ix. kan/kandi. kand/kandi. kandi/kandi. kill/kill. kit/kit. knife/knife. lix/lix. loud/loud. luv/luv. mask/mask. meme/meme. meow/meow. mew/mew. mlp/mlp. mon/monster. mspaint/mspaint. music/music. neo/neon. neon/neon. net/net. nostalgia/nostalgia. nya/nya. nya/nyan. nyan/cat. old/old. online/online. pika/pikachu. pix/pix. pixel/pixel. plur/plur. pony/pony. pop/pop. pop/tart. queen/queen. quiet/quiet. rain/rain. rainbow/rainbow. random/random. rave/rave. rawr/rawr. raz/razor. red/red. rei/reina. scene/scene. scene/scenester. scenecore/scenecore. scream/scream. shx/hxr. si/silent. silly/silly. skull/skull. slash/slash. slice/slice. sound/sound. spi/spider. spook/spook. stab/stab. stick/sticker. sticker/sticker. stud/stud. swag/swags/swagself. thxy/thxm. troll/troll. tutu/tutu. txt/txt. vamp/vamp. video/game. virtual/virtual. vocaloid/vocaloid. web/web. windows/window. xe/xem. xey/xem. xy/xyr. youtube/youtube. ze/zem. ze/zer. ze/zero. zi/zim. zim/zim. zom/zombie. zomb/zomb.
#pupsmail︰id packs#id pack#npt#name suggestions#name ideas#name list#pronoun suggestions#pronoun ideas#pronoun list#neopronouns#nounself#emojiself#scenecore#scene#emo#emocore#y2k#y2kcore
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Hiii! So... I would like to request a :
Jenna Ortega x Female Reader, story.
R is a talented musician whose world shatters when her partner Jenna Ortega abruptly leaves without explanation, just as R was on the brink of stardom. R's heartache fuels her music, but the pain of abandonment consumes her. Years later, they cross paths by chance, reopening old wounds. R must confront her unresolved feelings and decide whether to forgive or seek closure, knowing that the melody of their love may never be whole again.
It's totally okay if you don't want to write about this!💙
-🐻
𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑼𝑳 𝑴𝑬𝑳𝑶𝑫𝒀
Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem! Reader
Tags: little angst, italic are flashbacks, death, Reader is popular singer
Word count: 4k
A/N: Thanks 🐻 for request! Sorry if you didn´t imagine it like this but really hope you will enjoy :) Happy reading <3 sorry for mistakes
Glory, money, success. Being on top of the world at such a young age. What else could you dream of? Doing whatever you want, having possibilities that are almost endless. Endless.
What is endless? Something that never end. So forever? Why would someone want to live for so long if they have nobody to share it with.
Flashing lights from cameras and lound screams of people pushing themselves closer trying to get best look. White perfect smiles of celebrities that already accepter their fate. Things like this brought Y/N flashbacks, begining of endless life.
Christmas was Y/N´s favourite holiday. Since she was a child she loved doing snowmans and building igloos, hot chocolate that warmed her small hands. She loved making Christmas tree and putting colorful decorations around house.
„Oh look! Who´s this big present may be?“ Her mom pointed out at the big gift lying under the Christmas tree. Y/N stood up and ran with big expectation on her face. Small hands were trying to make their way to the thing that was hiding under the paper. The small girl gasped.
On that Christmas her mom got her first guitar. Y/N smiled a little at that memory. She used to annoy everyone about it. Singing loudest on a car rides and karaokes with her family and friends. She grabbed her neckle softly that was hanging around her neck as she looked up at the dark sky.
Growing up Y/N used to put videos on YouTube of her playing some instrument, most of the time guitar or piano. When she was comfortable enough she sang a little but not much. She was doing this for couple of years, once in a while post some video. Y/N wasn´t really popular, she had small fanbase of her family and friends, some people that found her work and supported her. Nothing big.
„Y/N?!“ Her mom could be heard from downstairs. „You got something in box!“
The girl´s face turned confused and she slowly stood up from the bed. She made her way down the stairs and saw white envelope with her name on it.
„That´s for me?“ She was much confused right now. The only post she has got by far was from school and even that was sometimes on her mother´s name. And this definitely didn´t look like from school. „Strange...“
Her fingers slowly cut the envelope open and unfold the paper that was there.
„Oh my God...“
Her life took radical change after that. Y/N always says that small things could change your life big. It was all about small details that made your life.
It turned out that someone from a big music company found her and was interested in her talent. She couldn´t believe it, it was like a dream. The imagine of her doing something she loved for the rest of the life sounded perfect in her mind.
She was cut off by opening the car doors and her body moved to autopilot. Her steps brought her to the edge of red carpet and that moment everything got louder.
„Y/N!“
„Y/N look here!“
She was looking around her, posing for the cameras as the people around her were yelling for her attention. She started walking to the front of the big entarance to the building.
Y/N as a musician with big influence was invited to the award show. It was such a shock to all the people that the singer showed up here. She wasn’t much of a person to go to the public shows like this. To her it wasn´t needed. It was rare to see her somewhere in public besides on her concerts. Y/N liked to put everything together in her private life. She liked to keep herself low, reminding that being a known person is a double-edged sword. Just like was her love for the girl.
Y/N remember how she met her for the first time. They were still teens and saw each other on some premiere of a movie which they were invited on. Even blind person could feel the instant spark between them. After that there wasn´t day they wouldn´t contact each other.
They grew closer and closer as the days went by, after texting couple of weeks non-stop they agreed to go out to grab some food. They slowly became best friends that soon turned into more.
She used to support you in every way, always saying how talented you are, how she´s proud of you. You were supporting her too, being her biggest fan behind closer doors. Your relationship wasn´t known to public. People saw you a couple of times out together but nobody had proves that you were actually together.
It was sunday evening, Y/N´s fingers played soft melody as they brushed through the strings of her guitar. She were sitting on a couch in a living room. The burning fireplace was adding to the cozy mood. Her girlfriend was laying beside her, watching her carefully with her big brown eyes, enjoying the beautuful melody.
When the song ended Y/N looked up at her, as if she was waiting for her approval. „What do you think?“
Jenna smiled at her, pushing herself a little closer. „It was beautiful.“
„You wanna try?“
The girl wanted to refuse but the singer´s big eyes stared right at her, as if they were praying for the word yes. She sighed with a small smile and agreed. The rest of the night was filled with laughter from both of them as she was trying to teach Jenna that song.
Jenna was her person. Even since they met each other they were always together. They knew everything about themselves and always had each other's back. Jenna´s family loved Y/N and Y/N´s family loved Jenna. Y/N´s mom would always say that they were made for each other and that Y/N needed to keep her.
Y/N was sitting by the big table in the dining room in her family house. Her mom invited her and Jenna to a sunday lunch with her whole family. It was good to see her family together like that. The girl loved spending time with her close ones.
Laughing was heard around the room as Y/N´s face was turning red from embarrassment. „Mom!“
„What?“ she laughed warmly at her child. „It was funny.“
„Well, not to me!“. She told some embarrassing story of Y/N when she was a small kid. The singer has a lots of them and she hates every single one.
„I can´t believe!“ Jenna laughed. „Do you have a photo?“ She asked as she was still trying to hold her laugh inside.
„Of course I do! I´ll show it to you right after!“
„Absolutely not!“
Despite their busy life, they were able to make it work. Jenna traveled and filmed a lot and Y/N was most of the time making new music for her or was helping someone else. But even like that, they could still make it work.
It was a couple of weeks since she started to film Wednesday. Jenna was away from country, big amount of her time filming and if she had some free time it was used for her recover. The girl was tired and Y/N knew it, she was worried about her well-being, if she got enough sleep, if she eats everyday and drinks a lot of water.
At first everything was fine, Jenna didn´t have much time because of filming but Y/N was understanding. She knew how busy the girl must be, remembering how it was while her girlfriend was filming Scream or X so right now her being main character, the actress was very much needed everywhere.
But as weeks went by it looked like the girl´s free time was much shorter. They no longer face-timed each other, from texting every morning and every night become sometimes. Y/N was still messaging Jenna, sending her texts, voice messages, photos and videos of her or things she saw, her new music or funny memes.
But she got nothing in exchange.
Was she being that much delusional that she still thought that the young actress just didn´t have much time? Yes, Y/N kept always protecting her girlfriend, saying that she was busy, tired and had more important things to do. But after not geting any text from Jenna she become a little worried, so she texted her sister.
Aliyah told her that everything was fine, she was surprised by the news Y/N told her. Jenna was texting her almost every day and sometimes even send her a photo from behind the scenes or her with her co-stars. To not no worry her sister´s girlfriend more, she didn´t tell her about that.
„Y/N you look amazing tonight! How are you?“ The interviewed asked the singer as she was approaching the main room of the building.
„Hi! Thank you so much!“ She smiled at the woman with mic in her hand. „I´m good, how about you?“
„Amazing! So Y/N, I wanted so ask if you got something prepared for tonight show!“ she smiled at the woman, laughing gently at her words.
„Well, that´s a secret! Maybe I do, maybe I don´t.“ she continued laughing. „We will see.“ Y/N was actually one of the performers tonight but she wanted to keep it to herself and people who knew already about it.
They continued to chat a little before the girl said her goodbye and continued her walk. There were a lot of celebrities which was expecting. Actors, singers, directors, DJs, Y/N thought she even saw some TikTok influencers.
As she was passing by to the table she was seated, the girl could feel the starings of others. Sure she knew she was quite known among a lot of people, the singer has a pretty big fan base. But what more shocked them was that she even show up, at least that´s what Y/N thought. Finally she found her seat and and sat there waiting for the start.
Y/N knew from a young age that not everything can be bought with. She was rised humble, to always appreciate everything. She thanked God everyday for being healthy and having everything her family needed. She had nothing more to ask for. She already had everything she wanted in life.
That morning Y/N woke up, she and Jenna agreed to have a chill day and just spend some time together. The singer was in a kitchen cooking something for a lunch while her girlfriend was taking a shower. She was drinking a water when suddnely her phone rang, thinking it was one of her sibling she didn´t even look at the contact.
„Miss Y/L/N?“
The girl frowned, confused at who it was. „Uhm... Yes?“
„I´m really sorry but we found your mom today morning. We couldn´t help her anymore.“
Y/N´s vision narrowed, her heart fell to her stomach. Those were words she didn´t want to hear, never. The loud sound of break glass was heard around the kitchen as she dropped the cup of water she was holding.
Declining the call she sobbed softly into her hands. Her back slowly leaned against the kitchen cabinet as she was now sitting by the broken glass.
„Y/N? You okay?“ Jenna was asking from the bathroom after she heard the noise. The actress became worried because she didn´t hear her girlfriend’s answer. Quickly leaving the bathroom running to the kitchen.
„Baby watch out for the glass- Y/N!“ She hurried towards her carefully as she saw the girl in a ball, holding her knees, hiding head between them as sobs were leaving her mouth, tightly holding the neckle around the neck. That neckle was given to Y/N by her mom on the girl’s birthday. „Did you hurt yourself?“.
By now she was even more concerned. Jenna leaned into her, trying to find some cut or blood but nothing.
„She´s gone Jenna.“ More sobs were coming from Y/N as she wad trying to say it to her. „My mom is gone.“
Jenna´s eyes watered. She took the girl’s head into own hands as she brought her face into her chest. Both of them were sitting there around broken glass, just like their hearts.
Y/N´s mom was everything to her, she made her daughter beautiful childhood, made her who she is today. She appreciate her not only as a mother but also as a person. The girl would do anything for her mom. The day they told Y/N´s family about her bad health condition was the worst day of her life. She tried everything, going to different hospitals, doctors, giving all her money to her mom´s treatment, despite her always saying she didn´t want to take her kid´s money, she would always pay for it. But you can´t buy everything with money.
After that day Y/N´s look on the world changed. She lost someone from her closest people, someone who was with her whole life, someone who teached her everything she knows. Someone she wouldn´t be here without.
Jenna was with Y/N everyday, always saying to her that she is now better and she won´t suffer anymore. That she is happy up there looking after her now. The girl wouldn´t know what to do if the actress wasn´t with her. She kept Y/N´s company, making sure that she won´t ever leave. That was before she went to Romania.
„Please welcome Y/N Y/L/N.“ The voice could be heard around the big theatre as everyone was greeting the singer with applause. On the screen was written her name and in the middle of the stage was a mic waiting for her. Y/N slowly approaches the mic with the guitar hanging loosely around her body. Tonight she´s going to perform with things that were most dear to her but lost them both. The guitar was the one her mom got her on Christmas, her first ever guitar. Everything got quiet and just like that Y/N started.
Soft sound of closing door was heard around your apartment. Y/N was sitting on a couch in a living room watching some show. She thought that her mind was playing tricks on her because of how much she didn´t sleep these past weeks.
But when she heard she sound of keys she knew that must be her girlfriend. Y/N jumped up from the couch and ran to the hallway. There stood Jenna with her bags around her. The singer was so happy that finally she was home. She missed her so much. At that time it was much more.
They greeted each other and hugged tightly, Y/N thought that everything will be like it used to but their life had different plans.
Jenna said that she came for a week, that they gave them free time to get some new energy. Y/N could feel that something was different about her girlfriend. She wasn´t as she was before she left. She acted more distant, more cold, she was trying to make excuse for everything like kiss or cuddles. When they talked she refused to look into her eyes.
Y/N knew they need to discuss this before she leave because then they won´t ever talk about it.
Jenna one time left her phone on the couch when she went to bathroom, Y/N wasn´t kind of person to go into her girlfriend´s phone, she trusted her with her life. But as her phone kept ringing every second with new notification she looked. It was one of her co-stars, saying how he miss her and can´t wait to hang with her again. The singer´s heart dropped to her stomach once again.
,,And the winner is… Y/N Y/L/N” the moment of silence was followed by the loud sound of yelling and clapping hands after they announced the singer’s name.
Her eyes widen at that new information, everyone was now standing smiling at her as she was now filmed on camera that was showed on big screen. Everyone laughed at her confused face as she couldn’t believe she won.
People gratulate her as she went to the stage to grab an award. The girl’s hands were shaking a little as she now stood infront of big audience of celebrities and cameras.
,,Woah uhm… it didn’t even cross my mind that I could win something like this.” She brough up the award a little holding it with both hands. ,,This means a lot to me. I’ll use it as a reminder that I’ve came this far in my life, as a reminder that I wouldn’t be here without my family, my friends and fans, you. I wanna thank my family and everyone that stayed with me and supported me.” The girl leaned a little more into the mic as her voice started shaking a little.
,,Espessally someone dear to me that I’ve lost.” She took a big breath. ,,Mom, there’s not a day that I don’t miss you. You gave me everything you had and I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I will love you forever mom.”
Even after so long she still craved for her mom. She will always be her child even when she´s no longer with her.
„Thank you.“ Y/N bowed a little and walked away accomopanied by applause.
„Jenna, please.“ Y/N was coming after her girlfriend.
„Jenna I don´t understand.“ The singer was looking at her girlfriend as she was quickly packing her clothes into the bags.
„Y/N I don´t want to talk about it.“ She said. Her body was moving fast as if she was trying to get away from you as quicky as possible. Jenna was going to Romania again, for God knows how long now. She didn´t tell you.
The taller girl breathed out as she was trying to understand her girlfriend actions. „B-But why? I thought we tell each other everything!“
Y/N confronted Jenna about her worries and how she felt like she was pushing her away. The actress of course refused to accept that, saying that everything was normal. It wasn´t, even she knew it. As the singer was trying to talk things out, Jenna went to pack her things saying she´s going to leave soon, avoiding the talk.
Jenna was now in a hallway, putting there her bags and shoes on. Y/N´s heart beat faster and faster by her actions.
„I saw your texts.“
The short girl stopped and looked up to Y/N. This felt like the first time she was looking at her since she came home. Her big brown eyes were wide and her face changed, as if she realized something.
The hurt look the singer was giving her. She can’t blame her. The way she acted this week was awful. It was her fault.
„Y/N-“ she was trying to get closer to her but the girl took a step back. „I-I promise you that doesn´t mean anything.“ Jenna´s voice was now soft, still looking at her girlfriend as she was only looking down.
„We will talk about it when I get back. I swear.“ Jenna took her bags as she was now unlocking the apartment door.
„I love you Jenna.“ Y/N said to her with broken voice „But I don´t think I can take it anymore.“.
Y/N was leaning against the balcony in the big building. After the awards show everyone were invited to the after party that was in some club. The singer didn´t feel like going to party, she just wanted to lay in her bed and watch some show but it would be rude it she just left right after.
„Hi.“
That was the voice she could hardly forget. Y/N didn´t even have to turn around to know who it was.
„Congratulation. It was clear that you would win.“. She leaned a little by her ex-girlfriend´s side, carefully not too close.
Ex-girlfriend. Jenna hated that. She hated how open she left their relationship despite Y/N´s desperate callings. She knew how Y/N miss her. Even much more after her mom passed away. The singer told her lots of times how she felt like she didn´t have anyone besides Jenna.
„I want to say I´m sorry-“
„There´s no need.“ The taller girl cut her off, she still didn´t look at her way. Jenna missed Y/N´s eyes at her.
„No! I was stupid! I left you when you were just perfect to me!“
The first month of filming in Romania was the worst. Being that far away from home and all the people she loved the most. Jenna felt alone. She knew she needed to adjust as soon as possible and it wasn´t supposed to be a problem for her, she had done this a lot of times, but now it was for such a long time and there wasn´t a way to go back from it. She kept texting Y/N everytime she had some time for herself or if she didn´t have much work at that moment.
As time went by, the months started to go by without her noticing, she enjoyed it so much more and it started to be not just about her job anymore. The girl started to go out with her now new friends and slowly started to forget about what she left behind.
She felt a little guilty everytime she saw a new message from Y/N. Jenna didn´t even know why she was doing that, the whole ignoring thing. She just knew she felt less attached because of that but her excuse was that she wanted to focus only on the job. When she finally texted her, she made sure not to read what Y/N had to say. For her own selfishness.
When she came for a week she didn´t know how to act, feeling embarrassed for her actions but instead of explaining herself and apologizing to her girlfriend, she kept going. Jenna knew she was wrong, she felt it but being already so deep in the problem she didn´t want to make it worse or better, it would take her a lot of energy.
It was eating her up for the whole week, the look Y/N was giving her, it was visible she missed her, her body showed it pretty clearly. Jenna´s heart was crawling for her but her mind told her not to, that it´s better that way, not being attached.
Finally, when she was going to film again, expecting to just leave and run again, leaving the problems behind, Y/N said those words. Just then she understood that it was hurting her much more than she thought. Y/N didn´t have anyone besides her.
At that moment Jenna just wanted to throw herself at her and never let her go. But then it would be so much harder to leave. When she came to Romania she missed her again and the words haunted her mind.
That night Jenna was just lying in her bed, reading Y/N´s messages. Every greeting, every photo, text, voice message, every I love you. The more she was scrolling the more her heart broke.
Jenna was lying in her bed every night asking for forgiveness with wet cheeks and hope in her heart that Y/N would still be there.
Finally when Jenna was coming home, her whole ride she was praying for things to work out between them. Thinking about what to tell her to make it right.
But after her hands were trying to unlock the door as quicky as possible her ears were met with silence of apartment. Jenna´s stomach dropped a little when she realized her girlfriend isn´t home. Her legs took her to their bed room and was only met with her empty closet.
She left.
Jenna remembered Y/N´s last words, how the girl cried and how she was desperate for her touch all week. Now the tables turned. There wasn´t day the actress wouldn´t regret what she did, she wanted to make it right again. But she couldn´t find her anymore.
„Y/N I regret it so much. If I could I would take it back-“
„But you can´t.“ Y/N turned finally to her. Jenna´s eyes was on her, she missed her. After all this time she still feels the same. „I was depressed and didn´t understand why you acted that way. I thought I did something wrong, that maybe that was the reason.“
Jenna shook her head at your words. Her heart aching at that imagination. „After you left I had no one. You were the only one I got and you knew that and... And you still left me.“
„Y/N please.“ Jenna said with shaking voice, her eyes glossy from tears that refused to fall. She wanted to come a little closer but she was sure the singer would take a step back. She felt just like Y/N was feeling on that day.
„And after so long? You just want to apologize? You think that it would be so easy?“ Her voice got a little higher as she was staring at Jenna with anger and betrayal in her eyes. She breathed out, closing slowly her eyes trying to calm herself down.
„You knew how hard it was for me. You knew what state I was in! And you still choose to make me feel so alone without any explanation.“
Y/N was looking at her like she was memorizing her face. „I don´t want your explaination. Not anymore.“ She took a deep breath and with a heavy heart said her last words.
„I´m sorry Jenna but... I don´t think I can.“
And like that Y/N turned around to walk from her. Jenna was big part in her life. She still appreciate her but after how things between them ended she wasn´t sure if she could forgive her that easely. Even though she still loves her.
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excerpt; best friend's dad | John Price x Reader infidelity. age gap.
He breaks your heart in Greece. Cuts a jagged line down your middle. Spills your wet, sticky blood over the Naxian marble outside of the Temple of Apollo with just a handful of words.
(fitting, you find: you've always considered your aimless pursuit to his heart some bastardised delusion akin to Icarus chasing the immovable sun—)
And you suppose it's kind. Or as gentle as a man like him could ever let himself be. Still gruff, surly. But you've always loved the sound of his voice, haven't you? That sarky growl reminding you of classic muscle cars, American-made; the low, gritty purr of an old Mustang. Enough to make you shiver, even as he's shaping it around these awful, cutting words. It makes you heart flutter, enraptured as he speaks like he's ripping a bandaid off.
Except that now that wound is being filled with salt. Acid. Cauterising itself from the friction burn when the gauze is wrenched off your skin. A permanent scar right in your sternum. A gaping hole spilling all the ugliness out. You wonder if he cares that it's being slashed across his shoes—no sandals, he griped when you teased him in the airport; I hate the feelin' of sand between my toes—that this madness inside of you is finding a home on the hot pavement, rotting under the summer's sun.
"m'thinkin' about marryin' her."
The her in question is ten years older than him. Pettily, you wonder if this is to compensate for the fact that he's nearly two decades older than you. An obscene age gap, you know. But—
It's Price.
Your best friend's dad. The man you've been in love with since you were sixteen. Falling all over yourself after a dumb boy broke your heart, and he offered to drive you home, silent the whole way there before he stopped, a block away from your house, and told you that boys weren't worth your time. Boys. Boys—
Not men.
Foolishly, you let yourself hope. Let yourself become the very thing they talk about in TikTok videos lambasting age gaps and silly little girls who let older men run them into the ground. Why would a man his age have any reason to be interested in a girl yours? Sickening. Disgusting. You're being lead stray, groomed. But you clung to it still, even as you thumbed through the comments on those videos and found pieces of yourself lying among the rubble.
You've always known what they say about girls like that. And you were just delusional enough to believe that you were different somehow.
And now—
"Gettin' older," he grouses out, and you wonder if she finds the ornery lilt to his cadence as comforting as you do. Or if it rubs her all the wrong ways. "Might be time to settle down."
Shamefully, you wish he'd say, but maybe you can convince me otherwise, climb into my lap, and eat this decision from between my teeth until all I see when I open my eyes is you.
But that's not the John Price you know. Mr Price. Single dad. Widower. Untouchable.
Mr Price who sees you for what you are—smarter than them, he'd said when you broke down in his Bronco after a softball game where everyone, your best friend included, went to an afterparty that no one invited you to.
Quiet, thoughtful, even when you spent the evening afterwards (the fight hashed out between your best friend and you; i'm so sorry and me too) thumbing through old vinyl records he kept in his basement, listening to the classics that kids your age just didn't understand, so why the fuck do you?
Weekends spent bonding over golden cinema (movies just ain't what they used to be; there's no romance anymore, it's all so—vapid; you don't talk like a kid; i've never considered myself one, do you? he didn't answer. you didn't expect him to). Listening to music older than your dad. Niche jokes and texts that read like I saw this and thought of you.
Your fault, of course, for thinking you could trick him into loving you if you played your feelings through Johnny Cash, Vashti Bunyan, Fleetwood Mac, and Smokey Robinson. An impossibility you know now.
Mr Price who knows you. Who sees through the thin skin you wear and into the heart, the core of you. Who must have known since you called him in the pouring rain to pick you up when you got too drunk to drive home. A house party in the suburbs. Waterlogged flats he told you to toss.
Said nothing at all when you apologised with your head pressed against the foggy glass. You never told him that your sorry, Mr Price was for kissing a boy and wishing it was him.
But he must have known.
open book. pages spilling out. silly little girl with your heart cupped in your palm—
So he knows. Has known. Hindsight says this is him letting you down gently before you get any ideas about forever with your diploma tucked into your chest like a shield. A trip to Greece with your best friend and her dad to celebrate the rest of your life looming over you like a thundercloud. Your eye slanting sideways, glancing yearningly back at him.
sorry, but no. look the other way—
And you think fine, fine, whatever, so long as this doesn't hurt anymore—but what comes out is, "oh."
What follows is this:
He says he's thinking about marrying her with his hands tucked tight under his arms. He tells you he wants to settle down with his chin tucked against his chest, four lines rucked across the pinch of his brow. An emphasis, perhaps, on just how serious he is.
You taste salt in your throat. Sand between your toes. The sun blisters against the thin straps of this pretty blue dress that match the melting sapphire of his burning gaze. It's heatsickness, maybe. Or just all the years of want building and building, festering and growing, until it can't climb any higher—forever reaching for god that won't spare you a glance—and—
falling down around you. wings of beeswax and bird feathers.
Solemn, he says, "it's what I should do."
(i saw this and thought of you—)
Your fingers knot into the soft cotton of his dress shirt, pulling the fabric taut between your knuckles until it peels back from the seams, curling between buttons.
You've had too much to drink. Whiskey sour. Scotch neat. Somewhere along the walk to the temple, you snatched a puff of his cigar, the nicotine blooming between your teeth. Head full of cotton too thick for you to think. To retreat.
In the morning, when he refuses to look at you, you'll blame it on the drinks. On the sun. On being young and dumb and untouchable under the Greecian sky.
Daddy issues, you can shrug. You have the diagnoses from every single TikTok psychologist embedded between your teeth. See, mine never loved me and now I'm taking it out on you—
But right now, you kiss him.
Or maybe—
Maybe he kisses you.
It's a mess in your head. Everything turned upside down, all askew because when your lips touch his, he shudders. His chest rumbles under your fingers, expanding with the sudden inhale as he breathes you in. Deep. Takes you into his lungs—all salt-slick, and sunburnt—and groans low in his throat, all want. All heat.
He should push you away. He's your best friend's father. Two decades older than you. Dating another woman who's so far removed from the person you are that she might as well be a different species. Mature. Stoic. Poised. Graceful.
The perfect antithesis to you.
Everything about this must be ringing shrill in his ears: abort, abort, do not engage. He should push you off.
And he does.
After a moment of your greedy, unpractised kisses pepper along the bristles hanging low over his lips, he makes another sound. Angry. Whitehot. His hands slip free from the damp prison of his armpits and latch tight onto you. Thick, hirsute fingers curling over your upper arms, and pushing, shoving—
Your back hits the marble pillar. The air in your lungs punched out.
But when you try to siphon more balmy air into them again, you find an obstacle in your way.
His mouth.
Searing, blistering. Slanting hungrily across yours, devouring. Intense, dizzying. Your head cracks against the wall when he shoves his thigh between the silken softness of your inner thighs, blanketed by the dress that made him swallow when he first saw you in it, eyes darkening like a storm.
(bit short, ain't it? he'd groused, and your friend slipped her hand into yours with a huff. stop being such a dad, dad—)
It slots there now like it's owed the right. Thick thigh spreading yours apart on a gasp, a groan. Corded muscle pressed taut to the seam of you that burns hot. Melted wax. Dripping against his leg. He must feel the way he liquifies you, turns you into putty. It drags a sound his chest. The misfire of an engine.
"Fuck," he breathes, all teeth. Salt. He should be saying, no, stop. go back to your hotel room, and we'll pretend this never happened, silly girl. But he pulls you closer instead, his hand looping around to cradle the back of your tender head in the cup of his palm. A small comfort as he delves his tongue between your teeth. "Makin' me lose my goddamn mind—"
The words are growled against your mouth. You taste the tobacco-smoked fury between his teeth when they sink into your lower lip. Angry, maybe, that you're making him do this. That you had to be who you are, and despite that, he kisses you like you're not.
"Price," you whine, arching into his chest when he pulls at your bottom lip still caught between his teeth. Skin tender, bruised. He ruts into you at the sound, nearly purring. You feel it then. The hard press of his thickening cock against you. Mindlessly gyrating against your hip. The turgid length proof of his desire. His want for you. All you. "Please—"
He folds himself over you. Tucks you into the bracket of his chest, his arms. His fingers are iron bars on your skin, holding you tight to him. Unwilling to let go. His hand on your crown; his fingers gripping your thigh, hiking it up his waist. It's good. Better than all of your meagre fantasies combined. You've wanted this since you knew what want was. When he wandered into the kitchen the morning after a sleepover with a towel slung loose around his hips, his hand scrubbing the damness from the wet tangle of his hair, spilling them down his neck where they disappeared into the thick bed of hair on his chest, his belly.
He paused in the doorway when he saw you sitting at the island, eyes wide and drilling holes into his chest.
"Shit," he'd cussed, gruff and mean with sleep. "Didn't think—"
But you did. Over and over again. With your face pressed against your pillow, fingers shoved into the sticky wetness leaking out of your cunt. Thinking of him. Wrong. Wrong. Terrible—
Dad bod, your friend said with a cluck of her tongue that afternoon. And you feel it under your fists as he heaves. As he eats you alive, whole. Because kissing John Price, Mr Price, is a whirlwind. A maelstrom.
He devours. He conquers. He owns.
He licks into your mouth, petting over your tongue, your teeth, until you can't remember anything else except the tobacco and whiskey tang of him. Heady. An elixir you want to sip from for the rest of your life. Damn him—
He tells you he's thinking about marrying someone else. Then whispers, ash-soft, against your chin that he can't get enough of you.
Grunts, "you need to go," as he sinks his teeth down, hard, into the throbbing skin of your pulse. Laying claim as he slowly comes to.
The coarse hair of his beard rubs your flesh raw when he buries his face into your neck. You can feel the thunder of his heart against the knob of your wrist. The heat of his skin burning through you.
"Fuck," he rumbles again, and you know this time it's for good. Ironclad. But the remorse is paperthin. "Shouldn't have done that, should have—"
"I want you," you whisper through bruised, kiss-bitten lips. "I want you so bad. I loved you since I was—"
"Don't."
The sweat beading along his hairline smears across the naked arch of your shoulder and neck when he moves; a shallow shake of his head. Muted and small. Heavy with reluctance.
The man who meets you when he pulls back is frowning with wet, red-stained lips. His eyes are hardened sapphire reinforced with unbreakable obsidian. There's no inch to move. No cracks to squeeze through.
"This—" he swallows. You hope he tastes you still. Whiskey sour. Scotch neat. The drag of his cigar, the one he coached you through, scoffing when you choked, when you cough. You hope he runs his tongue over his teeth and tastes nothing but you. "This shouldn't have happened."
You don't say anything. Can't. The words are staining his lips.
You nod, slow. Cautious. He tells you he's marrying someone else. Thinking about it. Says this shouldn't have happened—
But he holds you like he can't bring himself to let go. Fingers clutching, clenching tight around you. Possessive. Greedy, even he as he slowly unspools from around you. As he pulls away, scouring his hand down his face with a deep, ragged inhale. Rough, worn fingers digging into his jaw until the knuckles under a dense cropping of umber hair turn white, nails pinking under the strain.
"This isn't—"
You nod again. Soft and slow, but you let your tongue flicker out, chasing the smoke drying on your swollen lips. It stings. The burn makes you think of him. Of his hot, heavy hands on your skin.
His eyes drop down to follow the slip of red that teases out between your teeth, blackening as they trace the new wetness left behind. You can feel him twitch against your thigh.
Your name is a broken snarl trapped in the thick of his throat. You've never heard it like that. Never. It does something. Lights you up from the inside out. Supernova in his arms. Icarus burning, crashing down to earth—
Catch me, Apollo—
He pulls away instead. Detaches from you with a heavy groan, as if the distance that now sits between you hurts him just as much.
The silence is broken by the sound of the crowd just beyond the pillar. You can see the moment it settles over him in the flattening of his eyes, the erasure of all affection that bloomed bright in blue. The terse set to his shoulders. The distance, the space, that grows and grows and grows—
He clears his throat. Mr Price once more. Untouchable. Off-limits.
"You should go," he says, and there's not an ounce of give in the rough flatline of his voice. Fixed. Firm. "You should go back to your hotel room. Come on. I'll call you a taxi."
"And you?"
He sucks in a breath through his nose, nostrils flaring. "Don't worry about me. Just—go back to the hotel room. We can—we'll talk in the morning."
"Where'd you?" She asks when you crawl into bed, the starchy sheets rubbing against your sunbitten skin.
There is a deluge of things you want to say. Things like—
I'm sorry. I love him. I—
can't let go.
"I think I just got my heart broken," you say instead, and wonder when the tears are supposed to come. At the wedding, maybe. But right now, you just feel numb. Empty.
The bed creaks when she rolls over, facing you in the dark. "Really? Didn't know you were, you know, foolin' around with anyone."
"I wasn't. It's—" your dad. But you can't say that, can you?
There's something painfully nostalgic about loving a man you're not supposed to want. A man who cannot, should not, want you back. An unrequited love in a foreign land. Unconsummated in the summer's heart. Sticky, bittersweet heartbreak.
Or, that's what it's supposed to be.
They are not John Price, though. Your best friend's dad. And they didn't kiss you back—
But he did.
And you think it's the worst thing he could have ever done.
#in all honesty#this will pros go nowhere lmao#i have a clear idea for bfd Price and this doesn't really fit#but it was the og idea in my head and i need it to go somewhere while i restructure this story#john price x reader#BFD Price
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More Toby headcanons please?
More HCs about my boy, the man, Toby Rogers?
fuck yea.
MASTERLIST.
Content/Warnings; sexual content, blowjobs, drugs, mentions of suicide, self inflicted wounds, hanging, memory loss, death.
Buzz cuts his hair off almost every year, then smacks his head and refers to himself as a 'sack of nuts.'
Sleeps in his car more often than not. He can easily fall asleep anywhere but mostly chooses his car.
On the subject of cars, took him YEARS to feel comfortable stepping inside a car again after the accident.
Accidentally fell asleep behind the wheel once and almost crashed the car. He swerved, thankfully, but then pulled over to have a panic attack.
Does his own piercings because he can't feel pain so fuck it, why not.
Crashes parties, A LOT. Knows he shouldn't, but can't help it. A part of him doesn't even know why he does, he hates parties, loud music - but it brings him a sense of normality and usually there's drugs and blowjobs involved.
Always gets accused of wearing makeup but the bags under his eyes are just really dark.
He's actually really insecure with the gash on the side of his cheek so will attempt to hide it when he can.
Visits Lyra's grave a lot to leave flowers and to talk to her. He actually didn't even know where she was buried but managed to find her on some website called findagrave.
The first anniversary of her death broke him. She was under the ground, cold. What did they bury her in? Is she wearing her hair up or down? He never knew and it kills him inside.
That's only when he can remember.
Suffers with pretty bad memory loss, only really occurs when he fucks a mission up though and Slender needs to 'revert' him back to a obeying, good for nothing Proxy.
He has attempted on his life. A LOT.
And with CIPA, those attempts were easy for him.
He didn't feel the blade on his wrist, nor the noose around his neck.
But not even death can free him from the grips of Slender.
Has a lot of crumpled up letters shoved in his pockets, letters he wanted to give to his Mom but knew he shouldn't.
He can't even find her. Had she moved state?
Occasionally he visits his old hometown. His house was bulldozed but that tree in his backyard is still there.
The tree he climbed all the time and fell out of.
The tree he used to climb into Lyra's window whenever his Dad locked him outside in freezing temperatures.
Shamelessly watches YouTube videos and podcasts of his life and story. Crazy how many people are obsessed with him. They got a lot of the facts wrong though.
Weirdly enough, some people defend him in the comments.
The videos have pictures of Lyra not even he has seen, an old photo of his Mom back when she being rushed away from press.
And he felt awful because.. he didn't feel anything watching these videos.
Uses pleasure as a coping mechanism because for a moment he can forget.
But then post nut clarity hits him.
That's all I could think of whoops//
And yes, findagrave is a real website. Lmao.
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L.S. Dunes, AI, and how we are missing the bigger picture:
After a day of heightened emotions due to the announcement of the Old Wounds music video, this is what I can offer. I have given this response a great deal of consideration and I submit these words respectfully. I'm not hiding the ball about where I stand: I do not support AI as it exists, however I do support L.S. Dunes's use of it.
There has been debate about whether or not engaging an artist who utilizes generative imaging is worth discussing at all, or if it is symptomatic of a broader problem. Something that I have not seen any widespread discussion of is the bands much greater history with AI. The truth is that without AI, L.S. Dunes would not exist.
Do I think AI is awesome? Absolutely not.
Do I think AI is a signature part of the artistic landscape of this era and something that we should acknowledge as a reality, like it or not? Yes, I do.
Beyond that, I believe that this is exactly the kind of thing that can produce provocative and interesting art when utilized in creative ways. I believe that it this is what art should do-- it should inspire outrage, fury, laughter, discussion, and challenge the context within which it was made. This is the burden and responsibility of art. It must make us question and engage with our world.
If the art that you embrace only ever leaves you feeling comforted, then you are not consuming art, you are hanging out in an echo chamber. You might as well go to a grocery store for the ambiance.
So, is it the responsibility of a rock band to eschew a problematic tool in the creation of their work? That is not for me to say. Personally, I view misogyny, racism, classism, the proliferation of drugs, and the promotion of neoliberal politics as problematic tools for the creation of art, and all of these things have been used for decades in rock music and videos.
Am I honor-bound to condemn every artist who has ever utilized any of these things? I would be hard-pressed to find a band or musician I could support.
Is it the responsibility of artists to make morally pure, ethically unquestionable material, or is it our responsibility as an audience, to decide for ourselves what we are and are not comfortable with and to act accordingly? This appears to be the dilemma and divide of the decade, if not the generation.
In the specific case of L.S. Dunes, the question of AI is baked into the foundation of the band itself. There would be no L.S. Dunes without AI. The band was started by Tucker Rule during the quarantine, when tours were cancelled.
During this time, the Rules were supported by Tucker's wife who is the chief of staff of an AI company.* Without her support, Tucker would not have had the creative freedom to form the band. L.S. Dunes would not have written or recorded any of their music. They would not have toured. Any of the positive experiences that their fans have had would not have happened.
Is it disingenuous to accept a band that benefited directly from the profits of AI, but to publicly decry their work when they experiment with it as a means of artistic expression? I do not believe that you can have your cake and eat it, too. I feel that you must either accept the band as a whole or not, but do so honestly and by making a conscious decision.
As AI continues to encroach into spaces both public and private, creative and commercial, we will continue to find ourselves with more questions to ask and answer. These questions will have greater consequences than how we engage with a rock band, but the ultimately core of these questions will remain the same:
What matters more: how we respond to an algorithm, or how we treat our fellow human beings?
*This is not an invitation to harass the Rule family. Tucker's wife works with human beings in her role at her office. We all have to work to survive capitalism and sometimes those jobs are not ideal. She has a family. Leave her alone, for the love of all that is good in the world.
#L.S. Dunes#Old Wounds#Old Wounds music video#anthony green#frank iero#tucker rule#tim payne#travis stever
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄
"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 5.6k words
warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, “the beatles” slander (sorry?), just a lil bit of angst
summary: in which you force you and steve to have a housewarming party
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Fall 1985
“Oh no, you’re playing The Beatles at full volume... On a scale of one to ten, how worried should I be for you right now?”
Hearing Steve’s voice right then put a timestamp on how long you’d been in your current position— lying in the dark on the couch in the living room of your shared apartment, an oversized hoodie, which just so happened to be Steve’s, covering your body; even the hood was pulled over your head because you wanted to feel completely cocooned.
He finished his shift at Family Video at seven and the drive usually took no more than twenty minutes, and you’d gotten home from your last class around five. That meant you’d been sulking for over two hours. A part of you felt a bit disappointed in yourself.
Not enough to stop sulking and get up from the couch, though.
Steve flicked on the light, which made you groan and pull on the strings of the hoodie so that your eyes were covered too, and then he walked over to where the record player sat atop a low shelf that was full of books, magazines, and random trinkets including a pink piggy bank that contained stray arcade tokens rather than actual money. He turned off the record player, putting a stop to the Abbey Road vinyl that you had been playing on repeat for hours. You absolutely detested The Beatles so whenever you were in a melancholic mood, it felt only right to play their music.
“Our neighbors probably hate us now,” Steve said as he joined you on the couch, moving your legs for a moment so that he could sit down and then placing them over his lap. “If we don’t get the cookie basket from Miss Johnson for Christmas, I fully blame you.”
He expected that to get a laugh or at least a smile out of you. The mention of the sweet old woman a few doors down who had given you two a welcome basket full of freshly baked muffins when you moved in and then promised to bring you the cookies that she always made and gave to people in the building during the holidays.
You didn’t do either of those things though. Your mouth felt too stuck in a straight line to even think about smiling. Therefore, you instead disregarded everything Steve had said since he’d entered the apartment and mumbled, “Why are guys such idiots?”
He placed a hand over his heart as if he’d just been wounded. “Ouch.”
You pulled the hood off your head and then propped yourself up by your elbows to finally look at him. “Obviously, you’re the exception.” You then thought about your words for a brief moment. “Well, sometimes.”
“Double ouch,” He said. “But yes, guys are idiots. Which one are you talking about, in particular? Charlie?”
You sighed and looked away. “Sadly.”
“He’s lasted longer than I expected,” Steve told you. He fully thought that the crush you had on this guy from your early morning Statistics class wouldn’t stem past a few weeks.
“At this point, I wish I didn’t like him anymore,” You responded and then looked at Steve again, a small amused smile gracing your lips as you thought of something. “Any hot people come into Family Video lately?”
Steve simply laughed and shook his head at you.
It was almost too easy for you to develop a crush on someone. So much so that many of them you wouldn’t even mention to Steve or your other friends because of how fast they’d come and go.
Most of the time, the inevitable abrupt ending of the crushes would leave you feeling something adjacent to heartbreak because most of the guys you’d ended up liking were, in fact, idiots, or you’d feel disappointment because your feelings never lived up to how they were at the beginning of the crush. But there was always still something about the idea of liking someone that was surprisingly fun to you. You wouldn’t necessarily call yourself a hopeless romantic, but it sometimes felt as if you were exactly that.
You finally sat up from the couch and moved close to Steve. “Okay, spare me the supportive best friend ‘we’ve known each other since we were ten and I only want the best for you’ spiel for a few moments and just answer a quick question for me, okay?”
Although he was completely confused and would’ve killed for more context, Steve nodded at your current antics. “Okay.”
“If we had just finished a really hard test, and you were worried about how you did on it, and I did this,” You grabbed his hand, linking it with yours and giving him the sweetest smile that was typically only reserved for when you were hardcore flirting with someone. “While saying ‘I’m sure you did great,’ you would understand that I have a massive crush on you, right?”
He glanced down at your intertwined hands for a brief moment before ultimately nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.”
“Exactly,” You said as you dropped Steve’s hand and then slumped back against the couch. “So Charlie pulling away— no smile back or anything— and simply saying, ‘Thanks. You probably did good too,’ in response to that means either he can’t read my stupidly obvious flirting cues, or he’s not into me. And, honestly, I’m almost certain it’s the second one.” Suddenly you were hit with a fresh wave of sadness and you pulled the hood over your head once again. “Please put back on The Beatles and let me wallow in peace for the rest of the night. I promise I’ll be better by the morning.”
“I’d rather hear Harold running on his squeaky wheel all night than The Beatles on repeat,” He said and you actually perked up at the mention of the pet you two had gotten only a few months ago, barely a week after you’d fully moved into the apartment, the brown and white furry creature formally known as “Harold the Hamster.”
Currently, he was sleeping only a few feet away in his cage that sat on the coffee table. Somehow he managed to be completely unbothered by the music you’d been loudly playing.
“Okay, how about this,” Steve started. “Let’s order a pizza from that place close by. I’ll even suffer and let you put olives on it.”
You pushed the hood off your head again so that you could look at your best friend, only slightly intrigued by what he was saying. “Keep talking…”
“And then we’ll watch The Breakfast Club because you love it and you immediately rented it out from Family Video when we got it in,” He continued and you perked up even more at the mention of one of your favorite movies. “Which, by the way, is a copy that is weeks overdue and has probably racked up an insane amount of late fees at this point.”
You smiled at him. “Good thing I know someone who works there. And he would never let me pay any late fees.”
“Wow, he sounds like a great guy.”
You shrugged as you looked away from Steve. “Meh, he’s alright.”
He immediately poked your side, causing you to laugh loudly. “I’m gonna make you pay all of the late fees now.”
“That’s very evil,” You said with a shake of your head, but you were still laughing because you knew that he wasn’t being serious.
Steve ordered the pizza as you put the Breakfast Club tape in and then you both settled on the couch again. You had probably watched the movie five times since you rented it, but somehow you hadn’t grown tired of it yet. Instead, it managed to effectively take your mind off of Charlie and the entire situation with him, at least for the time being.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Steve may have been the one who worked at Family Video, but you knew that place so well it was almost as if you worked there too. His almost never-changing schedule was practically seared into your brain, and you knew the exact times the place was always busy and the moments when it was pretty much dead aside from a handful of random customers.
Somehow Fridays at noon were one of the store’s emptiest times.
Steve was standing behind the counter sorting through movies on a cart when you walked in.
“Hello,” You smiled at him. “I come bearing one not-at-all overdue copy of The Breakfast Club and very fun news.”
Steve was quick to smile back when he saw you, but it dropped when it seemed as if he remembered something. “Shouldn’t you be in your Psychology class right now?” Just like you knew his schedule like the back of your hand, he knew yours. “Your parents will find a way to blame me if you’ve dropped out of school, y’know.”
“My professor canceled last minute; her sister went into labor. So, don’t worry, you won’t be hearing any sort of lecture from my parents,” You answered as you dug in your bag for the movie.
Steve grabbed it from your outstretched hand and placed it on the cart before looking back at you. “What's your news?”
“Okay, so remember when we were ten and on that cruise, and you liked this random girl from New Jersey— Rebecca, I’m pretty sure her name was?” You said. “She was sixteen, completely unattainable, but I still tried to help you talk to her.”
That cruise was actually when you and Steve met. It was a very weird serendipitous kind of moment where your parents bumped into his at the buffet one of the first few days and found out that they not only lived in Indiana, but in a town that was two over from yours, and they even had a son that was the same age as you.
You had been somewhere sitting by the pool when this romcom-esque “meet cute” happened, but when your parents found you, they introduced you to Steve. Although at first, it felt like a friendship that was being forced upon you both, it was still nice to have someone other than your parents— actually, someone better than your parents— to hang out with on the ten-day trip.
You beat him countless times at air hockey at the arcade onboard and the two of you spent most of the nights successfully sneaking into the “club” that was only meant for kids fifteen and up— which was where his crush on Rebecca began and subsequently ended.
“Yes, I remember that, not my finest moment. But, I also don’t blame her, it probably would’ve been weirder if she wanted to flirt back to a ten-year-old,” Steve responded and then furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, I’m confused, though. Is your news that you found her or something?”
You immediately shook your head at his question. “No, what I’m gonna say actually has nothing to do with that, but I wanted to remind you of how supportive I was of you during that time, and how supportive you should be of me right now with what I’m about to say.”
“I’ll always support you,” He didn’t hesitate to tell you. “Unless you’re pitching the matching tattoos idea again. And then, in that case, I guess our decade-long friendship will have to end here.”
“One day I’ll eventually convince you to do it; mark my words. And the tattoo will be one of those stupidly cringey ones where we each get a flower with the other person’s name blooming out of it.”
Steve did nothing but groan and shake his head at you, which only made you laugh.
“But, anyway, my actual news is that we’re having a party tonight,” You said and then continued before he could say anything in response just yet. “Kind of like a housewarming party. I realized that we never really had one.”
“We did have one.”
You shook your head and let out a sound that was a cross between a scoff and a laugh. “Robin and Eddie coming over on our first night and all of us smoking weed on the fire escape and then falling asleep on our mattresses in the living room because we didn’t have any furniture yet did not count as our housewarming party.”
Steve laughed a bit. “It was very fun, though.”
“It was great,” You agreed with a nod. “But, not an actual party, so that's why we're having one tonight.”
Steve only looked at you for a moment and you knew that he was trying to read you. He was the only person that you were certain could completely see through you— he could tell what you were feeling even when it was too hard for you to put those muddled thoughts into words, and he could see right through all of the bullshit you’d spew at times. Sometimes it annoyed you, but most times it felt nice to be so completely seen and understood.
It only took a second for things to seemingly click into place for him. “Is all of this about Charlie?”
“No,” You immediately answered, but you didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.
Of course, Steve didn’t believe you at all and he didn’t have to verbally say that for you to know, the unspoken words were clear in the deadpan look he gave you.
“Okay, fine. Yes, it is,” You said and then sighed as you leaned against the counter. “I saw him today and he said that he was planning to go to this party tonight and he wasn’t that excited about it, but it’s better than doing nothing on a Friday. And then for some insane reason, I blurted out that he should come to my party tonight instead. In hindsight, I probably should’ve immediately backtracked when I said that, but I didn’t and instead, this whole “housewarming party” plan was born.”
“Is there any way I can say no to this?” Steve asked and you quickly shook your head.
“Sorry, but no. Remember what happened on the cruise. Remember how I tried to be helpful with Rebecca,” You told him as you walked around so that you were behind the counter with him. You began sifting through the cart which was full of movies that people had just returned. “And honestly, I just wanna use this party as a last-ditch effort to see if he likes me, and if not then I’ll just make out with someone else at the party to get over him. So, actually, this is a win-win situation no matter what, and this party needs to happen.”
Steve only sighed in response at first, which made you look at him again. He then was quiet for a moment before ultimately nodding and plastering on the brightest and fakest smile you’d probably ever seen from him. “Okay, fine, let’s throw the best two months late housewarming party ever.”
You smiled back at him. “Thank you.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
There were a lot of things Steve wanted to tell you.
One of the main things being how even though he hadn’t met him yet, he knew that Charlie definitely didn’t deserve you basically throwing a whole party for him just for you to see if he liked you back. Also, how actually most of the guys you ended up crushing on didn’t deserve your attention for a second.
However, he knew that he couldn’t tell you any of that. Not when you’d been there through his ups and downs when it came to dating, and not when you were always supportive; even though a lot of the time it was easy to tell that you weren’t the biggest fan of the girls he went out with.
Early on in your friendship, it was unspokenly decided that bearing through each other’s plethora of shitty relationships just came with the territory of being best friends, and whenever things inevitably went downhill you’d both just be there for each other to pick up the metaphoric pieces.
However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t internally roll his eyes when about an hour into the party he finally did meet Charlie. It was a brief interaction where you introduced them when he entered the apartment and then Steve almost immediately walked away because he knew that you wanted to be alone with Charlie. Well, as “alone” as you two could be with a party that was in full swing around you.
Your shared apartment quickly became full of at least forty people. It was a mix of people from your classes, the small handful of people from high school that you still sometimes talked to, a bunch of people that Steve knew, and anyone else that Robin and Eddie also wanted to invite. For a party thrown together at the last possible second, you both had to admit that it was a pretty solid turnout.
And also for a party that Steve hadn’t really wanted to have in the first place, he was actually having a good time. He was playing a drinking game version of Uno with Robin and a few others circled around the coffee table; Harold’s cage was placed next to him on the couch for the time being.
After a second round in a row where Robin won— she was always crazy good at the game— Steve wanted to ask you to join because he knew how much you loved the game, even though you were very bad at it. He was even tipsy enough that he would’ve been fine with Charlie joining in as well.
He looked around, trying to find you, and it was something that should’ve happened in seconds. No matter what, it was always somehow easy to spot each other in any sort of crowded room— how effortless it always was almost felt equivalent to some weird kind of party trick. However, this time, Steve couldn’t find you.
At first, he thought that that meant that things were going well with Charlie, but when he eventually spotted him standing in the kitchen talking and smiling at a girl who was definitely not you, he had a feeling that things had probably gone the opposite.
“I’m gonna sit out this round,” Steve said to Robin as he got up from the couch.
The short walk to your bedroom was more difficult than expected because maneuvering through all of the people in the apartment proved to be a battle in itself. He ignored the sign on your door that said “Keep Out!” which you put up right before the party started to discourage people from going into your room and using it as a place to make out or have sex; Steve also had a sign on his door.
When he walked in, he didn’t see you on your bed or sitting at your desk, or even lying on the floor, so he headed to the door right next to your closet that led to your bathroom.
“Hey, you in there?”
Twenty minutes ago, when you went into your bathroom, you had initially thought that you didn’t want to talk to or see anyone— you wanted to wallow alone and in silence. But, it turned out that hearing Steve’s voice right then didn’t annoy you or make you upset. Instead, it was the exact voice you wanted to hear in that moment— because, of course, Steve never counted as just anyone.
You were sitting in your empty white tub. The cool porcelain felt nice against the exposed parts of your skin that the dress you were wearing didn’t cover, and you thought that the small confines of your bathroom would be the perfect place to spend the rest of your night; a night that had gone downhill almost too fast.
“Yes,” You mumbled, but it was loud enough for Steve to hear.
“Can I come in?”
You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Yes. But, please don’t turn on the light.”
“Okay.”
You heard the door open then close and then the sound of the shower curtain being pushed to the side caught your attention and you looked up at Steve.
“What happened?” He asked. Your eyes had long adjusted to the darkness so you could make out his face fairly well and you could see the concerned look on it.
“I don’t wanna lie and say nothing, but I also don’t really wanna talk about it right now.”
“That’s okay,” He said with a small nod. “Can I sit?”
You didn’t verbally answer and instead simply pulled your knees up to make room in the tub for him. He got in, pulling his knees up as well, and for a few moments, it was quiet. You could faintly hear the sound of music coming from the living room, but you couldn’t fully make out whatever vinyl Eddie decided to play on the record player.
“Someone gave us a plant,” Steve told you, breaking the silence. “Housewarming gift.”
“Oh, no,” You responded with a small sigh. You and Steve were probably the least “green thumb” people ever. “It’s gonna be dead in a week.”
“She said it’s a low-maintenance one so we’ll see how true that is,” He said as he shrugged. “Now that I’m thinking about it, though, is it weird that we can easily take care of a hamster, but a plant will barely last a week with us?”
You shook your head. “Harold provides us constant love and affection— even when he’s running on his squeaky wheel at three in the morning, it’s somehow still adorable— a plant does not do that. So, which one are we gonna remember to care for?”
“Very, very true.”
“At least one person gave us a gift, though,” You said. “Now that I’m remembering that we called this a housewarming party, I’m actually kinda upset that we didn’t get any more presents. Where’s our fancy plates and cookware, or even a nice throw blanket?”
You were only slightly joking with your statement, you would’ve actually loved getting a blanket.
Steve laughed a bit. “If that’s what you wanted then we should’ve invited our moms and their friends.”
“Fuck, we really should’ve done that when we moved in. Such a missed opportunity.”
“I fully think that if we did do that our apartment would look eerily similar to Miss Johnson’s,” Steve said and you could imagine it completely. Frilly white curtains in the living room instead of the black ones that were currently up that blocked out the sun perfectly, and flowery pillows on the gray couch instead of the sage green ones that you found on sale a few weeks ago.
You inwardly shuddered at the thought. “Okay, yes, that’s probably true, but at least we would be using nice plates and not the Mickey Mouse ones we got from that thrift shop.”
Steve jokingly gasped, offended. “I love those Mickey plates, actually.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that. Just for a moment, it was nice to completely forget about what happened not even an hour ago and what led you to essentially hide away in your bathroom in the first place.
Things got quiet again and it was the kind of silence that you liked; the kind that made you feel completely comfortable with spending the rest of the night avoiding everything and staying right there in your tub with Steve, and you knew that he would’ve been okay with that too. Even though your bodies would’ve probably started aching after just thirty minutes of being in this position, and he was taller so it would be worse for him, he wouldn’t have complained.
You focused on the muffled sound of the music playing in the living room. This time you managed to make out the familiar beat of the song; Somebody to Love by Queen. You let out a sigh because that song playing right then somehow felt way too on the nose.
Steve reached over and lightly poked your knee. “You okay?”
You were so close to pushing the question away again, avoiding the topic and bringing up something else completely— maybe saying that you actually loved those damn Mickey Mouse plates too— but you actually didn’t feel like brushing the topic away anymore.
“He doesn’t like me,” You abruptly said, voice quiet. “I was tired of trying to read between lines and shit, so I just asked him, and he said no.”
You noticed the sad look cross Steve’s face, which only made a fresh wave of embarrassment and sadness wash over you, but you kept going before he could say anything just yet. “And then to make that whole moment even more embarrassing for me, after he said no he pointed at this girl— I don’t know her name, I think Robin invited her— and asked if I knew if she was single or not.”
Steve’s response of “What the fuck,” was immediate and it was really nice hearing how angry he was on your behalf and it made you smile a bit.
“This past hour has been extremely humbling for me. And I know I said I’d find someone to make out with if things didn’t work out with Charlie, but I’m not even in the mood to do that,” You told him as you leaned back against the cool tub and closed your eyes. “And you wanna know what the worst part of all of this is?”
“What?” “I’m not even drunk right now, so I’ll sadly remember all of this tomorrow.”
You weren’t entirely sure what you expected Steve to say in response to that, but you fully did not expect him to laugh. You opened your eyes and lightly kicked his leg. “Wow, thank you for laughing at my pain.”
“I’m sorry. I am a little drunk right now, so you saying that you’re not is kind of funny because it feels like the roles are reversed,” He said and you slightly hated how right he was. At any party you went to, he was usually the sober-ish one helping you out whenever you drank too much. “Robin and I were playing the Uno drinking game with some people.”
“What? I can’t believe I missed that.”
“We can go play it now. You’d honestly probably win for once since you’re the only one of us who isn’t drunk.”
“Ha ha,” You said with a roll of your eyes as you reached forward so that you could playfully hit him. “I know I’m the worst at that game, but it doesn’t make it any less fun.”
“Okay, come on, let’s go play,” Steve said before standing up, and then reaching his hands out toward you so that he could help you up.
He was trying to cheer you up, you could clearly see that, and you almost took him up on his suggestion. But, the thought of leaving your bathroom or even the comfort of the tub didn’t sit well with you. Mainly since you were unsure if Charlie was still out there and you didn’t want to see him or what he was doing because you knew you’d only feel embarrassed all over again. Yes, it was your apartment and you could’ve easily kicked him out if he was still there, but it felt so much easier to simply stay right where you were.
You looked up at Steve and shook your head. “I don’t really wanna play, actually.”
Steve sat back down with you. “Okay, I haven’t seen you this upset over a guy in a long time. What is it about Charlie? Why is he so special?”
It only took a second for an answer to come to your mind because it was something that you had actually been thinking about a lot lately but had yet to verbalize it.
“I don’t– I don’t even think it’s really about him specifically. It’s just, I’m so tired of having crushes— of liking a guy and it going absolutely nowhere… I want something real. It’s been what feels like forever, and the last time was with that guy whose name we will never say in this house. And we both know how that horrific relationship ended.” It was rare that you ever talked about that relationship anymore, so hearing you mention it right then— even in just a minor way— actually surprised Steve, it even surprised you a little bit. That relationship was something that went on from the end of your Sophomore year of high school to the middle of Junior year; close to a year of your life that you really wished you could get back because you put up with a lot of shit that you now knew you shouldn’t have.
“I want something good for once, and I thought that maybe I could have that with Charlie. I thought maybe he wasn’t an asshole. But, now I’m back at fucking square one, and it’s just so…” You trailed off with a sigh, not bothering to finish your statement.
“It’ll happen. You’ll find someone. Someone actually good,” Steve told you, his voice was soft and you could hear the sincerity behind his words.
You let out a sigh and leaned your head back against the wall. “Sometimes I hate talking about relationship stuff with you.”
“What? Why?” Steve asked. He sounded genuinely confused and for a second you felt bad because there wasn’t supposed to be anything you didn’t like talking about with him— you were best friends.
“Because you can get a date with any girl ever, and you could probably easily be in a committed, serious thing if you wanted to. Meanwhile, I’m getting rejected left and right or falling for complete idiots,” You answered, letting the words fall out and not really thinking about them too much because they just felt way too true. However, once they fully registered in your head, you could feel yourself inwardly cringing. “Ew. Oh, God, I sound pathetic. Please forget I said anything.”
“It’s not true,” Steve told you with an immediate shake of his head. You almost said “Which part?” but he continued before you could ask that question. “I go on dates, yeah. But, none of them are close to, or are even leading to, something real. Even if I wanted it to, the girls I date don’t want something real with me.”
You considered his words for a second. “Well, in that case, they’re idiots.”
“Charlie’s an idiot too.”
“Cheers to that,” You responded. “God, I wish I was drunk right now.”
Steve laughed at your words and then opened his mouth to say something. For some reason, you had a feeling that he was going to try and coax you out of the bathroom again, and you were still unsure if you wanted to get up just yet, so you decided to say something before he could. “Do you ever want something serious?”
He was quiet for a second, as if really thinking about your question. “I don’t know… It changes a lot.” You nodded at that before he continued. “Most of the time I think I do, though.”
“Well, with what you just said about the girls you date and with what happened to me tonight, I think you and I are just gonna be alone together forever.”
He let out a small laugh. “I think so too.”
You smiled at him. “And I know that should sound at least a little bit sad, but right now, it honestly doesn’t.”
He smiled back at you. “Yeah, that actually sounds okay.”
Neither of you got the chance to say anything else because the sound of the door opening caught both of your attention.
“Okay, two things,” You both recognized Robin’s voice before she pulled back the curtain to look down at you two. “One, I really need to pee so I need you both to get out of here, please. And two, Eddie pulled Harold out of his cage and is trying to teach him to do tricks.”
You groaned as you started standing up. “Oh, God. Not again.”
Steve followed suit, standing up as well, as he rolled his eyes. “Why is that always his go-to thing to do when he’s high?”
Robin laughed, you easily noticed how tipsy she was. “And what makes it even funnier is that he does this all the time but Harold has not actually learned any “trick” yet.”
“The day that Eddie somehow teaches him how to “roll over,” I will pass away in shock,” You said as you adjusted your dress, fixing how much it had ridden up while you were sitting in the tub.
You and Steve stepped out of your bathroom to let Robin use it. But, you hesitated to open your bedroom door and let you two step back into the party happening in the rest of the apartment.
Steve easily noticed your hesitation and his hand found yours, giving it a light reassuring squeeze. “You handle Eddie, and if Charlie is still here, I’ll tell him to leave, okay?”
You inwardly sighed in relief hearing him say that because, of course, he knew the exact thing you had been worried about.
“Thanks.” There was so much more said in the simple one-word— thank you for reading my mind, thank you for always being able to do so, thank you for being the best goddamn person in my life.
Steve nodded and gave your hand another squeeze, hearing all of those underlying words and then some. “I have been waiting all night to do this, actually, so thank you. And we’re playing the Uno drinking game after.”
You smiled at that and gave him a quick nod. “Okay.”
You then opened your door and stepped out, giving Steve’s hand a squeeze of your own before pulling away as you started making your way toward Eddie, who was sitting on the couch with Harold in his lap. You pretended as if you were completely unaffected when you briefly noticed Charlie standing in your kitchen and talking to the same girl he had pointed out to you earlier.
“Edward Munson put Harold back in his cage right now.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(also requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x fem!reader#stranger things fluff#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things fic#stranger things imagine
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A Shot at Love: meet the 12 eligible bachelors
It’s time to reveal the 12 eligible bachelors on this season of A Shot at Love: an nhl dating show au!
Get to know our 12 eligible bachelors, and the special guest hosts of our show, below!
Remember to mark your calendars, A Shot at Love: an nhl dating show au premiers Friday July 19th at 7pm EST!
A Shot at Love is pleased to announce that this season’s hosts are Paul Bissonnette and Ryan Whitney!
These two characters are ready to lead our lovely bachelorette through the journey of finding a shot at love with one of our lucky 12 bachelors!
Be prepared for plenty of Pink Whitney shots, and shameless sponsorship plugs (these washed up guys gotta make money somehow, why do you think they took this gig?). They might even have a few special guests stopping by the mansion!
And now let’s meet the 12 eligible bachelors!
Nico Hischier | 25, from Switzerland
Captain of the New Jersey Devils. Sweeter than Swiss Chocolate. Like quite frankly might be the sweetest man on planet earth. Enjoys adventures outdoors, movie nights, and a good puzzle. Loves working out, but be aware he definitely will always have a better butt than you. Very patient as he deals with Jack Hughes all day long. Nico is looking for a forever music festival date.
Jamie Drysdale | 22, from Toronto
His on ice skills make up for those he lacks in the style department. But that’s where you come in, Jamie needs a girl who can improve his fashion sense (cause Trevor clearly didn’t do much for him). He takes pride in his flow, so you never have to worry about him making fun of your self care routine. Jamie enjoys country music, shoulder rubs, and puppies.
Matt Rempe | 22, from Calgary
You’ll never have to worry about being taller than him in heels, as he is quite literally a giant. He loves a good book, and is even the co-founder of the first ever Rangers Book Club with Chris Kreider. Not afraid to fight for you. Guaranteed to make you laugh with his silly catch phrases. Looking for a girl who isn’t scared to clean his battle wounds.
Vince Dunn | 27, from Kawartha Lakes
The best mix of cocky, sweetheart, and a little bit of airhead. Knows he’s attractive, but will still be a complete goofball. A connoisseur of alcohol, could definitely recommend a wine or two. He enjoys video games, nights out, and binge watching a good Netflix show. He isn’t afraid to show his tough side if it comes to fighting for what he wants. Vince is looking for a girl to travel the world in the offseason enjoying the cuisine every country has to offer.
Jack Eichel | 27, from Chelmsford
His real name is John, but he goes by Jack. Be aware he is always going to be the diva of the relationship. Loves any sort of competitive activity, but will never let you win, and will always whine if he loses. Has a big heart and enjoys philanthropic work. Jack will never fail to make you laugh, always having a funny story to tell about another teammate. Jack is looking for a girl who is up for Brunch on Sunday’s, with football on the tv.
Mat Barzal | 27, from Coquitlam
Unique already because he spells his name with one T and not two, Mat is an all around catch. He speaks French, is obsessed with vacations to Italy, and prides himself on his physique. He’s not afraid of designer clothes, and you can guarantee he will buy you nice things. Mat is looking for a girl who will ride scooters with him Italy, and have a cold drink waiting for him on the golf cart after he sinks a hole in one.
Trevor Zegras | 23, from Bedford
Fasten your seatbelt, because with Trevor life is always in the fast lane. Trevor is a ball of energy that will always keep you guessing. Quite possibly a 10 year old trapped in a 23 year olds body. Whether you laugh at his jokes or not, Trevor will always be laughing. He enjoys music festivals, video games, and running his mouth 24/7. If you don’t end up choosing him he’s got Cole and the Hughes brothers as backups.
Quinn Hughes | 24, Bloomington
Don’t be fooled by his demeanor, Quinn is a big teddy bear. Captain of the Vancouver Canucks, he’s got a good amount of pressure on his shoulders. So Quinn enjoys time at the lake house to relax in the off season. Whether it be time on the boat, a round of golf, or time with family, Quinn loves taking time to recharge. He may be shy or soft spoken at first, but when he opens up he’s the biggest goofball. Quinn is looking for a girl that doesn’t mind annoying younger brothers.
Auston Matthews | 26, from Scottsdale
Not necessarily familiar with winning when it counts, but he sure knows how to score. Auston enjoys a day spent outdoors, walking his dog, and is even a closet sewer! So no more trips to the seamstress for you! He is also friends with Justin Bieber, so your wedding singer is already on lock. Auston is looking for a girl who will stick by his side through the ups, but more importantly the downs (cause knowing Toronto there will probably be a few).
Cole Caufield | 23, from Mosinee
The biggest Swifty in the league, though he tries to hide his love for her. He bought a party bus for T Swift, imagine the things this man would buy for you. His smile could light up any room, and there will never be a day he doesn’t make you laugh. Don’t get offended if he occasionally needs time with his boys (Trevor and Jack), they might let you fourth wheel if you’re lucky. Cole is looking for a girl to laugh at all his jokes and belt out T Swift at karaoke after a few beers.
Luke Hughes | 20, Manchester
The youngest of the Hughes brothers, and the youngest in the race for love. Though Luke very much is mature for his age. He prides himself on his attention to detail and how much he’d learn about you from one conversation. Luke enjoys a relaxing Sunday where you stay under the blankets and watch trashy reality tv. He is soft spoken, but your one on one conversations is where he chooses to open up. Luke is looking for a girl who can keep him sane but also bring out his wild side.
John Marino | 27, Easton
Probably the smartest man in the competition, he went to Harvard for crying out loud. John is a big fan of Fall, so he will gladly enjoy all the activities it brings and support your fall girl aesthetic. His ideal night in when he has a day off would be board games or a movie with lots of snacks. He loves to brighten your day with random facts, half of them not ones you believed because they were so random. John is looking for a girl who knows of anything fun to do in Utah, because seriously what is this city boy supposed to do in Utah?
#nico hischier fic#nico hischier#Luke Hughes#Luke Hughes fic#matt rempe#matt rempe fic#John Marino#John Marino fic#jack eichel fic#jack Eichel#Quinn Hughes#Quinn Hughes fic#mat barzal#mat Barzal fic#Trevor Zegras#Trevor Zegras fic#Cole caufield fic#cole caufield#jamie drysdale#Jamie Drysdale fic#auston Matthews#Auston Matthews fic#Vince dunn#Vince dunn fic#nhl fic#nhl au#Hockey au#hockey fic
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What does terzology know about the overthrow of Papa III? Do we have a hypothesis about the reasons for it?
very topical question. i was just thinking about this, actually.
as we know, Terzo was dragged off the stage while singing 'Monstrance Clock' at his final concert on September 30, 2017 in Gothenburg, Sweden.
youtube
it's tempting to think Sister Imperator simply hated Terzo and couldn't wait to get rid of him so she could put Cardi in charge, which i think is at least a tiny bit true, but not entirely true.
i watched the Era 3 lore video series 'The Summoning' with some friends the a while ago, and it was the first time they'd watched it. one of them remarked they were surprised that Sister Imperator seemed to be genuinely hyping up Terzo.
this is true! Sister Imperator did actually hype up Terzo during his first year as Papa. at the beginning of Era 3, she was deeply disappointed with the Nameless Ghouls and The Ghost Project's failure to make significant progress in their mission to convert the world to their cult. she was initially very excited for Terzo's reign and believed that he would be extremely successful.
SISTER IMPERATOR: Brothers and Sisters, you know why you are here tonight. This Ministry is now seven years into The Ghost Project. Seven long years of work. Two Papas, two albums, one gold. These are indeed some respectable numbers, but let me give you some others. Churches opened: zero. Governments toppled: zero. World leaders converted to the cause: zero. You call yourselves salesmen? Masterminds? You have done shit! And don't blame the music. The music is the very manifestation of His Dark Majesty. And don't blame this fine merchandise! It's a disgrace! Papa 2 has been let go. He is a miserable, wounded, and bitter old man, and he is washed up! But let's look forward now. This is a new piece of music. And these are your new masks. And this is Papa 2's brother. He is a full 3 months younger. This man will take the band further than any of us could ever have imagined. I present to you now… Papa Emeritus III! The Summoning (part 1) (May 20, 2015)
Terzo did end up being very successful, even before Meliora released.
SISTER IMPERATOR: It has arrived! Some of you did not believe the new Papa would be able to cast a shadow as wide and as far as his great predecessor. Your faithlessness is now dust in my mouth. You should be on your knees humbling yourselves before what has been accomplished here! All you need to do is look outside. Look at the graffiti on the walls, look at the lights illuminated at night, where once there was only darkness. The Summoning IV: The Arrival || Unholy / Unplugged - Los Angeles, California, USA (August 21, 2015)
Sister Imperator felt she was right to have faith in Terzo. she continued to preach about Terzo's power and demanded that others respect him.
SISTER IMPERATOR: Welcome! Welcome, my faithful brothers and sisters! Your presence here is proof of your commitment. If you are unsure, cast off your doubts now. There is no turning back. The rite you're about to witness is but one small but essential movement in our spiritual revolution. We prayed, and he has arrived! But! But! He will demand more of you! He will need to hear from the abyss of your hearts that you are ready. His is a voice of the pit and the pinnacle! His Nameless Ghouls are the music of the [UNINTELLIGIBLE], but your holy noise is the key! You must cry out his name! Say it with me now: Papa Emeritus! Again! Again! Again! Very good. Shh! Shh! Shhhhhh! Listen. Do you hear it? Do you? It's the terrible sound of the ignorant– the mistrust and anger of the masses. The world is unstable and they have lost their balance. But we, here together, are the new foundation. We are the shape of things to come! There's not much time. We won't be able to do the required incantation. We must let the music do the summoning. My brethren, my brethren, bow your heads and raise your horns to pierce the veil of heaven, so the skies will be torn asunder! And Papa may fall into our midst! Now is the moment. Now, there is no other. Papa Emeritus III! Ghost! Ghost is here! Los Angeles, CA, USA (October 26, 2015)
so what was the turning point? the 2016 Grammy win.
listen. Sister Imperator hated that Grammy so fucking much. this seems weird because she wanted the band to be successful, but here's the thing: Sister Imperator is a zealot. a real religious freak. as shown by her words in The Summoning part 1, she fully believes that the true mission and purpose of The Ghost Project is to serve satan and convert the world to his church. she was happy that Ghost's success meant more people were hearing their message, but she was very, very mad that Terzo and the Nameless Ghouls seemed to be enjoying their success a little too much. she felt like they had lost focus, forgetting their mission for satan and instead focusing on their commercial success. and to her, the Grammy was representative of the establishment / mainstream society, something they should avoid as the leaders of satan's flock of black sheep.
SISTER IMPERATOR: The industry has noted our good works with their trinket. And as a result, our message is carried further and wider. But do we take such trinkets as sacrament and the measure of true accomplishment? No! We don't need their approval. The truth of our work is not measured by awards and nods from the establishment. [...] I have here letters from your followers, demanding that we explain why nothing has changed. They have made their own sacrifices. But what have you done? How will you answer them? By holding up your golden gramophone? Is this the change you promised? Is this the sign of a new age? It is nothing! It is another false idol. The Summoning V: The Square And Hammer (September 13, 2016)
notably, she never said anything negative about Terzo while verbally abusing the Ghouls. she still demanded respect for him and his position.
SISTER IMPERATOR: You are supposed to lead. It is your task. Your task! To lead! I think you're afraid of real change. Let's take a breath. I think I understand the problem. You think Papa's words should be enough. But then you misunderstand the nature of true power. Papa is not a mouthpiece for the Dark Divinity. He is not a pawn. He is a mediator. He is the path. His way is the truth and the darkness! And you– you are his apostles. And yet, you deny, you deny! The Summoning VI: The Proceedings Intensify (Oct 17, 2016)
... but that doesn't mean she wasn't also mad at him, too. we just didn't see it.
Terzo was very proud of his Grammy, and he did like to brag about it a little bit. Sister Imperator would have definitely been mad about that.
PAPA EMERITUS III: Alright! How are you feeling now? Quite good, right? Yeah! Alright, I know you like your hard-rocking shit here in Skåne, right? Enough of those ballads– award-winning ballad, actually. AUDIENCE: [APPLAUSE] PAPA EMERITUS III: Oh, thank you. Malmö, Sweden (February 25, 2016)
PAPA EMERITUS III: Yes! A Grammy award winning song! Right here, right now! That doesn't happen every day. Acoustic performance at 93X Radio - Minneapolis, Minnesota (July 28, 2016)
Sister Imperator had respect for Terzo's position as Papa, but she didn't respect him.
it's not like Terzo didn't care! Terzo is actually described as "less rebellious". and we know from the words of Bishop Necropolitus Cracoviensis II that Terzo had always been very dedicated to his church and the people in it. Terzo was a believer in the dark lord, and he was a very hard worker. the problem is that Terzo genuinely wanted a better and brighter future for the world, while Sister hoped to hasten its demise. (don't forget the original explicitly stated mission statement of Ghost was to promote the apocalypse + human extinction). i think they both knew his vision for the future of the church / the world was not in alignment with hers. i think Sister Imperator turned on Terzo when he started acting too confident in himself.
Sister Imperator started making plans to replace Terzo as early as November 2016, almost an entire year before he was dragged off the stage at his last concert. while i do think Sister Imperator disliked Terzo and was happy to get rid of him, i don't think she felt her decision had anything to do with her personal feelings. Sister Imperator talks directly to satan (as shown in Chapter 5) and receives visions (as stated in The Summoning part 5 and part 7). she had a vision that indicated it would soon be time to replace Papa 3 with Papa 4. she started making arrangements accordingly, and Nihil went along with it.
SISTER IMPERATOR: Despite your weakness, and your cowardliness, your failures, I still believe in you. And I believe in you because I have seen the future! I have already been witness to three transfigurations, and each time I can see that we are closer to the final glory, and I have seen you rise to the occasion each time. So can you do it again? [...] After all we have been through in these past few days, all the shames laid bare, are you ready to start anew? The new coming is about to begin. Will you take up your instruments? Will you be able to commit to the utter annihilation of all this is false? All that is greed? All that is staid and conformist and empty? Hm? Then rise. RISE!!!! Now! I give you another chance at transformation. But you must beg. You must demand to be sacrificed! You must prostrate your hearts while you stand tall in the dark, for the fourth incarnation of Papa will guide us. The Summoning VII: Believe This (Nov 14, 2016)
i don't know why Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil decided Terzo's reign would end on September 30th, 2017. and i can't fully explain why they chose to humiliate him by having him dragged off the stage. (even Secondo, who they thought was terrible at his job, was allowed a dignified ending.) and i can't explain why they desecrated his body by using his severed head as a prop for a photoshoot. but idk, it kinda seems like maybe they just hated him.
TLDR: Sister Imperator genuinely believed in Terzo, but she turned on him when he started acting in a way she didn't like. Terzo died as he lived– being used and betrayed by the people he dedicated his life to.
#papa emeritus iii#terzo#sister imperator#nameless ghoul#papa nihil#nihil#radley post#the band ghost lore#analysis#headcanon#asks#quotes
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I don't like conservative "news" media like fox and this site but no one else is talking about how surrogacy gives pedos access to kids.
The fertility industry is handing designer babies over to men with zero vetting or scrutiny of their mental fitness or criminal history.
By KATY FAUST
Surrogacy is risky for children. Not just the risk of a primal wound via intentional birth mother separation. Not just the risk of identity struggles if their genetic mother is purchased from a catalog. Not just the risk of mother-hunger if they are raised in a home absent maternal love.
Surrogacy puts children at risk for the worst kinds of abuse.
That became glaringly obvious last month when YouTubers Shane Dawson and partner Ryan Adams announced the birth of twin boys. Dawson’s long history of sexualizing children is well-known and well-documented. Evie magazine detailed concerning incidents including Dawson pretending to masturbate while watching 11-year-old Willow Smith’s music video, referring to a 6-year-old fan as “kind of sexy,” justifying pedophilia as a mere “fetish,” typing “naked baby” in a child pornography search and remarking that the returns were “sexy,” and proclaiming, “I would rape all of you” when viewing a series of photos featuring young girls wearing his merchandise.
In one show, he instructed a 12-year-old to eat a “cocktail weenie” with the recognition that child molesters comprise a significant portion of his audience. Dawson and Adam have another 10 embryos in frozen storage should they decide they want a few more children around the house.
We hope no harm comes to the boys to whom Dawson and Adams have been granted (via surrogacy contract) parental rights. But other surrogate-born children were not so fortunate.
Contrary to what you may think, surrogacy isn’t just about helping infertile couples have babies. When we look at how surrogacy is actually practiced and promoted, we see surrogacy isn’t about babies, it’s about on-demand, designer babies shipped worldwide. And sometimes, those babies are shipped directly to child abusers.
We don’t know the raw numbers because, unlike organ donation, the medical wing of #BigFertility requires no tracking or follow-up of those who avail themselves of their services. (Apparently, there’s more concern about the survival of a kidney than a child.) And unlike adoption, which heavily vets and screens prospective parents and monitors the child post-placement, surrogate-born children are not known to social workers and often disappear across international borders.
Even when safeguards are in place, predators often go to great lengths to acquire children to abuse. In 2022, the country was horrified by the story of a suburban pedophile ring set up by two married men who raped and pimped out their adopted sons.
That children created by a fertility industry with no mechanism (and no desire) to scrutinize intended parents for things like mental fitness, criminal records, or predatory history end up in the homes of dangerous adults should surprise no one.
Absent any kind of record-keeping or follow-up on these children, those of us who reject surrogacy on the grounds that it violates the rights of children, must piece together the risks when stories of child victimization emerge.
These 5 Pedophiles Mail-Ordered Babies
Psychiatrist Jo Erik Brøyn held a high position in Norwegian social services responsible for child protection and was involved in several high-profile cases of child removal. He also acquired two boys through an Indian surrogate. In 2018, police discovered 20 years’ worth of child pornography in his possession — more than 20,000 images and 4,000 hours of videos — depicting child sexual abuse including “boys masturbating each other, fixed/sexualized violence against children, anal sex by men with boys or oral sex of children (including toddlers) on grown men.” He was sentenced to less than two years in prison. Some sources report that the boys have been returned to his care.
An unnamed German pedophile hired a Russian surrogate for €60,000 who birthed the baby in Greece. He then flew the child back to Germany. In 2020, a regional court found him guilty of child abuse and producing and possessing child pornography. His child was a subject of 16 of those cases between the ages of 2 and 3, and the defendant was in possession of 175,000 images of child pornography. He was sentenced to five years in prison. The child was removed from his custody.
In 2013, Mark Newton and Peter Truong were convicted of subjecting their surrogate-born son to “the worst [pedophile] rings … if not the worst ring I’ve ever heard of,” according to one investigator. After paying a Russian surrogate $8,000 to carry the child, the pair began to violate the boy as a newborn.
“The abuse began just days after his birth and over six years the couple traveled the world, offering him up for sex with at least eight men, recording the abuse and uploading the footage to an international syndicate known as the Boy Lovers Network.” Police believe the pair created the boy through surrogacy “for the sole purpose of exploitation.” The child was removed from their custody, and the men are serving decades-long sentences.
During the height of the Indian surrogacy boom, it was revealed that an Israeli sex offender had procured a little girl via surrogacy. Had #BigFertility had any kind of vetting in place or required fingerprinting or simply character references, it would likely have been discovered that the man had spent 18 months in jail for sexually abusing young children under his supervision. The discovery shocked authorities in both India and Israel, but because they couldn’t prove that abuse had yet taken place, there was no ground to remove the girl from his custody. It did however validate India’s decision to ban single men and gay couples, who composed 30-50 percent of intended parents, from the Indian surrogacy market.
In 2014, intended parents Wendy and David Farnell commissioned twin surrogate children in Thailand, then a global hotspot for surrogacy. The little girl, Pipah, was healthy, but the little boy, Gammy, had serious medical issues as well as Down Syndrome. A scandal erupted when the couple took the little girl back to Australia but abandoned Gammy to be raised by the Thai surrogate.
It was then discovered that David had been jailed in the late 1990s for sexually molesting two girls under the age of 10, and was charged, convicted, and sentenced again in 1998 on six counts of indecently dealing with a child under the age of 13. When his criminal record was revealed and investigated, a judge determined there was “a low risk of harm if Pipah stays in that home,” and she remained in the care of Wendy and David until his death in 2020. The “Baby Gammy” case was one of several scandals that prompted the Thai government to ban commercial surrogacy altogether.
Many of the above cases are older, the results of contracts that were drawn up when surrogacy was less common. Since then, the surrogacy industry has grown exponentially with a projected 1,000 percent increase by 2032. In addition, there are entire organizations devoted to delivering custom-ordered babies to men, none of which will have to submit to background checks or fingerprinting. So expect more cases of surrogate-born child exploitation in the coming years.
Whether or not the child ends up abused, whether it’s paid or altruistic, whether it’s traditional or gestational, and regardless of the intended parent’s household composition, surrogacy always violates the rights of the child. It is not a problem that can be solved through regulation. The only way to protect children is to ban surrogacy worldwide.
#Anti surrogacy#Surrogacy exploits women#Babies are not commodities#No one is entitled to biological children#Some people should not even be near kids#Are fertility agencies required to do background checks on potential parents?
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In Your Eyes
Steve Harrington x Best Friend!Reader
2.5k words
Warnings: Pining, fluff, tiny angst
You loved your job at Family Video. Movies were an obsession of yours, so having access to them at a discount was a great perk. The store was only a few blocks from your house, so you saved tons on gas and could easily bum rides off people when your dad couldn’t loan you the car. The hours didn’t suck, and the pay was decent. The best part of your job, however, was working with friends—except for the moments when Robin Buckley decided to tease you about your love life.
“You know, I’m pretty sure he’s in love with you,” Robin piped up as the two of you grabbed candy from the back for a restock.
You shook your head. “Steve? Yeah, right,” you scoffed.
“Come on. He talks about you all the time, he lights up like a Christmas tree when you enter the room, he kind of can’t keep his eyes off you, he makes me switch shifts with him so he can work with you-”
“Yeah, because he knows he can get me to mop up at the end of the night,” you grumbled, folding your arms across your chest.
Robin smirked. “Because you’re in love with him,” she pointed out.
“In love with who?”
Steve Harrington stood in the doorway, sliding his Family Video vest over his shoulders, ready to start his shift. He cocked an eyebrow at you; you prayed that he couldn’t see how shaky your legs suddenly became.
“John Cusack,” you blurted out, shooting Robin a look that silently begged her to shut her mouth.
Steve nodded slowly. “John Cusack,” he repeated. “He was one of the geeky guys in Sixteen Candles, right? And he was in that movie you dragged me to like five times? The one where he’s got the boom box like this.” He lifted his arms in the air over his head, mimicking one of your favorite movie moments.
“Say Anything,” you confirmed softly, your heart skipping a beat at the sight in front of you. “Yeah, I loved that one.”
The three of you stood in your small circle for a moment, Robin’s eyes darting back and forth between you and Steve as neither you said another word. These silences had been happening more and more lately; part of you wondered if Steve had figured out your feelings and was looking for a way to let you down gently.
In almost all your memories from the time you could walk up through middle school, Steve was there. Even when you wound up in different circles in high school, you would still find him climbing through your window in the middle of the night just to talk or share a snack or listen to music. It wasn’t something his girlfriends liked, but he always assured him that you were just friends.
Just friends. You hated the little twisty feeling that appeared in your stomach when you thought of those two little words. From the moment thirteen-year-old Steve had sat next to you on your bed and pressed his lips to yours for the first time, you were a goner. The funny thing was, you hadn’t even wanted to kiss him; you only agreed because he was your best friend, and he was begged you to let him get this milestone “out of the way”. But by the time he crawled back out your window and was scurrying across the street to his house, you were head-over-heels in love with the boy.
And here you were now, years down the road, still melting at the sight of his stupidly perfect hair and deep brown eyes. Another perk of your Family Video job.
“Well,” Robin finally said, clearing her throat. “Let’s get this candy out there before a customer comes in.” She gave Steve a gentle punch in the arm as the two of you walked past him. “See you out there,” she called over her shoulder as Steve moved to clock in.
As you and Robin walked back to the front of the store, she raised her eyebrows at you.
“You’re really obvious, you know that?” she scoffed. “I don’t get how he doesn’t know you’re nuts about him.”
“Robin!” you hissed, snapping your head towards the office door Steve would be coming through at any moment. “Please!” Robin rolled her eyes, but for once she shut her mouth.
~
“You need to tell him.”
You and Robin laid down on your bed, the English Beat playing on the record player on your dresser. Hanging out after work had turned into dinner had turned into a sleepover; it was just past midnight, and you were at the point of the evening where one of you usually blurted something out just to annoy the other one.
“Enough, Robin,” you muttered, rolling onto your stomach. Your eyes landed on your dresser, where a framed photo of you and Steve sat. It was from your first-ever middle school dance, which Steve had taken you to. Another first the two of you shared. You could still remember the weird feeling in your stomach when Steve placed his hands carefully on your waist during the slow songs; you now recognized that the feeling was butterflies. Almost as if your body knew how you felt about Steve before your brain did.
Robin followed your gaze and lit up at the sight of the photograph. “You two are adorable,” she mockingly gushed. She hopped off the bed and skipped over to the picture. Before she could lift it, she paused, and your heart froze when you remembered what was next to the picture.
A few nights ago, after pining particularly hard over Steve during a movie night, you had locked yourself in your closet and penned a letter to him. In it, you spilled your guts: I love you… I can’t stop thinking about you… I wish you would notice me… It was utterly cringe-worthy, and you had every intention of burning the damn thing. But of course, Robin found it before your lazy ass could toss it in the fireplace.
Her jaw dropped as she snatched the letter and her eyes scanned it quickly. You didn’t even bother getting up to fight her for it; it was nothing she hadn’t already heard you whine about anyway. She finally looked back up at you, her gaze softer now. You clutched your pillow and squirmed awkwardly.
“Don’t laugh,” you half-whispered.
Robin sighed. “Seriously,” she said gently. “You need to tell him.” She left the letter on the dresser and rejoined you on the bed, propping herself up on her elbow. Her devilish grin returned. “Or I will.”
~
The next morning, Robin woke up early and quietly left for her opening shift at Family Video, promising to see you later when you went in for your afternoon shift. So, you happily laid in bed for about an hour before deciding to get up and get yourself ready for the day. After a hot shower, you returned to your room and opened your dresser drawer. As you began to grab your things, you realized that something felt… off.
“Oh no,” you gasped as you scanned the top off your dresser. There were your perfumes… your jewelry box… the photo of you and Steve…
“Where’s the letter?” you choked out, scrambling to move things around, knowing full well that the letter was gone.
You sank to the floor, pulling your towel tighter around you, as if it would somehow protect you from what you knew would be impending embarrassment. “Robin,” you muttered through gritted teeth.
Just as you were planning your revenge, the phone rang. Your mother called your name, shouting that Robin was on the other end. You quickly grabbed the phone you had in your room and answered.
“Robin-”
“Heeeeey,” Robin greeted slowly as you both heard the click of your mother hanging up on her end. “Think you could come in a bit early? Steve, uh, called out today.”
Heat rose to your face. “Robin, did you-”
“Just, uh, come in, okay? We’ll chat once you’re here.” Click.
The tone of fear and nerves was not one you often heard from Robin. You resisted the urge to slam your head against the wall, hoping that somehow your best girlfriend had not destroyed your life.
~
A customer jumped at the sound of the slamming door as you entered Family Video. You made a beeline for the counter, where Robin was sorting a stack of videos. She winced at the sight of you, her cheeks turning deep red.
“Heeeeeey best friend,” she called in a hopeful, sing-song voice.
“Where is it?” you hissed, glancing around to make sure there were no customers in earshot.
Robin cleared her throat and shuffled her feet. “See, funny story….” She glanced up at the ceiling, as if the words she needed were typed above her head. “I kind of… gave it to Steve.”
Several customers looked up at the inhuman screech that came out of your mouth.
“What the hell, Robin?” you groaned, burying your burning face in your hands. “Why would you do that? What did he say?”
“Okay, so,” Robin started. “I, uh, gave Steve the letter in the office. And he read it, I guess. And then he came out and said he was going home… and just walked out.” Robin lifted her hands to her face, as if she thought you would hit her. Which, honestly, sounded like a good idea.
Your chest tightened with anxiety. “And?”
“That’s it,” Robin answered. “I haven’t heard from him since.”
Tears stung in your eyes. Great. Steve now knew you loved him. And he left work so he wouldn’t have to see you, so he wouldn’t have to tell you that no, he did not like you that way. He would probably go on yet another date and laugh about your stupid letter with whatever girl he had on his arm. And he would never, ever speak to you again, except maybe to ask you to switch shifts with him so he could go out with some beautiful girl.
“I’m so sorry,” Robin whispered, interrupting your panicked thoughts. The pain in her eyes melted your heart a bit. Deep down, you knew she had done what she did out of her affection for you. “I thought-”
Sighing, you shook your head. “Let me just clock in,” you said, defeat echoing in your voice.
~
After a long shift, an awkward dinner at Robin’s house, and a quick shower, you planted yourself on your bed, determined to distract yourself with a book. Through your closed window you could hear the distant sound of music as you finally hit a rhythm with your book, but it was muffled under the melancholy sound of The Cure coming from your stereo.
Two quick knocks at the door interrupted you. Your dad poked his head in, exasperation on his face.
“Honeybee?”
“Yeah, Dad?”
Your dad sighed. “Can you tell Steven to go home? I’m trying to sleep, and I have no patience for him and his antics right now.”
“Steve?” Your breath hitched slightly at the mention of his name. This was it. He was on your front porch, letter in hand, ready to confront you over your stupid, stupid crush and tell you that your friendship was over, that eighteen years of laughter and memories was down the drain because you couldn’t help yourself from writing that letter and Robin couldn’t help meddling.
You jumped out of bed and scurried past your dad, begging your heart to quiet down, praying that Steve wouldn’t be able to hear it. It was so loud in your ears that you once again were barely noticing the music that continued outside as you reached the front door. Taking a deep breath, you reached out and turned the doorknob.
As you opened the door, you finally recognized the sound of one of your favorite REO Speedwagon songs wafting across the yard to you. But your attention was focused on the sight on your lawn:
Steve Harrington, King Steve, your Steve, was standing in the middle of the grass, his hair more tousled than usual, with his arms in the air, holding up the boom box that usually sat in his room. From the boom box you could hear the words-
And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight
You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might
And I can't fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I started fighting for
It's time to bring this ship into the shore
And throw away the oars, forever
You let your eyes wander down from the boom box to Steve’s face. At the sight of you in the porchlight, his whole body seemed to soften, and you swore you heard him let out a gentle sigh. You quietly closed the door behind you and stepped off the porch. Steve met you in the middle of the sidewalk, allowing his boom box to fall to his side and setting it on the ground between you.
“I couldn’t find that Peter Gabriel song,” Steve blurted, gesturing at the still-playing boom box. “So I thought… I mean you like REO, right? You play them all the time in the car.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, blinking rapidly and rubbing his fingers together.
You’d seen Steve flirt plenty of times with plenty of girls. He was confident, charming, funny, and incredibly sure of himself. He made jokes and smirked and offered sly compliments. And he often left the interaction with plans for a date, shooting cocky winks at you and Robin. But that wasn’t Steve right now. His eyes were full of uncertainty as they flickered everywhere but your own eyes.
“Steve, what’re you doing?” You took a small step towards Steve, trying to make everything make sense.
A flicker of that King Steve grin flashed across his face. “You said the end of Say Anything was the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen. So, I thought I’d give it a shot.”
In spite of your nerves, you couldn’t help but smile back. “And why in the world would you do that?”
“So I can do this.”
Steve took your face in his hands and tugged you towards him, pressing his lips to yours for the second time in your life. Just like last time, your heart skipped several beats and your mind was filled with nothing but Steve. Sighing into the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling his body against yours, wondering how you’d survived going this long between lip locks with Steve Harrington.
When Steve finally pulled back, you both broke out into fits of shy giggles, giddiness evident on both of your faces.
“That was a hell of a lot better than last time,” Steve teased, giving your nose a small peck.
Rolling your eyes, you gave him a little shove. “Yeah, looks like you finally know what you’re doing, Harrington.”
His eyebrows flew up. “Oh, that’s how it is, huh?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, pulling him back in for another kiss. “That’s how it is.”
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