#no one has ever called me out for it i just wanted to explain my thoughts

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Mark ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Mark x f!idol!reader

summary: you and you boyfriend Mark are paired up for an interview, but do you even know you're texting each other? No.

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

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Mark got comfortable in the plush, pink chair of the Kode set with a shy smile, "Ah hello, I'm Mark from NCT." He pushes his earbuds into his ears and begins playing his music, "today I'll be known as Cheetah. Um, I couldn't really think of anything else and the fans already call me a cheetah so it was easy to think of."

On the opposite side of the wall, you settle into your own chair while smiling at the camera while introducing yourself, "I was so confused when I was asked to pick a wild cat as my screen name. It was such an oddly specific category, and even weirder when you told me cheetah was already taken. Anyway, I chose Tiger because they're the next prettiest."

Your music begins to play through your earbuds as your phone vibrates from the first message from your partner. "Yo?" you read in confusion, staring at your screen with pure confusion, "is that it? This is a man isn't it? Girls don't talk like this."

On the other side of the wall Mark laughs softly, covering his mouth as he reads the message. "This person is so happy. I've never seen anyone write hi with this many i's."

You and Mark text back and forth for a while, sharing your hobbies and sending memes back and forth until the both of your are giggling madly on your respective sides of the set. Of course, after nearly 2 years together you'd know how to make each other laugh, even without knowing you're texting each other. Your partner still doesn't give you any identifying traits or hints as to who they are. Well, besides clearly being a man based on how he texts.

Following the instruction of the staff, you send a screenshot of your home screen. You pout, feeling slightly bad for your partner. Just two days ago you'd gotten a new phone and hadn't yet had the time to make it yours. It was stuck with the boring default background and a handful of apps you considered to be essential. You explain as much with the text accompanying the screenshot.

And Mark's screenshot? Well, it might as well be just as boring as yours. He has the blur set on the photo so all you see is an indistinct mess of colors. Two distinct blobs which could be the shape of two people or two flowers or two guitars or two cats.

"Wow," you say as you typed out the word, "we are two very boring people. You really don't want me to know who you are."

Mark laughs out brightly while he reads your text, "me? You haven't even changed your own yet!"

"I told you I just got a new phone and haven't had time yet!" You laugh to yourself while typing out your message.

Your joking back and forth gets the two of you off track while you playfully poke fun at each other back and forth until the staff ask you both who you think you're texting. Mark looks at the camera while he tries to think, "I have no clue. It's a girl, surely but it could be anyone. Do you pick random people off the street to do these videos?"

On the other side of the wall, you blush softly, covering your face while your face cools down, "is it weird if I say it's my boyfriend? He just seems so much like Mark."

It's one of the few times you've ever referred to Mark as your boyfriend for any sort media. You and Mark had technically been a public couple for about a year now, since your respective companies had come out with their statements to reveal your relationship. How you'd been able to conceal a year of your relationship was beyond the both of you. Well, a lot of dark, oversized clothes and hats and masks to conceal your faces.

After the company statements, you and Mark seemed to be even better at hiding. You barely glanced at each other at award shows, and if you did, it was only friendly, nothing that could be interpreted as anything else. There were very few glimpses into your relationship beyond birthday and anniversary posts with obscured faces and sharing each other's most recent comebacks on your stories. Privacy was something you both valued and of course you were more than ok with doing any type of promotion with Mark, it just never worked out that way. Until now (not that you knew). Plus, it wasn't like this interview would give anyone any important details of your relationship anyway.

When the staff prompt you both to share a screenshot of your most recently listened to songs, you stare at your screen with a look of blank surprise, "this is just a mix of Drake and Justin Bieber. It's Mark, it has to be."

You zoom in on the picture, mumbling about how you see more music that is so distinctly Mark while on the other side Mark looks at the screenshot you send excitedly. "She's a fan! Of me! Wow, she's listened to Child and Golden Hour and 200! Ok, I have to chill out a bit," he tells himself even as he types out his message telling you that you have good music taste.

You snort at his message just as the staff laugh at the exchange at the same time. The head producer instructs you both to find your baby pictures to send to the other.

You look up from your phone, looking at the camera and the staff, "surely, you'd think a couple who have been together for this long have seen pictures of each other when they were kids, right?" The staff nods in response before you speak again, "well, we haven't! I've only seen what has been posted online. Same for him!"

Mark sends you a picture of him as a baby where he's a few months old and you coo immediately. You zoom in as close as you can drawing your phone closer to you face as you star adoringly at the baby on your screen. "He's the cutest little thing I've ever seen! I've never seen a cuter baby in my life! Oh, I just want to squeeze his cheeks and cuddle him," you gush over the adorable picture of the chubby baby boy with an adoring look on your face.

Mark looks at his phone, the camera, the staff, his phone again, the camera again with a look of pure and utter confusion as he looks at what he can only assume is a child covered in frosting. "You can barely tell this is a human, how is this supposed to help me figure out who I've been texting?" Mark asks, zooming in on the picture while the staff bursts out in laughter. When he finds out who he's talking to...

So when he staff ask for a final guess as to who you've been texting you say Mark's name confidently while Mark ultimately utters out, "Maybe someone from a girl group... maybe it's Yeri."

When the staff ask you both to stand and get ready to face each other to reveal yourselves. Instead of walking toward Mark, you find yourself behind the set so you're behind Mark.

Mark walks forward slowly, waiting to see when he'll spot his interview partner, but when he sees an empty spot, he faces the camera and the staff with a quizzical smile, "was I talking to a ghost?"

They laugh softly and murmur amongst themselves while you finally reach forward and tap his shoulder softly. Mark jumps, completely scared by the touch. He turns to you with his eyes wide with surprise, "you?!"

"Yes, me!"

After you're both seated at the high top table and calmed down from the surprise meeting with on another, you're both ready to talk to each other in front of the camera once again. You smile softly at your boyfriend, "I knew it was you."

Mark scoffs, "how?"

"Yo," you repeat the word from his first message with a poor imitation of his voice, "all the Drake, all the Bieber-- oh my gosh, Mark! Your baby picture!"

Mark laughs, taking your hand in his out of view of the camera, "speaking of baby pictures, what did you send me?"

Your brows furrow softly at his question, "I sent you a picture of me as a baby."

"There's no way that was you. You look like a little cake monster."

"It was from my first birthday..." you pout at Mark.

"Don't get pouty with me, you were completely covered, how could I have known? I can pout too! My face used to be your homescreen and now it's the plain default screen," Mark tells you with a playful pointed look.

"Mark," you deadpan, "you were with me when I got my new phone."

"Oh yeah..." Mark blushes with embarrassment.

"Anyway, who did you think I was?"

Mark squeezes your hand nervously beneath the table, his thumb rubbing at your knuckles a little anxiously, "I had no clue, to be honest. I knew you were a girl but I didn't know it was you."

When the staff ask Mark how he didn't know but you did, all he can do is blush and laugh out a nervous response. You turn to him with a playful accusatory look of your own, "yeah, how come you didn't know?"

"I don't really pay attention to how you text, just what we text about..."

You and the staff coo as you pinch his cheeks and cup his face lovingly, "you're so cute, but you were cuter as a baby."

"My mom says the same thing," Mark rolls his eyes.

Your conversation winds down and you both pose for the selfie at the end. You both pull silly faces, cheeks pressed together and eyes scrunched shut with your tongues sticking out.

Despite the stupid picture you both took, the screen fades to black with a completely different picture of you and Mark laughing while looking at each other with hearts in your eyes and bright smiles on your faces.

[elryuse]

Suzy x Male Reader

Smut, Actress has an infatuation with a younger childhood friend

Always On My Mind

Bae Suzy X Male Reader

Tags : Childhood Friends, Vanilla Sex, Extra Intimate and Passionate, Sweaty Sex, Kissing, Romance Words : 4,982 Words

You always called her Noona. Ever since you could remember, Suzy was a constant in your life—a beacon of warmth and comfort. She was two years older, always smiling, always teasing, and always looking out for you. Her black hair framed her delicate features, and her voice carried the kind of assurance only an older sibling—or someone who cared deeply—could muster.

"Noona, wait up!" you called as she walked ahead of you on the way home from school.

Suzy turned, her lips quirking up into a soft smile. "You’re too slow, Y/n. At this rate, I’ll have to carry you home!"

"You’re only saying that because you like showing off," you grumbled, your face flushed from running to keep up.

"Maybe," she said with a wink, "but it’s my job as your Noona to take care of you, isn’t it?"

That’s how it had always been. She was the big sister you never had, but somewhere deep down, you also knew she was something more.

It was a Saturday afternoon, the sky overcast but dry. You were sitting in the small park near your neighborhood, kicking pebbles while Suzy sat on the swing beside you.

“I have to tell you something,” she said softly, her voice lacking its usual playful lilt.

“What is it, Noona?”

She looked at you, her dark eyes full of something you couldn’t quite place—regret, sadness, and maybe a touch of excitement. “I’m leaving. Next week.”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest. “Leaving? Why?”

“I got accepted into an idol training program in Seoul,” she explained, her hands gripping the swing’s chains tightly. “It’s a huge opportunity for me, Y/n. You understand, right?”

You didn’t understand. Not at all. All you knew was that Suzy was leaving, and the thought of it made your chest ache. “But… what about us? What about… me?”

Her expression softened, and she reached over to ruffle your hair. “Oh, my little Y/n. You’re going to be just fine. Besides, I’ll come back to visit when I can. And you’ll call me, right?”

“I guess…” you muttered, not meeting her gaze.

“Promise me, okay? Promise me you won’t forget about your Noona.”

You nodded reluctantly. “I promise.”

Life went on, as it always does. Suzy’s absence left a void in your heart, but you buried yourself in school and later in college. Occasionally, you’d hear whispers about a girl group named Miss A on social media or from classmates, but you never connected the dots.

Until one evening, your phone buzzed with an unfamiliar number.

“Y/n-ah, it’s me.”

The voice was unmistakable. Your heart skipped a beat. “Noona?”

She laughed softly, the sound like a melody you hadn’t realized you missed. “Still calling me Noona, huh? I’m glad.”

“Where have you been?” you asked, your voice shaking slightly. “It’s been years.”

“I know, I know. I’ve been so busy, but I debuted! I’m in a group now—Miss A. Have you heard of us?”

“Yeah… I think I’ve heard your name around,” you admitted, scratching the back of your head.

“You’re so hopeless,” she teased. “Anyway, I’m back in town for a bit. Let’s meet up. I want to hear everything about you.”

You agreed to meet at the old park where she’d told you she was leaving all those years ago. It was late afternoon, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows on the ground.

When you saw her, your breath caught. She was still the Suzy you remembered, but something about her had changed. She carried herself with a quiet confidence now, her long hair flowing in waves down her back. Her smile, though, was the same—warm and inviting.

“Y/n,” she called, waving at you.

You approached hesitantly. “Noona…”

She grinned. “Don’t look so scared! I don’t bite.”

“It’s not that,” you said, trying to compose yourself. “It’s just… you look so different now. More… grown up.”

“And you’ve gotten taller,” she teased, poking your arm. “But you’re still the same shy little kid I remember.”

The two of you sat on the swings, just like you had all those years ago. She told you about her life as an idol—the rigorous training, the long hours, the moments of doubt. And you told her about college, about your struggles to figure out what you wanted to do with your life.

“You’ve done so much, Noona,” you said, admiration clear in your voice. “I’m proud of you.”

Her expression softened, and she looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race. “And I’m proud of you, Y/n. I always knew you’d grow into someone amazing.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the park in twilight, Suzy turned to you, her expression serious.

“Y/n, can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Noona.”

She hesitated, biting her lip. “I’ve missed you. More than I thought I would. And seeing you now… it feels like I’ve been searching for something, and I finally found it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. “Noona…”

“I know it’s selfish,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “But I don’t want to be just your Noona anymore.”

The world seemed to freeze. You stared at her, your mind racing. “What are you saying?”

She reached out, her fingers brushing against yours. “I’m saying I want to be more than just your childhood friend. More than just your Noona. I want… I want to be with you.”

The air between you crackled with tension, thick and electric, as Suzy’s words hung in the twilight. Her fingers lingered on yours, soft and warm, and her gaze was unyielding, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten.

“Noona,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the faint rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Her lips curved into a small, nervous smile. “You don’t have to say anything, Y/n. Not yet. Just… let me be honest with you for once.”

She shifted closer on the swing, her knee brushing against yours. The contact sent a jolt through you, but you didn’t pull away. How could you? This was Suzy—your Noona, the girl who had always been there, even when she wasn’t.

“All these years,” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “I convinced myself that I was just your Noona. That I was looking out for you like a sister would. But deep down, I knew it was more than that. Even back then, when we were younger, I felt something… something I couldn’t name. And now, seeing you again—” She paused, her breath hitching. “Now, I can’t ignore it anymore.”

Your heart raced, pounding so loudly you were sure she could hear it. “Noona, I…”

“Shh,” she murmured, placing a finger against your lips. Her touch was feather-light, but it silenced you instantly. “Just let me finish.”

Her hand dropped, and she leaned in, her face inches from yours. Her scent—a mix of citrus and something uniquely her—filled your senses, dizzying and intoxicating.

“I don’t want to leave without knowing,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Without knowing if you feel it too.”

The world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you, suspended in this moment. You searched her eyes, dark and endless, and saw the vulnerability she was trying so hard to hide. It mirrored your own—the fear, the longing, the hope.

“Suzy,” you said, her name slipping out before you could stop it. It felt strange, foreign, to call her anything other than Noona. But at the same time, it felt right. Necessary, even.

Her lashes fluttered, surprise flickering across her features. “You called me by my name.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “Because… because you’re not just my Noona. Not anymore.”

A soft gasp escaped her lips, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Before you could process what was happening, she closed the distance between you, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and tender.

It was messy, awkward even, born from years of suppressed feelings and stolen glances. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, while yours found their way to her waist, clutching her like she might vanish if you let go.

When she finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads pressed together.

“Y/n,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

“Me too,” you admitted, your voice rough with emotion. “But I never thought…”

“I know,” she said, cutting you off with another quick kiss. “Neither did I. But now that we’re here… I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Her hands slid down to your shoulders, then lower, tracing the contours of your arms before settling on your chest. You could feel the heat of her skin through the fabric of your shirt, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine.

“Suzy,” you said, your voice cracking. “Are you sure about this?”

She nodded, her expression serious. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

With that, she stood, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet. The park was empty now, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. She led you away from the swings, toward the familiar path that wound through the trees.

Your steps faltered as the implications of what was happening began to sink in. “Wait, Noona—Suzy. Where are we going?”

She glanced over her shoulder, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Somewhere private. Unless you’d rather stay here?”

Heat flooded your cheeks, and you shook your head quickly. “N-no, private is good.”

Her laughter filled the air, light and carefree, and she tightened her grip on your hand. “Good. Follow me.”

The walk to her apartment was a blur. Your mind raced, torn between disbelief and anticipation. This was Suzy. Your childhood friend, your Noona. And now…? Now, everything had changed.

By the time you reached her doorstep, your nerves were frayed, your pulse thundering in your ears. She unlocked the door and pulled you inside, kicking it shut behind her. The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the soft glow of a lamp in the corner.

She turned to face you, her breath catching as she studied your face. Slowly, she reached up, her fingers brushing against your cheek.

“You’re really here,” she murmured, almost as if she couldn’t believe it herself. “And you’re not running away.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you.

A slow smile spread across her lips, and she stepped closer, closing the gap between you. Her hands slid up your chest, then around your neck, pulling you down until your lips met hers once more.

This kiss was different—slower, deeper, more deliberate. Her tongue teased at your bottom lip, and you opened for her without hesitation, a low moan escaping your throat as she deepened the kiss. Her body pressed against yours, soft and warm, and you wrapped your arms around her waist, holding her close.

When she broke the kiss, both of you were panting, your faces flushed. She took your hand and led you to the couch, pushing you gently onto the cushions before climbing onto your lap. Her knees bracketed your hips, and her hands rested on your shoulders as she gazed down at you.

“I’ve imagined this so many times,” she confessed, her voice husky. “But it’s nothing compared to the real thing.”

Your hands found her hips, gripping them tightly as you looked up at her. “Suzy…”

She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me what you want, Y/n. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

Your breath hitched, and your grip on her hips tightened. “I want you,” you admitted, your voice raw with need. “All of you.”

A shiver ran through her, and she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Then take me.”

Her breath caught in her throat as your hands tightened around her hips, pulling her closer until there was no space left between you. The air around you felt electric, charged with the intensity of your shared desire. You could feel the heat radiating from her body, the way her chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. Her dark eyes locked onto yours, wide and searching, as if she were trying to pierce through every wall you’d ever built. And for the first time, you didn’t want to hide. Not from her.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against hers in a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down her spine. She tilted her head, her mouth parting slightly, inviting you in. But you held back, teasing her, letting the anticipation build until it was almost unbearable. Her fingers dug into your shoulders, urging you forward, but still, you lingered, savoring the way her breath hitched when you finally closed the distance.

The kiss started slow, tentative, as if you were both rediscovering each other after years apart. Her lips were soft, warm, and achingly familiar, yet they carried a sweetness you hadn’t noticed before. Your hands moved from her hips to her waist, sliding up her sides until they found the curve of her ribs. She gasped into your mouth, her body arching into your touch, and you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Your tongue brushed against hers, coaxing a low moan from her throat. She tasted faintly of honey and something uniquely Suzy—something that made your head spin and your pulse race. One hand tangled in her hair, gently guiding her head to the side as you kissed her with a hunger that surprised even you. Her fingers slid from your shoulders to the back of your neck, holding you close as if she were afraid you might pull away.

But you had no intention of stopping.

“Noona,” you whispered against her lips, your voice rough with need. “I’ve dreamed of this.”

She shuddered at your words, her grip tightening on your neck. “Y/n…” Her voice was barely audible, trembling with emotion. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

Her confession shattered whatever restraint you had left. With a growl, you pulled her onto your lap, her legs straddling your waist as you claimed her mouth again. This time, the kiss was anything but gentle. It was fierce, demanding, filled with all the longing you’d bottled up over the years. She matched your intensity, her nails scraping lightly against your scalp as she kissed you back with equal fervor.

One hand slid under the hem of her shirt, your fingers skimming the smooth skin of her back. She arched into your touch, a whimper escaping her lips as you traced lazy circles over her spine. Your other hand moved lower, gripping her thigh and pressing her closer until you could feel the warmth of her core against your stomach. The sensation drew a groan from deep within your chest, and you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against hers as you tried to catch your breath.

“Suzy,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. “I need to see you. All of you.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t hesitate. Slowly, reverently, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Then, with a shy smile, she pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her bare skin to your hungry gaze. Her breasts were perfect—full and round, with nipples already hard and begging for attention. You couldn’t resist reaching out, cupping one in your hand and rolling your thumb over the sensitive peak. She gasped, her head falling back as pleasure coursed through her.

“Y/n,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “Please…”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Leaning forward, you captured one nipple in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the hardened bud. She cried out, her hands tangling in your hair as you teased her mercilessly. Your free hand roamed over her body, exploring every inch of her as if committing her curves to memory. When you switched to her other breast, she squirmed in your lap, her hips grinding against yours in a way that made your head swim.

“Noona,” you groaned, pulling away just enough to look up at her. “You’re driving me crazy.”

A wicked smile spread across her lips, and she leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Then let me take care of you.”

Before you could respond, she slid off your lap and dropped to her knees in front of you. Her hands moved to your belt, deftly undoing the buckle before pushing your pants and boxers down your hips. Your cock sprang free, hard and aching, and she wasted no time taking you into her hand. Her touch was firm but tender, her fingers wrapping around your length and giving you a slow stroke that had your eyes fluttering shut.

“God, Noona…” you groaned, your hands gripping the edge of the couch.

Her lips curled into a smirk, and then she leaned forward, taking the tip of your cock into her mouth. The heat of her tongue was almost too much, and you had to bite back a moan as she swirled it around the sensitive head. Her hand continued to stroke you as her mouth worked its magic, alternating between sucking and licking until you were trembling with need.

“Fuck, Suzy,” you growled, your fingers tangling in her hair. “You feel so good.”

She hummed in response, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. Then, without warning, she took you deeper, her throat relaxing around you as she swallowed you whole. Your hips bucked involuntarily, and she looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes—a stark contrast to the dirty things she was doing with her mouth.

It was too much. The sight of her on her knees, her lips stretched around your cock, her dark eyes locked onto yours… it pushed you dangerously close to the edge. But you weren’t ready to finish—not yet. With a shaky breath, you pulled her off you, ignoring her pout as you lifted her back onto your lap.

“My turn,” you said, your voice thick with desire.

Her breath hitched as you flipped her onto her back, spreading her legs and settling between them. Her panties were soaked, clinging to her wet folds, and you couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the damp fabric. She whimpered, her hips lifting off the couch as you tugged her panties aside, revealing her glistening entrance.

“Y/n,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “Don’t tease me.”

You smirked, dragging your finger through her slickness and drawing a gasp from her lips. “But Noona,” you murmured, circling her clit with your thumb. “Watching you squirm is my new favorite hobby.”

Her response was cut off by a strangled moan as you leaned down, replacing your thumb with your tongue. The taste of her was intoxicating, sweet and tangy, and you lapped at her eagerly, drinking in every drop. Her hands fisted in your hair, holding you in place as you explored her with your mouth, alternating between broad strokes and focused flicks of your tongue.

“Oh God,” she cried, her back arching off the couch. “Y/n, I’m—I’m—”

She came undone with a cry, her thighs clamping around your head as waves of pleasure washed over her. You continued to lick her through it, gentling your movements until she collapsed back onto the couch, boneless and gasping for air.

When you finally pulled away, she looked up at you with hooded eyes, her chest heaving. “Y/n…” she murmured, her voice weak but filled with affection.

You kissed her softly, letting her taste herself on your lips. “Noona,” you whispered, “I love you.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she pulled you into another kiss, pouring all her emotions into it. When you finally broke apart, she wrapped her arms around your neck, holding you close.

“Take me,” she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. “Make me yours.”

Your heart raced as you positioned yourself at her entrance, the tip of your cock pressing against her slick folds. “Are you sure?” you asked, searching her eyes for any trace of doubt.

She nodded, her expression filled with certainty. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With a steadying breath, you pushed inside her, the tight heat of her walls enveloping you in a way that made your vision blur. She gasped, her nails digging into your shoulders as you buried yourself to the hilt.

“Y/n,” she moaned, her voice trembling. “You feel so good.”

You leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as you began to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that had her writhing beneath you. Each thrust drew a soft cry from her lips, and you couldn’t get enough of the sounds she made—the way she whispered your name like a prayer, the way her breathing hitched when you hit just the right spot.

Her hands roamed over your back, her nails leaving faint trails of pleasure-pain that only spurred you on. You buried your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent—sweet, floral, and utterly intoxicating.

“Noona,” you groaned, your hips snapping against hers. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

She wrapped her legs around your waist, pulling you deeper. “Then don’t,” she whispered, her voice husky with need. “I want you to come, Y/n.”

Her words pushed you over the edge. With a guttural groan, you thrust into her one last time, spilling yourself deep inside her as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. She clung to you, her body trembling as she reached her own climax, her walls clenching around you in a way that prolonged your release.

For a moment, everything faded away—time, space, the world outside—leaving only the two of you, connected in the most intimate way possible.

When you finally came down from your high, you rested your forehead against hers, both of you struggling to catch your breath. She smiled up at you, her eyes shining with warmth and affection.

“Y/n,” she murmured, her voice soft and full of emotion. “I love you, too.”

You kissed her gently, savoring the moment. But as you pulled back, a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes.

“Again?” she asked, her lips curling into a playful smile.

The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the blinds of Suzy’s apartment, casting a soft glow over the room. You stirred awake, your arm draped over her waist, her body warm and still against yours. Her breathing was steady, and for a moment, you just watched her, marveling at how peaceful she looked in sleep. She’s even more beautiful like this, you thought, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled when she saw you. “Morning,” she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.

“Morning, Noona,” you said, your heart swelling at the sight of her sleepy smile.

She stretched lazily, then propped herself up on one elbow. “I have to go to set today,” she said, pouting slightly. “It’s my music video shoot.”

You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment. “I’ll miss you.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned in to kiss you gently. “Why don’t you come with me?” she suggested, her tone casual but her eyes full of hope. “You could see what it’s like behind the scenes. And… I’d love to have you there.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The idea of seeing her work, of being close to her even while she was in her element, was incredibly tempting. “Are you sure? Won’t it be weird?”

Suzy shook her head, her lips curved into a playful smirk. “Everyone will just think you’re part of the crew. Besides, I want you there. Is that so bad?”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Not bad at all.”

---

The set was buzzing with activity when you arrived. Cameras, lights, and people filled the space, creating an electric atmosphere. Suzy immediately took charge, giving directions to her team and chatting casually with the director. You hung back, watching her as she moved with effortless grace, her confidence radiating in every step.

This is her world, you realized, feeling a mix of awe and pride. She belonged here, commanding attention without even trying.

At one point, she glanced over her shoulder and caught your eye, flashing you a quick smile. Your heart raced as she excused herself from the group and made her way over to you.

“How are you holding up?” she asked, her voice low so only you could hear.

“I’m fine,” you replied, though you felt a little out of place among all the chaos. “You’re amazing out there, Noona.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked down, suddenly shy. “Thank you,” she said softly. Then, after a pause, she added, “Stay close, okay? I want you near me.”

You nodded, unable to resist the warmth in her tone. As the day went on, you stayed by her side, helping where you could and simply enjoying the chance to be with her. Between takes, she would lean into you, stealing quiet moments of closeness that made your pulse quicken.

During a break, you found yourselves alone in her dressing room. The door clicked shut behind you, and Suzy turned to face you, her expression serious.

“Y/n,” she began, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “I know this is new for us, and… maybe it’s too soon to say this, but…” She took a deep breath, her eyes locking onto yours. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for this—for us—my whole life.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine. Before you could respond, she closed the distance between you, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer, your hands roaming over her back as if trying to memorize every curve.

She broke the kiss reluctantly, resting her forehead against yours. “I don’t want to hide this,” she whispered. “I don’t care who sees us. I just want to be with you.”

Her declaration left you breathless. “Noona…”

She pressed her finger to your lips, silencing you. “Don’t overthink it, Y/n. Just be with me.”

Before you could reply, someone knocked on the door, startling you both. “Suzy-ssi, we’re ready for you!” a voice called from the other side.

Suzy sighed, stepping back but keeping her hand in yours. “Come watch,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I want you to see this.”

You followed her back to the set, your heart pounding as you took your place among the crew. The cameras rolled, and Suzy transformed before your eyes, slipping effortlessly into her role. She moved with such precision and passion that it was impossible to look away.

As the shoot progressed, you couldn’t help but notice how often she glanced your way, her smile growing warmer each time. It was as if she were performing for you, pouring her heart into every movement because you were there to witness it.

When the director finally called “Cut!” and declared the shoot a wrap, the room erupted into applause. Suzy bowed graciously, thanking everyone for their hard work, but her gaze kept drifting back to you.

Once the crowd began to disperse, she made her way over, her steps slow and deliberate. “Well?” she asked, tilting her head playfully. “What did you think?”

“You were incredible,” you said honestly, your voice filled with admiration. “I mean, I always knew you were talented, but seeing you like that… it’s unreal.”

Her cheeks turned pink, and she looked down, almost bashful. “Thank you,” she murmured. Then, her expression grew serious. “But you know what the best part was?”

You shook your head, curious.

“Knowing you were watching,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It made everything feel… different. Special.”

Your chest tightened at her words, and you reached for her hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. “I’ll always watch you, Noona. No matter what.”

She smiled, a soft, contented smile that made your heart ache in the best possible way. “Good,” she said, leaning in closer. “Because I plan on keeping you around for a long time.”

As the crew began to pack up, Suzy led you to a quieter corner of the set, away from prying eyes. She slipped her arms around your neck, pressing her body against yours. “Now,” she said, her voice low and sultry, “what do you say we continue where we left off earlier?”

Your breath hitched, and you didn’t hesitate. You kissed her deeply, your hands gripping her waist as she melted into you. The sounds of the set faded into the background, leaving only the two of you, lost in the heat of the moment.

When she pulled back, her lips swollen and her eyes dark with desire, she gave you a mischievous smile. “My place or yours?” she teased, her tone light but her gaze intense.

You chuckled, your heart racing. “Whichever gets us there faster.”

Her laughter echoed through the empty set as she grabbed your hand and led you toward the exit. But as you reached the door, she paused, turning to face you. “Y/n,” she said, her voice soft but firm, “this isn’t just about tonight. This is… forever. Okay?”

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “Okay.”

And as you stepped out into the cool night air, hand in hand with the woman who had once been your childhood friend and was now so much more, you couldn’t help but feel like the universe had finally aligned. For the first time in years, everything felt right.

“Let’s go home,” Suzy said, squeezing your hand.

[shinningdance]

Taste tasting

Roommate au because @beloveds-embrace captured my heart with this au q(≧▽≦q)

warnings: none!! Pure fluff!

The Kitchen was a mess, to put it nicely. It actually looked like a bomb hit. Multiple Pans on the stove, cake icing on the counter - slowly dripping down to the floor, egg shells next to a big pile of flour.

The oven is on, finishing the cake you've been working on for the last 2 hours, the cupcakes are already cooling down by the dinning table. Very carefully you transfer the steak from the pan to a plate, where perfectly cooked potatoes are decorating one half of the plate. Finishing off the meat, you sprinkle a bit of sea salt on top.

You do this two more times, having bought too much meat and not wanting to waste it, it leads to this mess. You only wanted a small piece for yourself, after all you need to practice.

That's what got you into this situation, a cooking competition. Now, why would you waste your time on some silly work competition? Easy, the winner gets two days paid time off. In those two days you can catch up on your series, sleep late, enjoy life until work calls again.

The front door opens and a soft "Hello" was heard, looks like your Guinea pig arrived.

"Perfect timing!" You call back and make your way to the door, meeting Kyle halfway there. He's still wearing his jacket and scarf, good to keep warm in such a weather.

"Perfect timing for what?" He smiles down at you, obviously a bit confused, and maybe a tiny bit scared.

"I need a lab rat" You reply, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the kitchen table.

Kyle doesn't even try to fight back or ask, he simply follows as you pull him along. A small huff leaves his lips as you hurry him towards a chair, forcing him to sit down, only then does he dare to removes the scarf and winter jacket.

"I'm scared to ask but..how am i lab rat?" He mumbles and lays the clothes over the chair next to him.

"Easy.." You start talking while grabbing a full plate of a juicy cooked steak with a perfect sear, paired with golden, crispy potatoes, seasoned to perfection. "You have to taste test everything i made today."

At the mere sight of the fresh food his mouth began to water, eyes scanning the masterpiece.

After a short moment of silence he forces his eyes away, looking at you with a cheeky smile. "Everything? There's more?" He asks as he grabs a knife and a fork, immediately digging in.

You bite back a small laugh, nodding your head as you watch him eat. "I made cake..i just need to wait for it too cool down and decorate it, also, i made cupcakes." You smile and walk to the oven, checking on said cake. Finding it perfectly cooked you turn the oven off and grab oven mittens.

As you move the cake from the heat to the counter you hear the sluttiest groan ever. "That good, huh?" You chuckle and look over your shoulder, seeing Kyles eyes closed as he enjoys the steak.

"That has to be the best steak I've ever had..." The steak is so good he forgot his table manners, talking with food in his mouth. "I can't wait to brag about being your first ever taste tester when you start your famous cooking career."

"That's a no for me." You correct, grabbing the icing you made earlier, along with freshly cut strawberry's. "I just want to win a cooking competition to win 2 days paid time off."

"Oh you're winning, don't worry about that." He mumbles and brings another piece of a steak to his lips.

"What's that lovely smell?" A deeper voice comes from the entrance, standing there is John, snow on his hat and shoulders.

"Birdie cooked the best food ever." Kyle calls out before you can explain yourself. A bit of head rushes to your cheeks at the complement.

"I made way too much, so i hope you're hungry." You smile and walk back to the kitchen, grabbing a plate and putting the same food on there as before.

John doesn't even hesitate as he sits down next to the younger man, waiting for you to pass the plate. Just like Kyle, his mouth starts to water at the sight of the steak with the potatoes.

"This looks magnificent." He remarks as you hand him a knife and a fork.

"Taste it first, then you can give me feedback." You smile and get back to the cake, finishing up the icing as you hear another groan from the table. "Don't eat too much, there are two rounds of deserts."

"Two rounds? You're spoiling us, dove" John claims as he continuous to devour his food.

"Not complaining though." Kyle mumbles as he finishes his plate, quickly getting up to put it in the dishwasher. As he gets closer he sees the now finished cake, strawberry's on the top. He smiles and cleans his plate. "Good luck with that cake, it's Johnnys favorite, I'm giving him till midnight until it's fully gone."

"Speaking off, where is he? and Simon?" You question as you cut off two pieces of the cake, putting them on smaller plates and walking back to the table with Kyle.

"Last minute shopping for Tuesday, we have to leave again, remember?" The older man answers as he too finishes his plate, already looking at he cake.

Right. Sometimes you forget they actually have a job when they're at home for more than a week.

"I did forget." You hum and put the two cakes down, watching as both men immediately grab for one.

Like before, both of them groan as they swallow, apparently you're a really good cook. A small yawn escapes your lips, causing both men to look up.

"Getting tired? How long were you in the kitchen for?" Kyle asks, eyes on the clock on the wall.

"A while." You answer, making your way to the couch.

"Don't fall asleep just yet, your sleep schedule is already bad." John calls out as he watches you lay down and pull a blanket over your body.

"Just a few minutes" The words are mumbles, face pressed against a pillow.

The couch sinks near your head, a soft hand landing on your cheek. You've never fallen asleep faster.

"Be quiet." John calls out softly the moment the two missing house members enter through the front door.

Both man freeze mid step. Johnny holding his phone while Simon carries two bags. Not long after do they realize why.

You're asleep, blanket over your body, legs on Johns lap and head resting in Kyles lap, his hand stroking your hair softly.

"Aww.. look at 'er!" Johnny calls out, getting shushed by both men on the couch.

"Foods in the kitchen, she made steak, cupcakes and your favorite cake." John answers and watches the Scot almost run to the kitchen.

"Any special reason why?" Simon asks as he sets down the bags by the the table, quickly sitting down next to Kyle, who rests his head on his shoulder.

"Practicing for a cooking competition at work." Kyle answers and watches as Johnny walks back in with a piece of cake.

"She ruined me foe Military food." he claims, shoving another large bite down his throat.

a/n: not proofread...kinda gave up at the end...＞﹏＜

[valentine-cafe]

hello (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

I'm sure ur inbox is probably brimming with requests rn, so I'm just gonna slip this in and u can take ur time with it!

[Top male] reader who's usually gentle in bed but had to go through a day full of misfortune that got him stressed, and he channels that into pounding the characters hard? When he comes back to himself, he feels so guilty and remains minimal contact with the characters for a few days. (⁠>⁠▽⁠<⁠)

The orders will be tiramisu, affogato and croissant! though, I'm not sure if the characters fit the prompt so feel free to change them out for another. (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠)

And if I haven't lost your interest, may I be so blunt to ask to take up the 📖 anon? If that isn't taken, of course.

Thank you dearly! ♡

˖⁺. “ stress fuck ! ” : 

﹙ multi bttm m. characters x frustrated top male reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . various bttm male characters !! 🍒 : 

you're typically so gentle with him . . . but after a bad day - you can't help but come back and fuck him senseless 

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ penetrative sex ˖ rough sex ˖ degradation ˖ some angst | wc : 1.8k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: here you go! hope you enjoy this! and of course you can be our 📖 anon <3

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

﹙ Alessio 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : He prefers it rough. Prefers his eyes rolled back into his skull and nails dragged down your back. Prefers the loud slapping and lewd moans pouring through the room as you manhandle him. Him. A 6’7”, highly trained mercenary. Have you any idea how fucking hot that is?

So when you were pounding away at his tight ass and spewing your degradation to his ear. Well, let’s just say that your cock ramming up his prostate was not the only thing sending him to cloud nine. The very notion that his soft-as-a-feather boyfriend was using him as a cocksleeve was enough to have him creaming all over himself.

Your hands left bruises on his olive skin. Ones that took his breath away when he looked at the mirror the morning after. His throat whispered memories of your tight grip stealing his breath away. Making him cling. Making him keen.

And then. . . you went distant. What the hell was that all about?

Alessio has never been good at no contact. Not texting you goodnight drives him insane as is. So don’t be too surprised when he’s crawling through your window at some ungodly hour to find out what the hell is going on.

“You - feel bad for fucking me?”

His half-hung eyes are wide for once. Before his hands grab at your shoulders and hoist you in. “You’re kidding right? Baby - I loved it.”

The puppy-eyed look he gives you is enough to melt your stubbornness. You sheepishly explain the entire situation and behold his frown. It doesn’t take much more until his arms are around you and toppling your body into the plush of couch cushions.

“No seas idiota.” ( “Don’t be an idiot” ) he huffs into your neck that he nuzzles up. “I just want you to do what you need, amore. None of that. Especially not for giving me the night of my life, yeah?” He pulls back to stare you down and then gives you a little peck when you nod.

﹙ Vespasiano 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : It’s no secret that Vespasiano has almost always been on the giving end in a relationship. Not to mention his lack of experience when it comes to men — so he’s still growing accustomed to being with you. His lovely boyfriend. Who also tops him. With that in mind, he quite appreciates your gentle hands and tender pace whenever he finds himself beneath you.

With that being said, he didn’t mind getting his ass ploughed that night you came home full of huffs and tensions. Even with his shock when you had suddenly buried your hand into his hair and forced his head into the pillows. When you started grunting and calling him a whore - splitting him open and making his eyes roll back.

He doesn’t thin anyone has ever fucked him out so much before. You got him to whine. Got him to whimper. Stutter and tell you it’s too much. Him. A man of his age, his experience.

The morning after, while the ache in his body and the realisation of what occurred still left him shocked, pleasure bubbled over his entire being. That felt. . . amazing.

Then came your distance. Anxiety swelled in his chest all over again. He can’t handle that. He’s dealt with it too many times from his ex wife. This sends him right back to the panic of uncertainty. Did he do something wrong? Were you mad at him?

He’s not going to bother with calling. He knows it never gets anywhere. So he’s showing up to your doorstep with big eyes while trying to keep it all together.

“Tesoro. . . did I do something? Talk to me, please.”

He’s collapsing into you before you know it. The guilt in your heart has you spilling everything which leaves him confused through his endless kisses all over your face.

“Too rough? Please. Do you think ‘m glass? I’m sixty-six, baby.” He’s chuckling against your ear despite his shaky demeanor. Cupping at your face and letting out a soft croon. “Nonsense. Is it new? Yeah. Do I hate it? Fuck no.”

He hooks you onto his lap soon after and shoots you a look of concern. “If anything I’m more worried ‘bout that bad day of yours. Won’t you talk to me?”

 

﹙ Jìngyí 209. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : He’s so used to his tender and gentle loverboy that the second you had him pinned down to the marble kitchen counter and fucking him to delirium — he almost thought he was dreaming.

He’s so accustomed to whispering sweet nothings to your ear, telling you how good you are, what a great job you’re doing. The last thing he expected was to have that replaced by your ragged voice muttering curses rough praises to his neck. Your nails clawing down his skin. Your hands making use of his flexible, snake-like body. With coils, pins, rough handles all over.

With all his work stress, of course he was all for you fucking him dumb and limp into the sheets. What he could not understand, however, was the sudden distance you put up after the morning of softness. Where he clung to you and murmured how much you had completely wrecked him the night before.

Good luck trying to remain distant from Mister Zhao, however. You’d find yourself confronted the second you avoided his call to check on your wellbeing.

He’s at your workstep before you can so much as blink. Pulling you off somewhere quiet and giving you a look through those amber, slitted eyes of his that told you to talk. Truthfully.

“You know how much I hate being ignored. . . sweetheart, what is the matter?”

All you can do is break when his tender hand caresses your face. Thumb rubbing below your eye while you sniffle over your rough day. How it resulted in you taking it out on him —- how bad you felt about it.

You catch his narrow-eyed stare. The look of disbelief and concern that melted through the prior irritation from your avoidance. He’s pulling you into his arms and tucking your head beneath his chin with a small frown.

“Silly boy. . . if I had an issue with it, do you not think I would have stopped you? Please, take it easy on yourself.”

You’ll have a quiet and calm day with him throughout. Anything to show you that he is fine, and so are you.

﹙ taglist. ﹚: | get tagged for specific posts

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[myrrusstuff]

Streamer!Jinx Headcanons!

Just some basic ideas and drabbles pooled into one post. I see a lot of streamer!ellie and streamer!vi, but barely any jinx if any at all. I don’t know, I just think she’d be the funniest streamer ever.

CW: Cursing? bits of Jinx x f!reader. jokes about jinx being cancelled, homophobia mentions.

Streamer!Jinx who got surprised when she blew up pretty fast. For the wrong reasons, Ofcourse (controversy, because she can’t keep her mouth shut), but once it smoothed over she gained a lot of following

She has no filter. None. The second something pops into her head, she says it aloud. She deals with the consequences afterwards.

Her room is either really messy, or oddly tidy. On that note, Streamer!Jinx that decorated her whole setup and desk, plus her headphones. They’re all covered in scribbles and spraypaint.

Streamer!Jinx that sometimes manages to convince you to play on stream with her, addressing you as a close friend to keep you both comfortable and safe online.

She constantly says “chat” and “gang”, even when she’s not streaming. Vi and Ekko pick up on it and comment on it frequently, using it to tease her.

Rages at Minecraft. 100%. She joined MCC, just to ragequit half way through because her team was in dead last. Her chat watched her leave the server and walk out of her room on the webcam. She had to take a whole 15 minuet break and come back with a cup of coffee to calm down.

She would start a Minecraft hardcore series just to hide in a hole as soon as it turns night, before logging off and never returning.

"Guys this is my first episode of... MINECRAFT HARDCORE!

…

Chat this seems to be my first AND last episode."

Jinx who accidentally revealed your relationship on live. She slipped up and called you "darling" or "babe", and her chat never dropped it.

"BABE?!"

"Holy shit did she just call her babe?"

"Ladies, we have a chance!"

"DID WE HEAR THAT RIGHT"

She tried to change the topic, "We’re going to win this round!", to say she lost, and her chat didn’t drop the topic, would be an understatement.

She got cancelled for homophobia once, because she went on a 'just chill and talk' live about how she didn’t approve of Caitlyn and Vi being together. It got taken the wrong way and had to explain that she’s infact Queer with a girlfriend. She defended herself with "Guys, I’m literally dating.." after she revealed your relationship, and then went on a rant sesh about you. She’s the biggest yapper ever.

Her twitch account got banned or suspended once because she got so mad at a kid on Fortnite that she cursed him out and went overboard. (Again, she has no filter).

She mainly plays Minecraft and gun games. But sometimes she’ll do longer lives for charity where she’ll play the chat’s top pick.

She accidentally showed your face on stream once, forgetting to tell you her webcam was on. You didn’t realise until later that day there were edits of you on your own fyp or twitter TL. "Babe, you might wanna see this.."

Jinx still gets confused whenever she sees an edit of herself. Also, she has a public favourite folder of edits of you. She doesn’t know how to edit it to make it private.

Once you got comfortable showing your face on webcam, Jinx hosted a “do my hair and Q&A” stream where you braided and brushed her hair while you both answered questions. Any excuse to spend time with you at the same time as working.

Notes: first time ever writing jinx, so I thought I’d start with headcanons. Do we want a streamer!jinx fic? Like an actual fic? Pls give me ideas on what to write abt her. This was re uploaded from my old blog @myrruwrites.

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Never to Return

[This story contains dubious consent.]

Sugar's witch, only having recently come into possession of her first doll, wanted to make her manor look the part. She wanted a flower garden in her front yard, and a vegetable garden in her backyard. In addition to the seeds, Sugar bought some of the necessary tools to-

"Casey!"

The doll turned to the name being called, seeing a person it recognized. She was running towards it, and nearly tackled it to the ground with a hug, making it stumble and drop its bag.

"Oh my god Casey, I missed you so much!" The person pulled her hug tighter. "I'm so, so sorry about everything I ever did, I never wanted to drive you away like this!"

"You were subletting for this one, yes?" Sugar gave the person three encouraging pats on the back. "You are forgiven."

The person pulled her head out away from the embrace, instead grabbing the doll by the shoulders and staring into its face.

"Case, is everything okay? You..."

She trailed of, her eyes darting across the doll's face.

"No. No, no, no... you're not one of those... things. You can't be." She pulled her hands away, stepping back. "Wh... why would you...?"

"Please calm down, Henri." Sugar calmly explained, bending down to pick up its bag of gardening supplies. "This one simply sought out a witch becau-"

"No, no, shut UP! You're even talking like one of them!" The person reached out and grabbed Sugar by the wrist, leading it in the opposite direction of the bus stop it was heading to. "You're coming back with me, a-and we're figuring out how to turn you back! We'll, we'll find a different witch, or-"

"This one doesn't want to change back."

"No, shut up, yes you do." She didn't even turn around, simply walking forward with a figuratively iron grip on the doll. "I don't care what the doll has to say, you have too much to live for! You had a job, and friends, and-"

Sugar stopped moving. The person turned back at the doll, frozen in place. She tried tugging on its arm again, and it stayed anchored.

"Henri... this is the best I've ever felt in my life."

Sugar looked up into the person's eyes, with an expression of calm serenity. "Even if I could, I would never, ever go back. Not for anything."

The person pulled her hand away, cowering. She didn't dare move. "Oh, god, it's... it's really you, isn't it? You... you can't be, this isn't..." Her voice hitches. "How could you be happy like this? As some... thing?"

The doll shook its head. It was starting to feel sick of this. "It's rather simple. This one doesn't have any of those dismal aspirations to try and cling on to its dead-end job, those sickening so-called 'friends', and any of that false hope that things would just get better if it stayed out of trouble and kept to itself."

Henri took a step back, moments from collapsing in on herself. The doll reached out and grabbed her wrist, letting the bag drop to the floor. For the first time, Henri could truly feel the coldness of that... thing's skin, as its joints tightened around it.

"No, let me go, let me go!" the person shrieked, its voice shrill and terrified. "This isn't you, you can't-!"

"You have no right to talk about who this one was. You don't understand how awful humanity felt." Pulling her closer. "You can't comprehend the sheer bliss this one feels from having a purpose, from being able to serve its Miss." Pulling her closer. "You rude, disobedient people think you have the perfect life by living for yourself and forsaking those around you, you... you..."

An arm around her back, pulling her torso against its. Faces inches apart, Henri's hysterics have faded into silent terror. What was once collected frustration quickly morphed into a dawning realization, a polite smile creeping across Sugar's face.

"You should be a doll, too."

She didn't respond. She whimpered, trying fruitlessly to leave the doll's grasp, but she knew it was useless.

Sugar grabbed the back of her hair, forcing her into eye contact. Good dolls are polite, good dolls help their miss, good dolls follow their purpose, and this one was being such a good fucking doll.

"This one saw the way you would always talk with your... friends. The way you'd coddle at them, shrinking your personality away, too scared to ever risk disappointing them. A compassion you'd never spend on this one. You were always the one working to please them." There was a bite to the doll's words, the final remnants of a long-steeped poison finally allowed to seep out.

"You're an empty space too, just a people-pleasing reaction to those around you." Its face, its voice, were dripping with a cold seriousness. "You need to be emptied. Freed from that egotistical self-service. Freed from the cowardice that bars you from true companionship. Taught the real purpose of service."

The thrashing stopped.

"N... I-I..."

She tries to steady her breathing, but can't. She's trying to focus, but can't. She's trying to say anything, but she can't.

"Why are you doing this? Please, I just-"

"You can't say no. Good doll."

Henri shuddered, her breath hitching. The chill in her spine felt like it could melt her, as her knees threatened to give out.

"Yes, YES, you feel it! That submission, that empty fluttering in your chest, the feeling of losing your identity all for the sake of another." Sugar barely restrained a frenzied smile as it released the person from its grip. She stumbled backwards from the lack of support, taking a moment to regain her balance. "That's what being a doll feels like, all the time."

Quick, heavy breathing. Arms at her front, a fear reflex.

"Kneel."

Her knees hit the ground hard, staring at the doll like an insect at god. Her hands were on her chest, trying to soothe her racing heart.

Sugar crouches to match. It places a hand on the person's cheek, compassionately brushing her hair out of her face, just like Miss did to it. "You would make such a good doll for this one's Miss, darling. Please, follow this one to the manor. All those sad, overwhelming parts of life will fade away into stillness. All you have to do is say yes."

She's paralyzed.

"Good dolls say yes."

She does as she's told.

[sendpseuds]

Oh my god... Mall goth anakin x on-the-verge-of-a-midlife-crisis obiwan... Your Mind

[part one][part two]

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Obi-Wan knows he's already spent far more money than he'd planned. Store after store he's found himself nodding absently in response to every request Korkie makes. The huge wireless headphones he doesn't need. The limited edition sneakers that look identical to the ones already in his closet. The sunglasses all the cool kids are wearing.

Today, Obi-Wan can't seem to say No.

It would be easy to say he's doing it to make his son smile — it's not as if he's above buying a bit of the boy's affection from time to time — but the truth is, it would be far easier to stick to a budget were Obi-Wan's mind not so completely occupied by other things.

Things like leather harnesses and eyebrow scars.

Charcoal rimmed eyes and a teasing smile.

The unavoidable temptation of a shiny silver ring through a perfectly pouting lower lip.

Obi-Wan's cheek still burns where the young man kissed him, close enough to the line of his beard that he's certain the rough hairs must have tickled the soft corner of that painfully pretty mouth.

Had that actually happened?

Had it actually been want he’d seen in that sharp sapphire stare?

Had he actually said those things?

Meant those murmured words?

The questions are a near-constant loop in his head.

Being propositioned for sex is not an entirely foreign concept to Obi-Wan — it was certainly more common in his young and reckless years but he’s been single for a while now and it happens more often than people might think. Nowadays it’s usually, "Wanna get out of here?" from a tipsy patron in a dark dirty bar, or "Which one is yours?" from a single mother rooting for the rival team in the late innings of a high school baseball game.

The last time he was approached like this— with such brazen aggression, such wild open want — the last time a pretty young thing in leather and low-rise jeans cornered Obi-Wan in a dark neon-soaked room he had a fake ID and no clue he was about to become a dad.

"I think I'd rather call you Daddy."

Fucking hell.

"Hey, Dad?"

Obi-Wan needs to physically shake the thoughts from his head before he can look at his son.

His son who, as per usual, is buried in his phone.

"Yes?" Obi-Wan hums expectantly, as if he hasn't been walking around in a daze all day, cocking his head to one side when Korkie clicks off his phone but doesn't move to place it in his pocket.

"You've been really cool today," Korkie replies with a sincerity that hits Obi-Wan right in the chest, his heart squeezing tightly when he meets a pair of eyes that look like a mirror of his own, "and I know we planned to go to Dex's for lunch—"

Then Obi-Wan understands.

"But you have other plans?"

He looks appropriately apologetic.

He looks so much like his mom.

"Soniee just got her license," the teenager explains, holding up his phone as if it's evidence to his claim, his eyes darting away at the mention of his school friend's name, "She wants to celebrate."

"She wants to celebrate, hm?" Obi-Wan can't help but tease, barely resisting the urge to immediately apologize for the part his DNA had in the boy's complete inability to fight the blush creeping down his neck, remembering how endlessly Satine used to tease him, "With you?"

"Not just me," Korkie scoffs, somewhere between annoyed at his father and disappointed that it won't just be him and his crush driving around in the beat up sedan her father has been saving for her ever since he got that big truck he doesn't need, "She said she can pick me up here and drop me off at home later."

Obi-Wan know's that Home does not mean his apartment.

"I should call your mom—"

"I already texted her," Korkie quickly replies, holding up his phone to display the typical response of, "As long as it's alright with your father."

All Obi-Wan sees is the time.

And today, he just can't seem to say No.

"Alright," he agrees with a nod and a slanted smile, "As long as you promise to wear your seatbelt—" Korkie groans and rolls his eyes. Obi-Wan smiles. "And—" he continues loudly, holding up a finger as if to halt any oncoming complaints, "And if you consider spending an extra day or two with me before school starts so we can go up to Qui-Gon's camp."

"Fishing?" Korkie guesses, neither excited nor deterred by the prospect.

"I was actually thinking we could take his old Jeep out for some off-road driving lessons."

"Really!?"

"You can't—"

"I would never tell Mom."

Obi-Wan will tell Satine. He always does.

Sometimes, it's still fun to play the game.

"You're sure this is okay?" Korkie asks once the day's purchases are stuffed inside his new backpack, his tone almost uncomfortably earnest, "I feel bad about skipping lunch."

The kid probably thinks his dad is going to sit in their favorite diner by himself and frown into his french fries while Dex tries to cheer him up with wild stories of far faraway places.

Most times, he would probably be right.

Korkie also thinks no one has called Obi-Wan Daddy since he was seven.

"Get out of here," Obi-Wan insists with a smile, "I've got places to be."

That earns him a laugh.

There's an odd itch at the base of Obi-Wan's skull. One that crawls all the down his spine.

There's a secret in his throat he can't seem to swallow.

There's a low husky voice in the back of his mind counting down to a beautiful boy's thirty-minute lunch break.

"But that's more than enough time isn't it?"

He should leave.

Walk right out to the car and drive to Dex's alone exactly the way his son thinks he will.

"See you later, Dad!"

"Enough time for Daddy to fuck me—"

But, today, Obi-Wan just can't seem to say No.

[part one][part two]

[mimi-fy]

Why these scenes are so important to understand the relationship between j*mmy and curly

(Ik the quality is shit, sue me.)

In another theory i wrote there is a re-up game of mouthwashing called how fish is made, there is a special relationship between a fish and a parasite. There is a dying fish as seen above, the thing in its mouth isn’t its tounge it’s a louse. The dying fish being curly and the louse being jimmy, what the louse does is that it attaches itself to a fish. It eats away the fishes tongue and becomes the new tongue for the fish, it basically now freeloads off the fish. Eating all of the food for the fish and leaving only scraps for the main body/fish to eat causing the fish to slowly die. This can easily be interpreted as the true friendship of curly and jimmy. Curly is responsible has good reputation, got the job for jimmy, but jimmy just freeloads off of curly. And takes advantage of the fact that they’ve known each other for along time. Jimmy becomes curlys tongue because jimmy can easily manipulate curly and put words in his mouth, his manipulation is proved successful when curly still trusts him after what jimmy did, and trusts him to take care of it. Jimmy becomes curlys new tongue after curly is unable to be captain. He puts words in curlys mouth and gives the words to others ‘hes the one who crashed the ship’ ‘he’d want me to be captain’ so jimmy steps in as captain. But hes just a tongue, hes all say and no do. And the things he says are horrible and not even kind or comforting to anyone. The fish and parasite are seen as friends and go way back (said by the parasite) that the parasite ate his tounge and they’ve been coworkers ever since. Also jimmy and curly have known each other for a lengthy time. The eating of another tongue, can mean that the parasite now acts for the body that the parasite is incharge and the fish doesn’t know it. Meaning that, jimmy is incharge, its jimmy world and not curlys. This is a very logical relationship as we get a scene where we are crawling through curlys mouth, meaning that we (jimmy) are a parasite that latched onto curlys mouth and have came out after along time. To the point where jimmy has ruined his mouth and curly can no longer talk or choose something for himself. He has came out to finally take charge and responsibility and can no longer free load. He came out and now sees the rotting corpse of the fish (rotting body of curly) and sees how he deprived curly, how he caused this. So why did Jimmy become curlys ‘tongue’? At the end of the first part of how fish is made we get a unique dialogue that can be assumed as jimmy talking. ‘I always hated hearing.(jimmy)’ ‘Alot of people are going through the same thing. You’re not alone.(curly)’This is possible that curly is comforting jimmy after jimmy committed a crime/has addiction problems. To which jimmy replies ‘no! My pain is more tragic, grander! Deeper! If only you knew.’ Jimmy acting like a victim. Then follows up in his own head or in voice ‘that’s not true of course. I hate talking about it. Because i hate people who talk about it. And that’s not very nice, that’s not okay, that’s not how you can be about all this (this crime or mistakes)’ jimmy hates people who talks about his mistakes. That can be curly. Curly knows about jimmys mistakes but still sees him as his friend. But curly comforts him and talks to him about it to which jimmy hates. So jimmy uses it to his advantage and acts like a victim, clinging to curly. And curly who feels too bad to let him go after seeing jimmys ‘struggle of a life’. Jimmy became curlys tongue, so curly couldn’t speak about his mistakes. To also take power over others and make curly take responsibility instead of jimmy taking responsibility. Which explains why he snaps as curly can no longer take charge for him after the crash.

Thx for reading if you like my content i have another analysis’s about the connection from how fish is made to mouthwash down bellow! (The ending also mentioned something about a usp but i cant find out what i stands for)

[brokencages]

explaining my bpd neji headcanon

this started out as a self projecting hc for a modern au and then it spiraled and now i have a lot to say! sorry if it's incoherent and rambly that is simply who i am.

he displays a lot of symptoms common in (though not exclusive to) bpd. a pattern of unstable relationships, an unstable sense of self/identity issues, trouble managing anger, black and white thinking, fear of abandoment, self harming or suicidal behaviors etc.

first off is his black and white worldview in part 1. he believed in predetirmined fate and that you could do nothing to change it. he uses very extreme words, which i highlighted below, like never, always, unchangable, inevitable, useless, etc. all leaving no room for grey areas or other possibilities, even if deep down he doesn't believe it completely.

he cares for hinata but due to his views and his anger against the upper branch, it 'outweighs'/overshadows the good and he lashes out against her, this is reminiscant of splitting to me. the times we see him lashing out at her violently that had to be stopped by others were impulsive also, split seconds brusts of anger.

he has very little sense of self. from philosophy of fate being predetermined and unchanging, growing up in the lower branch being told his purpose is to protect hinata, and this scene:

it makes sense, it doesn't matter who he is or how he sees himself, since that never spared him or his father. he clings to the label of prodigy, which reminds me of when i struggle with my own sense of self, i latch onto a certain way i'm percieved or a character (cough cough neji).

his role is a genius and he will fulfill that, his role is in the lower branch and he will not escape that, and naruto's role is to lose, and he will not escape that. except when naruto didn't lose and that shattered his whole worldview.

when he previously devalued naruto, hinata, and lee for being weak and trying to defy fate, he was not only called out for doing the same (yk his projection/hypocrisy), but proven wrong, which led him to deeply respecting and idealizing naruto, swinging between the two extremes.

abandonment issues are kind of harder since they're not really shown, but the trauma lf losing his dad very likely resulted in that. so. and something that could be connected to it also is how he feels about weakness:

he's strong, and he's valued because of it. with what he said about how you must live in the boundaries of the judgements set by others and how he avoids being seen as weak, that could him not wanting to be abandoned if he's ever seen that way or if he goes beyond the boundaries of what others see.

during the kidomaru fight he also goes to great lengths to win, which yk happens in all the fights, but he also brings up how he can't lose BECAUSE he's a genius. he was fighting for his friends and naruto (and sasuke... sasuneji sneak...) but i think it's interesting how he still brings this up.

(btw i love the kidomaru fight so much btw it's one of my favourite fights because of neji's development and the scenes where his hair is all loose and when the bird flies overhead and the feather lands in his hand)

now onto self harming or suicidal behaviors! as far as i know it's a common sentiment that his death was suicide, and i agree. while it was to protect hinata and naruto you can't tell me he wasn't atleast a little suicidal T_T he believes that the only fate we share is death, and knows the only way to be rid of the caged bird seal is to die, that's a pretty easy road to suicidal ideation and one i personally relate to. with my chronic illness and mental health issues, i'd only be rid of them if i died, which did lead me to being suicidal and actually attempting.

okay i dont know how to end this but i think those are my big major points. looking at the diagnostic criteria for bpd he hits most. stress related paranoia or loss of contact with reality/dissociation is just an easy headcanon even if its not shown in canon.

okay bye ty for reading 🤍🤍🤍

[wardenparker]

In the Still of the Night, ch 10

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Job loss, big life changes, moving, I guess this is growing up. Summary: There are more changes in store for you and Zach and more difficult decisions to make, but sunlight is rising over the next phase of your lives. Notes: Well, my darlings, it looks like this is the last full chapter of Zach and Dio's sweet soulmate tale. Next week will be the epilogue and then the following week we'll embark on a whirlwind romance with Javi Gutierrez!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9

It takes a few rings for the sound to penetrate that deep fog of sleep. Comfortably curled around your body, Zach sleeps better now than he ever has before and he is reluctantly pulled away from it as his phone goes off on the nightstand behind him. “What the fu-“ it’s still early, only two in the morning so he’s not expecting anyone to be calling.

"Good morning, Mr. Wellison." The captain's voice isn't unfamiliar to him, but it certainly is a shock to hear in the middle of the night.

“Captain.” Zach completely untangles from you as he sits up, trying to keep his voice quiet as he slips out of the bed. “This is a surprise sir. What can I do for you?”

"We're making calls this morning." The Captain pauses, an audible frown in his voice. "I'm sorry, I'm just seeing now that you took shore leave. It must be quite early for you back in the States."

Zach pulls away the phone from his ear and checks the time. “It’s two thirteen.” He tells the captain honestly. “That’s alright, is everything okay?” He’s confused why the captain would be making calls.

"Unfortunately not." The older man clears his throat, grunts something unintelligible, and harrumphs audibly. "It appears as though the repairs needed on the ship are more extensive than we originally thought," he explains, a glum note of unhappiness in his voice. "And all crew members are being given the option to be transferred to one of the other two ships owned by our company, or to take a buy out of the remainder of their contract."

“Uhhh.” He’s still half asleep and not running on all cylinders, so he turns to see you turning over towards him, still asleep. “I see, um, when do we need to let you know?” He asks, not wanting to make a decision without talking to you.

"We're asking everyone to make their decision as soon as possible," he explains, and Zach can hear a snuffle in the background. "E-mails will be sent out in the next hour detailing both options, but you'll notice a 48-hour deadline on the decision. We know it's fast, but we want to get everyone transitioned and settled as quickly as possible."

“Thank you for letting me know.” He tells him quietly. “I’ll let you just as soon as I can.” He knows it won’t be easy to instantly make a decision, but he feels like he knows what you will want to do, provided the band is in agreement.

“Good. Thank you.” The captain sounds understandably tired, but it isn’t as if this course of action is his first choice. The cruise had been going extremely well from every point of view except mechanical. “Your club has been a great asset to the company, Wellison. Just know we would be very sad to see you go.”

“Thank you, sir.” He knows the captain had come in to dine several nights and he feels like it’s a great honor to be complimented like this.

"Sorry to wake you." It's fairly obvious that he did, but this day is going to be unpleasant for everyone, she the best he can do is apologize. "And Wellison...are you with your soulmate, or should she get a separate call?"

“She’s still sleeping.” He tells him. “I’ll talk to her just as soon as she wakes up. No need to call her separately. I’m sure you have plenty of calls to make.”

"Roger that." The captain clears his throat again and nearly sighs. "Look forward to hearing from you both. Good morning, Wellison." And that's it. Just the click of the line going dead as the call vanishes from the screen of Zach's phone.

Zach stands there for a moment, processing the fact that both of you either have to move to other ships or be paid out for the rest of the contract. He looks down at the phone and then over at you in the darkness of the room before he creeps back over to the bed to climb back in. Things will be changing again and he knows that you will want to talk to the band before making any decisions.

******

The alarm you've set for the morning is on the early side for a Sunday, but you had wanted to get back over to your grandmother's house to sort through some more things before having one last dinner with your parents. The blaring pulls you out of an anxious dream, and you nearly jump to shut it off.

Zach hums, not asleep as you reach for your phone. He hadn't been able to go back to sleep the rest of the night. Too busy worrying and wondering about the future, even curled around you. He watches as you turn back towards him and gives you a small smile. "It's too early." He tells you.

“I know baby, I’m sorry.” You pout but lean in to press a kiss to his lips. “We said we wanted to get stuff done before we fly out tonight.”

He takes the kiss very willingly. "About that..." He pulls back and sighs softly. "I don't think we are going to be flying out tonight."

“Oh god,” you groan instantly. Zach’s obviously more awake than you are so maybe he’s gotten a notification from the airline or something. “Did our flight get cancelled?”

"No." He sits up and pulls you against him. "Do you want to talk now or after coffee?"

“That sounds…serious.” In a week you’ve lost your beloved grandmother, had a falling out with your mother, married your soulmate, and then started to reconcile with your mother. Any more of an emotional rollercoaster and you might just curl up into a ball and stay there. “Better have coffee while you give me the bad news.”

"I don't know if it's bad news," he admits quietly, but he kisses your forehead and unwinds his arm from around you to slip out of the bed. He reaches for his pants. "I'll go grab some coffee from the lobby and bring it back."

“Grab some muffins?” It’s a quick breakfast and enough to get you through, plus it will give you an extra minute or two. “I’ll throw myself under a quick shower and actually be awake when you get back.”

"Of course." He pulls his pants on and grabs his shirt. "Maybe they will have those raspberry Danishes." The hotel actually got their breakfast breads from a local bakery and they were delicious.

“Fingers crossed.” You give him another kiss and pop out of bed to hit the shower, wondering what the hell else could have happened in just the space of a week.

Your room is on the first floor of the hotel, so it's just a quick trip down the hall to make two large paper cups of coffee, sweetener and creamer like you enjoy. Moving over to the continental breakfast to pick up a plate of pastries.

By the time he comes back you’re just finishing up in the bathroom in your last set of fresh clothing. “Alright…” he’s brought back a plate full of pastry choices and your perfect cup of coffee, and you sit down together at the little table by the room’s picture window. “What’s happened?”

"I got a call this morning." He explains after taking a sip of the coffee. "Surprised that it didn't wake you, but you were exhausted last night."

“You got a call this morning?” You really must have been sleeping like a damn log, it was only 8 when your alarm went off. You should have woken up to his phone ringing. It only takes a second, though, before your mind catches up with you. “Is Shane okay? Did something happen?”

"I think Shane is okay." He promises. "The phone call was from the captain."

“Just rip the band-aid off, baby. What’s going on?”

“The ship needs more repairs than they expected.” It was not secret amongst the crew that every port day was spent trying to repair what was breaking but it needs an overhaul. “They are offering to buy out our contracts or put us on other ships.”

‘We’re losing our jobs’ is definitely not the bad news you thought you were about to get, and for a minute all you can do is sit and stare at Zach in a panic. “We’re…” you have to remind yourself to breathe. Things are very different now than they were even a few days ago. Still, it’s a shock. “Shit…”

“Yeah.” Zach chuckles, knowing his own racing thoughts had matched the panic that raced across your face. “We could move to another ship…” he pauses, “but we might not get the same ship.”

"I hate those odds." They could put Zach anywhere and he would be an immeasurable asset to a crew. But you? You'll be singing 80s ballads in an ill-fitting nylon gown faster than you can blink. "But I gotta talk to the band. Shit."

“I know. I figured that you would want to see what their thoughts are before making a decision.” He takes another sip of his coffee.

"What do you want to do?" He must have been thinking about it. About what he would do if the decision was just up to the two of you.

“Baby, where you go, I go.” Zach promises. “Unless you want me to take the ship assignment while you figure things out? Keep money coming in?”

“The day after we get married and you want me to be singing sad songs?” Teasing him is about the only thing that makes you feel normal right now, but you slump back in your chair with your coffee and shake your head. “If not for Gram, that might have been necessary. But between the funds we have now, the buy out from our contracts, and my inheritance? We have a really good cushion.”

“Okay.” He agrees, secretly relieved that he wouldn’t have to be separated from you. “I wouldn’t want you to sing sad songs.” He chuckles. “We talk to be band, see how they are feeling. Maybe they want to continue the contract, maybe they are tired of tiny cabins.”

"I dunno," you huff out a wry laugh. "Our soulmate cabin was definitely bigger than a New York City one bedroom apartment."

He snorts in agreement. “You aren’t wrong.” He shakes his head.

"I hate to say it." The cup of coffee in your hands is a comfort, warming you through with every sip. "But we should probably stay here a little longer. Talk to Tanya about the place in New York. If we're back on dry land, maybe we can speak to the current tenants of that apartment."

“We could fly out there, take a look in person.” He nods. “See what needs to be done to the venue.”

"We should talk to the band and to Tanya before we decide anything." Either way, you realize with a sigh, he's right. You're not flying out tonight. "And I should see if I can get a refund on the plane tickets."

“Fingers crossed.” He sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to wake up at two o’clock this morning to worry about this.”

"Two?" Your face drops. "Baby, please tell me you got back to sleep."

“That’s not a big deal.” He shoots you a grin. “We used to get less sleep when we were partying on the ship.”

"Yeah, but we weren't sitting up in bed worrying," you remind him, though your expression turns from worry into a wry smile. "We were drinking and dancing and then going home to have sex."

“Maybe.” He concedes that it was definitely a lot more fun. “But at least I got to hold you while I worried.”

"Next time wake me so I can comfort you instead, okay?" One more sip of your coffee and it's gone, so you set down your cup to lean over and kiss him. "I should call the band. It's the afternoon in Rome already."

He knows it’s pointless to argue that you needed your rest, so he just hums. “Yeah, they should be out and about.”

Something compels you to FaceTime Shane instead of just calling him, and for a second you think maybe you've missed your friend a hell of a lot more than you realized. One hand holds your phone and the other reaches for Zach, anchoring you with support as you push through yet another wave of uncertainty.

As soon as the call connects, Zach knows that the band has heard the news and has probably been freaking out about it all. "Hey man." He lifts his free hand in a wave. "How's it going?"

"Been better." Shane shakes his head and shrugs. In the background you can see the rest of the band sitting around a table and more than a few empty plates and glasses. You caught them after lunch, it seems. "How are you guys doing?"

"Do you want to tell them first?" Zach asks playfully, looking over and tossing you a grin.

"Good news first." You agree, squeezing his hand quickly before letting go to waggle your fingers in viewof the camera. "We got married yesterday."

Zach laughs as the band erupts into shouts of surprise, well wishes and questions. All rapid fire at the same time and sounding like general chaos.

"Everybody chill the fuck out," you're laughing and feeling light all over again, especially when Diana pops into the frame to scream about not getting to be your maid of honor.

“I told you.” Zach laughs and he holds up his hand. “It’s been surreal.”

Another round of screaming happens, as if they all didn't quite believe it until they saw both of you wearing rings, but the joy from your friends is so much sweeter than last night's reception of the news -- no matter how necessary the conversations were that followed.

"That's not why we called," you admit, still laughing at Keo trying to inspect your rings through the phone screen.

“So I take it you got the call?” Cliff asks. “Shane wanted to call earlier but we thought they wouldn’t have called you yet.”

Zach snorts. “Got the call at 2 A.M. over here.” He says. “Not exactly the wake up call I wanted.”

"Cap didn't exactly check out the time difference, did he?" Rick rolls his eyes. "How are you guys feeling about it?" The band all know damn well that you and Zach come as a unit. They aren't going to fight that. It would make them pretty shitty friends if they did.

“Well, that’s why we are calling.” Zach admits. “We wanted to hear your thoughts on it.” They don’t know there is a possibility of another path, but he wants to hear what they think.

"Well...we don't really have a choice." Cliff motions between himself and Rick. "Work is work."

Zach looks over at you. “What if there was another option?”

Shane snorts. "I'm not moving to Oklahoma, man."

Zach nods towards you, wanting you to tell them about the wonderful gift your grandmother left you. “Babe?”

"Thing is..." You sit up straight in your chair like you're just sitting across the table from your friends. Your coworkers. Your bandmates. "I've inherited...something kind of massive from my Gram." In an odd way it feels like bragging, although you definitely don't mean it to be. "Turns out she owned some real estate in Brooklyn that used to belong to my grandfather's family."

"Out with it." Shane insists, seeing you practically squirm in your seat.

"I..." you're holding your breath without meaning to. "Inherited a nightclub."

Instead of the chaos of the announcement of your marriage, this is met with complete silence. Nothing is heard from the other side of the call, not even a chuckle of disbelief as they all stare at you, dumbfounded. Zach looks away from them, to you, and then back at the screen. “Did we lose you?” He asks, thinking the call might have frozen and that’s why they aren’t even blinking.

“You fucking what?” Shane chokes.

Zach chuckles. “I know, I felt the same in the lawyer’s office.” He admits. “We don’t know everything that needs to be done to it, but…” He looks over at you and smiles while holding your hand. “How would you guys like to stay on dry land for a while?”

“Are you fucking serious?” The rest of the band still hasn’t broken yet, but Shane looks like he’s about to cry. He’s clinging to Diana — who also has a distinct shine to her eyes — and gawping.

“Yeah.” Instantly you’re sniffling too, bobbing your head in agreement. “We’re serious. It might be a shit ton of work, but we have to at least try.”

“It’s in New York, so I understand if some of you are hesitant. Rent is high and it’s tough to make it there, but I think we can do it.” Zach murmurs softly. “But could you imagine our own club, like on the ship but we control everything?”

“Does it have a kitchen?” Keo bursts out the question like an explosion. “You’ve got to make your food!”

“That’s one of the questions we need to look into. I think there is, but is it what we will need?” He looks back over to you. “We want to fly out to New York to take a look.”

“Your room at the apartment hasn’t been touched.” Diana promises. “I hope it’s enough room for both of you.”

“I don’t think we will need it.” Zach looks over at you again. “At least— not for long.”

“That’s the other thing.” The sheepish look on your face is almost a grin. “Um…I also inherited a place to live. In Brooklyn.”

“Holy shit.” Rick exhales, shaking his head. “So- this is legit. I mean, we could have a permanent place to play?”

“We need to talk to the People who have been using the space. Figure out what the theater and everything needs. But…” You blow out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and nearly giggle. “Yeah. This is legit.”

“I’m in.” Keo blurts out. “Immediately. Whatever we need to do. Invest in repairs, swing a hammer.” He has worked plenty of construction jobs to make ends meet when the band first got started. “Don’t get me wrong, the cruise contract was amazing, but if we could do that on land? It would be amazing.”

“No landlord, no dick bosses, no bullshit bureaucracy?” Cliff groans with delight. “The cruise ship was fun, I’m glad I got to travel, but hell yes.”

“Shane? Rick?” Zach asks, looking at the other members. “What do you guys think?”

“Fucking obviously.” Rick huffs at the same time Shane snorts out a “Duh.”

Shane just shakes his head, your amazing and supportive surrogate brother through so many hard years, and a beaming grin cracks his face. “Look at you, kid. Making dreams come true.”

“Not me,” you insist, but the smile in your face matches his anyway. “That’s my Gram looking out for all of us.”

Zach shakes his head. “You also immediately wanted to look after your band.” He’s not going to let you not take your own due credit.

“Of course.” You practically bean at them across the phone call. “They’re my family.”

There’s a surprising amount of blushing and cooing coming from a group of musicians and Zach grins at the way they all repeat the sentiment back to you. “When do you guys plan on flying back to the US?”

“Another day or two?” Shane looks around and all the guys nod.”

“What are you guys planning?” Diana asks with bright eyes. “Maybe you could take a honeymoon?”

He hadn’t even thought about a honeymoon, but he looks over at you to see what your feelings are. “What do you want to do, sweetheart?”

“I guess we could.” You admit, smiling a little wider. “We hadn’t even considered it because we thought we were going back to work.”

“That’s true.” He leans in and nudges his nose against yours. The practical planner inside him is begging to race to New York and immediately start working to set up the club so you don’t have to touch your inheritance, but he can see that you like the idea. “Where would you want to go?”

“Anywhere. Nowhere.” You beam at him again. “As long as I’m with you I don’t care.”

The sound from the band is a unanimous groan of disgust followed by more raucous laughter. “Okay, you guys figure out what you’re doing,” Diana insists. “We’ll bring the stuff from your cabin back to New York with us.”

“Oh god!” Zach’s eyes widen as he realizes that he had completely forgotten about the rest of your belongings. “I’ll send you some money.” He promises Shane, knowing that he might have to ship some boxes of books.

“We’ll manage the logistics, brother,” the older man promises, and points a thumb at his own soulmate. “I’ve got the Queen of organization to help.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at Diana, waving at the other half of his former roommate.

“Anytime,” She promises. “Now go be cute and in love.”

The call ends and Zach leans over, kissing your cheek just to do exactly what Diana said, making you smile. “So what do you want to do, babe?” he murmurs.

“Nothing too big?” It feels wasteful to plan a world tour when you just talked to your friends about starting a business. “Maybe a few days someplace sunny and warm? Even a week if it’s not too expensive.”

“That sounds nice.” He bites his lip and waggles his brows. “Somewhere you have to wear a bikini?”

“If that’s what you want.” You practically snort at how excited he is for the idea.

“Why don’t we rent a little bungalow on a beach somewhere?” He suggests. “Swim, bonfire on the beach, grilling? Lots of sex?”

“Sounds like a hell of a vacation to me.” Leaning into his side, you have a gentle — if deep — sigh. “After the week we’ve had, I think we’ve earned an actual vacation.”

“I think that’s fair.” He chuckles. “We spend the weekend at a little bungalow and then meet everyone in New York? Take a look at our future?”

“We’ve got to check out of here in…” You glance at your watch. “Two hours. I say let’s do some research and figure out where we can transfer our tickets to? But we definitely need to go see Tanya before we leave town.”

“That works for me.” Zach nods and sighs softly. “I’m glad they were all so quickly on board.” He chuckles.

“The chance to do what we love and what we’re good at, on our own terms? I would have been shocked if anyone said no.”

“We’re going to have to work our asses off.” Zach bites his lip. “We need to make a Facebook page, right? Post pictures of the venue, clips of you singing on the ship. Maybe some of my dishes?” He asks, knowing that getting the word out is key to the success of the theatre.

“How about we make a list of what we’ll need to do and any thoughts we have about doing it on the flight?” Figuring you’ll at least be flying somewhere, you lean over to kiss him and get to your feet again with a stretch and a groan. “But Tanya will have information on the current tenants and I don’t want to make any plans until we talk to them.”

“I agree.” He nods. “We will make sure that no one is left homeless.”

“I’m going to get some more coffee for us, then we can pick out a honeymoon destination and get the ball rolling. Sound good, baby?”

Today had taken a turn. An enormous one, really. And while you can’t say you really know what’s coming next in this crazy, chaotic life — you have Zach. And maybe, just maybe, that’s all you really need.

******

Four days later, incredibly relaxed and extremely tan, Zach wheels yours and his carry ons off the plane while you check your messages. Once you had decided on your location and arrived, you had switched off your phones and just focused on each other. Taking a true mini honeymoon. “Do we want to get a taxi or take the subway?” He asks, not sure how many transfers are needed to get to Diana’s apartment.

“I hate taking luggage on the subway,” you admit, sheepish and lopsided grin fully in place in your face. “One more indulgence?”

“I don’t blame you.” He snorts and nods. “Yeah, let’s get a taxi.” Despite having spend three days indulging, you both had been frugal with your money. Zach grilling and cooking in the little bungalow kitchen rather than eating out and drinking.

“It’s a little bit of a ride; it’ll be worth it.” As Zach heads for the taxi stand, you trail just a step behind while you text Diana and Shane that you’re on your way over. They’ve been back in New York for two days and reportedly jet lagged as hell.

“Why don’t we pick up some food?” He asks. “Or is there a bodega nearby?”

"There's a bodega and a little Halal takeout place on the bottom floor of the building." Oh yeah, you're going to miss that place. "Best lamb kebab you've ever had in your life."

“Well, why don’t we order dinner for everyone?” He asks, walking with you towards the baggage claim. “I think we’re tired, they’re tired, an easy dinner is called for.”

"Then it's a good thing I know their orders." You send along another text letting Diana and Shane know you'll be bringing dinner along with your smiling selves, and then stuff your phone back in your pocket.

“Okay. Here we are.” The baggage claim is already running and he starts scanning for your luggage. “You want to go get us a taxi while I grab our bags, babe?”

“Sure.” A kiss to his cheek and you’re off again.

Taxi stand. Baggage claim. A drive from JFK all the way out to the two-bedroom apartment that you’ve shared with Shane and Diana for years.

It’s bittersweet knowing that this won’t be home anymore, but there is an excitement to the next part of your journey.

The apartment is a typical pre-war building, the restaurant on the bottom and there is a door to the left that leads to the stairs for the apartments. “This is a nice building.” He hums as he opens the door and reaches back to help you out of the taxi.

"It's pretty decent. Landlords are nice enough but drag their feet getting anything done. The super is this old Russian guy that I swear partied with Rasputin. At least, that's the vibe he gives off." You thank the driver and pass him a few bills as payment when he finishes taking your bags out of the trunk. "Our dinner order should be done by now, we can grab that and head upstairs."

“You remember that I used to be the maintenance guy for the building I lived in, don’t you?” He asks. “If Diana needs something immediately, I don’t mind doing it. Especially if we are staying here for a while.”

“Of course I remember.” Inside the first floor of the building, you slip into the restaurant and get in line to pick up your order. “The tenants in the townhouse said their real estate agent found them a few good leads so I don’t know how long we’ll be here but I know Di would love the help.”

“Sounds good.” He hadn’t had his own tools, so he didn’t have to store or sell them when he took the cruise contract, but he figures he can pick some up. He would need them for the theatre anyway. And helping you with any maintenance at the townhouse when you move in.

It’s a relieving feeling, to put your key in the lock of the apartment and push inside, calling out through the relatively small space that you’re home. And it’s even more relieving when you hear a thundering set of footsteps and nearly get pummeled by one of Diana’s remarkably strong bear hugs.

Zach laughs when you squeal and hug your friend back with equal enthusiasm. He’s never met Diana in person, but he feels like he’s already a friend through the phone conversations he had been looped in on with Shane. “Where’s your worst half?” He asks jokingly when you both pull apart.

“Shut the fuck up, Wellie.” Shane laughs, sauntering into the living room ready to dole out hugs of his own.

“Oh so she’s not the prettier, smarter, nicer side?” Zach snorts, reaching out and pulling Shane in for a hug and slapping his back with a few harsh thumps.

“Of course she is.” He returns the hearty back slaps and laughs. “But you deprived me of my only chance to be a best man so I’m gonna give you shit.”

“It was her idea.” He throws you under the bus with a grin and a wink. “Blame her.”

“Absolutely.” You grin, happily accepting a bone breaking hug from your friend. “All my fault.”

Diana grins at Zach and holds her arms open. “I feel like a hug is appropriate.” She promises and Zach nods, chuckling as he moves in to embrace her. “Nice to meet you in person.”

“It’s about time, too,” you agree, dabbing fake tears from your eyes and sniffling dramatically.

Zach groans playfully, rolling his eyes and pulling away to give Diana a commiserating look. “She’s hilarious, isn’t she?”

“Hey.” Shane flicks Zach’s ear and steals the bag of food from under his arm. “Be nice to your wife!” He orders, heading further into the apartment with everyone’s dinner.

“My wife.” A sappy look crosses his face as he repeats that he has to move back over to you for a kiss. “Want me to drop the bags in your room?” He asks. “Which one is it?”

“Our room.” Accepting the kiss with an equally gooey grin, you point down the hall. “Is the last room on the right.”

“Last room on the right.” He repeats and starts to cart the bags down the narrow hall, shuffling slightly.

The place is big enough for three without forcing you to be on top of each other and you’ve always been so grateful to Shane and Diana for being the best of roommates. So much so that now, with Zach here, you’re utterly certain that things would have been just fine if you had had to stay.

Once the bags are deposited, He follows the voices back to the main area to find you three opening containers and filling plates with the delicious smelling foods. “So how are you two feeling being back?” He asks. “Still getting used to the time change?”

“We mostly napped and unpacked yesterday.” Diana passes the rice container back across the table as she fixes her plate. “I have to go back to work tonight so I’m enjoying my last few hours of freedom.”

“Do you have a long shift?” He knows her schedule can be crazy and hopes that you both being here doesn’t disrupt her schedule. Taking the plate you hand him, he starts to fix his own food.

“The usual.” She shrugs and silently thanks Shane with a smile when he adds pickled onions to her plate. “Eleven hours. I’ll come home and have a few hours’ sleep and be normal again by noon.”

“Well, do you want us to wait to go see the theatre?” He asks.

“Oh, no way.” She laughs, waving off the kind gesture easily. “I don’t know the first thing about theaters. You all go and enjoy yourselves. Just let me know if I need to patch up an injury during clean up.”

“Shane will make sure he injures something so you get to baby him.” Zach teases, throwing his friend a grin.

“And?” Shane asks, no trace at all of shame in his voice as he starts to eat.

All three of you laugh, Diana rolling her eyes as she leans in and kisses his cheek. “Of course I will baby you.” She promises playfully. “No Nurse Ratchet.”

“Love you too.” He mumbles through a bite and a grin.

The four of you eat eager, Zach groaning over the flavors and starting to analyze how he could incorporate something into his own meals.

“So the boxes we shipped are getting here on Friday.” Shane tells you and Zach about halfway through lunch. “How long are your tenants going to be in the townhouse for?”

“What did she say again?” Zach asks, looking over at you. “Possibly by the end of the month?”

“Mmhmm.” You nod, letting yourself finish the bite you had just taken. “They’re looking at a couple of places this week. She said it was the push they had been looking for to move closer to their daughter now that they have a grandbaby.” It has actually been a joyful conversation instead of a tense one, as you’d discovered that your grandmother had been renting the townhouse in Brooklyn Heights to the same couple for years now. They had raised their daughter in that house, but now that She was married with a baby and the couple were retired, they were talking about leaving the city. “If all goes well, it’ll just be a few weeks.”

“Have the guys found a place yet?” Zach asks, frowning slightly. He knows that this is your room, but the rest of the band didn’t have apartments waiting on them.

“They’re subletting in Queens while they look around for something better.” Diana had been talking to Keo about it just this morning. “Rick’s cousin’s place.”

“Okay…..good.” That makes him relax a little more and he takes another bite of his food. “Hopefully they can find something closer, but at least they have a place.”

“They’ll be good for now.” You agree, equally as relieved that your friends have found space. “The worst-case scenario is that Rick stays with his cousin and Keo takes the room here.”

“Yeah.” He knows that there are options, but his past tends to make him a little more sensitive to those issues. “So, we’ll go tomorrow and see what the theatre is like.”

“The townhouse is three bedrooms,” you remind Zach gently, hearing the worry in his voice. “They won’t have to worry. They can always choose to stay with us.”

“I know.” He loves that you understand his worry and reaches out to squeeze your knee. “It will all work out.”

“One way or another.” You’re all going to take care of each other. That’s a promise that was made as long time ago and you have no intention of letting it go by the wayside now that you can really do something about it.

After the meal is finished, Zach looks over at Shane and Diana, catching both of them giving a small yawn. “Why don’t you two go catch a nap before Diana has to go to work?” He suggests. “We can clean up and settle in.”

“Are you sure?” Diana smothers another yawn.

“Of course.” Zach nods, reaching for her plate. “You need sleep to save lives.”

"We've got it, guys," you promise them. "Go snuggle up and we'll see you in a bit. We'll take care of the place."

Zach watches them disappear down the hall, and he smiles as he stands up. “I’ll wash these up if you will put up the food?”

"And when we're done, I'll give you the incredibly brief tour." There is no such thing as a large apartment in New York City unless you're a millionaire, so there isn't much of a tour to give, but this place will still be Zach's home for a little bit so you want him to feel comfortable.

“Is there laundry in the building?” He asks, knowing that it would be a miracle to have laundry in the actual unit and he doesn’t think that is going to happen.

"In the basement." It's good enough that it's there, you're not too sore about it not being in your own unit. "We all said we would do our own stuff but we ended up sharing things anyway. It just depended on who was having a shittier week that week."

“That seems logical and nice.” He admits with a chuckle. “Sometimes, a basement laundry in a building was the way I would get my own clothes washed.” He admits.

"Hell yeah." The two of you stack up dishes and leftovers together and head into the kitchen. "You do what you gotta do. I'm glad you were able to find places to get things done."

The kitchen is small, tiny even. A glaring light on the fact that most New Yorkers don’t cook at home. The number of restaurants to big of a lure.

"Is it bad that I'm thinking more about getting into our new place than being mindful that I'll be leaving here soon?" You're excited -- and after the haze of combined mourning and steps forward that you and Zach went through over the last ten days or so, it's an odd feeling.

“Not at all.” He admits with a shameless grin. “I had thought to ask if you wanted to walk by the townhouse tomorrow.”

“Absolutely.” There is absolutely no hesitation in that for you. “Let’s get up early and go walk around the neighborhood? See if there’s a good place for breakfast?”

“Also get a feel for it.” He hums. “The theatre is within walking distance, right?”

“Yeah. Three blocks away.” It’s enough to feel like you can leave the place and get a breather, but close enough that if something happens you can be there in a matter of minutes. Perfect, as far as small business ownership is concerned. “I can’t believe they’ve been using it for a cooking class pop up. That’s so weird but also kind of genius?”

“Yeah, and that means there has to be some kind of kitchen set up.” He reasons. “More than just theatre snacks.”

The nightmares scenario had been finding out that the place had a bar and a single popcorn machine, but that seems to not be the case at all. Right more it’s sounding like more kitchen than theater, which means Zach might actually have some good resources to build on. “At this point I think I’m most curious about what kind of office and workspace there is.”

“There’s the real question.” He hums in agreement. “That and what kind of seats are in the theatre.”

“From the way the manager was talking, it sounded like tables.” You’re hoping for tables. Praying for tables. But the key is that they have to be big enough tables to eat at.

“And when we have a chance to remodel the way we want, would you want booths?” He asks curiously.

“Personally, I’d love a mix.” The dream has been building in your head for a few days now and it’s really starting to take shape. “Old school supper club with a floor show style.” You grin sheepishly. “I used to watch White Christmas all the time when I was a kid and I dreamed of getting to perform at Novello’s.”

“Exclusive booths and open tables?” He asks, trying to recall the movie.

“Exactly.” The smile on your face goes a bit dreamy. “And plenty of space to dance.”

“A bigger dance floor than on the cruise ship?” He asks playfully. The dance floor in the club had been a moderate size, but nothing grand.

“Maybe.” The two of you dance around each other now, sidestepping around the little kitchen as he washed the dishes and you put things away. “However big we can manage, really.”

“We will make it happen.” He reaches for your waist and presses his lips to yours. “Our dreams baby.”

“They’re starting a hell of a lot sooner than we thought.” And in some ways, being thrown into the deep end of the pool to sink or swim is going to be incredibly exciting.

“Shit.” He snorts, pulling you close and pressing his forehead against yours. “My real dream came true the day I discovered you were my soulmate.”

“I love you too.” You grin and hug him closer, holding on to every good breath. Every moment is good with Zach and you refuse to let go.

Zach leans back and gazes into your eyes. He has come so far. Learned tough lessons and overcome adversity that might completely overwhelm someone. For some time, he had let his own inner demons take over. Until Justin had taken a second look at him, believed in him. Until Toby had taken a chance on him. Given him a passion to redirect his emotions. Until you had loved him. Given him unwavering love and support. He can only hope that he makes you happy a fraction what you make him feel. Hopes that you will always be proud to carry his name. So many nights, he has stared up at the stars, either on that park bench when he had nothing or leaning against the railing of the cruise ship, and wondered what the future could possibly hold for him.

Now, now he knows that his future is you.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

[recurring-polynya]

It's been forever since I recapped a thing, so, hey, who wants to watch 2005 Bleach OAV The Sealed Sword Frenzy with me?

[00:12] Cold open to a temple in the woods that's got roughly 300 shinigami hanging around, chillin'.

[0:23] Who the hell are these guys? Are they Kidou Corps? They don't look like Kidou Corps, but they are chanting a lot and (failing to) maintain some sort of seal.

lol, it doesn't matter, this ain't about them.

[0:43] RIP

We are not even one entire minute into this OAV and already, at least 100 shinigami randos have bit it. Superb.

After this, it zooms out to reveal that all of this is taking place in the World of the Living, aka Soul Society's remote toxic spiritual waste repository.

[1:27] Cut to the Kurosaki clinic, where, as per usual, Ichigo is just trying to have a normal one.

Banter with Rukia ensues, where she accuses him of getting fat (???) and "dressing like a pervert", and also announces that she has been studying the fashion of the Living World (this will be semi-relevant later). By the way, Ichigo's underwear peaks out of the waistband of his low-slung cargo pants repeatedly during this scene (for 2005 ambiance) so maybe Rukia has a point here.

[2:30] Obsessed with this little maneuver Rukia does, diving into Ichigo's closet. Ichigo...pretends to be practicing his interpretive dance. You can tell who grew up an Inuzuri street rat and who didn't.

[2:50] Renji shows up, pretends to be a cop, and shoots Ichigo's dad. We've all seen it.

(don't worry about Isshin, it just hit his hair)

[4:28] Scene change, wardrobe change. We are now at the American Burger, and Renji is wearing his Chappy shirt and dick necklace. Once again, we've all seen it.

I told you the thing about Rukia studying Living World fashion would be important later.

Ichigo tries to get Renji to explain what's going on, but Renji is cagey about--OH MY GOD!! HANATAROU IS HERE! HANATAROUUUUUUU! He's wearing the most amazing shorts I have ever seen. Why is he here? Even he's not sure!!

Renji follows up with:

In my on-going obsession with the way Bleach characters address each other, I love the way Renji calls him "Fourth Division." He's not mean about it, it's almost like he's reminding him he's on duty. Did Renji and Hanatarou get deployed on this mission together? What is even going on? Unfortunately, these are not details that concern Sealed Sword Frenzy, instead we get interrupted with an explosion.

SHORTS!!

[6:28] They run outside to fight the villain, who is a shinigami who is really into knives. Renji attempts to shoot him with his shotgun, which doesn't seem to be very effective. I can only imagine that this is some attempt of the Gotei's to "blend in" or some nonsense?? I guess Renji must be in a gigai if they were eating and Yuzu could see him. Anyway, a thing I want to mention is that SSF has a lot of really good rolling on the ground sequences and I am going to gif them all for you:

How am I only seven minutes into this thing? I have to go eat lunch. I will be back with more in a bit.

Update: Here is Part 2 and Part 3

[lunarharp]

pretty & cute witch men

[seventh-district]

.

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[inkskinned]

which is fine, because love is love, and you're getting gay-married, so it would be kind of ironic if love was only sometimes love.

except The King Of Demons (his is Edmund) is always late, to everything, always. which is fair, because time doesn't work in hell, and it's not like he can just catch a bus. except that you specifically asked him not to do this, didn't you, because he's always doing things like this.

He splays out his hands, the light catching on long, ivory claw tips. god, doesn't he know not to wear white to a wedding?

so many people are screaming right now.

it's not that he's the golden child. you guys had normal parents, middle-class. your mom was kind of an "almond mom," according to your fiancée, who pursed their lips when they found out about how your mom used to wrinkle her nose any time you asked for an extra snack in your lunchbox.

you close your eyes for a moment. think of your beautiful almost-spouse. ashe. their name like a bloom inside you. how the dress looks on ashe's body, their shy little smile. how they'd walked down the aisle, and you'd both been half-laughing, half-crying. your hands had trembled when you saw them. like the whole world was pouring down your throat, golden. like you were catching a moment and casting it in amber.

ashe'd been the one to help you when your parents were pushing for you to invite edmund. god, the amount of fights you'd gotten in with your parents - the same six sentiments, over and over again.

you'd been sitting on your bed, biting your lip, your fingers hovering over the little button send. ashe'd nuzzled your neck. you used to be close, and i think that's important. but you know your relationship to him the most. i'm willing to make the effort, and i love you no matter what you choose, they'd said. we don't have to if you don't want to, though, no matter what your parents say about him.

you'd thrown yourself down, supine, arm over the eyes. he's just... we are just.... you tried to phrase that-which-is-love-and-rage.

you're the normal twin. your "big thing" was only "being a lesbian." in high school, edmund started being able to make birds die by looking at them. you came home, trying to tell your parents i kissed a girl. i think i'm - and they just kind of nodded at you. edmund was eating the bible in front of them, like a goat.

on the bed, you'd held your hands out vaguely to ashe. edmund is a just always a lot.

ashe had shrugged. don't invite him then. and it was that - that they were okay with either of your decisions - that is why he even got an invite, in the end.

and now here he is, like how you wanted (?), and your hands are red, clenched hard around your bouquet. the officiant is crying. some people are on their knees, praying. some are trying to touch your brother, like he could impart a blessing.

"i made it!" he's triumphant. "i know i'm late, i'm sorry, there was - do you know anything about right-wing politicians?"

"i'm going to fucking kill him," you say, although you're not actually sure who you're talking to, or if he can be killed.

ashe is blinking, their face in a tiny oh of surprise. you take their hand, drop their hand, take their hand again. they blink at your brother. their voice is low but steady. "there's, um. is there a dark halo around him?"

you duck your head to meet their eyes. "fuck, ashe. i'm sorry. he wasn't supposed to -"

"did i miss it?" Edmund is swinging his head around far-too-wide. his 2 sets of horns leave little red mist any time they scour through the air. "I didn't miss the kiss, right?"

the town clerk is in the audience, and she's frowning. you send her an apologetic look. she shakes her head. "as we've discussed," she manages to throw her gentle voice over the din, "the wedding isn't official if someone objects. that is the legal statute. which people tend to be understanding of." she sends a dirty look to edmund, and that makes you love her. she seems completely calm, which makes sense, because she works in the town hall, and this probably isn't even her first demon-showing-up-at-a-wedding.

he somehow hears her, holds his hands up. "i'm not objecting!" the back of the event hall catches on fire. of-fucking-course. "i'm not - don't mind me, uh, please continue." edmund sends a look to the back-of-the-room fire and it whimpers and gutters out. he flashes you a winning smile, and then puts his hand to his king's-garb chest and mouths sorry! and then cartwheels his glittering talons to say go ahead.

"i think i'm going to throw up." the officiant's voice is barely a whisper.

you watch in horror as edmund tries to awkwardly slide into a waiting line of chairs. the sound of begging follows him, people on their knees at hell's king. he pats a few of them on the head, holding up his finger in a sheepish shh! while his touch leaves a bleeding rune on their skin. his hooves click, and his footprints leave ruby-bright fireroses in his wake.

he tries to sit down, but the wooden chairs are made for people and not the lord king of demons, so he has to span his furred hindquarters over two seats. he smiles again, offers you a little wave.

the room is dead silent, minus the weeping. you look back to ashe. you ruined this. you shouldn't have invited him. you spent so much money on this event, and ashe looks so fucking handsome, and you haven't even gotten to kiss them. to make it official.

ashe looks up at you, manages a little smile. "could be worse?"

you feel yourself start to smile too, but then edmund's chairs give out, and he falls directly on the floor, and with his startled yelp, everything around him bursts into the cold whip-crease of hellflame, disintegrating everything that isn't-a-person, including the flowers and the decorations and the cake and the tables. everything you saved for months to be able to afford. the venue that you both agonized over choosing. you picked this place because it was significant to both of you and was equidistant from both your parents and had a deal with the local hotel for people coming out of town. two years of planning, literally burning down around your ears.

edmund manages to stop the fire pretty much immediately, but it's too late. the officiant faints clear away. the town clerk gives you a sympathetic look and mouths see you soon and steps neatly out of the room, taking ashe's parents with her, chatting gently. an arched flower frame collapses into dust with a loud whoomp. pretty much nobody is left in the building, and you're standing at the top of the steps, at the fucking hour of your marriage, and there is nothing left but blue-cold embers, the lights blown out in favor of the eerie hellfire glow.

you sit down, hard. after a few seconds, you feel ashe sit down next to you. you put your head between your knees so you don't puke with rage, which would be somehow more humiliating than everything else happening at the moment.

"okay, it's definitely too soon," they whisper in your ear, "but i have to admit there is something that's going to be so funny later about my name being ashe and my wedding going up in flames." they wrap their hand in yours. "i can't believe we worried about candles. we should have just gone with them instead of worrying about safety. are you okay?"

you send them a look. "am i - am i okay? this absolute bitch -" you gesture with your free hand out to where edmund is trying to piece together the cinders of his chair, "ruined my fucking wedding."

your mom is standing awkwardly in what used to be the "family" row of chairs. your father is absent, of course. she makes a noise at you. "don't call your brother a bitch."

"oh my fucking god." you have to put your head between your knees again, fighting that stupid fucking rage-puke urge. your blood pressure has obviously reached "skyrocket".

"he's here, isn't he? you're not being particularly grateful," your mother says, because of course she does.

"oh my god! ohmygod. ohmygod." you feel yourself hyperventilating, and then you start laughing, and you hate the hyena hysteria of it, the way it pitches dangerously close to a sob. "this is just - this is just like you! this is the fucking - you blow out the candles on the birthday cake! you curse the kids i'm trying to babysit! you get straight-A's on every test without studying, and get all the friends, and everyone is obsessed with you! and then when i graduate from art school, do i fucking get a party? nope! but hey, let's throw edmund a party for his 300,000th tortured soul! and his 300,001st! and fucking everything else. and fuck me, i guess! edmund gets hurt on the playground, let's burn down the playground. i got fucking bullied, and our parents don't even notice. i am fucking struggling, but we need to pay attention to edmund. he gets fucking everything. while we're at it, why don't we let him fucking ruin my wedding!"

you are dimly aware of ashe wrapping one arm around you and then the other, and then you are sobbing into their shoulder.

"oh, come on. stop with the hysterics," your mother chides you. "you had a perfectly fine childhood. all kids fight. you should have gotten the ceremony done faster. and you know i didn't approve of you spending all this money when you have student loans to -"

"respectfully," ashe's voice is cold and cutting while they rub circles on your shaking back, "and i know you're about to be my mother-in-law, but -" you hear them force a smile, "maybe you could choose this moment to leave your daughter the fuck alone?"

you are so fucking in love with ashe at that moment that it stops your weeping like you got hit by a truck. you look up at them, and want to go back to crying, just overwhelmed by the sheer fucking amount you care about them, but then you look over at your mother, and her shocked expression, and you burst out laughing.

your mother makes a few almost fish-like motions with her mouth, and then turns on her heel, stomping over cinders on her way out. and then it is just you and ashe and edmund and how you are half-crying half-laughing quietly to yourself, like a tap that won't stop dripping.

edmund has put the chair down. he is staring at his hands. he is at least 500 pounds and over 7 feet tall (he doesn't use metric, he's the devil). and somehow, right now, he just looks... small. crestfallen.

"yeah, i mean." his voice cracks. there's no boom of thunder or hellhound echo. he sounds like he did as a kid, before the strange powers and the levitating and the souls of the damned. he sounds like he did the night he accidentally melted most of the pieces in your first glass art show. he sounds - like your brother. he puts the heel of his palm against his eye. "i ruined my sister's wedding."

ashe offers him a little half-grin. "i do just want to say i love the aesthetic, by the way. but you did very much ruin my wedding too."

he points at them, finger-guns. "....ruined their wedding too." something in the attempt at humor - how his voice breaks on the words, how lonely he sounds. it makes you have to close your eyes against the sound. "....you seem cool," he says. "it's... it was nice to meet you."

you hear him come over, his hooves clacking slowly on the floor. when you open your eyes, he's sitting closer to you.

he opens his hand. inside are two little ceramic figures. wedding cake toppers. "i... i made them for you two. i figured i would try - how you make art, without magic. i... i took a class, and i made - i made them." he looks down at the little white-dressed people in his wide, calloused palm. "it's... i wanted to be ... good. i..." he looks at you, and then at ashe. "i tried, you know?"

ashe reaches up, lets him roll the figures into their palm.

he stands up. folds his hands in front of himself. "i don't. know how to be good. i know it doesn't come naturally to you, either. i saw you... choose. to be kind. you could have treated me different, too. like everybody? i was weird, and everyone knew. if you'd been ... mean? it would have been okay. but you." he shrugs. "one time you tried to kill me in the bathroom."

you don't know why you're crying. you look up at him through the cracks between your fingers. "twice," you croak. "but the second time i had a knife." you tuck your hair behind your ears. "but that was only after you pushed me down the stairs at grandma's and i broke my leg before a dance performance. you fuckin' deserved that one."

"i pushed you because you were being a wretched bitch."

"hey now," ashe says, a little edge to their voice, "that's my wife."

you squeeze their hand. "no, he's right. i had deleted his pokemon gold save file right before the elite four."

ashe drops your hand like you scalded them, showing the only horror you've seen this whole time. "you - girl, what the fuck?"

you shrug a little. "i was being a wretched bitch. and he did break my leg about it."

edmund shifts a little. "i just - you are...." his voice dies.

in your family, you don't say i love you. in your family, you don't touch each other or show affection. in your family, you just show up for each other, quietly. neither of you knows how to speak or process what needs to be said. you can see that lacking flashing over his face, literally playing out in shades of crimson. you get that weird twin-sense of something unsaid.

ashe sets the little ceramic people to the side. "she treated you like a person when everyone else treated you like a prophet."

you cut your eyes to them, and then edmund, who gives you one very short, sharp nod. "i, uh. i can. never try." he clears his throat. "i can never try hard enough. for that. i can - what you gave me. by. doing that. by ... just. i made. one thousand. wedding toppers. so it could be perfect. because - i ... it needed to be perfect." he appears to be dying of embarrassment, which does imply he might be capable of dying. oh good. in case i need to try to kill him a third time.

the thought makes a weird, wet laugh bubble out of you. "remember that one time i failed my math test and you set mr. fog's car on fire about it?"

edmund looks shyly at you, and a very small grin spreads across his face. not the dark lord - just a 30-something year old man who has just upset his one-and-only twin.

"you're throwing us the most ostentatious, egregiously expensive wedding," you tell him. "above land."

he frowns a little. "okay, but i'm not doing anything in miami. the vibes there give me the heebie jeebies."

ashe holds up their hand. "and you'll be repaying the deposit on literally everything. oh, and replacing the cake."

you kiss their cheek and then point to him. "and you'll be on time for it."

he shrugs a little. "okay, i literally can't perform miracles, so like. set the bar lower. i can't promise i'll-"

you look down at your feet. "i'd like you to be my man of honor this time. like. by my side. so. you can't be late this time. okay? we do it the right way. finally."

"huh," ashe says, looking between the two of you. "you guys have the same smile."

edmund's grin becomes a little wider, a little easier. he raises an eyebrow at them. "okay, i get that you're cool, but you're like, very cool about this whole thing."

ashe lifts a shoulder. "used to work for the monster under the bed."

"oh shit, simon? fuck." he points to them. "remind me not to mess around with you."

you want to tell edmund i love you and i missed you, but you can't. instead, you pick up the figurines. they're not perfect, but you can tell hours of his life went into each. his hands are so big - it must have taken him so much work to make these things so small. you picture him with his back bent over a workbench, trying to get a face into a tiny clay figure. the ceramic version of you is smiling. he's given you little fangs and a unibrow. he gave ashe a tiny yellow crown. you make the two figures kiss.

snow is falling indoors, little icicles of hellfire. ashe reaches out and take edmund's hand, and then, very awkwardly, he reaches out and takes yours too.

for a moment, it's just the three of you, and the beautiful quiet of the room.

You’re standing at the altar, about to get married to your beautiful fiancée. When suddenly the king of demons bursts through the door of the room, which naturally causes panic. You tried to warn everyone that inviting your sibling to the wedding would mean trouble, but they kept insisting.

[weaselle]

i want to talk about real life villains

Not someone who mugs you, or kills someone while driving drunk, those are just criminals. I mean VILLAINS.

Not like trump or musk, who are... cartoonishly evil. And not sexy villains, not grandiose villains, not even satisfyingly two dimensional villains it is easy to hate unconditionally. The real villains.

I had a client who was a retired executive for one of the big oil companies, i think it was Shell or Chevron. Had a home just outside of San Francisco that was wall to wall floor to ceiling full of expensive art. Literally. I once accidentally knocked a painting off the wall because it was hanging at knee height at the corner of the stairs, and it had a little brass plaque on it, and i looked up the name of the artist and it was Monet's apprentice and son-in-law, who was apparently also a famous painter. He had an original Andy Warhol, which should have been a prize piece for anyone to showcase -- it was hanging in the bathroom. I swear to god this guy was using a Chihuly (famous glass sculptor) as a fruit bowl. And he was like, "idk my wife was the one who liked art"

I was intrigued by this guy, because in the circles i run this dude is The Enemy. right? Wealthy oil executive? But as my client, he was... like a sweet grandpa. A poor widower, a nice old man, anyone who knew him would have called him a sweetheart. He had a slightly bewildered air, a sort of gentle bumbling nature.

And the fact that he was both of these things, a Sweet Little Old Man and The Enemy, at the same time, seemed important and fascinating to me.

He reminded me of some antagonist from fiction, but i couldn't put my finger on who. And when i did it all made sense.

John Hammond.

probably one of the most realistic bad guys ever written.

If you've only ever seen the movie, this will need some explaining.

Michael Crichton wrote Jurassic Park in 1990, and i read it shortly thereafter. In the movie, the dinosaurs are the antagonists, which imo erases 50% of the point of the story.

book spoilers below.

In the book, John Hammond is the villain but it takes the reader like half the book to figure that out. Just like my client, John is a sweet old man who wants lovely things for people. He's a very sympathetic character. But as the book progresses, you start to see something about him.

He has an idea, and he's sure it's a good one. When someone else dies in pursuit of his dream, he doesn't think anything of it. When other people turn out to care about that, he brings in experts to evaluate the safety of his idea, and when they quickly tell him his idea is dangerous and needs to be put on hold, he ignores his own experts that he himself hired, because they are telling him that he is wrong, and he is sure he is right.

In his mind, he's a visionary, and nobody understands his vision. He is surrounded by naysayers. Several things have proven too difficult to do the best and safest way, so he has cut corners and taken shortcuts so he can keep moving forward with his plans, but he's sure it's fine. He refuses to hear any word of caution, because he believes he is being cautious enough, and he knows best, even though he has no background in any of the sciences or professions involved. He sends his own grandchildren out into a life-threatening situation because he is willfully ignorant of the danger he is creating.

THIS is like the real villains of the world. He doesn't want anyone to die. Far from it, he only wants good things for people! He's a sweet old man who loves his grandchildren. But he has money and power and refuses to hear that what he is doing is dangerous for everyone, even his own family.

I think he's possibly one of the most important villains ever written in popular fiction.

In the book, he is killed by a pack of the smallest, cutest, "least dangerous" dinosaurs, because a big part of why we read fiction is to see the villains face thematic justice. But like a cigarette CEO dying of lung cancer, his death does not stop his creation from spreading out into the world to continue to endanger everyone else.

I think it is really important to see and understand this kind of villainy in fiction, so you can recognize it in real life.

Sweetheart of a grandfather. Wanted the best for everyone. Right up until what was best for everyone inconvenienced the pursuit of his own interests.

And my client was like that too. His wife had died, and his dog was now the love of his life, and she was this little old dog with silky hair in a hair cut that left long wispy bits on her lower legs. Certain plant materials were easily entangled in this hair and impossible to get out without pulling her hair which clearly hurt her. When i suggested he ask his groomer to trim her lower leg hair short to avoid this, he refused, saying he really liked her usual hair cut.

I emphasized that she was in pain after every walk due to the plant debris getting caught in her leg hair, and a simple trim could put an end to her daily painful removal of it, and he just frowned like i'd recommended he take a bath in pig shit and said "But she'll be ugly" and refused to talk about it anymore.

Sweet old man though. Everyone loved him.