#i love y'all so much i'm just half a person lately

[angelbaby-fics]

gonna host a summer tea party next week!! hopefully it'll bring a little life back into this blog & my reawaken my passion for writing!!!

[gor3sigil]

Trans drag performers deserve better.

Okay so since y'all seem interested, here we go.

[This is about MY experience as a “former” transmasc drag king, in my local scene. This isn't representative of the drag scene as a whole because drag is a wide, huge scene with pretty much any type of people in it. I have never done paid gig. I only performed a couple of times before deciding to stop.]

I discovered drag with RuPaul like a lot of people, and for a long time, I only knew about drag queens. It’s when I learned about an initiation to drag king happening in my town that I decided to try it. I did a bit of research before the event took place and that's how I learned that drag king is widely undocumented, compared to drag queen. A bit disheartening but I was excited to do something new and especially to get back in my local queer community after 2 years or so of “no contact” with it because trauma (see my post about my first T4T relationship to understand why).

First surprise when I got there, I was the only transmasc present as an attendee. The organiser and person who teached us is agender and go by he/him, and his at the time SO is a transmasc enby but appart from them, I was the only trans person. Most of the others were cis lesbian women. Makes sense. The initiation weekend went really well and we ended up performing in an open scene at the end. I can't count the amount of times I got misgendered by other kings during this weekend and I have to say, it pissed me off so fucking bad because I was the only one getting consistantly misgendered. But I brushed it off and had a blast.

My drag persona is more of a dragula king, really goth, and I did a lipsync performance on a Black Dresses song. I loved it and had a blast. A year or so later, we decided with other drag kings to do a little group to perform together.

Once again, I'm the only trans person.

And that's when the shitshow kinda happened. From all the drag kings present, I was also the only one who wasn't already part of a collective. So the group we had was composed of people from 2 collectives who would basically cheer each other out at every show, and it's great !! But I wasn't being integrated into the group, and I felt defeated. One of the main reasons why I didn't go to drag shows was because I was FLAT BROKE. I couldn't attend these events as they were always or in a bar so you have to at least buy a drink, or had a fee, and I couldn't afford that.

We started doing rehearsals and I set up a discord server for us all to use and organize the said rehearsals. It soon became apparent that they weren't really serious about this group, that they were more involved in their own collectives and it was HELL to have at least one rehearsal a month. But we had a show scheduled for september, and half of the kings weren't ready, didn't know their texts nor songs. I knew it was going to be bad. Also we were confirmed that the gig was going to actually happen 3 days only before, because the people who said they were going to do the visuals NEVER DID and we had to fumble something quick so the event was promoted very fucking late and we weren't sure we could even afford to do it, because not many tickets were sold.

During the rehearsals I got singled out for everything. My voice was dropping because of the T (I had started 8 months prior) and I tried to do my best with the singing parts but got told a few times that my low voice would sound “weird” amongst the sopranos. Also, one of the solo part a king was going to perform was on a very upbeat music and he said we could join IF WE WANTED.

I said I'd pass since it wasn't my style at all.

And when we got to the venue, the venue didn't have any backstage and I had my solo part just after that, so I couldn't just stand there on stage and do nothing. The others in my group KNEW IT as they had performed in this venue BEFORE but just told me “oh, too bad, improvise something” when they were the same ones who told me that taking part in the number was not mandatory.

Regarding the other artists, man, I hated everything. I got misgendered constantly IN KING LIKE - I'M A DRAG KING FFS. Even by others in my group.

When I corrected another performer, a cis gay dude, he laughed at my FACE and told me “but you're trans aren't you like, against gender or something ?”. As I was pre op and still early in my transition I was basically outing myself everytime I told my pronouns and I got so many cis performers ask me invasive questions about my sex life, or being like “yeah I have a trans friend who goes by X but I knew them as Y so it's Y to me but it's not in a disrespectful way you see”.

So yeah, I didn't have a great night. :)

The cis kings called me “girl” or “sis” because “I'm one of them” even after telling them time and time again that I wasn't comfortable with that.

And after this quite disastrous experience, the same ones who called me “girl” and me got into an argument because they wanted to change a song about forced toxic masculinity which is an INCREDIBLY POWERFUL AND BEAUTIFUL SONG into lyrics to talk about femininity. I said that we could use another song then, because there's so few cis men singers who sing about being forced into toxic masculinity and virility that I found that a bit disrespectful to take this important message and make it about women and femininity. There's plenty of songs about that that we could use.

And now guess what ? I was a MEAN MAN who wanted women to NOT TALK ABOUT THEIR ISSUES because I was a very MANLY DUDE DISGUSTING MALE.

The same people who couldn't gender me correctly and called me “sis” a WEEK BEFORE.

So yeah, I got the fuck out and gave up.

I really wish I can perform again one day, but it'll be in another scene.

So PSA: book drag kings, because they are so underrepresented it's disheartening, RESPECT trans drag performers, don't but bioessentialism in drag for the LOVE OF GOD IT'S DRAG. Like imagine being transphobic as a DRAG PERFORMER. Learn the history. And fucking do better.

[iinumakiis]

Damned If I Do Ya (Damned If I Don't)

summary: gojo satoru is your average frat boy; hosting parties, serial playboy, and somehow managing to pass his classes all the same. unfortunately for him and his normal day to day, he finds himself becoming far more interested in a new addition to his friend group: you.

pairing: gojo satoru/you

warnings: college au, slight smau inclusions, fem!reader, cussing, eventual smut, angst if you squint, gojo's a lil bit of a whore, not proofread, chapter one of multiple

a/n: decided to start a gojo fic 👹 i'm so excited for this y'all don't even knowwww. dividers by @rookthornesartistry + @cafekitsune <3

taglist: @sad-darksoul @seternic @imaddicted-b (ask to be added!)

masterlist / next chapter

Gojo stands outside of the business building, casually chatting up his most recent hookup before class. The woman wraps her well manicured fingers in her hair, toying with it, obviously flirting with a pristine grin. Which Satoru absolutely acknowledges (more so because half of her titties are out), but nonetheless pretends to be interested in anything she has to say.

Meanwhile, Shoko and Suguru show you around campus, being that you transferred in two months late from Kyoto.

"So this way is towards the business building, usually that's where at the dick-for-brains frat boys hang around-" Shoko is rudely interrupted by Suguru loudly yelling overtop of her.

"Speak of dick-for-brains frat boys: Gojo!" Suguru smiles and breaks into a steady jog, eventually meeting up with the snow haired man and clapping him on the back. "Who might this lovely specimen be?" He remarks playfully, eyeing up Gojo's newest arm candy.

His blue eyes roll instinctively, smile still plastered on his face. "This is Ayaka, the smokin' hot girl I told you I was seeing."

Shoko groans from a distance. "Looks like Gojo has another toy to play with." She spins around to face you, making your expression contort into confusion. Gently, she grabs the sides of your arms, "Whatever you do, do not fuck Gojo. He has a new girl like twice a month, and as the newbie to this city, he would feel no shame in taking advantage of your ignorance."

A frown replaces the look of confusion, your brows furrowing together. "Shoko, respectfully, I'm not really one for hookups anyways..."

She nods in response, sighing in relief. "Thank god, I cannot handle graduating being the only girl he hasn't slept with."

You laugh at her deadpan nature. "Yeah, sounds like that should be it's own personal award."

Suguru turns in you and Shoko's direction, "Come here you guys! Y/n you have to meet Gojo!"

Another groan is elicited from Shoko before she reluctantly leads the way towards the two men, Ayaka having given him a kiss and left for her class. Gojo glances at you up and down and quirks an eyebrow, something bordering on curious. He steps to meet you two, much to his own surprise and extends a hand.

"I'm Gojo Satoru, you can just call me Satoru." He says, eyes hidden behind a pair of round sunglasses, his bright smile plastered over his face.

Your hand timidly meets his and shakes, "I'm y/n, I just transferred here literally this morning." You shift your weight to one foot, already feeling too open from the way he's staring at you, but you smile back at him anyways.

The tension is thick, Shoko awkwardly shuffling beside you. Suguru is thankfully unaware of this and continues to ramble about whatever else they had managed to come up with in conversation.

Thankfully, Shoko speaks up between the two men for you, refusing to stand here and watch Gojo semi-ogle you while trying to hold a conversation. "Anyways, I'm going to finish showing y/n to the science and art departments, you two dorks can kiss or whatever it is you do."

Your wrist is enveloped by her hand as she drags you around the men and down the sidewalk, the both of you opting to ignore the protests of the duo behind you.

For some reason you can't put your finger on, you glance back towards Satoru, only to find his eyes already on you.

Satoru's eyes follow you, watching Shoko drag you to the north side of campus where the rest of the buildings were. He doesn't realize he's been tuning Suguru out the entire time, well, up until he interrupts the long haired man mid sentence.

"So does she have a phone number or....?" Satoru drags the question out, turning slightly to once again face Suguru, who's expression is one of mild annoyance.

"Yes she does, why are you asking?" He crosses his arms and cocks an eyebrow, almost in an interrogating way, causing Satoru's arms to shoot up in defense.

"I just figured if she's going to be friends with both of my best friends, I might as well be her friend too. Think it'd be pretty awkward if I wasn't her friend, actually."

Suguru sighs, but can't really fight the logic. Tapping away at his phone, he sends your number to Gojo.

"Don't fuck up man, she's new."

Later that night, after finally settling into your dorm and becoming acquainted with your roommate, your phone pings.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Grays II

Frankie Morales x f!reader

{ Grays - Part I | Grays Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E (18+ only)

Summary: Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’

Warnings: Insecure Frankie in need of self-love comes with his own warning, Reader is a hairstylist and has a related nickname, matchmaking elements, meddlesome mother, lots of teasing, not-quite-friends to lovers dynamics, mentions of hair, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, oral sex (F and M receiving), protected sex, dirty talk.

Word count: 8.5k

Notes: It's here - 4 months later! First of all, thank you so much for the love for Grays Part I. I still can't quite believe the reaction to Frankie and Shiv, you guys sure know how to make a writer feel special 🥰 This one was so much fun to write, and nervous as I am posting this follow-up, I'm telling myself to let go of my insecurities and just enjoy it because that's what it's all about. I hope y'all will have a good time at this wedding with the gang 😘

Francisco Morales likes to think of himself as a reasonably competent man. 

He can pilot a helicopter under intense enemy fire. He can take out a target from miles away in the tightest of spots. 

But he can’t do his fucking hair.

He glares at himself in the mirror. He can’t put his finger on it, it just doesn’t look like how you did it. He’s already washed it out and started over twice, and for a second, he considers driving to your salon. A quick glance at his watch tells him it’s far too late for that now.

Leaning over the sink, he says to his reflection, ‘Focus, pendejo. You can do it.’

He’s a pilot for fuck’s sake. He’s a man of procedure, he can follow steps. He just needs to break it down.

Hair half-dry - check.

Hair mousse applied - check.

Now he just needs to dry his hair all the way and style it - but the how is where it gets hazy. 

Frankie closes his eyes and casts his mind back to your salon. He’s sitting in the chair and you’re standing behind him. He wills himself to recall what you were doing with your hands, but all he remembers is the scrape of your of your fingertips on his scalp, the ghost of your breath on the back of his neck, and then -

Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.

He scrubs a frustrated palm down his face when his cock twitches in his haphazardly ironed dress pants, not for the first time… hell, not even the fourth time since he left your salon on Wednesday afternoon.

‘Goddamnit,’ he bites out, dropping the hairdryer with a clunk and grips the porcelain sink. He needs to calm the fuck down. 

He didn’t ask for - this, whatever this is. You’re you. You’re Shiv. The loudmouth with the wild hair he’s known since fifth grade. The fourth wheel at guys’ drinks when Will can’t make it. A relentless tease on a good day, and downright insufferable when you get enough tequila in you.

And quite possibly, the only person who’s ever driven him to the brink of unconsciousness with just the touch of their bare hands.

Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. Maybe you’re right. It has been a while since he’s been with a woman. He just needs to get laid at the wedding, get this weird tension out of his system. And then hopefully, he’ll be able to go to sleep without being kept up by you telling him to go harder, deeper -

By the time he gets his head out of his ass, it’s too late for second-guessing. He rakes his fingers through his hair, sets it with hairspray, and quickly rubs the beard oil he bought in town yesterday into his whiskers. He takes a moment to look himself over while he clumsily does up the tie he borrowed from Pope.

This is as good as it’s gonna get.

He’s the designated driver tonight. By some miracle, he’s only five minutes late when he cruises into Pope’s driveway, where all three of the boys are waiting and sipping on beers.

‘Damn Fish, you look good,’ crows Santi as he climbs into the passenger seat, patting him on the shoulder. ‘You should get your hair cut at Shiv’s from now on.’

‘Only if you keep paying for it,’ retorts Frankie while he backs out of the driveway. He pauses as he changes gears, and adds in a grumble. ‘She’s making me use shampoo and conditioner.’

Pope barks in laughter, twisting in his seat to give Benny a knowing grin. ‘Someone had to, you caveman.’

The younger Miller brother ribs good-naturedly, ‘You ready for some action tonight, Fish? I brought some extra rubbers just in case.’

Meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror, Frankie rips into him mercilessly. ‘You know your small ass condoms don’t fit me, Benjamin.’ 

The car erupts with playful jeers, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked smile as he palms the steering wheel.

‘That’s some fighting talk, Fish!’ goads Santi, punching him on the arm.

Will joins in the banter. ‘You better watch out, little bro. Big Dick Morales came out swinging tonight.’

Benny grins. ‘Ok, I see how it is. Let’s make it interesting, Fish. Whoever picks up a one night stand first wins a hundred bucks.’

Frankie shrugs in mock nonchalance and quips, ‘I mean, I can use the cash. Shampoo ain’t cheap.’

Benny chuckles and clasps his shoulder. ‘You’re on, man.’

It’s eight on the dot when you lock up the salon. While you did RSVP for wedding drinks - opting out of the sit-down dinner earlier in the evening - you hadn’t planned on actually going. But it seems like the whole town did, you’ve barely had two customers walk through the door all afternoon. 

So you let Ashton go home early, and after a quick snack, you take your time getting ready. Might as well have a Saturday night out - your first in many months.

The hotel is just a short Uber ride away. When you climb out of the car, you bite your bottom lip at the unfamiliar tension humming under your skin.

Nerves.

You’re nervous.

And worse, you know exactly what you’re nervous about. 

Or more precisely - who.

‘Pull it together, Shiv,’ you mutter under your breath. Steeling yourself, you stride into the hotel.

From his vantage point at the bar, Benny watches in amusement as Frankie glances towards the doors of the reception hall yet again. He doubts the pilot even knows he’s doing it, or at the very least, he doesn’t think that anyone would notice.

Grabbing his beer, Benny sidles up to his friend. ‘Looking for something, Fish?’

Frankie takes a sip of his Coke and feigns nonchalance. ‘Yeah, looking to win that hundred bucks from you.’

‘Dunno ‘bout that. I don’t see you trying very hard.’

‘Biding my time, Miller. Just make sure you have enough cash to -’ 

When Frankie breaks off in the middle of his sentence, Benny doesn’t need to look to wager a guess what caught his attention.

Turning around as you approach, he flings his arms out to give you a hug, eyeing you up and down appreciatively. ‘Babe, look at you all dressed up! Doesn’t she look nice, Fish?’

In lieu of an answer, Frankie stares intently at some invisible spot over your shoulder until Benny elbows him right in his stomach, jerking him out of his trance. ‘Fish?’

Frankie clears his throat and stutters. ‘Um. I - I don’t know.’

You arch an eyebrow at him. ‘You don’t know if I look nice?’

Benny has to stopper his mouth with beer so he doesn’t laugh out loud at the panic on Frankie’s face as he fumbles for a response. ‘I mean. Um, nice… pants?’

‘It’s a jumpsuit, Morales. Try to keep up,’ you reply and take two steps towards him, which has him backpedalling so fast that he upsets the table behind him, sending half-empty glasses spilling wine all over the white tablecloth.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he growls at you like a cornered stray.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you pull him upright by his tie. ‘Is he ok, Ben? He’s even jumpier than usual.’

‘Well, it’s a funny night for him. Watching his ex get married and all.’

‘I swear to God, Benjamin Miller, if you don’t shut the fuck up -’ 

‘Pipe down, Morales, we’re just messing with you,’ you shush him, tugging on his slightly skewed shirt collar to set it straight. ‘Can’t believe you own a tie.’

‘Borrowed it from Pope,’ he grunts without making eye contact.

Smoothing the lapels of his slightly crumpled suit jacket, you probe, ‘You’ve been using shampoo and conditioner like I asked?’

Frankie huffs a dry laugh. ‘I don’t remember you asking.’

‘Someone’s mouthy tonight,’ you tease. ‘And the beard oil?’

He concedes with a sigh. ‘Yes, Shiv.’

‘You look good, Francisco,’ you grin and reach up to push his curls back from his eyes.

He looks away as he admits, ‘Took three fucking tries.’

At least he holds still when you make small adjustments to his hair, shoulders stiff with hands stuffed deep into his pockets. You catch yourself missing the way he leaned into your touch in your salon, and you have to forcefully push that thought away as you push your fingers through the roots to boost the volume. His curls feel softer already than you remember them, with a noticeably healthier sheen. 

After a final rustle to loosen up his fringe, you wink at him. ‘Mark my words, the bride will rue the day she dumped your ass when she sees you.’

A voice from behind you interrupts. ‘It’s a bit too late for that now, isn’t it?’

Trading a look with Frankie, who gives you a sarcastic thumbs up, you put on a smile and turn on your heels. ‘Mrs. Morales, it’s been too long!’

‘I see you haven’t dyed my son’s hair like I requested,’ she says by way of a greeting, drawing you into an embrace.

Frankie’s taunt is so quiet that you nearly miss it. ‘Told you she’d come after you.’

Without skipping a beat, you elbow him in the ribs, ignoring his pained oomph from behind you. ‘You look wonderful tonight, ma’am.’ 

‘You can’t sweet talk your way out of my question, young lady.’

You cross your arms with a sigh. ‘I didn’t dye it because he looks good with the grays.’ 

‘Well, I don’t think so.’

‘In my professional opinion, he does,’ you retort pointedly.

‘If he looks so good, why is he still single?’

Frankie throws his hands up in exasperation. ‘Gee, thanks a lot ma.’

You turn to Benny, who has been silently watching you two spar. ‘What do you think, Miller?’

He dithers, eyes darting around in desperation until he spots Santi and his older brother coming back from the bar. ‘Look! Here are the guys, let’s ask them!’

‘Ask us what?’ asks Santi, giving you a kiss on the cheek and a glass of bubbly.

‘Do you think my son looks good with the grays?’

Your eyebrow twitches when Mrs. Morales carelessly ruffles his hair to emphasise her point. To your surprise, Frankie bats her away with an irritated ma!, before hastily rearranging it.

‘Your honest opinion, if you please,’ you add.

The boys hum and haw, sipping their beers and shooting uncertain looks between you and Mrs. Morales, clearly uncomfortable being caught in the middle. Upping the heat, you narrow your eyes at them, and Will folds first. 

‘Yeah, I mean - he looks good,’ he mumbles, avoiding the Morales matriarch's glare.

‘Pope?’ you prompt.

‘Cabrón rocking those grays,’ he nods supportively.

‘Ben?’

‘Uh huh,’ he replies vaguely, but at your menacing glare, clarifies, ‘Yes, I meant - yes, ma’am.’

Mrs. Morales scoffs. ‘They’re men, what do they know! I don’t see him catching any girls’ attention.’

Ah, that’s the easy part. You look around, scanning the crowds - and bingo, you see a brunette staring openly from across the dance floor. You hold up a finger for dramatic effect. ‘Excuse me for one second.’

Frankie looks ready for the earth to swallow him whole by the time you return with the said woman in tow. Pointing straight at him, you ask, ‘Lucy, this is Frankie. Do you think he’s hot with the grays?’

To her credit, she’s a good sport, and plays along with a cheeky wink. ‘Yeah, he is. You wanna dance, handsome?’

‘Yes, he absolutely does!’ you answer quickly before he can get a word in.

‘What the fuck, Shiv?’ Frankie seethes through clenched teeth, literally digging his heels in, but to his despair, his shoes skid uselessly on the tiled surface as you push him towards the dancefloor with this complete stranger. 

Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’

‘Have fun, Fish!’ calls out Pope impishly, which earns him an emphatic middle finger. 

You beam at Mrs. Morales smugly. ‘And that’s how it’s done.’

‘You better keep it up, young lady,’ she says over her shoulder as she turns to leave.

You raise your drink. ‘Don’t you worry, Mrs M. I promise you - he’ll be leaving with his future wife tonight!’

Santi is minding his own business, sipping on his beer as he stakes out the ladies, when a hand shoots out from nowhere and snatches the bottle from him.

‘What the fuck, man?!’ he bristles indignantly.

Frankie polishes off the drink in one mouthful, before slamming it onto the table and demanding, ‘Where’s Shiv? I’m done. I’m not fucking dancing with anyone else.’

Pope jerks his thumb to the other side of the room. ‘She’s arguing with your mother.’

Frankie flops into a chair, the dress shoes that he never wears are pinching his feet and he fights the urge to kick them off. He folds his arms across his chest petulantly, one palm over his mouth as his eyes wander across the hall to you, where you’re gesturing madly at his ma, embroiled in an impassioned discussion, probably still about his damn hair.

You’re all dressed up tonight, which is new to him - he’s only ever seen you in jeans when you go out drinking with them, and he’s certainly never seen so much of you. The ‘jumpsuit’ (he learns something new every day) is black and cut low both front and back, and fuck, all he sees is soft skin and the dip of your curves and red lipstick -

Pope must have nipped to the bar while he wasn’t looking, and a fresh bottle of beer appears under his nose. Glancing up at his best friend, Frankie mutters, ‘Thanks.’

‘You can’t marry her, Fish.’

He chokes violently at the casual non-sequitur, spraying beer everywhere. ‘What the fuck, Pope.’

Santi beams. ‘You got that look on your face, man. I’ve seen that look before.’

‘I don’t have a look on my face.’

He chuckles, mostly to himself. 'Damn, I really should've seen this coming.'

‘What are you even on about -’ Looking up, Frankie spots you making your way over and panics. ‘Shut the fuck up, pendejo.’

‘Why aren’t you dancing, my little debutante?’ you ask when you come within earshot.

Santi chortles and takes his leave, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Good luck, Fish.’

You sink into the empty seat next to him and he deliberately twists his body away from you, drinking deeply from his bottle to drown out Santi’s words ringing in his ears. 

‘So, I heard you have a bet going on with Benny. I want splitsies if you win.’

Frankie rolls his eyes, staring resolutely anywhere but at the swell of your cleavage. ‘No.’

‘40/60.’

‘Fuck off, Shiv.’

‘30/70?’ you counter-offer.

He sighs. ‘You’re impossible.’

Ignoring him, you jump up with a happy squeak when someone Frankie vaguely recognises as a girl who used to be in your class approaches with a shy smile. You pull her close by the crook of her arm and ask, ‘Morales, you remember Sadie?’

He tries not to scowl too openly as he too gets on his feet. ‘Sure, hi Sadie.’

Herding them towards the dancefloor, you grin, ‘Go dance, get reacquainted.’

As he passes by you, Frankie grits his teeth and curls his fingers into the meat of his palms to crush the urge to reach out and touch you. 

But it’s easier to fall into your well-rehearsed roles, to toe the line that has been drawn in the sand since you were teenagers. And easier is certainly the safer option when it comes to you.

So he throws you a deliberate glare over his shoulder, with a deadpanned, ‘I hate you.’

You blow him a kiss and grin wider.

Frankie can’t hold back a relieved sigh when the interminably long song finally ends, and the woman he’s dancing with - he won’t even pretend he remembers her name - tucks his phone back into the pocket of his jacket after tapping in her number. ‘Call me, gorgeous.’

He stopped counting after the eighth woman you shepherded his way. This is it. He’s not above hiding in the toilets if that’s what it takes to make this stop.

Except he’s not quick enough. He spots you out of the corner of his eye, marching straight towards him with a fresh glass of water and a look of purpose on your face.

He doesn’t exactly know what came over him. He could probably blame it on the one and a half beers that he downed, or being pushed to the end of his tether. Whatever it is, there’s something he has to say to you, and it can’t wait.

You push the glass into his grasp. ‘Here, hydrate.’

‘Shiv -’

You’ve already swivelled around, your focus somewhere else. ‘Where is she? She was literally just behind me -’

‘Shiv -’

‘Mind you, she’s a sweet girl, but clearly not the brightest tool in the -’

His patience snaps, and he barks, ‘Shiv!’

You spin around, brow furrowed in confusion, and snarl back, ‘What?’

Frankie pauses, and you blink as his warm eyes hold yours. On an exhale, he says, ‘You look nice tonight.’

You’re vaguely aware that your jaw has gone slack, but only because his eyes follow the movement, dropping to your mouth. He considers you for a moment, head tipping just slightly to the side as he watches you. Then, satisfied that he has your attention, he brings the glass of water to his lips, throwing his head back as he drinks. 

Your breath catches in your throat when his Adam’s apple bobs with his swallow, before he leisurely swipes his lips with the back of his hand.

Except in your mind, it’s not water that he’s wiping from his mouth.

In a perfectly mirrored imitation of what transpired between you earlier in the evening, he takes two measured steps forward, prompting you to back up against the table behind you. The tinkle of glasses falling over hardly registers in the back of your mind. 

The fabric of his suit is cool on your skin, brushing your bare arm as he looms over you, so broad and warm. Though his front barely makes contact, your peripheral vision gives and all you can see is him.

‘What are you doing?’ you croak the same words back at him, hating the way your voice shakes.

Frankie smiles - really smiles at you, with no colour of the usual irony or sarcasm. Warmth settles into the creases in the corners of his eyes as he holds up the empty glass. ‘Just putting my glass away,’ he says coolly, an edge of cockiness at your tragically obvious reaction to him.

You feel your cheeks heat up as he does just that - the back of his hand bumping into your forearm as he moves, the breadth of him pinning you against the table. He doesn’t pull away, clearly basking in the way the tables have well and truly turned -

‘Hi! You must be Frankie, I’m Jan.’

Frankie squeezes his eyes shut in irritation at the voice behind him, nostrils flaring as he collects himself. A resigned smile tugs at his lips, and he tips forward, his words grazing your ear. ‘Catch you later, Shiv.’

You only let your knees buckle when he’s safely out of sight.

You’ve barely stepped back into the reception hall from a much needed bathroom break to clear your head when someone grabs you by the arm, tugging you onto the dancefloor.

‘Benny!’ You reprimand, stumbling over your feet. ‘I’m busy.’

‘Relax, Shiv. Frankie can survive on his own for a second.’

‘You’re just jealous that he’s hogging all the ladies’ attention.’

He scoffs, palms on your waist as he sways to the music. ‘He has an unfair advantage, ok? How do I compete with the bride’s ex?’

Clasping your hands around Benny’s neck, you catch Frankie’s eye over his shoulder. You wink at him casually, having somewhat recovered your bravado - it’s easier to pretend from a distance anyway. He rolls his eyes at you over Jan’s head, but he doesn’t look away, watching you with a hint of something you can’t quite make out.

Glancing up at Benny, you ask a tad bashfully, ‘I know we give Frankie a hard time about all this, but is he - ok?’

‘Why don’t you ask him yourself?’

You hesitate. ‘Well, we’re not exactly that kind of friends.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know, the kind who sit around having heart-to-hearts and painting their nails.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘What kind of friends are you, then?’ 

‘I don’t know, he probably doesn’t even count me as one,’ you admit. ‘He barely tolerates me on a good day.’

Benny shoots you a cryptic look, but before you can quiz him on it, he changes the subject abruptly. ‘Can I swing by the salon tomorrow morning? I have a promotional shoot at half past eleven.’

‘As long as you bring donuts and coffee.’

He twirls you around. ‘Deal.’

Frankie slinks out of the hotel, somehow managing to dodge both you and his mother on his way out, which he takes as a win.

It’s cold outside. He inhales deeply and feels it burn down his throat. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he watches his breath mist in front of his face, savouring the quiet.

‘Hey.’

His shoulders stiffen. He knows he should’ve been the bigger man. Should’ve sought her out first, to congratulate her.

Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.

When he turns around eventually, she smiles brightly at him, her engagement ring catching the lights.

Closing the space between them, he presses a kiss to her cheek. ‘Congratulations. You look beautiful.’

‘Thank you,’ she replies. ‘I’m glad you came. Your mum too - it was a long way to travel.’

His gaze falls to his shoes. ‘Yeah, well. You know she loves you.’

‘How are you?’ she presses on, always one for polite conversation. ‘Are you seeing anyone?’

Frankie shrugs but doesn’t answer.

‘Just because it didn’t work between us doesn’t mean I want you to be happy.’

He nods slowly. ‘I appreciate that.’

She points behind her. ‘Well, I should go back inside.’

‘Of course. I’m happy for you,’ he says. And he means it.

The hotel doors swing open, and Frankie looks up at the sharp clack of heels on the concrete. You pause at the sight of them by the curb.

‘Are you leaving, Shiv?’ the bride laments as you walk over to give her a hug.

‘I am, I’m afraid, gotta open up shop early tomorrow,’ you pull back. ‘Come by the salon any time, my treat.’

Once the bride is out of earshot, you turn to Frankie, hands on hips. ‘Alright, no more shirking, Morales. Get your ass back in there, your mother is on my case again.’

He folds his arms across his chest. ‘Oh no, I’m not going back in there without you.’

You sigh dramatically. ‘Am I the only one in this town who’s not scared of your mother?’

‘You should be,’ he snorts, then nods towards the parking lot. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’

Taken aback by his offer, you hesitate. ‘Um - I thought you were the designated driver for the guys tonight.’

He brushes off your concerns with an easy shrug. ‘I’ll come back to get them after I drop you off.’ 

Typical Frankie - he walks off without even glancing back to see if you’re coming with him.

You smile to yourself and follow.

You must be drunker than you realised, because you’re staring. Again. For what must be the fifth time in the ten-minute drive.

It’s a lot of staring, even for you.

His jacket lies abandoned in the backseat, his tie jostled loose and the top two buttons of his shirt unfastened, sleeves bunched up to his elbows. You watch from the corner of your eye as his left hand grips the top of the steering wheel steady, fingers flexing every now and then on straight stretches of road.

As if you’re not already discreetly squeezing your thighs together, he’s also rubbing his right palm idly on his leg, the innocent rustle of fabric against skin getting you far too hot and bothered under the metaphorical collar. 

And then - your eyes trail higher - settling on the heavy bulge at the top of his spread thighs.

Fuck. You’re definitely drunk.

You mull silently to yourself that you actually prefer him in his beat-up jeans and threadbare t-shirts before catching yourself. You weren’t aware you had any preferences when it comes to Frankie Morales. And you have no business doing so.

Clearing your throat, you break the tense silence. Well, tense for you, anyway. He seems completely oblivious to your inner strife.

‘I’m sorry you didn’t win the bet.’

His lips quirk, but he keeps his eyes on the road.

‘I had another five girls lined up for you, you know.’

He scoffs. ‘No, thank you.’

You reach over to punch him on the arm playfully. ‘C’mon, you know you enjoyed the attention, Morales.’

‘You don’t know me very well, do you?’ he peers at you.

You make a face of disbelief. ‘If you hated it that much, why did you go along with it?’

Cruising into your street, his truck rolls to a smooth stop outside your salon. Frankie kills the ignition, then turns towards you. His answer is simple, and hits you right between the ribs. 

‘Because you wanted me to.’

You force a chuckle in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Since when did you care about what I wanted?’

He smooths his palm over the steering wheel and holds your gaze. ‘Sometime when I wasn’t looking.’

It would be simpler to pretend you didn’t understand what he means. To brush off this pull between you as a champagne-induced episode that you could sleep off. If you did, you could still show up at Tuesday nights drinks next week as if nothing has changed, and carry on.

It would be simpler. So you ask -

‘Do you want to come in for a nightcap?’

Frankie follows two steps behind you as you grapple with the keys on the doorstep. Once inside, the salon is quiet, and you strategically turn on the lights by the backwash, the semi-darkness making it more homey than it would have been if fully lit up. 

‘I would invite you upstairs -’ you pause and add hastily, ‘I don’t mean upstairs like, upstairs in that way - it’s just that my apartment is tiny, and the backwash is the closest thing I have to a couch. Are you okay with beer?’

‘Beer’s good, thanks,’ he answers. ‘Need a hand?’

You shake your head vehemently. ‘Oh god, please no - it’s a disaster upstairs. I’ll be right back.’

The rickety stairs creak loudly under your heels, and once you let yourself into your studio, you fall back heavily on the door, taking a second to catch your breath.

You invited him inside. 

He said yes.

You leap into action, shoving all your dirty laundry into the already full hamper. You try not to think too hard about why you’re cleaning up, you just hope you’re not making too much of a ruckus while you’re at it - because you have a boy waiting for you downstairs. 

Francisco Morales, of all people.

Despite having been in each other’s lives since high school, you’re pretty sure you’ve never been alone with him. Not even once. There’s always a buffer with Pope on his side, Benny on yours, and Will in the middle. And while some find Frankie hard to read, you’ve always known exactly how to act around him. You have an unwritten playbook - you bait him with cheap jokes, more often than not joining forces with Benny to gang up on him. He rolls his eyes and snaps at you to shut up. It’s the longest running show in town.

But this? Alone, after his ex’s wedding, in your salon? You’re going off-script and off-piste. Dangerous enough on a good day; outright stupid after a night of drinking.

Frankie is quick to help when you reappear, armed with beer and a bag of ice, using the backwash sink as a makeshift cooler. Your shoes clatter onto the floor as you settle in the chair next to his. Hugging your knees, you hold out your bottle, which he clinks with his.

‘Did you have fun tonight?’ you ask, rather mundanely.

‘As much fun as one is expected to have at an ex’s wedding,’ he answers with a sardonic smile. Taking a sip of beer, he adds, ‘Gotta admit, you winding up my ma pretty much made up for it.’

‘That never gets old,’ you smirk. ‘Although, I promised your mother you’d leave with your future wife tonight - so that’s a bust.’

You startle when Frankie chokes on his beer, his eyes visibly watering as he thumps a fist on his chest. When you ask if he’s ok, he won’t meet your gaze, downing more of his beer.

Not thinking anything of it, you move on. ‘You know, she sent a bunch of customers my way when I first opened up the salon.’

His voice is still a bit tight from his coughing fit. ‘And I’m sure she’ll deny it till the day she dies.’

‘I can’t figure her out,’ you admit. ‘I can’t decide if she hates me or not.’

‘She doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t understand you.’

You hum, unconvinced.

He nudges your knee with his. ‘She was really proud of you when you opened the salon, you know.’

You toss him a sidelong glance. ‘You talk to your mum about me?’

He’s ambiguous in his answer. ‘She asks after you sometimes.’

‘And how would you have anything to say to her? We’re not exactly bosom buddies.’

Frankie concedes with a wry smile, ‘Benny talks.’

‘Ha!’ you laugh, echoing his words from a few days ago back at him. ‘Benjamin fucking Miller.’

He goes quiet for a second, looking around your salon as if taking stock. ‘It’s pretty amazing that you’ve built all this.’

The unexpected compliment catches you blindsided. You reply diplomatically, ‘Ashton helps me loads.’

Frankie’s eyes widen in feigned surprise. ‘Are you going humble on me now? What have you done to Shiv?’

‘Shut up,’ you grumble good-naturedly, adding, ‘Ben tells me you’re doing really well yourself.’

‘Yeah. I got promoted at work last month, and I’m saving up for a house,’ he replies, a hint of pride in his voice. ‘Things are looking up.’

‘You’re actually acknowledging your achievements?’ you gasp in mock outrage. ‘What have you done to Francisco Morales?’

With a shrug, he leans forward to put his empty beer bottle in the sink, but he doesn’t sit back. Instead, he sways even closer, one palm landing on the leather of your seat next to your knee, eyes darting to your lips. His voice is deep as he rasps, ‘Can I kiss you?’

It would be so easy to say yes, but when have you ever made things easy for yourself? 

Instead, you blurt out, ‘Why?’

Frankie looks amused, like he expected this from you. Slowly, not wanting to spook you, he gently plucks the beer that you’ve barely drunk from your grasp.

‘Because all fucking night, while you were throwing woman after woman at me, I just wanted to have a drink with you.’

He leans in close. 

You stop breathing.

‘Because since Wednesday, every time I wash my hair, I get hard thinking of you touching me.’

Closer still.

Your lungs ache.

‘And because when you told me to go harder, deeper - I nearly lost my fucking mind.’

He’s hovering over you now, and you can almost taste the bitter sweetness of the beer on his breath. He smirks at you, but there’s only warmth and mischief in it when he teases, ‘Speechless for once?’

‘Shut up, Morales,’ you breathe and grab him by the collar of his shirt.

And then you’re kissing him. You’re kissing Frankie, and he’s kissing you back.

It’s messy, and disorientating, and you clumsily fumble over each other until he’s sitting up in one of the chairs, with your thighs on either side of his narrow hips as you straddle him. He’s licking up into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, his hands gripping your sides almost painfully hard.

‘Is this really happening?’ you garble into his lips, ripping off his tie and undoing his shirt buttons as fast as your shaking fingers allow you to.

‘If you want it,’ he mumbles back, loath to pull back from you even for a second to shuck off his shirt. ‘If you want me.’

He kisses you wet and insistent, but he doesn’t push you, waiting for you to make up your mind. Reaching behind you, you tug on the tie that holds your jumpsuit together with a decisive pull, letting the fabric ripple down your bare front and pool around your waist.

Frankie bites his bottom lip so hard it goes white. ‘Fuck,’ he cusses, his grip on your hips twitching as he stares at your tits. ‘Can I, please -?’

‘Touch me, Francisco.’

Your poor second-hand Ikea bed that Benny helped set up when you moved in was not made for this.

This being the way Frankie effortlessly tosses you onto the mattress, his arms flexing with an easy strength that goes straight to your head, as you stare giddily up at him.

His hair - your handiwork - has been well and truly undone, errant strands falling over his eyes as he watches you, his broad frame looming over the foot of the bed. He pulls at his belt, which falls open with a careless clink, and he makes quick work of his now crumpled trousers, kicking them off impatiently.

Your head is swimming, yet somehow, you muster the strength to shuffle towards the edge of the bed, rearranging yourself to sit on your haunches, knees folded neatly beneath you. Boldly, you reach out to slide his dark boxers down his hips, and they fall around his knees and onto the floor. His cock springs free, half-hard and heavy, and Frankie swallows thickly as you tilt your face towards him.

‘I want to suck your cock.’

His eyes close as if he’s in pain, nostrils flaring at your words. Taking advantage of his distraction, you wrap one careful hand around his length, and he jerks violently at the first velvety slide of your palm against him. 

‘Fuck, Shiv -’ he chokes, eyes flying open at the contact, pupils completely blown. He protests weakly, ‘No, stop, need to get you off first -’

You shoot him a lopsided smile, pumping him slowly, your pulse racing at the way you feel him swell in your grasp. ‘Can we not argue this one time?’

You lean forward and, holding his gaze, flatten your tongue and lick your way up the underside of his cock. His breath stutters, one big hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his eyes wide and almost frantic as you press open-mouthed kisses on his sensitive flesh.

With an insolent grin, you tease, ‘You’re a big boy, aren’t you, Morales?’

He whimpers, and you know you have him.

His size is obvious by sight, but you really feel it in the pressure bearing down on the hinge of your jaw as you sink down on his cock, fighting to squeeze the girth of him into your mouth. The guttural groan from Frankie makes your pussy clench, and he tastes like he looks - clean, and all man. 

There’s no way you can take all of him, but you’ll be damned if you don’t try. He’s hot under your touch, muscles pulled taut with tension that you can feel thrumming under his skin as you take your time with him. Focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat, you bob patiently up and down on him, slicking up his length with your spit, working him slightly deeper with every stroke - until you’re so full of him that you gag, hard.

Frankie is slack-jawed when you release him with an obscenely wet pop, spit trailing from your lips to the swollen tip of his cock, eyes wild as swipes his thumb across your puffy bottom lip. 

‘You’re beautiful,’ he declares, almost solemnly.

Slinking down his front, one hand securely around the base of his cock, you take him between your lips again, moaning at the salty taste of his precum, which makes him quake above you. As you swallow his length and pump your fist in tandem, your spit wetting your fingers, you peer up at him through your lashes - nothing could’ve prepared you for the utter wreckage that you find on his face. 

His lips are pulled back, baring his tidy teeth into a snarl as he very clearly struggles to hold himself back from fucking your mouth. You feel every bump and vein in his cock with each descent, the wet squelches filling in the gaps of his low grunts and moans. His grip in your hair stings as he starts panting in earnest above you, and somehow he gets even harder on your tongue, making it harder to breathe - 

‘Stop, stop,’ he wheezes suddenly, pulling back in a hasty retreat that has you whining at the sudden loss of him. ‘C’mere.’

He practically hauls you up against him, kissing you deeply, delving into your mouth to taste the bitterness of himself on your tongue. The world tilts on its axis when he tips you back onto the bed, and holding himself above you, he peels the jumpsuit off, leaving you in just your panties.

‘Gonna eat you out, baby,’ he drawls by your ear, trailing one palm up your body, which stops at your tits and squeezes. ‘Get you good and ready to take my big cock. How does that sound?’

‘Fuck, yes, Frankie, please,’ you beg.

There’s no shyness when he pushes your legs up and apart, and instead of taking your panties off, he hooks a finger under the thin fabric and pulls it to the side, his eyes darkening as he stares down at you.

‘So pretty,’ he praises you lowly. Holding your breath as he sinks onto his front, you breathe heavily in anticipation as his shoulders slot neatly underneath your legs. ‘Look at how wet you are for me. All this from sucking my cock?’

You nod frantically. ‘Frankie -’

Straight to the point as always, he ducks his dark head and drags the broad of his tongue over your clit - and you’re gone.

Admittedly, you have not had the best experiences with your exes. There was always too much gratuitous moaning and too little finesse, and afterwards, they always act like they deserve a medal for failing to get you off. But even if your past lovers had been more adequate in the field, you’re sure it still wouldn’t have prepared you for this. 

Frankie goes about it with a quiet focus that veers on reverential, the intensity in his dark eyes watching you makes your knees weak. He’s obviously picking up signs and reactions from you and adjusting his game plan accordingly, the pilot in him clearly in the driver’s seat. 

Not that he’s silent - far from it, you feel the reverberation in your core with every satisfied  hum deep in his chest, and the occasional, muttered fuck, so wet, want more in between licks and groans. But there’s nothing performative or showy about it, just a forthright competency that has you hurtling towards a toe-curling orgasm.

‘Frankie,’ you whine when you feel it about to hit. ‘Frankie Frankie Frankie -’

‘Eyes on me,’ he slurs against your sopping folds, and you listen - for once - watching him watch you fall apart on his tongue, thrashing in his hold as he grips you harder to keep you in place while he laps you up, until the burn of his patchy beard on your inner thighs makes you arch away from him from overstimulation.

Your pussy is still fluttering when he sinks two thick fingers into you, and he hisses at the way it clenches around him as he fucks you, leaving his digits slicked and slippery.

‘So tight, baby,’ he declares through gritted teeth, working you open for him. ‘Gonna feel so fucking good on my cock.’

You point towards the nightstand. ‘First drawer,’ you pant.

Needing no further prompting, Frankie yanks your panties off and flings the soaked scrap of fabric over his shoulder, then lunges at the cupboard where the condoms are. You scrape your nails over his thighs as he kneels over you, his usually steady hands visibly trembling as he tears into the wrapper and rolls the rubber over his heavy cock. He watches you with hooded eyes and settles between your legs, kissing you desperately as the swollen tip of him nudges at your entrance.

‘Ready?’ he asks, nose skimming yours sweetly.

You wind your arms around his neck, holding him close. ‘Fuck me, Frankie.’

The first push is a tight squeeze, and you can’t help the wince at the slight pinch as he sinks into you slowly. With a grunt of effort, he buries face into the slope of your neck and breathes, ‘Fuuuuck. You ok?’

‘Give me a second,’ you gasp, feeling your walls throb tightly around his length. ‘You’re so big, Frankie.’

He tangles his tongue with yours lazily in a deep kiss, before brushing his way down your throat and sucking on one nipple, making you cry out. He murmurs against your skin, ‘I know, but you’re doing so well for me, baby.’

Shifting your hips, Frankie groans when you slide him in deeper, the friction making you quiver beneath him. ‘Move, Frankie, please.’

He starts carefully, his strokes measured and deliberate, making sure you feel every inch of him as he draws back then sinks back in, exhaling shakily. ‘You feel so fucking good.’

‘Harder,’ you demand when you feel your pussy relax around him. ‘Fuck me harder.’

‘Shit,’ he growls and snaps his hips, drawing a squeal from you as he hits somewhere deep inside. You wrap your legs around his waist, bracing yourself as he drives into you again and again and again, the bedframe hitting the wall with each thrust.

‘So good, Frankie,’ you plead in between hard pants. ‘Keep going. Don’t stop -’

Looking up at him, you admire the way his hair falls over his eyes, swaying with his movement. Absent-mindedly, your fingers wander into his curls and his reaction is instant - he cries out, arching into your touch, his hips faltering as he seems to lose his rhythm. ‘Oh fuck, baby, been thinking about those hands all fucking week, just wanted to feel you touch me again -’

As wrecked as you are on his cock, you smile at his confession and slide your hands languidly in his locks, dragging your nails on his scalp, your chest swelling with pride when you watch his face - dazed and completely wrecked - fucking you so hard that you’re sure the bed is about to break.

When he finds his voice again, it’s your real name that slips past his lips. ‘Gonna cum so hard, oh fuck - I’m gonna -’

Frankie’s thrusting frantically into you, eyes screwed shut until his hips stutter and then - after one perfect moment of stillness suspended in time - shudder after shudder thunder through his body, your name a broken record as he spills into the condom, his scratchy baritone moaning into your neck as the frenzied energy bleeds out of him.

His weight pins you to the bed as he catches his breath, and you play with his curls gently, basking in the rumbling purr in his chest as you run the strands between your fingers. Eventually, gathering himself, he rolls off you to let you breathe, tying the condom neatly and tossing it into the trash can.

For a second, Frankie lies on his side, watching you quietly. You watch him back, casting your gaze over the curls stuck to his sweaty forehead and his broad outline backlit by your nightstand light. Before self-consciousness can settle into the small distance between you, he cracks a smile and quips, ‘You did say I’d get laid even if it killed you.’

You laugh, which makes him grin. One strong arm reaches out to tuck you into his side, securely beneath the duvet. You hum at the tickle of his beard on the back of your neck and the steady rise and fall of his chest behind you.

Right on the cusp of sleep, you sass, ‘Guess you’ll have to split the winnings with me after all.’

Any other day, you would’ve woken up if you heard someone on the stairwell. Hell, you’d hear if they were knocking on the salon door downstairs.

When you’re rudely shaken awake by frantic knocking on the studio door, you realise it’s because your hearing has been impaired by the side of a very warm body smooshed into your ear.

‘Shiv! Open up! I need to leave in fifteen minutes for my photoshoot!’

‘Shit,’ you croak, throat dry, limbs flailing as you try to sit up. ‘I forgot about Benny.’

‘Fuck him’, grouses Frankie, pulling you back into his arms, eyes still closed.

‘I can’t, I promised to help him with his hair. Fuck, do we need to hide you, or -’

‘The door’s thin, Shiv, I can hear him. And we put two and two together when you guys disappeared last night. We're pretty, but we ain't dumb!’

Frankie lets you go with a grumbled Benjamin fucking Miller under his breath, but he visibly perks up when you stumble out of bed naked.

You half-jokingly shield your boobs from his view. ‘Are you perving on me, Morales?’

He smirks, leaning back into the pillows with his hands folded behind his head while he eyes you appreciatively. It’s not fair how his triceps flex deliciously with the movement. ‘Why bother covering up? I’ve seen everything already.’

Trying - and failing - to shoot him a stern scowl, you pull on a robe and yank the door open, nearly careening backwards at the sight of Benny’s grinning face right in the doorway. 

‘Since when did you bang paying customers?’ he demands in lieu of a good morning.

You roll your eyes and usher him downstairs. ‘He’s not a paying customer. He’s on Pope’s tab.’

Benny flops into his usual chair, making it squeak, one eyebrow up as he does the air quotes. ‘Well, I guess we now know what kind of friends you guys are.’

‘Shut up, Miller,’ you gripe, but your mouth twists into a grin, giving you away as you set up.

‘Damn, that good, huh?’ he laughs. ‘I mean, Fish does have a rep, but I've never had insider confirmation.’

You point your styling scissors at him menacingly. ‘Shut up, or I won’t be held responsible if my hands slip by accident.’

Benny feeds you a sugar donut while you work quickly, trimming the ends before styling it, going for a tousled bed head look. You hear the water pipes run upstairs and the carpeted floors creak when Frankie gets up. Trying to play it cool, you only briefly glance up, catching a glimpse of him in the mirror as he makes his way down the stairs in his rumpled shirt and trousers, zipping up the fly when he reaches the bottom.

‘Morning, stud,’ sing-songs Benny, which earns him a slap on the head. ‘Ow! What the fuck, Shiv!’

Frankie loiters behind you for a second, scratching the back of his neck, before pulling you to one side. Not that it affords you much privacy anyway, with Benny wriggling his eyebrows impertinently at the two of you in the mirror.

‘I - uh -,’ he starts haltingly, one hand rubbing at the silver patch in his beard sheepishly. ‘I had a really good time last night.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ you smile.

His voice dipping lower, he asks, ‘Can I take you out to dinner sometime?’

Benny, being the shithead that he is, interjects loudly. ‘Hey lovebirds, I’m kind of on the clock here, if you don’t mind -’

‘She’ll get to you when she gets to you, Benjamin,’ snaps Frankie, one hand on his hip and the other pointing a stern finger at him.

Something about him being so assertive sends heat running up and down your spine. Stepping into his space - beaming when he doesn’t back away - you smooth a palm over the front of his shirt, unintentionally catching the rabbiting of his heart underneath.

‘I don’t know,’ you shrug nonchalantly. ‘Do you intend to come back as a cash-paying customer?’

His eyes flash with want, one hand closing around your hip and he leans down to let his heated words brush by your ear. ‘Not if I can keep paying in other ways.’

Reaching up, you run a hand through his curls, preening at the way he closes his eyes at your touch. ‘Alright then, take me to dinner, Francisco.’

Peering around you, Frankie barks, ‘Miller, I’m cashing in on our bet.’

‘Fuck’s sake. I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,’ he gripes, digging into his wallet reluctantly.

Swiping the bill from Benny, Frankie winks at you before pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth - chaste, but charged with meaning. ‘Looks like you paid for your own dinner, Shiv.’

With a roll of your eyes, you shake your head and playfully push him towards the door. ‘Get outta here before I change my mind!’

‘Yeah right - as if you would now that you know what you’ll be missing.’

You’re not sure which makes your jaw drop - his cocksure declaration or the roguish confidence with which he walks out the door. In either case, Benny howls with laughter as you struggle to stay on your feet, your kneecaps having been rendered completely useless.

Just as Frankie climbs into his truck, Ashton whistles to a stop outside the salon on his wheels. Jaw dropping at the sight of the disheveled pilot nodding at him through the windscreen, he abandons his bike right on the curb and dashes into the salon, the door banging against the wall as he rushes in.

‘Excuse me - what the fuck did I just miss?’ he demands frantically.

You roll your eyes. ‘Calm down, Ashton, it’s not what it looks like -’

‘It’s exactly what it looks like,’ interrupts Benny as he starts singing. ‘Shiv and Frankie sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-’

He breaks off with a yelp when you stuff a donut into his mouth to shut him up, sugar flying everywhere as Ashton picks you up and spins you around, squealing like a banshee the entire time.

‘You guys are the fucking worst,’ you laugh, out of breath by the time Ashton lets you go.

Glancing outside, where Frankie is still parked watching the whole embarrassing episode, he gives you one last wink and an amused grin before he pulls away from the curb.

In an almost exact repeat of the scene from a few days ago, Ashton joins you at the window, and the two of you watch, shoulder to shoulder, as Frankie smoothly steers his truck out of your street.

‘He even drives sexy,’ sighs Ashton dreamily. Nudging you in the side, he adds slyly, ‘You’re in so much trouble, Shiv.’

You grin. You know you are - and luckily, it’s not a spot of bother that you’ll be in a hurry getting out of anytime soon.

Notes: I'm so excited to have finally completed this little two-shot. The two of them have been hanging out in my head all these months, it feels amazing to finally yeet this part into the world! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you had as much fun as I did with these two 🥰 Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ❤️

Now that I've got you here, if you want more of Shiv, I wrote some silly little drabbles of her hair appointments with our handsome Pedro boys for a recent milestone celebration. There are also some fun thoughts that came out of an impromptu Grays sleepover we had last week 🤍

I'm sure we'll see more of Shiv and Frankie somewhere down the line. For now, thank you again, I love you all so much ❤️

[millerscoffee]

Hi brilliant Bee 🐝 can we please get the “do you want my fingers?” prompt from either Frankie or Joel 🤭

hi, sweetheart! i went with joel for this, i hope that's okay! it's a little longer than i intended, so i just want to say – please don't take this personally, everyone else! i'm a sucker for joel and got carried away. sue me! i could've gone longer, and i'm showing great restraint! tehehe. i hope y'all enjoy ♡

take me on

1710 words | joel miller x inexperienced f!reader

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: age gap (joel: late 50s, reader 28), reader is a virgin/late bloomer (right on time bloomer if you ask me), fingering (f receiving), pet names, praise kink

A/N: this is part of my 500 followers celebration running until 9/9 ♡

To put it simply: you were embarrassed.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with anyone in your years of life, you just hadn’t found the right time or person.  Living in Jackson was more comfortable than most places, but it wasn’t like it was easy meeting people – not necessarily a lot of new people to meet.

And that’s when Joel Miller showed up.

He was moody, his time was spent scowling at others while keeping close to his family… for the most part.  Sometimes he was scowling alone when the waters were rocky.  But when he saw you, the subtlety of his features softened: his shoulders, his eyebrows.  It was something you didn’t pick up straight away, but iteration made it obvious.

Like the one night Joel was in the middle of an argument just outside The Tipsy Bison, when he saw you show up.  He was presenting to be a different person around you – his words fell off to the side, and he opened the door for you without a word.

Of course, he continued the fight the very second the door closed behind you.

A grin splayed over your face.

A few days passed, built up until Joel found the courage to speak to you.  And that burn was just as slow.

A small crowd of people left until the two of you were on either side of a bench.  His eyes met yours, wide and curious.  His larynx buoyed upon swallowing, a grunt slipped through his nose.

“Hey.”

Man of a few words.

But it didn’t take long for the two of you to strike up a conversation, and even shorter for you to learn the pathways that it took for him to unravel for you.

That was a month ago.

Now, you find yourself in Joel’s house, nestled up in his room.

There had been a couple of times leading up to this point.  You’ve kissed, you’ve spent hours heavy petting.  Joel calling you darlin’, wanting more of you.  He understands that you’re nervous, but he is but a carnal being at the end of the day.

So are you, you’re finding.

And you know it now underneath the dark duvet, the desire you cannot contain.  The slick rising between your legs.

“Joel,” you whisper: lips chaste, thighs quivering as he settles between them. “I- I want you.”

These are the words he’s been dying to hear, but still you watch his gaze shift – fire and flame, eagerness and concern.

“What can y’take?”

You swallow a whimper at his attentiveness.  His desire to take care of you.

“I don’t really know,” you bite your cheek, and god, it’s silly.  You should know what you want by now.  You’ve built up so much momentum for this moment, even before Joel was in the picture, and now that it’s here, you freeze.

“Hey,” Joel’s palm soothes over the side of your neck and your pupils blow wide at the sensation, the observation, the unmentioned praise. “You don’t gotta know.  We’ll go slow, alright?”

You nod feverishly, your hands exploring – timid and clumsy – over his sides through his flannel, and fuck, he loves that.  Loves the sensation of your delicate grazes exclaiming their inclinations for him.

“Okay,” you muster it, and Joel helps you undress.  Clothing is off of you until you’re in your underwear and top on his bed.

It’s slow, this process.  He takes his time.  Admires you with kind eyes, with soft words, with grunts and muttered damn’s.  A good half hour of this build up, of his lips on your skin.  Of him taking his time with you, to work you up, to make you feel safe.

And you are rattling for him.

“Joel, I–” you don’t mean for it to sound like a moan, but his ears perk up when it happens.

“Talk t’me, baby,” you shudder at his big palms crossing the landscape of your thighs.

“Y-yknow I’ve never, I’ve never.”

You can’t get it out.  Twenty-eight.  A virgin.  Never been naked for someone like this, much less touched.

“I know, darlin’.  And you’ll let me take care a’you?  ‘Cuz we can stop, y’just gotta say the word.”

“N-no!” you feel blood pooling at your cheeks, and that tugs a grin from him.

“No?” He's amused now, but still tender.  His head tilts to gaze between your legs, and lets out a weak whistle. “I know you’re nervous, but do you know how damn irresistible you are?”

And fuck, you’re ruined by that.

“I’m not nervous,” you grin weakly, hips shifting under his gaze.

“Yeah, I know.  So brave for me, aren’tcha?”

��I’m brave,” you breathe the repeated phrase, “I want this.” Hearing just how brave you’re being makes you feel braver than you may actually be.  Sneaky man, it’s working.

“Do you want my fingers?”

Says the man whose fingers were curled under the collar of some man earlier in the day for cutting him off in line for lunch.  How could they be delicate now?

Regardless, it pulls you.  You feel your core pulse at this, your clit tingles at the prospect of being touched and all you can do is nod, “Y-yes.”

That’s all Joel needs.

He shifts on the bed, noises of age escaping from him as one knee is bent on his bed, other foot planted deep into the floor.  Hovering over you, but not in a way that makes you nervous.  It makes you feel cared for.  Your eyes look up, wet and round up to his deep brown eyes that stake their claim over you.

“I’m gonna pull these off now.  That alright?”  he nods in the direction between your legs and you tell him yes before you even realise it.

The cool air against the dampness of your cunt draws a gasp from you and your hand instinctively wraps around his wrist.  “Joel,” you whimper, biting the plush of your bottom lip.

“Good girl,” he coos, nodding in acknowledgement of how intense it is.  “Doin’ so good f’me.  You know that too, don’t you?”

You swallow down, nodding back.  Legs split innately, spreading your mess down your thighs.  “Lord,” he breathes, “You are somethin’ special, you know that?”  you’re speechless, but the peak of your nipples through the fabric speak a lot for you – the breathy sighs, the needy hips.  And he allows it.  Because you’re fresh, you’re new, you don’t need to be demanded.  He wants this right for you.

“Gonna touch you, okay?”  “Okay,” you mewl.  At first it’s your legs, right at the crease; at your hips.  And then, he’s cursing under his breath when the pads of his fingers finally – patiently – run up and down over your folds.  It’s lazy, it’s unhurried, his skin is so hot it throbs you.  The ache is all-consuming, and you could come apart just from this.

“This for me?”  the sounds of your wetness rebound in your ears, causing your brows to knit and whimpers to fill in beside the slick as you bob your head.

“Please, please.  I want to feel you.  Need to feel this.”

You find the words as he finds the green light.

One finger dips down in this tentative headspace.  His eyes flit from your face to your core, and you feel so gorgeous under the gaze.  You swallow then, knowing his fingers are far larger than yours, but you are brave – remember?  And he knows it.  He’s slow, intentional when he grooves over your entrance: the source of your wetness.

He watches you carefully, tempting the digit inside at the very tip and you hiss reactionarily.  It stings.  No matter how turned on you are, this is new and your blood is pumping around his finger.  But you let him know it’s okay, how you can take it.  His other hand pushes your hair back in awe of you, in praise, and gently nudges the finger up.

“So full,” you gasp, almost giggling from the stir.  That sharpness melts into pleasure and you nudge your cheek into his palm as he sits more now.  In front of you, palm traveling down your side to land at your hip, the middle finger tempting to press deeper until he’s at the knuckle.  It’s delicious – cosmic and veracious.

“Tight, fuckin’ gorgeous,” he can’t help but utter and it’s within him rolling his thumb over your clit do you feel the pressure inside you build.

It’s strange, too.

You don’t expect the feeling to pull pleasure out of you, but the repetitious movements make your eyes roll back – his skill, and his intent.

“I ca… I c-can’t last, p–”

“C’mon, pretty girl.  You can let go for me.”  He’s so soft like this, albeit in complete control of you.  And that unfamiliar permission sends fireworks from your core, down your legs – your hips rocking up and you inhale sharply at the feeling of him moving in deeper from that.  “Joel!”

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, but makes light work in keeping the focus on you, on fucking you through it.

And it’s not that you haven’t orgasmed, but you didn’t expect to – not within your first experience with someone else.

But you’re quickly understanding Joel isn’t just anyone else.

His eyes are hungry, grunts spilling from him as he absorbs this.  Just nodding – at least you think he is in between your eyes screwing shut, and the ringing in your ears.  You’re flashed with white hot pleasure, and you don’t want it to end.

“That’s it, sweet girl.  That’s right.  Look so pretty cummin’ around my finger like this.  Sound so pretty for me, too.”  And just before you become too sensitive, he slows down.  Takes his thumb off of your clit, the vice grip you have on his thick finger makes it difficult for him to pull out – but he manages just fine.  A pleased grin plucking him.

“Wait.  Are you okay?  Do you need anything?”  You shift, realising that he hasn’t been addressed, but he’s quick to shake his head and clean you up.  Those rough hands that have done mean things are so gentle as they place the clothes back on your body.  His lips flutter over your forehead.

“All in good time, babygirl.  All in good time.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

here's a wild one for y'all. cw for parental death. names have been changed, it is a kinda specific situation but I think only 1 of my family members is on Tumblr so whatever. sorry it got so long, it's a complicated situation and still VERY fresh so my brain is kinda fried lol.

tldr my dad passed away without a will and we want to give his long-distance "side" gf the house he helped her buy. I'm worried she won't be able to afford the mortgage, but don't really want to give her any of the monetary payouts. WIBTA if my brothers and I kept all of the cash?

so late last week (it's Dec 19 as of submitting) my father (60s M) passed away in a sudden car accident on his way to work. I'm (late 20s ftM) his oldest child, I also have a younger brother (mid 20s M) who we'll call Phineas and an even younger half-brother (almost tween, M) who we'll call Aaron.

so I'd describe my dad as a kind and loving but stubborn and stupid man. I would also guess, based on what I know of his love life, that he was polyamorous but didn't realize it due to his conservative Christian upbringing and didn't know it was an option so instead ended up being...well, kinda an adulterer tbh. this isn't to excuse his actual actions bc they were obviously wrong, but is the way the situation reads to me, a polyamorous person.

Dad had a long distance girlfriend (50s??? maybe??? F) on the West Coast (we live near the East Coast), we'll call her Melody. I met her a few years back when he flew Phineas and I with him to visit her. she's a sweet woman from what I know of her. when I got the news of his passing, I was the one who called her to let her know what happened. (which sucked.)

well, what I Didn't know until I was trying to scrape together travel arrangements (I live 5 hours away from Phineas and my dad) was that he also had a Wife (60sF), who we'll call Patricia. (it wasn't a legal marriage, it was "in the eyes of the Lord" as they said, due to legal complications to do with her social security benefits or something. which is why the arrangements for his death fell onto Phineas and I as his adult children. but if he called her his wife then as far as I'm concerned that's what she is.) he didn't really tell me or Phineas about the full nature of their relationship. Phineas found out bc our dad was spending so much time with her that he'd practically moved in w her, put two and two together and asked her to confirm. I never even knew she existed till all this happened. he had told his parents and siblings about her, and they approved of her. we can only speculate why he kept it so quiet to us, she thinks bc of his history with Real Duds that we'd be upset somehow. idk.

so anyway Patricia knew about Melody. my dad was already seeing Melody when he started seeing Patricia. I don't know what he was thinking when he got with Patricia tbh, can't ask him now anyway, but she knew about Melody the whole time. wasn't thrilled about it, constantly told him he needed to tell her the truth and end things, but doesn't truly hold that against Melody herself bc she didn't know.

Melody, however, did not know about Patricia. he was planning to tell her at some point. kept meaning to. still loved her, didn't wanna hurt her, but was also trying to be monogamously committed to Patricia too. he never got around to actually ending things with Melody before he passed, and as far as she knew he was still planning to move out there and get married to her. he even took out a loan to help her pay for her late mother's house, both their names are on the mortgage and deed.

which brings me to my question. my dad didn't seem to have a will (not that we can find anyway), so Phineas and I are the ones in charge of distributing his various belongings and payouts and such. we both agree that we don't have any use for some house across the country, and Melody is already living in it anyway. imo she should just Have It. however, she is also Pretty Poor. I don't know the specifics of her situation (or, really, much about the complications of home ownership?) but I do worry about her ability to continue to pay the mortgage, assuming that's a thing. we're still waiting to hear about all the details and numbers and have somebody who actually knows about that stuff translate it into layman's terms for us non-homeowners (or in Phineas's case, Brand New Homeowner) so we can get a full picture of how all that is going to work legally speaking.

Dad also had life insurance thru his employer. we are still working thru the red tape at his company to figure out who the beneficiary is, the most likely candidate being me as the eldest child. Phineas and I are agreed that we'll at least be splitting most, if not all, the money evenly between us and Aaron. Patricia is INSISTENT that she doesn't want any of it, she wants us kids to keep it bc unlike some of his exes she never cared about his money (he made GOOD money, but still ended up kinda poor due to both being generous to, and having been taken advantage of by, multiple women since my bio mom died. including having to shell out an insane amount of child support for Aaron despite already having a very active role in his life. like he paid more child support than either I or my fiancee even make at our jobs, while also frequently just straight up directly providing for him where he could). because of his income it's looking like a pretty hefty payout.

however, my brother and I are both pretty poor as well. while we don't know the exact amount we're getting, some are speculating a number that, even split 3 ways, would be Life-Changing for us. we're talking 5 figure amounts, more than I or my fiancee make in a year. like we'll still need to work for a living but, for example, it could be a down-payment on a house or a massive safety net for when I'm out of work (I have a steady job but with seasonal unpaid breaks). it could help Phineas afford expensive repairs for the trailer he now owns, which my dad was supposed to help pay for. in the right account with a decent interest rate, it could be tuition for when Aaron goes to college.

I feel like I Should probably toss some of that money Melody's way, esp since I feel so bad that she's getting the one-two punch of finding out her bf died AND also he had a wife she wasn't aware of. but my brothers and I could really use that money as well. I don't know that Phineas wants to send her any, we're saving that conversation for when we know more of the exact numbers. I don't even know how much Dad was paying towards it, or if he even was anymore. plus--and this is kinda a minor detail--but there's kind of a general vibe I'm getting from the Family (ALL 4 of my dad's siblings AND both his parents are somehow still alive) that Melody is kinda...unliked. they love Patricia and were CONSTANTLY frustrated that he was still visiting Melody and frequently sending her money; I get the feeling they viewed her the same as some of his other gold-digging exes so i think maybe sending her Even More Money would look a little weird? like she's already getting full ownership of a house out of the deal. most of them are in agreement that Phineas and I are the ones who get the final say on the bulk of these decisions but they're...a little pushy anyway.

like I said, we don't know what any of the actual numbers look like AT ALL yet, so it might actually be fine. but WIBTA if we just left her the sole homeowner when she couldn't really afford it, and not send her any money? the consensus will probably show up too late to affect our decision but hey, figured the situation would make for a wild ride anyway (or maybe I just feel like that bc it has been for me LOL).

What are these acronyms?

[panda-writes-kpop]

international love ~ huh yunjin (requested!)

a/n: Merry Christmas, everyone!! my Christmas present to y'all is the promise that I'm working on request, albeit slowly, but I'm getting there. loved writing this fic (yunjin my beloved), and I hope everyone else enjoys it just as much. And to the person that requested this, I hope this is what you were looking for. 🫶

tw: a bit of angst at the beginning that turns into fluff, long distance relationship, a bit suggestive at the end

word count ~ 1.7k

summary: you've been missing your girlfriend, huh yunjin, since she went to Korea to chase her dreams of becoming an idol. now that your career as an actor has taken off, the two of you have a chance to reunite in the city of dreams: NYC.

♡ Masterlist ♡

"Babe."

You snap out of your thoughts at the sound of Yunjin's voice coming from your phone speaker.

"I'm listening, Yunjin, there's just some loud noises going on outside of my apartment." You bluff, hoping she'll buy it.

In truth, you hadn't been listening to her, but you had been thinking about her. She's been away in Korea for a year and a half, and you've been missing her presence as of late. Long distance worked for the two of you, when she wasn't busy with schedules and you weren't busy with your work.

As a rising American star, you had your own filming schedule to deal with. Movie production had just wrapped up for the night, and you know that Yunjin would be starting her day with interviews, dance practice, or whatever else kept her busy throughout the morning.

Whatever it was, she would often have a bit of downtime when the cameras turned off, and she'd pull out her phone and start messaging you. Messages turned into phone calls, and soon you'd find yourself talking to her face-to-face until she was interrupted by her manager, or your agent was calling you to confirm a booking of sorts.

The distance had been rough on you two, at first, but you looked forward to your nightly - and her daily - calls. Still, you couldn't help but miss hearing her laugh in person, the way her lips met your cheek every time you woke up together, or the feeling of her resting in your arms after a long day.

"Are your neighbors still practicing their drums at this hour?" Yunjin throws her head back and laughs, and every bit of you wishes that you could reach through the phone and kiss her at this moment.

There was no drumming to be heard but the beat of your heart in your eardrums, but you played along with her idea - it's better than any lie you could've come up with.

"Yeah, they're still at it. I wish they'd get picked up by a touring 80s band so I can have a night of peace." You draw out your sigh, which gets a stifled giggle from Yunjin.

"I wish I was there with you. I bet you'd forget about all that noise if you were with me." She teases as you widely smile.

"Me too, Yunjin, me too."

An all-consuming silence washes all over the both of you as thousands of words threaten to roll off your tongue.

I wish you'd come back to America. I wish I could come and visit you. I adore everything about you.

I miss you.

"Yunjin-ah, stop talking with them before the manager scolds you again!" 

You hear Eunchae softly scold her older member as Yunjin shouts a reply that the microphone doesn't pick up. 

"Sorry, babe, I've got to go. Same time tomorrow?" She tilts her head, and you nearly lose all composure at the gesture.

"Sounds good, darling. I love you, and I'm so proud of you." You softly say as Yunjin waves goodbye.

"I love you too-"

"YUNJIN-"

The call cuts off before you hear Eunchae lay into Yunjin, and you let yourself smile for a moment before laying your phone on the nightstand. 

Your head hits the pillow as you close your eyes and imagine a world where there isn't thousands of miles between you and your lover.

~

"I have good news." Your lips almost betray you as Yunjin leans in towards you. "I'm headed to New York to do some promotion for the movie!"

Yunjin lets out a scream that would've been ear-shattering if you had been in the same room as her. She happily claps for you as you take a pretend bow.

"That's great! When are you going to New York?"

"Sometime in late October. My agent is working out the details now." You think back to your last conversation with your agent, where they happily told you that you will only have a couple of scheduled events over those two weeks. That means that you'd finally have a break, which was exactly what you needed at this moment.

You just found yourself wishing that Yunjin could be by your side for those two weeks.

Yunjin scrunches her eyebrows for a moment, deep in thought, before responding.

"Can't wait to hear about all of your amazing adventures. You'll take pictures, won't you?" 

"Honey, you know that you're much better at photography than I will ever be," You hold back a laugh as Yunjin attempts to sway you by slightly pouting, "but I'll do my best for you."

The smile on her face reappears as she happily tells you all about her day, and the misadventures of her and the other members over the week.

"You girls sound like you have so much fun together." You comment after her last story, but she notices the way your lips turn downwards before recovering into a soft smile. 

"Is everything alright?"

"I mean, I'm good, but I've been really missing you as of late."

"Aww, I've missed you too." Yunjin glances away from her phone for a moment before looking back at you. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course." You nod as Yunjin sticks her pinky up towards her phone. "What are you doing?"

"You have to promise not to tell anyone."

"Yunjin, this is ridiculous-"

"Promise me." Her voice switches to a serious tone, which sends you backpedaling immediately.

"I promise." You stick up your pinky, and it takes everything in you not to laugh as you both shake your phones in agreement.

"Now that that's settled, I can tell you the good news: we're headed to America for some of our promotions."

"Yunjin, that's so exciting for you and the girls!" You proudly say. "You all deserve it, you've been busting your asses for a long time."

"I also may or may not have heard that we have a scheduled performance in New York..."

Your eyes light up the moment she mentions New York.

"Tell me when and where, as soon as you know. I'll be there, I promise you." Your heart quickens at the thought of Yunjin being near you again, but you know she probably wouldn't have time with all of her schedules.

You gently let yourself down as Yunjin glances away again.

"Oh shit, I'm gonna be late for dance practice. See you tomorrow!" She blows you a kiss before ending the call.

Tonight, you fall asleep with thoughts of Yunjin by your side.

New York, here I come.

~

NYC was the city of dreams. It was the place where you were first scouted, the first set for your first movie, and the first late night show that you were ever featured on was in NYC. You had a love for the bustling city and its endless streams of people, even as some of them pushed you to the side as you walked down the street.

After finishing your first interview with another cast member earlier in the week, you were done with promotions until the weekend. That left you with enough time to see LE SSERAFIM perform a few songs and do a close-up interview with fans. You didn't want to draw any attention to yourself, so you donned a face mask with a pair of sunglasses in order to draw attention away from yourself. Besides a few odd glances here and there, it tended to do the job.

You slipped into the back of the venue, with your agent by your side. They wanted to see the girl they'd been hearing about for months, and you wanted to get the girls a new fan. It was a win-win scenario for all.

The girls came out to loud screams from the crowd, and you absorbed yourself in their energy as you cheered along with them. You spot Yunjin from a mile away, but she won't recognize you. 

You told her you'd be there, but you'd keep yourself hidden. You didn't want to start any rumors between yourself and the girls, considering how badly that could go for either of you. 

Besides, with the help of a begrudging manager, you had something special planned for later in the night.

~

You anxiously await Yunjin in the hotel room while you're dressed in your finest clothes. She was supposed to be back a few minutes ago, the manager assured you, so everything was ready in time. 

You had a spread of her favorite foods prepared by one of your favorite chefs in NYC. You'd also taken the luxury of getting a window-side room that opened up to the busy streets of NYC. The view was breathtaking, but you couldn't imagine anything looking better than Huh Yunjin walking through that door.

You immediately jump to attention when you hear someone fiddling with the doorknob. A few voices come from the outside, and you realize it's her members. They wish her a lovely evening, and you hear the confusion in Yunjin's voice until she opens the door and sees you.

Her eyes widen as she sets aside her luggage in time to receive your hug. She squeezes tighter than you do, and once you're both satisfied, you pull away enough to give her the kiss you've been waiting for.

Yunjin is sweet like cherries and refreshing like the ocean, so you're nearly knocked to the ground when her lips leave yours.

"I missed that," She breathlessly says before letting out a small laugh, "but I missed you more."

She pulls you in to kiss your cheek before grabbing her luggage and heading inside. You quickly close the door behind her before taking her hand and leading her around the room.

"You did all of this... for me?" The surprise in her voice is evident, as is the genuineness in yours. 

"I knew that this might be the last time we see each other for a while, so I wanted to make it special, just for you."

"Just for me?" She's astounded, as if you wouldn't climb a thousand mountains to please her every whim.

"Love, I'd do anything to keep that smile on your face."

Her smile reappears as she drops her luggage off at the bedroom door. Yunjin turns back to you with a mischievous look on her face.

"Since we've got the place to ourselves, why not make up for lost time?"

You don't have to state your agreement before she pulls you in for another kiss. Thousands of kisses are shared that night, the night you won't forget until you and Yunjin are reunited once more.

[n3ptoonz]

Could you do some mk Headcanons (anyone you feel motivated to write about) where their meet the dark version of reader from Dark!Shang Tsung’s timeline, maybe their conflicted because their version of the reader died

randomly selected mk1 character hcs: how kitana, kenshi, mileena, scorpion, li mei, and shang tsung react to the version of their s/o's dark clone post death

this is creative asf ty anon 🫢

warnings: canon typical violence and angst that's about it (gonna hit y'all with the punk tactics)

the dialogue portions are meant to be read in the context of before you and character fight

enjoy!

Kitana

When you appeared in her line of vision, she was immediately heartbroken. She couldn't believe her late partner came back like this after so many years

You died sacrificing yourself for her to live in this timeline. you worked for the royal family for all these years, just to have to take an arrow to the chest due to an assassination attempt

Your skin now had cracks all over it and your eyes glowed red, standing by dark shang tsung's side with a mocking smirk behind your mask. Kitana could barely recognize you and you were only intrigued that she wasn't dead in this timeline

Kitana looked at you with tears in her eyes. The same person who took an arrow so she could live on. She had already taken out clones that looked like her, hell even ones that looked like her own sister and mother. Second pain to that was seeing you approach her with mischievous and evil intent.

"You...gave your life for me...and now you live on as an evil pawn for a man like Shang Tsung?"

"I did? What an idiot. In my timeline, I'm the one who assassinated you, and I still have no remorse."

Kenshi Takahashi

Post losing his eyesight, he could only ever think about how he lost you. How he wasn't quick enough in getting you out of being involved with the Yakuza. How he was one step behind

You died a brutal death simply because you were his partner, and they couldn't risk leaving you alive to tell the story of them torturing you for information, so they took care of it themselves to send a message. And boy, did it send a message

So now, in dark Shang Tsung's timeline, you are resentful of him and want your revenge. However, it was very conflicting for Kenshi: Did he take this version of you out now because he knows you don't actually feel like this? Or...die by your clone's hands to be reunited with the love of his life?

Kenshi stood before you with Sento in hand, but frozen in place. The sound of your voice, the complete change in your demeanor, and even down to how you used to walk (he always knew when you were coming because of the way your footsteps sounded), he was utterly devastated. He only had himself to blame for this moment in time.

"I'm...I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. It's all my fault."

"No need to apologize, past love, I took you out in my timeline, now I've come to finish the job in yours."

Mileena

You died in Mileena's arms. How? Well, you were a little too late in grabbing the serum that calms her down and she went crazy on the closest person to her, literally

Upon barely clinging onto dear life you were able to inject her, but you had lost too much blood. So by the time she came to you were gone. She hadn't cried and wailed this much since her father

Now, as she pointed her Sai at your neck, she didn't know what to do. Even if she turned right now, she couldn't handle killing you in the same exact way two times in a row. Even if evil you was trying to kill her

Mileena breathed heavily as she could feel herself turning, desperately trying to stop herself from mauling you to death. But the way you taunted her made half of her want to turn even quicker, knowing full well this is the dark version of you spewing nonsense to piss her off.

"Come on, Empress, turn. Rip my face off like you did before."

"I don't want to...but if my hand is forced, so be it!"

Scorpion

You guessed it. The classic partner and son loss. You fought tirelessly to defend your home and the Shirai Ryu, but it just wasn't enough. Kuai was also just one step too late

Once he got to you, there lied your lifeless body clutching your son in your arms with a sword through your back. If he just hadn't gone on that mission that day when you said you were worried of being attacked...

Now, the dark version of you relished in the pain and sorrow in his eyes. In your timeline, he was the one that died and you trained your son to be a killing machine

Scorpion's head hung low upon hearing what you've done in your timeline. All this time he promised if he could just see you again, he would apologize profusely and even give his own life for you to come back. But looking at you now, seeing you again with an evil smile and empty eyes you've never worn before made him want to take it all back.

"Want to know something funny? You were the one that died in front of me, and I got our son to do it."

"Training Satoshi to be a killing machine is a sin that not even hellfire can take care of."

Li Mei

You died while on a mission in Li Mei's place to find and gather information that would be of use to the royal house and their next moves on taking down a clan that was after it

Li Mei hasn't properly recovered since. Even to the point where she'll go on solo missions just to avoid anybody else getting hurt. She took extra shifts and extended her personal training time just to keep her mind, but at the end of the day she still crumbled

Now the evil version of you isn't even in the Sun Do. In fact, you actively try to take them down every chance you get just to get to the Li Mei in your timeline--which worked

Li Mei took a fighting stance as soon as you showed up. A piece of her heart broke at the thought of intentionally having to hurt you, but she knew you were long gone now with no shot of saving grace. You dangled your weapon in front of her and showed not one sign of fear.

"You were an esteemed member of the Sun Do, and now you are proudly a disgrace."

"I'll do it again one thousand times over and you can't stop me."

Shang Tsung

Surprisingly, he didn't betray you or kill you himself. You captured the sorcerer's heart, and that was the problem. His followers didn't like how much attention you got, so they formed an organization and took you out when they followed you on a mission

Since then he was on a rampage. He wreaked as much havoc as he could, convinced it was some outside source that held something against him. He only got stronger with anger and deep rooted sadness he couldn't process

Now you blamed him for letting you die when he could've prevented it. Hell, sometimes you felt like it was his idea and his way of getting rid of you as if you were a hindrance to his plans

Shang Tsung couldn't believe his eyes. You, who started walking towards him after you linked arms with his own dark clone. Every emotion he had ever felt bubbled to the surface the second he saw your face. Hurt, anger, sorrow, but mostly confusion. However, knowing the kind of man Shang Tsung was, he wouldn't think twice to rid of your evil clone for good.

"Whoever took you from me will pay, but I will kill you myself before I die by your tainted hands."

"Aw, how the evil sorcerer calls the dark soul 'tainted'"

-

thank you for reading! man this was SOMETHING but it was fun i don't typically write angst

[celestialsoyeon]

I would like to order a Woozi sickfic.Maybe there was a virus in the company and as he usually stays late working he got infected because of his low defenses and when he comes home he feels sick but he ignores it and the next day when he gets up he has a fever and an upset stomach but he decides to hide it during the day. But as the day progresses he feels worse and dehydrated because of how much he has vomited so he ends up asking one of the boys for help and they take care of him and take good care of him.

Hiiii! Here's the headcannon you asked for! I'm not sure whether it's good or not, but I did my best! Happy reading, I hope the person who asked this will like it! Love y'all!

Summary: Woozi always works until late at night at his studio at the company. One night, he feels sick while getting back home. He doesn't think much of it and just tries to sleep it off. The next morning, it's even worse, but he tries to hide it until he can't anymore.

word count: 1,72k

content warnings: sickness, obviously, vomiting, fever, dehydration, kinda delirious/half-conscious, needles/IV

Sickie: Woozi

Caretaker: All the other members, especially Mingyu

Jihoon had been staying late basically every single day since the beginning of this week. He had to. If he didn't who would? And he had a lot of work to do, with the upcoming album release coming up at the end of the month. He had no time to waste chilling or sleeping.

He knew he was pushing himself too hard and that he would end up collapsing, but he didn't care. Not when the group's career could be at jeopardy if he decided to be lazy. He couldn't afford to fall back on his work right now, and he kept working until his eyes were drooping.

When he noticed that, he got up and gathered his things, intending to go back home, deciding that it was enough. He raised his head, glancing at the clock. It was 3 A.M.

He was lucky that Seungcheol had fallen asleep as soon as he got back to the dorms, too tired to even keep his eyes open for five more minutes. He hadn't been sleeping a lot lately, too busy taking care of Seungkwan and his recurring nightmares. Otherwise he would've gotten scolded, as every single time Seungcheol saw him coming back so late at night.

He let out a sigh and walked back to the dorm, putting on his jacket. As he was walking back to the dorm, the only place he would be able to sleep peacefully and get some well-deserved rest, he started feeling uneasy. His stomach was hurting him a bit and he felt a bit sick.

He decided to ignore it. There was no way he'd wake up Seungcheol neither Soonyoung just because he had an upset stomach. Maybe sleeping it off would work and tomorrow would be better?

He just went to bed, careful not to wake Soonyoung up. The dancer was fast asleep and waking him up was really the last thing he wanted. Soonyoung wasn't sleeping a lot either, and although it had always been like that since predebut, Jihoon still didn't want to disturb his sleep. He'd rather throw up all night alone in the bathroom than wake up any of the asleep members.

He laid down in bed, looking at the ceiling, struggling to fall asleep. The pain in his stomach grew stronger. "I'll be fine.. I'll be just fine.. no need to worry them.." He whispered. Soonyoung was too deeply asleep to hear him. And Jihoon ended up falling asleep too. He was too exhausted to even think he'd be able to stay awake for much longer anyway. He hugged tightly the plushie Seungkwan gifted him for his birthday last year, and fell into a deep slumber.

A few hours passed before it was time to get up. When the alarm of his phone rang, Jihoon couldn't help but let out a small whimper. His head was killing him after hearing that sound first thing in the morning. And as if it wasn't enough, his stomach was feeling worse than last night, if it was even possible.

He still got up and acted fine when seeing the other members, despite feeling his stomach churning. Seokmin and Mingyu tried to get him to eat something, but Jihoon just said he wasn't hungry and got ready for work. They had vocal practice in the morning, dance practice in the afternoon, it should be fine, right? He would feel better already.

No. No he didn't feel better. If anything, it got worse.

He still tried to hide it and focus on his work throughout the day, but some of the members were already starting to understand that something was wrong with him. Seungcheol came to check on him, but Jihoon still acted as if everything was fine.

Ten minutes later, he was in the bathroom, throwing up his guts out.

He went back to the others, still acting as if everything was fine.

As they practiced the choreography Soonyoung was teaching them, Jihoon felt even worse and went to the bathroom again. He threw up again, and more than once, at that.

He felt feverish and couldn't even drink. This time, he knew he couldn't hide that anymore. He had to tell them. He had to call for someone. But when he tried to get up, he was too weak to do so. He fumbled in his pockets for a moment, looking for his phone, finding it upon seconds.

But another wave of nausea hit him as he was going to dial Seungcheol's number. He threw up again, and after five other excruciating minutes of throwing up, he could finally call for help.

Seungcheol answered at the first ring.

" 'Hoon? Where are you? Are you alright?"

Given the tone of his voice, he was obviously worried. Very worried. Jihoon answered as best as he could.

"I.. Hyung.. I think I'm sick.. I'm not feeling good.."

"Where are you? I'll get you back home okay?"

"Y..yeah.. I'm.. in the bathroom.."

"I'm coming right away, I'll be with Mingyu, we're getting you back home."

The leader addressed the other members.

"Guys, can someone get Jihoon's belongings and call a doctor to come at the dorm. Tell them we'll be there in around... maybe half an hour? If Hoon doesn't get any worse?"

There was some approving responses from everyone, but Jihoon could barely hear them. He felt more and more tired, that was most likely because of the fever, Jihoon knew it was anything but a good sign. He heard the other members' voices but couldn't understand what they were saying.

Mingyu and Seungcheol both ran to the bathroom, arriving soon at Jihoon's side. Mingyu quickly assessed the situation.

"Uh-oh.. that's not good.. We need to lower his body temperature as soon as we can before he gets delirious or even worse, starts having fever-induced seizures. Believe me, you don't want to have to deal with that shit."

Seungcheol nodded, and held Jihoon's body bridal style, getting him to the van. The motion of the car made Jihoon's sickness even worse and they had to pull over twice so he could throw up again. But after what felt like an eternity, they were back home.

Mingyu carefully laid Jihoon in his bed, and checked on him again. He looked dazed and mumbled incoherently when Mingyu was asking him questions, trying to assess how conscious he actually was.

The answer was that he was out of it. His eyes were open, but he paid no attention to what was happening around him. He didn't mind the cold and wet towels put on his neck and on his forehead. He didn't pay attention to Mingyu shaking his shoulders and call his name. He was there, but barely.

The other members were acting swiftly to take care of Jihoon, preparing soup, water, medications, pillows, plushies. Seungcheol had stayed there, sitting down at Jihoon's bedside, a bucket on the ready in case JIhoon was to throw up again.

He didn't. But he was still very feverish. And that got Seungcheol worried to death. He ended up getting up, pacing nervously in the room. Jeonghan and Seokmin even had to get him out of the room, because he was too stressed out.

They didn't want Jihoon to get anxious or anguished on top of being sick. He was already badly sick, that was enough.

The doctor soon arrived, and just as the members, he looked alarmed by Jihoon's condition.

"We really need to lower his body temperature before he ends up having a seizure. And he needs fluids too, and nutrients."

"He can't eat though", Joshua said in a worried voice. "And even the medications would not stay down."

"We'll have to insert an IV line then. If we don't that might endanger him. But you don't have to worry, we can do it here and he will for sure get better as soon as he receives medication and the appropriate care. His condition doesn't require hospitalization. However, I want that guy at full rest for at least a week. He'll need a lot of rest to recover properly. And if he doesn't get better within the next few days, I want him to get checked properly." The doctor said, looking at them with a gentle but firm stare.

Joshua nodded, reassured by the doctor's words. Seungkwan looked horrified to be told that his hyung would need a goddamn needle into his arms, but the other members reassured him that it wasn't that much of a big deal.

Jihoon would be okay. They all were sure of it. After the doctor administered the necessary care, he left, and all the members relayed at Jihoon's bedside. As the hours ticked by, Jihoon got more lucid, he wasn't that out of it anymore. And that soothed a bit Mingyu who, among the members, was by far the most worried.

He had nearly panicked when the doctor said that Jihoon needed an IV, and Wonwoo had to explain to him, just as Joshua had done for Seungkwan, that it wasn't a big deal and that Jihoon would be just fine.

The first night was the hardest one. At first, Jihoon kept throwing up. But when the medications kicked in, it stopped and soon enough, Jihoon could eat a bit of food. Nothing much, but better than nothing.

Mingyu stayed the whole night with Jihoon, refusing to leave his side, too worried. But he hadn't anything to worry about. Not anymore.

The next day, Jihoon started to get better, though he needed a lot of rest. But he didn't have anything to worry about. His friends, no, his family was by his side to help him through it.

Mingyu was cooking for him, Wonwoo and Jeonghan most of the time keeping silent vigil by his side, the BooSeokSoon trio was usually coming to help him not get bored, and he could get Seokmin's hugs as much as he wanted. He usually didn't like physical touch, but when he was sick, he was basically asking hugs from his brothers. And Seokmin was more than happy to give him.

Little by little, he got better, and as he got better, his bond with his fellow members strenghtened even more than it already was. They would be able to return soon, and in good shape, to their not-so-peaceful but happiness-filled life.

[kikiwooo]

i’m the anon that asked about xavier and fredrinn tag teaming me and i haven’t been brainrotting about fredrinn lately but i’ve been thinking about xavier as a camboy alot 😭 idk the idea just appeals to me. and i’ve been trying to think of other characters that would fit this trope, like i could totally see lancelot, yin and gusion as camboys HAHAHA

MANNN GODDAM Y'ALL HAVE SOME QUITE INTERESTING FANTASIES 💀😭 I kinda didn't liked what I wrote and some parts might be short because I died

notes; gn! reader, camboy! mlbb boys

Gusion

lmao gus after his brother didn't give him enough money or overall he doesn't have enough money for himself, quite pitiful indeed. Let's jump straight into it cuz if I ever go into detail that would be an essay +he's paxley so probably there's like lot who knows him and his ego just wouldn't allow him

He probably does challenges about how big and deep he can take in and people just following cuz he's not only a new face but a pretty one too+he's also stubborn. He reads every donation out loud, also those shitty and troll ones too, he's that gullible but he learns it after it happens a few times. his eyes does go wide and his system stops for a few seconds after receiving big ass donation (while having a big ass dildo up his ass, his challenge not mine) will also smirk if the person who donated him challenge to another thing and says they'll pay him even more if he does this and that, Gus will do it no matter how impossible it is. (is that dragon di-

Will frequently invite you to his streams or videos if you guys are in relationship irl, but if you only watch and donate and maybe sing in membership(he has the silliest emotions of himself) he'll favor that one person(it's you)

Yin

INEXPERIENCEDDD I TELL YOU, but somewhat he's pretty good with those dildos, bro's born for it. Lieh is tired of hearing Yin's sloppy whimpers and half moans which he tries so hard to hide.( They're twins) most of the people favor him and only him cuz he's cute.

He recording videos cuz he heard it from Lieh that one makes so much money from it and only it. Yin was insecure at first so he first talked it with one of his very very close friend(you), but like super duper close, he can't handle anyone else other than you so you're his go to. He's pretty vanilla but from time to time he doesn't skip to try new things (𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂), also somehow gets lots of donations even if he does literally nothing and just sits in front of the camera (you know the deal shh)

But if you're one of his viewers, and probably the nicer one than those of the perverts and just keep him in his ground and offer him to do new things to not lose the attention+also keeping him updated about literally everything going around, somehow Yin even offered you a private video just for you- or just a simple invite (lieh didn't liked that)

Lancelot

ALRIGHTTT, lance is experienced and probably has been in this camboy things for years, he's pretty proud of his own body and shamelessly shows it into the camera without any hesitation maybe that's why he's so popular.

Though he's open to the camera, you can never get anything from him real life, he shuts the topic really fast that you can't even argue back. If you're one of his viewers+have membership probably the earliest one, yeah lance over here has a VIP room for y'all like the first seats of the cinema. Lance cares about what his viewers want because that's where the money comes from, no?

Lancelot is actually fond of tight clothes/gears?? Like how they squeeze is skin so deliciously(he knows his chat loves it, he also himself likes them so win?)

Everyone's literally there for his girly moans what are you talking about.

Xavier

Y'all how we got him on here, 's like we won the lottery???? despite being quiet both irl and in front of the camera, we can hear soft grunts and gasps whilst he's taking it hard(I'm not the one salivating no it's you) AHHHH HE'S JUST, PERFECT??? the way his waist and they way he turns around to check, the way his muscles mmhmmmmhmhmhm. Though he likes you interrupting his streams when you come behind him to tease, he scolds you from after the stream (damn). if one of his viewers with membership, he quietly thanks those people (he whispers, asmr fr) at the beginning of the video/stream, doesn't show much of a reaction at the donates, he's doing it for it anyway, but his eyes will visibly widen whenever reaching such lot donations with cute messages(his fandom is 🎀yes both genders),

He's always sore after the streams and videos, no matter how he took it from low, he always ends up sore which he complains about it, but does he make money? yes so so much and he doesn't thinking about giving it up any time soon.

[soubi122]

Heya hope ur doing great so here's another one of mind dumps

So rindou x a very laid back reader who's very chill and cool with everything and has a bit a hobby for figure skating ( the figure skating is optional)

So he was invited to a friend's house to hang and smoke weed/and drink so he went to the basement and saw you with the weed pot (idk what's it called:']) and decided to join in and u guys were having small talk and rin felt very comfortable with you and had he's arm wrapped around your waist and playing ur hair (y'all got teased a bit but didn't mind it all) late reader helps rindou get to his but was clingy ( horny (⁠☞⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)⁠☞) so reader being chill about took him home with and yk what happens ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ (btw sorry for the bad grammar)

—☁️

Hello my love! I'm so sorry this took a really long time to write. It is finally here, I hope you like it! ❤️

Highs

Rindou Haitani, smut, drug use, alcohol use, unprotected sex, slightly rough. ALL ADULTS, MINORS DO NOT READ!

"So, remind me again…who is going to be there?" Rindou asks a friend who was taking him to a party. As much of a partygoer he was - he still remained cautious. "You know, just chicks and some guys." The friend replies with a carefree tone. His goal was to score a chick and Rindou was the bait. It beats bringing Ran's womanizing ass to the party and having him steal all the women for himself. 

Heading into the house, Rindou noticed that there were a bunch of people he was familiar with - the same people that hit up Roppongi on weekends. Good, so I don't have to watch my back. He thinks to himself. Being taken to a Yakuza hideout once by accident was enough for him to be careful about where he's going, compliments of Kakucho of course. The music was loud, the drinks were everywhere but he had yet to find anyone that could hold his attention. He thought it was going to be a small party, this was quite the crowd. 

Some time passed and he was getting rather annoyed that his friend would ditch him every 5 seconds to chase a piece of ass. After being turned down by half of the party girls, they decided to head to the basement to take a break. Usually the chill folks are down there and would have some aromatherapy to help relieve some stress. "Man, those girls are fucking stuck up." His friend complained as he was walking down the stairs. Rindou could only chuckle at his friend's defeated attitude. The scent of Mary Jane hit them square in the face the moment they were headed down. A small group of people were just chilling on a sofa and floor, completely unbothered by the loud noise upstairs and vibrations of the music. 

Rindou recognized one or two people but the others were complete strangers to him. The strangers began to almost chant "Toke! Toke! Toke!" over and over again when someone was taking a hit of the bong. Rindou's eyes looked over to the person whose head was tilted down and he could hear the bubbling of the water and the sound of someone inhaling. Everyone paused when the bubbling stopped and everything in the room almost went dead silent. When you lifted your head and exhaled through your nose, everyone cheered and yelled. That was the longest Rindou has ever seen someone hold it before. 

"Did you see that shit? That was a good fucking hit." His friend says and introduces himself and Rindou to everyone. Your eyes met his and you smiled while waving your hand at him. The hazy look in your eyes and that cute smile on your face made some warmth creep up his face. They were welcomed into the circle, "Take a seat anywhere you like." You say and reach for the red plastic cup that had beer in it. "You've been babysitting that beer (Y/N)." One of the guys says and throws you a cocky grin. So that's her name. Rindou thinks to himself and plants himself right next to you. Taking it as a 'drink up' hint, you chugged your beer, impressing both guys that just walked in. “So, what brings you two to this lonely little circle of ours?” You say with a hint of playfulness on your tongue. The man sitting next to you was absolutely handsome - you could tell he works out by how the lines of his muscles show through his shirt. 

When his friend took a seat across the floor, you passed the bong to him and the moment his eyes met your face - he paused. The awkward pause made you clear your throat. “Umm, so are you taking a hit or…?” You ask. “Aren’t you that chick that’s constantly on the ice?” He asked and piqued Rindou’s interest. Ah yes, your little hobby painted you as a goody two shoes but in reality you were nothing like that. “You are! Rindou, this is the chick who’s always in the rink at night.” You had no intention of going pro for figure skating but still practiced to get some exercise in. “Ah, the figure skater, right?” Rindou asked and proceeded to take the bong out of your hands. He was so close, you feel the warmth radiating off of him. Those beautiful lavender orbs were scanning every inch of your face behind his frames. 

“Oh - what’s this? You have an admirer (Y/N).” One of your friends said out loud. There was no mistaking it - Rindou was showing his interest in you. The little comment made some pink dust your features. He proceeded to take a hit and keep eye contact with you while he did so. Looks like he was trying to hold it in just as long as you did, and of course - he did. The ambience was super relaxed by the time the bong made its way around the entire circle. Throughout the night, the conversations and jokes allowed Rindou to feel comfortable and rather bold around you. 

“Aren’t figure skaters supposed to be good girls?” He asks and starts lightly toying with the ends of your hair. His finger wrapped itself around the strands and your heart skipped a beat. The first touch gave him an idea of your comfort levels, does he proceed? Your sultry laugh made him want to dive deeper into the rabbit hole with you. “And who says I’m a good girl?” You ask and look at him, both your eyes are glossy and hazy. “Get a room you two. You’re practically fucking each other with your eyes.” Someone says. Both you and Rindou cracked up, it was true - the things you both were thinking about were communicated in looks rather than words. Now that it was out in the open, he slithered his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. The butterflies in your belly were starting to run a little rampant the more he touched you. Rindou kept toying with your hair or lightly brushing your hair back to get your attention back on him when you would talk to someone else.

Several hours of lightly teasing each other and messing around with friends, the sounds of footsteps slowly started to dwindle down, it sounded like the party was coming to an end. Little by little, the circle began to get smaller. People were heading home as it was already 3:00 am. It gave him a little more resolve to continue running his hands alongside your waist and making subtle moves that sent chills down your spine. His large palm began to gently squeeze your thigh, almost as if signaling something to you. You bite your lip and turn to face him. He was not expecting you to tease him in return. “Too bad the night's over.” You say and reach over to take one last hit of the bong before heading out. Inhaling, you closed your eyes and leaned back into the couch - wanting to take your time before exhaling in bliss. Right as you were beginning to exhale, Rindou leaned in, parting his lips and inhaled the smoke that slowly came out of your mouth. He cupped your cheek and connected his lips to yours, giving you a shotgun kiss. Rindou was feeling more than just the effects of weed. He was feeling a tight sensation around his cock.

“Can I take you home (Y/N)?” He asked and nibbled on your lower lip. You could tell he was needy. The entire time he was stuck on you and couldn't keep his hands off you. “Will you make it?” You snicker and run your hand through his hair making him hum. "Everyone is almost gone…we can just stay here." He whispers in your ear and gives a kitten lick to the shell of your ear. "Please…" Rindou's eager tone almost made you feel bad about teasing him. Is this how he is when he's high? Horny and needy? Not wanting to get caught or kicked out, you decided to feed the monster but in your territory. 

Leading him to your place, you kept doing little things like hold his hand or press your chest against his arm so that he could feel your tits. He was already falling apart for you. When you arrived at your door, he couldn't keep his hands off of you. Stepping in, you immediately led him to your room. Next thing you knew, you were both on the bed, rolling around on the mattress. 

 While fighting to be on top, clothes started to fly off bit by bit. Seeing the tattoos that adorned his body, you couldn't help but submit to him, he was gorgeous and toned. You were almost entranced by the fact that his tattoos extended from his collarbone to his arms and down to his legs. "Do I have your complete attention now?" Rindou asks and pouts. "You've had my attention since the moment you sat next to me." You admit and reach down south to stroke him. The way his lips parted and let a moan escape his throat - you wanted to see him completely break. The unholy amount of precum was dripping on your lower belly. He was going to fill you up and have you dripping for days. 

Not wanting to waste another second, you guided him between your folds and let his tip slide in. The sweetest whimper dripped from his lips and you couldn't help wanting to hear more. "…oh fuck… you feel so good." He barely manages to say before you rip another whimper from him as you take him in even further into your core. Being pussy drunk was no joke, once a man tastes a bit of heaven - he will never want to come back down to earth. Pulling him inch by inch, you felt his cock twitch and throb, making you pant. His length alone was enough to have you clawing at his back. Slowly reeling his hips back, you could feel the difference - your walls were spasming around him and trying to suck him back in. 

Rindou was gentle and passionate, kissing your lips each time his tip hit your cervix. His menacing demeanor only applied outside in a world full of strangers. Between the sheets, he was sweet and almost innocent. His lavender orbs were glossy and filled with desire, if you would have let him take you at the party - you were sure everyone would have heard his moans. You met his hips, slowly grinding with him. The more friction on your clit, the more your hips picked up the pace. “...(Y/N), can I go faster?” What a gentleman, asking you for permission to destroy your insides. You nodded unaware of what his next move was going to be. He shifted his position to get on his knees and lifted your hips to get a deeper angle. Leaning in he took your hands and pinned them above your head, there was almost a glow in his eyes when you looked at him. 

In one motion he thrust so deep that you felt a numbing sensation in your spine, making you scream. “Mnh…too deep!” You whimper and try to free your hands. Rindou crashed his lips into yours to silence you. It only took one hand to pin your wrists, the other gripped your hips to keep you in place. His thrusts were hard and fast, it was making your eyes tear up. "Ngh, f-fuck…you feel so damn good." Rindou said once he broke the kiss. You could have sworn you felt your eyes roll back into your skull. The way his length kept hitting the right spot had your tongue almost lolling out. "Look at you…drunk off my cock already. Yeah?" He went from sweet to devilish the moment you gave in. 

"Hah, you're fucking clenching so tight." Rindou pants as he continues to wreck your insides. The way his hand gripped your hip, he left indents in your skin - almost bruising it. It was painful but it didn't stop you from feeling the immense pleasure that he was giving you. His kisses were making you melt, his tongue was dominating yours and you felt the drool dripping down the corners of your mouth. Breaking the kiss you moan out loud, "Rin-aah! I'm - oh god!" The amount of pressure he was putting on your hips had you almost crying. Everything started to get stuporous, the combination of alcohol, weed and sex had you knocking on the white pearly gates. 

Rindou felt how your velvet walls pulsed and clenched repeatedly around his cock. It was feeding his appetite but he had yet to get to the main course. Slowly he released your wrists and cupped your cheek. That sincere and tender gaze gave you but a moment of peace. Rindou pulled out sitting up on his knees - he was towering over you and you couldn't help but feel anticipation. What else can this man do to get you to scream? "Roll over, beautiful…" He says with a smirk on his face. Just as he ordered, you got on your stomach and looked over your shoulder. It felt like his figure dwarfed your own. His broad shoulders that had defined muscles had you in a daze. 

Rindou snatched your hips and lifted them so that you were now on your knees. His right hand gently ran down your spine - he was giving you goosebumps. In one thrust he buried himself inside you, you screamed into the pillow and clenched the sheets. "Fuck, fuck, fuck…your so wet." He moans and keeps a steady pace. Your thighs were trembling as he kept going deeper and deeper. He was bruising your cervix. “Oh god! Rindou, I’m gonna cum!” You moaned and the coil that was tightly wound began to snap. Your incoherent babbles and whines only made Rindou go faster. The satin ring that adorned the base of his cock had him on cloud 9. He too felt his coil snap, it made him double over and lean into your shoulder. Nipping at your shoulder as he emptied himself in your womb, he wanted to keep you full and keep you for more than just one night. 

When you both regained your breaths, you both turned on your sides and he wrapped his arms around you - he was still buried inside you. “Can I stay the night?” He asks and buries his face into your neck. There was no response, only soft snores and slight clenching. For a moment he got worried but when he sat up on his elbows he noticed the smile on your face. Rindou Haitani has a habit of not only knocking his opponents out but of also knocking his partners out too.

END

[polyamorousmood]

Hi I need some advice.

So I identify as poly even tho ive never had a poly relationship before and made that very clear to my girlfriend before we started dating. She said she was fine with it, and that we could always discuss terms when I start to like another person. We've been dating for a year, and I'm starting to like one of our mutual friends. I was excited to tell my girlfriend, but when I did she freaked out about it and said she couldn't do it. Because she was freaking out, I said it was OK and agreed to be in a mono relationship (I often will say anything to get someone to calm down, and I know that's a flaw of mine which is why I was open about everything before anything was at stake). I don't think I am OK with it, but they way she spoke about it sounds like she won't be convinced either.

I feel like I was lied to? And now I'm in this situation I didn't want, but I don't want to break up with her because I do love her. Functionally our relationship is the same as it always was so maybe I can handle it, but I just don't understand why she would have such a negative reaction when she seemed completely OK with it at the beginning.

I mean... maybe she said it was okay when it wasn't for a similar reason you did? Because she wanted to make you happy more than she wanted to dig into the issue? While I understand this probably felt like a major gut-punch after you made a point to be open about it, it seems to me unfair you'd hold her to a higher standard than you're holding yourself now wrt voicing what you'd be okay with.

Anyway, TL;DR: I think y'all both need to "come to Jesus."

What do I mean by that.

You need the classic Uncle Iroh moment

And it really, really fucking sucks, but you both will have to consider if the life you want -- poly for you, monog for her -- is feasible with each other. I'm sorry, I know it hurts even to think about, but even if everything gets worked out, you will have to think about the possibility it won't first.

First, you're going to have to bring it up again, and explain its importance, and explain your confusion, and acknowledge this is clearly difficult for her. I think a strong possibility is that she's okay with you dating someone else, but not someone she knows. It being her friend may be the sticking point! I've found a lot of people don't consider that a possibility until they're confronted with it, and it drudges up a lot of bad feelings and anxieties that you "always really wanted them and not me," so that's worth investigating.

... Its also really possible she never gave it a ton of thought and assumed it was never really gonna happen🫤. Its also possible your timing was just shit in a way you're not mentioning (maybe didn't even think of!) like, if you mentioned it a week after y'all Had A Talk™️about her feeling really insecure lately, I can see how that could cause her some panic. You are just going to have to grit your teeth and talk🗣️. It is the ONLY path forward that has a chance of everyone feeling fulfilled. Which to me at least, makes it the only path forward, period ⏺️ It sucks. Its hard. You'd rather saw off your toes.

But here's the secret -> people regret more the things they didn't do than the things they did do. A life spent wondering is generally much harder than anything else.

So if after you talk to her, she does have a problem with polyamory, there are only a few options for how this shakes out:

You never get the polyamory. Either because you kept your mouth shut 🙊 or because you asked and it was clearly never going to be okay with her. You stay with her forever and cut off this desire of yours to make her happy. Most poly people find this a very constricted existence.

She consents to polyamory even though she doesn't like having to share you. You guys broker some sort of compromise. Maybe she comes around, but maybe its always a sore spot, and she always feels like she's settling for half a relationship.🌗

You break up💔. Maybe now, maybe after years of trying and failing to do one or both of the first two options.

That's all there is. There's room within those categories, of course, but every outcome is one of those three. Give each of them their fair consideration, because there are some major, long-term pros and cons with each of them, and you need to know what you're signing on for. Oh, and if you're not willing to talk about it? You're locking yourself into the first one. Maybe she's worth it to you, but if that's the choice you're making, you cannot hold that choice against her later, because she won't even have realized you made it if you don't talk about it.

And if you do broker some sort of deal, you better fasten your seatbelt. Because you will have to talk about things she's uncomfortable with very regularly. Accept that right the fuck now. You know its true. You know that even if she understands, there will be new situation after new situation you will have to go through together. And a lot of them will be hard on her. And it will be on your shoulders to see her through.

This is, without exaggeration on my part, one of the worst situations to be in ever. My heart goes out to you.💝 I hope from the depths of my soul there's some sort of misunderstanding that gets resolved without much drama, and you're all okay. I am also truly sorry if that sounded harsh, but I don't want you to waste your time looking for miracle fixes. Everything from this point on will be messy and labor-intensive, but I hope it can be a labor of love.

Wising you the strength to see yourself to a life you love 💙💖🖤

[vriskaserketdaily]

Announcement; CW for graphic descriptions of medical emergencies & discussions of death/mortality

so, yesterday i briefly mentioned that i had been hospitalized. i unknowingly consumed edibles, became anxious and hyperactive, had a full-blown panic attack, and believing myself to be in the mother of all caffeine overdoses (2 cups of black tea) or having a heart attack or both, called emergency services, and was hospitalized with severe tachycardia.

i genuinely thought i was dying, sitting outside in my pajamas with my back to the mailbox post waiting for the EMTs to arrive. i still thought i was dying two hours later, struggling to breathe in the hospital room with my parents beside me.

i thought about a lot of things in the time between calling the emergency number and being lifted into the ambulance. i didn't want this blog to be my only legacy when i have so much more to do and be and make. i have other hobbies---knitting, crochet, playing guitar & composing music, and especially writing. i haven't drawn or written about my ocs in years, even during the recent hiatus, and i would like to change that.

to that end, i will not be drawing vriskas on a daily basis or consistently updating the fan art queue for the forseeable future. i will still draw vriska, especially if there are requests in the inbox, but i won't be going out of my way to squeeze out fan art when i'm ill, busy in other areas of my life, or generally not feeling it.

i will be keeping this blog up. i will not be changing the url because i fought too hard for a hypen-free daily vriska url and i'm not giving it up that easily. perhaps, after a year or two, i may even resume daily vriskas and normal blog operations.

COMMON QUESTIONS:

are you like, okay? i think i'm fine, physically? i was discharged after about four hours in the hospital and was able to move and eat and stuff today. i still feel some soreness/tightness in the chest, but i think that's to be expected given the circumstances.

can we still send requests? YES please omg. the interactions i have had through requests have been so positive and rewarding that it'd be difficult for me to fully give this blog up. even something as simple as "draw vriska" will function as a request. one thing that's been going through my head a lot lately is the thought that i could die and no one here would notice or care, so having tangible assurance that there is at least one person in the world who wants to see my vriska art would be very meaningful in that regard. i may not respond immediately, but i will respond to all requests that conform to the blog rules and mission (no nsfw, no pedophilic/incestuous ships, must involve vriska in some way)

will you consider opening mod applications? no, both because i don't think there would be too many takers for the position and because i know from experience that the fastest way to kill a daily blog is to load it up with a bunch of mods. (i am not the original owner of this blog and have moderated a few other multi-mod blogs before---i am currently the sole mod of the two i stuck with, this being one of them). i'd rather keep this blog half-active with just me than have it be completely inactive with me and 3-6 other people. again, there's a chance that after a year or so of taking things slow, i may come back to it.

can we tag you in art/fics/vriska posts? yes, actually, that would be very helpful. i don't expect anyone to do this, but again, i will no longer be actively perusing the character tag. feel free to @ me in vriska-related posts you think could use a little love.

if i have a daily vriska blog, will you promote me? sure! genuinely, i wish you luck---i've seen a couple of y'all come and go, and it really takes a lot to keep a blog like this running for more than three months. if you can do that you will be certified spiders for real.

where else can we find you? my main blog is @beangods, where i reblog posts that are not about vriska. you can send art requests there, too, but they cannot be related to vriska. that's what this blog is for. i also moderate @theextendedzodiacas, which is mostly fantroll-oriented. i'm on discord, too, but you won't find me on any other social media site.

is the vriskord still up? yes, it is, and you can join it, though the server is not very active. i don't plan on taking the server down or anything like that.

eighth question eighth answer 8ottom text

please feel free to reach out to me, and i'll be happy to answer any questions that i can. thank you for your understanding, and i'll see you . . . in probably a few days when i draw the 1 request currently sitting in the inbox.

thanks for reading all this.

-mod 8

[liamobrienlove]

My MCM Comic Con Experience

Oh y'all, i have been wanting to talk about this to anyone who will listen haha Sorry this post is a bit late but it's been busy at work since i got home.

Where do i even begin? I met Liam! Still seems surreal even though i have photo evidence haha Let's just start with meeting him!

First up on the Saturday morning was meeting up with the amazing @formulares - who is amazinnnng btwwwww! had so much fun! 10/10 would recommend being friends with him lmao

Next it was time to get in and get in line for the Liam autograph! CR had their own section for autos which was great because the queues were SO LONG. Luckily, we were like 5th in line! When they all came out, the whole room erupted and the cast looked utterly amazed and completely taken a back with the turnout. Here starts the whole Liam experience haha I made Ares go first because i just couldn't and to watch is conversation with Liam was special. Liam is a special guy, i'll say that.

When i got to him, i was so nervous and he just made me feel like we were old friends. I gave him some letters i had to give and then the dice i'd brought him and he was so happy and rolled them! got a Nat 1 on his first roll but rerolled because halfling luck hehe and got a much better number! i then was able to tell him how much his characters and he have helped me through a lot in recent years and he was so grateful and wrote a lovely message on my print i was getting signed (which i'm not going to share yet as i will most likely be getting it as a tattoo) and then that was the end of the auto portion! when i went in for my photo with him, he remembered me! ahhhh and then we had the cutest picture and he gave me a bug cuddle as i was leaving. Liam is an amazing human, so kind, sweet and humble. I'm hoping i get to meet him again in the near future because truly, one of the best moments i've ever had.

Then i had photos with Travis (who was making sure to ask everyone their names and shake their hand before the photo) and was thanking everyone as well once they were done. it was so sweet!

I did have a Sam photo op but because i was anxious about not making it to my Taliesin one (sam's was the same time as Travis), i gave my photo ticket to Ares who had a great picture with Sam (who is really tall!). Next it was time to have my photo with Taliesin who is just a super sweet man and was wonderful! i love my photo with Taliesin so much! he was so excited to meet everyone!

Now, onto meeting Matt! Bear in mind i queued for three and a half hours to meet him. One thing i will say is MCM need to work on their queuing system because the line for matt was 4 people wide and just didn't seem to go down! By the time i got to the front i was emotional and overwhelmed and i think Matt could see that right off the bat. He shook my hand and asked my name and then we jumped into what was a very amazing and sweet conversation, where when i started to get emotional, Matt took hold of my hands (he's an utter sweetheart) and when i told him how much this show, this world had changed my life, he was just so receptive and so humble about it all and just amazing. Then he got up to give me a hug and it was so sweet of him - that man just adores every single person/fan. He spent time talking to every single person and stayed late to make sure everyone got to meet him.

i cannot begin to put into words how amazing they all were. From seeing Travis, Laura, Ashley, Marisha, Sam and Tal interact with everyone when standing in line, to how they were in photo ops - this cast are genuine and amazing. I count myself lucky to have been able to see them in person and cannot wait until i'm able to again in the future. I just adore them and it's an experience i will never, ever forget.

[prettyoddfever]

Tumblr glitched while I was trying to answer this, but thankfully I took a screenshot of everything before refreshing because I legit cannot find that draft or question anywhere now, sorry. So here we go again...

I'll link to the post here. (btw any annoyance that might seep into my tone in my recent answers is NOT directed at the actual people asking... y'all are lovely). So that post is done in a very similar tone to the Ryden primers that the pre-split fandom posted, but I'm getting the sense that this is very very different... like that person seems to actually believe the content that they're posting is straight up facts (and even if they don't, the fact that you're referring to it as "infamous" probably implies that other people are at least treating it as real facts, so I'm still going to address it like the tone is serious). Here's an explanation of how the majority of the fandom used to view Ryden.

A lot of their pictures no longer show up, so I'm going to leave a wayback screen recording here for reference:

I'll just comment as I go through it if I have something to add:

I suppose that the tone of someone's comments is open to interpretation, so idc as much about whether those are misread or not.

That supposed AIM convo was shared as a myspace bulletin by Brent's brother Blake during the summer 2006 season when he was trying to stir up shit and was busy posting other inaccurate info too. I'm just saying to take it with a grain of salt. 

Ryan’s lj post on 9/27/05 was about the release of AFYCSO that day. He talked a lot in interviews that season about how it was weird for him to see so many fans singing his lyrics back to him.

uhh most of the pictures that this person lists "from this era" of 2004/2005 are actually from 2006. so they definitely know what they're talking about here lol.

they list one of Ryan's livejournal posts and then say "I'm not sure of the exact date, but I know it was some time in 06." It was from June 24, 2006. 

lol Audrey.

re: the Myrtle Beach theory

why is the part where Ryan called Brendon a golden god in late 2006 any different than when Brendon said this about Spencer that same season?

re: the 2006 mic-sharing & stage gay

fans would positively scream when Ryan & Brendon approached each other, especially in the last half of 2006. this moment in Munich in October 2006 seemed no different... the guys absolutely knew what they were doing.

the VMA performance just seemed like Ryan was still using Brendon as a safe space to look at so he wouldn't stare at his feet or guitar, but that is still very much something you could turn into a Ryden thing so carry on haha.

about the Rolling Stone interview

I'm laughing at the "squint a little harder" comment about finding Ryden content in 2008. That is so accurate. 

re: Dylan's myspace (yes, Keltie ran a myspace for Hobo that anyone could grab pics from).

Ryan absolutely sounds like he's saying dude... also that would be normal.

the picture of the bracelet is normal

I'm just going to link to this post since it addresses many similar inaccurate points about early 2009.

I was about to side eye them so hard for posting the Lana Jade letter as real, but at least they added that she made multiple posts explaining that it wasn't her. And yes, obviously Brendon's best friend was Shane (not Ryan).

omg Ryan's tattoos are not about Brendon. Those are Tom Waits lyrics. Ryan was good friends with Thomas Dutton. About a year before getting the tattoos, Ryan was hanging out with him on tour in the UK and later told Kerrang that “a friend of mine in Forgive Durden turned me on to Tom Waits when we were in the UK… I’ve been listening to him ever since. His voice is so rough and dark. I’d never really heard anything like that.”

the sharing beds idea was misunderstood in the Billboard interview... all 4 guys slept on bunkbeds in the same room when they were recording AFYCSO. That's what Brendon's referring to.

re: the Bishop Gorman tshirt… Ryan was hardly that size in high school. But Brent went to Bishop Gorman too (and so did Paulina, who was also friends with Brendon). Brendon did borrow some of Brent’s stuff in 2004/2005 (like money for food while they were first touring). Just saying… it's def interesting, but it’s not an automatic Ryden connection.

I didn't read Spencer's tone in that out.com interview the same way... there's some relevant bits in this post.

about the red shirt

here's my general tag for Ryden stuff

[penncilkid]

Continuing on from this post, my thoughts on Sam/Milo as it pertains to Inversion + The Summit

[PK Inversion Brainrot part 241 (/j):]

-The idea that Milo losing his magic for a bit retriggering Sam is actually everything to me /lh

-I think Milo would be keeping himself busy as much as humanly possible, so much so that he can't notice the emotions clouding Sam's eyes from behind. I imagine a lot of late night drives taken by Sam once Milo goes to sleep for the night, not wanting to talk directly but wanting the space

-After he works through it enough though, it turns into him trying to figure out how to best help his mate. Should be keeping up the comfort and reassurance that this won't last? Or should be try and help prepare Milo for a life without shifting? (Doesn't end up mattering in the long run but still)

-Despite the fact that Sam was the one inside the ward, I firmly believe it's Milo's safety that he worries about most following that day. When Milo starts working security gigs again, Sam tries to suppress the urge to constantly check in and make sure Milo will be home that night. I could see him even asking other pack members because he doesn't want to stress Milo out with his anxieties (this would have to reach a boiling point at some point though and the convo would EAT I just know it /pos)

-Sam having an intensified appreciation for any time Milo chooses to shift in front of him after his core returns to normal

-Even though it would go against canon theoretically, I firmly believe Milo would half-jokingly start the "would you have turned me?" convo with Sam after his magic is back to normal. It's under the guise of "if my core had been fried for good... would you have offered that to me?" Maybe they leave it there, continue ignoring the larger elephant in the room, but I feel like they go hand in hand

-Sam having nightmares about things he witnessed in the ward but Milo was in other's place? Yeah /lh

///

[Onto the Summit]

-Fred and Bright (my versions at least) are dating by then and BOTH are in attendance in general, so that's already fun + the Quinn mentions would be even more fun with his progeny there

-I've also been analyzing heavily how I think Milo would feel towards Alexis and vice versa

-SH and Darlin are dating in the context of this ship, so it makes Porter approaching Darlin feel even jucier because he's also aware that Sam and Darlin are close in some regards + has heard about Darlin's reputation

-Bright and Lovely have a very close dynamic, this is more passive of a thought since I'm uniquely insane over my versions of them but I like the idea that Bright is dragging them around *cough cough* so they're not just made to be Vincent's arm candy the entire night instead *cough hack cough*

-Sam internally freaking out for a moment when the death takes place because he can't find Milo initially and he has flashbacks to Milo being outside the ward and him inside (<33)

-It also hit me that Milo and Porter would have met pre-Summit, oh BITCH I have things to think about /pos

-First off: *Milo Greer does not have a bone to pick with Alexis Solaire prior to this event.* In fact, he's mentioned to Sam on several occassions that "Hey, I get why you're upset with her/feel the way you do. But first off, you should talk to someone about it. And second, you don't even know what she's actually like after all this time given the cold shoulder y'all have both been giving each other. Just consider that, alright?" Like the idea that Milo would square up because she's "Sam's ex" feels ridiculous to me personally, they are both minding their business as far as things go before the Summit

-Second: Concocting with the help of Lexi Sun (<33), because of the idea that Marie is sympathetic towards Alexis from the perspective of a healer, Milo is also inclined to not hate her guts prior to everything. He knows she fucked up Sam way back before when, and he's got some thoughts about that, but it's not this seething anger or anything

-That. Being. Said. When it came to the Summit, I thought Darlin's reactions to Alexis' chat were kind out of character given their development as a listener for several reasons. So I was like "Well what would be the best way to have her poke and prod at things that's unique to Milo?" And then I remembered one of my favorite gut wrenching moments in "canon", which is Imp!Milo basically telling Asher that he is expendable in comparison because his emotions get the best of him and that he can "take the punches" for them and all that jazz.

-So picture it with me: Sure Alexis brings up the whole "you gonna get turned or not?" thing but what she presses against is whether or not Milo could adequately live up to being Sam's mate more or less. "He's the duke of the Solaire clan, he's got plenty of eyes on him and the reputation to match. And you're... what? The pup who runs behind his best friends who actually have a role in your pack? What is it that you can even offer Sam?" It gets under Milo's skin because at no point is she undermining Sam. She's not shit talking that man whatsoever, but she's perfectly sinking her nails into Milo's insecurities. Hell, she could be asking in a complex way of looking out for Sam after all these years, the effect is all the same. And in that context, it feels like it makes sense that Milo starts to lose his temper, very much so "watch ya fuckin' mouth" energy only to be met with Alexis saying something along the lines of "By all means, Mr. Greer. *Please* start shouting and get every pair of eyes on the two of us. I'm sure you'd be showing everyone how you're *such* a good representative for your pack." Like it's catty, it's petty, but she's also just stating her perspective as an external detached party. The problem is that it's stuff Milo's tried to push out of his head a million times.