#but I hope it will get better as I add more layers.

[thissliceofnonsense]

Can I be someone else?

I've made another post talking about the concept and main character, ummm... lets call them.. *looks up names that mean empty*

Cassia. This name is a variant of the Latin Cassiah. It means “futile, empty, or vain.” 

Perfect.

Okay, so the next step in my story writing process is to write a bit of prose so I know how to write the character, it may or may not end up in the 'final'. Who knows?

So here's some first draft prose:

I'm not a morning person. I'm not a night person. I'm not an afternoon, evening, or midday person. The sun rises and sets, over and over and over again, each day blurring into the next. My life passes me by and I watch with mounting disgust.

I hate being alone.

Nope. Let's try something else. This is very...meh.

Okay, how about a quick prose bit about Cassia choosing a paint color for their room with their friend, and when the friend leaves to grab something, Cassia realizes they don't have a favorite color, that they don't know who they are without someone else around.

(I want to make the disclaimer that I do not know how socializing works and this is inspired by a tumblr post so yea.)

"What do you think? Beige?" "Who are you and what have you done with Julie." I grabbed fistfuls of vibrant colors. "Something from here, obviously." Julie laughed, light and genuine. She was easy. So much easier to be around than anyone else right now. Julie never wanted to go with more than one person at a time. She never held a grudge or cared how you acted. She was just... there. I could slide into whatever behavior felt best and not have to worry about how actions argued in my head. Julie pointed to a purple that would've made my mother puke. "How about this one?" "My parents will go insane." "Well, you're an adult now, you can make your own choices." "Wow, wow, wow, quite the rebel." Julie laughed again. "No, not really." She held my choices, glancing at each for a few moments. "What's your favorite color?" "Purple." Julie shook her head. "That's my favorite color, silly. What's yours?" "Purple." "Pfft. Okay." We spent a while picking out differing colors. Julie, the only artist of our friend group, talked about how different shades could look different in different applications and how to pair colors. It was nice to listen to her talk. She liked being listened to, to have someone to laugh with, and I could be that person for her. I asked her questions about the colors and her art and if she had any paintings I could hang up. "A Julie masterpiece!" Julie stopped short and looked at her phone. "Ah, sorry. I have to go." I winced. "Oh. Okay. Bye then." She walked a few steps, before turning around. "Thanks, by the way, for not talking about it. I'll let you know when - when the date is, okay?" I nodded. "And pick YOUR favorite color. Okay? Not mine." And she was gone. I sighed, making a mental note to text her pictures of the color I chose and to ask her questions about the best compliments for it. She needed the distraction. I looked at the different colors in my hand. Would Julie be suspicious if I went with the colors she liked? Perhaps she would feel validated that her choices were picked? I put the purple away. She said to pick my favorite color. I stepped away from the choices and looked at them from afar. They blurred together in a swirl of shades and vibrance. My favorite color? When I was five, it was red because my parents thought it meant strength. When I was twelve, it was green because my sibling liked the way sunlight filtered through forest leaves. When I was eighteen, it was purple, because my only friend thought it was the most perfect color in existence. Not that she would be my friend for much longer. She had her suspicions now, it wouldn't be much longer before she said the same things, as they all did. "You don't make decisions for yourself. Stop being a suck up. You just want attention. Be yourself. You're too fake." And they were all right. I didn't have a favorite color. They all felt the same. Static.

Eh. How was that?

Anywho, next up is the backstory moments!

i wonder if magic is real, but only in a really mundane way.

when i was little i could almost inerringly switch back to disney channel right as the ads ended when i was channel surfing.

maybe youve never accidentally crushed a ladybug underfoot. maybe your microwave popcorn never burns. maybe you can spin around lots and lots of times before you get dizzy.

is that magic??

honestly im not sure if these are magic or just small, invisible skills. im not sure which i like better.

[iraprince]

gonna show u guys a little opalescent highlight hack i threw together today

rainbow gradient above your main figure (i usually have all my main figure folders/layers in one big folder, so i can clip gradient maps + adjustments to it!). liquify tool to push the colors around a bit. STAY WITH ME I KNOW IT LOOKS STUPID RN I'M GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS

THEN: set it to add/glow (or the equivalent in ur drawing program), lower the opacity a bit, and apply a layer mask. then u can edit the mask with whatever tools you like to create rainbow highlights!!

in this case i'm mostly using the lasso fill tool to chip out little facets, but i've also done some soft airbrushing to bring in larger rainbow swirls in some areas. it's pretty subtle here, but you can see it better when i remove the gradient map that's above everything, since below i'm working in greyscale:

more granular rambling beneath the cut!

u could also just do this with a brush that has color jitter, but what i like about using layer masks for highlight/shading layers is how simple and reversible it makes everything. i can use whatever brushes i want, and erasing/redoing things is super low stakes, which is great when i often approach this stuff with a super trial-and-error approach.

example: have u ever thrown a gradient w multiple colors over an entire piece, set it to multiply etc, and then tried to erase it away to carve out shadows/highlights? it's super frustrating, bc it looks really good, but if u erase something and then change ur mind later, u basically would have to like. recreate the gradient in the area u want to cover up again. that's how i used to do things before figuring out layer masks!! but masking basically creates a version of this with INFINITE undo bc u can erase/re-place the base layer whenever u want.

anyway, back to rambling about this specific method:

i actually have TWO of these layers on this piece (one with the liquified swirls shown above, and another that's just a normal concentric circle gradient with much broader stripes) so i can vary the highlights easily as needed.

since i've basically hidden the rainbow pattern from myself, the colors in each brushstroke i make will kind of be a surprise, which isn't always great -- but easily fixable! for example, if i carve out a highlight and it turns out the rainbow pattern in that area is way too stripey, i can just switch from editing the mask to editing the main layer and blur that spot a bit.

also, this isn't a full explanation of the overall transparency effect in these screencaps! there's other layer stuff happening below the rainbow highlights, but the short version is i have all this character's body parts in different folders, each with their own lineart and background fill, and then the fill opacity is lowered and there's multiply layers clipped to that -- blah blah it's a whole thing. maybe i'll have a whole rundown on this on patreon later. uhhh i think that's it tho! i hope u get something useful out of this extremely specific thing i did lmao

[erensfeed]

Hello!! Can you please do lnd men where the reader gets dizzy easily for example in car if there's no music or they're not sitting at the window they get dizzy orif there's a strong smell at the vehicle they get dizzy like how would they react to that?

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀｡ WHEN YOU FEEL DIZZY IN THE CAR .ᐟ ｡

featuring: rafayel. zayne. sylus. xavier. caleb x reader.

៹ cw. fluff. mentions of dizziness + lightheadedness.

⌞ an⌝ hiii pookieee!!!! omg i literally apologize for how this took longer but i hope you enjoy these bunch & it’s sweet enough for you! also, make sure you take care during/after times you may feel a bit dizzy ♡︎ future doc orders here👻

wc. 1.4k

rafayel.

has this tender worried look etched onto his face the moment he notices you looking uneasy.

if you admit to him that you were feeling dizzy in the car, he would roll down the windows so you could get some cool fresh air and then ask how you feel after.

"should i take you to the hospital? no? are you sure?"

closing your eyes now, you’d manage to laugh about how it doesn’t feel that serious, just to make him less worried because ironically, he would be the one who’s more stressed.

if he’s driving & can pull over, he will. if not, he’ll drive slower, smoother—making sure you feel safe until he can stop somewhere or even home.

knows how woozy you may be feeling regardless, so he would hold your hand in his to keep you grounded as his way of not wanting you to go through the feeling alone and would keep glancing back at you more than the road.

when you get home, he’d ask if you can walk or if you'd want him to carry you.

settles you to rest on the couch then comes over to add more pillows to keep you comfortable so you can relax for the rest of the day.

makes you drink lots of water too then moves to open the windows at home too.

asks how you’re doing again after the 110th time you told him you’re better because he really wants to make sure.

"it's hard for me to see you unwell you know."

also asks if you need anything and when you tell him you just want to cuddle, he’d be happy to and reassures you that you’ll fully be a-okay after sleeping and waking up.

still talks gently here and there while you’re sound asleep in his arms.

when you wake up he asks again how you feel. “feeling better? good.”

lightly chuckles with you after on how you looked like a dizzy bean emoji but in a cute endearing teasing way of course (even though seeing you dizzy made him a worried parent.)

zayne.

zayne notices before you even say anything. the second your posture shifts or your breathing changes, his attention would be on you.

“dizzy?” he would ask softly and all it would take is for you to confirm it before he would already either have the window up with the ac on or down for fresh air depending on what needed to be done to avoid making you nauseous.

prioritizes you no matter the level of how bad it feels for you.

parks somewhere better, safe and quiet & would have a bottle of water ready in the center console storage.

helps hold it for you with one hand and the other behind your head.

his doctor instincts would kick in without thinking and he’d ask questions and give instructions.

“how bad is it? “do you feel lightheaded or nauseous?”

“okay, close your eyes. now breathe slowly. here—gently press your forehead against the seat. it’ll help.”

when you get home, he would also carry you and would help you take off extra layers of clothes so you feel less suffocated and so it doesn’t happen again.

would make you herbal tea or some sugar tea to drink then gives you medication to help.

“your blood sugar levels might’ve dropped."

if you tease him for being in ‘doctor mode’ he would just simply smile a little and crouch to your level then say something like

“tease me all you want but i’ll always put your health first.”

because doctor or not, you’re his #1 priority.

(affectionately) lectures you about you needing to stay away from doing things that’ll trigger your stress/dizziness while you’re in his arms in bed.

if you tried to talk he shushes you and kisses the top of your head instead so you sleep.

monitors you a lot more (than usual) since then.

you'd hear more "no. and i mean it, doctor’s orders."

you won’t ever have to face dizziness/lightheadedness when you’re with him as much after that. and in the car, in most cases, the window would be already down/up depending on whether you need fresh air or not, to prevent it from happening .

sylus.

notices when you instinctively touch his arm and asks “what’s wrong?”

the moment you tell him how you feel, he doesn’t panic since he also doesn’t want you to too.

slows down the car and helps you recline your seat back a little and adjusts your seatbelt/unbuckles you so you can relax your head.

“lie down, and close your eyes. do you need me to get you water from the nearest store?”

asks if it’s okay to continue driving & if it is, he drives carefully making sure the car ride is smooth as well.

“here, take my hand and keep closing your eyes if it gets bad.”

plays a calming & soothing music right after to help you.

later, whether or not you can walk & are feeling better, he’d carry you bridal style inside and would gently settle you on the bed when you’re home.

reads about what to do to stop/prevent it again and what to make for you to eat.

spoon feeds you soups/meals he made that can help.

“sylus you do know i can feed myself right?”

“i know sweetie, but let me.”

pampers you the whole day.

although he notices when you act even more dizzy for his attention, he chuckles to himself about it but still obliges by taking care of you and doesn’t mention it.

xavier.

super gentle about it. his whole demeanor softens the second you tell him.

places a hand on top of your head to see if you’re running a temperature first.

“are you sick?”

when you tell him it’s from a super strong random smell from outside that's getting you this way, he’d have the windows up and turn on the ac.

“will it help if you lean on me? i don’t mind, i just want you to feel okay.”

once you get home, he doesn't leave your side unless it's to go get you water or medicine he got.

offers to cook you something.

orders it instead because it’s already one thing to worry about than burnt food.

searches online and finds out that meat helps.

“i knew it. see, it's like i told you. meat always helps everything.”

he would say to you, making you both laugh.

makes you some ginger tea before the food arrives.

“i read this will help too. careful, it’s a little hot so take slow sips. here, let me..”

while feeding you, he would ask if you overworked yourself these past few and if you say yes he would do everything else for you from then on.

“if you take a nap now, you’ll feel even better soon”

if you ask if he wants to sleep too he’d say “no, not yet” and that he prefers watching you fall asleep first as he puts a blanket over you.

plays quiet music as well at home to help you & comes back next to you, to watch you slowly fall asleep.

(ends up falling asleep next to you once you're long asleep)

caleb.

catches it when you stop midway your sentence and start blinking and shaking your head.

“hey what's the matter?”

when you let him know, he gently takes your hand in his as he drives carefully to looks for a parking spot.

he has even more reason to protect you by the way.

he’d be worried but keeps a calm face for you as he tells you to relax your head and to lie back on your seat.

cracks the window down just right as well.

“easy, i’ve got you. yeah just close your eyes for a sec and breathe with me, okay? yeah, just like that.”

praises you softly as he comforts you all through.

"good girl."

when you get home, he would do anything that wouldn’t have you stressed or bending down.

if you tried to do something, he’s got it covered instead.

“oh no you don’t.”/“not on my watch.”

while you're resting your eyes, he would ask “do you need anything else?.. like more water? more pillows?.. or maybe… me?”

you’d fully open your eyes to give him this look

(depending on your reaction *mild shock, a smirk or a ??*)

“*softly laughs* geez i meant like a cuddle, princess.”

rubs his thumb over your knuckles absentmindedly during the cuddle, not even realizing he’s doing it and talks with you on how you fit perfectly into him because of times like these too.

even days after you say you’re fine, he still watches you more from the corner of his eye, until you call him out on it.

still does everything and around the house for you even after you feel better and makes sure you eat/drink enough, exercise & sleep better.

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤4 erensfeed. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[enhaheeseung]

MAKE A MOVIE - L. HEESEUNG

PAIRING: Heeseung X fem reader

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, edging, cream pie, missionary position, filming.

WORDCOUNT: 1,1k (Another drabble hoping for more engagement on my blog)

~

“God baby, you look so fucking beautiful. Wish I could stare at you like this forever,” he groans, staring down between your legs where his girth splits you open. The sight of his cock slipping in and out, coated in your creamy wetness, was his favorite view.

You giggle in a seductive manner, your fingertips tracing his hips as he slides in and out of your silky walls. “Take a video, and you can,” you wink at him playfully.

He inhales a sharp breath at your words, his hands gripping your waist harder. “Fuck” his eyes rolled back in his head at your dirty suggestion, and the mischievous smirk on your face was not helping the current twitching of his cock. Just the idea was getting him so close. “Really?” He asked breathlessly, his pace slowing down a bit so he wouldn’t cum just yet.

“Yeah,” you bite your lip seductively. “Wanna watch how good you fuck me” you moan, intentionally clenching around his shaft, watching him fall apart above you.

His lips parted, a whiny moan slipping out from the feeling of you encased so tightly around him. “Baby….” He warns, knowing exactly what you’re doing to him. “At least let me get a minute's worth of video before I cum” he laughs softly, and so do you deciding not to tease him anymore.

He reaches over to the nightstand and quickly grabs his phone, his hips never stopping while he unlocks it. He turns the flash on, pointing it right between your legs, filming up close where his cock repeatedly enters you balls deep. “So wet,” he murmurs low enough for the video not to pick it up.

You let out a soft breath, eyes closing in pleasure as he thrusts into you at a steady pace. Even though you’ve been going for at least twenty minutes, every slide of his cock felt better each time, a new layer of creamy arousal coating his thick base and abdomen.

“You look so perfect,” he whispers, tracing your rib cage with his fingertips.

You arched into him, sliding your body down on every single inch of him till his tip reached your cervix. “Hee,” his name comes out in a quick pant, and he can tell you’re as close as he is.

He quickly pulls out, staving off both your orgasms so he can record more your body squirms at the loss of fullness, your hips rolling and desperately chasing for his cock so you can feel him again. His cock jumps at your eagerness for him, and he places his length against your clit thrusting his hips back and forth, edging the both of you without penetrating.

So much for holding off orgasms cause this felt almost as good as being inside you. “Fuck baby, I’m so close,” he breathes out his palm, gently pressing your lower stomach to add to your pleasure.

“Me too.” Your toes curl, a tingling heat coursing through your body as your high approaches. He grabs the base of his cock, pressing his tip to your clit over and over again, smearing your vulva in his sticky precum. “Want it inside hee.”

“Yeah? Want me to cream in this pussy, baby?” You nod your head frantically, wanting nothing more than for him to cum in you and fill your insides with his white creamy liquid.

“Yes baby cum deep inside me” Your fingers grip his waist tightly, causing him to let out a low hiss. He fastens the pace a bit, the sticky squelching of your conjoined bodies turning both of you on even more.

He aimed his cock head at your entrance slipping back into your pussy with ease cause it was still so slick and creamy he swears you’ve never been wetter. “Gonna stuff you so full, baby.” You both moan in pleasure when he hits your cervix again.

Your eyes roll back from the stretch he always filled you up so good, his thick tip brushing past your gummy walls in all the right spots that made you beg for more. “Hee, need your cum in me, please” The pure want dripping from your voice made it hard not to fuck into you faster and just pleasure you the way you deserve.

“Yeah, gonna give it to you so good.” The wet sounds between your bodies fill up the room, all of it being picked up on the speaker of his phone, and neither of you can wait to play it back and watch it later.

No more words were spoken. Both of you forgetting about the recording while losing yourselves to the euphoria.

His hand slipped down your sweat-sheened waist to your little throbbing clit rubbing it in tight circles making your back arch and your hips instinctively match the rhythm with his as his cock got buried even deeper in your soaking cunt.

The sheets were definitely gonna need a change after this.

“Fuck, I’m cumming” you huffed out, your voice getting lost in your throat as your orgasm hit you harder than it ever has cause the way he edged you.

“Y-yeah baby cream on this dick, it’s all yours, fuck!” he groans, head momentarily tipping backward, his hips moving erratically to chase his release as he did his best to keep the recording as steady as possible.

“Cum with me,” you squeak, your orgasm building and building with every stroke to your walls. Your limbs were shaking in pleasure, and this was the longest orgasm you’ve ever had.

“Yes, baby,” he grits through his teeth, staring you in the eyes, and with one final thrust, he stills in you, his cock throbbing as he fills you up with his semen. “Feels so good. Take all this cum, baby” his balls tense with every rope of pearly cum that stains your insides.

“Oh yes,” you shudder, a chill running up your spine as you feel his warmth overtaking your insides.

When your highs start to fizzle out, he focuses the camera again, giving you a few deep strokes to stuff you full just like he promised. It begins to spill out past his base, your pussy lips getting stained in his cream. “Oh yeah,” he whispers shakily, catching the sight of his twitching cock, stuffing your swollen pussy once brim.

He lets out one long breath as he pulls out, and you moan softly from the feeling of him slipping out, clenching your walls on purpose to push out the remainder of his cum for the video. “Perfect,” he ends the video. The last scene was his huge load dripping from your hole to the crevice of your pretty ass. “Damn baby, that was so good” he tosses his phone aside, laying over your tired body and cuddling you.

“It was.” You run your fingers through his damp hair, and you both chuckle while lying there breathlessly.

“Can’t wait to watch it back,” he mumbles against your chest as you bask in the post-orgasm bliss together, sleep slowly but surely taking over.

~

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[propertyofwicked]

FIX THAT ATTITUDE - LN

warnings: smut !! MDNI !! semi public sex, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), withholding orgasms, overstim, light choking, unprotected sex, implied aftercare

3.4k words (sorry i had a LOT to say) (not proof read)

masterlist

thank u for 1k!! lemme know if u want more fluff/smut content in the comments - my inbox is also open for requests! <3

“you wanna fix that attitude before i fuck it out of you?” lando whispered harshly in her ear, his hands resting on her hips as he stood behind her. to anyone looking at them, the exchange looked nothing more than a romantic moment between the young couple, but y/n knew better.

she had barely seen him for 3 weeks, with him travelling for races, and then training and meetings when he was home, her behaviour was a cry for help.

she’d tried everything. brushing past his crotch when she walked past him, bending over in front of her vanity to apply her lipstick, even hiking her dress up dangerously high when she sat in the passenger seat of his car, dragging her fingers up his veiny arms when his hand came to rest on her thigh. but still, he didn’t react, he simply smiled at her like she was an angel, softly stroking the top of her thigh without even a second glance in her direction.

she didn’t want to be treated like an angel, she didn’t want soft. she wanted to be fucked from every angle, covered in their sweat. she wanted him to use her until she was sore, legs shaking, clawing at his bare skin for anything to ground her in reality.

so, y/n got to work. complimenting oscar on his suit, smiling a little much and for a little too long at any man that approached her, twirling the ends of her hair around her fingers throughout entire conversations, all whilst ignoring lando, only acknowledging him when she wanted another drink.

he wasn’t stupid, he caught on quickly, but he let her continue. she’d get what she wanted, but he wanted her to work for it. he was jealous, sure, but he trusted her to not take it too far, and god did he find it amusing watching her try so hard to provoke a reaction from him.

“you wanna fix that attitude before i fuck it out of you?”

the unwavering grip on her hip, sure to leave bruises - even through the layers of her dress - lando’s glares and tensed jaw. was she scared? no. was this exactly the reaction she was hoping for? well, she hadn’t worn that short black dress that dropped a little too low on her chest for lando to simply open the door for her and hold her hand like a gentleman. she wanted him, and she wanted him bad. she was desperate for any ounce of his attention.

“i’d love to see you try,” she whispered in response, tilting her head back to rest on his shoulder, so her words could only be heard by him, her back arching as she did. he pulled her waist in roughly, rolling his hips into her slightly.

“you think anyone here could have you writhing underneath them like i do? you think they could make you feel so good you forget your own name? i’d love to see them try,” he added, sending shivers down her spine and straight to the base of her stomach. he said no more, instead, he moved to stand beside her, taking her hand in his and guiding them to sit in a nearby booth. oscar sat opposite them, glancing up in concern at the red flush rising on y/n’s face.

“y/n? you good?” he asked.

“she doesn’t feel too good,” lando answered for her, his hand resting on her thigh, “combination of a long day and too much socialising, i think,” he adds, his eyebrows raising at her when he mentioned socialising.

“you know me,” she interjects, taking the chance to speak for herself, “social situations without a drink in my hand don’t mix.”

the men chuckled lightly at her response, before discussing an upcoming meeting that oscar had forgotten about, all the while, lando’s fingers toyed with the base of her dress, pushing the material further and further up her legs. she was thankful that the large table and dim lighting hid the way her hips rolled into his hand as his fingers came to stroke over the lace of her underwear. he pulled his hand away quickly, moving to grab his drink as she whimpered quietly at the loss of contact.

“you ok, angel?” lando asked her, feigning innocence, as he held the back of his hand up to her forehead, “y/n, you’re burning up,” he added, biting back a smirk.

“there’s an outside area, through that door there,” oscar told them, pointing to his left, “get some fresh air, it might help.”

“thanks, mate,” lando said, pulling the girl up to stand, her hands tugging her dress back down as he did, “ill see you later, yeah?”

the boys nodded a quick bye at each other as the couple walked in the direction of the door, the fresh air engulfing the two of them as the door closed behind them.

“you need to learn to behave yourself,” lando started, glancing around at the empty patio before pushing her roughly against a nearby wall, “whimpering like that when i barely touched you.”

“im sorry,” she replied, kissing his jaw lightly.

“you’re sorry? no, you wanted this. acting up all night like a desperate little whore,” he spat, before pressing a harsh kiss to her lips, his tongue moving into her mouth as their teeth clashed slightly from the force. the kiss was messy and heated, one hand resting on her jaw, the other on her waist as his rolled his hips into hers. she moaned into his mouth, tugging lightly at his curls as he pulled her leg up, his hardening bulge grazing her lace panties, exposed as her dressed rolled further up her thighs.

“not here,” he groaned in her ear, pulling back and letting her leg drop for her to stand.

“you didn’t care before,” she retorted, her hands grabbing at his jaw to kiss him again, “playing with me in front of oscar like that.”

“not risking someone walking out and seeing what’s mine,” he said again, grabbing her hand before walking around to the valet. y/n trailed behind him, taking large steps in a bid to keep up with his pace with only his arm to leverage the distance he put between them.

the car ride was tense, the silence heavy as she waited for lando to do something, anything. instead, both hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. the anticipation had her clit pulsing, blood running hard and fast through her body as she sought for any friction to relieve her. y/n wriggled in her seat, repositioning herself over and over again with no such luck.

“is my pretty girl so desperate she can’t even sit still?” lando taunted, glancing to his side to watch as she sat fully upright, shoes abandoned in the footwell. she brought one leg up on the seat, her head resting on her knee as her free hand moved over the grab his from the steering wheel.

“please, lan,” she begged, guiding his hand to rest on her thigh.

“we’re almost there,” he countered, yet his hand still gripped at the flesh of her thigh, releasing only to stroke his fingers along the skin, closer to her heat.

“just do something, please lan. i’ll do anything you want, just need you now please,” she said, pleading with him again. his fingers grazed her panties finally, pulling the fabric to the side as his fingers slid through her folds softly, coating his fingertips in the wetness she’d built up throughout the evening.

“so desperate, so wet for me,” he said, rubbing small circles into her clit as he patronised her, “couldn’t just behave for one night could you? just had to try and rile me up to get your way, huh?”

“just missed you is all,” she panted out, head rolling back as he pinched at her clit, she was getting close, “wanted you all night, just you.”

“too late for you to act cute, y/n,” he warned, “you wanted this. you’ll get what you want, you just need to be taught a lesson.”

he pulled his hand away, resting it on the back of her head rest as he turned to reverse into the parking spot. she whimpered at the loss of contact, having her climax snatched away from her, her sounds sending blood rushing back to his cock.

this was a game they played, he was never truly mad at her, he knew her bids to make him jealous were just that - bids. he’d do anything to see her smile, anything to be close to her, anything to show his gratitude for every little thing she does for him. if she wanted it rough, she’d get it rough. if she wanted gentle, he’d be gentle.

and right now, she wanted him between her legs.

lando pushed her down on their bed, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her heat closer to him. he pulls at the sides of her panties, toying with the fabric before slowly pulling them down her legs when she moans at him to hurry up. she’s resting on her forearms, staring down at him as he rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up, her hair falling down her back as she rolls her hips up, desperate for him.

“patience, angel. taking my time with you,” he says, breaking the silence. he wraps an arm around her leg, pulling it over his shoulder as he rests his forearm over her stomach, stopping her wriggling. his finger returns to her folds, still slick from earlier, as he pushes a digit inside her, feeling the stretch around him. he pumps into her a few times, before adding a second finger, twisting them into her, feeling the way her walls contracted around them.

“more, please,” she moaned out. he simply chuckled at her.

he ignored her, fingers never faltering as he curled them up in her, hitting a spot that had her struggling to arch her back as he pinned her down into the mattress. he moved his head closer to her heat, dropping it to the side to rest on her leg, lightly kissing at her inner thigh and nipping at the skin. his eyes flittering from looking into hers before moving back to watch as his fingers disappeared inside her. she tightened around him, her breathing heavier as she got closer to finishing.

lando retracted his fingers, pushing her leg from his shoulder as he stood to look down at her.

“what the fuck?” she stated as her orgasm slipped away from her for the second time this evening.

“i told you. good girls get to cum. whores get taught a lesson,” he replied, hovering over her as he pushed the same two fingers into her mouth. she whined at him, muffled as her tongue ran along them, tasting herself.

he moved back, eyes dropping to her chest as he pulled her dress down. he stopped at her breasts, thankful for the lack of bra, as the tight material pushed the flesh upwards, her nipples hardening as he leant down to blow softly on them. one hand propped himself up, the other moved to grasp at the flesh, squeezing it roughly. his head dropped, taking her other nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around them, teeth nipping at the surrounding skin. he dropped his grip on her other breast, fingers moving to tug at her, her back arching, chest rising into his touch.

“love these,” lando groaned, pulling away to look down at her again. her hair fanned around her head, chest rising and falling with hesitant breaths. he dropped to his knees again, face to face with her heat. with no warning, his face dove into her folds, licking a stripe from her hole, nose nudging at her clit.

“taste so good,” he mumbled, though he doubted she heard him, as he moved back to circle his tongue around her clit. his hands pawed at her thigh again, gripping the flesh as she pulled her legs up, wrapping them over his shoulders. lando’s free hand reached up, gripping her breast again, fingers flicking at her nipple. he could hear her moaning out his name, almost like a chant, his trousers growing unbearably tight.

“lan- fuck, so good.”

he groaned in response, sending vibrations through her heat. her legs tightened around his head, desperate for more, trying to hold on to her orgasm.

“im gonn-”

“hold it.” he said, slapping at her thigh lightly.

“i can-” she started, words halted as her climax washed over her. she tried to hold it, but the overstimulation from the previous assaults took over, pushing her to her finish, legs tightening further around his head as her hips rolled up. his nose brushing her clit again as she rode out her high, using his face.

when she caught her breath, her legs relaxed. lando crawled up her body, his crotch pressing against her heat as he did. he held back a moan.

“i told you to hold it,” he said, hand coming to squeeze lightly at the base of her throat.

“i know, im sorry, i tried, im sorry,” she rambled, panting in between each statement.

“i know you tried,” he cooed at her, mocking, as her hands came to undo the buttons of his shirt, pushing the material away from him. his sat back on his knees, taking the shirt off and launching it across the room as she sat back up, resting on her forearms.

she glanced down at his crotch, noticing the way his bulge strained against his suit trousers, the pressure enough that the zip was starting to roll down by itself. y/n’s hand reached out, palming him through the material before fiddling to unzip them fully, tugging the button out from the loop.

“let me make it up to you,” she begged, eyes blown wide as she stared up into his. he nearly folded at the sight, a groan getting caught in the back of his throat. he didn’t respond, he simply leaned forward, laying her back down on the bed as he pressed a heated kiss to her lips, his tongue grazing her bottom lip before pulling back to press kisses along her jaw, his hand returning to squeeze the base of her neck, harder this time.

“not tonight,” he groaned in her ear, rolling his hips over hers slightly.

lando tried to keep up the poker face but she pouted at him, turning her face, as her eyes questioned him. his head dropped to her neck again, sucking lightly at the skin.

“if i even think about you with my cock rammed down your throat, ill cum - and i’d quite like to feel that tight pussy around my dick,” he laughed softly, as did she, her smile sending warmth spreading through his stomach.

her legs raised around his back rolling the two over so that she straddled his waist, his hips jutting upwards at the weight of her sat on his clothed cock. he wriggled the two of them up the bed, so that he sat upright against the headboard, his trousers shuffling down in the processes, his boxers soon after.

his cock sprang up, hitting his stomach. y/n isn’t sure he’s ever been this hard. hell, lando isn’t sure he’s ever been this hard.

her hand moved to him, thumb running over his tip spreading pre cum down his shaft, his sensitivity causing him to momentarily forget who was supposed to be in charge. lando’s hands moved to grab hers, pulling them up to rest on his shoulders, before dropping them back to her waist to raise her hips up above his cock.

“you cum when i say you can,” he stated, eyes staring directly into hers, her eyelids fluttering from exhaustion. she nodded at him. his free hand lined his tip at her entrance, running it through her folds a few times to use her slick to prepare himself. she began lowering her hips, assuming she was taking the lead. however, when she had taken only half of his shaft, his hands gripped her hips, pushing her roughly down, filling her completely.

“fuck,” she whined, as he continued to pull at her hips, the two of them working together to maintain the pace he set as she slid up and back down his cock. his moans filled the room, his head rolling back slightly at the feeling of her tight walls clamping around him every time he bottomed out. one of her hands gripped the headboard, the other playing with the curls at the back of his head as he leant back forwards to take her nipple in his mouth, a free hand helping to grip at her flesh.

“lan, fuck. too big,” y/n whimpered again, as his hips moved to thrust up into her, taking back control of the situation.

“too big?” he laughed, “never complained before,” he added before pressing a kiss on her jaw.

his hand moved back up to her neck, finger stroking the small bruises forming on her skin.

“you think anyone else could fuck you like this?” he asked, his grip around her neck tightening, her eyes shutting at the overwhelming pleasure racking her whole body.

“eyes open,” he told her, and she pried her eyes open to stare into his. her pupils were blown, and he imagined his looked the same, noises escaped her open mouth, no longer able to form words.

“good girl, taking me so well,” he praised her, noticing the way her body began to slump, her walls tightening around his cock as he continued his brutal thrusts into her, “who else could make you feel this good?” he asked her, but she simply whimpered in response, words caught in the back of her throat.

his hand left her neck, slapping softly as her cheek as her eyes closed again.

“who else?” he asked again, tone harsh.

“no one,” she stuttered, “only you.”

“good girl. you gonna come for me?”

she nodded desperately, no longer sure if she was asking him or telling him.

“can you hold it for a little longer?” he asked, eyes looking softly into hers despite the intensity of the pace he set, “wanna come with you.”

“please, lan. i need t-”

“i know,” he leveraged with her, “im almost there baby,” he added, fingers dropping to toy with her overstimulated clit, her body arching forwards so that her head rested on his shoulder, arms tightly wrapping around his back.

she felt his thrusts falter, his pace slowing as his jutted up into her inconsistently.

“that’s it, baby. come with me, come for me.”

she felt herself let go, waves of climax washing over her again as her entire body shook around him. the walls of her heat, tightening and relaxing as she finished, the feeling pulling lando to his own finishes, each contraction milking his cock as ropes of cum shot into her.

the couple fell silent, lando remained inside of her as she curled into him further, both panting, trying to catch their breaths.

“fuck me that was -” she started, unable to find the words to finish her sentence. she didn’t need to though, he knew what she wanted to say as he hummed in agreement. he rolled the two over, pulling slowly out of her as her face scrunched up from the sting. he looked between the two of them, looking at the mixture of both climaxes coating his own shaft and the top of her thighs, leaking onto her dress slightly.

“you wanna shower?” he asked her, resuming domestic conversation between the two.

“i don’t think i can walk,” she said, smiling, as she rolled onto her back and throwing her arms to either side of her body. she was a sight to behold, fucked out, hair messy and the dress they never took off sat scrunched up around her stomach leaving her mostly exposed. he laughed at the sight, not in jest, but admiration for the woman before him.

“come on,” lando said softly, moving round to her side of the bed, “let’s get you cleaned up and into some clean clothes.”

[ddejavvu]

Hi, i hope youre doing well ☺️

Could i request another part to animagus cat reader where reader cuddles with Remus during winter instead of Sirius because its cold and he runs warmer?? Like he'll be in the common room reading in an arm chair while reader catnaps on his lap while being pet and Sirius tells him to stop stealing his gf and James is jealous/whiny that he doesnt get to have cat snuggles.

part 1 / part 2

--

Despite the two blankets layered in an inviting nest on Sirius's lap, Remus is the warmest person in the room. The fire crackes on its logs, offering scorching heat, but what you seek is gentle warmth, and you've found it between Remus's sweater and his undershirt. You're splayed over his chest much like a baby would be, your paws stretched out against his shoulders and your head pressed face-first into his chest. His sweater is tight enough that it holds you in place, and you don't have to worry about falling. It means that you're able to fully relax, and Sirius can hear your rampant purring from where he sits on the couch with a sour scowl on his face.

"If you just wore warmer clothes, you wouldn't be pissy right now," Remus muses, not bothering to grace the man with a glance away from his novel, "She only likes me 'cause my sweater is warm."

That's not entirely true. While Remus does tend to dress for comfort, and Sirius for style, Remus runs naturally hotter than your boyfriend. You don't have the heart to tell him that, though, so you mewl in agreement to Remus's statement.

"Sweaters are dumb," Sirius spits, and no one bothers to mention that he has a small collection of them for the snowy days on the grounds, "I look better in leather."

"Your loss," Remus shrugs, and to add insult to injury, reaches up to scratch a spot behind your ears that only makes your purring louder.

"This is bullshit," Sirius finally huffs, breaking his facade of gloomy indifference, "Prongs, get over here."

James, all too eager to help out his friend and soak up affection to boot, has no problem tipping over sideways to lay in Sirius's lap.

But the man lifts James's head out of his lap by his curls, "No, no, no, not James. Prongs."

"You want me to-?" James asks, but doesn't dare finish, because the prospect of transforming right in the common room sends a shiver of mischief down his spine that he'd be a fool to question, "On it."

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah," Sirius nods, sneering haughtily at Remus, "You're not the only one that's good for a cuddle, Moony. Look at this," He gushes, as James begins his transformation, skin giving way to tight, short fur and enormous antlers that nearly grate against the stone walls around you.

"Oh, he's a perfect fit." Remus nods resignedly, content to continue rubbing at your ears rather than chastise his friends for trying to fit a stag on a loveseat, "Yeah, that'll work nicely- ooh, careful Sirius, almost got stabbed there."

Sirius dodges a prong off of James's antlers, taking them in his hands and holding James's head steady as the oversized buck folds his knobbly knees into Sirius's lap. The back two can't make it, but James fits them clumsily onto the cushion, maintaining his balance out of dramatic willpower rather than the laws of physics.

You decide once they settle that they're no longer in need of your attention, so you turn your head back towards Remus and burrow your face back into his warm chest. You feel it shake with mirth beneath you, presumably at an overdramatized reaction from the two boys opposite you, but you can't bring yourself to care; sleep is at the forefront of your brain in this form.

"Yeah, get real cozy!" Sirius insists, calling so that you can hear him through Remus's thick sweater and beneath the weight of his hand on your ears, "Whatever! We're cozy over here, too, 'never been more comfortable- ah! Prongs, watch the hooves!"

[francesderwent]

so for the purposes of this discussion I’m going to assume that we all agree that it’s not a desirable state of affairs to be sexually intimate with a whole bunch of people just for fun. I know not everybody agrees with that *gestures vaguely to the sexual revolution and the hookup culture*, but if I have to prove that first then that’s going to take forever and I don’t think it’s what we’re talking about anyway.

we’re going to assume that our interlocutor believes sex and love do have something to do with each other, and wants to know why we shouldn’t treat sex the way that most television shows these days treat sex: like kissing on the lips. you’re in love with your boyfriend so you kiss him on the lips. and then you might break up, and fall in love again and kiss a new boyfriend on the lips. in certain circumstances you might kiss someone on the lips who isn’t your boyfriend, like if they save your life or you go through a bonding experience together or something. and eventually you get married to someone and you only kiss that guy on the lips from then on, but you have kissed a few other guys before and it’s not a big deal or a scandal at all. why, is the question, can’t we treat sex exactly the same?

so, point one is: because the whole physical world is infused with symbolic meaning, the human body speaks a language of its own. we don’t assign meanings to the “words”, they’re inherent and universal. you can’t twist bodily actions to mean whatever you want them to mean, they’re going to go on saying what they really mean whether you want them to or not. a slap does not mean love; its violence is not and cannot be loving. a kiss does not mean hatred; Judas betraying Jesus with a kiss adds an extra layer of hurt to his deception.

point two: in order to exist happily and healthily in the world, we need to speak the truth with our bodies, and not try to twist the language of the body into saying something it isn’t. when we lie with the body, the whole real world we live in resists us. we’re trying to impose our own meaning by our own will onto something that already has its own meaning, given it by God, and quite frankly, God’s meaning is stronger and it’s gonna win. think of this as living in a state of denial—even if you can stay in your denial for a little while, eventually, reality will have its say, it will make itself felt. more on this later.

point three: sex, as a word in the language of the body, is saying something other than just “I feel love for you”—i.e. it is saying something different than a kiss. how do we know this? first of all, sex causes bonding on a chemical level in a way that kissing absolutely does not! secondly, sex creates children—and therefore exists on a very different level than kissing! both of these differences point to this: kissing as a “word” speaks about love as desire, when it says “I feel love for you” it’s mostly saying “I want you”. sex as a word speaks something more, it says something in itself about a commitment which is forever. what sex is saying is “I give all of myself to you and I receive all of you in return, we belong to each other forever”.

point four: the only circumstances in which sex can be spoken truly is marriage. sex speaks in the body the same total commitment that is made in the marriage vows, reiterating and confirming the mutual gift that has already been given.

this is sort of where it gets tricky (and where I think TOB speakers often fail their listeners), because when you’re dating somebody, if you’re not being disingenuous and stringing them along until you find something better, you do hope that you’ll be together forever. and so the more you fall in love with someone, the more you naturally (and appropriately, I’d say!) want to have sex with them, because you want to be able to express your longing for that forever. you don’t intend to lie with your body! you want to say what sex says and make it true in the saying of it!

I think the usual Christian response is to say “ah yes, but that forever isn’t yet promised or guaranteed, so you don’t know if it’s ever going to come”. and as much as the person currently head-over-heels in love doesn’t want to hear it, unfortunately it is very real. for every Jack who meets his first serious girlfriend in college, has sex with her because he really wants them to be together forever, and then marries her six years later having had sex with no one but her, there’s just as many (if not more) Jill’s who meets her first serious boyfriend in high school, has sex with him because she really wants them to be together forever, then is blindsided by a breakup and goes on to repeat the pattern with several more boyfriends before she finally finds the “one”. it’s a tragically common story, so common that the trauma of it is becoming harder to recognize. but it causes severe emotional and psychological harm, to give all of yourself to a person hoping for the gift to be received, only to have your whole self be rejected, or trivialized, or used and discarded. it takes tremendous courage for Jill to pick herself up and believe in love again, and often she’s disappointed over and over again. even when the “one” does appear and the gift is finally received completely in marriage, the scars don’t fade completely. I think a lot of people who get their happy ending end up experiencing that phenomenon of psychological backdraft, all their old sexual traumas bubbling up again now that they finally have a healthy sexual experience to know how it should have been. they then have to spend the honeymoon years of their marriage healing from everything that came before. so the usual Christian guidance is “you don’t want to go into marriage with all that baggage, so better to wait just to make sure”.

and while I do think avoiding trauma is generally a good idea, I think this is a little bit of a cop-out. for one thing, it kind of seems to be saying “don’t have sex with your significant other, because you don’t really know if they’re telling the truth about wanting to marry you”—that is, it’s encouraging you to not trust your partner. sure (she said sarcastically), that sounds healthy!! there has to be a better, more loving reason not to have sex with a significant other before marriage. and it’s this: if the Church’s teaching about sex and marriage are really true, then it is just as wrong for Jack to have sex with his girlfriend before marriage as it is for Jill to have sex with her boyfriend—Jack’s eventual marriage to his girlfriend doesn’t retroactively validate every instance of premarital sex! and if Jack having sex with his girlfriend before they got married is wrong, then what we’re saying is it must be hurting them. even though their love story ended happily! even though they did end up giving and receiving the gift of self completely! getting things “out of order” is hurting them and making them unhappy. this is the burden of proof, and it’s much harder than proving Jill’s sexual history is hurting her. and yet if we believe Church teaching, it must be true!

so we return at last to my above point two—in order to exist happily and healthily in the world, we need to speak the truth with our bodies, and not try to twist the language of the body into saying something it isn’t. and here’s the kicker: we are not God. we cannot make a thing so just by saying it. so no matter how understandable it is to try to create a relationship that will last forever by speaking forever with our bodies, it simply does not work that way. when the word is spoken out of the context which makes it true (i.e. when you have sex outside of marriage), it does not and cannot bring that whole context into being—it doesn’t create a vow of fidelity, it doesn’t create a shared life, it doesn’t create a public commitment. someone can have sex with you and then break up with you, someone can have sex with you and then get in their car and go home leaving you there by yourself to sleep alone, someone can have sex with you and then pretend you don’t exist. the sex, on its own, doesn’t create a slippery slope that leads swiftly and inevitably to marriage. it just creates tension between the life you actually have, unmarried, and the unreal life you’re pretending you have in sleeping with one another. it makes all those parts of yourselves that you haven’t shared stand out more strongly, making you feel every little separation as a wound. and instead of creating a sense of peace and security, it leads to a kind of desperate grasping feeling—“we’re acting like us being together forever is a done deal, but it’s not a done deal, it’s not set in stone, so what can I do to make it work, how can I control this, how can I make him want me enough to stay?” even if in the end Jack proposes, the foundation of the relationship has been damaged. it can be healed, and rebuilt! but it is not good for a relationship to develop under that kind of strain. not good, and not necessary.

what’s the alternative? when you wait to have sex until marriage, your dating years with a partner can be years of expectantly looking forward in hope, while also living in the moment. you are not married yet—so your relationship is not set in stone, you’re still deciding what kind of relationship you want to have together, which means it can still get better and better as you build it. talk a LOT! talk about everything! talk about your pasts, talk about your dreams for the future! work out your issues in the present instead of covering them over with physical affection! because you’re not burdened by the anxious desperation to turn a lie into the truth, you will be able to see more clearly what the strengths and the weaknesses of the relationship really are, which allows you to address your weaknesses and work on them! and because you’re not pretending like you’re already totally committed, the prospect of actually making a total commitment will be more and more attractive. when you’re not trying to act like you’re married already, it’s so much easier to have open conversations about the future you want together, and easier to know when it’s time right now to take steps to get there. and that’s exciting! it’s fun to have stuff to look forward to, it’s fun to make plans together!

it’s not a better way because there’s less collateral damage, because you’re hedging your bets playing it safe just in case something goes wrong. it’s a better way because it’s all about letting love develop in its own time, according to its own internal laws. I’m not gonna say “guard your heart”, as if your significant other was an enemy at the gates. instead, “guard your relationship”, because it’s worth protecting, worth giving every chance to be as happy as it can be.

[coffeetank]

Opposing Qualities for your Characters!

I always advocate the concept of Traits and their Inverses when making characters. If you're familiar with my blog, you'll know that in one of my posts, I've told you to use opposing qualities when you make a character to make them real. Here's a link to that post if you haven't come across it yet so you can understand this better: https://www.tumblr.com/coffeetank/747126821111447552/build-characters?source=share ~ List of more opposing qualities to give your characters: persuasive :: manipulative (your character has a way with words and sometimes uses this to get away with things)

humble :: underconfident (your character does not have an ego at all, but they are in actuality always underconfident - show how this can affect their surroundings especially in a situation where others depend on them)

independent :: alienated (your character can do everything on their own and quite literally does not need anyone around, show how this can crossover over with alienation - dig into the emotional background of this supposed crossover)

curious :: invasive (your character has an appetite for knowledge, but they forget boundaries - show how this can get them into trouble)

daring :: reckless (your character has a strong spirit and isn't scared of taking risks, but this can always incline to the bad side and cause them harm - use this to especially add event and conflict in the story)

neutral :: retracted (your character prefers to see both sides before coming to a conclusion and stays neutral 99% of the times, but then when one side needs them more than the other they refuse to acknowledge that need and pull themselves out of that situation - show how this this can affect their relationships with other people especially on a moral ground)

emotional :: irrational (it's always good for your character to have emotional capacity, but it can hinder with their practical side for sure - show how this plays out)

unique :: aberrant (your character has a very solid personality but then some their quirks are too odd to be normal - this is good for revealing an undercover villain/agent/supernatural being later in the story as a twist)

optimistic :: unserious (your character is a positive person, but they take life too lightly sometimes - play with it!)

appealing :: deceptive (your character is absolute delight to be around and wins hearts in an instant - show how they use this power of their to deceive people for their own benefit)

hopeful :: expectant (your character wishes for the bright side - show how this can transverse into having unfulfilled expectations thus making them act out wrongly due to disappointment)

clever :: cunning (as obvious as it sounds, your character uses their intelligence for the wrong - bonus if you mix this with another set of opposing qualities to add depth and layers to your characters)

short-tempered :: violent (easy, simple and impactful; your character loses temper quickly but they damage things around them with every small/big outburst)

Feel free to use these as you'd like! I'll bring you more soon.

-ashlee

[bitchface24-7]

This is a really short request but jayvik x reader who like just randomly cut her hair short one day for no reason other than vibes

A SMALL CHANGE - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: you’ve always had luscious hair. It was the main thing people complimented you on, and you’re starting to hate it. You’ve always wanted to change your hairstyle; try something new. After a minor crash out, you’ve got no choice but to chop it all off. Hopefully, you won't regret it in the morning.

warnings: y'all smoke in this, crash out (no reason in particular described), impulsively cutting your hair, overthinking, your boys LOVE the new look; stop being a silly goose, fluff, pre-established relationship, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I went through a phase for a few years where the longest my hair went was just brushing my shoulders. I had a french bob for a while, I even experimented with bangs that weren't curtain style. I'd love to go as short as Winona is up above but I'd like to re-experience my long hair again before that. Hope y'all enjoy!

Life’s been kicking your ass recently

Nothing has gone to plan. Your work life, social life, hell even some of your romantic life has taken a small hit due to the importance of Hextech and he council breathing down your boys necks.

So one day, when they're out late, and you mean late at the lab, the straw finally broke the camels back. And you crashed out. Hard.

After all this built-up tension, and frustration, you just couldn't take it anymore.

In an oversized t-shirt stolen from Jayce and a simple pair of underwear, you snag your pack of cigarettes out of your bedside drawer. You quickly sit on your windowsill in your room and pop a cigarette in between your lips and start to puff like a train.

It’s not helping you in the way it usually does. You're running your hands through your hair, your leg is bouncing up and down incessantly, your anxiety hasn't wained at all.

As you look out into the distance and see the councillor's tower, you get up and stomp your way to the bathroom. You hastily enter the ensuite and slam your hands into the counter, swiping off all of your toothbrushes, toothpaste, mouthwash, and deodorant.

You look in the mirror and glare at yourself, inhaling shakily and exhaling the cigarette still gently placed in your mouth. You open the medicine cabinet and grab a pair of scissors, and without even thinking, you grab a chunk of hair.

Snip.

You freeze for a moment. Holy shit. You just… yup. You just cut a good chunk of hair off. Maybe like… six inches? Seven?

Well, shit. You don't have the power to reverse time so… you've gotta fix this. You've always wanted to change your hair, even if others disagreed with you. But you thought you'd be in a salon chair getting this mini makeover, not at three in the morning as you angrily cut your hair without thinking.

So you do just that. You start to cut your hair.

Snip.

Snip.

Snip.

More and more hair falls into the sink, it's almost a ridiculous amount. It looks like a small dog at this point. A little bit of layering here, face-framing pieces here, you even add some curtain bangs to accentuate your features.

Almost all of your hair is in the sink by the time you're done. You calmly place the scissors down and look at yourself in the mirror, appreciating your work.

The haircut is the shortest your hair has ever been. It stops at the nape of your neck, there are longer layers, curtain bangs, and a nice voluminousness to your hair now. You run a hand through your hair and giggle. It's so short, so light, so different.

You put two fingers onto your cigarette and inhale once more, taking the tobacco out of your mouth and slowly exhaling, you rub one eye with the hand holding the cigarette, aiming the lighted end away from your face and hair. You smile at yourself in the mirror.

You look good. Better than good. You look fantastic! You freeze for a moment when a freight train hits you. Oh god. Viktor and Jayce have no idea about what you've just done. They're gonna come home and all your hair is essentially gone. What if they hate it? What if they think you're ugly? What if they break up with you?

You shut those thoughts down quickly. They're not vain. They won't break your heart over something so minuscule. You put the cigarette back in between your lips and clean up the bathroom. Cleaning the sink by tossing all the hair you can into the trash, the rest going down the drain. You pick up all the care items you swiped and put them back in their respective spots.

You take one last look in the mirror and casually stroll back to your bedroom, finishing the cigarette and putting it out in your ashtray at the windowsill. A light groan escapes you as you stretch and bundle yourself into your bed. You'll worry about Jayce and Viktor's reaction in the morning.

Its now the morning and you completely forgot about what you did until you wake up and run a hand through your hair.

You chopped it all off last night. Oops.

Some noise in the kitchen disturbs your thoughts, so you whip on some comfy pajama shorts and put some slippers onto your feet, the floors are cold in the morning.

Jayce is bustling in the kitchen as Viktor sits at the island sipping his coffee, and reading the newspaper.

Their attention immediately turns to you when they hear you shuffle into the room. They look shocked at your appearance.

“Holy shit babe,” Jayce starts, almost dropping a pan, “Your hair. It looks—”

“Bad.” You nervously interrupt, as your eyes dart between the two of them. Jayce's jaw stays dropped as he checks you out, Viktor lightly shakes his head and smirks “Good. He was going to say it looks good darling. Phenomenal I’d say. It frames your face wonderfully, and it leaves more skin exposed.”

You feel your face heat up at his deceleration and run a hand through your hair, it fluffs up your bangs and it makes Jayce choke a bit as Viktor sniggers. You sit next to Viktor and he immediately places a kiss on your bare shoulder. “See? Oversized shirt, short hair, easy access.”

A small snort escapes you as you lightly slap Viktor in the chest, “You perv.”

“It's the truth! Jayce, tell them!”

Jayce looks at you, eyes big and pleading, “He’s right. I thought you were attractive before but wow… this haircut really suits you.”

You can't help but smile at your two boys. Your mind made you think the craziest thougts. Jumping through fire to get to those conclusions. But you knew they really wouldn't mind, they love you, not your hair.

And they seem to really really like it.

So having a minor crash out at three in the morning and impulsively cutting your hair was a good thing after all. Who knew?

I too have impulsively cut my hair at 3am, the shortest I went was a french bob. I'm currently growing my hair out after having it short for three years. I want long hair again for a while before doing a big chop like the one up above.

[estcaligo]

Some thoughts about room temperature at NRC Dorms (Diasomnia specifically)

First things first - yes, there's magic and fairies who control the temperature of NRC (as mentioned during the Fairy Gala event). But still, I want to talk about the Diasomnia rooms, because they look cold.

Let's start with Sebek's room (who else's)

His room makes me particularly worried, especially since we know he's sensitive to cold.

The walls are cold stone, and the floor seems to be either stone or tile - definitely not warm and cozy.

The carpet looks rather thin, and the space between the wardrobe and the bed is bare. I really hope Sebek wears slippers!!

There doesn't seem to be a carpet under the desk, but since it's located close to the larger carpet, maybe Sebek keeps his feet on that? or I still hope he wears slippers....

The headboard of the bed? I hope it's not leather - it's far from the warmest material for a bed.

The ceiling is quite high, which is not ideal for keeping warmth in the room.

I also hope the window glass isn't thin, otherwise it would let in cold drafts (if there are any in Diasomnia dorm realm??)

And about the training bench in his room? Sure, it's there because Sebek trains a lot, but maybe it's also a way to warm up in such a cold room....

At least one thing warms his heart - Waka-sama's portrait.

Now, Silver's room

The same cold stone walls and floor. Silver doesn't seem to mind the cold as much though - due to his training, of course.

The carpet in his room is small and thin and there's no carpet under the desk. But does he even mind? How much time does he actually spend at the desk studying anyway?...

The wardrobe is farther from the bed compared to Sebek's room. And I can imagine Silver walking to it barefoot, absolutely unfazed (I need to know more about Silver's dressing routine, how often does he fall asleep while getting dressed, etc...)

His bed is placed right against the wall with no extra layers for insulation. Which is cold!!!

And of course, there's the open window. I was already concerned about Sebek's glass thickness, but Silver's window is just wide open omg.

Clearly, Silver is very resilient to the cold. Good for him?... They also say you sleep better in a cool room, so it only adds to his sleepiness?...

Now to Lilia's room

Same walls, same floor. The carpet here feels purely decorative - it's so small and there's no carpet under the desk. However, I imagine Lilia's legs rarely touch the floor anyway (that's how I picture him sitting while on his PC )

The wardrobe is the farthest from the bed in this room, but again, he probably just floats to reach it.

The window is closed here. I was going to comment on how inconvenient it is to have sunlight hitting your face while using a computer/any gadget with screen, but let's be real, there are probably no sunny days in the Diasomnia realm, so it doesn't matter.

There's is also chandelier in Lilia's room (though I assume all 3rd years' rooms are the same?). The chandelier has lots of candles, but they likely emit light through magic rather than heat.

Another detail - Lilia's pillow is quite small. He probably rarely uses it, sleeping in the most bizarre positions (like hanging upside down bat-style).

And to Malleus' room

It has the same cold walls and flooring as the others but feels much more empty and lonely. Most likely, of course, it was intentional to reflect Malleus' character, but still.

The nightstand is empty - not even a book or a personal item.

On the desk, there are only two items: a figurine (which is a nod to Sleeping Beauty) and a three-candle candlestick. The number three might be symbolic, but it also just looks good, so who knows.

Like Lilia's room, Malleus' room also has a chandelier. Is it significant to fae culture? But most likely just for the Maleficent aesthetic.

The only "warm" elements in the room are the tapestry/flags - cherished gifts from a certain important person in his life.

It feels unnecessary to comment on the space between his wardrobe or the lack of a carpet under his desk since Malleus likely doesn't bother with changing clothes manually or sitting at his desk to study anyway.

His bed has two big pillows and one small - likely the one Malleus mentioned using to support his horns while sleeping. (No spoilers, but the 2024 Halloween event gave us some info about how Malleus sleeps lol)

Also, they are obviously provided with the bedsheets by the dorm, but I assume it's allowed to bring your own. We see Lilia getting creative, Malleus clearly has some royal-quality sheets, and Sebek's are the cutest - baby green, but quite plain (so nothing can distract him from being the perfect guard for Waka-sama). And I assume Silver doesn't care at all, and just uses the basic dorm sheets. Feel free to add your thoughts.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sweet Treat

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You bake one of your favourite fall treats for your coworkers but one of them takes it to mean more than it does.

Characters: Tony Stark

Note: this is the fourth of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The leaves feel more vibrant as you walk along the autumnal street. Clusters sit at the base of street poles and the brisk wind nips at your cheek and nose. You tuck your chin into your woolly scarf and hug the container of treats closer. 

You stifle a yawn. Your exhaustion is well worth the output. You spent most of the night baking. It’s a hobby for you and now that you have your first steady job, you have the funds and the space to do it. And as the newbie in the office, it felt right to add a bit of warmth to the office culture. 

To be honest, you’re trying to fit in. Since you started your desk job, you’ve felt that pressure. It’s all new to you and you feel like every day is a learning experience. Everyone else seems so settled and sure. It’s not like a retail gig where you’re all just trying to get through another day. 

As you get to the front door of the building, your met with a familiar face. Rhodey flicks two fingers in a half-wave and drawls out ‘morning’ as he opens the door for you. You thank him and enter the lobby. 

He trails you along the polished tile and you both stop before the metallic doors of the elevator. He taps the button as you tap one heel impatiently. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. 

“What’s all that?” He asks. 

“Oh, it’s a surprise.” 

“A surprise?” He wonders. 

He’s always nice. He interviewed you and helped you on your first day. He’s too busy for you to run into each other very much, but he’s always pleasant. 

“Yes, you have to wait until you get upstairs to find out.” 

“Oh, maybe I should see if I can beat the elevator,” he kids and looks at the door to the stairs. You chuckle. The doors ahead of you slide apart. “Ah, nevermind, seems like fate is on my side.” 

He gestures you in ahead of him. The ascent is smooth enough. You’re never a fan of the rising sensation that makes you woozy. You step off thankfully, clutching the container firmly to your stomach. 

“Well, I should find my desk,” you say. 

“Hey wait, what about the surprise?” He asks. 

“Oh, yeah, fine,” you face him and slide your arm under the container. You peel the corner of the lid back with your other hand and smile, “apple pastries. Hope you like ‘em.” 

“Homemade?” He asks as he reaches for one. 

“Sure are,” you chime. “I have napkins in my bag but my hands are kinda full.” 

“Nah, I don’t mind a mess,” he sniffs the dessert, “think this will go well with my coffee.” 

“Let me know if you like it,” you smile. 

“Oh, you will know. I might just try to sneak a second,” he says and turns to head off towards the executive offices. 

You shut the container and wade through the desks to your own. You put the container down and strip off the layers of your scarf, gloves, hat, and coat. You finally get yourself set as Marissa shows up. 

“Do you smell cinnamon?” She asks as she wiggles her nose and plunks her insulated cup down. 

“Yes, I do,” you take the lid off and gesture to the container. “Want one?” 

“Hm, apple?” She asks and you nod. “What’s this all about?” 

“I don’t know. I made them so I thought I’d share.” 

“Huh, that’s sweet,” she remarks dryly as you offer her a napkin. “Enjoy that optimism while it lasts.” 

Your cheek twitches. You notice that about the people here. Even if something good happens, they’re suspicious about it. They want to know why or the expect something horrible to follow. 

As more people shuffle in, you offer them a pastry. Everyone seems to like them so far. Yet, you still have lots to go around. 

You get up and Marissa glances over, “any more?” 

“Well, yeah, I was going to go offer them to the managers.” 

“Oh,” she darts her eyes way. “Good luck.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing, just... interrupting for a pastry... kinda... non-productive.” 

“Oh, right,” you pout, “maybe I could just leave them in the breakroom.” 

“Probably a better idea.” 

You’re disappointed. You know the execs rarely go that far. Still, she’s right and she would know better than you. 

You take the container and pass between the other desk. As you pass the hallway to the exec spaces, you nearly collide with someone else. He barely seems to notice until you squeak and save the desserts from spilling. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you eke out as the man struts by only to scuff to a halt.  

He turns back to you, a pinch between his brows and a tick in his cheek. You clamp your mouth shut as his dark eyes penetrate you. It’s him, Mr. Stark, the big boss. You’ve never seen him this close-up. You panic and look around as a hush falls across the office. 

“Would you like one?” You ask out of sheer helplessness. You offer up the container and his eyes slowly descend. His expression doesn’t change. 

To your surprise, he steps closer. He reaches into the container and takes one of the pastries. He examines it then turns away without a word. You stare after him in fear of your livelihood. 

You wait until he’s gone and scurry into the breakroom. You put the container on the counter and catch your breath. Oh gosh. You just blew it, didn’t you? Over something as stupid as desserts. You shouldn’t be handing out treats like Santa Claus, you should be working! 

You put your head down and march out. You go directly back to your desk and sit. You feel eyes on you. Marissa wheels closer. “Told you. Don’t bother the big guys.” 

🍏

The windows are dark as you finally log off. It’s no coincidence that you’re the only one left in the office. It might be futile but you hope the extra work might save you from the fallout of your unfortunate run-in earlier. 

You cross the office floor and dip into the breakroom. You claim the empty container from the counter. You’re happy that your hard work didn’t go to waste, at least. 

You return to your desk and snap the lid on. You gather up your coat and pull on your hat and scarf, leaving your gloves in your pocket. You pack up your bag and sling it on your arm, clutching the container against your hip.  

You push your chair in and turn. You nearly shriek, instead swallowing it to a squeal, as you find someone else standing across the space. You put your hand to your chest and gasp. 

“Sorry, sir, I didn’t hear you,” you gulp. It’s Mr. Stark. Great, you don’t think you’ve done enough to stop the inevitable. 

He comes closer, sliding his hands into his pockets as he approaches. He’s silent as he measures you with a long gaze. The silver at his temples twinkles against the darker strands. He stops at the corner of your desk. 

“You all out?” He nods to the container. 

You flinch, “um, yes, sir.” 

“Too bad. Tasty,” he says. “And that little heart in the pastry... nice touch.” 

“Oh,” you’re surprised by his praise, expecting a full remonstrance. “Thank you. I... I just thought it was cute but, er, sorry, I don’t mean to chatter. I should go.” 

“Yeah, me too,” he says, “another late night.” He clucks and glances around the empty office. “You know, that really... made my day. Not much to look forward around here.” 

Your brows rise and you smile, unsure how to respond. 

“Feel like I owe ya more than a thanks,” his forehead lines as he tilts his head, “and I gotta grab something to eat,” he checks his watch and sighs, “all my meetings went long so could I pay you back?” 

“Uh, sir,” you wonder. 

“You like shawarma?” He intonses. 

“Shawarma?” You repeat, surprised. 

“I know, I know, a guy like me is supposed to live off caviar and fine steaks. You ever just get the craving for something....” he pauses and pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Nasty?” 

You chuckle, “um, sure. I sometimes order fast food.” 

“So? Unless...” he hesitates, “you’re busy? Looks like you’re running behind too.” 

“No, sir, that’s very generous. Um, I... yeah, I could... I could go for shawarma,” you agree, relief flowing over you. You don’t think he’s going to fire you unless it’s a trick. 

“Great, let me just grab my jacket.” 

🍏

Dinner is delicious, though a bit awkward. Your guilt isn’t lessened as Mr. Stark insists on paying for it. You tell him you can handle it but you don’t argue that much. He’s still your boss. 

You pull on your jacket as you leave the restaurant. He holds the door for you. You’re already mentally preparing to tuck into bed. 

“That was nice. If I don’t have some business lunch or dinner, I usually eat alone,” he scoffs as he comes up beside you. 

“Oh? Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” 

“Just as much as that special treat you made me,” he says. 

“Uh, yeah, well, I like baking--” 

“You know, no one ever offers me stuff like that. They all just get quiet when they see me. Can’t even look at me,” he grumbles. “But you smiled at me.” 

“I’m sorry, sir, that’s... they’re just intimidated, I’m sure. Because you’re so smart,” you say. 

“What about you? You’re not?” He asks as you stop next to his sleek red car. 

“No, I am,” you admit. “I’m the newest person in the office, everyone intimidates me.” 

He looks at you long and hard, “really?” 

“Well, yeah, I’m still learning how to do everything.” 

“Who?” He asks. 

“Who?” 

“Who’s being mean?” He growls. 

“What? No, sir. It’s not—no one’s mean. I didn’t say that.” 

“Because if someone’s messing with you, I’ll happily have a special meeting with them,” his expression darkens. 

“No one,” you avow. “Sorry, I must’ve said it the wrong way.” 

“You did nothing wrong,” he counters. 

“Right, er...” you peer over your shoulder, “I should go catch a bus--” 

“A bus?” He echoes. 

“Sure, it’s almost nine o’clock,” you look at your fitbit. 

“My car’s right here, get in,” he says. 

It’s a command and you’ve pressed your luck far enough. You nod and thank him as he opens the door. You sit in the low seat and hug your bag atop the empty container. He shuts you in and strolls around to the other side. 

As he sits in front of the steering wheel, his cologne clogs your nose. It’s definitely expensive. You squirm in the seat. You’re tired and a bit impatient to be home. You still have to go to the office early tomorrow. 

“Well, thanks for the ride,” you stifle a yawn and rub your eyes instead. 

“Lease I can do,” he says. “Where do ya live, sweetheart?” 

Sweetheart? The epithet tweaks your ear but you try not react. You worked in retail, a lot of men love that word. You give him your address. 

“Really? All the way over there?” He asks. “Girl like you shouldn’t be done there,” he tuts. 

“It’s not that bad,” you assure him. 

You drag your hand up your cheek, trying to wake yourself up. You’re exhausted. You’re so used to the 9-5 that you’re ready to flop into bed. 

You zone out at the engine hums. The soft motion of the turns lulls you and it isn’t until you’re halfway in the other direction to your apartment that your instinct kicks in. You sit up and look around. 

“Where are you going?” You ask in a panic. 

“I live closer, sweetheart. You can crash at mine,” he says. 

“Your-- no, Mr. Stark, I can’t do that. If you don’t want to drive me, I can get an uber.” You pull on the zipper of your purse and he hits the brakes. You lurch forward as he reaches over and clasps onto your hand. 

“You don’t need to do that,” he says. 

“Mr. Stark?” You babble. “What’s going on?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Why won’t you take me home?” 

He’s quiet. His eyes fall to his hand and he lets you go. He grips the wheel again but doesn’t go. He sighs and tilts his head back. 

“You gave me that pastry. With the little heart.” 

“I gave them to everyone--” 

“No, but you gave one to me.” He insists. 

“Sir,” you sniff. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. Please don’t fire me.” 

“Fire you--” He turns to look at you, “no, no, no.” 

He fixes his gaze straight ahead and presses on the gas again. He rolls forward and turns down another street. You unzip your purse and once more, he stomps on the brake. You lurch forward and the seat belt digs into your chest as your bag falls onto your feet. 

“Don’t touch that phone,” he snarls. 

“Sir,” you sit back, rubbing where the belt bit into you, “sorry.” 

“It’s just... I can’t see where I’m going with the glare,” he exhales shakily. 

“Okay,” you whimper. 

He drives on. You don’t move. Your heart is racing. You don’t understand what’s going on. 

He enters the nicer neighbourhoods. Where the houses have that modern boxy feel, tall glass windows for walls, and iron gates around trimmed hedges. Their residents spends as much time there as their vacation homes on the next continent. 

He hits a button and steers toward one of the gates as it slides open on a motor. He rolls through as you sink into yourself. This must be his house. You’re still spinning with the suddenness of it all. From the office to dinner to this. One moment stoic and silent, the next smiling and kind, and now... 

As you look at him, his eyes are so dark that the swallow the glow from the dash and the security lights mounted on the house. He shifts into park and kills the engine. You twiddle your fingers and watch him. He reaches over and presses the button on your seat belt. 

You wince and look away as he trails his touch up your arm and to your shoulder. He walks his fingers up over your collar and along you neck. He traces the curve of your jaw as you shiver. 

“You gave me something sweet, baby,” he grabs your chin and makes you look at him again. “I just wanna return the favour.”  

He leans across the space between your seats and pushes his lips to yours. You murmur and grab onto his wrist. You feel the tendons tense as he squeezes you tighter. His mouth parts from yours and he presses his forehead to yours. You’re locked in his hold, paralysed.  

He hums and licks his lips, “You taste just as good.” 

[wheeboo]

seventeen and apologising to their s/o in their native language after a fight

PAIRING. seventeen x gn!reader GENRE: maybe more angsty than expected, hurt/comfort, headcanons WARNINGS. depictions of arguments, terms of endearment, mentions of kissing WORD COUNT. 1.8k

requested by @mirxzii: haii haii my rani ^^ idk if u saw this in the serv last night but!! svt members fighting w so and accidentally saying smthn mean (like i hate you) and they feel so bad they apologize to u in your native language to try n show how sincere they are :((

notes: i kinda dont like how i wrote this, but i hope it came out okay ^^ totally didn't write most of this at like 3am lkjdfsdf its vERY Rushed i wrote everyone past jeonghan in one setting lmasoo

choi seungcheol

"i can't stand this anymore!"

immediately feels that pang of regret in his chest, taking all the responsibility of his words deep in his heart. the heat of the moment had gotten to him and once he caught sight of you shriveling in the comfort of your arms and the tears forming in your eyes, he feels all that prior anger wash away as he reaches over to bring you in his arms, uttering out his apologies and feeling tears brimming in his own eyes.

once you've calmed down a bit, he'd whisper so softly just next to your ear, "i'm sorry," in your native language. "i'm so sorry."

you feel this strange wave of comfort wash over you, hearing him conveying his apologies in your native language bringing a different jump to your heart than what you've experienced.

yoon jeonghan

"so you want to break up? is that it?"

is usually calm and collected during arguments, but there was just a bit more hurt laced to his words than intended. he sees the way your words get caught in your mouth and the way your face distorts achingly. grabs your hand in his, half-expecting for you to let go, but you don't. cups your face with his other hand, thumbing away the tears streaming down your face. starts off with small reassurances and murmurs of apologies, before taking one long look at your face.

"i'm sorry, angel," he apologises in your native language. "i'm so sorry. i didn't mean it like that, i'm sorry."

there's a very inconspicuous lift to the corners of your lips at his words, and he finds himself letting out a soft sigh of relief when you hold his hand just a little bit tighter.

joshua hong

"i hate fighting with you."

you know he means it, even from the gap between you both on the couch and your energy depleted from your spewl of banter. you're both quiet now, and he knows that silence is just as bad as the hurtful words you both said to each other this night. sighing, he closes the space and cups your face gently in his hand, encouraging you to look up at him.

"can you... can you look at me?" he asks, and you do so hesitantly. your eyes meet his, and you can see the genuine regret in them. 'i'm so sorry. you know i love you more than anything. anything."

he says it in your native language, and it adds an extra layer of tenderness to the apologies leaving his mouth, and you can't help but faintly smile through the tears.

wen junhui

"maybe we're just better apart!"

his words hang torturously in the air, and he immediately regrets letting them slip from his lips, the panic beginning to course through his body. he watches as your eyes well up with tears, and he can't bear to see you hurting like this. reaches out to hold your trembling hands in his, his own hand shaking equally with yours.

"i-i'm sorry, i didn't mean it like that, pl-please don't cry, Y/N," he tells you nervously, the feature of your native tongue making your eyes widen. "i love you so much, and i don't want to be without you, please."

when you meet your eyes with his, you feel as if an arrow had shot through your own heart. all you do is silently reach to palm your hands over his this time, and he takes the chance to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

kwon soonyoung

"you're being so difficult right now!"

his frustration had gotten the best of him at this ungodly hour in the middle of the night, yet he immediately regrets his harsh words when he sees the hurt in your eyes. at that very moment he swears he can just drop to his knees and wish your worries away, but he knows it isn't that easy. instead, he takes a step closer, hesitant hands at his side, before caressing your tears away with both of his thumbs.

"crap, i..." he loses his words for a moment, before letting out, "i'm so sorry, baby. i'm so so sorry. i just... i hate it when we fight. i'm sorry."

his words are quick, but you can pinpoint the remorse in them, especially when your heartbeat quickens upon hearing him say it in your native language. his eyes are pleading when you look back up at them as you give him a small smile.

jeon wonwoo

"i can't deal with your drama anymore."

his words cut deep like a knife, and he can see the pain in your eyes once it sets in what he just said. immediately regrets his choice of words and reaches out to pull you into a comforting hug. it's an impulsive act, he knows that it is, but he can't stand the feeling of the words he just said separating the two of you. not ever.

it takes him a few moments of relishing your presence in his grasp before murmuring, "i'm sorry, my love."

it's a very small, simple apology, yet one that warms your heart more than expected once you hear it in your native language. when you pull away from him slightly to look in his eyes, he says it again, each feeling like a new stitch to your heart.

lee jihoon

"you're impossible to talk to."

regrets his words as soon as they leave his mouth, and he feels his chest tighten with guilt as soon as he pinpoints the hurt in your eyes, quickly replacing whatever anger he had with worry. but for a second, he hesitates, and curses himself for doing so. yet when that wall finally breaks, he approaches you, gently taking your hands in his and squeezing them softly.

"i'm sorry, Y/N, " he says in your native language, voice quiet yet filled with sincerity. "i want to talk to you, i just got frustrated, and i... i'm sorry. i really am."

hearing him apologise in your language makes you feel understood, and you offer a nod, even with the tears still brimming in your eyes.

xu minghao

"i'm done with this conversation."

he didn't mean for it to get this far, but he knows right away that resolving this wouldn't get anywhere if you two didn't talk it out properly. and you know it too, seemingly not having moved from where you stood as you gaze at him with a look of defeat. there's just something about it that makes his face soften, and he steps back up to you.

"i'm sorry," he confesses simply in your native tongue, yet it's enough to convey his genuineness. "i never want to push you away like this. let's talk this out, okay?"

you feel the sense of comfort hit you, and you give him a nod, interlocking your hand with his and letting him lead you to the couch.

kim mingyu

"you're making this harder than it needs to be."

it comes out harshly, more than he expected it to be, that it's even enough to shatter his own heart at his own words. his frustration is quick to dissipate when he hears the way your breathing is shaking in the silence, and from the tears starting to form on your eyes. it hurts, gosh it hurts so bad to see you like this. steps back up to you, grabbing your hands and pulling you closer to him.

"baby, i'm sorry. i..." then he takes a deep breath, giving him a moment to secure his words. "i'm sorry, i love you. i'm so sorry."

even in your native language, his words touch your heart as you're quick to pull him towards you, and his large arms wrapping around comfortingly you just like his words do.

lee seokmin

"you're driving me crazy right now!"

his words are loud that you feel it riddling in your bones, drying up whatever you wanted to say. the regret is quick to hit him, so fast that you can't make out the unintelligible spill of apologies leaving his mouth. the tears well up in his eyes at your quietness, knowing he had pushed a nerve, and his hands unsteadily make his way into yours.

"i'm so sorry, sunshine. please forgive me, i..." he pauses, blinking back his tears. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry for all of this. please don't cry... i never want to hurt you."

you hate seeing him cry; you hate fighting with him too, but his words are enough to give him a faint smile of forgiveness. you know that he's sorry, and hearing it in your native language makes it more endearing.

boo seungkwan

"you're being so unreasonable!"

his voice had taken a rough edge at the heat of the argument, the frustration evident in his words. but when he catches sight of the pain to your face, he feels his heart drop to the floor, realising the gravity of what he said, and he couldn't believe he'd let his frustration get the best of him. feels his thoughts begin to soar, trying to put together an apology right away, just anything.

"Y/N, i... i'm sorry, i'm so sorry," he lets out quietly, cautiously, in your native language, voice pleading. "can you... no, nevermind, i'm sorry. i really am."

he's looking deep into your eyes now, trying to decipher through your face, and he can see the instant, slight change when you hear his words.

vernon chwe

"i can't put up with you right now."

it feels cold, his words sending a shiver running up and down your spine like a madman. it's enough to make you freeze in place, making your thoughts think the worst things, yet also enough for him to notice the weight of what he just said. he calls out your name quietly, momentarily snapping you back to reality, having the urge to grab your hand but hesitant to do so.

"Y/N?" he calls out again, and when your glassy eyes meet him, his he feels something drop inside of him. "Y/N, baby, i..." he brings himself closer to you, locking one of his hand through yours and the other to your side. "i'm... i'm sorry, i shouldn't have said that, baby, i'm sorry."

you didn't expect the switch to your native tongue, and you can tell by his gaze how serious he is. but it holds the regret that he feels and the sincerity in his words.

lee chan

"just leave! if that's what you want, just leave!"

his words had been sharp and filled with frustration. you feel like the ground beneath you is crumbling, and it's as if the world is crashing down around you. but almost instantly, his face registers the pain in your eyes, and he realises how hurtful his words were. he steps closer to you, his eyes wide with regret, and he reaches out to take your hand.

"i-i didn't mean that, i'm sorry," he says softly, apologising in your native tongue like it was natural, voice quivering. "i'm so sorry. i didn't mean any of it."

hearing him apologise in your native tongue reassures you that he truly regrets his words, and you slowly nod, though tears still in your eyes, but a glimmer of forgiveness in your heart.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair

[simp-ly-writes]

Gentle-Fellow's

─────── · · A Smosh Fanfic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You, Spencer and your fellow cast mates Angela and Shayne all star in yet another Don't Win Mario Party, Gentlemen addition!

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, part social media au, use of dated terms as comedy, swearing, smoking, fluff, attempt at humour, cute.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,463

─ · · A/N: thank you so much for the ask, anon! sorry it took so long, had to brainstorm some jokes and scenarios but it was a load of fun! 😄

─────── · ·

"Oi! 'ello Chaps, I'm here with my fellow gentle-lads and t'day we'll be playing some good old fashion mario party, just how I like my liquor-" you began to intro to the camera before Spencer was slapping you gently on the shoulder, his body acting out more impact than you actually received but you still fell off the couch for comedic benefit as he put his shoes up on your supposed 'corpse' in good taste.

"Well enough with what that fellow was going on about, I must say we shall play. This game is better suited for a trio rather than a quartet- the same philosophy can also be said for working in the navy. Was much better to night-watch with a trio-"

"Ah yes, I do believe three-and-some is an adequate amount. I have yet to try four but it sounds you would not recommend?" Shayne leans forwards on the couch to fully face Spencer who adjusts his tophat while looking down at you, silently asking if you were okay while laying down off camera. You shot him a smile upwards, rolling over and returning back to the couch.

"Yes, I would not recommend such activities. Too many men with not enough places to go and scope out. Much better to have three, did you not serve to learn this?" Spencer asks with a tilt to his head, his top hat already falling off again as you hold back a chuckle to his playful glare in your direction.

"I in fact did serve! I was a leader, and I good one at that too. Took my whole group to one of the colonies, we had to strip ourselves of layers from how humid the climate was," Shayne clarified, pretending to light his cigar as Spencer lit his own, passing his lighter towards you.

"Thank you, gentleman," you responded, lighting your two cigarettes, wearing them like vampire fangs that had Angela near tears at the end of the couch. "I do remember being down to my undergarments at multiple points with my men, I'll have you know we were all in position within the ama-zone. Quite the discoveries we made there, so uncivilized."

"AYE!" Angela corrected, pointing a finger, her moustache slipping down her face, "I'll have you know my third mistress is from those parts, and she is the best. You mustn't make such hastily claims gentlemen, it is unbecoming of you!"

You nod your head, "yes, yes, very unbecoming. What are we? Boys like our sons? I can't remember the last time I had ashes in my lungs with that child's work," you continue as Angela agrees with a huff, the game seemingly long forgotten as you all carry through conversation, trying your darnedest not to break character.

"Ah yes, I think I have a son or two, I can't quite remember. I think to name them all William, a strong English name," Shanye comments once you all get... gently reminded to play the game you intro-ed over half an hour ago, you hoped that the editors would be able to find something distinguishable in these files.

─────── · ·

"I do believe it is your turn, gentleman," Spencer comments, casting you a wink. "My, I have seen to misplaced that powered-device. Does anyone see it?" Everyone starts to feel around the dips in the couch, Spencer was the first to stand, walking closer to the cameras from where you rolled to during the introduction bit and comes back with your controller, dipping it towards you with a bow.

"Thank you, my, you must be quite the bachelor, charming a fellow like me, oh my," you add with heated cheeks as Spencer returns to your side, his leg nocking against your own as you shout out in disbelief to obtaining a star you DID NOT want. "This is outrageous, I demand a re-play of my turn! I did not intend-"

"We must play by the rules," Shayne cuts you off, tilting his hat down as you stick out your tongue. Angela is focused on not winning the next mini game as you and Shayne continue your staring contest in the following two rounds before you claim victory. "Haha! I have trained with only the best, you can read a lot about another man through his eyes. Have you been hunting before? I love that wild look." Spencer jumps to respond.

"Yes, I must say, you really can tell a lot..." and in that moment you both look at one another. Shayne and Angela are both screaming over something on the screen but you both sound it out, lost in this little moment before realizing your both won... or well lost.

"It appear we have lost," Spencer says, emitting a sigh. "No, I would say we have won," you tease loving the way his cheeks heat up to his ears before you both return to the game more driven then ever to not win.

─────── · ·

Jokes have you all toppling the couch at some point from your rambunctious laughter, Angela is struggling to breathe through her sentence much similar to you over just how funny Spencer manages to be wearing sweatpants and a cheap half tux.

Spencer immediately went to protect your head with his arm as you all fell backwards with a large crash, the crew all gasped out in shock before your laughter only grew more boisterous. "I think I hear a little man again," Shayne comments, forcing himself upright to look over the couch as stars begun to be distributed.

Like snipers at position you all kneeled, your eyes only visible from the turned over couch. Top hats giving away your cover and you had placed second, falling back to the ground in fake shock and relief. Spencer teased mouth to mouth that had you pressing a hand to his mouth and narrowed your eyes at his large ones filled with glee and adoration.

─────── · ·

Angela had lost in the end in first place. you second place. Shayne in third and Spencer being the ultimate winner in fourth.

"FUCK!" and the video ended abruptly to quickly cute to her wearing a dog cone while trying to light a cigarette, only for them to keep collecting down by her neck.

"Thank you all for viewing our game time today, I have had the most splendid time today with you chaps, as I hope you all have ventured the same?" Shayne asks the now upright couch and cast.

"Yes, I was quite filled with delight," you replied, nodding your head and tipping your hat to everyone on the sofa.

"I do agree with my fellow gentleman, here" Spencer replies, clapping you on the wrist this time, very much close to holding your hand, your fingers interlacing while watching Angelas 'winning' speech.

"I hate you all-"

"Why that id not very gentlemanly of you, do you wish to handle these matters outside in more space for our thoughts?" Shayne rebuttles.

"Yes, I rather have a few thoughts to show you," Angela challenged, brow raised as she begins to roll up her sleeves, Shayne doing the same. Alex closes the video by panning upwards and the screen fades to black.

─────── · ·

🔔 Smosh Games just posted! watch now?

─────── · ·

Gentleman's Rules: Don't Win Mario Party (Again!)

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] 👍 67k | 👎 7.78M subscribers 300k views 1 week ago only the politest of games... click to read more

1,110 Comments

username01 (name) and Spencer out here being the cutest even while cosplaying as colonizers, iconic behaviour you two!

username88 09:45 "Ah yes, I do believe three-and-some is an adequate amount" - Shayne Topp 2024

↳ username70 OMG why did I not catch this earlier LMAO 🤣 ↳ username91 or what about 20:01 " What are we? Boys like our sons? I can't remember the last time I had ashes in my lungs with that child's work..." - (name) was UNREAL for sayin' this XD ↳ username70 OMG YES! 🙌😂

username22 I don't know about you but I'm feeling like I'm ready for a whole series of just this cast and just this game. I have had this video and repeat since it's come out! Please. Make. More. 🙏

username14 Literally so in love with how gentle Spencer was being with (name), dropping the persona to held them find their controller and even making sure they didn't fall hard?? 😭

↳ username91 and did anyone notice those little winks? UGH 😩

username40 this is not good material to be eating to, almost choked from laughing so hard, would not recommend.

userame66 That little exchange about seeing into one another's eyes was so poetic, like that bit did not need to go that hard 💗

─────── · ·

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp

[luveline]

Hi love, i would love to see more of spencer x stripper!reader. Hope u are doing good <3

hi thank u, u too! ♡ fem

You press the heel of your palm to the shower tiles, head hanging and hair soaked to the scalp. Rivulets of hot water and soap suds slick their way down your front. 

“You okay?” 

Spencer's voice through the door, a better warmth than any luxurious shower. “Sorry, I'm getting out!” 

“No! No, stay in there if you want, I'm just wondering.” 

You force yourself out of the shower and into a towel. “I'm getting out.” 

“I have some clothes for you,” he says, “I can leave them by the door.” 

You wrap the towel tightly around your chest and step to the door. Spencer's startled face is on the other side, smiling nervously, a bundle of clothes held to his chest. 

“They're my friends. My coworker. Penelope? I asked her first and she said she doesn't mind at all. They might not fit, but…” 

“Thank you. You and Penelope.” You hold out one hand. Spencer passes you the clothes through the cracks of the door and you shut it, maybe unnecessarily. 

Spencer's seen you in various states of undress, but it isn't privacy that's worrying you tonight. You can't help looking over your shoulder, wondering if someone's watching you for a split second of madness. 

You pull on your borrowed pyjamas. A little Japanese cat winks up at you from the pants, the shirt a baseball tee with pink sleeves and a white body. Cute, you think. Penelope must be fun. 

Spencer's in the kitchen making two mugs of tea when you emerge. It's the herbal flavour you favour, steam billowing from the rims like clouds in the cold air. Your long walk in the rain is nearly forgotten by your skin if not your pittering pulse. 

“You okay?” 

“I'm fine.” 

“You sure?” He doesn't give you time to answer, carefully placing the two mugs on the coffee table, before tapping a gentle hand to your shoulder. “You wanna sit down?” 

“I'm really fine, handsome, it's … it's not the first time someone's followed me home.” You smile falsely. 

“That's not okay.” 

“I know.” You point at your cup of tea. “Can I?” 

“Of course you can,” he says, sitting beside you on the couch, leaving a more than chivalrous gap between you.

It's not a gap you want nor need, and after a few sips you've warmed enough to sidle closer to him, in touching distance, and then touching. Thigh to thigh, you watch the tops of his cheeks turn a pretty, blurry pink. “I was scared,” —your knuckles touch briefly to his knee— “but nothing happened. So don't worry about me, Dr. Reid, please.” You layer your voice with a sweetness that comes with seduction, a playfulness to mete his sudden regression into timidity. 

“I worry about you all the time.” He smiles, at least, so it isn't a burden. 

“I worry about you, too.” 

“I know you can take care of yourself, I just can't help thinking about the statistics. I know exactly how likely it is that something bad could happen to you, and it's not that you should worry, I don't want you to be scared, but– it's like, it plays on repeat in my head. It's– I'm not trying to–” 

“Hey, handsome,” you murmur, giving his leg a shy squeeze. “I know. It's dangerous and it's unlikely at the same time. And it feels silly talking about it.” 

“But silly not to,” he adds. 

“Yeah. I know, Spencer, I swear.” 

“I know you know,” he murmurs through a smile. 

“I know you know I know,” you joke back, smiling back sunnily. It doesn't take much of him to cheer you up. Ever since the day you met, he's been like a balm for your rampant aching, a brown-eyed, pretty-handed sweetheart. Whether it's sharing a seat on the train, or meeting up for dinner at the Indian restaurant behind his apartment, or just calling each other on the phone, he knows what to say to fix things. You forget your life, and you get to be with him instead. 

Spencer puts his mug of tea down to hug you. You'd known he was going to. It always happens like this, the two of you together, drinking tea and showing each other just the smallest fraction of each other's hearts. He presses his nose to your cheek as his hands run down the length of your back, and all you can think about is how he knows nearly everything about you and he holds you voluntarily.  

“Love you, Spence,” you mumble into his shoulder. 

“I love you too. I'm here for you, okay? I don't care how scared I am, I love being your friend.” 

You try not to sigh. Friend isn't necessarily what you want to be, but he'd let you in when you buzzed without asking why you were dropping by, and he'd held your gaze as you explained the man who'd been following you, your dead phone, your superglued shoes fallen apart in the typhoon. Spencer's everything a person could ever need. Dependable, vulnerable, sweet, kind, patient. He's pretty in every facet of the word. 

“Is it really that scary?” 

“Thinking about guys following you home?” he asks, rubbing your back gently. “It's terrifying. Weren't you terrified?” 

You blink back the sudden heat of emotion behind your eyes. “Um,” you say, higher than you mean, “uh, it wasn't–” You shrug, but your hands feel shaky and strange. 

Spencer's voice softens, “Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry.” 

You try not to think about what might've happened. When you realised there was someone following you, you didn't think, oh, he'll hurt me, you thought, I need to be faster. I need to get somewhere they can't. 

You needed safety and Spencer was the first, safest place. 

“I'm sorry for coming here.” 

Spencer pushed you away from him without malice, his hands on your arms. Alarm rings his eyes, eyebrows rising, “What? Why would you say that?” 

Because you didn't sign up for this. Because I'm me, and you're you, and you didn't have a choice, you were too good to let me be without you. 

Because, if you think about it, Spencer is more than safety to you. 

He doesn't baulk at your silence. “Hey,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing into the soft skin inside your elbow sweetly, “you like it here, don't you?” You nod. “Then– then who cares why you're here?” 

Spencer pulls you into his arms again. “You'll feel better in the morning… I'm gonna get you a new phone.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Cos that one's always dead. You need to be able to call me when you need me.” 

You smile into his shoulder. “You're not buying me a phone.” 

“Watch me.” 

You don't cry in his arms, but it's a weirdly close call. 

[deerspherestudios]

Hello! 😊 I wanted to add onto the what-if mind reader scenario and further ask about what kind of person would this kind of Michael be able to end up wanting as a partner and what would enable him to trust them. I find this version of him really intriguing and I have a few ideas of my own of what he could want: Someone who is incredibly honest, and finds it difficult to lie - overall an open book. It would possibly allow him to gradually ease up and trust them as they are always easy to read, and he can finally not always heavily rely on reading someone's thoughts for once when he is around them allowing him to further relax. Someone very sincere and genuine especially in their empathy and has a lot of it. Considering all of the bad thoughts and intentions he has heard, he is probably going to need to hear a lot of kind and genuine words to be able to believe them to be true; even if they are already there in that person's thoughts. Being kind, gentle and slow as well as predictable, in general movements and also getting closer to him. I would imagine that he has had to face a lot of aggression as he wouldn't have the ability to force things to be peaceful like in the original version and has a great deal of paranoia. So, he would be less on edge and find comfort in a pattern of actions as well as being slow allows him more time to react and feel overall safer - he also has more layers to protect himself so it would be ideal with someone who would be able to take things slow to allow him to open up on his own time. Someone who is an optimist and has a very stubbornly nurturing, motherly/fatherly kind of personality as well as some naivety and clumsiness. I think his desire to be alone comes from the pessimism that formed from his experiences overall so I think it would probably help him heal and give him hope to have an optimistic way of viewing life - or at the very least be able to find a way to see things in a better light even if he wouldn't agree with the perspective. I also think having them being stubbornly nurturing as a core part of their personality would probably be somewhat necessary for this version to have a story between the two, where the person would be stubborn in getting to help him out and also him feeling reassured that this person is safe and not violent, as that would be a core part of their personality. Additionally, having some naivety with optimism would allow for an interesting clash of personalities between the two; and at the same time when he opens up more them being more clumsy and naive would also encourage him to want them around more to help them out and protect them like they helped him.

I hope I was able to provide some interesting ideas that you could enjoy! 😊 and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day 😌✨✨

For context! That's honestly a pretty good analysis of his character and on the kind of person he'd fall for! Honesty is policy and it's not just on the outside; you have to mean it with your whole being when you say that you don't find him disgusting.

Not a single doubt, not a single hesitance. Perhaps some trace of delusion but he'll take any niceties he can get. Thank you so much for the ideas!!!

[gh0stbeeee]

Thinking about ballet dancer Light.

Preteen Light choosing a sport and taking up ballet because he's always loved the grace, the power, and the emotion in the way the dancers move, because maybe this could be a momentary freedom for him, from the pointless competition that is his life.

Light being asked hundreds of times if he's sure, if he wants this, if this will distract him, if he can work hard enough to catch up to the other kids that have been doing this for years.

Light walking into a ballet class for the first time, one of the few boys, and leaving at the end ashamed at how clumsy he was in comparison.

Light working himself to the bone to catch up, for the first time determined to finish his homework as fast as he could because he found something he wants to really do, staying for hours at the little studio every day and leaving with screaming muscles and blisters on his feet.

Barely able to feel the pain in comparison to this burning passion he felt for the first time.

Quickly catching the attention of the teachers, they tell him if he keeps at it he will have a very promising future ahead of him.

He never tells Soichiro this might be more than just an extracurricular for university.

His first recital goes spectacularly, even though he was only a supporting role, he caught the eye of a recruiter from a prestigious ballet company who told his mother they would keep an eye on him, as his future was bound to be successful (his father was too busy to come.)

The drive home his silent, his face rubbed raw from removing the stage makeup in the bathroom before leaving, when Sachiko says she can talk with his father, if this is what he really wants to do.

Light smiles, saying he'll think about it more before they commit in the future.

The girls start learning on pointe, and Light is intrigued. His instructor says the boys can learn as well, and it would make them better dancers for it.

Light and one other boy agree.

It's an extra layer of work, the stiff shoes feel somehow too much and too little as he stands in a pair for his first fitting, alone as he hadn't told his parents.

But he feels a warm flutter in his chest when he sees himself in the mirror, on his toes like Odette in Swan Lake, his first ballet.

He takes to it even faster than when he'd started. Even when the basic lessons ended, he continued to dance on pointe in his own time. He learns the girls' lead choreography alongside the boys, who were mostly supports for the lead ballerina.

He adds his own twists on it, every movement he makes sharp yet graceful, makes it look effortless yet full of power.

His instructor is amazed, watches as he dances better than the girl who got the lead.

"It's such a shame," she says slightly regretfully, "if you were a girl, I think you would've had a real chance at being made a prima ballerina. That being said, at this rate, if you get picked up by a professional company, I'm sure you'd make premier danseur in no time." She laughs as she says it, a kind joke to highlight his incredible skills and potential, and Light laughs too.

When Light is fifteen, his school is putting on a production of Swan Lake.

And for a brief moment, his heart is over the moon, it has always been a dream of his to dance the ballet. It sinks immediately the next moment, when they call only for girls to audition for Odette and Odile.

He still puts his name in to audition for Prince Siegfried, he learns the choreography, but he can't stop himself from putting his pointe shoes back on and dancing Odettes parts when he is alone. Male point dancers were only used as a joke in classical ballet, he had no hope for the part, but for a while, he dreamed.

He danced Odette, and he danced Odile's Variation, twirled with more grace than a human should have, and he felt like he was flying.

It was after he'd perfected Prince Siegfried's parts to know, and danced Odette's death as his last run for the night, that as his fluttering wings stilled for the last time, he felt trapped again.

The audition was in a day. If he got the part, he was nearly guaranteed a spot in the nationally top company. And he would dance as a man was expected, and he would never dance on pointe on a stage.

He packed away his pointe shoes for the last time.

The next morning, the day before the auditions, he handed them his resignation from the school. He would never forget the despair on their faces when they looked into his eyes and saw that his passion had died. (He'd murdered it in cold blood.)

"Good." His father had said. "A healthy phase, but it was time to get serious about school. You made the right choice."

Light just smiled blankly. His mother pretended not to notice the tear stains on his face when she brought him some apples that night.

(It wasn't until midnight eyes, raven hair, and a chain that he danced again, twirling gleefully to hide the blood stains on his feathers as he showed the detective his old passion.)