#and those songs... the lyrics... not to be too deep but nothing has ever made me feel better about myself

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: YOU SPEAK HIS NATIVE LANGUAGE TO HIM (18+) (One Piece) (for Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: I had this idea after remembering that Luffy is Brazilian. Enjoy! And please, PLEASE let me know if any of the foreign phrases used are not correct or accurate. I did the research on Google. Thank you! -Jazz 🩷🩷

*********

LUFFY (PORTGUESE) 

You always loved it when Luffy spoke in his native language. 

He is from Brazil and though he hadn’t lived there in years since meeting Shanks and traveling among the Grand Line with the Strawhats crew, nothing and nobody could ever take the Brazilian out of him. It was in his blood. 

He always made it known with the Brazilian recipes he would ask Sanji to make and the music he would blast across the ship. Usually, this resulted in him forcing you to dance him with and holding your hips as his his swayed and rolled in ways that often resulted in your knees going weak and every part of you becoming tingly and sensitive (including the places where Luffy usually had his mouth on). 

He wouldn’t speak Portuguese often; only sometimes and at random moments, like when something exciting happened or when he was asleep. You would catch him mumbling words in his native tongue as he drooled on the pillow, making you giggle.

He would do it during sex too, usually when his tongue was buried deep in your pussy: “Você tem um gosto tão bom, mama. Deliciosa (You taste so good, mama. Delicious.),” he would mumble into your pussy while you whimpered and moaned.

Or when he had his cock buried deep inside of you as he hammered away at your insides, gripping and smacking your ass: “Tão bom! (So good!)” he’d moan into the bedroom. “C’mon, mama, cum with me! Goze comigo!” 

His usual high-pitched voice would get deeper and raspier in his native tongue as each foreign words rolled and flipped on his tongue. It would make you combust every single time, cumming all over his cock at the same time as him bursting inside of you. He would then peck your forehead once you snuggled up together, his hat on your head. “Te amo,” he’d whisper, never telling you what it meant, but you had a feeling. 

So after picking up on some of his lines and inflections, you decided to try out speaking his language one night. It was a boring night and Sanji was cooking, trying to get Luffy out of the kitchen as he groaned and complained about being hungry.

“Y/N, would you please come get him?” Sanji sighed. “He won’t leave and I’m not gonna have him sneaking the ingredients off of the counter to eat.” 

“I’m not gonna do that!” Luffy protested. “I told you so, Sanji!”

You had giggled and walked to the stereo sitting on the table, playing one of Luffy's favorite songs that was popular in Brazil. The captain’s head immediately shot up from the table, his big eyes staring at you. You smiled and began to sway to the music, opening your arms for him. 

With the biggest grin on his face, he shot up and went to you, immediately gathering you into his arms. You giggled as he pressed his face into the crook of your neck and held your hips as he began to sway with you, your senses invaded by nothing but him. He softly sang the lyrics to you, his voice raspy and soft, each word rolling off of the tongue. He sang has if the very song was written for you and you decided now was the perfect moment. 

“Luffy?” you whispered. He pulled away to look down at you, looking like a confused puppy. You cupped his face in your hands and pressed a kiss to his lips before whispering, very low, “Te amo.” 

Once those gears in his head started turning, you’ve never seen him look so happy. His smile grew about ten sizes before he gripped you to him and coated your face in kisses. “Hey, hey!” Sanji yelled. “Not while I’m cooking! Do that outside!” 

ZORO (JAPANESE) 

Compared to Luffy, Zoro barely spoke Japanese. 

He would only mutter his native language in swears when he was stressed or angry. Other than that, you could never catch him doing it. He barely even spoke about Japan as a whole.

“Why you askin’ so many questions?” he would grumble, glaring at your curious gaze. “I haven’t been there since I was a baby. Go read up on it or somethin’.” 

But when he did speak Japanese, and that was very rare, you loved it. His voice would get even deeper when he spoke the foreign swear words during a battle and it would make your heart skip several beats. You wanted to somehow coax him to speak it more or even be closer to him than you already were. 

So you started teaching yourself Japanese. You collected as many language books as you could during your stops on islands when walking into town with Nami and Robin and began practicing. In two months, you began speaking in sentences though not professionally or fluently. However, you got each inflection down. 

The first time you said something in Japanese to Zoro, he was busy working out one hot, boring day and you had wandered in, feeling extra bratty. “What?” he demanded, grunting as he did his bench presses, his muscles bulging and glistening in sweat. 

“Just came to see if you broke up with your dumbbell yet,” you asked sarcastically. “I don’t know how the cuddling at night works, but to each its own.” 

Zoro cut his forest green eyes your way before going back to his exercises, barely pausing. “Woman, if you’re gonna come in here with that shit, leave it at the door. You know I need to focus on my training.” 

“But you’re already so strong, Zo!” you protested, padding farther into the room. “And a great fighter. You can spare one day without training.”

Though Zoro looked pleased with the praise, he still didn’t let up and continued to pump those sexy arms away at his presses. Pursing your lips, you walked over to him and kneeled down before him, just as he lifted the dumbbell up and put it back up on the rack behind his head. 

You began to run your hands up his thick, tree trunk-like thighs in his green slacks, squeezing the muscles and digging your nails deliciously into them. He liked that. He tensed immediately at your touch, breathing heavily from the workout. “Stop that,” he growled. “I’m tryin’ to cool down.” 

“Then let me help you,” you purred, sneaking your hand over his cock to give it a squeeze. You were pleased to find that he was already hard. He grunted at the contact and began to squirm under your touch. “I mean it, Y/N,” he panted. “Cut it out.” 

You looked up at him then, staring boldly into his eyes. "Watashi o tsukuru (make me)”, you said in a low, breathy voice that often made your man go absolutely insane. 

At the sound of his native language coming from your lips, the swordsman sat up straight and stared down at you, astounded and extremely aroused. His cock grew in your hand as a blush appeared on his cheeks.

“What did you say?” he questioned, his voice dangerously low. You just smiled and stood up, tearing your hand away from his cock.

“Now are you gonna spend time with me?” you questioned, a hand on your hip and arching a brow at him. 

While this didn't get him out of the training room, it did help tear him away from his workout to instead work you out, your legs spread over his bench and his cock pummeling your insides as he whispered how good you felt in Japanese.

Mission accomplished. 

SANJI (FRENCH) 

Sanji always felt proud of his ethnicity and heritage, so he always made it a point to speak his native language. 

Like Luffy, it would be at random moments. He could be cooking and would mutter to himself in French about instructions or maybe lyrics to a song.

Sometimes, he would swear if he nearly dropped a bottle of sauce or about the noise Luffy and Usopp would make outside the kitchen door. But always, when he served you and the crew, he would give you all a bright, proud smile and a “Bon appétit!”. 

And always, always, he would speak French during sex. He would whisper in your ear about how good you felt and how sweet you tasted, his words like honey in your ears.

“Je me send is bien en too, princesse, (I feel so good inside you, princess)” he’d moan into the tense, sexed-up air of your bedroom, your ankles on his broad shoulders as his cock stroked your insides. “Tellement parfait. Si belle. (So perfect. So beautiful).”

He would kiss your foot before taking one of your toes into your mouth. 

That would usually set you off like a rocket, making you cum all over the bed and his cock. And because he thought you were so pretty, he would always explode deep inside you, filling you to the brim. That’s part of why he always let his native tongue slip in the bedroom with you. 

Other than the nasty shit, he would always tell you, “Je t’aime”. When he would kiss you; before you went to bed; when you’d separate for an expedition or when when you’d go to the other side of the ship. It was only right as the love chef. “Je t’aime,” he’d say, an adoring smile on his face and hearts in his eyes. It would make you tingle and feel warm all over you. 

So you surprised him one night when he cooked dinner specifically for you before the crew even ate. “Sanji, baby, you didn’t have to make me a whole separate meal,” you giggled as you sat down in the chair he pulled out for you. “I would’ve eaten the lamb!” 

“Nonsense,” he tutted, looking sexy in his apron dusted with flour and spices. “You said you didn’t like lamb too much. And believe me, honey: fixin’ grilled fish for you is nothing compared to what these hooligans want.” He then pressed a kiss to your cheek and whispered, “Bon appétit, my love” before hurrying back to the stove to check the yeast rolls in the oven. 

You stared down at the dinner spread on your plate: grilled fish drizzled in lemon and garlic with a side of honey-glazed, oven-roasted carrots, kus kus, and steamed broccoli. You cut a piece of the fish and put it into your mouth, humming in pleasure at the taste. You turned to Sanji, his back to you, as you gushed over the food. “This food is delicious, Sanji!” you said. "C'est trés bon! (It's very good!)” 

Sanji visibly paused before turning around to look at you, confused. Your smile grew and you lowered your fork. “Mes compliments au chef (My compliments to the chef),” you giggled. Before you could take a breath, Sanji was flying across the kitchen and planting kisses all over your face as you giggled. “Since when do you speak French, my love?” he laughed, giddy. 

“I’ve been practicing,” you hummed, playing with the color of his shirt. “I wanted to impress you.” Hearts in his eyes, Sanji pressed his forehead against yours. “And impress me, you did, mon there,” he murmured. “Now finish that food so I can hear more of my native tongue coming out of those sweet lips.” 

You did and while he had you bent over the kitchen counter while the crew ate in the other room, you repeated one word to him, over and over again, as he pummeled inside of you: “Je t’aime”. 

LAW (GERMAN) 

Law never spoke German. Or at least, not in front of you or the Hearts crew. 

“What’s the need?” he asked when you asked him to teach you something in his native tongue. “I haven’t lived there in years. Why are you so interested in my language anyway?” You would tell him you were curious, but that wouldn’t make him budge. 

You found it sad. Though he claimed he felt pride in his ethnicity and his native land, he barely mentioned his time there or taught you any phrases. So, in order to coax him into it, you fixed him a German dish. One day when the ship docked on a little island, you ran out to town to grab the ingredients for it and fixed it for him that night. It took a lot of preparation and stressing over whether or not he’d respond well to it, but that night, you sat the crew down for dinner. 

“I made something special for y’all,” you giggled, smiling secretively at Law. He scowled in confusion and suspicion at you, not sure what you were up to, until the crew took the silver covers off of their plates to reveal their meal: slices of roasted pork shoulder glazed with a cumin sauce and sitting on a bed of roasted potatoes and peppers. “Ta-da!” you shouted. “Sh-wen-braten!” 

At you mispronouncing the name, the corner of Law’s lips quirked a bit while his crew barely blinked. They were too busy drooling over and gobbling down their food. “Wow, Y/N!” Bepo growled. “This tastes amazing! I haven't tasted pork this good in so long!” 

“Thank you,” you giggled, but your attention was still all on Law as he took a bite. You stood behind his chair, nervously ringing a dish towel around your hands. “How is it?” you asked, bending down to hear him better over the chatter. 

He continued to chew and chew, leaving you in suspense, before he swallowed. “S’good,” he murmured and you sighed in relief. “Though you pronounced the dish wrong.” You made a face, pouting cutely in confusion at him. “It’s pronounced “schweinebraten,” he said, his deep voice rolling over the foreign word.

“Sch.” He paused, waiting for you to repeat it back to him. “Weine.” You parroted him, doing your best to keep from smiling out of giddiness. “Braten.” 

“Braten,” you pronounced, earning a satisfied nod before he turned back around to finish his meal. But you weren't done. you leaned down to his ear, loving how he tensed at your touch and presence. “Between you and me, I already knew how to pronounce it,” you purred. “I just wanted to hear you say it. Guten appetit (Enjoy your meal).” 

Something happened to Law in that moment hearing you speak in his language. His cock swoll in his pants and he nearly broke his fork as he sat rigid in his seat. You turned and walked away back to the stove, swaying your hips and biting back a grin as he watched, wanting to fuck you right there in front of his entire crew and make you say some very nasty words in his native tongue. 

“Law, why are all red like that?!” Jean practically yelled across the table. 

“Shut up!” Law growled as you laughed. He was gonna get you back for that later tonight.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #59] Betting Against Yeonjun

warnings: there's a section towards the start where I was really going thru it with my adoration for jk lmao bingo if you spot it!!!, seokjin, byeol at her best!!, jungkook also at his best!!!!, mmm I luv our starluvrs <3, conversations re: the first night they met waaaa, okay phew where to start: smut, jungkook's phone gallery is a hotbed of sin (recording), semi-public (club booths), bratty b, dominant koo, a lil degradation, (he says something that would piss me off (b is a better woman than I!! (but she gets her own back!!))), oral (m), lots of lovely words, a little titty worship <3, b on top (yeehaw), creampie, cum eating, oral (f), jimin + nabi!!!!!

a/n: this was the final chapter on wattpad before bd got taken down :( it's very bittersweet. also makes me suuuuuper aware of how few updates we've had since (1.... we have had 1 update (wattpad really knocked the wind from my sails, and if you've been keeping up with me outside of bd, you'll know how crazy busy I've been (the plus side is that I'm so nearly freeee to write to my hearts content for a couple of weeks! <3)))

wc: 10.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

While Jeongguk has always looked good behind the bar of Dionysus, you can't help but think he looks so much better in the middle of a tight-knit crowd, with an arm looped around your waist and a drink in his hand.

Under the cosmic lights of Dionysus, there's a glisten to his lips—alcohol yet to be licked away—and the sheen of sweat on his skin. Hair dark and dishevelled, his fringe tickles at his brows. You don't push it out of his face, 'cause it'll just fall back into position as soon as he moves to the beat of the music.

With a smile on his face, Jeongguk turns to his friends. Chants the lyrics to some song that soundtracked the summers of their youth. Is rowdy and careless in how he jumps around, but not once does he ever loosen his grip on you.

You're all in your finest—the boys in suits, and girls in cocktail dresses. While Nabi is in a deep navy satin number, Danbi has gone for black. Seoyeon opted for an early night, her and Yoongi heading home when the rest of you made your way to the bar.

In the dress picked out for you by Jeongguk all those weeks ago, you're far too overdressed for a bar like this—but you're also under the influence of far too much alcohol.

You know this is one of those golden moments; the nights you won't remember but will have stories to tell about it in years to come. Folklore. Whispers of Aurelian affairs weaved into your subconscious.

History has been made tonight. Not the kind that'll be read about in textbooks, but the kind that grandkids will be told a dozen times over—in a home that's covered in tiny specks of shimmer, while the scent of samgyeopsal waltzes from the kitchen to the courtyard.

So, no, Jeongguk doesn't loosen his grip, and he doesn't think he ever will.

You ignore just how many drinks have been knocked against you, and have also long forgotten the annoyance of sticky liquor on your feet. It's nothing a shower won't fix. Knowing the man beside you as intimately as you do, you're almost positive it's where you'll end up in a few hours, anyway.

Thoughts of you and him doing as you so often do have you wishing you were home already. Tonight is for celebrating, though—and oh, how lovely it is to have an excuse to celebrate Jeon Jeongguk.

Venus herself would've had a hard time crafting him, you think. Carved from marble and yet soft as the silky words he likes to wrap you up in, he's unlike anything of this earth.

For all of his thoughts about you, and the cosmos, and how he's certain 'Milky Way' is written where a location should be on your birth certificate, you've had just as many deliberations.

He says he was born in Busan, but men like him don't just come to be as a result of random genetics. He's forged of gold. Perfection in the form of a mere mortal man.

But then he's shouting something to Jimin over the sound of the music, and he stutters a little. Repeats himself with a goofy little grin, unphased by his innate imperfections, and it only serves to make your heart swell.

Jeongguk isn't perfect. He's capable of making mistakes and saying the wrong things. He wears toe-separating socks more often than you care to acknowledge, and sometimes he can be a little stroppy for no reason.

The pout always eases, though, and he derives such joy from those stupid socks that you can't ever bring yourself to tell him how ridiculous they are.

Perfection isn't measured in traits. It's measured in perception.

And you've never perceived a human more perfect for you than Jeon Jeongguk.

Anyone who looks your way would agree—or maybe they'd just see the way you're looking at him, all dewy-eyed and fawn-like, and know that there must be a little magic between you both.

When he turns his attention back to you and realises just how much adoration is glittering your eyes, he does the only thing he can do: tightens the arm he has around your waist and press the sweetest of kisses into your lips.

"Get a room!"

"Disgusting!"

"PDA! Gross!"

The noise that erupts for your friends is nothing short of embarrassing, even if it is obscured by the thudding base of the club speakers.

None of them really mean it. All have smiles on their faces. Are laughing.

Even if they weren't, they'd far rather you and Jeongguk were insufferably sweet, instead of still pretending like you aren't crazy about one another. You ignore them all anyway. Pout when he pulls away from the kiss. Get him back on your lips just as quickly as he left them.

Jeongguk's lips curve into a smile as he sinks his lips into yours and revels in the way it feels.

In the middle of a bar he could call home, surrounded by people he adores, Jeongguk's got you .

Has caught a shooting star, and is gloating just because he can.

"Fuck, I love you," he mumbles into your lips barely loud enough for you to hear, yet your arms wrap around his neck because you know exactly what he said. Kiss him back with a smile just as insufferable as his.

"Yeah?" You giggle.

Your friends have stopped caring—or at least, they've stopped teasing you. Are just letting you be. Suits Jeongguk fine. Just gives him the green light to tighten his arm around your back and lift you ever so slightly.

"You know I do."

Jeongguk loves without condition. Doesn't need to hear you say it back, not when he knows how you feel.

And yet you indulge him regardless.

"I love you, too," you tell him, and then can't help but giggle at how stupid it all feels. He puts you back on your feet. Press a kiss to your forehead, and then urges you back into the group. Shaking your head, you pull back. "Just gonna get another drink."

"I'll come with."

"Stay," you insist, squeezing his hand as you pull his grip away from your hand. He should be with his friends, you think. Plus you'll order him a drink, too. Won't put it on his tab, 'cause you know damn well that bar tab his friends love so much will no doubt migrate to his restaurant. Still, you make sure to call back, "Will only be a minute, babe!"

You know it'll pacify him for a moment or so, and you also just wanna indulge in the simple pleasure of watching his lip ring do the thing. You'll never grow tired of it. Two birds, one pathetically pretty heart-shaped stone.

You lose yourself in the crowd. Know this place like the back of your hands. Doesn't take you long to find yourself by the bar with an incredibly sober Yeonjun raising his brows in your direction.

He saw you coming. Already has a few empty shot glasses lined up on the tray ready to make you starfuckers.

Rolling your eyes, you're about to say something that'd feel far wittier in your drunk mind than would be in reality when you feel a hand on the small of your back.

Instantly, you flinch away.

The hand isn't cold nor is it aggressive; it's just not Jeongguk's. You knew without hesitation. Eyes flicking over to the mirrored backsplash of the bar, you briefly catch Yeonjun's unimpressed gaze.

He doesn't know the man who's taken the spot beside you, but he knows the man is far closer than a stranger should be.

He's strapping. Incredibly good looking. Broad shoulders, hair slicked back. Is put together in a way that men in Dionysus rarely are.

"Water?" Yeonjun offers you, 'cause no matter how much he likes to wind Jeongguk up, he's grown into a good man. Has a lot to thank Jeongguk for. His care for drunk punters, and making sure they're okay, is one of those things.

Yeonjun also knows Jeongguk would pluck every single cerulean hair from his head if he were ever to let anything happen to a single hair on yours.

"Yeah," you nod, edging away from the man beside you.

It doesn't go unnoticed. The man closes the space you created.

"You were in your element tonight," he says, looking down towards you. "Could be making a name for yourself instead of doing some kid's hard work for him."

When your eyes flicker up at him, they're sharp. Pointed. Daggers where daisies once were. Edging away again, you create a distance that isn't so easily closed this time.

"And you could piss off, Seokjin."

"Oh," he hums with the kind of smirk that would have sent you reeling once upon time. Just makes your stomach churn, now. "Full name? Am I in trouble?"

"I'd have to actually give a shit about you for you to be in trouble," you tell him, and are kind of surprised by how little you feel. You're not even angry. You're bored. A little irritated. Mostly indifferent. "And quite frankly the way you've been behaving recently has just confirmed everything I already knew about you. If you could stop interfering with my life, I'd really appreciate it."

"Interfering?" He half snorts, taking a swig on his drink. "You're the one who invited practically my entire department to your little boyfriend's fundraiser."

"I invited their wallets," you correct him, before turning back to Yeonjun. "The usual, please. Four."

He doesn't need to clarify what you're after. He knows the drill. Gets cracking on the starfuckers.

"Icy," Seokjin continues to tease. There's an arrogance to him. Curiosity, too.

You're not the woman who used to cry in his shower and beg him to stay. Your hair is longer, and your wardrobe is less refined. The role you played to be favoured by him is long-forgotten about now.

Stars don't belong in boxes. They'll just burn out. He never got the luxury to see you shine as brightly as you could, and now that he is, he thinks he likes it.

"There's a reason why you kept coming back, or have you forgotten?" He says with a kind of sleaziness you never before attributed to him. When you come to think about it, you realise that maybe you should have. "Need reminding?"

"No. What I really need is for you to gain a little bit of that decorum you like to pretend you have, and then I need you to stop embarrassing yourself," you assure him as you pull your phone from the small clutch bag you've been carrying with you. Flicking open your message thread with Jeongguk, you manage to put together a very tipsy string of messages that tell him to come to the bar. "You're beating a dead horse."

"If that were true, you wouldn't be talking to me right now," he smirks. "And if anything, I'm the horse in this equation, given how much I know you like rid—"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, frankly taken aback by his vulgarity.

If there's one thing Seokjin always was when he was with you, it was respectful. Not to you, or your feelings, but to other people's perception of him. For him to be stooping to such a level just to get a rise out of you means one of two things: the insidious 'boys club' nature of his workplace has corrupted him, or that he thinks so little of you that he believes this is what'd make you fold.

"We ended well over a year ago, and you didn't even want to be in that relationship for just as long! Christ alive. You never had trouble getting laid when we were together. Find some other poor woman to bother—or better yet, just go home. Save everyone's sanity."

Seokjin shrugs. Casts his dark eyes down your glitter-speckled body. Smirks. "You know I always want what I can't have."

You're unattainable. Out of his reach. Belong to skies, when his feet are cemented into the sidewalk.

It's not why he's here, though.

You know him too intimately to understand how his brain works.

Kim Seokjin will never be the man he pretends to be. Will always be the lackey of some CEO. Will never quite own a penthouse, even though he'll probably land somewhere a few floors below. His full-potential will never be reached because he doesn't know how to apply himself in a way that isn't intended on bringing other people down.

He won't climb ladders; he'll just drag people beneath his feet to make himself feel taller. Goes through life as if he's wearing Cuban heels, and steps on the toes of anyone who threatens to achieve more than him.

When you were together, he didn't cheat for the forbidden romance of it all, or anything borne in innate human desires. He didn't do it because he particularly liked other women, or because you weren't satisfactory enough. Quite the opposite.

He cheated for the gratification of coming back to you. He'd hold your body with hands that had been covered in the evidence of someone else; tarnish you and leave himself squeaky clean. Was a power trip. An ego stroker.

It's what's fuelling him right now, you think. The way he knows your body and how his hands used to stroke up the curve of your waist. The eroticism of it all. Thoughts like that used to make you shudder. Now, they make you want to dry-heave.

He knows his hands have been replaced with Jeongguk's lips; that your skin is golden where it once was void of anything but markers of Seokjin.

You went to Jeongguk's apartment once after Seokjin had left those very markers on your throat. They were invisible, but you could feel them. His hands, his lips. How tender he'd been with your skin no matter how rough he had been with your heart.

Jeongguk had crafted you a nest out of every single pillow in his home that night. It was almost like he knew birds would play a pivotal role in the both of your lives. Was giving them— you —a safe place to hatch. To bloom. To shine.

Seokjin doesn't want you.

He just wants Jeongguk to be beneath him.

If that means also getting you beneath him in a more literal sense of the word, then so be it.

But as Jeongguk comes to stand in the space between you both, nodding towards Yeonjun with all the nonchalance he can afford, you know that nobody else will ever have you like he does.

Picking up one of the starfuckers, Jeongguk shoots it back. Picks up a second. Looks to you. Softly wraps his hand around your throat and strokes his thumb up towards your earlobe. Holds the shot to your lips. Waits for you to tip your head back ever so gently—and when you do, he slowly pours the liquor into your mouth for you.

Not once does he take his eyes off yours. Not even when you close them to swallow down the familiar sensation of what it feels like to be in love with him. Just naturally happens whenever you drink a starfucker. Always has done.

"Missed you," he tenderly says, as if it hasn't been a matter of minutes.

When he's holding you like this, his strong hand commanding the angle at which you can look at him, you're without any autonomy. You're his, his, his. The presence of a man you barely even remember being with fades into nothingness behind Jeongguk.

An incredibly love-drunk smile finds its way back to your lips. Jeongguk smiles, too, letting the hand holding your neck ease so that his arm can wrap over your shoulders, as yours does the same around his back. Hooked onto one another, physically as much as you are emotionally, there's a unified front to your partnership.

"These ours?" He asks, nodding towards the remaining starfuckers. You nod. Say nothing, 'cause you don't need to. Just squeeze his waist even tighter. Jeongguk glances up to Yeonjun. "Tab? Four more, and two lemonades."

"Right you are, boss," Yeonjun nods, and gets to work.

"Cheers," Jeongguk thanks him, then picks up one of the starfuckers. Turns ever so slightly, but not enough to loosen his grip on you. Smiles in Seokjin's direction. "Want one? They're good. Practically made her fall in love with me, though, so be careful. You might get a crush on me, too."

"Think I'd be fine," Seokjin scoffs back. "I don't tend to fall for charity cases that can only get girls who feel sorry for them."

"You'd be surprised by how much a starfucker could change your tastes," Jeongguk entertains him. "Take B for example. Used to date limp dick losers who couldn't get her off—"

"Gguk!"

"—One starfucker was all it took, and now it's a seven days a week occurrence. Ain't that a beautiful thing?"

Seokjin grates his jaw. Tries not to let it show. Fails.

"So you have to get her drunk to fuck her?" He sneers.

"Nah," Jeongguk laughs a little at such an absurd suggestion. "Just like I wouldn't need to be drunk to tell you to back off."

"Can she not talk for herself?"

He knows damn well you're able to speak for yourself — he just chooses to disregard everything you say.

"Can you not take a hint? You're not welcome," Jeongguk snaps, before swigging down the shot he had offered Seokjin. Is a little aggressive in how he tosses down the plastic shot glass. "Get fucked—by yourself, that is. My girlfriend isn't included in that suggestion."

"I think—"

"Seokjin," you finally sigh, voice laced with contempt. Shaking your head, you really don't know what more you can say to really drive it home. He never cared this much when you were together. "You're embarrassing yourself. Go home. Find a new bar. I don't care. Yes, I used your connections to get more money to the auction, and no, I'm not sorry. Use the money you saved from losing the bid to get a therapist, or a hooker, or anything that'll help you be a little less insufferable. Maybe an STD check, while you're at it."

He could make a crude remark about how he always wore condoms whenever he cheated.

You know this to be true, 'cause you know you tasted the latex on him once. Thinking about it doesn't hurt like it used to. Annoys you more than anything.

Instead, Seokjin concedes. Can feel the eyes of the bartender searing into him. Knows that you're right; he is embarrassing himself.

That was one thing he could never fault you for. You were always right. Each and every time you called him out on his bullshit, you were right to do so.

"You know where to find me whenever you're done fixing whatever's broken with him," Seokjin simply shrugs. Knows you have a complex. That you tried to 'fix' him, too.

"Fixed it already," Jeongguk says, 'cause he isn't letting Seokjin have the last word. "Seriously, man. You lost. Not because I won, but because you were never worthy of winning in the first place. Stay away or don't, but this is always what you're gonna be greeted with. Always."

Seokjin doesn't look at you. He stares Jeongguk out, instead. Smirks, as if he thinks Jeongguk is an idiot, but lets the ambiguity of any words he could speak linger in the air. Decides it will be a little more torment if he leaves you both wondering what he could have said instead.

He just doesn't realise that neither of you could care any less than you already do.

At this point, he's just like an annoying mosquito buzzing around. With any hope, he'll find another blood source he enjoys more and become an irritating presence for someone else instead.

"Christ," Jeongguk mutters, shaking his head when Seokjin finally retreats. Squeezes you tighter and presses a kiss to your cheek, before pulling the fresh drinks made by Yeonjun closer to your side of the bar. "He's fuckin' insufferable, B. The fuck did you ever see in him?"

Jeongguk pours the starfuckers into the lemonades, turning it into a makeshift version of a starlover. It'll do the job, and was easier to order than it would have been to explain the process to Yeonjun in the middle of a busy shift.

"Before we get into that—" you take the drink offered to you by Jeongguk, sipping a little down " —Seven days a week? Really?"

"Oh, c'mon," Jeongguk grins, as he begins to lead you both away from the bar. "You can't be annoyed with me! He was being a tool!"

The door that leads up to the private booths is closed today—none were booked out, and it saves the clean down time if that entire section stays off limits to punters.

Elevated above the dancefloor, the booths are in the balcony section that wraps around the room. People in the booths can see down to the dancefloor below, but you'd be hard pressed trying to look up into the booths from the dancefloor. They offer a little anonymity. Privacy.

It's why Jeongguk stuck Jiyeong and her friends up there on New Years Eve—purely so that he wouldn't have to deal with them.

Jeongguk isn't just any punter, though. He's the one who installed the door to make his life a little bit easier by keeping drunk stragglers out of the booths. Knows the code, 'cause it's just his birthday backwards.

And right now, he wants a little privacy with you.

"You didn't have to be one back!" You reprimand him as he punches in the code for the door, but you're smiling, too. It's not like you actually gave a shit. If anything, it was kind of hot watching him brag so arrogantly.

"I did," he assures you, quickly encouraging you through the door so as to not draw any attention to yourselves. Taps your ass just 'cause he can. Squeeze, again, just 'cause he can. "Didn't want the old man thinking I was a little virgin."

Rolling your eyes, you nudge him away as you begin to head up the stairs. He's right behind you. Is squeezing your ass again as soon as he can be. "No one is ever gonna look at you and think that."

"Oh, yeah?" Jeongguk flirts. "So when we first met, you thought I was some sort of sexed-up fuck boy, huh?"

"No," you innocently offer, stepping up into one of the booths, and sinking down into one of the plush sofas that run along the back wall. "But I did wish you hadn't been behind the bar so I could find out for myself."

Jeongguk puts his drink on the table in front of the booth sofas, then comes and plonks himself right down next to you. Is practically on your lap. Doesn't care. Is like a fully-grown dog who doesn't realise he's not a puppy anymore.

You just let him. Personal space is null and void.

"Oh? So you went home with Jimin 'cause I turned you on?" He nods to himself. Smirks. Looks incredibly pleased with himself. "Nice."

"Shut up," you laugh, a little scandalised that he's mentioning it so carelessly.

Jeongguk's got half a dozen starfuckers in his system, and does not care for tact. In fact, if he had it his way, he'd set the world to rights. Would make that ancient wish of yours come true, now that he isn't behind the bar.

You set about neatly arranging his hair as he steals your drink from your hand to take a sip.

"You were so pretty," he quietly says. Wraps his hand around your wrist to stop you from preening. Pulls your knuckles to his lips and presses a tender kiss against them. It comes naturally, being like this. "Still are. But that first night... Fuck. Spent my whole shift watching out for you. Was gutted when I got home and you were there."

It was so long ago now that it's almost hard to believe Jeongguk remembers it as clearly as he thinks he does.

"Looking for somewhere to charge your phone," he laughs softly, shaking his head, as he recounts the memories. "Just for you to end up forgetting it. What will we do with you, hey? Silly, pretty baby."

Your face scrunches up at his recollection of the details. Had you never gone home with Jimin, then perhaps you'd have never ended up here—but you kind of wish it had never happened. Wish that you'd stayed by the bar all night. That you'd have had the water Jeongguk gave you. That you'd have sobered up by the time he finished his shift, and asked if he wanted to walk you home.

The 'you' of present day is not the you that shot through the bar that night with reckless abandon for who got blinded by your shine. You wouldn't have stayed, if you'd have gone home with Jeongguk. Or wouldn't have asked him to stay. Would have fucked him and never spoken to him again.

Or maybe you wouldn't have. Who knows?

"Sorry it was all so... messy," you offer a little sheepishly.

Bad decisions were made by you both—but stars can only form when dust clouds collapse. You needed to break a little before you could become who you were meant to be.

Jeongguk shakes his head.

"Messy can be good," he promises, then adjusts you both. Pulls you across his lap. With a leg either side of his, you let your nose find its home next to his. Smile as his hands stroke up your back.

"Yeah?" You whisper against his lips.

"Mhmm," he mumbles, letting his lips sink into yours for a moment, before adding, "Got a canvas we made together that proves it."

The curve of your lips as you press into the kiss can be felt by him. Just gets him smiling, too. As his lip ring presses into your plump bottom lip, part of you wishes you were back in those damn busan photobooths. Want to see what it looks like. How you move together.

Slowly, he encourages your hips to languidly grind. Keeps the momentum slow, you both ignore the chaos of the club that echoes around you. He controls you with a hand on your waist, the other resting on your bare thigh.

The dress you're in—the one he chose—is everything he could ever want and more from an outfit on your body. It sparkles like the Han river under Banpo bridge during the evening light show, and clings to your body like droplets of water slowly sinking down an ice sculpture. Provides him with easy access, yet leaves his imagination free to go wild.

He knows your body well enough, now though. Knows the underwear you're wearing. Is impatient. Wants to push them to the side and get his hard cock buried in your tight walls.

Good things come to those who wait, though, and Jeongguk is more than willing to be a good boy for you.

Hidden in the darkness of the club, the thudding music is no match for the beat of your hearts. Lights splash you in colour every so often, but for the most part, you revel in your obscured entanglement.

His tongue slips into your mouth, and your hands tangle in his hair, deepening the kiss. You can feel how hard he is beneath you as you grind on his lap. It'd be easy, you think, to fuck him right now.

Jeongguk is right—good things do come to those who wait.

And he's been such a good boy.

You let your lips trail down to his throat. Latch on to his sweet spot just beneath his ear. Suck. Graze your teeth. Do the same to his earlobe, and feel his grip tighten. A moan vibrates in his throat.

Lips brushing against his ear, you whisper, "Phone."

Though your tone is soft, Jeongguk knows it's a command. Digs into his back pocket, keeping you firmly in place. The movement just has his thick bulge pressing even deeper against you, as his grip on your waist gets tighter.

It has you smiling; giddy with how glorious it is to have a man of such calibre so greedy for you.

It's not like it isn't reciprocal. Never before have you ever been so feral for a partner; so risky in your need to have them experiencing bliss because of you. Before Jeongguk, sex always served a purpose. Was never just sex for the sake of sex. There were deep-rooted issues and insecurities you were trying to fix.

But you're secure, now; in his grip, his hands, his heart. You don't have any ulterior motive for the things you do other than an innate need to make Jeongguk come undone. His buttons, his belts, his primal need to make you his; you'll undo them all.

Flicking open his camera, you stay in his lap as you reach across the sofa and rest the phone up against the wall that separates it from the next booth over. Tap on the little red record button. Though the lighting isn't entirely clear, enough bleeds in from the LED screens behind the DJ to clearly show the pair of you. Once his camera settings adjust to low light, you may as well have the main lights turned on.

Jeongguk raises a brow, tilting his head with sweet, puppy-like confusion.

"We're drunk," you tell him, as if either of you need any liquor to behave like animals. "Wanna make sure you remember this in the morning."

Jeongguk's hips push upwards as his hands on your waist keep you tight against his lap. "You think I ever forget fucking you?"

"Who said anything about fucking?" You tease with a smirk, biting down on your bottom lip.

He groans.

"If you blue ball me again, I'll die," he tells you. Flails a little. Leans back against the booth. Pouts. Wait for you to lean closer and deliver a pretty little kiss to make him feel better.

"We can't fuck here," you tell him with complete certainty, as if that's not exactly what you're hoping for. "Anyone could see us."

No one would be able to see you in this position, and you damn well know it, but it still feels incredibly exposed. You're a few metres from your friends and hundreds of other random club-goers. If you were to peep over the balcony railings, your hiding spot would be revealed.

"So?" Jeongguk smirks. "Everyone knows we fuck. Bet you they've imagined it. And you know how pretty you are when you cum? Everyone deserves to see that at least once in their life, B."

"We're gonna end up at an orgy one day, aren't we?" You tease him for his sheer unrelenting need to show you off.

He shakes his head. "Fuck no. Ain't no way anyone else is ever gonna touch you."

"No?"

"No," he tells you, stroking his hand up your chest and tightening his grip around the base of your throat. "You only cum for me."

It's a statement just as much as it is a command.

The thoughts are in Jeongguk's head now, though. You, and those cosmic calamities you call your eyes, and how they'd stare him out as someone else fucked you. The feeling gets under his skin and pollutes his heart. Pumps sulphur into his veins. Turns his blood green.

"Say it," he grits, as his hands move down to cup your chest. "Tell me who you cum for."

Yanking down the material of the top of your dress, Jeongguk wastes no time. Repeats a similar action with the cups of your bra. Gets your chest exposed.

If either of you were to look at his phone screen, you'd find your silhouettes look like fuckin' sin—but all you can focus on is him.

His lips latch around one of your nipples, harshly sucking your tit into his mouth. His hand massages at the other, pinching and rolling your nipple between his thumb and finger. Head tipping back, you continue grinding against him. Don't give him an answer 'cause it feels too good to focus on anything else but the sensation of him.

You indulge in the sheer volume of the club speakers. Moan without reservation. Gasp as he pulls away and delivers a sharp spank to your tit, before latching onto your other nipple.

The way your hips grind even deeper against him is testament to how badly you want him; the wetness seeping through your underwear and onto his trousers.

He grazes his teeth against your nipple. Makes you shudder. Licks. Kisses. Sucks again, then pulls away with an oh-so-satisfying pop. Holding your chest with his hands, Jeongguk is stern as he repeats: "Tell me who you cum for."

You could do it. Could say him. Could do as he asks.

Thing is, you don't think he really wants that.

You think he wants to be mean.

And you know you want him to be mean.

With a small shrug, you widen your eyes. Feign innocence. Like butter wouldn't melt, you suppose, "Anyone who touches me right."

He scoffs.

There's a look in Jeongguk's eyes that promises you that he'll get you leant against that damn balcony while he fucks you just to prove a point—not only to you, but to any fucker who thinks they could ever make you feel the way he does.

"Word?" He grits.

"Chess," you say without hesitation.

It's the green light he needs, but still he tells you, "Gonna be mean."

As much as he enjoys playing the roles of a person he's not when he fucks you, he also never wants you to ever take it to heart. Loves you so purely that he'll always do what he can to keep you comfortable.

It's cute.

Also entirely irrelevant right now, 'cause you want him to be mean.

"You're gonna try ," you tease.

Jeongguk scoffs, again. Likes how bratty you can be. Smirks. Knocks his head to the side. Shakes it. Grips your tits a little harder, then spanks one of them and is pleased with how your body jolts.

A wanton moan escapes your lips. Eyes on his, you're Jeongguk's to devour.

"You think anyone else could get you like this, huh?" He grits, dropping a hand to your spread legs. Sinks his hand between his crotch and yours. Is greeted with evidence of your arousal. Strokes his fingers against you. Gathers some of your slick on his fingers, and is ever so pleased when your lips part for him without a word. Sinking his fingers into your wet, wanting mouth, Jeongguk smirks. "Needy little slut."

The vibration of your moan around his fingers just confirms everything Jeongguk already knows.

He laughs. Is arrogant. Cocksure. Obscenely hot. Your brows furrow as he pulls his fingers from your mouth, before he grips the base of your throat again.

"If you aren't gonna use that mouth to give me serious answers, you're gonna use it for something else instead, aren't you?"

Oh, you're eager . Don't need telling twice. Are off his lap and sinking between his legs without even so much as a guided instruction.

"That's it," he husks as you quickly undo his belt. His trousers, too. Tug them down his thighs. Get his Calvins on show, and his furiously hard cock tenting in them. Your lips press kisses against the fabric, tongue wetting his shaft through the cotton. "Stop fuckin' teasing, baby. Suck it."

If there's one thing you know about Jeongguk, it's that he gets whiny when he doesn't get his own way. On your knees, eyes flicking up to his lust-laced features, you're not gonna be a good girl for him just 'cause he wants you to be. You're gonna hold out. Gonna get him whiny. Gonna—

"You know how many girls down there want this cock, huh? How many waste their time at the bar vying for my attention?" Jeongguk arrogantly smirks. Watches the change in your expression. The hardening of your eyes. The power relinquishing from you to him. The sulphur that's transferred. The club lights paint you in green. He licks his lips. Says, "If I want my cock sucked, I can get it sucked. Give me a reason not to."

Back in the early days, you and Jeongguk had been through his message requests together. He'd downplayed it, but you know it's true. Girls practically drool on the Dionysus bar for him.

If he wanted to, he could.

But he wants you.

Only ever wants you.

You're feeling challenged, though. Are petty. Shrug, "You know how many people hit on me by that very bar?"

He does. Has seen it himself. And has also seen how quickly you dismiss it. Never feels threatened.

Your hands work in tandem, one of them pushing up the bottom of his shirt to reveal his toned abs, the other tugging down on his boxers, revealing his cock.

There's something celestial about having Jeongguk like this. Hard and weak at the exact same time. The tip of his cock has the sheen of precum spilling from his slit, and you don't think you've ever seen him this hard. He's needy. Pathetic. Gorgeous.

Your tongue licks a stripe up his shaft, and Jeongguk's eyes close. His hand finds a home in your hair as his gaze lands on you again.

"I could do this for them," you assure him. Though the music is loud, Jeongguk reads your lips. Twitches as your tongue flicks against his slit. Lips pressing a kiss to his tip, you jerk him a little just to remind him of who is in the position of power right now. "Could fuck anyone I want."

Jeongguk smiles at this. Finds it funny. Cute, even.

"You could," he acknowledges. Tightens his grip on your hair. Gets you back in position, your lips wrapping around his cock as he begins to encourage a momentum. "But I'm still the only one who'll make you cum, aren't I? Could slut yourself out, but it's still me you'll be thinking about. Me you'll be wishing you were with. Me who you'll crawl back to 'cause no one else satisfies you."

With every sentence, he fucks his cock deeper into your mouth. Is practically hitting the back of your throat. Getting your eyes all watery—and he knows your pussy is even wetter.

He lets you do the hard work, but makes sure he pushes your head to the right rhythm. Keeps your movements shallow, focused on his tip, now. Is after one thing and one thing only.

Which is why when he starts moaning in a way that you know means he's close, you pull away.

"Fuck," he hisses, almost keeling over in his seat. The look he gives you is one of sheer disbelief.

"What?" You smile as if butter wouldn't melt. Pretend like you didn't realise he was about to spill over. "You wanna cum, or something?"

"You know I—"

"Go get one of your other girls, then."

Dragging you up onto his lap, Jeongguk laughs, clutches the sides of your face with his hands. Nudges his nose against yours. Doesn't care to keep up the pretence anymore, 'cause he's sensing a nerve was struck.

Even if you are just being petulant for the sake of it, he doesn't ever want you to feel like it's a viable option. Says, "You know I don't want anyone else. Stupid."

"S'not what you said," you childishly pout against his lips. You know damn well he didn't mean it. Honestly, hearing him speak with such arrogance was a turn on; the acknowledgement that even though he's desired, you know he's chosen you. "You said—"

"Hey—you said you could fuck anyone down there," he reminds you. Presses a feathery kiss against the tip of your nose. "And you could. I don't want you to, though."

"No?"

"No, Byeol," Jeongguk whispers against your lips now. Lets his hand sink to your underwear. Pushes them to the side. Lines you up against his shaft. Encourages you to rock ever so gently, coating him in everything you are. "Want you forever, B. Just you and me. You want that, hmm? This, forever?"

Jeon Jeongguk has this way of making you feel powerful and pathetic all within the same moment. You want him so badly it hurts. And so you nod. Raise your hips. Line the tip of his cock up with your entrance. Remind him, "No one else makes you feel like I do. They never will."

It's funny, 'cause that's exactly what Jeongguk was wanting to hear from you earlier. If he really wanted, he could be a dick—but you're the one being needy now, and he likes it so much. Adores it, even. You're so cute , he thinks. So he shakes his head. "No one, baby. Just you."

"You're mine," you tell him, then sink down onto his length. Both of you gasp from the sensation. You've been waiting for this; desperate for it. Foreplay is fun, but all Jeongguk ever wants these days is to utterly and completely lose himself in you. This, to him, is Nirvana.

He nods. Lets his eyes close as your walls adjust to his size. He's so big that it should be painful, but there's something about fucking Jeongguk that just works. The fit is snug, but it's perfect. "Yeah, baby. Yours."

Your hips grind ever so gently, the feeling of fullness he gives you hitting just right. Clit rubbing against his neatly trimmed patch of hair above the base of his cock, you're overwhelmed with just how good it feels to give yourself up for him.

As the sensation settles in, he encourages your movements. Gets you bouncing, his hands on your ass to keep control. Presses wet kisses to the base of your throat. Promises, "You're gonna make me cum so hard."

A man of traditions, Jeongguk takes 'ladies first' incredibly seriously. Knows he's been edged so well this evening that he won't last long at all. Needs to make sure you get there before him.

He sits you up straight. Stops your movements. Has you warming his cock as he just kind of stares at you for a moment. Everything else is drowned out around you both; the music, the lights, the fact this is Jeongguk's place of work, the way his phone is still recording you both.

With a hand on your waist, he holds your cheek with the other. Smiles as your eyes close, head sinking into his touch. Is so in love with you it feels like his heart might just explode.

"My pretty girl," he grins, biting down on his bottom lip. Shakes his head as if he can't believe his luck.

Your chest is exposed, pretty purple posies blooming on your skin from his lips. There's a sheen of glitter all over your body, and Jeongguk knows there must be one on his, too. It's getting harder to distinguish the pair of you as the days go by; your orbit growing smaller.

Both of his hands drop your pussy. One spreads your lips, while the other slowly rubs against your clit. Instantly, you tense a little, the pleasure pulsing through you.

"My pretty, needy girl," he corrects himself, and is incredibly pleased when you nod.

As one of your hands wraps around his wrist, you try your hardest to not start fucking him again. Want this feeling to persevere, but also innately want to coax an orgasm out of him. It's human nature. He's building you up. You wanna do the same right back.

Thick and firm inside you, Jeongguk's cock throbs from just how tightly your walls clamp around him when he begins toying with your clit. Head tipping back, the laugh that stutters in Jeongguk's chest has you whining.

"Stop being so hot," he groans. "Gonna make me cum so fuckin' fast."

Admitting this is a mistake, for it just makes you wanna interrupt his plans of making your finish first. Gets your ass bouncing on his map as Jeongguk desperately tries to hold himself back; to regain a little control. It's a fruitless endeavour. The silky warmth of your cunt is too good.

"Fuck," he grits, giving into the feeling. "B—"

His words are cut off by your lips stealing a kiss from him, that he then steals right back. Messy and without any considered thought behind them, your kisses dissolve into frantic, breathless whimpers. Jeongguk can't hold off.

Head knocking back, Jeongguk's grip on your waist tightens. He holds you down in place, his thick shaft filling you entirely. He's bottomed out; fully encased in the woman he loves. It's too fuckin much. His legs shake. Chest shudders.

And then it's happening; thick ropes of cum spurting into your cunt, filling the spaces he can't reach. He just wines. Whimpers. Curses. "Fuck. Cumming. Making me cum so fuckin' hard, babe. Fuck. Oh, fuck, this cunt. So fuckin' perfect."

His praise is met with the sweetest of giggles, which only encourage him to cum even harder . Both endless and over far too soon, Jeongguk cums so deeply inside you it feels like he's losing all the oxygen in his brain; like a trap door has been pulled beneath him and he'll never stop falling.

Lips finding yours once more, he eases his grip on your hips. Encourages slow strokes of your pussy up and down his cock just to ease the final spurts of cum out of him.

With a laugh and an incredibly heavy chest Jeongguk leans back once more. Shakes his head. Can't stop smiling. Nor can you.

When his gaze finally lands on you a moment or so later, he's still grinning as he whines, "I wanted to make you cum first."

As mad as it sounds, making Jeongguk cum is satisfying enough for you.

He would disagree. Thinks the concept of you not cumming is pure insanity. How anyone could have you like this and not strive to make you come undone is criminal. Also knows he can't stay inside you for much longer, 'cause the overstimulation might just kill him off.

Pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Jeongguk leverages his position. Lays you down, your head near his phone, his cock still inside you. Kisses the base of your throat as he reaches up for his phone. It's warm from the battery being drained, but it's still recording. He leans across and stands it up against one of your drinks on the table. Not much is in frame—but enough to capture his soaked cock glistening under the club lights as he pulls out of you.

Jeongguk is impatient. Tucks himself into his boxers and sinks down immediately. Plugs your hole with his fingers, keeping his cum inside you. Latches his lips around your clit. Sucks. Whines. Vibrates. Makes you writhe as your back arches, legs wrapping around his head.

If heaven is a place on earth, Jeongguk knows it must be between your legs.

His tongue strokes against you as his fingers curl. There's little care given to how messy it all is. If anything, it just makes him like it even more. Wants to fuck you all over again, but knows his cock isn't up for it yet, even if he is.

There's a small shudder to your body; a little warning sign that Jeongguk is edging you closer and closer to coming undone. Just a little more and you'll be there.

He withdraws his fingers, and sinks his tongue to your entrance. Gathers his cum on his tongue, then spreads it all over your needy cunt. Lays claim to you in a way that no one ever has before. Spits. Flicks his tongue so rapidly against your clit it's hard to comprehend. Gets you shaking. Shuddering.

And then he's sucking, fingers plugging you once more. Your body writhes, and he holds you in place. Sucks harder. Fingers faster. Shakes his head, still sucking on your clit. Releases your with pop and then delves back in.

You whine his name, but it's obscured by the bass pumping through the speakers. All you can do is focus on him. How he feels. How much he wants you to feel good, and how well he succeeds at it.

The pressure builds like a star about to burst—and then stardust is scattering around you both, your orgasm disrupting the very atmosphere you're orbiting in.

Sparking through you, the sensation of your orgasm almost makes you fucking cry. Your body shakes. Jeongguk doesn't relent. Goes until you're spent, legs jolting, whimpers pathetic.

Overstimulated and overwhelmed, you encourage him up. Get his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth. The taste of his cum intertwined with yours only serves to make you whine even more.

The pair of you are spent and sticky, and somehow still desperate for another.

He's the one who eases up first. Pulls back. Presses kisses all over your face. Your neck. Your chest. Your lips once more. Whispers with a smirk, "You got jealous ."

"Didn't," you pout a little.

"Did," he grins, letting his body collapse on yours, 'cause there's no way he wants to go back down to the dancefloor. Not yet. "Jealous and possessive."

"Says you," you huff a little, stroking up and down his still-clothed back with the tips of your nails. Part of you wishes you were home, in bed, clothes tangled in a pile on the floor. It's okay, though. You know it's where you'll end up.

Head on your chest, Jeongguk holds your tits just 'cause he can. Gets one of your nipples in his mouth, again just 'cause he can. Sucks. Pulls back just to say, "Oh, yeah. I was. Fucking hate the idea of you with anyone else." His lips latch around your nipple again, until he takes a second to add, "I'm literally in love with you."

You're caught between laughing and moaning when his lips wrap around your other nipple. There's no reason for him to be toying with you in the way that he is. Both of you have finished. He's just doing it 'cause he likes it.

"You're in love with my tits," you brush off his declaration.

Shaking his head, nipple still in his mouth, he looks up at you. Poutily lets your nipple slip from his lips. Assures you, "I'm an ass guy," then presses your tits together to get both of your nipples in his mouth at the same time.

"You're an ass, full stop," you laugh. "Lucky I love you."

Now this does pull his attention away from your chest.

"Yeah?" He grins, repositioning himself so that his nose can nudge against yours. On top of you, his chain pools against your chin—and then his lips are sinking into yours, pretty kisses taking the place of needless declarations. You both know exactly how you feel about one another.

"Yeah," you nod into his kisses. "So much."

By the time you finish your mindless chatter in the form of aftercare, Jeongguk's phone has a low battery warning on the screen. Neither of you even wanna think about how long that damn video must be.

You set the world to rights; finish your drinks, and cosy up together just to indulge in a little more time alone—but the night is getting away from you. Your friends will be wondering where you are.

Glancing around to make sure you haven't forgotten anything, Jeongguk's face bunches up when he clocks the security camera he'd forgotten about in the corner of the booth. Nods, to drag your attention to it.

"Yeonjun's gonna have a field day with that one," you grimace.

"I'll delete it before he can," Jeongguk promises you.

Far more sober than you both were earlier, Jeongguk deposits you off with your friends when you get back down to the dancefloor. Ignores their questioning of where you've both been. Gives you a quick kiss before he goes to the bar.

Yeonjun's brows seem to be perpetually raised—but it's just 'cause his eyes caught the glimmer of the booth door being opened half an hour ago, and knows damn well exactly where Jeongguk has been.

The fact that Jeongguk's hair is pointing in all different directions only confirms exactly what Yeonjun thinks he must have been doing.

"Need to go into the office," Jeongguk tells Yeonjun, but is met with the shake of his head.

"No need," Yeonjun deadpans. Leans a little bit closer. Assures him, "Cameras are off. Your secrets are safe, boss."

Jeongguk wants to die. Not for the fun reasons he normally does, but for the sheer embarrassment of his junior almost reprimanding him.

He also doesn't trust the cerulean-haired fucker as far as he can throw him.

"I'm still gonna check."

"Fine. But you'll owe me 20,000."

"Huh?"

"It's a bet," Yeonjun says. "I bet you 20,000 that they're off."

If Jeongguk wasn't already convinced, he is now. Yeonjun hates losing these dumb bets.

Still, Jeongguk agrees.

Not even two minutes later, he's walking back by the bar, chewing on minty gum that's kept in the office for far more innocent purposes than this, dropping two 10,000 won notes down for Yeonjun.

"You're welcome!" Yeonjun shouts after Jeongguk with a smug grin. Shakes his head. Puts on the thick accent of an old man and mutters to himself, "Kids these days. Randy bastards. No decorum. No class. Just hormones and bad decisions."

But as Jeongguk is drawn to you in the crowd, like a stargazer is drawn to Polaris, he knows that for all the bad decisions he's ever made, there is one universal truth: No decision has ever been better than making you starfuckers on that very first night.

Arm looping over your shoulders, he presses a kiss to the side of your head. Steals Jimin's drink from him. Gags when he realises it's neat tequila. Offers it to you regardless. Apologises when you also gag.

The night is lost to Dionysus. Just like its namesake, the club is a cesspit of sin and debauchery, but it's impossible not to love the way it feels.

You don't leave until the final song of the night.

"My place or yours?" Jeongguk asks as you meander down the street together, a little behind the rest of your friends. With convenience store snacks in your hands, Jeongguk's phone dead in his back pocket and your clutch bag in his hands, the pair of you are the poster children of a reckless youth maturing into something far better.

Gone are the days of seeking out new strangers, or living for the weekends.

This is it, you think. An endless back and forth of his place, or yours, until one day it'll become obsolete.

So you indulge in what little you have left of the early days. "Yours."

"You know Jimin'll wanna watch The Notebook in the morning, right?" He reminds you with a smile. Is at such ease with his life. Isn't sure what he did to deserve it all.

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

Choosing to walk the half an hour distance it takes to get back to Jeongguk's place, instead of opting for a taxi like the others to their respective homes, you and Jeongguk revel in the early hours of the morning. Talk nonsense. Talk business. Talk nonsense about business.

Time wasted with him is really not wasted at all. Even if the sun is coming up by the time you're entering his building, nodding at the doorman, neither of you are tired of one another. It's hard to imagine a reality where that would ever be true.

When you reach his apartment door, both of you stop in your tracks. It's still on the latch. Ajar. He glances over to you, brows furrowed. Steps in front of you, tucking you in behind him.

Says, "Keep quiet."

Slowly edging the door open, the entryway is a mess. Where a neat pile of shoes typically sits, clothes are strewn. It confuses him for a second—until he hears something that makes him dry heave.

He pushes the door fully open, and is met by Jimin cosplaying as his best Jeongguk impression, eyes wide, like a deer in headlights. His hands are over his crotch, naked and bare for all to see. Behind him, a half-naked girl darts to his room.

Both you and Jeongguk look at Jimin with equal parts shock and horror.

"At least close the bloody door!" Jeongguk almost shrieks.

"I thought you were going to DB's!"

"Well apparently not—wait," Jeongguk looks around the room. Recognises the clothes. So do you. Knows exactly who was wearing them earlier that evening. Gasps. Whisper-shouts, "Is that—"

"Shut up!" Jimin whisper-hisses back, and retreats backwards, hands still covering his modesty as if neither you nor Jeongguk have ever seen it before. "You didn't see shit!"

He escapes into his room, and you do hear his lock go, just to be safe.

Both you and Jeongguk look at each other in a state of shock. It's only broken when you say, "Well I guess he won't be watching The Notebook tomorrow."

But Jeongguk shakes his head. Nods towards the deep navy dress that's crumpled on the floor beside Jimin's shirt. The same dress Nabi had been in earlier that evening. Says, "It's her favourite film. She's the reason he watches it."

And on the counter, rests a flyer from the gallery event. It's folded into the shape of a butterfly.

Looks like the ones Jeongguk always attributed to Hayun.

It's only now that he realises he'd been wrong this whole time.

Just like Jimin watched The Notebook 'cause the girl he could never seem to get over loved it, Hayun made paper butterflies, 'cause her best friend taught her how to make them. Said it'd be a good little party trick to make boys fall in love with her.

And it had been—but it had also just been an entirely fabricated part of her personality. The irony of it all isn't lost on Jeongguk. All he can do is laugh. It confirms everything he already knew: he never understood love until you came along.

"What is it with us and walking in our housemates shagging?" You laugh as you kick off your shoes, unaware of Jeongguk's realisation. Sure he'd told you about Hayun's butterflies before you made your first birds, but it was so long ago that it's a distant memory, now.

"No idea," Jeongguk grins as he follows suit. Holds your hand as you head towards his bathroom. Forgets to grab his towels, but doesn't care even when he remembers. Will risk the naked dash across his apartment later. All he wants is to be with you right now. "We're not far off, though. Yoongi practically caught us at it earlier."

You hum as Jeongguk starts the shower, checking yourself over in the mirror as you discard your dress. The hickies bestowed upon you are ridiculous. The teasing from your friends will be relentless.

"Maybe we should stop being so reckless," you suppose with a glint in your eyes that Jeongguk catches as he turns to study you in the mirror. Slipping your dress off, you keep your eyes on him.

"Where's the fun in that?" He grins, coming to stand behind you. Dipping his lips to the base of your neck, his hands hold your hips. His kisses are gentle. Sleepy.

"So you want to get caught?"

"Never said that," he mumbles. "But I do want everyone to know you're mine, so if that's what it takes..."

"A ring would do the job just fine," you tell him without much thought. "Far less embarrassing, too."

Jeongguk rests his pointy chin on your shoulder. Looks at you in the mirror. "A ring?"

It's only now that you realise the gravity of what you've said. You're tired and your brain isn't really functioning right and oh god—you've barely even been dating for five minutes. It's too soon for any of that.

"Well I've already got a necklace," you try and downplay it, reaching up to touch the silver bird that sits between your collarbones. "Earrings work, too."

Jeongguk smirks. Stands. Rids himself of clothes, and walks to the shower. Tests the temperature of the water. Nonchalantly says, "Always thought you hated the idea of marriage."

"It's archaic," you casually reply, unclasping your bra, and letting it drop to the floor. Jeongguk's eyes are all over you. There's nothing about you he doesn't adore—your need to bicker with him included. "The tax benefits are nice, though."

He nods as you discard your underwear. Says, "I'd make you sign a prenup. Wouldn't want you stealing all my sculptures in the divorce."

" Action figures ," you correct him, joining him in the shower. He doesn't get a chance to argue back, for you're on your tippy toes and pressing a kiss against his lips to remedy the insult you know he's about to feign. "And you're already planning the divorce? That's not very promising. May as well not get married."

He shrugs. "Just making sure I have my ducks in a row before I commit to anything."

"Virgo," you accusingly tease, narrowing your eyes with a terribly hidden smile.

"What was it you said about Virgos?" He teases right back. "That we're written in the stars?"

You can bicker and you can argue all you like—but when Jeongguk has you in his sheets a little while later, curled up against his chest, softly settling into sleep like stardust into the atmosphere, he knows it must be true.

"Sweet dreams, B," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You mumble a response, half asleep already. Let him do as he pleases as he pulls your hand up to his lips. Barely register it when a tender kiss is pressed to your empty ring finger.

"Obsessed," you murmur against his chest—but also delicately press a kiss right where you know his heart is.

He just nods. Yawns. "Obsessed."

[dailyadventureprompts]

Villain: Mavros Arator, Voice of the Ascendant

The demagogues seem everywhere these days, putting their words to the tune of the populace's nebulous worries: this week it's the impiety of the realm's leaders, last week it was the barbarians infringing on the borders, before that it was the decaying morality of the youth. It's the same old song, just with new lyrics to fit with the times. No one's sure just when the crescendo will hit or how, but everyone who's been paying attention know they're going to try to bring the whole house down when it does.

Setup: A charismatic figure has risen to prominence channelling discontent in the wake of an unfavourable war. As a gifted orator and veteran of a conflict remembered for being more "glorious", the words of Mavros Arator carry weight with both the military and common people. He agitates on behalf of those who resent the diplomatic capitulations used to secure peace in a losing war his own rulers started, and argues for a revival of "national spirit" to strengthen the homeland so it does not allow such a disgraceful defeat to happen again.

What separates Mavros from any other blowhard protofascist is the fact that he's looking to summon a demon to purge his homeland of those unsympathetic to his cause. Scoured clean of all those unwilling to fight and die and obey, he and the other true believers will form an unstoppable army that will march out under the banner of conquest to settle at spearpoint every historical grievance in the realm's long history.

It's up to the party to stop this instigator and the hatemob he's made of their neighbours before he enacts his plan and ends up ascending to full dark lord status.

Background: Mavros loved his homeland, as a young man he went to war to defend it, spent decades bleeding for it, and that love endured even after his homeland spat him out with nothing but a soldier's pension and a lifetime of traumas he had no words to explain.

That was the point of course, empires are built on the back of men like Mavros, shaped from their earliest days to believe that their homeland is singularly great and beset by threats on all sides, or that war is the measure by which a son may prove his faith and loyalty rather than an enterprise made to expand the holdings of the powers that be.

The problem for those powers is that Mavros didn't die like he was supposed to, he soldiered on driven by a manic dedication that persisted despite his comrades getting scythed down around him. When he was too old for soldiering he turned to having a family, raising four boys and feeding them one after another into the waiting jaws of his nation.

A man less ardent in his love of home, less firm in his faith might have wavered when they brought the first of his sons' bloody helmets back in lieu of a body. He might have seen how his virtues, his loyalty, had been abused by those above him, made him question the justness of the wars and conquests and pain he had been apart of. instead that loss, made him open to change. Instead Mavros's convictions deepened, and by the time of his third son's death he had become so entrenched in the pit of his beliefs that he had unearthed a new truth: He loved his homeland, it was just being held back by the people who didn't love it enough.

It was deep in that pit where Mavros first heard the whispering of Diridaxx, the fiend known to diabolists as "He who claws from below". In ages past the demon was said to prey upon the weak, wicked, and impious, before clashing with an ancient hero and being struck down with a blow so divinely empowered that it not only buried the fiend deep underground but reduced him to ash along the way, depriving him of the strength required to ever escape. The depths of Mavros's despair and his own desire to see those "less thans" cleared from his home formed a connection between man and demon: first dreams, then visions, then a pact. Influence in exchange for escape, followed by victory in exchange for slaughter. The fact that the hero of the old myth happened to be one of the founders of the realm that handed Mavros's own homeland its recent defeat was just icing on the cake.

Adventure Hooks:

The party is likely to encounter Mavros's influence long before the man himself, as thugs, opportunists, and grifters look to take advantage of the post-war unrest to raise their place in the world and make good on his words. A troop of discontented soldiers may be shaking down travlers on the road as an unofficial "toll" to repay their service , while an enterprising merchant might stoke xenophobia to turn townsfolk against a competitor of forign origin.

It'll take more than speeches and random acts of violence to summon Diridaxx from the pit, it will take sacrifice. (un)Luckily for Mavros, he's been sacrificing all his life, and all that is required is a bit of occult-recontextualization to turn the deaths of his sons into a ritual years in the making. With fiend's magic his follower's resources at his command, it's only a matter of time before he gathers the bones of his three dead sons (and their haplessly dutiful surviving brother,) from their resting place in foreign lands and cremates them, suffusing their pyresmoke with Diridaxx's own noxious essence.

If you want to add another big bad to the mix and given similar themes of would be tyranny and xenophobia, consider checking out my genocidal fallen angel villain: Insiyah who could be very easily be using Mavros as her agent, or working alongside him to bring about his vision.

Also consider checking out my writeup on how d&d tends to mishandle matters of morality in it's game, and the simplistic way it views evil. Writing that inspired me to write a villain who was a very human sort of evil who utilized magic, rather than the all too common magical evil around which most campaigns are based.

Art 1

Art 2

[underneathitalldeepdives]

Gwen's Lyrics: Late To Bloom & Sooner

A few weeks ago, Gwen's unreleased song "Sooner" was posted on YouTube for the first time. The song, written by Gwen, Shane McAnally, Busbee, and Amy Wadge, was added to BMI in 2019 and seemingly came out of sessions Gwen had with those writers in the spring of 2019. (Another song written during this time called "You Kissed Me Back To Life" was spotted on BMI the same day as "Sooner." We still have not heard that one.) 

Fans at the time immediately guessed what "Sooner" might be about - Gwen's wish that she had met Blake earlier in life. Gwen posted what would turn out to be a line from the chorus under a throwback photo of Blake in September 2019:

This was about a month after the song title was discovered on BMI by fans, but time passed and nothing ever came of it.

As we know, Gwen eventually released a new studio album, "Bouquet," which did not include "Sooner" but included another song with an extremely similar theme - "Late To Bloom."

Here are the lyrics to "Sooner" and "Late To Bloom" side by side:

When comparing the songs, the thing that sticks out to me is that "Sooner" seems a little more personal and raw. It has a sad tune, includes striking references to Blake's previous marriage and his late father, and is more reflecting on the time that was lost. It's interesting her honesty about wishing he wouldn't have loved anyone else before her.

If she'd released this song, the line about "all the years you had to fake it" would have definitely gotten people talking. My opinion of this line is that it means that Blake and Miranda, same as Gwen and Gavin, had a lot of ups and downs, but as a public couple they always had to put on the best face for people and not let anyone see the cracks that were there. They had to pretend things were great even when they weren't (which is why their divorce came as quite a shock to the public).

"She didn't even know she wasted you" seems like a sister line to "And only a stupid girl would let you go" in "Rare" — Gwen likely believes Miranda took him for granted and didn't appreciate him the way that she does. But she is envious of the time that Miranda got with him before they met, time that she believes was wasted with the wrong people who just hurt them.

In contrast, "Late To Bloom" has a peppy tune and is more optimistic. It has more generalized lyrics that don't reference anything too deep, but still has a personal touch, talking about them riding in Blake's truck and picking flowers. The lyrics show that she is enjoying the present and looking toward the future, rather than dwelling on the past with so much melancholy.

It's possible the difference in tone between the two songs is due to the fact that "Sooner" was written when Gwen and Blake had only been dating a little over 3 years (and thus were only 3.5 years past their divorces), while "Late To Bloom" was written when they'd been together more than 7 years and were now married. It could be that the more time Gwen has gotten with Blake, the less it stings that they met so late because they have continually filled their years together with valuable shared experiences.

Shane McAnally would say that working with Gwen during those spring 2019 sessions (which included writing "Sooner") and hearing about her relationship with Blake helped inspire him while writing "Nobody But You."

“I had worked with Gwen Stefani, just a few days before I went in to write this song,” McAnally said. “When I heard the melody, it made me think of Blake, and it sounded like a love song. I just said, ‘We should kind of write this with them in mind.’”

“One of the main things we talked about was her and Blake, and she just was telling me how happy they were and how glad they were they found each other at this part of their life and they're just truly in love,” he says.

I notice in the lyrics of "Nobody But You," there is again the similar theme to "Sooner" about wasted time:

"All the wasted days, all the wasted nights/I blame it all on being young/Got no regrets, 'cause they got me here/But I don't wanna waste another one"

The longing to have found each other earlier is also expressed in Blake's 2021 wedding song, "We Can Reach the Stars," in the line - "We always said we wished we'd met long before we finally did."

Gwen again touches on this theme in a line of "Empty Vase" - "Why, why did it take so much time? You've always been the one I've been trying to find"

It's obvious that this thought has loomed large in Gwen's head over the years, how different things might be if she had been able to meet Blake earlier in life.

I wish she had released "Sooner" because it is a very honest and touching song, but listening to it actually made me feel a little depressed, too. It's just rather sad! I'm grateful there is a more cheerful and hopeful iteration in "Late To Bloom," showing a sunnier view of the theme of meeting your great love later in life.

[doppel-doodles]

Got a few here so brace yourself bestie-

𝗰𝗮𝗶𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗵𝗮 〜 what does your oc’s voice sound like?

𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗵𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗮𝗻 〜 what kind of people does your oc hate the most?

𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗶𝗶 〜 does your oc speak any other language(s)? if they didn’t learn to speak the language(s) when they were growing up, when and why did they learn it?

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗶 〜 does your oc’s name or design reference anything? i.e. music, movies, etc.

𝗱𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮 〜 post a song or a lyric that fits your oc

𝗵𝗮𝗿𝘃𝗲𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 〜 post some images or a moodboard that fit your oc’s aesthetic

𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗿 〜 describe your oc’s personality

For Jú, Ming and Baí :>>> Have fuunnnnn

OH TAMMY MY BEAUTIFUL FRIEND I CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON YOU

AHEM-

Ming

Caipirinha

I imagine Mings voice as really loud and bold, the kind that just GRABS your attention, I also think he doesn't have a really deep voice(puberty skipped him lol), a good fit would be Polites from Epic for the general vibe but he is definitely a bit more brash than him and talks way faster.

Manhattan

Wukong-

Nah,nah I'm jesting.

I feel like the one type of person Ming would immediately not like is those who take what they have for granted and demand more, it's the greed these people possess that would piss him off so much considering he had little to nothing that's just a punch in the gut.

So it grinds his gears even more when there is zero appreciation.

Blue Hawaii

Nope, he only ever spoke Chinese in the context of his lmk/jttw story:D

Chocolate Martini

Technically Ming references my other oc Klara in his design, his human one anyway, sharing her color pallet and even the name has the same meaning as hers which is "bright"! In his ghost form the blood dripping from his mouth also a reference to his death:}

Dirty Banana

I will throw in a whole bit of a song alongside some lyrics cause I feel like it:

"Gone from living feeces to your priority, funny how much more you notice something that you can't see."

"A whole garden of flowers and my name etched on a rock all this could've been avoided all i wanted was to talk."

"Now that I've been appointed as your new king I decree that it's too late to start caring about me."

From the song "Hansel" by Sodikken

"This life is amazing! If you greet it with open arms!"

From "Open Arms" from the Troy saga of Epic the musical

"Thanks for nothing."

"Swallow your poison make me numb, I don't care if my heart stops."

From "Poison" by Jayn

Harvey Wallbanger

Grasshopper

I would describe Mings personality as that of a caretaker, very kind and nurturing, he is always thinking of others to the point the only thoughts he spares himself are negative ones, he is also the most emotionally mature even if it doesn't seem like it, when it matters it is he who is always the bigger person.

This persists to how he is now but he definitely lost a lot of his optimism, he is more melancholic, more soft and slow. Less impulsive and always three steps ahead of everyone while sleeping with both eyes open as that once boundless trust is gone.

Shattered to bits.

Baí

Caipirinha

I have already made a voice claim for Baí with this animatic and honestly I genuinely think it's a perfect match, it's a very smooth voice and sounds absolutely menacing and condescending when it wants to be but it's also just enchanting at the same time! Very charming indeed.

Once again not too deep either and carries the same kind of calm I think is very signature to Baí.

Manhattan

It's people who seek conflict and cruelty without any rhyme or reason, it's the people who treat those they dont understand with disdain and disgust and it's the people who abuse and force their will upon others.

Baí hates monsters who call themselves humans.

Blue Hawaii

He speaks a lot! Chinese,Korean,Russian honestly just a bunch of countries surrounding Chinese borders.

He has been alive for so long and travelled so much, he definitely saw more of the world than most. And of course every new place meant he had to fit in, he definitely isn't fluent in all of them but he speaks many decent enough.

Chocolate Martini

Just like with Ming, Baí references my other oc Katie who is infact Klaras twin sister!

They also share a colour pallet and the same name meaning, in their case it means "pure". But Baí also has a reference to LBD as on the back of his jacket he has a ribcage embroidered on it which glows to!:}

Dirty Banana

"I remember you from a dream I thought was true, you bright with magic and I blindedby my youth."

"All I wish is, for your hand to hold, you see. Only your smile kills the dark in me."

"Was I a fool to trust in those lies?"

From AmaLees cover of "Magia" from Madoka Magica

"It's my devotion that cuts me open time again."

From "Devotion" by AmaLee

You want a taste of my brain? Okay. It's yours anyway."

From "Misery Meat" by Sodikken

"Be my mentor be, be my guide, show me where to run and where to hide."

"I know you would've known just what to do, with all the things that life coukd throw at you."

From "Alarm Call" by The Correspondents

Harvey Wallbanger

Grasshopper

Baí is defined by his serenity as a character, he is calm and composed yet just always a little mischievous, he comes across as scheming all the time. He is also almost always cared for by someone else so he is very reliant on other people, he can't really make decisions by himself as his life was always that other people make those choices for him.

And despite that he keeps people away from him emotionally, there is a wall there a strange sense of professionalism I guess?

No doubt tho he is creative, with flashy outfits and the flawless confidence of a model with just the right amount of sass to be classy.

Jú

Caipirinha

Obviously I want Jú's voice to be siren levels of beautiful but that isn't a very good description ey? So I thought a little more for what I truly wanted.

I picture a kinda gender neutral voice if that makes sense? Not so high pitch yet also not deep, right in the middle. Her tone is also extremely monotone and dry, she borderline sounds sarcastic without meaning to.

I want something commanding yet soft spoken, stern if you will.

Manhattan

Honestly I can see her hate those who exploit the ones who are naive, coming from the entertainment buisness this practice is normalised to a worrying degree.

Blue Hawaii

She doesn't speak many other languages with any kind of fluency other than maybe English since she is Yúnlü manger and handles a lot of the buisness matters for her and those can be international given her fame.

I think she does listen to a lot of different kinds traditional music from different cultures so she might've picked up a few words and phrases but nothing more.

Chocolate Martini

The stripes of her pants forming these rectangles refrence her "sturdy" personality as she is the most straight laced of her group.

Her colors also reference the bright oranges of her younger years now having dulled down to shades of brown.

Also her human fro references lyrics from the song "Queen of Kings" by Alessandra AHEM-

"Got raven hair, as dark as night."

"Icy eyes, outta sight, outta sight."

Dirty Banana

"I'm calling you like a Siren."

From "Siren" by AmaLee

"What role am I playing? A fool or humble gir? What mask am I wearing, does it cry or feel above the world?"

From "Entertaining" by HalaCG

"Belladonna,belladonna,belladonna,belladonna. Dangerous,addictive don't come here unless you wanna."

From "Belladonna" by Ava Max

"She,queen of the kings,runni' so fast,beatin' the wind. Nothi' in this world can stop the spread of her wings."

From "Queen of Kings" by Alessandra

Harvey Wallbanger

Grasshopper

Jú is the responsible one. You can count on her to get crap done but there isn't much fun on the side, she is no nonsense,dry, straight faced and seems perpetually either annoyed or disappointed by everything. While it definitely is not truly like that her reactions leave much to be desired by.

She is confident without being cocky but still fades into the background very easily and she doesn't seem to mind that, if anything she prefers it.

Has stopped putting in much effort into her relationships, or better put she is afraid to do so let alone seek out new ones, having become an introverted shut in who drowns herself in work.

Despite her dry exterior she is no robot tho, beneath it hides someone who can be the most genuine,caring and vulnerable person around.

[girlstuffnorp]

It Must Have Been Love by Roxette is such a Julie x Luke song in my mind now...

(Yes, I've just watched that piano cover by Charlie Gillespie in Suze 🥺😍💖)

The version of the song that we all love, which appeared on the Pretty Woman soundtrack, was released in 1990, so Luke would have most likely heard it as a teen - whether by choice, or simply through pop culture of the time. Did his parents rent a VHS of it to watch at home? Regardless, I could see Luke really liking the song, even if it's not as 'hard rock' as his typical musical taste.

Maybe he learns how to play it because he knows that his mom really enjoys the song? Maybe he wants to prove to her that his music can be a force for good, to make people genuinely happy, and not something that she can object to as being too dangerous and something for him to abandon. He doesn't realise that all she wants was for him to be safe and secure in his life and future career, and that she would support his talent, just as long as he's safe...

Imagine if sometime in between the events of eps 8 and 9, Luke performs it alone on the piano in the studio, and Julie wanders in and listens - totally mesmerised - like a role-reversal of Julie performing 'Wake Up' in ep 1. I could see him beginning to play in the empty room as sort of confirmation/proof of closure to himself. He has made peace with his relationship with his parents, and while the whole 'being dead' thing isn't great, his mom and dad both know that he loved - loves - them now. He might have run out on them, but he still loves them.

He moves onto the second verse of the song.

The atmosphere seems to shift as he continues to sing, his fingers touching the keys. For the first time in forever, he listens to the words that he sings. Really listens to them - not just as a song to cheer his mom up. As a song with true, honest feelings. A love song. A break-up song - full of bittersweet regret and heartache.

Julie pops into his mind suddenly. Her look of sheer disappointment, anger, hurt and loss all wrapped up into one and shot in his direction at the knowledge of the boys' impending crossing-over. Their hands fading through each others' grip. Never touching, never intending to be in each other's space. Out of time, out of luck. Thrown together under the strangest of circumstances, and fueling each other's foolish fantasies. That this could ever develop into something that wouldn't wreck them both. The song grows in intensity, and so does Luke's performance, the emotions rising within deep within him, his fingers flying faster over the keys.

The rest of the song rushes by. He's singing, and playing, but it's as if it's all coming from somewhere so deep inside that it frightens him at how intense it is. Julie laughing, both of them working through lyrics and melodies together, her smile. The way she lights up the stage, dazzling the world without even realising just how magnificent she is. They had been through so much together, and yet? Would it all melt away like the first snow of the year? Wonderful to think of and experience in the moment, but causing nothing but hassle and bitterness once it leaves?

They had to cross-over - Caleb was forcing their hand. The boys had always thought about it - moving on, and what that would look and feel like - but now they had Julie, and the new band, and this bond... What was the point of it all? Why had the universe brought them all together? For he, Alex and Reggie to learn some life lessons and then poof into whatever dimension came next? Didn't fate realise that if he was placed in the vicinity of someone as magnetic and unique as Julie, that it would change him forever? How was he supposed to simply stroll into the sunset and leave her all alone again? More loss, more heartache. For it could never work. He was a ghost, and she was human. It was never meant to work, but why couldn't it? During those moments on stage, and even off-stage, there's a spark, a tangible connection that Luke has quickly become addicted to. Waiting for his next hit of sunshine and magic. Julie was magic. They were best friends, but that didn't seem to be the words to define what they had. Their bond was so much more, the two of them inexplicably tangled together for however long that Luke could stay like this. The song was coming to an end, seeming to begin winding down in a vain attempt to calm his racing heart and mind.

It must have been love...

Fuck.

Alex and Reggie were right.

He was in love.

But it's over now.

The final lyrics hang in the air as the piano music fades away. He finally stops for breath, his fingers aching for a break as he pulls them away from the keys. But it's over now. But it's over now. But it's over now.

If anyone were to ask, he would lie - justify the performance with the mom excuse. It isn't that far from the truth - that was the intention he had when he began to play, after all. Now, however, Luke was going to have to deal with the gravity of what he had just realised. Somebody was bound to get hurt whatever he decided to do - he needs time to think.

Julie doesn't make her presence known. She'll assume that it is the aftershocks of her conversation with his parents about Unsaid Emily - Luke working through his feelings in song. As she walks away, however, she can't help but wonder. Maybe that's why she searches for the song on Spotify, letting the words wash over her as the music plays in her earbuds before she falls asleep for the night.

It must have been love...

Funny how a song can completely change your perspective on things.

(This is like a strange headcanon/one-shot mashup - I kinda want to expand on this? I just love It Must Have Been Love as a song - can you tell?😂🥺💖)

(Tagging @1mnobodywhoareyou @60sec400 @floating-in-the-blue and @legolasghosty for enabling me rambling like this 😂💖)

[wholoveseggs]

Moonlight - Chapter Fourteen

A woman’s life is turned completely upside-down when she encounters some demons in the woods.

I will be putting specific warnings for each chapter as they come out, there is smut and violence in some but I'll tag those chapters accordingly.

If you rather read this on Ao3- Link is here

31k Words - Warnings: Drug use

{Masterlist} - {Chapter list} Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen - Chapter Fifteen

Smoke

A dull ache had been steadily growing in Elijah's chest ever since the wedding. At first, he thought it was for Hayley, a deep loss he was working through. But when he closed his eyes at night, all he could see was Emma's face.

When Esther cracked open his red door, the memory of Emma was the first thing to come through. So profound was losing her that he completely hid her away, forgetting her very existence for centuries. He hated himself for what he did to her, plucking a perfect flower and grinding it into dust, then discarding the memory of her because he couldn't handle the guilt.

When he saw her at the wedding, his mind was so fractured he wasn't sure she was even real. At first, he believed she was just a hallucination he conjured to help him get through a dark day. So much else was going on; Klaus continued nonsense, his heart breaking over Hayley. Then, there she was, his Emma, more beautiful than his memory could ever detail. For a brief moment when he held her in his arms, all his problems melted away, and they were back in the clearing, speaking of soft things.

Then she disappeared again, and it was once again all his fault. Too distracted by his own pain to see hers.

After moving to Algiers, he spent most of his free time searching for her. Marcel and his vampire rabble were useless in this regard. The only clue he had that she was still in the city was from Cami, who told him that she saw Emma at Rousseau's a few times.

After many weeks, he had given up and assumed she had left the city. He started taking long walks at night; the lively nightlife was always a welcome respite from his dark thoughts.

On this particular evening, the humidity of the day had lingered after the sunset, creating a hushed blanket of fog over the city. People lazily strolled the streets, too warm to do anything more.

He was taking his usual route when he heard the annoying sound of bass reverberating from a car. He moved to the side of the street, listening to the car get closer, music blasting so loudly it made everything around it shake. He expected the car to zoom by him, but it slowed down and began cruising next to him, matching his pace. His annoyance grew, wondering if the inconsiderate fool harassing him knew how easily he could rip them apart. He turned to look at the driver, a deadly glare on his face.

"Wanna go for a ride? hot stuff," Emma chuckled. She was leaning out the car window, a cigarette in her hand. Her dark hair framed her perfect face, red lips curled into a wide smile. For weeks he had been looking for her, only for her to find him again.

"Emma, what are you doing out here?" He asked, stunned by her sudden appearance.

"Driving," she responded, taking one last drag of her cigarette and throwing it on the ground next to him. "Are you going to get in?" She asked.

Elijah's feet took him to the passenger-side door before his mind could catch up. After he took a seat, he looked her up and down; she was singing along to the lyrics of the vulgar rap song she was blasting. She turned down the music and looked at him, a cheeky smile on her face.

"Something to say?" She asked, looking him up and down.

"You are nothing like I remember," he chuckled.

"It has been almost nine hundred years, darling," Emma laughed. "What did you expect?"

She had a point, what did he expect? The sweet girl he fell for in the clearing who wasn't allowed to read?

She was watching him with intensity, her eyes lingering on his own before looking away.

"I've been looking for you," he said, sincerity in his voice. "I'm sorry about my behavior at the wedding."

"I dropped back into your life unexpectedly after centuries apart. You have nothing to be sorry about," she replied, her tone gentle and understanding.

He reached out and took her hand, bringing it to his lips; she smiled sweetly at his gesture.

"What are you doing tonight?" She inquired, as he let go of her hand.

"Nothing," he shrugged, intrigued by her sudden interest.

"Want to go to a house party with me?" She asked.

"A… house party?" He repeated, slightly bemused.

"Yeah, it's like a gala or a ball. But actually fun," she teased, letting out a soft laugh.

Without waiting for a response, she started driving them away into the night, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. He observed her outfit; she was wearing a black long-sleeve dress that went to her mid-thigh, with expensive leather boots that went to her knees. She gave him a side glance, a knowing smile forming on her face.

"How's the family?" Emma asked, her eyes briefly meeting him before returning to the road.

"Finn and Kol are dead, Rebekah is in a new body, and Klaus is Klaus," he replied, turning his gaze to the window.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said genuinely, her voice carrying a touch of sympathy. "Rebekah was so sweet to me and Kol was a lot of fun."

"I recall you and Kol getting into all sorts of trouble," Elijah remarked. "Didn't you get him to compel a man to strip naked and sell all his clothes to you?"

Emma burst into laughter, a vivid memory playing in her mind. Then, her expression turned slightly guilty. "Yeah, that wasn't very kind of me."

They parked outside a high-rise. Emma pulled down the driver mirror to check her appearance, then noticed Elijah watching her and gave him a wink. She got out of the car and stretched, then moved to the back door on the passenger side. He got out, waiting for her to finish rummaging under the backseat. She then pulled out an unopened bottle of whiskey.

"Here, hold this," she said, handing the bottle to him. With his hands occupied, she started undoing his tie. He looked down at her with dark eyes, enjoying the moment of closeness.

"Elijah Mikaelson, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you are into me," she smiled, slowly pulling the tie off his neck while maintaining eye contact. She tossed his tie into the backseat, then took the bottle from his hands.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked.

"Because you don't wear a suit to a house party," Emma responded.

"That's not what I meant," he said flatly.

"You need it. Now, take off your jacket," she replied. He pulled it off and handed it to her, and she tossed it in the back with his tie.

"Better," she said, then walked past him toward the front door of the building. He followed wordlessly, trying not to stare at her lovely backside.

"What do you think I need?" he inquired, his voice low with intrigue.

"You always try to fix what's broken in other people," She opened the front door and held it open for him. "It's time for someone to do that for you."

Is it that obvious that I'm broken, he thought. The way she looked at him made him feel so vulnerable, like she could see right through him. So much time had passed without her, yet she seemed to understand him intrinsically. But he didn't want her to see the truth of him, that he really was a demon. A monster who picked the wings off every beautiful butterfly he found.

"Stop it," she said softly, looking at him as they got on the elevator. "Whatever is eating you up inside, it's written all over your face."

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, looking down at his feet.

"That's alright," she responded. She took a step forward and reached for his shirt, unbuttoning the first few buttons then smoothing her hands across his shoulders. "Make me a promise," she asked, looking up at him.

He nodded, her touch suddenly making it hard to speak.

"Try and have fun tonight," she said, giving him a sweet smile. "It will do you good."

Elijah could hear the whispers begin as soon as they walked in. Patrons gave them stolen glances as they passed.

"I would have thought partying with a bunch of baby vampires was beneath you," he murmured to Emma.

She let out an exaggerated gasp and turned to him, her eyes widening in mock surprise. "Oh, vampires here? How utterly shocking," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She pressed a hand playfully into his chest, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Will you protect me?" she asked in a girly voice before breaking into a playful smirk. She then backed away and effortlessly flicked the cap off the bottle of whiskey.

He took the bottle from her hand, his movements smooth and confident. Leaning in, he whispered in her ear, his voice a low, velvet growl. "I did promise I'd attempt to enjoy myself, but even I have my boundaries," he said, his playful tone laced with a hint of seriousness. "I won't indulge straight from the bottle. Let's at least use proper glasses." With that, he made his way to the kitchen with the whiskey in hand.

He returned to the main room, glasses in hand, looking for her. He focused his hearing, trying to locate her, but didn't pick up anything. He continued through to the next room, partygoers parting around him like the sea.

Bright neon nights and smoke obscured his vision, the sound of electronic drums and synths drowned out all other noise. A woman was singing a slow love song into a mike, a pleasant contrast to the background music. A group of listeners were gathered around her, swaying gently to the song, others were dancing raucously to the synths.

He picked up on Emma's voice from across the room, and started heading in her direction.

"Are you a new one? I haven't seen you around here before," said a man.

"I'm new around here," Emma replied, her voice soft and breathy.

"I can help you out, teach you a thing or two," the man responded.

"Really?" She replied, with perfect sincerity.

"Absolutely, beautiful. I've been around for a while. Know lots of people, even Marcel," he said in a confident tone.

"The king? That's so cool." She replied without a hint of sarcasm.

"I can even help you get a daylight ring," he said.

"Wow, you have a daylight ring?" she said in amazement.

Elijah could see the young vampire sitting close to Emma, his hand on her thigh. He was leaning in to whisper in her ear. Mild jealousy bubbled in his chest, even though it was unfair for him to feel that way.

He approached them, handing Emma her drink and sitting on the other side of her. He placed a possessive hand on her waist, staring intensely at the man.

The man's face completely drained of color when he saw Elijah. Emma was still looking at the young vampire, her mouth twitching as she tried to control her laughter.

"Elijah Mikaelson… I�� uh… oh, there's my friend," the young one said, getting up and walking away as fast as possible.

Emma burst out laughing, casually placing her hand on Elijah's knee and taking a sip of her drink as she watched the young one scurry away.

"I see you are still fond of torture," he said, pulling her closer to him, his hand resting casually at the base of her neck.

She leaned into his side, watching the singer belt out another slow love song.

"Torture? No. I was just teaching that young man a life lesson," she chuckled.

She turned to look at him, the neon lights illuminating her perfect face. "Are you having fun yet?" She asked, giving him a curious smile.

"Perhaps after a few more of these," he said, holding up his drink.

She rolled her eyes and pulled something out of her bra. It was a small plastic baggie with a few pink pills in it.

"Emma," he admonished, "No."

"Over one thousand years roaming this earth and you never learned how to have fun," she chuckled.

"I'm not a degenerate drug user," he said seriously.

"Right, you just eat people and occasionally rip hearts out," she responded, her tone teasing. "What's more degenerate?"

"I don't think it's wise for me to alter my mental state presently," he responded.

Emma turned to look into his eyes, leaning close to ensure no one else could hear. "MDMA can help reduce anxiety," she said quietly. "It helped me; it could help you."

"I could lose control and hurt you," he whispered back, his concern evident.

"I won't let you lose control," she reassured him, her hand gently touching his cheek. "I can guide you through it."

Elijah let out a long sigh, hoping he wouldn't regret this. "Fine."

The time began to pass in a strange manner, as if he was blinking too slowly and excessively. He felt the music in his muscles, and could feel laughter in the air. He found himself on the dance floor, his arms wrapped around Emma's waist.

"Your eyes are mesmerizing," he said, looking down at her in awe.

She smiled, running her hands through his hair as they moved together. All his anger, pain, and guilt had completely dissolved; all he could feel was bliss. Emma was right, he needed this.

"That feels amazing," he whispered, closing his eyes as waves of euphoria crashed over him.

"There's my Elijah," she said softly, gently caressing the creases that formed around his eyes when he smiled.

In the haze of euphoria, he found himself transported to a different place and time. They were standing in the doorway of her old house, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. It was reminiscent of the night he had first fallen in love with her, the memory etched into his mind like a cherished painting.

Yet, the intoxicating high was abruptly shattered by a jarring shift in his perception. The moonlight turned crimson, casting eerie shadows across Emma's face. Blood oozed from her hairline, staining her skin as if the moon itself wept tears of red. Her face transformed into that of his first love, someone he had killed. She clutched at her neck as blood poured from it, her screams and pleas overwhelming his senses.

Emma was pulled into his mind, facing a red door. In her peripheral vision, a woman darted past her, begging for mercy before Elijah tore her throat out. Emma turned away, only to see another version of him leaning over a bathtub, howling in pain, cradling a dead woman's body in his arms. A loud bang echoed as the door slammed open behind her. Emma turned around to see Elijah covered in blood, walking toward her with a cold expression and pitch-black eyes. She reached out, pressing a hand against his chest to halt him, gently touching the skin around his eyes as veins danced around them. "It's alright, dark one," she whispered.

"I'm a demon who plucks the wings off every beautiful butterfly he finds," he growled, attempting to push her away, consumed by a thirst for blood that clouded his reasoning. She held onto him tightly, her strength nearly matching his own and her control far superior.

"You never plucked my wings; you freed me from my cocoon," she said softly, pushing him back. "Remember? You saved me."

Elijah recalled the look on Tomas's face before he snapped his neck. He enjoyed killing Tomas, never regretting it for a moment. He remembered the way Emma looked on the floor, helpless and dying. I did save her, he thought.

"Elijah," she said gently, "do you remember when I showed you the horses at sunset?"

Her words cut through the torrent of his thoughts, transporting him back to the peaceful memory they shared. The golden hues of the setting sun, the soft neighs of the horses, and the delicate scent of lilacs and mint surrounded him once more. Emma's presence became a lifeline, pulling him back from the abyss behind his red door.

"Yes," he responded.

"Good, picture it in your mind," she whispered. "What did you hear? What did you smell?"

"I could hear the village bell and galloping hooves. I could smell lilacs and mint, the scent of you," he murmured as his hallucinations faded.

"There you go," she said softly, "you're alright, you're in control."

Their eyes met; she had a warm smile on her face and huge pupils from the drugs. She cupped his cheek, and he placed his hand on hers.

They moved together, the world a blur around them until they reached the car. The waves of euphoria washed over him once more, heightening his senses and intensifying his desire for her. Unable to resist the magnetic pull between them, he gently pushed her against the car, the metal cool against her back as his body pressed into hers.

"I want you," he whispered in her ear, then began trailing kisses down her neck.

"Neither of us are fit to drive," she giggled, her hands roaming his chest then gently pushing him away.

Elijah spotted a passerby and, in an instant, compelled them to assist. The unsuspecting individual was pulled into their whirlwind, agreeing to drive them to Elijah's place under his compulsion.

"You should pay for their cab back," Emma chuckled, her figure relaxed against the front door of his building, observing the confusion etched on the driver's face.

"Fuck. Right." Elijah's voice was laced with realization as he swiftly turned back to the stranger. He held the person's shoulders firmly, his eyes locking onto theirs. "You will forget all of this; thank you, here." He pressed a handful of bills into their hand, before hurrying back to Emma, pulling her inside.

"Are you having fun yet?" she teased as they entered his apartment, her voice a playful lilt.

"Absolutely," he replied, his smile wide and genuine. Guiding her to the sofa, he settled down, bringing her onto his lap. Her legs wrapped around his hips. His eyes, filled with desire, lingered on her lips, mere inches away from his.

"Good," she murmured, her hands tracing the contours of his neck and jaw.

Elijah leaned in, eager to capture her lips with his own, but she prevented him from doing so by holding onto his hair.

"Do you want to kiss me?" she asked, saying it in the exact same way she had almost a millennium ago.

"Yes," he whispered, his eyes meeting hers.

"I don't think that's wise," she responded, a gentle smile on her face.

"I don't care," he responded teasingly.

"I do," she said softly, pushing herself off of him. She turned away, her silhouette framed by the moonlight streaming through the window, casting a gentle glow on her features as she looked down at the city below.

"Emma," he said gently, his voice a caress as he moved to stand behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing tender kisses onto her shoulder.

"I have always loved you, Elijah," she whispered, leaning into his embrace. "But I'm not going to sleep with you. You needed a friend tonight, not a lover."

"Why not both?" he murmured, his lips tracing a delicate path up her neck.

"That's just the drugs talking," she chuckled, her tone a mixture of amusement and fondness, as she gently moved away from him.

He reached out, his hand grasping hers in an attempt to pull her close once more, but she shook her head gently, her resolve unwavering.

"Good night, dark one," she said, her words laced with both tenderness and finality, before turning away and walking out the door, leaving him standing there, bathed in the soft moonlight.

{Masterlist} - {Chapter list} Chapter Thirteen - Chapter Fourteen - Chapter Fifteen

[onmyyan]

Can you please make more Marco's headcanons like I bet he has a weapon collection

TW'S: YANDERE THEMES, MURDER MENTION, BONES AS A GIFT, MARCOS IS A WARNING HIMSELF LMAO (NOT EDITED)

S'more Marcos Hc's

Absolutely has a weapons collection and he names every single one he gets his grubby little hands on.

His guns are all custom made and he has this set of neon throwing knives, razor sharp and deadly.

His creepy little warehouse is a lot less creepy on the inside, posters of his favorite movies and bands litter the walls, sure their spattered with blood but I digress, the training dummies have spray painted smiley faces and when he gets bored he likes to see just how many knives can fit in one face.

He's the best at killing and it shows, has gotten paid to kill twice now and loved it.

And with both of those phat checks he was able to spend time doing his favorite thing, doting on you.

Once bought one of those really cool looking swords from this sketchy shop downtown and tried to decapitate a guy with it but when he brought the weapon down on the poor dudes neck it breaks like a Lego set and they just stand there in this painfully awkward silence.

He of course has to shoot him so no one ever hears of his embarrassment.

Has a few gnarly scars on his legs from his early skateboarding days, if Manny bet him he couldn't grind down their highschools 25ft stair railing he absolutely does it, even though he'd only just got the board that morning.

Had a kill bill phase where he kept trynna pluck people's eyes out like Uma Thurman did the blonde shawty in the trailer.

He the type to silently sway with you in the kitchen at some ungodly hour, his hand on your hips, humming a song he doesn't know the lyrics to.

Stops mid sentence a lot just cuz he can't wrap his head around someone as incredible as you being his.

The biggest, goofiest smile on his face let's you know he's lost in lala land and hasn't heard the last 30 seconds of your conversation

But you find it hard to be mad when he's drawing hearts into your skin and staring into your eyes with so much love it catches you off guard.

Wants matching tattoos but the idea of someone getting that close to you makes his skin itch so that won't happen until he can do it himself.

Him and Manny have weekly hang outs where they each dish and gossip about their individual darlings.

His twin is the only other man he'd trust you to be alone with, and it's not a lack of faith in you, so much as it is a lack of faith in the rest of the world.

His older brothers are no exception to this rule, the rare times you do meet with them Marcos keeps it short and sweet, and he never leaves your side.

If you're a morbid little gremlin like he is, he will absolutely gift you the bones of his latest kill (after a deep cleaning ofc) he tells you they're just super realistic replicas 👀 and you have no idea it's the scumbag who hit on you a few weeks ago, nothing too serious just a finger bone or piece of skull.

Wants to get married yesterday, likes dropping subtle hints like,

"hm our ring fingers looks kinda empty👀" or

"Just hypothetically - like totally not serious but between these two venues which one screams happily ever after? 👀"

As much as his playboy past would lead you to believe he's the noncommittal type, you are his heart and soul, and he'd rather gut himself in a dirty street gutter then be with anyone but you.

The second he realizes he loves you he's got it in his mind that you're endgame, he will be your loving husband and you will be buried together.

Sends you those deep-fried semi scary memes and TikTok's when it's 3AM and he knows you aren't sleep.

He knows because he cloned your phone and can constantly see what you're doing.

Reads romance novels for ideas on how to well, romance you, because he heard you mention once that you loved how they portray love in the stories.

Sprays your perfume in the room when you're at school/work/away from him long enough and it helps to quell his possessiveness

Just barely though because you mention lunch and whoop look who's showing up, food in hand and mentally manifesting you say fuck it and just go home with him.

Sometimes he has these night terrors where you're just gone and he wakes up crying, chest heaving from the heavy pit that had formed, and god forbid you're not in bed when he wakes up because he needs to be held, needs to lay his ear on your chest and hear you're still there, still with him.

Tries to make you breakfast in bed once and gives you both food poisoning but on the bright side you stay in bed beside him all day and he finds all the running back and forth to the bathroom totally worth it.

You throw on one of his shirts in a hurry one morning and he is transfixed, talking absolutely gobsmacked by how tantalizing you look when you're completely surrounded by him.

Low-key sabotages your wardrobe by hiding your shirts when he knows you're in a rush just so have to wear something of his.

"Sorry baby, no clue where that pesky shirt ran off to buuut I just so happen to have this here wonderfully made Versace button up of mine that really makes your eyes pop :) how lucky is that huh?"

Sprays it with cologne the night before so if any mf gets too close they smell him.

Can't say no to you, like at all.

Type of mf to throw his stupidly expensive jacket on the floor so you don't have to step in a puddle because he seen it in a movie once. (You could have just avoided the puddle but he looked so proud of himself as he held your hand to jump over it you had to indulge him)

Horny drunk but also a super lovey dovey drunk.

Loves taking you to concert's, especially when his favorite metal bands are playing, being surrounded by the music he loves is only enhanced when he looks down and sees you enjoying it too.

Talks in his sleep, 50% of the time its terrifying, nonsensical, ramblings but the other half is all about you, even when he's unconscious, you're on his mind.

[00ops1e]

Sunshine for Everyone pt.2

Pricefield! Fluff!

Life is Strange - Max Caufield x Chloe Price

After saving Chloe at the expense of Arcadia Bay, our favorite girls are forced to flee their hometown. It soon becomes apparent that while they can run from the storm, running from their desires just isn't plausible.

click here for part one

“I swear I could sleep forever,” Max mutters, cuddling into the blanket further. The motel had proven to be a good idea, using someone else’s hot water and blankets was always nice. The pair were too tired to even notice the television only had four channels, or that the mattress was a little lumpy. Maybe things just weren’t so bad if they had each other.

“We can stay as long as you'd like,” Chloe trails off, “s’cheap enough anyways we deserve a vacation.” she babbles with eyes half closed, no longer sure of her words. The girls lay in bed, inches between. The last room available happened to be a single, and she had managed to haggle the price down, so fucking score again. When the man in the office mentioned the single bed, Chloe felt something flutter deep in her gut. It was a giddy, childlike feeling, but muddled with some sort of anxiety. 

Max shifted in the bed, mind still racing, “Will you hold me?” She heard the words fall from her lips before they even registered in her brain. The question appears to catch both girls off guard. It hung in the air for a moment, Max began to babble, face growing red, “I- 'm sorry I really didn’t mean to… I just, I can't stop it's all too much. I don’t know what's w-wrong with me.”

Without hesitation, she pulls the smaller girl into her arms, as if rehearsed, as if Chloe had been waiting a lifetime. Instantly the tension evicts Max’s body. The sweet musk of her shampoo, perfume, whatever it was completely enveloped Chloe. Holding her tight just felt natural, like all was well with the world. Comforting others has never come easy for Chloe, always awkward, never knowing what to say or do. Not with Max though, she made everything easy. Existing with her felt like hearing an old song and singing along perfectly, yet recalling none of the lyrics. She traces small circles into Max’s back, the smaller girl somewhat buried in her chest.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Chloe starts, angry at the world for putting her max through all of this, “y-you didn't ask for any of this. You shouldn't have seen even half the shit you did. Max, I swear to you if there was a way I could take it all away, I’d do it.” Max looks up at her, tears in those beautiful blue eyes threatening to spill. A pang of fear hits Chloe right in the gut. Did she say something wrong? Did Chloe cause those tears? 

She begins to ramble, “Shit, I’m not saying I'm not glad I found you again, or that you shouldn’t have saved me or-or anything like that,” a sense of urgency laced her tone, god she was supposed to be helping not making it worse. “I just- I wish I could fix it, seriously Max. I am so so fucking happy you’re with me again. I don’t know, I guess, i-i just feel like it's all my fault” Her voice thickened towards the end, holding back a sob. ‘This is not about you Chloe,’ she thinks, reprimanding herself for being so selfish. But the guilt had been festering, gnawing at her organs like some feral dog with a bone. She was the reason the whole world had turned upside down.

“C-Chloe,” Max mumbled, sitting up to look at her properly. With shaky hands, she took the girl's face in her hands. Forcing Chloe to meet her eyes, hands lingering on her cheeks a bit too long before pushing the messy blue hair behind her ears. Her hands rest languidly on Chloe’s shoulders, reassuring her somehow. Max sat and contemplated her next words before answering, “None of this was you, okay? This is some freak-supernatural stuff okay? I do not blame you. Do you hear me? Please don't ever think that. I’d go through it all again if it meant I had you. Chloe, you're my best friend.”

It was like Max was able to reach inside and undo the knots in Chloe’s stomach. No one had ever done so with such ease, such grace. Not even Rachel, though that hurt to admit. Max just knew her, regardless of the years apart. Deep down, way below the rough punk girl exterior, Chloe was still the same little girl Max had grown up with. A soft smile inched its way to the surface, god how could she not smile looking at her? The way her hair fell, perfectly framed those soft doe eyes. Those fucking freckles and long lashes. The way Max would look up at her, eyelids heavy, how could anyone keep a straight face? Chloe hadn’t realized she was staring until she felt a soft squeeze on her shoulder.

“Thank you,” Chloe mustered up, embarrassment pricking at her cheeks. She shifted in place, yearning for closeness once more. These feelings, they can't be normal. Max’s words reverberate in her skull, ‘my best friend’  they stung a little. Those ten letters formed a lump in her throat, a pit in her chest. The words had some sort of mal effect on her, and she just couldn’t pinpoint the reason. Chloe once again chalked it up to just feeling weird about Arcadia.

The blank look in Chloe’s eyes prompts Max to speak. Whatever had her in such a trance could not possibly be kind. Max used a shaky hand to brush the girl’s cheek, “Do you think we could get some sleep now?” she proposed, pulling Chloe from the complexities that danced in her mind. 

She nods silently and lays her head on the pillow, wriggling slightly to settle in. Max drapes an arm around her shoulders, pulling that mess of blue hair onto her chest. Upon feeling the weight on her chest, Max lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. This was a comfort unknown to her, never before had she felt this light. An absentminded hand travels to Chloe’s hair, despite all the bleach and dye damn it was soft. With her fingers tangled in the blue locks, everything felt right in the world.

“Everything that happened was so terrible,” Max breathes, wanting to offer one final comfort before slumber claimed them both, “It was so terrible, we’re not okay. But we’re gonna be. We can work through it Price, we’re a team and-and we can heal together. I’ll help you, we don't have to face things alone.” max consoled, her voice wavering ever so slightly. 

“It's you and me against the world Caufield, now and forever,” Chloe assured, tightening her grip on the smaller girl, as if afraid she’d get snatched away, “seriously max, what would I do without you?” she let out a small chuckle before closing her eyes and passing out, still entangled with her best friend.

I have yet to begin writing the rest of this (call of duty brainrot is taking over my life) but i promise my google doc has many many ideas. stay tuned ig? lots of love, liz

[storiesofaot]

WIP game!! I find it so funny how you name your files, but I love it. So organized.

How about "A Thousand Times Nothing Happened - Zoom" ? It sounds like "A Thousand Times Hange and Levi had Insane Tension But Were Too Emotionally Constipated to Act" and I can always get behind tension.

Thank you so much, @starshower1215 - haha yes, I do my best to keep everything organised 😂

You're actually not too far off! Let me rephrase it a little bit, "A Thousand Times Hange And Levi Acted As Best Friends And That One Time They Had Insane Tension And Didn't" (yours sounded so much cooler, though!).

This oneshot is based on a German song (xD) that randomly came to my attention again, and which I dont even like thaaat much, but my Levihan brain immediately turned the lyrics into an Modern AU fic, oops! Levi and Hange have been friends since they were four years old, and they stayed best friends for the next 24 years until one night changed it all... *dramatic drum roll*

It's going to switch between present time and flashbacks of them growing up together, because that's where the lyrics led me (and I followed). Here's a little snippet from the beginning, with the cursive being the (translated) lyrics of the song:

◇

You just wanted to pass the time in the evening, and since you didn’t want to go alone, you called me. We were only friends and wanted to stay that way, not in a dream I believed something could happen.

Running a shaky hand over his face, Levi sighed and closed his eyes, listening to the soft click of her bathroom door. Saying that this night had taken an unexpected turn was probably the understatement of the year. Actually, no - of the century, or rather, of his entire life. This was what happened when he ended up agreeing to things he didn’t want to do. He should’ve said no, should’ve explained that it had been a long day at the bookstore, that he was tired and only wanted to lie down and read a little before falling asleep.

◇

A little snippet from one of the flashback scenes:

◇

I don’t even know how long we have known each other. Your parents used to go bowling with mine. We stayed at home, you fell asleep in front of the TV. We were like siblings during all those years.

It had all started when Hange moved in with her parents and her older brother at the young age of four, into the house right across the street from where he lived. His mother had insisted on giving her family a little welcome gift and, against his will, had taken him along - his little hand in one of hers and a box of homemade cookies in the other. “If I saw correctly, they have two kids, a girl and a boy. Who knows, maybe you can become friends! Wouldn’t that be great?”

Levi had shaken his head, a deep scowl on his face. He didn’t want a friend; he had his picture books and his mum, what else did he need? The kids at kindergarten were all dumb; they didn’t like playing with him - so why should those two kids be any different?

◇

And the moment things started to shift:

◇

Soon, he was nodding along to whatever she was saying, her words all but lost under the pounding bass, and when she laughed, he found himself smiling too. Because it was Hange, and her laugh always made everything feel a little lighter. But tonight, it stirred something different in him - a strange tingle in his stomach as he watched her look at him, nose crinkling, eyes alight with amusement.

(...)

She squinted a little, as if deciding how to answer his question. Or maybe she was just too drunk and trying to refocus her eyes on him. “I’m trying to read you,” she finally replied. “Something’s different about you tonight, and I wanna know what.”

◇

This story contails probably the most "sensual" writing I have ever done, but it's definitely nothing explicit, the emphasis is more on the emotional connection 😆 And it's also pretty much finished, so I might upload it towards the end of the week! (if everything goes well ha)

Thank you so much for asking, and have a great day/night! 🌙

The WIP tag game 💛

[sheenashifts1217]

hello! ^-^ i just saw your post about shufflemancy, and if you're still taking requests, i would love to get a message from dean winchester (he/him) from my supernatural dr.

my name is ange or angelica (she/her). i don't really have any specific questions. anything that comes through i will be happy with!

tysm for doing this for the community!! getting a reading helps so much with motivation it's crazy 🫶 and i personally LOVE shufflemancy because music means so much to me. if you decide to do this, please take your time, i'm in no rush. take care!! 🫂💕

Hello, pretty!! You’re so kind. I love doing shufflemancy and learning more about it. I love it so much because music means a lot to me as well. Im also really excited to do this reading because I love supernatural!

What Dean wants to say to you:

First song:

Lyrics standing out:

“I’m so glad you made time to see me

Your guard is up

I left them there to die

This is me swallowing my pride

I’m sorry

Nothing but missing you

Wishing I realized

All the time

I haven’t been sleeping

Your birthday passed

Watch you laughing from the passenger side (I literally saw you laughing in his impala while y’all ride with the windows down. Sam sitting in the back seat pouting)

Gave me all your love (he feels that you’re the best thing that has and will ever happen to him. Awww)

Freedom

Change my own mind

Your sweet smile

So good to me

So right

You saw me cry

I swear I’d love you right

I’d go back in time and change it, but I can’t”

Oh girl, the love this man feels for you is DEEP. I’m picking up on a slow burn between you guys in the past. He hates that his guard was up so high when you guys first met or maybe started getting close and he pushed you away at first. He hates that he did that and he’s so sorry. But, you stayed anyway, even when he did push you away and he’s very grateful for that. He’s almost jealous of you because of how kind hearted and patient you are with him. It pisses him off lmao. He wants to be more like you. He says, “you make me better”. He worries he will ruin you or take away your “Pureness”, but he will never leave you. He doesn’t like that you put yourself in danger for him. He feels like he doesn’t deserve it. He wants you to hold him at night. He has a soft spot for you, but he said “you already know that”. Ever since that day you saw him at his most vulnerable and showed him that it’s okay to be vulnerable and you accept him, he’s felt like he owes you the world. He loves you so much and wants to keep you pure.

Second song:

Lyrics standing out:

“Feeling destructive

Let me break it down

Build it up

Let me be honest

Wanted to protect you

We ain’t that different (he sees himself in you, the part of him that he thought he lost)

Don’t you walk away from me

See the mansions

Falling for weakness

I know you love when I sing

Pray I get through”

Idk why, but I kept seeing that scene of him as a kid at Christmas time. He’s a self destructive person due to the trauma he’s been through. He doesn’t want to put that onto you, but he knows you’re willing to listen. He needs your reassurance. He’s afraid of saying too much and scaring you away. He sees himself in you, the part he locked away because he thought it made him weak. You amaze him because you’re like that part of him but you’re so strong. You make him feel like a kid again. He wants to sheild you from the world and wants you to always come to him and open up. He also LOVES your car rides together and when you tell him he’s a bad singer. He really loves your smile and always wants to be the reason for it. He also really wants to dance with you.

Overall, Dean put up a lot of walls in his past and didn’t know what to do when you broke them down. Im hearing “Heart attack”, by One Direction, playing in my head. That may mean something to you. He’s so happy you tore those walls down. Now he needs you to guide him without him. Like a horse getting used to not having to wear blinders anymore. Like he has so much freedom now, he doesn’t know how to use it. He wants to be able to guide you in the same way. He would give you the world. He loves how you two are playful with each other and have a very “puppy love” relationship.

Happy shifting, my love. I hope this resonates and please give feedback :) 🫶💗

Edit: also, I’m not sure if he is your s/o or not. I picked up on either him being your s/o, but I also kind of felt like a best friend kind of energy. Could be a best friends to lovers? Either way, he loves you deeply and wants you to know that. Whether it be platonically or romantically

[moonferry]

guys i relate this song to shane so much i literally imagine amvs everytime i listen to it .

like aside from the religion mention (shane is an atheist) it fits him to a t? and ooh foaming at the mouth. shane with a fear of losing everything he worked so hard to gain? he's literally been at the point where he has had NOTHING and felt so helpless and then he finally had the courage to recover & even take a chance on the new farmer, who loves him for who he is - despite everything he's been through. he finally has something he can be proud of and he's so grateful that the universe finally gave him a small glimmer of hope.

i think he'd be absolutely terrified of losing everything or that it was all one big joke. he definitely feels like he doesn't deserve anything he has - especially someone to love him as much as the farmer. his brain loves to tell him that everything is just going to disappear in a second or that he shouldn't experience anything good ever. but he has a good thing now and his brain can't handle that.

in the song, there's a lyric that says, "if everything's good and it's great, why do i sit and wait until it's gone?" & one that says "but i'm up at night thinkin' i just might lose it all." and i feel like those are so shane coded it isn't even funny. this farmer was the first person to inspire him to get the help he needs. he learns that it CAN get better, it just takes time and effort. he put in so much work to make himself better all because someone believed that he could.

no one has EVER believed in him or thought he could be something other than what he was, especially not himself. but now someone has? and better yet, they want to continually spend time with him? he honestly can't believe it. but it's real.

i imagine he often wakes up in a panic because he had a horrible dream that nothing was real and that he was still in the same place mentally - the place of nothing but desolation and anger. he is so terrified of losing everything and returning to his unhealthy lifestyle.

he KNOWS the farmer isn't responsible for his improvement, they didn't "fix" him, they simply showed him something he hadn't experienced before: compassion, unconditional love, and kindness. they filled him with so many knew emotions that it made his head spin and he LIKES these knew emotions. but he's oh so afraid that it won't last. after all, nothing good seemed to last before, so why would this time be any different? but this time is different. he finds someone who loves him - who truly loves him, despite what he's been through or how his brain works. someone who loves him even harder in the tough times and will hold his hand so tightly his fingers break. for the first time in a long time, shane is finally able to feel something that isn't a swarm of negative emotions. he's able to feel happy. to feel loved.

"but there's no man as terrified as the man who stands to lose you" fits shane perfectly. he is so scared when he realized he had become attached to you. you made his worm eaten heart whole again. so yes, he's so afraid. he loves someone so deeply and that scares him. the last time he cared about someone too much, they died and left their daughter in his care. he absolutely loved jas's parents - they were more than his best friends, they were his family. you've become his family, too.

i believe he acts rude and distant because he knows, deep down, that if he gets close to someone, something terrible will happen to them. he can't handle being responsible for that again, it would absolutely crush him. when he realized he fell in love with you, he cried. so much. he didn't want to hurt you or to get hurt by your rejection/you leaving. just looking at you made his heart ache with memories of the last time.

but you didn't reject him, and you didn't leave. you stayed by his side and showed him it was okay to rely on other people. so if he scoots closer to you or reaches over and feels your arm in the middle of the night - just to make sure you're still there - it's all because he loves you so much he doesn't want to lose you. above all else, losing you would mean losing everything. and i don't think he could handle that.

[puropoly]

Hi!!!

I love your DN art so much, it gives me will to live, it gets me through the day.

I wanna draw like you oh my god you have this storyboard artist kind of style. Effortlessly expressive and dynamic.

Can I worship you? Jk jk (or am I?)

Your A is the best interpretation of this character I have ever seen. I love her.

I have some questions if you have a minute or two 🥺

Can you give me 3 favourite DN fics?

Do you have musical associations for characters (especially B)?

How do you personally feel about L and about Mikami?

What is your favourite food and day of the week?

Please never stop clowning ! 🤡❤️

This is extremely nice of you, thank you !! it's been ages since I've drawn canon DN stuff...

Thank you for the sweet message, I know I still have a long path ahead in terms of improvement as an artist but I value your words immensely as they motivate me to go on now, THE QUESTIONSSss...

Fics I remember killed me on sight

This is how I disappear. (gen) 10/10, work of art, made me sit at the edge of my seat. I recommend everything from this author, definitely DO MIND the tags though! it's dark

If you're into AUs and Lawlight, here's one where Light runs for presidency (Those who stand for nothing fall for anything) and one where he's a cryptid investigator (The forest holds strange creatures), they're both awesome in unique ways. Both are explicit, take that into account

If you're interested in reading different interactions and a very unique twist to the canon events where Naomi is the protagonist, Silent Partner, Unifinished Business is amazing and very suspensey

This one is long, immense, ultra suspensey, with a lot of different characters interacting in interesting ways I never thought before, very lawlight and very explicit, (but I read it all in like 3 days because it caught me BAD and was foaming at the mouth during the entire course of it), also was the founding inspiration to my BB brainrot and design-> Nights

I also made a masterpost of all my favourite meronia (melloxnear) fics back when I was balls deep into it

Finally, my AWESOME friends have made abbie x my BB fics for me back in the days which I treasure with my heart, I feel a bit schoopid sharing them because they're basically my OCs and their story remains a secret but they're beautifully written and. I die. I die everytime I remember they did these for me -> First Christmas (explicit), Stand under my Umbrella (short n funny), Just Another Day (sad and short, based on a comic I did years ago)

ANd also, same author as Silent Partner, wrote Dead Letter Office as a gift to me once, and it melted me into a sugary puddle in the ground

Characters and music

Like every other BB kinnie / stan I have my fair share of associated songs, mostly by style and delusion and very few by actual fitting lyrics lol. But here's what I consider his theme song - and also, I headcanon HARD that he has Danny Elfman's voice

How I feel about L and Mikami

L is special to all of us, love the guy, haven't met a single DN fan who doesn't like L. He's just fun and unapologetic which is what I like about him the most.

Mikami I have a hard time caring about, he's just not my usual type of character at all. He's too rigid for me, although he has his unintentional funny side. I also felt he had no chemistry with any other characters, so that made him less interesting for me

Favourite day and week day

I've been very obsessed with cremonas lately : o]

And my favourite day is saturday now, cause I finally get to have some time for myself to exist!!!!!!!!!!!!! and not work!!!!!!!

[shewhoeatssand]

Why do you like kaneki so much (you can be as insane as you want while answering this)

Honestly I have thought about this a lot for a long time and I don’t really know. One day I saw him for the first time and went “yep this is it this is my new guy” and nothing ever changed. It has been years. And this has never happened to me with anything else. I just saw him and decided I needed to know about him and then he was in my life every day afterwards (going to have a big yap session under the cut)

And I find this kind of crazy, because the kind of person I interpreted him as has changed a lot over the years and I’ve only ever come to like him more? I’ve never been disappointed when finding evidence that changes what I initially thought of him, only more enthused. You know those cringy edits of him saying edgy stuff with the same few shots of him being sad in the anime or artworks of him with his mask on? That was my first impression of him and it was completely different to anything I ever liked before!! And I knew this!!! I wasn’t even allowed to view violent media!!!! And I kept getting more curious about him??????? It was so weird, every time he acted in a way I wouldn’t have found interesting my tastes just changed to accommodate it without me realizing.

I knew something was definitely up when I was well into my Kaneki fixation, but wanted to make my own oc bc I kept seeing other people making them. I wanted them to be as beautiful and intriguing to me specifically as possible. I’d think “what is the most attractive hair colour?” and it’d be white. Then eye colour, face shape, gender, personality etc and then I’d have Kaneki. It was impossible for me to create an oc that I could like more than Kaneki because they’d either become Kaneki or I’d think of ways to “improve” them that just pushed them more towards being like Kaneki. So I gave up and now I have no ocs. I couldn’t even think of any names because I could not think of good names besides Kaneki 😭😭 I missed a crucial phase for creative kids who may have just gotten into anime because I liked my anime guy too much,,,

This stretched into everything. Any media I consumed I’d compare the characters to Kaneki and if none of them had somewhat similar traits to him I’d get bored. If they were vaguely similar, even if it’s just having a funny moral compass and wearing one article of clothing Kaneki might wear, I’d imagine pairing them with Kaneki and start comparing the two further, until I ultimately decide Kaneki is way better and unique and feel guilty for “cheating” on him with this other character (even if it’s just for a few days). A while back I tried to get into other series in the hopes of finding more characters I liked as much as him but this sort of thing made me realize I’m in too deep for any of that. Any music I listened to would have to have at least 1 linking lyric or similar vibes to Kaneki, or I could imagine scenes with Kaneki where he sorta fit the aesthetic of the song (how I listened to Lana Del Rey??). I had a genshin phase a few years back which only lasted so long because I latched onto Xiao bc I found his dedication to protecting Liyue similar to how Kaneki wanted to protect the people close to him while hurting himself. Then I left the game a few months after I got Xiao because there wasn’t much left to do for me. After that I had like no interests besides Kaneki for a long time. There was some fleeting stuff that lasted while I was actively engaging w it, one that stood out was Killing Stalking because it also had a well written violent character with mommy issues, but my level of interest in it was still like comparing Earth to the Sun. I was having violent thoughts around Kaneki all the time and it kinda acted like a balm to it for some reason.

I think I’ve gotten better though? I got into fish either last year or the year before (I genuinely cannot remember a lot of 2023 so it blurs with 2024), it never expanded into me knowing a really impressive amount but at least it was something to talk about. I found an album I related to myself with my experiences w Kaneki. I’ve been into splatoon lately but mostly bc I can play with my friends and guarantee a high success rate. I think it’s important I’m interested in other things, it helps me feel more normal and makes socializing easier.

A few times I started to see him more as a god than a character, and decided he was more important than school or any human relationships. If I couldn’t talk to them about Kaneki then their only use was to help me appear normal so I could engage in my Kaneki stuff without disruption. Sometimes he would be a bit like an actual person in my head, and in order for him to live his life I had to think about him doing it, and not giving him the time would be unfair to him. So I would only do things related to him for fun and if it wasn’t linked to him I’d have a hard time finding a reason to do it, which made school difficult. At some point I started somewhat believing that he would come for me from across the multiverse and together we would find a new world where we both were able to function as perfectly as the people in our current world could and we’d be like the new Adam and Eve for that place. Told a councilor that I was willing to abandon my physical body to achieve this if he asked and she called my parents :///// I came out of it after finishing my assessments and going to Japan and the voice in my head split into 1 mean guy who was cringe and pathetic and 1 beautiful boy named Kaneki who exclusively spoke Japanese and that’s where I’m at now :3 I don’t know why all that happened

Anyway I feel like this hasn’t been answered great 😭😭 tldr for this is that he is basically attached to me at this point… he is my boy and he is never going to leave… my love for him only grows and he trumps everything else I could ever love….. I could not stop liking him if I tried and I have. I lasted 2 days. He’s not going away. The line where I end and he starts is blurred. I bring him up to my online friend group almost every day and they haven’t even read TG, they don’t know what I’m talking about. I feel like the point of this ask was for me to analyse his character and explain why this attracts me but it’s more that every time he does anything I go “wowww :DDD amazing” and it is beyond my control I just like everything. I used to look at anti Kaneki posts and then every time they made a valid complaint I’d get more excited about him because omgggg he’s so silly…On a regular basis I try to think of things he’d do that are objectively gross and it just makes me like them. He’s going to get me into feet bc sometimes I remember he has them and it makes me go “aww he has such cute feet”, I’ve already gone through almost every part of his body doing this and I’m running out of them. I thought about how he would have some body hair even if it’s faint and it made me accept my own body hair (to an extent) when I’ve been insecure about it for years. He made me like math briefly because there was a building and I thought “omg sometimes Kaneki is in a building!!”. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to have a romantic relationship bc it won’t feel real unless they beat Kaneki, and if they do I’m genuinely terrified of the person I’d become about it. And to this day I don’t know why any of this started. I wish I could say we are soulmates but I don’t think he’d like being obsessed over to this degree, maybe he’d like it if it’s only a little but he’d probably find my level of obsession to be a nuisance and that crushes me (at least until I remember he’s not a good person either and might deserve to be uncomfortable). There’s days where I ache horribly because I miss him and he’ll never be there. I’m sorry I can’t give a straightforward answer besides “saw him once and it escalated from there until I couldn’t have anything else”, but that is kind of what happened. It’s both a blessing and a curse, since he gives me so much joy, but weird ass unexplainable mental stuff as well. Hope this helps 👍 please no one block me for being weird or not having a good reason

[sansloii]

you know, I made a big thing about Evan sabotaging his relationships ( for good reason ) but I've been stuck on this song by mikah's vc for a solid couple months and I'm just like "sounds nice but has nothing to do with mikah really" but the more I think about it, the more I come to the conclusion that mikah kinda does the same thing. Not with everyone. Just with Evan atm.

like it's not the whole song that makes me think that. Just the lyrics "it took a while for me to realize I've been the only one to receive love. I've been spoiled..." Just... gave me a little pause. The literal translation from the song is also "By constantly accepting your love, I’ve been spoiled before I know it"

i am in no way invalidating mikah and evan's friendship or like... however deep it runs. Or saying like... it cannot exist without them wanting each other romantically. Or Mikah saying that they aren't interested in him like that isn't true and is hiding deeper feelings. Also, i'm aware the song is about a more physical relationship. Let me cook.

They love each other enough to where Evan is eventually okay if he doesn't end up with Mikah and Mikah is just as okay if Evan finds love somewhere else. but it's not... just platonic, you know? Like it's that and like... some sense of devotion, I feel.

That much is clear on Evan's end, because he will express that he does love Mikah very deeply--like deeper than he's ever loved anyone thus far. The "ride or die" dynamic towards them exists because of that dedication to them, their wellbeing, and just... every aspect of what makes them them. And mikah knows that. Didn't ask for it. Doesn't ask him to do that for them. He just does, because he loves them so very dearly.

Mikah's feelings concerning Evan are... complicated. Because oh--they would kill for him. They would die for him however many times they needed to. The only way to effectively make them snap without any build-up is to hurt him... and that's a promise. They check up on him. They call him if he's travelling. They spend time with him when he's in town. They drop everything to help him if he asks, etc. etc. His presence and his company are a constant good influence on them and they can say that they don't quite know where they would be if not for Evan being as close as he is. He knows the ugliest parts of them and elects to stay anyway. A very good and very close friend.

But it's those ugly parts that have Mikah keeping him at arm's length in a way, you know? Because as much as they know he's used to them and all the baggage that comes with them, the reality is that Mikah is afraid of getting him killed--is almost certain that they're going to be responsible for his death in some way foreshadowing. They're close to him but... that closeness is already too close. Their friendship, that devotion, is already too much. They can't change the fact that they're friends... and they're too selfish to let him go completely.

So they settle for this middle ground, where they don't let themselves dwell too much on feelings they may or may not have for him but can still keep him in their life... because they need him.

So Evan actively sabotages by.... being himself. Mikah passively sabotages by keeping him close... but not close enough. For now.

[kuwdora]

January Posting Meme

January 2 - What was the first vid you made? What drew you to vid it, do you still follow the fandom, etc. -@colls

Happy birthday colls!

Vid nostalgia time, thank you for this prompt.

My very first vid - Ameno - 2007. Stargate Atlantis.

I made my first vid in 2007 with iMovie. Stargate Atlantis, an ensemble vid about the Ancients. It’s titled “Ameno” by eRa and has chanty vocals that made me think of the Ancients/Lanteans in the Pegasus Galaxy. We were about… what 3 seasons into SGA at that time? Stargate SG-1 was my first internet fandom and SGA fandom in its heyday was certainly an Experience so I was in deep. I voraciously read all the fic back then, participated in the communities, wrote some crossover SGA/SG1 fic here and there. So once I started playing around with iMovie and got an external hard drive it seemed pretty natural for me to try and make a Stargate Atlantis vid.

Several years prior I remember my friend thelinz had sent me a bunch of SG-1 fanvids on CD-ROM that I became obsessed with. I knew I wanted to make Stargate vids. Of course I just had to go and use a song without discernible lyrics and try to tell a story about the Ancients/Lanteans. A people who were almost always featured subtextually and mostly as their tech being a macguffin of sorts for the protagonists to deal with. In my head a Narrative made a lot more sense while I was making it but I was still left rather unsatisfied by the end. But I am very proud of it—especially as a first vid. It’s very interesting to see how my eye for kinetic movement works with the musicality of the song as my first vid. And how I refined that over the years.

As for still following the fandom? It’s in my bones, it’s always there. So many of my fandom friends and I started there. Sometimes I go back and reread old SGA flashfic entries.

I do follow a few Stargate SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis tags on tumblr which has been an interesting time observing that. Mostly on account of folks remarking on Jack and Daniel’s ages (they are too Old). Or how some people have said that Rodney McKay would have Done Numbers on tumblr if the show was airing now and that people should really watch SGA for him. Which just is, you know. Makes me want to pull out that Aslan meme “I was there” old magics etc, since Rodney McKay Was Everywhere, fanon ran with wild abandon and then some while others did slow laps in their own slash and rare-pair niches. But this is part of growing older in fandom, you were there for that history (and all the various wank, which is what it was called and not Discourse).

Anyway. I was never quite satisfied with Ameno. But I went on to make dozen more vids after it with iMovie until I got a Final Cut Edit license. And I came across a song during a summer job and realized the vibe+lyrics…that song was the Ancient Vid I was trying to make the first time around but didn’t manage. And listening to the song I realized I didn’t have the vidding skills yet to pull it together. Very overwhelmed by the idea. I spent 5 years listening and mentally putting it together in my head while casually rewatching here and there. Which is how I managed to make High Voltage - one of the vids I’m most proud of for narrative, structural and thematic reasons.

High Voltage which someone actually made a Fanlore entry about it!

High Voltage which was selected at Vividcon 2011 for In Depth Vid Review where people spent a good chunk of time discussing it in an in-person group setting. Folks who had never seen Stargate Atlantis or SG-1 or Stargate Universe even said they were very impressed and intrigued with the vid because it looked like nothing they’ve ever seen from Stargate vids before. And those who knew the shows inside and out, who knew the fic, who had meta discussions about it every week, everyone there when another surface-level, shoddily executed storyline rolled out. They saw my vid, too, they saw it and got it. It was really, really incredible experience to get that kind of feedback and realize that so many picked up what I was laying down.

Beatrice Otter wrote a lovely fancake rec for it in 2022 — 11 years after it premiered! A rec I have screencapped and saved in my happy folder to look at when I’m feeling down.

I elaborated a little more about my vidding process and reception of the vid on tumblr

So Ameno is my very first vid that I was VERY proud of but still wanted to go and “do over”/“do again” because it didn’t feel quite right. That foundation and growth lead to High Voltage. :)

I highly recommend anyone who wants to make a fix-it to an old fanwork of theirs to do go ahead and do it and see how it feels. You never know where it might lead.

January Posting Meme - claim a date! Send me any kind of prompt!