#its nice to hear characters who like me back lol

[earl-grey-love]

Fuck. Playing a game with actual romance hits sooo different 😩

[crescentfool]

ohh the joy of videos and streams... i like listening to people talk about things they like/think about it’s very contagious... 🥺

[bmpmp3]

and you will listen to my halfway unmixed vocal synth covers. you will. my final message (dies in your arms)

all the virvox guys in voicevox humming! yume no tobira piano ver vsqx by leah ocarina and the instrumental is by 友紀!

[tteokdoroki]

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— overstimulation + seishiro nagi.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — smut, minors dni 18+, characters aged up to 20s, male masturbation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, big cum shots, fantasies, aftercare, afab!reader, pro player!nagi - hello id like to thank @irideaels for letting me rant abt this a few days ago so !!!! enjoy !!! + not beta read btw lol

oh because … nagi who cums until he physically can’t anymore when he’s jerking off.

one hand tweaking his nipples from under his tight black shirt he couldn’t be bothered to shrug off and the other fisting his cock glossed in layers of hot cum and precum — soiling the palm of his hand with its viscosity.

seishiro’s cheeks tint pink with exertion, sweat beading at his hairline like jewels on a necklace as his back arches off the bed and his hips rise with fluid and steady thrusts into his closed fist. he only works hard for things that he wants, and what he wants is an orgasm. more than one. poor sei, all frustrated because he won’t stop until he’s satisfied or until the burn of frustration from not having you with him ceases to exist.

he tucks his face into his shoulder, lips pouty and bitten until they’re a shade darker than the pink that they usually are — nagi running his thumb back and forth, back and forth through the seedy tip of his angry red cockhead just like you would. it’s a nice feeling, especially when he’s so sensitive. it makes his eyelashes flutter against his shirt and an impatient whine reverberate in the depths of his throat because he needs you, he misses you.

everything is too hot, his dick between his stick and shiny cum covered thighs. nagi’s skin to the touch. the sex tainted air in the room. in order to cool off, sei takes his shirt between rows of pearly white teeth that are gritted to hold his moans and if he closes his eyes tight enough — he can use the wet slap of his hand around his aching, twitching cock to picture you above him and riding him the way he likes..

he imagines the squelch of your precious cunt around him, squeezing himself like you would when you sink down on his thick and lengthy shaft — he starts slow and lazy but the more nagi pictures you bouncing away in his lap, circling your clit to the pace of his whimpers and whines the more he speeds up. mercilessly pounding his own fist, sending droplets of his precum and remainders of his precious orgasms flying about the place and messing up his sheets.

“ngh…hah, angel please. please.” he gasps airily to no one in particular — using the veil of the darkness surrounding him to picture you better. there’s a blistering burn in seishiro’s lower spine like he’s about to bust again and his thighs twitch apart on instinct as if to make room for it all, his second hand shooting between them to squeeze and tug on his large breeder’s balls. he wants you so bad, it makes him cry as he rolls his hips higher and higher. “g’na make me cum. w’na cum…please!”

nagi whispers your name into the night, his hips stuttering as the chord holding back his release snaps in his lower tummy. greyish-brownish eyes roll back into his skull as he helplessly drools from his babbling mouth. one, two, three — he gives a few more shallow pumps to his sore cock, ropes of hot white shooting over his glistening abs and milky chest, seeping into his salt slicked skin. nagi is dizzy, he’s cum, what? three or four times now? he’s lost count, he’s too tired but it’s still not enough to get rid of the white hot need he feels for you.

there’s mess upon mess as seishiro starts himself up again — languidly jerking off with his movements easily guided by the slickness of his last orgasm as lube. this time he thinks of you cleaning him up, sucking bruising marks against the creamy flesh of his thick thighs where only he can see them. you’d kitten lick your way up his cock, take him into your warm pretty mouth and suck on him like your life depends on it.

he can practically hear the way you’d gag on it, spit on it, palm what you can’t swallow down with your dainty little fingers while you moan around him. it drives nagi up the wall. he’s blushing and crying, stroking himself hard and fast and he feels like his hand might drop off — but he’s almost there. dopamine shoots across his brain as sei imagines you taking his release down your throat, how you’d whine around him, complain about just how much he cums even though you both know that you like it.

without realising, his fingers speed up again — thumb circling his tip in tight movements. he switches to using both hands instead of just one, wildly fucking up into his make-shift pussy as if it were yours or your mouth. hot tears sting a path down seishiro’s cheeks in exhaustion and frustration, but this’ll be it. this will be the one to sedate his hunger.

“oh fuck,” nagi’s shakily chokes back a sob, clenching around his own chubby cock, wetting his lips, writhing against the wet bed sheets and blankets below. “oh angel! hah, hah, haaaah!” his hips have a mind of their own while they desperately chase after his high like he would after a goal on the pitch and before nagi knows it. he’s cumming once again. blinding ecstasy rolls over his body in large waves, drowning him, suffocating him. he feels like he can’t breathe as if you’ve stolen all the air from his lungs. blood rushes through sei’s ears and wracks his entire body in a fit of the shakes.

he cums so hard, brilliantly and beautifully — his large cum shot hitting his face and dropping down to his heaving chest while he pants and comes back down. he knows he won’t be able to stay conscious for much longer, blindly reaching for his phone with messy hands to snap pictures of his ruined cock and pink flushed face to send to you.

sei baby ♡ - 10:45PM: came so much 4 u angel. come home soon

sei baby ♡ - 10:47PM: (2 attachments.png)

in fact, nagi’s orgasm and the aftershocks of it are is so big that he quite literally passes out after messaging you, giving into his tiredness. finally being able to relax.

and when he comes to, you’re there, dressed in his clothes — cleaning up nagi’s sensitive spots and all his mess with a damp wash cloth so tenderly, a proud smile on your face as you brush back his sweaty and snowy white hair. “you did so well for me, sei,” you whisper, kissing his tear stained cheeks as if he might shatter if you do. “go back to sleep.”

“mngh… thank you, love you angel…” he manages before drifting off.

“love you too, my handsome boy.”

[sinning-23]

To Breathe Underwater (Luffy x Mermaid!Reader)

Okay yall this is the first of many in a mermaid/siren series I decided to WRITE LIKE AN IDIOT LOL sorey I fell off and haven’t been active I feel like I’m going to crumble- like a strong breeze could take me outta this point.

Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None

Water fills his lungs are he struggles against the still waters. This was the price to pay for his abilities. the ocean consuming him, weighing him down, pulling him into her cold embrace. It burns his nose and throat as he cough the last of his air into bubbles.

His eyes are begingin to close as he falls unconscious, flashes of light swirl around him. Though muffled from the water, he can hear what sounds like metal pieces clinking quietly. Warmth envelops him, arms wrapped around his body as he's pulled up.

What was this...Who was this. He forced his eyes open, the water making it a blurry sight but, it was definitely a who. And a very pretty who at that.

They were calm, eyes scanning his rapidly as her webbed fingers and iridescent hands twinkled in the light. She hold his face, his consciousness fading faster then ever, and with a single connection to lips she preaches air into him, swapping the water that filled with lungs for oxygen. Again and again and again, she breathes into him, slowly but surely swimming him up to the surface, to shore.

_____________

You can’t help but trace his face, the sun making his hair look shinier, and his face so much brighter. You try counting the freckles there, its seemingly impossible. He breaths slow, chest rising and falling and you trace the scar there. You’d never been this close to a human before....they're so delicate.

He coughs, the last remnants of water spilling from his lips as you gasp and flinch back. You can hear voices from afar but you don't move, far too worried about the human in front of you to care. You crawl back to him, pushing the wet hair from his face and cupping his cheeks after. He's missing something...

"Who are you?" His voice is raspy, yet concerned.

You shake your head, looking back to the water to see his hat floating. Bingo! You grab it, and set it over his face, leaning close to his ear before letting your name roll off your glossy lips.

He repeats it, a slow mantra of your name drips off his tongue as you slither back to the water.

"That was a mermaid! Luffy got saved by a mermaid!" Usopp gasps, pulling his captain up with a smile.

Of course, Luffy was still a bit delierous form the deamn near death experience, but he made a note to remember than name so he could properly thank the thing that saved his life.

You.

_6.5 months later_

Winter draws in and your tail was shed for a pair of limbs longer than your arms. It wasn't the first time you'd had this happen and it certainly would be the last. Every winter, a mermaid sheds their tail to seek warmth on land during the cold and snowy months. Then, in spring, when the first few flowers bloom and the tempurature rises, you return to sea.

Now, you were sitting in one of this villages many taverns, well, one of which mermaids like yourself have come for shelter for decades. The current owner had given you a nice room and some fresh clothes for the winter months and in return for giving you that you would provide entertainment.

So there you are, hair flowing over your shoulders, voice ringing sweetly across the space as customers, pirate or otherwise, indulge.

You hadn't realized that the table at the far left of the eatery had been occupied, and one of the guest simply couldn't tear his eyes away from you. You were so...familiar.

"Luffy you look like you’re burning holes through her, calm down. " Nami speaks, a smirk forming over he features seeing her Captains current state.

Luffy wasn’t very well versed in just etiquette but then again you didn’t really need that when you were a pirate. The content of his character was far more important than idk maybe not standing on a rich ladies table and requesting a boat from her.

Anyway, he snaps his gaze away from you and back to Nami. There you were, glittering under this mellow spotlight as your voice carried over sweet, diabetes inducing melodies and his heart can’t help but squeeze.

You’d saved his life, that’s something he’ll never let go, somehow feeling a pinch in debt to you. His eyes trail from the top of your head to the shoes on your feet. Usopp might have an answer for that….

“I swear she was a mermaid when she saved me. Usopp, you know a lot about those things, why is it that she has legs now?” He questions, leaning forward with a wide smile.

The man in question stammers for a moment trying to find the words but before he can even get some outlandish explanation out, the waitress just so happened to cut in.

“This has been a rest spot for mermaid for years. They get legs in the winter to stay warm on land among the people. Then, in spring, they return to sea, we’ll if they do choose. The longer they stay on land, the harder it is to go back to their tails.” She explains, setting down drinks, tucking the tray under her arm.

“Some merfolk opt to stay human and they just, unadapt I suppose. They lose their tails forever.”

Luffy draws back to the stage to realize you’re not there and a panic shoots through him. He grabs the waitresses arm, wondering where you’d gone and she only points to an empty staircase. That’s all it takes for him to jump out his seat and leave his crew behind. He needed to see you. He needed to hear your voice. Feel your hands over his face, tracing his freckles and over his lips.

He wanted his heart to feel as if it somehow spring out his chest when you spoke. Is this what a crush feels like???? He did it know anything about you accept that you’d been kind enough to save him, you were a mermaid, and god were you absolutely beautiful. But, he found himself wanting to know you, and when he wants something, he’s determined to get it.

The light creeking of your door makes you flinch but you turn to see that same man you'd though tof nonstop for the past 6 months. The silence is deafening, your heartbeat ringing n your ears and his does the same.

You swallow dryly, trying to think of something to say but...what is there to say? He steps in, pausing for a moment to search your eyes for protest, but you only encourage it with a step forward.

"You look different when you’re not drowning." You joke poorly, seeing him slile.

"So do you when im not busy trying to breathe underwater.” He laughs, seeing you smile in response.

[authorhjk1]

Hi writer-nim, I'm no detective, but since checking out and enjoying your colour series I'll take a wild guess though I may be wrong lol but the one with the * has to somewhat be RV related since the first two stories about it are connected but the secret lies in the characters mentioned during the first one with Irene and since Seulgi showed up in the second one I guess the remaining members would show up then (I hope) but since Yeri was already written in black I hope you could make another one of her in this? She looked amazing here I guess this counts as purple even though she has a white dress inside lol but the outfit sure is tempting since it looks so easy to rip off everything from her, I mean who doesn't want to see maknae tiddies being cared for while bouncing up and down all over your face. But its ok if you can't make one more of her, however you can make this for a future piece if you feel like it. Have a nice day.

https://kpopping.com/documents/c9/4/1200/240405-Red-Velvet-Yeri-Coach-Pop-Up-Opening-Event-documents-4.jpeg?v=c62fd

https://kpopping.com/documents/36/1/1200/240405-Red-Velvet-Yeri-Coach-Pop-Up-Opening-Event-documents-2.jpeg?v=3cf88

Purple

(Kim Yeri X Male Reader)

You take your tie out of Yeri's hand. The bottom part is already soaked. Looking down on her, you see her phone in the other hand. A picture of you is on the screen.

"Are you going to punish me?"

Yeri's mischievous grin awakens something dark within you. Punishing her is something you've always wanted to do. To wipe that satisfied smile off her face, by totally ruining her body.

"Or are you gonna rat me out to Irene unnie?"

But then again, that's exactly what Yeri wants. And you don't want to give in so easily. Her cheeks are still showing a hint of red, after you've just caught her in the act. Of course you knew what was going on inside her room, when you saw her thong dangle on her doorknob.

"Do you think Irene would like it, if I told her you touch yourself to a picture of me?"

You hold up your tie.

"And use this as well?"

"You don't have any proof."

Her victorious, teasing smile makes a fire burn inside of you. She manages to piss you off and turn you on at the same time. After Seulgi, Joy and Wendy all slept with you, you expected Yeri to eventually follow in their footsteps. You just didn't expect she would actually touch herself, thinking about you. It turns you on more, thinking about how often she could've already done this.

"So what? You want to pretend to be a bad girl?"

Yeri stands up, the top of her head barely reaching your chin.

"I am a bad girl. And what do bad girls like I get.... daddy?"

She whispered that last word. And she watches you with amusement in her eyes as she waits for a reaction.

Just like the other three, Yeri doesn't know that Irene is allowing you to sleep with them. She really wants to be a bad girl. To seduce someone else's boyfriend. Even if it's Irene. The thrill of finally getting what she wants rushes through her veins.

"No."

Yeri's face falls, when she hears your rejection. She expected you to kiss her, or to grab her by her throat and and tell her how bad she really is, or run to Irene and tell her about this. She didn't expect a cold rejection.

"But-"

Before she can finish her complaint, you grab her shoulders and turn her around. You push her onto the bed and Yeri hits the mattress she was sitting on just now. With her face buried in her sheets, you straddle her legs and place your hands on her ass.

"You're not a bad girl, Yeri."

Using your tie, you first put both her hands on her back, before tying her wrists together.

"You're just a pathetic brat."

You hear a muffled moan at your words. Seems like you hit a nerve.

"I will punish you. And then, I'm gonna make sure you won't act up again. Understood?"

Yeri slightly lifts her head to give you a nod. When you reach for the purple fabric, you lick your lips. Time to claim the last Red Velvet member. You can't believe you're actually getting to fuck all of them. With new found strength, you rip Yeri's dress off her body. Another moan into the sheets follows a surprised gasp.

You expose her ass by tearing the purple dress open further and bunching up the white one around her waist. Her white cheeks instinctively make you deliver a hard slap. You don't even take your time to properly admire her body.

Moan after moan leaves Yeri's mouth as you strike her again and again. Within a matter of minutes both her cheeks show a fiery red. Her moans start to turn into sobs.

"Do you want me to keep punishing you?"

You slowly place a hand on her right cheek, which makes her flinch, before you slowly let it travel inside the gap between her thighs.

"Or do you want me to use you?"

You don't give her another option. Yeri's doesn't deserve just sex. The way she acts makes it clear that the only way she is useful is by being used.

"D-Daddy,"

Her voice is still shaking a little. Especially when you let your fingertips graze her wet labia. Her breath hitches.

"P-Please use me. I promise I'll be a good toy."

You squint your eyes in suspicion. It seems like you managed to turn her around faster than you expected. Or she is just putting up an act.

"Turn around, little brat."

Your mocking tone makes Yeri listen and she quickly does what you tell her. She is now lying on her back and you can see her face now. A mixture of satisfaction and anticipation. As if this is what she expected, but she didn't think you would go this far? You don't really care at this point. You only care about that cute pussy underneath her purple dress. Since it's almost completely see through, you can already see it. And because you ripped open her dress earlier, you can now just push the useless fabric to the side, revealing her pink lips.

Usually, you would've leaned down and started to eat her out. And she does look delicious, no doubt about it. But you want to make a point. That you are the one who controls her and not the other way around.

You gather some of your saliva in your mouth, before you spit onto her pussy. Yeri gasps at your lewd, almost rude, actions and you push yourself inside of her.

Soon, she is a mewling mess. Her loud cries echo through the dorm, which Irene is probably able to hear. By now, you've basically folded her in half, her ankles to her ears and your face close to hers as you drive yourself into her depths again and again.

"D-Daddy! I-I-I'm-"

Your powerful thrusts and her incoming orgasm makes her tongue and mouth useless. Her brain can't comprehend what's going for a second, before the climax rushes through her. Her body shakes underneath you, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

You grab a fistful of her hair, once she is finished. You manage to stay inside of her as you lie down on the bed yourself and make Yeri straddle you.

"Alright, little brat. Ride me and make me cum. Or I will only punish you from now on. Without the sex."

Yeri's eyes grow wide with fear and a moment later, she starts bouncing on your cock. Her hands hold onto your chest, her eyes are closed as she takes as much of you as she can. She still feels to well dressed for your taste. You reach upwards and grab the purple fabric once more. Yeri watches with big eyes as you tear her dress open again, right above her chest. You only need to pull at the white one a little bit and suddenly, Yeri's tits bounce freely to the rhythm of her riding. You use both hands to play with her soft flesh, enjoying her slick pussy around your cock and her mounds in your hands. When you start to play with her nipples a little more, Yeri throws her head back in pleasure, letting out louder moans.

"You have some nice tits, little brat."

Girls like Yeri always pretend to be bad girls, but they usually love to get praised. You feel it working when Yeri picks up the pace. Pulling her upper body a little more towards you, you capture on of her nipples with your mouth. You greedily suck on both of them individually, switching at random intervals.

Yeri is a moaning mess on top of you. Her hands, which are still tied together, are pressing onto your chest for support as she loses herself in the world of pleasure. Just like you. Your hands have travelled from her tits to her sore ass cheeks. Your mouth still licking and biting her soft skin. You start to pull her onto your cock with more force.

"Fuck, you really are a bad girl."

You say between licks as you feel her pussy squeezing and massaging your cock.

Yeri moans louder and you give her a couple of more spanks, which make her shake.

But you stop after a couple, because your own orgasm overwhelms you. You hold her in place as you thrust upwards, cuming deep inside her cunt. Yeri moans and whines, feeling your cum fill her insides.

[astraxxei]

thinking about lovesick corrupted yan venti 🤤

he was nice enough to give his darling their own room to “be nice” but they have a chain attached from thier ankle to the bed and its only long enough to go to the four corners of the room

thinkign ab how he doesnt think its noncon because it brings them clsoer together

thinking ab darling who just gor kidnapped and gets their ass punished for biting his dick mid bj

he would punish them by hurting them back lol

u should totally write ab reader biting his dick ( like as a way of attacking him ) and getting punished for it

yes this is a noncon request 😞

gn!reader possibly?

- :3

Hi :3 anon! OF COURSE I'LL DO TS. THE BITING IS SO FUNNY HELP ME.

✧.° - You belong to me, darling...~ ♡

ft VENTI from Genshin Impact.

WARNINGS : NSFW: SEXUAL THEMES. INTERACT AT YOUR OWN RISK. DARK CONTENT. ( :NONCON. Sadism/Masochism. Slight blood. Violence. Yandere themes. Character is a yandere. Reader is a victim. Degradation.)

Yandere! Corrupted! Venti. Reader uses they/them pronouns. Reader is gn. AU where corrupted Venti is the ruler of Mondstadt and reader is an innocent citizen. Oneshot: requested.

This is a dark content post. If you do not wish to see this type of content, please block the corresponding tags. I am not responsible for any person reading this. Reader discretion is advised. Any hate will not be tolerated. By proceeding under the cut, you confirm that you wish to see this type of content and you have FULL responsibility of what you're about to read and interact with.

~ ♡ ~

Even ever since you knew about what Barbatos has become, you did not wish to leave your birth nation. Strange, yet endearing, that you had such a strong connection to your homeland that you didn't want to leave even while you knew that your archon had been corrupted with a mind full of malice and power and then... nothing. Destruction and despair, but you preferred to endure than run away. Scared and stunned, you ran and ran like a chased criminal from the wind. You had went out to buy some apples, but suddenly you felt like the breeze has been after you. You felt like this for a while, every single time you stepped foot out of your home, like something was chasing you, a strong desire to make you it's possession filling in it's blood.

But the wind blew so hard this time, it knocked you on a tree and you passed out. About time, because you've been losing sleep lately, you though before blackening out. You suddenly wake up and... You feel strange. Your head hurts, but you're on a soft bed. But you try to get up and...what is that you feel? Restraints? Chains locked in your ankle on the bed.

You realized you could only move to reach the corners of the small room. The chain attached to your ankle was starting to hurt, but you didn't notice that. More importantly, you were scared. You didn't know what was going on. Who was the one that chained you, restrained you, in a place you've never been before? You hear a faint laugh in the distance. Malicious laugh... sending shivers of terror down your spine.

The one climbing up the stairs to the little room you were currently in was no one other than the Anemo archon himself. Your eyes widen. You can't believe you got into this situation.

"B- Barbatos?!"

"Call me Venti, dear~"

His voice is sweet like sugar cubes, but it's scary and intimidating at the same time. He is average heighted, his glowing, pink eyes are staring into yours. His huge smile is spread across his face, and you swear that even in your weak vision you can see blood staining his delicate clothes.

"Look darling. You're mine from now on~ I gave you your own room~ I should be getting rewarded for being so kind and sweet...to my lover. Come here, and I will teach you how to show me your appreciation all day~"

Terrified, you shake your head as he walks towards you. You were scared, so scared, oh, what a monster...

You almost don't notice how swiftly you're being pulled towards him. You try to protest and squirm but his hand is grabbing your hair so hard it hurts and you almost cry out in pain. A malicious laugh is the response you're getting.

"Ahahaha! Look at you, trying to get away from the Anemo archon! This is a way for both of us to bond, you know...you should want it...You should be good to me...or else... I might do something you won't really like...my lovely dearie~"

You stop protesting as his hand on your hair is hurting you too much to handle. Before you realize it you're lowered down to his crotch and as he throws his clothing to the side you see his erection pent up proudly right in front of your face. Your eyes widen at the sudden realization of his size, but you remember, he's a god, so you're not anymore surprised. He looks down at you mischievously and smiles widely as he runs his hand through your hair.

"See that? Well, you better take care of it. I don't have all day."

You sigh in despair of how you got yourself into this situation. You part your lips and start taking it slowly inside your mouth, sucking slowly and looking up at him with a slightly indifferent look. You see his flushed face as he grabs your hair tighter and pulls your head towards himself roughly, the sounds of pleasure escaping his mouth as soon as he feels yours around him.

"Aaah~ Mmph~ Haah~"

He tastes so good. You don't want to admit it to yourself, but you like it. You really like the sensation. But at the same time...you get slightly annoyed. You've been denied freedom and a good life because of this faulty archon, and now he's forcing you to suck on his dick? You feel absolutely degraded. You decide you can't tolerate this, no, for your nation, and your own sake, you can't.

Without even thinking you bring your teeth to bite down. Not too hard, but enough to cause pain. You see Venti's eyes widen and tear up slightly as he lets out a pained squeal and pulls back from you immediately.

You pant and breathe heavily, looking at him as your saliva is connecting your mouth with his tip. Suddenly he looks down at you with a very angry expression and before you know it a hard, sudden slap makes it's way across your face.

"That hurt, you fucking whore!"

Your vision goes foggy. You whimper and place your trembling hand on your cheek. The chain is still tied to your ankle. You look up at him, shaking. He looks down at you, breathing heavily, but seemingly less angry than before. He kneels down and his hand quickly wraps around your neck. It's really hard, and it hurts. You try to whimper out your words.

"..'m sorry..sor- hnn..."

He lets go of your neck and smiles. "This is what you get for being a disobedient slut. Don't worry, I still love you though~ disobedient or not, you're just my adorable little toy..."

He looks down at you with a wide, mischievous smile and caresses your cheek.

"...and I'm going to do anything in my power to make sure you understand that you're mine and mine only. The feeling of me will be implanted in your brain forever. You belong to me, darling...~ "

~ ♡ ~

A/n: I have never written anything more toe curling in my whole life. Also I managed to not laugh while writting the biting part. I did not expect this to happen.

[bloodreddemons]

Hazbin Hotel Episode 7-8 (Finale) Hot Takes ~

I personally loved a lot of the Charlastor content in the beginning. So cute.

The deal Alastor purposed to Charlie was also very predictable. We already knew they were going to eventually make a deal but that deal in particular was just very predictable.

I think everyone knows this already but that "one little favor" that Alastor is going to ask of her is going to bite her in the ass. We don't know what he's going to ask but it's definitely gonna come back to haunt her.

She may even make a deal with him again possibly in the future, who knows.

I'm surprised Vaggie didn't know Angel's could be harmed or killed. Its weird that she also didn't know how to fight against one.

Rosie is a real gem and a wayyyyy better friend than Mimzy fucking is.

I love Carmilla & Vaggie's dynamic. I think they both are very much the same personality wise. I definitely can see Carmilla as a mother figure to her or at least a teacher to her, which she pretty much is.

To follow up, I loved Carmilla training Vaggie and helping her get her wings back. Out For Love was also really really good. I liked it a lot.

Never thought I'd hear Alastor call someone an old bitch but it was everything.

I knew Charlie was gonna forgive Vaggie regardless of anything but I love Auntie Rosie.

I didn't really like "Ready For This". I wish I did like it. Especially since it had Charlie, Alastor, & Rosie in it. Idk I liked Out For Love more.

Vox's commentary was funny asf but he's also such a hater. Not even a low-key one lmao.

The post-fight celebration and speech was actually very sweet. Although I wish there was more time and episodes that we could have seen more of the characters bond. I also wish there were more opportunities where we got to know them better.

I really thought Angel & Husk were gonna fuck this episode.

I wasn't expecting for Sir Pentious to say "I love you" to Cherri Bomb so soon and I also didn't need to know he had 2 dicks.

"More Than Anything" Chaggie version was pretty sweet. It'd be cool if there was a longer version idk if there is. They also kissed which was nice.

Adam & Lute are funny asf. Especially Adam. They may be horrible people but I just can't get over how funny they are. Even when they're about to massacre Charlie's people. Lol.

I wasn't expecting the war to be kinda epic. The shield that Alastor put up over the hotel kinda reminded me of the last Harry Potter. When they all put a shield around Hogwart's to protect everyone from the death eaters and voldemort.

Adam might just be the funniest character in this series dead or alive. Heaven or Hell.

It pisses me off how Charlie barely does anything in the fight. Like, this is her people and her fucking hotel as she keeps saying... yet everybody else but her is fighting. Wtf? Girl yo ass should be in Sloth.

I love Alastor & Adam's dynamic, their first impression of eachother is so hilarious. The fight between them was also very entertaining. I was really curious to see who would win.

I was actually kinda surprised that Alastor was defeated so easily. I honestly thought he was stronger than that, but tbh Adam is very powerful he's the fucking first man, extermination commander, and he already single handedly broke Alastor's shield.

People have pointed out Alastor's "normal" voice when his mic/staff breaks, because it's his voice without the radio filter. Imma be honest I wasn't that shocked at all, he just sounds the same to me, the radio filter just adds a cool effect.

Charlie really could have got tf up there and helped Alastor out. Idk if she thought he could handle himself or what but fuck.

SIR PENTIOUS KISSING CHERRI WAS AMAZING. WE WON. But then he "died"...

To follow up that sacrifice was anticlimactic at the same time. Mostly because of the way Adam just effortlessly zapped him out of existence.

I'm so disappointed in the "Charlie finally snaps" bit. I was literally dying to see this part in the series, where Charlie finally loses her shit and stands up for herself or whatevever....but it ended up being extremely disappointing and yet again, anticlimactic.

Charlie's transformation along with Razzle & Dazzle was kindaaa cool, however...her getting her ass kicked within like 0.3 fucking seconds was not. It was embarrassing for a demon of her status. I can understand Alastor, but seriously Charlie? You can't beat him? The clownery.

I loved the Vaggie & Lute fight. Let my girl Vaggie finally get her ones. Lute needs her ass beat disrespectfully for what she did.

Although...Lute was winning that fight, she was still holding her own and getting more hits in. I don't even think Carmilla's teaching's were working. Lmao damn. That bitch is fucking scrappy.

Vaggie should have just ended Lute. I know she's too good for that, but she really should have just killed that bitch. She left you for dead you should have just killed her.

Charlie stabbing Adam and standing her ground was badass, but that was kinda it. She still ends up almost getting choked out. Lame.

Charlie just isn't that powerful. 😒 Or at least as she's supposed to be. Maybe it's still not really shown to us, but so far she just isn't that threatening at all. Very disappointing.

Lucifer coming in kinda pissed me off. I wish Charlie could have actually handled everything herself without her dad having to come in and help her. I just feel like it'd be more impactful for her and her character.

Adam x Lucifer actually does seem kinda hot....just me???

Their fight was very entertaining despite already knowing who would come out on top. Hehe.

"All of Mankind came from these fucking nutts" is pure poetry.

Nifty is a menace and I have been saying it since the very beginning. If anyone should be running shit it should be her. Alastor is so feared but it should be herrrr.

I didn't like "The Show Must Go On" as a song but it was sweet in the sense that it was about Charlie and her found family helping her rebuild her hotel and still have the determination to keep going. Also it helps lead off into Season 2.

I'm fucking itching to know what deal is bothering Alastor and who he made it with. It's becoming more likely that it's with Lilith & that's who owns him.

I think it's obvious the deal possibly involve's Alastor to watch over or protect Charlie. Alastor is becoming bothered by having to do this because he literally almost fucking died.

I'm really worried about what Alastor is going to do when he's finally free and under no restraints from who controls him. I know Viv said Alastor isn't an antagonist but she could've just been keeping it a secret.

Alastor really might be a secret antagonist. He'll just be that surprise villain in the end that kinda comes out of nowhere but you still knew it was coming. I wouldn't trust him especially with what he said. Him pulling the strings can't be good.

I can't believe Sir Pentious got redeemed before Angel Dust, but still good for him! I'm so happy he got redeemed he truly is good and deserves it.

I was pissed asf when I saw Lilith in Heaven. Your daughter has been in HELL fucking struggling, while you've been sitting comfy up in heaven, the same place that is fucking YOUR people up!!! Helloooo??

My theory is that Lilith is Eve in disguise. I wholeheartedly believe that because something just feels off?? Y'all feel that too??? Lilith making a deal with Adam? Chilling up in Heaven? NAH MAN.

I also think it could be Eve who owns Alastor and that he knows of her being disguised as Eve, and is in Heaven. Like he's kinda in on it, but more so by force.

[vvatchword]

In Defense of BioShock Infinite

Although I had preordered BioShock Infinite with all its bells and whistles, I did not actually play it until January 2023. And lordy, I had me another Experience with a capital E. How the hell a bunch of urban Yanks could capture my experience as a queer democratic-socialist atheist struggling with her roots as a rural evangelical-cum-fascist is kinda magical, honestly. As to the game itself, it didn’t hurt how good it looked—the kickass skyhook gun battles—that novel setting—the complex characters—that delicious historical setting—that bloodthirsty critique of America—and to top it all off, they had pulled yet another Cassandra. Hell, speaking of which—not only was the game fun, it was fucking smart. It was intelligent, memorable, and meaningful in a way I hadn’t experienced in video games for years.

Now, back in 2013, when I had realized that I would be spoiled for Infinite, I left the BioShock fandom. After completing the game, I headed to Tumblr to re-engage, wagging my whole body like an excitable golden retriever, only to discover that BioShock Infinite was remarkably absent, and when mentioned, brutally derided. 

“I hate BioShock Infinite and all my friends do, too,” someone said in the tags under a post. 

I was utterly befuddled and deeply sad. I wanted to talk about BioShock Infinite! I wanted to dig into it, uncover unexpected ideas, learn new things, talk shit, make new friends—the full fandom experience. And instead I kept stumbling into hateful diatribes and super-charged disgust.

Obviously, I first looked at myself and my own judgment. Had I missed some obvious problem or misread some theme or dialogue? This wouldn’t be the first time I’d snapped down on a hook. But the more I thought about it, the angrier I got.

There are two parts of BioShock Infinite that are unquestionably terrible: the fridging of Daisy Fitzroy and the false equivalence of violence between haves and have-nots (lol what are the have-nots supposed to do, ask nicely?). Additionally, one could look at the use of real Native American tragedies as tasteless. Personally, I do not—in the same way that I don’t find it tasteless that real war victims were used as inspiration for Splicer deformities. This is what really happened; this is commentary on events that really happened to real people. 

At this point, I’m sure I don’t have to explain why two of these themes are Unequivocally Bad. 

Anyway, I thought that perhaps these were the reasons BSI had been condemned to Super Hell.

I was wrong.

How Criitcsim Werk

This wasn’t the fandom I’d made friends in over 2010. Hell, this wasn’t the fandom of 2013. This was a fandom made up of Babies. They were making their first coltish stumblings into media criticism and with it, dredging up the same brain-dead bullshit from Tumblr circa 2008.

Suddenly I was brought face to face with people who seemed to think that if a character couldn’t be likable or good that the story itself couldn’t be likable or good; that one bad element means the story is unsalvageable (lol u pussies); the implication that one is bad for liking it; the destructive juvenile insistence that media accurately measures its fans’ moral qualities en masse like an astrological sign. This goes far beyond simple like or dislike and plunges head-first into Puritanism: praying loudly on street-corners instead of quietly in a dark corner where God might hear you.

At one point I had a kid go off about how they wouldn’t take time to understand Booker DeWitt’s perspective because he had (fictionally) taken part in a genocide. (That same person said the Native American element had been employed for shock value, a thought that sometimes keeps me up at night, because it is legitimately one of the dumbest criticisms the game has ever received.) At another point I saw someone acting personally offended that (fictional person) Dr. Suchong’s (fictional) data was being stolen (in a fiction) by a (fictional) racist who would (fictionally) take credit for (fictional person) Suchong’s (fictional) inventions “while calling him slurs”. Sure, a better question would have been, “Why would the creative team opt to do this” rather than assume intentional racism from a Jewish creative director with an in-office multi-ethnic team in the year of our lord 2013, but why not handwave the choice with prurient moral dismay so your audience won’t beat you to death with bats? 

It was as though fans were treating these completely fictional characters as real people whose personal gods had opted to torment them, and that their tormentors merited the kind of censure that psychopaths should receive. As I hope all of you understand, this is fucking madness.

More than once I saw people posting about hating the studio or the creative director in ways that seemed intense, unreasoning, and excessive—notably an “I Hate [Irrational Games creative director] Ken Levine” stamp (rofl the more things change amirite). People get so performatively moralistic about it that I started wondering if I missed something big along the way. Was there some secret Voxophone I missed swearing fealty to baby Hitler or some shit?

Double Standards

At the same time, I was utterly confused. BioShocks 1 and 2 both featured some absolutely ghastly bullshit based on real-life horrors and a thick mix of complicated human beings—many of them victims who have become monsters. The fact they are grounded in historical tragedies is a huge part of their appeal. Hell, I don’t think those games would have had half their meaning without World Wars I and II and the threat of a third.

A gay man who feels so cursed by his orientation that he is incapable of intimacy and systematically destroys his ex-lovers—including the man he loves the most. A Korean who survived Japanese occupation and a Jewish Holocaust survivor repeat the violence and traumas exacted upon them and their people, subjecting a new generation to agonies unthinkable. Chasing the shadows of Bolsheviks, a Russian citizen becomes the brutal tyrant that he loathed. A rich lawyer with an easygoing drawl designs a concentration camp and systematically harvests hundreds, if not thousands of political prisoners, selling them out to medical testing for a quick buck.

But a Native man who destroys his own people and class to ensure his own survival and social acceptability is too far? This character is where people drew the line, so much so that the entire game is disavowed? Hell, if you’re just talking about Booker (rather than Comstock), he doesn’t have anywhere near the largest bodycount. If we were to judge on the metric of human misery alone, Booker wouldn’t even hit the top ten. 

Keep in mind that the most-discussed BioShock game on Tumblr is BioShock 2, and that one of the biggest fandom favorites is Augustus Sinclair—the easy-talkin’ Georgia lawyer who sells your character into horrors past all human comprehension, as he sold hundreds before and after you. Sinclair is a motherfucker so vile that BioShock 2 gives you no choice but to murder him. But Sinclair is also pleasant; good-looking to some; spends the whole game making sweet love to your ear; is one of the only true positive experiences you experience in a horror story. Unlike DeWitt, a man who is brutal and awful from step one, Sinclair is smooth and sweet. Unlike DeWitt, Sinclair’s victims are faceless, completely fictional, and carry no political or social baggage.

People fuckin’ ship this guy with Subject Delta, his explicit victim. He’s usually described as a squishy cinnamon roll. In most fanfiction, he often gets to escape to the surface and fuck Delta while helping raise Eleanor as Dad 2. It is rare that I find fanfiction that acknowledges his monsterhood in all its glory. In fact, I can only think of two.

Literacy Comes in Levels

My problem with the over-the-top hatred of BioShock Infinite is along the same lines as my confusion at Twilight and Harry Potter hate: there is so much worse out there (how much do the haters actually engage with media if they think this is that bad—yes, even considering the shitty creators themselves!), the hatred far outweighs the sin committed (in BioShock’s case, the truly bad bits are not central enough to derail the larger narrative), people don’t seem to hate it so much as they want to be seen hating it, fans want to enforce an unspoken rule hating it (bitches this is poison. Stop this), and there’s something about the hate that stinks of poor reading comprehension.

A great metric for general literacy is the newspaper. In journalism, you’re writing for the lowest-common denominator, which for years here in the USA has been about a fifth-grade reading level (about 10-11 years old, for my non-American readers). The AP posted an article a couple years back about how the general reading comprehension of Americans needs to be dropped to a third-grade one (8-9 years), and baby, I’m here to say it’s true. 

Most of the problem is that the American education system is shitty as fuck. The rest of it is from an extremely American disdain of intellectualism and the arts. People are not taught how to interpret art or literature—a difficult and subtle skill which involves accepting such truths as “multiple contradictory readings can exist and yet be simultaneously correct”, “the author can be a complete tool and still be right about things”, “the author can be a great person and still write horrifyingly incorrect bullshit”, and “worthwhile works can be ridiculously long and it really is your fault for not having an attention span”. 

Media criticism must be learned through trial, error, asking questions, confidently swaggering into a public space to announce your brilliant insight only to have your ass handed to you (usually by your older self ten years later), being willing to admit you swaggered confidently into a public space to state bullshit and then amending your bullshit only to produce more bullshit, and otherwise making a complete and utter cock of yourself. We are taught to fear and flee pain and failure, despite the fact this is how we learn and improve. Because we judge our value by whether or not we are “smart,” we are afraid of displaying that we don’t know something or might be mistaken–better not to try at all than to reveal ourselves to be fools. And yet the best way to learn is to crash up against someone else and be proven wrong!

American parents are terrified of hurting their children to the point that they spare them cognitive dissonance of any kind, disavowing difficult art—without any appreciation for the fact that art is how we provide safe spaces to explore key human experiences, better preparing us to face those difficult subjects when there are real-world consequences (sex, gender and social expression, grief, violence, predation, illness, interacting with people of different ideologies, whatever new issue is pissing off some smooth-brained old motherfucker somewhere). 

If parents and teachers aren’t teaching us how to interpret art, we’re probably never going to develop the skill at all, or crash unsubtly into it in a piecemeal fashion (hello it me). Another unfortunate side effect is that these readers tend to be blitheringly superficial: they are literally intellectually incapable of reading deeper than the uppermost layer of a text. The curtains are always blue.

And let’s not forget the role moral performatism plays in media criticism, which although faaar from new, has reached hilarious levels in the age of social media. What’s important isn’t understanding something, it’s finding something to symbolically burn at the stake so everyone knows God loves us: please keep loving me, please don’t hurt me, please don’t throw me on the fire—for performatism is not for outsiders. We long for human connection so fucking much that it’s more important to destroy what might point out our fallibilities than it is to let ourselves stand in the furnace and burn out the dross.

What do you think the point of BioShock Infinite was?

Emotional Machines

Let’s face it. Human beings give a lot more credence to how something makes them feel than they do its complex invisible reality. We are not logical creatures; we are emotional ones. Our logic is too new a biological mechanism to override something as powerfully stupid as our primal lizard brains.

Knowing this, let’s take BioShock’s most popular characters. The first two are Subject Delta and Jack Wynand, the protagonists of BioShocks 2 and 1, respectively; and why not? They’re the characters we play. In the first two BioShocks, whether or not you kill Little Sisters determines the ending you receive. In other words, Delta and Jack can only be as “wicked” as the players are. 

How do people want to see themselves? As good. What do people want to see around themselves? Good. (What is “good”? Uh, well,,,,,,) What do they want? Simple moral questions with simple moral answers. And in the first two BioShocks, what is moral is obvious: don’t kill little girls. It’s actually kind of insulting once you say it out loud.

In-fandom, Jack and Subject Delta are almost never painted as murderers or monsters, but as victims and heroes; I saw someone musing about putting Subject Delta on a “gentle giants” poll and I nearly choked on my own tongue. I only saw that musing because someone put Subject Delta and Jack in a “Best Fathers” poll. Nobody in-fandom really considers the “evil” or “complicated” endings as canon choices, despite those versions being fully understandable alternate readings, with a story that doesn’t make sense without them. (I don’t believe Burial at Sea is necessarily canon; in fact, I would bet good money that it is a huge middle finger lol, mostly because a number of brain-dead motherfuckers won’t take unhappiness for an answer.)

Most fandom art and writing is gentle, sweet, good: the symbolic healing of the damaged, the salvation of innocents, the turning of new leaves. These things are not just saccharine sweet—they tend to be unrealistically sweet. Now, far be it from me to demand these works cease. There’s a reason they exist. People write them because they need hope and happiness; I have enjoyed them greatly myself and intend to enjoy them in the future. But if y’all get to have your dessert, I demand the right to have my dinner.

The Colours Out of Earth

Let there be media where the opposite can also be true: where everything is unbelievably complicated and unforgivably fucked-up. Let there be characters who slide slurs into their speech without thinking. Let there be characters who destroy themselves in a thousand different ways, not all of them obvious, some of them horrifying. Let there be well-meaning people struggling with all their mights to do what is right only to destroy everyone around them and then completely miss the fact it’s all their faults. Let there be wickedness painted as goodness, superficial appearances accepted over essential and inherent values, denial of change and transformation, failure to accept that what is old must die and what is new must live, human stupidity and short-sightedness and cruelty in all their flavors. Let’s smash it all together and see how it plays out. 

Oh, badly? No shit! But “badly” isn’t the point. How does it play out?

Let there be a world of gradients—a place I can float from color to color, hue to hue, value to value, while attempting to figure out where, why, how, and by whom they transform—to taste concepts in a hundred different ways, test their textures by a hundred different mediums, insert them into a hundred different contexts. I need to understand why I feel the way I do; I need to understand morality in all its hideous, fragmentary glory. For I have been sold to a ideology of blacks and whites, and let me tell you: it prepares you for nothing, and it will always destroy what is most precious about human life.

I can no longer believe in a world where what is lost always returns, because that world does not exist. I have a reflexive need to come to terms with Finality: what I have lost, what I have destroyed, what will never return, what will never be better. I have a reflexive need to understand Transformation: what I am now, what is as of the present, what has risen shambling from the ashes, what turns to gaze upon me in the darkness. I need to understand what is wretched about me as much as I need to heal myself. How can I heal if I can’t understand how I have hurt and been hurt? 

I need to shine a light in the dark. Not to remodel it, not to destroy it—because I also can’t believe in a world where the wicked is destroyed forever—but to behold it, to learn from it, to view my own impact upon it, to accept how it has become a part of me, to learn how to do my best (because that’s all one can do). I must learn to love people more than causes, I must learn to love people rather than the act of winning, I must learn to love people rather than battle. I need to stand in that endless black with the lamp off and my eyes closed, letting the agony roll over me, burning with a fire that throws no light, rolling back and forth from an intense self-loathing to a fury at a society that destroys what is most valuable because it didn’t make them feel the way they wanted.

The Unforgivable

I believe that there are only two differences between Booker DeWitt and his equally cursed cohorts.

In the Hall of Whores: The Unmarked Slate

First, unlike the previous two games, where you enter the world as a tabula rasa and might roleplay as what you perceive as a good person, you are explicitly put into the shoes of a monster, and nothing you do can save you.

With other shitty BioShock characters, you are passively watching other people, and you are able to hold yourself apart. Sure, everyone else is crazy as fuck from using biological Kryptonite, but you’re too smart to end up a crazy fucking asshole like them! Sure, you are now technically a mass murderer, but those fuckers deserved it, damn it! 

“Look at this crazy bastard!” you say, rolling your eyes at the Steinmans and Cohens and Ryans and Fontaines. “It sure is a great thing I’m not a crazy bastard!”

You are able to escape acknowledging that you, too, in certain circumstances, might be the crazy bastard. You are being challenged to stand in the body of a person who has committed unforgivable sins. Imagine if you yourself committed those sins. Imagine what sins you have already committed. Imagine what brutalities you cannot take back. Imagine what horrors you have wreaked just by breathing.

“Ahhhh!” said players, probably. “What do you mean I’m not allowed to be good?”

Because that’s what the game was designed to do. Because “good” is a fucking cop-out and if it’s how you live with yourself wait until you find out you’ve been doing horrifying bullshit all your life without question. You can be evil by association through no fault of your own.

Original Sin

Second, the plight of Native Americans is a sin that non-Natives will always carry, and the socially conscious are aware of this even if they don’t know how to put it into words. The state of affairs being what it is, it is unlikely that First Peoples will ever be treated humanely, much less have their land returned. They must struggle for scraps of what is rightfully theirs while we lounge on their corpses. We cannot help but benefit from their destruction; we are made unwitting partners with our forebears; we steal the fruits of their lands and make mockeries of their faiths and identities. We have destroyed part of what made this world fascinating and unique and most of it can never be returned. Even if everything were to be made right tomorrow, their genocide is a sin that we will carry until we die, because the only reason we could be here at all is because they were killed. 

The obvious solution stands before us, but the powers that be are so much greater than we that we are effectively powerless, and achieving anything less than total restoration smacks of anticlimax. 

This is unbearable.

How can one think of oneself as a good person if one sees the good that must be done, but cannot achieve it? If one’s actions are meaningless? Goodness without action is pretension.

We are all Booker DeWitt. We have all set fire to the tipi. We swept the ashes away, we ignored the sizes of the bones, we built a CVS on their graves, and then we made statues and holidays commemorating Native Americans like the world’s cheapest “Thinking of You” card. We have de-fanged them, transformed them into cardboard cutouts, and set them up as cute little side characters in our sweeping American dream.

Booker is not a man. Booker is America and Americans—and America and Americans are monstrous: one part hypocrisy, two parts incessant violence, three parts constant peacocking, and four parts dumb as a stump.

The Monsters We Make

Outside of the message about “choice,” an enormous part of BioShock’s thematic ensemble is the creation of monsters. How are monsters created? Who or what is responsible for creating them? What do the monsters think made them the ways they are? Can a monster be saved? How? Is it enough to acknowledge you did wrong and want to be a better person?

Maybe most people are aware on some instinctive level of what facing one’s own monsterhood means. No one wants it. It’s not fun. It hurts. It’s embarrassing. It’s destructive. It’s admitting you don’t have it all together and might never, ever—that despite your best actions, you can have it horribly wrong at any point. In an age where we demand moral perfection, it demands vulnerability: you must admit that sometimes you’re the racist, the transphobe, the sexist, the nationalist, the classist, the homophobe, the violent, the wrong, the dumbfuck. 

Human beings are not built to be moral; human beings are built to survive. We so rapidly learn how to deal with our contexts at such young ages that we don’t have the time or capabilities to question why those contexts are the ways they are or why it is demanded we perform the ways we do.

In a very real way, BioShock Infinite demands vulnerability of us. It demands you look in the mirror and see what is monstrous in you—how you have been created—manufactured—a tool, a machine, a trained animal. It asks you to recognize that you can be a monster simply by association. And if we can’t look into the mirror and truly acknowledge that monsterhood, we run very real risks of becoming or enabling those monsters in one way or another.

Worst of all: perhaps monsterhood isn’t optional. Perhaps the monster was inside of us from the very beginning. It’s not a matter of if you become a monster, but when, under what circumstances, by whose hand. What is more, believing the “right” moral stances will not save you. Monsterhood can afflict anyone, in any ideology, any political stance, in any social movement, in any faith. The only element that can save you is to truly love other people, and even then, you can fail, for there can be states where there is no winner and ways to misread how best to treat another person.

Environment and Society: Context Will Not Be Denied

BioShock 1’s original ending is Jack-as-monster, regardless of how many children he saves, regardless of your feelings as player. He passes through the gauntlet of Rapture, but he has supped of its poison. And he wasn’t poisoned when he entered Rapture the second time—he was poisoned the minute he was conceived. He was born of it. He had no hope of ever escaping it—he never could have—he’d never had a choice to begin with.

No matter what choices you make in BioShock Infinite, Elizabeth will always kill you. Why? Because she has seen every world—every context—every limitation—every boon. And there is no way to stop what has been; there is no way to undo what has been done. The minute you have committed to a decision, you have split the universe; there is no telling what kind of person it will make you. In fact, there’s no telling which of your decisions will matter at all. Only Elizabeth can see because she is the unlimited future: your offspring stands before you, judge and jury, and you will have no choice but to accept her verdict, for despite your name, you are incapable of controlling how you are interpreted. 

Elizabeth sits across from you in the boat and stares without blinking. She sees a million million similar Bookers. Some are a little bit taller, some a little bit shorter, some a little heavier or lighter. Some more-resemble one grandparent or another. They have different colored ties. This one blinks when rain hits him in the eyeball. That one took a brutal beating back on the airship and one eye is swollen shut. That one can’t stop shaking; this one is unable to speak at all; one hasn’t yet lost hope, although even he doesn’t realize it.

They all lowered the torch to the tipi.

The baptism determined Comstock; what determined Booker?

Why Booker Is

In BioShock 1, characters are often stand-ins for larger concepts. Thus Ryan stands in as Ayn Rand’s Objectivist Ubermensch; Bill McDonagh as Andrew Ryan’s conscience; Diane McClintock as the citizenry of Rapture; Captain Sullivan as law and order; Frank Fontaine as the truest expression of Objectivism in its distilled form.

Who is Booker? Most importantly: why is he?

Booker is a fictional character with a brutal background based on historical events, alternative and true. Booker might be Lakota; Booker might have undergone forced Anglicization; Booker might have been ripped from his parents; Booker is a product of violence, perhaps literally. Booker is American exceptionalism distilled. Booker is the past in constant judgment of itself, unable to live with itself and unable to die. Booker destroys what is best in him and around him in exchange for belonging. Booker has sold the future to absolve his sins. Booker has sold his daughter because he is a fictional character in a work of fiction who needs to be propelled.

Booker is a shell, a sluice, an environment. Booker is the broken shape you are meant to fill, horrified. His internal shape should torture you as it has tortured him: the messy slaggy soul of a shitty tin soldier.

Does Booker take the baptism and become Comstock? If so, it might be his second one. His last name literally means “the white.” His first name can mean “author.” It is most likely his second name: an attempt to rewrite himself. And when he was unable to rewrite himself the first time, when the cognitive dissonance boiled at the edges of his skull, he found there was only one way to cleanse himself the second: to remake the world entirely. To force transformation on everyone else. To take vengeance on a world that could never love him, never want him—to create a world that has no choice but to love him. If he can’t change the world’s mind, he’ll change the world.

Note what he opts to do: to take the fight to the environment–to the unyielding universe.

Context Is Everything

It is no mistake that BioShock Infinite occurs in 1912: the sinking of the Titanic is often credited with ending an unfettered optimism, a period when the Western world believed technology had brought the human race into a golden age. With World War I—which would follow a mere two years later—came modern warfare and all the horrors thereof, not the least of which was the realization that humans had created a kind of war that could destroy the entire world. World War I also seeded the rise of the United States: much of the wealth of warring Europe—itself fat on the blood of subjugated peoples and stolen lands—would rattle into America’s coffers.

It is also no mistake that BioShock 1 directly follows World War II. With WWII came a heightened terror—that this war is not the last war, that there will never be an end to war, that war will go on expanding and expanding until it has consumed us all. World War III would not be denied: prettily packaged in the ideals of its children, it simply followed the utopians down to their underwater tombs. According to BioShock 1’s original ending, World War III is not a matter of if—it’s a matter of when.

But even more important than the history in the BioShock games are their settings. Mute leviathans, Rapture and Columbia determine all of your behaviors: from where you can exist in space to all of your desires and goals to how you choose to present yourself to how you opt to behave. Isolated in extremism—whether that extremism is the crushing depths of the ocean or the unbearable lightness of the air—most of their power is that they simply cannot be escaped. You can’t outrun them. They are everywhere. They are everything.

Like Lovecraft before it, BioShock acknowledges the greatest horror of all: you cannot escape your context. Your context does not only involve your immediate surroundings. It is also historical; contains zeitgeists from various cultures and subcultures; is filled with pressures both personal and impersonal, human and nonhuman. Many of these forces can hurt you. Many more can destroy you. What you do to survive depends very much on where, when, and with whom you must live.

Human beings are not built to be moral.

The Death of the Future

In the film Operation, Burma!, a soldier asks Errol Flynn: “Who were you before the war?”

“An architect,” says Flynn.

Who were you? Because that “you” doesn’t matter now. That “you” is irrelevant. So you’re an architect. What the war does to you; what these deaths mean to you; your past, your education, your loves and desires and forward motivation, the you that could have been outside war, the you that slogs alone into the brutal future—all completely irrelevant. Your forebears don’t care so long as you can bleed. 

Children are the manufactured tools of their creators—helpless before the enormous strength of their elders and the zeitgeists that enclose them, poisoned by their parents’ insecurities and flaws, utilized like weapons regardless of the cost—often with great love.

Consider something more than the traumatized culture: consider the society filled with traumatized children; consider the traumatized society. Consider channeling children through that trauma over and over and over again, if you can. Poisoned—poisoned—poisoned—all of us poisoned. Poisoned by those who loved us most. Poisoned by the people we trusted. Poisoned by the people who meant to make a better world.

I believe it is notable that creative director Ken Levine is Jewish; I have read from multiple accounts that the European Jewish diaspora was uniquely traumatized from the Holocaust and passed that trauma down upon their own families. I sometimes wonder if he saw that firsthand.

The fathers eat sour grapes; their children’s teeth are set on edge.

Choice: Player Expectations and Entitlement

For players who experienced BioShocks 1 and 2 with their multiple endings (Good, Bad, and “ok bye then I guess” respectively), it must have been jarring to suddenly reckon with being a monster. How often I see players grousing that nothing they do will change their wicked pasts! These players completely miss that the only meaningful choice had already been made, that it had nothing to do with the player at all, and even if they had been there, DeWitt was still unforgivable. The only way to go on was to bow out and allow the future to redefine herself.

Nobody was ready for that shit. 

Like it or not, BioShock 1 had set a precedent. Not everyone’s going to read up on creator intentions. If any keyword came blaring through the noise, it would have been “choice.” Most players only recognize choice by the ability to make it, not the absence of it, and most of them weren’t equipped to recognize that its lack was the point. The meaningless choices were commentary, and they were as much about the player as they were about DeWitt himself. Not every choice will be meaningful, will it? And there will be choices you make that will be momentous, but they will seem very small when you make them.

Because most players had experienced what they thought was a basic moralistic tale in the first two games, and would see Infinite not as reflection upon America’s destructive personality, its obsession with a meaningless Good/Bad duocracy, and the infinite, cyclical nature of violence, they saw Booker’s death as corrupted artsy claptrap.

“I did the good schuut,” they say. “I want the good schuut end. Where happy end??? Where treat :(”

Bitch the future is here. 

Time to die.

It’s Not Me, It’s You

Generally I despise essays that end with, “But the real fault lay with the clueless motherfuckers who played the game!” Often, if enough people complain, there’s something to it; the message has been obscured somehow. Details or explanations weren’t clear or intuitive enough, some mechanism isn’t working somewhere, some character needs to talk more or less, some setting needs to be transformed. O artist: stop whining and get cracking. If everywhere you go smells like shit, it’s time to look under your shoe. 

But sometimes it’s true that a piece of media is on a level folks aren’t equipped for. Think of every literature and art class you’ve ever had, if you’ve been fortunate enough to have one. There’s always someone scoffing in a back row, like here are all these jokers making more of something than they should. Similarly, some of you have been arguing with me this entire time, saying: “I just wanted a video game. I just wanted to shoot something and feel better and instead I get this bullshit ending that makes no sense.”

First of all, smart bullshit (and even fucked-up attempts at smart bullshit! Hi BioShock 2) gets to exist on this Earth along with Gmod and Roblox or Schuut Big Tits 84 (there are 84 tits and you must shoot them all. They explode into smaller tits) or whatever-the-fuck-else you think is a worthwhile gaming experience. Second of all, miserable bullshit also gets to exist, and what did you fucking expect if you played through either BioShocks 1 or 2? When you hear a football player quavering out in the darkness for his mom to pick him up, how’d that make you feel? What did you think was going to happen to Jack after pounding back the entire Plasmid library, the cancer cocktail that explicitly destroys the fuck out of its users? Third of all, if you missed the smart bullshit going on in BioShock 1 and didn’t think BioShock Infinite might be larger in scope in more ways than one, that’s on you. Fourthly, if you were simply satisfied with saving like, 15 kids from a violently-perishing city of thousands and call it good, I mean… is that really where your thoughts end? Are you really that fucking small?

It’s Not You, It’s Me

You ever meet those motherfuckers who talk shit about Shakespeare or modern art? And you’re just left there staring with dead eyes at this poseur who mistakes playing devil’s advocate for intelligence, cheek resting on your fist, thinking about the fanfic you’re writing, wondering who it’s for, remembering that all your smut-writing friends get ten times the viewers, and considering throwing yourself in front of a bus.

Yeah, there’s a personal element to this: the fact that BioShock Infinite is the kind of art I like and long for and want to make myself, the fact that the game was successful and yet the studio was closed, the way its DLC was so rushed that the story plopped out like half-baked mystery meat—realizing that the same forced rush was at 2K’s behest for BioShock 2, as well, and wondering how good art can ever be made in this unforgiving capitalist hellscape. The game was weirdly niche and I’m not 100% sure I’ll ever experience anything quite like it again. And with the whiners in this fandom, the loud ones controlling the narrative, some fresh brain-dead exec in some brain-dead publisher might be like: “We must keep it safer and simpler for these fuckin babby adult!”

Nah bitch nah. Naaaah. Cry some more while I enjoy me my fucking dinner. I’ll eat it while making loud smacking noises and keeping unbroken eye contact. Come here. Let’s look at each other. It’ll be like Lady and the Tramp but we want to punch each other. What truer form of love can there be here in the modern world?

I keep having to remind myself that this response isn’t new. I keep having to remind myself of my place. I keep having to remind myself why I write, why I read, why I like to experience art to begin with. It’s not for the reasons other people do it. Oh, I want the same emotional release as everyone else, I want the same rollicking plots, I adore the same tropes. I seek out everything and anything for a good time; I’ll read Moby Dick today and a smutty 5,000-word abortion with the world’s most suspect grammar tomorrow. I don’t give a shit if it’s low- or high-brow; there are all kinds of ways to have fun and there are all kinds of ways to engage with art, and lord knows I’ve done my share of smooth-brain criticism. The problem is that I’ve always wandered off by myself, sunk into an all-consuming reverie, on tracks that no one else ever seems to be on, and then looked up to talk excitedly about something only to realize I’m alone. And whose fault is that?

By the same token, maybe I haven’t talked enough. Maybe I spend too much time with my mouth shut. Maybe I haven’t stood up enough for things that are worth our time, worth talking up, worth setting on pedestals.

I tell you, BioShock Infinite will stand the test of time. It’s too good for this. It’s too good for you, warts and all. Some of you will grow to understand that; some of you won’t; many of you will shrug and go on with your lives (and this is fine; it is only a video game). But I’ve truly not seen anything like it. I can’t believe a mainstream video game was allowed to be so fucking brutal about the American juggernaut, and what’s more, that it sold like hotcakes. Plus, I can’t think of any works in recent memory that have struck me so close to my own heart. No creative work has made me start beating a monster’s face into a washbasin for ten hours only to lift her by the scalp and see my own eyes looking back.

Look into those eyes. See your own stupid impulses pouring out. Your own stupid excuses, your violences, your sins—your claws, your teeth, your costumes, your hilarious attempts at interpretive dance. The beast doth protest too much.

O, monster—behold thyself—and tremble.

[dyslexicmammon]

Unwanted

Characters: Lucifer (Obey me!), Solomon (Obey me!) [not together]

CW// SFW, Angst ig? Yelling, Implied Lucifer x Mc, Implied Solomon x Mc, Nightbringer MC/attendant MC, You/Your pronouns used

A/N: Hiii~ I haven't written something in ages and I literally cannot remember how this drabble came about but, here you go. I couldn't find a way to end it because for me, Solomon is very hard to write for/about. The ending is open to add onto if you would like! uhhh idk what else to add. I'm gonna try and write more of my ideas since I'm having a hard time with art atm. Again this is just a short drabble lol

Chapter 2 / Ao3 / Divider Credit

“Here's some food Lucifer, you haven’t eaten all day and I’m worried- '' You were cut off by a groan. Lucifer rubbed his brow and with disdain in his voice “If I was hungry I would have come down to eat at the agreed times. I don’t need you out of all people to worry about me. Leave.” He touches his tongue with his gloved hand then goes to turn the page of the documents he’s currently working on, not daring to look up from his work. 

Tears well up in your eyes as you place the well-prepared food you had made for the ungrateful Avatar of Pride down on his desk. On your way out you accidentally slam his study door behind you. You suddenly get a ping on your D.D.D, with its familiar and expected buzz you knew it was Solomon “I’m waiting outside ❤ ️”. You begin to move away from Lucifer's study, sighing and clutching your D.D.D to your chest. You hear a faint call of your name from behind the door. Ignoring it, you begin to make your exit. 

The tears are having a hard time staying in as they desperately roll down your cheeks. In the main hall you spot Mammon and Beel who were talking about dinner. Desperately trying to go unrecognised by them you begin to walk further to the left of the hall you were now sharing. “Where do ya think you’re going mc??” Mammon reaches out to grab your arm. Without thinking you pull away, only sniffling in response. “Yeah we haven’t had dinner yet” Beel says with a sympathetic half smile. Wiping your tears aside and in a shaky voice you apologise to the hungry demon. Looking at him, hoping to see that compassionate smile you once knew from your long nights hanging out and eating snacks. Only to be met with a faint smile from the gluttonous demon.

Mammon laughs nervously, feeling the tension in the air then announces “It's okay Beel! We don’t need some attendant taking care of us! We got this!” and giving his brother a slap on the back. Feeling unwelcome from the 2 oldest brothers' attitude you pick up your pace once again and head straight for the front door. A couple moments pass or faint grumbles from both demons until you hear the Avatar of Greed as he runs and reaches for your hand “Hey! You haven’t had dinner yet either!”. Unable to hold back the tears anymore, a steady stream begins to trail down your face as you start crying uncontrollably. “You said it yourself! You can cook yourself and your brother's dinner just fine. You can also clean up after yourself. You don’t need me! so let go Mammon!” You had never raised your voice at any of them before. After pulling yourself free from his grasp, you exclaim “Solomon is taking me out to dinner & I have to go. Not that you people care if I’m here or not. Oh and don’t bother cooking for Lucifer either.” Suddenly looking up at the banister, like he had control over your body you noticed the demon himself. Trying to hide the panic in your eyes you wipe away your tears and swiftly begin your descent upon the front door once more, ready to brace the elements. “Have a nice night.” you say, your voice cracking a little before slamming the door behind you. 

With the tension seemingly broken by the wooden door now between you and the avatars the tears flow harder than ever before and the air becomes heavy in your lungs. That's when you hear light human footsteps rushing towards you. Solomon was now staring in shock. With his face merely inches away from your own. He quickly but gently wraps his arms around you and holds the back of your head. “Oh my, Mc what's happened? Why are you upset?” Responding to his touch, your arms snake around his chest as you wail into his shoulder. Hearing the demons on the other side fast approaching, he picks you up and casts a shield spell to protect you and silence the yells of a certain white haired demon.  

“Let's get you out of here my love, our date can wait” he quickly begins to escort you away from the HOL. You can hear faint yells from what you assume to be the brothers calling your name...

[ryuichirou]

I really love the lengthy analysis you wrote about Vil and Jamil in the past! Do you have anything similar to say about Riddle, if you haven't already? Or maybe about Riddle and Trey, if you're more comfortable with talking about relationships between characters.

Dear Anon, I am very happy you liked my analysis of these two! It’s been a while, I even forgot that I wrote it, so it’s insanely nice to hear that someone still reads these posts and enjoys them. As you might have already noticed (it seems to be my mission to keep repeating it to make sure no one ever forgets about it), I am not as speedy with my replies as I used to be, so this reply is long overdue. But I always have stuff to say about these boys, and Riddle very interesting and very dear to me as the boy who introduced us to how broken these boys are and how interestingly TWST plays with the theme of trauma.

We don’t post about him very often, but I like Riddle a lot. I think out of all of the housewardens he has the biggest vibe of a broken kid hidden behind his strong facade. I guess this is my way of saying that Riddle is the most childish out of all of them lol It shows not only in his tantrums (Ace compared him to a baby for a reason), but also in how obviously excited he gets when he sees anything that is fun; it’s like his inner kid reacts before Riddle composes himself and acts like he isn’t interested. We’ve seen a bunch of moments like this, I think. In a way, all of the overblot boys didn’t get to live through their childhood in a “normal” way, but Riddle expresses it in a very obvious way.

But it’s not only about cakes and games: Riddle is very immature emotionally too, and it’s hard to blame him for that, because let’s be honest: this is the first time Riddle deals with people. Isolation is a difficult thing to come back from, and if you shove a heavily sheltered boy into an high school/college and put him in a position of housewarden, of course he’s going to act like a little dictator: this is the only way to assert authority he’s ever seen. And since Riddle himself is a good kid (i.e. a kid who is terribly afraid of making his mother angry) and doesn’t misbehave, he is completely unequipped of dealing with a whole dorm of teenagers who aren’t very good or excited to live by the Queen’s Rules. Even those who don’t want to cause trouble can’t remember all of them, they’re basically written in a way that are meant to sabotage you, but Riddle would never acknowledge that: if he learned them, others must too, otherwise they just didn’t try enough. But they just won’t listen, and Riddle gets frustrated instantly: it’s them who are unreasonable, not him!

Of course it is a metaphor and an exaggeration, but I think Riddle portrays a very real thing that a lot of us have either seen or experienced. His standards for himself aren’t just high, they’re absolutely unreasonable, but this is his entire reality and he can’t even see that this isn’t how things are for the rest of the world. He’s like a little goldfish (lol) who lived in a tiny aquarium for its entire life and then got transferred into an ocean without any kind of adaptation or even a quarantine. Riddle is already a second year, but I think the shock of everything around him still hasn’t gone away completely, partially because Riddle spends a lot of time stubbornly ignoring the feeling that he is the one in the wrong. If he is wrong, than mother is also wrong, and that can’t be – this is the only thing he is sure of.

You know, there are some people who really enjoy having a system of rules in their head, or rather principles, and it gives them a very valuable and helpful structure (even if that system of rules/principles isn’t perfect and backfires sometimes). Vil is that kind of person, Sebek is that kind of person... Riddle isn’t. I genuinely think Riddle is the type of person who would enjoy living without a set of rules, but with basic logic to help him navigate the world; does that make sense? Anyways, unfortunately, Riddle can’t live without a manual: he never learned how to. We see it both in his book and in book 6, when he shocks Azul over and over again by just how rigid he is.

Speaking of which, I love that Riddle didn’t have a 180 degree turn after his book. Of course, it’s partially because we have to keep the status quo intact a little bit, and he wouldn’t be the personification of the Queen if he didn’t have his rules; but I also think this is very true to life. Just like the boys said at the end of the book 1, you don’t have to change everything at ones, taking baby steps is okay.

But taking baby steps also means that you will keep bumping into issues and conflicts, which is crucial for growth, but also could make Azul fucking Ashengrotto say that he will beat the shit out of you if you won’t shut up lol

Their entire dynamic in book 6 was very good. Both Azul and Riddle are horribly stubborn, obsessive freaks, but for entirely different reasons and in very different ways. And both of them have their guard up, but interestingly? I think Riddle is better at trusting people and being genuine about his feelings or thoughts about them than Azul. Maybe he’s made a better progress than Azul in that sense, maybe he’s always been better, but this is what I mean: Riddle doesn’t mind genuinely complimenting Azul for his achievements, and a lot of time he didn’t even mean to offend Azul with his remarks. To Azul, however, every compliment is given with a reason and every snarky comment is given to metaphorically push someone down the stairs. Both of them have a lot to learn though lol but it’s fun to see them working through this misunderstanding and actually working together.

You asked about Trey; and honestly, even though we kind of liked him from the beginning, we didn’t think much about him (mostly because we met the rest of the characters whom we were very excited about). But the more I think about Trey, the more I get amused by how much of a dark horse he is. I feel like Trey’s forced neutrality and desire to stay “hidden” from any kind of event or conflict or attention at all is interesting: it’s subtle, but it’s definitely there. He has this inoffensive image of a good and caring older brother type, and it’s true that he is caring and supportive, but it’s also isn’t entirely out of his desire to do good things. I’m not saying that he is an asshole, but he isn’t like Silver or Kalim, if that makes sense, he doesn’t have this hero-like desire for everyone to be happy or to protect the weak no matter what and to help out everyone: whether Trey wants to admit it or not, he has his priorities. And I feel like Trey doesn’t even want to necessarily be “the good guy”, he really just wants to be “the normal guy”, and sometimes “the normal guy people could rely on”.

What I wanted to say by that is that Riddle is Trey’s main priority no matter what. I’m stating the obvious, but this is why he didn’t protect Ace and Deuce (who were in Heartslabyul for less than a week) from him, this is why he kept asking everyone to just be patient with Riddle and to tolerate the way he treats everyone. Because it was more important for him to protect Riddle and to avoid him feeling like he does the wrong thing.

And while it’s partially due to Trey’s personality and his relationship with Riddle, I feel like Trey is also kind of traumatised by what happened back then. Not to the degree that Riddle is traumatised of course, but it’s probably tough for someone who’s always been a good kid to get yelled at by someone else’s mother for hours for doing something that you believe wasn’t even bad. I think Trey feels extremely guilty because he knows that whatever he felt, Riddle had it even worse. So it’s not surprising that he is terrified of hurting Riddle even more: every time he looks at the way he acts, he knows that it’s a result of him being abused. I’m stating the obvious here lol but I like that Trey is stuck in this “sorry, but I will keep hurting all of you because not hurting him is more important”.

We watched Ghost Marriage Event recently (haven’t seen the vignettes and voice lines yet) and I think it’s very interesting that it was kind of tied to the Trey/Riddle situation, which Ace even directly addressed. We even got Trey (and Cater too, to be fair) going yikes because he felt called out by what Ace was saying to Chubby about the way he treated Eliza. Even if you love someone, you can’t just let that person get away with hurting others. Even if you think it will keep them happy, it will never help them in a way you think it will. Riddle gets hurt by staying a tyrant that everyone despises, and Trey knows that he does, but doing that important step of stopping him and having a talk with him is too scary to even consider. This is why he needed that wakeup call from Ace of all people.

I guess that makes Ace more emotionally mature than Trey and Riddle both in a way lol

Anyways, I love their relationship a lot, and even though I’ve mostly been talking about the very basis of their relationship, I think there is a lot to explore with these two.

[storiesofsvu]

Christmas Admirer

Elizabeth Donnelly x reader warnings: language, argument, minor stalking. Look! I did a thing! Thank you for the ko-fi and the request!! I hope this lives up to expectations lol. Covers the "fight before xmas" square for bingo. I'm slowly getting back into it y'all! I wanted to get a lot more done for bingo but I hate to admit I don't think I'm gonna get much done, which sucks. I still have the creative spurts but I think I'm so wrapped up in NCIS that other characters have fallen down the list lol. I'll do my best to get the more developed ideas out for bingo! Love y'all!

The first time it happened, you didn’t think a thing about it. Liz always had new staff in the early fall, clerks, paralegals, assistants, secretaries, baby prosecutors that you hadn’t met yet. Those who had graduated college and wanted some on the job experience before law school, those who had graduated law school and were killing time before being able to write the Bar. There was never a shortage of strange faces around Hogan Place, so you breezed through the halls with no worries, a handful of files tucked under your arm and two coffees balanced in your hand as you approached her office door.

“I wouldn’t!” The voice rang out from the desk situated outside of Liz’s office and you stalled in your steps, letting out a small laugh.

“I’m sure it’s fine. She’s expecting me.”

“That was probably before she found out Anderson lied about having a warrant.” The man winced slightly and you let out a sigh right before Liz’s voice boomed through the glass, clearly upset and about to tear Anderson a new one.

“Guess so.” You dropped down into a chair opposite the man’s desk, placing the coffees down on it, files on your lap as you tugged out your phone. “This the only headache she’s had to deal with today?”

“Aside from the damage control that’ll go along with it, I think so.”

“Great.” Your head tilted back as you let out a groan, there went your dinner plans.

You didn’t catch it, the way his eyes were lingering on you, examining the folders in your lap, recognizing them as legal ones, an NYPD logo stamped on the second one in the pile just peeking its way out. How he was putting together that you were in the legal field, but no badge or gun meant you weren’t a cop. How casual you were in the space meant you’d been here plenty of times before. His gaze dragged up your body, watching your hand reach out for your coffee cup, nearly frowning that you were using your right, your left hidden under the pile of files and he’d have to resort to a verbal tactic to figure out more.

“How long has Anderson been in there?” You asked, swallowing down your coffee.

“Oh, uh? Only a few minutes before you got here.” He replied, “I could always take a message Mrs…?”

You barked out a laugh, turning toward him with a grin on your face, “please, it’s Ms. Parker.” He stuck his hand out over his desk and you took it, shaking while he smiled.

“Thomas, it’s nice to meet you.”

Your eyes surveyed him for a minute, flicking around the room before you spoke, “you got a nice looking name plate,” you gestured to the desk, “you’ve either been here a while or you’re planning on it.”

“Hoping to be.” He shifted in his chair, sitting more upright, “figured this was the best way to save up for law school.” He laughed awkwardly, “not that I’m freshly graduated or anything, I just didn’t figure things out right away, you know?”

“I do.” You laughed, glancing back towards Liz’s door where you could barely hear Anderson stammering along as she continued to lecture him.

“She always this intense?”

“Depends.” You picked up your coffee, taking another swig, “but Anderson… he’s annoying. He’s one of those ones that has an excuse for literally everything and none of them are valid. He’ll never own up to his actions or accept the consequences and shit like that pisses her off even more. If this case sinks, he’s done for.”

A small pause in the conversation while you both tried to eavesdrop and ignore the argument on the other side of the office wall before he spoke again, “sounds like you’ve known Donnelly a while.”

“Five years, give or take.” You replied, picking up your coffee again.

Though it was the last two that were the most significant, a year of back and fourth flirtation whenever you ran into each other until Melinda practically dragged you to some gala she was forced to attend and one thing led to another and confessions of true feelings were whispered into the night. You’d never expected to fall in love with someone like Liz and you’d definitely never thought someone like her would fall in love with you, yet here you were.

“Bet you know all the best ways to make it into her good books.” Thomas practically teased and you laughed.

“Work hard, pay attention, be ready on your feet and up to date as you can be on any open or upcoming cases. She’s big on loyalty, don’t let her catch you fraternizing with the enemy or sweet talking other departments or firms. If you’re thinking about switching jobs, let her know up front and she’ll give you the glowing recommendation you deserve, but if you do it behind her back, your options will be limited. Don’t be a suck up, but on a really bad day, the shrimp scampi from Forlini’s is a life saver,” you were suddenly cut off as the door flew open and Anderson came scurrying by without bothering to stop and you glanced back to Thomas, “and her coffee order is an Americano or drip with two packets of sweetener.” You picked up the untouched coffee, placing it down directly in front of him as you stood from your seat, “but I have a feeling she doesn’t need any more adrenaline boosts today and you just might.” You shot him a wink before scooping up your own coffee and stepping towards Liz’s ajar door, knocking on the frame.

“What?” She snapped as you pushed it open, offering her a warm smile and she let out a sigh from where she sat behind her desk, “sorry.”

“No need.” You swung the door shut behind you, moving through the room.

“What’re you doing here?” She asked softly, hand reaching out to squeeze at yours as you perched on the side of her desk.

“Had lunch with Sophie.” You shrugged, dropping the pile of files into her inbox, “figured I’d save her the ten minute drive.”

“One of these days you’re going to remember you’re a writer and not my assistant.” She teased as you leant down to steal a kiss.

“Speaking of…” you glanced behind you to the closed door, “you’ve got a new one.”

“He’s competent so far.” She sighed, leaning back in her chair, “unlike fucking Anderson.” You laughed, squeezing at her shoulder.

“He’s been in the hotseat for nearly a year, it’s about time they let him go.” You frowned slightly, “but I am guessing this means our dinner plans are off?”

Liz let out a heavy sigh, pinching at the bridge of her nose as she muttered “this is why I hate this job sometimes.” She glanced up at you, “yes.” Taking both of your hands in hers she smiled at you, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t spoil you. You go home, I’ll send dinner to your place, dessert too, and probably another million little gifts.”

“Liz, you really don’t have to.” You giggled, leaning down to kiss her.

“No sweetheart, I really do. We made these plans a while ago and I know how much you were looking forward to them.”

“Alright,” you slid off her desk, “fine. I’ll accept delicious, free dinner and treats but you better send me a picture of your dinner too, even if it’s in your office. I need you to not forget to eat.”

“And you really think you don’t take care of me?” She grinned up at you and you giggled again when she pulled you back to her for another kiss, “thank you for understanding.”

“Always.” You smiled, “and hey, don’t be too hard on that kid out there, he doesn’t seem so bad.”

“As long as he’s not Anderson.” She replied with an eye roll and you pulled the door open with a laugh, shooting a wave and a smile to Thomas as you sped through the office, leaving the room fast enough that you missed the way he ducked his gaze and his cheeks flushed pink.

**

The second time it happened, you were none the wiser, more focussed on getting your daily tasks done through the first snowfall of the year.

“God it is freezing out there.” You grumbled, letting out a little shiver as you shook the snow off your shoulders, “hope you guys have the heat on.” You reached out, placing a coffee cup down on Thomas’ desk.

“Got a portable one under my desk.” He replied with a slightly bashful smile.

“Good.” You shot him a wink, wrapping your hands around your own coffee and letting out a warm sigh.

“If it’s that cold out you should really have gloves on.”

“I know.” You groaned, rolling your eyes, “my friend’s dog chewed through my last pair this weekend, haven’t gotten around to a shopping trip yet.”

“She doesn’t give you any time off?” He asked with a frown, nodding toward Liz’s door and you laughed.

“She’s not my boss.” You tugged around in your purse for a moment, pulling out a business card, “I write kid’s books… well, primarily. I’ve been known to dabble into true crime too.”

He took the card from you, studying it for a minute before looking back up at you, “oh, that’s really cool. And… wildly different departments.”

You laughed, smiling softly at Thomas, “yeah, I guess they balance each other out well enough. Gotta splash some colour in that drab, cruel world, ya know?”

“Yeah.” He twirled the card around in his fingers, placing it down next to his cup of pens, “I’d love to pick your brain about it.”

“Really?” Your smile widened, taken aback by someone showing genuine interest into what you spent your time doing.

“Yeah. I’ll even buy you a drink, or a coffee, for your time? Tonight?”

“I can’t tonight.” Your nose scrunched and Thomas thought it was the cutest thing he’d seen all month, “got a thing. Friday?”

“Yeah, yeah! That’s perfect.”

“Well,” grinning, you gestured toward the card, “you’ve got my number.”

You scooped up your coffee, briefly knocking on Liz’s door before entering her office, letting the door swing shut behind you as you crossed the room.

“You’re late.” She chastised, half teasing while you leant over to kiss her cheek, your hand resting just past the collar of her shirt and she winced, “and your hands are freezing! What did I tell you about buying new gloves?”

“I’ll get around to it.” You rolled your eyes, laughing softly, “and how am I late if all I’m doing is playing errand boy for you?”

“Cleaners’ only open until three today.” She replied with a shrug pulling a claim ticket out of her desk and passing it to you.

“Good thing it’s only one then.” You replied with a grin, swiping the tag from her and popping it into your purse. “Your dress will be in one piece and ready to go at my place once you’re done here. You’ll have just enough time to go over your speech before we head out.”

“You’re a life saver.” She tugged you back to her to steal a kiss, wincing again at the temperature of your fingers. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

You got home with Liz’s dry cleaning over your arm and take out in your other (still bare) hand to find a gift bag sitting outside of your apartment door. You managed to scoop it up and once you got inside you discovered two pairs of very warm, cozy and luxurious gloves inside. A smile crept onto your cheeks and your body relaxed with warmth at the thought of Liz thinking of you on an already crammed busy day.

**

The third time you were slowly starting to pick up on it but brushed it off as friendliness. Thomas had agreed to buy you a drink to pick your brain over your work and you were more than excited to have someone who wasn’t your agent or publisher to talk to about the creative thoughts flying through your brain. You spent more than a few hours at a small table in the corner of a bar picking over appetizers and a few cocktails while you got to know each other a bit more. Thomas was new to town, spent the majority of his time working and thus didn’t really have a lot of friends in the city yet. You tried to pay for your half of the tab but he insisted it was his treat and you weren’t about to complain. When he offered to walk you home you figured he was just being friendly, cautious as a man should be about letting their companion go on alone at night in New York. You didn’t have to argue too much as you already had a car coming and assured that you would text once you were home safe.

**

The fourth time things started to happen you were so wrapped up in the holiday season you wouldn’t have noticed even if you had been looking for it. All of your shopping was done online to avoid crowded stores, there were small piles of packages outside your door daily, more Christmas cards than you could count flowing through your mail box. An array of little gifts from Liz, some signed with her initials, some wrapped with a ‘do not open until Christmas’ warnings, others bare in their Amazon boxes. Some were shipped, some were dropped off and it seemed to change every week.

Flowers, chocolates and candy were frequently left at your work desk, a treat for the entire office, trinkets from fans or avid readers, it was just what happened this time of year. It didn’t matter if it didn’t have a card, it was just a little boost to get through the cold snap and into the new year.

Figuring you should get a start on wrapping the gifts you were giving you started to sort through the boxes littered underneath the tree, finding a surprising amount of things that had been on your public wish list. You were stuck in an internal battle between setting a reminder to thank Liz in the morning or not mention anything considering they were likely supposed to be Christmas gifts and you eventually decided on the latter.

Just as you were finishing up, putting the final bow on the final present there was a knock at your door and you were surprised with dinner from your favourite place. You were a little taken a back with this one, considering it was one of the pricier places you really adored, but hey, it was Christmas time, Liz was working late and cancelled a date night, you weren’t going to complain about a pricey apology.

**

The fifth time it happened Thomas had been away from his desk when you arrived, you figured he was already gone for the night and headed straight to Liz’s office. That was where you discovered that she was having the utter day from hell, more than one prosecutor getting served thanks to playing out of line during their current cases. Meaning she now had to comb through both of their cases from start to where they were currently to find any violations, possibly take them over herself and help them find the appropriate counsel for the suits being filed.

She apologized profusely, promising that she would make it up to you later that weekend and you simply smiled, nodding gently and pressing a kiss to her cheek. You’d known what level of workload she had when you started dating and you reminded her that you knew this wasn’t exactly work from home over a glass of wine type of work. Reluctantly, you finally left her office, quietly shutting the door on your way out before your eyes flicked up and you spotted Thomas back at his desk beginning to pack things up.

“Figured you’d left already.” You greeted with a small smile.

“Oh, just a few last minute things she needed me to take over. Done now.” His eyes slowly raked up your body, taking in the heels, form fitting dress, jewelry and curled hair and he gulped, “you look… nice.”

“Thanks.” You huffed out a laugh, “dinner plans.”

“You didn’t get roped into this somehow, did you?” He asked, gesturing towards Liz’s office.

“Oh no.” You shook your head, pulling your phone out of your pocket when it pinged to read the text message and let out another sigh, “but my date did cancel on me.”

“Really? It’s practically Christmas.”

“Meh, happens.” You shrugged, pocketing your phone again.

“You know… I was just on my way out; my plan was leftover pizza. If you maybe wanted some company, we could grab a bite?” He offered and you hummed over it for a moment.

“You sure?”

“’Course.”

“That’d honestly be really nice, I’ve been cooped up alone in my home office all week and was looking forward to the company.” You glanced up to him, “but I’m paying this time!”

“Not after you got stood up.” He chuckled and you let out a small laugh.

“I had reservations at Trattoria Dell’Arte, it’s not exactly cheap. Let me get it.”

“Only if I take care of the drinks.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

You likely would have noticed that he was flirting, not just being friendly if you hadn’t been so preoccupied up in your head. Between both of your jobs you and Liz hadn’t managed to see that much of each other recently and you were beginning to second guess yourself, thinking that she was simply just too tired to want to bother seeing you after a long week. That the extra work was a welcomed excuse to have to take a rain check yet again.

Instead you played nice, laughed at most of his jokes and contributed the best you could over dinner. Spending time with him wasn’t bad, he was decent enough company you didn’t mind it, you just would have preferred your girlfriend. He did try to snag the dinner bill but you were quicker, taking care of it on the way back from the restroom, leaving him with the agreed upon bottle of wine to settle up.

He once again offered to walk you home, or at least split a cab and you agreed on the latter considering it was a chillier night and you didn’t want either of you to get caught out in the snow. The heavier the incoming storm got, the fewer cabs there would be out on the streets, so it didn’t even cross your mind. You thought nothing of the rose he presented to you after you flagged down the cab considering the street peddler was pushy, the assertive in your face type that wouldn’t take no for an answer until you’d agreed to buy something from them. You’d even both laughed about it on the way home, talking about how guys like that used to target tourists more than the locals and when you reached your apartment you thanked him for the fun evening and hoped he had a great rest of his weekend.

With your back turned you missed the way his eyes followed you all the way up to the entrance to your building, a small smile on his cheeks as the fantasies began to play through his head, some of which were already playing out in real life right in front of him.

**

Stepping out of the cab you cautiously jogged up the stairs to Liz’s brownstone, careful to avoid the ice in your heels, coat open and flowing behind you as you briefly stopped to ring the bell before letting yourself in.

“I’ll be five minutes!” Her voice rang through from her upstairs office, “make yourself a drink.”

“Okay.” You called back, wiping off your shoes and shrugging off your coat to be hung on one of the hallway hooks.

Liz’s house was no stranger to you, it was your home away from home, a place you spent many weekends curled in her arms on the couch or tangled in her bedsheets as the sun crept in through the curtains. It felt homier that your apartment, the place you often opted to work from home when you needed to, the long days that she worked that you missed her, wanted to still feel surrounded by her even if she didn’t come home until long after you were asleep.

You crossed the living room to the bar cart, pouring yourself a gin and tonic to pass the time while she finished whatever it was she was doing. Sipping on the beverage you pulled your phone from your pocket, scrolling through a couple of apps and replying to a couple of messages while your gaze was distracted out the window, watching the snowfall start to get thicker, coating the streets with white fluff.

“Well don’t you look absolutely stunning.” Liz’s voice broke through the silence of the room and you turned back to her with a small laugh, the smile staying on your warm cheeks as she approached you. Her hand cupped your cheek, pulling you to her for a tender kiss that you couldn’t help but relax into.

“Thank you.” You smiled across at her, “figured I should look a little extra nice considering how many nights we’ve missed recently.”

“You know you don’t have to dress up for me.” Liz replied with a small smile, kissing your cheek gently as she squeezed at your hand, “but I do deeply appreciate it.” Her fingers tangled with yours, pulling your hand up to her lips to lay a kiss on the back of it.

“With the amount you spoil me it’s the least I could do.” You replied with a quiet laugh, draining your drink before placing the cup down on a side table. Liz hummed, her eyes dropping to your bracelet on the arm she still held up. Her gaze focused on it, eyes narrowing slightly as she examined it, her brow beginning to furrow. “What?” You asked, heart picking up in your chest as you watched her expression harden.

“This bracelet… it’s awfully personal.” Her hand dropped yours before circling your wrist, twisting your arm back and fourth to examine the jewelry.

“It’s my birthstone, yeah.” You laughed awkwardly “surrounded by yours.”

Her eyes examined it for a moment longer, pulling your wrist closer until she let out a small huff, “that’s not blue topaz, those are diamonds. They’re pulling the light from the sapphires, where did you get this?”

“You.” You chuckled again, feeling your heartbeat pick up in your chest, “one of those little secret Santa gifts you’ve been leaving.”

“It’s not from me.”

“Liz, there’ve been so many packages delivered I can’t even keep track of them, you probably ordered it months ago and forgot.”

“That’s Buccellati. I think I would remember spending that much money on you.” She scoffed, dropping your arm as she turned from you with an eye roll. “And half of those gifts were a don’t open until Christmas.”

“I just said I couldn’t keep track.” You retorted, feeling the annoyance beginning to build up through your veins.

“And I know that’s not from me.” She replied, frustration bubbling up inside of her, she’d been dealing with so much already she’d just wanted to have a nice night out and now this was ruining everything. Then again, maybe things had been ruined before she’d even realized, “diamonds mean someone born in April, or someone that likes you an awful lot and you don’t keep in touch with any family and not to offend but none of your friends could afford that.”

“I told you, it’s from you.” Your voice hardened and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Come on y/n, you’re better than that. That’s the oldest lie in the book.” She picked up a bottle of scotch, pouring out a few ounces and taking a swig as she spoke, “go around galivanting with someone else and when you get caught gaslight your partner into thinking it was them all along.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been so distant!” Her voice raised ever so lightly, tensing as she spoke, her mouth tightening in that all too familiar pissed off way. “I’ve barely seen you all month, you always wait until the morning to call me back, your texts are far and few in between and the few times I’ve tried to stop by your apartment you’re out! God.” She shook her head with a heavy laugh, “I don’t know how I didn’t put it together earlier that you were seeing someone else.”

“Did you just accuse me of cheating on you?!” Anger jolted through you as you immediately saw red, an offended scoff leaving your lips.

“Well how else would you explain it!?” Her hands flailed in your general direction.

“You’re the one who keeps cancelling fucking dates Liz! I’ve been completely accommodating of your work schedule and how demanding it’s been recently. You’ve barely seen me because you keep blowing me off! Sorry that I’m not at your beck and call, I was trying to give you space and time to regroup from work! I didn’t realize I was supposed to mope around my apartment and wait for you to find a sliver of time for me, sorry that I have other friends to spend time with who actually give a shit.”

“So you admit you’ve been seeing someone?”

“I’m not fucking doing this.” Your hands shot up in surrender, “you’re being insane all over a fucking bracelet.”

“A seven thousand dollar bracelet!” She snapped back, “what would you like to do, go through my bank records?”

“No.” Grabbing your coat you headed for the door, “you can do that yourself and wake up from this fucking delusion where I would cheat on you. I cannot believe you would ever accuse me of something like that, I thought you trusted me!”

The door was pulled open and you were halfway down the steps by the time she called after you, “fine! Walk out on another fucking date, no surprise there!”

**

Christmas Eve was finally upon you and instead of being out celebrating like you thought you would be, you were curled up in the bay window of your apartment watching the snow coat the city in a thick blanket. The remnants of Chinese takeout splayed across the coffee table while the television blared quietly in the background, some marathon of holiday movies still going.

Letting out a heavy sigh you picked up the bottle of wine from beside you, topping up your glass before taking a sip as your gaze redirected out into the night once again. You hadn’t heard from Liz in nearly two weeks, the two of you no doubt trapped in a game of ‘Say Uncle’, waiting for the other to admit they were wrong before any reconciling could begin. It wasn’t the first time you’d fought and if things started moving forward again you were certain it wouldn’t be the last, she was strong willed and always would be. You were hoping that this time in light of the holiday season maybe you would be getting an apology but it appeared she was digging her heels in, burying herself in work while trying to push the image of you with another woman out of her head rather than talking her way through it.

You’d spent some time thinking about it, imagining the last couple of months from Liz’s point of view and you were starting to maybe see where she was coming from. There had been more time apart than usual, more nights of cancelled dates spent apart rather than her coming home late from work to find you making her home warm and welcoming. You’d been busy, actually accepting the offers for holiday parties and meet ups with friends in town for the season rather than sitting around bored at home. But you reminded yourself that just because she might have had the excuse to be suspicious didn’t mean the argument and her accusation was justified.

Letting out another sigh as you sucked back your wine you were debating reheating some leftover Chinese, your stomach beginning to rumble when your attention was pulled to the door. Your head tilted for a moment, wondering if you were hearing things from the television or not but the second knocking came though loud and clear. A small groan escaped your lips as you untangled yourself from the blanket, stretching out stiff muscles as you padded through your apartment to the door, pulling it open to a very lavish bouquet of poinsettias and red and white roses, it was only after a moment that you realized who was holding it.

“Thomas?” You let out a huff, “seriously, she’s making you do her bidding on Christmas Eve? You deserve a break, and a raise. If she can’t be bothered to drop them off herself I don’t want them.”

“Her?” He asked with a tilt of the head.

“Liz.” You rolled your eyes, “I knew she liked having minions to do shit like this but this is so not cool.”

“Ms. Donnelly?” His nose scrunched, “no, these are from me.”

“Oh.” You stalled in your movement, taking a step back from the door to open it wider, “I guess… come in then.”

“Thanks.” He flashed you a smile, quickly stepping into the apartment, following you so he could place the bouquet down on the kitchen island.

“You know, you really didn’t have to bring me anything.”

“Well, you’re pretty big on Christmas, aren’t you?” He gestured around your apartment, eyes sweeping through the decorations, the large tree in the corner with piles of gifts wrapped underneath it, “everyone deserves a little bit of holiday cheer.”

“Yeah.” You sighed, smiling softly across from him.

“Besides, after I saw you were actually wearing the bracelet the last time you swung through the office I figured I should stop playing secret Santa and reveal myself.” His eyes flicked down to your wrist and a frown took over his face, “but… you’re not wearing it now.”

“Hmph,” you mumbled over a sip of wine, “Liz and I got into a big fight over it, kinda left a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Oh…” He stuttered a moment, wringing his hands while he gathered his words and you took another sip of your drink, “I thought it looked quite nice. You know, my birthday’s in April, always thought diamonds and sapphires complimented each other well.”

The wine glass in your hand paused halfway back to the kitchen island and you did your best to not let it show on your face as ice began to run through your veins. The wheels were spinning in your brain, trying to make it make sense and if there was ever a moment to trust your gut, you knew this was it. Before you could fully process everything Thomas spoke again,

“I like what you did with the shadowboxes,” he gestured to the wall above the television, “they had them in your favourite colour too, but I thought that might clash with the rest of the room. I’m glad the silver looks so nice.”

“Thanks…” The glass finally met the island gently as your fingers slipped off it, gripping the edge of the counter.

“Oh and that blanket!” His eyes lit up with excitement when he saw the one you’d previously been curled up in, “isn’t it the softest thing you’ve ever felt?” You nodded slowly, “bought one for myself when I picked it up.” He was nearly two steps into your living room by the time you found your voice, clearing your throat before you spoke.

“Hey Thomas…”

“Yeah?” He whipped around, a gleam in his eye and wide smile on his face.

“How did you know where I live?” You asked slowly, keeping your tone calm and cool in an attempt to keep him in the same mood he was in currently, completely unaware that the hair on the back of your neck was standing up.

“After our date at Trattoria we shared a cab.” He reminded you, “dropped you off first.”

“Date…” You nodded slowly, an unsure smile on your lips.

“Well,” he laughed, “I guess it would’ve been more of a date if you’d let me pay for dinner, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Uh-huh.” You picked up your wine glass again, taking another sip as you watched him take in your apartment, “you know, my name’s not on a buzzer. You go knocking on everyone’s doors?”

“Nope.” He smiled brightly over at you, “told the cabbie to wait that night, wanting to make sure you got in alright. I saw your light flick on when you got in, just did my own investigative work to figure out which suite was yours.”

“I’ll add detective to your resume.” You gently teased and he chuckled, his fingers trailing over the back of your couch while his eyes dragged through your living room.

“Chow mein noodles…” he muttered, “I should’ve known.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head at himself, “hope you didn’t mind the shanghai ones I had sent over.”

“Hmm?” Your brow raised in his direction as your stomach began to churn.

“A couple of weeks ago.” He laughed softly, “you said you were dreading cooking dinner so I thought I’d help out a bit.”

“That was you…” You asked with a breath, feeling your heart starting to thud heavily in your chest.

“Well yeah.” He smiled brightly, “who else would it be?”

“Tell me something… how many times have you sent stuff to my apartment?”

“Food? At least once a week, I mean, you can’t forget to eat, it’s important.”

“Sure is.”

“The other stuff? Depended.” He shrugged, “I figured it’s Christmas so you should get treated a little more than usual, flowers, treats. I went through your Amazon list,” he nodded toward the tree, “though I’m figuring some of that’s still under there.”

“Okay, but why?”

“Because you deserve it.” He stepped toward you and you fought every instinct in your brain to step back, not wanting to get a negative response out of him, “you’re so beautiful, so kind and sweet. I mean, it didn’t take much to fall in love with you.”

“Oh Thomas I—”

“Was I too secretive with my Santa game?” He laughed, “did you not realize they were all from me?”

“No.. no I did not.”

“Well, surprise.” He replied with a sheepish grin, “I was your secret admirer.”

“I didn’t even realize I had one.” You replied with an awkward laugh, praying that he would stay the two feet away from you he currently was.

“What’d you mean?” He asked, his face falling, “who did you think they were from?”

“Well, to be completely honest, Liz.”

“Ms. Donnelly?” His face scrunched, “why would any of them be from her?”

“Because I am her girlfriend.” Liz’s voice growled through the apartment and you jumped, having not realized the door had never been shut behind Thomas. You had no idea how long she had been standing there or how much she had heard but one thing was clear; she was absolutely livid. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

“It’s practically Christmas.” He gestured around, “I thought that was the best time to make romantic declarations.”

“Is that so?” Liz asked, her brow raising before whatever was in her hands found home on the entry way table and a dark gleam took over her eyes. “How about I tell you what the best thing to do is right now?” She stepped towards him and he visibly gulped, “you’re going to get the hell out of here and you’re never going to set foot on this block ever again. If I so much as catch a glimpse of you attempting to nose your way into her life, I’ll sick Stabler on you, understood?”

“Yes Ms. Donnelly.” He nodded, shrinking around himself as he ducked his gaze, attempting to step around her to get over to the door.

“And I think it’s very clear you don’t need to show up at work after the holidays, you’re fired. Don’t expect any good references either.”

She followed him toward the door, making sure he was scurrying his way to the stairs before she swung it shut behind him, flicking the lock for extra security. Her eyes closed for a moment and she took a deep breath before turning to you, noticing the way you were clutching the counter so tight your knuckles were white.

“Are you alright?” She asked, her voice impeccably soft as she cautiously stepped toward you, a hand soothing its way up your arm and you looked up at her, a slight shake in your voice.

“Kinda feel like I’m gonna be sick.” You ran your hand over your face, letting out a low breath, “god I was so stupid, how could I not realize?” You leant back into the counter, “I really did think it was you sending me everything.”

“Everything?” Her brow raised as her arm wound around your waist, pulling you to her so she could leave a soft kiss on your temple. “It wasn’t just the flowers?”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at the lavish bouquet that you wanted nothing more than to toss in the garbage, “he’s been sending me things for months, and I don’t even know what was him and what was you.”

“Has he been following you?” She asked, worry taking over her voice.

“I dunno.” You shrugged, “we split a cab after drinks one night, dropped me off first but who knows, that was probably part of the plan.”

“I thought I was going overboard mentioning Stabler but now I’m starting to think it may be a good idea.” Her eyes swept through your apartment, taking in all the new trinkets that hadn’t been there the last time she was, “I’m going to get him to run Thomas’ name, do a more thorough background check, and let’s get you out of here, you’re staying at my place until New Years.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She squeezed at your hand.

“You’re not…  mad anymore?” You asked and her face fell before she let out a weary sigh, shaking her head.

“Absolutely not. I was over worked and stressed and came to a very wrong conclusion when I should have seen how suspicious that was from a different angle.”

“You know I’d never cheat on you, right?” You couldn’t help the tears swimming into your eyes, both at the question and the fact that you were pretty shaken up considering your evening.

“Oh sweetheart.” Liz stepped forward again, her hands cupping your cheeks as she leant in to kiss you, her lips brushing against yours while she spoke, “of course I do. I know how much you love me and I love you even more than you could imagine. I’m so sorry I said those terrible things. You’re the greatest partner I could ask for, always so understanding when I have to shuffle things around, I should be praising the ground you walk on.”

“Okay well now you’re going overboard.” You let out a watery laugh, smiling as you leant forward to kiss her again.

“Nonsense.” She kissed the tip of your nose, “my girl deserves the absolute best.”

“The absolute best would be getting the fuck out of here; I feel like I need to burn half my belongings.” You shuddered and she squeezed at your shoulders, directing you toward the door.

“Grab what you need. We can come back in a couple of days to sort through everything and figure out what came from that creep and what I had sent over.”

“Okay.” You slipped into your coat, grabbing your bag grabbing Liz quickly before she ushered you out the door “thank you. I love you.”

“I love you more sweetheart.”

You’d fully calmed down a couple of hours later, curled up in Liz’s arms on her couch at her very comfortable and very private brownstone. A warm glow casted from the fully decorated tree in the corner, the main source of light in the room as Christmas movies played on the television and fluffy snowflakes drifted through the air outside. You let out a soft sigh, burrowing further into her embrace and in return her arm squeezed at you, her lips brushing against your hairline as the curved up into a smile. You both knew that no matter what the world threw at you, you had each other, you were safe and loved and there was no one else you’d rather spend the holidays or your lives with.

__________________

@svulife-rl @mickey-gomez @yesterdaysgone @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @alexxavicry @rainbowelshrhian @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 @kdaghay @svushots @onmykneesformarvel @kalixxh @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @louderfortheback @noahrex @temp0rary-bliss @wittygutsy @imlike-so-gaydude @gay-frogs08 @baubeautyandthegeek

[jaemmphilia]

★ 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ★ || b.c

★ summary: after chris and y/n share a sloppy moment in chris' office, neither of them can deny the natural chemistry between them. chris, in a moment of confidence and mild lust, asks y/n out on a date. y/n agrees, not once thinking about his ex, shinwon. so why is that loser texting him to meet up while y/n is making out with chris on the couch?

★ characters: bahng christopher, choi y/n, lee minho, seo changbin, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, lee felix, kim seungmin, yang jeongin

★ warnings: language, protected sex (they have decided to be responsible), chan being the absolute cutest, minho being a menace, seungmin being seungmin, jeongin being baby, uhh let me know if i forgot anything

★word count: ~7.4K

★binnie's thoughts: the second part to my chan fic, i felt like i needed to write something softer to balance out the filth of the first part, i hope its as good as the first part lol i also totally switched up the pov for this one, i feel like its better this way

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO way represents the stray kids members as people. this is just for fun, so don't take it to heart. just enjoy!

read part one here!

After hearing those words come out of Chris’ mouth, you are stunned, his own mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to find the right words to say. Honestly, what does one say to such a question without coming off as desperate? You decide to just keep it casual, but not so casual that it seems like you’re brushing Chris off. 

“Oh, that sounds nice, actually.” You reply, a soft smile gracing your features as you fix the buttons on your shirt, your head turning to see Chris jumping into his slacks as he pulls them up, his ass bouncing when his feet make contact with the floor. You can’t help but stare, and before you have time to stop yourself, the palm of your hand comes in contact with the bouncy meat. 

The sound that comes out of Chris is a mix of a gasp and a shout. His head whips around to the cause of the slight stinging pain in his back side. You look up at Chris, your eyes a little wide, and your mouth opening to spout a million apologies, but a sweet, nervous laugh stops you. 

“I guess that’s payback for earlier, yeah?” Chris asks, turning his entire body to face you, his perfect teeth on display as he continues to chuckle lightly. You actually think you might explode if Chris continues to be so damn cute. 

The two of you make plans to meet at Chris’ place after you both get off work. You guys exchange contact information (although Chris technically already has your number after he begged Minho for it, Minho finally choked it up after he made Chris tell him whether Jisung was single or not), and you both settled on arriving at Chris’ at seven that night. 

Which leaves you with about four hours to get ready and invite your children over to gossip. You decide to send a simple text to the group chat (which is named knockoff power rangers, courtesy of Seungmin) and you set your phone down, heading to your bathroom to take a shower and clean yourself out. You can hear your phone absolutely blowing up and you just laugh to yourself before taking your well-deserved shower. 

When you get out of the shower, you can hear people talking in your living room, and you’re not even phased by it at this point. All four of your headache-inducing children have a key to your apartment. The spare keys were made by Jeongin, who somehow managed to steal your main house key in order to make the customized versions for the rest of them. (“What if Y/N hyung accidentally cuts his finger again? And then we have no way of getting to him before he passes out?” Jeongin had said, his lips in a pout as he clung to his oldest hyung. To be fair, Jeongin had one too many mimosas that day.)

A sharp voice rings in your ears, and you don’t even need to think about it to figure out who the voice belongs to.  “Choi Y/N you better get your ass down here and explain what the hell happened today!!” Hyunjin shouts, his pouty lips turned down in a small frown.

You quickly slip on some sweatpants and a loose shirt before making your way down the short hallway to the living room. Lo and behold, your friends are all squished on the couch, their eyes wide and transfixed on your figure. 

“Alright, alright, just shut up and let me explain every single detail,” You say, taking a seat on the chair that sits near his couch. And then you begin to tell your nosy friends all about the time you had with Chris in that office just a few hours previous to now. 

By the end of your little rencounter the four male’s jaws were damn near on the floor, shock completely taken over them. Until, Seungmin is the first to speak up: 

“So, did you finally dump that lame ass guy? What was his name? He was so boring that I don’t even remember his name. Why did you even date him?” Seungmin says, his face contorted in a scowl. Seungmin had a vendetta against Shinwon, something about how he was painfully average and not exciting. He claims that it’s a case of “one person in the relationship is way too attractive to be seen with someone who looks like that.”

(“Hyung, you deserve someone sexy and cool, someone completely opposite of you,” Seungmin told you one day, and it took everything in you not to smack the chestnut haired male.) 

“Yeah, Shinwon and I broke up this morning, actually,” You mutter, finding the bracelet on your wrist (Felix made it for you, and you cherish it more than anything in the entire world) way more interesting than looking at the expressions on your friend’s faces. “It was long overdue, I was falling out of love with him, and he kept talking about moving in together and I was getting annoyed and stressed out so I just-” You take a breath, cutting your rambles off short. Felix stands from the couch and takes a few short steps toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. 

“It’s okay, hyung, you don’t have to explain yourself. If you felt that it was right to break up with Shinwon, then we all support your choice.” Felix turns to the other three with a look. “Isn’t that right, guys?” 

The three males all reply with various agreements before you find yourself sandwiched between your closest friends. At this moment, you feel loved, like you’re not alone in this cruel world. With your friends by your side, you feel like you could do anything.

The five males had all met at JYPE, Y/N being the first of the five to start working there. It wasn’t until about half a year later, he met Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin, with his long black hair pulled in a half-up hairstyle, his body language confident as he feels all eyes on him, male and female alike. He knew those stares all too well. Stares of want, stares of envy and need. They all saw Hyunjin as someone with a pretty face and no brain. Hyunjin approached Y/N in the break room that following week, making himself comfortable in the chair next to the barely older man. 

“I’m Hyunjin and I’m new here.” the dark haired male said, holding his perfect, soft hand to Y/N. Y/N offered a shy smile before shaking hands with Hyunjin. “You were the only one who didn’t look at me like you wanted to devour me, so I’m sticking with you, now.” That's all it took to seal his friendship with Hyunjin, the two were a dangerous duo. 

Until precious Felix showed the next year. 

Lee Felix, with his adorable freckles and sweet smile, became friendly with everyone in the graphic design department. Felix even managed to befriend a few people from the production department. His energy was contagious, when he’s smiling, you can't help but smile as well. When he has an off day, you yearn for his sweet smile. Felix met Hyunjin before he met Y/N, but the two were introduced very quickly. Hyunjin dragged Felix all the way to Y/N’s desk, desperate to introduce the two of them. When Y/N laid his eyes on Felix, he felt like he had to protect Felix from this harsh company where it's easy to be taken advantage of. From that day forward, their duo became a trio. 

Then, Satan himself showed up just a month later. Nah, just Kim Seungmin, but close enough. 

Y/N’s personal thorn in his side, the devil on his shoulder telling him that he should 100% punch the crying child in the supermarket. Seungmin could be described as a monster disguised as a sweet puppy. Seungmin has this innocent smile that shows off his perfect teeth, his eyes becoming crescents as his face crinkles up. Behind that innocent smile is a man whose default option is verbal violence. Y/N knows that Seungmin means well, he’s just a different type of person. Seungmin was the one to approach Y/N, claiming that everyone else looked too boring and lame to be seen with him. Y/N just cocked an eyebrow at Seungmin and allowed the younger male to leech himself onto him. 

Now Y/N has three little ducks that follow him around, so why not give him one more? 

About five months later, little Jeongin arrives as a fresh new face. He was the youngest person to ever get a job at JYPE, at the ripe age of 19. The poor boy still had braces lining his pearly teeth. The older people of the graphic design department chose Jeongin as their personal butler, making the boy go on numerous coffee runs, printing runs, or just stupid errands that didn’t really need to be done. Y/N watched as they ran Jeongin ragged, not once allowing him to show them why he was hired at a young age. Y/N finally had enough of watching Jeongin get mistreated, so he stood up and grabbed Jeongin by the arm gently and dragged him over to his desk. 

“You’re joining my team, I can’t sit there and let them mistreat you like that.” Y/N said with his eyebrows furrowed, his gaze not leaving Jeongin’s wide-eyed expression. “I can tell you have potential, and I want to make sure that everyone sees that.” 

Jeongin could have cried at that moment, but all he did was bow and thank the older male. Ever since then, the five of them have been attached at the hip. You would think they’ve known each other for their entire lives, rather than just knowing each other only a few short years. They truly are a family and nothing could possibly split them up.

“So, did you agree to his date offer?” Hyunjin asks you, flicking Seungmin on the side of his neck when said male puts his bare feet on Hyujin’s thigh. “If you didn’t, tell him to hit me up.” Hyunjin is the only one who fails to see the way Felix’s demeanor drops, a slight frown settling on his lips. The freckled male receives a soft pat from Jeongin, hoping to comfort him at least a little bit. 

“Of course I said yes, the man gave me the best dicking I’ve had in a long time. Do you really think I’m going to reject him after that?” You say,, giving Hyunjin a pointed look as he rolls his eyes. “We agreed to meet at his place at 7 p.m.” 

“Do you have any idea what you’re gonna wear?” Jeongin pipes up, his brain already coming up with several different outfit combinations that will make his hyung’s physique stand out and blow Chris’ socks off. 

“Not a clue. I was waiting for you four to show up and play dress up with your personal doll,” You reply with a snort as you get up and make your way to the kitchen, preparing to feed Domino, who is currently laid on Seungmin’s lap. 

“Okay, let me raid your closet and put some things together!” Jeongin jumps up quickly and makes his way down the hall to your room, Felix trailing behind him, laughing the whole way there. 

“Does this mean I’m on hair duty?” Hyunjin pipes up from his spot next to Seugnmin, his dark chocolate eyes glued to his phone, scrolling on some social media app. He turns his phone to Seungmin, showing the male whatever is on the screen. 

“I mean, it’s up to you. Do you want to mess with this mane of mine?” You question, setting your cat’s bowl down in its little holder. You noticed that your hair has gotten quite long, and you know you are due for a trim soon, but the longer look is kind of growing on you. You walk to the couch, plopping yourself down in between Hyunjin and Seungmin, propping your legs across Hyunjin’s lap, peeking over to look at the long haired male’s phone. 

“You act like I have no idea how to handle long hair,” Hyunjin tuts, rolling his eyes as he flips his fringe out of his eyes. You watch your friend with a lovingly annoyed look on your soft features. Hyunjin is the definition of a diva and he’s aware of it. Seungmin always jokes around and says Hyunjin is probably a pillow princess, and not once has Hyunjin denied it. It’s honestly becoming less of a joke and more of a reality thing. (It’s hard to miss the way Felix blushes every time Seungmin jokingly mentions Hyunjin in a sexual light, the poor boy is close to exploding every single time.)

“You’re so damn dramatic, Jinnie. Just help me tame my hair, you Barbie wannabe.” You retort, your hand coming up and flicking the blonde’s forehead. Hyunjin lets out an offended noise, turning to you and throwing his entire body on your smaller frame. Seungmin gets kicked in the side and he lets out a yelp, before he pinches the culprit’s calf. You react on instinct and end up kicking Seungmin again with a sharp cry. 

The three of you are wrestling on the couch when Jeongin and Felix come out of the bedroom. The two of them just watch as the three of you poke, pull at, and even bite each other. Jeongin and Felix share a look before Jeongin clears his throat to catch your attention. The three of you stop what you are doing and look up, all three pairs of eyes wide and focused on Jeongin. 

“Hyung, go try on the outfit Lix and I picked out!” Jeongin says, flashing you a sweet smile, his eyes crinkling in excitement. Jeongin is the one person to go for fashion advice. The sweet boy has an eye for fashion just like Hyunjin has an eye for art and photography. “I think you’ll like what we put together! It’s totally your style, hyung!” Jeongin says, his eyes sparkling under the lights of your living room. You can’t help but melt seeing the youngest male smile so brightly. Jeongin deserves the world and so much more. 

You untangle yourself from Hyunjin and Seungmin’s grips as you make your way to your bedroom, only tripping once (“That’s a new record, hyung,” you can hear Seungmin’s voice in your head, already). You take a glance at the clothes on the bed, all laid out and neat. Were all of those items in your closet? How come you don't remember purchasing them? It doesn’t matter, Jeongin and Felix did a great job at choosing your outfit. An oversized navy blue sweater with the words ‘heart stop’ on the front in cursive. A pair of pale blue, baggy jeans with tons of rips in all sorts of places, including the area right under the swell of one’s behind. Next to the sweater is a necklace, one that you haven't seen in a long time. Where did those two sneaky little brats find your mother’s necklace? You pick up the necklace oh-so-gently and examine it with a soft smile on your face. A beautiful silver chain with a charm that looks like the planet Saturn, with a stunning amethyst gem as the planet. A sad smile finds its way onto your face, and a single tear falls from your eye. You wipe it away immediately and take a breath. 

Once you slip on the outfit, you take a look at your appearance in the full length mirror that hangs on your wall. You take in the way the clothes fit on your body. The sweater hangs a little big on your body, but the color flatters your skin tone perfectly. The baggy jeans hug your waist and hips as if there were a pair of strong arms there. You turn your body, looking at the way the jeans make your ass look round and plump. The rips cup the bottom of your cheeks, showing a sliver of soft skin. You just know Chris will get a kick out of them. 

You venture out of the bedroom and into the living room where your friends are. You stand in front of the couch, catching their attention, four pairs of various shades of deep brown roaming your figure. You can’t help but feel your ears get warm as they just stare at you. Seungmin is the first to speak, and you are expecting a smartass comment. 

“Wow, hyung, you actually have stylish clothes? I never would have guessed,” the chestnut haired male lets out an unattractive snort, earning an elbow to the side from Felix. 

“Be nice to him! He looks really good!” Felix says, defending you with a cute pout on his face. Seungmin sends a glare at Felix, holding his throbbing side. 

“I am being nice! I complimented the way he’s dressed!” Seungmin retorts, turning his gaze back to his hyung. Seungmin would rather die than actually compliment you, or anybody for that matter, that’s just how your dynamic is with the younger male. 

“Innie, you and Lix did a really good job with the outfit. Where exactly did you find these clothes, though?” You ask, tilting your head to the right slightly, your hair falling in front of your face. “I don’t recall buying either of these items, if I’m honest.”

“Lix actually found them in the corner of your closet, the tags were still on them, hyung.” Jeongin says matter-of-factly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You just shake your head and chuckle. Leave it to Jeongin and Felix to find something out of thin air. 

“Well, thanks you guys, I actually like this outfit a lot,” You say, a genuine smile on your face. 

“Honestly, hyung,” Hyunjin starts, holding his phone up to take a selfie, “You could leave your hair as it is, I have a feeling it’s just going to get messed up by the end of the night anyways.” He says, making a valid point. “Besides, the messy look is what drives people crazy, trust me.” 

You take Hyunjin’s words into consideration. Would you and Chris actually do anything tonight? A part of you hopes that you do, but on the other hand, you kind of feel like it’s a desperate move. As if he could read your mind, Felix speaks up. 

“Hyung, whatever you’re thinking, stop,” He starts, crossing his arms. “Whether you guys do it again or not, doesn’t matter. What matters is that Chris definitely likes you enough to ask you out on a date, instead just being fuck buddies.” 

“I guess so, I just don’t want him to think that I agreed to the date because of the sex, but it’s definitely a plus.” You say, ears warming up at your sudden confession. Talking about such intimate things with your closest friends shouldn’t be weird, because you often tell each other about your sexual endeavors, but you can’t help but get a little flustered. It’s not everyday that you guys are talking about the latest person you’ve hooked up with, but you always feel like a parent finding out their children aren’t innocent virgins. 

“It’ll all go well, hyung,” Felix says, his words making you feel a little more relaxed. Felix knows you like an open book that he’s read a million times. Felix must have a radar that goes off when he feels like his hyung is about to spiral into overdrive. “We’ll stay here during the date and if it doesn’t go well, at least you’ll have plenty of shoulders to cry on.” Felix finishes speaking, flashing you one of his bright smiles that makes his gorgeous brown eyes disappear behind his lids. 

“I hope you’re stocked up on tissues, crybaby hyung,” Seungmin pipes up from his spot on the couch, his body being squashed by Hyunjin, who is laid out on top of the male. You roll your eyes and shake your head. Although Seungmin makes you want to commit violent crimes, you know that Seungmin means well. You check your phone, looking at the time. You have plenty of time to freak out before you have to head to Chris' apartment. 

Chris is freaking out. He’s going absolutely feral. He stares at the third failed beef wellington. He lets out a heavy sigh before grabbing his phone, calling the one person who actually knows something about cooking. 

“Oh, this better be good,” Minho’s light voice comes through the speaker, a humorous tilt in his voice. “Did you end up canceling on him because he’s ‘just so pretty, Minho!!’” Minho’s laugh fills Chris’ ears, making the blonde roll his eyes. He’ll let Minho have his fun for now. 

“Very funny, you must think you’re sooo hilarious.” Chris says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He really doesn’t have time for Minho’s silly little scorpio games, he wants to impress his long time crush so desperately, and Minho is quite literally the only person who can help (he doesn’t dare ask Jisung or Changbin, that’s off the table, not even an option). 

“I actually don’t think I’m hilarious,” Minho replies, and Chris already knows what the younger male is going to say. “I know I’m hilarious.” 

“Yes, yes, you're the funniest person in the world. Now can you please help me?” Chris can’t help the warmth that crawls up his neck. He can’t help the blatant desperation in his voice. He hates asking for help of any kind, genuinely believing that he can do things on his own. This situation is different, though. He wants to make sure this date is absolutely perfect for you. 

Chris doesn’t want to look like a loser in front of the male he’s been crushing on since they both entered the company so many years ago. Sporting large glasses and your hair in a shorter style, you looked like the nerdy boy next door in a cheesy rom-com movie. Or the innocent member of an idol boy group. You didn’t really radiate the same confidence that you do now, your body language no different than an animal on edge. You often spoke in a soft tone, your voice easily getting lost in conversation. As the years went on, you became more comfortable in yourself, and you carried yourself completely differently. You ditched the chunky glasses for a pair of contacts (sometimes you  would sport thin wire glasses, and Chris swears his heart would leap out of his chest cavity every time the two of you happened to lock eyes), and you let your hair grow out. You had friends, you were smiling more. You could easily command a room by your presence alone. You went from a timid, almost invisible person, to someone who refuses to be walked all over like a doormat, and Chris falls more in love with you each time. 

“Holy shit, you sound desperate. What’s going on?” Minho pipes up from the other side of the phone, his playful tone being thrown out of the window. Minho might be the friend who jokes around too much, and is hardly ever serious, but he can always tell when something isn’t right with his friends (Jisung calls it his “Lino Sense” and Minho melts when Jisung points this out.).

“I’m making beef wellington for Y/N and it’s not going well. I’ve made it three times already, and I'm so close to losing my damn mind, Minho.” Chris says, his words jumbling together, and Minho can hear him huffing from how fast he was speaking. “I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” Chris’ voice trails off, a sad sigh leaving his lips. 

“Alright, give me, like, five minutes,” Minho says, and Chris can hear the jingle of keys in the background. Was Minho really coming over to help? Chris could kiss the heavens above him. 

“Ohmygod Min, you’re a lifesaver, I could kiss you,” Chris cries out, feeling the stress leave his body as quick as it came. 

“No thanks, Chris. We’ve done that once and we both hated it,” Minho says, shivering as he remembers the time he had kissed his best friend and how quickly he realized he was not attracted to the older male in that way. “Save the kissing for Y/N, yeah?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right, uh, see you soon.” Chris feels his face get warm, unable to keep his mind off the way your lips had felt on his just a few hours ago. He wants to shove his face in a pillow and scream while kicking his feet like a teenager in the 80s movies he watched with his parents. 

Just as he promised, Minho barged into Chris’ apartment, his hands carrying a bag with a logo matching the convenience store’s just down the street. Minho looks at the blonde, taking in his appearance. His clothes are covered in various ingredients, and Minho can quite literally see carrot shavings in Chris’ blonde tresses. 

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do, Channie,” Minho says, catching Chris’ attention at the nickname. It isn’t often that his friends use his nickname, and it catches him off guard each time. “You are gonna go and take a long, hot, shower, and I’m gonna make the beef wellington for you.” 

Chris’ eyes go wide. He just might cry right now. Minho is his savior, a real knight in shining armor. Although, this knight is wearing sweatpants and a large shirt. Close enough. Chris pulls his friend into a hug, not exactly knowing how to thank him. Minho seems to get the idea, because he pats Chris’ back with a breathy laugh. 

“Alright, loverboy, go shower. You smell like raw beef and desperation.” There’s the Lee Minho that Chris knows and loves dearly. With a laugh, Chris makes his way to his bedroom, opening his dresser drawers and taking a peek inside. 

Black, black, black, and even more black. He huffs at his lack of color wardrobe. Of course, there’s a bit of white and gray in there, but other than that, it’s just… black. He closes the drawer and goes to his closet. There has to be something a little colorful in there, right?

Chris lets out a triumphant noise after digging deep in his closet for about three minutes. He tosses the deep red shirt onto his bed, a gift from his grandmother when he went to visit her in Australia about two years ago. He really hopes it still fits. Ever since his last trip to his homeland, Chris has hit the gym with Changbin and Jisung, the three of them bulking up rather quickly. Especially Changbin. Chris grabs his best pair of skinny jeans, a pair of black (are we even surprised?) jeans with various words painted on them. Once he tosses the jeans on his bed, he steps into his bathroom to take a shower. 

As he steps out of the steamy shower, the smell of meat hits his nose. Chris swears he starts drooling at the smell. It smells ten times better than his three attempts combined. He quickly slips on his clothes and takes a look in the mirror. 

Oh. The shirt, well, certainly fits. Maybe a little too well. It’s pretty tight, the sleeves wrapping around his biceps nice and snug. The fabric stretches a little across his chest, showing the outline of his impressive pecs. He just chuckles and shakes his head, making his way to Minho. 

Minho’s eyes fall on Chris as the male enters the kitchen. He gives a whistle and an approving nod. 

“Looks like all that working out has paid off, huh?” MInho says, busy stirring some sort of sauce in a pot. “I just have a feeling Y/N will jump your bones immediately.”

“As much as I would love that, that’s not exactly my goal here,” Chris says, leaning over on the counter. “I want to actually make sure he has a good night with me, and if it gets intimate, then so be it.” 

“Wow, you’re way more whipped than I thought.” Minho says, fake gagging as he continues cooking. He acts like he hates romance but deep down, he genuinely wishes for a relationship. 

“I don’t want to hear you talk. I have dirt on you, my friend.” 

After Minho finishes cooking, he bids Chris goodbye, demanding that he gets the tea on how everything went. Left alone with his thoughts, Chris decides to tidy a little before you show up. He sprays the living room area with some light freshener, making sure to spray his couch as well. 

Just as he was done tidying up around his living room and shutting the door to his bedroom, a notification from his phone shakes him out of his cleaning spree trance. A text message from ‘Y/N &lt;;3’ stares back at him. 

‘Hey, uh… I don’t know which apartment building is yours… I think I’m lost’

Chris can’t help but chuckle at the text. He quickly types a response and decides to stand outside his apartment to help you find the right place. He closes his eyes and feels the soft breeze of the night blow through his still-drying locs. He prays to every single god that this night goes smoothly. This is his only chance to completely swoop you off your feet. 

He hears footsteps approaching him, so he opens his eyes. He feels his breath hitch as his eyes fall on the male standing beside him. You’re standing there in all your glory, and you give him a small smile and a wave. The light makeup makes your E/C eyes pop, the black liner accentuating the shape of your eyes perfectly. And is that a soft red tint on your lips? Yeah, poor Chris isn’t going to survive the night.

Chris finally snaps out of his lovesick daze and gives you one of his dazzling smiles. “Hey, I’m glad you made it! Even if you got a little lost.” He chuckles. You give him a shy smile and a nod. 

“Yeah, I hope I’m not late, the makeup was kind of a last second decision.” 

“I think it looks really good on you. Let’s go inside, I just finished dinner.” Chris’ hand wraps around your waist from behind, guiding you into his apartment. 

The two of you finish dinner after a while and are nursing glasses of cocktails made by you just using ingredients you found in Chris’ kitchen. The two of you are laughing as soft music from Chris’ playlist plays in the background. You’re both facing each other as you tell embarrassing stories from your childhood and various college shenanigans. 

“There’s no way you swam naked in the campus’ fountain! I can’t imagine you doing anything like that!” Chris’ eyes are wide as he looks at you after you tell him about one of your many drunken moments in college. 

“Yeah, I was always down to do crazy dares, as long as I had a couple shots in me first.” You reply,, setting your now empty glass down on the coffee table in front of the couch. Your gaze falls on Chris again, your eyes flitting down to Chris’ lips for the millionth time that night. You so desperately want to feel those very lips kissing all over your body. 

“If you want me to kiss you, you have to use your words, pretty boy.”  

Your entire body warms up at the way Chris speaks to you. Firm, but not demanding, like he’s going at your pace, afraid to scare you off. You waste no time, opening your mouth to speak. 

“Chris, will you please kiss me like crazy, and never stop even if I can’t breathe anymore?” You say, your body moving to plant itself down on Chris’ lap. You wrap your arms around Chris’ neck, the two of you leaning in to connect your lips together. 

This kiss is totally different from the one you shared in Chris’ office. This kiss is softer and contains feelings that go way beyond just lust. Of course the lust is there, but it’s more of a soft lust. Your lips mold together with Chris’ as if they were made to, your noses slightly bumping together, and your tongues gliding against the other, tasting sweet alcohol. Chris’ hands slowly move from your hips all the way down to your ass. Chris is pleasantly surprised when he feels warm skin, and slips his hands inside the rips of your jeans. You jump a little, feeling Chris’ cold hands on your bare skin. 

Just as Chris pulls away to plant kisses and bites all over your neck, a phone notification makes the both of you pause and look at each other. You share a confused look before the two of you are grabbing your phones to see who got the text. You groan when you look at your screen. 

Why is your (very very recent) ex boyfriend texting you to meet up and talk things out? Did he not get the message this morning when you broke up? Before you have a chance to type a reply to Shinwon, Chris’ voice stops you. 

“Hey, what’s so important on your phone that you stopped kissing me?” There’s a cute pout on Chris’ face, and his eyes are glued to your face. He doesn’t appreciate someone interrupting this little make out session. 

“Well, it’s my… ex boyfriend,” you say nervously, not wanting to look up and see the expression on Chris’ face. Would he be upset? Disappointed? 

“Is he bothering you? I can tell him off for you. He’s kind of messing up our night, here.” Chris says, sounding completely serious, taking you by surprise. He… wasn’t upset that your ex was ruining the romantic night? 

“I mean, you don’t have to, but maybe…” you finally look up at Chris with a mischievous glint in his pools of your E/C specks and swirls. 

“Maybe what, pretty boy?” 

“Mark my neck and take a picture. I’m sure he’ll get the idea.” 

Chris does not hesitate for a second before his mouth is on your neck, his teeth biting and nibbling all over the soft flesh, while his tongue glides over the bites, softly soothing the delicious burn. The soft noises that come out of your mouth lets Chris know that he’s doing something right. The noises get louder as Chris gets closer to the spot just under your ear. This must be your most sensitive spot. Deciding to test out his theory, Chris bites down on the spot, earning a beautiful whine from you. 

Once Chris decides that he’s marked you enough, he takes the phone out of your hand and quickly snaps a picture. He sends the photo to Shinwon, and types a quick message:

‘Sorry, mate. Looks like he’s a tad bit busy right now. Maybe you shouldn’t text him again, yeah?’

Once the message is sent, he tosses your phone away after turning the ringer off, hoping the device won’t interrupt you guys for the remainder of the night. He turns his attention back to you, who is looking at him, lust clouding and swimming in your eyes. The sight makes Chris’ heart swell, knowing that those eyes are directed at him and him only. This is everything he’s ever wanted, he feels like all of his prayers have been answered. He plans on making the moment last, not wanting to waste a single moment. 

Chris suddenly stands up, his arms wrapped around you as he lifts you up. You let out a shocked noise, your legs automatically wrapping around the older man’s waist. 

“Warn me next time, Chris! You can’t just flaunt your strength by picking me up!” You slightly slap at his back, allowing yourself to be carried to what you assume is Chris’ bedroom. 

Chris just laughs as he walks to his bed until his lower thighs meet the edge. He semi-carefully tosses you onto the bed, staring down at the way your body bounces on the bed. You just pout up at Chris, offended that you were just tossed like a sack of potatoes. 

“Sorry, pretty boy, I had to move us to the bed. I don’t like when the couch gets messy.” He shrugs, speaking with such nonchalance, it kind of surprises you. 

“So, I’m not the first person you’ve wined and dined?” you know you’re not, you just want to mess with Chris a little bit. Chris isn’t the only one allowed to tease around here. 

Chris lets out a snort, and he climbs on top of the bed, hovering over your frame. He leans down and places a soft peck on your lips. “Would you believe me if I said you’re the first?” 

Now those words really catch you off guard. That’s impossible. Chris, the very definition of a god, has never brought anyone home? There’s no way. 

“I’ve only ever had one person on my mind. For many years..” Chris says, and the words linger in the back of your  mind. Chris couldn’t possibly be talking about you, right? Why would Chris like someone like you? You are known to be unapproachable, the  natural scowl on your face driving people away from you (besides your current group of friends). 

“I know what you’re thinking: you’re wondering why I like you. I’ll be honest, I’ve liked you ever since the moment we both stepped into the JYPE building all those years ago.” 

Now you feel like an idiot. You could’ve had the hottest man alive as your  boyfriend, but you felt that Chris was more into… women. You really fumbled the bag on this one. You can hear Seungmin cackling at you in your head. 

“So, you’re telling me that I could have had you all to myself but you never spoke up about it?” You cock one of your eyebrows as you stare up at the man on top of you. Chris looks amazing from this angle, his strong arms next to your head, ultimately caging you in. “I had to date other people while my mind was focused on you all this time.” 

“I’m sorry for not speaking up sooner, I really had no idea how to approach you without things getting awkward,” Chris explains, obviously referring to the time the two of you attempted to have a conversation at the company Christmas party. 

You give him a cheeky grin. “Why is that? Were you intimidated by my good looks?” You joke, tilting your head to the side as your eyes roam over Chris’ sharp facial features. 

Chris gives you a sheepish smile, his eyes flitting from side to side to avoid your gaze. “Actually, yeah,” he says, a short laugh coming from him.

Your eyes go wide in surprise. Now this is news to you. You always saw Chris as someone with confidence spewing out of every part of his entire being. 

(“Hyung, he’s a man who walks like he’s six foot tall, when he’s actually below average. How much confidence could he possibly have?” “Seungmin, disrespectfully shut the fuck up.”)

“Christopher, if you don’t kiss me and take off my clothes right now, I might go insane.”

This is too much, it feels way too good to even be real. You and Chris are both naked, and Chris is buried in between your plush thighs. Chris’ fingers are digging into your soft muscle as he holds them apart. (As much as he would love to be crushed in between those thighs, he needs to get his dick wet first.) You let out a delicious whine, your back arching as Chris’ tongue slips and slides all around your length.You’re drooling all down your chin as you shake and writhe under the intense pleasure.You’ve  already been denied an orgasm once, Chris squeezing the life out of your length tightly with a shake of his head and a pitiful look. 

Chris pulls away and looks up at you, adoring the fucked out look on your face. He wipes his mouth and moves his body flush with yours, his tongue coming out of his mouth to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. The two of you swap spit for a few minutes before Chris is pulling away, lifting his body up to rummage through his bedside drawer. He pulls out two items, placing them to his right. He sits on his heels in between your spread thighs, and he grabs your thighs, pulling your body close until your lower halves are flush against one another. 

Chris picks up the small bottle that is sitting at his side, he pops the cap open and allows an even amount of the liquid to coat his fingers. The soft smell of vanilla hits your nose and you smile to yourself. Chris brings his hands in between your cheeks, his fingers circling around your rim, before one of the slim digits pushes past your hole. You let out a soft sigh as his finger slides in and out of you. 

Soon enough, a second finger pushes past your ring of muscle, joining the first one, the digits stretching you open perfectly. You toss your head back against the pillow as Chris’ fingers rub and prod at that spot deep inside you. Once he deems you stretched enough, he slips his fingers out, wiping them on his bare chest. He grabs that familiar gold package and tears it open with his teeth, not once breaking eye contact with your lust-filled E/C eyes. He moves back just a little, rolling the rubber onto his thick length. Grabbing a pillow, he places it under your lower back, your hips being raised just a bit, also giving better access to your awaiting heat. 

He pumps his dick in his hand a few times before he’s sliding the tip into you. He lets out a shaky sigh as he slowly slides all the way in, allowing himself to bottom out. Chris looks at your face, the sight of your eyes closed tight and your mouth open, short puffs of air exiting. He smirks to himself, feeling proud that he’s the one making you feel like this. Once he feels like you have adjusted to him, he snaps his hips forward, meeting yours in the middle. 

He moves his body so he’s hovering over you once again, not once stopping his thrust, keeping at the same pace. He leans down and captures your lips, swallowing the noises coming out of your lips. After a little bit of kissing, he picks up the pace, the tip of his dick hitting that tasty spot dead on with every thrust. You’re going crazy under him, chanting his name like it’s the only thing you’ve ever known. Chris loves the way his name falls past your lips, it makes him want to tattoo the sound in his brain to be replayed over and over.

(“That sounds absolutely stupid, why are you like this, hyung?”)

“Chris,” You pant out, your chest heaving up and down as your hips start to shake from the overwhelming pleasure you’re being succumbed to. “I’m close, so close!”

Chris just chuckles, grabbing your legs and throwing them over each of his shoulders. This new angle allows him to absolutely drill into you with sharp, quick thrusts. He pounds into you, his own hips beginning to stutter and skip, chasing his own release. 

“Come on, pretty boy, show me how good I’m making you feel,” Chris pants out, his chest and neck a bright shade of red as he tosses his head back, high pitched moans falling from his lips. Chris brings his hand to your length, jerking it in time with the thrusts of his hips. It isn't much longer before Chris spills into the condom, curses leaving his lips. You end up following not long after him, the white liquid coating Chris’ hand and your stomach. The two of you stay like that for a moment, coming down from such an intense moment. You let out a breathy laugh, bringing your hand up to brush the hair sticking to your forehead. Chris lets his heavy body fall on top of you, causing you to huff. You wrap your arms around him and place tiny pecks on his bare shoulders. 

“That was so much better than this morning,” Chris says, his voice slightly muffled by your neck. You agree with him, this morning was definitely rushed and desperate.

 “So, since we’ve already gone to second base, why don’t we make this official?”

[cherryys]

why do you think yuuji isn't gonna make it? i have a lot of bets put on itafushi both dying or living (for Reasons i'm not gonna be annoying abt rn lol) so i like to hear why others believe otherwise

Oh god okay so

There are ALOT of death flags around yuuji, more than the people that actually died had lol but if i had to compose a list:

1. In Chapter 1, these are Yuuji's grandfather's dying words to him:

And i feel this statement of "when it's your time to go, make sure you're surrounded by others." Is going to play a big part in the ending, especially paired with the "save anyone you can, even if it's just one person" this translation doesn't say those exact words but the anime did so im gonna roll with it lol (if anyone knows what the og japanese version said please let me know!!!)

I think Yuuji is going to die by saving Megumi, surrounded by him (and others like Yuuta and Todo but im more focusing on Megumi because he is the start and the end of Yuuji's entire life purpose and ideals) and that would fulfill his grandfather's dying words of "save whoever you can, even if it's just one person. don't end up like me, [alone]. Die surrounded by loved ones" and i think that would truly be the best ending Yuuji would get after that, better than any hollow victory of killing sukuna but still outliving everyone else, alone. He had suffered enough in those few months, i think it would be cruel of Gege if he lets him outlive everyone else and still keep going with how much he's lost and witnessed.

This falls in line with the purpose he set for himself in Chapter 2:

He had already accepted that his life ends with Sukuna. That moment is when, for him, Itadori Yuuji ceased to exist and instead, Sukuna's Vessel. (Though the people around him try to convince him otherwise). Him doing those two things (Killing Sukuna and Saving People) as what his character's purpose in the story is, not living to see his 16th birthday (as despressing as that may be 💔)

2. In Chapter 203, Kenjaku says this:

This sort of ties into my earlier point of him and Sukuna's lifespans being interconnected thematically. Kenjaku here specifies Yuuji coexisting with Sukuna. As long as they are both alive, the cycle of curses (and suffering & pain) will never end. Even if Yuuji were to live on, he still has Sukuna's essence burned into him (whether that be because he'd been a vessel for so long or because of his lineage). He cannot get rid of the entirety of Sukuna, all his remains and all his ugliness, without getting rid of the one inside him first. That's why to completely get rid of Sukuna, he has to take himself out too.

Shoko even says this in Chapter 220:

By a narrative standpoint, he technically counts as an extra finger, still housing his Technique and his Evil Dredges, sort of speak. To completely defeat Sukuna, he has to go too.

3. A little fun fact about JJK, it was under threat of being cancelled all the way back since the Cursed Womb Arc. Because of that, Gege rushed to write that arc along with Chapter 9 as its subsequent "end" (though we know now Shonen Jump continued releasing it) and coupled with the fact that Gege said a while ago he already has the end of the story in mind, it's not a stretch to say that the end is going to parallel that Chapter somehow, with Yuuji sacrificing himself to save Megumi and them sharing a quiet moment (under the rain, or snow since its Dec 24 lol) where Megumi tells him again that he had never once regretted saving him, even after all the turmoil and pain it caused Megumi.

I think that would also be a nice send-off for Yuuji, the last face he sees is the one person he actually succeeded in saving and the one that saved him back, telling him that despite all the guilt he felt, all the pain he made himself responsible for (despite it not being his fault), he—who had a moral code so strict that he'd never save anyone that would kill someone in the future, yet saved him anyways, and stuck by his side after all that happened in Shibuya and told him to share the burden, the one person who never left him alone—never once regretted saving him, that the good Megumi knows is in Yuuji was worth it. And that despite the pain Megumi went through (and the pain Yuuji feels responsible for) he doesn't blame him nor regret that choice. And that he'd do it again even knowing everything.

I could go more into the other side of this argument of why Megumi being the one to die wouldn't make sense but i'd be rambling on for too long lmao i tend to go on restlessly 😞 im just really passionate about jjk and its themes

[matchalattegreen]

hi, i know that you like to wright (i've seen ur works, REALLY GOOD BTW) so i was wondering if we could have something like a Dallas and Reader kinda thing where they have to babysit and he drops by. since he hates children, he sorta insults it, but soon falls for tha baby and starts to love it and act kind for once. srry if its a lot, but i just thought it would be cute <3

tysm!! sry it took me so long to write this it took a lot of thinking lol but hope you like it!!!

Dallas x Reader: Babysitting

"(Y/N) can I have some milk?"

You smile down at the little toddler. "Of course sweetie, come with me." You lead her to the kitchen and grab the carton of milk out of the fridge and pour her a small glass. "Here you go."

She takes the glass and begins to drink it thirstily. Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. "Gimme a minute sweetie I have to go see who that is."

She nods and you make your way over to the door and look through the peephole. It's your boyfriend, Dally. You open the door.

"Babe, what are you doing here, I'm babysitting."

He grins. "I know. Your brother told me you'd be here so I thought I'd stop by."

You roll your eyes. "Dal, you can't just stop by, this is basically my work. And you hate little kids."

He sighs and makes a pouting face. "But I'm not here to see some stupid kid. I'm here to see you."

"Well I've gotta take care of said kid so I need you to leave."

He sticks out his bottom lip even further. "Please... I just wanna be with you."

You glare at him for a minute then give up and roll your eyes. "Fine. But watch your language, no smoking, no being dumb, and just be nice."

"Damn, you'd think I'm the one you're babysitting when you talk like that," he says. You turn back and glare at him. "Fine, fine, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He struts into the living room and makes himself comfortable on the couch.

"Who's that?" says the little girl upon seeing him.

You panic. "Uh, that's just my friend. He wanted to help me babysit you because he loves little kids and he thinks you just look adorable." She smiles and blushes a bit. Then of course Dally has to speak up.

"The hell do you mean 'I love little kids'?"

You glare at him then jab your thumb towards the girl to silently tell him to just go with it for her sake. He sighs and speaks in an annoyed tone. "You're right, I do love little kids."

You smile at him gratefully and smile back at the little girl. "See, we're gonna have so much fun together! You wanna play dolls or something?"

"Yeah!" she exclaims with excitement.

You pull out her large bin of dolls. "Come on, Dal. Why don't you play with us?"

He speaks sternly. "I'm not playing with that shit." You glare at him again, silently telling him that you really need him to just go along with it and play. He rolls his eyes. "I mean, of course. I love dolls."

He gets down on the floor with us and picks up a doll then turns to you. "Can this doll get beat up in a rumble?"

"What?"

He smirks. "You know, I just think that would make her character a lot better."

"Dally, none of the dolls are getting beat up in rumbles. Let's go through the rules of playing dolls. The dolls do not fight, steal, smoke drink, lie, get arrested, or do anything you would do."

He stares at me with a frustrated look. "Okay, okay. This doll is a princess."

The little girl giggles. "Her name is Rosecastle!!"

You smile at her creativity and look back at Dally. He has an annoyed look on his face. "Fine. It's Rosecastle."

The little girl holds up her own doll. "And this is her sister, Daisycrown!!"

Dally opens his mouth to say something but you shoot him a warning look. He sighs and his tone softens. "Yes, Rosecastle and Daisycrown are the prettiest princess sisters in all the land."

The little girl bursts out giggling and you smile at Dally. He manages a smile back, then, your phone starts ringing. The call is coming from the girl's mom.

"Hey guys I gotta take this real quick can you both be good for just a couple minutes please?

The little girl grins and nods and Dally just rolls his eyes. "Yea, fine, fine."

You smile and begin to step into another room. "Okay, thanks guys, I'll be back in just a minute."

You answer the phone. The girl's mom just wanted to tell you that she got caught in traffic and will be a bit later than she expected. You tell her it's no problem and you can keep watching her daughter. She asks how it's been going and you tell her it's been great. You say goodbye and hang up the phone then step back into the living room and you are a bit surprised.

Dally is actually legitimately playing dolls with the little girl. And it doesn't seem forced either. In fact, he is actually smiling and seems to be enjoying himself.

You smile at this scene. "Were you guys okay while I was on call?"

The little girl grins and nods, then Dally changes his expression to try and seem more serious, though he is clearly struggling. "Um, yeah we were... I mean, we were alright..."

You hold back laughter at him trying to still seem tough. "Oh, okay. Well I guess if you thought it was just alright you could just go home. I mean, you don't have to stay here if you don't want to, Dally."

"No!" he bursts out. He realizes what he did and starts blushing a bit out of embarrassment. "I mean no, I'll stay. You know, just cause I can."

You continue to hold back laughter. "Okay, sure go ahead and stay if you want, I mean I don't really care."

He grins and keeps playing dolls. Him and the little girl seem to really be having fun. You can't help but smile at how well they are getting along.

"Well," you think to yourself. "Maybe he really does like little kids."

[emojellyace08]

Hi!! Loved your work of demon reader. But what about vampire reader?? Yk?? Or what about siren reader?? Like lookism characters just take a break for the day and just decided to go to the beach. They just explore the beach until they come to secluded part of the beach they decide to go back but than...they hear singing? So they go investigate who in the world is singing...than they saw it..someone sitting on a rock singing beautifully..than they noticed a tail..omg a siren. Yeah I know its very silly. Its alright if u don't want to write this anyways have a nice day/evening or night!!♡♡

♡ "Lookism Men x Siren/Memaid! Female Reader🐚🌊💀" ♡

Hello fellow human! (and Daniel simp lol). This is a very cool idea! (I want to go on the beach so bad yet I don't have free time because of school). Genre: fluff? (Kind of inspired and based on The Little Mermaid, just edgier) Note (quick fact!): Sirens are different from mermaids. Sirens are half birds with a face of a human (female mostly) to lure men/sailors and wreck their ships with the use of their voice and singing while mermaids usually keep their distance away from humanity, wanting to live peacefully (at least in most versions). Now I don't know what to call this "evil mermaid" creature that I made up on my mind and it's really tricky to write since sailors get killed by sirens when they are lured by the song so I kind of made it a mix of a siren and mermaid😭(pls bear with me lmao😀👍). Another note!: (D/n) stands for dog's name

꧁ ♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡ ꧂

He is a strong, sturdy, and focused sailor whose duty is to operate the ship and vessels and maintaining a safe work environment, him being admired by every women and envied by men. And everybody knows that he's not here to make friends or companions. And you're a living-sea creature whose business in life is to wreck ships with your strong-level of power and with the great advantage of your luring singing voice and your different level of speed in swimming. You don't know why you were acting like this. Is it because of that mentality when you believed that humans are disgusting creatures who take advantage of mother nature or you being hostile is just part of your natural instincts.

Well, he made your heart pounding though when he helped you carry out the anchor that has been stuck on your tail when you're minding your own business on your cave even though you're already hissing at him almost telling him to back off if you were able to speak the "human-way". It was very unusual for him to be generously kind to other people, let alone a sea-creature. So it's different (almost weird) for his co-sailors to see that side of him. Now you're the one who won't leave him alone when he's out to do his work, you swimming with your full speed to catch up to the big ship even when it's moving at a decent speed. Making him sigh and giving you a glare, almost not giving you attention because of you following him with that puppy-eyes even if you have the fiercest orbs ever.

*Sigh* it's weird for him, but he does find you cute (and threatening) in some ways.

Johan Seong/Samuel Seo/James Lee (DG)/Gun Park/Jichang Kwak/Hudson Ahn/Mandeok/Xiaoleoung/Taesoo Ma/Cheon Taejin/Magami Kenta/Seokdu Wang/Gapryong Kim

꧁ ♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡ ꧂

He is not only a dreamy and eye-catching prince but also a compassionate, helpful, and kind lad not only to humans but also to animals. He is well-respected by his fellow sailors when they're out riding his ship on the middle of the ocean, either fishing for food or him just wanting to explore the outside world of his lonely castle. Him admiring the sapphire-like color of the water as he often gets curious if mythical creatures like mermaids, even the predatory ones like sirens exist. But he never expected to meet a mixture of both.

Unexpectedly, a raging storm interrupted their ride as everybody recruited on their boats "D/N!" He knows it's one of his weakness. He's too caring for others even on the smallest things that can be "replaced" but he knows that the memories won't fade forever. So as risky as it sounds, he went back on the now sinking ship and giving the animal to his body guard before he was quickly swept by the harsh water waves, slowly drowning and loosing his breath. But a miracle happened.

He woke up on the seashore. Clothes wet and some parts ripped. Good thing that he is safe despite getting mild bruises. He was lost in his own thoughts when his assistant screamed for his name to get his attention and asking him if he's alright. Before that, he remembered when he was opening his eyes, he saw a striking face of a female with the familiar color of that specific scales and ear fins before it went away at that moment. He smiled as a warm blush covered his cheeks as he remembered that time when he was younger, he explained that he helped a mermaid-looking creature yet an attitude aggressive like a siren when it's injured yet his servants laughed at him. Now you're the one who rescued him when he needed help. It's unlike in your predatory nature but you've been curious about what he's being doing lately as he's curious about your well being. You often get excited when you see his ship, following the smell of the young man as you watch on the distance, wanting to know things about him. If you weren't so different of worlds, would you make it work out? If you only had legs...

Daniel Park/Jay Hong/Zack Lee/Vasco (Lee Eun Tae)/Yuseong/Jake Kim/Eli Jang

꧁ ♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡ ꧂

He's literally the definition of a struggling yet determined and hard-working man. Not only he has to provide his daily necessities, but he also helps out his family too. Poor guy needs a rest. The dark circles that is ringing on his gloomy eyes have gotten deeper because of the lack of his sleep with the mixture of sea sickness that is starting to make his stomach grumble. He needs something to eat.

Stopping by the land, he went in the caves as he wanted to spend his free time before going on duty again as his stupid co-sailors wasted their time by chugging off the strong scent of alcohol that is stinging his sensitive sense of smell. Despite the place being a bit dark, good thing he brought his lantern with a box of matches for safety measures, a pocket knife, a small bag of biscuits and a jug of water. He sat down on a rock, sighing as he gets lost on his own thought thinking about his future especially for his loved ones who relies on him. He just wants to experience living of the life of luxury, eating everything he craves for and sleep every time he wants with his family, not wanting to leave them out. He wants to feel peacefulness even just for once in his life but he knows that he needs to focus on his work if he doesn't want to starve for a whole week, a month rather than smelling the stench of the fish that he catches every time he went out for fishing .

He was overthinking again before he noticed a movement on the small body of water that he is near to. "Eh- Who's there!?" He asked as he sticks up his lamp up to see if there are any near predators in the place. He could be in danger. He was surprised to see a tail move upward as the creature swam deeper in the water. He was about to get out when you suddenly grab his legs making him yelp. Your hand is slimy and soft yet the way you grab him was gentle. But he wouldn't risk getting drowned so he got up, ran away while wailing his hands up and screaming. You're just curious about the young man, he looks like a nice guy. Yet you scared him off. How do you properly approach humans anyways? (lol).

Zack Lee/ Vasco (Lee Eun Tae)/Warren Chae/Eli Jang/Jerry Kwon/Duke Pyeon/Brad Lee/Jason Yoon/Jihan & Jibeom Kwak/Sinu Han/Jiho Park

꧁ ♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡ ꧂

Well nobody knows if he really is a professional marine biologist or if he's just a smart amateur. But everybody knows that he's one hell of a smart fellow for their era. He's intelligent and logical, yet idealistic and curious about the things around him. He has worked on big projects like mechanicals in big marine transportations that has been successful over the years for his age. Now he wants to explore what lies beneath the ocean.

He got curious when he read about a book related to hybrids of marine animals and humans, basically the mer-folk. He usually doesn't believe in fairy tales (often thinking it's dumb at times in realistic situations). But in terms of creating writing and his curious thinking getting in the way again, he can't help but to consider the possibility that the fish-people even sirens may exist. The past few cases of sunk ships have been very interesting for him nowadays.

He and his crew decided to have a short trip on the seas for him to have a break while secretly working on his research and investigation. Every island and shores have been discovered and dug to find artifacts yet none of it are a provable evidence of its' existence. He was about to give up when a singing voice is heard from the distance. He knew it was dangerous based on the novels that he had checked out, yet the sailors with their stupidity followed the sound and decided to catch whatever is moving under the water. He thought he was going to die when you approached the ship, but instead his weirdness got the best of him again as he ordered the fishermen to release you. It may be the dumb decision to let you go, but it's for the best for your and everybody's safety. He got a valuable evidence of your blood on the fishing hook that was used though.

Jace Park/Yoojin/Goo Kim/Baek Hangyul/Jinyoung Park/Tom Lee/Manager Kim/Gapryong Kim

꧁ ♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡ ꧂

He is just a normal person, a person looking for thrills in his boring life. He causes chaos in his place, almost getting caught by the soldiers when he's doing dumb shit again. *Sigh* well, he thought he's not an ordinary person if he keeps risking his life for pranking other people though. But this behavior crosses the lines when he decided to sneak in the castle to see the beautiful ocean that he's been dreaming to visit. But for some unexplainable reasons the king decided to shut down the access of the place. Was it because of the irresponsibility of the people who dumps their trash and dirt into the ethereal place? Or was it because of the missing fishermen that has not yet found for almost a year now? Nobody knows the real reason if the higher ups won't open up about the issue.

Yet here he is now, feet feeling the warmness of the earthy-brown color of the sand as he admires the view of the horizon. It is beautiful, almost breath taking as if he is in paradise. But his moment was cut off when the guards noticed his presence on the abandoned place. "OI WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" Shit, he's been caught again. He knows that it's probably the time he face the consequences of his actions. But that feeling of adrenaline is getting him excited, again and again as it repeats the cycle of the feeling of a masochistic happiness that he can't explain. He can't let that happen. To be beheaded in front of the pathetic people around him. No, he will run. As fast as he could.

Running away with his swift speed, he managed to escape (once again) the higher ups as he hides on the unfamiliar cave. Laughing to himself yet keeping quiet to not have the guards' attention. He once again admired the beauty of the rocks yet keeping his guard up. He knows that it's dangerous because of what ever is lurking in the dark. And it seems that he is somehow right. He noticed a shadow of, a human-like form with a tail on the water? He can't be serious right now. That living-creature doesn't exist, right? You slowly rise on the water, eyes like snake keeping your attention to the unfamiliar man as he pleaded for his life. "Oi, I don't know what the hell you want but, I"M HERE TO STAY FOR A WHILE SO PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!" He winced as he has his eyes closed ready to be attacked. But as you got up and sat down on the rocky ground, you just kept your attention to him. Your pupils unusually dilating as you got curious about his presence which once again is unusual in your instincts as you attack other people. He heard on the gossip that mermaid-like creatures kills humans. Yet you just sat there, admiring his beauty as he did the same. If he isn't "normal", then he probably found someone like him too. Probably a new friend?

Goo Kim/Olly Wang/Jiho Park/Kuroda Ryuhei/Vin Jin

꧁ ♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡ ꧂

Feedbacks would be appreciated!

A/N: What if I make a vampire! lookism men x reader 🌚