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beautifulfuckup99 · 1 year

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I NEED a pt.2 to college fvckboy Yoongi!!! ASAP!!!

You know I got you, girl!

Title: Those Damn Lips (Part 2 to 'Those Damn Eyes')

Warning(s): C*cktease!Y/N, Jealousy S!x, Talks of Cheat!ng, D!rty talk, Curs!ng, and FLUFF!

Author's Note: Hope you enjoy!

***********************************

"Are you gonna speak, or are you just gonna keep staring at me?" You finally ask as you keep your eyes glued to your textbook. The five-foot two girl with short brown hair and bangs sits up straighter, as if not expecting to have been caught by you.

You finally look up from your studies and eye the girl. "Mm... You don't know me, but my name is Isabella." She says finally, nose scrunching as if apologetic by that information she'd just shared with you. Completely unprovoked, mind you.

"Ok..." You say slowly as you sit back now, crossing your arms. "And that means..." You trail off.

"That means... Yoongi and I... Used to... talk." She says and you find yourself breathing heavy. Not again.

"And? What are you gonna do? Threaten me? Pull the 'he's not gonna treat you good' card? Try and act like you two are still talking?" You ask, unamused by this girl's presence.

Public dating Yoongi meant constantly being reminded of the fact that your now tamed boyfriend once had a past of being a reckless fuckboy. And there was no end to that fact.

After the frat party, you two agreed to actually try dating. Which was easy since you were still roommates as well, but the line of scorned ex-lovers was becoming tiresome for you.

"U-Uh... No! None of that. But... I just... Look, I should tell you-" You cut the girl off.

"Tell me that he's never gonna change, that I'm wasting my time, that night or day you can call him to hook up and he'd come running at the chance..." You recite, knowing the show and dance by heart now. It was messed up how many girls assumed doing this little speech to you would change your mind on Yoongi.

"Would you let me speak?!" She squeaks in frustration before fixing herself up a bit more. "I just thought that... From girl to girl? I should tell you... He's still talking to girls." She says and you snort.

"Honey. I read YA books for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I know this damn trick. You're gonna say this, probably show me a picture, and it'll be something taken out of context-" You're cut off by her showing the picture on her phone.

You pause to examine the picture and see it's Yoongi hugging some girl. They're somewhere off campus and they're in front of a hotel building together. Isabella swipes to the next photo and you see the girl, who you can't see the face of, being kissed by Yoongi on the cheek.

You shift in your seat, but don't let the confusion show on your face. Instead, you snort. "That's his best friend, dumbass..." before getting up. "Better luck next time." You say shortly before walking off, confused as to who the hell that girl was!

******************************************

When you get back to your shared apartment, you hear just how quiet it is and realize Yoongi must still be sleeping. You walk into your bedroom that he spends every night in now, only using his bedroom to work on projects or new songs.

As you watch him snore away, the anger of being confronted by yet another girl from his past takes over. You knew you shouldn't blame him for having a past, everyone did. But you hated that these girls felt they had the right to bother you whenever they wanted! And who the hell was that girl he was hugging in the picture?!

You shift your weight from one foot to the other as you continue to watch your boyfriend. Finally, a plan pops into your head.

You silently gather the supplies needed and get to work...

**************************************

You straddle your boyfriend and begin planting soft kisses along his shoulder. He hums, slowly stirring in his sleep and you smirk. "Baby..." You sing softly in his ear, and he hums again, a soft smirk playing on your lips as you begin nipping at his ear lobe.

"Mm..." He murmurs and slowly opens his eyes, smirking as he sees you on top of him in just your underwear. He goes to grab you and pauses as he realizes his hands are tied to the headboard.

"Whoa. This is a nice wakeup call..." He jokes, voice deep from just waking up. You hum in a false pleasant tone.

"You like?" You ask as you rub his chest and he nods fast. You move to his neck and kiss and lick different areas of skin as he shivers in pleasure.

"Baby?" You whisper as you softly grind against his bulge. It doesn't take long to get a full reaction from his 'friend', thank god for morning wood...

"Fuck. Y-Yes, honey..." He pants softly as you go back to playing with his ear, sucking softly on his earlobe.

"Do you like me?" You whisper as you pull back a bit to eye him.

"I sure do, baby girl..." He groans happily as he lifts his hips to press against you. You moan the way you know he likes.

"Yeah?" You pant as you grip his chest and sit up so he can watch you use his bulge, wetting his boxers the more you grind down.

"Oh fuck, yes, baby, get it wet..." He moans as his head rolls back.

"Yoongi?" You pant as you grab his chin. He looks up at you and licks those damn lips. The lips you'd become addicted to kissing, the lips that whispered sweet nothings to you while he played with your hair, the lips he used to kiss that girl's cheek!

"If you like me..." You stop grinding and move to his ear again. "Then why..." You whisper in his ear, voice soft and seductive. "Were you spotted... WITH ANOTHER GIRL?!" You snap in his ear, and he winces at the volume change. You sit up and cross your arms, glaring.

"What?! What other girl?! There's no other girl!" Yoongi says fast as he yanks at the scarves, to no avail.

"Oh? So, you weren't at a hotel yesterday, kissing some girl's cheek and hugging her?" You ask and he opens his mouth before closing it, as if realizing he was caught.

"Who is she, Yoongi? Hm?" You ask before grabbing a pillow to swat at his chest.

"Ow! Hey! Who even told you?" He asks back and you laugh humorlessly.

"Oh, that's the kicker!" You laugh sarcastically. "Some spiteful ex-lover that you played with before running off to me? Yeah, she showed me pictures of you and some random girl. You love messing around that much that you'd hurt ME, Yoongi!? What. The. Fu-" Yoongi cuts you off as you keep swatting him with the pillow.

"That's my sister!" He says and you glare.

"Sister?! That's the oldest trick in the book, Yoongi!" You huff as you get off of him.

"Y/N! I'm being serious! She's visiting from South Korea; I wanted you to meet her tonight!" He rushes out and you cross your arms as you eye him. "She's my twin sister. I swear. I'd never hurt you like that. I-I... I want this. This relationship, you, this... All of this. I love it. I-I love YOU." He rambles and you pause in surprise at the confession.

"I can prove it. Look through my phone. Call her yourself. That's my sister." He says and you keep your arms around your bare chest as you hum slowly, shifting. The original plan was to leave him tied up in bed with a boner, but the thought of you having overreacted kind of... Put a damper on things...

You grab his phone, playing it cool, still acting mad as you put in his pin and go to text messages, seeing the first chat log is labeled 'Sis' with a black heart emoji next to it. You click on the log and read a few texts that make it extremely clear this is his twin sister. Last text was from her asking what your favorite flowers were so she could surprise you with a bouquet when she comes over for dinner tonight.

"Huh. Uh... Well..." You slowly set the phone down as Yoongi watches you closely. "Still." You finally say, not wanting to admit any wrong doings in this moment. "I shouldn't have to deal with your gang of exes always bothering me!" You state and Yoongi huffs.

"That's not my fault!" He argues and you raise an eyebrow and set down the phone.

"It's not... You're fault?" You repeat and he nods.

"That's what I said. It's not my problem that girls are obsessed with me. Now let me out, Y/N." He orders as you hum slowly.

"I... I don't know. I don't think it's my problem." You state.

"Ha-ha. Funny..." He says sarcastically as he tugs at the scarves around his wrists.

"No. I'm serious. I don't think I want you untied just yet. I kind of... Like you like this." You smirk at him as you straddle him. He stops his tugging and eyes you. "You're so right. It's not your problem. I'm just your girlfriend, and I'm just getting harassed by your damn exes, but you're so right. It's not your problem at all." You state.

"Y/N, that's not what I mean-" You cut him off.

"But..." You say and slowly put your feet flat on the bed on either side of him with your legs bent at the knees. "If it's not your problem when I feel upset, then... Why should I make it your problem when I feel... Other things? Like... Horny." You say innocently.

"Y/N... I..." Yoongi pauses to lick his lips as he eyes the wet spot on your underwear.

"Yeah. If I'm feeling turned on... Why should I ask for your help? I can just..." Your hand travels down the front of your body slowly as Yoongi breathes shakily and shallow.

"Baby... Let me-" You cut him off again as your hand dips into your underwear.

"Mm... No. I can take care of myself..." You pant softly as you start to rub your own clit.

"Fuck, Y/N, that... That's not... Fucking fair." He huffs as he watches you closely with dark eyes. You smirk and focus on your own pleasure, grinding down on your hand as you gasp and moan, panting like a dog in heat. You were putting on the best show you could manage, just wanting to break the five-foot-nine, Korean man under you.

"Okay! Okay. Y/N, I'll handle those girls." Yoongi finally says as you remove your underwear seductively and softly press against his lower abdomen with a soft moan. "Fuck, you're dripping..." He groans, head going back into the pillows.

"You're gonna make sure they don't bother me again?" You ask innocently as you make Yoongi look at you.

"Fuck yes. I'm... I'm sorry they've been bothering, baby. I'm gonna make sure they stop." he nods fast as you sigh softly.

"It's stupid. I shouldn't let it bother me so much. You... Have a past. So what. But-" He cuts you off.

"But it does. And it should. But... Those girls were my past. You're my present, Y/N. And... hopefully you'll be my future." He whispers as he gives you gentle eyes. You pout a bit to fight off a smile.

"You're such a sweet talker..." You mutter and put a hand on Yoongi's face. "Fine! Fine, I'll... Be your future. As long as you don't give me problems in the present." You tease and he leans up to peck your lips. You sweetly kiss back before brushing your pussy along his cock, making it jolt a bit at the attention as he groans softly.

"Sweet talkers can get some lovin..." You mutter against his lips, and he groans happily.

"Bless you. Kind soul..." He whispers. It makes you laugh as you grab the sides of his face to kiss him. You slowly sink down on his semi-hard on, feeling it start to harden more as it snuggles between your walls. You shiver at the feeling and start riding him as he pulls at the scarves.

"Y/N... My hands..." He moans and you smirk.

"I said I liked this position..." You taunt as you bounce up and down, making him moan as he gives up fighting against the scarves.

"Fuck, so do I..." He groans as he watches your breasts bounce while you ride him. "Hop on my dick, baby. It's yours..." He whispers and you moan happily at that.

"Who makes you feel this good? Hm?" You whisper as you grab Yoongi's face so he's looking at you. He groans at your dominate side coming out.

"You! Only you!" He moans as he thrusts his hips up to meet yours, making your head roll back as your hands grip his chest, nails digging in. "Fuck, Y/N! Deeper! Dig in deeper!" He grunts out as you comply instantly, scratching his chest.

He hisses and moans at the slight pain all while you fuck yourself on his hard cock. "Mine! Mine! My cock..." You pant over and over as Yoongi moans your name.

"Fuck baby. You use it so good. No one can fuck me like you..." He whispers in a thick voice of pure desire and lust. The praise brings you closer to the edge.

"Yoongi!" You cry out as you cum, riding out your orgasm with a breathless giggle. The pleasure never got old...

"Oh fuck, baby. Little more. I-I'm so fucking close, baby..." Yoongi gasps as he keeps thrusting up and you smirk. You wait till he's right at the edge to pull off and jerk him, making him cum all over his stomach and some droplets hit his chest too. "Y/N!" Yoongi complains, always a fan of cumming on or in you. You laugh and smile innocently at him.

"Now we're even..." You taunt and get up, undoing his hands.

"Nope. Not yet." Yoongi says, grabbing you the second he's free. You squeal and he carries you to the shower. "You're cleaning up the mess you made." He smirks and you blush hard and giggle excitedly.

"Yes, sir!" You tease.

*************************************

Knock!

You jump a bit and breathe deeply to try and steady your head. "I'll get it." Yoongi says, getting up from the table where he'd been watching you set up dinner for the past half an hour already. You nod fast. To say you were nervous would be an understatement...

Yoongi had called his twin sister to come over for dinner to officially meet you and you just wanted things to go smoothly. You set down the bread bowl and then walk over to the front door where you see Yoongi hugging his sister. They pull away and the girl looks your way. You have to stiffle a gasp since this girl really just looked like Yoongi in a black bob cut with bangs wig!

You walk over. "It's so great to finally meet you!" The girl says excitedly, moving to hug you and you hug back, giving Yoongi a look over her shoulder and he chuckles.

"It's great to finally meet you... Uh..." You pause as you two pull away.

"Oh! My name is Yoonji." She says with a giggle and you chuckle before you can help it.

"Huh. Parents really had to think hard about the names, am I right?" You joke and Yoonji giggles at that. "Well... Welcome to our place, Yoonji. Come on in." You nod and she does just that. Yoongi smiles and pulls you close to his side as you walk into your apartment together...

#bts #bts army #bts fic #bts imagine #bts suga #min yoogni #suga imagine #suga x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi smut #suga smut

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darkstar225 · 1 year

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Twice’s 10th member has a solo debut

A/N: I actually got another ask on Tumblr, yaaaaay! :)

The request: Can you do something like the 10th member getting a solo and twice's reaction to her being all grown up? I imagine they'd be the type to be so motherly and shocked to see a different side of her.😂 but at the end of the day she's still their lil baby!

PS: Tysm for everyone that reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

It's been a long time since TWICE debuted and they couldn't be happier, after many requests their dear maknae got a chance to become a soloist. What they never expected was that she would be doing such a different concept from the one the group had.

As Y/N walked past the trainees, she finally understood how her unnies felt when they knew they'd perform alone. It was a mix of emotions she couldn't grasp how to deal with, after running along the corridors she finally found the waiting room where the staff and managers were all at.

Y/N: I'm sorry, I got lost *bowing*

Manager oppa: Hahahah, it's okay kid. Did you forget the way here?

Y/N: Yes... Jihyo unnie always guides me here and Sana unnie is always holding my hand so *shrugs*

Manager oppa: At least you got here safe and sound!

Y/N: Thank you for waiting and my apologies again. *bowing*

Meanwhile... her sisters were at the dorm preparing for the surprise they didn't tell their youngest. Even if they had a whole day of schedules they'd cancel it to support their maknae altogether. Also, they're incredibly curious about the title of the album, regardless of the days they spend begging for a sneak peek, Y/N stood her ground and denied showing anything till the day she'd be debuting, which is today!

Sana: I can't wait to see what our baby is gonna sing!!

Nayeon: She's amazing, look at this young pic of her. I can't believe she grew up so much!

Jihyo: She will always be our maknae, even when she's 60.

Jeongyeon: That's true, I can only imagine how much more endearing she can get!

Mina: Let's hurry, Manager oppa already send the signal (찌릿 찌릿 찌릿 찌릿)

Dahyun: It's not gonna be long till she gets on stage, we need to get there asap

Tzuyu: It's not her wedding unnies, we must leave now

Momo: Fineee, come on girls!

Chaeyoung: Finally!

Momo: I heard that -_-

Jihyo: Me too, Son Chaeyoung.

Chaeyoung: Sorry unnie.

Jihyo: That's more like it...

After some -years- minutes, they're finally heading to the venue. The traffic was horrible but they got there on time (How? I guess we'll never know)

Sprinting through the halls they noticed their maknae a mile away, she was already on stage getting ready to record, not a single thought on her mind besides "You can do it, if the unnies did it, you can too" and because of that she failed to take note of her unnies eyeing her outfit and the concept of the stage (let's imagine she's the singer of Gotta Go by Chungha) and talking quietly with each other.

Mina: I mean- look at the aesthetic, it seems like she's gonna do something less cute than our songs.

Chaeyoung: Yeahhh, she's gonna rock the stage anyway ✨

Nayeon: There wasn't another option hon, she's our child.

At this moment, Y/N starts walking around the stage to check all aspects of the performance before she begins. Her members can see the change in her eyes and the confidence she carries. Her outfit is way more revealing than anything they've ever seen her use and the most surprising is how different she looks with makeup on, normally she goes for a natural look so spotting something like that makes them realize how grown up their maknae is, even if they refuse to believe it every single day. Sana: Wow, look! It's like a catwalk!

Momo: Ngl, she's looking hot.

Jihyo: HEY. I wanna oppose 'cause it's my kid we're talking about but yeah... I agree.

The youngest goes to her place and starts singing like there's no tomorrow, her members can only stare without saying a word, baffled doesn't even cover how they feel. When it gets to the chorus, her dance makes Momo think back to all the personal classes she gave the maknae when they were only a year after debuting. Jihyo starts to reflect on how much the girl has grown, from a child that followed her around to the woman that's on the stage belting and grooving to the rhythm of the song they could never see their kid doing. With tears in her eyes, Nayeon just seems to be perplexed by the changes between on-stage and off-stage Y/N, the innocent doe eyes she does when she wants some candy, the stumps when she gets frustrated about something she didn't get, the completely full of blush face she gets when her unnies annoy and fool around with her and everything else, disappeared, and TWICE didn't see it coming, they knew Y/N had already ended her teenage years however, seeing up close how adult, like she's by herself, is a shock.

Chaeyoung: Bro... Are you seeing what I'm seeing?

Dahyun: Yeah bro, she doesn't even seem like our maknae.

Sana: Where did my baby go??

Mina: Our honey seems so professional up there, I can't even explain how proud I feel.

Jeongyeon: Who let her do that? JYP didn't give us a warning!

Jihyo: A warning would be good...

Chaeyoung: Hell yeah.

Nayeon: Language.

Dahyun: Did you actually say that? I'm the only one who heard it??

Tzuyu: I did too, made her more of a grandma than we thought.

Nayeon: WHAT?

Sana: Shhhh, we're trying to listen to our baby singing.

Momo: Yeah grandma, let us appreciate our maknae.

Nayeon: Fine. I'm gonna let it slide just for our maknae.

When Y/N did some waves they couldn't help but want to close their eyes and think "This is a child, our child" but at the end of the day they understood how they should never judge the youngest for her solo, she wasn't that kid that entered the group and made their hearts melt from how much of a child she was, playing with her dolls from time to time, wanting to go to the park with her sisters, dancing to stupid songs just because. She still made them swoon in a blink of an eye but she grew up and they had to recognize that they did help on providing to create an incredible human being, their Y/N, their inspiration to be better every day.

After her stage, Y/N brighten up immediately when she saw her unnies. Running like the kid they remember each second they breathe, and that's when they started thinking the same thing:

We love our dear maknae.

A/N: I apologise for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there's something wrong, ty for reading <3

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destinedarts · 2 months

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🎧 OST for the The Dragon Prince Season 6 Trailer "Standing Defiant" 🎙️

WHOEVER WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR PUTTING THIS TRAILER TOGETHER NEEDS TO PAY FOR ALL OUR THERAPY BILLS ASAP 💀💀💀💀

youtube

Trailer below for comparison. Okay, did they seriously just put Dark Mage Callum as a thumbnail— We're doomed, y'all. 💀

youtube

Check out the teasers' soundtracks, Aerial View and Gargantuan!

Lyrics

Head between your knees Can’t you hear the call Can’t you hear it screaming for relief

Waiting for the chance There’s a hidden strength To set free

When you feel it It’s surreal, it’s No surprise we rise

The earth shakes, the sky shivers The stars fall out of alignment We are the sinners The new stars standing defiant Oh-oh Oh-oh

Hanging off the edge Waiting for a sign Waiting for somebody to defend

Don’t you wait too long There’s a map inside of your head

When you feel it It’s surreal, it’s No surprise we rise

The earth shakes, the sky shivers The stars fall out of alignment We are the sinners The new stars standing defiant

They won’t bring us down They can’t shake us now They are running from this war We’re raging like the perfect storm

They won’t bring us down They can’t shake us now They are running from defeat We’ll see them all upon their knees

The earth shakes, the sky shivers The stars fall out of alignment We are the sinners The new stars standing defiant Oh-oh-oh Oh-oh Oh

Since it seems like it's harder to find the lyrics online. You can find them in the Lyric Info for the song on Extreme Music. 😅

Notes: Yes, got Extreme Music to make their updates. 😊 So lyrics are 100% correct now. There's also a bunch of extra Oh's they didn't write down and no echoes jotted down either.

Further Notes

The only other time they used a lyrical song was for Season 3's Recap video: Make This End. 3 seasons later, we're here. As someone said in the yt comments, you know the season's gonna be fire if they're using a song here too. 🔥

Like usual, the song is available on Extreme Music and other distributing platforms such as Spotify. "Standing Defiant" was composed by Devin Hoffman, Figero Scripp, and Lily Marly as the singer.

It was also released in February 5, 2024. 😳 Meaning the trailer finished sometime between then and June 3 when it was first uploaded on the S6 Trailer playlist. Not gonna go into that story of how we discovered that title leak. 😂

Keywords: Cool, Electronic, Epic, Heroic, Punchy, Struggle, Thrilling

👀 me looking at that word "Struggle" right there 😨

I'm comin' after Netflix if they purposely searched for this song with the word "struggle" 👿🗡️👿👿🗡️👿🗡️

Edit: I just texted Villads since I already knew he made the edits for many trailers. He also chose the music for this as well.

And error: looking at the subtitles for the Netflix-issued trailer. Netflix is incorrect for "The Sun shivers." It's clearly "Sky". I mean seriously, nobody's gonna have the money or time to get the singers to customize a song just to fit the scene. 😂 They just buy the song off the music producer's platform.

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goddessalthena · 2 months

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UsaMamo Week 2024 - Day 3/6 - Inspired by a Song/Coffee

Late again, and it's tough to say how late because this is technically two prompts in one. I was originally planning to write this as a song fic, but wasn't really feeling it leading up to the event week. Then last night I read @caelenath's awesome song fic and felt inspired to take another look at my outline.

This is not the whimsical lark that my other UsaMamo week pieces have been (which is why I was torn about writing it) but it's an idea that's been nagging at me for a while now. This is only the first part of three, but I thought it would be nice to post it for the event.

Title: Happier Summary: Mamoru wants a cup of coffee. Rating: T (for language) Words: 1722

“Thirty eight!”

Chiba Mamoru is not a melodramatic person. He is not given to histrionics. Flagrant displays of emotion are simply not his thing. Indeed, he is a calm, composed, and exceedingly rational human being. Life is stressful—his arguably more so than most—and he prides himself on his ability to ‘rise above’. But if this beanie-wearing, mouth-breathing barista doesn’t call his number in the next sixty seconds he might just lose it.

“Thirty nine!”

Mamoru stares down at his receipt and wills the numbers to change. Unsurprisingly, they remain the same. He can transform into a superhero in the blink of an eye, but he can’t change a number on a piece of paper. It may be the caffeine withdrawal talking but this seems…unfair. Unjust. Unacceptable. He is a reincarnated prince, the rightful heir to the planet beneath his very feet, and yet he cannot get a simple cup of coffee.

“Thirty seven!”

Are they counting fucking backwards now? He takes a breath and stuffs the receipt in his pocket so he can run a hand through his hair. He needs to calm down. He’s just tired. He’s had another rough night of precious little sleep and this is just a bad morning. That’s all. One bad morning. At the end of a bad week. At the end of a bad month. He just—

“Forty!”

He just really needs some coffee. It’ll be ready soon. So long as they serve him in the next—he checks his watch—four minutes he can still make it to the hospital before his shift starts. He thinks. He’s only just started at UoT and he’s still not used to the bus transfers. Getting to Keio was much simpler. He didn’t have to get up so early, and the coffee shop across the street was much faster. Not to mention better. He misses that coffee. He misses Keio. He misses sleeping. He misses…a lot of things.

“Forty one!”

Lucky number forty one strolls up to the counter to claim their prize. They walk away with a tall plastic cup full of frothy green liquid that looks like it was poured directly out of an infected nostril, and Mamoru can’t help but shudder when they take a long, noisy sip from the straw. Who comes to a coffee shop and orders…whatever that is? This is apparently a trend now—ordering non-caffeinated beverages at coffee shops—because the last ten people who have walked away from the counter have had similarly ridiculous drinks. Why does everything have to be dessert, or snot, in a cup nowadays? What’s wrong with a regular cup of coffee?

He needs to find another coffee shop.

“Forty two!”

He needs them to call his number.

He pulls out his phone to distract himself and scrolls through a list of notifications: weather, junk mail, update reminders—up to forty five now, he’s got to get around to doing that—and one text. His thumb hovers over the blue bubble for a moment or two before he eventually presses down.

Training session Fri or Sat ppl. LMK work schedules ASAP. No ghosting Chiba. Ur old ass is getting rusty. 👴

As Mamoru rolls his eyes three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen. He holds his breath.

“Forty three!”

He doesn’t look away from those three little dots, doesn’t blink, doesn’t breathe. He just watches them, transfixed, until finally—

I’ve got a shift at the restaurant Friday night, but I can do AM Sat wide open

He releases the breath he’s been holding in a quiet sigh. Just Makoto. Not— His thumb hits the back button of its own accord then scrolls down through the list of chats, until…there, near the bottom. Sandwiched between an old banking verification and a number he doesn’t even recognize. He reads the date to the right of the name and winces. Again, his thumb hovers.

“Forty four!”

He taps. A string of texts populate his screen. He doesn’t need to read them again, he knows them by heart. But he reads them anyway. Like he always does. He can’t help it. He’s weak; in these moments at least. When no one can see. He should stop looking now. Should close the window. Should delete the whole thread while he’s at it. But he won’t. He can’t. He can do a lot of things—has done a lot of things—but he can’t delete those words.

I love you, Mamo-chan.

“Forty five!”

I’ll always love you. Even if you’ve stopped loving me back.

“Forty five!”

I wish I knew why though. I wish you would tell me what I did wrong.

“Forty five! That’s four five, people. Four five!”

I’m sorry, I get it now, I won’t bother you anymore. Be happy, Mamo-chan. I want you to be happy.

“For the last time, forty five! Going once, going twice…”

Mamoru’s head snaps up. Forty five. Fuck. That’s his number.

He stuffs his phone in his pocket and rushes up to the counter and beanie-boy does not look happy. Mamoru begins to mutter an apology then stops as the barista shoves a large mug topped whipped cream, caramel, and chocolate shavings toward him. Mamoru looks from the mug to the mouth-breather and back again as his brain tries to comprehend what is happening. After an eternity of waiting they finally called his number and yet…this is not his drink.

The barista is staring at him with a bored, somewhat vacant expression and Mamoru can clearly see that he is wondering why Mamoru isn’t taking the mug and walking away. Apparently the barista can’t tell from Mamoru’s assumedly apoplectic expression that he has no intention of taking the mug. This mug is not his. It’s not what he ordered. It’s not what he wants. Apparently that’s just his life now. An endless string of miserable disappointments that he’s supposed to suffer through silently. But he’s fed up with being silent.

He wants his damn coffee, and he wants it right fu—

“Oh, hello, uh, hey, sorry, excuse me but…I think that’s mine actually.”

Mamoru blinks as a cheerful man with sandy blond hair steps up beside him. He points to the confectionery concoction on the counter and shoots Mamoru an apologetic smile before turning to the barista. “Yes, chocolate macchiato with caramel, right? I believe that’s mine and not this gentleman’s.”

Beanie boy looks from Mamoru to sandy-hair and blinks.

Sandy-hair glances at Mamoru and shoots him another overly apologetic look. “Right, umm, well, if it’s all right, I’ll just grab this and get out of your way.” Mamoru steps to the side and sandy-hair takes the mug and hurries away. Presumably to overdose on sugar.

Mamoru turns back to the barista.

Barista scratches his temple. The beanie must be itchy. Mamoru hopes it is.

“So…what was your order again?”

“Large. Black. Coffee.”

“Right. That’ll take a couple of min—” Beanie boy must have just learned to read facial expressions because his eyes widen and he takes a step back. “I’ll go get it now.”

Mamoru feels a little bit of the tension ease in his shoulders and he breathes a weary sigh. He’s being an asshole. He’s doing that more and more often now. He keeps telling himself it’s the long work hours and the lack of sleep, but he knows what the real problem is. It’s her. He misses her. But there’s nothing he can do about that so he needs to find a better way to cope than being rude to baristas. And co-workers. And neighbours in his apartment building.

The barista comes back with his to-go cup and Mamoru tries to smile and thanks him for the drink. The guy nods but appears otherwise unaffected and that’s fine. Mamoru’s not looking for a new friend, he’s just trying to be a decent human being. A tinkle of bells sounds as he reaches for his cup. A gust of air follows, and a familiar tingle between his shoulder blades compels him to turn. He follows the innate instinct before his mind can warn him against it.

The unmistakable sight of blond odangos makes his heart soar before the inevitable sensation of crushing gloom comes down hard upon his ribs. Just when he thought his morning couldn’t get any worse. He can’t handle this. Not right now. Not again. He’s not strong enough to face another awkward meeting, another painful interaction, another agonizing opportunity to break her heart. Why are they always bumping into each other? Why, in a city as big as this, can he not get through one single week without running into her? Why?

Mamoru knows why. Because they’re soul mates.

He looks around for an alternate exit, a side door, a window, anything so he can avoid being seen. Before he can consider hiding in the bathroom he realizes she’s not approaching the counter where he stands, she’s rushing over to a table. She’s out of breath, her cheeks are pink, and she’s spouting a string of apologies. He’s seen her look exactly like this countless times before, and he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face as the memories replay.

His smile disappears as a new memory implants itself in his mind.

Of Usako, rushing up to a table where a man with sandy blond hair is standing in wait. Where a man with sandy blond hair is taking her hands. Where a man with sandy blond hair is pulling her forward. Kissing her cheek. Making her blush.

“Don’t worry,” sandy-hair says, “your timing is perfect. Your drink just came out. I wasn’t sure if you wanted a muffin, a danish, or a doughnut, so I got one of each.”

Usako laughs with delight.

Mamoru heads for the door like the building is on fire. He doesn’t hear the barista calling after him, telling him that he’s forgotten his coffee. He doesn’t hear the tinkling of bells as he shoves through the door or the loud rush of traffic as he hits the sidewalk. All he can hear is Usako’s laughter play over and over in his head.

When was the last time he heard her laugh? When?

Mamoru doesn't know when. He can’t remember.

***

Ain’t nobody hurt you like I hurt you But ain’t nobody love you like I do Promise that I will not take it personal, baby If you’re moving on with someone new

***

Happy Birthday, Mamoru! Sorry bud, this is a breakup fic. What can I say? I both love and hate the breakup arc. The song that inspired this fic is Happier by Ed Sheeran.

Thanks for reading! ❤️

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#usamamoweek2024 #sailor moon #usamamo #usagi x mamoru #usagi tsukino #mamoru chiba #grump-mamoru #breakup arc #angst #fanfiction #goddessalthena #my writing

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seelestia · 1 year

Text

◇ A Blessed Imperfection ◇

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

LIA'S NOTE: aaaaa, thank you sm for submitting and writing this masterpiece, ☆ starlight anon! i'm so sorry that i wasn't able to post this asap but now, i'm sobbing as i read this. (/pos) do give this a read if you have the time and show ☆ starlight anon (@/hermosacolibri) some support for their godly writing 💐 this work does not belong to me, all credits go to ☆ starlight anon!

+ tagging @zhongrin — ehe! rin jie, you gotta take a look at this <3

CW: fem!reader, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth (in zhongli's part), reader has a vision (geo for zhongli and electro for ayato).

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

SYNOPSIS: Many consider your disability as a burden, but he finds a way to make it a blessing in disguise. What makes us flawed is what makes us unique, and that is what he considers the most beautiful thing about you—an imperfection he dearly adores. Nevertheless, he knows of your lingering sorrows and thus seeks a way to support you in the best way he could.

CHARACTERS: Zhongli, Kamisato Ayato

NOTE: I have decided to just submit the excerpts for these two and dedicated them to Rin and you respectively lol. I kept getting ideas and suddenly there were more characters to write, which made the entry too long. If you or the others wish to read more, I have an account on Quotev (a writing platform) that compiled all these sorts of literary works. People can also request there. I will provide the link if anyone is interested once I get everything cleaned up :)

•

ZHONGLI is a god whom has lived for eons, and has yet to begin his life at the same time. After his six millennia of existence, he has been known by many names and bestowed countless titles. Some are hearsay, and some are legitimate—all are bonded through his contracts. As the Prime Adeptus, he is the warrior god named Morax who subdued the rage of oceans and monsters by rain of spears. To all of Liyue, he is the mighty Rex Lapis whom stood as the overseer of contracts, history, and commerce. By the word of Celestia, he is the Geo Archon whom holds dominion over the Gnosis; and in the eyes of Teyvat, that made him god amongst gods even if he felt otherwise under the divine gaze.

Alas, when he finally stepped down from the lonely throne, his words to the Traveler omitted a particular truth from him—

—that is, his reason of retirement.

Zhongli spoke of erosion, and even the merchant whom made him realize that his job was done.

However, he did not speak of you.

Of course, with two Harbingers present, his secrecy is understandably sound judgment. Nevertheless, even when he attained privacy to speak personally, he finds it hard to disclose about you. Perhaps, it is a draconic instinct to hoard and protect what he has claimed to be his.

The only other individual just as protective over any knowledge of your existence is Ningguang.

After all, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing is also known as your dear older sister.

Ningguang raised you since the beginning, even if she had been a mere child herself. Your parents are never spoken, and you never asked. Even when you find yourself in comparison to other children with mothers and fathers, your older sister was always all you needed and wanted. Tirelessly, she carried you on her back while her arms were occupied by a basket of wares to be sold. Barefoot, she journeyed from the sands of Yaoguang Shoal to the main capital of Liyue Harbor to make ends meet. Every weekend, you will both scavenge anything that can be sold.

The first gift she ever bought you was an intricate erhu of the best craftsmanship.

It had been your smiles that told her everything will be worth the effort. It had been your songs that soothed the ache of muscles and the weariness of mind. It had been your words that invigorated her ambition to become something more.

“I love you, jiejie!”

“…I love you too, meimei.”

Nothing would stop Ningguang from rising to the top and giving you the life you deserve.

Time is cruel to mortals and always issues a test of faith to see them thrive. In one such incident, it has been proven that you and Ningguang are true sisters in every sense of the word. Her determination can only be rivalled by yours, and the resolve which shine like stars in your eyes is unconquerable.

Your older sister had once fallen to sickness. She refused to tell you where she kept the money, not wanting to waste it to buy medicine. You furiously argued with her about it but nothing could change her mind. Thus, at the dark of night, you treaded the path towards Jueyun Karst. The entire map of Liyue has been engraved in your mind since you could walk. Even when nothing but black greets your blank eyes, it would have been child’s play to travel into the abode of adepti.

That is, of course, if not for the adepti’s indignant anger at your trespassing.

Fortunately, you stole a Sigil of Permission.

“My sister is ill,” you told them, “and I require your aid to concoct a medicine.”

You will never know that what eventually convinced them is how gold illuminated your form. It channels your soul, and then solidifies into a circlet. At its center, a Geo Vision proudly sparkled.

Mountain Shaper thus led you to collect herbs that you would need. Moon Carver carried you on his back while Cloud Retainer flew towards Yaoguang Shoal with Ganyu on hers to check on your sister. In the distance, the Conqueror of Demons obliterated all other threats that may come your way.

By morning, Ningguang was on a road to recovery and you thanked the adepti by playing your erhu for them every day.

Amongst these private performances, you ended up in Guili Plains alone.

A melody has been haunting your dreams. It is very melancholic yet profoundly moving, like a promise between lovers. The composition began to write itself in the abyssal void of your sight. Then, it played smoothly by your delicate hands on the strings. Your voice echoed across the plains, bequeathing a sense of serenity that mortals rarely have talent to supply.

Once again, the Lord of Geo has been enchanted as he listened to your lullaby.

“Milord, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Your inquiry was met with silence, but you can still feel his piercing eyes on you. Thankfully, you are patient as you are resilient.

The sound of footsteps made your ears perk up. You could not stop yourself from tilting your head to the direction of its origin. The omnipotence of adeptal energy dominated the air, making you dazed for a few seconds. However, there was a charming scent that you recognize. It belongs to a wild glaze lily, one especially helped to bloom by music.

Morax paused before where you sat, staring into your curious gaze looking up at him. The blindness clouded them yet your earnest intrigue made them shimmer glamorously. Autumn ginkgo leaves rain upon you whom sat beneath the shade of its tree, and he whom loomed over your mortal form. He lifts the glaze lily in his hand to bless its petals with a chaste kiss. Then, he slowly presents it to you.

A steady hand tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, planting the flower as an ornament. Your sensitive skin felt the callouses that must be from a lifetime of battle and slaughter. Alas, your cheeks only flush brightly at their tender caress. His fingertips glide through your tresses very subtly, giving you agency to pull away from his touch.

Morax pulls a lock of hair towards his lips, giving it the same attention as he did the glaze lily.

Then, with a promising smile, he lets go—

—and then vanishes in a blink.

That encounter was the first of many secrets you kept from your older sister.

A week later, a gentleman named Zhongli introduces himself to you. You narrow your eyes in suspicion and confusion. His presence, the aura of Rex Lapis, is unmistakable to you. Nevertheless, you respond with quiet acceptance while listening to his pulse settle down in relief.

It was not your place to question an archon anyway, nor is it your responsibility.

Aside from music, you always held fascination for botany. After refusing your sister’s offer to live with her in the Jade Chamber, she built you an estate with a large garden and a quaint greenhouse. From here, you have invented a unique art known as Geo Crystalline Preservation. You use the flowers in your garden to crystallize them with your Vision, but retain their scent like a real flower. By this method, you manage to pluck wild glaze lilies and preserve their natural fragrance after cultivation.

Your first specimen was the glaze lily gifted by your archon, now a part of your circlet.

Suddenly, wild glaze lilies were being revived to its former vast numbers in your garden.

Your artform can be applied to anything too. It can become a stained glass decor, a clothing design, an unwilting bouquet, and even a way to preserve food ingredients. For this reason, your fresh business had immediately made connections with all sorts of exchange across Liyue Harbor. In turn, you have developed a very reliable information network that answers to nobody but yourself. Twice, a visit from Yelan made your heart swell with pride to know you have information that eludes her.

Zhongli was more of a consultant or an advisor who directs you to the most beneficial proposals. It can be most helpful whenever you felt lost in making critical decisions that require more tact. He even made it possible for you to create a strong alliance with the Feiyun Commerce Guild. A part of you is still uncertain if that was worth the hassle that the esteemed Young Master Xingqiu tends to bring to your doorstep.

By the words of Rex Lapis, the core foundation of contracts is fairness. Thus, you asked Zhongli what he wants in exchange for his hard work.

“I only wish for your company,” Zhongli replied, “and—if you would allow it—a chance to court you.”

A gentle kiss lands upon your forehead. It brought back flashes of your first meeting under the ginkgo tree, when he was a god rather than a mortal. You used names to keep them separate, yet this moment has proven that Zhongli is Rex Lapis and Morax.

A cor lapis by any other name would nonetheless be as resplendent.

Then, two years later, he proposed and you said yes.

That resulted to an interesting private discussion between Zhongli and Ningguang. Neither of them disclosed any details other than the fact your sister gave her sincere blessings for the marriage. The wedding was reserved yet was also nothing short of extravagant. The collaboration of your sister and husband had you expecting nothing less, if you were being honest.

Another year later, the final Rite of Descension turns into a Rite of Parting.

You knew of Zhongli’s plan. He had to confide the details to you, excluding the Tsaritsa’s contract. It was the only way to persuade you into staying in Wangshu Inn for a few weeks, to make sure you do not get caught in the crossfire. He promises his intervention if all goes awry, if it endangers your sister as well as the rest of Liyue Harbor.

Then, it was all over.

Zhongli came home to kiss you with fervor you have never felt from him since your wedding night.

Later, the geo lines on his arms pulse with luminous glow in your marital bedroom. It reflected upon his amber eyes, pupils alternating between slits and dilation as his instincts purred. He closed his eyes with an inaudible sigh before projecting himself into your dreamscape.

As a blind person, you have an odd way of dreaming.

You only hear amidst the abyss and a composition always reverberates. When visited by him, everything gets reconstructed to a meadow of glaze lilies. At its heart is a Statue of the Seven. He had learnt that the imagery of stars twinkling above your heads is a sign that his own dreamscape had begun to merge with yours. A golden aurora borealis emanated pure geo energy, representing elemental resonance.

Always, the Geo Archon finds himself replacing his own self on the statue when he visits. He opens his eyes to the perspective of the statue. The illusionary Memory of Dust remains afloat beside him with a few geo crystalflies. He shall always find you fast asleep, wearing a hanfu composed of his colors. At times, your head is only resting on the armrest or his lap; and other times you are already in his arms.

Then, he cradles you closely while he listens to the tunes you dream. He has grown familiar with most of them through your erhu. A few would puzzle him, and he would then realize they are your unfinished compositions.

There was also one other reason he strictly kept you far from the events in the harbor.

You are with child.

Zhongli recalls the time you discussed the concept of illumination with him. It is the method of possibly enlightening a mortal to become an adeptus. The topic of you becoming immortal was only broached once and never again. Your own perspective in the matter was irrelevant, mostly because you were incompatible for the procedure. Although far from being an invalid, your constitution is far from ideal for such arduous illumination.

The Lord of Geo was overjoyed when you relayed the news of your pregnancy the first time. Alas, when the celebratory mood had gone, the slap of reality finally registered.

This will be a difficult ordeal for you, carrying a child that is half-adeptus.

Yanfei was conceived and born by a human mother, delivered through a complicated pregnancy. The health concerns never seemed to end, and her mother’s miraculous survival was only thanks to her tenacity according to her father. Even then, she is a mortal woman in perfectly good health.

If you were not capable of undergoing illumination, can you even survive this pregnancy?

No matter the answer though, Zhongli knows you are determined to persevere. For the sake of the life within your womb, you will endure all the hardships that will be thrown your way.

That fact is why he fell in love with you.

Perhaps, there was one thing he could do to help you even if it was not a full illumination.

As he once did for Azhdaha, the Lord of Geo can bless you the gift of sight.

You can see your child when they are born.

Zhongli lifts his head from where it rested on your crown. He tilts your chin up to gaze upon your visage and feel your breath against his skin. His fingertips grazed your eyelids, and the golden light of his geo energy engulfs the dreamscape. As everything fades into white, he leans down so his lips meet yours…

…and then, you both awaken.

However, for the first time, the haunting darkness that usually welcomed you has been replaced with color.

You saw a man hovering over you, lips millimeters apart from yours. Dark brown hair is embellished with honey gold, long strands gliding over his toned shoulders. Sharp amber eyes glared into yours, an unreadable sheen making them glow. Your hand reaches up to touch his pale cheek, thumb tracing the red outlining his gaze.

You realize. This is your husband.

“Zhongli…!” You gasped, tears in your eyes.

He smiles like a breathtaking work of art, a godly beauty that blessed you to be his wife.

“Hello, tian xin.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him into an ecstatic embrace and blissful kiss. He obliges, taking all you have and giving you all that is his.

Someday, you will no longer stay by his side.

Nevertheless, the proof of your existence will live through your child—and so will the love, the miracle that conceived them, which you shared with him. As such, you will continue to shine like gold in his memories forevermore.

This is not a mere contract, but a solemn promise that even Celestia can never break—

“My memories of you are treasures not even erosion can steal away.”

•~•~•

KAMISATO AYATO is a man whose heart seeks an equally capable partner. The idea of one day having to choose another half is something to consider as part of his duty. After all, the head of a noble clan is responsible for ensuring that its bloodline continues to prosper. To sire an heir, he must someday select a bride. His choice will lead to the rise of a matriarch within the Kamisato Clan. It must be a woman with the caliber to lead as the gentle hand of the Yashiro Commission to his iron fist. A fierce yet kind soul is necessary to command the Shuumatsuban in his place should the need ever arise. Furthermore, if he must eventually settle for a loveless marriage, his desire is to at least gain a lifelong friend. They must have the same depth of loyalty to his family, and the same steadfast resolve to uphold their principles.

Otherwise, he is very certain any other whom wishes to stand by his side will only break. With how he acts and carries himself, the people of Inazuma are more inclined to agree. Indeed, a wife less than up to par would be nothing short of disappointing.

Be that as it may, the Yashiro Commissioner can be a complicated man to love.

Ayato is a man who lives his life wearing a thousand masks, with little to no distinction between his true self and facades. At the early deaths of his parents, he was a young boy that had been forced into the lethal grind of political battles. To protect his little sister, he took up the blade to eliminate those who threaten them amidst the power struggle.

Just like that, his heart became a closely guarded vault privy to a trusted few.

Loving Ayato is likened to water, the same element he wields as weapon and shield. In calm days, he is transparent and clear to see. In chaotic nights, his own motives are harder to understand. There are times he can be as volatile as rapids, and others be as nurturing as a cool spring.

The most dangerous thing about loving Ayato is if you allow yourself to drown in him.

Alas, all of Inazuma is left dumbfounded when he abruptly announces his marriage to you.

The Yashiro Commissioner had gone missing for a week. A note with his penmanship claims he has a personal errand to run. Then, he returns to the estate—holding your hand while another clenches a scroll, sealed by the wax insignia of the Narukami Shrine and the Raiden Shogun. A glance at your respective hands reveal the glint of silver wedding bands, with camellia flower engravement filled by white jade.

Kamisato Ayato eloped with you.

“From here onwards,” Ayato declared, “[Name] shall be living in the Kamisato Estate as my wife. Please treat her with the same respect you do for me.”

The idea seems to intimidate you, a frown tugging your lips. Your husband, however, squeezed your hand in reassurance. Pacified, you end up snuggling your cheek onto his arm. The action is successful in grounding your senses, focusing on Ayato’s scent and body heat. He obliges this by gently pulling you closer, practically trapping your own arm to his side.

Ayaka hid a smile of amusement behind her fan, as her eyes softened in endearment.

“Of course, brother.” She replied.

Thoma nodded, beaming in welcome as you peeked at him and the young miss. Despite their slightest reservation upon this rushed turn of events, they trust Ayato.

Although, the Shirasagi Himegimi cannot help but feel you looked somewhat familiar.

You are a very peculiar woman, especially in a nation as conservative and traditional as Inazuma. In fact, some believe you seem more like an antithesis to your husband. Whereas he is always poised and very composed, there is always an untamed ferocity in you that refuses to comply to social norms. You can nevertheless dress as elegantly as any other noble aristocrat, speak as eloquently as any well-educated lady. If not for your infamous eccentricities, nobody would have doubted why Ayato chose you. It is quite renowned that you shamelessly stroll Inazuma’s main city in a commoner’s yukata—a messy bun for a hairstyle, and sometimes going barefoot. You despise social events and acted more elusive than your mysterious husband.

The servants were initially wary yet none of them can deny your positive influence. The household has never been so efficient and organized until you took on managing its affairs. Thoma was astonished to realize that he ended up with more free time under your authority. The meticulous way you stick to a form of schedule and your quick wit to adapt have enabled the Kamisato Estate to operate smoothly, with or without the siblings present. In fact, some unique tasks you assign to Thoma aided him into securing businesses in Ritou. As equal exchange for your patronage, you have flawlessly expanded the Shuumatsuban’s spy network.

Ayaka also found respite in her endeavors as face of the clan. She initially had a difficult time with being your mentor of sorts in the life of nobility. However, your creativity in problem solving and quick wit has been such help in balancing her own matters.

Thoma began to understand your ways when he has become in charge of all your meals. There is a set routine for every day of the week, and then a specific assortment of snacks with tea expected at certain hours. Each ingredient is meticulously picked and every dish is carefully prepared. If even one thing is out of place, you will notice with a single bite/sip and you would refuse to eat—which results to a very moody mistress for the rest of the estate.

It was only thanks to how well Ayato knew you that everyone else was able to keep up. He is aware of all factors to your behavior and how to aptly respond to them. His stern yet precise instructions left no room for mistakes if it meant taking care of you properly in his absence. It was as if he grew up with you due to the sheer amount of experience he has in how to deal with your odd patterns.

As months passed, Ayaka finally realized.

That is because her brother did grow up with you.

Ayato met you long ago when he was a mere lonely boy, burdened with the title of clan heir. He found you digging around the beach near his estate, an Electro Vision on your waist. A line of seashells were set on a flat rock beside you, all arranged by type as rows and by size as columns.

You glanced up at him. Your Vision flickers, making him tense—

—and then lightning struck the sands.

As a boy, Ayato watched in awe as the grains turned into glass. You manipulated the temperature of the element, heating the sand in quick seconds to create multiple pieces. He ended up getting closer, and it was enough to spook you. After you were finished, you hastily stood up and collected your things before sprinting away.

“Wait…!” Ayato exclaimed.

You did not listen.

The young master pouted, thinking he would never see you again. It was a shame since he found you so fascinating. He looked down and saw some strange hollow tubes in the shores, resembling coral.

That day, he went home a little despondent.

Ayato was pleasantly surprised to see you again the next day—same place, same hour. You are polishing the shells this time, and occasionally refining them to the shape you want. Small pots of paint surround you, and the Electro Vision is pulsing to be used at any given notice.

This time, you did not run when he got close.

“Fulgurite.”

He flinches as you suddenly spoke. Your eyes were focused on the glass tubes he picked up. They hung from the string of his obi now, which got odd looks from his parents a while ago.

“These…?”

You nodded, “They are fulgurites. You can use them to make jewelry. Want to see?”

That was the start of a beautiful friendship.

Ayato figures out your schedule and how you like sticking to it, so he never misses out when to visit you. It was something you never minded as long as he remained consistent. The times when he did not get the memo, you got annoyed and told him harshly to stop showing up. At first, he felt hurt since he misunderstood. Thankfully, he was mature enough to clarify it with you. Since then, he promised his arrival only on particular days wherein he can assure his free time. At his words, you acted less bothered by his presence and worked on your craft.

The two of you grew up together in those constant stolen moments. He finds out you have a younger brother, and he tells you he has a younger sister. On weekends, you are not on the beach. That is the only time your brother is able to spend time with you instead of honing his swordsmanship.

In stormy days, he had to struggle pulling you into the estate. Every time, he braced himself for your ire but patiently coaxes you over it. The most effective method is to occupy your mind with something else, and let your hands be busy crafting. Once you are fixated, Ayato can be allowed into your safe space again and he is able to take care of you. Henceforth, rainy days are spent in his estate and that became the new norm for your daily routine. Ayato adapts into creating amendments for your unhealthy habits.

You still persistently argue that storms are perfect for making petrified lightning glass.

Nevertheless, you express gratitude for his sincere care and affection. No one has ever been so doting on you aside from your brother. In turn, Ayato felt touched that you treat him as one of the only two people you explicitly trust. You even adjust yourself to be considerate of his own needs, despite the clear discomfort it sometimes caused you.

When his parents died, you were his greatest pillar of support.

Ayato has always known to never underestimate you in any way. What made you different did not make you dumb. In fact, it is revealed in that dark period that you were more brilliant than your peers. It was only thanks to your guidance that he found direction how to proceed. It was due to your judgment that he knew who to trust, which ties needed to be severed for safety. Every critical decision was consulted by you, and he was awed when the results you predict come to fruition. When his demons made him lose sleep, you provided relief by playing with his hair.

When he finally triumphed in the succession, you gave him a precious gift.

You smiled. Of utmost sincerity, you smiled ever so sweetly and so warmly.

That is the day Ayato knew you were the one.

Unfortunately, he had taken too long to confess that to you. Too many years slipped past his fingers due to his obligations.

Then, the Vision Hunt Decree happened—

—and you went missing.

A young man named Kaedehara Kazuha barged into his estate, panicked and distressed. He called for Ayato, kneeling as he pleaded for help in finding his older sister—you. The wind has gone silent regarding your whereabouts, and he feared the worst due to the recent decree.

Of course, the Yashiro Commissioner wasted no time in utilizing his power to be of aid.

It was for naught.

Soon, he could not even protect your brother when the young man was branded as a wanted criminal.

Kazuha witnessed the love Ayato holds for you—a passion he deems worthy of his kin. He knew of the bond you shared with him, which is why he came to the man for help. Meeting the man personally, the winds crooned in approval—to which the ronin only smiled, a little resigned yet mostly relieved.

Someone else can take care of you now.

“Aneue spoke of you fondly.” He said, “If anyone can find her, it’s you.”

The younger male presents him a box.

“She called it a tassel chime,” Kazuha explained, “and referred to that piece as Rainmaker.”

It contains a small windchime in the size and design of a tassel, thus the name. A single clamshell ties the knot for the top noose. Camellias on rippling waters is carved onto the blue glass, painted with glittering golden lacquer. Rather than a striker, a ball of glowing white jade is inside the spherical glass with a cowrie shell at its base. The tail is a familiar indigo satin ribbon, his gift to you on the last Irodori Festival. His name is embroidered in your favorite fulgurite threads, and yours on the other side:

Kaedehara [Name].

Ayato knew this is the equivalent of a blessing. He ties it to his sword, aware by use of elemental sight that the energy within it will prevent the glass from breaking even in a skirmish. He makes a promise to your brother that he will stop at nothing to find you, and then ask for your hand.

Eventually, he did.

You stood in an abandoned temple amidst the call of summer. The crystalflies illuminated your form, and the water shimmered like liquid diamonds. The tinkling sounds echoed in Chinju Forest, as the sails of windchimes blew with the nightly breeze.

“[Name]…”

At the call of your name, you turned to face him and Ayato embraces you immediately.

“I want to go home.” You murmur.

The broken tone of your voice devastated him, and he nods while tightening his arms. You hugged him back, hiding your face on his chest while his nuzzled your shoulder.

“Yes, let’s go home now.” He whispered.

The Yashiro Commissioner spared nothing at your expense. He used the name of Kamisato to protect you. As his wife, you are an integral part of the Tri-Commission and one with the Raiden Shogun’s faction. You cannot be touched by the decree like your brother feared. Although you desire no riches, Ayato sought to provide something that will soothe your unease at the drastic changes in your life.

Thus, in an isolated wing of the estate, there was your personal workshop.

A safe haven. All for you.

Ayato leaned back with you in his arms, cuddling by the veranda. You were sorting through your brother’s letters, worried, and missing him dearly. Looking up at your husband, he smiles and kisses you fervently.

“I’m here.” He reassures.

You wrap your arms around his neck in response, snuggling his chest to nap. He adjusts you on his lap and rewraps the blanket around you. His long fingers comb through your hair, humming contently.

Heartbound lullabies in hiraeth, ever so mellifluous—

“You are my clarity amidst sullied waters, a wish to forever keep.”

#submission #not written by me but this never fails to impress!#genshin x reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x fem!reader #ayato x reader #zhongli x reader

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universeskies · 1 month

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This is Pearl Solo Chapter for The story between @thejaytapes and I! OF Hooked on to You! Hope Y'all enjoy!

The sounds of the critters at night were always quite the melody for the kind of night that anyone much like Pearl Houziki, upcoming Idol and... as of now Solo Idol was seen walkiing around the city of Inkopolis. A few Inklings then and there were whispering. They could at least recognize Pearl Houziki, but deep down, she knew why. All those whispers, wondering and spreading gossip about what truly was supposed to be Pearl.

"And on the latest news, Upcoming Idol of the Calamary Country, Pearl Houziki, self-claimed MC Princess, had released the new hit single...uhhhh, can We even say that on live TV? Surely we can't... Anyways, thats definitely not important for now. Her hit solo with the song has been on quite the rise and a bit of controversy by some managers. Expressing quite unease at the bold decision with a title like that."

On the big screen of the entire city and Pearl's "TCH!" was louder than everything He could just express and keeping it civil around lots of folks that would turn around to face Her.

Taking a Cake break with some cookie crumbles and her favorite top glaze being just a strawberry-flavor one, He sits down to ease away Her worries. However, as per say Her dreams and goals be on teh way now, Pearl definitely was the topic and trend as of now, yet for not exactly what the MC Inkling had expected. Nonetheless, A step is a step, and Pearl was used to the many talks behind Her back. Deeply though, the Upcomer Inkling had yet to get used to being compared time and time again for the so famous Squid Sisters.

"Pop idols, and pop music and they expect me to do the same shit they do and then I'll be the copy catfish. Fuck that." Pearl groans and mumbles before putting away her phone and getting to enjoy the strawberry cake of His.

The day was just beginning yet for Himself, it was far from being told in what He needed to do rather than what She wants to do. Just like that, Pearl's cellphone makes it be known with a ding! As there was a New notification from one of Her bandmates.

"we need 2 talk. cmere asap"

Pearl sighs at the text. Does The text meant anything good or some more resistance? Who would know. Perhaps for The MC Princess, it could be something Good, She could Hope.

"WHAAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN, I'M OUT OF THE BAND?!?!"

The shout was louder than ever, and the clear yet furious tone on Pearl was the most calmest that the Punk Idol could do.

"Pearl, its either You or the band. You know well that We really didn't like that title and You STILL refuse to change it!"

"NONE OF YOU DECIDED ON THE NAME! I WAS THE ONE THAT WROTE IT TOO! I even made SURE to let y'all in WHATUVER Y'ALL WANT'O DO!!"

"Pearl thats exactly it. Listen, You can kick us and then do label it like that, but We can't. Just being in a band with You isn't really the best for Us."

Pearl couldn't believe Her eyes and or ears. Once again, he was faced with the same old difficulty. Same old situation. Same old circumstance.

Alone as The band once again disbanded.

She has tried it all. He has wrote and dedicated and yet not any kind of band can stick through. "Solo Idols aren't really a thing, there has to be at least a duo or a band. You have to have Simeone on with You, thats The freshest way, Pearl. You either are fresh or they won't take You seriously. The music world is harsh AND You would Just get kicked out, dearie. Don't worry though, Your spunk is something unmatched. I'm sure You will find that, but unless You find it, We can't do much for songs."

Her manager tried and tried again with every encourage, but for how long? How long must Pearl endure it? If anything, the Punk Inkling had just wondered how incredible patient must be to wait and still keep on going. And thats what would make Pearl keep on strolling, but once again... He was met with a Stalemate in this checkboard of the Singing world where the next move, will have to plan on according to what would be the World's move. Fate can say lots of many new things. And yet Pearl finds Herself once again boiling it all up. "FINE!! BE LIKE THAT!!" She shouts but yet Not everything was out. Pearl had more. There is only so much He can take yet despite having The freedom to do so, The chains of being put against a Splatana was SO MUCH, She only wants TO scream. Scream and Never stop.

Pearl found himself just relaxing and laying on the branch of a Tree at the noon. Not sure on what to do. Not sure what will be the next one. He just ponders at the moon. "Coddamnit...not again. not again with this shit."

Night came in at Mount Nantai and Pearl still kept on pondering on the tree. Crossed arms, and just looking at the only accompany of the almost sunlight eclipsed by the dark starry skies.

*"SERIOUSLY?! You settled on FOR THIS TITLE?!"*

*"ARGHHHH! MY EARS! This is a SINGING Competition! Not the SQUIDBEAK ARMY! NEXT!"*

*"Pearl Houziki is said to be this new upcoming idol, but I really don't see the vision with Her going all so punk and loud. Louder and screaming really isn't music. Maybe with directions by the Squid Sisters, She could triumph like them, but then again, its already hard to compete against really talented duo like them."*

*"Maybe one day, who knows? Pearl's music can turn around, but until She stops being that braddish and loud that doesn't know how to clam down, then I see no future. At least the Houziki Companies will be a good back up for Her just in case!"*

More and more and each thought getting louder and louder. Pacing around the Seemingly rocky path that Mt Nantai was well recognized for. A territory that yet any Inkling had yet to see more. A territory that the Houzikis had well sought for and trying on to buy a lot.

"HHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" With a really cursed and loud seething. It wasn't much that Pearl could just shout louder and louder.

"FUCK OOOOOOOOOFF!!!"

The more than obvious Scream made a HUGE ramble against the mountains and the grass. It was like an earthquake for anyone surrounding it. Some drops were seen from the chin of Her face. "I HAD ENOUGH. I COULD CARE LESS! I DON'T WANT BE ANYONE!! BUT...Me...." Her strong Killer-Wail like voice making a scene to ruckus and shaking of everything that the road was. Unbeknownst...the surface down there, seemingly seem to crumble more. Like something trying to punch it out from the inside.

"I could care less what the shell they think of Me. I'm not changing. I don't....huh?"

The shake got more than apparent and stronger. Making everything just crumble, and some bright-blue colored ink launching upwards.

"WHOA!! WHAT THE CLAM IS?!?!" Pearl barely dodged and tried to get Her Enperry Dualies from the belt He had, but he lost the footing. And the Punk Idol, couldn't grab at anything. He felt and just saw the sight of everything that was once the surface...fade and get further away.

Everything was black. There was a void of anything, but Pearl could make out something...

"S-SURRENDER! In-Inkling Invader!!" Pearl was barely conscious, but He could see now...something She didn't expect.

A beautiful curly tentacled hair...Octo? It didn't had the Squid mask, and the hair as well the eyes that could barely glow. A glow that made Her eyes return with full of color. Pearl could see that just like She was getting point at by what seemed a .52 gal, yet despite it...

"Wh-Whoa....what a beautiful angelfish." Its all She could make out before She fades into unconsciousness.

#splatoon #off the hook #pearl houzuki #marina ida #pearlina #pearlina au #hooked on to you au #skies writing

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ofmanycol0rs · 8 months

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↶*ೃ✧˚. Hello everyone! Welcome back to another video with LuckieDuckie. Today we will be discussing Rainbow Entertainment’s Best Eras!

As a disclaimer so people don’t come for me in the comments: this is in no particular order. I’m not ranking these eras, just factually stating that they are the best. Also, if you don’t agree with me, I don’t care. Keep it to yourself, I don’t want to see a million comments like “Duckie! Where’s blah blah? Where’s… Chu?” It’s up your [redacted]. Don’t try and tell me I’m wrong either because respectfully… I’m not. Anyway.

Starting off strong, we have LOVE DIVE!

LOVE DIVE! Is That Girl for a reason. Not only was she literally SOTY (4 times btw), but she had the vibes to back it up. I was a big fan of the ethereal cupid aesthetics they had going on and the styling just always looked so expensive. I’m a Chaehee stan, but Blue’s Hime Cut look was literally unmatched. Even the b-sides went crazy this era, with the iconic Sour Grapes taking over everyone’s For You pages. This song was actually inescapable for months, so of course this era had some iconic moments too. My personal favorite moment was Summer’s solo live ban being instated after she called Angelico’s Jinhwa a “fucking weirdo” in front of 45 million Dream. Free her tbh, she did nothing wrong!

Next up… Neverland’s Sugar Rush!

This song was so addicting honestly, the concept, the vocals, the dance, the silly little whistle chorus, it all ate down. We all know where we were when those shirtless concept pics dropped. The whole Peter Pan vibe obviously went with their concept as a whole, but how do I get to that woodland raver’s paradise? Where do I buy tickets? One thing about Neverland is they’re throwing a party and I need an invite. Speaking of parties, the iconic MakoDae club pics dropped this era. All I’m saying is that you can’t prove the girl throwing ass on Mako isn’t me.

Next, we have my favorite Eunji era, Forgive Me.

Honestly, I don’t really stan Eunji like that. I won’t deny that she is the superior Golden Goose producer, of course. But I don’t know all that much about her. What I do know is that whoever this song is about is going straight to hell. She ate them up, your honor! The rock instrumentals had me so shaken when I first listened to this song that I couldn’t stop listening to this song. Ginger Eunji in her rockstar era was peak cunt, The Revenge Era was so serious for her. Not to mention, this song had the most iconic performance of all time. If you haven’t seen it yet, immediately look up Eunji Halloween Bash Forgive Me Carrie. It will change your life. Miss girl is a performer.

Next up is one of Lucky’s most iconic eras, which is difficult to say because they’re all so iconic, I know… but I mean Ping-Pong!

This era could get the title solely from the styling. So many people love to hate it, but they just do not see the camp of it all! The bright pink and blue hair duo lives in my head constantly. I fear Kpop may never see styling so creative and unique again… Someone please rescue Hidae from 4Luvs because they are literally the most hated duo even though they make the cuntiest comebacks! I need them back together asap. Not to mention, these two have the best chemistry. And who could forget the iconic Twister video dropped this era. This video was so divisive among fans but I personally think they looked like they were having a lot of fun answering all the questions while playing Twister. We all know how those two treat competitions and they were undeniably getting flirty up in there, liiiike…

The Song of the Summer is up next… La Vie’s Fruit Salad!

This song is It. One of Rainbow’s most iconic songs by far. I don’t think there’s a single kpop stan out there that doesn’t know this song or even this dance. Honestly, they were the queens of summer before, but this song just solidified their title and made them simply unbeatable. No one else can ever wear the crown when this song exists. The concept and styling is also so perfect, one of my favorites out of La Vie, with the bright colors and quintessential summer vibes. Red-haired Tomi still rules my heart, honestly, and Sohee’s baby bangs were so quirky and cute. One of my favorite variety shows from RBE also comes from this era, I find myself rewatching Lovie’s Fruit Stand all the time. I think it’s so nice to see them getting time to rest and doing fun summer activities together, and its just so nostalgic to me.

Next we have Roly Poly by XOX!

Listen… I know they were flops. But they served with this one, I can't lie! They had no budget, no fans, and no future. All they had was a dance floor and a dream, and yet they still had fun with it. This was the age of camp and techno and XOX ran with it. And in doing so, they created every single RBE idol’s go-to karaoke song. It almost seems like an inside joke at the company because there is at least 2 videos of every single group covering or dancing to this song. And now she’s made her way on to TikTok and the legacy lives on. Everyone say RIP XOX, you will always be famous. Kind of.

Up next is Thee Lucid! Era… TOMBOY!

This is their most iconic era by far and if you think I’m wrong then argue with the wall or something. The song, the styling, the lyrics, the message, the music video, the performances, the moments… need I go on? I fear they ate the whole industry up with this comeback and the industry knew it too! I guarantee you that every single one of yall’s favs was caught doing this dance. Just the sheer amount of people, specifically men, that this song pissed off already puts her high up on my cuntiest songs roster and that was before they went on national television and said fuck! Speaking of fuck, Lucid! did not give a single one this era. My personal favorite Blue moment happened this era when sasaengs leaked pictures of her and Youngho leaving practice for together before their collab stage dropped and sparked dating rumors, and the Next Day she posted “ew wtf? him of all men?” on her public Instagram story on accident… which then started a nuclear fan war on Twitter. Dare I say; iconic. The Tomboy vibes had possessed the whole group I fear, because even Chaehee got man-hating rumors after she ignored Haruki’s hand to help her down the steps at a music show. Not to mention, Minji’s rap verse got so much shit and yet every single time she took her cutesy ass to center stage and ate down. I could literally go on and on about how much I love this era for hours, so if you want to hear more, click the link in the description for my full explanation on why it was the best era kpop has seen from the fourth generation.

Anyway. Next up is La Vie’s Fancy You!

This era was directly after Fruit Salad which means they had a tough act to follow… yet they absolutely came through. They were giving galactic space princesses, rulers of the cosmos, sparkling amongst the stars. Basically… they served. Tomi and Mari’s pink and purple hair duo is still one of my favs and don’t even get me started on the styling. Gogo boots and sequins and hot shorts, god. It was so cunty. And this era isn’t one of their best just because of the concept (even though that is one of their best too) but the vibes. The song and instrumental produced by the iconic ROZE Mari duo that gags to this day. It seems like every 6 months the song is back on TikTok for its cunty instrumentals or choreography. The Anya Kai dating rumors first started this era and you really just had to be there. The entire kpop world imploded on itself. Speaking of Anya Kai dating rumors, my favorite Sol video of all time is from this era in her cute blue highlights making a face in the back of an interview when Kai is brought up… EXO-Ls came for her for weeks until she finally took to Twitter to tell them she doesn’t give a shit about boy groups and their stans with internalized misogyny complexes! If that’s not mother I don’t know who is.

Next, we have DAZED, a Neverland classic.

Remember when I said that one thing Neverland is gonna do is throw a party? Well this is That Party. Out of all 130 million views of this mv, I’m probably 26 million of them. It’s so addicting with the concept and the cinematography… like what are you doing if you show up to this hot guy’s rager birthday party and find out that him and his friends are faeries after you drink their wine and dance for eternity? The ACoTaR girlies (me) went wild for this one, let me tell you. I loved the way they took their whole Neverland Lost Boys concept and twisted it to give us faeries which totally works but it’s also something new? They gave the girls what they want! Howie absolutely owned this era, especially after an edit of him as Rhysand went viral and he had to google the series on live when people asked him about it. I still think about that clip of him saying “What do you mean fairy porn?” every single day.

Finally, last but certainly not least, is the best Rainbow era of all time. NEW WAVE.

I know I said I wasn’t ranking them and all that and that is still true, but… this era is inarguably the best out of all of them so I had to put it last. And of course I'm not biased just because I ult Lucky. I’m convinced that Jung Jisoo tried acid for the first time and then came up with this concept based off of that. And I support it. She was Euphoria before her time, a true masterpiece of neon glitter and debauchery. If I could pick one place anywhere on the space time continuum to live out the rest of my days, it would be the set of this mv. They were literally taking shots in the making video. This song was nearly banned from broadcasts and I’m still surprised that Lucky hasn’t had one of their songs banned yet. Queens Eunbi and Jisoo just know the exact line between cunt and can’t, I guess. This era gave the vibes of the early 2000s club craze tabloid era in the best way both in the concept and for the members. The rumor mill was working over time going after them! Angel was accused of sleeping with fans and cheating on Jennie even though the dating rumors didn’t exist until after the cheating rumors? Sunnie’s gay rumors started this era, although she has since been pretty clear that they weren’t just rumors, LOL. Even baby Han got into one of his first scandals after he got caught with a pack of cigs in his back pocket. The most groundbreaking scandal this era though, one of the only times Lucky has had to issue an apology over the years despite being notorious for saying fuck it, Hiro’s infamous AKB video. Iconic or not, it had impact! But it wasn’t just bad things that came out of this era, of course. It was their most successful ot4 comeback, winning 8 music show wins and PAK as a full group. Plus, they still make room for it on every set list, so they clearly feel the same way about it as 4luvs do. You cannot deny that this era is the most iconic eras of both Lucky and RBE as a whole.

Thank you for tuning in to this video everyone! Feel free to comment below which of these you think is best, or even another one I didn't mention, I guess. But I don't want to see any fighting about it!

Til next time! Mwah!!

find more mentions of jinhwa in the myahverse @venusvity and haruki at @intoloopin !!

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byemambo · 2 months

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We Are Lead Actors as K-Pop Boy Group Concept Photos: A Deep Dive [1/2]

Because I can't be normal about anything, I took it upon myself for self indulgence (rip We Are Wednesdays) to share my takes on which boy group concepts the We Are lead actors are based on their editorials/professional photographs (with my own ideas for future photoshoots). I had a lot of fun with this and if anyone has other comments to add, please feel free to do so!

Pond Naravit as NCT 127 - 2 Baddies

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Pond is such an amazing performer (yeah I see them kpop covers!) and I feel like his vibe definitely suits the more modern take on the hip hop concept. His pictorials from ELLE Thailand suited this perfectly, especially with the accessories (the earrings are my personal favorite). I'd love to see Pond's future editorials showcase more accessories and experiment with pattern and cuts of clothing, but keeping it on the darker side. His hair is also his selling point so styling his hair to show his facial features more is a huge plus.

What I'd Love to See: NCT 127 - Favorite (Vampire)

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Pond's features can be emphasized by playing around with lighting since his clothing is rather simple, or even utilizing motion blur like Taeil's image second on the left. It's also the era of vampire content in QL recently (still mourning over no Boss as a vampire but we have Zomvivor so I guess I'll let it go this one time) so playing around with set design and props would be interesting, even something as simple as the location of the photoshoot itself to take advantage of the architecture.

Phuwin Tangsakyuen as ATEEZ - BOUNCY (K-HOT CHILLI PEPPERS)

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I feel like from the images that I've seen Phuwin in, from his editorials to the fashion brands that named his ambassador like LOEWE, they seem to keep him in a more dapper and polished style such as the Frank Muller photoshoot for the Vanguard Beach watch collection. The green background instantly reminded me of one of the various concepts for ATEEZ's THE WORLD EP.2: OUTLAW EP featuring BOUNCY (K-HOT CHILI PEPPERS) as its title track, but the clothing for ATEEZ is more cyberpunk influenced to fit their alternate universe in their music video and lore. I'd love to see Phuwin take on more experimental fashion for his future editorials but I'm sure that's a big ask given he's very set on what he wants for himself as a person working in the entertainment world, which I heavily respect.

What I'd Love to See: ATEEZ - 멋(The Real) (흥 : 興 Ver.)

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Jongho's hat always sends me but to not take away from Phuwin's dapper style, there can be experimentation with color and pattern with minimal fashion statement accessories. From something as simple as including a turtleneck like San in the second image or adding mismatched pattern like Yeosang's dress shirt in the third image, I think his stylists could include more fun textures into his wardrobe without overwhelming or taking away from his established image.

Winny Thanawin as ONEUS - Baila Conmigo

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I was torn knowing that Winny is overdue for a new editorial since L'Officiel and I need someone to get on the ball with that asap. Although I included both images, ONEUS's La Dolce Vita EP had gorgeous photos for their mermaid concept (which I'm still mad at RBW for not even including it anywhere except the story teaser images like bruh not even in the damn MV or physical album), so I can totally see Winny embracing a more oceanic and beach vibe (just from scrolling his Instagram feed with all sorts of photos of the beach or poolside). Blue being his favorite color is also just a no brainer for this type of concept.

What I'd Like to See: ONEUS - 쉽게 쓰여진 노래 (A Song Written Easily)

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I need the photographer to take this man outdoors, preferably somewhere along the coast to really utilize the sun and ocean breeze. He also deserves to expand more with his blue tones, given that he seems to wear a lot of it just in every day life. If not a denim set, definitely in some cargo shorts with a Hawaiian inspired shirt.

Satang Kittiphop as P1Harmony - 겁나니 (Scared)

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We need to give P1Harmony their flowers because when I saw these Satang photos for KAZZ Magazine, my mind really went to their DISHARMONY: BREAK OUT EP with Scared as the title track. He's also around the members' ages (born between '01 to '05) so if he really wanted to, he could be their secret seventh member (he blends in so well with Keeho in the second image my god). I also think GMMTV should continue marketing Satang's visual image as more tough and badass simply because I find it enjoyable to watch him in series like We Are as the silly goofy little brother archetype while also serving face.

What I'd Love to See: P1Harmony - 때깔 (Killin' It)

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Y'all cannot tell me Satang wouldn't suit the best of both worlds with having his edge while also tying in his more silly image from the characters he's played that we know and love. Whether they achieve this look from fun statement pieces like fur coats or bold colors, I'd think seeing Satang push beyond his edgy image and becoming more experimental with his wardrobe would be insane.

If you made it this far, I really appreciate it! Y'all, I don't know anything about fashion like that so please: don't expect too much out of me. I recognize patterns because I'm neurodivergent and have a hyperfixations LOL so I have to split this post up into two due to the image limit (found here) but otherwise, I hope y'all get to check out new music or groups, or even the genre of K-Pop if you're unfamiliar and want to venture into it. All these groups are extremely talented and deserve all the love and support they can get <3

#we are #we are the series #pond naravit #phuwin tangsakyuen #winny thanawin #satang kittiphop #thai actors #gmmtv actors #gmmtv boys #kpop #nct 127 #ateez #oneus #p1harmony #mambo.speaks

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askinkiskarma · 2 years

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Illicit Affairs | Oneshot: The Moment I Knew

Pairing: Neteyam x Human!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: It's your 17th birthday, and the gift you get from Neteyam is not one you would have ever thought of - or wanted.

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 2k words

A/N: I have been writing a lot of memories for the next few chapters of The Archer, and I found myself writing about the fated 17th birthday, which makes an appearance in Chapter VII of Illicit Affairs. I'm doing a lot of writing atm, I am trying to get the fifth chapter done ASAP, but enjoy this tiny story and insight into the day Neteyam left 🥰.

What do you say when tears are streaming down your face in front of everyone you know?

And what do you do when the one who means the most to you is the one who didn't show…?

And they're all standing around me, singing Happy Birthday to you

But there was one thing missing and that was the moment I knew

You woke up with a big yawn and an hopeful disposition today, your 17th birthday. You wanted to say it was because another year had passed, or because you knew people would be giving you gifts and attention and all sorts of good food today, but if you were being honest with yourself, you knew it was because you got to see Neteyam again.

Neteyam was a great gift giver. He paid attention, and he listened and he cared, so every year, his present was always your favourite. Ever since around your tenth birthday, when he first gifted you an identical bracelet to his, he always managed to surprise you with a perfect gift that made your heart skip a beat - or several. You haven’t seen him since that day, in the clearing, when you sang him that song, and hoped he knew what it meant. You didn’t get to confess the way you wanted to, you cowered at the last minute, but you hoped your birthday courage would allow you to finally tell him the feelings that have plagued you for probably years now.

You were scared. You knew deep down you probably shouldn’t even do it - I mean what was the point? It’s not like you could ever be together anyway, not like he would sacrifice his title and his future mate, the future Tsahik of the Omatikaya for you, a human girl. He couldn’t, you wouldn’t allow him to, so why were you even confessing? At the least it would make everything awkward and at the most it would ruin the best thing that has ever existed in your life. You couldn’t even decide what would be worst - him not reciprocating or him reciprocating? Cause either way it’s hell inbound, and you had enough of that in your life.

Despite everything, though, every nagging thought telling you not to, you wanted to, needed to finally tell him. You would deal with the consequences as they come, but you couldn’t be a coward any longer. If you had to act like you didn’t have a heart attack every time he got close to you, every time he touched you, every time he looked at you in that way, the way that was reserved only for you, you would go crazy forever.

You were happy to see Kiri and Lo’ak, coming by, as they always did, with a big basket of fresh fruit and food, your birthday feast, and staying with you for the day, as they always did. When you were younger, much younger, you used to celebrate in the village, with Jake and Neytiri, but those days are long gone. Later in life, you celebrated in the forest, climbing and hiking, wild and free, but those days were long gone too. Nevertheless, no matter how much you have changed, the care they had for you never diminished, and neither did their desire to celebrate you in whatever form you felt you were able to withstand.

The oldest Sully’s presence did not go remiss in your mind, every moment without him accelerating your worries that something was wrong.

“Hey… where’s Neteyam?”

You saw the siblings exchange a quiet, strange look. Neither of them looked at you as Kiri talked.

“He’s with the hunting party today, he couldn’t get out of it.”

“Today?”

“Yes…”

“But he never has anything going on on my birthday, Jake always makes sure of it.”

“I don’t think it was fully up to dad, Angel… I’m sure he’ll be back later.”

You saw Kiri flash a look of anger towards her brother, and your heart sank a little at the interaction. This was weird, but you thought maybe he was preparing a present for you that would take extra time. It has happened before, but it was always worth it in the end.

The hours passed, and you mostly finished the basket full of food between the three of you, splayed careless on some blankets you brought in the hub as a big projector was playing some of your favourite films. Your mood soured a little throughout the day, regardless how many sweet fruits you have injested, regardless of the calmness of your surroundings and the friendly faces who were attentively watching the latest picture playing on the screen.

As it finished, the two siblings got up, and Lo’ak awkwardly scratched the hair on the side of his head.

“Angel, we have to go, it’s past curfew and we’re -“

“-going to get in trouble with Jake, I know.” You sighed deeply, walking with them to the entrance.

“Thank you for hanging out with me, guys. I had a good time. Thank Neytiri, Jake and Mo’at for the food, and thank you for the gifts, I already love my new bracelet!” You said, twisting your wrist so the beads on the beautiful thread sang when pushed together.

“You’re very welcome. Happy birthday, again, and we’ll see you in a couple of days.”

You didn’t know if you should push it, and, as they were almost out the door, you found your voice again.

“Hey… if you see Neteyam, tell him I’m still waiting. I’ll probably run some experiments, so I’ll be up for a while… in case he still wants to come.”

You didn’t want to see their expressions, too scared to read something that will hurt you on their faces, so you just shut the door and left.

You paced around the labs and hallways and your room for the rest of the night, terrified as you were that you were going to miss Neteyam’s soft knock. He always thought of everything, was always too scared to wake anyone up, or to let anyone know he was sneaking way past curfew to stay with you for the night, before he always had to sneak off again prior to his family getting up and figuring out he was gone. You didn’t want him to be outside, in the cold and dark, with apex predators lurking at every corner, waiting for an opportunity to feast on a particularly good-looking blue boy.

It was dawn when you made it back to your room, feeling emptiness envelop your being, like your soul had been washed out and taken to the cleaners. You sat in your bed, back against the headboard, and thought about the last month. You haven’t seen Neteyam in all that time, ever since that day in the clearing. He had a weird look about him after you sang him the song, but you thought that was just him processing what you were trying to say to him, you thought it was him scared, as you were, about the prospect of more, about the possibility of everything changing between you. You thought he felt the same way, you felt like you were both on the same page - it felt to you that you had both fallen for each other in time, your love blossoming from the friendship that you have always shared into more, much more. Now you realised it wasn’t that which gave him that look. It was most likely the opposite. He knew what you were saying, and didn’t feel the same way.

You haven’t seen Neteyam in all this time. You thought he was training, but he wasn’t. He just didn’t want to see you. He didn’t want to see you anymore.

The way your heart shattered at the thought took your breath out of you, like you got punched in the gut. You didn’t know what to do with this pain, that was so feral and so severe, you genuinely felt like you were going to die. You lay in your bed, gasping for air, grasping at your chest, trying to will your heart to slow down, to piece itself back together, but to no avail. Neteyam was gone. Neteyam left you, without even saying goodbye. Neteyam watched you confess, and decided he wanted nothing else to do with you anymore. You lost him, like you lost your mum and your dad, lost him after 17 years, and you were alone again.

You were alone again.

Neteyam felt throbbing in his head as he woke up that morning, that continued the whole entire day. He took the day off today, knowing he would be unable to focus on anything, knowing that today, you would definitely realise what he has done. It was your birthday, one of his favourite days in the world. It was a day to celebrate you, the light in his life, his Atan, of course he loved it. And now he had to live with knowing his present would be his absence, and that he would have to live with the consequences of ruining this day for you, and the consequences of breaking your heart. His has been long broken, since the second he walked out of that clearing knowing he would never return. After eclipse, he saw his siblings returning with an empty basket, and his heart hurt at the still open and unhealed wounds.

“Brother, are you sure about this?”

He sighed, not being able to look at his baby sister.

“Yes, sister, I am sure.”

“She asked for you.” Lo’ak said. “Multiple times.”

“She said she’ll still be waiting, in case you decide to drop by later.”

“For what is worth, I think this whole thing is stupid. We’re her only family, and now you’re gonna take another person away from her, bro?”

Neteyam winced at his brother’s words, that cut him like a dull knife, painful and rusted, that will never heal, but fester and linger, forever.

“I’m going for a walk.”

“Brother, it’s past curfew.”

“I don’t care, tell mother and father I’m taking Seze out.”

He left in a hurry, unable and unwilling to register the muffled words spoken to him in a blur. He found his ikran immediately and took flight, knowing exactly where he had to go. He made it to the lab in no time, knowing the ride like the back of his hand by now.

He quickly hurried towards the door, thinking he will abandon this whole endeavour and beg for your forgiveness. It would take a while, but you always forgave him. And he could finally tell you that he loved you, that he has been in love with you for so long he’s lost track, and he could kiss you, the way he’s wanted to for so long, and everything else you can just figure out as you go along.

But then, every step he took was a memory he would never be able to ever erase from his mind, every step a recollection of times he’s been here because you were hurt or pained or near death, all because of him. He swore he could still see your dried blood on the stairs leading up to your door from where you were 13 and you fell down his ikran. He could see your limp form in his arms when you collapsed after you found your dad. His hand reached as far as a couple inches from the door before he stopped, and with shard of glass protruding in his already broken heart and tear drops staining his cheeks, he dropped his hand and left. He didn’t go far, though, circling around the big enclosure until he found the window he knew was looking into your room and just sat there, collapsing on the floor with his back against the cold metal, listening to the sound of music coming out of your recorder.

And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

He stayed there, on the cold hard ground, listening to the music playing until dawn, until his heart was empty, until his soul was spent. Until he knew he lost you - forever.

#◘ andra's oneshots/drabbles #༊*·˚ andra's works #☆ andra's series #neteyam #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfic #neteyam reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar twow #avatar fanfic #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam sully fanfiction #neteyam angst #awow #awow neteyam

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whatsnewalycat · 2 years

Text

Psychomanteum / Chapter 7

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Chapter 7: Monster

Chapter Summary: With help from your best friend, Dieter sets a trap to confront you.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 7.9k+

Content / Warnings: alternating POV, talk about addiction, grief, communication problems, drag queens, confrontation, argument, nipple play, piv sex, laugh attack

Notes: Chapter title from "Monster" by Lady Gaga. I wavered between this title and two others for longer than I'd like to admit, but I think Monster is fitting of the Halloween theme. Thank you for reading! You are an angel and I appreciate you.

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The backstage dressing room at Barracuda Bar is in complete chaos.

Half a dozen drag queens are getting into costume and character, scurrying around, painting their faces, half-dressed with padding and layers of nylons and wig caps. Loud conversation and raucous laughter fills the crowded space, barely able to fit so many larger-than-life personalities. Everyone is wired with an undercurrent of excitement and nerves. Only adding to the calamity is “Monster Mash” blaring out of a Bluetooth speaker in the corner.

One of those queens is Parker, who is transforming himself into his drag persona Jackie Lantern. He’s leaning over the vanity, face hovering close to the mirror lined with pictures of Harold Perrineau as Mercutio in drag from the 1996 production of Romeo + Juliet. One eye open, the other closed, he applies white glitter to his eyelid. His mouth is gaping wide in concentration.

Trying not to disturb his zen as you approach, you gently set down the bottle of champagne you brought as a gift on the cluttered vanity, then look around the room with a wide grin, gleefully soaking up the effervescent energy that hangs in the air like a thick fog.

Parker turns towards you, eyeshadow brush in hand as he reads the word from the sign hanging around your neck, “ Sorry? ” and frowns, then meets your eyes, “I don’t get it.”

You look down at your fitted tuxedo and hold your hands out at your sides, then spin around in a circle, thinking maybe if he sees the whole thing it will click. But he just blinks. With a sigh, you explain, “I’m a formal apology.”

The gears visibly turn in his head, and then he throws his head back in laughter, “Oh my god, ok, I see you Midwest.”

You smile wide and nod at him, “I love the Mercutio costume. It’s perfect. Are you doing that song from the movie?”

“You know it,” he winks, then turns back to the mirror and starts on the other eye, “Pop that champagne, love, I’m gonna need it ASAP.”

“Should I get some cups?” you ask him while picking the bottle back up and peeling off the foil wrapper.

“Nah fuck that, we can just take pulls,” he mutters.

You shrug in response and untwist the muselet caged over the cork, “Is Reese coming to see the show?”

“Nope,” he responds with an air of annoyance, “I invited him but he never responded. Probably doing something with his wife .”

The word wife comes out with such venom, you wonder if the woman could feel a shiver run down her spine from across Manhattan.

“Mmm,” is all you respond, not wanting to comment further on the touchy subject. It’s not like you have any room to give dating advice. You tug on the cork of the champagne and it comes off with a POP! that garners a howl of celebration from a neighboring queen.

Parker sets the eyeshadow brush down on the vanity and takes the bottle from your hands, raising it to his lips. He drinks it gingerly enough not to spill champagne down the corners of his mouth, but fervently enough to make you raise your eyebrows.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so nervous for a show before,” you comment as he returns the bottle to your grasp.

He lets out a belch, then winces, “That’s so fucking warm, holy shit.”

In the spirit of commiseration, you take a few swallows of the champagne. Your eyes start watering from the carbonation and you burp, nodding in agreement, “That’s fucking gross.”

“One more,” he mumbles and grabs the bottle, taking another long pull before he returns to his makeup.

You eye him suspiciously. Something is up with him, but he obviously doesn’t want to talk to you about it right now. Normally before a show he’s filled with the same raw, confident electricity powering this room, but right now he’s a bundle of nerves.

“Did you invite your flavor of the week?” he asks, words forming around the tight O of concentration on his mouth.

“Who, Kelly?” you respond, but don’t wait for him to answer before you scoff, “No. She asked me to meet her husband. I’m not trying to get involved with their fucking marriage.”

When Parker turns from the mirror to stare at you blankly, as if to say really, bitch? You add, “No offense. Sorry.”

“The shade,” he chides playfully, then returns to the mirror and asks in a casual manner, “Have you talked to Dieter?”

The question gives you whiplash. Your head spins and heart starts pounding in your chest. That name hasn’t come up in conversation in months.

“No…? Why would I?” You push off of the vanity and cross your arms, turning your body to face Parker so you can study his face.

“Considering the luck you’ve had dating,” he shrugs, but avoids looking at you, “I thought maybe you would reconsider.”

A bewildered chuckle huffs from your chest, then you shake your head, “No fucking way. After what he did-“

“And what did he do, exactly, Lou?” Parker finally pulls away from the mirror and turns his attention to you, propping a hand up on his hip, “They both came out and said it was a one-off. Y’all weren’t even exclusive. It was a meaningless hookup. You, of all people, should know a thing or two about how those work.”

You jerk your head back in surprise, blinking at him as his gaze pierces you, then stammer, “I- I can’t date another fucking cokehead-“

“He has been on the wagon since then. People slip up sometimes. Again, something you , of all people, should know,” Parker advises defensively.

It feels like a punch in the gut.

He must recognize this, because his posture softens and he sighs, “I just… I know how much you liked him. And you keep going out with people and making all kinds of excuses for why you don’t want to see them anymore, but I think…” his tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, as if he’s contemplating whether or not he really wants to tell you what he thinks. But he searches your face as he lets it rip, “I think it’s just because you still like him.”

Your mouth gapes open as his observation hits you like a freight train. You can feel tears start to burn behind your eyes, but you shove them down. His face melts into a sympathetic pout. He continues.

“I’ve known you since college, Lou. You’re my best friend in the whole world, and I’m gonna be real with you. The only other time you clicked that well with somebody was when you met Ethan.”

This dissolves the dam of resolve you had been building up to keep yourself from crying. Right there in that crowded, joyous room, dressed in a silly Halloween costume, tears start to fall.

“I know that what happened hurt, but I just think it’s something you should think about before writing him off forever,” Parker tells you softly. He places a hand on your shoulder and your face crumples.

Mortification intertwines with the betrayal of your best friend’s honesty and a deep shame starts to percolate in the cords of your neck. They vibrate and tighten your chest until you’re gasping for breath between sobs.

Why right now? Of all the times to talk to me about this, why right fucking now?? When we’re in a crowded room and he knows it’ll make me cry?

Even if he’s right.

The thought grips your stomach and makes you feel squeamish.

“Come here, baby,” he coos and envelops you in a hug, stroking your hair.

“Miss Lantern, are you making your friend cry right now?” someone nearby asks him, but you both ignore it.

“I love you and I don’t want anything to stand between you and happiness. Even if that thing is you,” he tells you.

“I know,” you respond in a shaky voice, returning his hug. The surprise tide of emotion starts to waver as you get a grip on your grief.

Parker grabs your shoulders and holds you out to inspect your face, muttering to himself, “We’re gonna have to fix this shit.”

“Is it bad?” you sniffle and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. He winces in response, so you turn and look in the mirror and groan. Your dramatic makeup is streaked down the sides of your face from your eyes to your jawline. You pout and whine, “God damnit , Parker.”

“Hold on,” he tells you, then peers around the room and scurries off to talk to someone while you take a few pulls off the champagne bottle.

When Parker returns, he has a petite blonde lady in tow, and points to you, “Can you fix it?”

Her mossy green eyes look over your face appraisingly, then she nods and tells him, “Oh absolutely,” she turns back to you and smiles, “Come with me, doll.”

The term of endearment wrenches at your heart, but you follow her out to the hall where she has you sit on a bench. She reapplies your makeup with an expert hand, humming along to the Halloween music still blaring over the speaker from inside the dressing room. The two of you make small talk. You find out her name is Angela and she’s the lighting technician for the show, but is also a part-time makeup artist. She always brings her makeup to shows in case of emergencies.

Not that you’d call your bleeding mascara an emergency or anything, but you’re grateful nonetheless.

Just as she’s showing you the finished product, which is fucking phenomenal, Jackie Lantern comes out of the dressing room.

Her big white afro wig frames her face, showcasing the white glitter cut crease eyeshadow, glossy red lips, and goatee. She turns in a circle, flaunting the rhinestoned white bra and mini skirt. A matching cape flows behind her, shimmering in the light. White garter belts extend down her legs from beneath the skirt, holding up white thigh-high tights. She’s wearing long, white, fingerless gloves that almost reach her armpits. The bright, dazzling white of her outfit contrasts her dark skin beautifully.

She is full Mercutio.

You clap and hoot, bouncing to your feet to prance over and give her a hug. She hugs back and asks, “Are you gonna be ok?”

You assure Jackie with a tight squeeze, “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

She pulls back and smiles warmly at you, “I’m sorry for coming at you like that, I just wanted to talk to you about it since- ”

Her mouth snaps shut and her eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. But only for a second before she picks up the fumble, “Since it’s been on my mind.”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion again. An awful feeling churns in your guts, and you ask, “Are you talking to him or something?”

“What? No,” she scoffs, then averts her gaze to Angela and tells you, “Hey I have to talk to Ang about something, babe. I’ll see you out there?”

“Jackie-” you warn, searching her face. She brushes you off and walks around you completely, then links arms with Angela and starts off down the hall.

You throw your hands out to your sides in exasperation behind them. As you make your way out of the backstage area to get a drink, you replay the conversation over and over in your head, finding a million ways to interpret the things Parker said. But no matter which way you twist it, his name, even just existing in your brain as a thought, burrows beneath your skin.

Dieter made sure to wait until just before the show started.

He approaches the crowded, red backlit bar and orders a drink for his nerves. From what Parker has told him, this could potentially end in disaster. But he has to try. You’ve blocked him from all forms of electronic communication, and, short of showing up at your apartment unannounced, where you wouldn’t let him in anyway, he doesn’t have many other options but to trap you.

Dieter reached out to Parker a week after you blocked him. Parker (rightfully) reamed into him for breaking your trust.

He confided in Parker, admitting that sex with Katie only confirmed his feelings for you. That he knows there’s something more with you. He asked what he could do to make it up to you. To get you back. Parker, a bit of a closet romantic, agreed to help Dieter on his mission. He told Dieter to stay clean and give you space. That he’d be in touch.

So Dieter did exactly that. Dieter hasn’t used coke since the day of the wrap party.

The fucking wrap party.

If ever he has been filled with disdain for the attention fame brings, it was the fucking wrap party. If ever he has wished that he could wipe his memory fucking clean, it was that goddamn party.

He had been awake for 36 hours straight when they wrapped. For 54 hours when he arrived at the party. It’s like he was outside of himself, a passenger as he watched himself walk into the black tie event wearing no shoes and dirty clothes, wielding aggression towards anyone who looked at him.

Then he saw Katie… and completely lost it.

Every ounce of hurt he felt came spewing from his mouth like acid he hoped would fucking melt her skin to the bone.

He screamed at her for seducing him, telling her that she ruined his fucking life, even though neither of those things are true. Like he has time and time before, he ruined his own fucking life. His part-time hobby of destroying anything that brings him joy.

And in true ruiner fashion, when people came to Katie’s defense, Dieter lashed out at them, hurling insults and tables and really whatever the fuck he could get his hands on. The cast and crew were all present to witness, or fall victim to, his tirade. He was escorted back to his hotel room, where he slept it off for the next few days. A pilgrimage to the land of the living dead.

Once back in LA, Mark and Darlene called a meeting, and made it clear: he’s on thin fucking ice.

It just so happens that the movie they wrapped on tells the story of a drug addict who spirals out of control. Dieter’s meltdown so perfectly paralleled the character’s that they were able to spin it as a publicity stunt. The film is somehow projected to do better because of the incident.

Dieter apologized to everyone involved. When he called Katie and told her that he was deeply sorry for the things he said to her, then admitted that he was on a two-day bender with no sleep, she responded casually that it “got her name in the headlines and press for the movie, so, whatever.”

Which, honestly, didn’t surprise him.

Considering what a fucking fool he made of himself, the sanctions on his acting career have been minimal. The same can’t be said for his mental state, though. He hated himself thoroughly after his actions replayed in his sober mind. Never thought he would be able to face any of the people who received the shrapnel of his emotional explosion.

But, miraculously, all of those people accepted his apology and moved on. Except for the person he finds himself caring about the most: you . And he hasn’t been able to do a goddamn thing about it. The degree to which he pines for your affection, for your favor, is driving him fucking mad.

He can’t figure it out. It makes absolutely no fucking sense. The more that time goes on, the truer it is. He spent a 24-hour stint as your real life lover. Just a taste of your devotion. That’s it.

But it’s like you engrained yourself into his fucking DNA in that 24 hours.

Thoughts of you haunt him every single day. Innocuous shit like his bathtub, soggy paper towels, pancakes, the scent of vanilla, reality TV, the fucking Beatles, and worst of all: literally every single baked good that crosses his path. Every time it’s like you’re whispering in his ear. Memories so vivid, if he closes his eyes and focuses, he can taste them.

From time to time, he wonders if you even think about him anymore. The dark side of him tries to convince him that you’ve moved on. But for some reason he knows, really, that isn’t true. It’s like he can feel your yearning from across the country, deep in his bones.

This knowing intuition comforted him, kept him from giving in to the hunger that threatened to swallow him whole after he quit using coke. But he was patient. When the hunger got deafening, he closed his eyes and tuned into the buzzing in his soul that told him there’s still hope . Then two weeks ago, he got a text.

> PARKER: > I have a plan.

And it’s certainly a plan. Whether or not it’s a stupid fucking plan has yet to be determined. But Parker confirmed that you’re here in this bar.

“Bugs Bunny?” a stocky Tina Turner asks him, then sips their drink through a straw as their eyes scan his baggy, gray rabbit costume.

He tips his glass to the stranger and corrects them, “Easter bunny.”

“Adorable,” they reach up and tug at one of the floppy ears attached to the upright hood of the onesie.

Dieter smiles and nods at the compliment, “Yours is great too. Tina is-“

The sound system starts to boom, then lights flood the stage, and they both lose interest in the, frankly, dull conversation, turning instead to the start of the show. Dieter drains the remainder of his drink down his throat and sets the glass down on the bar. He sets off towards the side of the stage, angling himself to face the crowd.

A drag queen named Boo Who is up first. Boo Who is wearing a rooty highlighter yellow wig with a side part, an angular mirrored mini dress, and mirrored high heels, a la Lady Gaga at the Monster Ball. Appropriately, she lip-syncs “Monster” by Lady Gaga.

As Dieter scans the crowd, he notices it consists of two types of people: either singing and dancing along, or completely entranced by the performance. Everyone is in costume, which doesn’t really help with the whole “trying to ID you” thing. He checks his phone and sees an unread message from Parker.

> PARKER: > She's a formal apology

Dieter frowns at the screen and squints back up to the faces in the crowd, wondering what the fuck that means. But then something near the front of the stage catches his eye: a white neck placard that reads SORRY in big, bold letters. The person wearing it is wearing a tuxedo, complete with a black bow tie and white gloves. Their hair is slicked back and shiny with gel. Of course, he recognizes you, even beneath the black pencil mustache painted above your red lips. You’re singing and dancing, your smile wide and taking up your whole face.

The air is sucked from his lungs. Even from here, he can feel your light warming his soul. He can’t help but start grinning at the spectacle.

When the song changes, you turn around and start towards the bar. His heart starts to thud heavy in his chest, feet propelling him after you before he can think twice.

You’re on your tip-toes, stretching across the counter, yelling your order over the music to the bartender when he sits down next to you.

“Vod-ka cran-ber-ry?” you holler, enunciating each syllable as much as you can. The bartender nods in acknowledgement, then his eyes land on the person next to you.

“Whiskey, neat,” the man requests. The timbre of his voice resonates down your spine and into your limbs.

Your head snaps towards it.

The man next to you has the hood of his bunny onesie in the upright position, hiding most of his face. But you can see a shock of messy, dark curls. He’s wringing his hands together, and you can see that on one are two thick-banded rings. And his aquiline nose is poking out from behind the shadow. Soft, musky notes of violet and patchouli.

“I’ll pay for hers, too,” he tells the bartender when he returns, setting a drink down in front of each of you. The man slides a $100 bill across the bar, “Keep the change.”

Blood rushes to your head in a flare of rage when it all falls together.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you bark. He blinks back when he finally turns to meet your eyes. The eye contact feels like he’s reaching through your ribcage and squeezing your heart. Your knees feel wobbly and your stomach drops, but you hold your steel gaze steady.

“I thought this would be better than showing up at your apartment unannounced,” he reasons, pressing his eyebrows together as he searches your face. His eyes flick down to the sign around your neck and the corners of his mouth upturn, “I like your costume. Very handsome.”

Words fail you. All you can do is scoff and turn back towards the stage and walk away from him. But he catches your arm and says, “Please, Lua.”

You spin around and square your shoulders as you spit, “What?!”

Your ferocity doesn’t scare him away. In fact, he comes closer, crowding you until all you can smell is his cologne and you can feel the heat radiating off of his body as he leans in and tells you, “It was a mistake. I’m so sorry.”

He meets your gaze again after he says this. His eyes are soft and sincere and warm and you want to curl up inside them. Then you remember he made a fucking fool of you. He coaxed you out of your emotional hiding spot, then gutted you.

You tried to shove those feelings back in and stitch yourself up months ago. Denied your wound’s existence, even to yourself. Ignored the rotting flesh you couldn’t bear to deal with. Now proof is humming loud in your body. The seams are pulling tight against your swollen belly. You’re so fucking close to splitting open, to spilling your guts, so he can see what he fucking did to you.

“And what did he do, exactly, Lou?”

Parker’s words from earlier nibble away at your brain. And, logically, you understand all of the points he made. You can acknowledge their legitimacy and see the apologetic look on Dieter’s face and know that he’s being honest.

But all the hurt you buried for months has been resurrected. You’re right back where you started: jilted.

“Ok,” is all you respond before shaking his arm off and turning around. In that second between the word leaving your mouth and spinning away, you see his shoulders slump and sadness etch across his face.

You zig zag through the crowd until you’re close to the stage, then don’t look back. But you can feel his gaze glued to you. Like when the mirrors in Ethan’s room come into view, a shiver runs the length of your spine and lingers.

It tingles at the back of your neck until about half way through Jackie Lantern’s set. That’s when Dieter appears in your periphery, just a few feet away. You keep your eyes forward on the stage as you cheer and dance in support. When her last song, “Young Hearts Run Free” by Candi Staton, starts playing, everyone fucking loses it. Dieter extends a few bills up to Jackie, who takes them and stuffs them into her white, rhinestone bra. Her eyes flick from him to you and you resist the urge to flip her off before she gets back into the zone.

She fucking kills it, as always. The crowd loves her, and they continue to cheer after she walks off stage and the intermission music starts. Your eyes dart to where Dieter was standing and find he’s no longer there. Which is your cue to get the fuck out of here.

With your head down, you push your way through the crowd, stopping at the coat check to get your jacket before you hurry out the exit.

Brisk autumn air licks your skin as you step out the door into the night. A thick layer of clouds lay low to the ground, reflecting the artificial golden light from street lamps, making the sky glow. Frost speckles the concrete sidewalk and sparkles as you walk.

You’re plugging your headphones into your phone when you hear Dieter coming up behind you, commanding your attention when he barks your name, “Lou ella! ”

You jump and turn around in surprise.

“Are you fucking serious?” he scoffs, throwing his hands out to his sides as his face twists up with outrage.

The fire in his question ignites your anger. It flashes bright and hot beneath your skin and you respond with vitriol, stepping towards him, but allowing for about two feet of distance, “ What? What, Dieter , what the fuck do you want?”

“I want you to stop fucking running from me,” he answers through gritted teeth. His face is shadowed beneath the hood of his fucking bunny costume, but you can see the cords of his neck standing out and know that he is furious . He continues, taking a step towards you, “Stop fucking holding back. I know you are-“

“You don’t know jackshit about what I’m fucking doing,” you meet his glowering eyes in a challenge.

“No?” he raises his eyebrows and blinks. Looks up at the glowing golden sky and shakes his head. Takes a deep breath. His gaze falls on you again, “So you’re not trying to avoid talking to me?”

“No,” you lie. Neither of you move. The word hangs in the air. It settles like shards of glass in your stomach.

His tongue darts out and licks his bottom lip, then he scoffs, “Fucking coward .”

It comes out of his mouth in a white hot puff when it meets the cool air.

“ Fuck you,” you growl in return.

The corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk and he steps closer. You swallow hard at the dwindling distance between your body and his. That constant, humming electricity that ripples between you is so thick your skin is buzzing.

“That’s it, doll, let me have it,” he purrs, “I wanna hear it. Come on.”

Your nostrils flare and your heart starts pounding, rage bubbling in your chest, “You- You come here to my best friend’s show,” you step closer and jab your finger against his chest, “and you fucking ruin my night-“

“It’s more than that, Lua, come on, you know it is,” he coaxes, “Give it to me.”

“You- you- you- ”

“And what did he do, exactly, Lou?”

“You-” your voice cracks, but you push the words out, “ Hurt me.”

He nods and searches your flushed face. Like this is what he was looking for. You continue.

“You fucked this- this fucking gorgeous woman. You were probably just fucking me on the side while you actually fucking date her. Because she’s not fucking broken like I am-“ a sob catches your throat, “She’s- she’s-“

“She’s not you , Lua. She doesn’t fucking matter to me. She is not the person that’s stuck in my fucking head. She’s not what I think about every goddamn day. That’s you ,” he holds your gaze steady as he tells you this. You start to shake your head and open your mouth, like you could convince him that he’s wrong to think that, but he starts again, “And what about you and your no-fucking-strings-attached? How’s that going for you now?”

You flinch at the mention of your promiscuity. He cups the sides of your face, and studies you carefully as he asks, “It’s not the fucking same, is it?”

Your throat tightens. All you can think of are his hands warming your cheeks. His intense gaze. The huffs of his interrogation against your skin.

“Is it, Lua?” he repeats, softer now, almost a mumble. His eyes are scanning your face, landing on your lips.

You swallow hard and shake your head.

“Why is that?”

Your mouth falls open to answer, but he pulls your lips to his before you can utter the truth that he already knows.

Because it’s not him.

You meet him with a ravenous energy, That spark, that fucking magic, it’s there . It’s in his touch that drops to your waist and pulls you in close. It’s flipping your stomach upside down and rattling those stagnant butterflies loose.

His tongue slides against yours, breaching your mouth, hungry and searching. Your hands rest against his chest for a moment, soaking in the heat of him through your palms. They slide up the surprisingly soft fabric of his costume to the hair at the nape of his neck. You pull his body to yours, and a rumble sounds from the back of his throat.

He pulls back only enough to plead, “Stay with me tonight,” before his lips are back on yours again. Like he needs them to breathe. Like he couldn’t bear to break the contact just to ask this of you. You nod in response, refusing to pause your onslaught of messy kisses.

“Come on,” he mumbles against your mouth, guiding you towards the busy street. You take his hand and follow him a whole three steps to a black town car that’s parked and running. He opens the door to the warm backseat and gestures for you to get in.

This is when you notice two things:

Your red lipstick and painted-on mustache has transferred to his face and he looks fucking ridiculous.

He had a goddamn car waiting here the whole time.

A jolt of obstinacy makes you scoff, “Really?”

He grins sheepishly, but doesn’t respond. As you slide into the leather backseat, you decide not to tell him about the black smudges all over his face. He gets in after you and tells the driver to go to the hotel, then turns to you, “I know you better than you think I do.”

“Is that right?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

He slides closer, leaning in so his breath is hot against your ear, “You think I don’t know you need a little stretching before you open up?”

Heat rises to your face and pools in your belly. Your eyelids flutter as you glance up to meet his eyes. The look in his eyes is full of mischief and lust, but there’s something else there that’s softer, which keeps your gaze locked in place as its meaning steeps in your soul.

“I missed you,” you admit, naming the significance.

He presses his lips to yours and the kiss lingers for a tender moment before he renews it with more urgency. A tingle of want rolls across your body.

You rake your fingers through his hair, pulling his hood down. He pulls back from the kiss and brushes his thumb against your cheek, meeting your eyes again, “I missed you, too.”

“Yeah?” you smile, eyes flicking to his lips.

He shrugs and gives you a boyish grin, “Maybe. I guess. A little bit.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes, smile not fading, “I like your bunny suit, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he looks down at it, then points to you, “I like yours, too. The tuxedo is um,” he licks his lips like he’s searching for the right words, “Really doing it for me. It looks so fucking hot on you,” his eyebrow quirks as his gaze trails down your coat, and he leans in until his nose is nuzzling against your cheek, “I can’t wait to strip it off of you piece by piece.”

Just as your lips part with a gasp, the driver pulls up to the entrance of a hotel and puts the car in park, then calls back “Here, sir.”

The two of you scramble out of the backseat. He grabs your hand and leads you into the hotel. Judgmental looks from the fine patrons of Whatever Fucking Five Star Hotel This Is whiz by as you trail behind him. When you reach the elevator, he punches the UP button impatiently.

The desire that hung thick in the air on the car ride begins to dissipate in the hotel lobby. You catch a glimpse of yourself and Dieter in a mirror. Your lust-fogged mind starts to clear and a strange sense of self-awareness dawns on you. Dieter has his bunny hood upright. Your hair is shiny and hard with hair gel. Smears of red lipstick and black paint coat both your mouths. Damning evidence that you were just making out.

The two of you are incredibly out-of-context in this ritzy place. Plucked off the floor of the Barracuda Bar and dropped in this lobby that seems to be all gleaming white marble and chandeliers.

In the elevator door’s dull reflection, you can see a few people gather behind you. Everyone is silent, all concentrating on the elevator floor countdown.

Dieter raises your clasped hand to his lips and kisses the back of it.

The gesture is so simple, yet so sweet it makes you feel giddy. You look up at him and find he already has eyes on you. He’s studying you with a warm kind of amusement. It brings a wide smile to your face, which spreads to him.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A few people come out before he pulls you inside, pressing the 20 button, and you both nestle into the back corner of the elevator as the remaining guests file in.

“You, um…” your eyes flick to him and you barely stifle a laugh, “You’ve got a little something on your face.”

Completely stone-faced, he glances down at you, then gestures to the general area of his face, “Here?”

You nod and clamp your lips closed. The crowded elevator is hushed except for the whiz of the pulley system and the muted beeps indicating ascent. He hums and frowns, pulling the phone out of his bunny suit pocket and opening the front-facing camera. The display reveals both of your faces as a mess of black and red smears. Your black eye makeup has bled down onto your cheeks, giving you raccoon eyes.

“I think we look fine, don’t you?” he deadpans.

Laughter bubbles up from your belly, bursting through your nose as a snort. The noise ricochets off the walls and earns a few dirty looks. Dieter breaks, his low-pitched laughter rumbling in his throat and shaking his shoulders.

“You’re right,” you squeak, voice cracking into another wave of laughter that you can’t stop when you look back at his phone, “We look really fucking cute.”

The doors slide open at floor 5 and release a couple that looks annoyed by the outburst.

“Wait wait, serious face, I’m gonna take a picture,” he instructs, and you are both able to mold your faces into solemnity for one whole second before the laughter erupts from your throats again. You bury your face against his shoulder and give into the giggles, despite the impatient sighs of your fellow elevator passengers.

The doors slide closed and the ascent begins again.

“Lua, wait, is it,” he nudges you for your attention. You lean back and watch him lick his thumb, then rub the very corner of his mouth, “Right here? Did I get it?”

An involuntary snorting noise sounds from your sinuses, then you squeak, “That- that's it, babe, that’s perfect.”

“Oh thank god,” he sighs with exaggeration, then another stifled laugh rips through his words, “I’d- I’d hate to look like a mess- in- public- ”

The last 3 words come out in breathless wheezes. This has you both doubled over in laughter, tears streaming down your cheeks, unable to breathe, for so long you don’t even notice the other people get out on their floors.

On floor 20, the doors slide open and he pulls you down the hall to his room, the two of you still shaking with giggles. As the door clicks closed, you’re unzipping your coat.

Dieter turns to you with a smoldering smirk. You shrug the jacket off your shoulders and fold it over your forearm. Before you can find a proper resting place for it, he tosses it on the floor and interlaces his fingers with yours.

You let him reel you in and wrap his arms around your shoulders. Your body responds, relaxing against him as you return the embrace. The placard around your neck struggles to conform into this new shape, crinkling in protest.

He nuzzles into your hair and releases a deep sigh, “This fucking sign, Lua, it’s gotta go.”

You snort in response, but don’t go to take it off, or move, or anything. Your joints and ligaments decay into gelatin. His lips press against your forehead and he mumbles, “Do you wanna take a shower?”

Leaning against him like this, you can feel his cock twitch at the thought.

“Lead the way, bunny foo-foo,” you tease, then straighten your spine and return your weight to your feet.

“Easter Bunny,” Dieter corrects you as he pushes off the wall and starts towards the bathroom.

“Whatever you say, Peter Cottontail,” you snicker. From behind, you watch him chuckle and shake his head, so you sing, “Hoppin’ down the bunny trail. Hippity hoppity, Easter’s on its waaaay.”

Dieter shoots you an amused smile over his shoulder as he turns into the bathroom, flipping on the light.

This bathroom, like the one at The Plaza, is as big as your bedroom back home. A large, rectangular, backlit mirror hangs above the white marble double vanity. The floors and walls are also outfitted in white marble. There’s a deep rectangular bathtub on a platform, separate from the shower. The shower itself takes up a third of the room, sectioned off with a frosted glass divider.

Dieter walks over to the shower and cranks the knob to hot, then spins around and stares at you. You pull the SORRY placard off over your head and set it down on the counter, grinning, “What?”

He shakes his head and approaches you, crowding you against the vanity’s countertop. His hands settle at your waist and he meets your eyes as he mutters, “I’m glad you’re here.”

You tuck your hair behind your ear and bat your eyelashes up at him, “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

“I am sorry,” he reasserts. You link your hands behind his neck and watch him as he glances up into the mirror, then back to you, “For… everything.”

For a moment, the only noise comes from the shower head spraying water onto the tile floor. It looks like he’s deep in thought. You study his face as he presses his forehead to yours and becomes out of focus.

“I don’t even know how to explain myself,” he admits, “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have-“

“Hey,” you interrupt his spiraling, pulling back to meet his eyes, “I forgive you.”

His shoulders sag and his features relax. You bring a hand to his cheek and brush your thumb against the stubble there. He flutters his eyes closed and leans into the touch.

The tenderness that you both seem to hold hostage within yourselves so well comes into the light and lets itself be seen. Connection swells and throbs within your chest. When you close your eyes and zero in on the sensation, you swear you can feel it radiating between your souls.

An open door. An invitation.

Your lips meet his, soft but urgent. His fingers find the buttons of your tuxedo jacket and undo them, then the buttons of your dress shirt. You untie the black bow. It drops to the floor, followed by your jacket. His lips depart yours and press wet against your neck, then follow the unfastening of your shirt down your torso.

You’re livewired and wanting, letting your eyelids close and your head fall back heavy. Your palms press against the countertop as you arch into the tantalizing sensation. Hushed whimpers escape your throat when he rolls his tongue against the delicate skin of your belly.

Like he’s kissing away the hurt he caused. Licking your wounds.

Dieter unfastens the last button and spreads open the starched white dress shirt. He grips your hips, splaying his fingers around to your back, up to the hooks of your bra. His mouth follows the firm pressure of his hands, leveraging your abdomen against his mouth as he continues to lick and kiss and suck his way up your body.

Pleasure bubbles hot at your center, sending your pulse racing. Each flick of his tongue drips thick down your spine.

A click sounds from your bra being unhooked and brings your attention back to Dieter. You drop your heavy-lidded gaze onto him, meeting his molten dark eyes. The elastic band of your bra slackens as he tugs at the front. You shrug off the shirt, then the bra.

“Fuck, Lua,” Dieter hums, palming each breast, pressing a kiss into your sternum. You bring your fingertips to his hairline and comb your nails through the wild, loose curls. He looks up at you, desire etched into his features, just as obvious as your smeared makeup settling into his skin.

You bite your lip and pull his face against your chest, smothering him between your tits. He groans and digs his fingers into the soft flesh, pressing them hard against each cheek. His thumbs find your nipples and strum them in tandem. The sensation sends waves of ecstasy down to your cunt and makes you moan. Ferocious in his movements, he comes up for air and drags his tongue up the crease of your cleavage. It slides up the slope of your breast and rolls back and forth over your nipple.

The fluid movement makes you gasp and nod. His eyes flick to yours as his teeth catch the sensitive bud. When your jaw falls open and you release a throaty moan, the vocal manifestation of the flames of desire licking your insides, he rumbles, “Fuck, I missed that sound.”

Your pelvis is thrusting forward with a mind of its own, desperately seeking friction. But he doesn’t give it to you. Instead, he pinches and tugs on your nipples, playing with different levels of pressure until he finds one that has you melting like putty in his hands, all the while mumbling, “I think about you all the time, Lua, you know that? You know that not one fucking day goes by where I don’t think about you?”

Too turned on to continue with this torture, you grab handfuls of his bunny suit and pull him to his feet. You kiss him in frenzied bursts, unzipping his costume as he unbuckles your pants and they drop to your ankles.

You slide your hands down his chest, down to the elastic of his boxers, “Dee,” you whine against his mouth, “Please.”

“Tell me what you want, love,” he purrs, plush lips catching yours. His hands slide down your sides and a finger hooks on the black lace of your underwear. An ache of anticipation throbs at your core, body screaming for him to touch you.

“I want you to to bend me over this sink and fuck me,” you breathe, looking up through your lashes to meet his lust-blackened eyes.

Without further question, he turns you around and pulls both your underwear and his to the ground. You meet his eyes in the mirror as his chest presses against your back. His body heat on your skin salves your chapped soul. The way his eyelids flutter tell you the feeling is mutual.

One of his hands settles your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, while the other guides his member to smack lightly against your ass cheeks.

You grin at each other through the mirror, and he hums against your ear, “Is this what you need, baby? Need my fat cock to stretch that sweet little pussy?”

The filthy words slide into your ear canal, down your spine, leaving a trail of charred remains as it fills you with fire. You swallow hard and nod. His cock nudges against your entrance.

“Say it.”

The demand itself makes you whimper. Your lips form a pout and you try to drive yourself back, hoping to spur him into action. But his hand on your hip doesn’t allow for movement. He doesn’t flinch, just keeps his eyes steady on yours and waits.

“I- I need your fat cock to stretch out my sweet little pussy.”

“Good girl,” he coos, then presses a kiss against your pulse. His hips thrust forward, and his cock sinks into you at an excruciatingly slow pace, “Holy fuck-”

You sputter and watch his hot gaze on your contorting face. Both of his hands grip your waist now as he finds a rhythm that makes you writhe and gasp from pleasure. Each thrust sends shockwaves across your body, from the walls of your pussy through the tips of your toes.

“Is that what you need, sweetheart?” he rumbles against your ear.

“Faster,” you plead, pushing back against him at a quicker pace, following the urge tingling at your center. His tempo conforms to yours and you gasp, “Yes, yes, just like that, Dee-“

He groans and his fingertips dig into your skin, “Love it when you say my name, Lua,” his voice trembles with each sharp thrust that melts you from the inside out, “Does it feel good on your lips? Does it feel right? Do you feel that?”

His questions flip your stomach upside down. Because, yes, his name is like powdered sugar on your lips. Because, yes, being with him is like hearing your favorite song. Like warming your chilled hands on a fire. Like climbing into bed at the end of an exhausting day.

“Oh my god, Dee,” you pant, nodding in agreement, “Yes- yes, I feel it.”

The mirror is starting to fog from the shower’s steam. You can barely see the reflection of yourselves anymore. Just blurs of skin moving in time. But your nerve endings are on fire, every square inch of your body doused in ecstasy as he fills you again and again. His lips hum against the crook of your neck, groaning curses with increasing frequency.

Pleasure builds and builds at your center. You chase the sensation, meeting his thrusts in a frenzy, pushing hard against him as you moan, “Fuck, fuck, fuck- Dee, don’t stop, baby.”

“That’s it, Lua, tell me what you need. Such a good girl, Lua. So fucking good,” he purrs into your ear.

A twisting, dizzying static swells inside you, pulling sharp gasps of air in through your mouth. You let out a choked sob as your body fills to the brim with ecstasy, then releases it all at once. Your joints dissolve, arms and legs start to tremble, and your pussy seizes around him.

His hips stutter, whole body going rigid for a moment before he moans and shudders, spilling inside you. He loosens his grip on your waist and wraps his arms around your belly, nuzzling into your neck. You can feel him smiling against you.

Your chests heave in unison, relaxing more with each slowing breath. The two of you soak up all those beautiful post-orgasm happy chemicals, melting against each other more and more with each passing second. Eventually, he mumbles, “Shower?”

[ Next Chapter ]

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