#in case you're wondering why these four in particular

[akuma-tenshi]

one more post before bed

[xerotiny]

The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day // Our precious #6

The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day. (Our precious #6)

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Pairing: main - Park Seonghwa x Reader. Side - Reader x Jeong Yunho, Reader x Kang Yeosang

Warning (for all parts): smut, hardcore smut, soft dom!seonghwa, dom!yunho, dom master!yeosang, sub!reader/slave!reader, breast stimulation, teasing, biting and marking, DD/LG, seonghwa has a feeding kink (does not overlap with fat fetish), praise kink, food play, unprotected sex, fingering, cock warming, thigh riding, nipple play, bits of master-slave dynamic, rough sex, manhandling, cum play/cum shot, dirty talk/degradation (just know yunho has a filthy mouth), size training (vaginal), etc.

Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable or triggered by any aforementioned tags. Feeding kink/feedism can be triggering for some people, if that's the case, please do not engage or skip over the beginning parts. I apologise, I had no ill intentions with this. To avoid boredom, this time i decided to divide this chapter into four parts, each part with each pair. Not proofread.

Gist: it's the weekend and you finally get the time to spend it with your so called "boyfriends".

Total Word Count: n/a

Part One [6.1]: Feed Me Please, Daddy - Park Seonghwa x Reader.

Word Count: 13,354

Song Rec: In The Trees by Stalgia

Taglist: @t3kandson @therealcuppicake @sebastianswhore13

 Reliving some moments can be detrimental, some can be joyous, while some can be a mix of both. You weren't sure where exactly you were leaning to in this particular moment. Or maybe, your approach was more of a two-fold interpretation than concluding all at once. Staring into the deep brown eyes of the person you were least likely to be interested in, was a moment of deja vu you resented living in, despising every passing second of it. In the much steeper part of your stomach, you were starting to sense the underlying distraught creeping up your gut. As one might wonder why you'd be so invested in this particular case, but to your own acknowledgment, you knew you were being stubborn.

There was no way you were backing down from this; you couldn't look away either, not when he's been waiting on the chance to watch you lose. In sullen silence which pertains the more you hold onto your stupidity, you have yourself comfortably perched on the kitchen counter while the subtle sounds coming from the balcony fill up any unnecessary noise between you two. Mingi was at it again, not once wavering in his motive to make you feel small with his broad shoulders or his bulging bare arms as he held them across his chest. A deleterious glint sits in his eyes. He stood at a distance from you, studying the curves of your body and how it was capable of fitting in the space on the kitchen counter next to the stove. You, on the other hand, are trying to condole with your hammering heart; it was no surprise, even to yourself, to know you were attracted to Mingi. If you got the chance, you'd pounce upon him and act out all the fantasies you deliberately hide from everyone. If only Mingi was allied to you the way others were. Sadly, that's not how it worked, did it?

A few hours after the break of dawn, and you're forced to have a ruthless encounter with him. Mingi had just woken up, judging from his bed hair and the way it was tousled, besides he was still dressed in his night clothes. The white tank top which hugged his body like a second skin had an assortment of stains on them. Some prominent, some faded; they were probably stains from food. Though, you were deeply infatuated with Mingi's personality, you equally reviled it too. If not, your somber morning would've never been blighted by his rueful gaze or his inanely gracious satire. You'd be a fool to think you'd have a normal morning for once; waking up to Seonghwa's voice was the ultimate rapture of your significant morning, and then he had asked to you meet him in the kitchen so he could prepare breakfast for you before everyone's awake. And to your satisfaction, everyone slept-in on a Saturday. Obviously.

Really, you'd be a fool to pass on that opportunity. Groggy with sleep, you somehow managed to drag yourself out of the nimble futon you slept on, brushed your teeth and carried yourself to the kitchen. The nifty oversized shirt on your body, the one which you had borrowed from Jongho last night, clung too close to you to expose your curves and godly figure; seamlessly you had booty shorts under your shirt, which had no point in wearing because the shirt covered most of your skin till your mid thighs. When you were ushered into the kitchen by the heavenly scent of coffee and your own enthusiasm, Seonghwa had been sipping on his morning coffee, his favourite mug in his hand and a doleful haze of sunshine in his eyes; everything was wonderful when alongside Seonghwa, you had your morning coffee too and engaged yourself in a fatuous conversation with him. Until Mingi walked in, half-asleep and Seonghwa excused himself to the balcony to get himself some freshly harvested coriander for the breakfast he had planned ahead. You had just gotten comfortable on the counter, as on Seonghwa's suggestion who thought it'd be a great idea for you to watch him cook.

So, now you're here. Waiting on Mingi's derisive comment to wrung you out like one would do to their wet towel. All this could've been avoided if Mingi hadn't woken up to get himself a bottle of water, or if you had just let it go after your eyes met with him.

"I don't remember the last time I had walked into the kitchen, and you weren't there," Mingi spits, spitefully enough to let his tone prick you like a thorn. "But you know, what? It'd be more surprising if you were actually useful in here."

"Man, you're really obsessed with me, aren't you?" you scoff, swinging your legs off the counter and landing on your feet. "I must be taking up every fraction of your mind, for you to come up with useless remakes and snarks."

"Aww, don't flatter yourself." Mingi smirks, "it's sad you think of me as one of your playthings to be infatuated with you and whatever that is you offer. Quit dreaming, princess. I will never bend to your words or whatever tricks you have up your sleeve."

"You seem very confident about—"

"You two are at it again?" Seonghwa groans, walking in the kitchen with his hands occupied, "how many times have I told you to not bother yourself with him, Angel? Some people aren't worth our attention." He sets the pair of scissors and a bunch of coriander, which he had freshly cut from his thriving garden in the balcony, on the counter and glances at Mingi, "and you, can't you let your differences go? You don't like her, we get it. But that does not validate your curt attitude towards her."

Heaving a sigh, he turns around and faces you, a smile already lilting on his lips, "look, I just want to have my breakfast in peace. You want to argue, bite each other's necks off, or borderline kill each other, do it in your own leisure time. My only request is, please let me eat in concord of my mind."

Mingi couldn't help but scoff, "you know, this would've never happened if you all hadn't allowed her to live with us."

You take offence in what he has to say, but don't voice it out as you usually would; Mingi and you had a bone to pick, you two could never get along no matter what. Though, listening to Mingi sometimes would leave your heart broken. In much simpler way of eluding, Mingi's resentment towards you was a blow to this ornate mirror you would view yourself in, and his words were the scattered pieces of glass ready to plunge deep in your heart. Whiling in the same momentary haze, you're dwelling unreasonably over his injudicious words again. It wouldn't come off as a surprise to anyone but being pampered and taken care of by the seven men in the house, Mingi's hostility always marred your pleasant disposition.

"Mingi," Seonghwa mutters, his tone threatening, "you're crossing the line here."

"Am I? Am I really crossing the line here, Seonghwa?" Mingi mumbles, posing it as a question onto Seonghwa. "I never had a say in this arrangement, yet I respected your decisions and went along with it. Maybe, I shouldn't detest her for what you've done. I should resent you all."

As his words falter to a mere whisper, Mingi shakes his head and turns around; but before he could leave either of you stranded, he glances over his shoulder and adds, "I'll go live with Lani for a couple of weeks. You guys can get comfortable, you know, I won't be around to make you guys awkward..."

With that, he leaves. His silhouette dithers to the morning sun flooding in through the balcony doors. Mingi had gone and you were seemingly, more heartbroken than ever. Your stomach lurches into your chest, your heart slowly regressing in its palpitations; Seonghwa clicks his tongue and places one of his hands on your thigh. Comforting warmth engulfs your disturbed mind and you're pulled out of your despondency. When you turn your head, you find Seonghwa's smile growing further into his cheeks and his eyes disappearing in crinkles.

"Don't you worry about him," he says, "he'll get around. I'll have Yunho talk to him. Unless they're both on bad terms with each other."

"What?" you mutter under your breath, tracing your hand along his to intertwine your fingers together. "I don't let his words bother me, seriously. You shouldn't trouble yourself with this. Or, even Yunho."

Seonghwa chuckles, "compared to me, Yunho would've taken a much violent approach if he had heard what and how Mingi spoke to you. I'm just saying, he wouldn't have been as tolerant as me." He clears his throat and lets his smile fall to line, "and whether you are bothered by him or not, it's no way for a man to treat you like that. Mingi is one of us, and we wouldn't be setting much of an impression on you if we let him get away with these things. Like I said, don't let his words get to you, he's a better man under all the facade of arrogance and revulsion."

Giving your hand a gentle squeeze, Seonghwa steps and untangles your hands; he stands in front of the stove and smiles at you. "Let's forget about him, alright. I know you're feeling down, so, what do you want to eat?"

"I thought you were making me fried rice from yesterday's leftovers," you wiggle your legs dangling off the counter and let your lips curl, "I'm not a picky eater. You can cook whatever you want."

"There's no harm in asking my lady, is there?" he muses, offering you wink before grabbing the bunch of coriander he had brought from the balcony.

"Who would've thought you tended a garden in the balcony."

He chortles, "not many know of it, sure. However, it doesn't take a genius to plant some coriander."

"Hey, it still keeps you in touch with your nurturing psyche," you pout, swinging your legs at a steady pace, "after all you're the guy who takes care of six kids in this household."

Seonghwa bites back on a laugh and lets his lips curve instead; he shakes his head, studying your clement eyes with his before he brushes it off. The avid affection in his eyes could've misread yours. He doesn't want to believe what he interpreted, but he knows you were being grateful to him. As the conspicuous moments cling to either of your speechlessness, Seonghwa clears his throat, and steps away from the counter.

"Seven kids, sweetheart. What, did you forget to count yourself?" he whispers lowly, "but you're not wrong, gardening has helped me get over many slumps in my life. And to be fair, any guy, stuck in my situation, would've done what I'm doing. Let's not romanticise what I do."

You are weirdly confounded by his modesty; allured in some delightful sense, you can't seem to get your eyes off of him. Seonghwa had his back faced to you while he rummaged through the refrigerator. Dainty crinkles of polythene bags and containers reverberate till they're softened by your own, an airy voice calling out to him.

"Are you sure?" you muse, "because I've seen you take on countless responsibilities. You somehow manage to balance your work life and still have time for the things you love doing vis-a-vis your gardening hobby. So, yeah. You're pretty much like a superhero."

"Anyone could do that, Angel. Come on." His humility is endearing, but you couldn't understand why he was dodging your compliments. With his head still buried in refrigerator, he continues, "if we're talking about parenthood, then I believe Hongjoong deserves some credit for keeping us all together."

You let out a soft giggle before leaning back on the counter, propping your hands on either side of you and gently oscillating yourself back and forth.

"You two have your roles predestined for this household, don't you? You're doing a great job, seriously. Just take the compliments and don't backhand them," you lick your lower lip, adoring the view in front of you. Seonghwa hums as a response because he knew there was no winning against you, while you suck on your teeth, "this is totally off topic, but damn, I might have one of the bestest views in front of me right now."

There was no lie in your testimony; you were indeed revelling in the perfect view of Seonghwa's rear raised in the air as he leaned over to rummage through the refrigerator. Sweatpants hang loose on his waist, accentuating more of his curves and his ass. It'd be a lot shameful to admit you were ogling at him, then ever denying you felt yourself losing to your demarcated eroticism.

"Oh really, my little girl likes what's in front of her? Adorable," he remarks, pulling himself out of the open doors of the refrigerator, "sad, all you can do is watch and drool. We both know who's incharge here, right?"

You watch him holding a few bags of veggies; though it wasn't feasible for your mind to come up with something this early in the morning, you still manage to go along the inner voices. A spark of tease takes over your mind when the oxytocin in your body passes its threshold.

"You are," you bring your voice down a few baritones and lace it with seduction, "daddy."

As a blur of sinful hope crosses his eyes, Seonghwa's face shrouds with utmost impropriety when he prances across the very little distance between you and the refrigerator. Carelessly, he lets go the bags in his hands and they land on the counter with a placid crinkle, soon submerging into your gasp; Seonghwa forces you to spread your thighs apart while you sat still on the counter. His hands sear their touch on your skin, pushing your legs further apart for him to slot his body perfectly against yours. The tender caresses of his fingers, running in circles on your skin, under your shirt, start trickling your spine with shivers. On your amiable instinct, you're quick to wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders, supporting your body as he pulls you into his body. He kept you upright while you were almost suspended off the edge of the counter.

"Be careful with that word, sweetheart." Seonghwa warns, tracing his lips in almost like a trail of wispy kisses to your ear; he licks up the shell of your ear before biting down on the earlobe. "You throw it around too much, and I might not be able to tame myself."

Your throat runs dry, once having discerned the softer but grimy undertones of carnality in his voice. In the wrinkle of a second, you wind your legs around his waist and push your hips into his lower abdomen. His flimsy shirt rides up with your movement to have you peek on his toned abdomen, and a cute little belly button. Seonghwa's dainty fingers crawl down to the hem of your shirt, pushing it over to expose your bare chest.

"I wouldn't mind you losing yourself to me, daddy." You slur your words, tilting your head to a side when you find him staring at you.

"You're playing with fire, sweetheart," smirking, he whispers and lets his hands drag up your sides, till they're cupping your tits, "aren't you scared you might burn yourself?"

A breath hitches in your throat, mind fogging with absolute darkness when his warmth is groping your tits like that; you let out a soft whimper, your eyes fluttering close and your lips parting in a mere attempt to get your words out. Nothing came out of your mouth, not even an utter; you were too engrossed in his touches and warmth, the one which slipped away from you after teasing and tugging at your taut nipples. You were sensitive to touch, and it had only been brought to your attention during your make out session with Jongho last night.

"Hmm, you're...responsive," Seonghwa mumbles and pulls back, letting your shirt drape your body fully before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "We'll continue this after breakfast, hmm? I am really hungry right now. Hungry for food."

Tangled limbs become free as he pushes himself away from you; you weren't fond of the coldness which slipped in between too immediately after, but you couldn't complain either way. Seonghwa ties his apron around his waist and bends over to grab a chopping board from the cabinets below the stove.

He sets it on the counter before smiling at you, "I could use your help. Why don't you wash the vegetables and I'll chop them?"

"Sure."

It came off as a suggestion than request, the one you couldn't quite resist. You hop off the counter, gently tugging on your shirt before standing next to him; Seonghwa unwraps his selection of veggies from their respective polythene bags and places them on the counter. You share a glance with him, and a smile curls your lips. Soon, you two are drowning out every superficial thought in your head, lost in a void of affection while your eyes never once wavered from each other. He almost leant in, lips puckered and eyes half-lidded, you were prepared for whatever that was going to happen, anticipation breaking at the seams. Warmth of his breath fans your cheeks and then your lips, before it melts into your skin; his lips are delicate with yours, brushing softly till it turns to a passionate kiss. Seonghwa winces softly when he forces himself away from you, breaking the kiss in that moment.

"If we carry on like this, there's no way I'd finish preparing breakfast for nine people."

"Then maybe you should learn how to control yourself," you joke, bumping your hips into his, as playfully as you could, "come on, we've got a lot of time after breakfast to do whatever your heart desires to do now."

"Duly noted, ma'am."

Cooking with Seonghwa was fun, endearing even. You two spent the time laughing and talking around, making harmless jokes about the others who were somehow still not awoken to your chaos. There wasn't a lot to talk about any way, so you settled on asking him questions about Mingi and his relationship. At first Seonghwa hesitated in his head to answer your doubts, but soon enough he was opening up and spilling everything. Mingi and Lani, his girlfriend, have been on and off from the freshman year; the two met in their department and have known each other since then. Lani is a ballet major and according to Seonghwa's first impression of her, she's a pretty woman with an ugly heart and soul. She had been stringing Mingi along to her tricks, taking advantage of his good persona and also his wealth. Yep, if you hadn't known it before, Mingi, similar to Jongho, belonged to a well-heeled family.

"Mingi's too much of a kind heart to see through her lies and chicaneries," Seonghwa scoffs, continuing to sauté the vegetables, he glances at you and shrugs his shoulders lightly, "we've all tried our hardest to get him out of the illusions she's weaved around him; so far, we've only offended him with our stupid trials."

"You told me not to be bothered by him, on the contrary you yourself are troubled—"

"—there's always some sort of hypocrisy hidden in my words, sweetheart," his laugh interrupts you, "time heals, doesn't it?" As he sighs, he fixates himself on the pan of sizzling of vegetables, "I'm just hoping he realises his worth and knows what he deserves."

"He will, I'm a firm believer of that."

You hum and lean back into the counter, stretching out your upper body and legs to destress yourself; the sublime morning dawned over, spilling with golden cast and untimely bloom of chirping birds. It had been approximately fifteen minutes since Seonghwa and you had taken on the venture of cooking egg fried rice for everyone, almost done with finishing with the task at hand. Amid the silence of all, where only the occasional sears of vegetables and oil resounds, your stomach growls and all hell breaks loose.

Seonghwa bites back on a laugh and looks at you, "if you're that eager, there's an assortment of cut fruit in the fridge. Help yourself to it." He redirects your attention by pointing the spatula in his hand towards the refrigerator, "I'll be done in ten more minutes. You can have a light snack till then. And do you want me to brew you some green tea with the rice?"

You're already a few steps ahead, already by the refrigerator, "I'm fine. I'll just have some orange juice instead."

Opening the door of the refrigerator, you shuffle around with the various takeout containers and a box leftover pizza from last night. Along some saran-wrapped plates of Wooyoung's experimented recipes, you find the colourful bowl of cut fruits, which also happened to be covered by a large sheet of saran-wrap. The gelid ceramic bowl fits snug in the palm of your hands when you bring it out to the dining table; sitting down on your designated chair, you put the bowl on the table and flick the wrap from it. Your place at the dining table had been preordained by the others, you were given the seat between Yunho and San, while the others sat in their usual chairs. There was one chair, centrally placed along the width of the table, claimed by Hongjoong. And the others would then sit around him; it started with Hongjoong, and clockwise to him, it went, Seonghwa, Jongho, Yeosang, Mingi, Wooyoung, San, you and Yunho.

As it was only the two of you this morning, you decided to settle down on the first chair you see; which happened to be where Seonghwa sat. Aimlessly, you let your hand dive in the bowl to pinch out a piece of peach, the first bite is juicy, tangy and sweet, forcing you to reminisce on your bittersweet encounter with Mingi. You're in a dour state of your mind again, forced to have mindless notions, if there could ever be a time where you and Mingi would get along just fine. Lost in your heady wonders, you blindly pick out another piece, a piece of melon and put in your mouth; juices trickle, splashing on your chin and rolling further down your neck. Chewing through it, you're still immersed in the intangible truth of your downtrodden relationship with Mingi. You munch and chew, without having the knowledge that you had nearly finished all the fruit in bowl, and how sticky your chin was from all the fruit juices.

Louder your thoughts are, the more unaware you become of footsteps ascending out of the kitchen. You're snapped into reality by a certain weight lingering on your shoulder. When you raise your head up, you're stricken with Seonghwa's beaming smile and his amused eyes.

"Angel to earth," he muses, "what are you thinking of?"

You shake your head, lips quivering, "nothing really."

Seonghwa doesn't believe you, yet he nods his head and places the plates on the table which had been carrying in his other hand. Slipping his hand from your shoulder and sliding it across the back of your chair, he leans over and traces his other hand along your chin; fingers collect the remnant of fruit juices from your chin before his thumb swipes just under your lower lip. You watch him, flustered and confused, mouth agape, seemingly out of the daze, as he brings his fingers to his mouth and lets his tongue dart out. He licks up the length of his forefinger, fluttering his eyes close before humming in satisfaction. When his eyes open to your soft whimper, he continues to lap his tongue around his thumb; sucking on it, he brings it out with a pop and smirks lightly at you.

"Sweet," he whispers, leaning further to reduce whatever distance that was between you two. His lips hover on yours, ghosting their soft brushes till he mumbles, "you're not a good liar, sweetheart."

"I-I really wasn't—I wasn't thinking of anything," you stutter, jerking up your shoulders and taking a deep breath to keep yourself composed.

On the brink of letting your lips touch, you're at loss for words and thoughts; the close proximity muddles with your brain in ways you couldn't quite comprehend. Not when Seonghwa's hand had slithered its way on the nape of your neck from the chair. His delicate grasp pulls you in, your lips touching in some sort of fervent delight, till you're lurching and leaping, tilting your head to augment the desires palpating in both of your hearts. He cups your face instead, using the warmth of both of his palms. One of his thumbs presses against your cheekbone and you wince, fumbling with your own hands to wrap them around his shoulders.

This kiss drags on for long as it could, minutes murmuring to nothing more. Seonghwa's mind is left craving for more when he tastes the sweetness of fruit on your tongue and lips, when his own had been exploring the hot crooks of your mouth. You let him do as he pleased to, eager for his tongue to explore and taunt your own, to let both of them rub and wrestle together. Until, you're past the threshold of your contentment. A concept frozen in time, bounded by nothing till you're both breathless, chasing for the breath of air you needed to appease the burn in your chest. Seonghwa breaks the kiss, rupturing the rhythm of your lips; he rests his forehead against yours, his warm and ragged breath thrashing against your cheeks.

"Something has to be wrong with me today," he frets his words with the air he inhales, "I can't seem to let go of you, neither can I rid my heart of this devout yearning to taste you on my tongue. What have you done to me, my darling?" He chuckles in the raspy and breathless state of his, "do you not want me to stay sane?"

"I'm—I'm doing nothing," you respond, words hitching in your throat and heart pounding on the walls of your chest, "you were the one who kissed me."

"I am aware," he adds, whirling his tone with a deep laugh, "couldn't help myself when I saw you sitting here, lips and face glistening with the juices. You wouldn't know how tempting you were, how fucking beautiful it was for a man like me, to find you—" he chuckles in your face, "—every bit of you is so fucking precious, sweetheart. No doubt I lack self-restraint when I'm with you."

One of his hands on your cheeks, falls to grab your chin in his fingers' subtle grip, he pushes his thumb under your lower lip and forces you to open your mouth.

"This mouth had done some wonders back then," he mutters, "do you remember that night, Angel? When I had fucked this pretty little mouth of yours..."

You nod.

"Such a good little girl," he rasps, drunkenly, "such a good girl to remember the time I had wrecked her throat. Hmm, fucking perfect."

And you're rendered speechless; it's very unlikely for you to be so horny in the morning, let alone, your day had just started, and you were already dripping through your shorts. Swallowing thickly, your throat wobbles with you having no words to voice them out; instead, Seonghwa steps back, begrudging to himself as he straightens up and stares down at you.

"I know what you're thinking of," he muses, "and I've got something for you regarding it. Don't worry, sweetheart, all your desires will be quenched; let's just eat first, okay?"

Again, you're only sane enough to nod your head vigorously. Biting on your lower lip, your mind goes astray, the reminisces of the said night flooding your conscience with zeal and ecstasy; only recalling the vague memoirs that night left you with, had tipped you past your edge, urging your arousal to soak your shorts and causing more to seep out. Seonghwa's muted whistle howls in your ears when he's placing the pot of cooked rice on the table. While you're still disoriented from the remembrances of your game night with him and Yunho, Seonghwa makes himself comfortable on one of the chairs and pats his lap, hoping you'd take on the little hint. You obviously did not need to be told twice. Scampering off your feet, you're quick to fit yourself in his lap. You prop your legs across his, leaning your body onto his chest while resting your head on his shoulder. Mumbling out an incoherent sound, Seonghwa wraps his arms around your waist and presses a soft kiss against your forehead.

"How are we supposed to eat if you're going to..." he says, suggestive enough for you to sit a bit straighter, "you know, you can get needy at times. A lot."

Plucked by a sense of curiosity, you compose your posture and wrap your arms around his neck. Seonghwa's lips curl with the utmost bewilderment, while your brows squeeze together in the centre of your forehead; he shakes his head, fathoming your deliberate gestures. He pinches your chin, thumb pressing into your bone for your lower lip to tug out.

"I'm not complaining, it's adorable." He adds in a wispy voice, "really fucking adorable when daddy's little girl gets to bat her lashes at him and he falls head first into her trap."

You smirk, squirming on his lap before leaning over to whisper in his ear, "isn't daddy all talk and no show?"

"Daddy doesn't want to hurt his baby," he mutters, tracing one of his hands along your back to your neck. Though, losing his grasp on his own tongue, he lets out a chuckle and looks away from you, "bless my soul, I thought I'd be able to keep a straight face through this vulgar oration, but turns out I can't really utter anything without absolutely cringing my spine."

"Why not?" you laugh along him, as his eyes are back on you, twinkling with unsaid words, "I believe, you said it was a part of your "kinks" and preferences."

He shrugs, slightly shifting you on his lap, "it is; however I don't want our fellow readers to crawl out of their skin listening to me exaggerate..."

You peck his lips and shut him up, "I bet the readers like it. So, don't you worry about it."

"The main concern should be, do you like it?" he rasps, his voice husky, "it's important to know if you're comfortable or not."

You brush your lips against his, "it might take me some time to get used to it. Not a lot of guys I had been with, dabbled in this kink, you know."

"Lot of guys?" he instigates, his lips curling into his cheek, revealing his canines, "how many guys have you been with before us?"

"I never asked you how many women you've been with before me," you drawl, jutting your lower lip out, "why do you care, anyway?"

Sliding his hand further up your neck, he entangles his fingers in your hair and pulls you with it; you arch your head back, succumbing to his strength and chuckling softly before he buries his face in the crook of your neck. He traces pleasant kisses on your skin, eventually letting his tongue dart over to lick and suck, eliciting pretty sounds from your mouth.

He murmurs his words, letting them collide with your skin, "fine. I'll tell you everything. Would you like that?"

His hand which had stayed around your waist, tightens and using your body to have some leverage, he bucks his hips into yours. The thin material of his sweatpants wasn't enough to let the impression of his erection go unnoticed by you; seemingly immersed in the sensation his lips offered and the way his hardening cock rubbed against your inner thigh, you let out a mangled gasp, smiling to yourself.

"Sure—ah fuck—sure, tell me everything about your past." In your line of sight, you could only catch the minute glimpse of his tousled hair tickling your throat.

Seonghwa hauls a soft chortle against your collarbone; not knowing when he had drifted off from kissing your throat, to your collarbones, you whimper ever so slightly, lurching over to hug his shoulders tighter in your grasp. Your body somehow manages to stay on his lap, somehow rattling to his the movements of his hips and the sensitive teasing of his lips on your collarbones; if you were to squirm or shift even to the slightest to your side, you would be slipping out of his lap and landing ass-first on the floor.

"What, do you need a number or names?" he jokes, "I'm bad with both. Could never keep a count, or remember their names."

"That's just sad," you enunciate, shuddering to his teeth sinking right above one of your collarbones, "very much like you, I don't recall a lot of things from my past endeavours either."

Seonghwa hums along, "you certainly know how to play a risky game, don't you?" teasing you with his teeth, he proffers a few more nibbles to your flesh before pulling back. His hand drops from your hair and lets you move your head freely; though, he brings the same hand down to cup a side of your face, "don't bite more than you can chew."

"Oh, you're one to talk," you retort, rolling your eyes at him, "aren't you redirecting my attention to something else." He understands your intentions when you subtly glance down, and scoff, "I thought we were going to eat. You just seem to have all different kinds of ideas, anything but eating breakfast, apparently."

"And who's responsible for putting these ideas in my head?" he taunts you, patting your cheek before backing himself away and wrapping both his arms around your waist.

A dark sheet of serenity falls over the two of you, simmering your thoughts till he's making an effort to create a sound. Seonghwa's grip tightens around your figure, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder as he mumbles, "I've slept with many women in my past, maybe a few men here and there; but I could never connect with them on a spiritual level. Could never engage each other in meaningful conversations. Our emotional compatibility was almost close to negligible, so we kept it limited to our bodily passions and intimacies. All of my past experiences, they're more jarring than you could ever imagine them to be."

You listen to him draw in a sharp breath, his chest heaving into yours when he does. For the fractioned beat of a second, he grows quiet and then sighs, breaking his silence, "in the end, I came to terms with it; I had no problems living that lifestyle, even though it was, in practicality, destroying me." He adds, "so, due to my internalised needs and desires, I stopped meddling with the dating culture altogether. Now, I wander around, meeting new faces every night and indulging in most of my darkest desires."

"Does that sate your curiosities, sweetheart?" he wrings out a jagged laugh, shaking his head, "I truly hope so."

You nod, "yeah."

There's an underlying forethought concealed in Seonghwa's eyes; it glimmers softly while you're still figuring your way through the labyrinth of his words. Seonghwa may not be as forthcoming as you might have predicted him to be, though you couldn't really judge after only living with him for a month or so. It took time for him to peel his shell off, engage with you in much profound and deeper conversations about literally anything and those tête à têtes were your habitual secrets to seeking an ardent relationship with him.

"Good," he smiles, "let's eat then. I can feel my stomach growling for some food, while I'm starting to see stars behind my eyelids."

"Oh, you're so dramatic," you playfully scoff, before propping the lid off the pot, "and so hungry today. Are you sure it's food that you're craving and not something else?"

"What else would I crave on a Saturday morning?" he deadpans, licking his lips.

"I don't know, I was thinking about..." you trail off and let out a simple laugh, "me, aren't you craving me to fill your mouth with my sweetness..."

Seonghwa groans, keeping a mellowed out smile on his lips, "daddy's little girl really wants to test his patience, doesn't she? Well, daddy is going to make sure his little girl knows not to tease him."

Your spine crumbles to his husky voice, his arms tracing up your sides; fingers clasping onto the hem of your shirt, he lifts it over your head and discards it down on the floor. A soft crinkle resounds, but you aren't too bothered by it, because you were too fazed by his warm breath prickling your skin, fanning with an intensity. Bare chest, see-through demeanour, you fix your hungry eyes on his and wait for them to shift a shade, wait for them to lose all the light before he becomes feral in a way only you could understand. Wetting your lips, you slide your hands into his hair, picking at the soft tuft of ebony strands, and tangling yourself in the much needed strength. And there it goes without saying, ambient dark shrouds his eyes and a smirk fleets on his lips.

Till the time a breathless gasp leaves your mouth, his face is buried in between your tits. His tongue slithers out, rubbing up stripes, licking your skin; a moan gets trapped in your chest when you find the same warmth graze along your sternum. His lips hover over one of your tits, you're anticipating when he opens his mouth and engulfs you with a want you had been sitting on. However, he doesn't give it much thought before wrapping his soft lips around your flesh and guiding his mouth down. All in his mouth, you bite your lip and throw your head back, eyes screwing shut with the absolute pleasure you were bubbling with.

Your arousal seeps through your shorts when his teeth sink in lightly at first, and then he bites down, hard enough for his teeth to mark your skin. Strapping his hands to your waist and pulling himself away from your chest, he somehow manages to shuffle you on his lap. A second sounds in your head and his mouth is back on your chest; immersed in the holy delight of his lips and mouth sucking your tit, you voice a strangled whimper and fist your hands in his hair. Seonghwa winces at the way you were tugging on his hair, but doesn't make a sound and continues to do what he had taken up on.

Somber serenity in the surrounding is filled with fervent echoes of moans, groans and whimpers, all shuddering from your mouth; your lips remain parted, your eyes now half-lidded to gaze down at Seonghwa, and your cunt leaking with excitement. Whiling himself in his own carnality, he slides one of his hands up from your waist and gropes your other tit. The softness of his hand caresses your skin before the raggedness of his fingers envelops it whole. Pinching your taut nipple in between his thumb and forefinger, he lets it roll before pulling on it.

"Ah, fuck—Seonghwa," you voicelessly mutter out, bucking your hips into his to let your clothed cunt grind against his thigh, "you—you fucking switched up—you just—keep doing that, please."

Your desperation amuses him, but he doesn't let go. Seonghwa's tongue keeps lapping and tickling your taut nipple by rubbing its tip too harshly over it. At this point, you're gasping for air and your lungs could collapse any moment due to the suffocation your mind brought upon them. Moving your hips vigorously to a steady pace, you try to get as much friction against his thigh as you could. Internally, you writhe with a bolt of desperation striking down every rational thought in your body. While his other hand stays around your waist, he supports your back and lets you ride his thigh.

The slick of your arousal is starting to seep through your shorts and soaking into his sweatpants; if you could translate your and his neediness, you both wanted the same things. To rid yourself of your clothes. You were piqued beyond your desires, wanting to rub your drenched pussy against his bare thigh, and Seonghwa had his heart in his mouth, picturing how pretty you'd look cumming on his thigh. With his hand slipping against the small of your back, he gives you subtle hint and you take it; propping yourself on your feet, you stand while Seonghwa pulls away from your chest and suppresses a groggy grunt in his stomach.

"I better have you moaning my name when you're riding my thigh."

As he voices the steepest craving of his heart, he pinches your nipple harder and twists it in between his forefinger and thumb; you gasp, your lungs burning to the sting of your chest while you're starting to pool in your shorts.

"Do you understand that little girl?" he emphasises and tugs harshly on your nipple, red blotches starting to fade in across your skin.

"Yes—yes," you mutter, catching a breath, but aren't really given much time when Seonghwa's hand cups your tit before the palm lands flat and harsh against it.

"What do we say, Angel?" he slurs your name, and it rolls off his tongue coated with honey.

"Yes, daddy." he nods, willingly palming your tit before slapping it again, "that's what I like to hear, hmm..."

The meagre vibrations of his voice are just resonating in your ears when his delicate touches ghost your waist. Your bare skin gets trickled with goosebumps the moment he engulfs you in his warmth. Effortlessly, as you meet his eyes, pleading him to rid you from your shorts, he hooks his fingers under the waistband and tugs them down. Not a second is wasted in kicking the shorts off your body; they lay strewn on the floor, sprawled by the legs of Seonghwa's chair.

You're about to lower yourself back into his lap when he makes you cease your actions with a simple nudge of his head. Seonghwa, unfazed by your glistening cunt, quickly pulls his sweatpants down and lets them bunch at his ankles. Trapping a mewl in your chest, you then straddle a side of him, situating yourself and your aroused cunt on one of his thighs.

"Hmm, fuck me, Angel," Seonghwa moans, throwing his head back when he feels your slick caress his skin, "you're fucking leaking down here. Such a—such a wet cunt rubbing up and down my thigh," he takes a deep breath and squints his eyes close, "you seriously want me to lose it, don't you?"

You bite down on your lower lip and nod your head, pressing your back into his thigh and letting your cunt drag over; the very first brush of your folds against his skin was ecstatic, beaming a haze of sheer raw carnality through your body. Seonghwa catches his breath and straightens his head to have his gaze fixed on you. The specs of brown are mild and pale in his eyes, mostly because they were concealed behind a thick curtain of lust. The look in his eye is quite similar to the one you had caught up on that night, the night where you were sandwiched in between Yunho and him.

"I just—I just want to cum," you cry in absolute agony, the dragging minutes turning your arousal painful and harrowing. "I can't—Hwa, I can't take this much long—longer."

"Darling, no one's stopping you," he growls, "go ahead, make a mess on my thigh," he clicks his tongue and shakes his head, a sly smile curving his lips, "or does daddy's little girl need his cock to set her straight?"

When he rasps his words, you let a part of your sanity slip away into the dark of your lust; craving most of him, you rock your hips against his thigh, your wet folds fretting with a want so inhumanly strong to break you apart in meagre seconds. Needless to say, you were long gone, led astray in the land of darkness and pure lechery. How could you take things slow when you were beyond any hope, beyond the particulars of your aroused body forcing you to fold and rile up in all the worst ways possible. Your body jolts to the upheaving urge of suffering; cinched by your mind, you tense up the moment a tight knot fickle with your gut.

Winding your arms around his shoulders, you procure a much needed leverage for your hips to rub on his thigh. The sensation kept dragging out your high, kept you in the steady motion while you were whimpering in utmost pleasure. And the man under you was completely unfazed, however bewildered and amused to watch you use him to help you come undone. This was his first time watching you so desperate for him, his first time touching your cunt; it blew up a fuse in his head, mouth drooling at the sight of you and your tits bouncing, the sinful sounds your mouth parted with, and how lusciously loud you were starting to get. Combusting with the remaining desire, you steady the rhythm of your hips and tighten your arms around his shoulders. Your cunt kept clenching around nothing, your clit in a sensory overdose from grinding for long and your needy self still ached to be filled by him. Moans grew louder, your eyes welled with tears and blurred your vision.

"Daddy..." a whimper shudders in your most devastating voice ever, "I want you—I want your cock, please. I need you—I need you so bad, daddy."

Seonghwa's unholy chuckle resounds only a little when he immerses himself in the play of his cravings and dives in to lick your already shimmering tits. His spit layers on your skin, his cock springing and straining in his briefs at the way your delicate cunt kept stroking his thigh. This could be the ultimate end of your struggle, you were so sure the tension in your stomach would ease out if you continued for even a minute more. But to your disappointment, one of Seonghwa's hands comes down to caress your mound; he offers you a little slap before using his other hand to stop you. A bashing strike of his hand against your stomach is enough to bring you out of the daze, to have your hips rolling back while your body manages to comprehend the situation.

"Hmm," Seonghwa clicks his tongue, "my little girl needs daddy's cock to fuck her good, hmm..?" continuing to muse, he mumbles against your chest, "such a needy little girl."

"Please daddy," you whisper, tilting your head down to meet his eye.

"Get on your feet," he commands and you oblige, standing up with your legs on either side of his.

Seonghwa lets a teasing curve slide on his lips before he starts pulling his briefs down; he manages to slip them off his legs, shoving them to a side while he glances at you and how your eyes were tracing every inch of his cock. Indeed, you were staring down at him, salivating with the anticipation of when you'd be stuffed by him. Biting back on a groan, you could barely keep yourself up, merely have strength to keep yourself on your feet. When your knees buckle with an absolute want and feeble enthusiasm, you land straight in his lap. Seonghwa clicks his tongue, in an attempt to distract you from the embarrassment you thought you were delving in; he pulls your further down by your waist and lets the tip of cock nudge a side of your inner thigh.

In the heat of the moment, you mewl from the pit of your stomach and lurch into his chest. Simmering kisses along his clothed chest and collarbones, you graze your lips painfully slow to meet his; a fracture in time melts all boundaries for your rationality, and the next thing you know, you're licking his lips and shoving your tongue into his mouth. You pry his mouth further open, letting it fall wide while your tongue slithers past his and plunges to the base of his throat.

Seonghwa hums, letting you do as you please; he was more concentrated on bucking his hips into yours, to let you feel his hard cock, let it dent in your lower belly. You're far too gone, though a few minutes prior to this you were on the edge cumming, and now you're riling yourself up again. Pressing your tongue against the roof of Seonghwa's mouth, you shift in his lap and situate yourself in a desperate position. Your cunt stroked up his cock, the tip almost slipping inside but you veer slightly to let it slide out and up your mound. Musty stench of sweat and sex had already dissipated in the morning air, how the sunshine basked in glory of shining across your bodies and entrapping them in warmth of refined pleasure.

Breathless, Seonghwa pulls you by your waist and angles his head back; he takes a lug of air through his mouth and lets his lips mould into a smirk.

"What was that?" he questions, his husky voice dwindling to a mere whisper, "my little girl knows how to play, doesn't she...?"

You nod, succumbing to such neediness that you have to stable yourself by holding onto his shoulders. "Yes daddy..."

Seonghwa has had a good grasp on his untamed mind for quite long. Though he knows he's going to lose it soon, and the more you heed him by the word he so often goes crazy listening to, he might not really not go too easy on you. His hands glide down the small of your back and cup your ass. While his eyes are too busy fixated on you, he leans in to catch your lower lip in between his teeth. You give into him because you were wasted, intoxicated by carnality to have any logical notions to think straight. The raggedness of his calloused hands rubs against your ass. Taking the hint, you lift yourself only a bit for him to guide you down onto his cock. And he might have struggled a little to slip inside you, because he was distracted by your desperate eyes and the way he had trapped your lower lip in his mouth.

You whine, managing to get your words out, "fuck—daddy, I need you—fucking please."

"You're doing great so far, love," he praises you, freeing your lip from his clasp and continues, "come on, you can get it in by yourself, can't you?"

On the verge of crying out, you quickly nod your head and bring one of your hands down from his shoulder to wrap it around his cock. You give him a few strokes along the shaft and then proceed to pump his tip; bracing yourself, you use the same hand to align him against you, your attention solely fixed on Seonghwa's as he watches you with so much admiration. The moment the tip of his cock prods with your folds, his brows scrunch to the centre and his eyes flutter close. He voices a guttural moan, clasping down hard on his lower lip while you swallow the length of his cock. It slips right in because of your abundant arousal leaking out; he grows harder inside of you, twitching slightly you completely sink down and wrap your velvet walls around him.

"Ah, fuck. Angel..." he mutters under his breath, peeling his eyes open to find you were equally stuck in the trance of pleasure with him, "is daddy's cock perfect for you?"

You nod, "yes, daddy's cock—daddy's cock fits so well in my cunt."

And there goes your ability to structure cogent responses and voice them at the same time. You were bound to get drunk on all the dopamine and serotonin dispersed in your bloodstream; Seonghwa's body was just another excuse for your brain's haphazard behaviour. His cock nestles deep in your cunt, slightly straining again as you try to adjust to the stretch and his length. Seonghwa may not be as girthy or thick as Yunho, or Jongho for that matter, regardless, he had a good length to reach places which were probably not easily accessible to anyone. It wasn't a good time to recall, but the night you deep throated this man, you were practically left sore in your throat and Yunho's suggestion of drinking hot tea was a failed attempt.

"Such a good girl," Seonghwa mumbles, slotting one of his hands in the small of your back and tracing up the other one to your neck, "such a good fucking whore to take my—take my cock in. Feels good, hmm? Daddy's cock feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yes," you whimper, wincing softly before leaning over to envelope his shoulders with your arms. "Daddy's cock—daddy's cock feels really good. So fucking good."

Your voice starts breaking towards the end; throat drying to the possible thought of rolling his hips against his, for his cock to plunge even deeper than this. The moment you try to move your hips even an inch, Seonghwa slaps a hand across your tits to get you out of the daze. Bothered and immensely frustrated, you let out a saccade series of jumbled up whines and gasp.

"Fuck—what was—what was that for?" you stutter, watching the man with tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Don't move." He smirks, "not yet."

"Why not?"

Seonghwa's smirk grows deep into his cheek, "because I'm hungry. And I need to eat."

"Fucking really?" you heave out a low-pitched laugh, sliding your arms down to the hem of his shirt, "daddy really is un-fucking-predictable."

"And daddy's little girl shouldn't have such a foul mouth on her," he teases, bringing his hand again to strike it against your chest; to you surprise he doesn't, rather he slaps your already puffed cunt, "hope she's aware daddy knows a way to cleanse it. Does she want—ah fuck, love, you're clenching around me."

He leans over to grunt in your ear, "be a good little girl while I have my breakfast, darling. And I'll give you what you deserve, hmm?"

"Okay," you murmur, but bite your tongue, adding, "daddy..."

Seonghwa scoffs playfully and props your body against his chest; he makes sure you're resting on him while he reaches out to the cutlery holder on the table to grab himself a spoon. The plates were ready in front of him beforehand, from back then. He helps him to a small serve of the rice you two had cooked together. As the rice spills over the plate, his spoon clatters delicately; he collects a spoonful and brings it close to your mouth. In all honesty, you were indeed hungry, but didn't want to admit it to him. Not when you were frisky and needy in the beginning.

"Here," he rests the spoon by your lower lip, "open wide."

Rolling your eyes at his trivial attempt at mockery, you open your mouth and let him put the spoonful of rice in. The spicy and tangy undertones hit your taste buds, quickly followed by the crunch of veggies. You were baffled, struck by a dilemma; there was a party of flavours in your mouth and in the merry land of downtown, your cunt was stuffed with his cock. Which plight was more engaging and pleasurable? Obviously, eating.

You hum in a strangled manner, gazing at Seonghwa who himself had a spoonful of rice in his mouth. A blotch of sauce stains under his lip, just below on his chin and your mind goes off with an idea. Leaning in, your breath fans along his nose and lips, eventually turning intense on his chin. Your tongue darts out in the latter second and laps up the stain. You've licked it clean, and while you were immersed in doting on Seonghwa's lowly groans, you could feel him twitch in your cunt. It turned him on. Victory for you.

"Really?"

"What?" you act coy, rolling your hips into his to let the tip of his cock thrust into you slightly. "You've got weird kinks, I did what I thought you'd like..." you drag it to a mumble, "daddy."

He shakes his head, a smile splaying on his lips; he gets another spoonful of rice and feeds it to you. Again, you relish on the savoury taste and moan softly. Again, Seonghwa's cock pulsates in your cunt.

"I do." He answers to your priorly posed question, "in fact, feeding you is weirdly turning me on."

"Touché," you roll your eyes.

"Do you want to cum or not?" he mocks, sliding his other hand up your bare stomach to grope one of your tits.

"You're a fucking tease."

Uh-oh.

You shouldn't have said that.

'Cause the moment those words left your lips, Seonghwa's eyes lost their light, and his lips pursed together in a straight line. He lets the spoon drop against the plate, clattering louder at the impact and the echoes kept resonating around. You swallow thickly, your mind fogged with deliberate thoughts of him and anticipation. It takes a fraction of a second for Seonghwa to thrust his hips into yours, ramming his cock further up your cunt. You press on a moan, fumbling with your arms to allot them a place to rest; finding his shoulders perfect for your body to support itself you tangle them around him and hope for the best.

"Fine," he mutters, growling through his words halfway, "I'll get straight to the point then. Get on your feet."

His voice is as dark as his eyes, stern clear and firm; you swallow down on a lump in your throat again, and get on your feet. When you do, though, his cock slips out of your cunt and you wince at the emptiness; your much elated indulgence comes to a sudden halt but it doesn't leave you quite yet. As you're steadying your quavery feet on the floor, Seonghwa stands up from his chair and steps out of his sweatpants pooling around his ankles. Your eyes meet with his, losing yourself to the push and pull of your horniness; he takes a step towards you, while your back is pressed up against the table. The edge of the table dents into your flesh, but it's nothing compared to the steely despair in your stomach which bubbles through your body. He lurches over and rests his arms on either side of you, putting his hands on the table to trap you in between his body.

"Ass out, little girl," he rasps, "daddy is going to remind you how to behave around him."

With little to no resistance in your mind, you flip your body over and stick your ass out; he, on the other hand, does not hesitate in grabbing your waist or pulling your ass back into his crotch. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up to clutch it in between his teeth; the shirt rides up and exposes his toned abdomen, and chest. You glance over your shoulder to bask in the sight, the delicious sight of him biting down on the hem of his shirt and sporting a smirk on his lips. There's no denying, he was a piece of art and even more so, he appeared so fucking hot while pushing himself into you. His cock nudges against your asscheek as he rolls his hips into your rear; he continues to do so until his cock slips perfectly in between, under your cunt. The tip prods with your slit, tracing back and forth till he makes an attempt to sink into your warmth.

Seonghwa's grunt is partially coarse when he plunges the tip of his cock into you. The way he slips in so effortlessly into your cunt, reminds you how wet and aroused you were. Though, you wouldn't have minded if he had rubbed his cock along your slit for few more minutes; it was driving you insane how he drags his ministrations and tipping you off the edge. Your patience were disintegrating and it was hard to keep up with your body.

"Fuck, Angel," he slurs his words, "you're swallowing me in, fuck—so fucking eager."

He winds an arm around your waist, resting it right over your stomach to steady you before pushing himself further into your hips. Inch by inch, the entirety of his cock is buried in your cunt, the fullness causes you to tremble and shudder, forcing you to take a deep breath which apparently only stings your lungs. Seonghwa uses his other hand to slot it in the curve of your back, pushing you over the table and bending you into him. It was all about the convenience, finding the perfect angle for his cock to thrust and ram into all the good places inside you.

"Seonghwa..." you whimper, resting your hands in front of you, holding onto the table as you're pushed into it with his force. "Fuck—daddy, you're—a little faster, please."

Stringing out a few words to create something coherent, at least you thought you were. Seonghwa's thrusts pick up their pace, only by a tempo while he still teases you: he pushes in till the base of his cock, and pulls out fully to leave you whining on the empty feeling. He does that quite a lot, frequently slipping out of you and sliding back in with much fervent enthusiasm than before. The teasing was only so much you could handle at the given moment of time, because you were already in the hopeless state of mind, wanting to be railed by him without any restrictions or distractions.

It had certainly left your mind that you stayed here with seven others men; one of which who resents you but the other six are patient, awaiting on their chance with you. If any one of them were to walk in on the two of you, it'd be a mess. Not that you did not anticipate it. You would be propelled into a new world of kinks and chaos if someone were to watch you get dicked down by Seonghwa. Just picturing it makes you clench around Seonghwa's cock, groaning at the slow-paced thrusts and pokes he eventually made at your clit with the tip of it. You were beyond helpless and had a vague outline of future possibilities streaming in your mind. That is, if someone were to really walk in on the two of you, you really hoped it to be Yunho.

Fuck. That doesn't seem like a good idea, considering Yunho had conveyed a part of his jealousy when you were sucking Seonghwa's face off that one night. If he were to see you get railed by his friend, it'd make him vicious enough to pull Seonghwa off of you and complete the task himself.

Probably, you'd want San to walk in on you two; there's no logic to this, but to your better judgement, it seems right for him to. You and San hadn't had much of an interaction, though you're a hundred percent assured he'd revel in the sight of your ass sticking out and into Seonghwa's crotch. San was definitely an ass guy.

"What are you thinking about?" Seonghwa asks, losing his grasp on his shirt; it falls down over your back, tickling your skin softly.

"Nothing—nothing really."

"Liar. Tell me," he chuckles, dark and loud. "I know you're—fuck—thinking about something."

Seonghwa's grunt settles heavy against your shoulder when he pushes his cock back into and proceeds to fuck you with the tip; he leans in to rest his chin on your shoulder, his ragged breathing harsh against your skin, tickling a side of your face and your ear. The material of shirt chafes your skin to the slightest degree, but should you really be worried about that? Your mind had been numb to his cock prodding and thrusting harshly into you, the rhythm of his hips not once faltering; he's certainly going at it, but somehow drawling out your orgasm and his too. He brings both of his hands on either side of your waist, clutching and denting your flesh with his fingers.

"I know what you're thinking about," he groans, "fuck—what if someone were to—what if someone walks in on us, hmm?"

You moan, "daddy..."

"Little girl wants someone to watch her while she gets—fuck—while she gets railed by her daddy, hmm?"

"Yeah, thinking bout someone—someone watching me."

"Ah, daddy's little girl is really filthy," he plunges deep into you, the tip of his cock settling in your warmth, "wants someone to watch her—wants others to see how good—fuck—how fucking good her daddy fucks her."

"Please," you mewl, nails scratching against the wood of the table, varnish slipping under them. "Please daddy—wanna—wanna be a good girl for you."

"Hmm," he hums close to your ear, licking up a stripe to bite down on the shell of it, "you are. Such a good girl—such a good fucking girl—fuck, taking daddy's cock so fucking well."

His hips rattle your body, the pace building up to a heavy speed, and continuing to follow so; pushing at your back, he bends you further onto the table, almost pushing your chest flat against it. In your haphazard world, you are cautious not to fall on the half eaten plate of food and the little sauce pan of rice which remained covered. You turn your head to the side, cheek pressed up against the wooden top and catch in the glimpse of Seonghwa's sweaty face. A few drops cascade down his forehead, while a few strands of his stuck too close to his skin. He has a very fucked look in his eyes, losing himself to the insatiable temptation of hitting you from the back.

You stretch your hands in front of you, pressing the palms flat and supporting your body to the wild impacts of his hips. As the benign force of his thrusts causes you to oscillate back and forth against the table, you're somehow lost in the trance while staring at him. Seonghwa throws his head back, his throat arching so perfectly, so expressive of him; his adam's quivers under his skin, and he screws his eyes shut. You're on the verge of letting your tears slide down your face, stricken with immense pleasure and delight in the way his cock was ploughing through your puffy walls.

"Good girl for..." you muffle your words on your spit, the drool starting to accumulate and trickle past your mouth. "Good girl for daddy."

"Yes, sweetheart . Such a sweet girl." Seonghwa replies incoherently and continues, "such a sweet little cunt, swallowing my cock in—so fucking well."

He had lost it too; he rambled useless words in the daze of your walls cleaning around him. It was the sweet disposition which got him to thrust himself even deeper. Too deep. Too many long and hard thrusts. His crotch and lower abdomen stays flushed with your ass, his thighs boring into your hips with every thrust of his. The tip of his cock plunges in the steeper end of you, pushing through your walls and jolting your body close to your orgasm. One of Seonghwa's hands comes to rest on the nape of your neck, wrapping delicately before pushing your head further into the table. His other hand lays flat against the small of your back, somehow forcing you to arch your ass into his cock. It worked.

"Daddy..." you moan, eyes half-lidded and lips slick with your drool; not just your lips, your chin had a sheeny coat of your spit.

"A little more, darling," Seonghwa groans.

When you whimpered his name, it was the point of no return for him; he diverts his mind towards your cunt, and how your warmth had engulfed his cock in sheer pleasure. Your walls tauten around him, and devour his cock further into your heat. You weren't fond of the table, your body felt sore and aching against it; and his thrusts weren't easing out any of the pain, not when he had picked them up. The inhumane lunges of his hips, shoved his cock deep. Stroking his thumb on the back of your neck, he leans over to rest his forehead on your shoulder blade. His hot breath fans your skin, edging you close to your orgasm.

A unlikely and familiar heaviness knots in your gut, twisting them ferociously as your stomach growls with a need. Seonghwa's cock keeps hitting you in all the right places, in all the right ways; you were minutes away from crumpling down and easing out your orgasm. Sensing your walls clench around his pulsating cock, Seonghwa peppers your shoulder with gentle and light kisses. The fluttering sensation crawls down to your stomach and causes it to twist; you're so close, almost on the verge of letting it go. The hand resting against your back, traces up the length of your arm and pulls it down; he bends it over and slots it in the curve of your back. Doing the same with your other arm, he has both of them together against your back, while he traps your wrists in his death grip. You're far too fucked out of your mind to resist against anything.

"Go on, sweetheart," he whispers, "you deserve it—fuck—go on, make a fucking mess on daddy's cock."

"Holy fuck—I'm—I'm fucking—I'm..." your voice gets lost in the sound of your skin slapping with his.

That was it. The last bits of his words make you go crazy, snapping every string of self-restraint and control, cutting off every thought to your brain and body. He drills his cock into you, keeping it concise and easy, and you're unravelling all over him. The knot in your gut nicks at your stomach, tightening it up further in your chest, and when the lightness washes you down, you relax your muscles and hear your juices splash. The cold drops trickle down your inner thighs, coating every inch of his cock as he continues to thrust through it.

"Such a good girl," Seonghwa growls, stuttering in his words, "daddy's gonna fill you up, sweetheart—daddy's gonna fill this sweet little cunt up."

Your lungs burn, your throat feels a little sore and your body feels lethargic; you're almost certain you'd pass out if he were to continue like this. Seonghwa heaves out a groan, which comes out hard from his chest as he fixes his drunken gaze on your face. His continues to caress his thumb against the back of your neck, which you had forgotten about a few minutes ago, and rolls his thighs into yours; his hips stay flushed against yours for a meagre second until he's pulling back. Keeping up with this, he thrusts in deep for the last time before his cock twitches with the urge; drenching your walls in his warmth, he spurts his load into you and rides it out with a few more thrusts.

The warmth of his cum dribbles on your skin, trailing further down to your knees when he pulls out. Emptiness scorns your body, pulling it out of the trance and your mind clears up with the post-orgasm clarity. His heat dissipates to cold air when he pulls himself away from you; stepping back, he heaves out a heavy sigh and runs a hand through his sticky and sweaty hair. You take a moment, a short second to compose your breathing before pushing yourself from the table. Your body feels lightweight and relaxed, but at the same time, you're drained. Even standing on your feet seemed like a task you'd fail at miserably. You plop down on the chair instead, hugging its backrest close to your chest and resting your head down against its edge.

"Now, that was something," a deep voice rumbles; the man clicks his tongue and pulls your attention on him. You raise your head up, almost too quickly and it gives you a good whiplash.

"How long have you been standing there for?" Seonghwa questions, pulling his briefs and sweatpants over his waist. He sounds a little breathless as well. Obviously.

"Fuck," you whisper under your breath, your naked form in all its glory in front of the man you hadn't spoken to a lot before.

He stood aimlessly by the kitchen's entrance, giving him the flawless view of you and Seonghwa doing it on the dining table. You were trembling with so much excitement after knowing there indeed was someone watching you while you got dicked down. But you did not expect it to be him. Not at all. The man has a flustered face, cheeks, the tip of his nose and ears, tainted with the subtle shade of red. He wore a black tank top and grey jogger shorts, his long ebony shaded hair sat disheveled yet neatly framed his face; half of it was tied back in a small and messy ponytail, while most of his hair stayed loose and tickled the sides of his face.

"Since she brought up someone walking in on your two," he simply shrugs and steers his gaze away from Seonghwa and onto you, "don't worry, Angel. You were fucking hot, writhing under his body. Look—" he glances down, and you do too, finding a tent in his shorts, "—my cock was so excited to see you like that."

"Well, we're actually done," Seonghwa wraps an arm around your shoulders and leans down to kiss your temple, "she's all yours if you want her."

The man standing by the kitchen, with a chilled water bottle in his hand, muses and contemplates for a good minute before his sleazy smile turns into a mischievous smirk. He unscrews the cap of his water bottle and chugs a good amount of water before sighing out in satisfaction and putting the cap back on. You could roughly translate what his eyes spoke to you at that moment, there's no way you wouldn't understand the hunger and wildness in them. And if you were honest, he was the last person you wanted to spend your time with.

"Sounds good," he mumbles, "we actually have a bone to pick, don't we Angel?"

Seonghwa gawks, "oh really?"

"Yeah," the latter continues, "we better get it done, right Angel." his voice drops down a baritone and his eyes lose their jubilant temperament, "you've already pissed me off too much, Angel. I better not find you stalling today as well."

Dread crawls your stomach and your mind goes blank, if it isn't the consequences of your actions. You're biting on your tongue, wondering how you'd get out of this. If you recall anything from the past, you might remember you were handed a contract and asked to read through it. You stalled, procrastinated and did everything else but pay any attention to that contract over the past week. Of course, now the devil haunts you, just as he had been haunting you in the past week. To your defence, the contact withheld a lot of information and most of the times, you'd fall asleep reading it. So, you put that task off till you were in a good mood and free from your university assignments. That day never came actually.

Yeosang's smirk grows in his cheek, his eyes devouring your naked stature as whole before he heaves out a breath and tugs at the straps of his tank top. You had no idea what he was thinking about. There was no way to know since you weren't a mind reader. But if you could vaguely rely on your imagination, you could tell he was thinking of ways to punish you. And that somehow, turned you on like a bitch. You were yet to venture into his kink, know his preferences and the anonymity itself made you wet, wetter than before when you were with Seonghwa.

"She's all yours, Sangie." Seonghwa kisses your cheek this time, "just give her some time to clean herself. I came in too hard."

"Of course, but yeah," you chime in, an awkward chuckle leaving your lips, "why don't I take a shower and meet you in your room once I'm done?"

He listens to your suggestion intently, ponders over it and breaks his silence to give out his testimony. "It's just cum, I'm fine with it."

As the serenity falls over the three of you, Yeosang clears his throat, "come on now."

You tense up, your shoulders going stiff and your body convulsing; you were caught up in your mind, reeling back to your moment with Seonghwa. Regardless, you were attentive enough to listen Seonghwa's clueless chatter further on.

"What is this about, Sangie?"

Yeosang shrugs, leaning back against the wall and folding his arms over his chest; the way his muscles bulge and flex, cause you to lose a part of your sanity. "Do you want to join us for a round two?"

Seonghwa shakes his head, while you're comprehending what Yeosang had just uttered and why was it so filthily hot coming from his mouth. "I wish," the older sighs, "gotta clean up the mess here and then wake the others up. I've got a few tasks lined up for the day, too. I'm taking a rain check, regardless of how fun it sounds."

His warmth clashes against your forehead when he turns and leans down to kiss it, "Angel helped me with my lethargy in the morning. I'm as refreshed as a daisy blooming on a Sunday morning."

Yeosang hums and Seonghwa adds in a mere whisper directed to you, "I have something planned for you tonight, though. Meet me in my room after dinner, hmm?"

You nod, eyes shuffling across the span of the space to meet Yeosang's; he has something lurking in his, something cruel, a few dwelling strokes of sinister intentions and a bit of malice to have your heart palpitating for no reason whatsoever. Shifting your legs on the chair you sat on, you sense something trickle down from between your thighs; the jolt of realisation strikes you hard and you quickly get on your feet before you stain the chair.

Seonghwa casts you a bemused glance, and upon understanding your actions, he lets out a soft chuckle. "It's fine, Angel. You don't have to worry about it."

You pout, "I wouldn't want to add in to your troubles, you've got a lot of them already."

"I can manage, Angel."

Seonghwa shakes his head and picks up your shorts; he hands them to you and you're quick to slip into them, preventing any flow out that might cause with your curt movements. Running his eyes on your bare chest, and the emerging purple blotches around your neck and tits, he grabs your shirt as well, and tugs it over your head. Exalted by his mannerisms, your heart does a little leap and drops down to your stomach.

"Well, thanks..."

"Are you two done?" Yeosang questions, voicing out his ire and annoyance.

"Yes," Seonghwa laughs, "go easy on her, Sangie. She's new to your kink."

"I'll think about it." The latter smirks and straightens himself off the wall, "any day now, Angel. I hate it when people keep me waiting."

"And it irks me even more when they aren't obedient."

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[reginalusus]

Retro tutorial?

Disclaimer: Tumblr, for some reason, likes to dullen the colour of the screenshots, just know that they're actually a bit more saturated and brighter than how they appear here.

So, after posting my recent retro drawings on Reddit, and getting some comments that genuinely made me cry (/pos), I noticed I also got quite a few comments asking me how I actually do these drawings.

Er, I'm not the best teacher, really, and honestly, there's probably an easier, faster way to do it. But, this is my way of doing it, lmao. I work on a Gen 2 iPad Pro with a Gen 1 Apple Pencil, just in case you're wondering.

Firstly, here are the four apps I use for this kind of drawing:

From left to right: Sketchbook Pro, Pixlr, Photoleap and CapCut. Sketchbook Pro is what I use to draw everything. You could honestly use any drawing app though. We will talk about the other three when we get to them.

Step 1: draw whatever it is you want to draw.

I'm going to use the first drawing I did in this style to help me explain: my simpy Spamton drawing! Firstly, basically draw whatever your little heart wants. Get your sketch layer down. Here's what my sketch layer looked like:

Looks bad, no? Lol, it always starts that way. Just get your drawing down first. I rely heavy on references for clothing. I found this particular pose on Pinterest. Pinterest is great for finding references.

Notice that I have some spaces filled in with the word 'black'. This is literally just to remind me that the particular space will just be filled with a solid black.

This particular pose and setting is tricky, I'm just using it as an example and because I still have the original files for it. I recommend maybe starting with a portrait or a face first.

Step 2: fill in and clean your lines. This is important, especially for the anime look.

When I do linework, I tend to make the lines thicker wherever they meet one another. For this style, it doesn't really work, and I had to train myself to stop doing that.

As you can see, I made some changes along the way, such as making Spamton's expression softer and making him grin instead of smirking. How do I know when to make something solid black? This is mostly for clothes. If you are following a reference, and you notice that some of the shadows are darker than others on the reference, make those darkest shadows your solid-blacks.

So, here we have the finished lines! Remember: no making the lines thicker where they meet! Keep the lines thin all around. If you're wondering what brush I use in Sketchbook for the finished lines, it's this one:

This is the ONLY brush I use for the retro drawings, besides a pencil for the sketch layer. It provides a nice, solid, thin line.

Step 3: Filling Flat Colours.

The easiest step IMO. Choose your colours, fill those babies in.

Unfortunately, I think I deleted my flats layer (I have no idea why, but I cannot find it, lmao), so I don't have an image to show for this step. But, it's self-explanatory. Just colour it in with your flats.

You can choose saturated colours if you wish, but we'll be editing that sort of stuff later.

Step 4: Shading.

Ooh, the tricky stuff. But this is what will make or break the look of the drawing. Besides lines, shading is important as fuck for this style. I recommend pulling up some screenshots from actual 80s/90s anime. For this Spamton drawing, here's some of the ones I used as a reference:

Remember to make your shading on separate layers! You may want to change their tone and opacity later, as I did.

The shading in old anime is usually done with one colour, which is cooler-toned than the flat it is based off. Remember to keep the shading as simple as you can if you want to actually make it look like a screenshot from an anime or cartoon.

For shadows, I used the multiply tool or the overlay tool. You can mess around with these to see which one suits your drawing best. It mostly depends on the colour.

For 'lights', I used either the soft glow tool or the overlay tool. However, I don't recommend spending too much time 'lighting' your colours. Retro anime tends to focus more on shadows rather than lighting (obviously there are exceptions).

As you can see, the only 'lighting' I used on Spamton was a small section of his hair, and a shine on his suit. The rest is either shadows or flats:

For clothing, follow a reference or follow where your light is coming from. For this, I followed the reference.

Step 5 (Optional): Adding Gradients.

You don't need to do this, but to help with the 'mood' of the drawing, I added a gradient over the top of the layer. I chose a dark purple/blue to give that city vibe, then I used the darken tool and turned the opacity down. So, it looks like this:

The difference isn't much, but it will add a lot to the vibe!

Step 6 (Optional): Backgrounds. *Shudders.*

I'll be real, I can't do backgrounds for shit. Well, I can sort of do them, but I definitely don't enjoy it. If you can do your own backgrounds, this will probably come easier. I have a sneaky, maybe cheaty method, however, to make it look good.

Firstly, make sure any 'windows' or areas in your drawing that you want to add a background to are empty. The windows in Spamton's car here are transparent. You'll want to put your background layer at the very bottom, behind everything else.

Firstly, I choose a solid colour and fill the entire layer. I chose a navy/purple for this one, since it's always dark in Cyber City.

Then, and here's the cheat part, I find a stock image of a city skyline. I deliberately picked one that had sort of 'basic' buildings. Put this on top of your solid colour and use the hard light tool.

The hard light tool tends to focus on the lights and basic outline of the image. I did do some smudging and added some lights to give it that 'retro' feel. The lower quality it looks, the better. So then it looks like this:

But the car needs windows! Easy. I chose a blue colour with the soft glow tool and added them like so (on top of all the background layers):

Step 7: Editing in Pixlr.

Now, this is my favourite part: the editing to really make the image pop! Firstly, we are going to use Pixlr, so save your image and open it up in Pixlr.

So, in Pixlr I only do two things: choose some overlay editors and up the saturation. Firstly, the overlay editors. The ones I choose for the retro look are:

Antonio - this blurs the lines somewhat, and makes it overall darker/softer. I obviously do not use it to its full capacity (there's a slider you can mess around with under each tool to find your desired effect, though I recommend using Antonio only a little.)

Hagrid - this will make it look slightly more saturated and sharper. It also adds a sort of 'burn' effect on each outline of the colours. Again, I use this one only slightly.

Ivan - One of my favourites for Big Shot Spamton. Again, I only use it slightly. This one will add an orange effect and 'fix' some of your shading. Though, it only works to its full potential if you have your shading as best as it can be.

Sara - Another really good one for retro anime. It's sort of like Hagrid, but softer. Depending on your colours, it will also add a soft 'glow' effect. Because of this, I only use it a little, as older anime does not have the intense glow you see in more recent anime, in general.

There are lots of other options. You can play around to see which one will suit the vibe you're going for best!

Then, we go into the general menu and up the saturation if needed!

Step 8: Editing in Photoleap - then back to Sketchbook!

Why the fuck do you use two editors? Simple - Photoleap has some cool options that Pixlr does not, and vice versa. We won't be spending as much time in Photoleap compared to Pixlr.

Now, Photoleap does NOT allow screenshots within the app, so I just have to explain it without any images.

In Photoleap, we're only going to be doing two things, and one of those things are optional. Firstly, using the grain tool. This will really add to that 'old' look. Don't go too hard on it!

The optional thing you can do is add a red chromatic abberation. It's under the 'effects' tab in Photoleap. However, sometimes this will take away from the retro look, so use it carefully. I only used the tiniest amount for this drawing to make the lines look 'cleaner'.

Once I'm done in Photoleap, I save the image and export it back into Sketchbook. This is where I'll add/fix some things, such as adding a shine in Spamton's eyes, a shine on the car window and the smoke coming from his cigarette. I also bring the gradient layer back up and mess with the colour a bit (optional).

Have you noticed the large, black border to the right of the drawing? Yeah, that'll be cropped. I decided to make the overall image smaller and, unfortunately, Sketchbook Pro does not allow you to change the canvas size once you've started a drawing (please add this option, Autodesk!)

Step 9: CapCut Editing.

This will seriously be the cherry-on-top to actually make this thing look like a screenshot. Save your image and open it up in CapCut.

Firstly, you'll want to add an 'effect' to the photo. Under 'retro', I personally choose 'frosted quality', because it adds a moving grain and gives an 'old cartoon' feel, which is what I'm after. There are lots you can choose from, it's up to you to play around with it! You can also adjust the effect as you wish. I tend to turn the blur completely off.

Then, the last step in CapCut: adding a caption, if you want. I make the text yellow and add an italic effect to make it seem like an actual subtitle.

Step 10 (Final): Exporting.

That's us basically finished! I'll export it as a video from CapCut, crop it using my iPad's default editing software in the gallery, then export it as a GIF. Exporting it as a GIF lowers the quality a tad further, which is a bonus for this type of drawing. Viola! You now have a retro-anime-inspired piece!

Final Notes

Again, I'm not a good teacher and this is kind of all over the place, lmao. But, I hope it can guide those who wish to try this style!

If you do try it, maybe tag me and let me see if my tutorial worked for you? Or maybe you were just curious, lmao. There's a LOT of steps here, lol, and I'm not a professional artist by any means, so...

Anyway, that's all from me for now!

[foundnthestars]

!!!! Hi mootie!!!! I have A Thing

SO. I'm a firm believer in Dipper "make a list or plan for absolutely everything" Pines leaves notes for himself around the house CONSTANTLY

Do you think Ford would stumble across them? When he least expects it, opens a cabinet, lifts a cup, and there's a little folded scrap of paper with "Stan's favorite cup, always put back top side down!" Underneath? Do you think he opens a drawer looking for a pen and finds a little "Out of double A batteries, ask Soos to get more!" Perched on the top? Do you think he learns about his nephew this way. Do you think he feels bad

(Hi Sky I hope ur having a good weekend!! :] Awful weather up here, hoping yours has been a little nicer!!)

hi there!!! as always, i loveee your contributions to this au, and this whole Thing in particular will be something so important to ford's arc in ttwl!

i think similarly to how ford haunted dipper's narrative over the summer, dipper will haunt much of ford's waking and sleeping life over the next couple years. i mentioned in the last post the idea that ford will stumble upon some of dipper's old "who is the author?" notes all over the place, and these would definitely be among the most impactful artifacts left behind for ford. like, he's heard from mabel and everyone else just how much dipper revered him, but to see the proof left behind is another thing completely. he reads dipper's scrawl in the journal, the entry after he'd successfully captured a gremloblin, and feels sick to his stomach at the words "I wonder if the Author would be impressed."

and then there's the other stuff too, the evidence of dipper's life that is separate from ford and dipper's summer-long curiosity over him. there are the banal things — the things that anyone else might just overlook. these are the lists and notes. the "i am pretending to write something down" clipboard ditched in the deep recesses of a drawer somewhere, the paper crinkled and forgotten. a note left behind for wendy taped to the cash register, "stan's orthopedic back pillow: living room cabinet, top shelf to the right." or, "mabel+grenda+candy sleepover tomorrow, buy earplugs" left somewhere in the living room. a four-pack of pitt cola forgotten back in the fridge, labeled "DIPPER'S! DON'T TOUCH, MABEL!"

he grows an inexplicable fondness for dipper in this quiet, recordable existence he's left behind.

but why stop at notes and lists? here are some other ways dipper haunts the mystery shack and ford's life!

there's a slight indentation in the wall with another one just a millimeter higher up on the wall, right around mabel's height. next to the marks are some hastily scribbled measurements and the kids' initials, written in his brother's famously indecipherable script

a copy of The Case of the Caper-Case Caper, one of Ford's old personal favorites when he and Stan used to read the Sibling Brothers as kids

a waste bucket full of broken, bleeding blue ballpoint pens

there are scratch marks over the eye of his stained glass triangular window, crafted with his old muse in mind, up in the attic, as if someone had frantically tried to scrape it off with a sharp object of some sort

(hi copper!! my weekend's great, hope you're having a good one too!! it's been rainy here off and on, but we definitely need it!! hope the weather gets better where you're at!!)

[louellaby]

FORGET-ME-NOT

REPLACED!MC AU

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

W A R N I N G

May contain bad grammar, limited vocabulary, and OOC characters. Please mind that English is not my first language, and it takes a lot of courage for me to post due to my anxiety and paranoia.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

taglist: @books-and-catears @owl778 @yourlocalgrass @kaiserkisser @hhurric4ne @amberheavendremurr @yu-ulda @bk-4-trash-fire

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER I | CHAPTER II | CHAPTER III | LOUE'S LETTER | CHAPTER IV | CHAPTER V | LOUE'S LETTER | CHAPTER VI | CHAPTER VII | CHAPTER VIII | CHAPTER IX | CHAPTER X | LOUE'S LETTER | EPILOGUE

E P I L O G U E

「 I'm Right Here! ��

"Y-You're not really going to k-k-k... m-me, are you? I know you won't...! Y-You are all a bunch of sweethearts, after all, and you're all just messing with me right now! Y-You can't do this to me...!"

"Have you forgotten, Lady Soley? They're demons. And with one command from me, you'd be gone."

In the Devildom, the lives of the demons continued on as usual. The streets were bustling with noise, the shops full of customers, the forests as quiet as they have ever been, and the servants of the castle were all busy preparing for an upcoming festival which should bring more cheer to the realm. But in that particular castle, a man sighed deeply as he eyed the paper that slowly crumpled in his grasp.

"That's the 16th sigh this minute, Lucifer," Diavolo lightly chuckled as he watched his friend with an apologetic look. The prince knew what Lucifer was extremely bothered with.

It had already been four weeks since school ended. Everyone should be on vacation, including Lucifer and Diavolo, but they couldn't stay away from this specific problem. Why? Because it was the case of their failed human exchange student, Soley Day, who was thought to have disappeared months ago during their trip. That's right, no one outside the group knew what really happened to her. It's all a big secret.

"What are we going to do about this, Diavolo?" Lucifer sighed once more before dropping the paper on the table and leaning back on his chair. He tried to soothe his headache by rubbing his temples, hanging his head to the back. "I'm supposed to be on a trip with my family, and you told me two months ago that you would handle this on your own."

"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need your help on this one. I thought I could handle it, but it turns out this is a bigger problem that we hoped for, considering everyone's wondering where Soley has disappeared to. It has become a huge headache."

"Yeah, I can feel that." Lucifer sat up straight again and looked at his friend. "Does the Celestial Realm have a problem with this as well?"

Diavolo shook his head, "No. For reasons unknown to me, they left this one alone. The only problem now lies in Soley's family."

"I see, so that's what's bothering you. Despite their title, they're still just humans, Diavolo. It would be easy to deceive them."

"... Do you really think that that's the only way left to go?" The prince got bothered by Lucifer's reason. He knew Lucifer was getting impatient that he'd suggest something like this, but... is that really what it has come to? Deceiving humans who he wanted to gain the trust of?

A lot of time has passed. Eventually, even Diavolo understood how irritable Lucifer has become, the more the paperwork kept piling on and on. And so, the Avatar of Pride was dismissed for the day.

"You know, it's rare for you to admit you want to spend time with your family," teased Diavolo, enjoying the sight of Lucifer's face turning red as the man got up from his seat.

"My family is important to me, Diavolo. Every single one of those seven; they're all important to me. That will never change." Lucifer left the room, hurrying back home where seven people were waiting in chaos for him to return.

"Family, huh..?"

"Mother! Father! I'm back!" A certain girl with light orange hair and lime green eyes exclaimed, excitedly running out of a limousine and rushing into the arms of her awaiting parents.

"Soley! Welcome home! We were so worried about you! So, so worried!"

"I told you you didn't have to worry so much. I'm fine and in one piece." The girl then looked towards the man who stood behind her parents. "Heath!" She ran past the couple and jumped into the man's arms; an action that surprised both the man and the couple, along with the other servants surrounding them.

It was the first time in a very long while that their young lady showed any closeness or emotion towards her butler. While most were happy about this unexpected development, some were suspicious. Nevertheless, everyone was happy with the events, and her parents were so proud of her.

Little did anyone know, a translucent figure with tears in her eyes was watching them up close.

"Mother! Father! Heath! That's not me! Everyone! Listen to me! I'm right here!"

Despite her constant shouting, her unbearable protests, her desperate efforts in making them notice her; not one of them reacted to her presence. Every time she tried to touch any of them, her hand went through their bodies as if they were made of air; but it was, in fact, her own figure that was the problem.

"Come, Soley, we prepared a party for your return. All of your friends are here, and they can't wait to see you!"

"Alright, I'm coming, but after the party, can we have our own time together? You know, as a family?"

Once again, everyone around them was taken aback. Even the invisible form of her, who cringed at the suggestion.

Everyone knew Soley wasn't one to spend time with her parents anymore. Not since she grew up and had her own friends that she called her family. Because of the surprise, Soley's parents hugged the girl with tears in their eyes. They were so happy to hear that their precious daughter wanted to be with them again that they didn't even question anything. The ghost just watched it happen; her claws digging into her arms and her biting her lip in frustration.

"How dare that fake steal all the attention meant for me... I refuse to take this!"

That day had been a difficult one for the young lady. She watched in pain as her impostor lived the life that was meant to be hers. She did her best trying to get just anyone to notice her. Most painfully, she watched as the fake walked through the halls of the place she called home, with the man she held closest to her heart.

"Heath, I have a question."

"Yes, my lady?"

The two of them were in Soley's room. Heath was helping the lady prepare for the grand party happening later that day.

"What would you do if someone confessed their romantic feelings for you?"

"Oh, no. No, no, no. You're not doing this to me."

The butler dropped the brush he was holding, freezing in place as he locked eyes through the mirror with the girl in front of him. "I, uhm, I-I beg your pardon?"

"If someone confessed to you, what would you do?"

"Heath, don't answer that!"

The more the questions popped up, the wider Heath's eyes went. His brows furrowed. He suspected everything would've been a joke, but the look in Soley's eyes told him they weren't. And so, putting his heart on his sleeve, he opened his mouth in response.

"I suppose it would depend on my own feelings as well, my lady."

"What do you mean?"

"I will be happy and accept the confession of the person if I also feel the same way for them as they do for me."

"But if you don't, then..."

"Then, no, I'm afraid."

The lady sitting in front of the mirror removed her gaze from Heath and placed it on another. Soley's ghost gasped in surprise when she realised her impostor was staring directly at her, a smirk on her face forming before she opened her mouth and spoke to the butler again, her eyes not looking away from the spirit.

"What about me?"

"... my lady?"

Soley got off the chair and approached the butler, who stood still in confusion. She reached out and held both of his hands in hers, longingly staring at his eyes.

"What if I tell you, Heath, that I have feelings for you? Would you accept them?"

"My Lady, I—"

"Don't worry about your job, Heath. It's secure, and I'll keep it that way no matter your answer. I just want to know how you feel about me."

"No, please. Don't do this to me...! Y-You can't take Heath away from me, ple—"

"I..." The butler paused for a moment. And at that moment, all of his precious memories with his lady rushed through his head, displaying themselves one-by-one.

Heath stared into Soley's eyes just as she had hoped he would. His breathing quickened the more he realised the weight of the situation. But that was a moment he had always been waiting for. The moment he thought would never come. Not even in a million years.

"... I love you, Soley."

"What do you suppose happened to Soley's soul up in the human world?"

"Everything went according to plan, Young Master. Lady Soley had seen her life taken away from her, including the one she felt romantic feelings for. She is currently on a breakdown as we speak."

"What about MC?"

"MC is doing better than before. Their bond with the brothers has deepened greatly."

"Good. Perfect. ..... It's time to find a new exchange student. This time, let's hope they won't be as troublesome as the previous one. And even if they are, we can count on MC to handle it."

"Of course, my Lord. I will prepare the papers."

The moment the Seven Rulers of the Underworld and their human master returned from their family vacation, they were met with stacks and stacks of papers with information about new candidates for the exchange program. As the prince and his butler expected, a tsunami of complaints and disagreements washed over them. After a long while of discussions, everyone agreed to close the exchange program temporarily until they could find the perfect students for it.

Little did they know, a human sorcerer was watching them from his crystal ball in the human world. The moment his deep blue eyes glowed, a piece of paper appeared in his hands. He studied its contents for a moment before placing it in an envelope, a smile appearing on his face as he held the letter out towards the white raven that rested on its perch.

"Deliver this to the prince of the Devildom. Tell him I'm interested in his so-called exchange program."

"Your wish is my command, Lord Ceowald."

「 LOUE'S LETTER | THE END.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Loue's Note:

Whether you've been here since the beginning, or you've just stumbled upon this story recently, I thank you so, so much for taking the time to read this! Thank you for the ones who supported me all the way (you know who you are) ! I'm really grateful for the wonderful reactions I've received! ♡♡♡

Forget-Me-Not has reached its end; but just as one story ends, another one begins. I hope you look forward to my next replaced mc au!

I give you lots of hugs and wish you the sweetest of dreams whenever you fall asleep.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[bzhitstruth]

Many "gifts" from GG and DD

So much has happened over the past three or four days that I couldn’t even gather my thoughts together to make a post.

Of course, everyone already knows about the cameras Leica, about the number of GG's photos (18-33-28 and 18-25-23), about camping and the cake with sheep, and so on.

I want to write about some moments that especially impressed me, in addition to the main “candies” that fell upon us in abundance. This post will probably turn out to be chaotic, but I am now very impressed by everything, and there are a lot of emotions.

Everything is fake, fiction and my stupid fantasies, don’t pay attention.🤡🤡🤡

“Everything is cute, everything is cool.” We saw the phrase in the post by GG's studio: “Life is bright, everything is cute.” Less than a day has passed (namely 19 hours 50 minutes), and YBO replies: “Everything is cool collected”. And we're reminded of the old LRLG fake material where it was about "ok, you're cool, I'm cute." Can anyone say that this is the coincidence?! This is the real dialogue during short time!

Yesterday DD again showed us many photos with Leica. It would seem, why focus so much attention on it? It's funny that if you leave a comment or repost, the effect with flying small pink cameras appears on Weibo:

It occurred to me to count all the DD's photos from the trip to Paris on Weibo and Instagram (including duplicate of photos), where the camera Leica M11 is present. You won't believe. There are 23 of them. The word “coincidence” already gives me a callus on my tongue.

Yesterday DD stunned everyone with his 100500 photos around the small iron pole. Turtles on Weibo wondered why he paid so much attention to this inconspicuous place. And it turned out that it was not in vain! Of course, this is the street corner with special numbers - 23 rue Bachelet 75018.

And also the red-yellow-green dog, and DD standing proudly against the background of bicycles. When GG traveled abroad in February, there was the episode in his video where he was in front of motorcycles. Such a funny "exchange".

There are also some interesting things in the GG's birthday photos and video. For example, in some photos GG looks strikingly similar to DD. The turtles mostly took notice of this photo. If you close the right half of the face, you get an almost mystical resemblance.

But I also noticed another photo, the first time I saw it, I really thought it was DD. How can this be? It really looks like some kind of magic.

Of course, GG put on the little lion again. It is interesting that it was in this jacket that GG returned from Paris to Beijing in March (Paris again!). And it was in it that he was photographed for his birthday. And this is not the first time that the little lion appears in the GG's birthday photos. By the way, one more interesting detail: it seems that this particular jacket is hanging in the background in the famous GG's photo that captivated everyone:

The phone card case appears again:

Inscription in the sky. In GG’s video at 4:16, a certain effect appears that resembles the legendary “wangxiao” inscription; in one of the BTS of “The Untamed” GG puts his name under DD’s name and then crosses it out in embarrassment. I'm not really sure if this is intentional or just a visual effect and abstraction, but it looks very similar!

The Chinese turtles, at least, were very enthusiastic about this effect (and they are still better versed in written characters than I am). Even if it's not intentional, it looks amazing because it really does look a lot like those signatures.

At the end of GG’s vlog, the phrase appears: “So, did you come up with a name?” (所以, 想好名字了?), this seems to be a reference to the ending of The Untamed when Wei Ying said, "You need to come up with a name for this song":

Another thing that no one seems to have noticed is the DD's Douyin video. Look at the time of publication. This is the screenshot from my phone, I'm in the same time zone as Paris, in Europe. In China at this time it was 16:05. Don't you think that this is another gremlin-DD's trick - to make the post on 5.10 at 10:05, but in Paris time? In my opinion, this is quite in his style.

And a little about personal impressions.

Interesting is the photo where GG is holding the cake with sheep. This is the only photo in his first photoshoot where he is smiling. In the rest of the photos he is thoughtful, even seemingly sad, and in some places stern. Only in this photo does GG have bright and gentle expression on his face, and the special smile, the look in the other photos is completely different, tougher or directed inward of himself. Even the jeans he's wearing don't appear anywhere else except in this photo. It seems to me that this is the special photo, taken by the special person and at a different time. Can be compared with other photos supposedly taken by DD.

This is probably very subjective, but it seems to me that there is some subtle similarity in these photos. Love. Well, I think so.

BJYXSZD 💚❤️.

sources: Weibo.com, Douyin.com

[konigsblog]

whorentia or however it was spelt, literally has in her pinned post about not bullying people for their preferences, being yourself and having fun etc. but orla, when people do that to you, you have to accept it!!!! you can’t block them!!!! they might find something out about you!!! 💀

a reply also said people might just come across your post without realising you were a dark content writer after you literally already said that your posts have warnings. if that’s the case, it would literally be impossible to not know what they’re going to read. people are really trying to grasp at every last thing possible to make you look bad. deep down they know they can just block but for some reason they don’t and they choose to be upset about it. this is why these people have so much hatred, because they’re always so negative and can’t take responsibility of their own content consumption. i always wonder if these people are actually 18+ because the way they act always seems really immature.

honestly it's laughable!! i know exactly WHO they're talking about. because they're all friends, they're following each other. there's three people involved, and a couple names i won't be mentioning because i have a suspicion they may be underage, while one is a confirmed minor. definitely weird how one account made FOUR different accounts to send me a message simply because they couldn't keep their immaturity to themselves, then acted as if i was obsessed, while they probably have a whole group chat dedicated to me by the looks of it, it wouldn't surprise me.

look, people need to realise that you're not owed an explanation for why you're blocked. it was pretty funny to see them not make one singular valid and clear point and then call me immature for blocking them because they were being disrespectful and disregarding my boundaries, while they had made countless comments and accounts to try speak to me. i wasn't surprised they were underage honestly.

they acted as if i got my friends to harass them. i didn't get anyone to respond to them, my friends chose to do it, whether that's because they wanted to support me, or had an opinion they wanted to share themselves. when you post a comment publicly, you have to be prepared for comments, responses, and opinions form other people. if they didn't want to receive responses, then they should've kept their comment to themselves.

and the person you mentioned? yeah, pretty strange how they say you shouldn't judge someone for their preferences, while doing the exact same thing. these people are hypocrites; they don't care if it happens to you, just as long as it isn't them.

and the other person (you know who you are, if you're reading this — which you shouldn't be able to, considering you're blocked, but i assume you keep tabs on people... 🥴😬) they acted as if i blocked them because they asked me questions respectfully. they were respectful in the dms, but began to reblog hate posts about me. don't act oblivious. i mean seriously? what did you expect? when you reblog hate posts about me, agreeing with them in any way, i will 100% block you.

i won't continue talking about these people, and i won't be mentioning their usernames (unless you want to block them yourself, then message me), because again, i have doubts they're actually adults, and can tell one person in particular wants attention BADLY.

[gaydiation-poisoning]

HORRIBLE MESSY IN-NO-PARTICULAR-ORDER AMP BULLETPOINT POST BEFORE SIDE ORDER COMES OUT LETS FUCKING GOOOO

THIS IS AMP ^ (art by @for-a-new-life)

SHE IS MY NEO AGENT 3

Age: 14

Height: 4'8

Full name: Amphitrite Takowasa

°She was born a little less than a year after the events of Splatoon 2 (we have a slightly altered timeline)

°She will BITE you if you call her Amphitrite

°Amp's mother Ashta disappeared when she was about 7 years old, ever since she's been growing up on the streets of Inkopolis alongside her best friend/little brother Sammy.

(pictured here, by @redginaldusrooiakker)

°She does not know her own full name

°She has faint memories of Off The Hook playing on the television when she was little, this inspired her dream of becoming a big time DJ. (cus there's not enough of these Octo DJ bastards running about)

°She made her way to Splatsville at age 13 looking to make it big, although having no money and no home took to crashing on the couch in the Lobby.

°Despite practically living in the Lobby, Amp does not play much Turf War or any other sport. She tends to find them limiting and aggravating, as she's not much of a team player and tends to prefer an aggressive solo charge over working with others. As a result she turns to working at Grizzco for cash.

°She is very reckless on the job, with a tendency to charge in headfirst with a seeming lack of self preservation, most coworkers dislike her for her behavior and think she's a liability. She is, however, effective, and thus Grizz keeps her on and assigns her 'mentors' to keep her focused. (At least until they burn out and she's passed to someone else)

°Mains Octobrush

°After about four months of working for Grizzco, she had a falling out with her favourite mentor and wound up meeting Craig Cuttlefish and joining the Squidbeak Splatoon

°She just wants to feel useful

°Amp has a very casual way of speaking, very rarely using honorifics. Some find this rude, but it's typically a sign that she likes someone a great deal and feels comfortable. She doesn't typically gel well with Authority figures for this reason. (Albeit this is not intentional on her end.)

°She takes to calling Cuttlefish 'Uncle' not long after meeting him.

°Also has very little in the way of a filter with profanity, and tends to cuss a lot when the urge strikes her.

°Very fidgety, tends to chew on wasabi sprouts or tug on her tentacles to keep her mind occupied. Hates sitting still.

°Has very little sense of aim, her method with a splattershot essentially comes down to 'Can't hurt me if you're atomized'

°Almost shoots Octavio after he fell out of the Octobot, Craig had to knock the gun upwards to deflect the shot.

°Prefers baggy clothes

°Will eat anything. Not picky at all.

°Has a love for spicy food, the hotter the better.

°Sometimes eats things with her hands that really should not be eaten with one's hands

°VERY loud for someone her size

°Has no concept of an 'inside voice'

°If you do so much as give her a sandwich she'd probably be willing to die for you.

°Runs very warm

°Very heavy sleeper, can sleep in almost any position.

°The notch in her ear is from a Grizzco Charger by her mentor turned nemesis turned best friend Mono

----

°The scar on her forehead comes from accidentally bashing her forehead against the Octobot's control console during the fight with Grizz

(on that note)

°If you have talked to me about her or simply read her name, you'd probably have figured out that Amp is the granddaughter of DJ Octavio

(This charming fella. Art once again provided by @for-a-new-life)

°Neither of them are aware of this connection until post Splatoon 3's story (although there are a couple AUs where that's not the case)

°Her mother is named Ashta, she is Agent 8 and a Clone of Octavio (if you're wondering why she came out female well the answer is 🏳️‍⚧️)

°Amp's lack of knowledge of or contact with her grandfather comes from her mother's distaste for her father (to put it lightly)

°She looks up to her grandpa a lot, she definitely sees him through rose tinted glasses in her younger years. (Honestly the Takowasa family drama will probably get a reblog dedicated to breaking it down)

°She wouldn't have even been accepted by him if Craig hadn't basically reverse psychology-ed Octavio into actually being a grandpa to her

°Amp is close with Octavio but the relationship is...complicated to say the least

°Despite this she is very determined to upkeep a relationship with him

°When she eventually starts her DJing career, she does so under the stage name of DJ ANG3LFISH, a mix of her title as Agent 3, and of Octavio's occasional nickname for her, Angelfish.

°She keeps up this stage performance until one particularly traumatic performance scares her into silence for a time

°She later comes back onto the music scene in a somewhat fishing themed band called The Reel Deal, with her once again as the DJ, and her friends Mono and now much more grownup Sammy as vocalists.

°Amp would not start singing in their songs until some of their later albums.

°She has a lot of vocal fry which can be very good for their harsher tracks

And finally (for now)

°Amp is a Virgo

(doodle by @redginaldusrooiakker)

(Second part breaking down the Takowasa Family Issues will be out soon!)

EDIT: PART 2 OUT NOW CHECK RBS

[lavenderslace]

more butcher than man ♱ rockstar!eddie munson (reader goes by cady brocks, it’s her middle & last name!)

He'd known you weren't that bright the second he met you at that party in the hills six months ago. And no, he doesn't mean bright in the way you think. You’re smart, so damn smart. He means bright in just the way that you are. You're not a very happy girl.

Anyone who knew your insides could tell. If they’d taken the time to slice you open and personally talk with your organs, they’d know. You repulse at just about everything you do, and it makes him kind of sad. But he doesn't know how to tell you that—tell you that you’re the best and he kind of cares about you. No, he does care about you crazy, he just doesn’t know it yet. It’s so out of character for him, being serious with one girl.

He’s not going to tell you. He definitely won't. He has a reputation to uphold.

He's big bad Eddie fucking Munson.

He's been around the scene since he was twenty two—clawing his way out of Indiana with two guys he called his best friends, he's almost twenty seven now and has just about seen it all and more. At this point, it's like Corroded Coffin is never going to die.

He hopes they won't.

There's five of them now. Gareth, he's grown out his baby face, finally, has gotten ridiculously taller and more lean. Jeff, the tallest of them all, which hadn't been the case back home, his jaw as sharp as butcher knives. And Eddie, he’s everything and everywhere. He’s as quick as those butcher knives. Eddie likes to joke that all the drugs they did made them grow up all big and bad. They’re fucking rockstars.

The ones who didn't come from home, Tatum and Brooks. They're cool guys. Tatum's everyone's fuckin’ heartthrob, him and Eddie's names are always clashing in magazines at who's better with the ladies and occasionally guys. But it's Eddie, only because Tatum's got a chick who's been a soft secret for the last year and a half. They wonder, the media, what Tate's been doing recently. Why he’s been so silent with his night rendezvous that just randomly stopped. He doesn't give a minded fuck, he's keen on making sure the world doesn't dig its nails into Stella. She's a real sweet girl, Eddie knows, she's almost too sweet for Tate. Brooks is a different story, he's as loose as they come. He doesn't pick fights, he plays his music—get his job done, does the drugs, has the girls, and still manages to be at sound check early. Eddie doesn't understand how he does it. Really.

Crystal wishes he'd take some notes from Brooks.

Crystal's a dear. Corroded Coffin's all too dedicated manager, a woman who couldn't have kids and somehow ended up with five too old son's. Eddie loves her, she reminds him of his own before she passed.

But all of that’s besides the point. Right now is about you and how you’re a ticking time bomb he’s been trying to disengage for months now. He likes to think he’s made some progress.

Brooks thinks he’s stupid as fuck for getting caught up in a girl like you. But Eddie’s stop listening to Brooks around year two. So…

You play the guitar in a girl band called Bitten Lace. The names a bit much for you, but you didn’t have a say in it. It’s a four women show, one that makes you feel queasy and really silly. This was a stupid high school thing you guys did for some extra cash to get out of high school and into college; Boston wasn’t fun. But at one particular, silly, wedding—an all too rich man from New York was there and he liked what he saw.

You weren’t ready to pick up and leave, your little sister was six and your mother worked too much at the hospital—and your college essay was almost done. But Mave, a too powerful lead singer was persistent, full of guilt trips and gaslighting. Cady, c’mon! We’d be nothing without you! Don’t do this to us, we need you. With two pleading girls behind her, Trixie and Adina, what were you supposed to do.

You left home, with them.

You weren’t even sure if they really would’ve needed you to get by as a band, but your manger, Summer Lovewell, has said otherwise. You’re good at what you do, even if it’s not what you wanted to do.

It’s why Eddie notices you so quickly the night of that party. Everyone looked more than pleased to be there. Sex on walls and couches and unknown beds. Drugs on skin. Music in ears. It was his scene, his favorite fucking scene.

But staring at you on the balcony by yourself with a sparkling water down by your small kitten heels made his chest feel kind of funny.

Why were you alone?

Of course he knew who you were. You were younger than him and the media loves younger things. You, twenty two and new to fame. Cady fuckin’ Brocks! Beautiful and a little too soft by the media’s words and digs, they were awfully mean to you.

Bitten Lace had popped up like a firework and repeated sending colors to the sky. You guys were fuckin’ good. You were fuckin’ good.

He doesn’t remember what he said to you that night, too coked out. Sometimes, when he simply observes you—he wishes he had been sober that night. He wishes he remembered talking to you. He’s not even really sure how it escalated from there, but now, your like this all too big scarlet secret he’s trying his very hardest to keep away from flashing cameras and attention seeking tabloids.

He knows you, but he wants to know you better.

“Eds. Do you think I look silly in this?” Your voice is soft and your sitting on the hotel floor of Eddie’s room. He’s on tour, again, in Chicago—Bitten Lace happens to be here for press on a new world hit single.

He’s just gotten off of a show, shirtless, jeans a little too big in the waist, black socks, smudge makeup, and a bit of a smell.

He can’t find the wipes to get the glitter and black liner off his face. He’s still a mess. “Silly in what?” He asks with a mumble as he goes through another black book bag. Unlike his band mates, he doesn’t fuck with suitcases. He travels the world with three Jansport book bags that have kissed hell and back about six times. You tease him for them.

“In this..?” Like he’s supposed to know what you’re talking about, he doesn’t even know what you’re looking at—but he let’s you talk. He can’t find the damn wipes— “I don’t know, I didn’t like the shorts. They’re too tiny and the top was even smaller. Like I get it, we have an image, but the image only seems to look decent on Mave. I don’t have strong muscles in my stomach like that.” He hasn’t looked back at you but he gets what you’re talking about now.

He pauses with his bag and looks at you from over his shoulder. Your peering down at Blitz Magazine, Bitten Lace making the cover and a pretty thick section in the pages. The photoshoot for that had been agonizing. Mave’s judging looks to get your shit together and stop tweaking and Adina’s complaining was enough to have you crying in the shower after you’d gotten back to your small apartment. Trixie is much kinder and actually a friend. She’d been pretty silent throughout the whole thing, saying her thank you’s and giving her kind smiles when she needed to. You had tried to follow that method, but it hadn’t stuck.

You guys are big now, a year and a half in and Mave would kill someone if you guys started to slip in relevance. You’re tired and this isn’t what you signed up for in the slightest. But you don’t complain, you send your mother too much or your money, one might think, so she can work less and you call your little sister way too much. It’s really all you can do from here, where ever that is at the time. You don’t get a lot of free time to head back to Boston every now and then and see them. Eddie knows it bothers you. Unlike you, he hates going home and hasn’t been in four years. Hawkins does not need him. Plus, Wayne just likes to chat on the phone. Letters are cool too.

Eddie’s forgotten about the wipes now. His eyes on you as your fingers drag over the photos of the magazine. He hadn’t even been aware you were going to be in it, you hadn’t told him, of course you hadn’t. Brooks had, smacking the article into his chest after the show an hour ago—check out your chick, Munson. Goddamn. It had been moments before you arrived. He hadn’t even been able to look at it yet or give Brooks shit for his foxy words and tone.

He’s standing before you and looking down at the page, he spots you instantly. You are in tiny clothing. You’ve got white and tan cowboy boots on, small-small denim shorts that are tight in the waist and loose around your thighs. There’s a silver chain around your left thigh with a heart charm, it’s cute, Eddie thinks. Your shirt is indeed even tinier than the shorts, tight to your skin and flattering. It’s knitted and triangle shaped around your breast. It’s a nice tank top. You’ve got jewelry everywhere, much more than he’s ever seen you wear. Your hairs blown out and looks lighter—has your hair gotten lighter? He hasn’t seen you in almost two months, this shoot was almost a month ago.. His eyes drag to your hair now, pulled back in a very loose ponytail, you’ve got strands falling and framing your face. Your hair does look lighter. He wonders why you hadn’t brought it up? He kind of wants to kiss you.

“You look killer,” he says softly. He means it.

Your eyes flicker up to his, your chin now aimed up at him. You look so clean. Your lips are parted. “Seriously?”

Eddie smiles and sticks his hand out for you, you take it instantly as he yanks you up too aggressively. You slouch into his chest a little as he leans down to snatch up the magazine. He has a hand still on your arm and the other is holding up the pages. “I think the outfit is fuckin’ cool.” And he’s not just saying that too make you feel better, he really does means it. You look good and it’s all flattering, despite how you see yourself.

“Are you yanking my hair?” Eddie rolls his eyes at your weird phrases and drops the magazine on his made bed. “No. I am not yanking your hair. You look hot, killer.”

Your rolling your eyes now, shoving away from him as your cheeks go all red. He beams like a schoolboy at your sweet reaction.

You’re a slice of heaven.

You slouch into his bed, the sheets creasing under you. Your face is lined with his waist now. You lean forward and let your head meet his bare lower abdomen. It flexes for a second before a hand of his gently cups the crown of your head. “The wipes are by your first bag, by the way. You’ve missed them twice now.”

Eddie scoffs and laugh a little mean, he messes your hair. It is lighter. They’ve add more highlights to you. “You’re so mean.” He says as he pulls away from you to get the wipes, sticking out from under his first bag.

You smile and slide back onto his bed. “I’ll make it up to you and take off the glitter for you, rockstar.”

Eddie smiles, it’s faint and he’s glad you don’t see it. Not very metal of him. “Deal.”

[corneille-but-not-the-author]

Elusive feeling of home

I know what a home is. Four walls, sometimes more, enough space to sleep and store food for when winter comes. Sometimes there is a roof over you, not always.

I've never understood why Salem said we left home with such a tone.

Homes are along the way. There is no need to be so sad about leaving one.

At first I thought it was because we had no money. With a child to care for, it could've been a problem, and I first proposed to do some prostitution. Tybalt wouldn't let me, I wouldn't let him, we settled on something else.

Fights.

Now, home is a room in a small tavern inside the Esnothi capital. I don't remember it's name, nor I intend to. We are sharing a room with Ara, for the time being.

Soon we'll have to leave. We've all wanted to leave, for a very long time. Fly Esnoth and go to the next place, the next home.

So why does it feel so strange, the thought of living this particular building ?

I don't want to do that.

It cries. Little mutt, haven't you had enough to eat ? Little sheep, when will you sleep ? I'm exhausted and this evening another fight will take place.

Another fight I have to win.

I wonder if Canopus will be there.

Is this why I don't want to leave this place ? Because of him ? Even though he's a bastard and an idiot, I kind of like seeing him challenge me every night. He makes up for a good warming up before more real fights.

Is it because we claimed this place as our territory ? Ridiculous. In that case, i would've been sad to leave "Home" just like Salem did.

Tybalt enters the room, looks at me with a strange face.

"You're still so hard to read." he says, and i don't understand why.

Is it something with my face ? I try my hardest to express and convey emotions, but it always seems to not be enough.

"We are leaving soon, Valentina", he mutters.

I stay silent for a few seconds, look at it, the tiny mutt, the slug that has never wanted to left me. Talk about Inkan Syndrome.

My eyes raise themselves to meet Tybalt's gaze. He seems sad. Does he thinks about never seeing this particular home again ?

Why ?

Why am I sad too ?

These are juste four walls and a bed.

I don't want him to be sad. I don't want any of them to be sad.

We need a place we'll never leave. Never abandon. A place where we could stay and still be on the move, because we can never stay in one place for too long. We need something that moves around.

"We need a boat."

The look on Tybalt's face is priceless.

[slytherinwolf-16]

Zenipapa au

Acquired Children part 2

To his surprise, they hadn't been up during the night, at least not that he knew of, but how sneaky can a bunch of little kids really be? It takes his sleep addled brain a moment to realise that a baby is screaming, as well as another kid, when he properly wakes up.

He'd swear high and low that was the fastest he's ever gone from asleep to wide awake in his life. The scene was not what he was expecting though. Goemon was laying on the couch on his back, kicking and crying, with Jigen trying to calm him down while pinching his nose shut, the newsboy cap he's wearing covering his eyes. Lupin was off in the little kitchen, sitting on the counter with his hands over his ears and Fujiko was on the carpet, hands over her ears and kicking and screaming to high hell and back.

Going over, he realised he forgot that a 6 month old would still be in diapers and the smell was atrocious. Jigen looked at him when he walked over and moved to go quiet Fujiko down instead.

"How do you change a diaper?" Zenigata wondered out loud, to no one in particular. Jigen rolled his eyes before glaring at Zeni from under his hat, "How am I supposed to know?! You're the adult!"

It took a very embarrassing call to his mother and sacrificing one of his old bath towels but eventually he managed a change. That was that problem solved, and since the baby stopped crying, Fujiko stopped screaming. Apparently she didn't like loud noises, he noted.

A clang from the small kitchen made him remember he'd left a little pickpocket alone on a counter, so he dashed over there to see if he'd fallen. Luckily that wasn't the case, but Lupin had managed to climb into a cupboard and knock down a pan in the process. He was happily chewing on some crackers straight out of a box, while Zeni tried to figure out how the hell the kid had gotten that high. Some stacked pots and open drawers were his answer and he had to wonder if Lupin had to go searching for his food wherever he lived before.

It didn't matter at the moment, Zeni reached up and pulled the kid out his cupboard, not bothering to take the crackers away. At least he was eating.

"Why don't you share those with the others," He suggested and little Lupin runs over to the couch to hold the box out for Jigen and Fujiko.

Jigen took some crackers and seemed fine with that, but Fujiko stuck her nose in the air and stomped her foot. "What, don't like crackers? C'mon, they're good!" Lupin says, wagging the box in front of her face. She pouted for a few more seconds before grabbing a handful and starting to eat as well.

And Zeni thought he'd have a problem there for a second. To his surprise, little Goemon was also chewing on a cracker, albeit making a big mess of crumbs but that solved the problem of what he was gonna feed them.

A call from the Department made it clear the four were Zeni's problem until further notice, so he didn't need to worry about going to work for another couple days.

He turned around to see Fujiko had his hat again and was running around with it like it was a crown or something. Lupin was running after her and it took Zeni a moment to realise they were just playing some sort of game.

Jigen was currently trying to burp Goemon, but the baby was more interested in pulling the boy's hair rather than cooperating with him. His hair was shaggy in length at best, down to his shoulders, making for an easy target to grab.

With it feeling like chaos, Zeni picked up the landline and called his mother again, asking her to come over and if she felt like going shopping. These kids were gonna stay a while, so he might as well get them a change of clothes and maybe proper diapers for the baby. Thankfully his mother agreed, so now he just had to wait for her to arrive.

Lupin had caught Fujiko and was now swinging her around haphazardly. "Careful!" Zeni called over to them. Kids were one thing to deal with, injured kids were not something he was prepared for yet.

In the hour it took his mother to get there, he learned several things about the four.

1, that Goemon does not like it when Zenigata holds him. Jigen is allowed to do so and Lupin is sometimes allowed to, but only when he sits still.

2, Lupin does not sit still. He climbs on the furniture, the windows and everything else. He'd managed to get the grate off the vents and climb in there, much to just give Zenigata a heart attack and ten minutes later, he was out the window and running up and down the emergency escape stairs. Zenigata had to wrestle him back into the apartment and figure out a way to keep the window shut.

3, that Fujiko thought she was in charge. She was giving orders to the two boys and Zeni, whether they listened or not, and would throw a tantrum if she wasn't getting enough attention. Fujiko also had a colourful vocabulary that she likely learned from being raised in a brothel. 4, Jigen didn't do much of anything for himself. He kept Goemon happy and tried to shut Fujiko up when she screamed, looking like he was expecting to be yelled at for the noise and once he noticed Zenigata was keeping Lupin inside and off the counters, he started trying to keep the four year old in one room, once even bodily wrestling with Lupin, until he tired him out enough for the hyperactive kid to actually take a nap right there on the carpet.

Zenigata was about to start pulling his hair out when there was a gentle knock at the front door. Immediately the chaos changed, Fujiko sped off into the bathroom to hide, Lupin jumped behind the couch and Jigen grabbed Goemon and ducked into the bedroom. He wasn't sure why they were seemingly trained to hide their presence, but he'd figure it out later. For now, he needed to explain the situation to his mother.

It took a while to explain the situation to his mother, but she eventually understood. Zeni was just starting to get worried because of how quiet the four were being, when a high pitched scream pierced the air from the bathroom.

A moment later Fujiko runs out, tiny hands tucked to her chest and running towards Jigen and Goemon, who are still in his room. "What, what what?!" Jigen grumps, going to check the bathroom, Goemon on his hip. "Oh for-" he stops himself, shakes his head and pops back out of the bathroom, "It's just a cockroach".

Zenigata isn't sure he's ever heard such exasperation from a kid that young before. Goemon had somehow picked the roach up and he and Jigen were taking pleasure in chasing Fujiko around with it, Goemon laughing the whole time. She ducked behind the couch where Lupin was for a moment, then screamed again and ran towards Zenigata. "What now?" Jigen asked.

Lupin popped out holding a rat in both his hands, "I made a friend!" Jigen seemed amused, judging by the lopsided smile on his face, and then had to stop Goemon from stuffing the roach in his mouth.

Zenigata picked Fujiko up and she hid her face in his shirt. "The boys mean!" She said, sounding every bit the toddler she was. Zenigata looked towards his mother for help, who was sitting with a hand covering her mouth to try and not laugh at the chaos that was happening.

[romance-of-three-memes]

I know talking about the war in Ukraine has fallen out of the regular new cycle in many parts of the world so talking about it isn't vogue anymore, but anyway if you've ever wondered why Russia wants Crimea *so badly*, it can be broken down into three primary reasons.

1. It provides those sweet, sweet warm water ports Russia is always dying to have since it opens up a lot more commerce options, and with the way Russia's been doing economically, it needs all the help it can get, but unfortunately due to uhhh history, most everyone else is unwilling to help. Many of its neighbors in particular have been getting bullied by it for centuries, and when your bully comes up and asks to borrow a coat because it's cold, you're probably not going to be inclined to hand it over. That, plus Russia is often too proud to ask for help anyway.

2. It offers a nice little foothold into Ukraine, which we've seen them take advantage of.

3. What's most relevant to the general interests of this blog, the fact that Crimea is a defender's wet dream. It's a textbook case of just about everything you could possibly want, it's a peninsula connected to the continent by one small isthmus that at most is three or four miles wide (or about five to seven kilometers). That isthmus is marred by lagoons, and the terrain often changes significantly with the tide, which goes from low to high and vice versa approximately every six hours. It's a perfect choke point. There are a couple of major bridges connecting it to other parts of the continent, but those can easily be guarded or sabotaged. Moreover, Crimea also has some pretty steep mountain ranges, so if you were smart enough to make sure they were under control, you'd have the high ground, especially since so much of the rest of Crimea is pretty flat. It has a ton of rivers acting as natural barriers to either keep the enemy at bay or slow them down if you have to retreat.

Likewise, Crimea is a nightmare for invaders. Sure, they could attack via air or sea, but that's much more expensive and logistically nightmarish than just having your guys march or drive across dry land, and that mostly necessitates having had a really good navy or airforce to begin with. The most 'reliable' strategy is also one of the worst case scenarios for just about any military force, having to throw people into that choke point and cross your fingers hoping that if you throw enough people hard enough for long enough, eventually they'll make headway. This is an incredibly costly strategy, for Crimea in particular just about every successful invasion with somewhat accurate stats count tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands of deaths often spread out over months, the majority of those being on the invader's side.

'If Crimea is so great for whoever's occupying it then why did Russia take it so easily in 2014?'

A few reasons, largely because they'd been planning ahead for a long time. In the 1940s the Tatars who inhabited Crimea were forcefully removed and it was resettled by ethnic Russians, many of whom continued to be loyal to Russia even when Crimea was made part of Ukraine. A lot of the guys in the military had also been there since the soviet days and felt some sense of loyalty for that, and they happily defected due to that loyalty (or because they knew they were on the losing side and wanted to save their own skin). Basically the population was preemptively primed to not resist because Russia coming along and taking over was seen as a good thing by many of them. The state of the Ukranian military also didn't put them in much of a place to put up a fight, and even the few who tried were quickly handled by the Russian military. So that was a process at least seven decades in the making, but it sure did work out for them, unfortunately.

[santalsaburablog]

The adventures of Santal. Chapter 19: The First Mission

Sometimes it's harder to accept help than to offer it.

A suspicious incident! The esteemed Chancellor of the Republic invited Santal Saboura to a tea party! And then he went down to the lower levels of Coruscant with her in order to see if she could be used for his own purposes. However, everything did not go according to plan. After a while, Master Mace Windu approaches Santal, wanting to ask a question...

"What kind of question?" Santal asked, looking up.

"Who are you?" The magister asked.

Santal found the question very strange.

"Doesn't he know my name?" she wondered. And then I thought that this was probably a philosophical question. And she replied:

— I'm Santal Sabura. A ten-year-old girl. Yunling. Originally from Ryloth. I'm studying in the Dragon Clan.

"Go on."

"A man." I do not know what else to say.

"You're not a Yongling anymore. Santal felt a chill in her stomach. Had he found out about the outing with the chancellor at the club? "You're my padawan now." The Council agreed.

Today, but a little earlier

On that day, the supervisors of the younglings submitted reports on their groups. When it was Terah Sainube's turn, he showed up at the appointed time and said:

— So, I am glad to inform you that almost everyone has passed the tests. I would especially like to highlight Green Pine, Landa Selmura, Max Navarre and Santal Sabura.

— Are you implying that...

— They are quite ready. I have complete confidence in them. Of the entire group, these four are the most prepared, both physically and spiritually. As their supervisor, I can assure you that although they don't know much, I have nothing to teach them.

Then the members of the Council began to think who should be given which teacher. The discussion dragged on for a long time. Choosing a teacher is not as easy as it seems. Too much depends. Teachers and students converged for different reasons. Sometimes a teacher might spot a potential student at a Padawan Tournament. Sometimes the teacher, wanting to find a pupil, asked his colleagues if there was a suitable one in mind. And sometimes the fate of the master and padawan brought together from early childhood.

But still, it was a Jedi Order that listened to the personal opinions of the knights. So, if a teacher chose a student, no one had the right to refuse him. Only as a last resort. Conversely, a student could either accept or reject an offer to become a padawan of a particular Jedi.

"I feel in the Force that the time has come for Santal Sabura," Yoda said, closing his eyes. — It's time for her to move on to the next stage. Follow the path as a padawan.

— Do you have any suggestions who might be a worthy teacher for her, Master Yoda? Ki-Adi Mundi asked.

"Don't forget that she might be... chosen,— Seshi Tiin reminded her. — So, it's worth taking this issue as seriously as possible.

"As far as I know," Plo Kun said, "there haven't been any problems with her lately.

—That's right,— Mace Windu agreed. — In this regard, she is much better than Skywalker.

"Nevertheless," Mundi added, "I must remind you that she was also noticed for serious violations.

"You mean her escape after Master Dooku?" Korun asked.

— Not only that. But of all her misdeeds, this is the most serious.

— That's why it's so important that the incident doesn't happen again. This girl definitely has a lot of potential that needs to be developed. She needs a strong and experienced teacher who will guide her and keep her in line.

"In that case, I'll be her teacher." Mace Windu stood up from his chair. — Who agrees?

As a rule, if a teacher wanted to take on a student, then no one could refuse him. So in this case, no one objected. The decision was approved unanimously.

—And now let's get to the point,— said Seshi Tiin.

A hologram of the planet was activated in the room.

"A high—frequency signal was received from the planet Nazuus last night. Anonymous message. Here, listen to this.

The Jedi pressed a button, and a quiet male voice rang out in the room. "Hello. Excuse me... I... don't know.... How can I say... I really need your help. I can't tell you everything, but on the planet Nazuus, everything is not as you think. This is not a heavenly planet! That's a lie! Anyway, I can't say everything... I'm being watched. Oh, what is it?!"

Then a startled cry was heard. The recording stopped. The Jedi Council sat in silence for a while, apparently considering what they had heard.

— I feel despair and fear. We have to find out the whole truth," Yoda was the first to leave.

— I agree. That's why I'm going to this planet," Windu said.

— It's dangerous to fly alone. Take the Jedi who are free with you. Help would not be superfluous. And take your padawan with you.

—Magister, won't it be dangerous?" This is her first mission. And we don't know for sure what to expect on Nazuus.

"Don't worry. My Padawan will always be with me. If anything goes wrong, I will contact you immediately.

"Have it your way, Magister.

present time

"Padawan?" Santal couldn't believe her ears.

- yes.

—I... don't know what to say."

The girl did not expect this. No, she was sure that sooner or later this day would come. But for now... At a time like this... And this time, she didn't choose the teacher, but he chose her. He made the decision himself. And her right is to submit. Santal somehow doubted that she could refuse. Maybe he'll miss the chance. Moreover, Mace Windu is a member of the Council with training experience, and she also heard that he was friends with Master Dooku.

Apparently, the magister thought about the same thing and said:

"Well, from now on, I'm your teacher, and you're my student.

—I'm very glad,— Santal said, deciding that she needed to say something, too.

— Now get to the point. We have a mission.

Another surprise. Right away and into the thick of it. Mace Windu briefly explained to Santal what was going on. They have to fly to a distant planet to find out what happened. A signal for help was received.

It was decided to leave immediately. The newly minted teacher and student went to the Temple intendant, who gave them all the necessary equipment and equipment for all occasions.

Santal remembered from her lessons what every Jedi should always have with them. But it was useful to refresh my memory. For the trip, the girl chose a special backpack, where she put everything. She also received her first auxiliary belt, which included a comlink, grappling hook, breathing apparatus, portable holoprojector, holocards, A99, and a beacon transceiver. Also, a lightsaber, food rations in the form of capsules, a glowing wand or flashlight, and tools for repairing lightsabers were considered indispensable in any mission.

On top of that, Santal ran into her room before the mission. She attached a lightsaber created by her own hands to the left. Excited about her first task, the girl activated it, admiring the turquoise glowing blade. How beautiful he is! Looking at it, the girl remembered that she also has a memorable kayber crystal. A parting gift from Master Dooku.

Santal opened the desk drawer and pulled it out, carefully locked with a key in the casket. Tears welled up in her eyes. After looking at it for about five minutes, the girl decided to take it with her and put it in her pocket. Let it be her mascot. Until another sword is created. But it won't be soon.

Then she remembered about the hat she had bought, pulled it out from under the bed and put it on. The Jedi were forbidden to own anything special, so she decided to hide it just in case after the purchase. But now, while you have a minute, you can admire your reflection in the mirror.

The girl mentally digested her new status. Padawan Santal Sabura. It sounds more impressive. But she didn't feel like she was taller or more mature yet. Nothing has changed. But, apparently, everything will change after the first mission. Santal was nervous. She hadn't participated in missions before. The very word "mission" says that this is something important. But on the other hand, she has a teacher by her side who will protect her from everything.

Moreover, unlike other Younglings, she managed to visit some planets. No experience at all.

Santal automatically put her hat in her backpack and hurried to the teacher.

"I hope that the life of a padawan will teach you punctuality,— the teacher said sternly.

The girl was scared. Am I really too late?

"Come on."

Mace Windu led Santal to a hangar where there were various transport ships, starships, interceptors, and stopped near an ordinary shuttle.

— Since there are no flights to Nazuus, pilots hardly fly there, so we will fly there ourselves.

The teacher took the helm, and Santal sat next to him. The shuttle smoothly took off like a bird and flew forward.

It was going to be a long flight. After all, the two Jedi had to travel to the territory bordering the Outer Rim and Unexplored Regions. But everything is fine as long as there is hyperspace. That's what Windu did.

With a few hours left before boarding, Santal decided to study all the available information about Jesus and meditate to calm her thoughts. But if Santal coped with the first task perfectly, then with the second one she got a maximum of three.

The girl didn't stop being nervous. Not only because for the first time in so many years she flew to another planet legally and accompanied by an adult Jedi, but also because of that anonymous message. From the very beginning of the mission, she had a feeling of foreboding. She kept thinking that something was going to happen, something bad.

Strangely enough, the landing went smoothly. The Jedi ship landed without any problems. Santal was about to run out when the teacher stopped her.

— You can't just run out to a new planet. It's indecent. And dangerous, too. It was not uncommon for a ship to be blown up upon landing. Therefore, it is necessary to go out calmly, but not skipping or running. This way you'll attract less attention from outsiders. And don't let your guard down.

Santal slowly stepped off the ramp onto solid ground, not forgetting to look around. The planet they landed on turned out to be quite beautiful, but at the same time quite strange.

The first thing that caught the girl's eye was the outlandish structures in the form of cubes. And, apparently, they were made of transparent glass. Santal could clearly see the reflection of the outside world in the wall. Tearing her gaze away from him, the padawan scanned the surroundings. There was a kind of pond near the cube. And to his left is a sheer cliff.

It was only now that Santal noticed that they had not landed on the landing pad. Why was this done? Apparently, the teacher thought it would be better this way. And the girl is not used to arguing.

Santal turned her attention to the pond. There were a few greens floating in the water, but overall it was clean. At least that's what Santal thought. Although it was difficult to judge because of the fog that lay a meter above the ground.

"Teacher, what are we going to do?" Santal raised her head, looking hopefully at the teacher.

"Listen to me carefully, Padawan. Mace Windu got down on one knee in front of the girl. — I have no confidence in this planet. Like yours, for sure, too. Although some members of the Council were very skeptical about the anonymous message, I feel that it is not worth ignoring it. Now we're going to look for the locals. Anyone we meet can help us get to the truth. We will be very lucky if we can do this quickly. Forward.

The two Jedi set off. Santal huddled close to her mentor all the way, looking around every five minutes. It was too scary for her to walk through unfamiliar terrain. And in a blue-tinted fog. It won't take long to get lost.

The girl shivered. Well, no way. She's already been lost once. Enough. She sincerely hoped that the mission would go more or less smoothly, without stupid adventures.

Santal had a desire to take the teacher's hand more than once to make it easier. But she didn't dare. After all, Master Windu is strict. He is a lifelong member of the Council for a reason. And Korun must have sensed her excitement, since he decided to break the silence.:

— Tell me, did you study the information about Nazuus before we arrived?

- yes. But, unfortunately, there is very little information there.

"That's not surprising. The planet is located practically on the territory of the Republic, but its inhabitants keep to themselves. The anonymous message we received is their first contact in the last hundred years. There is a danger that this is a trap or a trap. But it's still very strange. And our goal is intelligence. Therefore, you should not attract attention to yourself.

After the briefing, Santal began to understand the situation better. Their task is to understand why the signal was sent. And in general, get fresh information about this mysterious planet. Well, this is her first mission. She'll do her best.

Thank the Force, the city was two kilometers away from their ship. The girl walked and was amazed at the sudden change in the landscape. There was just a natural landscape, and everything changed to a city. Nothing to do with Coruscant. It was completely covered with tall buildings, and nature was only in parks, but here it was just a vivid contrast. Although this is only her first mission, and who knows what outlandish worlds still await her in the future.

The teacher and the student entered the city, and Santal was immediately taken by the hand.

"I hope you won't get lost this time,— Master Windu said. "Otherwise, it'll be harder to find you this time."

The girl herself was glad not to leave the elder Jedi and even involuntarily snuggled closer to him. She was scared. And not because the city was scary, no. An ordinary city. Except that there are cubes everywhere, as if made of glass. Although, no, there were normal houses in the distance, more similar to Coruscant. First of all, Santal was afraid of the fact that the streets were completely empty. The city seemed to have died out. Although... maybe it's because they arrived at night, which means the residents are asleep.

— What are we going to do, Teacher? "What is it?" the girl asked.

— We need to find a place to stay.

Santal thought that the teacher would decide to find a hotel, but he decided to return to the ship. The man turned around and suddenly stopped dead, causing the girl to bump into his back. A girl stood in the middle of the road with her feet shoulder-width apart and her arms at her sides. She was dressed in a gray nondescript suit, had pale skin with a bluish tinge and very short black hair. Only the presence of breasts and a waist gave her away as a female being.

The girl was silent, her lips were compressed, and her light gray eyes expressed nothing, and this scared Santal off. The mysterious stranger walked straight towards them. The girl squeezed the teacher's hand harder, feeling the calmness in the Force in response. Like, don't panic, we still need to figure out who she is and what she is like.

Coming closer, the girl spoke in a slightly mechanical voice, which only made the horror worse.:

— Hello. My name is Vajunvi. I have been instructed to show the newly arrived guests to the Campus. As I understand it, you are. Please introduce yourself.

"My name is Mace Windu, and this is my padawan Santal Sabura. We represent the Jedi Order.

— Name the purpose of the visit.

— Did you say "newly arrived guests"? Did you know we were coming?

— Name the purpose of the visit.

— Establishing diplomatic contacts. Recently, your planet has become isolated from the entire galaxy.

"Everything is safe on Nazusa. Everything is for the common good. Security is a good thing. Come on, I'll give you a tour. And then I'll show you the house where you're staying.

Junwi led the Jedi to an unusual object. Also made of glass. And he was on wheels. It looks like everything here was made of this stuff.

During the trip, the woman was not silent for almost a minute. All attempts to tactfully interrupt her or change the subject of the conversation ended in failure. During the trip, Santal began to think even more that this woman was a robot.

At first, the girl honestly tried to listen with interest, but it quickly faded away when it became clear that her story, like the man, consisted of sixty percent water, and the lady was saying about the same thing.:

— Our planet has two main zones: the Green Wilderness and the Single City-State in which we live. It is through its streets that we are driving now. I'll show you everything. Cubes surround you on the left and right. These are homes for the simplest people, whom we call "ides". They made it out of Altrazanian glass, which is manufactured by the Altra Zanna company. The largest and only one on the planet. She makes everything here: furniture, dishes, houses. It was founded by our Benefactor. And

it was built by two hundred thousand ides.

— Why do you have such a shape at home? Santal asked, leaning forward.

The teacher looked at her. However, Junwi was not at all embarrassed and replied:

— That's what our Benefactor decided. The ruler of our State. He believes that houses should be ideal for all residents.

— But the houses here are different. For example, I see high...

— These are specialized buildings. In general, our city is divided into three main districts. There are additional ones, but I'll tell you about them later. So, the first district that we passed through is a Residential Area. The second district is the Educational and Consumer Zone, where all the important buildings are located. Shops, schools, universities, and more. They were made by order of our Benefactor. A hundred thousand Ides built them. Look, this is one of the tallest buildings on the planet — the Museum of Antiquity. It contains exhibits from the entire history of the planet! It took almost a hundred years to build it! It was made by order of our Benefactor. And finally, the third district is the State District, where the most important residents live. Including the Benefactor's House. But we're not going there.

- why?

— The Benefactor's house is closed to the public. Illegal entry into its territory is punishable by law. Now we will return to the first district, where I will show you where you will stay. I must warn you that men and women live separately in our country.

"She's my student. And it will be easier for us....

— Men and women live separately, regardless of their social roles.

I had to give in. Santal only hoped that she would not be placed too far from the teacher. But her hopes were poorly realized. She was moved out a few blocks away.

— I hope you like the accommodation.

— Yes, the house is quite cozy and spacious. Please tell me, can we talk to your Benefactor?

— Unfortunately, you can't just see the Benefactor. He's very busy. His task is to manage the best City in the world. Thanks to him, there is order and tranquility everywhere. Now get some rest. You must be tired from the journey. It's not breakfast time yet.

The teacher thought for a while and asked:

"Don't worry, Vajunvi. We are not tired. It will be much more useful for us to walk around the neighborhood. So we'd better explore the city.

— I will be happy to accompany you wherever you go.

— I dare to object. In this case, we will do without an accompanying person.

— Strangers on our planet are strictly forbidden to walk alone. Besides, I won't bother you. I just don't want to be a bad guide. What do you want to see?

Santal couldn't stand it and yawned. To tell the truth, she was already tired and she wanted to sleep. And Junwi noticed it and turned to Mace.:

— Maybe you'll rest after all? In the meantime, I'll show you your house. And then you can go to breakfast. The woman led the magister on.

So Santal was left alone. At the cube house. She felt creepy again, even more so than when she was with the teacher. Having no alternative and not wanting to get lost, she went into the house. She wanted to take a nap, but then she remembered what she was taught: first you need to study everything and look around. The importance often lies in the little things. Even a minor detail can give a clue. That's what she decided to do.

The house turned out to be unusual. Rather, relatively unusual. It reminded her of her room in the Temple. Here, too, only what is needed, and nothing superfluous. But there were differences. And the first thing that caught my eye was that everything was made of glass. Walls, floor, furniture. All. And that made the girl uncomfortable. The city was visible through the wall. On the one hand, this is good. You can study urban life from the comfort of your home. But on the other hand... you're in the palm of your hand. Everyone can see what you're doing. At least that's what Santal thought. If that's the case...

Going to the window, the girl noticed the curtains. Great, I can cover myself up somehow. Santal then went to the bed and sat on it. That's not very gentle. Although a Jedi's bed is not an airy cloud either. But it's still better at home.

The girl yawned and lay down. She couldn't find a blanket, but she didn't really need one. The climate was more or less warm.

Santal was very tired and finally decided to sleep for a couple of hours. She hoped that nothing would happen during this time, and if it did, the teacher would call her and warn her. Precisely! I need to get a comlink.

Rummaging in her backpack, the girl found what she was looking for, and lay down again, curled up in a ball, putting the communication device next to her and closing her eyes.

But I couldn't get enough sleep. Not only because of the bed, but also because the girl was nervous all the time. The feeling of danger did not leave her.

It seemed to Santal that about ten minutes had passed, and she jumped up. There was silence all around. Inside, everything went cold, shrunk.

The next second, there was a loud sound. The girl jumped in surprise. The sound was repeated. Bammm... Bammm... Bammm... the sound was quite ominous, cold, so Santal did not immediately realize that it was a watch. They beat systematically, creating a monotonous rhythm. The blows reverberated throughout the room, filling it with anxious anticipation. With each new blow, the tension increased, and the sense of danger became more tangible.

The clock struck seven. Immediately, a huge number of Nazuussians poured out of the houses. Santal was amazed at how much everyone was... the same. The same clothes. The same hairstyles, or rather the complete absence of them in men and very short, combed back without bangs, hair in women. Looking more closely, she noticed that all the residents were leaving their houses one at a time. It turns out that no one lives in houses in twos or threes?

Santal felt like she was about to burst. She was bursting with curiosity. She really wanted to talk to the teacher. The girl took the comlink and dialed the number. Fortunately, the teacher answered right away.:

"Padawan, how are you?"

— Oh, Teacher, I have so much to say!..

"Not here. I'll meet you outside at the following coordinates.

The teacher named the numbers. The girl took her things and ran to the right place. They were already waiting for her there. Mace Windu took the girl away from the residents and asked:

— So, what do you think about this planet?

— Everything is very strange. I have so many questions. What is this Junwi? Why is she acting like this? Why are houses transparent...

—Patience, Padawan. If you want to find answers, you need to be able to listen, see clearly, and keep emotions under control. Learn to observe. Sometimes the answer lies on the surface, sometimes you have to wade through a web of deception or distractions to see it.

"What are we going to do, Teacher?"

"As difficult as it may sound, we're going to have to split up. You try to clarify the situation among the children, and I will clarify it among the adults.

"But you said...

—I know,— the teacher interrupted. — But sometimes plans have to be changed. So, I'm absolutely sure that the guide was sent to us so that we wouldn't see what we shouldn't see. She's also obviously hiding something. Our task...

— Oh, you've already packed. How glad I am! — Junwi appeared literally out of nowhere.

—Yes, we decided to take a walk," Mace Windu, although annoyed, did not show it.

— I will be happy to accompany you anywhere. The girl bowed slightly.

"And your planet is very hospitable," Santal decided that such a phrase would be appropriate.

A wide smile spread across the guide's face. It was obvious that she was absolutely delighted. — We offer guests the highest level of service. So, first of all, would you like to eat? There's a canteen just nearby.

— Well, we won't refuse.

Junwi led the Jedi into a gray one-story building. It immediately became clear that children were eating separately from adults. The teacher and the student had to split up. Santal didn't like the idea very much, but finally the teacher gave her hand a little squeeze, which had a comlink on it. A little encouraged, the girl went to the table where children about her age were sitting. As it seemed to her.

I wonder how to get food here? Santal watched. It looks like the algorithm is the same as in the Temple. Is there a queue of children moving their trays along the serving line? But the Nazuusa canteen couldn't boast of a variety of food. Unlike the temple. On this planet, food fell out of the pipe, rumbling, and landed in small cubes on a plate. Solid geometric shapes! And the food itself is strange. It's not clear what it is. The color is also so nasty. Gray-dirty brown. What's going on? But everyone ate and didn't choke. Of course, they got used to it. Maybe it doesn't taste so bad?

When Santal sat down at the table, having received her portion, she picked up a piece with a spoon and put it in her mouth. And instantly regretted it. God forbid anyone should experience such disgust as the girl experienced! Ignoring the people around her, Santal spat back onto her plate. Only it didn't help much, because the sensation on my tongue remained.

We urgently need to eat something else to kill. But what? Santal packed a couple of candy bars, protein capsules, and, of course, water. But all of the above, as luck would have it, remained in the backpack in the cubic house. What should I do? Maybe we should wait until it passes by itself? I guess I'll have to. Or...

Santal gently patted her neighbor on the shoulder. — And here, besides... this, they don't give you anything else?

"Aren't you from around here?" — the boy asked in surprise and quietly, as it turned out.

With their clean-shaven heads and unformed bodies, it was very difficult to tell who was a boy and who was a girl.

Santal's neighbor carefully studied the girl from bottom to top and said, "Well, definitely not a local."

The other children also began to exchange glances. Apparently, they heard and became curious.

— Breakfast is over. It's time for class," a mechanical voice said.

A large gray droid with human proportions approached the table. Instead of eyes, there is a screen, instead of a mouth, there is a sound wave on the screen.

The children stood up in silence, formed up in pairs and headed, probably, to school. Santal tried to leave, but an iron hand suddenly grabbed her.

—Stand still. You have classes right now. Go to the classroom.

—P-p-wait... There must be some mistake. I'm not a schoolgirl. I'm a guest. My teacher and I have a mission...

— Don't try to deceive, — some kind of tip with a taser came out of the side of the droid and shot the girl. It didn't hurt much, but it was unpleasant. Santal hissed.

The girl tried to pull away once more, but the grip turned out to be literally iron. Then she looked at the children who were looking at her pityingly. And suddenly she had an idea. She stopped resisting and the droid paired her with the boy she was trying to find out about the food. This time, she noticed that he had a gold plaque on his shirt, about opposite his heart, with a set of numbers and the letter: L-69543609845. The girl was surprised, but there was no time to find out.

As the procession of children with the droid at their tail moved towards what appeared to be the school, Santal felt extremely uncomfortable, as if she was trapped in a box and the walls were shrinking by the second. She felt like she was being hammered into a coffin and nails were being driven in. With every step she took, she moved further away from the teacher. She's all alone. There's no one else to count on, and who knows if she'll be able to complete her mission. But they hope for her.

***

The Jedi ship stood unattended against the backdrop of nature. That's who wasn't afraid to stand alone far from the city. But is it just one?..

Burn! Someone flashed through the trees like lightning. Burn! A shadow passed by the stone mountain. Another shadow, another...

A hand in a black and blue glove rested on the raised ramp and began to feel how to open the entrance. Finally, the ramp descended.

A man wearing a terrifying mask decorated with a shaggy mane boarded the Jedi ship. Someone looked around and waved his hand. Two men dressed in a similar way, but with more modest masks, ran up to him. Then the leader gave a sign, and the two ran off in different directions. Obviously, they were looking for something.

The "masks" acted as quickly as possible. Finally, the leader got into the control room. He sat down in the pilot's seat and began to study the device. It's unusual, but you can figure it out.

The leader in the maned mask carefully studied the buttons and levers. The main thing here is not to make a mistake. Otherwise, you can turn on the alarm by mistake. It's better not to take any chances.

The leader took out a small device and ordered:

— The second one, how do you hear? Call the third one.

Two minutes later, both of them came running, one of whom began to "conjure" over the keyboard. Five minutes later, the ship rose smoothly into the air.

[addictedtostorytelling]

another question for our meta queen ❤ i completely agree with you on the entire gsr finally getting together having to do with 5.21 committed but i was wondering if you think they got together during the episode (like after adam threatened sara) or after the case was closed? love your analysis ❤

hi, anon!

you are too kind. ❤

re: your question:

so in the years since i made those old posts about grissom and sara first getting together in vegas circa the events of episode 05x21 "committed," i've actually revised my stance a bit.

i now place them getting together a little earlier in s5, between the events of episodes 05x19 “4 x 4" and 05x20 “hollywood brass”—not for any super definitive "it could only be on this particular date because x, y, or z!!!" reason but just because i like that earlier date better.

i think it's fun watching the last several episodes of s5 (including episode 05x21 "committed") with the assumption that they're already together by that point!

i have a post discussing the (admittedly neither-here-nor-there) rationale behind my new favored date here, if you're interested.

as for the possibility of grissom and sara getting together circa the events of episode 05x21 "committed," certainly, my flipflopping aside, it does remain on the table.

as i state in the above-linked post, based on certain benchmarks from both inside of the universe of the show and outside of it, there exists a window of possibility for when grissom and sara might first get together in vegas extending from events of episodes 05x13 "nesting dolls" at the earliest to just prior to the events of 06x05 "gum drops" at the latest, with any date between those two points being fair game.

one thing we can say for certain about the possibility of them getting together circa the events of episode 05x21 "committed" is that if they do so, they don't actually "cross the threshold" during the events of the episode itself.

and why can we say so?

because the events of episode 05x21 "committed" take place, within the universe of the show, on tuesday 04.26.05 and wednesday 04.27.05, and in episode 08x02 "a la cart," sara tells ecklie that she and grissom first became intimate on a sunday.

that so, unless we assume that sara misremembers the calendar day when they first sleep together in vegas, which, given its significance to her, i don't think she does, then they couldn't actually sleep together at any point while they are actually investigating the trent case; they would have to wait until four days later, on the next weekend—which, considering the emotional nature of the case and how it probably affects them even after it's officially wrapped, does seem very feasible if episode 05x21 "committed" is one's favored "get-together date."

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

[blueburied]

every now and then i see posts about homeschooling and i'm like hey i was that i wanna talk about it !!

so for context i was homeschooled until 9th grade (2020), when i went to high school. I think that i got really lucky? basically every post i see about homeschooling is talking about how bad it is. And i can get why! people aren't always ready to like. fully teach someone. and sometimes also people are bad parents and take their kids out of school to have more control over them. its so shitty, especially when you're used to one environment and you're settled there and all of a sudden you're trapped at home with someone you don't always like.

I was lucky. My mom is wonderful and a librarian with a masters. She also like. put proper effort into teaching. It was nice having a teacher who knew me on that level and could understand how i worked. She also enrolled me in social programs where i could socialize, make friends, and experience things she couldn't give me herself. In particular i remember the homeschool gymnastics program I went to on wednesdays extremely fondly. Co-ops (which is, at least in my experience, a once a week thing where we take classes that we want to take that are taught by other homeschool parents). In particular the classes I remember the best would be the class where i took a computer apart and put it back together and got it to post (i was SO proud of myself, also i was like 9 or 10) and a greek mythology course in which we would do readings of plays among other things which is probably part of the reason i am a theater kid. I made and hung out with all my friends that way, and my family is still friends with one of the other families we had met through the second co-op we were a part of! My mom was actually the biggest advocate for me going to high school, primarily because they have resources she knew i couldn't get at home. Now granted, I went to a vocational school, but I still graduated with a 4.0 GPA and am now going to my choice university for something i'm really passionate about! I will say i was probably a bit on the sheltered side, but the internet and four years in high school more than made up for that lmao.

It seems like i'm very much an edge case, but i do want to say that it can be done right! BUT. if you're considering, based off of other experiences i've seen, i would probably suggest not to. at least not initially. if your kid comes to you asking about it, maybe then it is a good time to consider! but remember: do your research and make sure you get proper teaching resources! be prepared to teach like its your job! and also, and perhaps most importantly. socialize your kid! make sure they have people around their age they can hang out with some regularity!

oh and also don't try to control their entire life!

If I am wrong on something, do feel free to critique me in an RB! I am open to learning, or at least wanna try to be.

[science-lings]

Revali desperately wants some kind of reaction from link. Everything he tries fails miserably. After a particular comment about links family, he finally got one! In the form of a punch to the beak

okay I'm combining this one with a very similar prompt: wild gets mad and punches someone in the face hard enough to break their jaw

Link was the very pinnacle of self-control. Even against pricks like Revali. He was an expert in bottling up his petty anger until he was in front of a monster and using it to slice the poor creature into purple dust. He rarely even flinched when confronted with jealous warriors who believed they deserved the sword on his back more than he did.

As if he hadn't spent his whole life with a blade in his hand and an easily verified history of undefeated victory under his belt ever since he was a child. It was that idea that kept him from getting upset when warriors with massive egos tried to taunt him into a fight. He knew his ability and it wasn't his fault that they were threatened by him.

But he wasn't as untouchable as people seemed to think. He wasn't a statue or an idol to be looked upon and prayed to for their salvation, he wasn't a figure from the legends, although, maybe he was. He didn't really feel like one. Behind his well-crafted mask of stone, he was still a person, a teenager.

No matter how perfect he tried to be, he was still just a mortal boy. And he was really dreading the week-long excursion to Rito village to attempt the divine beast's first flight. A whole week spent within earshot of Revali and his constant infuriating squawking.

Unfortunately, the Rito champion had made it his mission to get a reaction out of him, and after hours and hours of endless mocking and fluffing up his feathers, he succeeded.

The princess was off inspecting Vah Medoe for some last-minute checks and had left her personal knight and the divine beasts pilot behind, as neither of them were well-versed in ancient mechanics. Link stayed on his guard while Revali came up with more and more things he could say to bother his fellow champion.

"At this point, I can't even tell if you're simply too stupid to speak or if you have some kind of mental affliction damaging that puny head of yours. I suppose that's what too many moblin clubs to the cranium will get you..." Revali rambled while Link focused on taking even measured breaths.

"Is that why they got rid of you so fast? All those stories about your impossible feats as a toddler were all made up so your parents had a reason to get you out of their sight? I mean, are we supposed to believe that a scrawny four-year-old hylian could even pick up a sword? It's just... too asinine to even consider!" The rito laughed, within the hidden confines of his mouth, the hero clenched his teeth together.

"Well, if that's the case, I don't blame them! Perhaps they were fools for not simply leaving a runt like you to succumb to the elements! I've seen you, you won't even speak to them! I wonder if they regret not leaving you to the beasts as a babe..."

It was then that Link snapped. Before he could break his teeth or let his nails cut into the skin of his palms. After years and years of relentlessly focused control, that was the thing that tossed all his training out the window.

With a swift yank to the bird's champion blue scarf and a satisfying crunch, Link's fist made contact with the side of Revali's beak, sending the rito to the ground causing a heavy thud and a distressed squawk.

"If you wanted me to grace you with my voice so badly you could've just asked, now shut the fuck up for once in your self-obsessed life you overgrown cucco," The hero growled as the rito champion cradled his jaw in his feathery hand and looked up at him with a certain kind of indignant horror.

For the next six days and surely beyond, the mouthy bird had his beak bound by bandages, unable to open it for even the simplest mention of gloating.

The silence was just as sweet as he hoped it would be, and though it was impossible for a single punch to keep Revali's ego at bay, from then on, his insults tended to remain far away from the line he had crossed that day.

Send me prompts?