#the problem isn't the slang

[netscapenavigator-official]

I always find it funny that Gen Z uses "rizz" as an example of how Gen Alpha is "brain rotted."

Like... I understand what "rizz" means. Maybe the problem isn't the slang, but you getting older and feeling entitled to the youth of those younger than you. Ever think about that?

[writeouswriter]

Girl, help, the book authors are trying too hard to be "hip" with the fleeting "teen lingo" and trends again, immediately dating their works before they're even released

[specterthief]

would the most faithful localization for 神っぽいな be "based"

[ravenlocksentwisted]

1994:

My mom, to another adult: Its's a POS, is what it is.

Me: Mommy, what does POS mean?

Mom: ...

Mom: ok it does mean piece of shit, but you can't say that

2024:

Reply to an artist's post: I want to eat this /pos

[clitorphosis]

REAL MUSOR

Leon S. Kennedy x reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, NON CONSENSUAL SEX, STALKING, SOMNOPHILIA, SMUT, female reader, Leon is a cop and a little bit obsessive, breeding, he is icky, mutual masturbation (reader isnt aware of it btw), unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex, entering and breaking, forced exhibitionism I guess?, dirty talk, pet names, light gaslighting, non consensual voyeurism, use of spycams, police corruption, non consensual drug use.

Summary: dating isnt really Leon's thing, to waste his precious time and money over a woman that may refuse to have sex with him at the first date isn't worth it. Sure, putting cameras in your apartment to jerk off of your body and breaking in to fuck you are considered much better ways to get what he wants - quicker too.

notes: Musor is a derogatory slang term for a cop (=pig), also it means "trash" :3 I don’t condone anything here in real life. :3 uhm, reblogs or comments and any kind of feedback are really appreciated!

tags: @withonly-sweetheart

Leon has a problem and it started many years ago. Not his alcoholism, no, that can be put aside as something to indulge when life hits hard. Guilty pleasure one would call it. Not his job too, he likes being a cop - it comes with its own advantages. His problem is much simpler and it also got nothing to do with his dick.

Dating apps. They aren’t his cup of tea; meeting new people is hard and nowadays most of them try to find someone on dating sites or apps. Wasteful, he is an employed man with a big responsibility so to court a woman that may be a gold digger would be foolish. Also, unluckily for Leon, one date is not enough to bring most women into bed and the prices are already too high so risking to find a parasite without any payback isn’t something straight out of his dreams.

Also, women don’t get wet if you are a cop unless they have a cop fetish. Apparently, uniforms and handcuffs are only cool in the bedroom. Not like he minds that, cause with time Leon found other ways to enjoy his women. Much more preferable ways.

Two or three knocks on the wooden surface with his knuckles, fingers ran through his blonde locks so they wouldn’t dangle in front of his eyes. Your door opens wide with your confused eyes set on his frame, not expecting any guests, especially a cop. A bad omen.

“Good afternoon, I am here to check. Someone complained about noises coming from your apartment at this hour, miss” Leon explains, showing a pearl-like smile. Too perfect, too cheesy, but attractive appearance always soothed people’s worries, being easy on the eyes makes things uncomplicated. Who doesn’t trust beautiful people? “It won’t take too long”

A pensive hum escapes from your tensed lips, but there is no other choice other than accepting this - you nod, letting him enter inside without any additional questions. Like taking candy from a baby. And you were dumb, which ended up playing nice for him.

The apartment is a studio one, not expensive too. That was expected, you look young, but not enough to have your own place. Renting at a cheap price in not notoriously good neighborhood suits you better.

When the checkup is finished, you seemed so worried to hear his eventual words or clear bullshit. Not every person is used to a cop’s presence in their own cozy little place. Suspicions are natural reactions, but not for you, still believing in that little story that he told you before. A blatant lie, only the dumb bitch would have believed that. You.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry—“ you were apologizing almost every time he would appear in front of you. And even now. Annoying, but also hearing your words filled with so much anxiety made him feel good. Really good. And any wrong word would make you cry easily. Which would be nice to see. He cut your quick rambling, waving a hand mindlessly as his eyes travel to shelves.

“Yeah,“ Whatever. Leon nods absently, finally crumbling to the urge to glance into your almost glossy eyes - with great pleasure enjoying his own reflection in them. His mind wanders to possible images of your face filled with tears underneath him, easily making his pants feel tight around his cock. He can’t help himself. “Maybe someone holds grudges against you, be careful”

Another bullshit, but still you appeared unsure and at the edge of his presence until he was out of your apartment. There should be kept a count of his successful lies. As a respectful man, it was hard not to thank you and wishing well-being before leaving. After all, it would be a bad touch to leave without a gift, right? Leon hadn’t actually thought these little cameras would be used today, but fate had other plans for you. In his defense, it was really hard not to set those little cameras in your apartment while he was ‘doing’ his job. Especially when you were so sweet to him. Weirdly enough, installing them was an easy and quick task, even simpler was to find crannies or shelves to put in these little cameras he had bought or confiscated. After all, it would have been a big waste to throw them away, right?

So sweet. You were asking for it.

An easy target too. And now many rooms were under his watchful eye; bathroom (the best view is there), bedroom and also in living room too. In a little time, Leon got to know your schedule, it wasn’t hard to remember - a simple routine, even a kid would be able to memorize it. Like a little TV show, he enjoys watching after work or during his rare vacations. Whatever you do on Friday morning, when you return home, and when you usually go to sleep. Or when you have your private time, masturbating in bed alone and filling his ears with your moans. Or even better, showering or resting in the hot tub, your tits and body exposed to him - like a nicely wrapped present that he needs to open one day.

The best part is - you aren’t aware of this.

You aren’t aware that many evenings when your fingers creep their way down to your pussy to part its lips and rub slow circles on already swollen clit under the sounds of cheap-acted porn actress’ moans - these evenings were shared with Leon. There is that arousing wet sound when your fingers stroke your leaking pussy. His attention easily glues to the screen, out of habit freeing his hard cock from the pants - it bobs and twitches in the air with already formed beads of pre-cum on his aching tip just begging for any kind of attention. Your lips would be nice, but a tight pussy even better. His fist cups it in a tight grip, slowly pumping his cock while watching the sight of your trembling and parted legs. And your moans, little breathless whimpers - his favorite. Sadly, this gets muffled by his moans, as his own strokes become rougher and quicker trying to keep up with your fingers. Leon knows the signs of your approaching orgasm, he knows everything about you too well. Watching like a possessed man as your toes curl from the growing pleasure, thighs snap closed around your wrist as your back arches while making more sweet noises.

He cums with you too, at the same time. His body tenses and his hand grips tighter around his hard cock. Eyes rolling back. Mind blank, intense orgasm hits him hard as usual. No other thoughts other than how good you are for him. And pretty. His breathing is hard and heavy, feeling his cum sticking to the skin of his hand and stomach.

The best porn he can ever see - special too, only for him. Putting such a show for him to enjoy after a hard day of work.

Feeling the stickiness of his cum on his palm and not being able to avert his eyes from your spent body. This brings him to his senses like an apple falling onto his head, a sweet idea. He needs more of you.

It has become a routine at this point.

Did he abuse his authority? Yes. Does he care? He doesn’t, because in other circumstances he would do that again.

Watching your body and getting off from this little show isn’t enough anymore. Doesn’t hit the same. Like a drug addict, searching for another dose and something stronger one can offer. He needs his hands on you. Going further, exploiting every opportunity his job gave him - it wasn’t hard to start breaking in without any traces.

Leon can’t be reckless nor impulsive, but to keep his hands to himself and not give in to a sweet fruit was hard.

Your sleep is short, he noticed that soon. You wake up at every little noise coming from different sources. That won’t do. This is not good and can’t be healthy for a young woman. On one of many visits to your empty apartment, to take a little present for himself or to adjust cams, an idea popped into his mind: why not put something in the bottles of water? The dose would be light anyway, this drug can easily knock out a big, burly man and Leon is here just to take care of you, in a boyfriend-like way. Not to overdose you.

Your apartment feels homely to him already, kicking off his shoes before walking freely around the place. He may be a cop, but not a pig. The anticipation was insupportable, months of waiting for your body, many concerns - not being really sure about the method and the dose. What if it wasn’t enough, what if it wouldn’t work, and many-many ‘if’. Leon had waited enough, there was a limit to his patience and it was already tearing apart with every passing second.

The mattress beneath you dips softly with his added weight, in the dark room the outlines of your figure are still visible, and the edge of your shirt is rode up and shamelessly exposes the flesh of your stomach - what a tease you are and you don’t even realize it. Your unconscious body, deep in the sleep, and he probably has all night to enjoy you. This heightens his arousal, not daring to touch you for a solid minute - not believing how lucky he is right now. Blood buzzes in his ears, hearing his own thoughts now: you, fuck you dumb, and need to cum in that pussy.

“I know you so well,” Leon whispers, his voice comes out shaky. What a man wouldn’t do to stuff a pussy. His lips carefully kissed yours, not being able to pull away his eyes from your peaceful face. Tracking out every little twitch in your features, but you are in a deep slumber. “like a book that I learned to remember. By heart. Inside… and out”

His hand lightly touches your neck, giving a brief squeeze, watching you gasp when he lets it go. Still asleep. Leon is testing the waters here.

“Oh, it’s alright, sweetie ” Leon whispers, not being able to hide his fascination towards your state. Cupping your jaw and tilting it to the side, like a doll to play and move around as much as he wants. “We are on camera, this is so important for both of us. Something to remember, right?”

This is wrong, of course, in the back of his mind someone whispers that Leon shouldn’t enjoy this so much - you are unconscious, not aware, but that’s the thrill. In any other circumstances, he could pull out a gun to force you, but the idea was pulled aside as the sight of your malleable state is much better. His fingers rubbed your thighs, pushing them apart easily so he could position himself in between. So soft, he can’t help but enjoy the sensation of your skin, his hand impatiently slips to push away the fabric of your underwear, to get a real glance and close of your not-so-aroused pussy. Too bad, but this is easy to fix. A mouthful spit of saliva would be quick and nice, a way to avoid a headache, but he changed his mind - your pussy is shaved. Leon whistles lowly, what a good girl you are. To bury his face in your pussy would be a nice start, after all, you have shaved for him, no? He is nice enough to reward you for this.

Shifting a little bit, easily manhandling your legs and placing them on his shoulders. Leon spits down a mouthful of saliva on your cunt, before leaning down with a long and broad stripe across your pussy, parting the lips with his tongue, groaning against your slit. Tongue glides across the folds, slowly warming your body up, like a hungry man trying to relish in the taste of your pussy so sweetly lingering in his mouth.

“Such a good girl, letting me play with you like that” Leon groans against your clit, it sends a pleasant vibration across your limp body. His hands grip tightly the flesh of your thighs, a normal person would have woken up to push him away, right? His mouth sucks on the clit, giving light bites with his teeth and your hips naturally try to ride him, messily bucking into his face with every rapid lick of his tongue across your sensitive bud.

Fuck, your reactions are cute, he wants more. His two digits push inside your hole, starting to move in and out of you shortly - making your body flinch again and a soft moan draws from your lips. He kept lapping across your slicked folds, his teeth nibbling on the sensitive nub, but not enough to hurt - his tongue laps away that bite anyway, not forgetting to suck your clit in between his lips too.

Your cunt gushes wetly around his fingers, they curl up against your walls, with the rough pace pumping and press on the velvety and wet skin, until he finds the spongy, sweet spot that made your hole clench tighter around his fingers. Soft and weak moans escape from your now parted lip, chest raises up and down rhythmically with every thrust. That’s a good sign. The taste of you and your natural body reactions entrances him, making his cock throb more in his pants, straining so hard and uncomfortable against the fabric. Leon pulls away from your now-soaked slit, impatiently freeing his cock from the jeans. It would be a waste to finish this so quickly after just getting a taste, fingers pull out of your hole roughly with a wet pop, your cunt left dripping, wet, and cold now like he took all the heat with it. Frankly, Leon does not care about your pleasure. Unlikely he will any time soon.

“Huh, you like this” Leon mumbles out slowly to himself, his hand gripping his cock and it twitches in his fist as Leon began slowly stroking it. Thumb presses on its tip, stimulating more pleasure through his body and letting out a breathless moan as his blue gaze surveys his work; your warmed-up pussy, more aroused than before. It glistens with your slick and his saliva on it. What an addicting sight. A light feeling of pride rose in his chest, as his hand flexed again and more beads of pre-cum formed on the tip, quick strokes smeared it along his sensitive and hard flesh. His cock throbs and aches to be inside you. Hell, Leon needs to stop before he cum over your unconscious state. Impatiently not noticing his own heavy breathing filling the air, he positioned his cock to your pussy.

“Who would have known you would be so fucking wet for me” he cooed huskily, rubbing his cockhead against your slicked folds, bumping against your clit. Your arousal is mixed with his saliva, it spreads easily on his veiny and hard cock - to use it as a lube. Easy and free, he doesn’t bother to buy one after all. His free hand grips your hip tightly, angling it to finally guide his cock into your neglected hole. “you really waited for me to use you, right? Just dying for more.”

Deep down, like every man, Leon prioritizes his pleasure. Who doesn’t actually? Good women should be eager to please and look nice for him. Attractive even. Unfortunately, your state isn’t the one to expect the eagerness. But there are advantages to this too: unconscious girls are much easier to enjoy. But still, giving a free pass to you isn’t something that will please him, no matter how good your pussy is. His pleasure has been always the most important element in the sex. Would not be fair to his former lovers too. He is so nice after all, any other man would have pulled out a gun to threaten you after breaking in to fuck you without putting a substance into some of your drinks. That’s an idea to keep for next time.

Your pussy feels so nice, your walls stretch around his length slowly. Leon imagined it differently, not so tight, but tighter it is, better for him. Warm heat envelops him almost in a vice-like grip, forcing a low groan coming from his throat. Maybe this wouldn’t be pleasant for you if you were conscious. But also, aren’t you so sweet and nice? Of course, you would have let him do that over and over. And if you wouldn’t - again, Leon doesn’t care. Your pussy engulfs him in so addictingly warm and to make this even better, your walls clench ridiculously tight around his cock. For a moment, Leon was not sure he would have been able to last long enough for him. Your pussy makes him dizzy, so much that he needed to take a pause, keeping his cock halfway through.

Leon slowly pulls out, leaving inside you just the head of his cock, his gaze is not on you anymore. He couldn’t care less about your state, but the sight of your pussy stretching around his tip is the one he can get drunk on. Popping it in and out, over and over until all he can hear are wet and filthy noises - and his own moans mixed with heavy breathing, while more slick gushing and now sinking his cock into you deeper and so easily. That didn’t last long, he hates denying himself what he needs. What he craves and now he craves to fuck you. And cum. Inside you. And he will.

“Taking me so right… fuck” Leon groans, burying his cock deep inside you, his hips meet flat against your ass. Slowly starting to roll his hips back and forth, deep and slow thrust, hitting his cockhead against your cervix.

This is addicting to him, worse than any kind of drug. Mindlessly mumbling out senseless praises, while his hips rock into you in quick thrusts, heavily breathing and not being able to look away from your leaking cunt. God, the images of you waking up and begging to stop fill his mind in a suffocating manner - his cock throbs inside you, another slam of hips. A hard gulp.

A man should be careful with his own wishes. Nails weakly dig into his biceps, not enough to leave half-moon marks. Even a kitten would have been able to leave a deeper scratch on his skin. But still, Leon’s hips stutter, realizing you shouldn’t move. In the dark, your eyes are half open, clearly fighting with the grogginess of the drug in your system and trying to orientate.

“Shhhh… easy there, sweetie. Be a good girl, get back to sleep” The tone of his voice is sweet and whisper-like, but the breathless lilt is still there. Your back aches weakly again, feeling him hitting your g-spot in slow and agonizing thrusts, but this isn’t enough to pull you out of your state. God your head is dizzy and the man in front of you is so blurry too. Heavy breathing escapes from your lips, swallowing hard the excessive saliva pooling in your mouth. It is hard to squint, hard to focus on anything. A side effect he didn’t know about, still not his fault.

“Not real, just a bad dream” Leon adds, his breath fanning across the side of your head, watching how your expressions shift weakly and eyelashes flutter as he slowly drags his cock out to bury it back in the same pace into your pulsing pussy.

“No…uhh…-not a dream…” your voice is so weak, meek, his dick fills your pussy entirely, every drag of it makes your body tremble and tighten around it more. You are easy to play though, mind is so fogged by the drug it would be easy to convince you.

Blue eyes almost spark in the dark, looking down at your confused and groggy state, his hand covers your mouth - he doesn’t need any noises other than moans and whimpers coming from you. Too distracting. You are clearly not aware of what’s happening, feeling the heaviness of your body dragging you back into the intoxicated slumber.

“…Just a dream. ” Leon repeats, enjoying watching you trying to push him away, your hands ghostly pressing against his chest in a weak protest. “Be a good girl, nothing bad will happen”

And these struggles make his cock throb in your pussy. So addicting to watch how the drug in your system is still kicking strong making your limbs return to being limp again, God, he was so close to just busting a load in you.

His pace quickens, becoming more ruthless and messier than before. He can’t stay here forever, unfortunately, but god he wants to fall asleep on you with his cock and cum buried inside you - to watch your reaction in the morning. All he can hear right now is the flesh-hitting sounds mixing with wet ones too. Your lips twitch, heavy pants and whimpers drawl out of them, while your pussy clenches tightly in a silent plea to fill it, not only with his cock, but sperm too.

God, and if you aren’t on the pill? What a nice present he may give you after this night. Getting you pregnant was enough for his hips to stutter in their pace for the last time, before shooting a hot load of sperm inside you. Burying deep inside, the warm cum fills your pussy almost to the brim, his mind is blank - focused how his cock pumped rope after rope inside you. When he is all spent, Leon slowly pulls out of you, and a disappointed whimper escapes from you too - too bad, he is not going to let you get your high. Too much work. His blue eyes watch how the cum oozes out of your hole for the last time.

The lights of the morning are particularly blinding, you’ve never noticed that before. Dryness in your throat. Like needles pressing inside every time you swallow down, aching for a gloss of water. The urge to throw up and to hide away from the rays of sunlight is overwhelming, not stronger than the heaviness in your body though. You force yourself out of the bed, dragging yourself to the bathroom was so hard, like a heavy bag instead of your body - it is already almost impossible to wake up and get your things done. Washing away the exhaustion from your face with the chilly water from the faucet. Your mind is foggy and not catching on to sticky feeling in your panties. Nonetheless, your body screams at you - your stomach feels turned inside out, messy, and used. And unsatisfied. Like you had the worst sex in your life, without getting your own high.

Your memory tries to flash out the sight of the dark room and blue eyes, being filled and hearing his voice whispering heavily, but you shake your head - pushing it away in your mind. Hiding it in imaginary drawers, - just a dream. Nothing more, you check your door every night. It is always locked.

Yes, a bad one, explains your state too. The nightmare does exhaust you easily after all.

[thegoldencontracts]

I genuinely do believe platonic fem!Yuu interactions are very underrated.

Now, I- definitely disagree with the notion they'd use her as a mother figure. It's a bit odd. But Fem!yuu and the characters could have so many funny interactions.

Yuu teaching Malleus about slang, correcting him on all of the things Lilia told him for shits and giggles. What is a tweet? Malleus asks, and Yuu sighs in exasperation as she pulls out the flowchart one more time.

Or Yuu and the Octatrio, occasionally teaching them about human things. Silly ones. Azul once asked her what 'skibidi toilet' meant... The problem was, she didn't know either. Floyd asked why humans never tried taming zebras; Jade asked her what a 'meme' was. This is clearly outside of her pay grade.

Yuu pulls so many updog jokes on Sebek, Deuce, and Kalim- even Ace isn't immune, despite his own... Proficiency, for lack of a better word. After his own 'deez nuts' jokes, he himself cannot help but fall prey to the trap.

Jack awkwardly yet discreetly handing her a magically summoned pad upon her period catching her by surprise... After all, he can smell blood. It's so, so awkward in the moment, but Yuu appreciates it afterwards.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

(the rare) Ghost's Empire of Icks

I'm gonna be honest, I think a lot about Ghost, but I don't put much to paper. I think that it's because maybe I write so much König that I don't have much time for the big Brit. I do like him, but ya know, time. And energy too. However, today I woke up and I chose British. I must be true to my heritage.

Art from This Post

So! Ghost is rather different from the others because I suspect that every spark of joy in this man's heart is naught but a wee ember. He's genuinely such a massive killjoy it's insane.

There is no doubt in my mind that Ghost is the hardest person in the 141 to get along with. Not because he's mean, he's just... Flat.

See, the problem with Ghost is that he makes jokes all the time, it's just nobody but the 141 team picks up on them.

Ghost has the driest black British humour known to mankind. It's insanely hard to tell when he's joking about having beaten a man to death for a cup of coffee or if he actually did it. The problem is that there's a very good chance he isn't joking, but who's gonna tell the you that he's not? It's funny to watch you try and figure it out yourself.

Struggle, bitch.

That's essentially the T141 motto when it comes to figuring out Ghost's character. Gotta learn to earn, baby.

But the thing is, a pattern starts to form.

Whenever something goes wrong, Ghost will make the flattest joke you've ever heard.

*Car breaks down* Ghost: "Whelp, looks like we're walkin' boys. Cheer up, it's only a ten mile hike. We'll be there soon enough."

That's how subtle his humour is. You might genuinely mistake it for optimism if you didn't know him better. It's hard to follow sometimes, his jokes can be a wee bit cerebral, but he's a funny guy in all honesty. Not bad company after all.

Ghost might be the hardest person to really get in the 141, but if you crack the code he's absolutely hilarious. He genuinely is! It's just usually the most sarcastic one-liner you've ever heard.

If it's not hard to get Ghost's jokes, it's easy to understand how he feels about good ol' Great Britain.

He's a bloody patriot.

Patriotic to a fault.

That's not to say he can't take a joke, of course not. Hell, he's cracking them half the time. He is totally fine with laughing off how shitty his country is

But if you genuinely mean it? If you genuinely think Britain suck? Oh he has words. Maybe not out loud, but he's judging you hardcore.

You don't like the rain? Tough. Rain's what makes the Englishman a hardened man.

You don't like all their slang? Get used to it. If he can learn American slang to get your movies and use South African to go undercover, you can learn his. He's pretty petty about this too.

If you think Britain has a lot to answer for? He does agree, he's not going to advocate for colonialism and genocide, but also 'the past is the past so there's not much use dredging it back up'. He's a bit of a prick about this actually. I could have a lot to say to him, but he's too patriotic to really accept any faults.

He's also just really obnoxious about anything British. If it was invented by a Brit? He'll be sure to bring it up (notably will not bring up the fact that the inventor was actually Welsh/Scottish/Northern Irish)

Tying in with his patriotism, Ghost is a bit... Stubborn. He's a bit of a stick in the mud, if you will. Bullheaded to a fault. He'll refuse to admit to something going wrong in his life in any way shape of form. Unfortunately, this mostly shows up when his hearing bothers him.

"Once went to a concert in Stonehenge. Crackin' good concert, but I got a ringin' in my ears for weeks afterwards. Still got it, if I'm gonna be honest."

"Wasn't that when you enlisted in the military? You know, started doing firearms training?"

"Well yeah. Why?"

It will take ages to get Simon's attention. Not because he's not interested, but because he just can't hear too well. When it's quiet he can filter noise easily enough, but if you're trying to get his attention in a club it's next to impossible.

When he's in loud situations, he's learned to rely a fair bit on lip reading. He'll never admit it, of course. He can hear just fine, you know.

He is too stubborn to take a hearing test. You'll just have to suffer with yelling at him when he's just in the next room or having to go hunt him down in the house whenever you need to get his attention.

Speaking of, finding Ghost is a whole issue in and of itself. He's a big man, about 6'5 (maybe a bit under but nobody would dare question him), and pretty broad. However, when he's moving about, he's entirely silent.

The problem with this is that Ghost likes to walk around quite a bit. If you leave to go do some shopping and ask him to wait outside the changing rooms, he'll bugger off and do his own thing.

You can't call his name, but you can try his phone. You just have to hope he has it on him. Or that it's charged, he's horrible for keeping it uncharged.

He's a bit of a menace with his sneaking off. Usually it's fine, but sometime you need him right now and he's off in the ether doing whatever

You'll get a phone call from the bank that he needs to take immediately and you'll spend the next fifteen minutes scurrying around the house trying to find him. You can't call his name, you just have to hope you find him as the person on the other end of the line steadily grows more irate with each passing minute.

It's a genuine nightmare scenario that you have to go through on a monthly basis

Once you find him, he's under his car in the garage fixing something and he's completely oblivious as to why you're so upset.

"If you needed me so badly, why didn't you just yell my name?"

You're going to kill him in his sleep one day.

Anyways, those are just some of my thoughts. I think he's a big gross man but I love him. He's just so grumpy all the time that it's fun. Grumpy, sarcastic, bitter. The perfect man.

Ghost Dump

Ghost Headcanons

[steddieas-shegoes]

Wiggly 🧠🪱 Wednesday

@runninriot decided to call me out at the perfect time 😘

eddie munson knows he has to leave hawkins. he decides to go as far as humanly possible, even though he'll miss everyone, even though it's the biggest risk he's ever taken. even though it might not work out. he buys a one way ticket to london and doesn't look back.

okay, he does look back a little. he calls wayne every friday and dustin every sunday. he calls the band once a month, planning it specifically for when he knows they're all together so he doesn't have to pay for three separate international calls.

but one thing he never does is call steve.

here's the thing: maybe if he'd been smart, and just said goodbye like a friend does, maybe a pat on the back or a quick hug, he could.

but he'd done something stupid when he said goodbye to steve, something he told himself he wasn't gonna do, but did anyway. he kissed him. right on the lips, on his doorstep, tears in his eyes.

and steve didn't understand because eddie just told him he would be taking a road trip. he didn't know it was goodbye.

dustin tells him steve asks about him all the time now. wayne says that harrington boy shows up every weekend to see if he's back yet. gareth even mentioned seeing him around town, wearing one of eddie's shirts.

but he's in london, and he's got a job, and a flat, and he's even managed to make a friend or two. if he went back, even for a visit, he knows what would happen. one look at steve and he'd abandon the new life he's living and commit to a lifetime of dealing with hawkins.

so he stays. and he finds comfort in living somewhere just foreign enough that he has to learn new slang and polite customs. he manages to avoid steve for nearly a year.

but dustin is a snitch, and wayne doesn't let eddie stand in his own way, and eddie comes home after a shift to steve harrington standing at the entrance to his building.

"steve?"

"did you come across the ocean to get away from me?"

it throws eddie off, hearing steve think the problem was him. as if eddie hasn't considered steve being the whole reason to go back this whole time.

"i came across the ocean to keep myself safe, to keep everyone i care about safe."

"so you kissed me knowing you wouldn't be back? and didn't call or anything."

eddie pushes steve inside.

steve's mad, but he lets eddie keep touching him. steve's mad, but he lets eddie hug him for minutes, silent as he wraps his arms around him, too. steve's mad, but he holds eddie when he starts crying and apologizing.

eddie's dumb, but he isn't dumb enough to let steve walk out of his life the way he walked out of steve's.

eddie's in love, always has been, probably always will be. and steve might be too.

steve stays the night. and then the week. he had no return flight planned and eddie doesn't push.

he does call robin twice, and then calls dustin to tell him he thinks he's gonna stick around in london for a bit, see what this place has to offer.

eddie listens from the table, where he's planning his groceries around what steve wants to cook for them next week.

he smiles as steve ends the call, comes up behind him, and wraps his arms around him, kissing the top of his head and then his neck.

"you wrote mountain dew twice, baby."

"because i want two of them."

steve laughs and it's the only thing eddie was truly missing here.

and now he doesn't have to.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

i'll tag a few people who i would like to live inside their brain for a day: @wormdebut @little-annie @thisapplepielife @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @pennyplainknits

[kanmom51]

Pool fun Jeju day 2 (Episode 5)

Or

What JM gets up to when he has a proper wall to hide behind

or

JK is JM's toy - he told us so himself

or

Do we play the "find the couple" game again?

With those three alternative headers do I really need to write a post? 🤣🤣

Probably not. But where's the fun in that?

I guess we need to cut this into 3 parts. In the pool, out of the pool and back in the house. Or, during, after and after after, or, and this is the one I love the most, naughty JM, payback JK and double payback JM.

In the pool

There aren't enough WTFs in the world to throw at whatever was going on with those two in that pool. And yes, I am very much aware of the fact that there were actually 3 people in that pool. Not sure JM and JK were though, lol.

What strikes me funny is that we got to see way more sus Jikookery when Tae was around than when he wasn't. Maybe it was because having Tae there as a buffer made it easier to play the deniability card, maybe it was because they allowed themselves to be like that, again, because of that buffer called "the guest", lol. And maybe, just maybe, any "too friendly" activity on the first night found it's way onto the editing floor, figuratively, because, once again, it was way harder to explain it away.

Basically, with "the guest" involved in the games it's easier for all parties involved to push the boundaries without it being too much for the audiences 'allergic to queer' sensitive stomachs.

Whatever whichever, JM was in a mood. Clearly feeling MUCH better than he did the day before and out to get HIS!

Oh JM darling, your naughty naughty side is showing.

Same side a glass wall prevented us from seeing just the night before.

He was all in. Deep.

What was he up to there?

Why? Why the cut????

The amount of cuts going on. Dudes, enough with denying us!!

and this one.

Funny how there is no need to cut out the parts JK is going for Tae, lol.

And this cut here.

Once again JM getting handsy there. And if there was any kind of 'retaliation' the editors decided it was not meant for our eyes, lol.

It's bad enough those two (as in JM and JK) made sure to do his naughty behind a wall. Do they have to cut all the fun out? Well, not all the fun, but the juicy parts of it?

And then, after all those cuts this is what they decide to leave in?

Wtf was this all about?

On second thought, perhaps it's better you don't tell me, lol.

But before I do move on, do I mention that the way JK went for JM's hair like that and the way JM had no problem with it feels like this isn't their first rodeo?

Do I mention that?

🤔

Oh, and btw did JM and JK exchange their swimming trunks here? Either they did or they each got 2 pairs to start with (I'm going with option 1).

There was much more fun going on in that pool, much of which we didn't get to see. A lot of it just the two of them with their shenanigans and Tae being a spectator and some with Tae playing the games with them as well. Tae leaves the pool with the two still in it, we don't know if they stayed and for how long as that's when the editors decide we've seen enough pool play for one episode, lol.

Out of the pool

This is the JK payback part of things, lol.

See, JM needs to be punished for being such a tease.

JK locking JM out. making sure he locks every single door.

The playfulness.

The cheekiness.

For instance, what was this?

Was JM saying something? Mouthing something? Or was that him trying to flirt his way in?

And that wink.

And let's talk about this:

The 5412.

I really wasn't going to talk about it, but seeing that I've had a couple of asks about it, I'll sum it up in a couple of words.

I'll start by saying that I don't speak Korean, nor do I have knowledge of Korean slang. And as such all I can do is rely on others translations.

There are a couple of versions as to what it meant.

JM clearly signed 5412. There is no confusion there.

The question is what does it mean, or what did JM mean by it in the context of the situation?

Of course I've seen the "I love you" explanation. But other than the original account posting this explanation, not only have I not seen corroboration to it, but mostly other accounts either outright contradict it or just give another possible explanation.

Like this one:

And this is basically the same:

I can only assume that if indeed JM was saying "I love you" that the K-JKKs would be going wild (in their own cryptic way of course), which they aren't. Well, not about the 5412 thing in any case. So, I will be playing it safe here and going with it either being a way to signal JK to open the door or some other message that is for them to know and us to not.

But those two and their sus behaviour were enough to drive us wild anyway.

Back in the house

Towel battle.

And yes, JK supposedly started this.

But did he?

And I ask that because of this here:

Did you see it?

That was the full scene.

So I will tell you the 2 things I see here.

This is the 1st:

Look carefully.

JM is hitting JK's back.

When you watch the original with the sound you can literally hear the smack on JK's skin.

OMG < the abused becomes the abuser>

Bull bloody crap.

This is them being their own playful self, JM's response to being locked out by his naughty bf.

So yeah, maybe JK was the first to throw in the towel, or more so to throw the towel at JM, but he definitely was not the first to smack. And low and behold, he doesn't flinch from that smack.

And then there is this too:

JM looking JK over with intent, hands lifting towards JK and.... cut!!

Again they deprive us.

Going from JK drying himself to JK's towel suddenly all rolled up and ready to strike.

And then the 'battle' begins.

It amazes me time and time again how those two manage to find joy in just about anything, even supposedly mundane moments. Calm joy, just sitting there with each other. Chaotic joy, with their playfulness and outright chaos and mischief.

JM the trickster, lol.

And what do we make of JM commanding "STAY" to JK ?

I think I'll leave you with that. Food for thought.

I will just say one thing before I go:

People need to stop looking at them like cardboard cutouts. These are two complex human beings. Fully grown adults. Young adults, but still adults. And they are both of strong character. They know what they want and who they want. And they know how to express themselves and stand up for what they want. Even more so with each other. Those two know each other through and through. Anyone that thinks they have the right to insert themselves into those two's relationship and call out one of them for their behavior with the other need to just go...

Away...

Maybe get a life...

Maybe touch some grass...

Maybe just piss off.

Whichever it is, they need to leave these two alone. Because they can scream blue murder as much as they want, at the end of the day these two will choose each other over anything and anyone.

And let me say that once more with feeling:

They CHOSE and will keep on CHOOSING each other.

[borzoilover69]

Jake Writing Guide : 2024 Colourised!

Ok well, this isn't the prime year 2014 but I really wanted to make a concise and easy to consume guide for how to write Jake accurately since he can be quite the fussy tosspot if you dont know where to start. [ WARNING ITS A BIT LONG I INCLUDE JAKE DIALOGUE TO HELP WITH UNDERSTANDING WHAT IM SAYING. ] First off: drop the commas, and the apostrophes. He uses largely run-on sentences and has a sort of rambly sense of words. He does however use "these" every now and then and just as it strikes him tends to *Drag out the ole roleplayisms.* when it suits the situation.

Jake doesn't really tend to use old-timey slang but he does have rather antiquated ways of speaking, with a pension for more articulated language. He only REALLY breaks out the old timey words when particularly impressed or exasperated for emphasis. Usually, these words are british slang.

Note how he goes on a ramble that is slightly self-centred. He also spins stories similiar to how Dirk does, but without the ice-cold deal. Tossing in his own spin with his own words.

This one is just really fucking funny.

When hes particularly exasperated he leans into it MORE. Just really spreads it on thick. Like if he continues to say funny words you'll forget everything else and be distracted by his whimsy.

Jake is FAR more socially aware than people give him credit for but prefers to avoid tricky subjects hes not too comfortable with until he feels suitably ready for it, prefers battles he knows he can win so to speak. He also tends to think hes overthinking it and backtrack into ignorance. He overcomplicates things same as dirk does but rather than doing Dirks "yup thats a me problem. Im going to quietly stress about it now!", jake brushes it under the rug and tries not to think about it like a college student trying not to think about their outstanding academic paper and the promise of "Yeah, I'll do it later" (doesn't)

Note his more genuine understanding of why Dirk functions the way he does, well aware of the pros AND cons of having something like a combat machine hunting him.

His awareness of Janes crush and reluctance to deal with it:

Subsequent backtracking and denial of said premonitions, brushing it under the rug. Again, stating his reluctance to get into it because it's a situation he's not wellversed. Jake doesn't like being put into unpredictable situations, he prefers the easy road that won't inconvenience him much.

Also his desire to be seen as seemingly perfect and not have to dwell on others intents. Now this is something I don't see touched on as MUCH on writing guides for Jake English (then again the majority were made in 2014 so who can blame them.) But when Jake touches on what he views as MORE TABOO feelings aka ones which compromise the go-getter Adventurer image that arent BRAVE and GUSTO and GUNS, such as weakness, hesitation, he tends to pose back to the asking party as a question and reconsider his thought process. Like: Do YOU think its ok for me to feel this way? Why do you think that? Could you imagine me thinking something like that? He cares a LOT about his image and whats acceptable for him to be and to mask his difficulty in some social situations.

He doesn't like acknowledging that which might be sort of difficult for him to come to terms with, with the ye olde character trait of repression that him and John share, believing if he keeps his feelings buttoned up, they don't need to feel embarassed (aka: avoidance)

Hes also a fair bit more snarkier than fanon gives him hooks for. His subconscious takes the form of his best friend, but its commented as being “like hal, in terms of snarks”. Jake can also be the snarky customer to Dirk AND Hal, and Caliborn too. He's a gentleman to ladies (TO A DEGREE) but with guys he's not afraid to be more cutting with it. I am begging you on your hands and knees to drop the woobified jake english and make him slightly snarky and a bit offputting and weird. Jake grew up in the middle of a jungle and burned his grandmother.

Also he seems to be slightly aware of outside forces, note him calling attention to the fact he knows things he shouldn't canonically even be able to know.

Because Jake IS a little freak. He thinks corpse puppetry is funny. He punches what he thinks is fish hitler while ranting about movies. Hes funny as fuck. Hello.

However, with all of THAT out of the way, lets focus on some of the more ABRASIVE parts of his personality. While Jake is funnily charming with his old lingo and tendency to ramble, he has issues! One HUGE one is reluctance to fully FACE things he doesnt feel he has a full grasp on. He DOESNT like going out of his comfort zone, he DOESNT like talking about his emotions to people he really cares about or thinks has fallen for his manic dreamboat pixie persona, He's well aware people fall for it. He works hard to make sure people DO. But it sort of restricts him to that persona, he can't grow from it as long as he holds onto the idea that this persona hes chasing is the only way he can BE without being vulnerable.

Jake can be OVERBEARING, and not just that, painfully unaware when he's up his own ass! This critic he gives to Dirk applies to himself! The reason why he doesn't like brainghost dirk is because GOD forbid the man self-reflect juuust a little and find something that upsets him. Nope! Not going to deal with it. Just as quickly as he is to switch the thought that everyone loves him, he is just as likely to switch to think that everyone doesnt.

Anyways, I think thats all I have to say, Jakes words speak a LOT about his character, and I genuinely love him a lot. He has some words i think about a lot and hes genuinely such an awesome guy. I'll let a few choice pieces of dialogue from Jake himself close this out for me.

This was one of the last conversations we see with him. And I still think about his words a lot.

I'll probably edit this when I get the energy. But I think i covered most of it. Happy writing!

[cripplecharacters]

I am writing a story which includes a Deaf character. She is mostly included via text. As the main character is long distance, autistic and nonverbal. So most of their communication up until the point they meet, is text messages. When they meet, both characters use auslan to communicate.

But for the text, how could / would the Deaf character type? Like auslan translated to words directly, something like 'help I want'. Or more traditional English, like 'I want help'. Or a mixture of auslan syntax and English. Or something else.

Thanks. Oh and I am not Deaf myself. I know some auslan and am learning some more. But I am autistic and nonverbal. If any of that is important to your response.

Hi!

My answer is, it depends.

Someone who grew up with auslan as a first language and little exposure to spoken or written English is more likely to type with auslan grammar than someone who grew up speaking.

Some who grow up in Deaf households will specifically learn written English grammar as a second language from a young age. A character like this will likely type in spoken English grammar. (They may still find auslan grammar more natural!)

A character who grew up deaf but language deprived and non-speaking, who then learned sign language at an older age but still as their first or only language, would likely use auslan grammar.

A character whose first or only language is sign will likely feel most comfortable signing, even to chat. It's honestly very frustrating how long some words are when they take just a second to sign. There are plenty of ways to just send a video rather than text messaging!

I would say from my experience with Deaf people of different backgrounds, here are some common grammar markers in writing:

Spelling errors.

When fingerspelling, the first and last letters along with the general shape of the word are more important than every letter in the correct order. Same ends up happening with written words.

There's also sometimes a difficulty remembering names. Personally I remember name signs very easily (helps that they often relate to a person's appearance or personality!) but actually remembering the person's written name? Very hard!

Plurality and verb tense.

[Note: the following examples are true of ASL and I'm fairly certain auslan as well, but I don't know if they're true in every sign language.]

"I want" is signed similar to "he wants" (only difference is pronoun), and "car" is the same sign as "cars" (clarify plurality through context and descriptors).

In written English it can be a struggle to pick the correct form of a word when they're all the same in sign language!

A character who grew up in an oral environment would likely struggle less with this, though it depends on their exposure to written language.

Slang/Translation.

There aren't good translations for a lot of signs, especially slang. It may be difficult to put those into words.

Reactions especially--like how hearing people say "mhm", there are Deaf equivalents, but they can be hard to represent textually.

Another translation problem is when the sign and the written equivalent don't quite match up. For example the ASL sign "for" can be used in the question "for-for?" which is best translated as "for what?" or "what for?" but will often be written out as "for for?" because that is literally the sign.

To recap: it depends on your character's background what grammar they will use, but if they're a native signer, "perfect" English grammar isn't super likely. Of course there are exceptions to everything I've written, these are just some patterns I've observed :) [smile face]

Mod Rock

[arinzu]

My Headcannons for bllk characters💋

Part 1 l part 2

Shidou, Sae and Kaiser

💗💗💗

🪳Ryusei Shidou🪳

✿His favorite painting he made was sperm cells swimming towards the egg cells.

✿Middle Child vibes, has a older sister and a gen alpha brother.

✿Was once very emo

✿Makes traditional Japanese painting and donates to the art club since he thinks their chill asf

✿Learned how to do makeup from a website that has too much virus.

✿Very chill outside the field

✿Likes traumatizing children, once a kid came to him and ask 'how babies were made', that kid was his brother.

✿Knows almost every gen alpha or gen z slang known to man.

✿I genuinely think (even if this is canon) he has a room dedicated to sae's passes to him at the u20 vs bl11

Boyfriend Headcannons🪳

♡Your display name on his phone is my pookiebear💗, Cockroach junior🪳, My babagrill💕.

♡Paints you and him kissing under the moon om a bridge.

♡Call him my one and only demon and he'll go feral or just wear he's jersey.

♡If anyone is making you uncomfortable he'll buy a bat and swing that bitch like no tomorrow.

♡Writes a cheesy love poem and reads it out loud to the bllk CCTV that is broadcasting live.

♡If you guys cuddle he'll kiss your collarbone or forehead if you're not ready.

♡Once wore a fairy costume with you for Halloween.

♡Doesn't get why you're insecure about your body, in his eyes you're divine, your perfect and he is lucky to have you by his side.

♡You thought he was into sae until he confess his love to you in the weirdest way possible (he said be my egg cell to my sperm BLA BLA BLA...)

♡Always tries to make you feel love even if it's weird, just know that he loves you no matter what happens

Sae itoshi💋

✿Gives judgemental stares/side eyes to his questionable fans, it's bcuz y'alls Kinda weird...(Some y'all gotta go)

✿He isn't a massive tsundere he's just stoic like that.

✿He got traumatized(prob not)by seeing one of his questionable fans made of him and shidou (hint it was a fanfic)

✿Owns a few Spanish and English dictionary and regularly reads it.

✿Still has a photo of him and Rin somewhere in his place.

✿Has a big ahh tv in one of his rooms to watch horror movies if he had any free time to spare.

✿Almost flip off Luna when they were practicing on more than one occasion.

✿On his childhood he found a stray cat and fell in love with it, sadly he never saw that cat again after he was famous.

✿Wants to file a restraining order against some of his fans, didn't because of his manager.

✿Goes to the internet only for browsing for fights.(he uses a anonymous acc)

Boyfriend Headcannons.

♡Isnt possessive nor protective since your an adult with your own life, and since he knows that everyone knows your his and his yours.

♡Blow him a kiss or any sort of affection to him when he's entering the field, he doesn't want he NEEDS it.

♡If any of his fans are harassing you don't worry since he got bodyguards surrounding you.

♡He loves you deeply and if the media questions that he'll have no problem with clearing up the confusion.

♡Beach dates!

♡Even he might not look like it, he loves your affection, it clings to him like a bug so show him affection.

♡Please do wear his jersey or any of his merch... He wants everyone to know that your his lover.

♡If you cheat on him he'll cut you in half (totally not from who would you choose? Check it btw it's in one of the endings)

♡Cuddle with him, spend some quality time, or just watch his matches he will be so happy.

♡He might not be the best lover you'll have but he'll be the richest one you'll ever have.

Micheal kaiser💠

Half of these are angst and most importantly from his childhood🙂

✿He isn't actually as cocky as most of his teammates think he is, his just hiding that pathetic boy in him so people wouldn't try to use him.

✿Doesn't want to go to therapy since he'll lose out on training that might end up in him going to jail.

✿Hated those kainess shippers on the bllk tv.

✿At one point, somewhere he actually liked ness not romantically but liked as a human, that quickly change.

✿Loves stray animals he often tries to feed them food.

✿Still keeps the blue rose gifted from his mother, it's sacred something he would never give to someone else.

✿When he's about to sleep he has the sudden urge to piss.

✿Has a notebook to talk shit about people.

✿Gets awfully quiet near a store he had stolen from.

✿Vibes with any music genre unless it's about abuse.

Boyfriend Headcannons.

♡Spoils you rotten and buys you expensive things especially with things he wanted as a child.

♡Gets really mad if you gonna ask him when can you meet his family, it's before he told you his past.

♡Whenever he remembers the past he'll snuggle with you until he falls asleep hugging your waist.

♡I REPEAT THIS AGAIN wear his merch, jersey, and buy his plushies he loves to see you with them.

♡If you give his merchandise too much attention, he'll have no choice but to hide them (time to time destroy it)

♡He thinks your the angel that save him from that horrible nightmate.

♡Is probably using you to stop the nightmares.

♡You and his teammates have a somewhat civil relationship, but with ness he actually adores you.

♡Makes you and him matching bracelets or any type of accessories.

♡If you're a questionable fan, he'll give you the side eye once or twice a day.

That's it y'all I totally didn't upload this by accident on more than one occasion.... BUT FORGET THE ANGST AT KAISER

TYSM for reading!

[the-ace-with-spades]

From the just hold my hand scenes that (probably) won't be written

Ice can't talk, he hasn't been able to for a while, not long after the diagnosis even, but since his last surgery, he knows he will never be able to again.

He and Mav learned sign language as soon as this became a possibility — they attended lessons together, sometimes online, and they practiced with each other, until they became fluent enough to communicate daily using sign. It became faster than Ice writing whatever he wanted to say and so it became primarily how they talk if it's just the two of them — by the time Bradley enters their life again and brings in a whole new husband and four (and counting) kids into it, they use sign language every day casually.

Bradley and Jake's middle daughter, Ronnie — Ice is her favorite, has been since the day they've met. Mostly due to his calm and soothing demeanor and just the aura of safety he has to him, but also because she's a quiet kid who doesn't talk much — she has a bit of a speech development problem that isn't too worrying at her age but has to have an eye kept on it — and often gets buried under the hyperactivity of her older sisters who talk a mile a minute or under her baby brother who craves attention and often gets it because he's cute as a button when he's clingy. But Ice always took the time to pay attention to her even if she was quiet or if she was not doing anything, even if it was just sitting next to her or holding her or basically looking at her expecting her to show him what she was doing or what she liked. People outside of her basic family (her parents and her memaw) rarely get her as much as he does.

So she's maybe a little clingy about Ice.

And you know, when it kind of settles that Mav and Ice are going to be in their life, Bradley promised himself he'd at least try to learn sign. He's terrible at it, he's always been not that good at languages and despite having the finger flexibility that a lot of learners struggle with, he just doesn't have the muscle memory that lets him have a smooth learning.

When Ronnie sees him practicing at home and asks why he looks like grandpa Mav when he talks to grandpa Ice and he explains that it's how Ice speaks (which Ronnie never thought about because she's a kid and she thought grandpa Mav could just understand Ice so well without speaking out loud because he loves him so much, the same way her parents did with her), she gets obsessed.

Next time Bradley takes the kids for some playtime with their grandpas (while Jake and Bradley have some me-time together...), Ronnie gets all shy when Bradley says the well-known phrase of, "Go say hi to your grandpa," and she signs to Ice.

It's just a little clumsy "Hello, grandpa," the simple wave of a hand looks a bit too much like a salute and maybe she adds a third tiny arch as the sign for grandpa finishes but Ice gets it and it gets everyone — especially Ice — a little teary-eyed as well.

[Also, sign language often has the same kind of insider linguistic slang families have when using spoken languages (you know, your sister once calls the terrace door windwoor when she's five and your whole family still calls it that even though she has kids of her own and a corpo job now... this but with hand signs) and I love the idea of Ice encouraging her to make those mistakes and then having them become only their inside vocabulary that no one else gets]

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 8

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

Monday Morning

Kiyana walked into work that morning feeling like shit was going to hit the fan. Her date with Eli was… wonderful.. It took a while for her embarrassment to go away from Josh showing up and showing his ass but after getting over that they had a great time. If she was being honest, she could see herself settinging down again with him. She had a soft smile on her face as she walked over to the nurses station after checking in on a patient. 

Kiyana jumped as Debra plopped down on the chair next to her. “Spill the tea, tell me everything.” Kiyana laughed at her use of slang that she definitely learned from one of her grandchildren.  Kiyana smirked and contented to chart, laughing when Debra reached over and turned off the computer monitor. 

“Debra!.” She chortled, turning her chair to she was facing Debra who flagged her off.

“It was only the monitor, your work is good.” Debra rolled her eyes. “Spill!” Kiyana rolled her eyes aswell before telling Debra all about her and Eli’s date, minus her ex-husband showing up, she did not want to relive that, at all.  

Kiyana told Debra all about her evening with Elijah, how he took her to The Grand Marlin, how they took a nice stroll on the beach after dinner and when Kiyana told Debra that she and Elijah had gone back to his place, Debra’s eyes were as wide as saucers. 

“Wait, stop” Debra whispered, leaning in closer to Kiyana so none of the other nurses could hear what they were saying. “You guys didn’t… you know.” Kiyana bit her lip before she responded to Debra. 

“No, I mean we didn’t go all the way, if you know what I mean.” Debra’s eyes were still wide but there was now a smirk on her face. 

“Oh, I'm catching what you’re throwing.” she responded, making Kiyana laugh. “Was it good, better yet, was it better than your ex-husband?” 

“Oh my god, Debra!” Kiyana mutters as she placed her head in her hands, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment.  Debra stared at Kiyana as she awaited her answer. “Oh my god” Kiyana muttered again “it was good, but no, nowhere as close.” 

“Sorry to interrupt ya’ll.” One of the new nurses Arin, spoke up as she hung up the phone. “But we have a new patient coming into room 302. EMT’s said her contractions are 8 minutes apart, but she still wants to be admitted.” Kiyana nodded and stood from her seat to go get the patient’s room ready.

“We’re not done talking Nurse Jackson.” Debra called out after her and Kiyana made a yeah-yeah motion with her hand before walking away. Just as Kiyana finished putting a new sheet on the patient’s bed, the expected mother-to-be was rolled into the room. 

“Hi, I’m Kiyana. I'll be your nurse today.” She says as she walks over and helps the patient into the bed. 

“Nice to meet you.” The patient says, wincing in pain as another contraction hits her. Kiyana offers her hand so the patient could squeeze it. “Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.” Kiyana smiles, “I’ve been in your position four times, I know them contractions hurt. Can I get your name and date of birth?”

“Alexis Daniels.”

'What a small world, Daniels isn't really a common last name.' Kiyana thinks as she logs into the computer to chart Alexis’ vitals.

“December 15th 1989” 

“Perfect, and what is baby boy's name?” 

“Me and my husband still haven’t fully agreed on a name yet, but I like the name Carter.” 

“That is such a cute name. It was my top choice for my youngest as well, but me and my - we went with Kairo.” Kiyana said, smiling at Alexis as she chided herself in her head for almost getting too personal with the patient, not everybody needed to know she was a divorced mother. “I can still put Carter in the chart or we can just call him baby Daniels until you and your husband come up with a name.” 

“Baby Daniels, is perfect. This is our third child but first boy and he really wants to be a part of the naming decision.” Alexis breathed out as another contraction hit her, she then cursed and threw her phone down next to her. “Speaking of husband, can you do me a huge favor.?” 

Kiyana stopped typing and turned her attention to Alexis. “Sure, anything you need.” 

Alexis smiles. “My husband actually works in this hospital, he’s a surgeon on the trauma floor. Do you think you can page him for me? He’s not answering his phone.” Alexis says, holding up her phone and Kiyana felt her stomach twist at Alexis’ words. 'Just a coincidence,' Kiyana thought. 'Just because her last name is Daniels doesn’t mean shit.'

“Mmhm, keep telling yourself that.” That other voice called out, making Kiyana frown. 

“Sure, I can.” She finally responded, plastering a smile on her face. “What’s his name?” 

“Elijah Daniels.”  Kiyana digs her fingernails into her thigh to stop herself from cursing. She was hurt. She felt sick to her stomach as she thought about what she and Eli did last night. 

“Shit, you got such a pretty pussy ma’” Elijah breathed out as he used his index and middle finger to spread her lips and suck her clit into his mouth. Kiyana moaned, lifting her hand to his head before frowning when she realized there was nothing there for her to grab on to. That thought quickly leaves her head as he thrust two of his fingers in her

She felt betrayed and played. Then she started to feel sick to her stomach. ‘Oh my god,’ She thought ‘I'm no better than that woman Josh was sleeping with.’ 

“Kiyana, are you okay?” Kiyana snapped out of her flashback, her voice shaking with anger as she responded back to Alexis 

“I’m fine. I’m gonna go page your husband for you.” Kiyana turns her back to Alexis and storms to the nurses station, snatching the phone off the hook she - as calmly as she could - pages Elijah to the labor & delivery floor. 

“Dr. Elijah Daniels to labor & deliver, Dr. Elijah Daniels to labor & delivery.” Debra arches an eyebrow at Kiyana. 

“You missed him that bad?” She jokes, laughing then stops as she feels the anger radiating off of Kiyana. “Sweetly what happened?” 

“That asshole is married with children! His wife is the patient in 302.” Debra’s jaw dropped open. “I feel so freaking stupid.” She hissed out just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing a cheerful Elijah who was smiling brightly as he made his way towards Kiyana. 

“I knew that was you, are you okay? Is everything good?.” He smiled, and Kiyana struggled to maintain her composure, because at that moment, all she wanted to do was to smack that smile off his damn face. The more she looked at him, the angrier she got. 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Your wife is in room 302 waiting to deliver your third child.” She felt a sick satisfaction flow through her as the smile slowly left his face. Debra quickly decided to leave them alone, deciding it was time to go check on her patient. 

“Wait, I can explain.” Kiyana held her hand up, cutting him off. 

“I don’t wanna hear shit you have to say to me Elijah. Think about how your wife will feel once she finds -'' Elijah gripped her arm and pulled her down the hall, away from the nurses station. 

“She aint finding shit out, Kiyana. What I do ain’t none of her damn business.” When she tried to pull her arm away, he gripped it tighter, “You don’t know what I'm capable of Kiyana. You’re gonna go back in that damn room and help my wife through her discomfort and when the time comes, help deliver our child okay?!” He sneered at her, when she didn’t respond he squeezed her arm until she cried out in pain. 

“Ow! Stop. Okay! Okay!” She cried out in pain, feeling her tears sting her eyes. Elijah let go of her arm and straightened out his lab coat. 

“I’m gonna go check on my wife. I’ll see you later.” He brushed past her, leaving her rubbing her arm, where she knew she would be bruised, pulling his wedding ring out of the pocket and sliding it onto his finger. 

🙃🫣

i'm gonna go into hiding now

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[short-honey-badger]

Helo I was wondering if you could fo Law x reader with the reader having an heart disease,so like breathing problems and possibly heart attack? With cpr

Thanks in advance

I couldn’t find your rules

*I hope I did your ask justice! I'm not very well versed in medical slang, but I did some light reading and tried my best!❤️*

Law liked to keep you by his side. Mostly because he enjoyed the company of his partner, but also so that he could keep a close eye on you. They'd joined his crew a year ago, and it was two months later that he learns that you have a heart condition. Every now and then, your heartbeat would change pace, either too fast or too slow.

It'd scared the hell out of your captain the first time you'd gone down, seemingly fine one second, and then swaying on your feet the next, hitting the deck before he could catch you. Law had scooped you up and booked it to his office, and then activated his devil fruit to find the heart of the problem.

You'd woken up halfway through his examination, eyes wide as you watched your new captain study your heart in his hands. He watched the organ jump in his hand and begin to beat at an irregular pattern. Law had turned on you and pointed at the heart cradled delicately in his hands.

"You have a condition called arrhythmia. You'll have to stay close to me from now on so that I can keep an eye on you. If your heart isn't pumping your blood correctly, it can lead to you passing out," He glared at you over that and then continued.

"Lack of oxygen is cause for CPR, and in worse cases, it can lead to a heart attack. I like you, _. So I'll take care of you."

The only thing you could do that day was give a teary nod. You knew that something had been wrong, but nothing that serious. From then on, you rarely left Trafalgar's side, and with that closeness came a budding relationship.

So it terrified Law any time he saw a change in your behavior. You've been lethargic all day but unwilling to rest. You assured him that you could continue your duties, and foolishly, Law had believed you. Two hours later, the doctor heard and thud and turned in his desk chair to see you on the floor.

Trafalgar dove out of his chair and press his fingers to the side of your neck. Your pulse was weak, but there. He cursed quietly and fisted his, keeping his palm just below your sternum and shifts to his knees. Law counts out loud.

"One, two, three..."

Before pausing in his compressions and dipping to pinch your nose and blow into your mouth. He does this three times before he rises and goes back to counting.

It takes longer than Law likes for you to finally come to, coughing harshly, and sitting up with a raspy gasp. Law helps you sit up, moving to sit behind your back so that you can rest against him. He rubs your back, and quiet reassurances fall from his lips.

"That's it, baby. I've got you."

You gladly let your boyfriend take your weight and try to regulate your breathing, "Sorry, Law. Guess I should have listened to my doctor, huh?"

Trafalgar huffs behind you and bends to press a kiss to the top of your head, "We do know a thing or two."

[xerotiny]

╋━ SO IT GOES [Chapter One]

Chapter One

Stranger on the Dance Floor.

Note: reader has a name and isn't simply written as [y/n]. there are no specific warnings, except for the ones already mentioned before, smut warnings will be given for chapters containing smut.

Word count: 4,716

Taglist: @yunlazia @kyeos4ng @playboygeniusphilanthropist

          You stand in front of the mirror, vulnerable to your reflection; squinting your eyes closely against the surface, finding your flaws, searching for the imperfections which are so see-through. There has to be something wrong with you. There had to be. Notions of flaws created waves of overthinking in your mind; the more you sailed in the sea of darkness, the more your ship rocked, the crashing cold waves threatening for your ship to capsize and sink. Like a derogatory slang stuck in your head, your husband's words give you a dreadful whiplash. You shouldn't be so focused on what he said. Yet, his words ring louder in your ears and coerce a demented speculation about him every time you think about it.

Hubby ♥️ ⛰️ Can't wait to see you in that black teddy Remember to wear the matching garters too They suit you

[Delivered 8:34 pm] [Read 9:08 pm]

You hold your phone in your hand, bright screen flashing the black letters etched on it. Shifting your eyes between the mirror, your reflection and your husband's texts, an unruly surge of insecurities courses through your mind. Maybe he didn't mean the words he said before. Maybe this is his way of apologising to you. Maybe you should stop overreacting and start loving him for once. Every "maybe" had a different effect on you, growing heavy on your well-constructed conscience and dwindling it down to the ground. Regardless of the poorly circuited responses of your brain, you know you'd cave in the moment you watch him walk in through the front door. You'd cave the moment he asks for a freshly brewed tea, his favourite drink to have after work. You're weak for him. And your weakness, he holds in the palm of his hand. Like a puppet on a string.

Countless moments have riled up an insatiable rage in your heart, but even those meagre seconds of anger have dissipated to minutes of hollow apologies and empty promises. In this house, arguments have a way of solving themselves; apologies came to you in the form of kisses from your husband. He tried. But his words would push further to your edge. In the end, he resorted to using his charm on you. Seduction, if you will.

You bite down on your lip, contemplating texting him back. You were already dressed in that black teddy; alongside the garters he had told you not to forget about. All dolled up, standing in the bathroom adjoining your master bedroom, staring at your reflection in the body mirror; that was your night. You tug at the ends of your silk robe, tying the loose ends together to cover your body. The longer you stared, the more insecure you got.

Huffing a breath, you text him back as you're sauntering out of the bathroom.

You I'm all dressed already. Come back soon Will be waiting for you in our bedroom. ;)

[Delivered 9:15] [Read 9:15]

Oh no, that makes your anxiety bubble up.

Hubby ♥️⛰️ Hey darling Small problem There's a minor holdup at work today

[Delivered 9:16] [Read 9:16]

You What's wrong now?

[Delivered 9:17] [Read 9:17]

The bubbles on his side appear and disappear, reappear and disappear—the cycle continues for a few seconds until your phone starts ringing in your hand. He's calling you. Without wasting a beat of your time, you answer and press your phone to your ear.

"What is it this time?" you deadpan, only to hear your husband click his tongue, "darling, I'm sorry. I wanted this night to be perfect as much as you did."

"That's not my question," you groan, "what's the holdup?"

"Shipment issues," he states, "my employees have been at it since the last hour. I wouldn't be making a good impression on them if I choose to leave them alone to deal with this. I'm their boss."

"And maybe, for once, you should use that to your benefit?" you suggest quite spitefully, after his word had left a bitter taste on your tongue. "It's fine, San. I wasn't expecting much from you anyway. After that ugly blowup in the morning, I hadn't pinned my hopes on anything."

You hear him suck in a deep breath. "Baby, please. I'll be back before you know it." he has a certain lilt to his voice, "it won't take much time, I promise."

"Fine," you grumble from your chest, the disappointment fleeting tears in your eyes. "Take care." Before he could say anything, you hang up the call and set your phone down on your dresser.

Trying to hold your emotions together, a stray tear streams down your cheek regardless. The sullen details from the morning come rushing back to you, reeling you down in the deep dark waters of aversion and despair. It's not the why you were disappointed with your husband, it was the way you had seemingly left your words unsaid, following the little altercation you had with him.

As any other day, your morning took off with lazy kisses and warm hugs from your husband. The warmth of his embrace is unparalleled to anything, even the fiercest of fires couldn't compare. There were times where you'd catch yourself wondering if these moments were all just in your mind, if you were supposedly seeking your happiness in these deluded instances. These thoughts don't come and go naturally, they adhere to your heart and soul, altering your morals and beliefs.

Was today one of those days?

Unfair quarrels influence more passive-aggressiveness from both of you. If today's dispute was anything like the ones you've had in past, then maybe, San has every reason to lie to you. What happened in the morning, wasn't just a simple mistake—a deliberate attempt to hide his emerald traces. After all, an intricate piece of silver and emerald had struck a match to light the fire between you.

San is see-through, pretty transparent with his intentions and his heart. So, when you found a piece of jewellery in his coat's pocket, you knew something was up. It didn't belong to you. You didn't like emeralds. And even so, San knows you like the back of his hand; he'd never get you anything short of diamond or platinum. Suspicions rise above all loyalty; above all years you've been with him—it is a detrimental thing.

One thing led to another, and before you know, you were both going at it. Both defending your loyalty, both striving to validate yourself. Anger, frustration, doubt, these are momentary responses; all of it simmers down to guilt in the end. You were regretting bringing it up, regretting ever questioning his character over your sense of doubt. And he? San felt the same, he voiced his truth.

However, you didn't believe him. His story was so well spun and weaved in with his mistakes, that you had no idea how to comprehend your own thoughts over it. He left no room for doubt. He could be a storyteller, if he wanted to.

Reality does break you apart, stringing you along the sound of your phone buzzing on your dresser. There it was the group chat spam. Ten years of knowing them, and yet you never learn to silence your group chat. You peer at the bright screen, reading the notifications as they cascaded down your lock screen one by one.

'Boohoo, she's become such a killjoy.'

'I hope she's enjoying herself :('

'Marriage really does suck the life out of people.'

'Yes, we have quite a few living examples amongst us.'

And they continued on, bashing your married life and your husband, and it only got worse from then. You heave out a sigh and roll your eyes, deciding to ignore them for the time being. Running a hand through your hair, you tie it in a low bun and tease out a few strands in front to frame your face. You proceed to take off the lip-stain from your lips and the subtle highlight on your eyelids. Disappointed still, you leave your shared bedroom and saunter downstairs to the kitchen; your throat suddenly pleading you for a drink.

The kitchen lights were turned on. You could make out light shuffles coming from there. Anyone else would be alarmed, but not you, considering it was someone you knew quite well. So, the moment you step up to the counter separating the dining space and the kitchen, you can't help but let your lips twitch to a smile.

"Second dinner?" you remark with a small grin, teasing the black-haired man slouched over the kitchen island while preparing himself a sandwich—of sorts.

He clicks his tongue. "A post-dinner snack, if you will." he raises his head up, smiling softly in your direction; when he stares at you for a minute longer than he had intended to, he rolls his eyes and scoffs playfully, "relax, I was going to leave you two alone after this."

"I don't recall myself making any assumptions but okay," you mutter, folding your arms over your chest. "Your brother isn't getting back home any sooner."

"Of course, he's the devil of his will." The said man chuckles and shakes his head, taking his eyes off you. He slaps a slice of cheese on the bread, and hums, "so, what did my asshole of a brother do now to disappoint you?"

"I'm not disappointed." You clear your throat and sit down on the stool in front of the counter, keeping your attention on him. "What gave you that idea?"

"A beautiful woman, such as you, are dressed in her finest of lingerie, made some efforts to put on her makeup and even with all her stunning grace, she wears disappointment on the tip of her nose like a pretty piece of jewel." He peers up at you, "lie to someone else. My brother for that matter. But don't lie to me, Ye-rin."

You're rendered speechless by his observation and honestly, you'd rather not ruin it further by whining and feigning ignorance about this situation.

"You could retort and still stick to defending yourself," he shrugs and picks up the made sandwich on a plate. "Or you can—you can live in the little freedom you have for the night. The choice is yours."

"What are you talking about, Jongho?" you scoff, "well, yeah. I'm not going to lie to myself and try to stay deluded about this situation. Yes, I'm disappointed. I'm really mad at your brother for getting me all warmed up and then leaving me dry." Taking a deep breath, you look away and fix your gaze down on your trembling fingers. "But he doesn't have me trapped in a cage—I'm not wrapped around his finger as you suppose I am."

Jongho stays in the silence taking over, his eyes fixated to your anxious mannerisms and body language. He knows it all too well, he knows everything.

"I know you love my brother, a lot," he breaks the silence, "and so does he. I'm sure of it he does. But you're allowed to be a bit selfish in the relationship, Ye-rin. It's not the end of the world if you do."

He makes his way over to you and sets the plate down on the counter, in front of you.

"Eat up," he states, "eat this, get dressed and go to wherever your friends wanted to drag you tonight."

You raise your head up to stare at him, dumbfounded and completely caught off guard. "What?"

"The night-out your friends were talking about?" he bites his tongue and scratches the back of his neck, "I overheard you talking to your friends earlier in the evening. You should go."

"First of all, you were lurking around my room?" you gasp, questioning him, "second, will San be okay with—okay, okay...I'll go." You correct yourself the moment he glares at you.

"If you don't feel like staying for long, give me a call," he shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'll come pick you up right away."

"Jongho, I—"

"—I'll come pick you up." He interrupts you with a grunt, "stay with your friends for an hour or so and forget about what happened in the morning, drink, dance, or whatever that is you do. I know you'll be in your limits, so I will not say anything more." The frown on his lips, twitches to a soft smile. "Just have some fun for a night. Don't think about my stupid brother, okay?"

You nod your head, used to him saying stuff like that all the time. "Okay, fine! You win. I'll go but you better come pick me up the second I ring your phone."

"Relax, gee. I am aware clubs and pubs aren't really your scene," he rolls his eyes, huffing out. "It's alright. Give me a call and I'll be there. Just make sure you don't get yourself drunk. I'm not sure if I'm fit to handle an inebriated Ye-rin."

"What makes you say that?" you scoff, clearly taken back by his judgement of your drinking capabilities.

"From the stories I've heard from your friends, not about you perse, I'm sure they would try to get you drunk and..." he trails off as if to indicate something; some unsaid thoughts which click quite quickly in your head. "That's why you're eating that." He points at the sandwich, now in your hand. "It'll absorb most of the alcohol and you won't be—yeah, maybe a little tipsy, but not pissed drunk."

He shrugs lightly and retorts to your parted lips, as if he had read your mind, "I'll make myself another one. Don't worry."

"Great." You grumble before taking a bite of the sandwich in your hand.

It was a so-so sandwich. A simple sandwich. Slice of ham and cheese between two untoasted pieces of bread. Usually, such things would satisfy you, but this time—you were left for craving more. Something spicy, something more than satisfactory.

             The night only dwelled on the darker inhibitions in your mind. Everything was fine until you left, until you parted ways with Jongho and the house you were supposedly waiting for your husband to come early to. Your friends picked you up on their way to the club, shared a couple of slurs against you on your mere involvement with them and cursed out your husband. At times like these, you'd like to think the girls were being supportive. They could never have ill thoughts about your husband, or your married life. Though, there were times where either of them would blurt out the most unhinged thing and pretend otherwise. Given such situations, you'd swallow down all your second thoughts and wear a facade of solitude. Because in the end, it was your "own" decision to marry San.

San was everything you wanted when you were a freshman in college; the first year of your undergrad was seemingly the talking phase for you two. You had decided to take things slow for the sake of maintaining a healthy balance between your studies and love life. To say San was more than understanding about your situation would be an understatement. At the beginning of your relationship, he had been the first to suggest taking it slow between two of you. And so, it went on for the first year, with countless date nights and weekends filled with picnics and staying in at his place.

Four magical years led up to the day when San had finally asked you the question and popped the ring on your finger. It was a pleasant year, the year after your graduation. Your career took an unanticipated turn that year however—marriage, one puzzling pregnancy scare and your changed perspective of life. Dedication to your husband somehow started nudging past all your other priorities; it wasn't an unnerving situation for you, you knew this would happen. Marrying the man, whom you always dreamt of spending your entire life with, was cherry on top when paired with your stable career. The one you'd thought of having before anything else. One pregnancy scare, and everything seemed bleak—it wasn't just a false positive, it was more than that. There's only so much you could do against the will of nature; if it didn't make you compatible to bear kids, then it didn't. It was a hard pill to swallow, that one. The hopes of ever becoming a mother and welcoming motherhood with your open arms, it was all crumbled into a heap of ash of your fiery desires.

It may not seem as unlikely, however, San had encouraged you countless times to restart your career. And he had been for the past eight years of your life with him. He had overlooked it so easily; he did show disappointment and regardless of the melancholy trapped in his heart, he didn't treat you different to how he had in your best of years. It was then when your mind had drowned in the deepest darkest oceans of woes and depression. An inkling which crawled under your skin and threatened to burst out into flames; were you ever good enough for San?

Just how in the morning, the ground beneath your feet was trembling with cracks, you were fighting the urge to bawl your eyes out. Neon splotches taint your skin in acrid hues as your hips sway lightly to the raving techno music. The dance floor reeks with sweat and sex, and the pungent concoction of everyone's perfumes and colognes. You wouldn't have permitted yourself to let loose until alcohol had somehow made its way into your bloodstream. You'd have to blame one of your girlfriends for forcing you to drink, coaxing you to do a shot before stumbling your way on the dance floor. In no hell would you have agreed to Hyunju's invitation to the dance floor if you were sober; now however, even with the stench of booze and sweat, with bodies clambering against each other, you were dancing to the arrhythmic music. Lightheaded in the beams of dimmed down lights, your half-lidded gaze lifts up to your best friend. Her face scrunches up lightly as her eye catches on the frown on your lips.

She takes a step close to you, synchronised with the beat of the thumping music, and screams in your ear. "You feeling okay?"

You nod your head and yell over the music, "I'm fine."

No sign of conviction graced her face, yet she let you do as you'd please. Dazed by the stammering lights, you continued to delve into your tipsy mind, as your body rocked to the deafening music. You've been here before, in this particular moment countless times before—the booze, the smell of perfumes and cologne, and the pumped-up adrenaline buzzing you to the loud music. It's all happened before. You were used to it all.

On the crowded dance floor, in the heat of sweaty bodies lurching together, you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist, pulling you back into a strong chest, exactly on the rhythm of the song. You gasped, oh louder than you could've ever perceived yourself. Glancing to the trace of his warmth skittering over your dress and waist, you almost gasp again at the sight of his hands. The twinkle on his finger was long forgotten as his lips caressed just lightly under your ear, just lightly. His hot breath fanned the nape of your neck, his hair tickling a side of your cheek as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. You stay frozen in your place, eyes wide, alcohol coursing out of your system to make you more alert.

A whimper parts your lips when you hear him mumble into your ear, his voice dulcet yet coarse, throaty even.

"If you keep this up," he trails off, his breath lingering on your ear, "I might end up breaking more than just your heart tonight."

This time, a hollowed gasp wrings out of your chest, causing the man behind you to heave a dainty chuckle. Your trembling thoughts conjecture a straightforward retort, regardless of how feeble you'd been rendered by his fluttering lips tracing out every little vein under the skin of your neck. You couldn't think for yourself, let alone for the little bit of confidence left in you.

Is this what Jongho warned you about?

Unfathomable movements under the pretence of lighthearted caper, which seem to only prolong the effect of incomprehension and confusion. And amid all, the overwhelming sense of shame crawls from the pit of your stomach to your burning heart. Your face was flushed, cheeks red and hot, eyes half-lidded to relish the fervour this supposed stranger gave to you. His hands slide down to your hips, fingertips grazing frail strokes over your sequin studded dress, tugging ever so gently at the hem. He brought a whole new meaning to 'dancing on the dance floor', maybe he made it even better. Jammed between the crowd of unwanted people, he was someone you didn't want to shove around.

The man's lips part against the nape of your neck; a few seconds of anticipation almost knocked the air out of your lungs because his tongue had darted out and licked up a patch. You should be icked by this. If anything, under the sober-spirited circumstances of your mind, you'd have punched the man right in his gut. But not this time. Was it the way he held you? Was it how his lips knew your skin? What was it that made you so unresponsive to a man toying with your body, toying with your outdated sense of perceiving pleasure. The music starts to fade, and so do you; harrowing reality slips the bounds of time and space, melting your mind to his warmth.

"Back off, dick face!" and in the middle of you losing your mind, your best friend's voice rings out in your ears. "Can't you see she's married?"

Hyunju holds your hand up to the guy behind you, who, upon catching a glimpse of the twinkling rock on your finger, detaches himself and saunters backwards. Before you could comprehend the events under the saccade of your eyes, the stranger had already disappeared in the waves of people dancing around you. He's long gone in the darkness, in the space where the neon lights don't shine.

"Are you for real, Ye-rin?" Hyunju takes your hand in hers and drags you off the dance floor. "Who was he?"

Only the echoes of her question remain still in your head, other than that, you're replaying the last few minutes in your mind like a broken record.

"I don't know," you shrug, regardless the dark, "he came out of nowhere."

Neon lights bleach out to proper amber lights as you come to the booth your friends had occupied. Hyunju forces you down on the couch, next to another one of your girlfriends and stands in front of you, glaring at you with her arms crossed over my chest. Her skirt rustles a bit as she shifts her weight on one leg, and the sleeves of her blouse overflow the length of her arms as she raises them up in air.

"And you let him do as he pleased with you?" she grumbles.

The gradual attempts of your brain unraveling the moments from dance floor sink in and you scoff in disbelief.

"I wasn't thinking straight." You could hear your other friends whispering, confused and wondering.

"Ye-rin," she huffs and settles down on the other end of the circular couch, "you should be careful. If it weren't for me, chances were that you would have been...never mind."

You see her shake her head and peer at the other girls, deep in thought—not for long however, because she turns back to you and questions:

"Why didn't you shove him off though?" her curious eyes settle on you. "Didn't your brain activate flight or fight or something when he first touched you? Honestly, you didn't seem uncomfortable with him either."

You suck in a sharp breath, your head hanging low. Contemplating, you hear one of your friends tease, "did you like it, Ye-rin?"

Yun-Ah receives a cold glare from you, and she pipes down, pouting. She exchanges a knowing glance with Hyunju who sat next to her.

"Oh, she did. She so did." Ah-ri chimed in from next to you, hitting your shoulder.

"Guys, stop it!" You snap and relax once realising how tensed your voice sounded. "Maybe—fine, okay, you guys win. I didn't push him off because I—" your voice dwindles to a whisper, "—because I liked it. He...he knew exactly where to touch me. My body—I really wished my body had reacted to it with disgust and grimace, but it couldn't."

Your friends listen to you explain, and the same words reverberate inside you.

"I knew this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have tagged along with you," you mumble, feeling guilt consume your gut and heart. "If San knows about it—"

"—wait a minute, why and how would San come to know about this?" Hyunju interrupts you, continuing with a scoff, "look, no one has to know. It was a stupid mistake anyway. Things like this happen all the time. Pretend it never happened and forget."

"Woah, advice of the year," Ah-ri slow claps, monotonously mumbling. "Seriously Hyun, you should've become a marriage counsellor. The world needs you. The people need you. Divorce rates would've dropped if you had just observed married couples instead of picking up a pen."

Hyunju dry laughs, "oh gee Ah-ri, did you know sarcasm is one of the biggest turn offs for guys? Poor Jiung."

Ah-ri scoffs and opens her mouth to retaliate but is shut up by Min-Ji, who strides while balancing five glasses of cocktails in her hands.

"Not you two again." She groans, setting the glasses down on the table. "And by the way, guys? I think we should bail. The bartender here is an absolute jerk and a sleazeball. I had to wait fifteen minutes before he got to me. There was no one at the bar! No one."

"No can't do, baby girl." Yun-ah states, already reaching out for her glass, containing swirls of pink and red. "Ask Ye-rin."

"What...?" Min-Ji turns to you, bemused.

"It's nothing, Min. Don't heed them any attention." You click your tongue and glare at the girls, taking the only glass left on the table now. "You guys make a big deal out of everything."

"Uh, this is a huge deal?" Hyunju deadpans, "you almost got molested. God knows what would've happened if I wasn't there."

Min-Ji sits down on the couch when Hyunju moves aside. "What is happening?" she whispers.

"What happens on the dance floor stays on the dance floor," you stress on the words, "now can we please drop this?"

"No," Ah-ri states, her tone determined, "is everything okay with you and San, Ringo?"

Listening to her, everything comes rushing back in and you sigh, "no."

Hyunju mumbles, "so there's more to him abandoning you on your special night?"

You nod your head and Min-Ji pipes in, "well I know you had an ugly blow up in the morning..."

"It's stupid really," you utter, taking a sip of your drink; the alcohol burns your throat as it slides down. "Very stupid."

The girls watch you with pity as they sip their own drinks. None of them had anything to say, none of them tried too either. The silence which settled in the cracks of the moment, became too comfortable for anyone to break it. Until, you had had too much and spoken the truth biting at your heart.

"Guys?" You murmur, getting their attention. "The reason why—look, the man on the dance floor—he had—he had his way with his body and lips. It was something so..."

"Exhilarating?" Min-Ji finishes your line. "Is that right?"

You nod, "I didn't want that feeling to end. You know...the buzzing, the electricity rushing under my skin—I was aching to feel more." Taking a pause, you glance up at them and lick your lips, ready to be straightforward.

"Twenty-eight days, it's been twenty-eight days since San, and I have had sex."

To be continued.

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