#The colours in this scene were fucking WILD and a pain in the ass

[almea]

"Yang!"

[spooky-mister]

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I Am A God - Prologue

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Hey!

Well, I haven't written anything in a while because I've been drowning in film school coursework. B u t we finish in a couple of weeks so I figured why not start a new fic?

I'm actually pretty excited to write this one, so let me tell you about I Am A God.

This is going to be a AU chapter fic crossing over FD3 and Jennifer's Body, throwing the characters of the former into the conflict of the latter. Some chapters may draw more heavily from Jennifer's Body (for example, this prologue is a pretty by-the-numbers retelling of Needy's opening scene), however other chapters may deviate and I will work to add nuance through the characters and their place in their universe.

I will try to keep this fic updated weekly!

Also off the bat, I would like to warn that this fic will include violence, sexual references (nothing explicitly NSFW) and major character deaths throughout. I will include any specific triggers before each chapter but please let me know if I miss out a trigger you would like me to add :)

Anyway, without further ado, on with the fic.

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I Am A God - Prologue (1/12)

Fandom: Final Destination 3/Jennifer's Body

Pairing: Various

Chapter Word Count: 1,078

Chapter Potential Triggers: Physical violence, solitary confinement

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Hell is a teenage goth.

And well, with that pretence, Erin supposed she wasn't much better.

The rough fuzz of wool grazed the ex-goth’s fingers as she fed it through the cross of popsicle sticks nesting in her palm - threading a craft project she granted little attention. Her eyes were vacant, fixed on the hatched bars of her one window and darting around as if following a fly. Without her old mask of Dollar Store make-up, Erin looked particularly tired. Exhausted, even. Drained… And her dark ginger hair clashed repulsively with her mandatory orange jumpsuit.

Erin Ulmer had been housed in McKinley, Pennsylvania’s one correctional facility for a total of two months now - barely a scratch on her total sentence. She bet they wished they could kick her out sooner. She was an outcast - even here. Quiet and meditative despite her reputation amongst the doctors and guards. She was a Kicker with a capital ‘K’ - even said so in her file. She liked to think of herself as a fighter.

She had been assigned a one-window room with a façade of cleanliness - the white walls and linoleum floor tainted by small cracks and stubborn stains. It wasn't all bad though. At least on the outside, she had her fans.

Her floor was littered with colourful cards and boxes, idols and fuzzy stuffed animals. Sure, they were mostly from creeps and clergymen, but… They were a small mercy to tape her down when she felt loose around the edges.

The girl’s left eye twitched as her thoughts were cut short by the sharp, sudden rap of knuckles against her door frame. She didn’t need to turn around - she knew who it was. At least, she knew what to expect from the gleaming white lab coats and obnoxious ID badges. It didn’t really matter which one was giving her the spiel today.

“Your mealtime started five minutes ago, Erin,” the lab coat spoke, deep, male and tired.

“Suck it, Doctor Feelgood," Erin croaked through chapped lips, but she could tell the guy wasn't going anywhere. She sighed and glanced over her shoulder, giving him a saccharine smile. "I mean, thank you."

God, she was going to rot in here.

At least mealtimes let the chains a little looser. Breakfast was her favourite. Just Erin, a barred window and a fresh frosted cherry Toast ’Em.

Typically, she was left alone to enjoy her peace and quiet.

This morning, she wasn’t so lucky.

Erin caught sight of the nutritionist before they spoke a word, narrowing cold, blue eyes as her body language tightened. The woman’s smile was patronising, her expression one of a parent deciding the best way to scold a difficult child. Erin was used to it by now. God, gag her with a spoon.

“Good morning, Erin,” the nutritionist cooed on her approach, leaning over slightly so that she came to the girl’s eye level. The woman made Erin feel nauseous, weathered, leathery skin dancing on her jowls and the stench of morning coffee still thick on her breath. She spoke to Erin with a sickly condescension, tight lips pulled taut in a false grin. “Just one Toast ‘Em today?”

“I like Toast ‘Ems,” Erin murmured with as much energy she could muster… Which was not a lot by any stretch of the imagination. She had no patience for the doctor’s interrogations, her cadence monotonous and dull. The woman didn’t seem too pleased by the brevity of her response, over-plucked eyebrows knitting together.

“That’s good,” she tested. “But I’m not sure one Toast ‘Em can provide sufficient energy during your day.”

Jesus Christ, could she shut her mouth for ten minutes? Twenty? Perhaps the whole day. Anything to spare Erin from the insufferable drawl she suffered day in. Day out. The doctor could take her clipboard and ram it up her ass. In fact, Erin would do it for her. Frustration built and built and built as Erin’s short fuse began to dwindle and hiss. She had no patience left after what she had experienced - and definitely no patience for this. She wanted to be left alone. She wanted to be free of this fucking crapshack. But while she was here, she’d just have to re-route that frustration into some… Healthier outlets. Healthy for her, at least.

“I recommend more complex carboh-”

The nutritionist didn’t get the time to deliver her advice before Erin got to her feet and launched her foot forward, cracking hard against the woman’s face and sending her stumbling and spiralling back into chairs and tables alike.

Blood oozed from the woman’s newly mangled nose as she landed on the ground with a thud, the ecstatic roar of Erin’s fellow prisoners drowning out the groans and hiccups of pain.

“I recommend you shut the fuck up!” Erin bayed, her previous docile nature stripped away in an instant to reveal a picture of rage - red hair wild and teeth bared. She inhaled sharply, gathering the salty taste of mucus in her mouth before firing it as a projectile into the doctor’s pain-twisted face.

Of course, it didn’t take long for the cafeteria guards to intervene.

A tall, burly man grabbed Erin under the arms, causing the teen to squirm and scream and kick out her strong legs like a caged mustang. Another guard - scrawny and puny compared to the one behind her - earned a rightful kick to the stomach when coming around to grab at her feet. But she couldn’t fight forever, she was exhausted. So with the fanfare of her shrieking and whooping inmates to play her out, her legs were grabbed and she was rushed away flailing and screaming.

She knew where they were taking her. Erin was intimately familiar with solitary confinement.

She hit the concrete with a resentful grunt, immediately righting herself and shuffling to the far wall - knees pulled tight. Her chest hammered and her head spun, limp, lifeless locks of ginger hair framing the fury in her face. She saw the light of the adjacent hallway dim as the door was swung shut, darkness coming with the harsh clang of metal.

Erin screamed until her throat threatened to rupture. Until she succumbed to her exhaustion and slumped against the wall.

She hadn’t always been so cracked. Up until two months ago, she’d been relatively normal… Or, as close to normal as you can get when masquerading as the town’s token gothic outcast.

But that had been before the killings began.

Before her best friend - ex-best friend - made the worst mistake of their lives.

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[pandastern]

Gravity (Bakugou x OC)

Part 3: A Step too far? (past)

Bakugou x Vigilante!OC

Warnings: angst, explicit language, violence

Word count: 2200

Genre: enemies to lovers ; angst ; romance

When a new student makes an entrance, Bakugou has a real bad feeling. There is something about this girl that just doesnt feel right. From the flaming hair to the calculating glint in her green eyes, everything about her just pisses him off.

Little does he know that his fate is intertwined with the person he despises so much, defining his future path in a way he would have never expected.

Maybe it was because class 1A knew Bakugou better than Artemis did, or maybe it was because the little scene she’d caused in the cafeteria hadn’t gone unnoticed, but as she slowly made her way into the ring, all her classmates seemed to hold their breath.

All except for the ash blonde pissy pomeranian with anger issues. Bakugou looked ecstatic.

“Oh, I'm gonna kick your ass so bad you won’t be able to walk for a week!” he hissed.

Judging by his murderous eyes, she figured she was heading straight to a situation any normal person with a normal sense of self-care would want to avoid. Tough luck, though. She wasn’t a normal person. Sometimes she wasn’t even sure if she was a person to begin with.

“Now, now. That almost sounds like a proposition,” she chuckled.

Bakugou’s expression changed. Now he just looked like he wanted to tear her throat out. Lovely.

“Artemis.” Aizawa’s voice interrupted her little moment with Mr Anger Issues. “Neither you nor Bakugou know the other’s quirk. Why is this a perfect example for what you can expect as a Pro Hero, and why is it a good lesson?”

Tearing her eyes away from her opponent, Artemis focused on her teacher again. 

She scoffed. “We need to be ready for any type of quirk because we often go into the field blind. You cannot choose who to face on the battlefield.”

Her nonchalant tone made a brow rise on Aizawa’s usually bored face. A few hairs on the back of her head started to rise. So, her first impression of this man had been correct. He was a dangerous one.

“Correct,” Aizawa replied, pulling out a tablet. “Let's see how you pull your weight, newbie. Begin!”

Artemis took a deep breath and turned her attention back to her opponent. A devilish smirk had spread across Bakugou’s face. He was ready to throw down.

“Come at me!” he roared, his voice booming with confidence. “I'll show you what a real hero can do.”

She narrowed her eyes. The air around her was rather dry, so not much water could be drawn out of it. There were no fountains or bodies of water she could use, nor had she brought any herself. There were, however, trees and grass close to the ring. So, how best to start this?

Judging by what she’d seen of Bakugou, he was so full of himself that he probably didn’t expect much of her. She could draw out the water from the vegetation, but that would turn them into dust. Artemis shook her head. No, Aizawa probably wouldn’t appreciate her destroying school property, even if it was to defend herself.

Her best bet was to move fast and punch Bakugou as hard as she could. Preferably somewhere it really hurt.

Artemis moved. Keeping herself low to avoid exposing an opening, she rushed forward, swinging for his ribs on his right side. Bakugou was quick to read her movements and dodged, trying and failing to grab her by the scruff of her neck. She brought her foot forward and spun out of the way, plunging her elbow into his abdomen. At least, that’s what she thought she was hitting.

Something exploded in her side, sending her flying several feet. White pain exploded in her head as she hit the ground like a sack of flour, too shocked to roll her own body to avoid a harsh landing. The blast had knocked the wind out of her.

What the hell had just happened?

Bakugou’s laugh rang in her ears as she forced herself back onto her feet. Then it dawned on her. The weird scent of nitroglycerin in the cafe finally made sense.

“How’d you like that, fucking loser? Is that all you got?” Bakugou spat at her.

“So, an explosion quirk, huh?” she growled.

“Yeah so what? What do you think you're doing by not using your quirk against me? Do you think you can win like that? I’ll grind you into the dust, just watch!”

The familiar feeling of anger bubbled up in the pit of her stomach. This guy was really starting to piss her off. But he was right. Going against a power that could literally blow her up wasn’t really something she should take lightly. 

Grinding her teeth, Artemis shrugged off her singed jacket and rolled her shoulders. It looked like protecting school property was out the window, then.

“You want my quirk?” she growled. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

Bakugou charged at her, his speed boosted by another blast of his power, but this time Artemis was prepared. Reaching out with her powers, she spun to the side, evading his fist before grabbing hold of the water molecules in the air, a couple of trees and the grass surrounding her. She concentrated the liquid into a powerful blast and sent it racing towards her opponent.

Bakugou was caught of guard, the powerful blast pulling him off his feet, encasing him in a whirlpool and swirling him around like a shirt in a washing machine before smashing him back on the ground on the other side of the ring.

Watching him sputter and shake himself like a doused poodle, Artemis couldn't help but smirk.

“What's wrong, blasty boy?” she cooed, pulling the water back to herself, swirling it around her body like snakes. “Can’t swim?”

Bakugou glared at her, eyes blazing. Artemis could see that she had struck a nerve right there. Perhaps he wasn’t into her nickname. The swirling wisps of water separated from her body and morphed into needles of ice that surrounded her, their sharp spines pointed at Bakugou.

The palms of his hands started to smoke.

“I'm gonna kill you,” he hissed.

Artemis charged. Water and heat clashed as they exchanged blows, explosions scattering her ice needles before she hit him with another blast of water. They couldn’t have been more opposite in character and fighting style. Bakugou moved with the aggression of a hellflame while Artemis danced away, spinning, dodging his swings and landing her own blows in between blasts.

That was when she noticed something: the angrier this guy got, the hotter and faster his blasts came. The downside to her quirk was that she never had an infinite amount of water to draw upon, unless of course it was raining or she was fighting in a body of water. With every blast of Bakugou’s explosion more and more water evaporated. Damnit. If she didn’t get him on his knees soon, she’d run out of a means to protect herself, let alone attack. She had to admit, Katsuki Bakugou was an outstanding fighter.

“Where the hell do you think you’re looking?” A booming voice behind her ripped her out of her thoughts. How the hell had he gotten behind her in just a split second?

White light and heat exploded right in her face, hurling her through the air for a second time. Her body hit the ground with a nasty smack and she wheezed. The impact of her fall had squeezed the air out of her lungs and for a moment the world went blurry.

Bakugou breathed heavily as he watched the flame-haired girl writhe on the ground,struggling to take a breath. He had to give it to her, she was tough. Her quirk was something he’d never seen before. Where had she got all that water from in the first place? Then he noticed the dried up trees close by, along with big patches of dried up grass. Even the ground was cracked as if it hadn’t rained in years. Had she pulled it out of her surroundings like that? 

He heard Artemis curse as she struggled to her feet, and he narrowed his eyes. That last blast should have been enough to give her a proper concussion, and yet here she was back up on her knees, trying to steady herself. The water around her sprung alive again, swirling around her body protectively.

Her red hair had sprung free of its hair tie, falling wild and messy around her face. Then he noticed a good patch of the right side of her hair had been burned off by the heat of the blast.

He watched as Artemis slowly pushed a hand into her wild locks and pulled a good chunk of melted hair out of her bird’s nest.

Laughter bubbled up in his chest. “Well, seems like you finally got a nice haircut! Keep this up and you won’t have to worry about that crazy colour of yours.”

Artemis didn’t move. She just stared at the chunk of hair in her hand as if she were struggling to process what had just happened.

“What’s wrong, carrot head?” Bakugou taunted. “Have you had enough? Are you gonna cry about it like a little bitch?”

For a moment, the whole world seemed to stand still. Slowly, the girl rose to her feet. Then her eyes met his.

A chill ran down Bakugou’s spine, and he took a step back. There was a look in her freaky green eyes that made his stomach churn, as if a switch had been flipped and in front of him was no longer a 15 year old girl but something different, something wrong. Artemis’ eyes held no emotion. No humanity. Just a cold and endless void. There was death in her eyes.

His death.

A strange sensation bubbled up in his gut, making him shiver. Run… He had to run. Everything in him screamed to turn away and forfeit the fight, yet he couldn't move. He was like a deer in headlights waiting to be charged.

Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet started rumbling. The concrete cracked, then broke wide open as water tendrils shot through the stone, grabbing at him.

“Fuck!” he gasped. 

He propelled himself into the air, trying to evade whatever hell this girl had summoned. The water followed him up, encircling him like a snake, wrapping around his body, choking him, crushing him, extinguishing his explosions and rendering him helpless. Was she gonna drown him?

Then his eyes met hers again. Artemis was standing calmly where he’d last seen her. Her eyes were completely focused on him with a determination that made his blood freeze. In her hands was a bow made of swirling water, and she was aiming an arrow right between his eyes.

Bakugou tried to struggle against his restraints, tried to break free. He knew Artemis would shoot him without hesitation. This girl wanted him dead. Fear made his head spin. There was no way out, no way out!

The sound of a bowstring being released and an arrow slicing through air made his stomach drop. As if in slow motion, he saw the deadly projectile race towards him, ready to split his head like an overripe apple. All he could do was close his eyes and wait for the impact.

“Enough!” 

Aizawa’s voice echoed through the training ground.

The feeling of a sudden vaccum of power made Artemis’ stomach turn. Her knees buckled and she sank to the floor, shaking.

The red mist of rage that had made her feel so incredibly hazy started to clear, and slowly feeling returned to her. The sound of human voices, the echo of hearts shaken up by fear, pounded in her ears.

What had happened? The last thing she remembered was Bakugou’s blast sending her flying, the pain of having the wind knocked out of her, a handful of burned hair… and rage. Cold, deadly rage.

“F-fuck,” she rasped and curled up, trying not to vomit.

When she finally managed to look up, her eyes met the red ones of her teacher.

“This is a training session. A non-lethal training session!” he snarled.

She didn’t know what to say to that. Disgust bubbled up inside of her as she looked around and saw the carnage she’d created. Somehow in her rage, her quirk had taken control of the water that was running underground through pipes and had burst them, forcing the water upwards to attack bakugou.

The ash blond boy was on his hands and knees, sputtering and gasping for air.

Artemis realised that she’d gone too far.

She needed to get out. She needed to get away.

“I-im sorry… I… I’m sorry,” was all she managed to stutter.

Bakugou was being helped back onto his feet by a boy with spiked up red hair. His eyes met hers. The look in his crimson eyes told her everything she needed to know.

Artemis’ heart almost stopped. If Aizawa hadn’t stepped in, then she’d have… No… No.

“The class is dismissed,” the teacher growled. “Everyone go home. Bakugou, go get yourself checked out. As for you…”

But Artemis was gone. Aizawa’s eyes scanned around, catching a glimpse of red hair just before it disappeared behind a building. A groan rumbled in his chest. He’d have to go after her later. For how, he had to explain to the principal why the training grounds were in shambles. Fun. Why did he always end up with the most troublesome kids?

Something stirred in his gut as he remembered the look in Artemis’ eyes before she’d snapped. There was no denying it. Something wasn’t quite right with that girl.

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

As the Feathers Drift Along the Winds of War - Snippet

Here guys, have a snippet of the one shot I’m working on. It’s finally coming along. Tagging @priestess-accursed-heir because you’re responsible for this one.

“You alright?” asked Libertus and dropped his hands. Clumps of dark earth fell to the ground.

Nyx winced in pain as he twisted his arm to try and see how big the damage was. “Fuck this hurts. I'll live, big guy. At least long enough until Selena gets her hands on me.”

Libertus barked a laugh. “The only reason your sister let you go this time was because you were supposed to be part of our suppressive fire. It's your own damn fault this happened,” he grouched and motioned towards Nyx' injured arm.

“It's not my fault I ran out of bullets,” he grumbled with no real heat behind it.

“Hey Libs! Move your ass over here and help us redistributing the supplies!” called Crowe from next to a toppled crate that was nearly as tall as she was.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm coming!” he yelled back and after one last look to make sure Nyx would keel over the next second, marched over towards her muttering something about impatient little sisters.

Nyx couldn't help the grin forming on his face at the scene. It morphed into a pained grimace as he bent down to pick up his fallen blade. The movement made his head spin uncomfortably. He straightened back up, both blades back in their sheaths and looked for Ladone. Her son-in-law was a Patientia, so she was most likely to carry something with her that would at least help with the pain.

He found her arguing with Radis Arra, a gekkan of a man with wild black hair and a thick beard. It was nearly comical how much taller he was than her.

“- don't see why we can't just...,” sounded the deep bass voice of the man as Nyx made his way over.

“Namakar Najad,” he spoke up with far more politeness in his tone than he usually would.

“Oirkar Ulric,” she acknowledged with a slight dip of her head. She frowned when she saw his arm. “You better get that looked at.”

From her look alone Nyx could tell that she knew he hadn't remained behind cover and would have words for him later. He very carefully didn't look down in an admission of guilt and nodded. Ladone sighed and dug through the pouch at her hip. It was made out of sturdy leather adorned with colourful embroidery in the form of dancing fishes made out of simple never ending knots. She pulled out a small vial made out of clay and handed it to him.

“Drink that,” she commanded. “It'll take the edge off until we get back.”

Nyx nodded his thanks and gulped down the bitter concoction within. The taste was as bad as the smell and reminded him of the fertilizer the farmers used. It trickled down his throat in a cool wave that quickly found its way down his arm, ebbing the pulsing pain until he could bend his arm without getting dizzy.

“If I have help with the harness, I can still pull one of the supply carts,” he offered.

There were two glaring problems with their new cargo: One, the crates the Niffs used were too heavy to move efficiently, and two, they wouldn't fit into the tunnels anyway. So they had their own carts waiting in the nearby tunnel to transport everything to the nearest hideout and distribute it from there.

Ladone looked him over in consideration and then shook her head. “No. You go ahead with the other wounded that can still walk on their own.”

Nyx hid his disappointment as best as he could, but he didn't think he quite managed. Ladone turned back to Radis as the man huffed.

“And we're down another pair of hands. Damn it, Ladone. At this rate it'll take us well into the night to redistribute everything on the carts and I don't want to be caught out here by either Niffs or daemons,” Radis practically growled.

Ladone looked him straight into the eyes. The intimidation factor wasn't diminished in the slightest by the fact she had to look up. “A job well done takes its time, Radis. You of all people should know that,” she practically spat at him and stalked away.

[just-emotionalistic]

“I didn’t mean the things I said” prompt for your feral pairing? 😅

For miscellaneous angst starters.

!!! Okay! I did it! It took super long but I have done it! It’s also really bad because I’m not the best at writing but here we go!Word count: 1,713

Edit: I should probably note I didn’t put as much effort into this as I could of, I haven’t been feeling particularly inspired with writing lately and I find I tend to rush it and try to put unimportant filler in a lot ;; oh well

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It started with a few simple words.

They were exhausted, they had been trekking across merciless ground for days, carrying the dead in carts behind them. The injured that could walk hobbled along beside them, painfully slow, those who couldn’t had to be carried on the backs of the uninjured, or sat on top of the piles of their deceased friends in the carts.

It was a gruesome scene. And by the Qun it reeked. The scent of death made a trail behind them as they traveled, and under the ruthless heat of the sun the smell would gather around them and cling to their clothes, mixing with the sweat that coated their skin. Flies swarmed around them constantly, delighting in their pain.

Lokhultaar remembered that if it weren’t for a sudden change in the weather that had rain soaking them through to the bone that was so cold it felt like little stinging needles hitting their skin, they would have continued that way through the night. It was uncomfortable, but a relief from the heat, as they stopped and began to set up the tents. The injured tent went up first, then a tent for the dead, not that they’d mind, but the humans preferred if their late comrades were respected and kept to be returned to the families, for burial.

Not that it made much difference to her. All that mattered at that time was the warmth of the fire Vivienne so kindly made in the centre of the tent she shared with her companions. Their clothes were hung to the back of the tent, small balls of controlled flame drifting around them, bobbing as if to some kind of tune. Sometimes, she forgot how frightening Vivienne’s grasp of control with magic was. Moments like this reminded her.

There was light banter going around the group, subdued smiles, but they didn’t do much to break through the tension in the air. Even Sera’s dirty jokes were a blunt knife against frozen butter.

Sera…

It all happened too quickly, then. There were shouts, a horn blowing, feet scuffling loudly against the rough ground outside the tent. They didn’t have time to pull on their armour, barely enough to receive their weapons as they rushed to confront the commotion.

She remembered there were Red Templars; a group of about 15 maybe? They outnumbered them but- they were tired. It was a calculated strike.

Everything after that was shown in flashes; two of their soldiers falling for every Red Templar felled, burning flames and searing ice, three arrows missing her head by just an inch and embedding themselves in the eyes and mouth of her target.

Turning, seeing Sera, wild, alone and cornered, out of arrows, out of space, out of time-

“SERA!”

And there was red, so much red.

Too much.

The red of the crystals, ugly and jagged, pulsing with screaming anger. The red of blood, blood on their swords, blood on the ground, blood-

Red as the elf dropped her bow, the hand of her preferred arm still clinging to the grip as it collided with the ground.

There wasn’t else she remembered after that, a hysteric scream of pain, followed by a scream of fury. Rage. The bodies of the red templars bloodied, mutilated and mangled, collapsed at her feet. Bloodshot eyes, tears, blood. Desperately trying to piece her arm back together, shaking, lost.

And her words.

She never quite remembered exactly what she said.

~~

She woke in a cold sweat, finding the blankets had been tossed off during the night. Light hadn’t reached the horizon yet. Her body ached under the cold winter air that filtered through her windows, and, like the past few days, she had woken alone, spurred from sleep from the same dream, the same memory, she had been for about a week since they returned. She leaned her chin on her fist and stared blankly at the light streaks that broke the ashy colour of her skin, laughing bitterly at the pain of the stitches on her stomach pulling.

It was almost like this was some stupidly cruel joke.

It was too hard to not take it as one.

The break of dawn set her in motion, standing and making her usual routine, it went by like clockwork. Wash, replace the bandages, dress, make rounds through Skyhold, saying good morning to any who would be awake, and make way to the tavern to talk to-

Sera.

Her feet hooked around each other and forced her to stop at the training ring, she played it off as stopping to make sure the soldiers weren’t slacking off.

Maryden’s lulling melodies filtered through the walls of the tavern, accompanying the clang of steel against steel as they trained, the scent of sweat clung to the air like a bad memory. She offered them a nod of approval, not sure if they even saw it, before turning on her heel and striding into the tavern.

It went quiet as soon as she entered. The tension was incredible. Nervous chatter resumed as she climbed the first set of stairs, another argument was bound to happen, they were as sure as she. Sera was many things, and insanely stubborn was one of them.

She spun on the final step, turning to face Sera’s door. It was closed, big, red letters scrawled over it. She didn’t take the time to read it.

“You are still hurting?”

She leaned on the railing beside where the spirit had appeared, sitting and swinging his legs like a child.

“Thank you so much for telling me that I am Cole, I had no idea.” She offered him a tight smile. “Are you going to diagnose my problems for me again today?”

And there was silence between them.

“She is hurting.” His voice was quiet, distant.

“Yeah, no shit.”

“She replays the words you said over and over in her mind, and she wants them to make her feel more hurt but everything inside her is silent fury at a meaning that she doesn’t know wasn’t meant. You made her feel small, she thinks you once made her feel everything, and now she feels nothing. She is afraid of it. She wants you to apologize-”

“And I want you to get out of her head.” She pushed herself back up off the railing and facing the door, not sure if she was right enough to do what she needed to. “Aren’t there sick and dying people that you can go help?”

The spirit just looked at her with a distant, sad expression. It made her hair stand on end. And then he was gone.

“Right, I can do this…” She took a deep breath, lifting her fist to knock-

“Can’t you read the door? Go away!”

A sigh.

“I’m coming in anyway.” The hinges whined loudly as she pushed the door open, and she stepped in. She wasn’t about to hesitate this time.

“Well you’re a right arse, ain’t'cha? I told you to go away.” The elf sat cross legged on her table, carving out shafts for her arrows. She couldn’t make their eyes meet.

“We have to talk.”

“Right, just like we had ta talk the last 5 times. We didn’t end up doing much talking.”

“Sera, I-”

“Don’t say it.”

It was just like the last time.

“I’m sorry, about what I said.”

The music seemed to fade away as the words left her mouth. A lump formed in her throat. Sera stopped carving, and leaned back, holding herself up with her arms behind her, finally meeting her gaze. Her knife still in her right hand. Lokhultaar didn’t miss how her arm looked a bit wonky, her gaze caught on the line of stitches that went around her elbow. Her stomach dropped.

“Well, then, that just makes everything better, don’t it?”

Her voice was bitter. There was silence. She continued.

“But that’s just it, innit? You types think you can go and make shit wrong and then just up and say "sorry!” and somehow everything will be fixed. Sorry to burst your bubble, but that ain’t how it works, Inky.“

"I didn’t know that-”

“Right, that’s another perfectly fine excuse! "I didn’t know this!” and “I didn’t know that!”, like it makes up for what you said.“

She didn’t know how to respond. Sera’s face was hard, her expression resigned, but there was a slight tremble to her lips as they moved.

"Sera-” the elf went to interrupt, but Lokhultaar spoke quickly, “I can’t explain if you won’t let me speak!”

And for the first time in their encounters, Sera was quiet.

“I am sorry. I know it means less than nothing,” she spoke quickly, something painful cracking through her voice and making it hard to form her words, “but by the Qun, Sera! You could have died! I was worried, I was angry, I got scared, I wasn’t thinking- I know I can make this stupid fucking excuses all day and you probably wouldn’t believe me but you could have fucking died! You are everything to me, and I nearly lost you! I- I don’t know what I’d do if-!”

She stopped. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried.

She couldn’t remember ever seeing Sera cry, either.

Her voice broke.

“I-I’m sorry-”

For once, there were no words said in response, just the sound of music as time started around them again. Just Sera pushing herself off the table and closing the distance between them. Just the feeling of the callouses on her small hand as she rested it in Lokhultaar’s cheek.

And just that scowl breaking into that uneven, impish smile that she loved to see. And as Sera snorted her beautiful, broken laugh, she couldn’t help but chuckle a bit too. She had no idea what they were laughing at.

“B-by Andraste’s holy knickers we’re both frikkin idiots!” Sera howled, furiously trying to scrub the tears of laughter from her eyes. Her laughter was cut short by a cry of suprise as her legs were swooped out from her, and she was pulled up into Lokhultaar’s arms.

“Now, are you going to keep being a hard ass or can we go back to my bed? It’s too early to be awake.”

AND I DON’T FEEL LIKE WRITING ANYMORE SO HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

[deonisms]

━━ ( booboo stewart + cis male + twenty one ) oi , have you seen deon damgaard around he lives in flat 14 in bedroom 2 ? i was meant to meet them this morning at bean me up before our lecture but he didn’t show . no ? well , shit . if you do see them , can you tell them i’m looking for them ? they’re a 3rd year robotics engineering student from gainesville, florida & you’ll know it’s them because they might just remind you of the faint smell of something burning, the restless clicking of a tongue piercing against teeth, boisterous laughter muffled by thin walls, dark circles combined with blindly bright grins, the warmth of overheating machinery . just be careful, he can be a little tactless, gullible & mercurial sometimes . —- oh don’t look like that , they’re usually eccentric, innovative & intuitive most of the time . ✏ pepper , twenty three, she/her, est

ABOUT THE MUN. hey demons, it’s ya gurl pepper

djkdsjk hello it is me again,,, simply out here being a slave to my own inspiration. honestly, i love ismael but i was torn between him, theo, and deon before apply for this rp and i am just feeling deon a bit more atm. i might still bring ismael in later as my third muse but for now it’s going to be all chaotic energy with one mr. deon! but omg okay a bit about me, i love the bachelor/bachelorette so hit me up if you want to mourn the death of pilot pete’s last braincell. i have a yorkie who literally runs my household as she should. i am honestly a hoe for a good aesthetic, like pinterest runs my ass. and i love sparkling water, which is controversial i know but perrier? god. fuck me up.

BIO. i need a himbo! i’m holding out for a himbo at the end of the night! he’s gotta be strong, and he’s gotta be fast, and he’s gotta be dumb and polite! suicide tw, depression tw, death tw !!!

Deon Damgaard was born from a tryst of passion. In other words, an affair. A very exciting affair, if that makes things any better. Said affair was between his mother, a talented young pianist, and his father, an influential, very much married businessman. You see, his father saw his mother play once and instantly fell in love. He came to every single one of his mother’s performances after that, and every time he did he left her flowers. Extravagant, beautiful flowers, the kind of flowers that make an impact on a woman, apparently. And they must have, because before long Deon’s mother was falling just as in love with Deon’s father as he was with her. And obviously you know what happens next. Deon.

Now, the thing about passionate love affairs is that they’re love affairs for a reason. There’s the love part of course. But there’s also the affair part. And that’s where things get complicated. Because despite being utterly, and completely in love with Deon’s mother, his father was still married. And he had no intention of ending his marriage, even for love.

But Deon’s mother didn’t know that at first. You see, Deon has inherited his mother’s easy optimism. The woman was in love and she believed with absolute surety that the love of her life would ultimately choose her. And so she waited for that day. And waited. And waited.

She spent most of the first few years of Deon’s life waiting, but the longer she waited the less Deon’s father even bothered to come around. The thing with falling in love hard and fast is that you can fall out of love just as quickly. And that’s exactly what Deon’s father did. He fell out of love like it was nothing.

So there was Deon’s mother, with a baby she shared with a man who didn’t love her anymore. One that carried his last name against his wishes, one that even had the name that he’d said he’d always wanted to give a son. One that she loved, truly. But that love wasn’t enough. Because Deon’s mother was in pain. More pain than a little baby like Deon could understand. Enough pain to end her own life.

Deon was six at the time. Not old enough to know what the big deal was, but old enough to understand that something was wrong. Especially when he  quickly found himself in an orphanage. His father never claimed him of course. Deon doesn’t even know if he mourned his mother. Or if he wanted to come to her funeral. All he knows is that he wasn’t there.

There’s not much to be said after that, or at least nothing as poetic as the beginning. Deon was put into the foster system and he was never really wanted again. Well. Maybe that’s not completely true. The truth is no one ever wanted to adopt him. But he always hoped someone would. He’d be passed from family to family to family, bright eyed and hoping like the optimistic child he was. But they never wanted him. Some said he was too hyper. Others said he was too curious. More than a few just said he was too odd, and Deon always found that strange. That he was too odd to keep. Too odd to love.

Of course most of them didn’t expect Deon to be eavesdropping when they said these things so Deon couldn’t really fault them. They didn’t mean to hurt him. And so she could never truly hate them. He couldn’t find it in his heart to. But it was painful, to get his hopes up each time only to have them dashed away. Whether that be by being tossed aside like nothing but a nuisance or tossed around like nothing but a rag doll. It always hurt to seek love and give love and yet never get any in return.

The bright side in Deon’s eyes was that at least he never made any friends. Because could you imagine how hard that would be? To pack your bags and have to say goodbye to your family and friends every time? It’d be too much to bear. So Deon counted his blessings. There weren’t many but he cherished the ones he had.

One of which was school. Deon didn’t have much at all, but at the very least he had school. Because everything had a price. Toys. Food. Even families (Deon wasn’t completely ignorant to the fact that his families got paid just to take care of him. For a lot of them that was the only reason they kept him around in the first place.) but school? School was free, and he adored it. Okay, maybe not all of it. English and foreign languages and god, history, all of that was painfully boring. But science? Science was the one thing that he had to look forward to throughout most of his childhood. And it continued to be that one thing into his young adulthood.

The majority of Deon’s said young adulthood was spent sporadically behind bars. Let’s just say Deon fell into the wrong crowd. It wasn’t on purpose, Deon has just and likely always will be the kind of person who is eager for friendship. All these kids had to do was be even slightly nice to him and ‘sure, man! i can totally hotwire that car for you!’. That’s not to say Deon was completely innocent himself. Most of his arrests for theft, graffiti, and street racing, were products of his own doing. But sometimes, Deon just happened to be the guy abandoned at the scene of the crime. He never gave up his friends, no matter what the cops threatened him with, but he unfortunately never had the privilege of having his loyalty returned.

Deon stayed out of juvie by the skin of his teeth. It was mostly due to the fact that he lived in a lot of different small towns for majority of his adolescence. Deon could usually endear the small town sheriffs to him with his incessant chatter, and well meaning demeanor. He honestly made friends with more than a few of the cops that had arrested him, and there are more than a few that Deon would still call up today and chat with.

Despite his dabbling in crime, Deon graduated from high school with an almost spotless GPA and partial scholarships to more than a few universities including Harvard, MIT, Yale. Deon was kind of startled by all of the offers, but he did have more than a few projects during his years of schooling that caught the universities attention (including making a car that ran on used vegetable oil, a charger that could charge your phone to completion in less than a minute, etc). But with all the offers, Deon picked Larnswick. Why? Well, mostly because he’d never been on a plane but also because he picked his university by playing eenie meenie miney mo dkdskj

Deon showed up to flat 14 with one pretty light suitcase, a rat in his hand, and a beaming grin despite being in a new strange country. He’s here on a full scholarship, but doesn’t really have any money of his own so he works a lot of jobs, or rather he gets fired from a lot of jobs. Every month or so you can see Deon in a new uniform for a new establishment, and every once in a while Deon will tell you the wild story of how he got fired from said establishment. Honestly he could really do well in a job as a handyman, but jsdkj he hasn’t thought of that yet. 

HEADCANNONS. if i get shot do i own the bullet? like can i keep it?

fun fact, i originally made deon as an npc in a house party para i was doing with my friend sdkjsdjk he was genuinely made to be as annoying as possible but then my friend actually really liked him so now he’s a whole ass muse. that said if he is annoying... it’s because he was legit designed to be i’m sorry folks sdkjdskj fingers crossed he’s not though! but grating traits he has: never stops talking man, says man, dude, bruh, and bro, constantly. CONSTANTLY. you’ll be having a conversation with him and he’ll just blurt out something completely off topic??? HE’S SO LOUD TOO! And incredibly inappropriate god

that said deon was also inspired by jason mendoza and i literally teared up writing that because i’m pmsing so sdkjsdkj let’s move on!

has a septum piercing, a tongue piercing, a smiley piercing, a nipple piercing on his left nipple and several tattoos, most of which he’s done himself after buying a tattoo gun (honestly you shouldn’t let deon tattoo you because he just does whatever comes to him at the time but also LET DEON TATTOO YOU!). honestly probably has more than a few earrings too, and he’s very proud of all of his piercings honestly. 

loves colour and neon especially, but also loves to wear a lot of black like he’s a whole ass mess. his favourite colour is yellow btw. generally just wears what he likes, but he pretty much never looks polished. 

his favourite number is 0!

wears a lot of rings and jewelry as well, you will rarely find your boy without something on his fingers.

has a rat named titty boy that he calls titty for short. his name is titty boy because he only eats hot cheetos and likes to watch the real house wives. as sad as it sounds he was one of deon’s first genuine friends so he loves him like BIG. takes him everywhere like he usually has him in his bag at lectures. titty can be found scurrying around the flat having the time of his life at any given moment that deon is in there.

built a little helper bot and named him douche bag, or rather deebs for short. also loves him big. deebs is constantly getting updated by deon honestly, but your boy actually probably won a prize when he made him because he’s actually?? very like advanced for what he is (he runs on used oil from fast food chains, has a near nonexistent carbon footprint, facial recognition, etc). deon literally made him so that he could help him remember to take his pills (deon has clinical depression and adhd unfortunately, so he needs deebs around to give him that nudge), and he can do that and more now. deon kind of wants to see if he can break him into the service animal industry, cause he figures he could be good for people who need service animals but have allergies to fur.

gets around, mostly because he is attracted like everybody and feels no qualms about telling them that? and omg he’s another muse of mine that’s bi btw, no one is surprised. but honestly isn’t really a player just cause he’s too dumb to be one man. like if he was suppose to call you and he didn’t he literally just forgot sdkjsdkj

does not talk about himself at all! ever! like legit learning anything about deon’s past is like pulling teeth! 

like i said deon has depression, but like most people probably don’t know that because again,, your boy is close lipped. that said he doesn’t try to hide it, like if you see him taking his pills you see him taking his pills. there are times though that deon will just not be found for a week or two when his depression gets bad and usually at those times his door will be locked and will not open for the entirety of that week like MAYBE at night when everyone is asleep so he can pee but that’s it! he usually emerges from these occasions chill and chipper as he usually is with sdkmds absolutely no mention of it. i don’t know if he has any friends he’s close enough to that he’d talk to about that though you know, like honestly from deon’s perspective *deon vc* i don’t wanna bring anybody down, man...

says man and bro and bruh and dude WAY TOO MUCH like they punctuate most of his sentences sdkdjs

surfer dude energy. skater dude energy. stoner dude energy.

smokes A LOT of weed. LOVES to party! that guy you see at every house party and have to wonder like??? how is he passing ANY of his classes sdkjsdj

honestly when i usually write deon he’s an MIT graduate so dskjds he definitely got an offer from there that he casually responded to like ‘oh shit, thanks man, but i’m cool!’ sdkjdsjk also probably has gotten more than a few offers to work at like google but refuses to work there until every image that shows up for the search ‘donald trump’ is just the angry orange. it’s his own negotiating point and he refuses to budge on it.

sometimes you can catch deon sitting in his car blasting sara barailles and crying in the university parking lot.

and finally, in ode to ismael,,, deon has a crush on claire from the bon appetit test kitchen. like he wants to marry her. his twitter is just nonsense stream of consciousness stuff and then occasionally ‘@clairesaffitz MARRY ME CLAIRE’. people have probably tried to point out to him that claire doesn’t have a twitter but deon always forgets djhddfjk

knows all the words to TLC’s waterfalls and will sing it to completion whenever it’s on.

will come to your flat and like fix your heater if it’s acting up. literally just hail deon down if you need anything fixed and he will do it for literally nothing. he just likes to help, and to be wanted around tbh rip

swears A TON omg i almost forgot deon swears constantly dkjds he doesn’t see a problem with it honestly, and he’s never like angrily swearing honestly it’s usually excited swearing but sdkjsdkj he’s a potty mouth nonetheless and if your muse doesn’t swear deon will pay them money to do it despite being BROKE. “will you say fuck for a dollar?” sdkjdsj despite the fact that he’s in england rip. 

PERSONALITY. do u are have stupid? hell yeah brother!

honestly one of my most kindhearted muses. like deon wouldn’t hurt a FLY! he catches spiders in his hands and takes them outside sdkjsdk. like even if you’re a dick to deon he will still be nice to you! never gets mad at ANYBODY, like it’s so rare to see deon pissed man he has the heart of a surfer dude

just freaking says things man. doesn’t think before he says anything ever. no brain to mouth filter at ALL.

that said he’s a lot smarter than he looks and acts skjdsj but he’s also so stupid, it’s a bit contradictory honestly because deon is a DUMBASS! but he be knowing things man i can’t explain it. like he has no brain to mouth filter but like if you tell deon a secret no one is ever going to know. 

PAINFULLY loyal to his friends like to a fault! even if you betray deon or abandon him he legit will not do the same to you, like if you were ever his friend you will be his friend until the day he dies. 

generous. would give the shirt off his back to someone if they needed it

humble? like deon knows he’s good at what he does because people keep telling him that but he doesn’t do it because he’s good at it he does it because he thinks it’s fun and like rewarding, like seeing deebs beeping around just makes him happy.

doesn’t have a competitive bone in his body when it comes to academic success or professional success but when it comes to mario kart or ddr or tWISTERand suddenly nothing else matters in the world

lowkey still desperately wants friends and to be accepted, and cares a lot more about what people think of him than he lets on, rip

you absolutely could manipulate deon whenever you wanted to, he would skdjdsjk probably never catch on man. it’s like ‘fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, come on man... fool me THREE TIMES?? bro.’ dkjdskj

lowkey sad sometimes because it be like that, but he will hide it the minute there’s someone around him. 

one of those muses that is like... are you pretending to be dumb or are you really that dumb? and like legit i don’t even know the answer man and i’ve never actually got to play him long enough to find out so i’m hype for that!

WANTED CONNECTIONS. *tries to crowd surf at a ted talk*

BROS. give deon some a group of close guy friends he will adore them with everything in him!

A NEIGHBOR THAT’S ANNOYED BY HIM. whether you’re trying to get inside and deon is talking your ear off about the toe he found in his subway sandwich, or it’s just the damn loud music he’s always playing (if you hear cotton eyed joe at two am, it’s definitely deon) you have a right to be annoyed by him. you are valid. 

CONFIDANTE. despite the amount deon likes to talk he’s actually a really good listener and will keep all your secrets forever! so confide in him man, he’s got you. or the other way around someone deon feels like he can confide in and talk to?? a concept. 

EXES. give me someone who broke his heart! i’ve never gotten to play brokenhearted deon but it would be fun. or someone who’s heart he accidentally broke, honestly he wouldn’t know it until it was too late sdkjsdkj.

CRUSH. give me someone who has a crush on deon that he is completely oblivious to. give me someone who deon has a crush on that he doesn’t know what to do with! honestly for the most part deon is either very blunt and forward or awkward and dumb with a crush, but either way it will be entertaining for all involved. 

DAD FRIEND/MOM FRIEND. deon is a whole mess honestly, and he just needs someone who will make sure he doesn’t die you know? because he’s used to taking care of himself generally but he really will get himself into dangerous situation because he’s just stupid. some random stranger offers deon crack at a music festival? deon will take it! it’s so nice that they offered him some! *deon vc* yoooo, thanks man!

ENEMY. i just find it funny that deon wouldn’t know they are enemies. he’d wave to them and say hi and they’d be like I HATE YOU and he’d laugh like it’s a joke dkjdsk it’d be very one sided but very entertaining. 

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS. deon has traveled all around america so give this to me friends! could even be friends from high school or something or middle school, whatever it is i’m game. 

FWB. just really chill buds who also have sex. deon will try to high five them after sdkjdsjk maybe someone involved is catching feelings or maybe they’re just going to always be friends who have seen each other naked, and you know what that’s okay too. 

alright that’s all i’ve got for now friends, because i’ve been up since 7am and i am slowly losing steam sdkjs but we can always brainstorm! like this and i’ll slip and slide into your dms!

[dboliklover]

Easter Smut - #3 - Ayato

Happy Easter! <3 Also, 

WARNING: THIS IS SMUT AND SEXUAL, READ AT OWN RISK

Warning: This includes a short scene of a nasty man trying to pick Reader up in a club. This does not go anywhere beyond making Ayato possessive, but being approached by a man in a club might be triggering for some.

Ayato - public sex, marking, messy sex, impregnation, Orgasm-denial,  soft-core Yandere (Possessive tendencies, jealousy - not overly yandere, it’s relatively subtle-ish) 

It was supposed to be an ordinary date for you and Ayato. You had been dating for the past two years, and things were going swimmingly between you both. You really did love him, even if sometimes he tended to be a tad of a handful to deal with.

Soon, however, you realised that an ‘ordinary date’ would not occur. Your beloved vampire had taken you out to the club, not the most romantic place for a date but it was just like Ayato to take you there. You didn’t really mind it either, because as long as you got to spend time with him, there was no reason to desire anything more ‘classy’ - You’d known Ayato long enough to know that he was anything but classy. For the most part, it was fun and enjoyable. Letting loose from a difficult week as you had fun and danced with the one you loved, as you move your bodies together along to the upbeat music of the nightclub, his hands pulling you close to him, sweaty bodies almost touching, the alcohol you’d both consumed invoking a cloud of haziness within your minds, focusing on the music and each other. Strangely, in the middle of a crowded, heated nightclub you and your lover found unusual serenity.

Unfortunately, that serenity couldn’t last, as you soon pulled away in a daze of sudden dizziness and excused yourself to sit at the bar, assuring him you’d be back soon and he could continue dancing. Ayato seemed hesitant but did as you instructed. Sitting at one of the bar stools, you placed your hand on your increasingly pounding forehead as the loud beats of the music seemed almost distant. Much to your dismay, some disgusting plebeian had decided to sit next to you, unable to resist the chance to pester an attractive young woman such as yourself. As a woman, you had experienced such woes before and knew immediately what this filthy little man was sitting down far too close-for-comfort beside you on the bar stool for. Rolling your eyes you leaned back from your position, ready to turn back and leave only for him to initiate conversation, showing his yellowed teeth. “What’s a pretty young thing like you doing here, all alone?” He inquired, his breath smelling of cheap whiskey - Disappointing, really, especially since everyone knows vodka is the best type of alcohol. You scoffed, about to get up and leave when he grabbed your wrist, prompting you to stay. “What’s the rush, pretty lady?”. Your glare sharpened, as you were about to pull your hand away from his harsh, unwelcome hold when suddenly you felt yourself being practically grabbed from the seat and felt yourself falling into someone’s arms.

You panicked for a moment, before hearing Ayato’s familiar voice. “She’s mine” The way the red-haired vampire growled those possessive words sent shivers of lust down your spine and fear down the spine of the man who surely had a dick smaller than an ant’s. He paled, as he backed off, seeing the way that Ayato’s green eyes seemed to glow in the darkness felt eerie and inhuman. Ayato picked you up and threw you onto his shoulders effortlessly, as he carried you to the alley beside the club. The iciness of the late-night air stimulated the hardening of your nipples in the shorter-than-normal dress you had on your body. Turning to Ayato, you were about to thank him for saving you from that creep when suddenly he pinned you to the alley wall, glaring at you. “You belong to ore-sama…” He uttered darkly, and you would have been lying if you had said that it didn’t cause your core to increase in its arousal. Sometimes, you found his possessiveness to be frustrating, but in times such as these, you found it to be irresistibly erotic. “Ayato…” You muttered his name drunkenly, though much of the alcohol had begun to wear off and you could feel yourself becoming drunk on him more so than drunk on the vodka shots you’d previously downed.

You whimpered, but it was far from being a fearsome whimper, and instead, one of borderline pleading to be dominated by him. You knew that vampires had this ‘hidden’ instinct (though, Ayato did not try to hide this instinct at all) to own and dominate all that they believed belonged to ‘them’. It was oddly endearing, really. However, after two years of being with an especially-possessive vampire as was Ayato, you had discovered the deep urge to submit to him and let him claim you as ‘his’ over and over again. Your rising libido did not help the situation either as all you wanted to do was let the redhead wreck your body until you couldn’t walk for the next three days.

Then he attached his mouth onto your neck, harshly kissing and scraping his fangs against your delicate skin, the sparks of pleasure and pain combining as desire started to fill your mind, tightly shutting your eyes as you felt the sensation of the sharp stinging of your neck. After a while, you struggled to conceal your various moans and mewls, trying your hardest to keep your voice down as you had to keep reminding yourself that you were in a public place, and anyone could easily come into this alleyway and catch the both of you doing sinful deeds.

It seemed Ayato became rather frustrated with your attempts at keeping your volume low, and after about three or four minutes of attacking your neck, he pulled away and glared at you, his eyes sending sexual excitement through your body. When he looked down at the ‘work’ he had done on your neck, he seemed significantly more pleased with himself, humming in approval at the sight of your colourful and love-abused neck, bit and scratched as he had marked you as his very own lover. It was even better for him that he’d made so many of them, as now you had little chance at covering them all up after tonight. Hopefully, these would keep all those creeps away from you.

Before you could rest from the love-biting session your neck had lovingly suffered, Ayato quickly dove back into action as he twisted your body so that your ass was facing him and your face was facing the rough wall of the building. The sound of Ayato unzipping your dress flowed through the sound of the city at night, and the anticipation of what was to come was getting to you. He didn’t unzip the entire dress, and just enough so that he could savagely pull the top of it down along with your bra to reveal your breasts into the darkness of the night, the cold immediately hardening your nipples more than they had already become. The cold of both Ayato’s hands and the night contrasted greatly with your own warm-blooded self as your body tried to warm itself against all the cold. Like an icy snake, you could feel as his hands slithered up your thighs and pulled the bottom of your short dress up so your ass showed. He pushed into you harder, and you were able to feel his growing length on your thigh through his pants. Biting your lip harshly at the rising pleasure you felt from the skin-to-skin connection alone you could feel any resolve you may have had crumbling.

Feeling his fingers circling your clit from under your soaked panties, tiny moans flew from your lipstick-painted lips as the friction between his fingers and your sensitive bud flourished. “A-Ayato…!” You cried out in a soft, sweet voice as he chuckled. The vampire suddenly ripped your panties off your thighs, throwing their remains somewhere further down the alley as they would soon be forgotten about and left for seasons to pass. His fingers were then shoved inside your boiling core as he pumped his long digits in and out of you at an incredible pace, your mewls of ecstasy becoming gradually louder.

After a few good minutes, you could feel your abdomen tightening and rising to unbearable heat. You were so close to your orgasm. As your lover’s fingers pumped into an out of your aroused body your love juices messily fell onto the concrete ground below you and coated your thighs with a slimy substance. Just as your high was about to hit, you felt Ayato remove his fingers from deep inside you, and the pleasure you felt so close to your high abandoning you. Desperately, you turned to look up at him from behind your shoulder. That beautiful bastard had the most sexually-frustrating grin on his face and you knew you wouldn’t get to cum easily.

Once again, Ayato twisted you around and had you face him, your face flustered and crimson as your makeup was beginning to sweat off your face. “Ayato...please…” Your voice escaped you as you started to beg, though too embarrassed to admit what it was you wanted. “Please what?” Gods, if you weren’t so horny you would have murdered him. After a moment of silence, you swallowed the last remaining fragments of your pride, “Please, fuck me! Claim me as yours…!” Thank the universe that your parents couldn’t hear the way you were speaking right now, or you were sure they’d be eternally ashamed of how much of a horny slut you turned out to be. Ayato darkly laughed, and he pushed your body up against the wall as he thrust himself into your dripping entrance without hesitation, not stopping for a moment as he fucked your brains out. The way your walls clenched around his length was a truly amazing experience for you both. He felt so good inside you, you almost wished he would stay one with you forever. It wasn’t the most romantic setting, but you were living for the wild danger having sex in such a public place brought. It was oddly addicting.

Ayato’s dick pumped in and out of you, and with every thrust, you subconsciously cried out his name, stating proudly who owned your body as he fucked you good and hard. You had absolutely no doubt he’d have to carry you home after this, though, as you were already struggling with your weak, fragile legs. It wasn’t long until your first orgasm, and then your second, third, fourth....you had long ago noticed Ayato seemed to like to play some sort of game with himself to see how many times he could make you cum before he did. Every orgasm you had from him was mind-blowing and that of pure paradise. You had practically lost any track of time, his dick taking your mind off any other matters but him - but you had been sure that you must have been fucking against the wall for almost an hour?

All the while as he muttered into your ear hotly how you were ‘his’ and how you would take his cum like the personal slut you were. Gods, yes! You were his, and you both knew you could never live without him or his cock anymore. His love bites littered your neck, proving Ayato’s ownership over you. Finally, he started to twitch deep inside you, the sticky mess of love juices and precum combining and coating the ground, your clothes and thighs in slimy love as he thrust one last time, his dick kissing your cervix as his thick, delicious cum flowed into your fertile womb. “You..are going to have my...children as the ultimate symbol that every aspect of you belongs to me.” He said in between passionate pants.

- Mod Rozalia ;) Happy Easter~

[neganandblake]

I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 195 - Big Bad Reputation

When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she’s certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit….

Chapter 195 - Big bad reputation

[Negan confronts Charles. Will the man holding the gun be able to make any more threats?]

"...'Cause I'm Negan."

Just three words. That was all the dark-haired man had to utter for the sound of panicked whispers to surround them suddenly.

The man named Charles stared quickly around at his people who all seemed to be shifting on their feet, looking agitated.

For Blake knew that Negan was a notorious spectre even in these parts. Known to everyone for what had to be, hundreds of miles around.

Negan had a big bad reputation. Just his name alone uttered in hushed tones was a thing of grotesque legend, and everyone here had obviously heard what he was capable of.

But while Charles stared around wild eyed, Negan and Blake kept their eyes fixed on him...ready...waiting…

"Stop it!" he hissed out to the couple of men nearest to him. But it was no use. There even came a sudden cry from one of the women behind them as Charles stared her way, lips parted, watching in horror as the integrity of his group fell apart around him.

But he tried to keep his cool as best he could, merely turning back to Negan with a sneer, giving Negan's chest a hard shove with the barrel of his gun.

"Never heard of you," he said, grimacing. "And I really couldn't give a fuck who you are. You see, we're taking your van-"

He nodded towards Lucille, still in Negan's hand.

"-your weapons, and anything else you've got. Now either you hand it all over, or I'm gonna be putting a bullet through both your skulls'."

"Charles!" came a sudden pleading voice from behind them.

Blake glanced around to see a woman in her late fifties, with sand-coloured hair, step out of the surrounding circle of people.

"Please," she continued, her brown eyes full of despereation. "You dont know who this is-"

But Charles cut her off angrily.

"I don't give a fuck who this is, Martha!" he yelled suddenly. He was breathing hard now, his cheeks looking pink. "They either give us what they have, or we kill them. Fair and square. This was the plan."

But Martha wasn't looking at Charales anymore, instead she took a step forward, her eyes darting back and forth between Negan and Blake.

"Please," she said, entwining her fingers before her in a gesture of prayer, and shaking her head. "I am so sorry. If we'd have known who you were we'd have never-"

"Martha, what the fuck are you doing?-" Charles shouted again, sounding furious.

But again the woman ignored him, and this time another man, far younger, with red hair and glasses, nodded feverently, came to stand beside her.

"She's right," he said too, in a pleading voice. "We are so sorry. Truly. Charles...H-He doesn't speak for all of us, I swear. W-We were just desperate. We thought up this stupid plan, and-"

"ENOUGH!" cried Charles, his voice echoing through the clearing, stopping the young boy mid-way through his sentence.

He was breathing hard now through his nose, looking enraged.

He turned back to Negan, wrinkling his nose and baring his teeth.

"Look I don't care who you are, Asshole," he snarled out. "This was supposed to be just a simple grab and go, no one had to get hurt, but, hey, you had to mess things up for yourselves."

Charles looked down at the gun in his hands.

"Now...well….now you haven't given me a choice," he said, his adam's apple sliding down his throat as he gave a hard swallow, before he stared back up at Negan, his beady eyes meeting with the Saviour's dark and angry ones " I guess I'm going to have to kill you both, AND take your shit."

Blake gritted her teeth together furiously at his threat, lowering her chin as he wavered for a second.

"Charles," came the woman named Martha's voice once more, sounding desperate. "Please-"

But Charles spoke over her, never taking his eyes off Negan all the while.

"No, Martha! We stick to the plan!" he said loudly, his finger slowly clenching around the trigger...

But Blake, in that instant, took her chance.

This wasn't going to be the way Negan was going to die. Or her either.

Not by the will of some stupid son-of-a-bitch.

And so, with a roar of anger escaping her lips before she could stop herself, the blonde launched herself forwards, snatching the blade from her belt.

Charles quickly caught her movement, his eyes widening.

And neither Blake nor Negan could do anything as Charles suddenly swung the gun around, pointing it in her direction and pulled the trigger.

But Blake, on this occasion, was lucky.

Very lucky.

For today was not going to be the day she got shot for a second time in just a few short months. Nu-uh.

People screamed all around as several bullets peppered the bonnet of their truck, blowing out one of the headlamps.

But Blake just took this as her opportunity, her long legs closing the gap between her and Charles, her knife plunging into the soft meat of his right flank, just below his armpit, causing him to scream out in pain almost immediately.

But now it was Negan's turn.

And with the man before them momentarily distracted, the dark-haired Saviour grabbed Charles' gun with both hands, causing him to turn back around to face him in panic.

"Oh you'll learn my name, you spinless mother-fucker," Negan growled, as he headbutted Charles, sending him sprawling backwards.

He tripped over his own feet a couple of times and fell to the floor in a heap, now without his gun, clutching his bloodied side and whimpering.

Not one of the people standing around made a move to help him now.

Negan stood up straight, face like thunder as he checked the rounds still left inside the gun in his hands, before looking back up to Blake, who both looked and felt, almost unperturbed by the entire situation.

For she had faced bigger and badder people than Charles in her life. Her ex-fiance alone being one of them.

She felt stronger now.

More confident than she ever had been. And knew that was because of what Negan had built her up to be. What he had given her the chance to become.

"Wow, Peaches, I forgot how much of a goddamn badass you can be!" Negan exclaimed suddenly, turning on his heel to face her.

But Blake merely shrugged.

"You can thank me later for saving your ass," she teased, as Negan raised his eyebrows in interest.

His gaze seemed to rove over her in a protective manner, as if checking for any damage, or hurt inflicted on her, before he looked back up to her face, his chin dipped and his eyes sparkling.

"Well in that case, you want to do the honors, Doll?" Negan said suddenly, holding the gun out towards her.

But Blake took a step into him, before staring over at Charles coolly.

"Hmmmmm, I'm not sure," she uttered in a purring voice, with a wrinkle of her nose, turning back to Negan. "I think this is more a job for Lucille."

The dark-haired man before her was silent from a short moment, before that tell-tale grin suddenly flicked up onto his lips, his eyes flashing with glee.

"Oh, Darlin'," he eased out, pressing the gun into her hand for her to hold and leaning his entire form in towards her, his lips lingering close to her ear. "You have no idea how hard for you I am right now."

And Blake, in spite of the situation they found themselves in, found herself smirking as he pulled back from her, his dark eyes fixed to her green ones.

"Well you can always show me later," she said in a vixen-like tone, causing Negan to run his tongue across his lips for a brief moment, before turning away from her once more.

As Charles lay there whimpering , Blake stepped back, her green eyes glinting here and there, making sure none of the others tried anything. But in their defence, none of them moved, all of them just watching the scene before them unfold in silence. All obviously knowing full well what was about to happen and none of them doing a thing to stop it.

Negan paced over towards the cowering man, dragging a hand tiredly down his bearded face.

"Oh Charlie, Charlie, Charlie," Negan hummed out in a low voice that held the tension everyone was feeling, swinging Lucille from his gloved hand threateningly.

The man on the ground attempted now to drag his sorry form away from Negan's advancing one.

He looked a far cry from the bold and arrogant man threatening both of them just a few short moments ago.

But Blake knew of course that was the effect Negan had on people, even the most strong people often floored, both literally and metaphorically, by the man himself.

"Somehow I'm startin' to think that you ain't got that dick an' balls you were busy swingin' between your legs jus' now," sighed the dark-haired man in a voice full of goading. "Cause' you strollin' on out here like you were king of the fuckin' castle, pointin' a damn AK47 at us, well, I've gotta admit, I was lookin' forward to a good ol' fashioned, all-guns-a-blazin', fight."

Negan gave a grimace now, swinging Lucille haphazardly and pointing it towards Charles' skull.

"But Charlie," the Saviour sighed again, as Charles stared up at him fearfully, not saying a word now. "I am very fuckin' disappointed. See there ain't many people that have the fuckin' balls to stand up to me."

Negan shrugged, glancing over his shoulder back at Blake.

"I mean maybe Peaches here," he continued, turning back towards Charles once more. "But you see she's a fuckin' special exception."

Blake raised both eyebrows and pursed her lips, almost rolling her eyes at how predictable Negan was being right now. Not that she minded too much of course.

"But god-fuckin'-dammit do I miss the thrill of an asshole like you steppin' out of the damn ranks, strollin' on up, threatenin' me. But, shit, jus' like a guy in line for the bathroom after a bad truck-stop burrito…. if only you could've followed the. fuck. THROUGH!"

Negan's now-furious voice rang out loud and echoing through the clearing, sending a small group of birds that had been nesting in a nearby tree, fleeing into the air with a mass of screeching calls.

The sound reverberated for a second as Negan visibly seethed, his square shoulders raised, and his teeth now bared in a look of utter distaste at the man now squirming desperately on the ground before him.

Blake had to admit, she almost felt a little bad for the guy, probably just in too deep. Wanting to stand up and be strong for his people, wanting to help them. Just like any leader would.

And for a split second Blake had half a mind to step forwards and stop Negan from making his next move.

But what Charles did next, made her stop in her tracks suddenly…

"Please," cried the man on the ground in a sudden weak voice, peering up at Negan fearfully, his eyes now wide and his voice full of desperation. "P-Please. None of this should be on me. This wasn't my idea…."

He turned and pointed a shaking hand suddenly in the direction of Martha and the others.

"...it was theirs! P-Please...i-if you want to punish anyone, it should be them. They came up with this plan. Not me. It's them that's to blame for all this."

And suddenly Blake was taken back to a familiar voice who had spoken a set of eerily similar words, back in that dusty Sanctuary lot all those many, many months ago.

Back then the cowardly David had done just what Charles was doing now, trying to backtrack, trying to blame others for his own doing. Trying to get others hurt, to save his own skin.

Blake's blood boiled at this, her eyes becoming all of sudden black.

"You utter fucking asshole," she spat suddenly, marching forward on her long legs, shoving past Negan and pointing the barrel of the gun to Charles' skull.

The man before her whimpered, holding his hands aloft.

But Blake had had enough.

She looked up to Negan to at her side, her green eyes meeting with his.

"We done here?" she asked simply.

And Negan gave a knowing nod, grimacing and stepping easily back.

"Oh we sure are, Peaches," Negan murmured out, knowing exactly what Blake was about to do.

And the blonde, with eyes full of utter hatred for the man on the ground before her, merely uttered out a low "good" before firing the gun into the man's skull.

The kickback of the gun jolted her shoulder hard, as blood and viscera spurted out of the back of Charles skull tearing it easily apart.

The brown haired man seemed to flounder there for a moment with a vacant expression before collapsing onto his side. Dead.

Everything seemed to fall silent after that, as Blake gave a sniff, lowering the gun and turning to face Negan.

But the dark-haired Saviour was already staring back at her, his gaze a little questioning.

"Reminded me too much of someone I used to know," Blake explained, before pursing her lips.

And Negan immediately seemed to understand, blinking with recognition of just who she could have been talking about.

"Prick had it comin'," he growled. "Both pricks actually."

The blonde woman gave a small sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as Negan leaned into her once more.

"Jus' wanna let you know though," he said in a meaningful voice. "Your ass looked fuckin' incredible when you were blowin' a hole through ol' Charlie-boy's dome back there."

Blake raise a single slender eyebrow upwards, leaning back on her hip and eyeing him.

"You only saying that because you still think you're gonna get that blow job?" she asked, tutting.

But Negan merely flashed her a grin.

"And am I?"

But Blake merely pursed her lips, smirking and turned away from him, leaving him without an answer.

She strolled easily over to Martha now, knowing Negan's eyes were following her as she went, her face becoming serious now as she stared into the eyes of the other woman.

Martha looked back at Blake nervously but held her gaze.

"How much supplies do you have?" the blonde asked in a gentle voice. Probably far more soft than Martha and the others probably expected after what had happened to Charles.

Martha glanced at the young guy at her side momentarily before turning back to Blake, here eyes flicking over to Negan over Blake's shoulder for a second as she did so.

"We have a little water, probably a couple of days worth, and some cans of food, but not much…" she started in a nervous sounding voice. "...that's why Charles...I-I….we're so sorry...we never meant for anything like this to-"

"Its fine," Blake said with a small shake of her head, her eyes earnest.

None of this, or what Charles had done, was these people's fault.

From this angle staring right at them all, even in the dim evening light Blake could see how gaunt and scrawny these people were, probably surviving off next to nothing for weeks on end.

Blake worried at her bottom lip with her teeth for a short second before she looked over her shoulder back at Negan who was pacing slowly over towards her, barbed wire-covered bat brought up onto his shoulder..

Her eyes met with his and she knew that he understood exactly what she was thinking.

That's why they made a good team. Why they always had been...

For Negan could read her like a book. And vice versa.

And the dark-haired Saviour made no move to argue with her now, merely coming to stop just a foot or two behind her, letting her do what she need to do,

Blake took a breath of air through her nose turning back around slowly, staring once again at Martha, parting her lips.

"How many are you?" she asked in a quiet voice.

Martha blinked rapidly as though she had not quite been expecting this question.

"I...uh...there's twelve of us here," she replied with a stammer. "Plus we have two young kids and their mom just behind that tree line over there."

Blake waited as Martha turned and nodded to a man just over her shoulder who yelled out one of the trio's names. Causing them to appear from the tree-line a little further up the road a second later, all clutching each other's hands and approaching the group.

Blake paused for a moment, looking from the group, to the space at the back of their large pick-up truck then back over to Negan, pursing her lips into a thin line.

"You think we can get them all back to the Sanctuary in that thing?" she asked in a tired voice.

And Negan, rocking back on his heels, pulled a face and surveyed the truck to his right.

"Well we can give it a good fuckin' try, Darlin'..." he mused, looking back at her, his lips curving up into an arrogant grin.

"...I mean, they don' call us the Saviours for nothin'."

Masterlist can be found on my profile page. 

[wydmariana]

well hellooooo beautiful people !!  my name’s dani, i’m one of the admins on the main! i’m 20, i’m from toronto & i also play the hailey fc alanna !! i’m so fkn excited to have wealthy back up & running and to bring my baby mariana back ! she’s the same old girl and if you don’t know anything about her...everything u need is under the read more ! i rly need all the connections rn so like this & i’ll hit you up for plots !!!!

❛ new york’s very own mariana cavello was spotted on broadway street in  christian louboutin’s. your resemblance to selena gomez is unreal. according to tmz, you just had your twenty-third birthday bash. while living in new york, you’ve been labeled as being reticent, but also quixotic. i guess being a gemini explains that. three things that would paint a better picture of you would be fishnets, tequila shots, notebooks filled with lyrics. & ( cisfemale & she/her ) + ( dani, 20, she/her, est )

☇   ❪    ˚･ﾟ ❛ STATISTICS :

full name: mariana marisol cavello

nickname(s): mari

age: twenty three

date of birth: june 4th

hometown: new york city

current location: upper east side, new york city

ethnicity: half mexican

nationality: american

gender: cisfemale

pronouns: she/her

parents names: tanner hastings, liliana cavello

orientation: pansexual but she doesn’t like labels

religion: grew up catholic, undecided

political affiliation: democrat

occupation: singer/songwriter

living arrangements: lives in her own mansion in the upper east side

language(s) spoken: english, spanish

accent: american

face claim: selena gomez

hair colour: x (most basic/accurate/but it changes)

eye colour: brown

height: 5″5

weight: 120lbs

build: petite

tattoos: mostly selena’s canon, but x instead of the music note

piercings: x (both ears)

drugs/alcohol/sex: yes/yes/yes

pets: one cat, 5 years old, named sergio - x

astrological chart: gemini sun, cancer moon, scorpio rising

☇   ❪    ˚･ﾟ ❛  BACKSTORY/CURRENT :

mariana was born to tanner cavello (famous hotel owner, entrepreneur, multimillionaire, been on forbes, think bart bass) & lilliana cavello (hispanic model/socialite)

her parents marriage was very much settling, the two of them cared about each other & were excited to start their life together in effort to please their parents and keep their images pristine

they were quick to fall out of love though, if you could say they were even ever in it

once mariana and her brother became teenagers, their dad started having affairs with his employes, the hot, young ones of course. & their mom found out, but confided in a 16 year old mariana about her father’s actions

( sexual abuse tw ) this infuriated mariana, especially considering the hours she would spend waiting outside her father’s office doing homework while his business partners molested her in the empty conference room starting at the age of 14

she never told anyone about it, although she knew her father had known the whole time, remembering how many times he’d interrupt it by summoning his partners for work or a meeting

mariana began absolutely hating her father, while still yearning for his approval, & this went on for 4 years until she turned 18 and got revenge by sleeping with one of her dad’s business partners & allowing his wife to find out

so his wife threatened to tell the media about this little scandal, unless mari’s dad paid them off, which is exactly what he did but not before taking his anger out on mariana & blaming her for the whole mess

she has barely talked to her dad since & moved out right as that whole situation went down. she does her best to avoid family gatherings, doesn’t visit the house to see her parents too often. she does have weekly phone calls with her mom & tries to see her as often as she can, no matter how much she resents her

she got into the party scene around 17/18 as well, and became new york’s resident “wild child rich kid/socialite” in her teen years, so she has that reputation in the media still to this day

her parents have been rich as fuck since the day she was born, so she’s definitely a spoiled brat, never worked a day in her life, had daddy’s credit card whenever she needed it

music had always been a passion of hers though, being her favorite class in school(on days when she would actually attend)

so when she was 20, she started getting back into writing, sold a couple of her songs to artists like zendaya, the weeknd, etc

when she turned 21 she released her first single & album within the same year, began touring, and got to the top of the charts almost right away & gained a huge fanbase, whom she loves

she’s now 23 and has two studio albums out !! she’s v successful and happy w her music <3 she releases things very sporadically & im probs gonna  release random selena songs along with other voice claims maybe IDKDKKD hope yall dont mind  my  messy ass kskffsk

she works hard though, & loves writing and releasing music now and never wants to stop. it’s truly the thing that makes her most happy in the entire world and keeps her sane

☇   ❪    ˚･ﾟ ❛  PERSONALITY  :

mariana can be a brat, to put it simply. she thinks she’s always right about everything & it’s rare you’re ever gonna get an apology from her when she’s done something wrong (unless she really cares about you which….)

she’s lowkey a softie, bc of her cancer moon tbh. she tends to get herself into relationships and then mess them up for the sake of it or because she stops trusting herself to be in the relationship at all

but when she loves someone, she LOVES them, like w every fibre in her body u know?

and she cares fiercely about people, it ends up being a problem for her a lot of the time

she hasn’t worked through her trauma & probably never will, she bottles that shit up tight & doesn’t let anybody know it’s there. the only way she’s ever opening up is if she’s writing, cause she wants that shit to be real

but she’s still gonna hoe it up, catch her in the club trying to get some dick for the night, u know what i mean?

super depressed if we’re being real here. she’s sad, and she has abandonment issues because of her dad. so her mindset is- there’s no forming attachments, because everyone leaves me anyway

( drugs tw ) she loves cocaine, is most definitely an addict (but who isn’t in this city), tequila is her alcohol of choice, but she’ll drink anything you give her & weed is her creative saving grace

she started popping pain pills on her 21st birthday, opioids occasionally & mostly xanax, stuff like that, is most definitely also addicted to those

we love a bitch who doesn’t care about her health!

her management team frowns upon it, but she does smoke cigarettes pretty often, but mostly only when she’s stressed

mariana’s the type of bitch to call the paparazzi on herself, she loves attention. but with her music career now it’s been 10x harder for her to keep her life private, not that she cares. but at least she doesn’t have to call the paps on herself anymore lol

she thinks it’s important to treat people w kindness and respect, but no doubt she’ll be ready to fight a b*tch if she has to…

catch her at any protest that involves saying “fuck you trump”

her instagram is a big mix of stories of her cat, dumb selfies, ig model posts, her friends, career stuff & political posts. she’s very active on the gram & snapchat lol

honestly thank U for reading this trash if u didnt…i understand. catch her pinterest board for more here & i have a wanted connections page here ! ok bye i love u, plot w me <3

[joonbird]

Fire & Desire | 1

➭ “Kim Seokjin is everything you don’t want in a man. Cocky, full of himself and oh so annoying. And that’s what makes him the perfect fuck buddy. Because it’s not like you could ever see him as anything more than a heartless player... right?”

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre: smut, fuckboy!jin, dom!Jin

wordcount: 10.1k

a/n: *that* shower scene → inspired by this picture!

part one | two | three

You have a crush. 

It seems a bit silly to use the word crush, but really – it’s the most fitting word to describe how you feel when you’re around him. Your chest squeezes when you think about how he smiles with his eyes first lips second, your heartbeat rutting at a rapid pace when imagine him directing one of those smiles at you. Yep, definitely a crush. You have a crush, a big, embarrassing, painful crush, on no other than Kim Namjoon.

Kim Namjoon. Kim Namjoon is known to most as the newly promoted junior partner of your firm, a man with a sharp brain and an even sharper tongue. You however, know him as the man who has you thinking ‘oh my god he’s looking at me don’t blush don’t you dare fucking blush’ on an all too regular basis.

Of course, it’s not like he notices you. He’s your type to a tee, the kind of man you always imagined yourself ending up with. But his gaze always scans right past you -  when all you want is for it to linger. 

That is, until now.

“Hey,” Namjoon hovers above your desk and his eyes meet yours. Your breath leaps in your throat and you immediately pin your shoulders back, hoping that you look poised, elegant. A blush colours your cheeks when you realize you’re overthinking your actions, as if good posture will somehow make him wildly attracted to you.

Still, you pull your shoulders back and smile at him.

“…” 

A long silence stretches between the two of you, he clears his throat with an embarrassed tilt of his head, and you realize that he doesn’t even remember your name.

“Y/N,” You stammer out quickly and Namjoon nods. 

“Of course. Y/N. I was wondering…” His voice dips and for a wild moment you fantasize about the words that are about to come out of his mouth.

“… Do you mind photocopying this file? I would ask that new intern, but he’s already left for the day.” He adds a little smile at the end of his words and you can’t help but melt, like butter over a stack of pancakes. 

You’ve been working at this firm for nearly a year and you didn’t suffer through the hellish ordeal of law school to merely photocopy... but still, you find yourself nodding. The file is well over 200 pages and going to take a year to photocopy, but you grab it like it’s a god damn golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. 

Namjoon doesn’t notice the blush spreading across your cheeks and he’s already glancing down at his phone, and with an absentminded ‘Thanks’, he strolls away.

You’re bent over the photocopier, trying to figure out how you’re supposed to change the ink cartridges when the machine doesn’t seem to have any clear instructions whatsoever, when you hear voices.

You recognize them immediately – Namjoon’s calm voice melodic against the deeper, huskier voice of Kang Minho. Minho is one of the associates in your firm, an older man whose default mode is one of condescension. Particularly towards the few women employed at your firm. Needless to say, you aren’t a fan. 

They’ve clearly stopped in your office’s large break room to grab a coffee, and you wave at them, but neither men notice.

“…So tonight’s the big night, huh?” Minho’s voice floats down and you pause, intrigued. 

You wonder if you should say something, reveal that you’re down here on the ground grappling with ink cartridges. However, a morbid curiosity shushes the words before they can leave your lips. You duck down so they cant spot you, feeling somewhat like a fugitive.

“Yeah,” You hear Namjoon answer, followed by a chuckle. “Man, I’m fucking rusty. I haven’t been laid in months. I haven’t even talked to a woman in months.” He laughs ruefully and your eyes widen. 

“I know what you mean,” Minho sighs. “When are we gonna get some better looking ladies in here? I could use a hot little PA, not an old fucking crone. Have you seen Beth? I wouldn’t fuck her if you paid me.” 

Namjoon just laughs in response and you wrinkle your nose at the crudeness the two men are exuding.

“Although,” Minho muses. “There’s Y/N, that new lawyer, right? She’s pretty hot.” 

Your eyes widen when you hear your name, and you realize you’re holding your breath when you hear Namjoon make a noise that can be best described as the vocalization of an ‘ehhhh’.

“She doesn’t count,” Namjoon says finally, and you blink. “She’s like another guy.” 

Minho laughs loudly in response. “True.”

Fuck! You’re squeezing the ink cartridge and it explodes in your hands, sending black ink all over your palms. The sound of the cartridge clattering to the floor causes you to jump, and cringing, you scrabble to duck lower behind the photocopy machine. 

“What was that?” You hear Namjoon question, and you pray to all the divinities out there to stop him from rounding the corner.

“Dunno man. It’s probably nothing. Come on, let’s bounce.” Minho responds, and you breathe out a sigh of relief when you hear the sound of their footsteps retreating. 

You stay still for a moment, crouched over, your hands covered in ink. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, suddenly all too aware of the horrible sensation in your your chest. You want to cry. And not just a few tears, a big, ugly, chest-pain cry.

She doesn’t count? Like another guy? 

You ball up your fists and will yourself to be strong. You hate this- the sharp whip of rejection swelling in your chest. He’s an asshole, you chant internally, who cares what he thinks, you add to the chant. The need to cry subsides, but the sting doesn’t.

You finally stand up and walk to the bathroom, you scrub your hands one, twice, three times, the routine calming you down. By the time your hands are relatively clean, you’re feeling better. 

You leave the bathroom and walk down the hallway of cubicles, past the symphony of clacking keyboards and tired sighs. It’s already late, the sun melting into the skyline, and yet half of your team is still hard at work. Any other night and you would be working away alongside them. 

It’s the price you have to pay if you want to climb up the career ladder in this profession. You have to give up any semblance of a life, let alone a love life. How long has it since you’ve gone on a date, had sex, or even interacted with a guy? Aside from photocopying files for a man like you’re a nameless, voiceless intern, you think to yourself bitterly. 

You reach your tiny cubicle and stare miserably at the stack of papers on your desk, the open laptop, the cup of coffee. It’s Friday night and your plans were to finish your work, go home, cuddle your cat and sleep. 

Some Friday night.

Maybe it’s the frustration blooming in your chest, or the wooden feeling from being reduced to ‘she’s pretty hot/she doesn’t count’ by two of your colleagues.

Whatever it is, it ignites in your chest as you slam your laptop closed and swipe your wallet off of your table. 

“It’s Friday fucking night,” You mutter to yourself. “And I need a drink.”

“He’s an ass.” Irene says, authority lacing her voice. “Truly. An ass.” 

You’re sitting at a dive bar around the corner from your house, a nearly empty bottle of wine sitting in front of you. It’s getting late, and you’ve been complaining to your best friend for hours. The more alcohol you consume the more you feel fired up, it feels like annoyance is running through your veins. Annoyance and red wine, that is.

“I’m the ass.” You mutter. “I’m done with men. I’m done with feelings. I’m done with being passive and not taking charge of my own life.” You end your sentence with emphasis, lifting your glass to your lips. Irene just laughs, pointing her glass at you. 

“Don’t be like that, you’ll meet the right guy. I did.” She punctuates her words with an angelic smile and you just shake your head at her words. 

“I don’t want to meet the right guy. Seriously,” You whine. “I’m done with feelings. I’m done with caring so much. What’s the point? You get invested and you get burned. Fuck that!” 

Irene just shrugs. ��I mean-”

A loud laugh cuts through Irene’s voice- an obnoxious laugh, one that immediately annoys you. 

Your eyes fall straight on him, and to be completely honest- it’s hard not to, because he’s the kind of man the demands attention. He’s standing at the centre of the bar, leaning against the damn thing like he owns the place. 

He’s handsome- and you can tell he knows he’s handsome. You can see it in the way he carries himself, you can sense it in the lines of his shoulders- he is exuding the kind of easy confidence that only truly beautiful people have. 

He’s in conversation with a woman- she’s gorgeous, clad in a black dress that is molded to her curves like hot fudge dripping off a sundae. She’s simpering at him, her eyes wide and hopeful. 

Curiousity piqued, you watch as he laughs again –such an unattractive laugh for such an attractive man- and you’re amazed by how the woman continues to stare at him like he’s God’s gift to man. Complete and utter doe eyes. 

Even though he has most of his attention on her, he’s still glancing around the room, giving other women moments of eye contact, little smirks. He’s keeping his options open, you realize. He’s eyefucking half the room.

“Seokjin,” You hear her voice ring out, she pouts at him. “That’s such an amazing story. You’re so brave.”

He leans in closer to her and nods somberly. “I try to be,” You can hear him say in a serious tone. “I mean I have to be a brave guy, right? To talk to a woman as beautiful and out of my league as yourself?”

Ugh, what a fucking line. You roll your eyes, expecting the woman to see straight through him. Instead, her eyes light up and her cheeks blush pink.

You can’t believe she doesn’t spot how him he switches from spinning lines like a K-drama actor to being completely bored, the second she glances away. He’s a player, and a good one. A very good one. 

He’s charming, handsome, the textbook definition of princely. He works the sweet ‘I want to date you’ card to the right woman… and, you bet, he can flip it and become a complete asshole before that some woman can even blink.

“Pathetic,” You mumble under your breath. 

Almost as if he hears you, he glances up, his eyes meeting yours. 

Looking at him front on, you’re disarmed momentarily by how beautiful he is. Full lips, wavy hair, and piercing eyes… eyes that are staring right into yours, with no subtlety whatsoever. He’s trying to figure you out and when you give him absolutely nothing, his lips curl into a smirk. 

His gaze is focused and appreciative, as if he’s undressing you and he likes what he sees. You roll your eyes and tear your eyes away from him, forcing yourself to look at something else, anything else. 

“That guy won’t stop staring at you,” Irene hisses under her breath. 

You glance up at her with a deadpan expression. 

“Are you sure he isn’t staring at you?”

She sighs impatiently. “Yes I’m sure! Oh my god, he’s so hot. I’m wet just looking at him.”

You laugh, swatting your friend. “Too much information Irene… which guy?”

“The one who looks like a model!”

You glance up surreptitiously to see that same guy, still staring straight at you. The woman he was chatting up earlier is still by his side, batting her eyelashes at him, but he’s not even facing her. 

His eyes are on you.

“Please,” You roll your eyes. “He’s the kind of guy who’s too in love with himself to pay any attention to the girl he’s with. Probably gets off to his own photos.”

Irene sighs dreamily. “And I don’t blame him if he does. I would too. He’s seriously so- Oh my God, I think he’s walking over…”

You glance up in mild panic, seeing him sauntering over to you.

“Hi,” He says, stopping right in front of your table and offering you a smile. “I’m sorry for staring, it’s just… you’re the most beautiful woman here. Did you know that?”

You hear Irene let out a little sigh and you just purse your lips, unimpressed.

“And you’re the most obvious guy here, did you know that?” You retort icily. 

He’s unbothered by your comment, instead, he just lifts an eyebrow.

“You ladies out for some drinks?” He asks, glancing from you to your friend. 

“No, we’re here to raise sheep. What do you think we’re doing?” You snapback, holding up your glass of wine and waving it in his face. 

He just cocks his head to one side, a smile dancing on his lips. 

“You’re funny,” He comments. “I like that in a woman.” He gives you a slow, charming smile and you just stare at him with an uninterested expression.

“Sure you do,” You respond sarcastically. His grin widens.

“Kim Seokjin. My friends call me Jin.” He introduces, holding out his hand, and you ignore him.

“This is Y/N,” You hear Irene scrambling, you shoot her a death stare and she just grins innocently at you. “I should head home,” She announces, grabbing her purse and standing up. “Tae’s waiting for me.” 

Seokjin is still staring at you, he doesn’t even turn his head to look at Irene. 

You shoot her a warning glance and she just grins at you, mouthing, He’s cute! You give her a look that says, I’m going to kill you.

“Irene-” You begin but she just chirps out, “Bye!” And flounces off. 

Great.

“Y/N,” Seokjin says thoughtfully. “Pretty name.”

You put your wine glass down and glare at him. “Please. Stop. I know what you’re trying to do. You’re painfully obvious. I’m not interested.”

Surprise darts over his face.

“I’m not trying to do-”

“Like I said! Cut it,” You interrupt him, you hold his gaze for a long moment before he shakes his head, laughing. 

“Bad day?” He answers simply, you give him a withering stare in response.

“What, you think the only reason for me not falling all over you could be that I’m having a bad day?”

Seokjin just grins. “No, I can just read you like a book. Tell me I’m wrong then. That you’re not having a bad day.”

You let out a little huff. Seokjin just smirks at you. 

“You’re so tense,” He comments lightly, carelessly. “I can see it in your shoulders.” His eyes linger on your body and you let out a scoff.

“I’m tense because you’re here.” You snap at him, and Seokjin leans in closer.

He’s so brash and so confident that you’re momentarily taken aback.

“I can help you get rid of some of that tension, if you like.”

“Not a chance in hell,” You growl, shaking your head at him. Seokjin pauses, surveying you thoughtfully.

“Look, I meant what I said. You’re the hottest woman here. And I’m the hottest guy here.” He finishes his sentence with a nonchalant grin and a wink.

Your jaw drops a little at the sheer audacity of what he’s suggesting, narrowing your eyes. 

“You’re so-” You begin, irritation prickling over your skin, and he just grins, cutting you off smoothly. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re attracted to me, right?” He leans in closer as he speaks and you feel your breath catch in your throat. He smells good, he’s wearing cologne but he also smells like something else, like fresh linen.

This close, you’re practically swimming in his eyes and you can’t help but feel a buzz of heat in your body.

“I…” Your voice stammers out and a confident smirk settles over Seokijn’s face. You stare at him up and down. He’s confident, so damn confident, like you’ve already said yes, and you suppose for a moment that maybe you have. He’s attractive. Really, really attractive.

You grab your wine glass in an attempt to down it all in one gulp. Instead, your hand collides with the glass and sends it flying... straight on Jin’s lap.

He lets out a small yelp and jumps in surprise as the dark burgundy liquid soaks straight through his cream coloured jumper. 

“Oh my God!” Your hands fly to your mouth and you feel your cheeks burn scarlet as you fumble around on your table for a napkin. You twist your body around and your elbow collides with Jin’s drink.

The second drink topples onto Jin and then onto the floor with a loud crash, the glass splintering into crystalline pieces. 

Your jaw drops and you see Jin grimace. 

“I’m sorry, that was an accident, I swear,” You babble and Jin just lifts his eyes to meet yours. 

“I have to say, I’ve had women throw drinks at me before but never like that.” He says drily. 

“It wasn’t-” You begin but Jin just shoots you a look of faint irritation. 

“Next time just say ‘no thanks’ and leave it at that.” He mutters. 

Your jaw drops and you feel a spike of annoyance flare up inside of you, but before you can bite back a retort, one of the bartenders marches over, irritation creasing his face.

“Time to go,” He says bluntly. Both you and Jin’s heads snap to look at the man, whose arms are folded, lips pressed in a firm line.

“I’m sorry, it was an accident-”

“I don’t care,” He interrupts in a short, tight voice. “We’re nearly at a full capacity and you just broke two glasses. Now I’ve gotta vacuum and sweep this entire area. Out.” 

The protest dies from your lips when you see all of the broken glass littering the floor. You nod meekly, turning and slinking out of the bar, Jin following suit. 

“Ugh,” Jin mutters in annoyance as you step outside. He looks down at himself pointedly. “I’m all wet and sticky now. Thanks a lot.”

“Sticky?” You echo. “What the hell were you drinking?”

Jin lifts his chin defiantly. “Peach mojito.” He says in a pert voice and you can’t help the giggle that spills out of your mouth. He narrows his eyes at you.

“A peach mojito?” You repeat, giggling. 

“They’re delicious and high in alcohol content, for your information.”

You laugh again, once again slightly taken aback by how upfront he is. He wears everything on his sleeve, you realize- not his heart, because you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have one. But he’s not hiding anything. He may be an A-grade player, but he owns it, at least. Oddly enough you appreciate it. 

“Whatever you say, Seokjin.”

Jin narrows his eyes at you. “Hey! I’ve been kicked out of a bar and my clothes are ruined. I should be getting laid right now. Instead… I’m here. It’s just great.” He’s speaking with a hint of sarcasm and you watch as he runs a hand through his hair, letting out a sulky sigh.

“Sorry,” You try again. “Really.” 

Seokjin eyes you suspiciously for a moment before he shrugs. “S’alright. I’ll live. I’d just kill for a shower or something God, I feel gross.” He shudders and you feel a twinge of guilt.

“If you want,” You begin with a sigh. “My place is right around the corner. You can shower there and try get some of that out of your clothes.” You eye the humongous red stain on the front of his jumper and he glances at you.

“Your place?” He repeats, and you cut him off before that now familiar smirk makes another appearance.

“Just because I feel bad for you.” You clarify. “There’s no chance in hell. I’m honestly not that attracted to you. You don’t affect me.”

He just smiles at you. “That’s called denial, babe.”

“Nope,” You fire back. “It’s called honesty.”

Jin just laughs and shakes his head. “Okay okay,” He shrugs. “If you say I don’t affect you then I won’t try anything, promise. I’m a man of my word.” He raises his hand solemnly at you, like he’s reciting an oath, and you roll your eyes.

“Please stop talking. Are you coming or not?” 

“Alright,” He sighs. “Lead the way.”

You arrive at your place in five minutes. As you switch the light on and close the front door, Jin steps inside, gazing around gingerly.

You gesture at the door up on your right. “Bathroom’s over there.”

Seokjin nods at you and walks over as you check your phone. 1AM. 

“Hey,” Jin calls out from inside the bathroom, “What’s with your shower?”

You pad down the hallway and into the bathroom. Your eyes widen as you realize he’s standing there shirtless, in just his jeans.

“Uh,” You stammer, averting your eyes and coughing. Jin, unfazed by your awkward reaction to his half naked body, gazes around your bathroom. 

“So fancy,” He comments. “There’s a seat and everything.” 

He nods at the small bench tucked against one wall of the shower and you shrug, still not making eye contact with his torso.

“Yeah, the old owners were big time into new age renovations, and I guess a bench in the shower was one of them,” You clear your throat after you speak and Jin just nods slowly. He’s still looking around your spacious bathroom, an intrigued expression on his face.

“What the hell do you do for a living?” He asks in curiosity, and you flush.

“Lawyer,” You mumble. “You?” 

Seokjin just smirks at you. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Anyway. How do I turn on the tap in this fancy-ass shower?” He eyes the huge chrome tap in the centre of your shower dubiously. 

“Ah,” You start, leaning against the shower door. “Yeah it’s a bit different, you’ve gotta press the tap inwards with pressure and then turn it to the left.” 

Jin nods, frowning at the tap, for a moment before he leans in past you to grasp the tap. He’s close, his face pinched slightly in concentration. You draw in your breath involuntarily as he steps closer, but luckily the sharp intake of your breath is lost in the sound of the water hitting the shower floor. 

His shoulders flex as he adjusts the water pressure, and your eyes fall on the slopes of his shoulders, your stare lingering on his neck. You’ve never been a neck person but God, he has a nice neck.

“Huh.” Jin says lightly, but you barely register what he’s saying. The glass walls of your shower are slowly starting to mist up with steam and you’re still staring at Jin’s back. He has such a broad back, with a trim waist and strong shoulders. His skin is smooth, and you suddenly wonder what his shoulder blades would feel like if you dug your fingernails into them.

Jin turns his head to glance at you, catching your dumbfounded stare.

“What?” He huffs, and you open your mouth to say something, anything... but words evade you. 

You’re suddenly hyperaware of the fact that he’s nearly naked, and your eyes fall from his eyes down to his chest. 

He raises an eyebrow and smirks to himself when he notices your stare. It’s getting hot in the room, and you draw in your breath with a shuddery gasp as he dips his head down to you. 

His lips are mere inches away from yours, but he pauses. His eyes darken as his gaze trickles down from your eyes to your neck, skimming over your breasts. His eyes rake over your entire body, and his stare is pure heat. 

It’s like you can feel him lingering over every inch of you, and you swallow, absorbed in the way his neck tenses with arousal, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Like earlier, isn’t subtle, and he’s not gazing at you with adoration. Quite the contrary – he’s looking at you with hungry, lust filled eyes. He’s blatant, and you can’t help but glance down, seeing the tent in his pants. You tilt your chin up, staring into his eyes. Willing him to kiss you.

Like he can read your mind, his lips inch closer to yours, and you don’t know whether it’s him or you who closes the distance first. Either way, you meet his lips in a fevered kiss. 

There’s nothing gentle about it, it isn’t tender, his lips slam into yours with an urgency that immediately gratifies you. You gasp into his mouth and feel your body tense, but he’s like liquid, smooth, assured, his hand reaching up to cup the back of your head, his other palm sliding down past your shoulder blades to settle on your lower back. 

The gratification doesn’t last long, because you want more, and you let out a low moan as his tongue licks your bottom lip. You tilt your head back, feeling your heart start to jackhammer in your chest as he kisses you long and deep.

He’s good at this- at kissing, he kisses with just as much confidence as you would expect, his hand cupping the back of your head, his tongue is deep and demanding. Your mind is racing, and just when you think you can’t feel more full of want, red hot, unadulterated want… Seokjin lets out a low, sweet moan into your mouth.

Jin steps away from you and his fingers grasp the metallic zipper of his jeans, and he pulls them off and steps out of them. Your eyes glide over his thighs, thick and strong, at the small V lines that slope inward to his dick. His dick, which is big, thicker than you anticipated, and completely erect. Your breath catches in your throat as he straightens, a smirk on his face.

“Join me?” He asks and he turns, stepping into the shower. Your breath locks in your throat and comes out as a strangled sound as your eyes land straight on his ass, he has a great ass. Scratch that, he has a great everything.

Your body is moving before your mind has fully registered what is going on, your fingers gripping at the bottom of your dress and yanking it over your head, your hands frantically curving around your back to unclip your bra. Heat and desperation is throbbing through you, your eyes locked on Jin, who is standing under the pouring water. 

He turns his head and his eyes meet yours, his eyes linger over the curve of your breasts and on your legs and he bites his lip, and you feel yourself start to unravel with desire. 

Your underwear are off, flung to the floor with the kind of carelessness that would normally make you cringe but to be quite honest you couldn’t care less.

You step into your shower and Jin is staring down at you with a smirk on his lips.

“Y/N,” He says your name and it rolls of his tongue and you feel a quiver of hunger deep in your core.

“Seokjin.” You say his name, you attempt to say it confidently but it comes out as a breathy groan. At the sound of your voice, Seokjin moves closer.

He doesn’t kiss you. Instead, he turns you around in one smooth movement so that your palms are flat against the shower wall. The tiles are cold against your skin, the steam swirling around the air, and you let out a shuddery gasp.

“You’re so annoying,” He leans in and murmurs in your ear, you feel his lips brushing teasingly against your earlobe and a shiver runs through your body.

“You are,” You breathe back, and his fingers latch firmly around your wrist. He has your arms pinned against the wall, and his neck crooked as his body locks yours in place. You feel weak from arousal, at feeling his body, so much larger than yours, curved around you like this. 

Jin lets go of one of your wrists, his hand trails over your arm and then down your spine. Your toes curl and you can’t help but arch your body back into his, the way he’s touching you has you entirely on edge. His fingers work quick patterns on your lower waist, right by the fleshy part of your hip. 

“I thought you said I don’t affect you,” He continues, his voice low.

“You don’t,” You reply, but your legs tremble and your words come out as a moan. Jin just hums, massaging his thumb into your hip. You’re aware of how you’re pushing off of the wall with your hands, it’s unlike you to be this needy, this desperate so fast but you can’t help yourself. 

Jin’s palm skims over your ass before he cups it in his hand, squeezing you.

“I think I do. As much as you don’t want to admit it…” He punctuates his words, massaging your ass in his hands before both of his hands are at your waist, spinning you around. You gasp again as you come face to face with him, he has an easy, confident smile on his face. 

“I think you are affected by me.”

You feel momentarily taken aback, this close he’s so handsome that it hurts, his eyes piercing into yours. And the confidence! He’s oozing with it, and as much as it annoyed you back in the bar, you can’t help but feel turned on by it body now. He skims the pad of his thumb over your pussy, right over your now throbbing slit, and you hiss in a breath. He pulls his hand away.

“And there’s my answer,” He murmurs in satisfaction. You feel a flash of sexual frustration, mingled with irritation. Your core is aching for him, a heavy thud between your legs, and you’re annoyed that he’s right. You are affected by him.

“Yeah, you’re hot. Is that what you wanted to hear, you ass?” You mutter, but the irritation drains out of your body when he presses his body against you. You can feel his erection against your ass and his hands grip your hips, pulling them against him. 

He lets out a small moan and you’re filled with a stirring of confidence from the fact that he seems to be just as turned on as you are.

“I’m so hard right now.” Jin mutters, and your feel a rush of arousal and pride at his words. 

“Good,” You respond, it’s all you can manage to say. Jin pushes you firmly against the shower wall, and once again the cool slick of the tile makes you gasp aloud. You see Jin’s eyes flash as he smirks, one hand pinning your hips down in place. 

He reaches up and runs his fingers through your hair, wrapping some strands in his hand before he tugs. It’s a firm tug and you let out an involuntary moan. He has you immobilized, locked against the wall, and you are completely in his grip. 

“Fuck,” You grit out, staring up at him from under your eyelashes. “Please,” The word comes out before you can stop it. You’re desperate for him, your entire body is buzzing with need.  

The shower is full of steam now, the air thick, and you have to crane your neck back to meet Jin’s gaze. You’re trembling in arousal, the heavy weight of his hand in your hair, and that arousal only heightens when you see the look in Jin’s eyes. The easy confidence is still there, he looks pleased with himself, cocky as ever. And it turns you on so much you can hardly stand it.

“I told you,” Jin says in a low, teasing voice. “I’m good.”

“You haven’t even touched me yet, stop thinking so highly of yourself.” You pant out in retaliation, Jin growls, and you let out a gasp, enjoying the way Jin tightens his grip on your hair. 

He lets go, his hand curls around the base of your neck near your jawline, his fingers gripping your chin. He stares directly into your eyes and you can’t help the small moan that rips from your throat. His smirk grows at the sound.

“You’re so needy,” He observes with a cock of his head. “In such a rush.”

Before you can respond, he slips a hand between your thighs and brushes a finger against your clit. 

You hiss in for breath, his fingertips are damp from the steam in the shower and his hand is still keeping your face forward, locked on his. His touch lasts only a moment on your soaking wet, needy slit, and you feel a spike of desperation when he pulls away. 

You’re faintly aware of how your breath is becoming erratic, and that the more out of control you get, the more Jin’s smirk grows. The thought occurs to you that Jin is right… he is good. You don’t know how but he seems to read your body and touch you in spots that have you practically mewling out his name.

“Please Jin,” You beg. Your pride is starting to give way to your neediness for his touch and frankly, you couldn’t care less.

His eyes flash and his fingers dart against your pussy again, this you can’t help but tip your head back against the tile and let out a cry. Jin lets out a little groan and you feel his fingers push inside of you. He slips his long slender finger inside of you, working up into your wet walls and arching.

Fuck, when he crooks his finger your entire lower back stiffens and your eyes widen. You let out a choked breath, Jin’s eyes are on you the whole time, his dark eyes hypnotic and amused as he slides another finger in. 

The second one he slips in slowly, teasingly, before the full length of his fingers are inside of you.

He makes slow, agonizing thrusts inside of you and you’re filled to the brim with lust. It feels like you’re spinning, the air in the shower is thick with steam and the water is still running behind you, but all you can concentrate on is Jin fucking you out with his fingers.

“Oh my God,” You whimper and Jin’s eyes flash in satisfaction, as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you and brings them to his full lips. You watch as he sucks both fingers clean, his eyes locked on you, catching the way your mouth falls open. Fuck, he’s dirty, but he’s good, so damn good. 

“You taste pretty good.” Jin says in an offhand way and with a shrug of his broad shoulders, and you’re filled with a flash of annoyance. 

“Asshole,” You mutter and the irritation you feel fuels your arousal, your lips finding his in a frenzied kiss.

Jin’s lips are full and his tongue darts into your mouth with a dominance that you’re not used to. His kisses are rushed and intense in a way that has your whole body keening into him. 

He’s so good at this. It’s the one thought that slips through your hazy state at arousal. Perhaps too good at this. Jin doesn’t just kiss- his hands are roaming over your body, his fingers massaging at a sensitive spot on your inner thigh and making you moan. 

You’re barely aware of what you’re doing in response to his touches. While everything he is doing is full of intent and purpose, your hands are fluttering in his hair, roaming down his back, cupping his ass in your hands. 

You’re a mess, and at one point you stagger under the streaming water of the showerhead. The water pours over you and makes you gasp, before he pulls you back out of the stream, your wet skin gliding against his.

“Fuck,” You mumble in between his kisses. “You have a great ass.”

He just smirks. “I know.” 

He reaches down and grabs your ass, smacking one of your cheeks playfully. “You have a great ass too.” He murmurs sweetly, and before you can say anything he’s captured your lips in another hungry kiss. 

You respond eagerly, and he’s pulling you by your waist, you’re following. He sits down on the ledge in your shower with his legs apart and pulls you down on top of him. Immediately you oblige, swinging your legs into a straddling position. 

His cock is hard, you glance down at it and swallow, he’s bigger than what you’re used to. He has a nice cock too, straight, long, and thick. You wonder if it will be able to even fit inside of you. Judging by the smirk on Jin’s face, he can read the brief uncertainty that crosses over your face from taking in his size.

You take his length in your hands, wrapping your fingers around his shaft and enjoying the way his Adams apple bobs in his throat from your touch. Carefully, you pump your hand up and down his cock, your eyes flickering up to catch the way his tongue darts out over his lips. 

His lips are unfairly pillowy, you think to yourself, so full, like a pornstar’s lips. And with that thought, you’re suddenly struck with inspiration. 

You push yourself off of him, bending down so that you’re on your knees. Jin’s eyes widen a little before he smiles, stretching his arms out and interlacing his palms behind his head.

The shower floor is hard and painful on your knees, but it just turns you on more. This whole encounter is turning you on like crazy, you on your knees in your shower with a guy you met at a bar. A guy unlike anyone you would normally ever go for. 

With that thought in mind, you run your palms along his thighs and glance up at him. Seokjin’s lips are parted slightly and he cranes his neck forward, you can see the arousal written all over his face as his gaze trails over your waist, taking in the way your feet are tucked under your ass. 

You continue working his cock with your hand and slowly bend forward, keeping your eyes on him. 

“Tease,” Jin groans out. You can see it on his face- utter anticipation, and seeing the oh-so cocky Jin waiting impatiently for you to put your lips around his cock floods you with heat.

You run your tongue slowly down his shaft, toying with him before you dart the your tongue over his tip. His legs tense under your palms and he lets out a barely decipherable grunt of approval. You smile to yourself before you swirl your tongue over his tip again. Jin lets out an even louder groan.

“Stop teasing,” He mutters, but you ignore him, enjoying the loss of control on his face as he clenches his jaw. 

Finally, you take his cock into your mouth. You take a moment to adjust, to wetten his dick with your mouth, before you slowly take him in deeper. Jin moans and you see his fingers clench at the bench. 

His hands hover forward and entangle in your hair. You take him in until his cock hits the back of your throat. Jin is moaning louder, your eyes spring with tears but you’re so turned on by the noises. He’s vocal, surprisingly vocal- he’s letting out dark growls and moans, as you start fucking him with your mouth.

“God I never would’ve thought that you’d be this good with your mouth,” Jin sighs out and his words have your chest swelling with an odd sense of pride.

“You look so hot, your pretty mouth around my cock… fuck, how do you, oh Jesus, how do you do that?” His voice is strained as you take him even deeper, ignoring the will to gag. You lift your eyes to see his face, contorted in pleasure.

You hum against his dick, his full length in your mouth and your throat. His eyes open and he glances down at you and you give a tiny nod. A smile dissolves over Jin’s face before lifts his hips up with his palms against the bench, and begins to carefully thrust into you. 

“God, you’re deepthroating me like a fucking slut, it’s so fucking hot!” Jin groans as he bucks his hips, your eyes fill with tears. 

You take each thrust, his moans filling the air, before he pulls out of your mouth, hoisting you up. Before you can say anything he’s pulling you on top of him, his fingers grabbing at your thighs and pulling them around his waist so that you’re straddling him again.

“I want to fuck your brains out, princess,” He tells you in a husky voice. “Have you got a…?” He raises and eyebrow and you nod. 

“One sec,” You stammer out and you hop off him, the bottoms of your feet leaving wet footprints on your bathroom floor as you yank open one of your drawers and rip open a condom. 

Jin grins as you return, rolling the condom onto his length. 

“C’mere,” He murmurs when you’re done, pulling you firmly on top of him. His fingers are finding their way between your legs, he’s not slow and teasing like before but desperate. His fingers work against your clit and you let out a loud whimper. He looks so good- his damp hair is pushed off his forehead, lips are full and red from him biting them while you were fucking him with your mouth.

“You’re already so wet for me aren’t you?” He mutters. “God, you’re so hot… my lucky day.” He smirks at you and you feel his cock twitch between your legs. He pulls his fingers out of you and gazes at you, you answer his unspoken question as you wrap your fingers around his cock.

You lift your hips and ease yourself onto him. You’re careful, knowing that he’s thicker and bigger than what you’re used to, but you’re so wet and so aching for him that you sink down around him easily. 

The feeling of him stretching you out is immense and overwhelming, your eyes roll back and you let out a choked cry. 

“Fuuuuuuck. Your pussy feels even better than your mouth,” Jin half laughs, his fingers gripping around your hips. 

As you adjust, you feel satisfaction and relief wash over you. You have been craving this from the moment he slammed you against the shower wall. You begin rocking against him, his fingers curve around from your hip to your ass.

He cups your ass and squeezes you. He’s leaned back against the wall of the shower, and you tip your head back. There’s something about Seokjin, you’ve realized- perhaps the way his eyes rake over yours hungrily while you ride him. Or maybe it’s the cocky smirk that seems to always be on his lips. Whatever it is, it drives you God damn crazy. 

“You sure can take my dick well,” He murmurs into your mouth right before he kisses you, another wet hungry kiss. He keeps his hands on your ass, guiding your motions as you rock into him deeper, harder. 

You’re reaching your climax, it feels like you’ve been on edge ever since the water started running in the shower, and seeing Jin like this- swallowing heavily, his jaw clenching, it’s almost enough to take you to the edge. It’s the shower too, you think, the thick steam and the sound of the water running behind you as you sit on his cock.

“I’m going to cum soon,” You hiss and Jin reaches up with one hand and grips your hair again. 

“You have nice hair,” He comments, completely ignoring you. His voice is strained with lust. “Next time I’m going to fuck you from behind, like this.” His other hand flutters up and he tugs firmly on your hair with both hands, and the burn on your scalp has you moaning out. 

“Next time?” You pant out and Jin nods, his jaw clenching. 

“Yes. I’m going to have you on your pretty stomach with your ass in the air. And then I’m going to cum all over your back.” He says his words with his usual confidence and it pushes you over the edge. 

“Fuck!” You collapse forward slightly and your eyes squeeze shut as you feel your orgasm sweep over you in shuddery, desperate waves. 

Seokjin doesn’t stop- he just lets go of your hair and rests his palms flat on the bench beside him so he can tilt his hips up. He keeps fucking into you. 

Your palms fall forward on his chest to support yourself, and your orgasm has already started to ebb away, it was intense and quick. But the feeling of him still fucking into you, harder, has your walls clenching again. 

Seokjin thrusts up into you with rapid, sloppy, desperate movements, and you let out a cry as your second orgasm chases the first. 

The second is more languid, a slow, intense one that seems to grip around you like a vice. The tension drains out of your body and you moan out his name incoherently, it feels like your entire core is about to melt in bliss. 

Jin lets go and wraps his palms around your lower back to support you, your body is weak, your fingernails digging into his chest.

“Fuck,” He mutters at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, and he lets out a guttural grunt, pressing his face against your chest as he moans out against your skin. 

His orgasm is akin to your first, desperate and frenzied, his body shakes under yours. Jin moans out your name and the sound of hearing him cum like that, so vocally, has you shivering in pleasure.

You stay there for a moment, his forehead pressed against your chest before he moves, leaning his head back against the shower wall. 

The only sound is the water still hitting the shower floor. 

Your whole body is numb, euphoric.

“That was…” Jin’s voice trails off and his eyes meet yours, and you know what he’s thinking. Insane. 

Carefully, you ease yourself off of his dick and wince. You’re going to be sore tomorrow, you think. 

Seokjin is still leaned back against the wall watching you, a lazy, slow smile spreading over his face. 

You sway a little as you stand up, you hover for a moment as the throb in your body slowly starts to fade. 

Finally, you step into the stream of water, letting it wash away the sweat and his cum. You stand there for a moment before you grab your shampoo from where it sits on the floor, squeezing a small amount into your palm and massaging it into your scalp.

After a beat Jin stands up and his thighs tremble, he leans against the wall for support.  He takes the condom off of his length and opens the shower door, tossing it into the bin before stepping back under the water. 

“Pass the shampoo,” He says, holding out his hand and you turn, nodding mutely and passing him the bottle. You quickly rinse the shampoo from your hair, suddenly feeling uncertain. Jin doesn’t notice, he’s too busy showering beside you and his eyes are still closed. 

You figure he’s in post-orgasm bliss like you are. Gingerly, you step out of the shower, grabbing a fresh towel and wrapping it around you.

“Thank you,” Jin says suddenly, you glance at him. He’s smirking at you, and you admit to yourself that he looks good. The curve of his back, his tight ass, his wet hair. 

“You too,” You respond honestly. “It’s late, you can stay here tonight if you want, there’s a blanket on the couch.” You say lightly.

“Cool, thanks.” He responds and you nod, turning and letting yourself out of the bathroom.

Once you’re out of the steam filled room, the cool fresh air hitting you, you lean against the wall. 

You’re surprised at the feeling in your chest. You had a great, no, a spectacular fuck, and you feel no lingering attachment after. 

You feel nothing but euphoria from your orgasm. 

No feelings, no doubts, just a warm, satisfied ache throughout your body.

You wake up feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks. 

You let out a yawn, your body curling in a lazy stretch. You smile when you realize you can feel the afterglow from your two consecutive orgasms still simmering in the pit of your stomach, and you allow yourself a moment to bask in that feeling. 

Finally, you force yourself out of bed. It isn’t that it hits you exactly how tired your body is – your thighs are sore, your core is aching, your head a little woozy. Still, your mind flashes back to how good it felt to have Seokjin’s hips slamming into you, and a flutter stirs in your belly.

Wincing a little, you get up and head to the bathroom, wriggling into an old tee.

Your cat Kale meows a hello at you as you shuffle down your hallway, and you pause to bend down and give him a cuddle.

“I got laid last night,” You tell your cat in a serious voice. He just stares up at you and then meows loudly, like he’s cheering you on. You laugh. 

Your house is silent, that nice calm that only the weekend can bring. You haven’t felt this relaxed in weeks. In fact, most weekends you can’t even sleep in properly, feeling too highly strung to sleep past 8am. But this morning… your eyes flicker to the clock hanging in your hallway and a tiny, giddy smile settles on your lips. It’s 11AM. 

You push open your bathroom door, still smiling. 

“Oh my GOD!” 

The exclamation spills out of your mouth when you spot Seokjin standing at your sink. He’s shirtless, dressed in just his tight black Calvin Klein briefs, rummaging through your drawer with a determined look on his face.

“You’re still here?” You ask in disbelief. “Are you going through my skincare? What the hell?” 

Seokjin glances up when he hears the commotion, not at all fazed.

“Yeah, do you have any facial cleanser? A better brand than this, preferably.” He gazes down in distaste at your drugstore brand cleanser. You’re momentarily shocked before you walk towards him, snatching the cleanser out of his hand.

“Not for you I don’t!” You snap, and Seokjin shrugs, unbothered. 

“Whatever. I’ll just cleanse at home then.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Speaking of home,” You begin, putting your cleanser back in its place. “When are you going to you know, go home? It’s nearly midday!”

Jin stares at you, his face serious. “What are you talking about?” he says. “This is my home now.”

Your jaw drops and Jin bursts out into a loud laugh- that same windshield wiper laugh that you first heard in the bar.  

“You should’ve seen your face,” He sighs, pleased with himself before he returns his attention back to your skincare drawer, rifling through it.

“Stop! Going through my skincare,” You mutter, closing the drawer shut. “And you’re not funny, not even in the slightest.”

“Please,” Jin sniffs. “I’m hilarious.”

You give him a withering stare. “Quite the contrary,” You mutter. “You’re disgusting.” You eye him up and down critically, irritated that even after waking up he looks this good. He’s practically naked in your bathroom, his hair a ruffled mess from his sleep, a pillow crease marring one cheek, but he still manages to look good. It’s unfair.

Jin just shoots you an angelic smile. “You didn’t seem to find me quite so disgusting when I was fucking you right there last night.” He nods over at your shower and smirks triumphantly at the pink flush that spreads across your cheeks.

“Yeah well you didn’t seem like such a know it all hotshot when I had your dick in my mouth.”

Jin just smirks, you seethe. 

“Yeah you were pretty good with that actually. It’s nice to meet a woman who can handle all of this.” He nods down at his package.

“Did you just refer to your dick as ‘all of this’?” You ask scathingly, scrunching your nose in distaste. Jin just shrugs nonchalantly and you roll your eyes. 

Kale wanders into the bathroom, winding around Seokjin’s legs, meowing loudly. 

“Kale likes you,” You comment in surprise. Seokjin glances up, smirking. “What can I say, I attract all kinds of puss-”

“Do not even think about finishing that sentence.” You interrupt, shooting Jin a withering stare. Kale meows again, rubbing his head against Jin’s calf affectionately.

“Why am I not surprised that you’re a cat person,” Jin mutters. “Dogs are much superior to cats. My dog Adam can-”

“Wait,” You cut him off. “You named your dog Adam?”

Jin just folds his arms stubbornly. “Yes. He’s British.” 

You stare at him in disbelief before you laugh. “That’s such a weird name for a dog.”

Jin’s jaw drops, an offended look flashing across his face.

“How can you make fun of my dog’s name when you named your cat after the worst vegetable ever?”

You open your mouth to retort when you suddenly realize how close you’re standing to him. The tension is crackling off your body in waves, and before you can help yourself, your eyes fall on his lips. 

A long, heavy beat hangs between the two of you, and you realize that your entire body is humming in anticipation. Kale is still sitting by Jin’s legs. The bizarreness of the situation has you suddenly suppressing a giggle.

“… So do you wanna go for round two-”

“NO!” You yell stubbornly, whirling around. “Get out, I need to use the bathroom, and for God’s sake put on some clothes!” 

You shove him out of the bathroom and turn to face your reflection, letting out a sigh. 

The last thing you expected was for him to actually stick around.

After you’re finished in the bathroom, you walk outside only to see a fully dressed Jin waiting for you.

“Look,” Jin says hastily, stepping towards you. “I was thinking last night. We were good.” He says the words with a completely serious expression. “Really good. Like, I’m probably gonna get off to the thought of you over the next few days good.” 

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew.”

“Seriously,” Jin continues. “I have needs. I get horny. And to be completely honest with you, not a lot of girls know how to handle me and my cock.”

You glare at him. “You are so full of yourself.”

Jin shrugs. “It’s true. I mean, that was the best blowjob of my life,” He grins at you. “And honestly? I wanted you from the second I saw you last night. You looked damn good,” His voice lowers into a murmur, his eyes intent on yours. You feel your resolve tremble. “And you are damn good.” 

A little tingle of pride eases its way up your spine from his words, causing your ego to flare. You attempt to suppress it, giving Seokjin a hard look.  

“Your point is?” 

“I was thinking… we should make this a thing. We can sleep with each other if we’re in need of a good fuck. We don’t have to call each other, we don’t even have to pretend that we care about each other… we’ll just you know. Help each other out when we need it.” He grins. You just raise an eyebrow at him. 

“What, friends with benefits?”

Jin just gives you a dry look. “That requires us to be friends, and…”

“No chance I’d ever be friends with someone like you.” You finish bluntly. Jin nods. “And vice versa.”

You stare at him suspiciously, biting your lip. “You’re serious,” You say slowly. “We call each other up when we need sex. Just sex… and…” 

“No obligations. It doesn’t even have to be regular if you don’t want it to be. Fuck buddies. Minus the buddies. I mean… it was good. Right?” He leans in a little closer and you breathe in sharply. Your mind flashes back to him, how it felt to have his hands and his mouth on your lips, on your skin. Your eyes fall on his full lips, the sincerity in his eyes… and you can’t help but wonder what that handsome face would look like between your thighs. 

“Yep,” You admit, swallowing. Jin’s face stretches out into a smile, his gaze unwavering.

“Okay,” You mutter, grabbing his wrist. “C’mere.” You drag him to your kitchen, ignoring Jin’s yelps of protest. You stop in front of your kitchen bench, grabbing the notepad and pen you keep there. Jin’s rubbing his wrist and muttering to himself but you ignore him, scribbling on the yellow lined paper.

“Alright.” You say, shoving the notepad at him and propping your hands on your hips. “Read that.”

Jin raises an eyebrow. “What’s this?” He glances down at the paper. “Hereby is the contract for Kim Seokjin and Y/N.” He recites, pausing. 

“That’s your last name?” His nose wrinkles. “It’s weird.”

Your jaw drops. “Weird – it’s a name!”

Jin shrugs. “It’s weird.” 

You force yourself to calm down and you sigh. “That is not the point. Keep reading it.”

Jin shrugs and continues. “…Jin and Y/N will have a purely physically relationship. They will not get involved with one another beyond the act of sex. They have no obligations to one another and can withdraw from the agreement at any given time.” He glances up and looks at you with disbelief. “Did you make a fuck buddy contract? Are you serious?”

You nod. “Yep. Keep reading.”

He sighs and continues.

“They can sleep with other people and do what they want. Protection is to be used at all times. No cuddling, no pet names, no dates, just sex. Y/N did you really write this whole thing in third person-” 

“Yes! That is not the point!”

“God, you are such a lawyer. Can I add a bit of my own?” 

You shrug, and he grabs the pen, scribbling something on the bottom of the pad.

“Okay…” You nibble your lip as you read what he’s written. “God you have messy handwriting… ‘no texting, no calling’.” You look up at him questioningly.

“I hate all that stuff,” He explains with a shrug. “How’s your day been? All that shit. No thank you. No texts, no calls. Unless they’re of the booty call variety.”

You think it over and nod. 

“No texting or calling sounds good to me. In fact, let’s just minimize the contact as much as possible. If we want to have sex, we should send each other like one word, and it’s either a thumbs up or thumbs down response. That’s it.”

“What, like an emoji as a code for a booty call?”

You shrug. “Yeah, whatever.”

Jin nods slowly, his eyebrows creased in thought before he grabs at the paper again, writing something. You glance over his shoulder.

“No texting, no calling. Except for texting the eggplant emoji, which will mean, do you want to bang- Oh my god!” You glare at Jin. “You’re. So. Gross.”

“The eggplant makes sense, I mean…” Jin glances down at his crotch and you make an impatient noise and grab the notepad.

“Okay, okay, whatever. Let’s move on. Eggplant emoji it is. Does this sound good to you?” You wave the paper in the air and he nods. 

“Well I mean it all sounds good to me.” Jin says confidently, snatching the paper and signing it. 

He passes it back to you.

“Your move.” 

You’re a little taken aback, a small part of you you hadn’t really expected him to go ahead and sign it. 

You stare at him for a beat, wondering if you can really go through with this. Have an arrangement like this with a guy like him. 

But then again, what else have you got to lose? It’s so easy- the promise of sending one emoji and getting laid, easy as that. You still have freedom, and he has his. No feelings, no risk of getting burned by a guy. No secondguessing all his words and actions, no getting hurt by aforementioned words and actions.

Just lots of nights like yesterday’s- great sex, a deep sleep, and absolutely no emotions.

You glance at Jin uncertainly. 

It’s not like you could ever fall for him. You don’t even like him. 

And so, you put pen to paper, signing your name with a flourish. You whirl around and whack the makeshift contract on your fridge, pinning it in place with a magnet. 

Jin’s watching you, a mildly amused expression on his face.

“Done.” You say, turning and outstretching your hand confidently.

Jin gives you that familiar, easy smirk, before he grips your hand.

“Done.”

A/N: pls anticipate more Kale in future chapters

[offtothepictures]

mamma mia! (2008) - part 1

mamma mia! is a musical starring meryl streep and amanda seyfried (post-mean girls but pre-les mis), in which seyfried’s character sophie discovers she has three potential dads and invites all three of them to her wedding on an idyllic greek island. got all that? and the best and DEFINITELY most important aspect? it’s allllll ABBA songs baby. talk about culture clash (1970s sweden vs 2008 greece? actually we’ll come to the 2008 part later). it’s cheesy and raucous and loud and sweet and an utter riot of joy, and the only musical my best friend actually doesn’t hate. and his excuse for hating musicals is that they’re cheesy so i think someone needs to work on their argument.

hi everyone! so love island has finished, i’ve just got back from holiday to torrential rain – thanks england – and meryl streep owns my ass, so before i go and see mamma mia! here we go again a gazillion more times (and meet the director AGHHHHH yes that’s actually happening) i’m gonna review the first one! bear in mind that i’ve seen this film literally 100 million times please. i can’t actually stress how much i adore this film and it’s my comfort film that i watch when I’m sad or ill or tired or bored in history. i’ll pick holes in the technical aspects of it but just know that i would die for this film. got it? lets go.

visually, it’s a pretty film. nothing toooo wild or groundbreaking (like florals for spring) but it’s saturated and dusty and bright and 100% suits the tone and setting of the film. it also has a softness and realness to it that i feel we don’t get anymore from hollywood in 2018 – if a film isn’t crisp and chockablock with cgi and visual effects, then it’s not making bank, and that includes you, new mamma mia. from a glance at this film, you know it’s set in the mediterranean. also the faded and bright quality of the film evoke some of the 70s imagery, not only of ABBA but of donna’s (meryl streep) past.

the costumes are also gorgeous and so camp and bright and cheesy! mamma mia! knows what film it is and keeps itself campy and cheesy without skimping on quality, and this is especially prevalent in the disco costumes, particularly super trouper and the end credits (which are oscar worthy in themselves lets be honest)

so I know it was originally a west end musical and having source material makes screenwriting easier, but i love the way the songs are worked in. nothing feels forced and once again, the crew didn’t have to compromise on quality by changing most of the words, which is a relief to the avid ABBA fan. and yes, this is a complaint i’ll revisit in my mamma mia! here we go again review.

why does sophie go post her letters on the mainland at midnight? did she sneak out? didn’t donna or sky question this?

also this will come up again a bit later but why do they have to shoot night scenes during the day and then try to colour correct? It’s just PAINFUL. can’t y’all shoot at night? jesus. also this is my theory as to why they cut the name of the game later in the film with bill and sophie – because it looked like shite!!!

this is EVIDENTLY SHOT DURING THE DAY CAN’T Y’ALL EVEN TRY?! THAT IS FUCKING SUNLIGHT BUT I GUESS MAYBE I’M WRONG AND THAT’S NOT HOW LIGHT WORKS

I ALWAYS THOUGHT THE SONG WAS “I’M TALL I’M TALL I’M TINY” BUT I GUESS I’M WRONG also i love that being ‘tough’ is this scottish girl’s quantifier in her friendship group. is that racist? smh mamma mia u ain’t woke

you know what isn’t fucking mentioned once in mamma mia 2? (yes i am already sick of typing out the whole damn name so this is what you get) BILL’S ICONIC EYE TATTOOS. okay butch count olaf i see u sweetie

did they hire christine baranski before or after this line was written? because either way that’s…………. savage

this is 1000000% a whole ass reach but is sophie wearing three little stars on her necklace to represent her dads? Because that’s some adorable shit right there

this is still the coolest scene transition ever imo

okay why have they got sophie doing these anime-ass gasps when she sees her dads for the first time lmao

QUESTION: how did sophie meet her two friends? did they stay on the island? this IS a question i’ll be asking director of mamma mia! here we go again ol parker when i see him in two weeks. also WHERE ARE THEY IN THE SECOND MOVIE FFS

and on that note how does sophie know sky?

sooooo this film is supposedly set in 2000? if sophie is born in 1980 according to the second mamma mia film…… so sky is setting up a website for donna in 2000? i did some research trying to trip the film up for not actually being set in 2000 when it was released but i can’t find anything incriminating. just know….. that i know the truth. you can’t hide from me phyllida lloyd.

Is aunt sophia dead?

the guy who hits on tanya does have a name and it is pepper. i was initially wondering why it wasn’t mentioned in the film but now i guess i know why. also it is shouted at him at some point in the second act but i guess i just thought they were….. hurling abuse?? idk

the level of innuendo in this film that completely went over my head as an 8-year-old is unreal

also shoutout to my friend hannah for not realising harry is gay even though he basically says it. and makes out with a dude. and sings take a chance on me to him which is honestly the most convincing part. love you han x

harry’s greek boyfriend is actually called petros or smth but he looks like a fabio so we’re calling him fabio

okay here’s where we’ll leave part 1!! keep ya peepuhs peeled (not ya noggin. god that’s quite the reference) for part 2!!

[theafrodeity]

Church Belles - Part 3

I glanced at the chrome clock on the wall once again. Only five minutes had gone by since the last time I had checked. Why does time move so slowly when you’re not having fun? Also why did we still have clocks with Roman numerals which delayed how long it took your brain to process time by at least another 2 seconds. The sheer irony of it all! I shifted around in my seat and grunted audibly. Ok, maybe I needed to calm down. “Sena, was there something you wanted to add to that?” Oko raised his bushy eyebrows at me. “No, I think we’ve gone over all our concerns. I’ll draft a letter of agreement and send it over to you by Friday.” My response was shrill as I tried to hide my impatience and irritation. “Sounds wonderful! Me daa se[1].” Mrs. Koranteng beamed, slamming her red talon-like acrylic nails on the conference room table. “Ok, let’s go over their sales numbers again so I can be sure I understand it.” It took all of my will power not to roll my eyes.

Had it been any other day, I would have been thrilled to be in Mrs. Koranteng’s presence. She was such a powerful force in Ghanaian second-hand goods trade, president of the Makola Market Women’s Association, and the main distributor of most household brands in the country. Her diamond rings almost blinded us as the rays of sunlight reflected off of them. Everything about this woman glistened and screamed opulence, from the stone beads bordering her gigantic kaba[2] sleeves, right down to her white teeth which contrasted her smooth glowy dark skin each time she gave me that wide I-have-fuck-you-money grin. Our most valued client, no doubt, and I was impressed by how quickly she had turned her inheritance from her late husband into a fortune at 42 years. Her constant show of affection and warmth masked how meticulous and ruthless she could be in negotiations. Growing up in the busy streets of Kumasi had toughened her up into becoming a master haggler. Her hands were slightly callused, perhaps remnants from an early farm life. Still she was comfortable with patiently letting the experts talk in circles before interjecting with tough questions or a final well thought out plan.

Today’s meeting was no exception. We were providing legal counsel for a new chain of supermarkets Mrs. Koranteng’s company, GyeNyame[3] Inc was acquiring and had presented a very detailed proposal. However, I quickly realized that this meeting might drag on longer than expected since Mrs. Koranteng  did not want to spend a single pesewa[4] above what she considered to be a fair price. Then suddenly she glanced at her phone, smiled to herself and changed her mind. “Actually, I have to leave now but let’s schedule another meeting soon. I’ll review them with my accountant tomorrow. Thank you so much Mr. Quartey and Ms. Kondoh.” I could have hugged her in that moment but instead Oko and I shook hands with her and walked her to her Porsche. On the way back we speculated about whether the message on her phone had been from the young actor she was rumored to have been dating. Oko was a cool boss; very down-to-earth with a calm confidence. If he weren’t already married, we could have made a great couple because there was such an ease with our conversations and we rarely ever disagreed about anything. I glanced at my phone and noticed 5 missed calls from Carla. I was late for our bi-weekly nail appointment so I said goodbye to Oko and dashed down the hallway to head out to lunch.

Thirty minutes later, warm bubbles were caressing my feet and Akua the owner of Luxury Nails & Spa was diligently filing my finger nails. “You can’t keep me in suspense any longer. What happened?!”. Carla’s dramatic tone made me chuckle. She was sitting in the chair next to me. Her curly hair was cropped low and dyed blonde. She was wearing a loose colourful graffiti t-shirt which hugged her bra-less C-cup bosom, over ripped jeans shorts. For a second, I let the envy wash over me as I glanced down at my crisp white long-sleeved shirt and grey pleated skirt. Carla sold decorative pieces and modern African print clothing at the Art Centre and sang at the Jubilee Jazz bar to an audience of wealthy politicians on weekends for a living. She was able to afford a nice home and got to wear whatever she wanted during the week, while I worked 60-hour weeks in a skirt suit and still lived with my parents. However, I felt fortunate to still have one of my childhood best friends to hang out with routinely. Like the dating scene in Accra over the age of 30, female friends were also slim pickings as they all disappeared into domestic life after marriage. Somehow, fun edgy Carla insisted that she was living vicariously through me and kept pestering me for details about my date with Fiifi.

“What do you want me to say? We had a nice dinner and some wine and talked about life.” I avoided her eyes.

“Girl! I wanna hear about dessert though!” I burst out laughing at her ridiculous imitation of an African American accent.

Chills cut through my belly, the kind you got on a roller coaster ride, as flashes of the night before came back to me. I was hunched over the back of the sofa and my black dress had ridden up above my waist. Fiifi paused for what felt like a lifetime behind me before pulling my panties to the side and holding on to them like an equestrian gripping on to the reins of a prized thoroughbred. He whistled at the sight of my naked derrière and I felt a cool breeze against my exposed skin. Without warning he grabbed my waist and pushed up against me. The delicious pain shot through my abdomen, my thighs, then down my leg as I felt the first short thrusts. He started off with a slow rhythm, then gradually picked up speed until he was slamming into me. The clash of my wetness and wobbling behind against his muscular thighs created a slurping slapping melody that drove us both wild. “Please” I whispered urgently through gritted teeth. I wasn’t sure what my pleas were for but he seemed to understand because he smacked my ass in response and it sent fresh ripples of ecstasy through my body. He let go of my waist and gathered my braids into a pony tail pulling them towards him and arching my back. I screamed as the thrusts got deeper and felt a little ball of fire growing in my stomach causing me to hungrily push back against him. My vaginal walls instinctively clenched around his throbbing member trying to absorb every ounce of sensation from each movement. Out of nowhere he stopped and bent over to kiss me. I moaned and kissed him back hungrily.

“Seriously, you’re not gonna tell me?” Carla was jabbing at my shoulder now, snapping me out of my reverie. Akua had stopped filing my nails now and was waiting to hear my response too. “Fine, we might have made out a little bit.” I conceded, still flustered. Akua returned to her filing, evidently bored.

“Sena!! You’re so bad. You guys are like a thing now. When’s the wedding?”

“Hehehe. Oh we’re taking things slow. He literally just got divorced.”

“Good point. Things could get complicated. I think you should just try and have fun. You’re always so uptight.”

“Here we go again. Not all of us have sugar daddies sponsoring us low key.” I teased, knowing full well that Carla preferred women. Still she had gotten pregnant five years ago with a former minister who helped set up her shop.

“I wish! I get a few tips here and there but Amina is starting kindergarten soon and that means I need to step it up and make some more money.”

“Wow, she’s grown up so fast. Are you going to reach out to Jessica?”

Jessica, Carla and I had been dorm mates at St. Maria’s High School. Jessica had always intimidated me with how strictly she adhered to the school rules and how often she would scold Carla and I for being late to mass or for not making our beds before class when she was appointed school prefect. Somehow, she and Carla had gotten along fabulously even though Carla was the biggest deviant in our class. 

One night I had snuck out of class during prep time, our mandatory night study session, to take a nap in our dorm room. Light sucking sounds greeted me in the darkness as soon as I opened the door - the silhouette of two young women rolling around on Carla’s bed playing out before me. Jessica and Carla panicked when I let out a cough thinking it was our house mistress. They later begged me not to tell a single soul and I had remained tight-lipped for over a decade. Nevertheless, Jessica had never forgiven me for walking in on them and had only grown more distant over the years as if it were somehow my fault for discovering their secret.

“She’s Sister Jessica now, don’t forget.” Carla corrected me. “Yes, I have an interview with her on Friday. Wanna come with? I might need backup.”

“Err…ok. If you insist.  I’m still not sure why even you need to go through an interview process to enrol your child.” Carla knew Jessica and I didn’t quite get along. We had even less in common now that she was a nun and the headmistress of a catholic preparatory school.

“Oh I think it’s just a formality. Any excuse to see me, I guess.” Carla and I both giggled knowingly.

[1] Means Thank you in Akan.

[2] A festive traditional blouse for women

[3] A popular saying meaning “Except with God”, a longer translation meaning something can only be accomplished with God’s help

[4] Lower unit of Ghanaian currency, no longer in use.

[itsleafourie]

My little Endgame.

There is a type of paradoxical creature inside of me.

One second I want to devote my entire life to studying the academics and subjects such as law. Then the next second, my mind wanders off to a destination such as art, literature, philosophy, history and all the shit in our reality that makes us basically question our entire existence. When people ask, “What is your ultimate dream in life?” It always comes down to me wanting to leave the same feeling of questioning and examination of our interpretations of reality, in the minds of our society behind. Basically, I would love to mind-fuck people. For me, the ultimate indication of a wealthy individual is education, intelligence, emotional growth and how great our ability is of interpreting others’ situations and circumstances are, and then implementing this new found wisdom into our everyday lives.

So basically, what I’m trying to say is, I deal with a shit ton of thinking each and every day. For example, asking someone of my age a simple question such as, “How are you feeling?” And then replying with the most simple and common answer of, well, pretty great. For me, it becomes a full on class discussion inside my mind. Every Lea Fourie that every existed starts to debate about different responses. They take things further like, “Why did they ask that? Is it because of my body language? Is body language a natural occurrence or did humans trick themselves into thinking that there is something to look in how a person is sitting? Does this suggest self-centeredness that we naturally assume people are continuously lying to our faces, thus we feel the need to search for a lie? Is the way I’m reacting to this body-language debate initiating anxiety? Is this reaction an indication of my childhood trauma of feeling isolated from my fellow peers? There must be some phycological explanation…” And the discussion never seems to stop.

Listen, I’m not a self-breed mess of anxiety and stress. In fact, I respond the same exact way that this average individual would respond. I just have an extra little hidden equation at the end of my answer. Something only I can see. There’s this constant conversation that I’m having with my consciousness. Some breaking-the-third-wall-of-my-personality shit. It doesn’t make me more fucked up than the rest of the world, it just makes me a little more entuned with my nature, emotions, and thought process.

Or maybe I’ll be one of those adults at the reunions who speaks frantically about the world ending in 13 hours because of some government based disease being bred on the Antarctica plate or some shit. You know, one of those individuals who spits some freaky truth about the capitalistic system messing up our society, environment and phycological selves, even though the original conversation was only about the prices being lifted at our school’s tuckshop. I take a mundane complaint like an expensive muffin to the next level. Hell, to the 87th level. Within a minute of that convo being born, I’ve got you questioning your entire contribution within this system and shaping you into a conspiracist against the world economy. Just like that, an average muffin goes from being, well, average to some universal weed infused mind-fuck potion that got you hating yourself and every person you’ve ever encountered. Within an instant, opinions and this magical train of thought that I experience, gets shared with another individual.

Shit, now that I think of it, maybe a life as a conspiracy-theory ambassador seems quite fitting for me.

Just a PSA, I’m kidding. Or am I? I could be making this entire interpretation of my brain up as we’re going along. Hell, I could be manipulating you into thinking I’m some profound individual who’s constantly philosophising about the meaning of life. You know, someone who just casually discovers what the meaning of the universe is while collecting my Ice Gelado at our local Vida E Caffe as a study break, with almond milk of course, being lactose intolerant. (Now that’s some next level capitalistic first world problem.) Got your train of thought speeding now, don’t I? Relax, I can confirm that I am, in fact, a truthful and over-analysing bitch (with a huge diary allergy problem.)

And discovering the meaning of the universe is more of a bedtime self-care activity.

I’d rather be some mentally-confused goose who’s constantly on a wild chase for some new profound intelligence than some fucktard that refuses to accept any possibility of an opinion or statistic or story or reality that might challenge his precious values and viewpoints of life. I say it’s against our nature to live such shallow and empty lives. Let us live lives with constant pain, disappointment, change, arguments and discoveries. Let us live lives full of experiences.

To come back to the original message of this discussion: I am a living paradox. It is because of these constant conversations inside of me that I am like this. It feels like the parliament of South Africa throwing around chairs and yelling out insignificant remarks up there. But somehow, it all works. Somehow, I’m sitting in the chair enjoy this wonderful scene of word violence going on. It amuses, frightens and excites me, all at the same time. Maybe the comparison to the parliament isn’t quite accurate, considering that my version is more a continuous friendly (but violent) banter about newer and more improved versions of opinions and ideas. It’s liberating, it’s empowering and it’s wonderful. Less than a negative parliament attacking each other and more like the legendary fight scene in Endgame. My friend, I am not a person who gets emotional about Marvel films, but that scene got me feeling some type of way. It’s this fight inside of my brain about better and newer ideologies that excites me, because that means growth and change is coming. This debate got me sitting on the edge of the seat, throwing my popcorn everywhere and admiring how these empowering women are fighting together for a common goal of a better future. Did Lea Fourie just compare the biggest blockbuster movie of 2019 to her own imaginative reality of self-growth? You sure right I did.

You see, if I wasn’t challenging myself by writing this piece, I would have never made this ground-breaking discovering of my own little Endgame. And, to be honest, I developed a little insecurity about my writing over the years. It started in grade 7, when I realized that a noticeably amount of 13-year-olds were getting a lot better marks for their essays about the Colourful Caterpillar than I was. It was because of this, that the fear of putting myself out there and improving my writing became something I avoided. Even though I loved reading and telling stories, it scared the living poop out of me to phantom my thought constellations  into physical words. I’d rather prefer them hanging up in the night sky, than ever physically exanimating and studying them. I acknowledged that they were there, but I just kept looking at the ground whenever they would come say hi. So here’s this one side of little Lea, anxious about writing stories trying to drown out to other Lea, who is in love with the idea of writing stories. What a bittersweet tragedy.

Because of this fear and weird paradox inside of me, I just decided to ignore all confrontation. I ignored everything that could possibly produce some type of outcome or conclusion surrounding my writing skills, because I was scared that it would threaten what I already know. I was so sure of my poor writing skills, that the idea of improving or discovering a further love for writing, scared me. The idea of challenging what I thought and how I thought others viewed my writing, really made me curl into a small anxious ball. It’s like believing that strawberry milkshakes are the best flavour, like, ever. But then you taste the chocolate flavour and you got yourself questioning your trust in your taste buds. Then shit gets even more wacko and you get introduced to the love of your life, coffee. You lived your entire childhood almost religiously knowing chocolate and strawberry milkshakes are the dominant drink, and now with this new founded caffeine addiction, your entire meaning of existence is falling apart. On top of that, you realize you’re fucking lactose intolerant. Thanks universe, now I’ve got a Romeo and Juliet vibe happening between me and my childhood crush, and I’ve got an addiction. (Sometimes, even a working stomach)

This paradox stretches to whenever I should focus on my school work or on my artistic elements. Should I care what others think or should I focus on what I think of myself? Do I like genuinely like the trend of Netflix and YouTube or am I forcing myself to enjoy this act of staring at a screen for some temporary distraction, just so that I can fit in with my peers? Do I actually enjoy Instagram or am I just using it because people deem it as a necessity? Is Nickelback actually a good band or does the only reason why I avoid listening to their music is because of that godforsaken vine. I mean, according to countless graphs (tehe), our generation is the most entuned with other’s opinions or stories. But does this mean that we should implement these elements onto our own personalities? Must we accept this as constructive feedback? Or should we see it as a negative factor, something that is destroying our self-assurances and negatively influential our daily choices? Got the train of thought working at full-speed again.

This paradox-mess is the fuel behind the fire that sparks these weird ass debates inside my head. And I love it. This paradox enfuses different interests and opinions to form inside of me. This paradox is confirmation that no matter how hard I try, I am always going to be on the search for change or for something new. I think, the reason why I’m so hesitant to embrace this paradoxical mess is because our modern society despise indifferences and the feeling of the unknown. We are all programmed to think that we are equally special, equally constructed, equally wired and just equal in every single way possible. But, it’s honestly just a façade to ensure economic and capitalistic success, if you ask me. Equality does not mean that everyone in our society has the exact same contributes and attributes, it just means that even though we have such a vast diversity of qualities in our genetic codes, we still need to treat everyone with the same equal amount of respect.

I say embrace  your paradox. Embrace your uncertainty and your questioning. Never stop asking questions and never stop admiring the wonderful parliament fighting inside of you. It’s what makes us human, after all.

[travellingthoughts]

Friday the 7th of July 2017

After 4 days in Zakynthos/Kefalonia I was on a journey and a half to Larissa. Literally travelled by boat, car, taxi and bus over an 11 hour journey. I loved it though because I could just relax after being so busy in Zakynthos. Anyone who knows me well knows that I literally sleep my life away! I can sleep at what ever time, in whatever position and literally be out cold. It certainly has come in handy on this trip I'll tell you that much! So I slept the entire journey no problems asked. In Larissa, I was staying with Jamie's Nouna, Dina, for the week! Larissa is a relatively large town north of Athens. It has it all; amazing shopping, lively night life, and most importantly lovely people. I have a LOT of family there like legit we sat down to have dinner and two of my cousins (which I didn't know I had) just happened to walk past! I spent my first couple of days getting a tattoo (which was an awesome and sentimental experience) and roaming around Larissa doing some shopping and discovering. However on the third day I woke up ill as fuck. Like my stomach was in so much pain so I kept going to bed thinking that I'll wake up feeling better.... which never happened. Ended up realising at 8:30pm at night that it just wasn't to happen and finally got out of bed. After that it's a bit of a blur because my SISTERS GOT OUT OF A TAXI AND SURPRISED THE FUCK OUT OF ME IN GREECE!!!!!! Oh my god it was fkn wild, I literally had no clue they were coming. About a week before this happened I was on the phone telling them to just book their fkn tickets and come and lie with my on a beach somewhere in Santorini. Little did I know the bitches were muting themselves on our phone call and laughing because they HAD ALREADY BOOKED THEIR TICKETS 😆 The joke was clearly on me! Check out on Facebook the video of my jaw literally hitting the floor, the swearing, the scream and the many cuddles that were shared when this all unfolded! What an incredible experience to be able to share such an amazing journey with two of my bestest friends. I still pinch my self when I get their phone call in the morning saying 'what are we doing today?' ☺️ In all seriousness though, thank the lord they have me because A) they were fighting within the first 5 minutes of arriving in Mykonos, B) they are weak as shit and can't carry 25kgs up 50 stairs so I had to do it FOR BOTH OF THEM and C) they have no clue what they're doing so I am pretty much their personal tour guide 🙃 We have already had so many laughs and fun times, and I know these are memories that will last a lifetime. Anyway back to Larissa. It turned out I had fkn drunk the water by accident in Zakynthos and became sick as a fkn dog for the next 6 days. Literally whatever went down my throat came out again within maximum 5 minutes. Couldn't keep anything in my stomach, not even water. As shitty (pun intended) as being sick was, I definitely was very lucky to have my sisters constantly checking up on me and the fact that I was with my family who went above and beyond to get me on the road to recovery. Wouldn't have had it any other way. So my fun in Larissa ended after Tez and Jays arrived 😂 We did go to Karditsa, Farsala and Stomio to see more family which was fantastic. The girls went to Thessaloniki as well but I didn't make it because I was still really sick. Before I knew it (...literally because I had slept my life away!!) we were on our way to Piraeus which is one of the main ports of Greece. Conveniently, Terri's Nona lives there with her family so we stayed for a night before catching the 7am ferry to Mykonos the next day. That night was so much fun, we went for a stroll around town and went to Haagen-Daaz for some waffles and icecream! It wasn't what we did but it was the amazing company we had 😍 The 7am kick off to get to Mykonos was interesting 😂 As per usual we were running late and how we made it on that boat is fkn beyond me. The ride consisted of Terri not allowing me to fall asleep because everything single time I almost did, she would tickle my nose or something ridiculous. Could have punched her square in the face but decided that wasn't the best idea...so I made her buy me a hot chocolate which cost 5.80€ 😂 Our first impression of Mykonos is that it's fucking stunning. Whatever image comes to your head (crystal clear beaches with white houses on hills) is EXACTLY what it was like. However we were fortunate enough to discover the island from North to South and East to West. We hired a car and I, the driver, officially banned Terri from being in the front seat because she almost pulled the handbrake on me twice ❌ While the main town looks picturesque, the rest is actually quite hilly, rocky, windy and underdeveloped. It was astonishing to see the island for what it really is, with some of the most amazing beaches and hidden gems we would have only discovered by hiring that car. Highly suggest it... however there is a funny story that comes along with that 😂 So Greeks drive like fucking crazy okay. That's the perfect and only intro you need into this story. I was going down a really narrow and windy road when another car comes speeding around a corner (how the fuck they didn't spin out idk?) and is pretty much in my lane now still going fast. So I slam on the brake (dirt road btw so skidded instead of halted) and pulled over. In the process, I marked the car with about a 2.5cm BLACK scratch on a WHITE CAR. I was gutted because I knew they were going to notice it when we returned the car and that they were going to charge me a fuck tonne for it. So we go to the damn beach we were driving to when this happened and were then driving to the next beach when I spot a fucking mechanics (and probably the only one on the island) and swerve in like James Bond. And can I say I had luck just like James Bond! I'm trying to communicate in Greek to this guy and he is literally laughing at me stressing #bitch. He tells me to wait a minute and before I know he comes back with a cloth and some charcoal coloured substance. I freak out even more because like I said it's a white car and I'm thinking that he will make it worse #lenthinkingsheknowseverything. He rubs it on the car and then like magic before my eyes, the mark was gone. I literally told him that I love him and that he saved my life and that he is the best person to walk this earth. And before I could even finish we were back on our way dancing like absolute idiots out of pure joy 🙃 Mykonos is by far my favourite island out of the 3; including Ios and Santorini. It is absolutely stunning by day and night, the beaches are crystal clear and is good for a great boogie. My only fault is that it's expensive as fuck. But so so worth it. I met some amazing people in my dorm (you know who you are) and proceeded to go out until the AM partying and bar (that did just get autocorrected to bae) hoping. We had so much luck that night because every place we went to we were treated like royalty. Skipped the lines, skipped the entry fee, got given free shots and drinks. It was to die for 😍 The night ended with Souvlaki's and a really drunk walk home 😂 Next stop was Ios. I fkn loved Ios for its party scene. I FROTH a good time and that's the vibe that Ios had. Funny story: when we rocked up by bus at FarOut I was laughing because we saw teeny ass canvas tents and I said 'that would suck if you had to stay in one of them'. Before I know it I received my keys and found my... MOTHERFUCKING TENT FML 😫 Don't know how I fucked up so bad but like legit this thing had a door that was just about off its hinges, a "window" that was made of a holy mesh (mosquito friendly which means Eleni says ❌❌❌), and beds that should have been bought by a massage parlour. The girls (who at least booked a place with aircon and walls) weren't happy with their room either, so we upgraded to a villa with three beds and a bathroom! Fuck yessssssss! Life in Ios was pretty sweet after the accomodation sitch was sorted. We didn't do much exploring like we did in Mykonos. Partying by day and night was the plan ✔️ Met some sick chickens whilst partying, and also spent loads of time with Jack, Yianni, Emma, Jess and Amy who we knew from home. Bar crawls and wet t-shirt contests were (regrettably) attended. Let's just say... anyone who went on that stage in the wet tshirt comp would have needed a deadly amount of alcohol and a few types of drugs to morally get through. Other then partying double parked, time was spent on the beach or by the pool soaking up grecian rays ☀️ Then came the biggest disappointment that is Santorini. I should have never expected anything and that's why I feel let down. The white walls you see everyone taking photos of are pretty much only in Oia which is ridiculously expensive. It's the place to supposedly see the sunset but what you don't expect is thousands of tourists trying to get through streets which are 2 meters wide. Forget the balcony or castle where people take sunset pictures from. It is gorgeous though minus the tourists. However a positive is that they do have an entire street of clubs and bars so when you get bored at one, the next isn't too far away ☺️ Fira, another town close by where we stayed, was nice and lively but the streets in the centre couldn't compare to Mykonos'. As I'm writing this my time in the Greek islands is up. I'm on a ferry which came 1.5 hours late (welcome to Greek time...it's legit a thing) and is so rocky I think I'm going over board. My next few days include Athens with my Nouna and Nono. Going to take my sisters around to see some sights and then will go to The Ranch (where my god brother works) and say our final goodbyes :( So excited for my family's cuddles and kisses 😍 It's a good night from me xx P.S- wish me luck because the boat is about to tip P.P.S - I can't swim or even doggy paddle. P.P.P.S- the last PPS reminds me of another LOL- in Santorini, the girls and I did a tour to the volcano, thermal springs, Thirasia and Oia. When we reached the hot springs, which is literally in the middle of the ocean next to the rocks, Jamie and I thought it would be a fabulous idea to suss it out. So we jumped off the boat into the water and the waves were going over our heads. We start laughing (out of pure panic) because we can't swim for shit and it made trying to battle the waves so much harder. We looked at eachother whilst all of this was going on and knew what we were both thinking; that we are going to drown. I told Jamie to calm down and just keep your body afloat. Anyway, we clearly made the 200m distance back to the boat because I'm writing this now P.P.P.P.S - don't tell my mum that last story because I'll cop an ear full 😂