#i didn't plan on this being so fucking long

[pieofdeath]

god. pacing. this is ROTD spiff so badly its INCREDIBLE.

so like. i DID intend ROTD spiff to be an asshole!! lord barkis is SUCH an asshole in the movie! he's visibly older than victoria by a good bit. he flirts with her in a way that just feels. sooo gross. there's a scene in the movie that I didn't adapt to the fic because I didn't want ANOTHER pov change where Lord Barkis (IIRC) talks to a portrait of Victoria and says something along the lines of how she wont have to suffer this union for very long. BRO. YOU'RE IN THEIR DAMN HOUSE STILL. I intended ROTD spiff to be similar! just rude and an asshole and unrepentant about his crimes!

and then he just. wasn't. and it's mostly my own fault jakdfjs.

My first mistake was that I made Spiff too young. I made him too close to my age, which made me keep thinking about how I would've felt- I'm turning 20 in march, and I made him 20 in Jan of 1877, which makes him 17 in 1874 when he murders Dan.

My second, and primary, mistake is that I thought about him for too long. When writing the final chapter, I went. huh. Spiff is 20 here, a few years younger than Kevin and Seán (who are 21 and 22-almost-23 in Jan 1877 respectively). and he killed a guy at 17. That's gotta fuck a guy up.

and then i couldnt stop thinking about it. ok. abstracted, we have a guy that has killed a guy and planned to kill another and is still literally only 20. age is not an excuse for Actual Premeditated Murder but you can't tell me that it didn't fuck him up, at least a little. and add that on top of the possibility that he killed the only person who genuinely, really cared about him. how long do you think he deliberated on if he was going to go through with his plan. do you think there was a span of time where he truly let himself love dan. do you think answering "yes" or "no" to those questions makes it worse?

i reblogged this post into the rotd tag back in April. i think that's a good summary of ROTD spiff. a guy who was unloved (woa what who said that) and couldn't handle being loved and made the worst mistake of his life. and proceeded to keep making it because then he could pretend he meant it. spiff can be summed up by "hubris and hates it" i think.

there's a lot of similarities between spiff and jim I think. interpret that as you will. there's actually a really rough idea for an alternative universe where everything turns out fine because jim or grim or someone finds out about spiff's plan to kill Seán before he goes through with it. jim and spiff are murder buddies and rtspiff reconcile- the trio shifts into a strange little polycule in that verse.

and while writing the finale I started toying around with the idea of writing his perspective, and then i listened to a few songs that gave me a few ideas for future events and it was all over. He hasn't left my head. I'm thinking about him ALL THE TIME. I'm only barely exaggerating.

hes a squeaky toy to me. im chewing on him. I'm making him cry. I'm making it better but I'm making him cry.

woa hold on i just rambled a LOT I'm so sorry aksjdfksa I need to go listen to his playlist maybe then ill feel better

[drunkinyourbenz]

IF YOU'RE GONNA LIE, DO IT IN MY BED

SYNOPSIS: billie kept lying to your face, but when she looked at you like that, you didn't really have it in you to care. you did, however, have it in you to push her further by being a brat. RELATIONSHIP: dom!billie eilish x fem!bratty!reader WARNINGS: SMUT, mean billie (oops), reader is a tiny bit pathetic, bratty reader, situationship/fwb, angry sex (kind of?), crying, established safe word (not used), strap-on, oral on a strap-on, deepthroating, gagging, oral, overstimulation, squirting, degradation, praise, petnames (pretty girl, baby, ma, etc.) name calling (slut, whore, brat, etc.), choking, hair pulling, humiliation, dumbification, billie is so condescending in this, toxic dynamic. NOTE: sorry babes i've been totally off the grid, writing this when i should be studying calculus lmao!! this is long as hell i'm so sorry i got carried away 😭 title from the song ‘guess we lied…’ by fletcher. this is oxytocin billie at her finest btw!! also situationship/fwb billie has me in a chokehold !! also i'm on my period rn lmaooo WORD COUNT: 4.8k words

you’d been in a friends with benefits situation with billie for roughly the past four months, but you’d known each other for far longer. billie was too busy for a proper relationship, so the past four months had been all hotel rendezvous and stolen kisses, but no real commitment.

billie would always fuck you better than anyone else could, and you'd be left alone in a cold and empty bed the next morning. she knew how to treat a girl, that was for sure, she was just emotionally unavailable. she needed someone who didn’t need her to actually be present in their life, just there for a good time when she felt like it. 

of course, that was where you came in—you and the countless other girls she had wrapped around her finger. there had been many girls throughout the years, but rumour had it, most of them were gone after less than a month. that knowledge gave you an addictive feeling of importance, something that kept you coming back for more. you might mean nothing to her, but you meant more than the others did. 

you’d planned to meet up today, but billie was late—of course she was. 

she’d been at a party—of course she had. 

chances were, she’d been out fucking one of the many other girls she had totally entrapped in her siren-like charm—she told you that you were her favourite, but you weren’t sure you believed her. she probably told every single girl she fucked that, she just happened to keep you around for longer than most. 

so she stumbled into the hotel room she’d told you to meet her in, forty five minutes late, a resting frown on her face as she kicked off her shoes upon entering the room. you look up from where you sat on the bed scrolling your phone, raising an eyebrow. 

“late again, where were you?” your voice didn’t sound accusatory, simply curious, but you were accusing her of something, and she knew it. 

she shrugged casually, her face still set in that slight scowl. “a party, it’s not important.” 

she was clearly in a bad mood, but you didn’t really have it in you to care. her bad mood was no excuse to leave you hanging for almost an hour. you laughed dryly. “next time, just cancel. i don’t care if you don’t want to see me, that’s fine. just don’t leave me waiting here for you to show up.” 

billie rolls her eyes slightly, through her eyes, it genuinely didn’t matter, and it was irrational for you to be this annoyed. the two of you weren’t dating, she did this with so many other girls, you weren’t special. “god, you’re so dramatic. it was just a party, it’s not a big deal.”

you let out a soft scoff, “i don’t care that it was a party. just let me know next time so that i don’t sit alone in an empty hotel room for almost an hour looking like an absolute loser.” 

“i meant to get here on time.” 

“don’t lie to me, i know that if you mean to do something, you do it.” which was true. if billie actually wanted to do something, she found a way to do it. 

billie raises an eyebrow, “you’re being a brat.”

you bite back another scoff, but can’t stop yourself from snapping back at her. “and you’re being a bitch.”

something seemed to change in billie’s eyes then, one of her eyebrows raising as she took a few steps towards you. you almost instinctively took a step back, a reminder of the control she had over you even when you were trying to be mad at her.

her eyes were a fraction darker than they had been before, her sharp blue eyes fixated on you as she kept waking forward, backing you towards the hotel bed without even touching you—that was the power she held over you. 

“i’m being a bitch? hm, interesting. you don’t look like you think i’m a bitch, you look like you want me to fuck you.” her voice was smooth and level, but there was a sort of harsh bite to it, a warning, foreshadowing for what was to come.

you couldn’t even deny it, not really. you wanted to deny it, but she was right. you did want her to fuck you, despite how little she clearly cared about your feelings right now. 

she took a step closer again, and you felt the back of your knees hit the mattress—you hadn’t even been aware of stepping that far back. she watched you closely, a calculating look in her eyes.

“so? you gonna say it, or what? i know you waited around for a reason.”

again, she was right. why else you have waited around for almost forty five minutes? no one fucked you like she did, and you could tell she knew it, from the smug smirk that always painted her lips when she was fucking into you with her strap. god, she could be so cocky sometimes, the knowledge that she was so incredibly hot was a little too powerful for her. 

when you thought about it, it was kind of pathetic that you’d actually waited around for forty five minutes. like, who does that? why had you sat alone in the hotel room, waiting for her in the silence? why hadn’t you walked out after twenty minutes and gone to the party where your friends were probably drunk off their faces—the party that you had skipped because you already had plans. plans with billie. 

you’d waited around for forty five minutes, and you knew full well that you weren’t going to get her to have a mature conversation. so, you concluded, you might as well make the wait worth it, and let her fuck you. and if you were going to get fucked, it might as well be good. 

so, when you spoke, you kept the slightly snarky tone. “obviously, why else would i have waited around for so long?”

she saw the bratty look in your eyes, and her eyes darkened further. she clearly wasn’t in a great mood, and needed a way to blow off steam—your brattiness was giving her exactly that, an outlet. she huffed, grabbing your jaw tighter as she stared at you. she pushed you so you fell onto your back on the bed, landing with a slight impact on the soft mattress. she crawled on top of you so she was straddling your hips, one of her hands coming to wrap around your neck, pressing down to give you just the right amount of pressure. it was a warning, but you weren’t at all worried. 

“watch your fuckin’ tone, ma. and don’t look at me like that. you’re a brat today, aren’t you?” 

you caught the slight sparkle in her eye in reaction to your attitude, which just pushed you further. she was enjoying this, seeing you act up. you kept the same tone to your voice, looking up into her eyes as her ring-clad hand pressed down on your neck.

“well, i think i deserve to be a brat, after being left hanging for almost an hour.”

she pressed down slightly harder on your neck, her nails digging into your skin slightly and her eyes narrowing as she held your eye contact. 

“is that really how you want to play this? don’t act like you didn’t wait around here like an obedient little slut for that whole hour.” 

you could’ve sworn you felt your brain falter as her words went straight to your core, because when she talked like that, you always melted a little bit inside. you couldn’t find any quick smartass comeback this time, but you didn’t want to look even more pathetic by fumbling for a response you weren’t going to find, so you simply rolled your eyes.

at your eye roll, she pressed her lips together slightly, “where’s the good girl i normally get to fuck? hmm?” she said those words as if your bratty attitude is somehow displeasing to her, but you knew for a fact that it was the opposite. she loved when you were like this, it gave her an excuse to be rougher, meaner. 

“guess i’ll just have to remind you how to behave, won’t i?” 

the hand on your neck snaked around to the back of your head, where she took a fistful of your hair in her hand and tugged roughly at it, sending a stinging sensation to your scalp. she used the hand she was pulling your hair with to angle your face upwards, so you were looking right up into her eyes. you held the eye contact, an almost challenging look in your eyes as you spoke again.

“maybe you should. might wanna hurry up with it, though. getting bored here.” that was a blatant lie, you were not bored, and you could listen to her degrade you like you were her slut for hours, but you wanted to push her. you wanted her to be unable to resist fucking you hard. no matter how good the other girls she’d fucked at the party were, you would be better, and you were sure of it. you had to stand out somehow.

your words did indeed have the intended effect on billie, and she let out a scoff, giving your hair another harsh tug as a reminder that she was in charge. 

“watch that fuckin’ mouth, sweetheart. it looks better when it’s being put to use.”

that, of course, was the perfect opening for another bratty remark, and you were too deep in to resist winding her up now. “well, i don’t see you putting it to use, do i?” 

and… that was it. you could practically see something in the wiring of her brain change as she snapped. “that’s it,” she breathed out, her grip on your hair tightening as she climbed off you, pulling you off the bed and pushing you to your knees on the floor in front of her in an instant. 

“you really can’t learn to shut your pretty little mouth, can you? you know, you’re a lot prettier when you shut up.”

she was unbuttoning her pants as she spoke, and you could see the bulge of her strap-on underneath the clothes. within moments, her pants were discarded on the floor, revealing her signature long red strap. for how long she’d spent on the back and forth teasing, she sure seemed to be in a rush now. her hand returned to your hair, gathering it in a makeshift ponytail, harshly tugging your head back to an angle that worked for her. 

“you’re also a lot prettier on your knees, so gorgeous f’me.”

those words were misleading, almost soft. when she spoke again, her voice was raspy as she looked down at you with that harsh look in her eyes. “my fuckin’ slut. gonna take what i give you, and you’re not gonna complain.” 

that you weren’t, even in your bratty state, you knew you weren’t in a place to complain, on your knees in front of her. plus, you were pretty sure that you wouldn’t need to complain, not for this. you were right, when she pushed the strap-on into your mouth. you hollowed out your cheeks to make it easier to take—not that billie was at all concerned with whether this was easy for you. she wanted to make you cry, she wanted you to be an absolute mess, right there in front of her and on your knees.

your tongue swirled along the sides of the strap, putting on a show for her. she smirked, loving that she had finally shut you up. the satisfaction of seeing you no longer talking back didn’t last for long, however, and soon she had tightened her grip on your hair, holding your head firmly in place. then, she started thrusting the strap as deep as she possibly could inside your mouth.

you faltered at first, your gag reflex acting up, as always. you’d always had a bad gag reflex, but billie didn’t seem to care. after a moment, you managed to sort out the gagging reflex, but it wasn’t long before it was acting up again. you could feel the tears prickling at your eyes, as you always did when billie did this. you were convinced the only reason billie ever got you to suck off the strap was so she could see you cry when you gagged. 

after a while, you felt the tears rolling down your cheeks, mixing with the spit that had gathered around your mouth from the sheer pace at which billie was thrusting the strap into you. you let out a muffled whimper around the faux dick, and if you could look up and move your head from the tight grasp billie had on your hair, you’d see the cocky smirk painted on her face. she loved shutting you up like this, and she loved seeing the tears rolling down your cheeks. it was a reminder that she could make you into a mess like no one else ever could. 

“god, look at you. so pathetic f’me.” 

eventually, once billie was satisfied with how much of a mess you were, she pulled the strap out of your mouth, using the still-harsh grip on your hair to pull you up off your knees. she manhandled you to your feet in front of her, looking you up and down for a moment with a smirk. she took a moment to just take the sight in, your hair messy from how she’d held it, your cheeks tear-stained, and a slightly dumb, empty look in your eyes—oh, how she just adored how much of a mess she could make you. 

it wasn’t long that she spent admiring you—she was still in a bad mood, and she desperately needed to blow off some steam. pretty soon, she had crossed her arms while she looked at you closely, “strip.”

you didn’t hesitate—she was unbelievably good at stripping you of your brattiness, as well as your clothes. you could feel any stubbornness you’d had leaving your body at an alarming speed. once you were stood there in front of her in just your bra and panties, billie’s lips twitched up into a small, satisfied smirk. she placed a hand on your shoulder, pushing you backwards to the bed with ease, and you fell backwards onto the sheets and pillows that had been perfectly smoothed out by the hotel staff earlier that day—they wouldn’t be looking that flawless for much longer. 

she took a few more moments just admiring you, in front of her on the bed, almost bare. her index finger slipped under your panties before letting them snap back onto your skin with a teasing grin. her other hand moved to your bra, where she tweaked at one of your nipples through the lace, the sharp pain rushing straight to your core.

it wasn’t long before she’d manhandled you into the position she wanted—from behind, it seemed to be a favourite of hers—and rid you of your bra and panties. she lined the strap up with your entrance, and within moments, she’d thrusted the strap fully into you, not giving you any time to adjust. one of her hands circled your clit teasingly, dipping inside your pussy briefly and gathering your wetness on her finger with a smug smirk.

“so wet…that all from me throwing you around? treating you like some dumb toy? fuckin’ whore.” 

you let out an utterly pathetic whimper, and she chuckled darkly as she thrusted into you roughly from behind, your pussy swallowing her so perfectly, so willingly—a huge contrast from the bratty display you’d been putting on earlier. her hand squeezed at your ass as she gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail again, harshly forcing your head back. 

“mm, look at you taking me so well, so much prettier when you just shut up. moments like this remind me why you’re my favourite.” you were sure you weren’t her favourite, you were sure she said that to all her girls, but you didn’t care. you let out a moan at her words, and she gave your hair another tug in response. “so fuckin’ pretty when you let me do the thinking, baby.” 

she gave your hair another harsh pull to emphasise her next words, “dumb brats don’t need to think, yeah?”

you whined again, and she laughed, the hand that was grasping your hair moved to circle around your neck, squeezing slightly. it wasn’t enough to really hurt you, just a display of dominance—as if the way she was thrusting into you wasn’t enough to tell who was in charge. 

the metal of her rings dug into the skin of your neck as she squeezed, and another moan spilled from your lips at the feeling combined with the pace at which she was fucking you from behind. 

keeping her pace the same and her hand around your neck, she asked, “colour?” she always checked in, no matter how caught up in fucking you she might seem, she was always attentive to your signals. 

“green,” you muttered, surprised you even managed to get a word out with the amount of pleasure you were feeling.

she grinned, although you couldn’t see it, and kept pounding into you at the same harsh speed, the hand that wasn’t around your neck squeezing your ass again. then, she leaned over to speak in your ear, her body pressed against your back. her lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. god, she knew what she was doing. 

“still think i’m a bitch, hm?” 

you debated just not replying, but you knew that being bratty again was just what she wanted you to do—and who were you to deny her? “a bitch who’s fucking me good, yeah.” 

if you could see her, you would’ve seen her smirk widen as her warm breath fanned over your neck near your ear, and she gave your ear a teasing nip, “still a brat, i see. guess i’ll just have to fuck it out of you.”

she moved away from your ear, the hand around your neck moving back to its previous position in your hair, tugging your head back with her harsh grip. her other hand moved to your hip, holding you in place as she thrusted into you. another trail of moans fell from your lips, your hands moving to dig into the sheets of the bed. “i’m- fuck, billie—” 

she laughed condescendingly, giving your thigh a slap, and you whimpered as the pain sunk in. “mm, a bitch who’s fucking you so good you can’t even form a whole sentence, right?” 

you just cried out at her words, your hands gripping the sheets as your walls clenched around her strap, your head going fuzzy from the pleasure she was bringing you. you didn’t care how many other girls she had fucked right before she got here, not when she was fucking you this good. you were so, so close, and she could tell.

“cum on my cock, baby. wanna see you fall apart,” she gave your hip a squeeze and tugged your hair, and that was enough to push you over the edge. you came with a moan, clinging onto the sheets like your life depended on it, pleasure washing over you in the most intense waves. your eyes squeezed shut as you mumbled incoherent nonsense, “bils, fuck—oh my god…”

she grinned again, keeping up the bruising pace, which you assumed was just her helping you ride through your orgasm. but even once you’d come down from the intense pleasure, she was still thrusting deeply inside you, causing whimpers to fall from your lips. 

“bils, too much–fuck, it hurts—”

giving your hair another pull, she spoke with that same raspy voice, “i don’t care if it hurts, you’re gonna take what i fuckin’ give you, mamas. you know what to do if it’s really too much.” 

you let out a strangled cry as she kept pounding into you, the pleasure mixing with pain and creating an intense feeling of ecstasy—but she was right, if you needed her to stop, you knew what to say. but you didn’t, you just kept letting out those same broken moans as your hands tangled in the sheets. your release was gathering around the base of the silicone as she pounded into you. 

she let go of your hair, moving her hand so both of them were firmly holding your hips, keeping you in place as she fucked into you at that bruising pace. you were almost certain you would have bruises from how firm her grip on your hips was—not to mention how unlikely it was that you’d be able to walk the next day—but you didn’t care. it just felt too good, her fucking into you like this, the way she was manhandling you…

it wasn’t long before one of her hands snuck down to your clit, circling it torturously with her index finger and drawing even more desperate moans from your lips. you were embarrassingly close to your second orgasm, it couldn’t have been longer than five minutes since you came down from the last, but you could feel your walls clenching around her strap again. 

billie noticed this, of course, and you could visualise the smug smirk on her lips when she spoke. “gonna cum f’me again, pretty girl? god, you look so much better like this.” 

so, you came around her cock for the second time that night, moans falling from your lips like music. your arms were aching from holding yourself up, and you slumped down slightly, resting your head on the newly messed up sheets of the bed, a soft sigh escaping you. your thoughts were jumbled and you couldn’t pick out a single coherent thought amidst the mess of pleasure, your thoughts just a repeating mantra of billie’s name. 

after a moment, billie pulled the strap out of you, and you whined again at the feeling of emptiness that took over you. she laughed softly, a slight condescending undertone to it, before grabbing your shoulders to turn you over so you were laying on your back. her touch was decidedly more gentle than it had been earlier, but she clearly wasn’t finished with you yet. 

once you were on your back, she pushed your thighs apart and settled down between them, propping herself up with her elbows and looking up at you. her lips twitched upwards when she took in the expression on your face, you were completely wrecked—and she’d made you like that. she watched as you took deep, heavy breaths, your head resting back against the bed as you stared at the ceiling. 

“can you move up f’me? get your head on the pillow, ma.” 

her voice was almost soft, and you nodded quietly, using your weak arms to pull yourself up the bed slightly. once your head was resting on the pillow, you let out a soft sigh of relief—your neck was aching from how hard she’d been gripping it, so the pillow gave you some much needed extra support. 

she looked at you for a moment, before speaking again, that raspy hint to her voice still very much present. she seemed a bit more cautious than she had been, a lot of her frustration from the day clearly fading from how hard she’d fucked you. “i wanna taste you, baby. colour?” 

you nod softly, exhaling slowly. you were exhausted from how hard she’d been fucking you, but you needed her mouth on you. “mhm, green.” 

it didn’t take any more confirmation for her to lean down and bury her face in your pussy, her hands gripping your thighs and holding you firmly in place. her tongue licked a stripe up your slit, drawing a loud moan from you. your thighs instinctively closed around her head, the amount of pleasure she’d given you hard to bear. she tsked, giving your thigh a warning slap and firmly forcing them open again,

“stay still.” 

two fingers slipped inside you with ease, and she started thrusting them inside you at a torturously slow pace while her tongue circled your sensitive bud. the slow pace was a contrast from how fast she had previously been pounding into you, and you knew she was doing it on purpose to drive you insane. everything she did was always so calculated, exactly what you needed at that moment to make you fall apart, to make you an absolute mess for her. 

her free hand moved up to your tits, giving them both a soft, misleading squeeze, before harshly pinching your nipple between her index finger and thumb, laughing mockingly when you let out a soft cry of pain.

“oh, it hurts? hm, you’re fuckin’ pathetic, baby. such a mess.”

the sounds of her fingers inside you echoed around the hotel room, the only sound other than your moans. you were so impossibly wet, and you could feel another orgasm approaching rapidly as her fingers curled inside you, “mm, you’re taking me so well. such a good, dumb slut for me, hm?” 

your walls clenched around her fingers at her words, and she grinned, nipping at your inner thigh teasingly before returning her tongue to your clit. “yeah, my good little slut. like when i call you that, ma?” 

you moaned again, and you were coming on her fingers before you could stop yourself, your body going limp against the bed as you were hit by your third high of the night, moans falling weakly from your lips. 

billie didn’t stop her movements, her tongue moving from your clit to your pussy, gathering your taste on her warm tongue and moaning softly. her fingers replaced your tongue at your clit, and you flinched as they circled your sensitive bud. 

you let out a whine as her tongue kept up her movements, slurring out a soft protest through the pain of being so overstimulated, “bils, i can’t– ‘m too sensitive—”

she hummed against your pussy, the vibrations eliciting another moan from you. she pulled back ever so slightly to respond, but you could still feel her warm breaths hitting your clit in the most achingly pleasurable way.

 “fuckin’ take it like a good girl, know you can.” her fingers kept circling your clit. “you want to be a good girl for me, right? make up for being such a brat?” 

you nodded desperately, because yes, you wanted to be her good girl. you wanted to please her, “yes, fuck– wanna be your good girl, billie-” 

billie grinned, her tongue returning to where it had been, slipping inside you as her fingers teased your clit, “mhm, my good girl. my favourite girl.” 

you whined at the pleasure she brought you, trying not to close your thighs around her head again as they shook from the sheer pleasure of this moment. you didn’t even really comprehend her words, the way she kept throwing around the lie that you were her favourite.

you didn’t even care if you weren’t her favourite girl, being one of the girls was more than enough for you. you didn’t care how many other girls she’d fucked right before this, because you could feel her tongue coaxing yet another powerful orgasm out of you. a sob left your lips, the pleasure overwhelming you and taking over your body in every way possible. god, she was too good at this.

you opened your mouth to warn her, but all that came out was a moan as she flicked your clit with her finger, and the dam broke. your head fell back against the pillow as liquid gushed out of you, soaking her chin and the sheets below you. 

she eagerly lapped at it, and you let out another strangled whine, your hand reaching out to her head. your fingers tangled in her hair, trying to guide her off you. your things were shaking, your skin tingling, your body drenched in sweat, your mind foggy.

it was too much, the pleasure becoming too overwhelming. you’d have told her that if you could form words, but she took your signal and dragged her mouth away from your pussy, pressing a few soft kisses to your inner thigh. 

“mm, look how messy you are, mamas. such a messy slut, all for me?”

you whined softly as she pressed kisses to your trembling thighs, “all for you.”

she grinned up at you smugly from where she lay between your thighs, her eyes raking over your face and body. her smile widened as she took in just how wrecked she’d made you, your hair messy and your body limp and exhausted, paired with the marks that were already appearing on your hips and neck from her harsh grip. she found you unbelievably gorgeous when you were like this, and she gave one of your thighs a teasing squeeze. 

she had fucked the brattiness out of you, just like she’d said she would. 

“see, baby, what did i tell you? so much prettier when you’re not being a brat.”

[theclearblue]

The Razor Blade scene: Character assassination, a joke, or something else?

I've been seeing people discuss two small scenes connected to each other post Fishman Island and in Punk Hazard, the first where the two are bickering and they say this:

And a scene in Punk Hazard where Sanji packed lunches for Luffy, Zoro, Robin, and Usopp and Zoro is making "crunching" noises in the panel, and Oda reveals in an SBS that Sanji did actually put razor blades and poison in Zoro's food:

I have seen claims of character assassination in this scene for Sanji, considering his position on food being something everyone has a right to and his refusal in Whole Cake Island to put poison in the cake they plan to give to Big Mom:

I understand that comparing the two scenes, it does look like Sanji is abandoning his ideals just to get back at Zoro in their fight. But we need to look at both what Oda is saying in the SBS and also Zoro and Sanji's relationship to understand this scene, and why I don't believe this breaks Sanji's character or his ideals.

In the SBS, Oda ends the answer with "The serious nature of their fight is what makes it interesting." Going back one panel and seeing what triggered this fight:

It was Zoro being a lil shit and calling Sanji "Nosebleed-kun." That's to say, this fight is no more serious than their usual bickering, and Oda is making fun of that. Ultimately, this scene and the lunchboxes is a running joke, so that is one thing to keep in mind is that the scene, and Sanji by extension, is not serious about this fight. Of course, jokes are not immune to committing mischaracterization, so we have to look at their relationship too to make sense of it fully.

So why did Sanji actually put poison and razor blades in Zoro's food if he believes that poison shouldn't be used in food? I think at the end of the day, we have to remember that Sanji would never hurt anyone through food, especially the ones he cares about. And he does care about Zoro, it is shown time and time again that they watch out for and care for each other, from Long Ring Long Land, to Thriller Bark and Saoboady, and in Wano. My point is that Sanji knows that Zoro is a freak of nature and wouldn't actually be hurt by the razor blades or the poison, and that he would finish the food.

Zoro actually eats the damn food and literally says nothing about it, Oda didn't even think people would catch this it was such a small detail, but it's one I really like. One because, honestly, it is a funny joke to me, but also it shows a level of trust and understanding of each other? Sanji knows that Zoro is such a brute that he can just fucking. Chomp on metal (which. you know he does on the regular anyways LMAO) and have a little bit of poison go through him and he's literally fine. This is no worse to me than Sanji kicking him. And Zoro just accepting what he's been given, literally no complaints, and he finishes the food and doesn't waste it, because he DOES respect what Sanji does for him and the crew on a daily basis.

Ultimately, the difference in this scene and in Whole Cake Island is that Sanji KNOWS that he isn't actually gonna hurt Zoro by pulling this on him, hes looking to call Zoro on his taunt and be an annoying brat back to him. Bege is seriously asking him to kill Big Mom through the food that he makes, something that's on a completely different level then him pulling a prank on Zoro. The razor blade joke no different in this scene as well in Wano:

I don't think this is out of character for Sanji, it is their usual pettiness on full display, but also serves as a nice small detail into how they understand and trust each other.

[rafayelsgf]

[spoilers] just listened to rafayel's secret times: treasure (finally reached affinity level 70 yay) and fucking hell i Bawled so bad (i didn't expect this to be so fluffy MAAN)

basically, a self-indulgent list of what rafayel did during your period to lesson your cramps and make you feel better:

made you warm milk

planned to call an ambulance bc you don't look well even if you don't have a fever

doesn't have any experience with this yet still tries everything he can do

was supposed to be on a date & had a dinner reservation but canceled it and he's trying to cheer you up: "we'll have other chances to see the night sky..."

offers his shoulder for you to lean on

felt how cold your hands were, so he gave you a blanket

"if you want or need anything, just call me. today, i'll be your bodyguard." (i would be fucking lying if i didn't say i sobbed so hard here.)

offered himself as your sofa because he saw your uncomfortable you feel lying down: "yeah, lean on me."

gives you a massage to take your pain away ):

constantly asks you and checks up on you during the massage bc he doesn't want to hurt you ):

still tries his best massaging you despite not being his expertise: "these hands excel at many things, but not this."

can also be your personal punching bag: but if you wanna hit me, you can do it. gently."

offered himself (again) to be (gently) punched bc he saw on the internet that exercise will make you feel better ): and as per rafayel, hitting him counts as exercise ):

loves to crack up jokes just to see you smile )))):

you must be wrapped up in a blanket (he checks up on you again)

wants you to lean on him if you're more comfortable in that position: "as long as you're not frowning, i won't feel tired."

literally fucking hums a song for you PLEASE ))))):

reminisce with you and show you the night sky (pictures he took) since you are unable to go out rn ):

shows you the pictures he took and the story behind it in his softest voice ):

lets you enjoy the photos while you guys just sit and talk to help you sleep ):

wants you to get better soon bc it's hard for him to see you unwell ):

says that he's bad at taking care of others but assures you that he'll be a good sofa and stay with you the whole night ))))):

also will personally cook something for you in the morning ):

"good night. i won't leave you."

this is honestly my favorite secret times audio now. oh god, rafayel, my standards just went so high. the fucking man you are ): i love him so much.

[ragnarokhound]

thinking fondly of you<3 want to ditch the kids and go to a winery this weekend? (drink some red wine(supernova))

also thinking fondly about jaytim. specifically, about how oftentimes we think of them as a slow burn… but you know what might make them a fast burn (an explosion?)?

one of them gets kidnapped and everyone thinks they’re dead:( but then they’re alive

Always, love, I'm sure they'll be happy to spend some time with their favorite familial babysitters, I'll give them a call tonight🍷💥

And OUGH. Yes. SUCH a classic action hero hurt/comfort trope, I'm always here for mortal peril being the trigger that forces a couple to realize what they mean to each other and that they WANT to take that chance!!

I am reminded strongly of one of feyburner's comics that I love so much... in this comic they were hooking up beforehand and this is the scenario that like. Makes it emotionally REAL for Tim and i love that sooo much... but also OwO

thinking about The Scenario:

One of them is kidnapped. Due to inspo in part from feyburner's comic, I'm thinking Jason. But it's been so long/the method in which he was taken leads everyone to believe that Jason's dead. EVERYONE. Tim included. Thinking that he's dead hits Tim harder than expected. Why? It doesn't make sense. I didn't even like him that much, what the fuck.

But he goes after the bastards who did it twice as hard, ridden by this sharp grief he didn't know he would feel. He's on a warpath. He's chasing down leads, shaking down goons, snapping at everyone that it doesn't matter that Jason's already dead this is about justice this is about vengeance this is about preventing it from happening again-- and finally finds the Organization's big base. Their big HQ.

Methodically he goes about tearing it down, one-man guerrilla style. As he moves through the complex, KO'ing goons, sabotaging weapons and computers, hell he might even rig this place to blow--

He picks up chatter about moving the 'livestock' and 'dealing with the troublemaker' and figures there must be human prisoners here. Possibly trafficking victims. He's been raising all kinds of hell, and security is just now going on alert as they find the evidence of his entry--

--when over one of the radios on the goons he just took out, Tim hears a very familiar and very alive voice taunting the Organization that he's out. They should have killed Jason when they had the chance.

Tim immediately factors Jason and the victims into his plans, gets in contact with Jason over the radio (full mission mode, no time for feelings or explanations yet) to work together on bringing this place down.

So by the time things are cleared up-- bad guys busted, victims rescued, base blown to smithereens-- Tim has been wildly coming to grips with the fact that Jason is alive after all and the confusing rush of emotions that's inspired in him, but Jason still has no idea that everyone thought he was dead.

So when Tim finally sees Jason in person, missing half his gear and still wearing the clothes he was snatched in, dirty and bloody and asking what took him so long-- he's not exactly thinking clearly, okay? Kissing him was a purely adrenaline/relief fueled action.

"Woah," Jason breathes once Tim gives him the chance. "What was that for?" "Thought you were dead," Tim muffles against the skin of Jason's throat. His pulse beats hard against Tim's cheek, his lips, sternly refuting the allegations. "Oh," Jason says, bowled over and bewildered. He's still holding Tim with an arm around his waist, his other hand cupping the back of his head, big and steady. "Well. I'm not." Tim squeezes tighter, his fists trembling in the back of Jason's shirt. Jason is solid, and warm, and alive-- and Tim might be in love with him. "Yeah," he apologizes. "Sorry. Had to check." Tim's clearly stumped him. "Huh." Tim doesn't let go. But neither does Jason. Jason clears his throat. "You know, I don't have the best track record with being alive after all," he says in a rambling tone so casual it makes Tim's chest hitch. "You maybe wanna... check again?"

[secretkinkz]

Can u write where it’s a age gap between Toji and reader. Where Toji is toxic, manipulative, mean to the reader and is sleeping around with other women or girls and reader doesn’t know until she checks his phone since it’s buzzing like crazy (Toji in the shower washing off one of their perfume) and reader sees them sending pictures and reader is crying and started packing when Toji is done taking a shower he doesn’t see her (reader) and sees that his phone is open and 1 week later goes to see reader. When he sees reader he gets her in bed and manipulates her and says all the good things about the other girls when he was sleeping with them.

You don’t have to I just thought of that. I love reading ur stories 🥰

Another request that I didn't see 😭, But baby. Y'all are giving some good requests. Okay so, I tried to understand what you wanted as much as I could. Here ya go sweetie..

~~~

MODERN AU

Warnings, not many: Cheating, mentions miscarriage, Manipulation, age gap (19/32) and, fem pov!

You lay in bed scrolling on your phone slowly, watching the adventures your friends go on.

They finished high school a year ago, some of getting married, or having kids, or just living the single dream. While you, on the other hand..

You were living with your boyfriend. Your parents kicked you out for getting pregnant by an older man.

"He wasn't good for you, he was abusive, toxic and controlled your mind."

Even as you begged them not to do this, they did it anyways.

They had plans for your future, plans you didn't know about but assumed you would go along.

Of course after you got kicked out, your boyfriend invited you live with him.

After 4 months of living together, you suffered a miscarriage. Toji blamed you, told you that you should've taken better care of yourself. He loved that baby, yet you let it slip between your fingers.

Cutting through your thoughts was the sound of Toji's phone buzzing rapidly. This was the 4th time it went off. Maybe it was an emergency..

You grab his phone and unlock it, looking at the messages.

{Hey, last night was great! I hope we can do it again, but not this week... I'm still a little sore. You're so big.. Here's a pic I took while thinking about you, enjoy.}

Your dry became dry, unable to stop scrolling you stare at the picture the woman sent. Her in lingerie, her... Breast...

You slam the phone down for a moment, trying to calm your racing heart.

There's no way Toji was.. cheating on you. You refuse to believe it.

You pick up the phone once again, going through all of the messages. There were multiple women, the majority of them knew about him being in a relationship.

They know about my miscarriage, he seeked comfort from them. The weeks he left me... He was busy being in the arms of another woman..

You place your hand over your mouth, muffling your cries. You had to leave, even if you had nowhere else to go. You couldn't stay here, not with Toji.

You stand up and quickly stuff your things into a suitcase, sobbing while doing so.

You had enough money for 9 days in a motel, that should do. Closing the suitcase, you quickly leave.

It wasn't long before Toji finished his shower and stepped into the bedroom, looking around. He stared at the scattered clothing on the floor in confusion.

"Y/n, what the fuck is up with the mess?" He called out, drying his hair as he reached for his phone.

Toji mentally cursed himself seeing Sabrina's message open.

He rushed downstairs, calling your name but there was no response.

"Fuck!"

~~~~

A week passed, you were struggling to get a job for a while but managed to get one at a diner. You had two days until you had to checkout, you could manage being homeless until your paycheck. You had a car, there was a free shower nearby and you could wash clothes at the cleaners.

As you were brushing your hair, there was a knock at your door. Room service?

You open the door, but once you see Toji you attempt to slam the door shut but he puts his foot in the way. "Fuck!' he hissed, kicking the door open. You fall on your butt as the door swings back and hits you right in the nose.

"Come back home." Toji shut the door behind him as he walked in.

"How did you find me?" You cried, backing away from him. "Location, you stupid fuck. I gave you time alone, now come back"

"You cheated on me, told them about the miscarriage.. I'm not coming back." You hiccuped, as he towered over you. His eyes seemed to be pitched black right now, he was pissed.

Toji gripped my arm and pulled you to your feet. "I love you, Y/n. They didn't mean anything. I-I had to cope. You were broken... So I sought comfort elsewhere. For just a moment, I promise. I never wanted to hurt you. Can't you see, baby?" He kissed you, rubbing your back in soothing motions. "Don't leave me. You're mine, I'm yours. They were a one time thing."

His thumb grazed your cheek, wiping the tears away. "I need you, okay? I was planning on ending things with them."

You close your eyes, wanting to believe his words. But you knew they weren't true. "You're lying, if you really loved me. You wouldn't have done it in the first place."

Toji's jaw tightened for a moment.

"Y/n, don't be like that.. Fuck, I really love you. But I was vulnerable.. I regret my decisions. Forgive me, I'll change."

He kissed your lips, nose, forehead and neck. "Please."

You lean into his touch, tilting your head to the side as he bites your neck gently, while his hand traces the sides of your shorts.

Not muttering a word as he pushed you towards the bed, pulling off your shorts as he kissed your stomach. "We'll try again, if that's what you want."

Soft moans escape as he presses his thumb against your clit, his tongue diving between your folds.

Pathetic, really. You spread your legs for him again, even after his unfaithfulness.

You clench the sheet, arching your back as tears fall from your eyes. Not forgiving him isn't an option, if you leave him then you'll be homeless. You refused to go back to your parents, they turned their backs on you.

You would have one last time with Toji before completely shutting him out of your life, even if it hurt. You couldn't allow him to continue hurting you.

"Don't cry, I'm sorry." Toji whispered, kissing you.

He positioned himself at your entrance, his touch was gentle and sincere.

Whispering loving words as he eased himself inside, moving slowly.

"I love you." "I'll never do it again"

He was my first love, the first person to tell me they wanted me, to touch me, the man I sacrificed everything for.

I thank him for my child, the few months I had with it.

But I can't waste my youth going in circles with him.

The night ended with slow and passionate sex but before the sun rose, I quietly left. Checking out and completely disappearing from the face of the earth.

Starting over, and forgetting about Toji. Even after his spammed messages, telling me I'd never find love. Or someone that will love me like he does.

Good, because that isn't love. It's not what I've seen. It's not like the stories tell it as.

~~~~~~~~

A/n: Zee End 😌❤️

[minkieater]

ONE ➺ the city as a junior at NYU, you just landed your dream internship. you didn't think a shot at your career would come with secrets, mistakes, and drama... at what age do you really start to grow up? w. alcohol consumption, relationship issues, a bunch of fucked up college kids doing fucked up college kid shit MDNI 18+ wc. ~12k

it's that time - my series is here!! my babies!! my friends!! hope everyone enjoys, all of our friends from luck, carousel, and three fates are here!

♩— the city, the 1975  “yeah, you wanna find love then you know where the city is.”

after five long hours of drowning in some sort of painful claustrophobia you finally peeled your headphones off your ears, immediately taking a hand up to your ear to soothe your cartilage piercings that still haven’t healed after years of having them. 

past eleven, it was far later than when you should’ve left. you told yourself you’d only spend an hour in the studio tonight, but that thought was long gone after the first hour of being in the leather chair, especially after the first frustrating ten listens of your most recent project. with a tch you rip your hard drive out of the system and pack up, with all intentions of heading out to catch the train back to your apartment across manhattan.

11:21 pm wooyo: come out of your cave and come to prince wooyo: its friday

you yawn, rubbing your eyes vigorously — you need to invest in a pair of blue light glasses. pulling your bag over your shoulder, you respond with a quick ‘be there in 20’.

as you turn to pull the door open, someone else opens it from the other side, “oh shit, my bad.”

a small sound of shock left your lips, feet nearly leaving the ground in panic. your eyes cross the possible perpetrator, the man is massive and his voice is deep. you froze for a moment, arm still held out in front of you to open the door, stuck somewhere between fight or flight. you snap it back to join your other hand in holding the strap that hugged your shoulder. 

“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles, ring-clad fingers jutting out in apology, “i didn’t think anyone else would be here this late.” you almost shudder at the deep rasp to his voice, eyes shifting to his oversized hoodie, baseball cap tucked under the hood, paired with baggy jeans that overflowed his seemingly new sneakers. 

“i was just leaving anyway,” you try to sound nonchalant but your voice gives you away, sounding quiet, small and embarrassed. your whole face feels hot as you maneuver around him and out the door, basically running down the dimly lit hallway. 

as you stepped out of the double doors of your school’s recording studios, you gave yourself a moment, head dropping backward. staring into the starless sky, you take a deep, controlled breath. you let the air fill your lungs, let it slow your heart rate, panic gradually leaving you with every exhale. when you needed an escape, a moment to yourself, something to ground you when your mind felt too much to handle, you could always count on staring up at new york city’s perpetually void sky. 

you shouldn’t find comfort in decades of pollution masking the stars, something you missed so much from home, maybe the thing you missed most. but that could be the comfort in it, something so different, still feeling so new after living in the city for two years. change is what you craved, what you needed, it’s why you chose to go to NYU in the first place. coming from a small town in the midwest, you knew early that your dream of being a music producer couldn’t happen there. you’ve known that since you were fifteen, when you made the plan to move to the city of dreams in the first place. 

but yet in times like these, when you need a moment of staring up at the sky, you miss the stars staring back down at you. 

you shake your head and get to walking — the walk would be more like 25 rather than 20, but knowing wooyoung, he wouldn’t see your text for another 15 anyhow. you pulled your bag a bit tighter on your shoulders and kept the headphones off for your walk, giving your ears a much needed break. 

“there she is!” wooyoung’s voice is booming, louder than the heavy music the bar is playing, and yunho waves over to you from beside him. he hands you a beer as you sit with the two, hoping to take the edge off the last five hours, but all you can think of is the project you left unfinished. 

“…you’re working on your senior thesis already?” wooyoung’s eyebrows are raised, gaping at yunho, “the semester’s barely started!” 

“do you know how long it’ll take me to research?” yunho responds, bringing his bottle up to his lips, “i’m studying how the internet has changed the music industry, i need to start now.”

“you both are so dedicated,” wooyoung’s words spill out in a whine as his hands cover his face, “i still don’t even know if i really want to major in film.” 

“you have plenty of time to figure your shit out, woo,” you smile, patting his shoulder. you swear wooyoung has been the same carefree, partying college boy since he walked into his dorm on the first day. like yunho, he’s been dragging you out of your books and your projects to live a little since you met freshman year.

“what had you trapped all night?” yunho turns his attention to you. the bar stool is uncomfortable under you, making you shift your legs up to the higher bar, “another project?” 

you huff out a sigh, “for my EMP class.” 

“ah, EMP,” yunho nods and flips his phone face up, checking his notifications, “oh shit, joong and mingi are stopping by.”

you raise an eyebrow and wooyoung smiles, “damn, i haven’t seen them since that one night at jeongin’s!” 

“who are these people again?” you question, fingers mindlessly peeling at the label on your beer bottle, watching the tattoos littering your fingers stretch under the movement. 

“they’ve only been on the roof a few times i think, they know chan,” wooyoung nods like you should know this already. you typically did know almost everyone who came to your boyfriend’s infamous rooftop parties, but it makes sense for one or two people to slip past you every now and then. they usually end up being friends of your boyfriend’s three roommates, chan, felix, and seungmin.

“they’re both in the same major as you. i would’ve thought that you’ve had classes together, but they’re older than you, i guess,” yunho shrugs.

“you’re older than me,” you counter with a look to prove it, bringing your beer to your lips.

the three of you met in your freshman year, taking the same film scoring sound design class, where somehow your degrees overlapped. where you went to study music technology, wooyoung, a junior like you, studied film production, and yunho, a senior, studied music history. 

minutes later wooyoung is waving over two guys you’ve never seen before, a tall one and another shorter one. your eyes squint in focus before they nearly burst out of your head in shock. realization hits you and your body burns in embarrassment, your heart becoming alarmingly loud in your chest. 

they stop at the bar and you quickly explain your situation with the tall one to your friends. wooyoung’s head leans back as a fit of laughter consumes him and yunho’s signature smile that only appears at someone else’s expense comes into view.

“that’s right,” yunho nods in remembrance, “you both are always cooped up in that damn studio, you sure you’ve never met him before?” 

you quickly shake your head as you notice them approaching, pushing your discomfort to the back of your head, trying to seem like you haven’t noticed their arrival.

“god, this place never changes,” the smaller one is shaking his head as the two of them stand around the table, setting his drink down on the stained wood.

“that’s it’s charm,” yunho responds as he raises his hand, “how you been joong?” 

they all take turns dapping each other up as you sit quietly, observing, until the two pairs of eyes turn to you. the taller one introduces himself as mingi, the smaller one hongjoong. 

“hey, didn’t i just see you?” mingi’s eyebrows furrow as if his eyes were tricking him, “you go to NYU right?” his finger points to you, one of his eyebrows lifting in question. wooyoung and yunho immediately turn to you, amusement written all over their faces.

you could feel the heat from the tips of your ears as you nod, “ki, i’m a junior, music tech major.” 

“no way! we’re tech majors too,” he smiles, pulling his beer to his lips and turning back to yunho, “yun, how’s the thesis been?” 

the rest of the night was spent with you mainly being quiet, observing and listening to them converse. you’d only asked a few questions, added input when you felt necessary, and laughed when the situation called for it. your discomfort from earlier eased to some degree by the end of the night, but you felt like the majority of your time at prince was spent on auto-pilot.

mingi and hongjoong shared little about themselves, but you picked up on a few things throughout the night. they’re both seniors at NYU, studying music technology like you. they’ve also been interning for the same record label since the end of their junior year, both hoping to land a permanent position at the label before the end of their senior year. 

yunho and mingi have been friends since they were young, both attending the same high school and moving to new york city just after they graduated. hongjoong is born and raised in new york, you could tell as much from his accent, but met mingi his freshman year in one of their classes and they’ve been close since. 

where mingi was more quiet and reserved, hongjoong was talkative, easily dominating the conversation. he was loud about it, too. with eyeliner, a shaggy mullet and multiple ear piercings, hongjoong seemed anything but sweet off first glance. but the second he smiled paired with the sweet, melodious laugh that left his lips, you knew his appearance had nothing to do with his personality. something you should know by now in the creative department of NYU.

by the end of the night your social battery was below zero. your goodbyes to your new and old friends were quick, exhausted from your hours spent in the studio and the beers did nothing but tire you more. by the time you were back in your apartment, another 20 minute walk from prince, you’d hoped and prayed your roommate was sound asleep. you couldn’t bear another word out of your mouth.

in the shower you were playing the night back in your head like a movie, and you swore the weight of uneasiness didn’t fully leave you until you were settled in bed. trying to distract yourself by turning on the tv, your mind drifts once more, but instead of your project it was your new acquaintances, your seniors, two people you could learn so much from… it didn’t take long for your brain to empty itself and sleep to consume you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“are you coming this friday?” your boyfriend asks, and you can hear the impatience in his voice, no doubt he’s feeling neglected after your busy week. 

“i don’t think so, i still have so much to do on this fucking song. it’s missing something still and i can’t figure it out,” you huff, running a hand through your hair. 

“that’s okay, i understand, what about tonight? you gonna be there late?” 

“i think so, i’m sorry, i’m so stressed i think i’m just gonna go home and crash.” 

“please, baby? every night this week you’ve been there and you’re always too tired to come over after,” he’s whining over the phone now, and your eye literally twitches as he speaks.

“jeongin, i need to get this done, i don’t know what else to tell you,” you snap as your fingers come up to the bridge of your nose, placing your elbow on the desk, “you have a key to my place, use it.” 

“is riley home? i don’t want to just show up unannounced, what if san’s there?”

you sigh, “we’ve been together for two years innie, and she’s known you longer than i have. i’m sure she’ll be happy to see you even if san is there. i’m almost done, i’ll be home soon, okay?” you lean back in the chair, eyes closing, bringing your free hand to rub at your mascara-less eyes. 

“okay! i’ll pick us up something to eat, what do you want?” your eyebrows furrow in frustration and you open your eyes to look down at the monitor again. all you can see is unfinished work, and your stress level goes through the roof. 

you take the phone off your ear and let a breath of frustration out before answering, “whatever you want. i’ll see you soon, love you,” you waited for him to say it back before you hung up the phone. you set it face down on the desk, bringing your headphones back over your ears, planning to finish up some last tweaks before you went back home for the night. 

the first day of your freshman year you walked into your cramped dorm room and were met with the human embodiment of new york. she was the perfect introduction to the city, the smallest yet loudest bundle of sunshine you’d ever encountered, a born and raised city girl. riley was a few inches over five feet, kind pale eyes and long dark waves framing her pretty face. lucky for you, she came with a built in friend group. 

jeongin, felix, chan, and seungmin, four guys who had moved to the city right after they graduated high school. the four of them had met riley randomly at a rock concert over the summer,  enamored by the fact that she’s a local and also majoring in theatre at NYU in the fall. they were quick to friendship, riley and the four boys, until you were introduced. 

from the first conversation you had with the four, your friendship fell right into place. it felt like you had known them your whole life. all four of them were funny, kind, accepting, and the best of all, gorgeous. the first time you saw jeongin you could attest that love at first sight is a real phenomenon. it didn’t take long after you guys had met for you to start dating, he was something out of your dreams. kind, respectful, funny, doting, he checked off every box on your 18 year old list. 

for being together nearly two years, at this point he is a true extension of you. you lived at his place half the time, you were always out in the city together, in the middle of washington square park on picnic dates, your relationship was movie-esque. everyone who knew you, knew jeongin, and vice versa. 

you didn’t hear anyone come in, and you sure as hell didn’t expect anyone to interrupt your focus as you felt a small tap on your shoulder. ripping your headphones off isn’t an understatement as you shriek, terror and surprise rushing through you like electricity. 

he can’t help but engulf himself in a fit of laughter while your eyebrows disappear into your hairline, your mouth agape as you clutch your thrashing heart over your hoodie. 

“mingi! jesus christ, are you gonna scare the shit out of me every time you’re here?” you bark out, breath heavy and unstable, irritation clear in your voice.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i knocked but you didn’t hear. didn’t know how else to interrupt,” he counters, still smiling, waving his hands in apology.

“did you not see the red light for in use outside the door?” you ignore the amused smile across his face, still clutching your heart as if it’d burst out of your chest if you didn’t. 

“i did, i took a peek to see if you’d be in here again,” he shrugs, “it’s late and you’re in the same room as the other day, i was curious.”

your expression softens, and you ignore the sweat that was quick to form in your palms. “oh,” you mutter, so quiet it was almost inaudible, “well here i am.” 

a small smile sits on his face as he moves closer, peering over your shoulder to look at the monitor, “what’s this?”

“a project for my EMP class, did you take it?” you shift your focus to your monitor again, joining him in overlooking your project.

he nods and turns to pull up another chair from beside the desk, “last year, what professor?” 

you curse your cheeks as they heat up on their own, “lee.” 

he makes a disappointed face, his lips thinning into a line, “that’s unfortunate.” he nods his chin to the monitor, “let me hear what you’ve got.” 

“it’s not even close to being finished,” you argue, the familiar heat at the tips of your ears joining your cheeks in competition of which can expose your embarrassment first. 

he shakes his head, “don’t care.” not even entertaining your argument, he reaches for the headphones that are placed around your neck. 

you clutch onto them quickly and he halts his movement, looking up at you, startled at your reflex. “damn, give me a second,” you say with a quick laugh, pulling the headphones from around your neck and handing them to him.

you press play and his head nods to the beat as he listens, his eyebrows furrowed again, this time in focus. you take a moment to really take in his appearance — full lips, short, black and blonde ruffled up hair, a perfectly straight nose… you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. 

he takes the headphones off as the song finishes, snapping you back to reality. “it still needs some tweaks but it’s good, you’re probably at a B minus right now.”

your jaw drops, “tweaks? a B minus?”

he laughs, “i thought you said it wasn’t even close to being done yet? here, let me help,” he places a headphone up to his ear opposite of the side you’re sitting on, pressing buttons on the keyboard. “i like the synths, very atmospheric, but you’re missing depth,” he sucks a breath in through his teeth, “a deeper bass line, it needs to be more intense.” 

he plays with your song for some time, listening and nodding his head to the beat. you stare at him in his element with damn near stars in your eyes— your eyebrows are raised, mouth hung slightly open, you’re nothing short of in awe at this essentially random man, your senior who interns at a record label, helping you with your project. 

he makes a finishing nod as he hands your headphones back to you, ushering you to listen. his small tweaks changed your song entirely, no shot you weren’t getting an A now.

“lee is big on emotion, layering and harmonies and all that,” he says as you pull the headphone off your ear. 

you start, “mingi, i-“

he leans back, arms folded behind his head with a cocky smile, “i know, i know, you can’t thank me enough, i’m really good at what i do, thank you very much,” he’s joking when he cuts you off, but it’s so true it’s nauseating. he did in 20 minutes what would’ve taken you 2 days, the raw talent exuding off of him only makes you more curious.

you can appreciate the love he has for his craft, the craft you share. he seems to love it enough that he can pick apart your creation and put it back together better than you did in the first place. it makes you want to pick his brain, find out why he’s here, why he loves music, what he grew up listening to. 

“i was actually going to say undo everything you just did because it sounds like dog shit,” you deadpan, wiping the cocky smile right off his face, making the corners of your mouth lift up in amusement.

“that hurt my feelings,” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest instead.

you giggle, “can’t let you get too cocky.”

he chuckles, patting his thighs before he stands, “you still have to work on your use of effects, create more of a sense of urgency in the bridge. i’d say now you’re at an A minus though, couple more tweaks and you’re golden.” 

you nod, sitting up a bit straighter, “thank you, that was actually a huge help. i’ve been at this for almost a week now.” 

he heads toward the door and your brain is scrambling trying to figure out a way to get him to stay, or at least come back again soon. 

“you coming to chan’s this friday?” he beats you to it as he opens the door, peeking at you over his shoulder. 

you snap your head up at that, “uh, yeah, i’ll be there.”

the corners of his mouth turn up in a wide smile, “sweet, ill see you there then.” 

“thanks again!” heat rises to your cheeks as soon as the door shuts —  your palm slaps your forehead. at least jeongin will be happy that you’re coming friday. 

shit, jeongin! you already forgot about dinner. you quickly stood and yanked your hard drive out, quickly packing up your backpack to run to the subway station. you felt lighter right now than you had in a week, a newfound optimism taking over. 

you felt closer to finishing your project instead of being in the middle of it, you’re on more of a friendly basis with someone whom you share your craft, plus he’s more talented and experienced than you in it … it’s unknown territory for you since you didn’t have many friends in your major. 

your leg bounced the entire train ride home with a silly smile on your face, high off the adrenaline rush from the breakthrough. the train was surprisingly not packed, only a couple of people sharing the same car as you. it’s not usual for any subway car to be somewhat unoccupied, let alone peaceful in new york city. 

the adrenaline died down a fair amount in your walk from the station to your apartment, replaced with the comfort of your boyfriend and best friend waiting for you upstairs. 

the scent of oregano and fresh bread met you in the staircase, meaning pizza was waiting for you in the kitchen. as you made your way inside your apartment you found riley, san and jeongin standing around the counter in the midst of conversation. you set your backpack down on the table to signal your arrival and the three turn their attention to you. 

“you’re finally home! what’s got you cheesing so hard?” riley asks, handing you a plate as you turn the corner to grab a piece of pizza. 

jeongin kisses your cheek twice as you open the box, “feeling better about the song?” 

“yeah, i had a major breakthrough, actually,” that same silly smile is still plastered across your face as you pull a piece out onto your plate. 

riley’s eyes thin, shooting you a questioning look as she takes a bite of her slice. she’s always been able to see through you, read between the lines, hear what you weren’t saying, see the mask you wore when you were hiding your feelings like it was physically there.

“then the pizza is celebratory, i just so happened to get your favorite kind from your favorite place,” jeongin smiles, bumping his hip with yours as you take a huge bite of the thankfully still hot pizza. pepperoni has always been your favorite, but the first time you had any pizza in new york your life changed for the better. everything in new york is better than it is at home.

you thank him the best you can with your mouth full, then give him a close lipped smile, hiding the food in your mouth. 

“we were just talking about the roof on friday,” riley starts, leaning against san’s sturdy build that impressed you every time you saw it, “you feel like going?” 

you pause for a moment remembering your promise to mingi, “i actually can now that i’m pretty much done with the song.”

“yes!” jeongin’s fists shoot for the sky, wide smile on his face, “it’s supposed to be a big one, chan got the whole soccer club to come.”

“just the club? not the violets?” san perked up, eyebrows raised in question.

“the violets are probably all busy, soccer season and football season already started,” riley waves her hand, “the clubs aren’t that serious.” 

“i think they’d be offended if they heard you say their season isn’t serious, baby,” san’s gaze turned downward to riley, a sparkle in his eyes that was too bright for two people just sleeping with each other. you made a mental note to unpack that, just as you had to discuss the night you had. 

“maybe if they didn’t get hammered on a random rooftop mid-season i'd be more likely to consider them serious,” riley’s hands lifted to her shoulders, eyebrows lifted in an oh well expression. 

“touché,” san responded through a yawn, voice sounding breathy and relaxed. riley immediately yawned after him, a somnolent sound paired with stretching her arms. 

riley and san shared a mirrored look, seeming to read each other’s minds without verbally saying a thing. 

“we’re gonna head to bed, goodnight,” riley announces and turns for the hallway without a second glance, san bids you a small wave goodnight behind her. 

you and jeongin both call goodnight after them and he turns to you, moving a stray hair off of your face, “i’ve missed you.” 

“missed you too,” you sigh, “‘m sorry i snapped at you earlier,” you set your plate down and lean into his front, laying your head on his shoulder with your eyes closed. exhaustion hits you as soon as your eyelids shut, you could fall asleep on his shoulder if you needed to. his hands immediately find purchase on your hips, giving them a squeeze.

“don’t apologize baby, you’ve been so stressed and working so hard,” he kissed the side of your head, pulling up a hand to scratch at your scalp, “gonna be the best producer in all of new york.” you groan in appreciation. you should’ve had him here days ago. that’s always been his thing — the magic touch. 

where riley could see through you, practically hear your thoughts and feelings exactly for what they were, jeongin could feel them. with a hand in your hair or kiss to the cheek, he could feel what you were feeling. it was your favorite thing about him, his ability to know what you needed and help you through it without you having to ask. 

“you tired?” he asks, and you lift your head to look at him, then shook your head quickly. he smiles at your sleepy eyes, and like always, he knew what you wanted. he brought his hands to your hips again to twist your back against the counter, kissing you softly at first. he slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring until you brought your hands to his hair and tugged, silently begging for more. he swiftly slid the pizza box across the counter and picked you up by the backs of your thighs, placing you on the countertop without breaking the kiss. 

“mm, maybe i am tired, we should head to bed,” you say between kisses, arms placed around his neck. 

he groans into his words, “yeah, lots of sleeping, we should do that,” you’re both smiling into the kiss, and you squeal as his hands scoop under your ass, picking you up to bring you to your room. sleep could come later, right now you just wanted him.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

friday comes faster than you thought it would. your classes breezed by, your song finally finished and turned in, and you were impatiently waiting for tonight. normally you aren’t as excited for the rooftop parties your boyfriend and his roommates threw, they were a dime a dozen, but the anticipation for tonight has been at the front of your mind all week. 

“you dressed up? i thought we were dressing cozy like we always do!” riley stands at your doorway, hands at her sides with her eyebrows furrowed. she had on ripped jeans, an oversized hoodie, and a pair of white sneakers. her hair was tied up in a bun, glasses sitting on her nose. 

you looked down at your bodysuit, jeans and sandals, and then looked back up to her, “this is somewhat cozy!”

“i’m putting on a different shirt and doing my hair,” she states and leaves your room in a hurry, and you look in the mirror at your side. you did your hair and makeup, something you only do once in a while for jeongin’s parties. you’d usually be in a different version of riley’s exact outfit. 

“i guess i did dress up,” you mumble to yourself and shrug, your small smile returning on your lips. you were in a good mood, actually having enough energy to put effort into getting ready, so your appearance reflected that. 

you made your way to the kitchen to pour a couple shots for you and your roommate, getting the pregame started. music blasted throughout your apartment, thanks to the surround sound stereo system you installed with the help of riley and jeongin. 

more so you got frustrated trying to install them yourself and made jeongin do most of it while riley watched anxiously.

you took the first shot back quick, needing to start easing your nerves before heading out for the night. jeongin’s parties were famously never small, with the help of his three roommates they were friends with half of NYU’s campus. from the arts department to the finance bros, they knew everyone, and everyone knew them. even the wealthiest students that attended NYU knew at least one out of the four. living in a huge apartment in soho, thanks to seungmin’s father paying half their rent each month, they had the luxury of their own private rooftop.

some of your best memories of the past two years have been on that rooftop… huge parties, small get-togethers, nights between you and jeongin only. you would prefer that to a random frat party any day. even in the winter time, with tents and heaters, you’d still be on that rooftop until all hours of the night. but as you’ve grown older, classes have become harder, your workload more intense, nights on that rooftop have become less of a common occurrence. you think that’s why your stomach is bubbling up with tension, you don’t have the comfort of knowing you were there just the other day. it’s been long enough to where you feel like just someone showing up rather than the host’s girlfriend of two years walking around the rooftop like she owns it.

“okay, i’m ready now — oh no, you poured shots?” riley pouts, setting her hands down on the counter.  now she wore a black bodysuit, her dark hair in soft curls around her face. you know by now that her resolve is weak despite her complaints, so you slide the two shot glasses toward her. 

“to riley getting laid tonight!” you yell as you lift up your shot glass, and she lets out a quick laugh before clicking her glass with yours and shooting it back. 

“why tonight? i’ve been fucking san for months,” she says, her face scrunching up in disgust from the taste of the vodka. 

“by chan, ri,” you announce in a tone that this information was obvious, smiling like a maniac at your roommate. this makes her eyes roll, heat rising to her cheeks. “come on, it’s been years of mutual pining between the two of you, i don’t understand why it’s not happening when it’s clearly meant to!” 

“please,” she waves a hand and picks up her phone, “he literally has a girlfriend, ki. we keep having the same conversation, it’ll happen when it’s meant to.” 

you tap your second shot glass on the table to alert her to take her second shot as well. she grabs onto the top of the glass and pauses for a second, “maybe i really should stop sleeping with san.” 

“to riley discontinuing her meaningless sex relationship and pursuing true love!” you raise your shot glass again and she clinks hers with yours, an emotion you can’t read in her eyes before she takes it back. 

“meaningless sex is crazy,” she lets out a breath of air after the shot, “you know it’s more than that, we just talked about this.” 

you grab your phone off the charger and slip it into your purse, “i also know you’re in love with chan, we just talked about that, too. no more meaningless sex, but instead sex with love behind it.”

she’s smiling as she lifts up her phone again, “and what about you, huh? you’re about to see your new boyfriend at your actual boyfriend’s party.” 

your eyes snap up, jaw immediately dropping with a gasp. you filled her in on what happened in the studio the other night, she hasn't let you rest for a minute because of it. “don’t even joke like that, it’s not like that and you know it.” 

“just like it’s not just meaningless sex with san and i,” she sings, “i’m kidding, but i can’t help but connect the dots and i do feel like maybe you’re a little excited to see him again,” she puts her fingers up in a pinch, squinting an eye. 

you respond with your lips pursed, your eyes lowered to slits. 

“in a completely platonic and innocent way!” her hands go up in defense instead. 

“am i excited for the chance to talk to someone older than me with more experience in my major, who’s really talented and can hopefully give me tips to get me further in my career? yes, of course i am,” you run a hand through your hair with a huff of air, “it just so happens that he’s a man.” 

“who’s six feet tall and probably sexy.”

“riley!”

“i’m sorry! let’s go, uber’s here.”

the rooftop is just how you left it. a mass of bodies standing, talking, drinking, maybe even dancing to the song playing through the speakers. fairy lights still hang over the roof, intertwined in a way that looks intentional, but you still aren’t sure if it is. the bar is in the same place, they got a dj, nothing has changed at all and it helps to put you at ease. along with the vodka you drank before you left. 

“no way! riley and kiki!?” you hear him before you see him, a slightly taller sunshine maneuvering his way towards you and your smaller sunshine. 

“lixie!” riley exclaims, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug as he approaches you, “i’ve missed you! how’s the foot?”

“honestly better now, just waiting on clearance from the doctor before i can start performing again,” he smiles as he sticks his leg out, lifting his pant leg and twisting his ankle around to show you it’s mobility. the smile on his face is infectious, it immediately makes you smile, too. 

“there she is,” you feel hands around your waist and a pair of plump lips pressed to your cheek, “you look so fucking beautiful and i haven’t even seen your face yet.” 

you turn around and press your lips to jeongin’s, smiling into it, “i felt like dressing up.” 

“and i feel like taking it off of you,” he whispers into your ear, making a hand go over your mouth as you choke out a giggle. his messy curls lay wispy across his forehead, the familiar copper flips peeking out from the nape of his neck. he was in a big t-shirt, baggy jeans and sneakers, your favorite look on him after just plain sweats. 

“at least get me a drink first,” you licked your lips, tasting the cheap beer from when you kissed him. it was usually like this between you two, flirting like you had just started dating yesterday, the off days where you were stressed and short tempered were few and far between. 

“you’re coming with me, i want you to meet some people,” he grabs your hand and starts for the crowd of people. you give riley and felix a wave behind you, jeongin not giving you any time for small talk as he starts pulling you towards the bar.

you passed faces you recognized, giving small waves and ‘hey!’s as you followed behind him. you’ll get to socializing with everyone you know later. 

at the back end of the rooftop was a stand up bar, one seungmin’s dad gifted to them without a doubt. everyone had the option to bring their own alcohol, which a lot of people did, but seungmin loved the classy feeling of having an almost full bar at his parties. it was mainly his name that was passed around for the legendary parties, so he had to live up to expectations. 

“hey jinnie,” you smile as you approach the bar, completely ignoring the line that was formed in front of it. still hand in hand with jeongin, no one batted an eye. it’s one thing to have a bar at a college party, but to have a bartender comfortable serving alcohol without showing ID? impossible to find. hyunjin, on the other hand, has never minded for a moment — he actually offered. with compensation, of course. 

“hey keeks! haven’t seen you in a hot minute, how’ve you been?” his smile is wide when he notices you, still shaking the drink he was currently making. 

“busy as hell, what about you? how’s the portfolio?” you unlace your hand with jeongin’s and lean on the side of the bar, trying not to let his actions sway your easily distracted mind. 

“i’ve been really good! super busy too, still working on it,” he hands the finished drink to the girl standing at the bar, and she hands him a 20 while batting her eyelashes. he winks back and then turns to you, “you want a beer or a cocktail?” 

“cocktail please, something tequila. i’m in the mood to chat,” you smile and it makes him laugh, already pulling the casamigos from the rack. 

“whatever you say, princess,” this has always been the relationship between you and hyunjin since before you and jeongin had started dating. the shameless flirting, the easy conversation, the nicknames, you’ve thanked god jeongin isn’t the jealous type plenty of times. your drink is handed to you in moments, jeongin passing his friend a bill you couldn’t see. you thanked hyunjin for the drink and jeongin for tipping him, and your boyfriend pulled you by the wrist once more.

“where are we going?” you ask, keeping your drink level as you make your way through the crowd. you try to manage a sip, your face scrunching up from the sour taste. tequila and sour mix was an odd one of your favorites, but the first sip is always the worst before it gets better. 

“i just met a couple of chan’s friends, i was talking with them right before you got here, they’re cool. they’re in the same major as you,” he yells over the loud music now that you’re back in the crowd, and you nod despite him not being able to see you.

you make your way over to the smoking corner, one of the cozier areas that you friend group seemed to naturally go towards every time you were here. the music was still loud but it seemed somewhat quieter in the corner, maybe because it was next to the edge of the rooftop and there was nothing but the city around and beneath, you could hear traffic and the business of new york, making it seem less deafening. there were couches, cushioned chairs, tiki torches, it made the space the most inviting spot on the rooftop.

“hey keeks!” chan stood up to hug you, wrapping his huge arms around your back, “feels like i haven’t seen you in ages, you haven’t been by the loft. what’s up?” 

“i know, i’ve been busy as shit,” you chuckle as he lets go, sitting back down, “how about you?”

“the same, really. but hey, nothing new is nothing bad, right?” his hands go up, his eyebrows raised in amusement. you glance down to the couch, han was sitting with one leg over minho’s, fully relaxed into the cushions. you gave them a smile in greeting, they were close friends of the four roommates, close friends of yours. you give chan a nod and the rest a wave before jeongin grabs your hand again. 

“ki, this is who i wanted you to meet!” you turned away from chan, and before your boyfriend were two people you had definitely met before, “mingi and hongjoong.”

“oh shit, hey guys,” your cheeks immediately heat up as you give them a small wave, mouth twisting to a tight lipped smile. 

“i thought your name sounded familiar!” hongjoong’s finger points, his eyebrows perked up in surprise. his mullet was messy, his piercings shining under the moonlight. he had on an oversized distressed sweater, a long pair of denim shorts, paired with some old boots. does he just permanently look like a rockstar?

“sick, you know each other already?” jeongin asks, a bright smile on his face. 

“yeah, we met last week at prince when i was out with wooyo and yunho,” you nod, playing with the straw in your drink. 

“how’d the song come out, ki? you add in what i told you to?” mingi asks, and you gave him a one over. he wore a tight black tee paired with white and black jeans, a black baseball cap and plenty of jewelry. 

you nod, “got an A plus, thank you very much!” you sip your drink, pretending you didn’t feel the sweat forming in your palms, telling yourself it’s just the condensation from your glass. 

jeongin looks at you with an eyebrow raised, clearly missing a key point from the conversation, “the night i had the breakthrough, mingi listened to my song and told me what i needed to fix. he’s why i finished it so quickly.” 

“ah,” is all he said with a slow nod, and you couldn’t fight the uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine. 

“even if i didn’t, you still would’ve gotten a good grade, you didn’t need my help,” he shakes his hand at you, “i’ve actually been talking to joong about it, next time you’re in the studio you have to let us come by and listen to it.” 

“seriously? i mean- yeah, but why?” your eyebrows furrow and you shift your weight to one leg. 

“it’s been stuck in my head, i was thinking it’d be even better with vocals over it,” he shrugs, taking a swig of his beer. 

“i catch him humming to it all the time. during class, at work, at the bar,” hongjoong laughs before he sniffs, running the back of his hand over his nostrils, “i feel like i need to hear it so i can get it out of my head.” 

you laugh along with him, “you can definitely come by, i’ll probably be in there tomorrow working on my own stuff. same studio,” you tip your chin up at mingi and he nods back in understanding. 

jeongin’s hand makes its way to your waist, “i’m gonna go find felix and ri, i’ll be back.” you nod and give him a quick kiss, and he goes right back into the crowd. 

“i didn’t know you and jeongin were together,” mingi starts, his eyes that were following jeongin disappear into the crowd come back to meet yours.

“almost two years now,” you say with a smile, then take another sip of your drink. the words feel sour coming out of your mouth, like you didn’t want to tell him that. 

“two yea- aren’t you a junior?” hongjoong interrupted, pointing your way again, looking nothing short of flabbergasted.

“we met our freshman year, been together since,” you confirmed with an uncomfortable chuckle, taking another sip of your drink. you hated that you selfishly wanted to change the subject. 

“cute,” mingi mutters before his beer touches his lips again, eyes boring holes into yours. 

“ki!” you hear over your shoulder, making you whip around to yunho approaching you from behind, his girlfriend close behind him. you’d never been more grateful for anything in your life. 

“hey guys,” you smile and hug them both quickly, giving yunho a moment to greet everyone in the corner before he takes the spot next to you. 

“what’d i miss? i just saw felix and riley back there,” his hands are in his pockets, a soft close-mouthed smile sitting on his face.

“nothing at all, we were waiting for you to get the party started,” you scrunch your nose at your own joke and yunho replies with a belly laugh, shaking his head.

“yun, can we get drinks?” ivy asked, tugging on yunho’s sleeve. blonde and blue eyed, small girl, she was always dressed so pretty. always in a dress or a skirt, you don’t know if you’ve ever seen her in a pair of pants, not even when you all went out for a night of bowling in brooklyn.

they’d been together for longer than yourself and jeongin, the four of you often went out on double dates when you first became friends with yunho. their relationships mirrored your own, a match made in heaven, two people born to be with each other.

“you guys are empty too?,” mingi asks, asking the three of you but keeping his gaze focused on your empty glass, gaining your attention. “let’s go get another.” 

he starts for the crowd with you following close behind until it starts to get dense, people naturally clinging closer to one another the closer they got to the dj. changbin always insists he runs the music at these parties, there’s nothing he loves more than riling up a crowd with the remixes he and han make. he also couldn’t complain about the girls that hang around the booth. mingi turns his head around and notices you lagging behind, offering a hand so you don't get lost in the crowd. 

you took it, and the first thing you noticed was how small your hand is in comparison to his. it fit so nicely in his palm, fingers wrapped around the top of his hand. you blame the tequila for the heat that spread into your chest. 

as you neared the line for the bar you chose to not use your friendship with hyunjin to get you up to the front, opting to take your time at the back of the line instead. you noticed yunho and ivy didn’t make it to the line behind you and you couldn’t help but be happy about it.

“so,” he starts and a pause follows, making you both giggle, “i assume you’re at all of these parties, right?” 

his question makes you tilt your head, “i’m 95% sure that question was a slightly different version of ‘you come here often?’”

he turns around in embarrassment, a hand covering his mouth, pretending he didn’t know who you were. he turns back around, a silly smile sitting on those pretty lips of his and you swear there’s a pink hue to his cheeks, “it might’ve been.” 

“then to that, i’ll say i used to come a lot more, but with school getting so crazy i haven’t been as much,” you shrug and he nods, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

you make small talk as the line moves closer and you swear there’s tension between the two of you. it could be the buzz you’re nursing because the small talk flows, but it feels like there’s something that both of you want to say and neither of you are saying it. 

“you’re cheating on me with someone else now too?” hyunjin pouts as you finally approach the bar.

“i’m sorry baby, i didn’t mean to break it to you like this,” you reach for his hand over the bar and he pulls it away, looking at you with disappointment. 

“is it because he’s taller than me? i swear 2 or 3 inches isn’t that much,” he says with a fake sadness, already pulling the casamigos from the rack. 

“jinnie baby, 2 or 3 inches is a lot where it counts,” you put your hand over your heart, “i hope you can forgive me.” 

“i’ll think about it, princess,” he puts your drink on the bar, looking up to mingi who is confused yet amused, “miller right?” 

mingi nods and hyunjin cracks a can, mingi slipping him a bill during the transaction. they both do that guy nod at each other in thanks and hyunjin looks at you with fake sadness again, making you giggle. 

“what the hell?” is all mingi says as you walk back towards the crowd, both walking a lot slower. 

“that’s hyunjin, one of my friends. we always play like that,” you shrug, “what, you thought he was serious?” 

“at first, well for a second there yeah,” he admits, making you laugh, “i don’t know what to expect with you. here i thought i met a really pretty girl who shares the same interests as me, has the same humor as me, then i find out she’s been in a two year long relationship. i guess i don’t really know that much about you.” 

you stop in your tracks and look up to him in surprise, eyes wide and lips parted. you blink a couple times, scrambling to find something to say.

“you think i’m pretty?” you ask, a serious look on your face before your lips twitch upward. he nudges your shoulder with a shut up making you giggle. 

“what do you want to know?” you ask, and you’re both standing still, nursing your drinks. 

“i want to know a lot of things, but unfortunately i think our time is up,” his eyes look past you and you turn around, jeongin approaching.

“hey guys,” he kisses your cheek and tilts his head up to nod at mingi, “i caught riley and chan flirting!” 

you gasp, “no shot, san is here.” 

he nods again, success written all over his face, “i think san was in our corner while they were talking.” 

you dapped up your boyfriend, “i consider that a step forward, i’ll stay here if she takes him home tonight.” 

“you’re staying here anyway,” he looks at you like you should know that already then leans closer to your ear, “i didn’t forget about what i said earlier.” 

you shush him, your cheeks burning, from what he said or the fact that he said it with the other man standing behind you, you weren’t sure.  

“i’m gonna head back over to where we were,” mingi says from behind you, and you turn around to give him a smile and a nod. jeongin gives him a cheesy thumbs up and you can’t help but want to pull his hand back down to his side, second-hand embarrassment forcing heat to rise to your cheeks again. you’d usually find that funny, maybe even a bit endearing.

“we should go too,” you murmur, this time you grabbed his wrist to follow mingi through the crowd. 

when you get back, all the seats are taken except for the spots san and minho left open, they had gone to get more drinks just as you got there. mingi and hongjoong still choose to stand, deep in conversation with yunho. you and jeongin sit apart, opposite sides of the area, and you try your hardest to listen to the conversation everyone was already in the midst of. you kept replaying the past half hour in your head while everyone around you was engulfed in discussion, burning the conversation with mingi into your memory so your buzzed brain didn’t forget it. as curious as you were about him he seemed to be the same towards you, which only made you more restless about getting to know him better. you caught yourself staring at him a few times throughout the night until he inevitably caught you, shooting a sly smirk your way. 

your eyes shoot to jeongin who was already looking at you, he’d noticed you’ve been lost in your thoughts for awhile now. he stood abruptly, straightening out his shirt.

“i’m tired,” he says nonchalantly, still looking to you. you couldn’t read him, did he catch that? the looks? is he actually tired? everyone looks up at him, surprised at his sudden revelation, “i’m gonna head to bed.”

“it’s only midnight, innie,” chan looks up from his lock screen, no doubt checking the time, “why so early?”

he shrugs, “i’m tired.” 

he waves goodnight to everyone and you sit stuck in your chair, unsure of where his head is at. do you follow him? do you stay here with everyone and enjoy the rest of the party? you hadn’t even said hi to the soccer club yet. 

as he starts to walk away, he doesn’t look back at you nor does he kiss you goodnight, and you have your answer. you stood up, swinging your purse over your shoulder and chug the rest of your drink. you needed the rest of the watered down tequila to ease your nerves, especially with not knowing where his head is. he may not be the jealous type, but he’s not stupid, either. 

“you’re going in, too?” riley asks, eyebrows furrowed with a pout on her lips.

“following my boyfriend into an empty house? absolutely,” you say jokingly, trying to play it off as something you two had planned. 

but as she always does, she lifts a brow, sensing your uneasiness despite your words. her eyes quickly darted to mingi and back to you so fast it was almost unnoticeable, and your lips tightened. she nods. 

“we on for wednesday?” yunho asks as you turn away, giving you a quick hug goodbye. 

“depends on my assignments for the week,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. 

“wooyoung will be pissed if you don’t,” he sings teasingly and you roll your eyes, turning your attention to mingi and hongjoong.

“good to see you guys again,” you smile, waving to them both. 

“we’ll see you tomorrow?” hongjoong asks, eyebrows raised. 

“i think so,” you nod, purposefully not confirming, then turn on your heel to walk through the crowd once more. 

you greet about twenty more people along the way, getting stuck in a few conversations before you finally stand before the door to the staircase. you take in a deep breath, not knowing what’s waiting for you on the other side. 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you nodded your head along to the beat, fingers tapping against the desk, mimicking every sound in the current project you had displayed across the monitor. you paused it, tweaking a harmony’s pitch, then pressed play again. 

you sighed as you sat back, taking off your headphones in the middle of the song, and stared up at the ceiling of the studio. you hadn’t seen him since friday, and he’s been occupying half of your mind since. it’s so wrong, you shouldn’t wish he’d walk through the door behind you, but you do. 

you couldn’t stop thinking about his necklaces, his rings, the hat he wore and the short waves peeking out of it, his nose, his lips… the list can go on and on. it’s so fucking wrong. your boyfriend was at his apartment, waiting for you to be done so you could join him. you spent the remainder of the weekend with him, half because you wanted to and half because you needed to. you needed mingi out of your head, and the only way to do that was to fill it with jeongin. 

you stare back at the screen, and your eyes squint. you can’t help but wonder what he’d think of the song, what input he’d have to improve it. you rubbed your eyes and groaned.

a knock at the door has your eyes wide and a gasp leaving your throat, your neck snapping behind you to catch who’s entering your studio space. the man of the hour waltzes inside so casually, as if he didn’t owe you rent for living in your mind the past 96 hours. 

“look who it is,” your smile is wide, bright eyes looking up at him as he makes his way in. 

“at least i didn’t scare you this time,” he’s already smiling too, excitement leaking out of both of you, “i finally caught you, you didn’t show on saturday.”

you take your headphones off, placing them on the desk, “my bad, i didn’t feel good all weekend. this is the first time i’ve been here in a few days,” a lie.

“all better now i hope?” he stands with the back of his legs against the desk, staring down at you, so aloof you can't read him. 

“for the most part,” you lean back in your chair, playing with your own rings, “i was hoping i’d see you, actually. i’m working on something else that i want your opinion on.” 

“hoping you’d see me? that doesn’t sound good,” that smirk you couldn’t stop thinking about finds its way to his face again, “don’t get yourself in trouble now.” 

you roll your eyes, “did your ears stop working or are you so narcissistic that that’s all you heard?” 

he chuckles to himself, pulling the chair that he sat in last time back over to the desk, “go for it.” 

you unplug your headphones this time, letting the song play out loud. you both nod your head, and you couldn’t help feeling vulnerable as your own personal project plays through the small studio. he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and you couldn’t read his expression. it seemed like focus, but you couldn’t pinpoint any pleasure or dislike. 

he pauses the song, looking dead at you, and you feel two feet tall in the leather chair, “have you applied anywhere for an internship?” 

you blink twice, not expecting the sudden question, “i was planning to look into it later this year.” 

“you need to start looking, you’re good at this shit,” he takes a breath, pressing play to finish the song. your whole body is hot, there’s no way you could pay attention to the rest of the song now. despite the discomfort from the sudden compliment, a surge of confidence rushes through you, twisting the vulnerability into a feeling of pride. 

you realized you haven't even heard anything he’s produced yet, and wonder why his opinion means so much to you. is it just because he’s older? more experienced? because he’s already working with a record label?

“i really fucking like this, ki. we need to get joong in here,” his voice rips you out of your thoughts, realizing he’s already looking at you, “do you mind if i text him to stop by?” 

you quickly shook your head, “not at all, no, tell him to come by,” you tuck your hair behind your ears, “thank you, but there’s nothing you want to add? no constructive criticism?” 

“well it’s not like this is for a class, right?” he asks and you quickly shake your head again, “the art you create is a reflection of you, it represents who you are. your talent, your passion, your personality. i can’t give criticism on something so personal.” 

you both blink at each other before he cracks a small smile, “that was corny, wasn’t it?” 

“no! it wasn’t corny at all, i just wasn’t expecting something so… poetic?” you untuck your hair, nervously fidgeting now, “i guess there’s a lot i don’t know about you either.” 

“well what do you want to know?” he asks, mimicking your words from the last time you two spoke. 

“everything,” you took a breath, “i want to know everything.” 

the next few hours were spent with the two of you talking about every thought that popped into both of your brains. each story you told reminded him of a similar one he had, which reminded you of a similar story you had, and the cycle went on and on.

he told you about his childhood, moving to another country with yunho in tow and nothing else to his name. yunho’s version you’ve already heard, but hearing the second telling of the story left a different impact. mingi talked about yunho with stars in his eyes, he spoke of him so highly, yunho is someone he held close to his heart. 

he talked about coming to new york, his dream of becoming a successful music producer, the dream you both shared. you reveled in your shared dream for a bit, how you wanted to succeed, what genres you preferred, tips and tricks of the trade. he showed you a couple songs on his phone, and you were right to hold your opinion of him so high, his style is unlike anything you’ve ever heard. 

he grew up listening to a plethora of genres, his favorite being rock, he went to as many concerts as he could for as many different genres as he could, and spent plenty of nights by himself writing music. he’s a rapper as well as a producer, most of his music has his vocals and rap lines over it, all written by himself. his knowledge and experience shows through his music, his art, it’s motivating more than anything. it gives you a clearer goal, an objective for your own future. 

“what the fuck is fix on?”

“my tag, like an ad-lib.” 

“like karate kid? wax on, wax off.” 

that made him laugh, and laugh loud, “it’s for like, determination, i guess. like to be fixed on a goal or a target.” 

“i like it, mister miyagi.”

mingi and hongjoong got close when they met their freshman year, and became inseparable. they share the same values, have the same dream, and are both extremely talented individuals. when put together, they’re truly special. he showed you one or two tracks hongjoong had a hand in and it blew you away. their style was so unique, a mixture of genres that bled into one sound, but it worked. it worked so fucking well. you knew in your heart they were going to run the industry one day, and you’d be their number one competitor.

you got into your childhood, you shared the feeling of moving somewhere new with nothing to your name. his was a lot greater, you’d just hopped a couple states over. but the two of you could relate to one another, on a deeper level than either of you thought you would. there are too many things that the two of you shared… it scared you and excited you. 

somewhere in those hours you moved from the leather chairs to the couch, you sat facing him with your knees bent up right beside his torso. your shoes had come off, his hoodie that smelled so deliciously like him had swallowed you over your jumpsuit. his arm stretched across the couch behind you, touching your shoulder every now and then, reminding you of that uncomfortable feeling which kept itself seated at the pit of your stomach. 

“we have more in common than i initially thought, i think,” you leaned your head to the side, facing him still, the top of your head hitting the back of the couch. 

“i had a feeling we would get along. you’re too bright eyed to be a local, too talented to be boring,” he answered, his arm stretched behind your head bent up to pat your head. 

“did hongjoong ever answer you?” you asked, realizing he never showed up. you played with the sleeves of his hoodie mindlessly, looking up at him.

“can i be honest?” a rhetorical question, his eyes looking down at your sleeves, “i never texted him.” 

both of you giggled like little kids, his chest rising and lowering with each laugh. this comfort, this ease you both clearly feel, you didn’t want it to stop. it was so easy to talk to him, your conversation had a constant flow from the time he walked into the room. 

you let out a tsk, “you’re gatekeeping me, song mingi, and that’s no fun.” 

“if anyone‘s gatekeeping you, it’s jeongin,” his snap is quick, like he was waiting to bring up jeongin. your jaw drops before a laugh erupts from your throat. 

you sit up and smack his shoulder playfully, “you’re fucked up!” 

he shrugs, “it’s true.” he isn’t laughing, there’s no smile on his face. he’s dead serious. you should get up, you should leave, you should at least tell him not to say things like that. but you don’t.

your laughter dies and you’re both staring at each other, a stillness overtaking the room. it’s deafening, the close proximity in which you’re sitting now feels incriminating. your sock covered foot touching his thigh feels like it’s on fire. 

“mingi,” your voice is so low it’s almost a whisper, that pit feeling in your stomach you pushed down only growing.

“tell me there’s nothing between us, that there isn’t this thing that would’ve started last week if you didn’t have him,” his face is blank, you couldn’t read him. every feature is perfectly in place as he looks at you, no dishonesty in his eyes — just veracity. 

“why?” is all you ask, voice small. you didn’t dare move an inch, you didn’t break contact, fear breaking out across your skin. fear for what, you couldn’t place. 

“i want to kiss you, i know i shouldn’t, but i’m starting to not give a fuck anymore. i need you to tell me no,” his voice is also low, raspy but still laced with confidence. he sits forward a bit, head turning to face you more. your eyes drift from his own to his lips, those lips you’d been seeing in your dreams. bottom lip red from how often he pulls it between his teeth, both wet from how many times he’s licked them to soothe them over. they were inviting, you wondered what they tasted like, what they’d feel like pressed against your own. 

“ki, if you don’t answer i’m going to assume it’s a yes. say no,” he repeats, whispering the last part, and you look back up to his eyes. every ounce of your body that was feeling fear a moment ago is replaced with need, a demand so great that it’s pulsing through you, a desperation you haven’t felt in a long time. there was no other thought in your brain other than what he felt like. you needed to know, fuck the consequences. 

with a speed you’ve only experienced with one other person, his lips are pressed to yours. you couldn’t think, you couldn’t process, you couldn’t think of anything other than him and how much you wanted him.

his lips tasted so entirely like him, wet and messy and sweet. his hands confidently wrapped around your head like they were made for this purpose, his lips fitting so perfectly between your own you can’t imagine anyone else’s being there again. it was fascinating, one kiss changing everything you knew about yourself. 

you had one boyfriend back at home. you started dating when you were seventeen, a junior in high school, he was your first everything. you were so wrapped around his finger you thought you’d be married by twenty. you could see it: the two of you living in new york city together, in a big penthouse, a fat diamond on your finger. he was lanky, a tall boy with pretty white teeth and shaggy brown hair, he was everything you thought you wanted in a partner. he was funny, quiet but he knew when to use his voice, he was insistent on what was best for you and your future. 

then the time came for you to graduate, and around that time you were a fucking mess. as much as you needed to leave home to go to a big city with big opportunities, of course, leaving everyone you’ve ever known destroyed you. the day you graduated high school you broke it off with him. you told him it was because you were leaving and there was no way a long distance relationship would work, but you knew if you truly loved him you would've made it work. you knew when you came to the city of dreams you’d meet someone who swept you off your feet. 

as mingi scooped you off your spot on the couch and onto his lap, you knew you were right. you’ve always been loyal to jeongin, you’d barely ever looked in anyone else’s direction. you were fully convinced jeongin was the one you’d be in that penthouse with, and he’d be the one to get on one knee and put that diamond around your finger. 

jeongin has never once treated you this way, and god does it feel good. you’d never once felt this level of greed, this level of desperation. like you’re the last sip of water in a desert and mingi hasn’t had a drop in days. your thighs wrapped around mingi’s hips and his hands found your waist, tongues in a battle to see who wanted the other more. you were both out of breath, the kiss never once breaking, and your brain was on a carousel. all you could think was how good this feels, how good he feels and that you wanted more on repeat. until the one person’s face who should not be in your head right now popped in to remind you what the fuck you were doing. 

you broke away, wide eyed, with a hushed fuck.

a muttered fuck fuck fuck left your lips as you got off his lap, quickly backing up two steps away from him.

“i’m sorry,” he blurts out, pulling his shirt over what you were just happily grinding yourself against, “ki, i’m so sorry.”

“shut up,” you snap, with your hands out in front of you, eyes shut, “let me think.”

this is okay, you can get away with this. no one needs to know what just happened. it was once, you needed to get it out of your system. you’ll never do it again. it’s okay. no one can know, though. not a single person in the world can find out what just happened, you and mingi both need to take it to the grave. as long as no one finds out, you’ll be safe. you and jeongin will be happy. it’ll work out. this is okay. it’s okay.

“you tell no one,” you say shakily, your voice low, “not yunho, not hongjoong, not any of your other friends. no one.”

he hurriedly nods, “i won’t tell a soul, please don’t freak out. i’m sorry ki.”

you gathered your backpack, throwing your headphones and all the other shit you had sprawled across the desk into it. you threw it over your shoulders, heading for the door.

“ki?” he calls from the couch, and you pause, turning your head to look at him.

“my hoodie.”

[alelathedragon]

Mr.Puzzles Ramble part 4009488383839393848

I added links to my other rambles if yo interested but all in all.....

Chat

GET EM

[1]

[2]

[3]

I wanna talk about 2 episodes in particular for this ramble:

Mario loses his moustache & Mr.Puzzles lowest point

It is my humble opinion that this dude still does NOT know what the fuck a MEME is- cus look at his actions in each episode. In the first one he studies Mario intensely because this is the one who has been ruining his plans the most with his bullshit and FUNNY.

Mr.Puzzles is after the power of being funny but still finds memes disgusting/horrible, when he makes Pedro his intensions are to film the creature hoping to steal SMG4's fame in a SMG3 LIKE manor, instead of stealing the videos hes just stealing assets of an actor. Yes; he does say MEME OFF but im convinced this man has no fucking clue what he's talking about and thats made more apparent in the next episode where he's going through content creator depression.

When the children turn on their Brainrot Skibbity Toilet he rightfully finds it to be the most insulting thing to ever grace his face and wants it gone, but then he realizes; hey wait a minute ... If I do this, I can traffic people to follow me, make money, make the content I love and BAM!! I'll be popular!!!

However.... He gets in his own way, when the "fame" of a billion children liking his youtube channel hits, it gets to his head immediately and he gets distracted from what he really wanted to do! He doesn't wanna make this shit, he wants to make his art!!! He doesn't understand WTF he's made other than an abomination

Like this man is genuinely confused as to why people have not gone from his shitty youtube channel over to his REAL content on the TV bc he forgot the part where he's supposed to stop the youtube and make stuff he likes again. Too 1 track minded

Even to the SMG4 crew its not funny bc it is NOT a meme! Mr.Puzzles doesn't know how to do that.

He came into the convention wanting to talk about his interests, inspirations, how he wrote his screen plays... Alas the crowd was children who didn't give a flying fuck about his craft and this pissed him off. Like: WHAT DO U MEAN U DIDNT LOOK AT MY TV SHOWS AND ONLY WATCH THIS STUFF IM NOT PROUD OF!?!?

& funnily enough

That leads into another point where this guy gives up so fast on things. Like in the cannon he SAYS he's given up on TV but that's a lie, he's going to keep doing entertainment.

What I mean by him giving up easily is:

He is a pathetic little meow meow folks. Hes one of those villains that THRIVES off a evil plan but when he's caught. He puts up his hands and runs, or throws things at his enemies.

Like in WOTF, in the song all boyo does: is throw shit because he DOES NOT know how to defend himself bro lololol. He has the power of his imagination but this isnt his head or his rules so he cant just- imagine a kung fu master as himself and fight back: his natural defences are to

Run/ Hide/ Throw things/ Bat things away/ Retract/ Panic

So when a plan fails. That plan is practically gone until he can think of a new way to use it

Like i doubt we're going to see Mario losing his moustache for a long time, i think we're going to see it again!!! But not soon. Mr.Puzzles needs time to cook that thought in the back of his mind of if it's even worth trying again or not.

He coulda given up on that thought all together but we wont know til we see!!

And he gave up on the youtube too! Because he was disappointed in himself and bro really just; could not bear to use that money anymore. He looked at that cash and could only relate it to his cringe youtube channel that he didnt want to associate with anymore. The original plan to use the money to make the content he wants: ⚰️

"I can't just use the money to make the content i want now! Im ruined! They just see me as a kids play toy now and this cash is NOTHING!!"

He forgot the plan, thus it got ruined by his own hand, and sense it was no longer completable in the way he originally intended it to go- it was impossible to complete.

He's so silly. I love him so much

[muletia]

[tfp] optimus prime x human!reader

summary: optimus likes to stare at you

cw: suggestive themes, hardcore pinning, optimus is fucking obsessed with you, obsessive thoughts, yandere?? optimus i guess, bro is down bad for you

word count: 995

an: had a blast wiritng this, i love making characters disgustingly obsessed with reader lmao

He was doing it again.

Optimus is a calculated being. He didn’t make rash decisions, never threw words to the wind. Every action he took had meaning; none were purposeless or born of impulse or whim. He was crafted to be the perfect leader, to guide thousands, millions. He was supposed to be an authority, the alpha and omega, someone to be respected, admired, and followed. But there was one creature who turned his philosophy upside down and broke his facade.

He blinked once, twice. His optics returned to reading the report on the datapad. However, not even ten seconds of focus passed—a return to being the Prime—and his attention was anchored somewhere else again.

He couldn’t tell anymore, was he doing it on purpose or automatically? A force stronger than him, stronger than Primus himself, was pulling his optics toward that one being capable of breaking him. In the presence of this rare power, he was truly defenseless, revealing to everyone close to him the truth of his feelings, the intensity of which surpassed his wildest expectations. They had grown beyond his control, fierce and unyielding, like a wild beast impossible to tame.

He knew it was inappropriate, and unfitting for you and his friends; he should have restrained the beast before it became a problem. But he hadn’t. He had failed, and another burden had taken residence on his shoulders.

You laughed, and his optics instantly shifted to you. His spark throbbed pleasantly, distracting him from tormenting his very being. He adored that sound, rejoicing every time he heard it. It was melodic, soothing, and calming. In an instant, it tamed his chaotic processor, now focused solely on you, the real you. Optimus observed every smile, frown, and wrinkle on your face with great curiosity, even though he had done it countless times. He watched your chest rise and fall, counting how many breaths you took in a minute. He searched for any abnormalities or signs of illness. Nothing escaped his attention.

He already knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on the report. Not when you were so close to him, when he knew there was a microscopic chance you’d start a conversation with him. You’d honor him and look at him, too. He didn't dare to ask for more. He longed, but he knew he couldn’t allow himself that—at least not now. For the sake of keeping an image, he still held the datapad in his hand, but his thoughts were circling around you.

You were discussing something with Miko about a topic he didn’t understand, related to Earth’s video games. For some time now, he had planned to gather knowledge about them, so he could have conversations with you beyond his comfort zone, aligned with your interests. He wanted to be more approachable, and friendly, enticing you to spend more time with him. Amidst the stream of words, he caught a single one, which he assumed was a title, and made a mental note to study it later. Would you be happy to see him as someone worth talking to? Would you smile, let him hold you on his servo or shoulder? Help ease a processor constantly focused on unknowns and daydreams?

Content simply to be in your presence, yet fantasizing about something deeper, more intimate, he was still intently watching you. He had drifted so far from shore that he acknowledged Jack's and Rafael’s greetings a second too late. He nodded to the kids and briefly watched as they climbed onto the couch beside you. You had a way with children, caring for them, and helping with their school projects, but most importantly, you were their friend. Seeing you surrounded by children had an effect on Optimus—a feeling he was even frightened to contemplate because it easily took over him, pulling him away from reality, creating visions that would never come true, no matter how much he wanted them to.

"You are crossing the line," he reminded himself, fully aware that he had crossed it long ago. The cup had overflowed; there was no going back. Primus, he had just daydreamed about having offspring with a different species.

The truth was, despite all the self-flagellation, despite the hatred for what he had become, the ruin he had brought upon himself, he didn’t want to stop. You were a pleasant distraction from the war, death, and suffering that had accompanied him since becoming Prime, and for now, he didn’t plan to (couldn't) let go of that distraction. This didn’t mean his little obsession with you was painless—quite the contrary. However, those brief moments when your attention was focused on him, when you shared your touch as you traveled with him through Jasper when you looked only at him, made up for all the pain, torment, and hell he went through. Then there was no war, no Decepticons, no Optimus Prime. There was only him and you.

One last time, he tried to return to the report, but this time it wasn’t his illusions sabotaging his work. This time, it was you.

“Optimus,” your voice freed him from the prison of his thoughts. “I’d totally understand if you don’t have time to leave the base. But… would you perhaps like to drive me home? It’s getting late.”

“Of course, [Name],” he replied immediately because refusing you made no sense.

“Can’t you ask Bumblebee instead of dragging Optimus to fulfill your whims?” Ratchet intruded into the conversation.

“That will not be a problem for me,” Optimus assured, with an unusually stern tone aimed more at the medic than at you. “I am at your service, [Name].”

“Thank you!”

He transformed and waited patiently for you to join him. He opened the door, and once you climbed into the seat, he fastened the seatbelt himself. He hoped you wouldn’t notice the slow pace he had settled upon, that this time he had decided to be selfish, savoring the unrestrained pleasure of your privacy.

[powerpuffobsession]

First time writing an essay about Helluva Boss. Episode 2.10, Ghostfuckers

So, episode 2.10...

I have a lot to say about it considering all the previous episodes. First of all, I'm glad that the senior man managed to punch Millie through a wall. She deserved that for all the innocent humans she, Blitzo and her husband murdered in episode 1.3 (I remind you that this is a cartoon about imps who are serial murders, and DHORKS are not the villains but rather just looking for revenge, uguuu U_U)

I'm just disappointed that Blitzo didn't get punched (because he's a traumatized uwu baby in this one and that would break him in half, I guess)

Now, let's get to it, to the bad and a bit of good

Animators and voice actors are still killing it, they are the ones single-handedly saving this show (had it not looked so pretty compared to Family guy or RiIck and Morty, I'd never even given it the light of day with its writing, because my eyes would just bleed and I'd close the tab. I'm a sucker for beautiful animesque designs, what can I say)

The fighting scenes are much more fluid now, my head doesn't hurt from watching them too

But the writing... The best way to describe this is "Uncanny Valley"

Because Brandon Rogers basically made fanfic inside fanfic. The whole show is already full of loopholes, strange turnarounds and retcons, etc. And Ghostfuckers looks like a stand-off fantasy that first goes on about some fanon version of Millie Brandon would like to see if he was the one who came up with the idea of Helluva boss... And then it switches abruptly to canon Millie, because we have to remember that this is still an episode of Vivziepop's show

This is what we get when Vivziepop is too grossed out by having to develop her female character and dumps it wholly on another writer (for the second time in a row already)

The switch between that cold-blooded and unfriendly Millie and the current awkward happy-go-lucky Millie is just too unnatural. I don't see any hints in the previous episodes about her being such a stock "cool gurl" in the past. It feels like yet another idea that was mashed into the show out of nowhere with no planning (like Stolas and Blitzo meeting as kids or Stolas being a helpless soy-bean victim)

I hate how the show tries to go in the direction of posing Blitzo as a local savior-wannabe who supposedly made the lives of Moxxie and Millie better.

No, he didn't....

I have eyes and ears. I saw how he humiliated Moxxie and made fun of him, he made threats to him and Millie, stalked them outside of work and he still refuses to stop doing that, he DOESN'T EVEN PAY THEM, INSTEAD WASTING ALL THE MONEY ON RANDOM STUFF AND SHAMELESSLY TELLS THEM ABOUT IT DIRECTLY (especially in episode 2.10, do you know what it means not to be paid for a MONTH when you are depending on yourself and not living off your parents money, like Millie and Moxxie?)

In real life, Blitzo would have been told to go fuck himself and all his workers would have left him a long time ago. But in vivziepop's verse Blitzo is apparently the only employer in Wrath ring, I dunno...

I feel like Millie comforted and thanked Blitzo out of pity just so he would stop whining. I remember how she didn't show up to help him escape from the humans in the last short (Moxxie wasn't captured that time unlike in 1.6 episode, so she was unbothered). I tell you, the gurl is hiding her true disdain for Blitzo, since he's her boss. I know two-faced when I see one (and I don't blame her at all)

However, with what condition Blitzo is in in this episode, I have quite a few nasty words to say about Stolas

This is the second or third or maybe even fourth time we've heard how Blitzo ruins the lives of everyone in hell (literally, he gets a whole ass party dedicated to how bad he is, thrown by almost half of hell - writing overkill much?), how he should change, etc... My question is, when will the same be said to Stolas?

Stolas performed the same disgusting scheme a lot of toxic partners have always been using: he tamed Blitzo, he made Blitzo feel like he (Stolas) is important and irreplaceable, Stolas pretended to be kind to Blitzo (when in reality all he wanted from the imp was sex, otherwise he would have requested something else in exchange for the book, it was not that hard to do you know)... And then Stolas got all offended completely out of the blue (just because Blitzo hesitated before accepting his gift, seriously?) and ditched Blitzo while sincerely partaking in an insulting song dedicated to Blitzo at the "Fuck you Blitzo party)...

That bird bitch knows exactly what he's doing. He knew Blitzo would get used to the idea that Stolas only wants sex and doubt Stolas' attempt at selflessness (with the Asmodeus' crystal). Stolas can't be so clueless if he's 30-something years old, I can't stand how Vivziepop infantilizes her characters right at the times when they should realize their wrongdoings and self-improve

If Stolas is not going to understand the damage he did to Blitzo and apologize to him, AND if they are going to still be the end game after all... That'd be a pure romanticization of Stockholm syndrome

You can't have Blitzo as this scapegoat who is somewhat held responsible for his actions (he is at least feeling guilty sometimes and trying to do.... something??? to fix things) and then show someone who's emotionally abusing him as this innocent suffering being. I hate black-and-white writing where the author is playing favourites when it comes to conflicts between characters

Now the small things:

Moxxie wears a bra apparently. Transmale Moxxie headcanon confirmed? (I know his horns are black and white, but he could have dyed them)

I find it funny how the characters keep conversing smugly while fighting and jumping all over the place. Can you stop for one minute and breathe? You're all gonna end up with pink eye one day I swear

The fight scenes are still a repetitive mass of random noise and movement. And that's why in my opinion they last for longer than they should. Helluva Boss is trying to be Samurai Jack with its suspense and various styles/pacing of action, but fails

I loved the scene where Blitzo was tortured by the hallucinations of his past. Helluva boss does a decent job at creepy stuff for a stupid comedy-drama cartoon. The scene where a fantom of his mother shows up and burns in his arms is especially cinematically strong. Blitzo really got stabbed where it hurt the most

Blitzo is more vulnerable than Millie in this episode in general. His past is screwed up big time for a lot of reasons, so he's got a lot of trauma buttons one can push to easily drive Blitzo into a helpless snotty-teary state. Millie, in contrast, is living her best life in hellish terms - she's got loving parents, strong body and personality, no guilt on her shoulders, literally nothing to be ashamed or guilty of. The villain tries to tell her that she's miserable, and she's just laughing in his face because she KNOWS it's not so. That's why Millie keeps protecting Blitzo in 2.10 episode. It's an interesting chemistry and I'm glad it got explored

Though I still don't get how Millie meeting her husband is Blitzo's merit. Not like he actively helped them get together, to of the goodness of his heart too, I sincerely doubt it, given how egoistical, abusive and immature Blitzo is

I hate how Blitzo keeps talking about sex only at some times. It's like a psychosis or something. "Adult cartoon should feature sex talk, because that's how it happens in real life, grow up". In real life anyone would get dirty looks if they spoke in "sex fuck FUCK SEX FUCKING FUCK I want to get it up my ass I WANT SEX" only at the most inappropriate times, so piss off, it's cringe. I get it how Vivziepop and her crew find the mere word "sex" funny, as well as swear words (someone did not grow out of their middle school phase), but can we have other jokes please? The "read the chains" one was kinda funny as well as the high five scene from the 1.3 episode. I want more comedy stuff like that, though it takes effort to come up with that

Speaking of which, I hated the part where a disfigured person who can't even blink is made fun of. Especially how Blitzo and Millie demonstratively express disgust upon seeing her. Unhealthy people are not a joke!

The villain was bland. He's basically just a tool to make Millie and Blitzo get character development. No charisma, no memorable lines or scenes (his transformation to his true form was sort of spicy but lacked something still), no clear motivation. He didn't pass the sexy tumblrman test, I have no memories of him

No s*icidal Millie in this episode. I'm glad about that because that conflict just doesn't suit her (I also think that her reflections about feeling unimportant in 2.5 episode were bullshit, she has no reason for that). If anything it would have been logical to give Moxxie the s*icidal tendencies and the problem of feeling unimportant - he's weak, sensitive, gets mocked and bullied a lot, has a troublesome and dark past with an abusive father.... It'll be a missed potential if until the very end his suffering is going to be taken as just a joke instead of being explored as a serious issue (though we all know vivziepop is going to leave it as that)

Thankfully Luna didn't murder Moxxie at his most neurotic and vulnerable state and didn't ignore his attempt at burning himself with all the papers (I get you, man... Paperwork sucks majorly sometimes). She even gave him an ice cream! When Millie asked Luna to watch over Moxxie, I actually was worried she and Blitzo would return to see Moxxie dismembered and pissed at all over or something. Because this is the same Luna who abused Blitzo (someone who literally allows her to live carefree at his expense), and bullies Moxxie on a daily basis... Blitzo didn't even die when making her do the unnecessary work of burning the owl taxidermy. Is she on antidepressants or something in this episode?

I rate this episode as 7/10

[overnightheartbeats]

“It matters to me. When I’m being told I’m doing this for fun, I kind of like to know why.” Her frown was in clear display. Why wouldn’t it matter? Well, at least he wasn’t telling her to go away, so she took a seat next to him and turned to face him. This could go either way, and if this was where everything went to shit, she wanted to make sure she got everything.

Hearing his level tone was new, especially when she was used to bigger displays of anger or just silence altogether. "You keep saying I had my fun? I don't," she paused, shaking her head. "Do you think I'm so shallow that I use my free time to flirt and mess with guys? Okay true, I did seek you out and maybe that was a little too forward, but I didn't do all of that just because I was bored and needed a..pet project." Listening to him recount what happened had her experience a wave of emotions - stunned, confused, and just generally lost. He described Jenny in a way she had never heard before. It wasn’t landing in her mind, but as he spoke, her mind was already working through it. He had no reason to lie, right? Clearly, he had no issue saying what he thought. But if he did, where would he even get all of this? "Jenny told you I'm playing you?" That sounded outrageous, but why else would he be so upset towards her. “That doesn’t sound like her, but I guess, yeah.” He had no reason to lie to her, did he? She couldn’t quite place it, but there was a part of her that did trust him. Even if her mind was clouded with doubt. Her mind was running at one hundred miles per hour, but it all came to a halt with his latest mention of fun and their kiss. Laurel was upset about many things right now, but their moment being tainted like this was the most irritating (even above him thinking the worst of her). "I didn't kiss you because of some game or to have fun, stop saying that. I did it because I wanted to, and I liked you," she blurted out, exasperated by the conversation and confusion drowning her.

The silence was killing her. It was her worst nightmare, she rather go back to him telling her the different ways she was playing him and how her friend was this big bully. Laurel and silence never really got along, it made her uneasy. She pulled her knees close to her chest, a sense of defeat washing over her. This was done, wasn't it? So much for Juju's optimistic outlook, and that first date. If this situation didn't indicate the end, his comment on girlfriends certainly did. No one being worth the fucking effort, noted. Laurel shook her head once more, "sorry. I..I just thought that you were running off for a girlfriend, and then what you said in class about wanting to stay. I just thought that..well, it doesn't matter." She thought he was like the typical college guys, yeah. "I assumed, my mistake, but that's also why I asked. Because, like I said, not a game to me. It felt that way, and I don’t want to misread something. I didn’t have any other context, just you running off and being gone for however long. Then what you said earlier…well, yeah.” Whether intentional or not, he was drawing lines. Ones she had quickly ran past the last time around. "I am glad that your family holds so much value, I confused that. I’m sorry, you’re right. We just met and I’m not entitled to your personal life.” Even with all of this, he still said bullies - her included? There was no changing this. The annoyance in his tone was clear, even if she wanted to ask anything else, it was not very inviting. “I don’t know, are you up for answering? Or we’re still strangers?”

Jenny knew Laurel’s schedule, being roommates and all. After messing with Eli, she went to grab a quick bite and grabbed something for Laurel after class. She figured if she showed up with lunch, plans would be decided for her. Walking down the empty hallway, she was surprised to see Laurel outside of class but soon it made sense. There he was with her too. Rolling her eyes once, she willed her best smile and walked right towards them. “Hey guys! Ugh, you guys look so cute - right out of a movie! No class today? I came to meet you for lunch, but didn’t think you’d be out so early! You could join us!” She directed at Eli, though she knew that was unlikely.

Despite himself he moved the books and made room for her next to him. "Does it matter?" It seemed laurel wasn't going to let it go so he sighed. "The bully brigade. Your friend Jenny is the leader. She made it seem like you knew and have just been playing a game with me because you're bored. Which if that's the case, I want no part of it. Just leave me alone. I'm not a pet project."

"I called her what I did because that's what she is. I don't tend to say something I don't fucking mean." The rage against Jenny was strong but he kept his even tempered tone. "She's made it her personal hobby to keep badgering me just because we keep hanging out. You must like me better than her might be going around in her head. I don't want trouble. I can see my way out of this equation just do me a favor and leave me out of it. You've had your fun. Had your kiss. Let me go back to obscurity. You can go back to her. Since she's so scared to lose you to a nobody. Her words not mine."

He sat there in silence too exhausted to get up and walk away. The flight had him wired enough not to sleep and he was paying for it now. His eyebrows knitted together as their conversation came to mind. "Why on earth would you think I'd kiss you if I had someone back home? What kind of asshole do you take me for." Girlfriend made him snicker. "Doing this much for a girlfriend," he shook his head. "No one is worth this much fucking effort. I didn't run away from you because I wanted you to think I was playing. I'm sorry but we've just met. There's no questions or hesitation when my family calls. Least of all my little sister. Could I have been more straight forward , sure but no one is entitled to my personal life. Especially bullies. It's earned."

Setting his arms over his knees he watched the empty hallways. "Anything else you need to know?" He had been annoyed but he also wanted to be left alone. If this was a trick then he'd rather have Laurel pull the bandaid off.

[heyheydidjaknow]

I’m not dead I promise. Nor am I done with x reader stuff. Finally, Mello gets his day in the limelight. Good for him.

Scarring

“That translation is wrong.”

“Thank you.” You did not look up from your notebook. “You know, it sure would suck if I went a minute without knowing that I’m bad at this.”

He took a sip from his milkshake, his weight leaned against the counter. “Get better, then.” He pointed at the page you were on, gesturing to the words. “The girl isn’t greedy; she doesn’t get to have a masculine adjective.”

You groaned, resting your head in your hands. “Jesus fucking— that’s the only noun in the sentence!”

Another sip. “If there isn’t another noun,” he explained slowly, not bothering to hide his condescension, “you assume there’s an invisible ‘vir’ there.”

“Why is it invisible? For whose benefit?”

“The author’s, mainly.”

You rubbed your eyes, pushing your hair out of your face. “This is bullshit,” you decided. “This whole thing is moronic.”

“Serves you right for learning a dead language.”

“Eat my dick.”

He snickered. “I’ll get right on it.” He looked around the diner for the fifth time, a frown settling on his face. “He’s late.”

You took a sip from your drink. “Serves you right for being a stalker.”

“It’s called espionage.”

“A rose by any other name smells just as stalkery.” You smirked. “Serves you right for agreeing to it in the first place— what if he doesn’t show up? What’s your plan then, genius?”

“Shut up.” He leaned his cheek against his hand. “He’ll be here.”

“Sure, sure.” You closed your notebook. “I give up. Three hours of torture is enough, I think.”

He stirred his milkshake, pulling the straw out of the cup and stabbing the bottom of it. “You won’t get a degree if you flunk out.”

“I don’t need Latin to graduate.” You took another sip from your drink. “I don’t need Latin as a general— how come you don’t know how to cook soup but you know Latin?”

He considered the question. “I wanted to prove that I could learn it.” Another stab.

You sneered. “Then I suppose your rival knows some Latin too, then.”

Another glare.

“If you want me to stop knowing what you’re going to say, stop being so predictable.” You tried to will away your simper with little success. “You can’t blame me for having basic pattern recognition.”

He looked back at his milkshake, took another sip. “I was better at it than him,” he grumbled. “He was always shit at languages.”

You giggled. “I’m sure he was.” Your gaze fell upon the clock behind the counter, your expression souring. “We’ve been here for an hour,” you pointed out. “How long—“

“His arrival time has a two hour margin.” He picked up the glass, scraping the excess shake off the sides. “If Holiday-- his horse-- won, he’s going to be here an hour before closing time. If Holiday didn’t win, he’ll be here thirty minutes before closing because he’ll spend more time at the bar. If he gets into an argument at home— which happens once every week or so, especially on Saturdays because they’re supposed to be their date night— he’ll come here first for dinner before leaving to get drinks and will go to a fast food place instead.” He took another sip. “The diner closes in an hour, so if he doesn’t show up in another thirty minutes, we can leave.”

You stared at him, blinking slowly. “I see.” You ran your finger along the edge of your notebook. “And let’s say this guy— who, for the record, you know too much about— doesn’t conform to the schedule that you assigned him; what’s the next step?”

There was something more in his glare this time, a familiar edge. “What if the Moon crashes into Earth before he gets here? What if the floor opens up and we all die?” His eyes darkened, and you were reminded, much to your subconscious’ dismay, who it was that you were dating. “I didn't give up my childhood for nothing,” he said, conviction dripping like tar out of every pore. “I know what I’m doing. He’ll be here.”

You opened your mouth to answer, thought better of it. You focused on your glass.

He blinked, eyes widening as his face softened. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.” He laced his fingers together, twiddling his thumbs. “I have— this isn’t—“

“Don’t stress it.” You smiled weakly. “It’s late; we’re tired. I know you— well, that you aren’t going to do anything stupid.”

He nodded curtly. “Good. I’m glad.” He reached over, taking your hand and running his thumbs over your knuckles. His hands were shaking. “I’m stressed out is all; there’s a lot riding on this.”

“I know, baby.” You ran your free hand through his hair, bringing it to rest against his cheek. “You’re right; it’ll work out.”

He nodded again, slower this time. “I won’t make you regret what you’ve done for me,” he promised. “This will be good for the both of us.”

You brought his hands to your lips, kissing each. “You don’t need to keep telling me; I know you will.”

“Good.” He glanced at the counter, letting his hands fall to his lap. “I’m glad.”

“Good,” you agreed. “I'm glad you’re glad.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you’re glad I’m—“

The door made a jingle as someone entered the diner. The look on your boyfriend’s face told you who it was.

You were smart enough not to look behind you.

He grabbed his glass, turning his back to the man. “What’d I say?” He looked over at you, pride shining in his eyes. “Good day for Holiday.”

You looked down at your closed notebook, pretending to study it. “I suppose you were right.” You glanced in his direction. “What time can I expect to have you home?”

He considered it. “One at the latest,” he decided. “If I can’t make it home before then, I’ll call you.”

You nodded, slipping your book in your bag. “One it is.” You stood up. “Can I kiss you goodbye?”

He shifted the glass, trying to catch the man’s reflection. “He’s too shifty to risk it.” He glanced up at you. “But I’ll kiss you when I get home.”

Waiting was the worst part of dating Mathew.

The second worst thing was the fact that he wouldn’t tell you his real name (he had offered Mello as a substitute— which the two of you agreed was an objectively silly name— but he claimed Mathew was as close as he could give you, what with the times being what they were). The third was that he got himself into bad situations all the time, but the very worst were these agonizing waits between seeing him after the working day was over and Good Samaritan laws practically stopped being in effect. It could have been worse, you supposed— he could be late and stupid enough to get hurt— but it did not make the wait any less unbearably long. He always came back, and you knew he always would, but it was impossible not to assume the worst at twelve-fifty. Fifty-six, now.

‘This show sucks.’ You turned the television off, letting your eyes fall closed.

A knock at the door.

You shot up from your doze. Quickly, quietly, you slid off the couch onto your knees, groping under it before your hand found a cool, heavy piece of metal. Taking the bat in your hand, you approached the door. Stealing yourself, you glanced through the peephole.

Him.

You exhaled, unlocking the door. He was doubled over, breathing labored, glistening with sweat. You pulled him inside, relocking up as he tried unsuccessfully to compose himself. His eyes were trained on the bat. “You should let me buy you a piece,” he panted. “That’s… fuck… that’s not going to be helpful if…” He swallowed, laughing in exhaustion. You could see now that he had dried blood stuck to the side of his face. “If someone comes here, a bat’s not gonna help. I could’ve shot you through the door.”

You reached out, tilting his head up towards you to get a better look. They were ugly scratches; pale skin outlined angry red and pink flesh. You tried not to ask. “You need to disinfect these,” you mumbled. “You’ll get scars.”

He waved your hand away, standing up straight. “I’ll be fine,” he assured you. “The guy just scratched me is all.”

“Disgusting stuff is under fingernails.” You took his hand, leading him towards your bathroom. “You’ll thank me later.”

Grumbling, he let you drag him along, let you sit him down, let you bring harsh antiseptic to the gashes despite his protest. He watched you, mostly, fiddling with his fingernails while you fussed over him.

Finally, he spoke. “You haven’t asked me yet.”

You crumpled up his bandage’s wrapper. “Asked you what?”

“What I did.” He kept his eyes trained on you like it was an effort. “If I did it.”

You shrugged. “Not my business.” You tossed them out. “Are you complaining that I’m making myself a bad witness?”

“I guess.” He swallowed. “I’m in, I think. If they hold up their end of it.”

You leaned against your sink, facing him. “Do you get paid this time?”

“I should.”

You nodded absently. “Are you okay?”

Finally, he looked away. “Well enough. I—“ He paused, amending his statement. The cool light of the bathroom— you meant to get those changed— casted dark green shadows across his face. “Well, I thought I would be doing different horrible things, but I knew I’d– I mean to say, I’ve about come to terms with my going to hell if there is one, so.” He smiled shakily. “It doesn’t matter much to me which circle, so I’m alright.”

You nodded again.

“I’m sorry for being late.” He looked down at his nails, forcing his hands onto his thighs. “I mean, I know I wasn’t late, but I should have let you know I was taking longer than expected to come home. My phone died, and I didn’t want to be dropped off close to here.”

“You’re alright. I appreciate it, really.” You gave him a once over. “But you’re not coming to bed without a shower. And I’m not washing whoever’s blood that is out.”

He looked down at his shirt, realizing— seemingly for the first time— that he was spattered with blood. “I look like I killed someone,” he noted.

You shrugged. “Nobody here’s going to call the cops on you for having blood on your clothes.”

“Disturbing, but convenient.” He rolled his eyes. “One more failure to add to the list for the justice system.”

“I don’t know if it’s that.” You crossed your ankles. “I mean, yeah, but I think it’s got more to do with people thinking that there shouldn’t be capital punishment for people guilty of the crime of being kinda weird.”

“Being put to death for being strange,” he mused. “How biblical.”

“It’s not that either,” you stressed. “It’s just that the Kira fanboys started leaking police records so it’s a bigger dick move than it usually is to call the cops for stuff.”

He leaned onto his elbows, letting his head fall forward. “Again,” he sighed, “how biblical.”

“Old Testament justice,” you conceded. “I wonder if Kira’s a Christian.”

“It’s not likely.” He looked up at you, dull blonde hair sticking to his face. “He’s Japanese; most Japanese people aren’t Christian.”

“I guess.” He had a lot of theories about Kira. They were usually accurate, but their quantity brought you pause on occasion. “That’s funny. So is it just faith in the police, then?”

“That’s more likely.”

“Someone should shoot him.”

“If you’ll tell me where to aim, I’m more than happy to.”

You looked down at your tile floor. “You'll have to wait in line.”

“I know.” A pause, then, “I wonder how much his body would go for.”

“Whose, Kira’s?”

“Yeah.”

You considered it. “I’m sure loads of people would want his head for one reason or another. He better hope he doesn’t end up in prison; you’d be able to buy him and his stuff piecemail.”

“Like a celebrity.”

“Like a pope.”

“Like a god.”

You hummed. “Enough people deify him already; all he needs is a church.”

“Wouldn’t that be funny?” You struggled to pinpoint his expression. It was almost sadistic. “What an accomplishment that would be, to be the first person in recorded history to kill a god.”

You let your head fall back. You really hated that light. “You sound like a serial killer.”

“I feel like one.”

“What’s your plan after you catch him?” You looked back down at your boyfriend. He was shivering. “Will the two of you just call a truce?”

He took a deep breath. “Probably not.” He traced one of the tiles with his foot. “If someone as powerful as Kira showed up again, we’d probably fight over who could catch them too. Then another person after that, and another after that. Rinse and repeat until one of us dies.”

“How miserable.”

“Naturally.”

You loved your boyfriend. You loved most things about him. His passion, his drive, his energy— you could see yourself starting a proper life with him. You shared your life with him, anyway, and a part of you believed that one day he would too.

But there was one thing about him you could not stand.

He was ambitious. Too ambitious.

It would get him hurt one day, and you hated that you knew that you would be around to see it.

[batsplat]

do you know why vale seems to have a soft spot for pedrosa?

there's not any single one reason, I don't think, but here's are a few contributing factors that come to mind:

history! in large part because of the honda link, dani's the alien he's known the longest... valentino was the number one honda rider at a time at which dani was honda's rising star. photo on the right is from the 2001 honda celebrations at the last race of the season (when dani was sixteen); from oxley's valentino rossi: all his races: "that night vale celebrated in style at a raucous honda victory party, where he taught honda youngsters daijiro kato and dani pedrosa how to drink". they've known each other forever! valentino was getting teenage dani drunk! quite natural to be fond of someone you've seen grow up like that, even if they are being moulded to be your next big rival

circumstance! the way it basically works with valentino is that if you want to have a feud with him, you generally need to have a title fight with him when you’re already ‘established’ rivals (ignore marc, that’s its own thing, 2015 is a freaky season). biaggi and valentino were enemies headed into 2001 and then were worse enemies, he was cool with sete in year one but not year two, mostly *wiggles hand* the same with casey and jorge… feuds aren't build overnight. valentino and dani weren’t ever really direct title rivals - closest they got was 2006 and 2008, but in both cases valentino probably didn’t see dani as his main problem that year. there wasn't really any competitive necessity for valentino to get nasty... also with one or two notable exceptions, valentino did kinda have dani handled in their actual wheel-to-wheel fights, which let’s face it probably didn’t hurt

yapping! so this is just a theory but it’s one I believe strongly in. you know how valentino loves to talk, right? the thing about pressers and podiums is that you're always going to have a few regular attendees, if you will, corresponding to the front runners in any given year. now, unfortunately for valentino, there were periods of time where almost every other regular attendee was someone he had pretty active beef with. that doesn’t mean he always avoided yapping at them, but relatively speaking you want a guy you can build up some good repartee with to pass the time. dani was his guy… less complicated than casey and jorge, plus dani is polite enough to go along with it and maybe even enjoy chatting to valentino (it’s been known to happen). pressers can be boring and at podiums you're still full of adrenaline, valentino wants to share a joke with someone! my completely unscientific sense is that valentino does this a lot with dani around 2008-ish to 2012, then for two years marc is the number one yap victim, then for a while it’s a bit…? oddly valentino does seem to chat quite a lot with jorge in 2015... he likes to throw in a quirky behavioural pattern sometimes to keep you guessing. anyway then in 2016 he is Actively Ignoring two of these men so vale goes!! hi there dani!! and takes it from there (though the field is more mixed up post-2015 so he becomes more of an opportunistic yapper). in general, valentino will chat to pretty much anyone with A Few Exceptions, but he does usually have a bit of an order of preference

dani’s personality! now, obviously dani is very much capable of feuds, but he’s not that naturally combative a character. valentino generally needs a competitive justification for beef, though some personal animosity can help too… but he never really hated any of that trio of young riders to come through. valentino's known dani forever, he’s been around dani a fair bit because of their respective statuses in the sport, dani isn’t going out of his way to pick fights with valentino, so no reason not to get on! he does clearly quite like chatting to dani and seems pretty fond of him even towards the start of the alien era, at a time in which it was broadly expected that dani not casey would emerge as vale's primary challenger... god knows if the relationship would have soured if dani had assumed that mantle (probably at least a little lol) but failing that, valentino does just seem to quite like him. y’know, sometimes it’s like that

They Have Also Had Their Disagreements, But There Hasn’t Been Much Cause For It To Escalate Further. these disagreements have tended to be over racing standards, where dani is generally in the ‘you people are all insane’ camp and valentino is generally in the ‘ah it’s fine’ camp (though, obviously, there is nuance here… cf vale also criticising sic over the le mans 2011 incident that left dani with the broken collarbone). generally, they don't get into direct conflict over it, more of an underlying difference in positions (hey, aragon 2013 is an example)... but there’s been dani’s suggestion that valentino’s sepang 2015 stance is inconsistent with his generally laissez faire approach, and also some other isolated little scuffles over the years like say 2017 aragon (see below). pretty small scale stuff in the grand scheme of things and if you've been on-track rivals for that long it's kinda inevitable you'll eventually disagree about some stuff, but perhaps worth bringing up

went through all of the alien combos in my head and these two slot in just behind dani/casey as probably the two most consistently beef-free inter-alien relationships? dani/casey gets extra credit for surviving The Teammate Test. but, y'know, the thing about valentino is that he's a sociable, outgoing guy... he likes talking to people... he's actually interested in them... he's a decent conversationalist, easy to get on with, all that stuff. so if you expose valentino to this nice fella who at most was like... perhaps a bit more reserved towards the start of his time in the premier class (partly due to his mentor's approach), but really was generally pretty chill... well, if valentino isn't given any reason to hate dani, then default state is that he won't. good on them etc

[tubborucho]

'it's not much" <- 3700k words long

“To prevent our guard dog from biting,” Tubbo says wryly, when she finally flings the spoon away in frustration. “Punishment, they said.”

😭😭😭

Tbf, they would not stand a chance otherwise if they let Bad be absolutely free. And he should have been.

They hate them. The Eye. The spectators. The other contestants—the other victims . Them, and this damned mountain they call their home.

Crazy.

She knows she is a sinner. She just wants to be good.

Honestly, a powerful line. I will remember it for my demon characters in rp.

But also reminded this, lol⬇️

Pierre and Tubbo are gone, most likely down in the mines. Every piece of machinery they try to make ends up frozen over, so their current plan is to build their next attempt beside a pit of lava. Tina tries to tell them about the busted gears and cut wires she finds whenever they rig a new mechanism up, but they shrug her off. It’s not that they don’t believe her: they just can’t believe her. Tina doesn’t want to dampen their hopes.

Aw ;( Man, it was sad that Create didn't work when watching Purgatory, but reading it in a text like that, where everything is so much more real...

Pol is headed down to help Pac, but not after pressing a canteen of tea into Rivers’ hands. She catches Tina’s eye, and offers her a small wave. Rivers is a bit more of a lone wolf, but she is Tina’s favorite travel buddy on the rare occasion she ventures out.

I love Rivers so much. Have I ever told anyone how much I love her.

In the distance, she can hear Niki’s laughter as Missa excitedly tells her his plans for the day. All apple related, of course.

Apple boy :D

Bad kicks at the ground impatiently and Tubbo’s face turns pitying. “Sorry, man, I don’t think it’s right to take you. You can’t make any callouts and you haven’t eaten since yesterday. Just…keep watch, and we’ll figure out how to take that thing off tonight.”

Tubbo is right. He is so right. But also :(((((((((((((((((((((( Let my guy maim, he did nothing wrong

Bad growls, low and inhuman and right from his chest. Tubbo doesn’t flinch. He’s held Bad off before when he was much worse: rabid with bloodlust and fully armed. “Keep an eye on him,” he tells Tina, and brushes past them to the boats.

I will never not feel like taht⬇️

over Tubbo and Bad's dynamic in purgatory. It just makes my brain go haywire. Or honestly, Bad in all the Soulfire. It's just 'what if this powerful destructive being cared for you and let you be its keeper' AAAAA reminds me of one clingy duo fic taht is Doctor Who crossover, and Tubbo is a Time Lord that is known to be the perfect killer, The Virtuoso, but he lets Tommy hold his crown (the metaphorical leash here) and decide, where he can go apeshit.

ANYWAY.

For the rest of the day, Bad prowls the shore, back and forth, back and forth, like a restless predator. Usually, he never scares Tina when he’s like this, always adding in some dumb quip or joke. But his jaw is locked in place, so he doesn’t speak. He just hunts.

*giggling, twirling my hair and kicking my feet in the air* Евгений, вы такой опасный (<- a very niche russian meme)

A winter storm is upon them. It’s not natural—nothing down here is. This is a punishment specifically for them.

*sigh* of course it is

Tina whirls into action.

Leaving Bad be for now, she sprints over to where Niki, Lenay, and Missa are, and sends them down to the underground base with Pac. “Start a new farm there,” she tells them as she presses the last of their seeds into Niki’s hands. “Plant everything, remember to place torches. We need it warm and finished by tonight.”

Whenever she relays instructions, she’s always half-expecting a fight, and it stuns her every time when her teammates listen without complaint. Once they’re off, she begins dismantling the tents they’ve been sleeping in.

TINA THE GOAT. THE MVP. I LOVE HER. WE ALWAYS BEED TO TALK MORE ABOUT HOW EPIC SHE WAS AND AND AND *foaming, Anderson's Little Mermaid style*

“It’s so fucking cold here,” he complains. “Anything interesting happen?"

“I think it’s gonna snow,” Tina says dully.

Tubbo raises an eyebrow and points at the flakes swirling around them.

“No, like a snowstorm, idiot,”

They are both idiots <3

Tina watches as Tubbo examines the muzzle with the critical eye of an engineer. “How the fuck did they attach this?” Tubbo huffs, wrestling with the lock. Finally, he wedges the pickaxe between a weak link and strikes down, hard, and the muzzle falls to the ground.

Bad doubles over to cough, rubbing at his throat. “Language,” he mumbles, voice rough with disuse.

Bruh /affectionate

Tubbo ignores him, watching as Bad flexes his jaw. That’s their leader, Tina thinks, admiringly. He had done his job for the day: ensured Soulfire made it another day, brought back the monster they call friend to the playing field. Now, Tina thinks with trepidation, it’s her turn.

This makes me so so so incredibly happy for no good reason. This paragraph on standalone can make my dopamine levels shoot up.

Tubbo does, in fact, love the new base, and he tells her so, mind already racing with ideas for farms and contraptions.

Of course he does. It's the best base a Coach could need🥲

“No, I just—” Tina crouches down, sifts through snow. “ It’s all gone . This is—” Tears are coming now, and she blinks them away furiously. “I thought—” She slams her hand down into the snow. “ This was all I had! ”

I will kill everyone for you, Tina. Just point a finger. I will kill them.

The underground base is small, just one long, low-ceiling room, but they’ve made it surprisingly cozy. Lanterns and flowers hang from the ceiling, and a soul campfire crackles blue. It’s green and lush and warm in here, and the tension in Tina’s shoulders can’t help but drain away.

Home

As Tubbo searches for bandages, Trousers toddles up to her with a pouch of tea leaves and she takes it with a smile.

TROUSERS. I WILL ACTUALLY GENUINELY CRY. I MISS LIL BUDDIES.

“What did you do to get sent here, anyways?” she asks finally. “What are your sins?”

“I don’t know.” Tubbo shrugs. “Fucked around and found out, I guess.”

“Seriously,” Tina prompts.

“Seriously,” Tubbo agrees. “I tend to try and stretch the limits. Usually, I get away with it. But this time—”

“Fucked around and found out,” Tina finishes. “Yeah, I get it.”

My guy will press his forehead to the gun if only to know how long it will take the wielder to make a decision to shoot.

Would include a clip as proof, but unfortunately can't add videos to reblogs.

Tubbo falls silent for a moment. “We’re gonna win,” he says finally, and he has a viscous determination that sends a shiver down her spine. “We’re gonna win, and we’re gonna save everyone’s kids and then we’re gonna ram a sword through that motherfucker’s eyeball.”

And in a perfect world you did.

she’s missed the way he drives her up the wall.

“Oh, thank you, Bad. I can almost forgive you for being absolutely deranged” Tina

" No , Tina," Bad says, as if that weren't a perfectly valid question. "It's a bone saw. I thought you'd need it. They're growing back."

Tina cocks her head. "What?"

Bad motions to his head. "Your horns."

“You—” Tina’s stomach drops. “You know.”

“Well,” Bad replies, and his shoulders hunch. “So do you.”

AWW.

“Why do you always ask me these questions like it’s some test?” Tina says, frustrated. “Don’t you trust me?”

When Bad speaks, his tone is light. “Can I trust you?”

“You’re my team,” she says fiercely. “You. Tubbo. Everyone. And I’m not just saying that! I mean it. I’ll fight for you if you fight for me.” She wants to be needed, so badly.

Bad finishes his work. He hands the knife back to her, and she takes it by the hilt and slips it in her pack. There’s the barest hint of a smile on his face, sad and knowing. “Then I think we’re on the same page.”

Okay, this js just SO. I miss Team Soulfire. They were insane. In the most deeply soul-crashing way.

“I follow your instructions!”

“You do not and it stresses me out every day—”

Bad does not make it easy for Tubbo🤣 /affectionate

“Tubbo, you’ll die in fifty years and Tina and I won’t even miss you,” Bad replies petulantly.

Liar💙

“Oh, did she ask you too?” Tubbo spins on his heel, walking backwards so he can face them both. “Yours seem pretty obvious. No offense, Bad.”

“Offense taken,” Bad assures him.

They are horrible. I lovevthem.

“Let’s head back home, then.”

Tina swallows the lump in her throat. What a simple word, lovely and warm.

They head back home.

🥹🥹🥹

Okay, overall, I loved it to death. It was so good. I am just pacing in the kitchen. I need more. Please, if you EVER feel like writing more – do it. It's just. There's something just so. ARGH.

Thank you.

bone-deep | soulfire found family fic (tina/tubbo/bbh centric)

The night after they muzzle Bad, Tina tries to feed him spoonfuls of tea through the bars. It’s bolted under his jaw, allowing him to do little more than bare his teeth. But he lets her attempt anyways, eyes soft and patient even when her fingers tremble under the cold. All they have is tea. That, a few loaves of stale bread, and half-frozen carrots. All they have is tea, Bad can’t talk, and Tina is so cold.

Or: Purgatory AU, without the prior events of the QSMP. Team Soulfire tries to survive.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Adorned by stars | Changing States

When he hits the I-70, Jeremiah slots George Michael’s Faith into his ’98 Accord and drives with the windows down. His mother would chide him for two reasons: a) he’s wasting fuel and b) it’s begun to storm. But he likes the way the wind shears through his hair like a nail breaking drywall and he likes the way spats of rain settle on his skin like constellations because on the road, he isn’t just a hand for someone else to hold, a body to handle, a man who looks at another man and fears how much of himself he’s lost in his reflection. No. On the road he is the sky, adorned by stars of his own making, relentless in his abundance, blinking in the absence of any other light.

A little Changing States aesthetic & excerpt!

i'm so normal about him i'm so normal i'm so normal i'm so-

[soft-puppy-boyfriend]

At the anger stage of realising I have childhood trauma