#oh for shame what a horrible horrible world to live in

[1roentgen]

hmmmmmmm

[monsieurenjlolras]

Did any other chubby musical theatre girls (or former girls cause I sure as hell am not one any more) have the specific experiance of never being cast in female lead roles for years because you were too fat, and then finally getting to do hairspray and being told you weren't fat enough to be Tracy.

[starpros-sunshine]

I used to be funny you know? I used to have good humour and now every time I try to crack a joke I just feel awkward like I could've gotten that one delivered so much better. Smitten with the curse of not being able to be serious while also being horrible at being silly. If you ask me I'd rather be smitten with other curses but such is life I suppose.

[featherymainffins]

I thought I would walk some additional 14 km today and thus burn my accidental lunch (caved into peer pressure and went to a restaurant and had a salad instead of eating my perfectly counted can of tuna) and as such I agreed to go have breakfast with some friends tomorrow to celebrate the end of the excursion.

But I did not walk those 14 km because I wasn't able to get water + I just finished 12 hours of lectures + my arches were killing me + it was raining + I wanted to shower + I wanted to study + I was fucking freezing.

Which means I have to punish myself for my lack of discipline and I also have to make up for the food and that means I CANNOT have that breakfast. In fact I cannot have anything. For 2 days. Just to be sure.

So now I'm trying to figure out what lie I can make up. Currently thinking about saying that I just started to feel really nauseous all of a sudden and as such I unfortunately cannot eat breakfast oopsie. It feels really random and not really believable though.

[tcfactory]

Since my brain has been full of SVSSS brainrot lately:

I want a fic where the transmigration mostly fails and Shen Jiu wakes up from his qi deviation as User002 with the goddamn System treating him like he is Shen Yuan. Trashy yellow book what??? No, he doesn't need stats on his fellow peak lords, if he is supposed to follow a plot then he wants to see the script! You wretched floating rectangle, how is he supposed to play along if he doesn't know the source material?!

The stress of having what feels like a very pushy curse or an insanely weird demon inflicted upon him makes him deviate from some minor plot points and he gets punished for being OOC a couple of times until the System takes pity on him and directs him to Airplane bro, with the very clear suggestion that if he can't remember the early arcs of the story - System understands, User! It's very long after all. UwU - he should go and discuss it with the author.

He basically kicks down Shang Qinghua's door in desperation for some clarity and maybe an explanation, right now before he works himself into a stress-induced qi deviation, Shang-shidi. Shang hamster looks at his miserable scum villain, takes a deep breath, brings out all of Shen Qingqiu's favorite snacks that nobody should know about, makes a pot of calming tea and tells him everything.

Shang Qinghua expects Shen Qingqiu to be angry, to rip into him for writing him into this wretched life. And Shen Jiu is angry, but not at Qinghua. His anxious, mousy little shidi who lives his entire life under the looming threat of a horrible, seemingly unchangeable future doesn't look like a god. Shang Qinghua, who does his best to run his peak well and look out for his disciples despite his admittance that in the story the original Qinghua did a shoddy job - he doesn't look like someone who would have put pen to paper and written a tragedy if he knew it would become someone's reality.

And how could Shen Jiu, who has seen people sell their bodies and their very dignity for a cup of stale water, judge someone for writing a very bad yellow book so he can eat? Please. Peak Lord Shen might have developed a very discerning taste in literature over the years, but you can't fill your stomach with artistic integrity, Shang-shidi. Shen Jiu understands.

So they sit and for that first evening, Shen Qingqiu listens to all the differences creeping into the story, Shang Qinghua's retelling of the drafts he abandoned due to peer pressure, the long rambling tangents of the research he's done, even if they never made it into the story. Qinghua is so caught up in having someone to talk to that he doesn't realize that Shen Qingqiu put everything that happened to Qi-ge together, somewhere between the musings about how a sword inspired by kintsugi would be so cool looking, shame that nobody ever sees the thing, and the griping about how much one of his patrons complained about Yue Qingyuan dying without ever drawing his sword.

Later, when the snacks are gone and the tea is replaced with something stronger, he tells Shen Qingqiu about the stories he really wanted to write. About how he shamefully sneaked his dream man into PIDW, just so he could have some small part to himself, and oh, Shen Qingqiu will have to remind him about demon courting practices when they are both sober again, because it sounds like that Mobei prince is down bad for him.

He leaves that night with a newfound determination. Shang Qinghua might be resigned to the whims of his System and the shackles of the Plot, but Shen Jiu didn't burn the Qiu manor down and break his chains to give up so easily. This is his world, his sect, his Qi-ge on the line, and he would sooner wrest control from the System and become custodian of the world himself than let something take away and ruin what is his. He is the strategist of Cang Qiong Sect, there is no situation he can't think a way out of and he has had enough of tragedies.

Before any of that, however, he needs to go and have a good yell at his Qi-ge, smack his stupid face and then curl up in his arms for a good night's sleep. It's long overdue.

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead's Sister in Law!

Re-upload due to complications.

Chapter 1

Dion x Fem! Reader

Warnings: possible yandere themes, arranged marriage, toxic relationship, slight incestual themes due to the content of “Roxana,” blood, mention of murder

Nsfw warnings: Lost of virginity (both parties?), fingering, oral (fem receiving), spit, reader does NOT get to finish, vaginal pain, HEAVY DUB/CON.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the harmful and dangerous actions/behaviors that takes place in this piece of fiction. These actions/behaviors should not be normalized or romanticized as they are extremely toxic and dangerous.

Minors/blank/blogs that don’t reblog fanfiction dni and don’t span like my posts or you will be blocked.

Overall story summary: you reincarnated into one of your favorite novel-turned-webtoons. However, you didn't want to become the female lead's sister-in-law...

Word count: 4542k

===

“The Way to Protect the Female Lead’s Older Brother,” also known as “ROXANA” was a rather dark novel that was adapted into a webtoon. And as luck would have it, the webtoon wasn’t finished, and you don’t remember all the details of the fan translated web novel you found online.

Now, why would that be a problem? Simple:

You reincarnated into it. Not as a main character, or even a servant to one of the families. You weren’t a child of Lant’s or one of his many wives. You weren’t a friend to one of his children, either. Instead, it was worse than most of what was listed.

Whatever God you managed to piss off had a silly little, petty revenge plan that was straight out of a third-rate horror novel with teenage girls fawning over it. And truthfully, if written right, the non-existent novel would have been a banger – but no, instead it was anything but. Or maybe you only really think that because of your position in this world, where your birth was simple, but painful for your mother, and you were lucky enough to be born into a family that loved and cared for and about you.

It was a noble family, to boot. Wealthy enough to live a comfortable life. Two siblings – an older sister who was already married at the age of thirty with a child on the way. The other was a 12-year-old boy who made it his life mission to be the most annoying little piece of shit on earth.

But as you lay on your back, hands holding your nightgown in place, all you could think about was how small Dion Argece makes you feel. The wedding ceremony just finished up hours ago, and here you are, back pressed against silk sheets as your now-husband hovers over you.

(Name) Argece.

What a horrible name and cruel faith.

Inky black hair that falls into his carmine red eyes that held indifference. His wedding-tux was still on, even the outer jacket with the silly lone rose in his pocket. Oh, what a shame – to be married to such a handsome man only for him to be obsessed with his sister and emotionally unavailable.

God despises you.

“Close your eyes if you’re uncomfortable.”

He unbuttons his outer jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and tosses it to the side. You should close your eyes, you think, because his face was nothing but stone. Not even a condescending grin. He doesn’t comfort you, either – at least not in the typical sense.

“Keep still,” his gloved hands grab your thighs and you let him open them, creating space for him to get closer. You want to push him away and run. But what good would that do? Why couldn’t the man just slice something and claim that the blood on the sheets was from your first night?

“I’m scared.” You speak without thinking, becoming stiff as his hands traveled from your outer thigh to the inner, creeping underneath your nightgown. His gloves feel cold and uncomfortable, touch borderline rough. “I – I need a moment. Please?”

He tilts his head, giving it thought. After a moment he removes himself, but annoyance radiates off him. Your heart beats faster as the second’s pass. You remain on your back. The ceiling is painted white, no decorations and the room was bare saved for a dresser, closet, mirror and a random chair by the window.

You will be sleeping in here, from now on.

“Can’t do it? Then don’t.” he’s annoyed, surely, otherwise he wouldn’t look at you like you were an insect. What a wonderful way to start the newlywed life. But it’s not that easy to walk away, and while it sounds like he’s giving you a say-so, he isn’t; if you don’t consummate your marriage tonight, then…

“… I’m sorry. It’s my first time and I heard there would be pain.” You shouldn’t have to explain yourself. But Dion wasn’t exactly known for his… compassion. Or basic human emotions, either.

If this was someone else, would you be able to do it? Where did everything go wrong? This didn’t happen in the novel; Dion didn’t get married. There wasn’t a grand wedding with the Five Ruling Families in attendance. Nor was there a steamy scene with this man throughout the novel, not even in the side stories.

How did you end up here?

“Then relax.” If you weren’t scared of losing your life you would have run him over. It affects everything! Then again, it wouldn’t matter to him – this is a duty. Not something he wanted, you’re sure, and even if he did it would only have his best interests in mind.

“… I’m ready.” You don’t answer him, because it would only lead to a one-sided argument. Even a wall listens better. Despite your wishes, Dion does the same as last – settles in-between your legs, and this time, you close your eyes.

“Good. Try to relax or it won’t fit.” Your cheeks burn at that, mind already picturing how it would look. Many men say things like that, even in your old world. It’s just a thing they said, like with many things. It doesn’t really mean anything, because if it did then…

His gloves are still on, cold and grip tight on your thighs. You were hoping he would be gentler. But as his hands travel up and up until they’re pulling at the edges of your underwear to slide them down, you realize he won’t.

There’s no slickness down there, your underwear dry and vagina even drier. You peek through your eyelashes, watching as he inspects the article of clothing. He tosses it a few seconds later.

“I’m only going to ask once – would you rather keep your clothes on or off?” It seems that with every second reality just hits harder and harder. This was going to happen. Nothing could stop it. And if hypothetically, if he were to stop this, what then?

Even if he sliced an arm to fake the night, what about later? A baby, Lant wants Dion to have a child. No. You couldn’t do that to a child, especially yours.

“On. Please.” You expect him to just shove in a finger or two, watching as your body jerks in pain. Instead, he lifts your hips until your bottom was off the bed and flips the flimsy skirt up. And then there’s a glob of something wet and gooey, legs twitching as it lands on your bare cunt.

“D – did you just… spit?” steading yourself on your arms, you look on in disbelief as your husband just spat on your pussy. A string of saliva hangs from his tongue.

Instead of answering you, much less look at you, his thumb comes into play and spreads his saliva over the surface of your cunt. It’s only when his thumb swipes over your clit do you let out a shaky breath.

Maybe he was feeling generous or maybe he was curious. Dion decided to rub the twitching nub over and over until your legs twitch and cunt clenched around nothing. The glove made it uncomfortable, but even so, you just tried your best to focus on the pleasure. You weren’t sure if he would give you pleasure like this again.

“You’re enjoying this,” he retreats his hand leaving your twitching and needy clit lonely.

A pathetic whimper escapes as you watch your husband take his glove off with his teeth. This man is everything you fear and more, a character that you should have never met. Yet the sight of him lowering his head to lick a long stride against your slit has your legs shaking.

His tongue is warm and slimy, causing your hands to clench the sheets as your head falls back. Another lick and another until it’s flicking your clit back and forth, sending warmth throughout your body. However, despite the pleasure he’s giving you, his grip is still tight, almost painful on your hips.

Your heartbeat doesn’t slow down as he continues. Your fear barely dies down in your chest, even as the tip of his tongue teases your entrance. You shut your eyes tight, a breathless gasp leaving your lips as he thrusts his tongue into your cunt.

“It feels – “a pause as you catch your breath, “weird, it feels really weird and – “

Dion repeats the action until you’re a trembling mess, sensitive from your mental state and the current oral sex you’re receiving. It’s hard to focus on either one, your mind constantly reminding you that you’re in a novel, about to fuck a man who’s jaded and possibly has a thing for his sister –

“Ah… wait, that’s a lot…” he decides to go further, bringing his thumb back and rubs loose circles into your clit. He’s still eating you out, but not like a man starved like you read in erotic novels.

Even so, your husband keeps at it. If it was a good or bad thing was up for debate – on one hand, while it does feel good, everything is moving too fast, your pleas for slowing down falling on deaf ears. It really is a lot, tongue fucking you while those loose circles on your clit become tighter, rougher. Should you just lay back and take what he gives?

Your mother would probably say so. Your sister would just pat your head and smile like it was expected. Normal. Take what he gives, especially if it benefits you in any way.

“…?” your eyes open at his tongue leaving your cunt with a saliva trail, his eyes glued to your twitching sex. His thumb also stops rubbing circles, instead going back to grip your hip as your back starts to become sore. Your ass is still off the bed and if he keeps you hosted up like this, then you really will snap in half.

But then he locks eyes with you.

“I thought you were scared.” Dion doesn’t let you respond, either because he doesn’t care or because it would ruin the ‘mood.’ He latches his mouth to your poor, abused nub instead. And sucks.

“H-hey!” one hand supporting you while the other grabs at his hair, you didn’t expect him to throw your legs over his shoulders. “That’s enough, really, no need to – ugh…” his mouth was warm and soft, but it sends your nerves on fire.

Good. Bad. Good. Bad.

Good, bad, does it matter anymore?

He sucks harder and your fingers tug harshly at his hair. You kick your legs but are unable to tell if it’s from pleasure or the flight or fight response he’s causing you. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t bat an eye, making it his life mission to suck you dry.

“Ah – wait, Dion – “

It’s at your whine of his name does he finally, finally stop, a ‘pop’ when he detaches his mouth from your sensitive and bullied clit. Your husband decides to lick one last long stripe from your entrance to your clit, all the while making eye contact with you. Your chest heaves as your mind settles, arousal overthrowing your thoughts.

“What is it?” Monotone, his voice is monotone and he’s not even out of breath. Your mother lied, there’s not even a hint of pink across those cheeks. It’s fine, though – no, it’s not, it’s baffling how steady he seems when your back is about to break, and you can’t even breathe.

Your eyes travel from his to his hair, where your hand is still grasping the strands. Mind still catching up to your body, you let go and draw your hand back, covering your eyes with it. Your entire body is shaky and legs sore. You’re not used to this position.

“It – it’s enough.” Your husband lets you pull your legs back, feet pressing against his broad shoulders as you bring them back down. The relief is almost immediate, a pleasurable and relief-filled sigh leaving your chest. You allow yourself to rest for a bit, your sensitive cunt and sore legs screaming for it.

“… O – okay, I think, I think that’s fine. Excuse me…” gently, you pull one leg up until your foot is flat against the bed. With a shudder, you trace your entrance timidly with two fingers, getting used to the touch. You’re not sure of how big he was, but you’ll use three fingers just in case.

You gape like a fish when his hand reaches out, grabbing yours roughly. You didn’t even notice the dip in the mattress as Dion got closer on his knees, face inches away from yours. Oh God, now what –

“What are you doing?” clearly annoyed, Dion doesn’t let you look away – not that you were going to – free hand grabbing your face, pointer finger and thumb on each cheek. It’s barely loose enough to leave no bruises. It hurts regardless.

“I – I was… prepping…” part of you wants to pretend that this man doesn’t know how to comfortably prepare you for pentation with his… but you know better. Because an inexperienced man wouldn’t know how to do things with his tongue like that, or where the clit was because –

“Are you still scared?” The hand that was holding yours releases it, opting to sneak its way to your cunt. His fingers were larger than yours, nimbler as they stroke your labia minora. Are the shivers washing over you from nervousness or arousal?

“… I’m scared of the pain.” By instinct, you knew he meant more than scared of sex – if you feared him. Still.

It doesn’t need to be said.

“Scared of the pain?” His eyes glow in the moonlight, bright red with absolutely no emotion. “Why?” he doesn’t break eye contact as his fingers inch closer to your entrance, stroking the opening, making your legs jolt. What a horrible man.

You remind yourself that this man only felt fear as a child – and even then, it probably wasn’t for very long. Nothing lasts for long, in this estate.

“Because I hate it.” You don’t break eye contact either, breathing in when one finger slowly sinks in, your walls now stretching uncomfortably. It’s not as painful as you thought it would be, your wetness mixed with his saliva making it easier. Your nails are about to rip holes in the silk sheets.

Like a curious animal, he tilts his head, curling his finger. It doesn’t feel good, it hurts, but you endure it even when you wince. Dion decides it would be a good idea to spread your legs a bit further, and like a bug, crawls between them even more. You hiccup when he adds a second finger.

They’re bigger than yours, they reach deeper. In your old world, did it feel like this too? You can’t remember.

“It’s going to hurt worse if you don’t let me finish this. Relax your legs before it hurts worse.” Pressure builds in your eyes, but you fight it off. “Save your tears for when it matters.”

You’re tired of him already.

He doesn’t move them, at first. It’s almost like he expects this, because as you adjust to something foreign inside you, he starts to rub at your clit, again. Softly this time, touch firm enough to feel but not hard enough to hurt. Or maybe you’re lying to yourself because you’re wincing, still.

When he starts to thrust them in and out, you force yourself to look at the ceiling, scared to see the expression on his face. You also don’t want to watch the show, scared it’ll already be bloody. Just a bit.

“It’s tight.” He states it like it’s the morning news. “And wet.” Your cheeks burn with both shame and embarrassment, shutting your eyes.

“… ugh…,” groaning, your hand reaches out to grab his wrist. “It hurts, a lot.” You sit up, back against the headboard, avoiding your husband’s gaze. Unfortunately, by doing this, your eyes land on your messy hole, light blood on his fingers as he pulls them out only to thrust them in again.

“It’s normal. The more you resist the worse it gets.” You give up, letting him do as he pleases, shutting your mouth.

The fingering still hurts as the minutes go by, but little by little the pressure eases down and when he arches his hand, he hits something soft and spongy. He’s rewarded the sight of your head banging against the headboard once, shoulder tense as you bite your bottom lip.

If only you could see that look in his eyes.

“Here?” He repeats the action, faster this time. You only nod your head, lips ajar, tongue swiping over them. Your hips have a mind of their own, raising as the heel of his hand rapidly smacks against your clit with his thrust of his hand.

You’re half there mentally and halfway in heaven, momently forgetting just who was here with you, who room this belonged to, and your entire situation to begin with. “Oh - wait, it’s a lot but – “

A third finger is added, and it starts to sting again. Another wince, another groan, but your arousal helps to keep the pain to minimum. All three fingers curl to hit that special spot that makes you see blacked out stars and pussy clench. All the while light blood coats his fingers, a sight he’s already used to due to his lifestyle.

It’s only when he pulls his hand away completely do you return from the skies, a small layer of sweet coating your forehead. Your hands are shaky as you look at him, only to be drowned back into reality when you’re met with those red, indifferent eyes that glow brighter than the moon.

“If you’re ready, lay on your back and spread your legs.” He undoes his pants while saying this, scooting back to give you some room.

With a heavy heart, you do so, laying on your back and spread your legs. You were fine just moments ago, so why is your heart leaping out of your throat rather than staying in your chest? Maybe it was because of the pleasure, or…

You’re scared, again.

You don’t look when something fat and heavy plops onto your pelvis. You don’t look when he brings you closer by your thighs. You don’t look as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds, catching on your clit.

“Relax or it won’t fit,” he reminds you before pushing the fat head in. At first, it’s a sting no bigger than an ant bite. But then another inch goes in, and you feel like a sword is cutting you straight up open, your legs tensing and hands grasping his forearms in a futile attempt to stop him.

Your nails dig into his sleeves, and you can feel the skin underneath. The tears build up as your face becomes hot, taking in deep breaths like it would soften the intruding body part.

“Big – it’s too big, it’s not going to fit – “

“… You look cute when you cry.” It’s sinister, teasing and everything that makes your stomach drop. His thumb wipes away your tears that’s already staining your skin. But he stops regardless, if only to shut you up if nothing else.

You think a few minutes pass but it’s hard to tell when he’s still inside, pulsing and you could feel every vein on his cock. It’s thick, it’s big and you don’t think you’re equipped to handle it, handle him. He’s everything that ruins your sense of self, that makes your dreams shatter and fear rot you from the inside out.

But he’s your husband…

But he’s your husband.

“Relax,” he inches in deeper, slower this time, but not letting you get a word in. Your nails dig deeper, and if it weren’t for his shirt, you would have drawn blood. Another inch, another gasp that leaves you breathless, grasping for anything that could keep you grounded. The only thing you could grab was him, however.

“Dion, Dion, you’re going to break me, I can’t – I can’t – “

“You can. You have to.” Was his voice raspy, just now? If so, it worries you, because you just remembered one very important detail – Dion Argece was, if nothing else, a sadist. Be it from his childhood trauma, or if he would be like this regardless of, he loved seeing Roxana cried.

It never occurred to you that he would love seeing you cry, too.

How deep was he? It feels you’re being speared open, his cock bullying its way into your virgin hole. You weren’t a virgin in your last life, but it didn’t hurt like this. It had hurt, felt like you were being ripped, but not enough to make you cry and breathless.

You think you can feel blood trickling down your ass crack. “Please tell me you’re almost there, please…” sniffling, you look up at your husband, the man taking your virginity in the name of ‘marriage.’ A mirror shatters in the back of your mind.

There was a flush across his cheeks. Pupils blown wide and a small grin on his lips. He was enjoying this. Your pain, your tears and perhaps even your fear – he was enjoying this.

It would have been better if he didn’t feel anything, you think. Just a stone statue that was performing its task. But even monsters had emotions, you guess.

“I’m not. Just endure it for a bit longer – I’ll stop once I’m at the hilt.” Was he a liar in the novel? You think he was, otherwise, the overtaking of the Argece family wouldn’t have happened. Lant wouldn't be dead. But things haven’t followed the novel to a T – this was proof enough.

“You’ll stop? Like, completely? You – you took my virginity, so that should be enough. Right?”

You hate it when he keeps wiping your tears away. Or when he slides in even more, your blood coating his stupid dick. You hate it when he brings one hand to toy with your clit, granting you pleasure that was just overthrown by the smothering pain traveling up to your belly.

He doesn’t answer. And that was enough for you to rake your nails down the back of neck, drawing blood in return. He’s making you bleed, so it was only fair if you could too, right?

Deeper and deeper until his balls rest against your bottom and pelvic meeting yours. Surprisingly, your husband keeps his word, letting you adjust to the new feeling. It feels heavy. It feels like a heartbeat, like a rod that was stuck. It felt awful.

How long did it take you to get used to it, in the past? No longer than fifteen minutes max, right? No, shorter than that. Then again, it didn’t hurt this much, but that partner was more loving, more caring, gentler –

“Who are you thinking about?”

The question breaks you out of your daze. You blink, once, before you question him back. He only glares in response.

Panic fills you when he pulls out, pain still there, blood still trickling down. “Wait, you’re – “

“I’m what?” he pulls out until only the head remained inside. You try your best to ignore the bruising grip he has on your hips. You’re going to be sore tomorrow. If you survive this, anyway.

God, if you’re listening, please let this night end peacefully.

“B-big. It’s going to hurt, please don’t…” dragging your hands down from his neck to his chest, your fingers dig into his shirt.

“Hm. A shame, really; you still must give birth, eventually. It’s better to get used to it now than later.” Your mind doesn’t catch up with your body, legs tensing when he slides oh so carefully back in, like he didn’t just push your worries aside like nothing. “Relax.”

“Dion,” hiccupping, you brace yourself, head nuzzling into his chest as your hold on his shirt tightens. When he pulls back out, you could feel every detail, every vein trail, his grith truly opening you. He graces you a mercy, going at a languid pace, minimizing the pain. His thumb never stopped rubbing your clit, either.

It goes like that, for a good while. Slow and steady, your hushed sobs dying on your lips, your husband careful with his thrusts, but not his grip. It was almost comforting, in a way. But you were still scared of him, and of what will happen after this.

“… I have a proposition.”

His hips stop and your ears perk up.

“You want me to stop, correct?” Dion pulls back until he’s on his heels, his cock dragging along your walls. You wince before breathing out. He doesn’t even try to hide the sadistic look in his eye as he sees the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. He almost grins in glee.

“Y-yes…” You don’t let go of his shirt. “Why…?” there’s hope inside you, but dread starts to rot it away.

“Jerk it.”

“…what?”

He was different from the novel. Extremely so, because you doubt that Dion would suggest a thing, much less give you a choice in the matter. That Dion would have either ignored you and this night or take you as is, no mercy, no humanity granted if this took place at the beginning at the novel.

When he doesn’t repeat himself, you pull yourself up until you’re resting on your knees. The sight of blood both on his cock and the sheets make you gag and thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it. Hesitantly, you take him into your hands, fingers barely able to close around it.

It throbs in your hand.

Your blood is coating your hands now, too.

Only silence is between you, your hands working him. Your thumb swipes over his head, circling it before stroking his dick up and down. Your other hand plays with his balls, massaging them. You’re not sure how long it would take him to finish.

Your core throbs in pain, and you become worried over the thought of peeing. It would probably hurt.

You want to sleep.

Without giving it much thought, just like your husband, you spit on it, a glob of saliva falling onto the staff. It throbs harder. And when you look at him, tired eyes and drool still dripping down from your tongue, still jerking him off –

“…Ngh…”

It’s almost cute, the way sperm spurts out and makes a mess on your hands. The very small and fleeting look of embarrassment on his feature is almost enough to comfort you. But when there’s barely a sheen of sweat adoring his forehead, unlike you was still recovering, you’re reminded that your husband was different from you.

There are no kisses, no sweet nothings shared between lovers. No stroking your hair or comforting your trembling form as your legs shake. Or even an offer to warm a bath for you, the warm water soothing your body. There’s none of that.

Not even a smile.

“Welcome to the Argece family, wife.”

Instead, all that awaits you is a restless sleep on a bloodied mattress with a husband who left after cleaning himself up.

Which God despises you so much and why?

[just-some-random-blogger]

Why Not Me? | 1

Part 2

Love is beautiful. Love is lovely. But lately, to you, love is a form of self-harm.

Rockstar!Gwayne Hightower x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, Modern AU, low key fix-it-fic, canon divergence, DD:DNE, body dysmorphia, body shaming, smut (cunnilingus, piv, biting, marking, licking, they're messy yall), fluff, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: THIS INCESTUOUS SHOW i changed the family tree for the sake of this fic and ive FIXED EVERYTING SHUT UP you cant do anything about it anyway ok ok ok. im half sorry it became so long. idk how many parts i wil do T_T save me. also i cross posted this on ao3 MASTERLIST/PLAYLIST

Tagging: @ceoofyearning @pendragora @worms-on-multiple-strings @barbieaemond

You can hear the live music playing from the inside your car. You take a deep breath and look at yourself on your phone before stepping out. You smile and fix your hair, "maximum slayage has been achieved."

You exit the camera app, catching the text icon when you do. You bite your lip. Your thumb itches. You open it, checking the last message you have that you've not replied to.

From Harwin: Are you at your sister's already? Can we call?

You clench your jaw and place your phone in your purse. You sling your purse on your shoulder and grab the cake on the passenger seat. You tell yourself to forget about the text as you walk towards the open gate of the white picket fence.

You smile at the garden, happy to see it in real life again and not just during video calls. You brush off your iridescent, pink dress before ringing the doorbell. As you wait, you look around the neighborhood. All the houses here were as expensive as the one next to it.

The door opens. You turn back and grin as Alicent squeals, "YOU'RE HERE!"

"I'M HERE!"

She can't help but kiss your cheek before leading you inside. You talk and walk, and the moment you set the cake down, your best friend immediately seals you into a hug, both of you squealing.

When you break away, you lift your eyes to the chandelier and point, "is that the new chandelier?"

Alicent beams and spins beneath her beloved light source, "yes! I swear to the Mother if someone fucks up my chandelier again-"

"Oh, ho, ho, ho!"

Both of you turn to the man waltzing in with horrible dance moves, "speak of the devil." Viserys walks over to you, coming in for a hug, "she returns! Alicent's been waiting on you for ages."

You share a hug while Alicent makes a face, "can you blame me? She works at the fucking edge of the world!"

You pull away and raise a hand, "okay, one, dramatic-"

"No it's not," she red haired woman crosses her arms, "you literally work next to Harrenhal."

"That is a gross simplification," you wave your hand, "and two, why don't you visit me for a change?"

"In your shitty apartment?" she makes a disgusted face, "no."

You make an offended noise and glare at Viserys, "you've turned her into a stinky bourgeoisie!"

Viserys makes a face and Alicent shakes hear head. She places a hand on your shoulder, "no babes. Your apartment is simply crappy."

You make another offended noise and shake her hand off. You turn back to her fiance, "anyway. Happy birthday, Viserys!" you motion to the box on the counter.

"Is that what I think it is?" he gasps.

You scoff for effect, "yah."

Viserys opens the box and makes a dramatic sound at the sight of the chocolate cake. He turns to Alicent, who shakes her head and sniggers. The man whisper-yells, "triple chocolate cake!!!"

You laugh. Your best friend repeats, "triple chocolate cake. Now what do we say?"

Viserys seals you into a tight hug. You squeal when he pulls you up enough for your feet to leave the floor. He groans excitedly as he puts you down, "oh, you are perfect, my dear. Thank you so much."

The overly affectionate gesture leaves you a bit awkward, but you play it off with a chuckle, "you're welcome."

Alicent clicks her tongue when Viserys swipes some frosting and licks his fingers, "Viserys. Get a plate."

"Oh, fuck, I feel like I'm in uni again," he sighs at the sweet taste, "should I grow out my hair?" He rubs the trimmed sides of his hair.

Alicent cringes, "absolutely not. You looked like a sickly lord in uni."

"But love-"

"Oh, I knew you were here."

You look over your shoulder. Your stomach drops. You shift awkwardly as Daemon walks towards you with a grin. "Figured from Alicent's squealing," he says before pulling you into a hug.

He rubs your sides and it makes you feel overly conscious. You mutter as he pulls away, "how've you been, Daemon?"

"You know me-"

"High as a fucking kite?" Viserys answers for him as he takes a slice of cake.

Daemon flips him off but smiles at you, "just dandy, love. And you?"

"Oh, you know, wet."

Alicent slaps a hand on her forehead.

Viserys snorts.

Daemon raises his brows.

You realize your mistake and backtrack, "n- no- I mean, cause- cause Riverlands!"

He snorts and your body tingles. He shakes his head and sighs, "and here I thought it was because of me."

Alicent raises her brows and takes that as a cue to leave. She pulls Viserys back, who whines because he hadn't gotten his cake yet. She slaps his arm and lies about needing to check on something.

"Did you bring someone?" Daemon asks.

Your stomach rolls at the insinuation he was interested in knowing if you had a date. You dramatically look around, "do you see anyone?"

He purses his lips and shakes his head, "well, I was hoping your sister would come around."

You stiffen. Your sister? You manage a chuckle to play off the stinging in your gut; it doesn't sting any less though. You half-smile, "Mysaria's in Lys."

He raises his brows, "still?"

You knit your brows, "still?"

"I just figured her vacation would be done by now."

You feel your eye twitch. You raise a finger, "how'd you know she's on vacation?"

Daemon simply shrugs, "I follow her on Unstagram."

A scoff spills from your lips as your brows raise, "she let you follow her?"

"Yeah," he shakes his head and furrows his brows, "why wouldn't she?"

You clench your jaw. You feel your skin crawl. It's as though your body was being stretched into oblivion. You press your lips into a tight smile and rub your belly as your agitation builds. You shake your head and shrug, "I didn't think you were that close. She's pretty private."

Daemon is supposed to say something, but then his attention is stolen by the sound from outside.

"This next song is called Breathless," followed my cheering.

His expression shifts. He throws his thumb over his shoulder, "shit. I uh... I have something-"

You nod before he can finish and Daemon effectively runs off.

Once you're alone, you let it catch up with you, the loathing, the disgust. You look around you and feel bile rise up your throat. Everything was beautiful. Everything was pristine and put together. From the color of the walls, to the furniture, even to the tiny pieces of décor.

This is Alicent's dream home. She found a man that loved her and he got her that white picket fence she's always wanted. She's living her dreams because... she's someone's dream girl.

You walk towards the mirror in the common room and stare at yourself. The makeup you spent hours on and the sundress you overindulged in now looked lack luster. Whatever convincing you did in the car has gone. You think about Alicent. You chuckle bitterly as you think of your sister, "oh, Mysaria." You were nothing but a disgusting blob, next to the statuesque her.

You grow angry at yourself when your eyes water. You pace around to calm yourself, "it's fine. I just won't eat any sweets." You force a smile at the mirror, "or carbs," you fix your hair, "I'll just have a bev. I ate already anyway."

When you no longer feel like crying, you let yourself join everyone outside.

Your eyes immediately fall at the platform and band setup across the large backyard. Viserys really went all out; there were lights, a sound system, and everything.

You try to make out the band playing. You immediately recognize Criston in his cream colored suit playing the bass, though his hair was snipped short and he had massive shades on. You knew Aemond was a guitarist but there was only a blonde with short platinum hair on the keys, and he never cut his hair, so you debated if it was really him in that leather suit jacket. But then you saw Aegon and his shaggy, jaw length hair, drumming yet again sans shirt showcasing all his tattoos and figured the other blonde had to be his brother.

Then, of course, there was Gwayne. If you couldn't recognize him by his guitar playing, or his distinct baritone, then you would by smirk and auburn hair. You sure did. There was a bit of sheen on his forehead, but even then he moved as cool as a cucumber. He looked good in his dark blue suit. I mean, they all did.

You remember Alicent talking about how excited Viserys was to have Oldtown play for his birthday, how they cleared their schedule and all. Though you weren't a close follower, you somehow felt proud of them, having watched them perform in shitty bars a couple times in university. To see them have the success they do now makes you feel honored to have been one of the few people who said they were going to make it. And judging by how people were singing along, they made it.

You were agitated by the size of the crowd. It still baffled you how many friends the Viserys had, but then your remember he's an old money businessman... and an extrovert. You rub your stomach as you search for Alicent. You spot her alone, cringing by the buffet table as she poured herself a drink. Immediately, your anxieties dissipate because of her and her unabashed dislike for her brother's music.

You walk over to her and sway your hips exaggeratedly to song. Alicent stills when she sees you, and makes a revolted sound before raising her pointer, "stop it."

"Nuh uh," you throw your hands in the air and move your hips, "it's a good song!"

Alicent rolls her eyes, which only makes you laugh.

From across the yard, Gwayne's attention is stolen. He watches how light catches in your pink skirt as you grind against his sister, much to her disgust. He smiles between lyrics, making the crowd react.

"Oh, come on, babes," you watch as your best friend chugs her drink, "you have to at least be proud of your brother."

Alicent shakes her head, "I am! I'm so glad that people like his music enough that he can perform it somewhere far away from me."

You turn to the buffet table when you catch the aroma of your favorite stew. You gulp but tell yourself you shouldn't eat. You decide to pour yourself a drink.

She catches you, "you want me to get you a plate? I ordered your favorite-"

"No," you shake your head, " 'm just thirsty."

She knits her brows, skeptical of your words as she was aware of your destructive tendencies. She decides believe your reassurance, though her gut was telling her otherwise.

She turns back to Oldtown and catches her brother looking. She shakes her head and flips him off. Gwayne chuckles, not because of her though, because you finally turn around. This entices another reaction from the crowd, which Alicent wretches over.

You sip on some punch and shoot her a look, "oh, stop being so sour, baby."

She glares and points, "you try listening to your brother and your cousins sing about the women they've shagged and tell me then if being I'm sour."

You bite your lower lip, but break into a laugh anyway, "you got me there."

Alicent's eyes widen for emphasis, "yeah. And I don't even mind it when people ask me about 'em, but I really, really don't want to know how badly you want to fuck my brother."

You laugh again, no longer holding back this time.

She laughs along. She loves seeing you this way, "you look absolutely stunnin' in your dress, by the way."

The compliment flies over your head.

"Pink is 100% your color," she says with genuine enthusiasm.

You sigh and offer a smile, "it better. This dress costs me a fucking arm."

"Well, it does," Alicent affirms, "you look like a fucking queen."

Your heart swells. Yet again, your best friend breaks into your layer of self-hatred. You nod and agree for her sake, "I really do."

The next moment, the crowd breaks into applause, signaling the end of the song. You cheer along, though you hadn't really paid attention. You turn to the stage and find Gwayne looking your way. You smile and he smirks back.

Gwayne pushes back his strapped guitar and grabs the mic, "thank you. I hope you all enjoyed our set." He shields his eyes as he looks through the crowd. He points once he spots Viserys, "happy birthday again to you, brother."

Alicent claps with the crowd. Viserys laughs as his friends shake him wildly.

"Thank you so much for your endless support, and your endless money." Gwayne chuckles before motioning, "it's been Criston, Aemond, Aegon, and-" he places a hand on his chest, "- Gwayne. We are Oldtown, and you have been a wonderful crowd."

You applaud as the band gets off the stage. They settle their instruments with their stage riders and you look back to Alicent. Before you can speak, her eyes widen as she takes a sip, "idiot in coming."

You look back where she was, brows quirking in surprise when you see her brother jogging over.

Gwayne immediately tries to snatch Alicent's drink, but as she anticipated it, she effectively dodges then chugs. He groans, "oh, thoughtful."

She manages to make a face as she gulps. Some liquid dribbles from the sides of her mouth.

"And classy," her brother's forehead wrinkles.

You chuckle at their antics and shake your head, deciding to pour the man a drink yourself.

Gwayne gives his sister an annoyed look when she sighs for effect. She wipes the corner of her mouth, "it's my drink."

"I would at least expect-" his words falter when he realizes you weren't even beside him. He cranes his neck to look at you before looking to his sister, "-you'd be willing to share after I've slaved away for your pleasure."

"Oh, I can assure you I found no pleasure in this. And have you been so out of practice 8 songs is slaving away for you?"

Gwayne chuckles but is uninterested in continuing the argument; his interest was never in his sister to begin with. He turns to you, digging his hands in his pockets, "and who might you be?"

Alicent turns between the two of you then deadpans, "seriously?"

Gwayne smirks. In his head, his sister's reaction is of being a protective friend. He's admittedly had flings with her friends before, but he's never been deterred by his baby sister's wrath.

But the truth is, that's not at all the reason why Alicent shakes her head incredulously, "my friend from college, you absolute goldfish."

He furrows his brows at Alicent.

At this point, you procure a cup of punch for Gwayne and hand it to him with a smile. He looks at you then the drink you're holding out. He takes it with a smirk, making sure your hands brush as you do. Oh, he is smitten.

None of that registers to you. You return his smirk with a genuine smile.

It doesn't register with Alicent either, which is why she complains about something else entirely. Her lips curl, "you've done it now. You've fed his ego. He's going to be insufferable."

You shake your head and laugh.

Gwayne licks his lips, laughing along, body tingling at the sweet sound of your voice. He does not look his sister at all as he replies, "I've always been insufferable."

You catch his look. Alicent rolls her eyes, "oh, thank gods he's at least self-aware."

Again, Gwayne reacts; he chuckles, but his eyes do not leave you. He shakes his head, "did you transfer after I graduated?"

You knit your brows at the notion, "no," you chuckle, "I'm actually your junior. I took Music Production at King's Landing too."

His face falls and his brows raise.

You chuckle brighter as you nod, "yeah... we were even classmates in, what, two subjects?"

Gwayne wipes his face. You laugh at his stressed expression. "No fucking kidding," he clutches his jaw. He shakes his head again, "what classes did we share?"

You press your lips together in thought, "the... one with Mr. Boldwood."

"Are you serious?" he mutters, "the one where we scored horror films?"

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember you added sound effects instead of music and Mr. Boldwood was like, yeah don't do that, it's a scoring class, not an SFX class."

Gwayne runs his hands through his auburn hair and tugs on the collar of his dress shirt. He loosens his tie as he sighs. By the Seven, how does he not remember you?

You laugh and wave him off, "it's not that big of a deal. You were always too tired to talk in class."

That was true.

"No, it is," Alicent blurts, and he agrees. "Make him feel bad for not remembering you," she shoots him a look, "I literally went to one of your concerts with her, you imbecile. The one where you forgot your guitar and we had to drive-"

"To Highgarden?" Gwayne's jaw slacks.

"Yes, to Highgarden."

Oh, he is stressed.

You feel bad, and shake your head, "to be fair, I wasn't there when she gave you your guitar. I was the one driving and didn't get out because I didn't want to get towed."

Gwayne nods. He watches how your brows quirk and how your lips curl.

You assure him once more, "it's fine. Really... and anyway-"

"Oh, you stop it," Alicent cuts you off.

You turn to her, "but it's tru-"

"No, it's not!"

"I usually just fade in the background of people's minds. I'm not very memorable."

"You are!" Alicent argues, "Gwayne's just an fucking idiot."

Gwayne points at her, "and I am completely agreement."

Before you can respond, Daemon suddenly walks into the conversation. You turn to him, seizing up as he brushes against your shoulder. You turn to your drink and step back. Daemon says, "Viserys is asking about the mixer and-"

"Did he touch the damn mixer?" Alicent says, "I told him not-"

"I told him the same thing," he raises his hands.

She groans and rolls her eyes. She raises a hand in regard before walking off, "gimme a sec."

Daemon follows her. Your eyes follow him, allowing yourself to look a while longer than you should have.

You best believe Gwayne catches it all. His lips twitch and his brows pull back in annoyance. He mutters pointedly, "so Daemon, huh?"

You turn to him, "w-what?"

He chuckles dryly at your coyness. He takes a sip before glaring at the said man, "so you have a thing for annoying cunts?"

Your face falls.

He shakes his head before tilting it, "the imbecile has no redeeming qualities. It's an anomaly why woman chase after him." He scoffs, expression growing even more bitter, "probably his money." He drinks some more punch, cringing at how sweet it was, then finally turns back to you.

He is both annoyed yet subtly amused by how affected you are by his dislike for the Targaryen rat. He sighs, "for what it's worth he, himself, thinks I'm also an annoying cunt."

You raise your brows, realizing he wasn't just saying this. Then out of nowhere, you find it incredibly stupid and downright hillarious.

Gwyane finds his expression softening at the sound of your laughter. His annoyance did not wane, but still, he smirks and brings a hand into his pocket, "switch to me instead."

You laughter dies down but it's too late, you weren't paying attention. You shake your head, "I'm sure he doesn't actually think that."

"Oh, trust me, he does."

You wipe a tear, "no way. He's actually a closeted Oldtown fan."

Gwayne laughs, loud and mocking. The taken aback giggle that leaves you is the only reason he actually starts laughing genuinely. He clutches his side and moves towards the table, "is he now?"

You watch him put his drink down, "he is! He practically ran out of the door when he heard you announce the last song."

He sniggers, "pathetic bastard," he steps closer, "but who can blame him? I quite like Breathless myself." He brushes his lips and looks you up and down, "though I much prefer someone who dances to my songs unabashedly."

You smile, unaware of him still, "oh, I'm sure you do."

Gwayne, in truth, is also unware of you, far too wrapped up in the way you smiled and how your skin glowed in this light. In his head, this conversation was going swimmingly, because when has it ever not— Which is why he says, "let's go dancing in my bedroom."

You do a double take. Your jaw drops, "I beg your pardon."

He tilts his head, "I have about a hundred records and a vinyl player. I'm sure your dress would look even prettier under my lights."

When he takes another step forward, only then do realize what's happening. His stance. His eyes. His lips. It's all coming together. It stabs into your belly and you're suddenly bleeding all over yourself.

Your breath hitches. He catches it, and causes the corner of his lips to quirk. He is pleased. "What do you say?" he leans on one leg and brings his hands in his pockets.

What do you say?

You say you were still reeling from your sobering encounter with Daemon. Of course you always knew he was a playboy and he slept around, of course you knew he would never be seriously interested in you, but realizing any sort of interest he had in the first place was because of your sister again— it doesn't hurt you any less. It hurts you more each time. The next second, you are reminded of every man who's ever shown you interest and recall what they really wanted from you.

And as your mind raced with these thoughts and the sight of Gwayne Hightower— multi-award winning Gwayne Hightower, front cover of Rogue magazine Gwayne Hightower, Oldtown hearthrob Gwayne Hightower-

"Alicent doesn't have to know," he mutters and shrugs.

Oh.

He gives a lopsided smile.

If you somehow didn't know before, you know now exactly what he wanted from you.

You turn to your feet. But Harwin...

You scoff at yourself. Who were you joking?

You feel pathetic enough for you to look up and say, "okay."

Gwayne examines your face. He notices how your expression shifted but still, his smile spreads. He reaches a hand to you and you take it without a second thought.

You walk off and you don't even bother looking for Alicent at all. Before you leave, you do encounter his cousin, Aegon. Your eyes lock as you pass each other, and so you decide to smile at him, "nice tats, Aeg."

He freezes and watches as you and Gwayne leave.

Gwayne raves as he drives, telling you about The White Walkers, how it was his favorite band and how excited he was when Oldtown got to play with them. He rambles some more before asking you about your tastes. You brush him off at first, uninterested in indulging conversation.

You shake your head, "it's not very interesting."

"I'm pretty sure I get to decide what I find interesting or not."

You watch him give you that trademark smirk of his and you want to so badly believe he wasn't just saying that to get in your pants.

You don't but you humor him, "I'm more of a jazz sort of person."

"Aha," he maneuvers the steering wheel, "so extended chords and irregular tempos get you going?"

You lean into the passenger seat and smile, "don't forget nonfunctional harmony."

His dimples deepen. He takes a turn, "so what, you're too good for The White Walkers?"

"I did not say that."

"Well," he sighs deeply, "you don't seem to want to say much so I'm going to have to make things up as I go."

You shake your head and roll your eyes at him. You look out the window and miss the way he smiles at you.

"Fine," you start, "there's an artist called Khiara. She's makes incredible music. She's Lengii, and she infuses a lot of her native sound in her music. It's stunning."

He nods, "Khiara."

"Yeah..." you give him a passing smile before looking away again, "she's great."

"I'm sure she is."

He did not mean it in a mocking way, but it comes across to you as such. You scoff and resign to watching the buildings pass.

"Are you a jazz musician by taste and profession?"

You roll your eyes at his adamance at small talk, "I'm a music teacher."

His brows quirk, "what? No way, that's-"

"Underwhelming?" you look back at him.

"Cool," he spares you a look before bringing his eyes back on the road, "you teach jazz?"

"I teach 4th graders."

"Even better," he smiles, "I couldn't teach a dog to bark even if I tried so, consider me impressed."

"Mmm. I'll add it to my CV."

He snorts.

You look out the window again, "that one rockstar is impressed by me."

He leans an elbow on the car door and brushes his lips as he chuckles. Gods, you were a dream.

When you reach his apartment, you realize just how much of a rockstar he really was. His place was huge, and he had such eccentric furnishing, from a full on display of a suit of armour, to posters of obscenely niche bands. They didn't make sense and yet they fit perfectly together. And when he said he had a hundred records in his bedroom, you think he was actually playing it down.

You both take your shoes off before entering his bedroom. Gwayne leads you by the hand and motions to his collection, "I'm sure I have something here that's jazzy enough for you."

You raise your brows at him and pull away, effectively stopping him in his tracks before he can go through his records.

His brow quirks, "what is it?"

"Did you really take me home to dance in your bedroom?"

Gwayne chuckles as you walk past him. He eyes your body as you inch towards his bed and sequentially sit by the foot. You place your hands on your knees and raise your brows at him. He licks his lips and shrugs, "did 'dancing in my bedroom' sound like an innuendo to you?"

You scoff out a chuckle and roll your eyes, "you really are an annoying cunt."

Gwayne lowers his gaze, licking his teeth. He saunters over, hands in his pockets. He stops once he is directly in front of you, "do you want me to stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Being an annoying cunt?"

"I want you to stop wasting my time," you retort, "unlike you, I work a 9-5."

He laughs, dropping his head. He raises his hands in surrender, "damn. Where did you come from? You were so smiley and sweet not even an hour ago."

You forfeit a response and simply lean back on the bed.

That wipes the smile off his face. He looks down on you, feeling his breath grow heavy at your expression. He clenches his jaw, undoes his tie, and drops to his knees.

You can't stop your lips from parting.

He rubs his hands up your shins, measuring your reaction. You simply watch as his hands disappear underneath your skirt. Your breath hitches when he squeezes your thighs. Gwayne pushes closer, and you wouldn't have minded, had he not kissed your knee.

"Wait," you reach out to his head.

Gwayne gulps as he looks up at you, eager to know where he went wrong.

"No kissing," you mutter.

He hears it, repeats it in head, then repeats it out loud, "no kissing?"

You bite your lip and stroke his cheek, "no kissing."

It takes a moment for him to realize you were being serious, and when he does, he slowly nods, repeating again, "no kissing."

You nod and straighten up. You brush your hands up his arms then proceed to unbutton his white dress shirt, "you can bite, you can lick," you lick your lips on cue, "I'll even let you spit on me—"

"Mmm, fuck."

"—but no kissing." You slip your hands into his shirt, "you good with that, Hightower?"

"Fuck," he hooks his hands behind your knees and tugs you forward. You squeak and grip his shoulders. He slots himself between your legs, "no kissing anything?"

Your breath strains when his nails drag up the inside of your thighs, trailing to your waistband. Your brush your noses together, shaking your head, "anything."

He hisses, baring his teeth. He is unbelievably compelled to kiss you. He knocks his nose into your cheek, nostrils flaring, jaw muscles feathering. He breathes against your ear, "not even here, pretty girl?"

You feel his fingers brush across your soft belly and sink past your navel. You whimper when his fingers press into your core. He tuts and bites your neck at your attempt to you close your legs, "nah, ah, ah, ah. No fair. You need to play fair with me, sweetheart."

You rest your head on his toned shoulder. You squeeze his biceps, taking a moment to relax before willingly parting your legs.

He makes a pleased sound, "good girl," he nips your earlobe, "now, say it for me. Will you play fair?"

You sigh against his trapezius as your hand clutches his neck. You lick his skin before biting and whimpering, "yes."

"Seven gods," he groans, turning to kiss you. He tilts your head back, lips nearly landing on yours, but the sight of your smeared lipstick reminds him that he can't. His mind raceswith all the things he wants to do you. He starts by smearing your lipstick with his thumb and biting your lips.

You whimper and push him by the chest.

He licks your cheek and shakes his head, "I'm not kissing you, baby."

You dig your fingers into his hair and pull him back, "annoying fucking cunt."

He laughs and pulls away. His hair is messy and your stomach drops when he swipes the lipstick on his thumb on his lower lip, "I am. Now lie down." He bunches your skirt up.

You refuse to fully lie down, wanting, no, needing to see him. His eyes stay fixed on yours as his nails bite your thighs and his teeth stake their claim. He shakes his head, nose brushing against you, "told you to lie down."

"Mmm," you comb the hair out of his face, "want to see your pretty face."

He smirks and rids you of your underwear, throwing it somewhere in the room, "we'll see."

Gwayne sinks into you, his tongue and lips lapping into your folds. He works with confidence and feasts in a way that makes you writhe. You are powerless against his finesse. Your breath strains as you fall on the bed. He grips your hips, keeping you from moving too much, and you are never not amazed at just how strong men can be, "mmm, 's what I thought."

Before you know it, all you can do is arch your back, tug his hair, and call out his name. It only inspires him to be more diligent. He basks in the power he has over you. He moans as you become increasingly frantic and curses when you come undone all over his mouth.

He allows you momentary repose as he rises from your legs. You look up at him, heart racing as he licks his lips. Fuck, he was beautiful. You wipe the sheen off his chin and feel your stomach drop when he licks your thumb.

Let it never be said that Gwayne Hightower is a talentless prick. Go say what you want about how he sings and speaks, but gods, the man can use his mouth.

It was both so quick and not quick enough until you're both naked. Gwayne has to make the conscious decision to leave bites on your skin instead of kisses, and you suppose this is the reason why he ends up trapped beneath you. You take advantage of his distraction and lose yourself as you ride him, unabashedly bouncing on his hips as your hands reveled in his toned belly. He squeezes every part of you he can get his hands on, relishing the firmness of your hips, the delicateness of your breasts, the softness of you. It was in these moments you didn't mind your build, knowing well these mortal men looked at you like a goddess.

He can't help himself and sits up to graze your skin. He leaves marks all over your throat and nips your lips every time you drive him wild with your noises. He thinks about how badly he wants you to stain his mouth with your lipstick, and in that moment, you push him back and shift your weight into his shoulders.

He curses for the nth time and brings one hand up to the base of your neck. You lean into his touch. His thumb brushes over your lips and you suck on his finger. It makes him claw at the small of your back with his other hand.

Gwayne watches the way your body quakes at the force of your actions. He commits the sight to memory as he feels his belly tighten. He pulls his thumb away with a pop and aids your movements with the thrust of his hips. You call his name out like a mantra as you feel pressure building inside you.

And then it was hot and electric. And then you felt yourself melt into a burning mess as slowly your bones turned to jelly.

You fall into his chest and catch your breath. You can feel both your hearts racing with your sweaty skin pressed together like this.

Gwayne wipes his face and brushes his hair back, mind hazy, mouth dry. Before he can bring an arm around you, you're pushing yourself up and climbing off him. He turns to your side, expecting you to lie next to him, but you make him knit his brows when you grab your dress from the floor, "where's your bathroom?"

He rolls on his belly and points, "just outside."

You cover yourself with your dress and pick up your underwear. You quickly find the bathroom and open the light. You give yourself a jumpscare when you catch reflection on the mirror.

You look like you were caught in a violent accident, with your hair messy and your lipstick in places you didn't expect. You body looked horrendous, worse under this lighting. You gulp and wonder how horny Gwyane must have been to want to take you home. You feel pathetic. You feel nasty. It's no wonder why no one's seriously interested in you. You were a disgusting fat fuck who's only point of interest is her pussy.

You wash yourself as much as you can, get dressed, and take a few deep breaths before exiting.

When you step back into his bedroom, you hear music playing. Was that-

"Khiara," Gwayne says, still sprawled on his belly, butt naked. His eyes are on his phone, "she is incredible."

You look around for your purse, wondering if it was here on in his car.

He turns to you when you do not respond, his expression dropping upon seeing you dressed. He sits up, "is something wrong?"

You spot your purse and smile to yourself, "nope. Just need to call an Ubor."

He watches you grab your purse and pull out your phone. It takes a moment for him to register what was happening. His pride is wounded, "you're not going to stay?"

"Like I said, nine to fi-"

"Tomorrow's Sunday," he leans into his thighs.

You glance at him, catching his sullen expression.

"Don't go."

You ignore the bubbling in your stomach. You chew your lip and walk towards him. He watches you intently. You rest your knee on his thigh, and he immediately straightens up to grab your hips. You take his chin and look at the mess on him, your lipstick, your slick, your spit, then whisper, "I've got things to do."

He rubs your sides, "do they do you better than me?"

Neither of you react.

You think about the convenience store you passed on the drive here. You decide you can wait for your Ubor there and pull away from him, "this was really fun, rockstar."

Gwayne huffs, lowers his gaze, and pinches the bridge of his nose, "no, wait-"

"Good night," you walk off.

He grabs his pants, "let me drive you home."

You ignore him and rush to his door, "good night."

"Wait, dammit!"

You sigh in relief once you're out his home. You forfeit the elevator and head to the stairwell. Halfway through your descent, the door above slams open, and you look up to see a frantic looking Gwayne.

"Really?! The stairs?!"

You wrap your arms around yourself, watching him runs down to you. His face is still messy. His shirt is unbuttoned, and his pants aren't zipped. He sighs, shaking his hands, "what?! what? Am I a bad driver?"

You bite your lip and shake your head.

He huffs and waves a hand, "am I a bad lover?"

Your stomach rolls. You turn to your feet, "I wouldn't know, you're not my lover-"

"Fuck- am I a bad... fuck- sexual partner!" he blurts, zipping his pants then adjusting his shoes.

"No," you chuckle guiltily, "you were... you were amazing-"

"Rate it 1 to 10," he begins to button his shirt.

You look up at him incredulously and sigh, "Gwayne, I just really want to go home."

"Then stop bruising my ego and let me take you home," he shakes his hands in frustration. You stare at each other for a moment. The look on his face makes you want to be swallowed by the ground. You go down a few steps, and Gwayne steps once before sighing. He places his hands in his pockets, "I just... I thought it was going really well."

I look up at him.

He another step forward.

Your mind races. You can't help but relive all your bad memories in this moment. The sheen on his chest tells you bad this is going to hurt if you dive into it. Gods, fucking around with someone in Oldtown? You shrug, "it was, I think."

"Then," he steps forward and grabs your shoulders, "let's at least end it on a good note." You watch him motions with his head, "and let's take the fucking lift while we're at it."

He heads for the door. You suck in a breath and simply go down.

Gwayne holds the door for you and does a double take when he sees you walking off "seriously?"

"Stairs or nothing, buddy. I need the cardio."

"Well, if it's cardio you want," he rushes after you, "I am happy to help."

You glare at him once he's beside you.

Gwayne chuckles at it, feigning a look of innocence, "I have a treadmill in my flat. I don't know what you're thinking, dirty girl." You roll your eyes, making him laugh, "well, I mean I do, you practically jumped me."

"Oh, what, like you didn't think of it."

He gasps, "I am a gentleman."

"Mmm, you must think you're cute."

"Not nearly as cute as you," he grabs your arm once you reach the next door in the stairwell, "now for the love of the Mother, let's fucking take the lift."

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - We Are Surprised

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

May 2024 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Wandee Godday (Sat YT) ep 2 of 12 - Oh it’s fucking great. It could all go horribly south, of course. But it’s awesome at the moment. Messy gay and one of them is already pining? Got to love it. Including the negotiation.

I’d love a good sex negotiation, it’s almost as good as linguistic negotiation. This show makes me happy. All that said, it’s moving awfully quickly for a 12 episode run. Not sure what’s gonna happen on the backend. 

My Stand-In (Thai Fri iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 eps - I’m still enjoying it but I’m ready for him to die again now. 

We Are (Weds iQIYI) ep 5-6 of 16 - Toey is going after the Namgoong Award for Best Wingman this year, I see. And in exchange, literally all the rest of the friends are going to be his wingmen. It’s adorable. I also like that Phuwin got to be the aggressor for the first kiss. I like that this is mostly just boys flirting, and not really any prescribed seme/uke stuff. In general, I think these last two episodes I improved the show in my regard a lot. But then middles are always GMMTV's strong point, it’s whether they can stick the landing that’s an issue.

Two Worlds (Thurs iQIYI) ep 9 of 10 - Apparently we have the Frodo walking into Mordor episode. Also the sides were cute. In Thailand (like Taiwan) all gangsters are gay, apparently. 

Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 5 of 12 - It’s cute but very cringe and dorky. Silly singing. Terrible pickup lines. Still, that was a ridiculously charming confession.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues YouTube & Viki) ep 12fin - Oh so good. Very few shows that feature one-sided long-term pining of this kind can resolve the unevenness of that power dynamic into a more stable and equal footing with such class. We really got to see the object of the desire turn completely around and become equally besotted. An age gap, stepbrothers trope like this one is hard enough but at this length? Very well acted boys! Unknown managed to show the older brother softening in a believable way that’s pretty unusual in narratives of this type.

All in all?

Unknown is a wonderful BL with a pitch perfect portrayal of long term pining, age gap, and the stepbrothers trope. The acting and chemistry are ON POINT (especially from the leads) which made the resulting characters very believable. When it dwells in intimate family drama, it's stunning. It's slightly less successful when it leaves the home and goes gritty. It's few flaws are the result of curtailed length. It could have used more breathing room to deal with side plots, characters, and companion character development. The editing was occasionally choppy and packed with flashbacks that broke the emotional tension. Still, those are mere quibbles. This is an excellent show that I know I'm going to be recommending a lot. 9/10

Finally Taiwan hits another one out of the park.

About.

Damn.

Time.

Blue Boys (Korea Sat YouTube) 4 of ? - Oh it’s so good, and they are so tortured and it’s just charming and I can’t EVEN. I just love it. I love that Korea is giving us this right now. You’re an idiot if you’re not watching this show, it’s truly spectacular.

At 25:00 in Akasaka AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Well well well Japan. I see how you kneed. I enjoyed this episode better than the first two, and I am way into our Bad Boy second lead. I can already feel myself succumbing  to the syndrome. Next week = the obligatory onsen ep! 

Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - Omg most adorbs failed linguistic negotiation. 

Boys Be Brave AKA Roommates (Korea Thurs Viki) ep 5-6 of 8 - I love the side couple. It’s a shame we’re finally getting some truly great class conflict and it’s relegated to crumbs.

Love is like a Cat (Korea Mon Viki) eps 11-12fin - Well that was a waste of time. There was no connection (of any kind) between the leads. The language thing was hella weird and likely added to that. The past history of the Korean character was necessary to know from the start, its lack throughout, meant there was no depth to his character. They tried to tackle all the interesting stuff in the final 2 eps. AND they even killed the dog. I never thought I'd type this sentance, but Peach of Time is better.

I don’t know. 5/10 I guess

All in all:

A disappointing lackluster and barely cohesive BL about a jerk Thai actor (speaking Thai) who has to work for a Korean animal rescue cafe as a publicity stunt. It's difficult to believe the leads like each other, let alone fall in love. The acting is stiff, the characters lack motivation and cohesion, and there's not much to recommend this show beyond some pretty visuals. Also, they kill the dog. All in all, a disappointing and unsuccessful joint venture that mostly highlighted that between Thailand and Korea the style of BL, narrative approach, language cadence, and acting techniques all clash.

It's airing but...

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.

You Made My Day (Thai YT) ep 1 of 5 - mini series staring the I Will Knock You couple Tar & Bom, started but I couldn't find it. I also didn't try very hard.

A Balloon's Landing (Taiwan movie) trailer - A frustrated Hong Kong writer, Tian Yu, meets a Taipei street gangster, Xiang (Fandy Fan from HIStory2: Crossing the Line), and the two of them embark on a journey to find the Bay of Vanishing Whales. Along the way, they discover unexpected twists and turns and close bonds, which brings out the message that "there is always someone like you in this world who is waiting for you. This released to cinemas in Taiwan, no word on international release.

Memory in the Letter (Thai WeTV) - it's done, tell me if I should bother?

Fan's Only Corner

Someone asked in a comment (which tumblr promptly ate) about group sleepovers in BLs. It's happened a few times but the only one I can recall being noted and particularly lovely (and VERY college) was in Nitiman. There's also one in Lovesick.

Next Week Looks Like This:

5/16 Blossom Campus (Korea Thurs Gaga & iQIYI) ep 1 of 6 - Strongberry doing classic uni BL! Weeee!

5/19 OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ????) ep 1 of 10 - LeeFrank are back - not unlike the undead (as it were). But how do we feel about it? Unsure given their track record.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

May Releases

VBL (Taiwan) is releasing 4 'Special Episode' epilogues to their 4 2023 shows every Friday this month on Gagaoolala, Viki & Viu. Not sure on search terms or how to find these. (Or, frankly, if we need them.)

5/10 – You Are Mine

5/17 – VIP Only

5/24 – Stay By My Side

5/31 – Anti Reset

5/25 The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer - HoTae & DongHee are back but unfortunately not in a cinema near me. Side couple from Unintentional Love Story, same actors, same character names. I love them. I NEED TO SEE THIS.

5/28 My Biker 2 (Thai movie YT?) - trailer

5/31 The Time of Huannan (Taiwan movie) - May not be BL

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

LOVE a smile kiss. Love it. Two killer kisses from PondPhuwin. Elegantly done, boys. Thank you very much.

I love them a lot all of a sudden. (All We Are)

It's hard to give MaxTul a run on their crown as best bodies in BL, but boy these two are giving it their, erm, best. (Wandee Goodday)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.

[honestlyijustfindhersocharming]

DBDA Promptober ... Day 5 - Magic @dbdpromptober

. . . . .

"No!"

Edwin barely processed the way that the shout rang through the air, eyes locked with the spell soaring through the air towards his chest. He was going to die.

Edwin hadn't thought much about his death since he started to regain his memories, but he doubted it'd be that bad. I mean, Niko and Crystal were still okay, right? They had each other, and their cases, and… God, from the little bit that David had eased him into regarding his life so far, Edwin wasn't sure that he'd miss much about living.

Well, there was one thing. One guy with a punky style, bright white curls, and the most beautifully radiant smile that Edwin had ever seen. Ghosts didn't age, right? What would that mean for him and Charles? Would the two of them drift apart as Charles grew into adulthood? Would they stay together even though Edwin would stay the same 16 forever? Would Edwin move on alone and leave Charles to grieve?

… He didn't want Charles to cry for him, face twisted in grief as he tried to fend off Mick and save Crystal. He didn't want-

Edwin was jostled from his thoughts as a form covered his view of the spell hurtling towards him, rooting itself right in front of Edwin as it-. "No!" The scream that Crystal let out forced the scene before him to click, everything in slow motion as Charles - sweet, wonderful, selfless Charles - slumped against Edwin. Edwin took hold of him, cradling him as the two crumpled to the floor under the taller's dead weight.

"Charles!" The scream ripped from his throat before he could stop it, before he could even think, and the entire world faded to Charles. His Charles, lips parted and brows furrowed as he whimpered in pain. "Charles." He repeated, name a prayer on his lips as he repositioned himself, cradling his friend's head with one hand as the other clung to his jacket. His eyes were frantic as he examined the younger's body because there had to be something that he could do. Something to stop the way that the crimson blood kept soaking through Charles' bright white shirt.

"Charles, you're gonna be okay. You have to be okay. Please." Edwin begged. He pleaded. Shame was lost to him as he shook Charles ever so slightly, refusing to accept the way that his breathing shallowed as the seconds ticked on and on and…

"Told you…" Charles croaked out, voice hoarse and face pained despite the way he tried so hard to smile for Edwin. "Was always gonna protect you, yeah?" Edwin heard himself sob at the reminder, because it was never supposed to be like this but then Charles' breathing shallowed even more and-

"No! No! Charles!" He cried, leaning over his friend - his love - to hold him because he couldn't be gone. He can't- "Charles…" Edwin sobbed, grief overtaking him because it should've been him that took that hit. Him that had to deal with that pain after everything that Charles had been through.

"Oh… how tragic." Edwin finally registered the world around him as Mick started speaking. "You know, it is your fault though." His hands shook as he held Charles closer, teeth gritting as his grief melted away into nothing but pure rage. "Bringing him here and all. You really should've seen this-"

"Shut up!" Edwin screamed, the familiar pull in his gut as he thrust his hand outward, shoving the man against the wall, before he reached back into his mind, pulling on the thread that connected him to the demon that he'd brought alongside him. "Dæmonium! Da mihi auxilium tuum!" He chanted, letting his magic meld with David's innate energy.

Thought you'd never ask. Edwin felt the demon respond. Edwin's gaze, now black as night, fell upon Mick, and immediately he knew which words to say. "Sedna! Hear me!" He called, magic sending his voice to the sea. "Your child has forsaken, thee. Will you stand for this injustice, for those outcasted to be defiled by his greed?"

Mick laughed, a horrible bitter sound, and Edwin steeled himself. No matter what happened after this point, he knew one thing for certain. He would not let this man hurt another one of his friends.

[al1fers-haven]

"OH DEER"

Alastor x Vox's wife!reader

Part 1 - Part 1.5 (You're here!)

You had been at the hotel for a couple weeks now, completely ignoring the news and any form of technology that Vox could find you on, even trying to steer clear from going outside, to begin with after a couple of times trying.

You had bonded a lot with the fellow members of the Hazbin hotel, you and Angel had bonded the most it seemed. Both having worked with the Vees and had romantic and sexual relations with them, it brought you together. Especially when it came to the harder nights the porn star seemed to have because of Valentino. "So...what's your deal?" Husk looked towards you as you looked down at the margarita he had made for you about 12 minutes ago. Attempting to figure out what exactly was going on and why you were here to begin with.

"What? Oh- nothin' much. Trying to wrap my head around this whole.." You waved your hand around in the air. "Redemption thing?" Husk nodded, grabbing his own bottle of whiskey and sighing. "What? You really believe in it?" You shook your head no, giggling a little bit. "No, I've met heaven. They won't let any soul go through anytime soon unless it is someone really important. You would think if souls could be redeemed I wouldn't be here, right?" Husk sensed the slight tension at the mention of heaven. A small smile on your face. "I uh...yeahh..." He let out a small noise and opened his bottle. "Well, why are you here? Alastor got you on a leash?" You sat up at that. Suddenly getting a lot livelier at the mention of the radio demon. "Oh! No, he would never! Uhm...i ran into him on the street, we had a nice talk. He's helping me hide from my ex-husband." Husk deadpanned, pointing his bottle at you. "What?" You lifted your glass up and chuckled a bit behind it, rolling your eyes. "I seem to get that answer a lot...I ran into him after me and my husband had gotten into a huge fight. Luckily enough he is one of the many people Vox can't touch! So here I am..!" You laughed nervously. Watching as Husk got more and more confused. "You were married to Vox? as in the overlord Vox?" You deadpanned, running a hand through your hair as your smile dropped. "Well he wasn't 'Vox, head of Voxtech' when I married him! We go way back to the living world." He slowly nodded. "Is he uh....treatin you well then?" Husk took a sip of his whiskey, leaning against the table. "Oh! He's been a complete sweetie to me! Making me snacks, even getting me some new clothes from Cannibal Town!" Your cheeks grew more and more colorful as you spoke about the overlord. Take a flustered sip from your drink. "You don't-" You took a loud sip from the drink. Your face continued to get red as he stared at you. "You do!?" "Listen, its just a small thing! It ain't going anywhere...Just...having a couple dinners with the fella.." Husk rubbed his face. A shameful look on your face. "What! He's the only guy who's actually treated me like a girl and not something to wife up! Can't blame a girl can ya?" Husk nodded. "Yes, yes I can blame you." "Really? Is it that bad for me to have a small thing for Mr. Strawberryhead?" Husk sighed, rolling his eyes with a mumble. "Well, it's not horrible? I mean, just fair warning he is a horrible person." You waved your hand, putting down your drink. "Eh, I've married worse. Believe me, vox was nothing more than an obsessive drunk who can't handle being told no. As long as he doesn't force me into anything I hate, then we are good! Or hit me." Husk stared at you baffled, a horrified expression on his face. "What? Is that bad!?" Husk nodded quickly. Grabbing your drink and refilling it. "Yes! That's- That is below the bare minimum Y/n! Cmon girl, you need to think about standards- Cmon, your standards are to not date a rapist or an abuser! That's- oh god angel has better standards." You slumped a bit. "Y/n, dear! I made some fruit salad, would you like some?" Alastors voice boomed throughout the bar room, making you perk up and look towards the fellow. "Coming Alastor!" You stood up, grabbing the margarita with a smile as you looked at Husk. "Uh..." He looked towards Alastor with a growl. "Thank you...Husk. I'll think more about what I want, how about that?" The cat demon nodded slowly, turning around and cleaning out a cup or two.

[edenmemes]

resident evil: 4 remake starters

❝ man, that stinks. ❞ ❝ this just keeps getting worse. ❞ ❝ you’re still a kid holding onto fantasies of what’s right and wrong. ❞ ❝ i’m gonna let you in on a little secret. just between us. ❞ ❝ the hell is going on? ❞ ❝ hey, we’re a team, right? ❞ ❝ where’s everyone going? bingo? ❞ ❝ you and me are two sides of the same coin. ❞ ❝ that’s just like you. you always had poor judgement. ❞ ❝ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❞ ❝ like i told you, i’m gonna get you home safe. ❞ ❝ i’m not falling for your mind games. ❞ ❝ you proved you can handle yourself. ❞ ❝ you haven’t changed a damn bit. ❞ ❝ you look like you’ve got something to say. ❞ ❝ gotta fix everything myself. ❞ ❝ you can’t run. you got to keep moving forward. ❞ ❝ you’re nothing but an extra in my script. ❞ ❝ i thought you were gonna die. ❞ ❝ i don’t pay you to ask questions. ❞ ❝ there’s no time for resting. ❞ ❝ revenge? you think i’m doing all this...for revenge? ❞ ❝ i need you to trust me, and do exactly as i say. ❞ ❝ you’re too soft to do what’s necessary. ❞ ❝ i know your potential better than anyone. ❞ ❝ you’ve made it all this way, but you haven’t learned a thing. ❞ ❝ maybe you’ll live to meet me again. ❞ ❝ the most important thing in this world is pure, unadulterated power. ❞ ❝ i’ve something to ask you...but i don’t think i’ll get a straight answer. ❞ ❝ you didn’t answer my question. what’re you after? ❞ ❝ you know, you were always an asshole. ❞ ❝ you have a strange sense of humor. ❞ ❝ you are nothing if not unyielding. ❞ ❝ i just wanna feel good about myself. make amends. or something like that. ❞ ❝ just give me a heads-up before you stab me next time, okay? ❞ ❝ it’s okay to be afraid, you know. ❞ ❝ what do you think? people can change, right? ❞ ❝ not looking good, eh, my friend? ❞ ❝ you try to save one person; a hundred others die. ❞ ❝ was that an act of defiance? against me? ❞ ❝ a well-tuned weapon can make up for a lack of skill. ❞ ❝ i’ll let myself out. ❞ ❝ you won’t get away with this. ❞ ❝ be a shame to live the rest of your life wondering ‘what if’ - am i right? ❞ ❝ you have the stench of battle on you. ❞ ❝ so, tell me, why did you come to this horrible place? ❞ ❝ you wanna help? cause i could use it. ❞ ❝ if i could just forget what happened that night, the pain - even for a second... ❞ ❝ i knew i could count on you. ❞ ❝ i think you’d be pretty dashing in it. ❞ ❝ i’m not used to having such good company. ❞ ❝ hey. it’s dangerous outside. ❞ ❝ god damn...i was almost a pancake. ❞ ❝ a lot of people have gone missing around here. and it’s been like that for a while now. ❞ ❝ sorry. i, uh, screwed up. ❞ ❝ i’m so scared. when that happened...i wasn’t myself any more. ❞ ❝ well done. you’ve proven yourself reliable. ❞ ❝ won’t be going anywhere in this thing. ❞ ❝ sorry, didn’t realize that was yours. ❞ ❝ this time, it can be different. it has to. ❞ ❝ everything will work out just fine. ❞ ❝ you missed. that’s not like you. ❞ ❝ come to my rescue, prince charming! ❞ ❝ sometimes it’s more fun not knowing. ❞ ❝ if you do well, i’ll make it worth your while. ❞ ❝ that hurts, you know. ❞ ❝ this is one hell of a gloomy place. ❞ ❝ why help me, though? what’s in it for you? ❞ ❝ oh, well, maybe just untie me then? ❞ ❝ knowledge is power. remember that. ❞ ❝ i can’t tell if that’s meant to be a compliment. ❞ ❝ i’m sure you’ll do your best to help me. ❞ ❝ bill me for the repairs later. ❞ ❝ it seemed like you really wanted to talk. ❞ ❝ you know, those things will kill you. ❞ ❝ you haven’t changed. you just think you have. ❞ ❝ don’t let the smallfry distract you from the big fish. ❞ ❝ quiet type, eh? ❞ ❝ guess you picked the wrong spot to vacation. ❞ ❝ a most warm welcome to my castle. ❞ ❝ bet you’ve been in spots like this before. ❞ ❝ to think you could be this foolish. ❞ ❝ give me a break already. ❞ ❝ i’m sorry. i wish i could do more to help. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to recall what happened down there. ❞ ❝ years haven’t been kind to us, i suppose. ❞ ❝ finally, some peace and quiet. ❞ ❝ who are you? and what are you doing here? ❞ ❝ i’m just an average guy who happens to be quite the ladies’ man. ❞ ❝ you should really be telling me what a good job i did. ❞ ❝ is this the first time you coughed up blood like this? ❞ ❝ so much for helping me. ❞ ❝ so, who are you working for this time? ❞ ❝ you think i’m gonna give up that easily? ❞ ❝ hey, are you sure you’re good? ❞ ❝ i’m gonna get you home safe. ❞ ❝ i have a plan. but you’re going to have to trust me. ❞ ❝ gimme some space. ❞ ❝ i don’t get you. why risk your life like this? ❞ ❝ it’s a little over-the-top, don’t you think? ❞ ❝ they’re coming! get behind me. ❞ ❝ does that hurt? are you in pain? distressed? ❞ ❝ you are really starting to become a giant pain in my ass. ❞ ❝ you know i don’t work and tell. ❞ ❝ you’ve done well to make it this far. ❞ ❝ tell someone who gives a shit. ❞ ❝ happy to help. now you owe me. ❞ ❝ are you just trying to use me again? ❞ ❝ what’re you, my mother? ❞ ❝ i’m definitely gonna catch a cold. ❞ ❝ this artwork...doesn’t it look like it’s telling some kind of story? ❞ ❝ what do we do? there’s no way out. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong with wanting the same for myself? ❞ ❝ it’s a little old fashioned for my taste. ❞ ❝ you’re losing your cool. making mistakes. ❞ ❝ don’t scare me like that. ❞ ❝ you’re slow. and so goddamn weak. ❞ ❝ wow, you’ve really gone all out for me! you shouldn’t have. ❞ ❝ i will send you back to the hell you came from. ❞ ❝ heheh, having a rough day? ❞ ❝ the reaper comes for cowards and the careless alike. which are you? ❞ ❝ i’ve got to think. need to get my head straight. ❞ ❝ i shall leave tomorrow. go far away. ❞ ❝ here’s my question...have you changed? ❞ ❝ we will beat this. together. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? show no mercy! ❞ ❝ i admit - you’ve done well to stay alive this long. ❞ ❝ this means death. a slow, miserable death. ❞

[climbthemountain2020]

Still Beautiful Things

Happy Eris Week! @erisweekofficial

It's my very first Eris Week, and I have something for every single day! As always, thank you for the beta reads @cauldronblssd @witch-and-her-witcher

Eris Week Day 1: Bonds | Bargains | Ao3

[After a horrible morning, young Eris makes a bargain with the person he trusts most in the world.]

And I've been meaning to tell you

I think your house is haunted

Your dad is always mad and that must be why

And I think you should come live with

Me and we can be pirates

Then you won't have to cry

Or hide in the closet

And just like a folk song

Our love will be passed on

“Eris?”

He heard her whispered voice before he saw her, and he let out a breath he'd been holding. He'd been afraid it was his father’s guard looking for him; perhaps Beron had decided that his punishment hadn't been enough. The terror in his chest hadn't quite subsided yet. He took a deep breath to try and steady his pounding heart.

“Eris,” she hissed out, her voice still quiet in his chambers. He could see her through the cross hatches of the door, her dark hair pulled back in a white bow and swishing down her back as she trotted over to look under his bed on quiet feet.

It wasn't a secret what happened in the Forest House–not to the Lady of Autumn, and not to the heir either.

“I'm here, Aida.” He kept his voice low, but cracked the wicker closet door open enough to give an invitation.

Nearly immediately, two dark eyes framed by long lashes were swimming in his vision as she popped her head through the door.

“Hi.” She pulled the rest of her body in, closing the door tightly behind them so the low light flickered in on them in miniscule squares, a checked pattern dotting her pale skin.

“Hi.”

“How'd you know?”

Aida smiled sadly, her rounded cheeks shifting with the movement. “My mother.”

Aida Franc’s mother was one of the court ladies of Autumn, and his mother's best friend. Of course she'd already known what was happening today, likely having already seen his mother with the gash along her arm. Hopefully, she'd healed it. Hopefully, he'd bought her time when he'd drawn Beron’s ire to himself.

“I told him to leave her alone,” Eris ground out, the venom and hatred barely overcoming the exhaustion in his voice. Beron would call this weakness, and he’d be right. Aida grabbed his arm and he winced, her brown eyes widening and then narrowing at his reaction.

“I hate him, Eris.” She spoke too loudly for the space they were in and Eris startled, putting a finger to her lips, cringing when he saw the blood still wet on his hand.

“You must be careful. If anyone ever heard you…”

Aida shook her head, her loose curls bouncing around her shoulders. “I don't care.” She lowered her voice at his frantic eyes. “I don't, Eris. What he does to you, to your mother, is wrong.”

To that, he had nothing to say. She was right, and he was embarrassed, the shame as hot as the big, fat tears beginning to slip down his face. He was nine; he knew he shouldn't cry like a baby any more. Beron had done everything he could and more to break him of the habit, but once they’d begun, he couldn’t stop them.

He wiped violently at the tears, his vision blurring before he remembered too late that the hand he’d wiped with was still covered in.

“Oh, come here.” Aida ripped the fabric of her skirt, tearing a sheet of it to wipe gently at his face.

“Your mother's going to have your hide for that,” he tried to joke, but the crack in his voice gave him away.

She scoffed. “She'll be with your mother well into the night. I doubt she'll notice.”

Their mothers were thick as thieves, having met in court when they were both new to the Forest House and immediately taking a liking to each other. Both married young, both from noble houses, and both pregnant with their first children, they'd become fast friends. Eris and Aida had been born within weeks of each other, and they had been tied at the hip since.

The difference between them, of course, was that Aida’s father loved her mother, dearly, deeply, and in the most profound way that a fae could love another: they were mates. Aida had been born from a union of love, not whatever cruel fate had bound Eris' parents together out of spite. Aida loved to tell Eris the story–her father had been visiting a foreign court on his own father's behalf when he'd stumbled–literally stumbled–into a rock hewn wall upon seeing her mother. He described her as a sparkling gem hidden in a mountain, and when her dazzling eyes had turned on him, the bond had snapped for them both. It was mere weeks before they were back in Autumn, and only months more before they were joyfully expecting Aida.

Perhaps that's why Aida always seemed to glow, to radiate joy, even when she was wracked with anger. She had been wanted, a treasure given from true love. Eris was only an heir, a means to an end, no love to be found between his mother and father.

“Have you ever thought about leaving?”

The words seemed to echo in the chamber of the closet, stretching out endlessly in the darkness.

“All the time. But there's nowhere to go.” He winced as she touched the cloth to his bleeding brow, then began working on his arm.

“What if I went with you?”

He'd thought about leaving, of course. Nearly every night as he tried to sleep, tried to convince himself that the nightmares at night were better than the ones he faced during the day.

He imagined running into the red and orange woods, the mists at his heels as he tore away into Prythian. But he'd never dared to dream that Aida might come, too.

“You couldn't, your parents–”

“Would find me again if we went to Night. You know I have family there.” She hadn’t met his eyes, but these weren’t answers that she was coming up with on the spot. Eris knew Aida, and that meant he could tell she’d thought this through.

His words were so quiet, just a whisper on his lips, that she wouldn’t have heard if she hadn’t been inches away. “They'd kill us if we were caught.”

“If we were caught.” Her brown eyes sparkled when she finally looked at him, the endless depths nearly black and twinkling with the stars of galaxies within them.

He considered. What if they left together? What of his mother? Would Beron kill her? Would he kill Aida’s parents if he pieced together how they'd fled? He squeezed his eyes shut.

“I can practically hear your thoughts spinning. It doesn't have to be today, Eris. Or even this year. We have all the time in the world.”

The thought calmed him.

“You would leave with me? Truly?” Even in the sparse light, he could see her wide grin stretching across her face.

“Of course, Eris. You're my best friend.” He couldn't help but smile back. She was his best friend, too–the first and only person he'd ever loved apart from his mother.

Aida tore another strip from her skirts, then paused, taking in Eris' bleeding palm.

“Here.” She gestured in the air, and was suddenly holding a knife with a jeweled hilt.

“You're getting better at that.”

She smiled wickedly. “I've been practicing stealing from the kitchens.”

He gasped when she moved her grip from the hilt to the blade, slicing a gash down her own palm then pressing it to his, intertwining their fingers tightly.

“I swear to you, Eris, we'll leave here one day. Somewhere your father won't find us. You and me.”

He could feel her warm blood leaking down his wrist where their hands had clasped, her dark determined eyes fixed on him. He felt the sharp sting of magic on his palm.

The wild grin hadn’t left her face as she pulled back and wiped at their palms, the wounds already nearly healed.

There, where the scars were, were matching identical marks. The skin was pink and delicate, smoothing around it before his very eyes, but it held a definite shape.

In both their palms was a star within a maple leaf, small enough to look like the remnants of a scraped hand acquired while playing.

He looked at her in the low, mottled light, her features bright and lovely even in the dark, and he thought about a life away from here. A life of adventure and new discoveries. A life with his best friend.

“You and me,” he echoed quietly, as her hand found his again.

The events of the morning were forgotten in the back of his mind, her hand back in his all that mattered.

Taglist for the week (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

@cauldronblssd @witch-and-her-witcher @chunkypossum @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @the-darkestminds

[classicanalyzer]

Dragon Prince S6 Thoughts

"Sometimes the line between mercy and cruelty can be thin." Aaravos and Startouch Elves

Well holy shit, that opening really went from wholesome Viren (who is alive) hugging Terry and celebrating Aaravos’ supposed “lie” to OH GOD CLAUDIA KILLED A CHILD. God, it's really terrifying seeing Claudia give so much to save her father...it really hits home how Viren felt responsible for leading her down this route. The tragic thing is that I think Viren knows deep inside that as of now, he can't help her...but he hopes he can inspire her to turn back. Despite everything she did, Claudia's actions to save her father were all for nothing. She lost a leg and her soul (it is yet to be seen if her soul can be brought back) and yet by the time she reached home, her father died yet again...this time for good. Claudia's screams were really chilling and sad.

At least, Terry is always there for Claudia...though I'm worried about what will happen to him given Claudia's increasing mental dive into darkness and insanity. He rightfully points out how revenge is different from love and how it drove Aaravos to the deaths of God who knows.

I really love that Viren didn't choose to reveal what he did to heal Soren. It would've just caused Soren more grief and pain. That's one of the most best things Viren could have done before his sacrifice. He carries on the absolute shame (I felt chills when I heard how he obtained the last part of the spell) that he caused rather than “pass it on” so to say to Soren.

Viren’s true death feels fitting for him. All this time everyone close to him ask if he was willing to risk his life for another. Dark Magic has ruined so many lives and yet also saved so man in some cases. There is a price to be paid. But finally, he proved that he was willing to do that rather than find some other way to pay the price or back out. This time he paid the price and did a truly selfless action where nobody had to get hurt...other than him. He lived his whole life choosing what he felt was pragmatic and selfish with only a few moments of his good self showing...he chose to finally die a servant of his home. While Soren will understandably never forgive him for what he did to him and the world, he will remember him for his last act of unselfish genuine goodness and living up to his desires of atonement rather than going back. I also love how his last words are the last words spoken by Harrow to him.

"I am a servant. I am a...servant." Viren's last words

That entire ship episode is so hilarious with the meta-commentary. The Celestial Elves were a really cool sub-ect of Skywing Elves. I also love the parallels between dealing with Ice Behmeath in the present and the Magma Titan in the past. Instead of killing the beast which left people killed, they found what made it so sad and everyone lives.

Also Callum and Rayla are back together! So happy and I wished we didn't have the break-up personally but still finally.

I now understand the Soren and Corvus ship, and I approve.

I'm so happy that Amaya and Janai finally got married at last. Too bad Karim had to ruin all the vibes temporarily, thankfully, the two were able to salvage it. Amaya and Janai truly deserve the world.

The build-up to when Ezran and Corvus realizes the true plan of Karim is really chilling.

S6 really has me lowkey ship Ezran and Aanya haha. Two badass, wise, and compassionate young rulers who lost their parents...speaking off, I can't imagine seeing Ezran in S7 now that he knows his kingdom is destroyed.

Sol Regem really is responsible for the events of the show. While it is dark how he died and it's horrible how he was responsible for his soulmate's death, I can't say he didn't deserve his death at all. He was the one who laid the seeds for humanity's conflict with elves and utterly despises humanity. He literally choked and burned on his own element.

Katolis being destroyed made me sad since it was our primary setting in the human realm for 6 seasons.

The Startouch Elves gave me so many Collector vibes. Aaravos really is the Ardyn of Dragon Prince with a bit of Collector and I'm all here for it. Now all that is needed is for him to get a stylish hat and turn the sky into an eternal darkness. Also, Aaravos was really that big in his natural mortal form...which made S5's horrifying reveal of what he said make a lot of sense.

A major theme of S6 and the show is how revenge won't get you anywhere but further metaphorically drown yourself. Another major theme is love (platonically and romantically), whether familial, platonic, or romantic.

S6 really is an amazing return to form, and it felt like the quality of the first three seasons was consistent. I cannot wait for the final season of this saga. I did hear about them wanting to make three more books and I wonder how they can go from here...but I trust them to do right based on S6.

[star-dust-shark]

important

I have something very very important to share. Please pay attention. It won’t take long.

The other day I was scrolling through YouTube shorts.

I found a video of a plus size woman, lip syncing to a trending song. I liked the video, and out of curiosity went to the comments.

Most of the comments were absolutely horrible.

“You’re disgusting”

“Just go on a diet already”

“Kill yourself”

“Stop posting already”

“What the hell is this”

I was so upset. This woman, just trying to live her life freely, trying to do something she was passionate about, being bullied and made fun of. 

I was the only one who said anything to stand up for her.

No one else cared.

To make matters worse, I continued scrolling for a while, and I found a woman who lip synced to the same audio. It was essentially the same video. 

The difference?

One was plus size.

One was skinny.

And when I went to the comments, there were amazing comments.

Glorious praise.

“Oh my god, you’re so pretty”!

“I wish I could look like you”

“Ur so talented! Keep going”

“I just subbed, ur incredible”

I scrolled. 

Not one hate comment.

See, here’s the thing.

People ( after the devastating George Floyd incident ) began to realize that  prioritizing the “Black Lives Matter” movement was vital, and that the crimes pushed upon black people were wrong.

BLM was essentially  a campaign encouraging people to treat others with kindness and respect, no matter how they looked.

This campaign changed lots of things worldwide, making the world a better place. Not perfect, do note, but better. Improved. 

It was incredible, really, considering black people used to be seen as a disgrace, and were seen as criminals.

So why shame people who are bigger? On how they look?

Black people can’t just change their skin.

I mean technically, they can, but they shouldn’t have to. They’re beautiful the way they are.

So why should bigger people be forced into feeling ugly? Forced into thinking that they have to change?

They’re beautiful.

As is any human being.

I believe that if some people realized this, maybe we could make a change.

I’m sick of hearing jokes about obesity in school hallways.

I’m horrified by how many people are scared to become larger because there’s some notion in their head that they’d be ugly.

I hate how many plus size people hate their bodies and wished they were skinny.

It’s horrible and wrong, and it needs to end. 

Please consider re-blogging this so we can get the word out.

Thank you.

[insertdisc5]

The tumblr q&a is over, but I was curious! I love all the different phrases the characters in isat/sasasa:p use--If it's something you can say, where did inspiration for "gems alive" and other phrases come from?

THANK YOU FOR ASKING BECAUSE I GET TO TALK ABOUT WORLDBUILDING AND SWEAR WORDS AND BRANDON SANDERSON

long post ahead

ok so when I was figuring out the world, I found this lecture on worldbuilding by Brandon Sanderson (go watch it, and also go read his books), and (im gonna paraphrase heavily here) one thing he mentioned is that, to make a memorable world, one thing you can do is pick a couple areas of culture, and go real deep with it. So like, pick fashion, and architecture, and interior design, and develop those a bunch, and bam! you convinced people you have a whole dang world, even though you only developed 3 areas of this world. hollow iceberg everyone thinks is a real iceberg.

he also mentioned the idea of like... getting weird with it? and develop based on a weird detail? for example, in his book The Stormlight Archives, one detail is that women have to hide their left hand at all times. ok, so what does that mean, whats taboo about a left hand? is the left hand shameful, or lewd somehow, the same way ankles were for us? what about fashion, what does women's fashion look like? and how do you live your every day life, knowing you can't show this hand, can you carry things the same way? etc

SO, for me, one of the Big Worldbuilding pillars i picked was, uh, swear words lol. or language and common expressions, more generally. i went on a whole journey where i was like... ok swear words in a LOT of languages (including french and english, both languages i speak fluently) are either sexual, or about gross bodily discharges. you know what words i mean!!!!!

and, well, i also didnt want the game to be full of those words, mostly because i think its a tightrope to use those words without seeming cringe, and also because i have a Core Memory of showing a comic to a colleague and she said "well i wouldve liked to show it to my kids, but you said fuck 12 times in there" and i didnt show my face to her for a week. family friendly family friendly family friendly

so what swear words should my characters use, that arent the same ones we use? and could those swear words actually tell us something about the world they live in? could i actually use those swear words... to show the characters come from different cultures???

and what COULD swear words be like, if theyre not about sex or body stuff? well irl they're usually about religions or belief. "oh god", "goddamnit", etc. as a sidenote, stuff like "oh my god" or "geez" arent used, because jesus christ is not canon to the ISAT universe. alright

i decided very early on i wouldnt have those in the game either, but i COULD have them be about the religions specific to this world. and for insults, i could have them be about stuff those beliefs would see as lesser.

anyway instead of talking about "gems alive" lets talk about "crab"

isabeau+mirabelle+bonnie use "crab" as a swear word because they follow a religion all around change, bettering yourself, evolving, and, the crab meme,

for those who dont get the joke, its about carcinisation, and about how a bunch of non-crab-like forms somehow evolved to a crab-like form. which would be horrible, for a religion all based around change!!! you mean we change and evolve, but theres a chance we might all become crabs??? CRAB!!!!!!!

anyway having "crab" kinda reads as 1. swear word 2. thats funny and weird (sets the tone) 3. tells you they know what crabs are (world not that different from ours, AND means they live close-ish to the coast, aka not land locked) and 4. crabs are somehow hated/feared, even if as the player you dont get why, it shows this country has its own culture (even if you dont get the crabs joke, which uuuh apparently doesnt work as well in countries that dont have this specific meme. WHATEVER!!!!)

(a few people came to me saying "heh, i get it, because crab and crap are very similar words" and um actually i did not think about that. crab is just a funny word on its own, and also i am a comedy genius without even trying)

anyway tldr: swear words as a worldbuilding tool. soon in theaters

[mins-fins]

june 20th.

&&. on june 20th, the world ended. the sky turned orange and the ground beneath your feet cracked.

pairing: lee donghyuck x m!reader

genre: fluff?? angst??

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 1k

notes: this is one of the strangest things i think ive written in a long time 😭 i have no idea how this idea came to be in the first place i kinda just wrote out what came to my mind?? i also spent so long trying to figure out which nct member to write this for and i literally just picked hc because he's my sisters favorite member (#THANKSTI) so yeah idk why this exists but it does 🤷‍♂️

on june 20th, your alarm rang two minutes early.

on june 20th, you gave your mother a kiss on the cheek before leaving for school.

on june 20th, you missed the bus and were forced to walk the whole way to school.

on june 20th, you had walked into class late for the first time since september.

on june 20th, the sky was full of dark clouds, you assumed it was going to rain later that day.

on june 20th, you skipped one of your classes for the first time ever, biology, one you always hated.

on june 20th, you noticed seven different cracks in the sidewalk.

on june 20th, the air seemed different..

on june 20th, all that you could think about was your upcoming birthday, excitement surging through your veins.

you did what you always did. kicked small rocks, hopped over fences, hummed the lyrics to your favorite song, danced to the lyrics of your favorite song in public with no shame, skipped over the cracks on the sidewalk, did cartwheels, you were having fun.

for some reason, the day of june 20th made you feel free.

nobody could stop you, not your friends, not asshole teachers, not screaming neighbors, nobody could stop you.

well, maybe the world ending could stop you.

with a smile on your face and an energetic pep in your step, you make your way through the now noisy neighborhood.

people are screaming, the sky is an unnatural color, the air feels as if it's slowly poisoning your lungs, the cracks beneath your feet have now doubled in number.

but for some reason, you feel easy?

the prospect of the world ending is a funny one, one you never thought you'd be living ever. in movies, it's branded as such a horrible thing, but you don't think you've ever felt happier.

the music blaring through your headphones distracts you, the people panicking around you seem more like blurs then actual people. they all have lives, some of them have children, some of them have grandchildren, some of them have family out of the country, some of them are going to be celebrating their last birthdays today, who knows what was going on in their lives earlier today that will now mean nothing in a good two hours.

your complex emotions surprise you, but the smile on your face doesn't falter, and you like that it doesn't.

because if you could spend the last moments of your life being happy, why would you be mad about that?

"everything alright? your not hurt are you?" you wrap your arms around your mother, resting your head on hers.

"i'm alright" you whisper, arms clinging around her.

your hair is disheveled, probably due to the absolute maddening things you'd been doing on the sidewalk.

"oh honey! donghyuck called, he was asking for you".

the name gets an eyebrow raise out of you.

donghyuck?

donghyuck as in lee donghyuck? he called? why would he call? why would he be asking for you? why would he—

oh, oh my goodness.

"what did he ask for?" you immediately separate from the hug, and your mother gives you a puzzled look. "did he ask for something from me specifically?"

"he just asked for you because he said he wanted to tell you something but you weren't here—"

holy shit.

"oh i have to go.."

your mother blinks once again, but then she realizes what your talking about, and she sighs. "honey, you still haven't told him?"

you don't even try to battle the allegations, just press a kiss to her cheek and make your way towards the door. "today's the day mom! the world is ending!"

your optimism shocks you, and you race out of the door, nothing else on your mind but him.

on june 20th, your life seemed to take a strange turn.

on june 20th, your mundane routine suddenly became extraordinary.

on june 20th, you realized it was your last chance to tell donghyuck how you feel.

the world is ending, the sky has turned orange, the sidewalk has began cracking beneath your feet, people are screaming, crying, clutching onto their family members, it's your last day, it's everyones last day, tomorrow, you'll all be nothing but empty corpses.

all of you have dreams, all of you had desires, things you'll never be able to pursue now because your demise is coming much sooner than you expected.

there's only one thing at your mind at the moment, and that's the most annoying person ever.

today is a day like no other, a day which will all be in memory by the time the week passes, your feet push you through the pain you feel, because you've never been able to get such words out.

where is he.. where is he.. where is he..

when you spot lee donghyuck, you shout, and he doesn't even have to look at you to know what it is.

you tackle him to ground, his back colliding with the soft grass in his front yard as you fall right on top of him. a smile comes to your face as you look down at him, with his pretty eyes and pretty smile.

"you're so stupid!" you yell, he just chuckles, letting you remain on top of him, because the world is ending, and this is it. "you called!?"

"you're literally stupider!" he rebuts. "you came!"

you scoff, oh this could've all been yours before if you weren't such a coward, but there is always a time for everything, even if this is the last time.

"i am so in love with you" you whisper, leaning down to press a kiss onto his lips. "you're such an idiot, a pretty idiot".

donghyuck just smiles, wrapping his arms around your neck. "you love me".

"of course i do".

"the world is ending, baby".

but for some reason you aren't crying.

you aren't sad, you aren't crying or anything, you're just living in the moment.

"i know, but i love you".

on june 20th, the world ended.

on june 20th, the sky turned orange and the ground beneath your feet cracked.

on june 20th, you told lee donghyuck you loved him.

on june 20th, you spent your final moments with the boy you loved the most.