#btw i love their body language in both of these so much. yes i made the sandwich but listen. Wolf is so protective always

[magnolia-sunrise]

okay i had to go deal with some black mold situation but now i can sit down and talk about it ----, due to the somewhat similar pose i was reminded of this piece from last year, that at the time cost a lot of time and effort and was the ultimate nail in the coffin of succumbing to the OC insanity

and! im really happy about what i managed to do with it then, but also haha holy fuck! i love my painting process now and how much it has evolved! i feel very happy with the brushes ive been experimenting with and how much better i feel ive gotten about conceptualizing values and light. very proud of how far i've come in terms of painting these two :")

yapper's delight corner: side by side these are kind of After and Before a life changing event for the two of them,

todays piece, ie Before: as in Wolfgang suspects they might be walking into an ambush following their latest lead, and they stop by Bastien's clinic for - something? anything. a reason to stay. after their routine check up and memory upload, they push in for a kiss and while at first Bastien gives in,... he doesnt let himself act on his feelings or let himself have something he wants (partially due to the loyalty he feels to his boyfriend, largely because he's unable to commit and make the decision to change his life so much). so, rejected for one final time, Wolfgang walks off into the night and to their doom.

what that night spurs - Wolfs violent death and beheading, the clinic and all of its precious materials torched with Wolfgang's body tossed inside as a message, Bastien finding them and driving away with their body without saying a word to his boyfriend-- nothing can ever go back to the way it was.

and there's the After, from last year: back when painting this i didn't have a solid idea for continuation of their story past this point basically Until i finished the painting and i got some visions thanks to my playlists. to keep it short, their death doesn't stick for too long (just. a couple months of Bastien driving with their lifeless body in the backseat) and the two of them are set on a very dangerous path, the burned remains of their lives behind them. but - it's the most alive both of them have ever felt : )

[colonelarr0w]

Hiiii i really like reading some angst stuffs so heres my idea loll!

What about reader never felt like they were ever loved romantically and has been quite the loner for a while. So, to have Gojo confess to the reader has reader confused, but quite happy, but will soon find out that its a dare and Gojo only has the end of the year to make reader date him! (Just say the current month is near december loll)

But as time goes by, Gojo starts to actually have feelings for reader and suddenly reader overheard their convo of Gojo with his friends about the dare...

(PLS IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO SPECIFIC THISIS ONE OF MY FIRST TIMES REQUESTING SMTHHH. BTW YOU CAN CHANGE THE GOJO TO ANYONE ELSE :3AND ALSO YOU CAN CHOOSE WETHER TO HAVE COMFORT OR NAH. AND THANKS FOR GIVING YOUR TIME TO READ THIS HAVE A NICE DAYY)

-🍰

Sypnosis - Gojo was already known to be a heartbreaker, but you didn't stop to think for a second that maybe -- just maybe -- he was trying to break your heart too.

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, Gojo is a MAJOR dick in this one, angst

Word Count - 3.1k

A/N - Hi Anon! (STOP IM CRYING I LOVE EMOJI ANONS SO MUCH) So you made the mistake of giving me an angst prompt while also saying that I could maybe add comfort. I will be doing no such thing. Kisses!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Satoru Gojo was, by every single standard, a lady’s man.  

And you, by every single standard, were the complete opposite of every man’s “ideal type”. 

How you managed to find yourself in a situation where you told others, “I’m dating Satoru Gojo,” felt like a fever dream constructed by the hardest drug.  

The way in which he asked you out was — well — Satoru Gojo. A grand white banner with your name scrawled into it, underneath it the words: Go out with me?  

Of course you accepted, though you were thoroughly confused. You had always been an observer from the shadows, not emerging unless it was absolutely necessary.  

To have the Satoru Gojo ask you out in front of a gaggle of people was off putting — and certainly not anything that you had expected.  

But none of that stopped you from saying yes, which made the snowy-haired male’s smile widen three times in size — if that was even possible.  

“C’mon Satoru, it’s an easy 2,500 Yen,” Geto says, a sly smirk curling the corner of his mouth upward as he leans over the back of the couch. 

Gojo sighs, jutting out his bottom lip as one of his hands busies itself with running through his hair. It wasn’t a terrible bet — even though the payoff didn’t exactly feel worth it.  

“2,500 Yen to ask her out?” Gojo confirms, turning his head and glancing over the rims of his glasses. Geto smirks again, turning his phone and flashing a picture of you at Gojo, just to make sure that he would be asking out the right person. 

“2,500 Yen,” Geto nods. Gojo sighs, his body slumping forward dramatically. Geto grins again, watching his best friend crack down — no way was he turning down a bet that he could easily secure. 

“Fine, you have a deal,” Gojo holds his hand out, failing to hold back the smirk that curls his mouth upward as Geto slaps his hand against Gojo’s. 

The two shake on it, and the bet is made. 

But, of course, you were oblivious to all of that. You believed that, for the very first time, someone looked at you in a way that wasn’t strictly platonic. Someone loved you — really, truly loved you. 

And what an extravagant partner Gojo was, buying you small trinkets that he believed you would like, taking you to restaurants that you had looked at on the street for a moment too long — he had even forced himself to learn how to ice skate because you mentioned offhandedly that it would be nice to skate with someone.  

For the first time in a very long time, you felt connected to someone. Conversations flowed so easily between you both, never forced or uncomfortable. It was as if you had known each other your entire lives.  

Gojo knew that it was fake — you thought it was truly real.  

< … > 

“(Y/N)! There you are!” Gojo calls out with a flashy wave of his arm. Once you’re in reach of him, he latches onto you, nose nuzzling into your hair. 

You let out a startled squeak at the force of his body against yours, but immediately loosen up and return his embrace, snuggling as deeply as you can into his arms.  

“Satoru!” you laugh out breathlessly, squeezing his shoulders as he lifts you from the ground, easily spinning the both of you in a circle. “You act like you haven’t seen me in years.” 

Gojo rolls his eyes dramatically, setting you down but keeping his arms locked around your waist. He gaze meets yours through the darkened lenses of his glasses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.  

“Oh god, I know that look,” you mutter teasingly, which earns you an affectionate pinch to your side — one that you swat him away for.  

“You wound me,” Gojo sasses back, releasing you only to place a hand flat against his chest as if he had been stabbed. You roll your eyes, laughing breathily at his antics.  

“What do you want to do tonight? It’s date night,” you remind him, watching as his face breaks into a bright smile. He reaches for you again, lifting your hand and twirling you around before he tugs you to his chest. 

“I was thinking-“ he begins in a sing-song tone. You raise an eyebrow at him, which he quickly leans in to peck. “-we go to the movies, get some cheap froyo, and crash in your dorm.” 

You smile at him, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him. 

“Yes please!” 

< … > 

“The movies? Froyo? God, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re falling for her,” Geto mocks the motion of throwing up, earning a laugh from the snowy-haired boy that stands next to him.  

Gojo rolls his eyes, catching the basketball that Geto throws at his chest. He bounces it once against the ground before taking a shot, smirking as it swishes inaudibly into the basket.  

“I want her to at least believe it,” Gojo responds with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. Geto rolls his eyes, biting back the chuckle that rises in his throat. “What? I’m not lying.” 

“No, I know you’re not lying,” Geto bends to pick up the abandoned basketball, bouncing it against the ground and taking a shot of his own — which misses. 

“So then why the sudden comment?” 

“Because of the look in your eyes whenever someone mentions her or whenever you see her,” Geto says plainly, turning to cross his arms at Gojo.  

He purses his lips together, eyebrows pinching in confusion as he silently urges Geto to continue. How he looks at you? 

Geto sighs through his nose, then lifting his fingers to pinch at its bridge. The basketball is long abandoned now, rolling into the center of the gym and remaining there.  

“Every time she calls out to you with that — stupid nickname, you brighten up like a dog who’s seeing his owner,” Geto points out. Gojo can feel the tips of his ears burn red at that — because even he knew that it was true. 

“Toru! There you are!” you call out affectionately, crossing the training fields and practically jumping into Gojo’s awaiting arms. 

He smiles warmly as your face nestles into the junction between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the familiarity of your scent and holding you close to him. 

“That isn’t true,” he murmurs, scratching at the back of his neck. Geto stands still for a moment, staring at Gojo with a look that could easily slaughter an entire town.  

“No? How about when she made you lunch that one time?” Geto raises his eyebrow — his eyes visually calling bullshit as Gojo’s cheeks burn the same shade of red as his ears.  

“Ta-da!” you smile widely as you present Gojo with the intricately put-together bento box. He takes it from your hands, allowing his fingers to brush against your own for a moment too long — an action that brought a light blush to your cheeks.  

He smiles down at the bento you had prepared for him, feeling his heart swell at the idea that someone cared enough about him to sit down and put so much thought into preparing him a lunch. Gojo is quick to then lean in, pecking your cheek and smiling widely at the dark red hue that coats your face. 

“That’s…different,” Gojo tries to argue, but Geto is quick to call out his bluff, laughing loudly in his friend’s face and striding towards the center of the gym to retrieve the abandoned basketball. He bends, scooping it into his palms and bouncing it twice against the ground.  

“Oh, I’m sure that it is,” Geto rolls his eyes, twisting his body and shooting the basketball — already displaying annoyance when it misses yet again.  

Gojo sighs, the puff of air he releases blowing his bangs from his face. He watches as Geto goes to retrieve the basketball, bouncing it once before roughly checking it to Gojo.  

“Careful Satoru, I wouldn’t want you to fall for her,” Geto teases, feeling himself smirk as Gojo’s hands catch the basketball. The snowy-haired male rolls his eyes in response, bouncing the ball. 

“That won’t happen, trust me,” Gojo bites back, not failing to notice the knowing glint in Geto’s eyes.  

“Sure it won’t.” 

< … > 

Hey! I’m at the theatre, where are you? 

READ 

Satoru? 

READ 

I’m just assuming you’re running late, just text me when you’re here! 

DELIVERED 

Puffing out the air that you held in your cheeks, you stow your phone away into your pocket, eyes silently scanning the front entrance of the theatre. Maybe you missed him? No, there was no tuft of snowy-white hair anywhere in the crowd — surely he was just running late.  

You shuffle on your feet, adjusting the small bag that you had brought with you. The interior is stuffed with snacks that both you and Gojo enjoyed — including his favorite from the local convenience store. You smile to yourself, already picturing the wide smile that would cross his face when you presented him with the snacks.  

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, which you all but dive for with a speed that feels almost inhuman. You stare down at the illuminated screen, heart deflating as you realize it’s only a message from your mother, checking in and asking you how your date with Gojo was going.  

Lifting a shaky hand to your eyes, you wipe away the tears that cling to your bottom lash line. You text your mother back, lying to her about the state of the date and pushing your phone back into your pockets. You glance back down at your open purse, blinking back your tears at the sight of the snacks — what a waste. 

< … >  

“Sato—“ 

You pause just outside of the classroom doors, resting your palms against the sliding door and peering curiously inside. Your eyebrows pinch together, eyes narrowing as you listen intently to the conversation shared between Gojo and Geto, both of whom seemed to be in the middle of — maybe — arguing with one another.  

“How much longer am I keeping this up for?” Gojo all but whines, leaning back in the seat that he was occupying, his feet propped up on the desk as he releases an annoyed huff.  

Geto chuckles, rubbing a hand over his face as he sits on the desk directly in front of Gojo, folding his legs over one another and smirking down at his best friend. Gojo sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face as he leans forward, his sunglasses slightly slipping down the bridge of his nose.  

“Why? Getting bored?” Geto raises an eyebrow at Gojo, lifting his arms to cross them firmly over his chest. Gojo rolls his eyes yet again, releasing a deepened sigh that only has Geto releasing the chuckle that he had been holding in.  

“I’m getting tired,” Gojo mocks a dramatic yawn, throwing his arms into the air and leaning back in his chair. Geto raises an eyebrow at the answer, curious now. 

“Tired?” 

“Exhausted. I don’t think you understand Suguru, she’s so desperately clingy and just — I can’t keep up with it,” Gojo explains in exasperation, rubbing his hands over his face and digging his fingers into the skin of this temples, rubbing them in slow circles.  

You feel your heart crack the more that Gojo speaks — listening quietly as he lists off all of the things that he seemingly hates about you. Your eyes burn with tears, and suddenly every ounce of love that you ever felt for Gojo seep out of you in waves. 

Had he felt that way about you the whole time? 

“Hey, you were the one that said yes. You could’ve dropped the bet,” Geto shrugs his shoulders, an action that earns him an annoyed kick from Gojo.  

“It’s 2,500 Yen. I’m not saying no to that,” Gojo reminds his friend, waving a finger in his face. Geto chuckles breathily, but pauses at an unfamiliar sound — a choked cry. His head whips around in an attempt to locate the source of the sound, feeling his heart drop to the deepest depths of his stomach at the sight of a retreating figure by the classroom's doors.  

Gojo follows Geto's wandering gaze, eyebrows knitting together in confusion at the sudden change in his friend's facial expression. "Shit." Is all that Geto says before he moves to the door, peering out of it just in time to see your figure turn the farthest corner of the hallway – then vanishing.  

Geto's eyes flicker to meet Gojo's as the latter leans his chin onto Geto's shoulder, staring at the spot that you had just disappeared from.  

"What happened?" Gojo inquires curiously, not failing to notice the way that Geto's spine stands as stiff as cardboard. The dark-haired male swallows the lump in his throat – they were both royally fucked.  

"We're fucked." 

< ... >  

"There, there, c'mon (Y/N), don't let this--" 

"He lied to me!" You rub your hands roughly over your tear-filled eyes, feeling your chest tighten as you look away from Utahime's concerned gaze. Her eyebrows furrow together in worry, eyes silently taking you in as you curl into yourself.  

She would be lying if she said that she wasn't downright pissed at what Gojo had done to you. After listening to your tearful ramble about what you heard, any and all respect that she had for her snowy-haired classmate went completely out of the window. 

Not that there was much respect there in the first place.  

"So how much of what he said did he actually mean?" Your voice is a broken cry, trembling in a way that has Utahime reaching out to comfortingly lace her fingers with your own.  

"I don't know," she whispers in response, not knowing how to help you. You turn your head away from her, sniffing and wiping your nose with the cloth of your sleeve. "I'm sorry (Y/N)." 

You shake your head, breath trembling as you grip at your knees. You screw your eyes shut, still seeing his affectionate smile behind your eyelids – you wish that you could forget it completely. You can still feel him too; you can feel his arms wrapped around you and his lips as they press affectionately to your cheek.  

You begin to wonder how much effort he actually put into your dates, you begin to wonder if his affectionate touches were genuine, you begin to wonder if it was him writing his text messages out or if it was someone else entirely. Did he ever care about you? 

"Hey." 

You glance up at Utahime, sniffling quietly as she reaches a hand out, laying her palm against your cheek and thumbing away the stray tears that roll down your cheeks. Her heart breaks at the sight of you – but her heart also yells angrily at the idea that Gojo would toy with you for a measly 2,500 Yen.  

She knew that he was an asshole – everyone did. But she didn't think he was that big of an asshole.  

"How about me and you go out? I'll even text Mei Mei and Shoko," Utahime offers, smiling again at you. You sniffle, cheeks reddened by your tears. Your eyes are puffy, lashes still wet with tears that take their sweet time in dripping down your face.  

"Can we stay in instead?"  

Utahime nods, smiling again at you. Her arms extend, wrapping around you and tugging you into her chest, squeezing affectionately at you. You sink into her embrace, face pressed comfortably into her shoulder.  

"Yeah, of course we can." 

< ... >  

"You're such a dick!" Utahime yells in a fit of rage, shoving her hands against Gojo's chest and glaring daggers at him as he stumbles backwards. He stares at her incredulously, eyebrows raised to a point that his forehead is wrinkled five times over.  

He hadn't expected this behavior from the usually calm and collected girl – but the way that she had stormed at him screaming her head off told him that he had royally screwed up.  

Over his shoulder, Geto watches knowingly. He knows that he'll likely be yelled at too, so in mental preparation, he remains completely silent, not wanting Utahime to turn her rage on him prematurely.  

"What is this about?" Gojo asks genuinely, his eyes narrowed in confusion as Utahime angrily takes a step back from him, restraining herself from actively strangling him.  

"What is this – so you just have no idea what you did to (Y/N)? God, you're dense!" Utahime all but screams, throwing her hands up in a fit of rage. 

Gojo narrows his eyes, then they widen – shit. How the fuck did you find out? 

"What do you mean?" He pauses for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What about (Y/N)?" 

"Oh, don't act so clueless! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Utahime jabs a finger at Gojo's chest, her eyes burning with a rage that he had genuinely never seen in her before. She takes a brave step towards him – in return, he takes a step back.  

"I don't--" 

"Does 2,500 Yen sound familiar to you?" Utahime raises an eyebrow at him. He deadpans, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and feeling his heart sink.  

His silence tells her everything that she needs to know. She straightens, shooting a pointed glare to Geto as well – resulting in him looking anywhere but her direction, gaze flickering around wildly.  

She turns her attention back to Gojo, looking him up and down with an expression of nothing but pure disgust. He winces at the glint in her eyes – God, he had really screwed up.  

"You're both disgusting," Utahime spits venomously, then turning on her heel and promptly striding away from both males. Gojo turns, exchanging a worried yet remorseful glance in Geto's direction. His friend only swallows, they had both royally screwed up. 

< ... >  

Gojo suffered with the aftermath of you hearing his conversation – you avoided him like he had been infected with some kind of infectious disease. Any room he entered, you exited. Any time he called out your name with a polite wave, you turned your nose up and continued walking.  

In a way, you pretended that he simply didn't exist – that the person waving to you or trying to interact with you was nothing but a phantom, one that you ignored as if it was the only thing that you knew how to do.  

"(Y/N)! Hey, can we--" 

You stride past him, shoulder knocking against his own as you exit the classroom. He stands silently at its center, lowering his hand back to his side – he had wanted to reach out for you, but something inside of him told him to simply leave you be.  

And the day that he saw you happily hanging off of Nanami's arm was the day that he realized – loving someone from afar was the worst pain of all.  

[revasserium]

hiii can i pls request zayne with prompt 60 “home”? also love ur writing btw and i look forward to reading more of ur works <333

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble

60. home

zayne; 2,264 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, fade to black, zayne being a simp as per usual

summary: a friday afternoon

a/n: idk i just love writing dialogue for zayne he's so !!!!

The Hospital - Friday, 4:36PM

Linoleum floors and fluorescent lights; the smell of antiseptic, the rhythmic beeps and hums of heart rate monitors and nebulizer machines. He spends too much time here, knows the flow of the hospital like he knows the web of arteries and capillaries in the human body, the wards branching off of each other, the hustle and bustles of nurses and staff familiar, oppressive.

It is only in the quiet of his own office, with its big windows and even bigger piles of paperwork (be it virtual or physical), that he ever allows himself to relax. He glances at the vase of brightly colored tulips on his desk and allows himself a grin. He remembers the shape of you, can feel the weight of your hand in his as you’d tugged him around the farmer’s market on Sunday morning, pointing at the various vendors, asking to try a bite of this and a bit of that, until finally, you’d come across the flower seller — a middle-aged woman with a sweet smile and a gleeful glint in her eyes as she explained about the language of flowers.

“There’s sunshine in your smile,” you’d repeated, looking down at the yellow tulips before grinning up at Zayne.

“Perfect for you, isn’t it?”

He could hear the tease in your voice, see that familiar playful twinkle in your eyes and he’d raised an eyebrow before wordlessly handing over a few bills from his wallet.

And now the flowers sit, quiet save for all their brilliance, on his desk, in a simple vase filled with crystal-clear water. He stares at it for a second longer before pulling out his phone and swiping it open to your contact.

Coming home early today, he texts. Immediately, a typing bubble appears, and a second later, a short shoomp sound as your reply appears on his screen —

oh? dr. zayne leaving work early??? is the sun setting in the east today?

He chuckles to himself before dialing your line and a second later, your voice answers, a little hesitant.

“Hello?”

“If you’re going to be sarcastic, at least do it in person.”

Shuffling noises, and then — “Not my fault you’re never around for me to be mean to you in person.”

Zayne leans back in his chair with a sigh, “Hn. How’s shopping with Tara?”

“Fun! But my legs are getting tired…”

“I can meet you at the main shopping center around 5:30.”

A moment of quiet, and then “Ah… but that’s still an hour from now…”

Zayne scoffs, “I could stay till 7PM like I usually do —”

“No, no! That’s… that’s not what I meant — I’ll see you at 5:30, then? Don’t be late!”

You end the call before he can protest and for a second, Zayne stares at the screen, the picture of your smiling face fading after another few seconds as the phone screen darkens.

“Doctor? Your next patient is here,” the nurse calls through his closed door.

“Yes, I’ll be right there.” Zayne glances once more at the yellow tulips on his desk before pushing himself up and adjusting his white coat. He’ll have to make a note to change the water soon.

City Center Shopping Mall - Friday, 5:38PM

“You made it!”

Zayne turns at the sound of your voice to find you slightly breathless as you jog up to him, coming to a stop a few steps away.

“You sound surprised.”

A blush dusts your cheeks as you avert your eyes, “I — I’m not! I just thought… you might be a bit later than this.”

Zayne keeps his expression neutral even as he reaches out to take your hand, casually lacing his fingers between yours. He feels you give him a small squeeze and contents himself with letting you take the lead as the pair of you start to wander through the mall, glancing at the window displays.

“Oh… that smells good!” you both pause as the smell of scallions and garlic warms the air. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, “I think it’s coming from that restaurant over there! Tara was telling me that it just opened a week ago and it’s already going viral online for their stuffed pancakes —”

“C’mon then.” Zayne starts off for the restaurant.

“W-wait! We don’t have a reservation! We’ll never get in!”

Zayne keeps walking, gently tugging you behind him till you both round the corner to see a truly impressive line outside the restaurant doors. He walks passed the massive line straight to the front where a smiling girl in a flowery apron stands at an electronic podium, taking down the names of the next party in line.

“Is Liam here?”

“O-oh! Uhm, I think so!” the girl blinks, surprised as she looks down at her reservation list, “May I ask who’s asking?”

“Zayne.”

The girl nods as she slips into the restaurant. Beside him, you look up, confused.

“Do you know someone here?”

Zayne nods but doesn’t explain any further as the smiling girl comes back and motions for you both to follow her.

“Right this way Dr. Zayne! Enjoy your meal!”

Zayne gives your hand a small tug as you stumble after him, the confusion on your face blossoming into something like surprise as the pair of you duck into the bustling restaurant to be greeted by an enthusiastic young man, around Zayne’s age, his sleeves rolled up, a bandana tied around his forehead.

“Zayne! You should’ve told me you were coming!”

“It was a last-minute decision,” Zayne supplies, shaking Liam’s hand firmly, pulling you into his side even as Liam’s eyes slide onto you.

“Oh… is this the girl you were always talking about back in —”

“I think we’ll take a booth in the back, thanks,” Zayne cuts him off with a loud cough, already making for the back of the restaurant. Liam laughs good-naturedly, leading you both to a booth tucked in the very corner, away from most of the noise and bustle.

You inch into the booth, casting Zayne a curious look.

“Is that the owner? How do you know him?”

Zayne doesn’t look up as he glances over the menu before pushing it towards you.

“We went to medical school together. Pick anything you want, it’s all very good.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “And he decided to become a chef instead?”

Zayne’s lips twitch, “Is that so unbelievable?”

You shrug, looking down at the menu at last, pursing your lips, “No… it’s just… did he drop out of med school then?”

Zayne shakes his head, “No, he was one of the best in our year.”

“Oh. Then…?”

Zayne taps the menu, “I thought you were hungry.”

You blush, looking down, “I am!”

It’s not till the middle of the meal that Zayne speaks again —

“He said it didn’t make him happy.”

You look up, your cheeks bulging with food. Zayne watches you swallow with a concerted effort, reaching out to wipe at your lips with an indulgent smile even as you swat at his hand.

“Liam? About… being a doctor?”

“Yes. And… in a way, I understood him. He said that the kitchen’s always felt more like home.”

You purse your lips, looking at your half-eaten stuffed pancake.

“Then… does the hospital feel like home? To you?”

Zayne chuckles, leaning forward to add some more veggies to your bowl with his chopsticks.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Then…” you trail off, waiting for his answer. There’s a familiar color seeping into your cheeks as Zayne looks you over before his eyes flicker down to your bowl.

“Eat. Or else the veggies will go cold.”

Zayne’s Apartment - Friday, 7:01PM

“I’m so full!” you slump down onto his couch with a long sigh, patting your stomach.

“You were the one who wanted seconds of dessert,” Zayne says, hanging up his coat and turning to join you on the couch. You make a small noise as he lifts your legs and lays them across his lap, his thumbs absently digging into the backs of your calves.

“Ow…” you make to jerk your leg away as he hits a knot but he only grips your ankle and pulls it back with a soft tut.

“Hold still.”

You bury your face in one of the couch cushions as he continues to silently knead at your calf muscles.

“There, better?” his voice is soft now, tugging on the frayed ends of your subconscious as you turn your head to blink at him, a bit dazed.

“Yeah… lots better. Thanks.”

You make to get up but he loops an arm around your back and lifts you easily from the couch, bridal style.

“Zayne?”

“You’re staying the night, right?” he asks, even as he makes for the bedroom.

“I — I am?”

He glances down at your face as he sets you down on his bed.

“I can still drive you home if you want —” He makes to pull away.

“No! I — I can stay. I mean — I want to stay.” You reach up to tug at his shirt, fingers crumpling the material as he stills. You can feel your cheeks blazing as his gaze flickers over your face before settling on your lips.

“Alright then.”

There’s a breath’s pause before you give his shirt another tentative tug and he tips forward with the motion, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

A soft groan bubbles out of you as Zayne presses you back and back and back, until he’s caged over you, trailing hot lips down the line of your neck, skimming his teeth along your collarbones.

“Mm — Z-Zayne…?”

He pulls back, his eyes a bit unfocused as he looks you over — you can feel the weight of his gaze as it flutters over the planes and ridges of your face, from the arch of your brows to the line of your nose. You can’t help blushing beneath this intense scrutiny, and you tug once more at his shirt, your fingers somehow having inched up to his collar, one of your fingers hooked into the top loop of his buttons.

He reaches up to cover your hand with his, fingers easily curling around your smaller hand.

“What is it?”

You lick your lips, stomach twisting, the base rumble of his voice sending shivers shaking through your body.

“Nothing just… I don’t remember you drinking at dinner so…”

He leans down to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand before dropping it back to his shirt collar.

“No, but… alcohol’s not the only thing that might cause someone to lose hold of their senses…”

You watch as his eyes darken at your intake of breath, the way his grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly.

“Then…” you swallow, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his lips trail back up your neck to your jaw.

“Are you going to make me say it?”

You let out a tiny whimper as he presses a leg up between yours, his breath now hot against the lobe of your ear.

“Say… what?”

Zayne pulls back just far enough to cock an eyebrow at you. And like this, you’ve never seen anything so alluring — the sight of him with his shirt tugged open, his eyes blown dark with desire, his hair slightly mussed from your eager fingers, his lips kissed pink, his cheeks warm with color.

“Hn. Is this my punishment then?”

“For what?”

“For being late to meet you.”

You fight back a grin, “Well… you did say I could be mean to you in person.”

Zayne lets out a sigh, “Alright then.”

You walk your fingers up his chest before pushing him back till you’re both sitting up again. He waits patiently for you to push him down and straddle his hips, slowly tugging open the buttons of his shirt, loosening his tie till it hangs undone around his neck. You lean in to press a soft kiss to his chest and revel in the way he hisses.

His fingers reach up for your hips and you catch them with a quick shake of your head.

“No touching… not till I say.”

Zayne stares at you for a second before relaxing and letting his hands fall back onto the sheets.

And it’s not until you lean down to kiss at his exposed abdomen that he groans, head tipping back. Then, a second later, you find yourself pinned beneath him, breathless, Zayne towering over you with parted lips, the moon casting stark shadows along the lines of his face.

“I said you could be mean… I didn’t say I wouldn’t retaliate.”

After, when the pair of you are curled into each other like pieces of jigsaw puzzle that’s finally found its missing parts, his breath warm along the nape of your neck, Zayne finds himself smiling.

“It’s always been you…” he murmurs, though he’s nearly certain you’re already asleep, your breathing sweet and level, your body pliant and perfect against his.

He laces his hands between yours and drops a soft kiss onto the skin of your bare shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter what I do… or where I do it… because my home has always been… you.”

[paintedonmyteeth]

AHH HII!!! saw the mr crawling fic u posted and it's adorable :(( can i please have a mr crawling x reader where they have a condition that makes them sleepy? andAND because of this, sometimes they do strange things like, for example, talking non coherently, sleeping in weird places and having tics while sleeping!! i really want some fluff with this man...... *holds my hands out like a poor victorian child*

As always, take your time!! your aesthetic and work is genuinely really good!! you are great at this <3 mwahmwah. 🐁

Mr Crawling and Narcoleptic!reader

A/N: *shakes you violently* OMG ANON YOU'RE A GENIUS you just made my day with this btw — ask and ye shall receive >:)) As for the condition I think you might be asking for a Narcoleptic reader or something of those lines but YEAH I can totally do that, here you go, mini oneshot for you 🫵🏻🫵🏻

Summary: Mr Crawling’s been noticing some weird behaviours from you lately for the past few days and it’s both funny and worrying, are you okay???

WARNING: This is set after the Blissful Love Life ending, if you don’t want spoilers then keep scrolling!

It’s been little over a few days now since you and Mr. Crawling escaped his world, and the two of you were perfectly settled together at your place. Mr. Crawling so far’s been pretty happy overall, getting to stay home with you in your world and has grown pretty attached to you. But, as of lately, he’s been noticing some…'strange' behaviours from you.

You seemed to be more sluggish when moving around the house and sleepy, he even found you crashed in the bathroom, at your desk, and other places in the house. He found the sight to be cute but at the same time it was also getting a little worrisome.

Were humans always this sleepy?? He’s never seen you this sleepy when the both of you were still in his world. Well, maybe he did a few times without realizing it, but he failed to pick up on it.

He even caught you mumbling incoherent things and twitching in your sleep while the two of you were cuddled up in bed. He thought you were hurting somewhere whenever he felt you quivering in his arms, which made him hug you tighter and run his fingers through your hair, trying to soothe you. It was another day done of hours of work when you came back home, had food, and shortly went to bed with Mr. Crawling following after you like a lost puppy. Considering how exhausted you were from work, you passed out in seconds the moment you flopped onto the bed.

Later in the night, Mr. Crawling was curled up under the covers, with you spooned in his arms, the bedroom completely pitch black with the curtains drawn closed and there was a comfortable silence that filled the room. His arms were wrapped securely around you in a comforting squeeze, he nuzzled his face into the back of your neck, inhaling your scent for a moment and he instinctively squeezed you a little tighter. Relishing in the warmth your body radiated...

The silence then was suddenly broken when he heard you mumbling things in a slurred tone, (unfortunately he picked up little words he could understand considering he still had a lot to learn with your language), and he could feel your muscles twitching once in awhile. Mr. Crawling however grew worried again, he lied there uncertain if he should try to wake you up or not. He didn’t want you getting cranky or annoyed for waking you up, but this was really starting to bug him and he wanted to help.

Mr. Crawling began to shake you gently to rouse you from your slumber, but you weren’t budging much, so he shook you a tad harder. “Human? Wake?” He murmured quietly. It took him another few tries until you started to stir from your sleep and you shifted in his arms to your discomfort.

“Mmn?… Mr. Crawling?….” You mumbled out quietly, your words sounding slurred in your half-asleep state.

Oh, good, you’re not mad. “Human hurt? Why twitching in sleep?” Mr. Crawling questioned, his fingers curled into the fabric of your night shirt. “Me worry, me want to help.”

You shifted under the covers again and you turned over to face Mr. Crawling, stretching your legs in a sluggish manner and your muscles relaxed. “I’m okay bud, I’m not hurt,…” Your words trailed off for a moment, straining back another yawn and your fingers found their way into Mr. Crawling’s hair, gently patting him. “It’s just my narcolepsy acting up, nothing to worry about…”

Narcolepsy?

Of course the term sounded unfamiliar to Mr. Crawling’s ears, “Narc-lep-see?…” He repeated, confused. As you could feel yourself slowly slipping in and out of unconsciousness, you did your best to try and explain your condition to Mr. Crawling. Mr. Crawling failed grasp much of it (in complicating terms-wise), but he seemed to understand it was something that made you very sleepy throughout the day. He also had the look of disappointment when you mentioned it was incurable, surely it could be fixable. If Mr. Silvair was here he might’ve found a way!

Before Mr. Crawling could even ask more questions about it, you were now unresponsive and had drifted off to sleep. He couldn’t be mad at you (not like he would anyways), he did abruptly wake you up after all. So he decided to keep quiet and save the rest of his questions for the morning, his arms fastened around you again and he rests his chin on the top of your head. Intently listening to your soft breathing and the dark noise of the bedroom that filled his ears. From this point on starting tomorrow, he’ll do the best he can to help you out…

[cozage]

Gm!! I saw your inbox was open!! I was hoping to request something with Sanji, Ace n Franky with a selective mute (gender neutral) reader talking to them through their voice for the first time to confess? 👉👈

(Btw I wanted to let you know that your writing has such a grip on my heart, I must have re-read your Sleepy Afternoon hcs at least a hundred times 🥺🫶 and i hope you have a wonderful day!)

So sorry I didn't get a new chapter out today...the holidays kept me busy! Enjoy these sweet short stories instead <3 Characters: gn reader x Sanji, Ace, Franky Cw:  none :) Total word count: 1600

First Words

Sanji

Ever since you joined the crew, you had found yourself gravitating toward the kitchen. 

Being with Sanji was easy. He never pestered you with questions or asked you to speak. If he did ask questions, they were always non-invasive, yes-or-no questions that you could answer with a shake of your head. 

You realized you had feelings for him when he came into the kitchen one morning, dark shadows under his eyes. And before he began cooking, he signed good morning to you. You had signed back the same phrase before you realized that he had signed, not spoken. 

He beamed with pride as your eyes widened in shock. 

“You learned how to sign?” you signed quickly. 

He focused intensely as he watched the way your hands moved, and then slowly nodded. 

“I stayed up all night trying to learn the basics. I figured it’s lonely up there in your head.” He tapped his temple with his forefinger for effect. “I’m not very good yet, but I’ll try my best to follow you if you ever feel like communicating.”

You gave a soft nod, the thought making your eyes shine. Even just the effort of knowing good morning made your heart swell. 

As the days went on, Sanji got better at sign language. So much better that he indirectly became your translator for the rest of the crew if you ever felt like adding to the conversation. He came to your defense whenever Luffy begged you to speak, and helped make sure your voice was heard without ever judging you. 

As the two of you were sitting out on the deck one night under the stars, you decided you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You had to tell him. 

“I have to tell you something,” you signed.

Sanji stood up a little straighter, looking at you with slight concern. “What is it, my love?”

“I think-” you paused your signing. Saying the words with your hands didn’t seem right. You trusted Sanji with everything. You wanted to tell him. You wanted to say it. Out loud. 

“I think-” you whispered softly, your voice raw from time unused. But you grew more confident when you spoke again. “I think I might just be in love with you, Sanji.”

You could see him struggling to understand your words; the fact that you had spoken was enough to send him into shock. 

And then he leaned in and kissed you. 

You melted under his touch. Your body craved the feeling of his skin as he held your face against his. 

“I love you too, my dear,” he whispered back. “And my name on your lips is sweeter than anything I could ever cook up.”

Ace

Ace didn’t mind that you didn’t speak a lot. Or speak at all. He did enough talking for the both of you. 

Still, you liked being around him. At meals, you often found yourself sitting next to him. At parties, he was often at your door, dragging you out onto the deck to have a few beers with everyone. 

You liked how he could bring people together. He was always the life of the party anywhere you went. You enjoyed his warmth, both through his devil fruit ability and personality. 

You often found yourself staring at him, admiring everything about him. You knew every other person on the ship was doing the same thing. So even when his eyes locked onto yours and the two of you had silent conversations, you did your best to ignore that ache in your chest. He was loved by everyone. You weren’t special. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Ace said, taking a seat next to you on the deck. “I know you didn’t want to, and I know these parties can be overwhelming. So thanks for coming for me.”

You shook your head slightly, smiling softly. It’s no big deal.

“It is a big deal! You-” the rest of his sentence was cut off by a few of your crewmates screaming at each other and everyone cheering loudly. 

“Come on,” Ace mumbled, rising to his feet and holding out his hand for you. “Let’s go somewhere quieter. I can’t hear myself think here.”

You smiled and nodded, taking his hand. It was loud and overwhelming. You were here for Ace, to celebrate him being promoted. But that didn’t mean you liked being around crowds or rowdiness. 

There was only one place that was quiet on a night like tonight: the crow’s nest. So the two of you quietly snuck up the ladder and hid away from everyone. A moment of quiet amongst the sea of noise. 

“It's so peaceful up here,” Ace said softly. “I love it up here.”

You hummed in agreement. “I love you.”

Both of you froze. You hadn’t even been thinking about a confession. It had come out entirely on its own. 

You could feel Ace’s sharp gaze on you. “What?”

You cleared your throat, ignoring the heat on your face. “The view. I love the view.”

“You’re speaking.”

You finally looked at him, your voice rough. “I speak sometimes.”

“Never to me!” Ace ran his hand through his hair and took a long drink from the bottle in his hand. “You’ve never spoken to me!”

“I-” you stopped. You hadn’t spoken much since you had joined the crew. Only to Pops, really. And only whenever you were asked a direct question. Ace had probably never heard your voice. “I thought you had. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” Ace said, laughing. “I just want to hear more of it! Tell me a story! Your voice is- is like-” he struggled for words, and then he smiled as his eyes locked onto yours. “It’s like a breath of fresh air.”

“It is not,” you smiled at his words, though. “You just feel that way because we can breathe up here without smelling our lovely crewmates.”

Ace barked out a laugh. “Stunning and funny. You really are the total package.”

You quieted at that. A true compliment from Ace didn’t happen often, and you could feel the blush creeping its way through your face. 

Instead, you laid back and turned your head toward the sky, choosing to watch the stars instead. You were almost asleep when Ace spoke again.

“I love you too, you know.”

Franky

You liked being in the workshop with Franky. Franky never tried to get you to speak. Most of the time it was too loud in there to hold a conversation anyway. The extent of your conversation was him asking you to get a tool for him, and you silently retrieving it. 

You weren’t sure it changed into something more, but you began watching him closely as he worked. After a day or two, he began explaining what he was building and all the steps that went into it. It wasn’t long before you were working on the bench next to him. 

Some days, Franky was chatty. He talked about his home, his old life, and other projects he had done. Sometimes he asked you simple questions about your past, but he never pried too deep. 

That’s what you liked most about Franky. Everything had been on your terms, and Franky had always received your decisions enthusiastically. He always supported you when you wanted to help him build a bench, but he also encouraged you to take rest days when you simply wanted to observe. 

Franky was always on your side. No matter what you decided, he was going to agree. He was your biggest fan, always cheering you on. 

And as his strong arms wrapped around you, both of you holding the torch to weld two pieces of metal together, you realized the heat on your face wasn’t just from the flame. 

Franky pulled his welding helmet up. “So, do you like welding?”

You nodded. “I think I like you more, Franky.”

Franky’s mouth fell open in shock. For once, you had stunned him into silence. Only the hum of the generator buzzed in the air. 

The silence made you feel strange, and words began falling out of your mouth in an attempt to fill it. 

“You’re so kind and supportive to me and you always help me learn new things. You’ve been so amazing and patient these past few weeks and you’re always so encouraging and…I just…I like you a lot, Franky, and I was just thinking about how I wanted to tell you and then it just…came out.”

Franky was still staring at you, awestruck. “You can speak?” 

You covered your face. He was missing the whole point. Maybe he would forget the words you had actually said. 

He seemed to remember your words at that exact moment. “Me? You like me?”

A small smile creeped across your face. No backing down now. “Yes, I do.”

“Super!” His words made you laugh. “I’ve liked you for quite some time as well. Just didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Your smile finally widened, full and genuine. “You’re the place I feel most comfortable, Franky.”

He gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for an embrace. “And I will never stop being that for you, I swear it.”

[inlovewithalcinadimitrescu]

I am NOT a writer but I found this in my notes and I thought, this doesn’t suck that much- I probably won’t continue it cuz I have mixed feelings and I’m not used to writing. English isn’t my first language so if there’s any mistake that’s why. This is Wandanat x Reader btw.

When you find yourself on a mission that went downhill pretty fast next to the last pair you would like to be alone with, Maximoff and  Romanoff, let's just say that it's not your ideal way to spend the weekend. It's not like you dislike them, on the contrary, you love them so much it makes you mad.

Natasha and Wanda have been in a relationship for years now, when you joined they were already together so it was a sight everybody else would say you've grown accustomed to.

How wrong they are. The truth is that you craved to be the object in between their affection. You were so jealous they shared kisses and touches sitting on the couch of the compound,

"Y/n",

You felt so jealous of the affectionate hugs from behind that Natasha loves to give to her lover,

"Y/n",

Jealous of the kisses on the cheek that Wanda couldn't go half an hour without giving to her lover,

"Y/n?"

Jealous of-

"Y/n!"

Natasha's voice was not rough, just a higher tone destined to get your attention, she leaned to your side to get closer to your ear "We lost you for a second there".

"Oh, sorry, I was just thinking-"

"Yes, we need to do a lot of that to get out of here.” Wanda examined the surroundings with a sharp gaze, she had been shot in the shoulder but she didn't seem fazed by it. "We should try to round the building, there is a safe house that way into the forest" Wanda says way too calmly "Are you sure it's a good idea? We could just try to make the run back to the motorcycles and find a way to communicate with the team." Natasha seemed calm on the outside but you could see the way her eyes gave up the worry towards the condition of her partner. "We can treat Wanda in the safe house, the most important thing right now is to get away from this building, we can't risk either of you getting hurt." Wanda looked at you with a warm smile and those gorgeous green eyes while Natasha just nodded at your words with an unreadable expression.

You took the run, you behind them so if any bullet was shot towards them you'll be the one to receive them. It's worth to say that the powers don't take away the pain, and most importantly every wound you got took a toll on your organism. By the end of the run you looked like you just got out of your grave. Your heart rate would've just have already killed any normal human, your eyes were fighting to stay open, a boiling fever was attempting to kill you too, you could barely breathe and your body screamed for a lie down. And lie down you did. The last thing you heard was your muffled name and the rustling of a person reaching towards you.

Natasha caught you just in time the moment you passed out, "Shit, lyubov' we need to lie her down". (love) Wanda seemed more preoccupied over you than over her wounded shoulder. Both of them entered the safe house, Natasha laid you down on the bed while Wanda looked for the first aid kit.

"There, there, Malysh" (baby) Natasha was wiping your forehead with a wet towel to try and cool your body down. "Natasha?" Natasha looked up from your face and watched as Wanda was nursing her own wound, Natasha left the cold towel on your forehead to tend to her partner. Wanda's eyes were fixated on you while her lover took care of her. "She's going to be ok, malysh" Natasha said as she finished putting bandages on Wanda's wound.

Silence filled the room, unspoken words clinging to their minds. "What are we going to do?" Wanda's question made her partner stare into the eyes of her lover, the intensity of both green eyes didn’t seem to faze either of them, both of them knew what Wanda was referring to. They both glanced at your exhausted body.

Many hours have the duo spent talking about you, many team movie nights have been spent just admiring you, and many other moments have they tried to reach to you but you always seem to be moving in the opposite direction.

Your little secret has been out of the box for a while, one day Wanda heard your thoughts about being with them. She couldn't have been happier to tell her partner that both ways reciprocated, since then they have been trying to get closer to you. "We have to tell her." Natasha interrupted the train of thoughts they both were in.

And that’s it

[jazeswhbhaven]

The Encounter of Two Flames | React | Spoilers

SO LOVELIES I REALLY ENJOYED THESE TWO PARTS LEMME TELL YA

Like...especially when part 6 came about???? Ahhhhh anyways let's goooo

We start with Satan rollin' and tusslin' with Sitri (who isn't being called Sitri just yet, just a devil with no name) and I'm just like damn so it's like that huh?

But I mean...why wouldn't it be? Hell is pretty much a place where anything goes so this isn't really above that with random devils being feral and attackin' folks lol

But...why did they have to say "he pinned his arms on the ground" because my brain did not see that innocently.

ANYWAYS

I know he's pretty much all instinct and no brain cells, but feral Sitri is giving me what I need. A devil at his core without direction. The thrill, the danger, all of datttt.

BUT again, I digress....(over here simpin' for feral sitri like i'm s t a r v i n g)

So it seems Satan has found this rumored devil beast and tries to talk with him, but to his surprise he is unable to speak to him in words just growls.

I like how Satan just casually comments that devils are just fucking made without proper thought. I'm sure early on he meant God and not necessarily Lilith (or honestly he could have meant both of them who knows)

So he tries to test Sitri, and was even like "should I kill you?" and Sitri ofc responds very aggressively, indicating that he can't speak but he can understand Satan. I really want to know his thought process and how he processes Satan's words though.

I know that the devil's have their own language, because it's been brought up a couple times in the side stories with Ppyong and Minhyeok with Ppyong complaining that he can't read Minhyeok's language but he can still understand him. So if Sitri can't read or talk...I wonder how it is he can understand his native tongue? Perhaps body language, that sort of thing.

Satan indirectly telling Sitri he has big D energy lolololololololol

Seriously though, he asks for Sitri to be his subordinate but he just straight up BITES him lmao

flashback to me writing about my fankid Cain biting Satan's arm too...it seems that Satan is used to this kind of reaction after all. This also was by chance I had no idea they were going to have this happen for them lol

So he's just out here chewin' and munching on his arms and then....

Apparently by drinking Satan's blood you can also see his memories. And that's an interesting fact that I shall use in my future writing later....

So it turns out that he saw a lot through Satan's blood, making it to where he even backs away from him and tries to keep his distance, Satan is just over here like "haha told you so, you can't beat me." and well he would be right. At this point he could very much get rid of Sitri in a second.

Buttt not so fast.

So Satan thanks him for killing off angels in Gehenna, and Sitri tries AGAIN to attack him and gets a swift kick in the gut. It seems our feral boi just won't let up just yet. Satan even brings up the fact that Sitri may be pissed that he saw that there are other devils he simply can't defeat.

He even calls him out by saying Sitri does like him he just doesn't know how to process everything at the moment. He offers to show him more.

Oh my.

So Satan does the craziest thing (his poor red lump friends are freaking out this entire time btw) and pulls out his fucking heart! So ya'll who guessed that it was Satan's heart were in fact correct. It appears that devil's hearts are just smaller versions of themselves, which is a cool concept instead of looking like a human heart. Which I mean yes that would make sense a devil's heart would be different.

The reason Satan even did this though, is because Sitri has to see and accept his blood properly, straight from the source of his heart/core. And I'm just like this is so badass when you really think about it because I imagine if the other Kings had found Sitri first it would go very different and Satan is just like "yah drink my blood it's all good, we're bonding"

also this cg is very pretty like sunset/sunrise in the backgroun, satan's pretty pink hair, that little fang...ahhhhhhhhh

He's makin' us fall in love with him all over again ain't he?

Feral Sitri is thinking very deeply about taking the offer of biting into Satan's heart...it's really just wild to me though that this was his life prior to what we're seeing now. Just living off the land, killing, with raw power??? I mean...just from this lore alone we know that Sitri is really fucking strong, and I wonder if he's the strongest noble out of all the countries. That's something to think about. (i mean he did fucking set all of gehenna on fire from being depressed so...)

So Feral Sitri takes a bite, and well...it's a night and day difference when he does!!

The information processes so much I think I would personally go mad from having to do that but Sitri is doing well. He learns about the Kings, Hell, how it all ties together, Satan being the one to run front and center of it all.

He calls him "Master" and even starts crying and stuff.

Ya'll this entire time I could only think about this....

Also the scene where he and Lestat first exchange blood.

Phew....like Sitri being all submissive and level headed just gives me vibes from this movie (and show)

I'm sorry ya'll I'll stop LMAO (the music in the background in the event didn't help)

But yes, Sitri is totally tamed now after seeing Satan's full self, memories, and that he is going to forever be his devil. His right hand, ride or die, basically everything. And thus why we see that he has so much devotion for Satan and values his opinion.

OH SO SATAN NAMED HIM SITRI

And Sitri says it back to which the red lump devils blush when hearing him say it. (I love these little guys they are adorable)

Satan goes to say that he liked him upon first meeting him and that he wants him to stay by his side, learn to read and fight, and he mentions for Levi to raise him???

And me and the devils and Sitri are like???? Satan what? who?

LOL NOT LEVI COMIN' IN WITH THE INSULT

and Satan is like "You can't call me that unless you're Mammon"

w h

a t

Turns out Mammon is there too.

there goes my theory that he was trapped.....

So I was way off, it seems that this happened after Mammon's origin story which would have me believe that it's possible that Mammon is older than Satan, and possibly older than Levi, but not older than Beel and Lucifer. And technically since Belphie is still asleep, who knows how old he is. Me trying to figure out this timeline has me running in circles lol

So Levi and Mammon are there because they were trying to get Sitri first...perhaps Leviathan just wanted Sitri for his own reasons, and Mammon wanted him just because and I assume Bimet wasn't an adult just yet to be his right hand devil at this time.

Satan is feeling dizzy and requested a healing devil, Mammon is just like "ah hell you're cute I'll help you."

screaming because this is pretty much why i love their dynamic and why Astra is in a polyship with them...

Levi was just gonna let his ass pass out. lmao Instead he's bitching about how Satan is requesting him to "raise this filthy beast" and not hand him over (Levi calls Sitri an "it" but that's to be expected with his rude ass lol)

And Satan is like "I'll invade Hades if you don't" and I'm laughing my ass off because that's such a Satan thing to say.

And Levi just kinda scruffs Sitri like a cat and is like "Ugh he stinks" and Mammon is happy that Levi is listening to Satan and wants to pat his head and Levi ofc is pissed and saying for Mammon to back the fuck up.

Even back then Leviathan is just taking names and dishing out the heat. He's only listening because he finds it annoying if he lets Satan just raid out Hades like that.

The red lumps assume that it's because Satan is strong and would win, but-

Levi. Bro. Sir. P L E A S E lmaoooooo

I'm crying.

But Satan tells a struggling Sitri that since he found him first to make sure he comes back and stays strong while under Levi.

Levi is just out here having the time of his life though just scruffin' Sitri, and treating him like some object or weapon which okay I guess Levi go off.

"I may invade Gehenna to get my hands on this thing once I unlock its abilities"

*EYE ROLL*

Don't say that about Sitri. I'll box you.

The babies. Mammon probably was just holding him like :)))) look at this cute devil that I own. So small, so delicate...

I love them your honor.

Then some time later....Foras is doing his whole thing and saying that a devil wants to request an audience with Levi.

Ya'll do you see how annoyed he is already like goddamn what were you doing that was so important?

But he knows it's Sitri that wants to see him....and well it seems that we will learn on part 7 what he wants!!!

So the reason that part 6 was my favorite is obvious, because ya'll saw me going ham on those gifs and enjoying the interaction with the Kings once again meeting up in one area. It really just has me knowing that their "friendships" are that far back...and their dynamics will always stay the same. Levi always giving empty threats, Satan being headstrong, Mammon in the back just being casual and observing while patronizing his peers without knowing that's a bad thing to do lol

But I'm one step closer to figuring out this timeline ya'll...it's still far but I'm getting there slowly...this is one of the times I actually care about lore timelines even though my fic doesn't really follow it anyways. (it's important though for my fankid au)

But yeesss I'll see ya'll on the next react! I'm stacking 'em up again so it will be day 7 and 8 the next go around.

[scekrex]

Could you write abt reader trying to get Adam to wear a maid outfit "as a joke" but really he just wants to see Adam in ANY revealing outfit because that man has hella ass and he hides it in his robes? Ur writing absolutely fucks btw

I fucking love the thought of Adam in a maid dress that's just a little too short to hide his juicy ass like the fanart I've seen- fuck it's good.

I got myself a fuckin' life dressed up in evening wear

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“C’mon Adam, it’s for my fucking birthday, just once,” you begged the first man as you snuggled up against his side and placed a soft kiss on his neck and while the first man absolutely enjoyed your kisses, he was not enjoying the request you had. “Fucking no, the fuck do I look like? Some shit-ass doll you can dress the fuck up however you want? Nuh-fucking-uh,” he shook his head lightly to underline his words and theír seriousness, there was really no use to fight it though, not when your next move was to climb into his lap and gently leave a trail of soft kisses alongside his jaw. You felt how his body relaxed underneath you, felt his sigh more than you heard it and it was then and there that the both of you knew you had won, even if Adam would keep up the act of denying your request a little longer. “No one else is gonna see ya, c’mon hun,” you leaned in closer, your hands were on his chest, softly massaging his slightly chubby tits in the most teasing way God had ever seen. Your lips brushed against his ear as you continued to speak, “Do it for me, Adam.” The shudder that went through his body at your words felt so violent. The leader of the exorcists grabbed you by your hips, effortlessly lifted you off of his lap and placed you back onto the couch as he got up, muttering in a very unpleased sounding voice, “Fucking fine.” And you had won. Again.

-

The reason why you wanted him to wear that stupid outfit for you was pretty simple: You wanted to see and slap his ass. Ever since you had first seen this man in underwear, you had known that his ass was a handful, like the first man not only had a fucking amazing dick, no, of course he also had the most perfect ass humanity had ever seen. But Adam didn’t really care about that, he knew he looked glorious and that was it, that was enough knowledge to hide his perfect body underneath that gigantic robe of his that left everything to your imagination. He rarely wore anything else than his robe, at home it was mainly a band shirt that was way too fucking big on him and therefore covered his juicy ass, and boxershorts, but even that wasn’t satisfying enough to you, you wanted to dress him up to make him realize how wonderful his body was - you wanted him to see what you were seeing and while the brunette might not like the thought of wearing a maid dress, you had made sure to get him one that fit his figure’perfectly fine. He would look absolutely angelic wearing the dress you had picked out for him.

So when you opened your eyes because of soft kisses that were placed up your chest, over your neck and all the way up to your lips, you couldn’t hide the massive grin that stretched across your lips. “Mornin’,” you mumbled sleepily against the warm pair of lips that belonged to your boyfriend. Adam wasn’t the romantic type of guy, yes, the both of you were going on dates, but at home in his normal daily life, the most romantic thing he could do without seeming suspicious was to kiss you awake. And that mainly happened on special occasions like birthdays. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy kissing you awake, he did very much, but he wanted it to be something special, why you didn’t fully understand but you accepted it. “Morning, old fuckhead,” the first man greeted you, on his lips an equally large grin. He seemed excited for the day, he had most likely already forgotten about the little promise he had made you, otherwise he surely wouldn’t be as excited. At least that was your guess.

You pulled away from the warm body on top of yours and stretched your tired bones as you pushed yourself off the bed to sit up before you gave him a glance, followed by a very important reminder, “Someone’s quite excited to spend the day in a maid dress, huh?” Oh and the look on his face as he heard you speaking those words, it was priceless. The grin he had been holding up so pridefully fell quickly and his expression turned into a mix between annoyance and excitement, though you were sure the annoyance in his eyes was just a cover-up, otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed to wearing that silly outfit so quickly. If he wanted to, Adam could argue pretty well and the fact that there had been basically no resistance on his side, had told you everything you needed to know - he thought of your wish as something silly, yet respected it - mainly because it was coming from his boyfriend. “Don’t fucking remind me,” he groaned with a roll of his eyes and turned around, his back was now facing you. Oh but you couldn’t wait to see his sexy ass in that dress that was just a little too short and would expose just a little too much.

So you pushed the sleepiness aside and got up from the bed to walk over to your shared closet, you took the still closed package that was waiting inside and tossed it in Adam’s direction. The brunette was quick to roll over and dodge getting hit by it while he grumbled, “It’s too fucking early, babes.” No, no it really wasn’t. It wasn’t ever ‘too early’ to see your boyfriend in the most revealing piece of clothing he’d ever own. “Pull that stick outta your ass and get dressed bitch, it’s my fucking birthday,” you responded in a sing-song voice as you grabbed one of Adam’s band shirts to wear yourself. The sleepily annoyed boyfriend of yours raised his head a little, eyeing you up and down, “So I have to wear this,” he nudged the package away from his body with his left wing, “And you get to wear my shit that basically covers all of you? Fucking unfair.” You just chuckled as you headed for the door, “Get a taste of your own fucking medicine, hun. I’m gonna go and make breakfast, you’re gonna move your ass and you better be dressed when I’m done.” You were almost able to hear the brunette’s annoyed eye roll as he responded sarcastically, “Yes dad,” while he dropped his head face down into the pillows. A cheeky, “That’s daddy for you,” left your lips before you closed the door behind you, yet you heard how the first man choked on his spit because of your words.

-

“Y/N,” Adam mumbled as he entered the kitchen and walked past you, giving you the most angelic view of his ass you’ve ever seen. The brunette yelped in surprise as you slapped said ass firmly and playfully hit on him, “Hey Sexy.” You heard him grumble something underneath his breath, however you didn’t catch what he had just said and you definitely weren’t gonna ask him, if it was important, he’d tell you sooner or later. “You should wear this more often, makes your ass look absolutely amazing,” you hummed in delight as you flipped the pancakes that you were preparing for breakfast. “Fuck you,” Adam mumbled and while he was trying to sound annoyed, maybe even embarrassed, you saw how prideful his body language was. Oh this man was all act, no truth, full of insecurities. Yet he seemed to like the dress better than expected.

[chokchokk]

2/2

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 [𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬] | choi san x fem!reader

PART THREE of : have your way with words, be my people pleaser 

“Be mine tonight, Y/N.”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: The hour is twisted. You’re not at a club, you’re not sober, but most importantly, you’re not with him. Will Seonghwa do? No, of course not.

But he leaves you no other chance.

“You’re so pathetic, it might actually be worth a try.”

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: angst, smut

𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: 2nd half of PART THREE

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 13.3k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): drug-use, drug abuse, alcohol, mdma (ecstasy, molly), vulgar language, just a lot of vulgarities and profanity, hate-fuck?, aggressive, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, sex with feelings but no love, sex with no respect, cumming inside; reader cant stop thinking about san, writer is a bit stoic, seonghwa is a hot bitch, hwa and writer are liars lmao

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: the border looks that ugly on purpose btw not that you think otherwise LMAO

on ao3, this chapter is called “insanity” and i can’t promise it will be the only seonghwa-centred part throughout the series, but do please enjoy for the filth and angst of it all hehe!! <33 if you're asking “does san even make an appearance here?” i won’t tell you :P i know it's intimidating since there's just about like 10k build-up (because i'm a bitch LMAO) so if u wanna skip just find the second border i guessssssss

also, i really recommend listening to KLOUD's ESCAPE HALLOWEEN set (it's a soundcloud link) or any other hard tekno for the whole immersive experience lmao !!! <33

and also, thank you all very much for 100 followers and over 1000 notes ! ! ! wtf it's all happening so fast i can't catch up with yall....

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @brown88 : @svintsandghosts: @hanniebeesworld : @downbadreading : @shingsoluvely (kissing all of yall <33)

Didn’t Seonghwa say “club” or are you being some conservative narc flaking out?

You’re standing in front of a white, slightly burnt industrial building that is barely holding on by itself, and taking into account how many people are smoking around here, the likeliness that it will catch on fire again is not too low. You can’t believe that you’re going to meet Seonghwa inside here, let alone San, let alone anyone with a healthy sense for flight or fight, but here you are, walking up to the line with confident steps.

Yes, it has made you very anxious that even the taxi-driver had no idea where he was heading. He promised to drive you back home if anything happened, so the taxi-hotline is on speed-dial— just in case— and you just thought, holy fuck, hopefully Seonghwa won't leave me alone here.

But once you’d seen the seemingly endless line of people, you knew you have arrived at the right place. Or at least something like the right place. It all seems off, this building in the middle of nowhere outside the city, but you told the driver the vague address and he found you this hidden ware- and clubhouse, both of you hesitating to confirm that this was the correct location.

Nothing here seems legal, smells legal, looks legal— oh well.

The only thing you can say with certainty is is that you are looking and smelling the best you have ever looked and smelled this entire semester, and even if you have no fucking clue who these people that are whistling at you are, you know you’ve done everything right tonight when they wave at you to join them. You just skipped a whole chunk of the line here, but nobody seems to mind it. What a democratic party, maybe it’s not all that foul play and people do appreciate good things, eh?

It’s not an exaggeration or empty self-boast: You, in your skin-tight, revealing black body-con dress, skin glowing under the harsh night-light, are absolutely ravishing. There are looks on you— uncountably many of them, and usually, you’d fold under their heavy gaze, but having taken a few shots of the cheap rum back at home, you reciprocate their curious eyes with a sleek, cheeky smile, down-right inviting them to bathe in your appearance.

While the group of people take in the presence of you, blurting out their first thoughts immediately upon thinking, your confidence only grows bigger. Thank god drunk people say the truth, because “damn, she’s hot” is the ego-boost you needed to face whatever awaits you in that cubic building.

“ARE YOU FUCKING READY?”, booms out of it and it seems like a voice sample that’s been altered that hellishly deep. The crowd outside cheers. They're not even a part of the shenanigans yet, but still, they’re screaming and already moving their body in anticipation, throwing funny looking candy (you’re very sure that’s molly) inside their mouths. They’re ready, but Y/N, are you? It is an honest question to ask yourself, and as you inhale the smell of people smoking the devil’s lettuce around you, you draw out how the night might progress for them.

You don’t know about San’s whereabouts, only that Seonghwa and him are going separately, which is a big plus if you want to fuck him today.

Uh-huh. Fuck Seonghwa. You’ve made it up in your mind because he just wouldn’t stop hinting at it in the car this morning. He is going to buy you drinks, going to show you his dancing, but most importantly, going to “make you enjoy yourself”, which of course, could just be wishful thinking from you iterating the conversation, but Seonghwa wouldn’t have bought the tickets for you for free if he wasn’t expecting some type of reward, would he?

At the minimum, the hinting painfully reminded you of the way you talked to San the very first days you first insinuated that he could stay over at your house and — oh, golly! — sleep there. Coming to think of it, your talk actually never worked, and it still ended up being San who made the first sexual move. You’re going to save Seonghwa from this embarrassment, and if not, you’re going to save yourself from your own embarrassment for if you do see San and his volleyball-“date” or whatever here.

Anyhow, at the maximum, you have a brain and are fully aware of the fact that people don’t “meet” at the club to just have a chat, whether it's him or San. People “meet” at the club to get crazy and fuck, and that’s exactly what you’re doing with Seonghwa — End of story. San is not going to write this chapter today. He won’t even end up in the epilogue, that’s how much you’re going to focus on Seonghwa. Go down. Get him on. Get on with him.

You bop your head a little bit to the deep bass that’s vibrating through the walls of the warehouse and the line is taking a painfully long time to move forward. You watch the people in your group chug down their self-mixed abominations and how they're throwing the remaining glass on the floor, whiffing their stimulants through their joints or gulping it down by tablets. Letting out a huff to exhale the sharp smell of weed, you try to become as detached as the ones around you, at the very least assimilate to their mood. You’re going to be with these people tonight, and just by putting one and one together, you get the feeling that it will be a long, ruthless evening. You can hear intoxicated screams leave the front door, the deep voice continuing to hype up their cheers.

It's all a hivemind of pure madness and … well, you're here for it, it seems like, no? Seonghwa is not going to be an exception, and you brace yourself to be meeting your date here.

Show you his dancing, he said…

You don’t know whether the DJ playing some extraordinary remixes or whatever to be deserving this much of screaming feedback, but it’s definitely music to get your mind lost to, you'll give this guy Mingi that; Splurging, ear-numbing beats and basses, inviting you to rock your body. You don’t hate the music, not at all. It just makes you question how Seonghwa was imagining to impress you. Here you are imagining body-rolls or whatnot, but this hard style techno isn't really the tune for that, is it? Okay, let's just say it's not music you'd turn on to get yourself into the mood on a Saturday night, that's what's there to it.

It’s ironical, really. Usually around this time you’d be fumbling around your phone on your couch to ask San if he’s free or not, and sometimes he is, but most of the time he’s not. Those days where he just comes over on your mark have been over long time. Now, he’ll either show up at your house unprecedented or ask you to show up at his house in an ungodly hour.

Huh, isn’t that one funny butterfly effect. You woke up early because of San's mistress and here you are, lining up to become Seonghwa's. Is this right? "I heard you were going to be at Mingi’s party. Meet me there." Even now, you’re trying to convince yourself that this contact name “volleyball” could be anyone, maybe even just a friend that is trying to link up at this not-so party-looking party. Hm, you think, would a friend text him so intimidatingly? San hates periods to end messages, it scares him. So no, not a friend. At least not a friend that knows him as much as you do. Someone he had a fight with, maybe? No, Choi San doesn’t have fights, he’s too avoidant of conflict for that. It has got to be someone that has once been close to him and a bit too close to your liking.

No, no, fuck no, let’s stop this, you murmur to yourself and wriggle down your dress so it covers your ass at least.

Fucking Seonghwa. That’s your one and only mission tonight, of course followed by having fun and getting all hell loose.

It will just be one night and it will either make you 1) want to stay with San, or 2) finally move on and agree that San is just a … friend with too many benefits. You have to convince yourself you’re not in love with San. You can’t be in love with San. Disregarding of how curious you are in meeting him here.

“Ticket,” the control-man orders around the people in front of you and you get out your phone out of your tiny bag for the ticket, when you see that Seonghwa has already messaged you.

Seonghwa (San’s roomie): I’ll be waiting at the bar for you by the way Seonghwa (San’s roomie): You have to walk up the stairs on the left when you enter Seonghwa (San's roomie): Excited to see you ;)

You have been guessing already that something was going to break tonight, but it might as well be those stairs Seonghwa is talking about. From the amount of people that are still waiting behind you, you hope that they’re not all trying to go the bar.

“Ticket, please,” the control-man repeats, but strangely enough, his tone is a bit friendlier to you for some reason. “Here you go,” you duplicate his kindliness and he nods, dropping his smile as soon as he moves on to the next guess. Strange.

You eye the buff guy, but the impatient crowd pushes you into the square door. In you go.

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS UP!”

Harsh red lights, laser and smoke hit your senses. (Though you can only be so sure that the last part is really planned for the show-experience.)

Maybe you underestimated the capabilities of a warehouse. It’s still not what you thought of when you heard "club", but it surely still gets your club-mind going. Ignoring the grimy looking walls that seem to crumble with every beat that’s drumming inside your ears, the pungent smell of cheap-ass perfume, artificial sweeteners and alcoholic beverages strike into your nose, blurring your sight for a short moment. There are no windows in this hell-hole, but that’s the concern for another hour.

This is only the beginning. So, let’s focus.

Left, stairs, go up, there’s the bar Seonghwa was messaging you about. It surprises you that you’re not being swarmed by more people trying to get drinks, but it makes sense, since so many of them have already drunk outside or taken other substances to get themselves prepared for the night. That’s the first thing.

Second thing; suprisingly, the stairs are actually kind of durable. You can physically feel the bass run through your veins as you grab the handrail, but maybe that’s just because of the cold metal. Nothing to worry about here, you exhale and make your way up.

Lastly, and most importantly, look at you, you’re smiling. That’s the biggest, best thing. The euphoria these people are screaming out is down-right infectious, isn’t it? Their daft, hypnotic cries are calling out to you on the dance floor, but you’re going to be there sooner or later, with the man that brought you here in the first place.

“Hey, Seonghwa.”

“Hey, Y/N, you—“

He was sitting on a barstool, admiring the flashing lights all throughout the warehouse through his sunglasses, when you put your hand on his barely clothed shoulder and make him turn around.

“Holy shit, Y/N.”

You grin. Of course Seonghwa wouldn’t disappoint with his reaction. He rips the sunglasses from his face immediately, gets up from his seat and embraces you with one arm, not daring to let one eye sway away from you, his tongue pushed to the surface of his mouth, as he suppresses his gleeful grin. He looks star-struck, the supernatural-looking lights surrounding him are only emphasising this sight. Otherworldly.

“Where have you been hiding that?”, he asks, commenting on your body as respectfully as he can. You know he can’t handle a lot of alcohol, so his marvel must be double the truth, right? Seonghwa isn’t a liar.

“I’ve not been hiding anything,” you scoff and Seonghwa laughs nervously.

“Y/N, you look… absolutely fantastic.”

“You don’t look to shabby yourself, Seonghwa,” you smile and muster the charcoal-haired man from bottom to top. It’s very out-of the ordinary, but honestly, you should have expected something like this after he invited you here. It goes without saying, you could have served him the same reaction to his outfit. The man who was wearing sportswear? He’s now wearing a black, nylon, baggy pant, with a distressed knitted top that barely serves as an excuse for clothing as it is not covering any of his body parts correctly— and even if you’d already gushed about his athletic figure this morning, you have not expected to be seeing Seonghwa’s abs and breast this exposed this early tonight. There is jewellery all around his outfit, just dangling from the fabric, but also his ear and hands, spiky and shiny, almost hazardous looking.

Damn, either you haven’t seen Seonghwa enough or this dude has been hiding more from you than you could account for. He looks as fashionable as much as he looks demonic, ready to sin with you, and that is the most meaningful compliment of the night.

“Thank you, I knew you’d like it.”

“Really? Me?”, you laugh, getting your hair out of your face, tugging it behind your ear.

“You have a strange taste,” Seonghwa smirks and while you puzzle together what he means, he signs something to the bartender with his ringed fingers.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m ordering us shots. Keeping my first promise.”

“With sign-language?”

Seonghwa smirks and sits down again, you following him to the same.

"I'm a friend of Mingi's, they know me around, that's all."

"Y'all are weird."

“That’s just our ways here.”

“Your ways? You sound like some pretentious club-kid,” you nag.

“What if I am, huh? Are you gonna leave, if I was?”, Seonghwa teases and is served a tray of four shots, coloured a dangerously unnatural purple colour. He slides a 10-dollar bill onto the counter and the bar-keeper takes it with no words spoken out loud, which gives Seonghwa the time to devote all his attention to you. It’s flattering how astounded he is by you, as if he hasn’t seen you pretty ever in his life. But then again, you can only do so much styling and make-up when San calls you at 10 PM, asking you to “hurry”.

“We’ll see how the night progresses,” you smirk, and grab the first shot. Seonghwa also takes one and slightly raises the small cup.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

Sweet — the taste of the shot.

All types of fruits and harsh, cheap liquour plunge into your mouth and melt on your tongue. It’s going to make your head hurt the next day, one hundred percent, but maybe it will be Seonghwa to get you some pills to soothe the ache.

… If he wasn’t San’s god-damned roommate.

Or he could stay at your home. It’s been a while since another man than him has slept in your bed, and maybe it’s long overdue.

“Let’s hurry up, I wanna dance with you,” you gulp down the sugary liquid and Seonghwa chuckles.

“We’ve got enough time, Y/N. Let’s savour this one together.”

Sweet — The spark in his eyes, his flawless skin, perfectly plump lips— holy fucking shit. Seonghwa is fucking breathtaking.

“Y/N?”, Seonghwa asks and you see that he’s already moved on to the second shot, waiting for you to move on.

“I didn’t know you had that kind of sexy stare in you,” your alcohol blurts out for you and in the meanwhile, you grab the next shot glass.

“Sexy stare?”, Seonghwa asks and grins.

“Screw you! You know what I’m talking about,” you hiss and show him your tongue to offend him, but Seonghwa just tilts his head, raising the glass to your face.

“Loveshot?”, he asks and for a moment, you don’t know whether he’s joking or not. Maybe you’re just feeling weird because a male has said the word “love” in your proximity. (The only man in your life who's a candidate in hearing that word avoids it like a disease.)

“Only if you mean it,” you purr seductively, lick your lips, and praise to fucking god he’s taking the hint. Seonghwa leans in and crosses your arms around, the cold rim of his drink suddenly resting at your lip.

“That’s not how loveshots work,” you notify, but you still mirror him and place your glass under his lips.

“Do you care?”

“No.”

Seonghwa chuckles and with one movement of his hand, the second shot is flowing down your oesophagus. It’s cold, starkly contrasting the humid conditions in the warehouse, but it’s just enough to get your senses rolling again.

You don’t even care that you made Seonghwa miss half the drink, his alcohol tolerance will give him just the right kick from the first shot. Also he doesn’t protest at all, when you hop from your seat to finally get the evening going.

“Let’s go now!”, you order him around and he gladly obeys. “Lead the way,” he says, putting his hands on your shoulder, which he hopefully won't be able to keep there for long, as you both strut down the stairs and into the crowd.

The massive crowd is crazy, and it’s ever-growing.

“What is this place?”, you ask Seonghwa, as he’s being pushed against your back by the people on the way to the dancefloor and Seonghwa has the perfect opportunity to grab you by your hips to not lose you, but frustatingly enough, he doesn’t. His hands leave your shoulders and Seonghwa just tries to manoeuvre to you.

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you,” Seonghwa answers honestly and you look for a free place to roam and dance. People are trying to get as close to the DJ as possible, but once those are gone, there’s actually some space you can use— you just have to get there.

“You come here often?”, you ask, leaning backwards for your voice to hit his skin. You'll be hoarse by the end of the night.

“I’ve only went twice. San went to every single set of Mingi, though!”

“Really? San goes here frequently?”

“Yeah! Does that shock you?”

“Of course it does.” You stop, turn around and Seonghwa’s hands stay in place in his pants, as you talk to him. “This, all of this, doesn’t seem like San at all.”

“Hmm, I know what you’re getting at. But that’s just our boy, eh?”

You stare into his eyes and search for some type of playfulness, but Seonghwa means his words. This is where San roams— is roaming right now, maybe— and it, all of it, just fucking confuses you. This is not the "party" you would have expected to see that man in, and if that wasn't bad enough, he's apparently a regular. You hope you’re not pushing some kind of innocent image onto him, but despite the alcohol that's heating up your cheeks and making you dumber every talking second, you’re seriously puzzled. That he’s never invited you is questionable already, but is “that San for you”? You don't know.

Wiggling your hips, you try to retrace history to the very moment you had met shy little San at the seminar, up until now, where he’s grown three times his size and you feel like he's some type of fucking mystery that is impossible for you to solve. Nerd? Hopeless romantic? Hard to get? Playboy? San may act like he’s open-minded, but he’s the most secretive guy you’ve seen. Not like Seonghwa, who, mind you, is still looking at you with the most intense fuck-me eyes, that it’s actually eating you up.

“Let’s stop talking about San.”

“Why?”, Seonghwa asks, obliviously, eyes turning back to normal.

“Because it’s us here! You and I, Seonghwa and Y/N. If they drank a loveshot together, they should act like it, don't ya think, huh?” you grunt, already slurring your words. You start to move your body according to the heavy beat, tits jerking out to the front, arms waving like they have a life on their own. Seonghwa smiles and accordingly begins to step his feet where yours aren’t; your bodies are annoyingly close, but still not touching at all.

“How do you mean that, Y/N?”, he asks and you slap his revealed shoulder with the back of your hand to stop his teasing. “I thought you wanted to show me your dancing, Seonghwa!”, you whine and he laughs at your comment.

But Seonghwa doesn’t say anything after that, which gets on your nerves even more and in response, you turn your body slightly away while swaying your hips from side to side.

“You know what you said,” you hiss and he probably can’t hear you because the DJ is transitioning to a track with even more bass penetrating your ears.

You scurry your body to the beat and catch the gaze of someone in the crowd, who’s noticed you for the same reasons Seonghwa can’t keep his eyes away from you. The stranger is drilling his gaze up and down your chiselled body, licking his lips. Feeling playful, you make a suggestive expression towards him in return of the attention, winking at him. The male immediately makes his way to you.

"You do molly?”, he asks into your ear and you see that he’s got two skittles with cartoonish hearts and smileys drawn on them. That’s Adam. You never did him before, but you surely have heard of him, your friends have had him, your friends have loved him, your friends had painful break-ups with him. Merciless adam, MDMA.

You look back at Seonghwa who’s still dancing next to you, acting like he's not watching this whole situation go down, putting on his sunglasses again, and pushing it up his nose bridge. It sucks. His skin under the top is teasing you to look at it, and it feels so unusual to be longing for him, like you can't comprehend he's not... the other one.

So, though you do hesitate for a short second, you take two of the heart-painted ones and smile at the stranger, who sounds rotten from inside out, voice raspy and hoarse.

“Are you alone?”, he asks into your ear and while you think of answer, you muster Seonghwa, whose eyes you cannot track anymore, since the black cubic shades are hiding his prettiest possession. Is he still looking at you? Watching the sky? Who knows. Only he knows.

“Maybe?”, you answer and rotate your head to the stranger’s direction. You don’t care for this man, not at all, but what you do care for is Seonghwa’s reaction. Bouncing your ass up and down against the stranger's baggy jeans like the grand girl you are, he gets his hand at your waist and tries to pull you over his place, but, there he is, Seonghwa to come save the night.

“Fuck off, she's taken.”

He pushes the male away with his elbow and the grip immediately loosens up. “Hey, hey, dude, don’t hit me. Sorry, dude.” Seonghwa is visibly taller than him, and apparently that’s enough for the poor guy to get intimidated by his sunglassed face and disappear into the crowd with quick feet.

“YOU WANNA PLAY?”, the artificially deepened voice echoes through the warehouse and you stare into what you can make out from Seonghwa’s eyes with an earnest frown. You’ve felt unnecessarily angsty and frustrated the whole day since you saw that message on San’s phone, and this is the guy who’s going to hold responsibility for it, better with his whole fucking devotion now.

“What was that?”, you tease Seonghwa, who’s finally getting his hands out of his pockets and pulling you closer to him by your wrist. You can’t exactly read his expression since he’s covered his face still, but that actually makes it feel a lot better. There's something off about him, like Seonghwa is a stranger, like you’re not doing it for him, but rather… yourself. You're doing this because it makes you feel good, not the other way around. That's empowering.

“Whatever you want it to be, Y/N.”

“Stop tip-toeing around it! Are you going to fuck me or not? ‘Cause there’s more of those guys everywhere here,” your alcohol spits again and Seonghwa pants.

“Well, shit,” he laughs and finally glides into your waist with his arms. “That was direct.”

“I can flirt with you, but not under these fucking conditions,” you growl, intoxicated, recycling gritty air in your lungs, moving your sticky body to the beat and occasionally grinding against Seonghwa’s lower body with your legs from the front. "I can flirt and fuck you," he hums and frames his hands around your hips, connecting himself to you.

“Do you do molly, Seonghwa?”, you grin, the two pills waiting to be popped in inside your hand.

Seonghwa takes a look at the capsules, and you wait for his answer, as he appears to investigate them. Does he know what he's looking for? Apparently yes, as he pushes up his sunglasses and rubs the corners of his lips with two of his fingers, “Gimme.”

He picks it up from your flattened hand, and you would’ve loved to share it like a love-shot again, but before you could request it, Seonghwa has gulped it down. Not his first rodeo, you assume, and follow his suit.

Good thing that your throat hasn't dried out yet and the pill glides down your throat with your saliva. It's not going to take long until the jubilation of the alcohol you've consumed meets the ecstatic effect of molly, and you bite your lip with a grin. "Never thought I'd be doing drugs with you, Seonghwa," you purr and Seonghwa shrugs with a huff, “I thought you’d never even consider it.” Seonghwa exhales in the heat of it all, pulling you closer.

“What? Because of San?”

“Of course because of San,” Seonghwa cackles and puts his pointy chin in between the space of your collarbone and neck, so that his voice is hitting the spot of your hickey. “You know he’s here somewhere, right?”

“Yeah, but the probability that we’ll see him is like zero, so that’s not my concern.”

“You’d be concerned if he saw us, though?”, Seonghwa asks, loose-tongued, murmuring against your neck. He’s definitely fully gotten drunk, his body heavily weighing into yours, as he gets one arm up and around your head; his hand is tangled into your scalp without a caution of messing up your hairstyle. You finding out what the molly will do to him is only a matter of time.

“Are you asking if I’m committed to him?”

Seonghwa licks his lips, “accidentally” getting your skin with his tongue. It takes you aback a bit and you whine, your eyes dozing off for a short moment. You can still taste the remains of the shot at the back of your cheeks and it's the only thing you can sense correctly. Everything else is either fogged or slowly disappearing, or becoming even harsher like the red laser lights that you fear are going to pierce through you.

“No, I’m not asking whether you’re committed,” Seonghwa answers, leaning into your skin even more, “I know you guys aren’t in a relationship. Or, you know, at least he isn’t committed.”

“WANNA GET NASTY?”

It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. Even when you’re feeling very seduced because he is trying to get the same moaning reaction out of you by licking your sensitive spot and it’s working, you don’t want to be reminded that San doesn’t care for you as much as you do for him. Sure, that sounds harsh, but it’s the truth, isn’t it? You’re not the one living in the same space as San, Seonghwa is.

“Huh? Does he sleep with a lot of women?”, you ask him out of morbid curiosity, acting tough, as Seonghwa works deeper into your neck, getting the skin to soften for him.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Fuck you! Don’t protect me!”

“Ask him yourself,” he lisps, his sharp tongue grazing against your hickey, teasing your pettiness.

“I deserve to know.”

Seonghwa is the one rolling his eyes now, sighing, “You can be such an annoying brat, Y/N. How does San keep up with you?”

You try to yank your head back to show your discontent with his choice of words, but Seonghwa has you deep in his grip and puts you in place.

“You were the one who didn’t want to talk about San,” he lulls into your ear, stroking your hair to calm you down. Sure, that sounds reasonable, but still not an excuse to call you an “annoying brat”.

You take a wild guess about why Seonghwa isn’t just giving you the answer and argue, “I can still be curious, can’t I? San is not committed, you say? Why? Does he get more bitches than you?”

“He tried to get back with his ex.”

Bingo!

Wait, no. What the fuck?

“Huh, when?”, you ask, and irritatingly enough, Seonghwa has begun biting and licking into your neck at the one spot you can’t stop exhaling sweet noises for him. “Seonghwa, you better fuu-huucking answer.”

“Yesterday,” he murmurs against your skin and ding, ding, ding; things make a lot of sense now.

“No, you’re kidding,” you scoff, and push him away with all your strength. With a numbed mind, Seonghwa tumbles back and laughs, “Hey, it’s no big deal, he called you immediately after it didn’t work out.“

“Seonghwa, are you listening to yourself?”

“WANNA GET FUCKING CRAZY?”

“I’m saying it all like it happened, Y/N. San tried to win her back by inviting her to an expensive dinner, but then she flunked out right in the end, when he invited her back home. And, when he came home alone with a boner, San contacted you.”

“You're lying. Don't lie, Seonghwa, lying is a sin," your splur, but once his words have met your brain, it all just becomes chaos inside. It feels like marbles are rolling down inside your head and nothing is making sense, it’s all going nowhere and everywhere with this information. What are you supposed to feel like? Betrayed? There has never been a promise. Sad? You were going to fuck Seonghwa, you're not the most truthful, either.

“Come on, Y/N. You knew it the second San slammed you against that wall at 11 PM, didn’t you?” Seonghwa glides his thumb over your neck and grins, confirming the evidence of yesterday’s night. The roughful sucking of San could barely be covered up by concealer, and you probably sweated it away already.

“He— he said he was stressed.”

“Because of uni? Don’t lie to yourself, Y/N~”, the male purrs. Amidst of it all, Seonghwa is strangely still moving his body calculated to the beat, hitting each one of the drums with his shoulders, all while he hushes behind you to brainwash you with a whiskery voice. “It’s still San we’re talking about.”

You huff perplexedly and are too flabbergasted by his harsh words to not be affected by Seonghwa’s talking and let him hug you tightly again. He’s almost putting you into a headlock of consolation, or something that would have been great if it had been, indeed, consolation. (It is not. He’s almost choking you with his forearm and the way his hand is pushing into your scalp, nothing about this position is in any way soothing.)

“Tell me something, Seonghwa,” you gutter, since the thought has been recoiling rounds in your head forever and curiosity will always kill the cat. “… is she from his volleyball team?”

“No,” he answers and for some reason, this is a lot worse, “she isn’t, but— wait, how do you know about the girl from his volleyball team?”

You don’t answer. For the sake of your heart, you do not answer. You’re still moving, but you’re moving silently, staring into the humorously wild lasers that are teasing you just like he is.

Seonghwa gasps and cups your chin, his thumb meeting your lip, mushing the lower half of your face, trying to turn your face towards his direction, but you resist him. But who are you fooling. Seonghwa doesn't even need to see your expression to ask you, in an almost utterly disappointed whiny tone, "Nooo, Y/N, do you seriously check his phone?”

“I’m gonna punch you in your pretty fuck-face if you keep whining like that, Hwa.”

“Feisty and flattering, and a new nickname too! It must be my birthday,” Seonghwa chuckles and suddenly begins to nibble your earlobe, warm breath from his nose hitting the skin as he pants throughout his dancing. The alcohol is boiling inside you, being churned by the molly, and the crushing disillusionment is slowly into flaming, enraging, hateful desire. It has all gotta go somewhere, and for now, all you can do it talk with this scorching tone that is only going to turn into even more fuming, “How long has San been pining for his fucking ex?”

“For as long as I can remember," Seonghwa answers, seemingly not aware of the severity of this situation, "Middle of the second semester? Exam-season?”

“Nooo,” you scoff and can’t believe what you’re hearing. You don’t even need to calculate what time Seonghwa is talking about, it is engraved deeply into your memories. The same fucking exam season, when you were seeing San every afternoon and evening. You were right fucking there. He knew— you, on the other hand, not so much.

But you should have known.

“Well, yeah,” Seonghwa grins and is running his hands low to your stomach, almost touching your pelvis to get you worked up even more.

Should have known that you weren’t supposed to fall for San.

Angel faces hide the guts of devils’, and right now, your insides are over-cooking with the question "what the fuck were you thinking?" That he’d come around? Like no man in your life has ever come around? That San was the one? No, that San was going to believe that you were the one? 'Well, yeah', he should have, because you are the fucking one. You did so much for him, you could have done so much more for him, and it frustrates you.

“What are you grinning for, you motherfucker?”, you ask, as you peek over and see that Seonghwa has lowered his sunglasses and staring into your empty eyes, searching for a sign of life. You asked, but you don't really need the answer, the picture is drawn perfectly in front of you. Seonghwa is smirking for the same reasons he’s telling you all of this; it’s pretty clear.

“I like it when you’re bossy,” he chuckles, having become more than ‘a bit cocky’ with you, “unlike San. He hates that, right? He’s so weak-hearted, how can he—“

“You’re his friend, Seonghwa,” you insist and grit your teeth, pushing up his sunglasses again with your two fingers, poking into the middle of the lens to make it greasy.

“Friends can say things about each other!”, he giggles gullibly, and scrunches his face together.

All you can say is that Seonghwa sounds and looks moronic in those square sunglasses, senseless and boozed out of his mind, but in the short moment he licks his sharp canine teeth, you suppose that this is exactly how you need him to be.

“You listen to everything, don’t you?”, you ask him, giving into his touch, pushing your back profile so close to him, that there is no touchable space left between you two. Ass pressed against his pelvic area, you breathe heavily into his face that’s glued to your temple. “Every single night I come over to fuck your roommate?”

“Noise-cancelling can only do so much, and your sound is addicting,” Seonghwa pouts— babbling his truths like it’s water falling out of his mouth— and when you see his pink lip shine under the flashing lights, your mind disorients. He is still the pretty boy that says pretty words, even when he's probably faking all of it; he is getting your insides all fuzzy, and you are still being lured in by him, but not for the reasons Seonghwa would enjoy them to.

You’re chasing the feeling of his comfort and you know it. You’re chasing after the man that won’t leave you alone. Or no, you are alone— so fucking lonely because of him even— but you don’t want to be alone, you don’t want him to leave you alone.

San.

San.

Fuck. San.

The feeling of drowning in San’s praise, in his words, inside his bedroom, muffled by his sheets, it hunts you, it makes you feel watched, and it makes you feel like you’re hungry for something you can’t digest. Every word he has said to you is written in your memories in special font, and even though he is out of sight, San will always stay in your mind. Does he do it on purpose? Leave marks, with both words and his lips? To profit off of your yearning? To make himself feel better? To own something? To feel proud? Does he say it that loud on purpose, too? To make his roommate hear him? To make his roommate feel bad in order to feel good?

Maybe he does. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe San doesn't know Seonghwa is listening at all, maybe he doesn't care about any of it.

"Your pretty sounds," Seonghwa repeats himself, his face pressed against your cheek and you roll your eyes at his lips grazing your skin, his heavy breath from his nose warming it up.

These two men are woven by the same needle, knitted with the same material for they say surprisingly similar things and act surprisingly same, but for some reason, it does not feel the same. It is not the same. It should be the same. It should be the fucking same, fuck! You’re going to explode. The way that your head is spinning, your hips swinging, music ringing— people screeching, feet stomping— everything is happening around and inside you. Head, shoulders, knees and toes, livid. Brain, guts, uterus, livid. Let’s not talk about your heart or else we have to start over again. Just forget about your heart and think about the things that are of use tonight. What can you focus on? You can focus on your body glowing hot, but you could also focus on Seonghwa, whose baggy pants is rubbing against your thin minidress. It’s Seonghwa that you wanted, right? Or was it Seonghwa you were supposed to want, because he is the one that wants you back? — No, fuck, let's re-roll, quickly; Seonghwa is grinding against you right now, from behind, and that's exactly what you imagined, wasn't it? Under these lights, under this influence, this is what you wanted, wasn't it?

With the state of your mind, you can not agree with anything; your thoughts sound foreign and it's not your voice speaking, when you grind your ass back. It also doesn't feel like it's your eyes that you're seeing with; Seonghwa’s smile behind of you is becoming blurry and there’s just one more face that’s slowly appearing from the front-ends of your head. There’s a catch though; what you’re seeing is not the soft face you usually cup with your delicate hands and observe in awe when he sleeps, it’s not the face that lights up when he sees you enter through his front door, it's a face that's reading a text message from his fucking ex in the morning and immediately forgets that you're next to him, available as available can be.

It is actually going to make you puke, right here and there. All your emotions, all your ambitions, all of your fucking dreams. Who is San to you? What is he? You’ve known him for what, a year? — Okay fuck, that’s actually more than you thought, but still, it’s not like San and you have met up in any way that wasn’t purely sexual during all the time you knew him. Know him. You don’t know San. You don’t know shit about him. What are you— San and you? What are you going to be? Boyfriend, girlfriend? Has a nice ring to it, but fuck no, right? There are too many girls, right? Which is why you wanted to get yourself another man too, right?

“Come on, Y/N, forget him.”

While you have alcohol and molly inside you, singing two different songs of lust and desire, Seonghwa is moving his legs according to yours and pressing himself more against you. He’s one sadistic dipshit if Seonghwa thinks you could forget any of what you just went through just by moaning into your ear, but you're going with it.

You can't feel a lot right now, except that Seonghwa’s bulge perfectly fits in the space of your ass, rubbing up and down between the two circular shapes, getting himself more erected with every passing beat.

This whole situation is so fucked up and messy.

But, add one more: You are fucked up and messy. The music is building up loudly and people are shaking their bodies next to you, dancing in the high they've reached long time ago, eyes having lost any sign of concentration or sobriety, and you came here to contemplate whether you’re going to have a one-night-stand to prove a point, mixing drugs to get it on faster. You feel quicker, no, you are quick, rushing from one thought to another like you’re fleeing from your inner voices, both the devil and angel. They’re useless in this situation, they have too much reason.

And you don't need any reasons to think you're in the right to fuck him. Seonghwa’s hands are on your abdomen and gently massaging the skin, making you feel like he thinks you’re valuable, but you both know that this dance you’re holding right now barely cost you anything but 10 dollars in cash.

The red lasers haven’t stopped. They are pointing upwards or downwards for you, but you guess, from the way you’re watching Seonghwa’s lips right now, there’s only one way down. There has always been only one way down.

San chooses an ex over you? Then you’ll choose his dumb fucking roommate over him. Two can play this game, and even if he’s had the lead, you’re going to make your play. Is it going to hurt him? You don’t know. Maybe it won’t. But at least it will be over, right? At least this fucking thing will be over.

“Kiss me, Seonghwa.”

“You serious? I thought San was all up your mind right now.”

“Oh my fucking god, just do it before I take it back.”

“LET’S GET FUCKING INSANE”

Seonghwa doesn’t let you ask twice. While people all around you are turning up to the beat-drop, he pulls your chin up and clashes his lips against yours. His teeth clank against you lip and there's a short, piercing pain there, but Seonghwa's high chuckle blows it away. It’s a violent kiss, but mind-numbing enough so maybe you can forget why you decided to kiss him in the first place. While your lips are working against each other, his hand is sliding down to your groin and it's dangerously close to the seam of your tiny dress. One tug and your whole leg is revealed to the crowd, but you don't look down to see how naked Seonghwa is making you; all you see is yourself, in the reflection of his square sunglasses.

His tongue is electrifying, when it forces its entry into your mouth. It’s long and tastes deliciously foreign- a mixture of alcohol and tobacco, which you haven't experienced in pair since a long time. San, no, “he” (this is what you’ll call him now) doesn’t smoke, which at first, you considered as a big win, because you were passively inhaling all the smoke from your prior flings that you’d had the feeling your lungs were being polluted. Yet a year later, you’re clean— cleaner than never before, you should be able to breathe, you should be able to think clearly, but you can’t. Did you think he was pure? Was it that? That he was this untouched man? Maybe he was. Maybe he was, when he was still a nerd who had never heard a woman say the word “sex” in his— or had he? Fuck, had he? You don’t know, you couldn’t have known. ‘He’ was a façade, wasn’t it? He turned into another person immediately, didn’t he?

Let's get back on Seonghwa’s lips.

You're reminded of your lost freedom and as much it drives you insane, it's driving you into a state of pure, adventurous lust. The way Seonghwa works across your slick tongue is animalistic and wild, and you feel like you’re being pursued with no escape. To catch your breaths a little bit, Seonghwa lets go off your chin and thigh, turning you around so he can have better access to your mouth. Not letting the enlivening music go to waste, he presses his lips on yours the second you inhaled for the second time.

You slip your hands under his knitted top, running them up and down his breast, his abs and abdomen to feel his muscles and skin. It’s only a matter of time until he asks you to move off the dance floor, but your alcohol is bombarding you with sweet suggestions you can’t let pass without saying. His exposed skin feels cold under your fingers, but when you cup his hardened erection through the fabric with your hand and move it according to Seonghwa’s tongue slicking against yours, he radiates heat.

“Fuck,” Seonghwa pants into the kiss and you hum, continuing to tease him on this godless dance floor. Nobody has their senses right and is observing you two making out with dozy eyes, nobody cares about anything here. There’s only right now, the song the DJ is playing for the mindless crowd of drugged, intoxicated people. Let’s get insane.

You try to get a good feel of Seonghwa’s cock and its girth with your hand. “You’re big,” you murmur, catching air again, “smaller than San though.”

And there you have it, men are so easy to galvanize.

“Say that again, you fucking cunt,” Seonghwa growls and digs his fingers into your ass, eyebrows pulled down so hard that his forehead could explode.

“Why? ‘Cause you’re better than him?”, you taunt him and click with your tongue, catching a breath. “You’re no better than Sannie,” you sneer, pointing at your hickey with your finger to remind him (but mostly yourself), “don’t think you could be.”

Seonghwa goes fucking angry. Apparently he thinks he’s done so much for you, has been so nice to you, has helped you, whatever, and this is how you show him your thanks. Grabbing your hair, he pushes his forehead against yours and you catch a glimpse of his darkened eyes, feeling the stinging pain from the impact linger, while he talks. His breath is scarce from having kissed you, so he’s trying his best to use his voice to taunt you.

"San is probably fucking his fucking ex-girlfriend right now, do you think you're any better than him, huh, slut? You are the one who's so fucking desperate to get him to love you, and you're still here with me, and you're kissing me, so we're both in the wrong, you fucking whore."

His words don’t mean anything to you, visiting the synapses of your brain, but leaving right after. You just grin with your eyelids covering half of your eye and Seonghwa realizes nothing is arriving inside your sweet, broken mind. Your cheeks are red from the lack of oxygen, drugs and you’re flushed at the cause of his libidinous touch, and Seonghwa sees he's been working around your hair a little bit too much, having ruffled it up to the point that a comb-through will not amount to a lot. You look like a crazy person to him, but nothing attracts a joke more than a hard-hitting punchline.

“We're both single,” is what you lull to correct him, licking over your lips that you can't feel anymore since Seonghwa has kissed them numb. "And I think that's all that matters."

You both hear the music come to an exhilarating high and slowly reach your evaporating point.

“You sound like San,” Seonghwa giggles and he probably thinks it's going to push you over, but it doesn't. He’s still staring into you like he’s searching for a weak spot, but you’re persistent, you’re needy, and while you are weak, you are unforgivably yourself, Y/N.

You smash both your hands on each of his cheeks and you look at yourself through the sunglasses, sneering, "Good. San is a better name to moan."

He scoffs and smiles so condescendingly sweet again, but out of his mouth comes nothing worthwhile. "I'm going to fuck your voice out of your fucking throat, you're never going to moan ‘San’ ever fucking again," he growls and you drench yourself in his vulgarity, kissing him repeatedly.

"Never again," Seonghwa repeats himself, digging his thumbs into your ribs, but his tone isn't as forcing as it is... begging. Asking—demanding you to put all your attention on him, like he knows your heart isn't his and he desperately wants to possess yours. Oh, he definitely knows. You're not fooling anybody, at least didn't try to, but Seonghwa is gullible enough to fall for your tricks, how it seems like. San is painted on your body all the while your dance partner is speaking through his heavy breathing; painted on your neck, in your eyes, it’s annoying Seonghwa, it distracts him, it makes him see red, and not the colour on your skin.

"Awww, do you want me to only moan your name tonight?", you baby Seonghwa, mocking that he's finally revealed his motivations behind all of this. At least you think you've hit the nail in the coffin, when you pout to mirror Seonghwa’s expression.

Seonghwa's greatest sin isn't lust, it's envy. It could be any girl coming and leaving their dorm, moaning San’s name through the thin walls, never to be seen again and he wouldn't bat a second eye, but you— Y/N? San letting a woman like you go without further notice sickens him, like a crime, like a mistake. To hear your voice be pleasured by San at night, and then hear you sing good-bye to the man who does not care as much as he does in the morning, that has sent Seonghwa into a spiral of jealousy, but you’re not sure why. Some fucked-up reason probably, though it doesn’t seem like an ex is the cause this time. Maybe it’s really just because of you.

Sorry to say that you don’t care about that though. Not one single fucking bit. You don't want any of that complex trauma-talk tonight. You want to have sex and forget the sex right after.

"Be mine tonight, Y/N," Seonghwa answers and his eyebrows are pushed in to his forehead. He looks sultry, at least the parts you can see. Sultry, passionate, ready to fuck you, no, desperate to fuck you, in fact, you can feel the pre-cum soak his pants, when you cup his girth.

“You’re so pathetic,” you smirk, “it might actually be worth a try.” Seonghwa lets out a breathy exhale, finally breaking. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the molly, or his issues that suddenly took over his conscience, but he doesn’t have any of that left. He grabs you by your wrist with a grip that leaves a white mark, and without forewarning, Seonghwa yanks you through the people.

You hit each and every one of the strangers on your way to wherever. Shoulder hitting against shoulder, breast against breast, it better not leave any more bruising that you already have on your neck. “Seong- wha!”, you wheeze, tumbling at his force, tripping over your own feet over and over. The hall is huge, and he’s seemingly seeking to get to the very end of it.

“Seonghwa!”, you repeat yourself, but he won't listen to you. You're being pulled into a rollercoaster of anything but emotions (at least for you) and you can hear laughter leave your mouth without reason as you pass by irritated people who find it impolite to be barging into the big crowd like this. This dude's crazy, they scorn, but they don't really look that lucid as well, you find, with the last bits of thinking you can do.

"Where are we going?", you ask, but mostly to reassure that you still have a sense for geographical knowledge. You can see the bar again, mobs of people dancing on the stairs so that it's shaking even more compared to how you two had left it, but most importantly, you see that this is a space that's occupied by your kind. So much skin. So many slutty outfits. Outfits? Lingerie. This side looks like a fucking strip-club. Are you at a strip-club? What the fuck is this place? No, seriously, what the fuck is this place?

Seonghwa is finally stopping and you catch a breath from the running. With him doing his weird hand-signs again, you recognize the security guard from the beginning, smiling under his sunglasses, showing an "OK"-sign and pointing to the back of the stairs. You could swear he winked at you.

"What the fuck?", you ask, but Seonghwa only shrugs, making you follow his backwards steps under the stairs, where in black graffiti 'MY PEOPLE DONT BELIEVE IN LOVE' is smeared all over the wall. The same walls are occupied by couples or at least people making out wildly with their eyeliners smeared beyond repair. Is this some sex-area? (No idea) Is this legal? (100% no) Does Seonghwa look so fucking hot without his top on? (Fuck) He does.

Your eyes go cross-eyed, when Seonghwa enters the most mirrored bathroom you've ever seen in a warehouse, but before you can question the fact why people invest in decorating a fucking porta-potty, the male is pulling off his knitted top with one smooth pull, barely waiting a second for you to close the door behind you. The vibrations of the music ring on the metal stairs over you, and you feel like the beat is mushing your brain one size smaller, when you're met by Seonghwa barging at your body.

Pushing you against the plastic door, you feel all of Seonghwa's naked torso with your hands stroking roughly over his skin, and you admire his jewellery sitting on his collarbones, getting your fingers at it around his neck to pull him closer. "You like my necklace?", Seonghwa murmurs, as he pushes his lips into the crook of your neck.

"Choke on it," you gutter and yank him upwards, kissing him. While you do so and Seonghwa begins to unclothe you by getting your arms up, you catch a glimpse of yourself through the mirror. Your hair isn't looking as silky as it did when you left your home, there's mascara smudged around your eye already, but if you're not mistaken, and you can see it by how Seonghwa is sucking your nipples the second your bra falls to the floor, you will look worse in no time.

But that's not to say that you aren't still looking gorgeous. You look bewitchingly sexy, eyelids fluttering with each of Seonghwa's eager touches that are tracing down your body. "Fuck, you look so good," he murmurs and he's trying to keep his eyes open in order to see you. He's gotten you naked pretty quick considering the circumstance, you would've wished for a bit more foreplay here, but maybe it's a reoccuring theme to be impatient.

"You are such a fucking gorgeous girl, San doesn't know what he's missing right now," Seonghwa wheezes and goes through his hair, once he has your dress dropping on the dirty floor, revealing your joke of underwear. If he had kept your bra, he would have seen that you've worn a matching set of burgundy lingerie, but Seonghwa's mouth is still drooling at your pair of perfect thighs, his hand stroking over his lips. You roll your eyes at him and lean your head against the plastic door. You've done such a good job forgetting his name, and here's this dumbass mentioning him again. "You bet your ass he's missing this, huh?", you snarl and play with your own breast with one hand, while the other is cupping Seonghwa's rib, gliding down to his v-line, where his throbbing cock is awaiting you.

"He doesn't deserve you, Y/N."

He wheezes again. It seems like Seonghwa is taking his last breaths, unable to form words since your fingers are exploring how quick they can get to his erection.

"And you do?", you snap back and scoff. He pushes his glasses up to his forehead and for the first time since a long time, you can see Seonghwa's eyes shimmer. Oh fuck, you think, and it's difficult to not kiss him again. You're a bitch. You know you're a bitch for not caring about his feelings, and you know you will indeed not be better than San if you ghost this man right after this evening, but it must be done. For your sake, at least.

"I do," Seonghwa answers, though a lot weaker and less confident than he used to be before. You sigh. He may think he deserves you, but you don't deserve him. His gaze is too sweet, you've got to put those sunglasses back on, if you don't want to develop something. The only thing you can look at to get your mind elsewhere is yourself, in the mirror.

"Don't try to prove yourself," you murmur and Seonghwa wraps his arms around your back and props you by your thigh to lift you up. You can see his back muscle tense up, as he has you steadily in his grip. "I'm not," he answers and there's something that's fluttering inside your breast, when Seonghwa licks up your jawline, because you feel everything; From how wet his tongue is, how warm his saliva sits on your skin to the way what an adoring look Seonghwa is wearing on his face, as he kisses you. "I got nothing to prove to you."

You smirk and see yourself looking very dozy, drunken on alcohol, drugged by MDMA, ducked by Seonghwa's hand between your legs. It's pushing between your folds and with your last bit of control you have over your body, you spread your legs for him, inviting him to get his fingers inside your panties, and of course he does.

With a grin, Seonghwa devotes his tongue to your jaw again and works it into your skin with circular motion. "So fucking wet, and I thought you didn't want to fuck me."

"Who said I wasn't going to fuck you?"

Seonghwa is too busy sucking on the other side of your neck (other side meaning the side that is still unhickey-ed) to answer, but you're persistent. You came to this place to fuck him, and you're pretty sure that nothing from what you told him tonight alluded to something else. And also, even when you're fucked out of your mind, you still have a sense for people who keep secrets. So while Seonghwa is sucking small patches of skin on your neck and you see yourself with an opened mouth with sighs leaving it that you can't hear with your own ears.

"San says things sometimes," Seonghwa murmurs and continues to plant roses on your neck that you can see appear on your skin, "but that's irrelevant now."

"What does he say?", you insist, but the charcoal-haired man puts on his sunglasses again and shakes his head. Switch. As if you hadn't had enough from men who were two-faced, Seonghwa hides his eyes, turning into an inscrutable being again. A stranger. A stranger who's groping your cunt from the front, making your groin tense up and push him closer from the back. You're wrapping him with your legs and holding onto him tightly, when he catches a breath.

"Meaningless things,” he pants and throws you over the door, your arms landing on the frail sink in front of you. The mirror expands and all of the sudden you see yourself in full quality, in all your glory and Seonghwa is only supporting you from the back. His hand is grabbing your chin and pushing it up to the mirror, his pointing finger smudging your lip. With your lips slightly opened, it just makes sense to you to lick around his finger and look at him with a demanding look, eyebrows sultrily pushed together.

"Fuck, Y/N," Seonghwa gulps and cups your breast from behind, massaging it, while he presses his hot lips on your back. "Can I eat you out? Please,” he sighs and you take his finger in, lubing it up with your saliva.

"Do whatever you fucking want," you sneer and balance yourself with two hands on the sink, as Seonghwa raises a leg and throws it over his shoulder, his pretty face planted into your pussy the second you've given him permission to. You spasm to the front, Seonghwa's hair tickling your lower abdomen, as he works his tongue over your slick folds. If his tongue was great for kissing, it's certainly great for cunnilingus too, no, maybe even better suited for it. He's reaching spots that haven't been reached by a tongue in a long time and with the wet muscle working in and out inside you, you're becoming a moaning mess with fluttering eyelids in no time.

"Fuuuck", you gasp, when Seonghwa kneads your ass that's extended out in the air. The sound of his slurping and the music outside assimilate and mix up, and if it wasn't for the hightened senses you got from your molly-influence, it feels like everything is hammering you down from the outside. You can feel each twitch of Seonghwa's mouth, how he smiles, how he's yelping for air, how he's licking over his lips — you're going to fall somewhere, and if it's not into the cheap sink and the mirror that's taunting you, it's in love with his tongue that’s going to make you cum.

"So soon?", Seonghwa murmurs, and two fingers begin to penetrate your gaping hole, as he flicks his tongue over your sensitive clit.

"Fuck, fuck!", you whine and Seonghwa takes note of how your entrance is tightening around him, angling his fingers towards your g-spot. "So fucking good!", you breathe and you're trying to get a glimpse of your mirrored image in front of you, but your eyes are rolling to the back of your head too much.

"Mhm~", Seonghwa hums with an amused tone, repeating a cycle of sucking and licking, pumping against your g-spot. You're flying, the loud tunes bombarding the walls of the porta-potty are slowly getting to your head and intrusing what's left of your conscious mind, only feeling the tickling sensation that is being eaten out by none other than Park Seonghwa.

Until it stops.

You were whining, announcing your impending orgasm, but he apparently had other ideas, pulling out his fingers and removing his lips from you the second you were drawing together your body, preparing for sweet release. "Don't fucking stop!", you yell and grab Seonghwa by his hair, pushing him closer to your cunt by force. "Seonghwa!"

Seonghwa, who you don't know if he seriously just wanted to be called by his name in this situation, chuckles in witticism and wraps his arm around your thigh, getting the other leg over his shoulder too. You're sitting up front now, and there is no space for him to get his finger anywhere near your cunt, but his tongue is more than enough.

"Make me cum or I'm gonna fucking leave, you fucking asshole," you growl and grip a big chunk of his hair to get your message across. The man below you moans and resumes his job, clearly attracted by your lust-driven dominance. 'I like it when you're bossy', you re-call, and before you can finish the quote in your head, Seonghwa has plunged his tongue into your cunt.

"Ungh, fuck!", you moan, a bit more sensitive and distorted this time. Trying to hold your heavy upper body straight, Seonghwa is laving at your cunt, driving you crazy with the speed of his tongue maneuvering inside you. Maybe it was better that Seonghwa edged you, because now every flick is shooting you further into the abyss of pleasantry. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," you stutter, the second wave of the overwhelming euphoria gathering itself like a tsunami.

Seonghwa is more relaxed than you are, though his whole face is busy being used to pleasure you. His nose is dug into your clit and he's shaking his head around to be able to tickle it all during the while he's cutting away his breath to pant into your heat and spreading your slick on his tastebuds.

"Make me cum," you whine, "make me cum with your tongue!"

"Say 'please Seonghwa'," Seonghwa smirks and has the tip of his tongue placed on your clitoris just enough for your orgasm to not be washed away, but definitely not coming, while you grip more of his hair.

"You fucking bitch, I'll never fucking—", you pant, but there's no other way around it. You need this orgasm. "You—"

Seonghwa looks up to you and you can see him waiting. Pushing your thighs together because he annoys you so much, you yank his head closer to your cunt and scream, "okay, fuck, make me fucking cum, Seonghwa, please!"

The man between your thighs chuckles through his nose and once you said the magic-words, he opens his mouth back open to lap around your clit and cunt like a mad dog. Having been denied your orgasm for the second time, the third attempt to chase it down hits you even more, making you breathe heavily and loudly, and this time, the strings are pulling you to total stupification.

"Please, please, please, Seonghwa, please—"

Repeating the words Seonghwa wants to hear so bad again and again, you're fuelling his decision to finally allow you to come. His tongue circles around your clit as if he was racing with the music and your face is parallel to the floor, when your body goes lax and the strands of Seonghwa's hair are the only thing keeping you up.

"Seonghwa, please," you whisper again, weak, and almost sent over the top, while Seonghwa growls under you, his tongue stroking over your sensitive bud until you're shaking and pressing your legs together. "Fuck!", you scream out and Seonghwa throws one leg away from his shoulder, your wobbly foot landing on the floor, when the male stands up and gets to fingers into your cunt.

"Seonghwa, please—", you gasp, when he rams them into your throbbing arousal that barely reached its high and you have to get your arms around his neck if your knees are still worth something to you. "Oh my fucking god," and other moans come spurred out of you and Seonghwa bites into your shoulder to add another stimulative pain to all the sensations you're feeling.

His fingers are long and slender and for all you can grasp, they know what they're doing, when they're driving in and out with no mercy. That this is Seonghwa, you don't really care, that this isn't San, you do just a little bit, but "caring" takes a bit too long in the brain anyway. If your first orgasm from his tongue made your head fly, the second one is evaporating it. Your head feels light and corrupted by the DJ screaming inaudible things into his set, an artificially deepened laughing-track following his ad-lib and your lower body is trembling like a new-born deer, when Seonghwa keeps pushing against your soft patch inside. “Stop— stop, Seonghwa—“, you pant and your legs hold Seonghwa's wrist until he wiggles it out.

"You good?", Seonghwa laughs. He walks behind you and raises your face by your chin, pressing his own cheek next to yours, so both of your faces are seen in the mirror, his pelvis pushed against your ass again.

"Uh-huh," you shudder, your runny mascara making your eyes sticky, "very good."

He smiles, though it's definitely not a friendly smile. This isn't what friends do. It never will be something that friends do and you try to find some type of sanity behind your sunken irises, but there's nothing there. There is someone knocking on the door, Seonghwa's phone is vibrating in his pants, and like the bad person you are, you can't stop to wish that behind at least one of these interruptions is a certain someone is waiting for you, asking for you or anything— fuck. It's worse Seonghwa somehow knows what you're thinking, taking out his phone with his free hand, your face still being cupped by the other.

"You think this is him, don't you?", he asks and lets his temple drop against the top of your head, "Let's bet."

"If you think I'm gonna bet on something like that," you hiss and grind your bare ass against his clothed cock to distract him from the fact he's correct, “you’re a fucker.”

"I'm gonna fuck you, so I don't know where you're coming from here."

You scoff and throw his phone into the sink, when Seonghwa seemingly opens the message and starts to grin.

"Seonghwa," and you know you're lying through your teeth here with the full awareness that Seonghwa probably knows that you’re lying as well, "I want you," and yet you have the very secure feeling that you got into his head.

"Hm, what?", he asks and looks confused, unable to be angry that you snatched his phone out of his hand. You smirk for a short time and lean into his hand that's stroking your cheek. "I want you, Seonghwa," you sigh and pout. If you can't commit, you might as well commit to the lie, right? Be a little opportunistic.

"I don't care about San," you whisper and Seonghwa pulls down his glasses, making him human again.

"Really now…”

Choi San: the connection is so bad Choi San: where are you right now?

You nod and there’s a black-tinted tear rolling down your cheek, warm and melting on your skin. Seonghwa takes his thumb and glides it over the flow and holds his hand at your cheek again.

Choi San: i saw her Choi San: wtf she looked so different

You both saw the message and you both decided to ignore it. It doesn't matter anymore, his hand was already between your legs, your arousal has already coated his fingers.

That's how this works.

His touch, caressing your woeful face, his eyes pitying your pain. He's still erected, definitely impatient, but Seonghwa has something that you haven't experienced for a long time. You don't want to think of it, you can't think of it, because it might just be an illusion, but when Seonghwa slides his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, you have to suppress the suffocating feeling that you must never see this man ever again, if you don't want to carry this burden with you. You can't tell yourself enough, you do not want Seonghwa.

But it's nice.

"Look at yourself, Y/N. Look how pretty you are."

It's nice to know that someone wants you. That someone cares to wipe away the tears from your eyes, though they're not tears formed by a sadness you’d be able to express, a sadness that encourages you to hold eye contact with yourself, as Seonghwa whispers words of comfort into your ear. "Don't cry, pretty girl," he murmurs, and it feels like the music is being subdued around you. You've fallen from grace. “You could have anything in the world..”

How nice would it be, if he was right? You’re not sad, you have everything you could, don’t you? It could be this is just another lie you're going to commit to to protect yourself, but Seonghwa is holding you by your throat, cutting your airflow. The blood curdles in your head and while the male behind you is opening up his pants, the phone blinks.

Seonghwa and you both look down. Incoming call: Choi San.

"Oh," Seonghwa exhales and immediately checks for your reaction in the mirror, but your expression is empty. The drugs are fogging your mind and there is no ounce of vitality behind your eyes.

Seonghwa turns the phone around. "Fuck me first, Seonghwa," you tell him, your voice wispy, barely understandable, he probably had to lip-read in order to understand what you were saying, "let's get it over with."

He doesn't appreciate your dismissive tone, but Seonghwa is too horny to say anything against it, pushing you over the sink, grabbing his cock and placing it near your cunt. While your abdomen is pressed against the dirty, cold surface, Seonghwa is murmuring something under his breath and gliding his hot, throbbing erection across your pulsating folds. "I don't care at all," you whine, trying to convince yourself and ignore the continuous buzzing from his phone, but also make him hurry up. There's an end-goal you're chasing here.

"Kiss me," you order the male behind you, and as he finally positions his tip at your entrance, Seonghwa tilts your head to the side, ripping your gaze away from his mobile. "You really like kissing, don't you?", he huffs and smirks, pushing himself into you in one slow thrust. "Fuuuck," you breathe, feeling your walls expand for his length, "what about it?"

"I just think it's sweet. It makes it more personal, doesn't it?"

"Come on, Hwa, are you trying to make me angry again? I'm getting tired here," you purl and visibly roll your eyes at him, your eyelids getting heavier with each word that's spoken out loud. Your body weighs into Seonghwa's arms and if he doesn't hurry up, you'll fall asleep, your pulsating cunt tightening around his girth.

"Sweetheart, let me talk," he says, in a soft voice that makes your heart drop. You don't want him, you don't want his sweetness, fuck, you only wanted Seonghwa for this one night, for his dick and dick only, why is he trying to get inside your head? Don't do it, you try to mouth to him. You don't know him, he doesn't know you, his cock is inside your cunt, this is the worst timing to—

"You're something else."

"Seonghwa, stop, before you say anything too nice. Just close your mouth, this isn't good for both of us, you already said we're bad people. You know we don't want this," you mutter and start moving your ass to somehow get his mind elsewhere, but through his whimpers and low moans, Seonghwa won't stop grunting under the influence.

"No, speak for god-damn yourself, because, shit, Y/N, I can't watch it anymore, okay? Every day and night— You come over and let yourself be played by San, that fucking asshole, and I just think—"

"Seonghwa, shut the fuck up!", you scream and you're a breath away from pulling his cock out your cunt and leave this place naked, but just when you thought you can't do it anymore, Seonghwa has gotten his hands on your hips, digging his fingernails into your skin as if he's trying to hopelessly keep you close, his pelvis clapping against your ass, as he strikes into you.

Surprised, you moan and your fingers slip against the edge of the sink, strands of your hair falling in front of your face. You weren't prepared for that kind of vigor.

"Don't you dare think I'm that pathetic," he growls and thrusts into you with force in a rhythm that is terrifyingly close to the music outside, his cock slamming against your inner wall, making your legs close up by themselves.

"I'm not thinking I could treat you better," Seonghwa huffs and gets the hair away from your face, grabbing your hair to clear up your view, "I'm thinking what a fucking cockslut you are, Y/N."

Drugs never make sad people happier. Never make broken people whole.

So even when Seonghwa makes you realize that none of the men in your life have ever taken you serious, a hoarse laugh leaves your mouth, and you tilt your head to the back to examine the traces of them on your neck. Your eyes glisten with the way you're being fucked from behind and your mouth is not closing, you've lost control over yourself a long time ago, and it's not when this long day started with you in San's bed, it's when he took off your shirt on that random night during exam season.

"You're lucky you're pretty," he grunts and you chuckle, smiling absent-minded, upper body see-sawing with Seonghwa's pelvis-movement. Your ass is slowly hurting from how hard he is driving himself in, but you're too busy looking at your neck.

Red, red, red. A little bit of purple. A big patch here, small spots over there; anyone could look at you and would know that you've been claimed by someone. Maybe even think that you're, gasp, in a relationship! They wouldn't guess it was two people to leave these hickeys, and frankly, they would be right to think you're claimed by one person only.

"San said he'd fuck me stupid," you giggle— you're fetching old memories from your mind, re-painting the colors, completing the gaps like a mandala; the same memories from the older days which you wouldn't call better, but certainly easier; from days where you didn't have to worry about a man breaking your heart.

Seonghwa scoffs and grabs you by your tit, pulling your nipple with harsh tugs, the sensitive, delicate nub being wounded by his aggressiveness. He's stopped being gentle a long time ago, leaving a big star-shaped mark on your ass by clapping the surface of his hand.

"San said I'm his whore," you reminisce, biting your teeth through the pain, and Seonghwa is speeding up his thrusting, his cock angled inside you to entirely fill out your tight space.

"San said—"

Seonghwa has had enough. He's pressing the surface of his hand onto your mouth and nose, silencing you, cutting you short of your air, your eyes rolling back, but it doesn't prevent your thoughts to continue tumbling down. Seonghwa may be jolting his hips into you like his life depends on it, and in a way, that may be true, but he'll never pleasure you like San could.

People-pleaser. San said he was a people-pleaser.

You don't remember the orgasm, you don't remember Seonghwa's loud grunt into your ear, you don't remember how much hot cum he ejaculated into you, how panicked the black-haired was, when he asked you whether you took the pill, how quickly he became sober and put his clothes back on, the speed of time seemingly passing like a rocket-ship, the music never stopping to blitz into your brain, how the porta-potty became really fucking empty, once Seonghwa left it, but what you do remember is how you took his phone that he forgot like the dumb-ass he was, and how weak your voice sounded, when you answered San's call that by some magical way, kept ringing in.

"Can you come fetch me?"

"Who is this?"

"Come fetch me, please."

"Y/N?"

And people-pleasers should do anything to keep their people happy.

Especially if they're Choi San and avoidant of conflict.

part 4: coming soon!

[randombrambles]

Okay...going to wade into the Sabezra discussion. May the flying spaghetti monster in sky have mercy on my soul...

I guess you could call me a "causal viewer" because, despite being a life long Star Wars fan, I'd never watched an episode of Rebels before watching Ahsoka. I just never got around to it and I've only watched a handful of eps of The Clone Wars too. But anyway once I started Ahsoka I was like "this show will clearly make more sense if I watch Rebels" so I started. I'm almost done season 3 of Rebels as of writing this post. And really loving Rebels btw. Part of me of like "why didn't I watch this earlier?" but on the other hand I don't have to wait for the next episode and I know the major spoilers already so I'm not going to get the rug yanked out from under me.

So back to Ahsoka and Sabezra...the big questions. Did I see the romance "coding" (not sure I agree "coding" is the right word but whatever, that's semantics) in Ahsoka? Yes. Sabine's actions definitely come across as her being in love with Ezra to me. That said I can also see the platonic angle, especially after having watched some of Rebels, so I'm not going to tell anyone they are wrong for viewing Sabine and Ezra's relationship as platonic. These things are subjective and open to interpretation until anything definitively romantic or definitively not romantic happens on screen. And at this point nothing definitive has happened either way on screen. Nobody has been proven right and nobody has been proven wrong yet. Sabezra is basically schrodinger's cat right now.

Next how did I interpret the "like a sister" line in Ezra's holo. Um...full disclosure the first time I viewed that scene I didn't even register that he'd said she was "like a sister" to him. I'd never even seen Rebels at that point so I didn't know Ezra yet. So as a causal viewer my take away from that scene was Ezra meant a lot to Sabine and Sabine meant a lot to Ezra. And I'd be wiling to bet that that was the takeaway for most causal viewers.

So on rewatch do I think the "like a sister" line means that Ezra truly sees Sabine as a sister? No. On rewatch, paying close attention to the body language, and after having watched some Rebels, I think Ezra is both struggling to find the words to tell Sabine how important she is to him and telling her what he thinks she needs to hear in that moment. The problem is that in English we don't have a word to describe someone isn't technically family but who isn't a lover either but who's also way more than "just" a friend. Sister is the best word Ezra can come up with in that moment but you can tell from his awkward body language and his literal scoff as soon as he says it that its not the right word. And yeah I think Ezra thinks that Sabine sees him as a brother so he tells her what he thinks she wants to hear right before he heads of on what very well could have been a suicide mission.

Do I think Sabezra is going to be made canon on Tuesday's final episode of Ahsoka (of season 1 at least). No, but hold on nobody panic!!! I also don't think that means Sabezra is dead in the water either. And frankly I'm kind of mystified as to why Sabezra shippers seem to think that the next episode is make or break for Sabezra when its clearly not? If there isn't a love declaration or a kiss or both (which is what I'm assuming people would interpret can them being made canon) its not like either Sabine or Ezra are going to marry someone else on Tuesday either. And since much of Ahsoka has been set up, meaning not much is actually going to get resolved in the next ep (Thrawn hasn't even left Perida[?] yet! I fear we are ending on a cliff hanger), we'll be seeing Sabine and Ezra again. There's no rush for them to get together romantically (and I know that's hard to hear for people who've been shipping for years but its true).

And further to the "there's no rush" point I actually have to say I that I think its WAY too soon for anything definitively romantic to happen between Ezra and Sabine yet (and again I get how hard that is for those who've been shipping them for a long time). And I say that as both a "casual viewer" and someone who's also watched a good chunk of Rebels now. For the causal viewer who hasn't watched Rebels, which is probably a big chunk of the audience for Ahsoka, they barely know Sabine, have just met Ezra and have only seen them interacting for ONE episode and don't know any of their history. A kiss or a love declaration would seem out of the blue at this point I think. And as someone who's getting into Rebels I still think its too soon. While I agree that Sabine is very likely in love with Ezra I don't think she's admitted to herself yet (that's why Baylan used the word family when he was getting her to hand over the map thingy imho) no way is she ready to tell HIM. And as for Ezra...dude is clueless that Sabine might might have non platonic feelings for him so no way is he going to risk ruining their friendship by blurting out that he's in love with her. And not only that they've been separated for 10 YEARS ffs. They need to get to know each other again before anything romantic can happen, again imho. I want Sabezra to become canon but I want it done WELL. Sabezra is a friends to lovers ship, they are still firmly in the friends stage right now, it needs to be a sloooooow burn.

And finally do I think Sabezra will become canon? Honestly...I don't know. I'd like it to, it would be really nice to have a non problematic ship, especially after the sequel trilogy robbed us of FinnRey and tried to force freaking r*ylo. But I think Filoni and the other powers that be over at DLF (he is NOT the sole person calling the shots here, keep that in mind everyone) are probably testing the waters right now and waiting to see what the audience reactions are like before they make any decisions. I'd be wiling to bet that by the end of Tuesday's episode the door will be left wide open for pretty much anything to happening shipping wise. So we'll just have to wait and see. Time will tell, it always does.

[onecantsimply]

If you’re still doing yandere Jack the Ripper requests, can I requests one where he has a very sweet S/O who speaks another language? (I.e. Spanish, French, etc…) get creative as you want with this one!!

I love your content btw💕🙌🏻!!

Thank you- I’m glad you enjoy reading it-

-

• God, Jack just melts whenever you speak to him in a different language. Especially French- That man could literally have heart eyes the moment he hears your words.

• He wants to hear it more, and he’ll even learn the language just to hear you speak even more.

• But he wants to learn it from you specifically. To have you by his side and personally teaching… it makes him feel so warm inside.

• If he does find out that you’re having to do something, and it interrupts with his time with you, he’ll get rid of that problem immediately. He wants all of your attention on him, and he won’t tolerate anything pulling you away.

• Love has always been a fickle thing to Jack. He knew he couldn’t have a normal type of it when he saw and heard you. Any words you speak with some of your language included into it made him melt instantly, feeling the butterflies in his stomach simply flying around.

• The fact that you’d bother to use your own language with him… He feels nothing short of infatuated.

• Every day after his own lessons, he tries to remember everything you’ve taught. Jack may as well forget some English because of how hard he’s been trying to learn.

• So the fact that you might have something disturbing your time with him sets off alarms that he immediately needs to get going to get rid of it.

• But if he can’t, he’s following you and making sure you’re safe. Even if it’s a forgotten errand, who knows? You could get mugged. Injured. Kidnapped. K i l l e d ? He wouldn’t allow that, even if it’s just overthinking.

• Jack watches everything over, making sure nothing goes wrong while you finish what you need to do.

• Alright, if it’s family that’s bothering you, Jack doesn’t mind getting rid of them. Not at all. If it’s to a very bad extent, he will get rid of them. He doesn’t need them to drain you of your lovely energy now, does he? Even if you mourn, you’ll always get over it in time when he’ll be the one comforting you, eyeing your figure in the slightest of victory while you’re hugged close to him.

• You have a crush? No you don’t.

• You have a husband or wife? Not anymore HH-

• Jack will take pretty much everything away just to stay near you and learn as much about your language as it takes. To him, it’s perfectly valid, even if he knows that what he’s doing is completely wrong.

• He doesn’t need anyone taking your time away from him. The constant need for attention and the knowledge of your languages have him in such a chokehold that it’s insane. You’re even catching onto it.

• Of course, Jack loves you aside from those languages. He may as well be obsessed with everything else you have.

• Your voice was the one thing that allured him in the first place. Something that made him look towards you as he saw the joyful colors within your body.

• Your looks was something he felt himself curious of. Even if it may be the same as everyone else’s, there’s something about you that caught his attention.

• Was it your internal colors? They never seemed to change, staying in that joyful shade…

• Of course, that changed once he got rid of some disturbances close to you. And the moment you had caught on.

• Jack knew you caught on when he saw your colors. And when you broke off from him, he wouldn’t allow it.

• He had personally broke in and chose to both drug and abduct you, carrying you over to his place whilst speaking of how much he loved you in the language you speak.

• Hearing it, even in your sleep, as well as feeling him kiss your forehead had made you shiver. Yet, you didn’t seem to know what you were in for yet.

• Well… Jack can determine that based on how good you are, yes-?

[cheesus-doodles]

Hey Cheesus!! Just wanted to say I loved the South post, I absolutely adore seeing brazilian culture getting more recognition, and Y/N making feijoada???? A dream come true for real (also, maybe she would make him brigadeiros as well? It's soooo good and very easy to make, everyone loves it!)

I'd like to know what are your thoughts on how the boys would react if Y/N started making more brazilian foods for them as well, to settle their jealousy!

(Also, about the translation, "meu pequeno anjo" is correct! But, if you want to, you could also use "anjinho", which is a more informal and affectionate way of saying it! "Meu pequeno anjo" can be a mouthfull, so "anjinho" is usually what we use around here!)

Anonymous asked: As a brazilian this is my time to shine!!! us brazilians love to talk about our country, so I just know south would make Coxinha for you and show you some sertanejo songs <3 btw instead of "pequeno anjo" is better if u use "anjinho", both are right it's just that the second way makes more sense :)

asdhasdaj hello from the other side of the world! its mindblowing to me that we all somehow ended up here even though physically we're so far away! glad to here yall liked that fic, here's a little follow-up, it's been a long time coming :) (and thank you for the language tips!) as usual its 5.30am here so i will edit this tomorrow ;-;

‎‎‎

Recommended Reading: A Time Long Past; A Friend In Me Chapter 1

Masterlist

‎‎

The Dawn that A New Day Brings

They were a little more misshapen than he had initially thought South had to admit, looking back down at the enormous bento box filled with neat rows of coxinha that once more saw the light of day as you ever so gently pried open the lid with small, fragile hands, the too-large box balanced carefully on your tiny lap. The comforting snack he remembered chowing down on back in a simpler time had turned out a lot flatter than what he had originally envisioned and what they really should be - looking much like burger patties instead of its supposed signature teardrop shape. But you didn't seem to even notice the odd, uneven shapes or the slightly burnt surfaces, your stomach letting out an impatient grumble as you excitedly reached out for one, only to pause right before your fingers made contact, turning those adorable doe eyes back up at him. “Are these really for me?”

The giant of a man could only laugh at your eagerness, reaching up to gingerly grind his knuckles into your hair, which earned him a quick swat of your hand and a giggled ‘stop that!’. How someone as kind, as innocent as you could exist alongside monsters, murderers like him was a question South could only wonder about, though no one would find him complaining - you never did like when he referred to himself as anything but your friend. “If you can finish them all anjinho, then yes.”

You smacked him again, this time on his arm, your bright laughter bursting forth from soft lips. “Cheeky! You know what I meant.”

It was one of those rare afternoons that had been marked as empty on your schedule for one reason or another that South couldn’t care about, and the weather despite it being the middle of summer was surprisingly pleasant - there had been a light drizzle earlier in the afternoon that threatened the lunch he had been eagerly awaiting for the past two weeks, though it had cleared up into a cloudless sky. From just round the corner came floating the sounds of chattering and games, though the rest of your schoolmates knew well to keep clear of the secluded, silent backyard no matter how much the extra space would be welcomed; even before the arrival of your latest pet delinquent or so the rumors went, the school yard had always been the territory of gangs. 

But all he could focus on in the moment was you: watching as you struggled to twist your body with the relatively enormous lunch box still balanced on your lap, his hand stabilizing the box as you did, your tongue sticking out the corner of your mouth in concentration as you attempted to grab your school bag from beside him where it was resting on the bench. How he could easily snap your back in two with one hand, crush your delicate wrist as you reached over him - but it was only you who had ever gotten away with so much, with your songbird voice that twinkled like bells when you laughed and lifted his mood. His little angel indeed. 

Finally managing to haul what looked like a bento box out, the lid to your box was carefully open. The intoxicating smell of seafood and coconut instantly burst forth into the open air, the sheer tantalizing aroma catching even South off guard as you revealed the familiar sight of yellow paste topped with shrimp and contrasted with the bright green of fresh cilantro. “Here! I made vatapá the other day for my friends, so I kept some of the paste for you!”

As if on cue, a loud growl called out from the delinquent’s stomach, as it always did when faced with your cooking, though your friend barely flinched in the face of your suppressed giggles - if it had been anyone else, they would have already found themselves at the business end of his fist. But for you, all that happened was your muffled laughter quickly escalating into full-blown laughter when his finger found your sides in precise jabs, his lip quirking up in amusement. “Is it that funny?”

“A-ah, stop that!” Was all you managed to breathe out between your guffaws. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“That’s what I thought,” South huffed, though there wasn’t a hint of malice in his voice, finally letting up for you to catch your breaths.

“You’re a big meanie, you know that?” But you still offered him the box anyway, which he gladly accepted, quickly digging in without much encouragement. He couldn’t remember feeling this happy since his childhood days; you filled that hole in his heart that fighting could never. 

So why couldn’t he keep you all to himself? Why did he let you get away? And most importantly, why did he let those Tokyo Manji bastards keep taking you away from him?

Lunch passed in relative peace, South wolfing down every bit of shrimp coconut skew and fragrant rice while you giggled at the vigor, gingerly blowing and nibbling on coxinha, the shade of the old tree keeping the sun out of yours and his eyes. And as your lunch break came into a close much quicker than either of you expected, boxes were reluctantly packed away, with the last of the coxinha that you had begged out of polished off by him, the gears in his head still turning as they had for the past week or two, staring at you unblinkingly with those harsh yellow eyes. “Thanks for the wonderful lunch,” you beamed up at him adorably, unafraid, uncaring maybe of his intense look, the brown paper bag you carried everywhere already clutched between your two hands as you made to turn away. “It was good to see you again Minami.”

This was it. This was the last chance he would have in a long time, if not ever - catching someone like you without laying a finger on your tender flesh wouldn’t be difficult, not in the slightest. You were naive, gullible to a fault. An innocent creature by any stretch, but alas your beloved friends that followed you everywhere were not. “Before you go,” he started, and you paused, cocking your head in confusion.

“What’s up?” Ah, those doe eyes, almost shimmering in the sunlight; he couldn’t wait till they were only his to enjoy.

“Nothing much anjinho, but if you have some time I want to show you my new bike.” There was no lie in that, he really did just get his hands on one; you were the sole individual he never felt comfortable lying to. And watching your face light up, it seemed that was the right decision as you quickly agreed without a second thought; taking his offered hand as he gently led you out towards the front of your school.

‎

Baji sighed again, bronze eyes scanning the flood of students flowing back and dispersing into the various classrooms from where he was leaned against outside yours. It was five minutes till your class started, and you still had yet to return from lunch. A highly unusual occurrence in itself, given you were hardly, if ever, late for class. Not with the emphasis you had on your studies or grades or whatever it was he didn’t.

He had been against this from the start, would be what he reminded the rest when this little experiment goes horribly wrong. Leaving you even one lunch free to do as you please without their supervision; it was supposed to be a simple test if you could obey their explicit instructions to you. Stay away from South Terano.

You knew how your Toman friends felt - you knew how Baji felt - about you talking to people outside of them, let alone your engrossment with someone as dangerous and unhinged as South. They were right: you couldn’t be trusted with your own safety. Mikey and Kazutora had been pissed to hell and back that day, and it wasn’t as if Baji could disagree with their conclusion of killing the delinquent and be done with it despite Draken, Mitsuya and Pah’s vehement opposition. He didn’t want to lose you or a slightest bit of your affection. They should be the only ones in your life, with all that you mean to them and they to you, keeping you safe and protected.

Letting out a second sigh, the black-haired boy’s sharp ears didn’t fail to miss what seemed like interesting mumbles drifting out from the crowd, dangerously narrowed eyes quickly zeroing in on one unlucky boy - he recognised this one. A classmate of yours that Baji vaguely remembered kicking the shit out for once passing a tad too close to your desk for comfort. “Hey.” A quick grab and yank, and the unfortunate soul was face-to-face with a ticked-off and visibly irate Toman’s First Division Captain. “Care to repeat what you were saying?” It wasn’t a question.

But in a surprising twist, your classmate didn’t instantly break down into a mess like so many had before, far from it, instead looking Baji up and down with a critical eye. Seemingly having come to a decision, as if making up his mind that dealing with Toman no matter how painful was somehow the lesser of two evils. And out spilled the repeated rumor: you had been seen walking off campus hand in hand with an impossibly tall guy with tattoos that ran down his face, and you hadn’t been seen since.

South. You failed.

And then his phone went off. Mitsuya’s spotted you, and it wasn’t within the school compound.

Letting out a strong curse that had the whistleblower jumping slightly, Baji raced down the empty school corridor.

‎

“SOUTH!”

It was supposed to be a pleasant afternoon; they could vaguely remember the weatherman's earlier forecast of cloudy skies and cool temperatures from a few days' earlier that you had been extremely excited for. Even the dawn that the new day had brought, which they knew you had watched fondly from your small kitchen window like you always did, nursing a hot cup of tea, had been nothing but promising; the pastel pink sky that emerged out of the dark night together with the streaks of morning sun bursting over the horizon never failed to make their day. Yet here they were.

At the roar of the familiar voice, you stopped in your tracks just a block away from the gates to your school, turning around to look with pinched eyebrows. “Mikey?”

And down the road they came, your six Toman friends screeching to a halt just mere meters away from where you were, your hand still delicately gripped within a treacherous larger hand. “Get away from him,” the Toman President ordered, those haunting abyss eyes fixed on South’s yellow ones, white-knuckled fists clenched tightly by his sides, his face black with rage as Draken stepped forward, as if to gesture for you to return to them despite no further movements from him. An insult, a spit to their faces was what this was - the absolute gull of this scum to make his way into the heart of Toman’s territory to try and steal you away from them. And you playing along like it meant nothing; this sheer audacity couldn’t go unpunished. The world fell silent, still, waiting with bated breath.

You glanced hesitantly between your friends, the confusion and uncertainty clear in those doe eyes. What was going, it was clear you weren’t sure - certainly you knew your friends had always been protective of you, but this? This was a bit extreme, was it not? Yet before you could reply, you were instantly pushed behind a much larger figure, South stepping in front of you to grin down at the group in front of him. “Looking for me?”

“Minami’s just trying to-”

“This is kidnapping,” Baji gritted out through his teeth, and you flinched when those sharpened bronze eyes flickered over to you, though that didn’t stop the thoughts from racing through your head. Kidnapping? “You’re taking her against her will.”

You tried once more to explain. “No Baji, he’s trying to-”

“She’s coming with me freely,” South interrupted, the smirk on his face only seeming to grow as curses were instantly spat out at him. He knew what you meant to them, of course he did, having to watch day in and day out from a distance as you lavished your love on ‘your boys’, as you affectionately termed them. No more - your attention was now his.

But there was no doubt this Tokyo Manji Gang would let you go without a fight.

‎

Turning to look at you straight for the first time, Mikey narrowed his eyes, and you gulped. “Come. Here.” You really were in deep trouble this time.

“Okay Mikey,” you whispered, releasing your hand from South’s, taking a step towards the awaiting arms of Draken. You had hoped they wouldn’t be too angry if you kept just the one friend, but unfortunately that didn’t seem to be the case. But unlike the gentle hold that the giant of a delinquent had gripped your hand just seconds ago, you instead found one that refused to release you, South only tightening his grip more and more as you tried in vain to pull away. You whirled around to look back at him. “Minami, let go!”

“Tell them you’re coming with me.” You were going to be his. South never wanted to hurt you in any way, his little anjinho - the last thing he wanted was for you to be scared of him. But if it took intimidating you a little for you to never leave his side, then it was the way things would be. “Tell them.”

“I have to - ow!” His clutch only grew stronger, and you cried out. “Minami, you’re hurting me!”

In that heartbeat, the tension snapped, a blur of black flying to smash straight into one thick tattooed arm lifted straight in time, a flash of blond your only warning to duck as another smudge of yellow and black quickly followed with a punch aimed straight for South’s head.

Releasing you to protect himself, you were instantly yanked out of the way by two pairs of arms, sending you crashing backwards into a strong chest, your unhurt hand instinctively lifting to cradle your quickly bruising wrist, yellow and green marks in the shape of a hand imprinted into your soft skin. “Does it hurt?” Pah mumbled, one careful finger brushing against the area only to hastily retreat when you winced in response. “You need to go to the doctor.”

But your attention was somewhere else, your gaze fixed on your three friends brawling unrestrained. Baji was fast, arm snapping out to hold you back as you attempted a break from Draken. “No, stop it! Don’t fight!”

“You need a doctor,” the black-haired boy tried to convince you, but you were lost to the fight, the sight of Kazutora and Mikey and South out with the intention to kill too much for you to bear.

“Stop!” You cried out. It was all your fault, this mess you dragged everyone into. “Stop it!”

But all that the two Toman founders could hear was the pounding of unbridled jealousy and anger. This lesser animal, this unforgotten bastard trash; he had the audacity to lay a finger on you. Death. All would be resolved in blood. This was a death sentence.

‎

A moment of distraction, and you slipped from Draken. 

The punches and kicks were coming, too fast, too strong to pull back at such a short notice as you came skidding between Mikey and South. Both fists slammed straight into you at full strength, wide eyes meeting yours for a single breath.

The world breathed. A loud bang, the sound of flesh hitting flesh as you disappeared from their view, and all they could hear was a painful wheeze followed by a thud. Your unmoving body kneeling over from where you had slammed against the crusted wall of an apartment block, falling face down onto the concrete. 

And then chaos, the wail of your name raising the hair on the back of their necks as Kazutora rushed over to you, followed by a stampede of the other Toman’s founders hurtling over to you. What had they done? No, it couldn’t be them - they would never hurt you. What had South done? 

‎

“You- you hit her,” Mikey swallowed, the rage behind those empty eyes that diminished for a moment instantly reigniting, burning stronger than ever. “You hit her.”

“It was you,” South retorted, a similar anger that lit his own pair meeting Mikey’s. “I would never.” But his words fell on deaf ears, and the temperature seemed to drop. A blink, and the behemoth of a delinquent had just barely enough time to catch the roundhouse kick blasted at his neck, though the impact was enough to push him back. 

“I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you.” A threat - no, a promise - whispered, the Tokyo Manji Gang’s president’s shadow seeming to grow with every repeat. 

“She’s still breathing,” Mitsuya let out a shaky breath, those few words somehow breaking through the cacophony of cries as Kazutora had to be wrestled away from shaking you any further, Baji already on the phone with what seemed like emergency services.

Draken turned his gaze to Mikey. "Snap out of it, Mikey! She's unconscious!" This wasn’t the time for a fight, especially not with the piercing screech of police sirens in the near distance. You needed all of them if you were going to pull through.

“Get her to the hospital,” came the order, the other not once turning his back on the visibly enraged South to spare you a glance as both lowered into fighting stances. “I’m finishing this.”

[colibrie]

So I

I read the Rise x Star Wars crossover

AAAASJDHSHWWHDJSHHSDJCYYAHQNEDIXUSHSNSUXYXUAMABEVEYAYSUXXJSJSNSJAKAOAKSJSHGCYDHANSBDV

Everything hurts 👍

I LOVE the way you write. The descriptions of everything from Leo's numbness, to Donnie's memories of the temple, to Mikey's real life healthy way of processing emotions, to Leo's face man persona, to Donnie's box, to Raph being Raph and taking the blame, to Krang's perspective... ALL SO GOOD. I love the connection between the twins through the force. Absolutely immaculate.

I can't WAIT to see where this goes. Inquisitors vs Jedi is inherently angsty because of the bond once shared, but you've somehow managed to make it even more painful. Incredible!

@trilobitepunch 's art also adds so much. The style matches up with the writing perfectly, and the angles are so awesome. I especially love the use of shadows from Don and Raph's helmets. And the way Krang is drawn??? Terrifying. Absolutely accurate to Star Wars style.

I'm excited to see where this will go! The brothers working their way back together as Krang breaks Raph and Donnie down further and further... I of course hope that there will be a happy ending but I now from my own writing experience that the paths to happy endings are paved with miles of angst.

I just have some questions! Are you planning for April to make an appearance? When did Donnie build 5HE-DN and does Krang know?

Anyway, thanks so much for writing this wonderful story! I eagerly await further updates, but be sure to take your time and take care of yourself! Sorry it took so long for me to get around to it

*Takes deep, professional breath*

TXJXKTKTXXKTTKXXKTXKYGKXDDTKSKTXGKXKGXKGMGXKTURSTXKKTXSURFKYSTJXYKXKTSJTKTDTDKDKTOMIGOSHOMIGOSHOMIGOSHTHAANKYOUUUUUUUUUUUU!

This made my night! Especially because I just got done devouring your writing (which has me utterly emotionally wrecked. Sincere thanks for that btw!)

I am happy you've found so much to enjoy. As my first foray into the Rise fandom, it's been tricky at times trying to blend all the parts together into a cohesive unit. But I love writing description, and in tinkering with descriptions I feel like I've slowly gotten a better grasp on who these boys are. Shockly, (likely to absolutely no one) Leo and Mikey are the easiest for me to write. Donnie is the most difficult, but lucky for me I have my own brilliant genius!

Trilo is INCREDIBLE to work with. There have been times where I have been struggling to put a scene into words, and she returns with a page or a picture or a paragraph that just instantly helps things to click. I swear, it's magic! Her command of shadows, expressions, and body language are astounding, and there have been several scenes that tripled in length because her art inspired me so much.

We've built out much of how this story will unfold, and as a fellow angst lover (and self proclaimed angst fairy), I can confirm that there is a light at the end, but the path to reach it will push all four of them to the limit.

To answer your questions:

We debated whether or not to include April. We both love her character, but we ultimately decided that we wanted to keep the cast small so we could keep the focus on the boys.

5HL-DN is the fifth in a series of droids designed by Donnie. The first one was built when he was a still a child. He is by far the most sophisticated, and the one with the most developed personality. As for the circumstances around how 5HL-DN came to be.... spoilers. I promise you'll find out.

Yes, Krang knows about 5HL-DN, but he doesn't see him as particularly important. To Krang, droids are tools. Weak and easily expendable. He's aware that Donnie built 5HL-DN and he considers Donnie's investment in 5HL-DN to be a foolish weakness, but Raph is a much better and more effective tool to hurt Donnie with so Krang mostly ignores 5HL-DN. Plus, he has his utility in keeping Krangs favorite toy in the game....

This story is a joy to write, and I'm so glad my words can do justice for @trilobitepunch 's amazing art work. This au is a labor of love on both our parts and seeing it come together to get this kind of reaction is one of the greatest feelings. We are working on the next installments as we speak, so I hope you'll enjoy those as well! In the mean time, if you or anyone else has any other questions, feel free to ask!

[marilynthornhilllover]

Larissa weems x fem!reader

Name: " when the pain cuts you deep"

Warning: indecent language, depression, insecurities, self hatred,panic attacks, childhood trauma, low self esteem, FLUFF.

Request: hey darling! Can I request a sad reader x larissa please! Also can it be based off the song remedy from adele, including some stuff like depression, insecurities, self hatred,childhood trauma, anxiety, panic attacks, low self esteem etc rissa comes home to r crying in the bathroom saying shes not good enough and no one cares about her. BUTS LOTS OF FLUFF FROM RISSA!! I kbow that you would use your imagination and make this into art BTW i love your fanfics keeping working magic and have a good day!!

A/n: thank you darling!! And I hope your doing well just know that your gonna be ok :)

○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○

Growing up you had a pretty fucked up childhood. While other kids were busy being happy and playing with toys you were busy being miserable and suffering. Depression is something everyone can relate to. Either it be serious or not.

We all faced a time when we once questioned our existence on earth. You've been a broken child growing up. And because of that it destroyed many of your relationships. Because people didn't know how to cope and relate to you mentally.

But when you met larissa that all changed. You first met her at a conference meeting. That's when she helped you with through your first panic attack in public. After that the both of you got really close.

Larissa was always gentle with you. Never pressured you. Never belittle you, underestimated you, made you feel scared, lonely, hurt, nothing that people would normally make you feel.

You always thought that you weren't capable of loving. But the day larissa proposed to you would forever be a eternal memory to you. It's been 5 years now, and you haven't regret a thing.

♧

Larissa knew when you didn't come to hug her at the door when she came home something was wrong. Big time. Fear rushed over her as panic filled her body, as she called your name once and didn't get a response. " darling? Where are you, I'm home" she said running up the stairs to the second floor.

She heard you. Your quiet sobs of pain. Her heart immediately shattered. She hated seeing you hurt so much. Especially when she knows sometimes she can't help. You just have to get over it yourself in your own time. In your own space. Which she highly respected.

She gently knocked on the door causing you to jump from inside. You were so lost in yourself you didn't even hear her come home. " baby you ok?" She asked voice dripping with care and love but hasten with worry. You sniffed as you pulled in a cold long breath.

" Yes but I'll be out soon" you said barely getting it out before you broke down into tears again. As much as you wanted to be alone in your shit you wanted to be in her embrace. With her soothing words of affection. Her soft touch, her kisses. Oh you wanted it all.

You always hated physical touch but larissa was different. Far different. Her touch was magical. And you hated pushing her away when she so desperately wanted to help you.

" my love you can't hide forever, dont do this to yourself please" she whispered the last word coming painfully. She sat on the ground on the other end of the door. You pulled your knees closer to your chest and placed your head on them. You couldn't face yourself and now you couldn't face her. You've been here a million times before.

And she was always there every step of the way. So why are you shutting her out now? Why the distancing. It was the self doubt again. The little demon in your head telling you no one loves or care about you. That's what it was, larissa thought to her self.

" What's troubling my dove?" She asked voice soft as ever. She really was meant for you. You couldn't help the sobs. When she asked you the question your heart suddenly gaved out. You suddenly had the urge to tell your lover everything.

You slowly opened the door. Larissa immediately stood to her feet taking a good look at you. Puffy eyes, messed up mascara, messy hair. Her heart ached at the sight of you. It seriously broke her heart to see you in such state.

" I don't feel like I'm good enough for anything or anyone rissa, not even for you. I hate myself, I'm always messing things up. I dont wanna hurt anyone. I wanna let go riss" you said voice breaking. Soon the tears came flooding your eyes and cheeks again.

"Oh honey" she cooed as she pulled you into her arms. "Let it out" she whispered, placing your face into her neck. You cried harder. Her grip around tighten as she was trying to get you as close to her as possible. She allowed you to cry and cry til you couldn't anymore.

You became numb to the pain.

♧

After larissa gaved you a bath she placed you in bed. She got dressed into something more comfortable and took her place beside you on the bed. For a while there was completely silence. You stared into the room avoiding eye contact with her.

You could feel her staring at you. "Baby" she whispered cupping your face in her hands. You melted into her touch, whimpering at the sensation.

" look up" she whispered and you did just so, as soon as your eyes met her gaze she kissed you softly. You didn't have the energy to kiss back so you just let her do all the love and affection. Her soft lips against yours was always a feeling you would never get tired of.

You moaned into her mouth as she deepened the kiss. This is what you loved most about larissa. She could take all your pain away in a instant. Make you feel safe. Important.

" why didn't you tell me the feelings were coming back?" She asked proceeding to leave kisses all over your face. You pulled away from her eyes meeting her gaze. " I didn't want to burden you with unnecessary things" you whispered looking away from her.

She immediately brought your gaze back to hers. " y/n you are not a burden and your feelings and mental health is not unnecessary, my love" she said smiling softly. Her eyes were filled with hope and love.

" I love you beyond stars, do you know what I'd do for you?" You sniffed and barley was able to look at her because your eyes were hurting so bad. " I'd jump off a cliff for you. Get hit by a train for you. Die for you" she said, kissing your cheek.

Suddenly your chest started to feel tight. Your breathing became more erratic. It was a panic attack. Larissa noticed immediately. She pulled you closer to her and placed your head on her shoulder. " remember what we participated darling" she whispered, she slowly inhaled and you followed.

Then she slowly exhaled. You followed her breathing steps for a good while before you were ok again. You pulled away from larissa and looked up at her.

" thank you for being so patient with me, rissa" you whispered looking down at the sheets and slightly pulling them. Larissa used her hand to rise up your chin. She took both your hands in hers. She kissed you on your forehead softly. " I meant what I said in our wedding vows" she whispered.

" that'd you be by my side forever?" You asked low laying your head into her lap.

She slowly Bagan to run her fingers through your messy hair. Fingernails brushing your scalp lightly. Soon you started to fall asleep. Larissa fixed you probably so that you were comfortable, by placing your head on a pillow and your blanket over you.

You were completely asleep now. Larissa looked at your sleeping body and smiled. She loved you beyond stars. She smiled at your before kissing your forehead.

" that I'll be your remedy" she whispered softly. That was her vows to you. To understand you. Help you. Stay be yourside and most importantly to be your cured for your sadness and broken heart.

☆

The next morning you woke up with kisses being placed all over your face. during your sleepy state you heard. " love yourself today, you deserve it" it was below the average tone of how a person spoke but above a whisper. There was a soft kiss to your cheek before she left for work.

[donnedulac]

Tagged by @coughdrop80. You are the hottest girl I know! Thank you!! Mwah! 💋 (absolutely loved your answers btw, you had such creative flair and originality)

1. Are you named after someone? Yes, my great-grandmother, whom some family members believe I’m the reincarnation of (most normal Brazilian family dynamic).

2. When was the last time you cried? Tough! I tend to keep strong emotions out of mind, for better or worse. My pms strikes hard tho, so I’ll try and say it without embarrassment: I was listening to the Brazilian version of the prince of Egypt soundtrack, and was suddenly overcome by the emotion present in that story. While I’m often moved I’m not often moved to tears, so it was a striking moment.

3. Do you have kids? No, but I want to. Preferably multiple.

4. What sports do you play/have played? I go to the gym a lot, but I was always awful with group sports, so none really

5. What’s the first thing you notice abt someone? Hmmm interesting question. I suppose face, especially facial expressions? I think you’re appearance is much more abt how you animate it than your body in and of itself

6. Eye colour? Blue! 💙

7. Any talents? I would love to discover the balance between vanity and humble honesty, but I’m not there yet. Regardless, I’d say I’m of above average intelligence, and that I write reasonably well. I also have a real knack for languages

8. Scary movies or happy endings? Both have their place. I like being made to feel, whatever the feeling may be

9. Where were you born? Recife in Pernambuco (the coolest Brazilian state flag if I do say so myself)

10. Hobbies? Reading, bideo games (the least noble form of sodomy, a wise man once said), listening to music intensely and attentively. There are also things I enjoy doing, such as going to the gym, that I’m not sure qualify as hobbies since they’re partly and obligation. My favourite thing by far is walking in nature, alongside rivers, inside caves… also exploring cities and museums. I also watch the occasional movie and read the occasional manga. I also indulge in yaoi, frequently.

11. Pets? A cat, who, quite sadly, lives with my parents, not with me. The dogs are theirs, not mine

12. Height? The correct one, 5’2”

13. Favourite school subject? I’ve been away from school long enough that it’s all blurred together into one highschool themed cloud of misery

14. Dream job? I don’t dream of labour as much as I dream of having a house and being married with children. I do entertain the thought of being a university professor or writer on occasion though

Im tagging @the--s--laughterhouse. If anyone else who follows me likes to do these games pls just go right ahead and I’ll tag you whenever I come across the next one 🥰

[why-what-no]

Hi! Hope you're well. Could you maybe write a Eddie Munson x fem!reader where she's El's sister (like Kali) and she used to date billy and after he died she wasn't able to move on but she starts liking Eddie but can't seem to let go of billy so they have a conversation and they're just like "this would've happened in another life" and it's really angsty and stuff. Thank you!! ( Btw if you don't feel up to it)

Side note: If you end up doing this could the reader have pyrokiniseis (idk of I wrote that correctly English isnt my mother language)

In Another Life

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warning: Angst

Notes: Hi, I am doing well, thanks! Here’s your requested story, and don’t worry about your English. It’s my first language and I still had to google how to spell pyrokinesis.

(Y/N) sat on the bleachers facing the Hawkin's High track field, hugging her knees. Being alone with her thoughts was never ideal, but it felt safer for her. She wouldn't do something stupid.

As a distraction, she entertained herself with making shapes out of her fire. She and Kali used to play like that in the lab, (Y/N) would make shapes and Kali would guess what it was. Currently, it was a ballerina twirling in the air in front of her.

She vanished the fire as she heard footsteps approaching and for a full second was worried that her powers were discovered, She felt like yelling at herself for being go reckless but relaxed slightly when she realized that it was just Eddie.

Then she tensed up against when she remembered that she was avoiding him, and why she was avoiding him.

“Hey." He greeted her, smiling. He had such a sweet smile, it sometimes made her want to cry.

"Hi." She said, trying not to look at him. "What.…. what are you doing here?"

Eddie jumped up on the bleachers, swaying slightly as he stepped over to her. Even him sitting down was done dramatically, like a performance. "Looking for you, of course."

"Of course." She echoed his words, knowing exactly why he wanted to speak to her. The two of them had hung out a few times since the situation with Vena, and she had really enjoyed his company. So when he invited her to get high, she had said yes. Then.. when they were high and laughing, she had asked to kiss him, and he had said yes.

It was stupid of her.

And, she was sure that Eddie was beginning to pick up on that. "You want me to go?" He asked, always so in tune with her every facial expression.

"I just... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...

"What? Shouldn't have kissed me?" He asked. "Or shouldn't have run away?"

"Both." He sighed, and she hated herself for hurting his feelings.

"Listen.." He paused. "I like you. But if you aren't into me, just say it."

He was so kind, (Y/N) thought, and she really wanted to tell him that she liked him back. "I do, it's just.… can't stop thinking about him."

"Hargrove?"

She nodded, thinking back to the previous year when Billy and her were together. He had been everything to her, and she had been in awe of him. She still was. And no matter how much wanted to move, she just couldn't.

"I like you; I do. But... I miss him, so much. And I don't want to be with you when I still love him. You're too good for that."

He nodded, rocking his whole body along with his head. "Thanks, I guess? I guess I'm just sorry that I never really spoke to you until after you met him." He stood up, offering her his hand to help her up. It

was getting dark.

"Yeah, me too.... maybe we would've have happened in another life."