#are you trying to hide me from the public?

[okwonyo]

NERVOUS, 或 𓈒𓈒 making them loose it.

SUCC𝑖NCT───────⠀❛ 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄𓈒 ❜

( R𝑒QUESTED ) 𓈒 ⠀𝒾 ⠀⦂ ⠀ 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f ╱ r! 7OO fluff ── non idol au skinship ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ ( 𝑜𝑜𝑒𝑢𝑣𝑟𝑒𝑠 )

지아 ⠀⦂ ⠀dedicated to @jaexiyu my girlfriend 🎀

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

HEESEUNG&princess treatment : the simple action of your hand reaching his cheek, then cupping his jaw in your palm ever gently before, under his hypnotised gaze, running the finger tip of your thumb on the corner of his lips— sends him into a spiral. the tip of his nose gets red and he is unable to say anything, and before he can even do, the raise of your praise stops him in his tracks. warm creeps all over his body when you pat his cheeks lovingly and says, “good boy.”

“oh my god,” he chokes.

JONGSEONG&public display of affection : listen, if there is one thing about your boyfriend is that he loves to touch you. whenever he can, wherever he can. he has a thing for doing it under the public eye— sliding his strong hand on the back of your lower back, to show everyone you are his. when you do it, it is different. you showing him off makes his heart crave you even more. your thumb rubbing his nape, here in front of all your friends, makes a shiver run down all the way to his spine. 

the world already faded away, “it tickles,” he tells you. 

JAEYUN&tucking his hair behind his ear : he has never planned on keeping his long hair for longer than a month. usually, when he finally had the time to book an appointment at the hairdresser, he would cut it again. his hair habits completely changed when you did that for the first time. he admits that his hair was a mess at that time, but he was too busy talking to you to even notice. when your finger tucked a stray harstrand behind his ear, like in the movie, the air inside of his lungs evaporated. he couldn’t even do anything, and you adding ‘keep on going, baby’ didn’t help much.

“o-okay,” he stuttered out.

SUNGHOON&eye contacts : the hottest part about this, he thinks, is that you have no idea of the true power you have on him. he doesn’t think you even realize what is the reason he stutters or stops breathing when you talk. even during the times whereupon you watch him from afar, he stops completely in his tracks— as if you have mind control—you don’t understand. it’s your eyes, he whines all the time to his friends about. your godforsaken eyes boring in his, alluring him like a siren in the ocean, closing his mouth. 

“i—you—we,” he malfunctions, his stomach aches from all the butterflies in it.

SUNOO&pet names : he remembers, there was a time where he would find any sort of petnames given by romantic partners beyond embarrassing. he was never the type to call any one by those and disliked the idea of someone using one on him. he realized later on that it wasn’t disgust but sheer nervousness. because, yes, he admits that he has a weakness that would fall on his knees for you if you dare to call him ‘babe’ one more time. he especially loves when you say it in a whine— when you groan his petnames.

he hides his face in the crook of your neck before giggling, “what?”

JUNGWON&flirting back : as the annoying and teasing boyfriend that he is, making you so flustered that your face burns and that you trip over the words you are trying to get out of your mouth, is his first mission. and he succeeds most of the time, a quick “don’t hesitate to call me if you need a hand taking that off,” while looking down at your dress. but when you retort with an “don’t start something you can’t finish, handsome,” as you slightly quirk your brow— it’s different. 

“bet?” he says after five minutes of silence, but you are already doing something else. 

RIKI&compliments : never in his life he has found praise and compliments embarrassing to get. in the contrary, he loved them a lot. although it is not embarrassing when it comes from you, it’s totally different— and he can’t really pinpoint why. it is just that you have always been something else, you have always known the exact way to make his emo boy act melt in one single word. his heart completely bursts when you cup his face and coo, “isn’t he so cute?”

he holds your wrist, not to get your hands away, however. he chuckles like an highscool girl amd trailing the word, “stop,”

ㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐒 ꕥ MAX VERSTAPPEN

summary. celebrating max’s 4th title was not in your plans.

warnings. piastri!reader, max is kinda obsessed with reader, public s3x (?), unprotected pinv, fingering, just straight up dirty.

gabri speaks! i’ve been thinking about mexico gp max and las vegas sealed the deal for me.

THERE’S A BRIEF moment of silence, of anticipation, and of complete confusion. The DJ had paused the setlist less than an hour in announcing there was a special guest appearance. Then as if on cue tonight’s race is plastered on the giant screen behind him and the words, “Max Verstappen,” echo throughout the nightclub. You resist the urge to roll your eyes knowing someone might be recording you, or your brother at least.

“I thought he was flying back?” You cover your mouth with your hand as you talk with your brother.

“I thought so too.” Your brother hums in your ear trying to hide his annoyed tone. Your brother got along with Max just fine but all he wanted was one night without F1 getting mentioned.

You on the other hand…

You’d only been in the paddock a handful of times but every race weekend you had managed to have the worst encounter with the dutch man. The first time had been incidentally, you faintly recall the energy drink splashing all over your new dress. You knew from the get go that it had been an accident but when Max didn’t as so much as a muster a quick sorry and instead went on his way you had no choice but to hate him.

“He’s such a dick.” You murmur to yourself unaware your brother catches your words.

“Be nice.” Oscar motions towards the countless people recording him.

“I’m gonna get another drink.” You sigh.

The music resumes and you find yourself into a crowd of dancing couples. Your short orange dress sticks to you as you walk towards the bar. It’d been a long night with your brother not getting the result he hoped for. The post race recap inside the garage had been brutal as well. You had watched as the championship slipped from Lando’s hands and Max claimed victory once again. It had been the worst two hours of your life to say the least. You’re way too frustrated to even notice the man approaching you. In a split second you’re covered in something that smelled similar to…

“Asshole.” You mumble.

“Mini Piastri?” He gasps dramatically. “Why are you here? I wouldn’t think you’d be celebrating after tonight.”

“Well, the world doesn’t revolve around you.” You scoff. “Does it Max?”

“I’d argue that it does actually. Considering your mood, you’d be happier if your little boyfriend had actually managed to have a good race.” He taunts you.

“Look, can you get out of my way? I have to go clean up the mess you made.” You point towards the huge spots of alcohol on your dress.

You don’t even wait for him to respond before pushing past him, brushing shoulders in the process, to head straight to the bathroom. You do your best to dodge those who already have had a bit too much to drink, unaware that the dutchman is right behind you. It’s not until you’re opening the door and notice it takes a minute too long to close that you turn around and spot him. His white dress shirt is already half unbuttoned while his hair is a mess. You stare at him incredulously as he leaned against the sink.

“Max, you can’t be in here.” You state bluntly.

“I don’t recall you telling Lando to piss off when he followed you into the bathroom in Austin.” He counters.

“How do- What?” You’re taken aback by his words. How did he know?

He ignores your question choosing to walk towards you instead. You’re now face to face with the man that had taken away your team’s championship. His eye bags are dark and you can tell it’s been a while since he’s gotten a good needed break. His tousled hair falls perfectly on his head and by the way his arms flex you can tell he’s been putting extra effort into them at the gym. All of a sudden you’re nervous to be under his glare.

“Does your brother know what you and Lando do in secret?” He questions.

“You should leave.” You try to sound confident but your faltering voice exposes you.

Max just smirks at your words knowing he was getting under your skin. He still recalls the first time he ran into you, when he spilled half a can of red bull on you. He doesn’t know why he didn’t apologize but when he saw the anger in your face he realized why. You had looked so beautiful that day with the short orange sundress that did nothing to hide your cleavage. He still remembers the disappointment he felt when he saw you and Lando walk out of the restroom all disheveled. So, when he beat Lando tonight he felt absolutely no remorse.

His lips ghost yours for what feels like an eternity. You’re frozen in place wondering how his lips would taste against yours. Maybe it was the alcohol or the way his arms flex around you but suddenly you needed to know what he felt like. His arm tentatively grazes yours as it sneaks down to your knees. A gasp finds itself leaving your lips as your legs spread open instinctively. He wants to make fun of you, of the way you melt under him so easily, but he knows better. He can’t risk ruining the moment. It’s when Max inches his fingers closer to your thighs that you suddenly realize what’s happening. In a matter of seconds you push him off you and head out the door.

You’re barely four steps out when Max yanks you back and you hit his built chest. This time he doesn’t hesitate and grabs your jaw pulling your face towards his. Your lips meet in a heated kiss as his arms find their way around your waist. This time you’re the one that moves his hands from your wait to your ass. The confidence was beginning to build up and soon enough you’re tugging on his hair as his tongue enters your mouth.

“Max…” You moan and somehow it becomes the indicator that you want this. That you want him.

He pushes you flat against the cold brick of the hallway, the dimmed lights helping hide your bodies from the crowd. You’re lucky he holds you up because your legs feel like jello and if he lets go you might lose your balance. His hands roam your waist, back, and neck before he moves your hair out of the way. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses around your neck as his hands work their way down to your legs. They slowly glide up until he’s playing with the hem of your short dress. You can already feel his growing erection press against your ass.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He groans against your ear.

You really want to tell him to fuck off but your body reacts differently. You’re shocked when instead of telling him to call it a night all you murmur is keep going. In a matter of seconds your dress is being pulled up towards your waist. You can’t help the whine that escapes your lips as he rubs your aching core through your panties.

“So wet already.” He groans. “For me or Lando?”

“Shut up.” You still find it in you to annoy him.

To your surprise he doesn’t hit you with another remark. Max had been an asshole to you long enough. Now, that you were in front of him practically falling apart he didn’t want to ruin the moment. There’s a brief moment of silence before his hand carefully moves your panties to the side exposing your core to the cool breeze. Your legs spread instinctively as his fingers tempt your folds. His fingers collect your slick as he explores you, the wet sound making him groan against you. Slowly, he brings one of his fingers to your hole entering it carefully.

“Fuck.” He moans against your ear as your cunt wraps tightly around his finger.

“Ma- Max. So close.” You’re barely able to say.

You let out a loud whine as he curls his finger inside of you leading to your climax. You come around his fingers as you coat them with your wetness. His fingers slowly move toward your mouth and you don’t hesitate as you take them into your mouth, tasting yourself. He almost comes undone as you lick his fingers seductively. Aggressively he grabs your jaw and kisses you. He groans as he tastes you.

You feel the tip of him first as he runs it up and down your folds teasing you. Your hands are weak against the wall as his tip approaches your aching hole. He enters you slowly, holding you tightly in the process. He stops halfway through not wanting to hurt you but when he hears your dirty moans he continues. Your nails dig tightly into his arms as he fills you up completely. He’s quite big and the new sensation has you spiraling trying your best to not fall against him. He takes advantage of your weakness and attacks your neck again making sure to leave love bites around your collarbone.

“Fuck, Max. You’re so big.” You whine without thinking.

You feel his dick twitch inside you at that. Your voice has him in a trance as he tries his best to not just start thrusting inside of you. It’s not until you start pushing your ass against him that he almost pulls out fully before thrusting back into you. His hands grip your ass tightly—surely leaving marks for tomorrow—as your cunt squeezes him. He’s never felt such a thrill, at least since Abu Dhabi, you were your own feeling. He couldn’t believe you had finally opened up to him in many ways you were way better than winning another trophy. Many curses escape your lips as he finds the perfect pace inside of you.

He manages to bend you over leading to the perfect position and somehow he’s even deeper inside of you. He grips your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he speeds up inside of you. His hand trails back to your cunt and slowly he starts playing with your folds. The feeling of his cock inside of you and fingers rubbing your folds is intense and you find a camisole feeling in your stomach approach you. You squeeze him tightly as his dick hits the right spot and you find yourself coming undone. You’ve never had an orgasm so intense in your life you don’t even notice how you coat his dick with your wetness.

Max isn’t far behind and speeds up at the feeling of your cunt squeezing him tightly. Your nails dig behind you at the overstimulation and stretch of his cock. Max hisses at the sensation finding it the tipping point. It’s not long before you feel his dick twitch inside of you and in a matter of seconds you feel him spill his seed inside of you. He grunts as he empties himself and as he pulls out. He pulls you up adjusting your dress in the process.

You bite your lip as he zips up his pants. The aftermath of your little rendezvous is different. Usually with others you don’t stay long enough to watch them dress themselves. But then you notice Max struggling with the buttons on his dress shirt and you find your hands on his chest again. You only button half of the shirt before stepping back. Neither of you say a word but the silence manages to speak for you both. You decide it’s time to go back but before you can take a step Max pulls you in for a final kiss before he leaves.

You’re barely able to walk back towards the VIP lounge and stumble multiple times in the process. You try your best to brush your hair down and fix your dress as you come closer to your brother’s booth. You sit down carefully unaware your brother is staring at you wide eyed and wondering why it took you almost an hour to get a drink. You shift awkwardly in your seat as Lily begins telling you both about her mixup at the airport. You turn around briefly as she goes into detail when you notice Max walking past your table. You keep your composure not wanting to expose your actions of the night but you should’ve known better. Oscar almost bursts out laughing at Max’s completely unbuttoned shirt.

“Lando’s gonna be pissed.” Your brother smirks.

“How do-” Did everyone know? “Oh, fuck off.”

The night progresses with your brother ordering countless bottles of Dom Pérignon. It’s almost five in the morning when Max takes the stage again with the DJ playing a remix of Super Max. As if on cue someone hands him a bottle of champagne and it doesn’t take long for him to start spraying it amongst those on the dance floor. You watch attentively as his chest shows the marks you left completely unaware of how your phone buzzes for the hundredth time that night.

9 missed calls from Lan

Lan: Tonight was shit.

Lan: Come over?

[avelera]

Parallels between Jayvik and the Phantom of the Opera

I can't believe I haven't seen any discussion yet around the musical theater influences in Arcane S2 so far (besides my one mention of its parallels with Les Miserables).

So as a basic, Phantom of the Opera-loving bitch, can we please take a moment to examine the Phantom of the Opera parallels that are literally shoved in our faces during this opening sequence and what that means for Jayvik?

Viktor is the Phantom. The show opening outright says it. The parallels are there. They're impossible to miss.

And then, when you dig a little deeper, hooo boy those parallels become even more stark. Especially if you read Viktor as romantically pining after Jayce, which 99.9999% of humanity does.

To quickly summarize, Phantom of the Opera is the story of a deformed genius who falls in love with an opera singer, Christine, and then nurtures her talents, only for her to in turn fall in love with a nobleman, Raoul. The ensuing love triangle is the heart of the plot, with Raoul and the Phantom both vying for Christine's love.

This shouldn't be a hard one to see the parallels for.

Viktor = The Phantom. Literally a genius born with a disfigurement, in this case a disability he sees as a weakness and a disease that is sapping away his life and hope of a legacy. He is riddled with jealousy for the person trying to pull his scientific/musical partner away from him, a person who happens to be beautiful and live a life of privilege that Raoul/Mel could offer to Jayce/Christine instead.

Jayce = Christine. Instead of sharing genius in music, he and Viktor share genius in science. Like Christine, he is tugged between the glittering world of politics and privilege, vs his genius and love at a more esoteric skill, in this case science instead of music.

Mel = Raoul. Literally an aristocrat who is far more beautiful than the Phantom/Viktor, who steals away his partner's attention and offers them a glittering life of privilege in the public eye instead of the wonders of their joint musical/scientific pursuits. Whether or not Mel meant to embody this, or steal Jayce from Viktor, this is the role she fulfills in Viktor's view of the world.

But the most profound moment for me of, "Oh wow, they're doing Phantom of the Opera! Actually, they're not just doing Phantom, they're doing Phantom fixit fic?!" was this:

Which, if you'll forgive the potato quality of the screenshots, is literally the moment Viktor has his mask knocked away and then cringes in on himself to hide his exposed face from Jayce.

Which... is literally a scene in Phantom of the Opera? Just after "Music of the Night"?

But we're already in Phantom fixit territory, because Jayce doesn't recoil like Viktor expects! Instead, he embraces Viktor and loves him for all his self-perceived flaws.

And then, AND THEN, in a moment that made my Phantom-loving heart sing, Viktor tells Jayce to go!

And Jayce doesn't.

In the final song of the Phantom of the Opera musical, Christine is forced to choose between Raoul and the Phantom. She chooses the Phantom and kisses him. Flooded by remorse, the Phantom then relinquishes her to the man he knows she truly loves, and when Christine hesitates to leave, he shouts at her, "Go!" and then, of course, she and Raoul leave together.

Viktor is expecting that to happen! I think his order to Jayce very clearly implies that he thinks Mel and Jayce are still together. It's the classic, "Go be with the woman you love instead of staying here and dying with me," trope that we see over and over again in dramas.

But Jayce. Defies. The Trope.

Unlike Christine and just about every buddy war movie out there, he stays with Viktor. He chooses his scientific/artistic partner over the life of aristocracy and privilege that Mel would theoretically offer him. He chooses the masked genius with the disability and calls him perfect. He refuses to go when he is ordered to leave. He stays with Viktor until the end.

And I still can't believe that no one else is talking about this!

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 21

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18 || PART 19 || PART 20

Chrissy’s in Steve’s bed, sprawled out on her stomach, trying to plow through her homework when Steve says, “I need your help.”

Her heart’s in her throat as she whips her head toward him, already halfway through jumping up off the bed, ready to bury whatever body he needs burying.

But, he’s not even looking at her; he’s restlessly tearing a blank piece of paper into tiny little pieces, and his ears are a familiar, damning red. He’s not worried, he’s embarrassed.

“Jeez, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” Chrissy sighs, flopping back down onto the bed. She’s gotten far too used to all of Steve’s problems being life or death, and whatever this is, she can tell it’s not that.

“Sorry,” Steve mutters.

She just waves her hand and flips her notes and textbook closed, ready to think about something, anything else. “What is it, boy troubles?” she asks, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously, only to drop all pretenses when Steve ducks his head like a turtle hiding within its shell. “Already?”

“It’s not a problem, Chris, god,” he sighs, running his hand anxiously through his hair. “I just thought—nevermind, it’s stupid.”

And then he just, picks his homework back up, as if Chrissy would ever let him get away with that. “Steve Harrington,” she snaps, only feeling marginally bad when he snaps his head back up. “Nothing about you is stupid.”

He’s still turtling into himself, but he nods dutifully, so she continues. “Now, tell me what you were going to say.”

He groans, flopping down on the bed to stare up at his white ceiling, barely blinking. She follows his lead, collapsing bonelessly next to him and rolling atop all their coursework until she’s nestled into his side, both of them giggling.

He wraps his arm around her shoulder, and finally begins to speak. “I have  a date with Eddie tomorrow, right?” he says, looking down at her for confirmation. She nods, even though he’d never given her a specific date. “And I wanted you to help me, like, plan it?”

She blinks, nonplussed as the blush on his cheeks disperses across his cheeks. She rolls over, elbow planted on his chest so she can use it to prop her chin up and peer down at him. “You need help planning a date?” she asks, voice incredulous.

He groans, reaching up to hide his face from her view, but she grabs his wrists and yanks them back down. He pouts up at her while she watches on, unamused.

“Most of my usual date plans are like, public? We can’t exactly just show up at Benny’s and share a milkshake, you know?” Chrissy grimaces, not having thought of that, but before she can apologize, he continues talking. “And besides…”

He trails off, eyes darting back and forth between her eyes as his blush travels down his neck and up the bridge of his nose.

“Besides?” she prompts, voice soft.

“We started this whole thing together, right?” he asks, looking earnestly up at her. “It wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t finish it together.”

Chrissy’s shriveled heart grows three sizes and bursts with such a ferocious love that she collapses onto him without warning, arms wrapping around him and squeezing tight enough that he groans.

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” she says, ignoring all his pleas for her to loosen her hold. “I’m so glad you looked pathetic enough that day for me to come ask if you needed help.”

“I didn’t look that pathetic,” he grumbles, finally succeeding in tossing her off of him, sending her careening off the bed and onto the lush carpet of his bedroom floor.

He peers over the side of the bed, looking worried, so she smiles up at him until he reaches down and helps her back up.

“You looked like a wet puppy someone had tossed in a river,” she replies, bulldozing through his continued complaints to ask, “now, what were you thinking?”

In the end, it’s a fairly typical date set-up, but instead of dinner at a nice restaurant, it’s in Steve’s home. They lay a checkered table cloth across the Harrington’s breakfast nook, make sure he has all the ingredients for burgers and fries, and then set about attempting to make milkshakes once Steve reveals he’s never made them before.

Their first attempt splatters chocolate ice cream and milk all over the ceiling. Their second results in a water concoction that, while edible, is less than pleasant.

The third is thick, barely able to be sucked through one of the straw’s Steve had stolen from Benny’s. It’s perfect.

“Can you dump Eddie so I can go on the date instead?” she asks, barely pausing in her pursuit of sucking the shake through her straw.

Steve laughs and replies, “Or, I can just make you one whenever you want,” he says, nudging the shake closer to her, leaving his own straw inside.

She beams, and drinks the entire thing.

Steve accosts her before lunch the day of, telling Jeff, “can you tell everyone we’ll be missing lunch? Thanks,” before dragging her away.

“I thought we were done with this,” she says, settling into the seat across from him as he pulls out a familiar notebook she hasn’t even glimpsed for weeks.

He opens it, but doesn’t turn to the back of the notebook where all his rough draft secret admirer letters lay. Instead, he pulls a light blue envelope from the front and hands it over to her.

She stares down at Eddie’s name in Steve’s messy scrawl, clearly written carefully to keep it legible.

“Steve?” she asks, ghosting her fingers over the letters before looking up into his anxious face.

“It’s just—I liked writing the letters, so I wanted to give him one on our date, so,” he breaks their gazes to look down at the envelope, biting his lip. “I already wrote it, but it wouldn’t feel right if you didn’t read it first.”

Steve Harrington, Chrissy thinks, eyes welling with all the fondness her body’s too small to contain. “Okay,” she sniffs, smiling down at the letter as she carefully slides her finger under the envelope’s flap and pulls it free.

It unfolds into the letter itself, Steve having clearly reverse-engineered it from all the times Eddie had done the same. Only then does she realize that at some point, he must have stolen a page from her planner because that’s the same as the first time, too.

She raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t say anything, just hunches back over the letter and begins to read.

   Eddie —

   I know we don’t have to do this anymore, but I miss it. Isn’t that the strangest thing? I’m happy talking to you face to face, holding your hand beneath the table, pressing my lips against yours, but I miss reading your words, and I miss writing my own.

   So, here I am, writing you the day before our second date, so nervous and excited I might just throw up. Because we can do it now, you know? We can do all the things we’ve talked about (and more). I’m excited to do them with you.    

   If the date goes well, I want you to put this under your pillow, hold my face in your mind, and dream of me.

   Hopefully Yours, Hopefully Always,

   Steve

   P.S. I know you can just put them in my locker now, but maybe put this one in The Return of the King? Just this once, for me?

“How is it?” Steve asks when she’s been staring down at the words on the page for probably too long. “Is it okay?”

“It’s perfect,” she says, grinning when his entire face lights up like a Christmas tree. “And so are you.”

***

“They’re not coming to lunch,” Jeff says as he settles onto the bench at their usual table, a slab of lasagna already somehow congealing on his tray.

“Are they okay?” Eddie asks, dropping his own fork to try to glean any worry on Jeff’s own face.

“Steve was definitely excited when he dragged Chrissy off,” Jeff replies, shrugging. Before Eddie can even spit out his follow-up question, Jeff continues, “no idea what they’re doing, though,” and he closes his mouth.

“I know,” Robin calls from down the table, voice all sing-songy and sly.

Eddie turns to glare at her, but she just keeps grinning around her sandwich, Vickie looking equally lost at her side.

“Are you going to enlighten the rest of the class,” Eddie asks, gesturing to the rest of the table despite clearly being the only one who gives a shit.

Robin grins wider and replies, “it’s a secret,” tauntingly like she knows somehow that word is his ultimate trigger.

Eddie whines, but no one pays him any mind. Even more cruelly, he doesn’t see Steve for the rest of the school day, leaving him flushed and flustered as he rushes home to get ready for their date. 

Unfortunately, it’s Wayne’s day off, so he’s there to heckle Eddie as he changes his outfit enough times to leave his hair a frizzy mop on the top of his head.

“You dressin’ for a date or to be the janitor’s new mop?” Wayne asks, laughing as Eddie rushes past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind himself.

Unfortunately, Wayne’s right, so Eddie runs a damp brush through his hair, trying to make the frizziness merge back with the rest of his hair. When it doesn’t really work, Eddie folds his hair into a bun and elects not to look at himself in the mirror again.

With ten minutes to spare, Eddie moves his frantic pacing for the living room, walking back and forth in front of Wayne, fingers gyrating as he tries to keep them from further ruining his hair.

“You really wearing that?” Wayne asks, long since having given up on trying to watch the TV, Eddie’s body too much of a moving obstacle to crane his neck around.

Eddie stops and stares down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with this?”

It’s a more put together version of his usual style: his only pair of black jeans that haven’t gotten any holes yet, clunky boots, still adequately polished from his last date with Steve, a plain black t-shirt, fingers full of rings except the one he keeps bare, the ring still on Steve’s own finger.

“You know what I mean, boy,” Wayne sighs, looking him up and down with so much judgment that Eddie wants to shrivel up and die. “Ain’t the jacket a bit much?”

Eddie fondles the green and white cuff of the jacket’s sleeve. He does a little spin, like a dog chasing its own tail, trying to get a look at the way it hangs on his frame.

Wayne’s right—it looks almost incongruous on him, clashing absurdly with the rest of his outfit, but it’s got Steve’s name on its back, and a small, shivery part of Eddie likes that. Jock courting rituals are absurd, but there’s maybe something to this one.

Maybe Steve will like it, too—his name on Eddie’s back.

“Is it too much?” Eddie asks, voice taking on that higher pitch that only dogs can hear. He turns to Wayne, panicky and desperate. “Do you think it’s coming on too strong?”

Wayne’s mouth twists up all sardonic and wry as he snorts and replies, “that boy’s been writing you love notes for months. There ain’t no such thing as too strong, for a thing like that.”

Eddie feels his cheeks warm. He breaks eye contact, looking down the floor as he scuffs the toe of his boot against the carpet bashfully.

Before he can voice any of the self-conscious bullshit kicking around in his head, there’s a knock at the door. Eddie snaps his head up and freezes, staring with mounting hysteria at the closed front door until there’s a second knock and he snaps back to life.

“Oh my god, places everybody!” Eddie cries, clutching at his head in panic, undoing all the work he’d done on his hair in one fell swoop.

“I ain’t moving,” Wayne says from the chair.

Eddie rushes past him, skidding to a halt in front of the door. He wastes precious seconds taking a few deep breaths before he swings the door open, fake smile plastered on his face. It melts into something excited and real when he catches sight of Steve.

Steve, who’s wearing the leather jacket Chrissy still hasn't returned. Steve, who’s fiddling with the lapels and blushing self-consciously until he catches sight of Eddie’s own attire and bursts out laughing.

“Great minds think alike, huh Harrington?” Eddie asks, smiling down at him.

While on Eddie, the aesthetic mismatch looks bizarre, Steve’s light-wash jeans and green polo somehow only enhance the effect of Eddie’s oversized leather jacket.

“It’s The Return of the King,” Eddie says, looking up and down Steve’s body, smirking before catching sight of his befuddled face. “We’ve really gotta get you up to date on Tolkien.”

“Oh, the hobbit books?” Steve asks, smiling brightly. “I just started the first one. Bilbo’s a pretty cool dude.”

Eddie takes a shuddering breath, heart kicking up a notch. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool,” Eddie replies in a hushed tone. Steve Harrington is reading The Hobbit. This fact somehow has him feeling more faint than seeing him in Eddie’s own jacket. He clears his throat, face hot, heartbeat rapid. “Should—should we go?”

His voice squeaks awkwardly, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice. He just beams up at Eddie and takes two graceful steps back off the front stoop, holding his arm out to gesture Eddie over the threshold of his own trailer.

Eddie slams the door, muffling Wayne’s embarrassing call of, “have him home by ten!” just in time.

He skips down the steps and latches onto Steve’s held out arm, letting Steve lead him toward his car like a gentleman.

“You know, I think Chrissy and Jeff had some sort of weird sex thing with this jacket?” Eddie asks, shaking his arm demonstratively.

“Yeah, Chrissy told me.”

"Seriously?" Eddie squawks, stopping suddenly enough that he kicks up gravel beneath his boots.

"No, you idiot,” Steve says, laughing at him even as he stops beside him, still holding onto Eddie’s arm.

“Oh, good because—”

“Jeff did.”

Eddie sputters, eyes wide until he turns and sees Steve’s shit-stirring grin. “You’re the worst,” he says, pouting as Steve just starts laughing again. “Why do I even like you?”

That has Steve’s ears turning pink, and his eyes averting to look toward his car, seeming almost shy. “Well,” he starts before cutting himself off when his voice comes out strangely high. He clears his throat and continues, “shall we?”

Steve gestures toward his parked car with his free hand because return of The King or not, this guy’s somehow, inexplicably, a nerd.

Eddie wants to kiss him about it, but they’re in public, already toeing the line of what’s acceptable in polite society, so all he does is squeeze Steve’s arm where it’s still wrapped around his and reply, “we shall.”

There will be time for kisses later—time for all of the things Eddie’s finding he wants to do with Steve Harrington.

They’ve got nothing but time.

The End

If you've read this far, thank you so much! Especially if you've like, reblogged, or commented. It all means so much to me, and I appreciate every single one of you.

This could have gone on for another 50k, I'm sure, but this feels like the right ending to me. It's not a story about Being Together, it's a story about Finding Each Other, and they've both done that, with Chrissy, and Robin, and Jeff, and now with each other <3<3<3

Now, one final shoutout to @queenie-ofthe-void for both being the best beta a guy can ask for, and to be the one who came up with this idea at all. It literally couldn't exist without you, and I appreciate you so much <3<3<3

[mattsnight]

Summary: in which Chris can’t hide his feelings for Y/N any longer.

Warnings: cursing !!

WC: 5k+++

Chris hated how he felt for you. The extreme feelings were overwhelming and it was hard keeping them together. He couldn’t live like this. He couldn’t live knowing you were his best friend and that nothing would ever happen with the two of you.

You were always the clingy kind of type. You couldn’t be alone for more than 24 hours and always had to be with someone who you loved. Most of the times it was Chris, which he didn’t mind at first, but when his feelings for you started, it all became a lot.

You came over to the triplets’ house today, since Chris hasn’t been answering your calls. You were really worried about him. When you walked into the house you were met with an angry Chris. He didn’t want you here at all. He didn’t want to talk. It hurt him to do this shit to you, but he needed these feelings gone. And there it was, he was bottling up all his feelings and is now taking it out on you.

“Jesus what the fuck is wrong with you?” You say to Chris as he just ignored you when you tried giving him a simple hug. He never did this, he would always hug you even when he was annoyed. He lets out a huff, rubbing his eyes as he glances in your direction.

"Me? Nothing is wrong with me, I'm absolutely fine. It's you, you're just always around being clingy, I can't even breathe without you being all over me. Seriously, do you have to be so clingy? Give me a break every once in a while," Chris bites back with a roll of his eyes. A small gasp leaves your mouth at his sudden anger. “What the hell happened to you, chris? At first you’re all nice and sweet to me and now you’re acting like a huge dick.”

Chris grits his teeth, turning to look you in the eyes a lot sharper than usual. "So now it's wrong that I've decided to give myself a break from your clinginess? Is that a crime now?" He quips, raising a brow at you unimpressed. "God, you're always so needy, you can't even go half a day without wanting my attention. Have you ever considered that maybe I'd want alone time?”

“I was giving you one hug, chris. I wasn’t sat on your lap touching your chest while waiting for you to fuck me!” You yell back, anger now running through your body. Chris is visibly taken aback by your words, the harsh bite of them makes his chest ache, but he can't focus on that right now. He lets out an annoyed huff, running his fingers through his hair and sighing. "You always hug me!" He points out, throwing his arms out. "Like, it's never just one hug, you're always all over me, no matter if we're alone or in public. It's like you can't stand the thought of not being attached to me or something!"

“Im not always hugging you! I was so excited to see you, is one hug that bad?” You say, running your hands through your hair. "And there it is again, the excuses!" Chris exclaims in annoyance. "You're always all over me, you've gotta touch me. You know I'm not the biggest fan of physical touch, so why are you always so clingy with me, huh, can you answer that?" He asks, raising a brow at you with an expectant expression on his face.

“Because we’re friends? Cus i enjoy being with you? Because maybe im trying to get our friendship back!” Yeah, that one hurt. It had been a while since you and Chris had hung out. At first you thought it was because he got a girlfriend, but he didn’t, Nick told you that.

"And you need to cling to me to do that? You need to be attached to me at all times to do that, is that it?" Chris asks, clearly still frustrated and a little on edge. "It's annoying. I'm allowed to want my own goddamn space every once in a while, why's that so hard for you to understand? I just want a little space to breathe, alone, without having you sticking yourself to me like glue."

Fuck, why did it have to go like this? You hated this and you knew he did too. There was hurt smashed on both of your faces, but the both of you didn’t stop. “Then tell me to shut up, leave and never come back!” You say, a voice crack slipping through. Chris's eyes widen slightly, his mouth going slightly agape at your words, his heart beating loud in his chest. He did not see that coming. "What?" He asks, a hint of surprise sneaking into his voice. “Tell me to leave, end our friendship and do whatever the fuck you want without me.” You repeat with a voice crack.

Chris's jaw clenches, his chest feels tight and his stomach sinks at your words. Every fibre of his being wanted to scream at you to shut up, to stay with him forever. He did not want you gone, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to tell you. "I don't want-" he tries to protest, swallowing hard and averting his gaze. "I don't want that."

“Then what do you want, Chris?!”

"You!" His eyes widen the moment the word escapes his mouth, he didn't mean to say that, he meant to say anything other than that. He clamps his mouth shut, staring at you with a mix of shock and frustration. “What?” You say quietly, not believing that you heard him right.

"I- nothing, I... nothing, forget I said that," he runs his fingers through his hair, cursing himself inwardly. This did not get better. "I just... I think, maybe, we should just have some time apart for a while. Take some space, I'll be fine without you glued to my side, you'll be fine without me around all the time." His voice stays the same, not even a slight change.

“You said me.. chris.. what does that mean?”

"I said nothing, alright?" Chris snaps, trying to cover up his slip of the tongue, but it was too late. He couldn't lie his way out of this now. He lets out a huff, scrubbing his face with his hand, looking at you with a frustrated expression on his face. "Damnit... you weren't supposed to hear that."

You take a small step back at his snap. It wasn’t because you were scared, you wanted to give him space. His expression softens just the slightest as he sees you take a step back, his heart panging in his chest as he registers the hurt in your eyes. He shakes his head in defeat. "No, I... Damnit, I can't... Look, I can't do this right now." He runs a hand through his hair again, turning his back to you and walking a few moments. Clearly he was frustrated and upset about the whole situation. “Chris—“ you try, but he doesn’t want to talk.

"Just don’t." He bites, his voice low as he keeps his back turned to you. He clearly wasn't in the mood to keep the conversation going. He was upset, and in pain, and he knew he was hurting you as well. He didn't want to hurt you, but he knew he was, and that was so much worse in his mind. “Please just talk to me, Chris. I want to understand what is going on.”

"What is there to talk about, huh?" Chris turns to look at you again, eyes sharp and his muscles coiled tight with tension. "What are we supposed to talk about? I said something I wasn't supposed to, I can't take it back, so what do you want me to say? I don't want to talk about it, not like this, not right now."

He is still staring at you, his expression pained and frustrated. It was like he was trying to hold back so many things, trying desperately to keep them all at bay and yet they were so obvious on his face. "And what was that little stunt anyway, huh? Trying to get a reaction out of me, is that it? Well great, you got one. You did what you set out to do, I screwed up. I said something I shouldn't have said. Happy?"

Your eyes start filling up with pain. It wasn’t your intention to do this. You didn’t mean any of it, you just wanted a reason why you’re losing your best friend. Chris's heart clenches within his chest at the sight of your hurt expression. The sharp pang of guilt and regret hits him hard, but it doesn't stop him from continuing. "You wanted a reaction, and you got it. I'm human. Do you think you can just prod and poke at me all the time and I won't snap back?" He bites, narrowing his eyes at you despite the panging in his heart. “Im sorry, okay?…” you say.

"You're sorry, is that it? You're sorry?” Chris snaps, taking a step closer as he towers over you. His face is a mixture of anger and pain, despite the growing guilt at the expression on your face. “You're sorry? Great, that just fixes everything, doesn't it? You didn't mean to make me snap, didn't mean to prod and poke at me until I exploded, but that's fine because you're sorry now, right?" All his anger is aimed at you when you just tried to fix something broken. You don’t dare to speak, scared you’ll ruin it even more.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I thought," he continues, his voice still sharp and bitter. "You can apologise all you want but it's not gonna change the fact that you got exactly what you wanted out of me. You pushed me to the limit, and you got a reaction. So don't bother apologising, it's too late for that." He says, letting out a frustrated huff while scrubbing his face with his hand as anger and guilt clash together in his mind. He wants to yell at you, wants to scream at you and let it all out, but at the same time the sight of your hurt expression is killing him. "Goddamnit.." he mutters under his breath, running his fingers roughly through his hair.

“I should go home.. this isn’t gonna work.” You finally say, breaking the silence. "Yeah... maybe you should," Chris responds, but the moment the words escape his mouth he wishes he could take them back. His heart is panging against his chest, his stomach clenches with guilt at the idea of you leaving. He didn't want you to go anywhere, he wanted to talk to you, he wanted you to not look so hurt and upset, but he'd gone and made it all worse in his anger.

You grab your bag quickly after his respond, ready to leave. Chris can’t take this anymore, he needs to make this right. He needs to talk to you. His heart drops to his stomach as you reach for your bag, the reality of the situation hitting him hard as he watches you get ready to leave. "Just... just wait," he says suddenly, the words slipping out before he can even think about it. "Please don't go. I... shit.”

He falters, his breath catching as he tries to find the right words. "I... look, just... just sit down, alright?" He asks, his voice suddenly much softer and more vulnerable than before. He wanted you to stay. He couldn't stand the thought of you leaving right now, he needed you to stay. He swallows hard, forcing out the next words as his heart pounds in his chest. "Please just... just sit down. We need to talk, not like this. Just... just sit down and listen to me. Please."

“Why does this all have to be so difficult?” You ask, sitting down on the couch to listen to him. "I don't know!" Chris exclaims, frustration and annoyance rising in his voice again. Why does it have to be so difficult? He should've just kept his mouth shut in the first place, he'd made a huge mess and he knew it. "I don't know why it has to be so... so difficult." He repeats, softer this time. "I don't... I just don't know." He scrubs his face with his hand, gritting his teeth and taking a deep, calming breath.

“What happened between us?” You ask, wanting answers. Chris's heart pang's in his chest again at your question. A million answers could've come to his mind, but he couldn't get the words out of his mouth. Instead, he clenches his jaw, sighing deeply and shaking his head. "I don't know," he repeats again, his frustration growing. "I... I don't know, things just... changed."

He runs his fingers through his hair, raking his brain for the right words to say, the right way to explain things without saying too much. "I can't explain it. Things just... look, it's just so complicated." He glances at you, his expression a mixture of pain and confusion. He looks away again quickly, sighing heavily and shaking his head. "Things just aren't how they used to be. Something changed... and it's all wrong now."

“Does it have anything to do with you saying that you want.. me?”

Chris visibly tenses, his breathing catching in his chest as the memory of his earlier words comes back to him. He swallows hard and nods, his heart thudding against his ribcage. "Yeah," he mutters, his voice strained. "It has... everything to do with that." He says before looking up at you again, his expression pained and his eyes full of anguish. "You weren't supposed to hear that," he explains, his voice cracking slightly. "I didn't... I didn't mean for you to hear that. I didn't want you to know."

“But you said it, what does it mean?”

Chris takes a deep breath, his heart thudding so hard in his chest it's all he can hear. He knew he was in too deep now, there was no backing out. "It means exactly what you think it means," he mutters, his voice low and heavy. "I... I want you. I want you." He couldn't believe the words were coming out of his mouth, but now they were out there in the open and he couldn't take them back. His eyes search your face, looking for a reaction, a response, any sign of how you felt at his words, but he couldn't find it. "I... I want you," he repeats, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion. "I've wanted you for a long time, and it's been killing me. I... I've messed it up, I know I've messed it up and I can't take it back, but it's the truth. I want you. I need you."

“Jesus christ, Chris.. we could’ve talked about this sooner without that arguing.” You groan as waves of mixed feelings wash over you. Chris lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he runs his hands through his hair again. "You think I wanted to argue with you? This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I didn't want to deal with this, I didn't want to admit this." He sighs deeply, his heart panging in his chest as he meets your gaze. "I'm an idiot," he mutters, his voice quiet. "I just ruined everything, didn't I?"

“No chris— god.. i am in love with you too.”

Chris's heart stops in his chest, his breath catching in his throat as your words wash over him, a rush of emotions surging through him at your confession. His eyes widen, his heart thudding so hard against his ribcage he's sure you can hear it. He just stares at you for a moment, like his brain isn't quite comprehending what he's just heard. "You... what?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, chris..” you say. Those three words hit Chris like a ton of bricks, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending his heart into overdrive. He didn't think he'd ever hear those words from anyone, especially not from you. His expression softens, a mix of surprise and wonder and disbelief on his face as he takes a cautious step towards you, like he's afraid he might shatter whatever fragile dream he's suddenly found himself in. "You... you mean that?" He asks, his voice hoarse and low.

“Yes! I have for a long time, but i didn’t know how to feel when you just.. stopped talking to me.”

A wave of emotions washes over Chris at your words. Relief, joy, disbelief, excitement. He swallows hard, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes another step closer to you. "You... you love me?" He repeats, his voice a little shaky as he tries to process everything. "You love me?" He takes one more step towards you, his expression full of hope and awe. You look up at him, noticing he was already staring at you. His blue eyes are searching your face for any sign of dishonesty or deception. Instead, all he sees is love, and a whole lot of it. His heart is beating so hard in his chest it physically hurt, but he didn't care. All he could see was you, and the fact that you just confessed to loving him. He reaches out hesitantly, slowly putting a hand on your waist, like he's afraid you'll vanish if he moves too quickly.

And there it was, the kiss you’ve both longed for. It feels like a switch is flipped inside the two of you. Like you’re finally free. Your hands move to his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer. His hands move to your ass, letting them rest there. Everything is how it’s supposed to be.

When the kiss finally breaks, Chris's expression is a mixture of wonder and shock, like he can't believe that just actually happened. His heart is pounding in his chest, his brain struggling to process what's just happened. He couldn't believe that you actually wanted him, that you loved him. He lets out a breathless laugh, his face still so close to yours that he can feel your breath on his face. “Shit that was so good.” He says, trying to get some air. Oh and it was good.

It was the best kiss you’ve ever had.

The end<3

Oh my god why is this sooo long :,) i hope yall liked it!

[pretty-blkgirl]

Soul’s Desire [Ch. 35]

- Masterlist -

A/N: Contains a written part

Clue one, accompanied by a bouquet, brought you back home to a layout of gifts in the corner of your room.

Clue two was delivered by Dae, breakfast in bed with a cute little note card telling you to eat and then make your way to the address written down.

Clue three welcomed a brand new car, one you had been eyeing since you were a trainee.

Clue four, inside the car, had a couple more gifts (most notably a brand-new laptop) and instructions to drive over to your regular nail salon.

Clue five was given to you after your nails were done, urging you to drive to another location.

Clue six was at a gorgeous hotel, one away from the public and known for its high level of security and praised for keeping celebrities isolated from any prying fans. You made your way to the hotel room written down to see more decorations.

Clue seven was the long table with nine chairs surrounding it.

You were in awe at how much effort the boys had put into the day. Tears threatened your eyes, but they didn’t have a chance to fall since you felt a hand on your lower back.

Surprisingly, you weren’t startled as you spun around and came face to face with Han.

Behind him, the other seven men stared at you with fond looks.

Remember those tears that didn’t fall? They were doing so at that point. Waterfalls left your eyes as you replayed the day in your mind.

You then started to laugh, wondering where the boys had been hiding when you first walked into the room. An overwhelming sob stopped your laughter, however, and it was up to Felix to try and calm you down.

He couldn’t hide his smile as you cried into his arms. Han was still right by your side, awkwardly looking away to stop himself from shedding any tears.

“I think she’s finally gone insane” You heard Minho whisper to someone.

“Honey, you okay?” Felix asked, his freckles on full display and a little more prominent due to his most recent trip to his home country.

“I’m fine it’s just…I can’t believe this” You sighed, “What did I do to deserve all this?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes with pure amusement, “Hush. You deserve all of this and more”

You smiled through your tears and then started to hug each of your soulmates. It took a while, of course, which made Minho snicker and Chan coo at you.

Another reason why you were so shocked was because a while ago, you and the boys agreed on no gifts. When you brought this up, Changbin remarked that they told YOU not to get them anything, not the other way around.

You argued, swearing to pay them back for the thousands they must have spent.

“Don’t get us anything” Seungmin warned, “I’ll pinch you”

“You guys did all this for me and I have nothing to give” You whined, setting off Hyunjin’s cuteness aggression towards you.

I.N. sported his usual fox-like grin, “Y/n, all we need is you. You’re enough of a gift for us”

Just as you were about to protest, Chan covered your mouth and led you and the boys to the table.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door, forcing Felix to hurry off and answer. You guys were quiet as mice as you listened to his deep voice greet and thank whoever was at the door.

He came back into the main room with loads of room service.

“We’re gonna sleep so good tonight” Han smirked, going for Alfredo until Changbin smacked his hand away

“Youngest first” He reminded, “Go ahead y/nnie”

“I.N.’s not that much older than me” you laugh, “Really, don’t wait on me to eat”

All the boys stared at you with obvious defiance, causing you to fill your plate quickly.

Everyone else dug in, chatting about the many different foods presented and what they were most excited to eat first.

You guys sat around the table, eating, drinking, talking, and laughing. As you sat and looked around at your partners, you realized how lucky you were.

Your heart filled with love, and your soulmate symbol grew warm. The boys noticed, some playfully teasing you and others sheepishly rubbing at their palms.

“Let’s have dessert” Han announced after a little while, immediately looking over at you with what you would call “bedroom eyes”

“There’s dessert too?” You ask.

Hyunjin nods, getting up from his chair and walking over to one of the closets. He opens it, pulling out a dark red lingerie set.

He turns his attention toward you, “Got room for dessert baby?”

You nod almost too enthusiastically as you watch the other guys get up and start to clean up at a frustratingly slow pace.

“Go put this on,” Hyunjin says, handing you the outfit and nodding towards the bathroom.

You practically skip there, knowing your soulmates were watching your every move. You decided to take your time to get ready, and you could barely take two steps out of the bathroom before being picked up and carried to the bed.

~~~~|~~~~

Taglist: @chuuyaobsessed @h0rnyp0t @prttyxbby @yukichan67 @hanniemylovelyquokka @xxeiraxx @loveforlee444 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @cunninglibrarian @holly-here @galaxy4489 @hyunmikim @yougottobekittenme @hyeon-yi @katsukis1wife @multi-fandom-nightmare @staybabblingbaby @kozumesphone @fuck-you-im-gae @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @champagneconfetti-blog @juju-227592 @borahae-reads @reallychaoticwoo @hwangfrnd

[perfectsunlight]

[32] ENOUGH

warnings: therapy sessions, overwhelming emotions, family conflict, intense feelings of isolation and public scrutiny.

JULY 2018

the therapist’s office felt too bright, almost too sterile, with white walls that seemed to reflect every thought jennie was trying to push down. she sat on the edge of a plush couch, her hands folded tightly in her lap, the weight of her secret pressing harder than ever. she couldn’t even look at the therapist—some stranger who was supposed to help her sort through the mess of emotions she couldn’t afford to acknowledge.

jennie had agreed to come here because her manager insisted. it wasn’t for her, though—it was for the image. “you’re under a lot of pressure, jennie. it’s okay to talk about it,” they had nagged. but she wasn’t here for herself. she was here because someone had told her to be. across from her, the therapist—a woman in her late 40s with kind eyes—sat quietly, her notepad resting on her lap. she wasn’t asking anything intrusive yet, only waiting for jennie to open up. 

but she couldn’t.

“jennie,” the therapist smiled, her voice warm and steady, “i understand that things have been moving very fast for you since your debut. how are you feeling about everything that’s happening right now?” the idol stiffened at the mention of blackpink. the group’s rise to fame had been overwhelming, every step met with more pressure, more eyes on her. she wanted to say something, but the words felt trapped in her throat. this wasn’t about being a star—it was about the other part of her life, the one she had to keep hidden.

"everything’s fine," jennie replied, her voice flat, distant. "it’s just a lot to handle sometimes." the therapist simply nodded, her expression calm. "i can imagine. you’re balancing so much. what’s been the hardest part for you?"

jennie’s mind raced. the hardest part? where could she even begin? she was living a double life, caught between the woman the world saw and the woman she had to hide. she was expected to be jennie kim, the idol, the one who smiled for the cameras and smiled through the pain. but what the cameras didn’t know was that there was another life—a life she couldn’t talk about. the one where she was a mother.

her chest tightened as the thought crossed her mind. her daughter. her ivory. her baby girl, who she had to keep from the world. no one can know. no one could ever know. 

the secrecy suffocated her.

"i’m just tired," the rapper replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “all the time, it feels like i’m pretending. i’m not allowed to be real. there’s always this pressure to be perfect. to be this person for everyone, but no one knows the real me.”

the therapist leaned in slightly, sensing the vulnerability behind the idol’s words. “that sounds really exhausting. can you tell me more about what you mean by ‘pretending’?” jennie let out a breath, but no words came. she didn’t know where to start. how could she explain the tension in her chest, the constant guilt, the way her heart ached every time she had to leave her daughter behind? she couldn’t even say she was a mother. she had to keep that part of herself locked away.

“it just all feels fake.” the idol had answered, her voice tinged with a frustration she couldn’t quite name. “like everyone wants me to be this one thing. they expect me to be perfect all the time. it’s like i have to be this persona, and if i show any cracks, everything will fall apart.”

jennie’s slender fingers gripped the edge of the couch, her knuckles shades of her daughter’s name from the pressure. she didn’t dare look at the therapist, afraid that if she did, she might reveal too much. she had to hold herself together—even here, she had to be jennie kim, the image the world adored, the person they thought they knew.

the therapist, quiet and patient, let the silence stretch between them. she understood—jennie didn’t need advice or platitudes right now. she needed someone to hear her, someone to acknowledge the struggle that came with the life she had chosen.

the idol finally spoke again after a few beats of silence, her words a soft confession, her voice breaking slightly with the weight of what she wasn’t saying. “there’s always someone who wants something from me. always someone who wants to use me. nothing feels real, nothing feels genuine.”

the therapist nodded slowly, leaning back into her leather chair but maintaining her focus. “that sounds incredibly isolating. to feel like you have to keep everything locked inside, and not be able to share your true self with anyone.”

the idol’s gaze dropped to her hands, now fidgeting nervously. she didn’t want to share her true self. she couldn’t share it. she couldn’t risk it. the truth, the part of her that was real, wasn’t something the world could ever accept. 

it was too dangerous. too fragile. 

“i don’t know who i’m supposed to be anymore,” jennie whispered, her voice barely audible. “i don’t know how to be everything they want me to be. and still be me.”

there was a pause, and the therapist gave her the space to gather her thoughts, even if the words felt impossible to say. jennie had spent so many months—years, really—burying parts of herself. she couldn’t even let herself believe she could be anything other than the image she had crafted. even now, sitting in a therapist's office, she couldn’t speak the truth about who she was beneath all the layers.

the therapist spoke again, her voice quiet but insistent. “well, it sounds like you're carrying a heavy burden. you don’t have to bear it alone. is there anyone in your life who makes you feel seen? someone who knows the real you?”

jennie wanted to laugh in her face and just walk out the door, the absurdity of the question hitting her like ice in her veins. who could ever understand this? who could understand her?

her eyes flicked to the woman who sat waiting, her gentle expression a stark contrast to the ocean of thoughts drowning in the idol's mind. the question had unintentionally struck a nerve. of course, there was no one. not in the way the therapist meant. 

no one could understand the weight of the mask jennie had to wear. no one could see past the glossy surface of the public persona, the polished image that was expected of her. and even if someone tried to see me, would they even care?

jennie’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric of her jacket. “no,” she said, the word escaping her like a cold, sharp breath. “no one knows me. not really.”

she didn’t even believe it herself. not completely. it was easier to lie, easier to convince herself that she was better off this way—alone in her truth, because the alternative was too terrifying. to be seen, to be known by anyone, meant the possibility of being rejected, of being abandoned by the very people who adored the version of her they had created in their minds.

the therapist sat back a little, not pushing her further, but giving jennie the space to breathe, to consider her words. the silence in the room felt heavy now, almost suffocating.

the idol cleared her throat, fighting back the lump in her throat. her gaze dropped to her hands, which were twisting and folding in her lap, betraying her anxiety. she had to get out of here. she had to escape from this room, from the vulnerability that was creeping in, inch by inch.

“i don’t know how to be me,” jennie muttered under her breath, the words barely audible. “i don’t even know who that is anymore.”

as if on queue, the timer went off, signaling the end of their time together. jennie felt a rush of relief surge through her chest. it was as if the weight she’d been carrying for the past hour finally lifted, and for the first time that day, she could breathe. she didn’t even bother with pleasantries as she stood up. "thank you," she muttered almost automatically, her voice a little hoarse. she wasn’t sure if it was gratitude or just a desperate need to escape the room, but either way, she was out of there as soon as the words left her lips.

as she hurried down the hallway to the parking lot, the rest of the world seemed to fade into a dull hum. she didn’t want to think about the things they’d discussed. she didn’t want to process the way the conversation had unraveled parts of her she wasn’t ready to face. all she wanted was to be home, to be with ivory. the little girl who somehow made everything feel right, even if only for a while.

when she stepped through the door, jieun was there, but jennie barely spared her a glance. her mind was already on ivory. her heart, which had been tight all through the session, began to loosen at the thought of holding her daughter.

“i’ll be with her,” the idol said quietly, her tone flat. jieun, sensing her need for space, gave a soft nod and stepped back, leaving her daughter to retreat into the quiet of their home.

jennie’s pace quickened as she made her way down the hallway. she opened the door to ivory’s room softly, and there the little girl was, sitting on her little rug, her tiny hands putting bows on kuma. at the sight of her, the idol felt the first wave of peace she’d had all day.

ivory looked up and saw her mother, her brown eyes lighting up with pure, unfiltered joy. “mommy?” she said in surprise, her head tilting to the side, a grin spreading across her face. 

the idol’s own face softened, though there was a tightness still lingering in her chest. she didn’t answer with words. instead, she moved to the floor and immediately pulled ivory into her arms, her heartbeat slowing as she pressed her daughter against her. jane’s little body fit perfectly in jennie’s arms, a familiar weight she could never grow tired of.

they didn’t need to talk. jennie didn’t want to talk. there was no need for anything else at that moment. she just needed to hold her daughter, to feel her warm breath against her neck, to know that, for a little while, she didn’t have to be anything other than here.

jane nestled against her, sighing contentedly, her small hands reaching up to trace her mother’s face, as though memorizing the shape of it. jennie closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of baby lotion and something uniquely ivory.

for a while, the room was quiet, the only sound was the soft rhythm of their breathing. ivory shifted in her mother’s arms, her face nuzzling into jennie’s shoulder, and jennie tightened her hold, as if trying to shield her from everything—everything outside of this room, outside of this moment.

it didn’t matter that the world was still waiting for her, that the pressures, the expectations, the fear—everything—was still looming. in this little bubble, with her daughter in her arms, none of that mattered. she could almost forget it all.

she could just be jennie, the mother. the most important title in her life.

as the hours slipped by, the idol found herself reluctant to move, reluctant to even speak. she just wanted to stay like this, to hold her daughter close and pretend that the rest of the world didn’t exist. the way ivory’s tiny fingers curled into her sleeve, the way she let out soft giggles as jennie kissed her head, made her heart swell.

and for that fleeting moment, that brief escape from everything else, jennie allowed herself to believe that this was enough.

—

OCTOBER 2025

the office space was painted in dark, muted colors, the kind designed to be calming. dark blues and greens lined the walls, interrupted only by a row of shelves filled with books and puzzles. a small table in the corner held crayons and coloring sheets, their cheerful appearance clashing with the suffocating weight jane felt pressing against her tiny chest.

she didn’t want to be here. the only reason she agreed was because jennie had asked her to. however, ivory was starting to question why in the world she agreed to it.

the therapist was a kind-looking woman with dark eyes and a soothing voice. she sat across from her, the wall behind her littered with framed awards and certifications. ivory couldn’t remember her name—ms. something—but it didn’t matter. the woman was just another stranger, someone who didn’t understand.

“hi, jane,” she said, her voice warm like honey. she opened one of her notepads and grabbed a sleek looking pen from her drawer. “it’s so nice to meet you. your grandma and your mom told me a lot about you.”

the eleven year old glanced at the therapist in slight annoyance, then quickly averted her gaze to the patterned rug beneath her shoes. it felt safer to stare there, at the swirling blues and whites, than to meet the woman’s kind, probing eyes.

she didn’t want to be here. matter of fact, she had no idea why both her grandmother and mother thought this was a good idea. the therapist paused for a beat, giving her space, then continued.

 “they said you’ve been feeling a little sad lately. that you’ve been missing your mom a lot when she’s away. is that true?”

jane’s fingers gripped the hem of her grey oversized sweater. it was a gift from her mother. a one of one vintage designer piece. she didn’t remember exactly what brand, all she cared about was that it was from her mom. she wanted to laugh at the question, to stand up and just walk out already.

of course she missed her. she missed her every single day that jennie was gone, every moment she had to pretend she was like every other kid when her life was anything but.

but how could she explain it? how could she look at this stranger and tell her the truth? that her mom wasn’t just some busy woman working long hours, but jennie kim—the jennie kim? that her absence wasn’t just because of an ordinary job, but because of cameras and flashing lights and a career that consumed her whole world?

so she stayed quiet.

the therapist tilted her head slightly, her expression patient and encouraging. “it’s okay if it’s hard to talk about. you don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready.”

the young girl’s throat tightened as the therapist’s words hung in the air. she clenched her jaw and stared harder at the patterned rug, as if the swirling shapes could somehow anchor her, stop the storm of emotions from bubbling over.

the room was too quiet. the kind of quiet that made everything feel louder—the hum of the air conditioning, the subtle creak of the chair as she shifted, even her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

“i…” jane started, her voice barely a whisper. but the words caught in her throat. she could feel the therapist’s eyes on her, gentle but expectant, like she was waiting for her to find the words to continue.

the silence stretched on, unbearable. her slender fingers twisted the hem of her sweater tighter, the soft fabric biting into her palms. she thought of her mom—her amazing, beautiful mom—smiling at her from the screen, her voice like sunshine when she called from some faraway hotel room. jane hated how much she craved those moments, the rare ones where her mother felt like just her mother.

but they weren’t alone moments. not really. there were always fans, schedules, cameras. always someone else demanding a piece of her mom.

jane swallowed hard. she couldn’t say any of that. couldn’t say how much it hurt to share her mom with the world. to feel like she was competing with millions of strangers for her attention.

“i’m fine.” the young kim whispered, giving a firm nod of her head. the therapist didn’t react right away. she just nodded in reply, her smile small and understanding, like she knew the young girl wasn’t fine but wouldn’t push her to admit it. 

“sometimes it helps to draw or write about how you’re feeling,” she said, sliding a blank sheet of paper and a box of crayons across the table. “no one has to see it. it’s just for you.”

jane’s eyes flicked to the paper. her hands didn’t move. she hated how everyone kept asking her to “express her feelings” like it would magically fix everything. the young girl gave the therapist a look, one that definitely meant jane knew what the older woman was trying to do. when the therapist realized the girl wasn’t going to take the bait, she leaned back slightly. 

“do you want to tell me about your mom?”

that question hit harder than it should have. jane’s chest tightened, and her lips pressed into a thin line. “what about her?” she finally scoffed, her voice a bit sharper than she intended to. she could feel the irritation bubbling up inside her, the urge to push back, to defend the one part of her life that was supposed to be her own. as if this therapist even knew who her mother was. jane could already call it from a mile away—the polite, clinical smile on the woman’s face, the soft, empathetic tone. 

but it was all fake, wasn’t it?

jennie had probably used one of her four (and yes, she had counted) fake names when signing jane up for this session. four. because there was no way anyone could know who jennie kim really was—not even a therapist. not in a place like this. not in this life jane had to pretend to lead.

the therapist, not flinching at the sudden shift in jane’s tone, asked again, “what’s she like?”

it was a loaded question, at least to the young girl it was. what was jennie kim like? to the world, she was untouchable—charismatic, talented, adored by millions. she was the kind of person people wrote songs about, the kind of person who could command a room with just a glance. but to ivory, jennie was a puzzle, one she couldn’t quite figure out. 

her mom, who could light up her entire world in one moment and then disappear from it the next.

she thought of the sweater she was wearing, the way her mother had handed it to her with a bright smile, saying, “this reminded me of you.” she thought of the lullabies jennie used to sing when she was younger, of the way her mom’s hugs felt like the safest place in the world.

but she also thought of the canceled birthdays, the missed school plays, the empty chair at dinner. she thought of how every time jennie said, “i’ll be home soon,” jane stopped believing it a little more.

ivory’s throat burned, feeling like shards of glass in her windpipe. she hesitated, her voice trembling a bit more than she had planned. 

“she’s busy.”

the therapist’s head tilted slightly, her expression softening. “that must be hard. when someone you care about is busy a lot.”

jane felt the lump in her throat grow, the tightness in her chest spreading like a burning wildfire. she wanted to scream at the woman to stop, to leave her alone, to stop digging at things she didn’t want to talk about. but instead, she forced her voice to stay steady. “i’m used to it.”

the therapist paused, watching her carefully. “you must be very strong to handle that,” she said gently.

jane’s hands relaxed slightly at the words, but only for a moment. they didn’t feel like a compliment. they felt like a reminder—one she didn’t need. being strong wasn’t a choice. it was just something she had to be.

the session dragged on, filled with more questions jane didn’t want to answer and silences she couldn’t fill. by the end of it, she was exhausted, her body heavy with emotions she still didn’t know how to name.

jieun picked her up after the session, her usual warm smile in place as she waved from the car. jane slid into the passenger seat, her silence as thick as the tension in her chest. she felt jieun’s eyes on her along with the unspoken questions hanging in the air.

“how was it?” the older woman finally asked, her voice light but careful. jane stared out the window, watching the world blur past. “it was fine,” she muttered. the words were flat, stripped of anything that might invite more questions.

her grandmother didn’t press her, but as they pulled into the driveway and parked, she turned to the smaller girl with a softness that made the girl’s chest ache. “do you want to go back next week? you don’t have to if it’s too much.”

jane hesitated, her fingers curling around the strap of her backpack. the weight of the question pressed down on her. did she want to go back? did she want to sit in that room again, feeling like she was being pried open? did she want to pretend that someone else’s words could fix the cracks that had already run so deep?

“no,” she said finally, her voice quiet, even as her chest tightened further. “i don’t want to go back.”

jieun nodded, her expression unreadable. she didn’t argue, didn’t try to convince jane otherwise. “okay,” she said softly. “that’s okay.”

but as they walked into the house and ivory retreated to her room, she couldn’t shake the hollowness that had settled inside her. she dropped her bag to the floor and sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. the session had left her drained, not relieved. the therapist’s words echoed in her mind, the attempt at comfort ringing hollow.

"you must be very strong."

strong wasn’t enough. pretending to be strong didn’t make the loneliness go away, didn’t fill the spaces where words failed, didn’t erase the ache that came from being so close to someone and yet feeling so far away.

this wasn’t going to work, she knew that now. she couldn’t keep doing this—couldn’t keep sitting in rooms with people who wanted her to explain the things she barely understood herself. no one’s words were going to fix it.

no one’s reassurances were going to be enough. no matter how many fancy degrees or framed certificates they had hanging on their walls, they didn’t have the answers she needed. they couldn’t untangle the mess inside her head or quiet the ache in her chest. every question felt like a spotlight on something she wanted to keep in the dark, every answer she gave felt like handing over a piece of herself she wasn’t ready to share.

ivory sat on the edge of her bed, her hands gripping the comforter as if it might anchor her. the house was quiet, the kind of silence that pressed in on her and made her feel smaller. she thought of her grandmother downstairs, probably pretending not to worry, probably thinking about what to tell her mother later. for now she’d be giving her space, because that’s what jieun always did.

but space wasn’t what jane wanted. not really. what she wanted wasn’t something she could name, and it definitely wasn’t something anyone could give her. it wasn’t something she’d find in a therapist’s office, no matter how soft their voice or kind their eyes were.

her chest felt tight again, like it might collapse in on itself. she pressed her palms flat against her legs, grounding herself, but the weight of everything she was carrying still felt like too much.

this wasn’t going to work. jane had always known, deep down, that it wouldn’t. and now, staring at the cracks in her ceiling, she let that truth settle over her like a blanket. no one could fix this for her.

and no one’s words—not a therapist’s, not jieun’s—were ever going to be enough.

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CLOSED.

[weepingwillowwonder]

YALLLLLL, guess what's on my mind today?~

[CW: Suggestive content, MDNI 🔞, not really proofread]

Playing hide and seek with Alastor in the swamp in his room had become a reoccurrence in your relationship with him. The stipulations being, if you were caught, he could do whatever he pleased with you, with your goal to find your way out of the swamp.

Of course he would always catch you, pin you down wherever you were found and have his way with you. This "game" you weren't meant to win, was just as fun for you too though. He'd thoroughly take care of you, feeding off of your fear and the adrenaline coursing through him as he got to hunt you down.

But one day, you somehow manage to escape, very much to your suprise (and his). Scrambling to leave his room, you take no time looking back to see if he was behind you. You try to act as casual as possible as you head into the lobby of the hotel and take a seat at the bar where some of the residents were gathered.

"Damn toots, what happened to ya?" Angel Dust comments, eyeing your attire almost with disgust. Still trying to catch your breath, you hadn't realized exactly how dirty your clothes had gotten in the swamp. As you were examining yourself, in the corner of your eye, an impeccably dressed Alastor strolls into the lobby, immediately making his way towards you.

Maybe it was the sharpness of his smile, or the stiffness of his posture that has the residents scattering like flies as he approaches you. He doesn't sit down, instead he stays standing, hovering next you and motions to Husk to pour him a drink.

You initially try to ignore him, but a gentle hand settling on your lower back has your head snapping up in his direction in suprise. While subtle, the public display of affection, catches you off guard. When you finally do meet his eyes, the first thing you note is that his pupils are blown, the weight of his gaze sending shivers down your spine.

You stare each other down, unspoken words between you, only broken when you both look to see Husk set down Alastor's drink in front of you. You let out a shaky breath as he accepts the drink and takes a sip, only to hold it again when he leans in close to you, speaking quietly.

"Well done, my dear. Truly, I'm shocked you were able to slip from my grasp." He lets out a small laugh as his lips brush against your ear and the hand on your back slides lower. "Go get cleaned up, then come find me. Hurry now, so I can tear you apart..."

[secondarysefikura]

I'm not going to go TOO in depth about this cause I don't think a lot of people really want me to ramble about political theory and such, but I think Shinra would have secretly been quite grateful for the terrorist attacks caused by Avalanche at the start of the game.

Why? Well it's about this little thing called diversionary war. Diversionary war is great for governments that have recently been involved in some sort of scandal, because it rallies the people who might have been very upset about said scandal around a common enemy. Think "celebrity flooding the news with some sort of fluff story to take attention away from the massive lawsuit they're in" type thing.

With that in mind, imagine you are Shinra. You have done your fair share of unethical things, but it's not really all that worrisome since everyone who knows about the bad things you have done either a: works for you and therefore can't whistleblow without incriminating themselves or b: is dead/being experimented on in a lab somewhere. Life is good.

But then one of your ex-employees, who happens to know about one of the really bad things you covered up AND who you have been experimenting on for a few years escapes. Well shit. If he whistle blows, others might follow suit. And the dead body he's dragging with him means he isn't exactly stuble, even if he's trying to hide. It's only reasonable to assume that he is going to try to let people know about all the things you have been up to.

And sure you managed to kill him, but that doesn't mean he wasn't at large for quite a while. Who knows what kind of public outcry might be brewing. If only something really terrible happened that would distract everyone from the bad things you've done and make everyone rally around you. If only...oh, Avalanche attacked? Well isn't that convenient. We now have public enemy number one to put any and all blame on.

[ms--lobotomy]

@men-want-me-fish-fear-me gave me Lucius brainworms. Melt it

Summary: A hunt for a pet doesn't go as expected. Word Count: 762 Content Warnings: Smut, Pred/Prey, Lucius the Eternal, body horror, in my mind this is all consensual but I didn't specify in this fic so dubcon i guess, masc reader, public? Emperor's Children that are even worse than him. Also SMUT and potentially into DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT territory Image Credit: @squishyowl

The link in the chain snapped with a pop, and you knew it was time to run. You tripped over batteries and other such things he considered snacks, leaving marks and gashes in your bare feet. Fuck. You adjusted the small loincloth over your privates as you got back up. He was not only a Space Marine, but a gelatinous abomination and and affront to all gods but Slaanesh. You knew he knew you were free.

You opened the door, paying no mind to how loud it was. There were faces in the wall of Lucius's quarters, shrieking and yowling in pain.

"Run," one of them said.

"I'm fucking trying," you huffed under your breath as you left his quarters.

The ship was empty, eerily so. You felt the fleshy floor under your feet, and groaned as you started walking forwards. There weren't many full faces in here, thank goodness, but you felt a tooth every once in a while.

It wasn't long before you heard familiar, heavy steps. Slaaneshi mutations affected everyone in different ways; it gave Lucius fleshy hooves and made his tongue long and sandpaper-y. You shivered as you fumbled for another door, opening it with even more force than the last one.

There were the Emperor's Children, far away, but a flank was headed in your direction. You shrunk yourself back to avoid notice by them. The only thing more dangerous than Lucius was one of his brothers; in particular, any that didn't particularly like him.

You heard them picking up their pace. Shit. You looked for anything to hide in, hide behind. There was a tentacle sticking up from the floor, but in a cruel act of Slaanesh, it slipped back into the ground.

"What's over there?" one of the Emperor's Children asked.

You froze. You tried to stay still, but they bolted towards you with ungodly weapons in hand. Your eyes widened, and before you knew it, one of them grabbed you by the neck. You tensed up while he lifted you up to his face. His eyeholes glowed slightly, lighting up more as he spoke.

"Hmm..." he said, running a finger along your jaw. "Baseline."

Another one laughed. "Don't see those too often!" His helmet lit up just like his brother's.

The third one nodded. "Might be someone's pet. Be careful."

You were about to sigh with relief before the first removed his helmet. There was a horrid speaker where his mouth was supposed to be, and his eyes were two small black dots right where the bridge of his nose was supposed to be. You felt his breath? Noise? Upon your face. You shut your eyes, prepared for the worst, until a voice broke the silence.

"Hey! That's mine!"

You breathed a sigh of relief as Lucius came after you. His footsteps were rather squishy sounding, even more so than anyone's would be on this floor.

The Emperor's Children dropped you, scurrying away as he brandished his blade at them. His tongue was out, swaying behind him like a stray tentacle. He really did look like the galaxy's ugliest dog.

You tried to get back up onto your feet, but you stumbled on the fleshy ground of the ship. You felt him get closer to you, picking you up by your armpits. He looked you up and down, unhooking one hand to thumb at the bruise the first Emperor's Child left.

"I will deal with this..." he said, and you thought he was going to put you down for a second before he opened his mouth again.

"Later."

You nodded, going limp in his grasp. His green eyes surveyed you further, looking over every inch of exposed skin. He flicked the bruises and cuts on your feet, and you let out a yelp. His skin felt gelatinous on yours. It seemed he was melting as he touched you.

All of a sudden, he dropped you. You looked back at him, inching away. He chuckled.

"Go on. Are you going to run?"

You felt a lump manifest in your throat as your arms and legs failed you. You landed on a tooth near the surface of the floor as you went limp. That was going to bruise later. He let out a full on belly laugh, looming over you. He blocked out what little light there was in the hallway. He leaned down and licked your cheek with that sandpaper-y tongue.

"I'm going to fill you up with more cum than you have organs," he said, grabbing your ankle as you struggled under him.

"Pet."

Taglist: @bispecsual @justeverythingnothingelse @bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae @historitor-bookshelf

[potchi-fics]

attention

 an engineer is what you are in piltover. your life mostly consists of work, work, sleep, more work, and helping people when you have free time, so just more work– it’s all you’ve known for whole your life. 

so tell me why you’re in Zaun, hiding under your cloak, gripping your dagger tightly in your small but calloused hands. you do not belong here , you think to yourself. you feel uneasy, anxious, fidgety, tense, on edge; hell, all the synonyms for those words. the thought of zaunites being violent has been engraved in your brain, all the years you’ve been in topside are to be blamed. thuds of your boots meeting the wet ground reach your ears and you cant help but feel their stares, glares , on your figure so you do the next thing that pops up in your mind: enter the bar .

you heave out a sigh at the sight of the bar, drunkards sleeping on the counter. you turn your head and you see a group of people playing cards. you turn your head one more time to see some shady stuff happening in the corner so you choose to ignore it and make yourself seated on a stool– a couple of chairs away from a snoring drunk. 

“what’ll you have?” a rough voice interrupted you from taking a longer look around.

       your gaze falls onto the bartender, catching a glimpse of his name tag: markus. opting for a light drink, you ordered a beer. finally settling down, you feel your muscles relax, convincing yourself that you’re safe.

a clink from the glass cup brings your attention back to markus, still a bit jumpy. “first time?”

“what?” your voice is thick with surprise, unintentionally exposing yourself. 

“not a speck of dirt on you,” he starts, “not even a speck of dust on you. what are you doing here, topsider?” 

       markus’ eyes doesnt judge you, the use of his nickname topsider does not hold any judgment. your shoulders slump down slightly as relief washes over you because, for some reason, you just know that he wont rat you out to the public.

beer almost escaping the cup seeing you quickly bring it up to your lips, “to be honest with you, i dont even know, man. i guess i just got curious?”

he snorts, busying himself with cleaning other cups, “curiosity will get you killed, lady.” 

       you talk for a few minutes before getting interrupted by a sudden yelling. you dont bother to look around– given the sounds of punching, groaning, and more punching, you figure to mind your own business. instinctively, your hand reaches for your dagger just in time when a drunkard sluggishly approaches you.

slurred words, a stinky smell fills your aroma which makes you wince, “what’re you doin’ here all ‘lone, pretty?”

you try to ignore him.

“hey,” he puts his hand on your shoulder, “im talking to you, bitch.”

       blink and they’d miss how you swat his filthy hand away from you just to stab it into the counter. screams of agony filled the already noisy bar but you could only glare at the man– your eyes soulless and dead. 

he grabs your wrist holding the dagger with his other hand. “you bitch,” he manages to snarl out. 

“yeah? sorry,” you finish him off by slamming his head on the side of the counter, “didnt hear you.” you spat out.

       effectively knocking him out, you angrily take back your dagger, making eye contact with the scared bartender. his eyes widening signaled you that someone was behind you, ready to strike. mentally thanking him, you took a step to the side, barely escaping an angry fist. men are such babies. seeing an opening for a strike to his head, you took it– mustering all the strength in your body to punch him. he stumbles back a bit while holding his head before charging at you– however, you were much quicker: you threw your remaining beer at his face, distracting and blinding him for a moment. but a moment is all you need; you stab his side, lifting his head by pushing his jaw upwards, you pull out your knife before sinking your lovely knife into his shoulder. he didnt get a chance to scream since you grabbed his head with both of your hands and forcibly slamming his face down on the stool.

“fuck,” you pant out, adrenaline pumping in your veins now. “fucking stupid ass fucking bitches gettin’ on my fucking damn nerve. what is wrong with you drunkards.”

      with a crouch, you snatched your dagger from the man’s shoulder, wiping it on his clothes in the process of cleaning it. once more, you look at markus– taking notice of the eerily quiet bar, shit , the curse echoed in your mind.

you bring your finger up to your lips to signal him to be quiet. one last look at the man on the floor, you throw change into the bloody counter and leave the bar as fast as possible. you turn to alleyways to alleyways to run away from a bar because you know that you made a scene, and the last thing that you want is attention.

what you dont know is a cloaked figure, smoke coming out of her cigarette is already watching your every move. you dont know that you’ve caught the eyes of a one-armed army, her mechanical arm softly humming as its gears and fans do their jobs.

       you dont know you’ve caught the attention of sevika.

[cioud-berries]

Mutual Benefit || Chapter 3

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Hello all!! I wrote all three of these chapters in less than 24 hours. Most of my finals are due next week so please bare with me for the next few chapters, I will try my hardest to get them out quickly!!

If wanna know where I am at with the chapters, or even just my life, or just wanna talk, you should join my discord!! It'd be great to see you there!

Summery:

Posts season 2: Spoiler warning!! Being forced into an arranged marriage, [Name] tried her hardest with her unreceptive husband Salo. After his death, she was forced to replace his council position, trying to figure out who she was as a person. Sevika never expected to get anywhere close to the council, let alone join them. As the stigma around people from Zaun still stood, she struggled to gain the respect from her new fellow councillors. With so many differences how could the two really help one another?

Chapter Warnings:

Season 2 Spoilers, alcohol

Word count: 3,256

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For some odd reason, Sasha’s nanny had last minute plans come up. Leaving [Name] with no other choice than to shove her daughter in the nicest dress she had, and drag her along to the party. Sasha was so excited to attend her first party. On the walk over, she wouldn’t stop jumping around and yelling about how excited she was to show everyone her dress.

[Name] could only laugh at her daughter's antics, but it was quickly followed up by her reminding her daughter. “This is an adult party. You must behave yourself.”

“I will mommy!” She excitedly exclaimed. She was twirling around to see the way her dress flowed around her.

[Name] let it happen, knowing it was best for her to get all of her energy out now before the party. As they rode the elevator up to the top floor, [Name] took deep breaths as Sasha leaned on her.

She had never attended a party without Salo, and this would be the first time she would be attending once since his death. Usually he navigated her through the parties, taking her to who she should talk to, never needing to worry about council things.

Knowing this party was going to be the biggest point in wanting to get her plans to be voted on, she put an air of confidence around her. Faking until she made it was going to be her personal motto after this, knowing you had to have some sort of arrogance to get what you want, like Salo did. 

As she entered the party room, Shoola immediately noticed, making her way over. “I am pleased that you made it.” 

“Thank you for inviting me.” [Name] kindly responded with.

Now that Sasha was actually at the party, she suddenly became shy, hiding behind her mothers legs. While it was known that she and Salo had a child, he rarely went out with her, making her appearance not known to the public.

Shoola was quick to notice the young girl, crouching down to her level. “And who are you?” She asked in a soft tone, not wanting to scare the girl.

[Name] pulled Sasha to her side, making sure she wasn’t to hide. Sasha looked up at her mother, wanting her approval to go on. [Name] nodded, saying that it was okay to talk to this stranger. 

“My name is Sasha.” The girl quietly whispered. 

“What a beautiful name.” Shoola smiled at her. “Well Miss Sasha, I hope you enjoy the party.” Shoola rises back up to continue talking with [Name].

“What do we say?” [Name] asked Sasha.

Sasha whispered a quiet “Thank you.” 

“I apologize for not warning you that I would be bringing her.” [Name] was quick to add. “Her nanny said she had a family emergency last minute and I had no time to find someone else.”

Shoola put her hand out to stop [Name] from continuing. “It is quite alright. I am happy she is here.”

“Thank you.” [Name] sighed out in relief. “I also invited Sevkia. I didn’t know if you invited her or not but since she is a councilor now I thought that she should be a part of our parties as well. I hope you don’t mind.”

Shoola seemed to hesitate a bit. Aside from [Name], she seemed to be the most accepting of Sevika in the council. “I didn’t invite her because I thought she wouldn’t want to come. But thank you for extending the invitation.”

“I don’t know if she will come.” [Name] added “But I thought it would be nice to at least invite her.”

Their conversation continued, talking about how much Piltover was going to change now. At some point, Sasha left her mother’s side without her knowing. Wandering around the room, she looked at all of the partygoers and listened to their conversations. Sometimes they would shoo her away, and other times they would begin kindly talking to her, asking who she was there with.

To Sasha, everyone began to look the same. The same expensive clothes, all leaning down at her. She was bored out of her mind by all of the people. Going back to her mother who was talking to a different person now. 

She grabbed her mothers arm, tugging on it. “Mommy, I wanna go home!” She whined. 

“We will go home soon sweetie.” [Name] brushed her off.

Sasha looked around the room, trying to find anyone interesting to talk to. Not too far away stood a woman that looked very out of place. This piqued her interest as she made her way over to the woman. As she got closer, she noticed that the woman was clearly hiding something under the cloak that draped over her left shoulder. 

Intrigued, she walked up behind the woman. Without a word she pulled the fabric up to reveal the mechanical arm. She was fascinated by the metal. All the metal she had seen in her life were shined to perfection to the point where you could see your own reflection. This metal was rough and dull, something that she wasn’t used to. Wanting to see more of it, she grabbed the mechanical arm, pulling it closer to her to get a better look. But she forgot that it was attached to a person. 

Sevika quickly pulled her arm away from the girl. “Don’t touch that!” She raised her voice at the child. She came no were close to harming Sasha, but the sudden movement and voice raised at her startled her, causing her to cry.

[Name] immediately noticed the commotion. Giving her glass of wine to the person that she was talking to, she ran over to Sasha, kneeling down to try to calm her. “You can’t just grab people like that.” She softly scolded, picking her up and carrying her out of the room to calm her down. 

Everyone in the room was quiet, watching Sevika, assuming that she hurt the child in some way. They began to whisper behind their hands, already creating rumors about the new counselor. 

Walking over to the balcony, she lit a cigarette, not caring what the others were thinking about her. She began questioning why she even came. No one wanted to talk to her, nor did she want to talk to anyone. She couldn’t even get drunk with how little alcohol the glasses held. 

As she finished the cigarette, she turned to leave, not seeing any reason to stay. She was met with [Name], holding Sasha's shoulders, walking up to her. Sasha’s eyes were red as she sniffled. 

They were quiet for a second before [Name] nudged Sasha. “What do you have to say to Miss Sevika?”

With a sniffle, Sasha got her words out. “I am sorry for grabbing you.”

Sevika looked down at the child, not knowing what to say. Normally she’d just walk off without a word. But when she looked up at [Name], she could tell that she was expected to respond. 

“Whatever.” Sevika let out, turning back to the railings, hoping they would leave so she could make her escape. 

[Name] crouched down to her daughter, giving her a kiss on her forehead. “Why don’t you go find Miss Caitlyn and Vi while I talk to Miss Sevika. Then we can go home.” 

“Okay momma.” The girl sniffled as she ran off. 

To Sevika’s dismay, [Name] leaned against the railing beside her. “I’m sorry about her.” She apologized.

Sevika lit another cigarette, knowing she now was stuck in conversation. “Didn’t know you were married.” Sevika ignored the apology. 

“I’m not.” [Name] quickly responded. She didn’t know why but she cared about what Sevika thought of her. “He died during the whole war thing.”

“Sorry.” Her tone was not apologetic.

“Don’t be!” [Name] was quick to dismiss her condolences, hating all of them that she had gotten this party. “It was an arranged marriage. I’m honestly glad he’s dead. I only mourn for the loss of my daughter’s father.” Her eyes widened as the words came out of her mouth, realizing how much she had to drink and shouldn’t be saying that outloud. “Pretend I didn’t say that.”

Sevika only snickered at her honesty.

“I am glad you came.” [Name] tried continuing the conversation. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Sevika cracked a smile at the absurdity of her question. “This is one of the most boring parties I’ve ever attended. I can’t even get a buzz with these small cups.” She held up the fancy glass that held a clear liquid.

“My husband felt the same.” [Name] laughed. “He would have me hold another glass for him so it didn’t look like he was drinking as much as he was.” 

“Why would he attend a party like this if all he wanted to do was get drunk?” Sevika took the last sip of alcohol from her drink.

“Because he knew how to play the game.” [Name] slid her mostly full glass of alcohol to Sevika. Hesitantly, Sevika took it from her. “And he liked to try his best to get drunk while doing it.”

“You keep mentioning this game.” Sevika commented, still not fully understanding her intentions.

“The game of politics.” [Name] stated matter of factly, turning around to the crowd of party goers inside. “You’re a fool to think that you aren’t playing it. Everyone is a pawn. Your goal is to make everyone your pawn while they think that you’re their pawn. It’s how anything gets done around here.” 

“And why do you care if I know how to play it or not?” Sevika felt as though that [Name] was trying to make her a ‘pawn’ as she described it. There was some truth to her suspicion. [Name] did want to genuinely get to know Sevika, but she also was trying to butter her up to assist in the deconstruction plans. 

“We’re both new players.” [Name] shrugged. “We’re the most likely to be taken advantage of. Even though most of them are new to the position, they all have their own deep connections already formed. It is best if we banned together against them… Plus, I believe we have similar interests for the most part.”

“And what interest do we share?” Sevika raised her eyebrow at her, taking another sip from [Name]’s glass.

“Improving the life of the people of Zaun.” [Name] said confidently, staring directly into Sevika’s eyes.

Sevika huffed, also turning around to the party. “So how exactly do I make people believe I’m their pawn?”

“Like this.” [Name] began to walk back into the party. 

Automatically her eye scanned over [Name’s] body, mainly focussing on her ass. Sevika looked up to be met with, [Name]’s shocked expression. The only reaction she could give to being caught was a sly smirk. 

[Name] took a step closer to Sevika, grabbing the glass of alcohol out of her grasp. She finished the liquid off and shoved the glass back into Sevika’s arms. “Come on.” She mumbled, heading for a woman who was grabbing another round of refreshments off the table. “Madam Shaw.” [Name] greeted happily.

“Oh [Name], it is so good to see you again. I am so sorry about Salo.” She spoke sincerely.

Sevika watched [Name]’s jaw clench at the mention of her late husband. “Thank you. It has been especially hard on Sasha.” 

“Oh she is such a sweet child. I had a small conversation with her earlier. It was smart to bring her here and get her out of the house.” Madam Shaw complimented. 

“Thank you. We tried our hardest with her.” [Name] ended the conversation, quickly turning to what she really wanted to talk about. “Sevika and I were just discussing your recent purchase in the emerald mines up to the north. We wanted to know more about it.” 

[Name] looked over at Sevika, queuing that it was her time to talk. Sevika frowned, not necessarily waiting to get into this conversation. She chose to stay quiet, not muttering a word.

The woman’s face lit up, thinking that two new bugs had just gotten stuck in her web. She began to explain her elaborate emerald mines and how she was looking for more investors. Spewing on and on about how prosperous the mines were and that even if they invested the tiniest bit of money, the payout would be massive. 

They both were extremely bored and could care less, but [Name] made it hard for anyone to tell. While the woman went on and on, Sevika watched [Name]’s facial expression, analyzing how effortlessly she seemed interested, also noticing the few times her facade cracked.

[Name] wouldn’t have chosen madam Shaw if she knew that she’d talk this much, but she knew she couldn’t just leave. Her savior soon came tugging on her arm, yawning in the process. “You said we would leave soon.”

Madam Shaw halted her conversation, her attention being drawn to the young girl. [Name] turned to the young girl, putting her hand atop Sasha’s head. “I did sweetheart. I’m sorry.” She turns back to Madam Shaw “I apologize but I have to get her to bed.”

“No need to apologize, I completely understand” She waved [Name] off. “I will continue talking to you about it the next time we see one another.”

“Thank you.” [Name] fakely smiled, trying her hardest to get out of the conversation. She felt bad for leaving Sevika but she needed to get her daughter to bed. She quickly thanked Shoola for the party before leaving the room, heading to the elevator. 

When she entered the elevator, she noticed Sevika leaving the door that led to the party. She held the elevator door, allowing her to enter alongside them. “You didn’t want to hear more about her emerald mines?” [Name] joked.

Sevika did not seem amused. “I think I would’ve hit her if she said ‘if you become a beneficiary’ one more time.” 

“I did not think she would be so… Passionate about her mines.” [Name] said in her defense. Sasha stood in between them, trying to get a look at Sevika’s mechanical arm. 

“How was listening to that a good part in playing the game?” Sevika questioned.

“It put you on her radar. There’s no way she’s telling the whole truth about those mines. But she thinks you’re going to invest a massive amount of money. If she asks why you haven’t yet, you come up with some random reason, and if it is in her control, she’ll try to fix it in some sort of way.” [Name] explained.

“What happens when she realizes that you are never going to invest?” Sevika couldn’t lie, she was interested in seeing how all of this played out. She did believe that the higher ups in Piltover were scummy and constantly trying to play one another, she thought that [Name] was acting like she knew more than she did.

The elevator reached the bottom floor. The doors opened, and they all walked out, heading to the main entrance.

“You invest the smallest amount, promising you will invest more once things are better.” [Name] shrugged. “And you use that same strategy on everyone you come across.”

“That’s stupid.” Sevika said with a big huff. She didn’t necessarily like [Name] but she was the most bearable out of the council.

They exit the building, about to go their own ways. Sasha didn’t know when she would see the woman again and really wanted to know what she looked like under the cloak. “I want to see your metal arm.” She said out of nowhere.

“You have to ask and say please.” [Name] told her daughter. She then looked up to Sevika mouthing ‘You don’t have to.’

“Can I please see your metal arm?” Sasha asked properly this time.

With a sigh Sevika pulled the cloak back, revealing her newest arm. “Woah!” Sasha shouted getting closer to Sevika while inspecting the arm. She thought it was the coolest thing. She reached her hand out to touch it but was quickly stopped by her mother.

“Sasha, she said not to touch it earlier.” [Name] sternly reminded. Sasha made her way back to her mother, standing by her side, grabbing her hand. “How long have you had this for?” [Name] questioned, not even knowing that it was under there. She didn’t believe her daughter when she said “metal arm”

“I had this one made a few weeks ago.” She dodged around the question [Name] asked.

[Name] nodded, realizing that it was a sensitive topic. She knew she needed to leave soon, but she needed to get to the real point of why she invited Sevika and hung around her most of the night. 

Remembering how Sevika looked at her earlier, she took a slow step closer, kind of trying to seduce her. She felt bad to do it but she too was a player in the game. “Have you changed your mind about helping me with the materials from the Hex Gate?”

Sevika knew she was getting played. The way [Name] was leaning towards her with her chest, the way her bottom lip was puffed out and her eyes were pleading. If they were in the undercity, she would’ve shown her what happens when you try to seduce Sevika. But they weren’t, and her child was a step behind her. 

“I’ll think about it.” She snarled, not liking that [Name] was in fact persuading her. 

She watched as [Name]’s lips turned into a smile of victory. “Thank you. If you change your mind please let me know as soon as possible!” 

Grabbing Sasha’s hand, she began to walk away from Sevika. Sevkia stood there, still not being able to understand how she was persuaded so easily. Her eyes were drawn back to her ass as she walked. 

Almost as if [Name] could tell Sevika was staring, she looked back as Sevika, giving a cocky smirk and a wink, before continuing down the street. Sevika huffed before turning around, going her own way home.

It’s not that she disagrees with the plan of using the materials to better the life of Zaunites, she doesn’t trust [Name]’s intentions. [Name] went on and on about how you need to manipulate others and think things are for their benefit, but she thinks the biggest person she needs to worry about is [Name].

Once [Name] got home. She quickly got Sasha dressed for bed and tucked her in. Drawing herself a bath, she needed to think, and that is best done by soaking in warm water. Laying in the tub, she tried to think of the best course of action that the council would agree with. Her thoughts turned to Sevika, hoping that she would help with this, knowing way more about Zaun then her. 

Her thoughts quickly turned to how Sevika looked at her at the party. The image of her face ingrained in [Name]’s brain. She enjoyed the attention, enjoyed feeling wanted, even if it was pure sexual desire. It was nothing she had experienced before.

But then she reminded herself of how she used that against Sevika, and was quickly embarrassed by her actions, even though they seemed to work on her. The thought of Sevika taking that action in the wrong way haunted her. 

She could no longer plan out anything, her thoughts being consumed by Sevika. She gave up trying to work, climbing into bed. Shutting her eyes tightly she tried her hardest to push the thoughts out of her mind.

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Overall Masterlist

Discord link

[steppingonyourshadow]

Complete translations of song concept blurbs for Xiao Zhan's album Wo Men

These are provided by Xiao Zhan Studio with each track and sourced from QQ Music.

We (track 2)

With the continued development of civilised society, we keep advancing as a species. Everyone appears to live within constraints of common morality, following the herd, hoping they're upholding kindness, trying to live a life of virtue. But no matter what stage we're at, no one can avoid personally experiencing every facet of humanity. How can we maintain a strong and stubborn passion for life and become an invincible "good person"?

All Alike (track 3)

Life is like a street path on which we are all tourists, passing each other by in a rush. Most of life's troubles, perhaps our past anxiety, loneliness, lack of direction, every person paralysed for a moment by indecision, all the difficulty and happiness, it's "all alike". Once we're able to take it all in, we still have to keep going, having explored and reflected on all our possibilities. A quick pause doesn't mean we stop moving forward.

Recover (track 4)

We often put on an immaculate shell, armour ourselves and hide our weak spots. Those masks all cover the marks of being knocked around and honed into shape. Those who are trapped by the past hide their scars and become used to saying one thing and thinking another. Face our true inner feelings, don't run from them, learn to accept ourselves. Return "me" to me, to become a better "me".

Firefly (track 5)

The faint glimmer of a firefly at night might be weak, but it's still a reliable source of light, just like the mass of humanity. Through every lit-up screen, these "fireflies" with their faint glow gather strength and emerge into public view, lighting up their own world. Interacting with the world, providing balance to my pride, knowledge when I'm unaware, encouragement when I'm at a loss.

The song makes use of elements such as pedal, the sound of breathing, strings, and piano with a strong "woody" undertone, evoking flickers of embers from burning firewood. Just like the meaning it wishes to express - even the faintest bioluminescence can illuminate the dark and become an indispensable light.

Drifting (track 6)

After experiencing an unknown past, "I" woke in unfamiliar surroundings, marvelous and strange. My wandering journey began here. A stranger in a strange land, should I fear being infiltrated in return or bravely venture forth? In the unknown, there are wonders, dangers, eye-opening sights. It's dazzling, beautiful, tempting, but how do I keep myself from being swallowed up by it and becoming a puppet? By remembering where I came from, and doing my utmost to reach the destination I wish to reach. At the intersection where it's difficult to tell dreamscape from reality, how do I keep from following the herd?

Lighthouse (track 7)

Alone in the middle of the ocean, the lighthouse, the only beacon among the crashing waves, reminds us that on life's path there will always be ups and downs. As a small ship venturing forward, we never know when we might encounter stormy weather. Go into the headwind, unafraid of the wind and the rain, with only the lighthouse in your heart to provide illumination and point the way to our destination.

The swirl of the guitar in the song's arrangement is like the sea, never ceasing, the piano is the glow of the lighthouse in the middle of the ocean, and the vocal is the ship. Whether we're faced with glorious sunlight or a sudden downpour, wishing for us the courage to keep pushing forward.

Soliloquy of the Night Time Wanderer (track 8)

After a busy day of work, do you ever feel lonely while making your own way home? Having moved our social lives online, swiping from one small screen to the next, refreshing and clicking like endlessly, consuming bite-sized content, experiencing a little buzz of companionship through your fingertips. All those lit up screens brighten up our nighttime life in the city. When we rely on the simulated communication of online life, it's as if we're stepping into a wider world. Sometimes walking at night isn't a choice. Perhaps feelings that cannot be hidden like fear and cowardice surround and trap everyone who have no choice but to walk through the night. When the seductive bustle of the night cools and dissipates and the world goes quiet, wishing that every night-time wanderer can find a place to lay their emotional burdens to rest.

Return to Zero (track 9)

Both the wind howling past and the fog gathering on your brow and obscuring your vision are unique encounters on your journey. Looking back, those previously obscured traces gradually appear and become clearer. The song's arrangement creates a quiet but warm atmosphere, the chilly synth paired with strings push the listener toward a time travelling wormhole, returning it all to the beginning, back to the very start. Would you still be as staunch? The path here through glory, obstacles and rejection, all those things make up the you of today. You can look forward to the future, wave goodbye to the past freely. Wishing for you always the courage to return to zero and start from the beginning.

Don't Look Back (track 10)

This song is "my" personal narrative, but it's not only mine. "Don't Look Back" is addressed to me and for every listener. The path ahead might feature aspirations, companionship, bright eyes watching. Carefully, we attempt battle with the world, with highs and lows, scrapes and bruises, unavoidable hesitation and disappointment. But please don't look back, if you move forward, you can scale mountains, cross oceans and see endless beautiful scenery, or pause to enjoy the spice of life. Having arrived here, wherever you go in the future, you will have all your accumulated experiences to call on.

The song's arrangement wants to express through its layered progression the narrator's immovable core. What's ahead may not be an open plain, but it will be an endless path. Just go forward, don't look back.

Good Night (track 11)

On a sleepless night, go out for a midnight snack with company, have some noodles and a bowl of soup. Through the wafting steam, listen quietly to your companion make excited or chill small talk. In this concrete jungle of a city, solitude is our default state, and the ability to process our own sorrows and joys a hard-earned freedom.

As the end point of all the disparate emotions that make up the record, the seemingly melancholy backdrop is filled in with warmth and caring, and understanding of the way humans relate to each other. Learning, growing, hurrying through life for decades on end, no matter what we're after, wishing that on the path forward you have food that suits your palate, warm greetings, and precious understanding and companionship to fill the gaps in each of our hearts. After a busy day, wish yourself and the family or friends by your side a good night.

[koqabear]

currently watching someone go through liking my entire masterlist and not reblog a single thing

[duketectivecomics]

‘Jason was Duke’s robin’ ‘tim was dukes robin’ YOURE ALL FOOLS

Steph as dukes most formative robin is RIGHT THERE

[bunnieswithknives]

You know, considering that Dale has a big interest in anything that can make him money

Would he use his newfound form to make a profit?

I feel as though, if it was Dev who got that bite, he'd totally use it for profit. Be it filming Dev like he's filming a odd dog, or caging him like he's some sort of attraction.

Oh, imagine all the promotions he could do! All the money he could make! All for the low low price of sacrificing his son

Too bad it wasn't Dev who got bit though

As addicted to money as Dale this is, quite literally, his worst nightmare come to life. He is horrified by his body and the idea of letting anybody see him like this is too mortifying to bare. not to mention he fully believes this is direct punishment for his actions.

As for using Dev a money making tool like that... horrifyingly, he probably would if he could get away with hiding that it was his child. That being said this never would have happened to Dev.