#the ultimate club dance collection

[pulcheriebalhoud]

Club Sounds Vol.15 - CD2 The Bumpin' Cuts

[ueslangeais]

Club Sounds Vol.15 - CD2 The Bumpin' Cuts

[linawritesocs]

my ocs' glorious masquerade voicelines!

YES I KNOW THIS EVENT IS OVER BUT. WELL I'M STILL NOT OVER IT SO YEAH I'M WRITING MY SONS' VOICELINES FOR THIS EVENT.

also yes, even though seth is my mc, he has his card and his voicelines as well because. um. i wanted to write his voicelines. THAT'S IT THAT'S THE REASON DHDJKSSKSK. i'm not sure if i actually see him as "playable", but i think it would be nice if his and minnie's cards could be used as "support cards" for battles and exams, basically like a buddy bonus. also you could use their cards for lessons too!! it would be so cute to see them studying with nrc students 🥺🥺

i added their "card descriptions" as well, because i won't be able to draw all of their cards, but i still want to think about what they would look like!

seth's masquerade ssr voicelines.

card description: he's talking to rollo while they walk together and grim looks tired of him and he's thinking of running away from his owner. as for the groovified version, you can see seth smiling and dancing with someone and it seems to be rollo. he's also not wearing his hat, his mask and his cape and his hair looks more messy than usual, however, he's having fun. for the first two items, he lost them while the whole magic user genocide thing's been happening and for his cape.. he just took it off to make rollo and malleus pay attention to him. and it worked because of his shoulders being open. yeah, scandalous.

summon: "this city is, like, so cool! i honestly wouldn't mind living here- hey, grim-chan, wait for me!"

groovy: "hehe, you thought i'll just stand there and let you dance with that guy? sorry, but i've been waiting too long for this moment."

set home: "i guess this cape isn't that bad, but.."

home idle 1: "i wish minnie-chan could come with us. imagine if she saw sebek-chan right now! oh, maybe i should send her a pic or two? he's way too distracted because of malleus-chan anyway."

home idle 2: "i don't get why rollo-chan made me wear this cape, to be honest. i think it had something to do with my outfit being "too revealing"? what would he think about my halloween outfit then?? wait, i think i have some photos of it saved.. hey, rollo-chan, i have something to show you!"

home idle 3: "i don't get it. how did they manage to make these outfits? they fit us so well and they even added things like azul-chan's glasses and roland-chan's eyepatch.. where did they get that info? though i probably shouldn't be surprised, i can easily guess anyone's measurements right when i see that person, haha."

home idle groovy: "malleus-chan really thought he can just steal him away from me like that.. he's way too popular anyway, so he should let me have fun as well. maybe he did it because i refused to dance with him earlier? ugh, he's even more childish than i am.."

home tap 1: "some kids said that i look really pretty and asked if they could put flowers in my hair. i said that they should ask merrill-chan because his hair is longer, but for some reason they still wanted to do it with my hair.. they did such a great job though!"

home tap 2: "wow, ivy-chan is right, that assistant guy looks so cool! of course she would get such a huge crush on him!.. i feel kinda weird when i look at him though. if it wasn't for me changing my appearance, i would probably look just like him. so yeah, it's like meeting my own twin in some way."

home tap 3: "so epel-chan was okay with riddle-chan and deuce-chan saying that he looks cute, but when i said it, he looked at me like i just insulted his entire family??" *sobs* "why is he so mean to me.. i'm just trying to be a supportive senpai, that's all.."

home tap groovy: "i had so much fun today despite everything, i don't wanna go back to nrc! can we stay for at least one day- oh. wait, we were supposed to spend three days here, right? SO I CAN STILL TRY TO ASK ROLLO-CHAN OUT?? LET'S GO!"

hayden's masquerade ssr voicelines.

card description: he seems to be stalking seth and rollo and he has stars in his eyes and he's smiling like a fanboy that he is. meanwhile the groovified version of his card has him wearing his mask, blushing and refusing to dance with others. he looks a lot like a tsundere too, haha.

summon: "ehehe.. i can't believe i finally found someone who's related to the other seven! this is my chance, my family will be so proud of me!"

groovy: "oh, sorry, i don't really like to dance. why don't you go and dance with rollo-sama- ahem, rollo-san instead? i thought you were more interested in him anyway."

set home: "why the chameleon mask.."

home idle 1: "this school really is amazing, don't you think so, prefect-san? and the righteous judge's statue.. i've never thought that i will actually see it.. i-i'm not crying, i just got a bit emotional, haha."

home idle 2: "of course they would go with team names like that.. nrc students never change, do they? they're always so arrogant, so full of themselves, they're just so- well, i mean, it's normal to find other students annoying sometimes, right?"

home idle 3: "allen is here too? ugh, he really is following me everywhere- oh, i'm sorry, do you want to take a walk somewhere together? i would love to learn more about this city and i'm sure it would be even more fun if i do it with you. i just hope allen won't see us.."

home idle groovy: "stop looking at me like that, i told you i'm fine with you dancing with him. i'm sure rollo-san wants to dance with you as well. but promise me that you won't disappoint him. though i doubt that he would get bored with someone like you around."

home tap 1: "i just want to get a break from azul already.. why did it have to be him? honestly, i would be okay with the leech twins going with us, he's just that annoying! hm.. what if i text floyd and tell him that azul really did cheat and that's why he and jade weren't able to go? i wonder how he would react.."

home tap 2: "elpys would totally love this place. i can see her jumping around and going "hay-hay, look at this! isn't it so cool?", haha. i kinda want to see her wearing a masquerade outfit too.. prefect-san, you know it's rude to eavesdrop, right?"

home tap 3: "there are so many rsa students, but it looks like angel didn't come with them. and blythe too.. to be honest, it's a bit boring without them. and it looks like the speculum students feel lost without them as well. that catboy is doing just fine though, i'm not surprised."

home tap groovy: "no, i'm not sorry for "breaking allen's heart" or anything like that. it's something that i should have done a long time ago. you know what i mean, right? he had a crush on you too, after all. i wonder how long it's gonna take for that nemis girl to get tired of him."

merrill's masquerade sr voicelines.

card description: he's looking at his outfit and has this confused face expression, almost like he's going ".. i have to wear THIS?" and in his groovified card he seems to be looking at his phone and laughing. it looks very cute too, because you can tell that he's genuinely happy :) he's not dancing with others and it's fine, he's still having fun.

summon: "i look beautiful as always, right? haha, i know that. i just wish that guy would let me keep the first outfit, i looked even better in it."

groovy: "if i'm not dancing with you all, it doesn't mean i'm lonely or anything. i'm just talking to my cousin, what's wrong with that?"

set home: "i have to spend three days here.. i sure hope it's not gonna be boring."

home idle 1: "i'm glad you think i look good in this outfit, but.. you've seen the first one, didn't you? so you agree that i looked better in it! ah, of course you would say that, you had to go through the same thing.. i'm so sorry, prefect-chan, we will take revenge on their student council president."

home idle 2: "it really hurts me to see onyx-chan pining over my cousin like this.. okay, yeah, it hurts me because he looks pathetic and not because i feel sad or anything. but hey, that's why i should try and help him. he doesn't have to worry about anything at all~"

home idle 3: "of course, idia is also here.. and why did he ask me to be in the same team as him? is he obsessed with me or something? but i like that our outfits look different, even though we're from the same dorm. it's like i really am not his servant anymore and i have more freedom."

home idle groovy: "haha, austin-chan would lose his mind if he saw me wearing this. hey, can you take a picture for me? sure, i could take a selfie, but i trust you and i think you will take an even better photo. okay, let me think of a pose.."

home tap 1: "hey, sorry, but i think hayden-chan is thinking of stealing your man from you. do you want me to do anything about it? what, i don't mind helping you as well, you're not so good at hiding your crush on rollo-chan. you don't have to worry about it though, i doubt that he's interested in your rival."

home tap 2: "wow, those kids really have done a great job. and the colors of these flowers fit your hair so well! if your hair was longer, you would look even better.. hm? is everything okay, prefect-chan? you look so pale.."

home tap 3: "hehe, so you and grim-chan are wearing matching outfits? how cute. didn't you two do it for halloween as well? you sure get along well.. okay, why is your cat screaming and trying to run away? are you hiding something from me, prefect-chan?"

home tap groovy: "i didn't think that i'd end up saying this, but today wasn't so bad. sure, idia was here and also some of us could lose their powers forever, but it got solved more quickly than i thought. well, idia is still here, but.. hey, did you talk to their vice president yet? he's a cool guy, you're totally gonna love him. i talked to him before and i already know that i will miss him."

allen's masquerade sr voicelines.

card description: he's holding a really cool sword and looking at it with this :O face expression, like he's never seen something like this before. as for the groovified version, the card looks much darker than everyone else's cards and it has this red lighting which makes allen look more scary and intimidating. he still has a smile on his face and he seems to be holding out his hand to someone, asking them to dance.

summon: "all of this sounds so romantic! could it be.. i'll finally get a chance to dance with hayden? hehe, i can't wait!"

groovy: "now, would you like to dance with me? don't worry, as long as i'm with you, nobody can hurt you, even hayden. him being a cheater is one thing, but that loser can't even dance properly!"

set home: "i'm so excited for the festival! hey, hey, are you excited too?"

home idle 1: "for some reason, hayden isn't paying any attention to me?? it's almost like he's avoiding me for some reason.. i don't get it, why is he following that rollo guy everywhere? hey, can you do something about it, prefect-chan?"

home idle 2: "nemis-chan looks so pretty in that outfit.. u-uh, what, i'm not staring or anything! anyway, where's hayden? i should go and find him- oh, i almost tripped."

home idle 3: "you want to know why i have a sword with me? oh, i just thought it would look good with what i'm wearing, that's all. i mean, you can agree with that, right? i have no idea how to use a sword though, but whatever, i'll figure it out. where did i find it?.. oh no, their student council president is coming, distract him for me."

home idle groovy: "hey, it's not like i miss you or anything, but just so you know, i could've danced with you instead of nemis-chan today! if only you accepted my confession back then.. it's fine, you really are not the best person for me- what do you mean, we can still dance together as friends??"

home tap 1: "of course, everybody wants to dance with neige-kun.. i-i'm not jealous of him! and i've expected that, he's so popular after all, it's just.." *sighs* "i wish i was just as popular as him. i bet people would be just as excited about dancing with riley too."

home tap 2: "whoa, i didn't expect roland-senpai to reveal his other eye today. it honestly doesn't even look that creepy, i don't understand why most students got so scared of it. maybe i should go and comfort him? ah, i just remembered that he still hates me.. well, who cares about that, i'm gonna do it anyway."

home tap 3: "um, can you ask your boyfriend to stop staring at me like that? i feel like he wants to kill me or something like that and that's pretty rude of him. calm down, why is your face so red? wait, he's not your boyfriend?? i thought that you were on a date when i saw you two hanging out. haha, prefect-chan is still single!.. oh no, you have the same face expression as him."

home tap groovy: "i'm glad that jay-kun is already feeling better. i really thought he was gonna die because he's literally made of magic.. hey, can i ask you something? are you and the student council president really that close? like.. would you cry if something bad happened to him? like, something really, REALLY bad?"

roland's masquerade r voicelines.

card description: he's trying to put his mask on and he's still covering his damaged eye. he's smiling, almost like he's trying to calm everyone down and telling them not to worry about his vision.

summon: "i think i should wear a mask instead of an eyepatch because it would fit this festival's theme better. i just hope others won't find my eye too scary.."

groovy: "haha, being a fae in this situation is so.. inconvenient. i'll still try to help others though. that's what a reliable upperclassman should do."

set home: "thank you for saying that i still look good. i really appreciate it."

home idle 1: "did allen really steal that sword?" *sighs* "of course he would do that, why am i even asking. i'll go and apologize for him. it's not like i'm worried about allen, i just don't want other rsa students to look bad."

home idle 2: "why did neige-kun ask me to dance with him? he has so many fans and admirers, why would he find me more interesting? i don't get it.. maybe he just felt bad for me because everyone's been avoiding me this whole time? this is so embarrassing.."

home idle 3: "hehe.. oh, don't mind me, i just noticed something and i thought it was funny. um, don't you think my name is quite similar to rollo-kun's name?" *laughs* "sorry, i thought about it again. i should listen to the other students and stop saying dumb things- you think it's funny too? i'm glad to hear it."

home tap 1: "i'm not used to wearing something like this.. hm? what do i usually wear? ah, when i was younger, i was in my.. ahem, "emo phase", so i mostly wore everything black. i looked kinda scary back then, haha. i think my fashion taste is much better now, though it doesn't seem like avery-kun agrees with me."

home tap 2: "it looks like you and other nrc students are having fun. oh, did that sound weird? i just.. yeah, as you can see, i don't really feel like i belong with other rsa students. sometimes i wonder how my life would go if i never had to transfer to this school.. no, i shouldn't think about it like that, i have avery-kun and other gardening club members after all!"

home tap 3: "don't you think it's strange that even though it's called "the city of flowers", we haven't seen any flowers yet? i'm very curious about this city's "special" flowers as someone who's a gardening club leader.. it's a shame that avery-kun couldn't come with us, i can imagine him asking rollo-kun about them until he agrees to show them."

fake!jay's masquerade r voicelines.

card description: he looks like a poor innocent child who has no idea where he is hjdjdksdks. basically he's just standing there, looking lost and kinda nervous with a drop of sweat on his face.

summon: "d-do i look weird? how do i move in something like- oh no, i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to fall like this! w-what should i do, everyone is looking at us.."

groovy: "imagine if my creator found out about this.. what would his reaction be? would he be worried about me or would he be happy because he doesn't have to think about his creation being more loved and talented than him? never mind, i'm just thinking out loud."

set home: "um, well, i guess i like my mask.."

home idle 1: "i wish i could learn more about this city with everyone else, but.. allen-senpai. i have to make sure he doesn't do anything weird or even illegal. i'm jealous of one of those nrc students, jamil-senpai, was it? he doesn't have to worry about anything like that right now.."

home idle 2: "i don't think my creator would like this place, it's too noisy for someone like him. maybe it's because of the festival, but i can't imagine him enjoying this trip. what about me? uh.. i guess i don't mind it that much? no, actually, i like it a lot. it makes me feel like i'm a real person with a fun and exciting school life."

home idle 3: "maybe it's for the best that angel-senpai didn't come with us. i still respect them even though they're just as unique as allen-senpai, but i wouldn't want them to cause problems for the nbc students. and we have chenya-senpai here, so that's.. that's already too much."

home tap 1: "h-hey, i'm sorry for asking this, but.. would grim-san be okay with me giving him some headpats? again, i'm so sorry, he just looks so cute today, i can't help it! h-he's fine with it? are you sure about that?.. what do you mean, he will regret saying no to me?"

home tap 2: "why did i have to dance with chenya-senpai out of all people.. no, seriously, why did he choose me? i'm one of the most "ordinary" students here, i'm too boring for him! you think i tend to attract chaotic people because of my personality? what's that supposed to mean??"

home tap 3: "i've actually done a lot of research before going here with everyone else. i won't deny it, i got really excited when i heard that i'm one of the students who were chosen. as for allen-senpai.. he just went "oh, hayden is going to be there? okay, i'm coming then!" he really thought that he had a choice too.."

[yieldtotemptation]

CRASH ft. Wonyoung

wonyoung x male reader smut

11k words

When she wanted to be (and it was often), Jang Wonyoung could be a real fucking bitch.

If you were to ask her, she’d probably say the same about you.

And yet, that doesn’t stop her from calling you in the middle of the night, slurring about some shit with her manager, telling (not asking) you to come pick her up.

You’re inclined to recommend that she fuck off and find her own way home.

But of course, you don’t. (You never do).

-

“Sorry boys, my ride’s here!”

There’s a collective groan of disappointment that ripples through the crowd that’s formed up behind Wonyoung; each face falling one after another as they realise that ultimately none of them get to be the lucky suitor that takes her home.

Moths around a flame, unable to do anything but watch as she sashays through the neon haze towards your car. Hips sway with a drunken grace, a dangerously short skirt dances around her thighs, high heels strapped to her feet make her legs seem endless.

It’s a view, that’s for sure.

It probably makes the pain of rejection a little more bearable, makes them forget that they’re being abandoned on the sidewalk with all the rest of the has-beens and ‘who the fuck were you again?’

Her ‘co-workers’, technically. Some you recognise, most you don’t. But they’re all basically the same insecure douchebag in a different shade of overpriced streetwear.

You’d probably be doing the world a public service if you were to steer your car onto the pavement and run them all down.

It’s an idea you entertain a little. Doing it would really ruin her night.

That’d almost make it worth the dent it would put in your brand-new car.

Still, you can’t completely blame the gaggle of potential casualties, not really.

It’s Wonyoung.

Girls like her are the reason they invented the word ’idol’ in the first place, because calling her ’pretty’ or ’hot’ is like calling the Mona Lisa ‘a nice portrait’.

It doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Like the starlet she is, Wonyoung waits until she’s at your car to make her grand exit. A turn to her adorers and a final goodbye: a casual flick of her wrist, a sweet, flirty smile and a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it wink that’ll have them deep in their group chats ranting about how they definitely had a moment with the Jang Wonyoung.

You just roll your eyes. You’ve seen that wink a hundred times.

You know exactly how much it’s worth.

After all, it’s your car that she’s climbing into, slamming the door behind her like it’s her name on the registration; leaving behind her new fan club with nothing but their dicks in their hands and their heads swimming with fantasies of what totally could have happened.

You’re no better though, are you? The second she slides into the passenger seat, you’re judging the shortness of her skirt, eyes greedily tracing the length of her thighs, all the way up to a hint of lace that’s destined to be ruined later.

You’re not subtle. And in that outfit, she’s not either.

“What took you so long? I swear to God I’m going to punch the next guy that asks me ‘how much of a baddie I really am’.”

No thank yous, no pleasantries, not even a look in your direction.

To think that you used to be impressed by how quickly she could drop the act: gone is the sugary sweetness that she’d fooled those simps with back at the club; the pretty, airheaded, ‘lucky Vicky’. As fake and useless as the glasses resting on the bridge of her perfectly shaped nose.

Next to you is the real Wonyoung, the one that you’ve become intimately familiar with: intimidatingly smart, unfathomably hot, and all too aware of how dangerous a woman those two traits made her.

“Why is this car black? I thought I told you to get the red?”

You glare at her. The gall on this woman.

“What are you waiting for? Drive.”

Barely a minute in and she’s setting a personal best record for time taken to piss you off; impatiently kicking off her heels, tossing them over her shoulder and into the back seat (of again: your car, not hers).

You can be just as childish: you slam your foot down, pedal to the floor, wheels screeching, and you peel off into the night. The acceleration forces Wonyoung back into her seat, scrambling for her seat belt, yelling, “What the fuck?”

Now she’s looking at you. You’re casual, offering, “Oh, sorry, did I scare the passenger princess?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, and you’re welcome,” you grumble, slowing to a more reasonable (legal) speed as you turn onto the highway. “Remind me, when was it that I started operating a taxi service for wasted idols?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She rolls her eyes, puts her hands together, bows her head down low. Rich, coming from someone who’s never had to genuinely apologise for anything in her life. “Didn’t realise washed-up trainees had such precious schedules.”

It’s a low blow, her go-to insult for you. Nothing you’re not used to; it’s been years of this, after all.

Years of Wonyoung, the living reminder of your biggest failure, making your life her personal pet project. Years of her smugness, of her flaunting her success in your face, of her demanding more from you, demanding better.

Years of you pushing back, pushing her, and somehow always ending up in the same place, the same bed, the same tangled mess of sweat and spite.

To think it all started when you saw her across that shitty practice room and one of you (you forget who, though it was probably her) said the wrong thing at the wrong time, and it was pure hate at first sight.

“Couldn’t get literally anyone else? Don’t you have friends?” You throw the question out there, keeping your eyes on the road, and not down at her legs, crossing and uncrossing, teasing and taunting.  It’s a herculean task—she’s practically ninety percent leg anyway; so fucking easy to admire, so right wrapped around your waist.

“Trust me, I tried. None of the girls have their license, I definitely can’t call someone from the company, and the last time I tried to get a taxi the fucker recognised me and threatened to leak my address. So that leaves me with you,” Wonyoung sighs. “The last resort.”

“Wow, what an honour,” is your reply. You’re still not looking—not sneaking glances at her stomach, as she stretches in your passenger seat.

As an exercise, you pretend she doesn’t exist. Pretend that the hem of her shirt isn’t rising up, peeling back to grace you with a glimpse of her midriff, that waist, her abs tight and exerted after a night spent out on a dance floor.

It nearly works—for a second, you forget you’re supposed to be annoyed at her.

Right until Wonyoung laughs. Not that fake, high-pitched giggle that she knows you find so grating. No, this has an edge to it, a bite that she reserves just for you. “Don’t pretend like you weren’t waiting for me to call. Or were you in the middle of jerking it to my fancams again?”

There’s the memory, the one loss in territory you haven’t quite recovered from. (A reminder: be less blasé about what you choose to name your saved playlists.)

You fire back with, “Yujin’s actually, but nice try.”

“Whatever, pervert.” Your attempt at a riposte doesn’t work, it’s dismissed, leaving Wonyoung satisfied that she’s won this exchange.

As for her prize, she does what she always does—gets touchy with your property.

She busies herself, fiddling with the touchscreen on your dashboard—’What the fuck is this playlist?’ and 'Why do you listen to this group? You know all those girls are absolute bitches, right?’.

“Stop that.” You reach over to slap her wrist before she starts getting too ambitious and messes with the temperature controls again.

"Hey!” Wonyoung yelps, recoiling, and then pauses. You turn to her, see her annoyingly flawless features scrunch up in disgust as she asks, “What’s that smell?”

You curse under your breath as you realise what’s coming. Wonyoung’s frustratingly sensitive when it comes to scents; she’s got a nose like a bloodhound—and a penchant for sticking it in the parts of your life she doesn’t belong.

She’s gone as far as 'gifting’ you every perfume you’ve owned, every body wash, every shampoo, even your fucking laundry detergent.

Just another way she’s tried to take over your life.

You give your own car a whiff, if only to see if this is just another case of Wonyoung being a brat.

It doesn’t smell bad at all.

In fact, it smells sweet. Too sweet.

“Ew, seriously, what is that? Is that you?”

You’re too slow—she’s got your forearm now. For someone that looks so delicate she’s got a grip like a vice. She brings your wrist up to her nose, sniffing, making her way higher up your arm.

“Let it go, Wonyoung.”

She’s not listening at all, unbuckling her seat belt, leaning over the console, pulling herself closer to you, pushing her body against yours. Whatever little respect Wonyoung had for your personal space is gone; her nose is on your neck, her breath hot against your skin.

“It smells like…” She pauses, getting even closer, taking a deep inhale as she tries to place the fragrance. “Why do you smell like a whore?”

Her voice is low, coloured with a barely noticeable slur. You can feel it: the powder keg about to explode, Wonyoung getting ready to go from zero to a hundred. So, you deflect, “Sure you’re not smelling yourself?”

“Fuck you, I don’t use that cheap shit,” she snaps. “You fucked someone tonight, didn’t you?”

You don’t reply. It’s not like you owe her one, anyway—she’s not your girlfriend, you’re not her boyfriend, you two are…

Rivals, mortal enemies, fuck-buddies, friends-with-benefits (except without the whole friendship part).

(Take your pick, call it whatever you want, or in Wonyoung’s case: don’t call it anything at all.)

“Who—who was it this time?” Wonyoung’s fingers tighten around your arm, and there’s that spark in her eyes.

Every chance she gets, she’ll insist she gives so few fucks about your personal life, but one mention of another woman and she’s diving right in the mud, for once not hiding the fact that she may actually give a shit about you.

It’s probably why you do it.

“Who’s the slut dumb enough to spread her legs for you?”

Now it’s your turn to avoid her gaze, to pretend that having her this close isn’t doing wild things to your heartrate. You make an unforced error: “None of your business.”

“So you did fuck someone.” Her hand moves down your arm, dragging her fake acrylics across your skin until they find purchase in your thigh, digging in hard enough to make you flinch. “You fucked someone I know didn’t you. Who…” She’s reading you, trying to find the answer somewhere in the stress lines of your face. “Hyewon. Yena. Yuri. I swear if it was fucking Eunbi, I’m going to—”

“Going to what?” You challenge. You know this game. You’ve played it before—every damn time she gets like this (and you know where it leads). “Going to lie to me about your own personal survival show back there?”

Wonyoung scoffs. It’s a throaty sound that seems almost foreign coming from her—too impolite, too uncouth for the elegant, refined image she’s painstakingly cultivated. But she makes it anyway, because she’s had a few too many drinks and you’re the only one who’s around to see her like this—raw, unfiltered. “Those losers? I’m not like you, bringing home every pair of tits that strokes your ego.”

“Good to know that I’m special then,” you smirk, but she’s not smiling back.

No, she’s just looking at you, in that annoying, Wonyoung way. It’s those big, doe eyes of hers that you’ve seen do so much damage before—make men bend over backwards, light themselves on fire just to get her to look their way. “You wish.”

You push on, push her just a little bit. “Drop the act, Wony. I wasn’t your last resort—I’m the only one you even considered. You needed your daddy—isn’t that what you were calling me before?”

“I never said that.”

“Wony—”

“And if I did, I’ll never say it again,” she declares, before emphasising. “Never. Again.”

But you know her better than that. You know her lies just as well as she knows yours; it’s in the quickness of her response, the defensiveness—the vulnerability.

“I doubt that,” you say, making the most of the tiny crack in Wonyoung’s armour. “I remember you screaming it. Had you cumming like a fountain—ruined a perfectly good set of sheets, you know?”

“You’re disgusting,” she hisses, but she’s got the same memories in her head—that same night, so similar to this one (so similar to every night before).

The fighting, the fucking, the endless cycle of pushing each other’s button until one of you snaps.

“And what about you? You got here awfully quick for two in the morning,” she says. Her hand’s still on your thigh, less nails, more fingertips now, tracing patterns through the denim of your jeans. “Couldn’t bear the thought of me with someone else, could you? Lie to me—tell me that you weren’t waiting to get your hands on me again.”

Your denial dies before it even makes it past your lips—your own body turns traitor on you, provoked by her hand rising higher. There’s a smile as Wonyoung finds what she was looking for, the proof in the stretching of your jeans, the outline of your cock begging for more of her attention.

“At least this part of you is honest,” she muses, fingers dancing around your growing stiffness.

You grit your teeth, doing your best to keep the car steady, managing to grind out, “Please. It’s like you said, any decent pair of tits does it for me. Even your tiny ones get the job done.”

Her hand freezes on your thigh—you’ve hit a nerve, hit that dark part of her that’s so desperate for validation. “You think you can replace me? Find someone else to fill your sad, lonely nights?”

She’s closer now, her breath against your neck, her fingers drumming a beat right over where the head of your cock is. It’s a heady feeling, one that you hate and crave all at once.

“Was she even good?”

You know what she’s really asking: Was she better than me?

And you know the answer: How could anyone be?

But you don’t say that. You don’t need to. Instead, you reply, “It’s not a competition.”

“Everything’s a competition.”

Wonyoung’s hand relaxes, nails retreating from your thigh, leaving you flustered and fighting against the constraints of your own jeans. She settles back into her seat, having done her damage.

And for a moment, silence reigns inside your car, allowing you to actually focus on the road. Not that it really matters, you know the route to her apartment by heart—you could drive it blindfolded if need be. It’s just a welcome distraction to avoid dealing with the state she’s left you in.

The quiet survives a beat, two, and then Wonyoung’s squirming, shifting in the passenger seat.

And then she does it again.

And again.

You should keep your eyes ahead—you need to keep your eyes ahead.

You know exactly what you’re going to find if you look over at her.

That’s the problem with you and Wonyoung. You know each other too well. Your likes, your dislikes. What gets you off. What makes you mad.

What drives you fucking wild.

And yet, because you’re a sucker for punishment, you still risk a glance, and see Wonyoung, leaning back in her seat, her hand sliding up her own thigh, so casually drifting up her soft, bare skin, higher and higher.

The skirt rises, inch by torturous inch, and it’s those panties—the same set that was around her ankles the last time you had her bent over your couch, swearing she’d hate you forever. The same set that’s probably already soaked, just waiting for you to rip them off again.

You have to tell her to stop, to keep her hands to herself, to not do this to you, not now. Not while you’re trying to keep you both on the fucking road. But your mouth is dry, and all you can manage is a choked, “Wonyoung—”

Her fingers have slid past the hem of her skirt, now playing with the lace that’s the only barrier between her and open air. She’s biting into the plumpness of her bottom lip, staring at you, expecting your full attention, even now. There’s no subtlety with her, there never is, it’s one of the few things Wonyoung’s bad at.

You swallow hard, finding your voice. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Making myself comfortable,” she says, a little breathy now, as her fingers slip under the lace. “You got a problem with it?”

There’s the flash of skin, a gasp as her fingers find purchase between her folds. She’s so wet that you can hear it—the slickness of her arousal, the quiet sound of fabric sliding against her skin.

You’re straining, gripping the steering wheel so hard it’s a miracle it doesn’t snap in two. Her hand’s dipping lower, her finger sliding inside herself; not deep, not yet, just teasing. Enough to make you want to pull over, to grab her and throw her on the hood of your car, to show her exactly why you’re the only she thinks about when she’s lonely and desperate.

But you don’t, despite the way your body is begging for you to do something, anything, to ease the ache in your cock.

Because if you stop, it’s over. You know how this ends—or rather, you know how she’ll want it to end. She’ll want you to apologise for even being in the proximity of another woman, she’ll want you to beg for her forgiveness so that she might bestow upon you the privilege of touching her again.

If you’re lucky, she just might let you. But only if you play her games.

So you drive faster.

You push the speed limit, weaving through the mostly empty streets.  You’re racing to a finish line, except all that’s waiting at the end of it is the taste of Wonyoung on your tongue, the feeling of her wrapped around you, the sweet victory of making her scream.

It’s hell—ignoring the sound of her pleasure, the wetness of her fingers working in and out of herself. There’s glimpses of her in the corner of your eye, she’s still watching you. She’s enjoying this, loving every second of it.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, oh-so-innocently, even though she doesn’t expect an answer—she just likes to hear her own voice. “Getting distracted? It’s a long, long way back to my place. No one can blame you if you need to give up and pull over.” 

Wonyoung’s getting bolder now, pulling her skirt up to her waist, parting her legs for you, so you can see her hand moving faster, her hips rising to meet her own touch. So you can hear her, hear the fucking sound of each stroke of her fingers inside her, punctuated each time by a wet slap of her palm against her cunt, reverberating through the car, taunting you.

“You want it, don’t you?” She throws the question out so casually, like of course it’s only natural for her to be fingering herself in your car, of course she should be doing everything in her power to make you want to drive into a fucking wall. “I can tell, you’re so desperate to touch me. Definitely going to die if you don’t fuck me soon. Maybe even right here, right now?”

Your foot slips and the car swerves a little—it’s not much, but it’s enough to let her know that you’re losing focus, that she’s winning.

“Careful,” she laughs. “You wouldn’t want to crash before we get to the fun part.”

“You can’t wait until we get back to your place?” You finally ask, the question burning in your throat.

“No. You need to be reminded that you’re-ah-mine,” comes Wonyoung’s answer. “You’re going to fuck me anyway, so why not-mmph-why not save us both the trouble and get started on my own?”

“You don’t own me, Wonyoung.”

To that, Wonyoung raises a carefully sculpted eyebrow.

It’s not even worth a proper reply. Without a word, Wonyoung reclines back into her seat and snaps open the buttons of her shirt, nonchalantly revealing the swell of her breasts, the darkened peaks of her nipples.

No bra—they’re just there. Right there, in your face—those tiny, round, perky tits that you’ve had in your hands, that you’ve had between your teeth, that you’ve covered with your cum more times than you can count.

She’s not shy about it—never has been—arching her back, pushing her breasts out even further. It’s the confidence from knowing every other idol (hell, every other woman in the world) would sell their soul to have a body like hers. So why the fuck not flaunt it?

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s true,” she says, reaching up to her chest. A palm finds her tits, pinching and rolling the sensitive nubs, making them nice and red and swollen for you.

She’s moving faster now, grinding down on her own hand, teeth sinking down into her bottom lip so deep you’re surprised she hasn’t drawn blood. Her breaths are getting shorter and shorter, she’s so close, she’s so fucking turned on, she’s so hot it hurts.

Her eyes remain fixed on you; seeing you struggle only makes her hotter, spurs her to circle her clit faster. She’s drinking you in—the tightness of your jaw, the way your eyes can’t decide whether to keep on the road or on her, the way you swallow, trying (and failing) to keep it together.

The worst part of it all is this wicked smile that’s settled on her lips; thoughts of wiping it off her face with your cock flash through your mind. She’s just so fucking smug about it, so sure of herself.

And maybe she should be.

“Admit it,” Wonyoung purrs. “Admit that you need me.”

“Why would I? You’re just a convenient hole to fill.” It’s not true, of course. You’ve never believed it; none of the hundred times you’ve said it to her before—and she’s never once been fooled.

Wonyoung is back in your ear, “You’re a bad liar.”

Her hand’s returned to your thigh, teasing closer and closer to where you really want it to be. You grunt a weak, “Wonyoung, if you think that’s going to work—”

But she doesn’t listen (she never does).

She reaches for the bulge in your pants, far too quick for you to stop her from wrapping her fingers around you, from taking a hold of you and squeezing.

“See?” She whispers, thick with satisfaction, feeling you throb in her grip. “You’re already about to burst. You can’t resist me. No one can.”

You’re not backing down. You’ve got your own pride to think of, after all. “Save it for your fan club.”

Wonyoung’s never been one to take no for an answer. Her hand moves with purpose, sliding over your zipper and giving it a forceful tug. The sound rings through the car, and it’s an out of body experience; it’s all in slow motion as she pulls out your hard, aching cock.

Fuck.

“Last chance to pull over.” Wonyoung takes a hold of you, fingers curling around your cock with a firm grip that leaves no room for doubt—she’s not letting go until she gets what she wants.  “Who knows what will happen if you keep driving like this. Wouldn’t want to ruin these expensive leather seats with your cum, now would we?”

“Not a fucking chance.”

“Your funeral,” she answers, her smile widening into a full-blown grin as she starts to move, stroking you, her hand gliding up and down your shaft with familiar ease. “Or ours, I guess.”

She’s not making it easy—there’s the slow, deliberate pumps, her thumb circling the head, her fingers teasing the sensitive skin. It’s so natural for her, so goddamn good. 

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Wonyoung’s question hangs in the air, joining the sound of her fist pumping your cock, the squish of her own fingers plunging in and out of her cunt. It’s a taunting metronome, the more you try to ignore her, the tighter she squeezes, the fastest she strokes you, the louder she moans in your ear. “Are you sure you can handle me?”

“I’ve done it before and I can do it again,” you grit out. “You’re going to be the one begging for it in the end. Like always.”

She huffs, and you’ve found your mark. “Oh, really? You think you’re so much better than me? You think you can just ignore me like that?”

“Better than you? Easily,” you answer. “You’re just a pretty face and a pair of legs that can’t keep itself shut.”

That makes her stroke you harder, tighter now, firmer, she’s trying to make this hurt. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

“What gives you the impression I even think about you at all?”

“Oh, I know it keeps you up at night—thinking about me, wondering if I’m thinking about you, wondering if any other slut can make you feel the way I do,” Wonyoung’s leaning on you, chin propped up on your shoulder, a devil in your ear. “You hate it, don’t you? You hate that it’s my cunt that you can’t get out of your head, that it’s my pretty lips that you need so badly around your cock.”

"Are you sure you’re not just projecting, Wony?” You ask, glancing down to her hand between her legs, her fingers deep in her folds, her cunt dripping with juices and making a small puddle beneath her. “Look at how wet you are at just the thought of having my cock back between your pretty lips again.”

“Fuck you.” Wonyoung’s panting, short harsh breaths. There’s no conviction in her voice, no denial to be found—this dance of spite and lust has her so fucking heated. All of it—the hate, the competition, the push and pull: it’s all just foreplay. “You’re nothing to me. Nothing but a back-up plan, a toy I play with when I’m bored.”

“Now who’s a bad liar.”

“Go fuck your—”

You don’t let her finish her insult. You’re tired of the back and forth, the games, the fucking power plays. You take your hand off the steering wheel, grabbing her by the hair, wrenching her head up to meet your eyes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re—” Wonyoung’s mistake is opening her mouth in protest—you push her face down onto your cock; not giving her a chance to argue, not giving her a chance to do anything but suck you dry like the skinny little slut she is.

She chokes, hacks a cough as you plunge your cock down her throat, her nose meeting your waist, and it nearly has you emptying into her mouth then and there.

Turns out, she’s right.

You do need this. Need to feel her perfect, pouty lips on you again, her teeth grazing against your skin, her tongue giving in and worshipping you like she’s never done with anyone else.

You keep a hand wrapped up in a fistful of her hair, but you don’t even need to hold her down—she doesn’t fight you, doesn’t even make the slightest noise of protest. No, she just takes it; never mind how much her eyes water, her mouth drools.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning before you can think better of it, and just like that, you’re conceding the smallest victory to her.

And it makes her smile around your cock.

You grunt in response; buck your hips, feed her your cock, make her gag (make her regret it).

You don’t ease up, because if there’s one thing you know about Wonyoung (one thing you know about fucking Wonyoung), it’s that the most insulting thing you can do to her is to take it easy on her.

Just fuck her face and behold the sight of Wonyoung taking your cock. God, her pretty lips wrapped around you, her throat bulging at your length, her teary eyes staring up at you with a mix of defiance and something that’s eerily close to adoration.

It almost makes you forget that you’re supposed to be driving, and it takes a honk from a car behind you and a smile and a curt nod from Wonyoung to remind you of the world rushing by outside.

You pull your eyes back to the road, both hands on the steering wheel to right the car back on track, barely escaping death by deepthroat.

Wonyoung laughs around your cock, a muffled sound that sends vibrations up your shaft. You try to ignore it, but she’s already seizing the opportunity, taking full advantage of the distraction to push down on her own accord, to take you deep—to start properly sucking.

You swerve again.

Her mouth is absolute heaven, pure and simple—she’s a fucking master at this. Your cock’s been in her mouth so many times before that she could probably write an instruction manual on exactly how to make you come unglued.

Too much all at once—you’re groaning now, unable to help it. She’s not even trying that hard; just taking your cock between her lips, sliding it all the way down her throat, a few gentle licks here, a swirl of her tongue there, but it’s more than enough. It’s what keeps you coming back. No one else feels like this—no one else has mapped out your cock like she has—every inch, every vein.

It’s the rhythm that she’s got down to a science: how fast to take you, how much pressure to apply, when to break from her pace to keep you teetering on the edge.

You can feel her eyes on you, scanning you for any sign of weakness—this is precisely where she wants to be. Like this was her decision—like everything leading up to this was part of some messed up strategy to provoke you, to make sure that your cock ended up in her mouth.

You don’t get a chance to dwell on that thought, not when Wonyoung’s teeth is at the base of your cock, her cheeks hollowed out, her tongue doing these little flicks that make your toes curl.

And there’s the question in her eyes: ’is that all you got?’.

Fuck it—risk taking your hand off the steering wheel, it belongs in her silky, dark hair. Make her eyes widen, make her take you deeper, kiss the back of her throat with the tip of your cock, force these divine fucking sounds.

The noises when she gags around you, when the spit is hacked up and drooled down your cock; she’s so sloppy, so filthy.  

And she takes it, takes all of it.

Push her down before pulling her up by the hair, choke her, gag her, have her slobber all over your cock, make her feel you.

Wonyoung takes and takes and takes.

It’s fucked up how you’re treating her (how she’s letting you treat her); she’s an idol for fucks sake. But that’s the last concern you have on your mind—all you can focus on is how fucking good it feels to do this to her, to have her fighting for air around your cock, fighting to keep her eyes on you as you fill them with tears.

Wonyoung’s not giving up though—she’s timing it, timing you. When to relax her throat to take you deep. When to suction her lips. Where to dart her tongue to find that sensitive spot along your shaft.

She’s battling back, in her own way, just as determined as you are to not lose this war of wills. But in the end, you’re the one in the driver’s seat.

“Mmmph,” she’s the one moaning now, moaning around your cock. Shivering in your lap, body jerking and trembling; you can tell her fingers are still buried in her cunt, playing with herself.

She’s so fucking shameless, so fucking pretty, even like this—cheeks flushed, makeup smeared, eyes watering.

You want to kiss her, but that would mean separating her lips from your cock. You want to tell her how much you hate her, but the words won’t come out—they’re stuck in your throat, lodged between your grinding teeth.

“Wait—fuck.” You realise you’ve missed your turn, a split second too late. You jerk the steering wheel, needing both hands as you pull a sharp U-turn. The tires squeal as you try to correct your error, Wonyoung’s mouth around your dick scrambling your brains.

She pulls her lips off from your cock with a hollow ‘pop’. “I thought you could handle me?”

You try to reply—try to form a single coherent thought—but the chance slips by as Wonyoung’s back on the offense, back throating your cock so quickly that your vision swims.

A deep breath is what you need to keep it together. You’re barely thinking straight, holding onto the steering wheel for dear life, doing everything you can to keep yourself from giving up (giving in to Wonyoung’s mouth).

But it’s hard. So fucking hard.

You’ve blown far past any normal speed limit, trying to keep from spinning out with every one of her enthusiastic bobs—it’s by some divine benevolence the car hasn’t completely flipped over by now.

Wonyoung’s relentless, her mouth’s a fucking black hole, sucking you in, stealing every thought from your mind until there’s nothing rattling around your skull but the feel of her wet, warm lips on your cock, and the obscene sounds of her fingers sawing in and out of her pussy, fucking herself.

You’re almost there, and Wonyoung knows it. You can feel it in the suction of her lips, in how hard she’s working you over. It’s the sweetest kind of torture—knowing that she’s got you right where she wants you, that she’s got you on the edge and you can’t do anything about it.

You’re not going to last much longer.

Neither is she.

So you drive. You drive like your life depends on it, because maybe it does. Maybe the only thing keeping you sane is the promise of your eventual release, of filling her mouth with her cum, of pulling her onto your lap and fucking her cunt raw until she screams your name.

“Come on, you can do it,” she’s taunting you now, lathering your cock with just her tongue, dragging it along your length, licking you all the way from your balls to your head. She’s giggling as she steals the pre-cum from your tip, the fucking bitch—like she’s got all the power in the world.

You can see her apartment building in the distance, a beacon of light in the darkness.

You’re almost there.

You reach for the garage remote, mashing the button as you get closer and closer (you’re going to break it). The gate sluggishly opens, and you make a sharp turn to swerve into the dimly lit building, not bothering to slow down.

You can’t, not when Wonyoung’s balancing your cock on her tongue, her hand now squeezing at your base, stroking so fast, so erratic, determined to have you cum in her mouth as soon as fucking possible.

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?” she asks, expectantly. “Cover me in it, give me what I deserve—show me how much you need me.”

The car’s screeching to the closest parking space, the sound echoing through the garage, as you skid between parallel white lines.

You’re cumming before the car’s even completely stopped.

It’s explosive; a white-hot heat searing through your veins, a roar in your ears as you shower Wonyoung’s perfect face with ropes of cum. She’s still jerking you off with her hand, her mouth hovering around the head of your cock, slurping up every drop she can get.

“All mine,” she chants, greedy for it. You pulse in her hand, your cum spurting over her cheekbones, across her nose, painting over that tiny dark freckle above the corner of her mouth.

She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink; she’s a statue, a goddess demanding her sacrifice. Her grip is ironclad, stroking you through your orgasm, not stopping until you’re drained, until your cock is twitching in her hand and there’s nothing left but a sticky mess plastered across her big, wide grin.

You feel the last of your orgasm pulse out of you, dripping down her dainty fingers. She licks her lips, smearing your cum across her cheek with her thumb before she sits up straight, basking in her victory.

“Fuck, Wonyoung,” you manage to get out, your chest heaving, your hand finally loosening its grip on the steering wheel.

“Mm-hmm,” she nods, not looking away from you, not breaking the eye contact that’s holding you in place. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

She’s not done yet—she still has to take her victory lap.

Wonyoung pulls herself off you, giving the tip of your cock a parting kiss as she sits back in her seat. She lifts her legs up—those endless stretches of porcelain skin—one after another, slow, dramatic, placing her bare feet on the dashboard.

Her skirt rides up, and with a stretch she drags her panties up her thighs, along her calves, and off her feet; the lace is soaked with her juices, leaving a trail of stickiness as she reveals herself to you.

The panties disappear somewhere into the backseat of your car, another spoil of war, and she spreads her legs wide, so wide, making sure you have a perfect view of her gleaming cunt. You can see her clit, peeking out from between her folds, and it’s all you can do to keep your hand from reaching over and taking over.

But this is her show, isn’t it? This is all for her, all about her getting off. And she’s fucking drowning in it—fingers in her cunt again almost immediately, so wet, so hot, so shameless in your car, so confident in her ability to get what she wants from you.

Her hips rock up and down, she’s fucking herself in front of you—for you. She’s daring you to look away, challenging you to deny how fucking hot she is.

You can’t.

“I’m going to cum now.” It’s a low hush, confident. “Watch me. Don’t move. Just fucking watch me.”

Wonyoung’s eyes are crystal clear, staring deep into you with the look of a girl who’s gotten everything she’s ever wanted in life. It’s that look she gets right before she shatters, and you know she’s there—right fucking there.

Her other hand reaches up, cradling your cheek, needing some connection, needing you to be with her. It’s not enough to just simply cum, she needs you to see it, to be a part of it in some twisted way.

“Just look at you,” Wonyoung says, like she’s not the one that’s covered in your cum, that’s not bucking her hips into her hand, working herself into a frenzy, like she’s trying to tear herself apart. “You can’t keep your eyes off me, can you?”

And she’s right—you hate her, you love her, you want to fuck her, you want to strangle her—it’s all a jumble of emotions in your head.

“That’s it—keep looking at me—don’t fucking take your eyes off me—fuck—yes—I’m going to—”

The only warning you get is a strangled gasp as Wonyoung cums, feeling it through her entire body, forcing her to keel over by just the force of it, making her fall into you.

Her hand on your cheek drags down to wrap around your neck, anchoring herself to you, pulling herself closer so she can smash her mouth against yours.

She’s kissing you, really kissing you, mouth open and hungry, all teeth and tongue, sloppy and wet. She’s marking her territory now, claiming you as she cums, and fuck, you can still taste yourself on her lips—salty and bitter.

Wonyoung’s hand is still working her clit, prolonging her bliss, and then she’s climbing on top of you, straddling you, grinding down on your half-hard cock as she rides out the last of her orgasm.

Her thighs are sticky with her juices, her skirt riding up so high that you can see the bare, plump skin of her ass, and you’re fighting the urge to just push it aside and plunge your cock inside her—

But she’s not giving you that satisfaction—not yet.

Her climax dies right on top of you—her hips rolling on her fingers, her body living and dying on the last embers of pleasure.

Finally, Wonyoung stops, collapsing against your chest, and you let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of her body pressing down on you. She’s a mess, a fucking disaster, and you hold her tight, your arms around her impossibly tiny waist, your cock coming back to life between her thighs.

It’s intimate, almost kind of romantic in a way that’s entirely fucked up, considering, well everything. You’re both a mess of cum and sweat, panting against each other, intertwined together in the driver’s seat of your car, the garage lights flickering overhead like some kind of sick mood lighting.

Wonyoung laughs.

“You’re all sticky.” She leans back, taking her finger and swiping it across your cheek, coming away with a glistening strand of your own cum, a rope that must have strayed from her face and onto yours.

There’s a glint in her eyes, a dirty little idea, and before you can even react, she’s leaning in again, her tongue tracing the line of your jaw, collecting the rogue drops of you.

She rolls her hips down and over you as she does it, stirring your cock back to attention, because apparently she’s not done with you yet.

“You’re a fucking bitch, Wonyoung,” you reply, but there’s no venom behind it. You’re just stating a fact: the sky is blue, the sun rises in the east, and Wonyoung is a bitch.

It’s just the way she is.

You can feel her smirking against your neck, you can picture the look on her face—like she’s already won. It’s infuriating, really, and you’ve got to even the score.

“What are you going to do, take me upstairs and punish me?”

“No,” you say, the word sticking in your throat like it’s made of honey. “Not upstairs.”

“Here?” Wonyoung looks around your car, doing a terrible job of feigning shock (as if she doesn’t know what you’re about to do to her). Yes, she’s a horrendous actress, but it would take an Oscar worthy performance to mask the heat radiating from her thighs, her cunt dripping down onto your lap. “What makes you think I’d let you?”

“What makes you think you have a choice?”  

A press of a button has your seat sliding back, giving you just enough room to lift Wonyoung up, hoisting her above you like she’s a trophy you just won. Congratulations, here’s your Grand Prize—Wonyoung’s tight body, yours for the night (yours for every night).

She can’t do anything but be held by you, have her hips positioned, her cunt aligned with your cock—in your hands, at your mercy, under your control.

“Wait, wait—fuck—”

And then you slam into her.

“Daddy!”

That word. That filthy, devastating word is fucked out of her mouth, a gasping scream as you bury yourself deep into her.

You’d do anything to hear it again.

You don’t bother with gentleness or foreplay—this isn’t a romantic reunion after a long day apart. It’s your hands on her narrow hips; hers doing its best to brace herself on the roof of the car, the window, anywhere she can get a grip.

“Say it again,” you grunt, pulling her back down on you, so hard that she bounces back up, only to be met by another thrust.

“Fuck you,” she spits out, but she’s moaning with every thrust, tightening around you each time, her body betraying her words.

“Fuck you, who?” You’re laughing now, the sound thick and low in your throat as you watch her squirm in your grasp. “You’re going to need to be more specific than that, baby.”

“You know who,” she says, her eyes flying open, glaring at you as she catches her breath. “You always know who.”

“Then say it.”

“Fuck you, daddy.”

“That’s fucking right.”

Her legs are trembling around your waist as you drive into her, her nails digging into the threads of your shirt. She’s begging you for more—harder, faster, deeper—because that’s what she wants from you, that’s what she needs from you. It’s always been like this—no soft embraces, no tender kisses. Just more, more, more.

You wrap your hand around her throat, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to remind her who’s in charge, who’s giving it to her. You lean in, so close her eyes cross, and whisper in her ear, “This is all you’re good for, you know that?”

Wonyoung’s response is to tense her muscles, clench her cunt around you, buck her hips to slap her ass against your thighs. Another battleground in your endless fight for dominance. Fighting for control, trying to dictate the pace, to set the rhythm, to be the one doing the fucking and not the one getting fucked.

And fuck, she’s tight.

Her cunt, her waist, her body. God, it’s like she was built for this.

Designed to fit perfectly in the palm of your hand, to be filled by your cock, to have her skirt hiked up to her waist like a flag of surrender. You’ve got her right where you want her, where she’s always been, where she always will be.

“I fucking hate how good you are at this,” she gasps, the confession spilling from her lips.

You laugh, “I fucking hate you too.”

She’s kissing you again, fingers in your hair now, scraping the back of your scalp, as she rises and falls on your cock. Reflex has your hand tightening around her throat, feeling her pulse quicken beneath your thumb, making her choke out another ‘daddy’.

You’re fucking her like you hate her, like you’re trying to punish her for every sharp word and cold shoulder she’s ever thrown your way. And she’s taking it like she loves it, like she’s been waiting for this all night, all year, all her fucking life.

Wonyoung looks so fucking good, so perfect riding you like this, it’s starting to piss you off. Her hair’s framing her face in perfect waves, not a single strand out of place, even though you’ve had your hands all through it, your fingers tangled in it. Her makeup’s smudged—you can see the tracks of your cum on her cheek—but she wears it like a fucking badge of honour—and like all things, it looks good on her.

It’s like the universe took one look at her and said, ‘nah, she’s too pretty to let any of that shit ruin her.’

But you’ll try.

Keep going—keep fucking; each moan into your mouth, each push of her tongue against your own, each graze of her teeth against your skin—tells you you’re getting there.

Like you’re trying to fuck out all the spite and anger that’s been building up between you, like you can somehow purge it from your systems and just be left with the good parts.

(It’s never that simple.)

“Wonyoung—” you start, but she cuts you off.

“If I could just have your cock without the rest of you—without your stupid mouth, without that fucking look on your face—fuck yes, just like that—without all the bullshit and fighting—fuck, fuck, fuck—”

You don’t believe her, of course—you’re not just a cock to her, the same as she’s not just a pussy to you. But you let her have her fantasy, let her keep pretending she’s just using you for a good time.

“You’re such a bitch,” you murmur, making her chuckle in your ear, her teeth finding the sensitive skin of your lobe, biting down and making you hiss.

Wonyoung’s confession: “Only because it—gah—makes you fuck me harder.”

And it does—it makes you want to show her, prove yourself to her, make her feel it the next day and every day after. Fuck her until she’s nothing but a trembling, whimpering mess, until she’s begging for you to stop. Until she’s begging for you to never stop.

You’re both getting sloppier now, Wonyoung’s hips stuttering as you pound that spot deep inside her, the one that makes her see stars and scream your name, the car shaking with the force of your fucking.

It’s a badly-kept secret you’re keeping from the world outside—the car’s rocking, the lights inside are on, making no efforts to hide what the two of you are doing (doing to each other).

If anyone looks closely enough, if the security cameras in the garage get curious and zoom in, they’ll see your silhouettes; her body arching back, your hips thrusting up and into her.

They’ll see Jang Wonyoung, the princess of the industry, getting fucked in the front seat of a car like some common whore.

And she’s loving it. The danger, the thrill of being seen, the risk that anyone could walk by and hear her moan your name, her voice strained by your hand on her throat. It’s the fact that she’s letting you do this to her, that she’s letting you fuck her like this, even when she’s telling you she fucking hates it.

This moment—Wonyoung—right here, is what you live for.

You want to save it, to bottle it up and keep it with you forever. You want to remember how she feels, how she tastes, the fucking sounds she makes when she’s just about to cum. You want to replay this in your head every time you’re alone, every time you’re with someone else—because even though there might be someone else, they’ll never come fucking close to her.

And then you get an idea.

It’s a terrible idea, one that’ll surely end in disaster—like all the best ideas.

You hold down on Wonyoung’s hips, stopping her mid-thrust, and she’s whining, letting slip just how good you’re making her feel.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she snaps, taking short, sharp inhales, replenishing all the oxygen you’ve fucked out of her.

You ignore her, reaching for the dashboard camera that’s been silently facing outside, towards the wall of the garage. It’s been switched on the entire time, waiting to record the car crash inside—you and Wonyoung tearing each other apart.

Wonyoung’s scared. “Oh no, don’t you fucking—”

But she can’t stop you. You’re already spinning it around, pointing it directly at her cum-covered face, her sweat-drenched body.

“Smile for the camera, Wony.”

Her mouth opens, but she can’t muster the words. You’re fucking her again, the camera watching everything, capturing every moan, every slight quiver of her body. It’s a side of her nobody gets to see—the side you’re most familiar with.

Wonyoung at her most honest, when she’s undeniably yours.

Just her—getting used (using you)—and fuck, there’s nothing more worthy to be captured and preserved for all eternity.

Her eyes dart to the camera, then back to you, her mind racing a mile a minute. You can see the gears turning—she’s trying to figure out how to get out of this, how to win back some ground, but she’s lost.

You’ve got her, and she knows it.

You’re fucking her, and she has no choice but to follow—whether she likes it or not.

“Fine,” she says, the admission torn from her throat as you push back into her. “But if this leaks—if you ever show this to anyone, I’ll fucking kill you.”

You just laugh. “You really think so little of me? Like anyone would believe it anyway.”

And you mean it. You’re not that stupid. But the thought of having a permanent record of this moment, of Wonyoung, begging in high definition—it has you hooked.

You can’t help but add, “But we’ll always know it’s there, won’t we? Forever.”

Wonyoung narrows her brows at you, but she doesn’t protest anymore. Instead, she does the opposite. She starts to lean into it.

She tips her head back, arching her spine so that her tits are pushed up, giving the camera a picture-perfect shot of her body, her chest, the stiffness of her nipples—everything.

Jang Wonyoung—always the performer.

A free hand runs through her hair, flinging it back over her shoulder, and she starts to roll her whole body; fucking herself on you in a way that’s so deliberate, so fucking pornographic.

“God, I fucking hate this.” Wonyoung puts it on public record, eyes never leave yours as she performs for the camera—or for you, it’s hard to tell.

“What’s that, baby?” You tease. "You hate how good this feels?”

“I hate that it’s you,” she says, the words forced out between gasps. “I hate how fucking hot you are.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

You’ll never understand it. How someone you despise so much, with every fibre of your being, can fit so perfectly around you, feel so downright incredible on top of you. It’s a cruel joke that the universe decided to play on you both.

But you play along, let her ride you like it’s her fucking birthright, lock you in some petty staring contest, keep your mind filled with nothing but the tightness of her cunt.

You’re both panting now, sweat slicking your skin, making it easier for her to slide up and down on your cock. Her small tits bounce with every movement, and you can’t help but reach out to grab one, pinch it hard, making her wince, making her gasp.

“Fuck—you should quit whatever the fuck you’re doing,” she says, trying her best to form complete sentences through the pain, the bliss. “Work for me.”

“And do what?”

“I don’t know.” Wonyoung looks down at you and you can see it on her face: the fucking slut is dead serious. “Manager, bodyguard, assistant. Whatever I can do to keep you close so you can fuck me like this whenever I want. If Yujin can have her drummer boy, it’s only fair that I get you.”

“Why the fuck would I want to spend all day waiting on you?”

She corrects you: “Spend all day inside of me.”

There’s your fantasy—mornings fucking Wonyoung in some hotel room, drinking all the juices from her pussy in the car on the way to work, having her suck your cock backstage at some concert, making her scream your name every night before going to sleep.

And then waking up and doing it all again.

There’s no hiding the smirk on your face. “Go fuck yourself, Wonyoung.”

Wonyoung mirrors your grin, that wild, cock-drunk look in her eyes. “Why would I do that when I have you?”

“No.” You’re pulling her close, holding her body tight to you, making her feel it. “You’re mine.”

That word again—'daddy’ on her lips, turning into a desperate cry as her thighs tense on either side of you, her hands locking behind your neck. She’s holding on tight, because you’re not giving her a choice, you’re not giving her anything but what she’s begging for.

You watch her face in the reflection of the car window—the way her mouth hangs open, the way her eyes flutter shut and then open again, searching for something, anything to keep her grounded.

"Fuck me like I’m yours,” Wonyoung pleads. “You own me? Then fucking treat me like you do. Treat me like I’m your fucking whore, daddy.”

It’s too much, all of it. Wonyoung: her face—those lips, her body—those fucking legs, her voice—the way she says your name, how she calls you daddy, like it’s a fucking curse. You’re so close to the edge now, so close to cumming again, cumming inside her. You can feel the beginnings of it, the tension coiling in your balls, the white creeping into your vision.

But she’s still talking—and so are you, you realise.

One of you cries out—holy shit—answered with a—so fucking good—followed by an exchange of—fuck yous—and—I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.

It keeps going, this fucking, this using, this hating—whatever this is.

“I fucking hate you—”

“Hate you too—”

“Hate how good your cunt feels—”

“Hate how big your cock is—”

“Hate how perfect you are—”

“Hate how much I want your fucking cum—”

“Fucking slut—"

“Daddy—”

“I’m going to—"

"Please!"

And that’s it.

It’s over—your cock pulsing deep inside her, Wonyoung’s cunt clamping down around you, and you’re cumming—together—tightening and writhing and calling each other every name under the sun, except maybe the one that actually matters.

Wonyoung’s head falls back, losing control of her own body, the camera catching every glorious moment as she cums, her orgasm ripping through her in a scream that you feel in every inch of your body.

You kiss her—her tits, her neck, her jaw, her lips—claiming her, making sure she feels every drop of you. You hate her, you love her, you hate that you love her, you love that she needs you, you hate that you need her.

And all the while the camera keeps rolling, capturing your sweaty, heaving chests; capturing you filling her, spilling out of her, giving her the cum she so desperately pleaded for. It’s so much more intimate than any kiss, any love confession, any of that romantic shit she sings about.

But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

It’s every twitch, every shiver, every little pulse of your release flooding her. How she tenses and clenches around you, soaks you with her wetness, drowns you in her tight, drenched heat.

And she keeps calling you it—whispering it—‘daddy’—over and over again, even as she’s coming down from the high, even as she’s gasping for air, even as she’s forcing her tongue into your mouth.

Wonyoung slumps against you, your cum dripping out of her and down your cock, staining the leather of your car seats. You can feel the stickiness of it, the mess you’ve made together. It makes you want to do it all over again.

To make her say it again, to make her scream it again.

“You’re so fucking mine,” you murmur against her neck, kissing her collarbone, tasting the salt of her sweat.

Wonyoung just nods, too exhausted to argue, too satisfied to care. Her hand finds yours, weaves your fingers together, and you hold onto her, tight. It’s sickeningly sweet, and yet, despite your best efforts, the insult, the quip to break the spell doesn’t come.

Because in the end, you don’t want to kill the moment—not when it’s so perfect.

You don’t want to ruin it with talk of the real world, with the harshness of the light that’ll be waiting outside the car door.

You stay there, parked in the garage of her apartment building, the headlights dimming down to black. The air is thick with the smell of sex and sweat, the taste of it lingering on your tongues. It’s a bubble you’re both loath to burst—because once it does, once it pops, you’re just Wonyoung and some guy she fucking hates again.

“Thank you, daddy.” Wonyoung’s breathing slows, her grip on you loosens. She’s drifting off, the stress of the night and the alcohol finally claiming her.

You don’t know how long you sit there, the two of you tangled together. It’s quiet except for the occasional hum from her, a cute little sound that she’s probably unaware she makes. It’s soothing, almost sweet.

But reality has a way of crashing in, doesn’t it?

You know you can’t stay here forever. You know you’ve got to get her upstairs before someone sees, before the cameras (the dangerous ones, the ones you don’t own) spot you. Before the rest of the world catches up.

You ease her off your cock, she whines, her eyes struggling open. “Take me home,” she mumbles, still not fully coherent.

“Already am, baby,” you reply, gently untangling her body from yours.

With a bit of effort, you manage to get her into an almost presentable state—straightening her skirt, buttoning her shirt, dabbing the cum that’s pooled between her thighs. She watches you as you do it, through a hazy gaze, still recovering from being fucked into oblivion.

It’s an act. Partly at least. A way to save face—pretend that it’s only the exhaustion, that she doesn’t really need you, doesn’t really want to be taken care of like this. Doesn’t want to nuzzle her head into your shoulder, or hug you tight, or have you kiss her on the forehead and tell her that you’ve got her.

Tomorrow she’ll yell at you for it, probably call you an overbearing asshole for treating her like a delicate flower. Make fun of you for going soft, for totally falling under her spell.

(And sometime even later, in a moment when she’s all quiet and feeling vulnerable, right after you’ve fucked each other and hated each other and ended up holding each other for the millionth time, Wonyoung will say:

“You’re the only one who can keep up with me.”

You’ll know what she means right away; you’ll kiss her again and you’ll answer:

“I know.”)

Because despite the fact that when she wanted to be (and it was often), Jang Wonyoung could be a real fucking bitch, you’re also kind of in love with her.

And, if you were to ask her, she’d probably the same about you.

[blackenedsnow]

Hello! Sorry for the message in Spanish! I think that I have sent the English version :<

Well...I was thinking of shadow sharing apartment or house with a queen of disco (I think it would be very cute the image of shadow sleeping on top of the big hair of a woman almost three times taller than him)

funk

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog x (Fem) Reader

NOTE: Hey it's not a problem! Thanks for sending this amazing request! It was so much fun writing this scenario lol. I’m always happy to create something special for you!

SUMMARY: Shadow the Hedgehog isn’t one for roommates, but somehow, he ends up sharing a place with you. A disco queen.

The apartment was quiet for once. Well, it was only quiet because you weren’t home yet, but Shadow wasn’t complaining. He didn’t mind the constant hum of disco music playing from your vinyl collection or the way you’d hum along while twirling in your platform shoes. It was just… a lot sometimes.

When you’d first moved in, Shadow hadn’t exactly expected to live with someone so full of life. His world had always been chaos, but yours? Yours was vibrant. You brought glitter, neon colors, and a wardrobe that could blind someone. Still, there was something about the way you lived that intrigued him. You owned the dance floor of life, and Shadow had never seen anyone do that so effortlessly.

He was sitting on the couch when the door finally swung open, revealing you in all your disco glory. Your heels clacked against the hardwood floor as you tossed your bag onto the couch beside him.

“Shadow, you’ll never guess what happened at the club tonight!” you exclaimed, spinning once before plopping down into an oversized chair. Your hair, as big and bouncy as ever, framed your face in a cascade of curls and glittery pins. You looked like you belonged under a spinning disco ball, not in a modest little apartment.

Shadow barely looked up from his book. “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“Oh, I will!” you said, leaning forward with excitement. “But first, I need to get these shoes off. My feet are killing me!” You kicked off your platforms, sending one of them clattering against the floor. “Ahhh, much better.”

Despite himself, Shadow cracked the smallest hint of a smile. He’d gotten used to your dramatic flair. Actually, he’d gotten used to a lot of things—like how your hair always seemed to take up half the room when you sat down.

“Anyway, what about you? Did you do anything fun while I was out?” you asked, brushing some glitter off your outfit.

Shadow shrugged. “Nothing worth mentioning. Just the usual.” He closed his book, standing up from the couch and walking past you toward his room. But when he reached the hallway, he paused and glanced back. “You should get some rest.”

You smiled at him, knowing that was Shadow’s way of checking in. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll sleep after I unwind. You go ahead, though.”

A little while later, the apartment was quiet again. You were sprawled out in your chair, half-asleep, while Shadow stood in the doorway to his room, looking at you. There was something oddly calming about the sight of you at rest. Your hair, now fluffed up even more from the night’s events, was almost comically big, framing your face like a soft, glittery pillow.

Shadow shook his head, but a thought crossed his mind. It wasn’t like him to seek comfort, but… maybe, just this once.

Without saying a word, he padded across the room toward you. Your soft breathing filled the space as Shadow climbed onto the back of the chair. He hesitated for a moment, then—gingerly—settled himself on top of your giant curls.

He could feel the softness of your hair beneath him, warm and light, like resting on a cloud. It was absurd, really. The ultimate lifeform, sleeping on a disco queen’s hair. But somehow, in the midst of all the glitter, chaos, and color, it felt right.

You stirred slightly but didn’t wake up, and Shadow relaxed. Maybe disco and darkness could coexist. He could handle the glitter, the music, and the energy—because somehow, you made it all feel like home.

[lutewife]

Alastor relationship headcanons

gn!reader, hinted acearo spec Alastor, mention of one-sided radiostatic, who knows how many words

Warnings: mostly fluff, I don't think so

Notes: Whew it took me way too much time, but here it is! My first even headcanons! Hope you enjoy it, my darlings!

Platonic:

(I imagine it is after some time or after a certain bond is established between the two of you. Because let's be real, Alastor wouldn't act like that with just anyone.)

Alastor is... Well he certainly is.

To be frank though, I would say he is a generally good friend and a very useful one to boot.

People fear him and that means if you are seen as his friend, let's just say not many demons dare to get on your nerves (unless they are especially stupid).

If they do, just go to Alastor for help. He will deal with it, he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty from time to time. He won't always like it, though, so try not to overdo it.

Prepare yourself to pay him back too. He doesn't demand it, but if you buy him a nice whisky and invite him to dance with you as a thank you, you'll earn a lot of brownie points.

Having a powerful overlord as a friend has its cons though: people just won't leave you alone, especially his fans. If you like the attention: good for you. If you don't: then just deal with them accordingly. Your public image may change for the worse, but who cares, it's hell anyway.

Hanging out with Alastor is usually very chill, though it doesn't happen often, he's a busy man. He likes going out on a walk just as much as he likes visiting a fancy club or restaurant. I wouldn't recommend going to one with him, though. He has... Very questionable taste. If you have a very questionable taste too, then congratulations, you won't give a fuck either way.

Also he's such a gossiper, you can't tell me otherwise. If you're friends with Rosie too, prepare yourself to be drawn into the gossip circle. Soon you'll know every detail about the latest tea.

If it's your turn to choose a place, then just don't go to a cinema, and you'll be good. Unless they are playing black-and-white films, then he will somewhat survive and maybe even have a little fun. Just no modern technology, grandpa Alastor will have a stroke otherwise.

If we're talking about watching something, he fancies going to the theater. Bring him there and you'll get an unforgettable experience. He will be commenting on almost everything that is happening, to the point when you'll need to shut him up, unless you want to be kicked out (this man doesn't know how to whisper or is purposely irritating everyone, I swear).

When he really likes you, he might show you his collection of retro radios and other various antiques. Only if you're interested, though, he doesn't want to bore you.

Now onto physical touch, he isn't a big fan overall. But if you're good friends he won't mind a hug or little touches here and there. He also likes dancing with you. Usually he's leading, so it's not that big of a deal to him. He enjoys the little displays of affection, if you enjoy them too.

To sum everything up: he tries, even if he is a serial killer and a horrible person overall, but we don't talk about that. But either way you get some kind of protection, and hey! Just take it, because hell is not a nice place.

Romantic:

Now onto the good part! Alastor generally isn't a person who is interested in romance, but maybe if you were a special exception... He would catch feelings!

I imagine he won't confess first, he isn't someone who initiates something like that. So you would need to pull yourself together and do it yourself. At first he would be hesitating, though ultimately he will reciprocate. And boom! You're dating Radio Demon just like that.

Many people would be jealous, I imagine he received lots of confessions before, so by being his s/o, you'll get yourself a good amount of enemies (for example Vox you can't tell me, he doesn't have a thing for him).

But don't worry about it, Alastor, trying to be a good partner, will take care of any difficulties.

Actually, I don't think he would even want to announce your relationship publicly, though he won't protest if you wanted to tell your friends. And don't be surprised that when you tell Mimzy, the information would be already known worldwide.

I think dating Alastor wouldn't even differ that much from being close friends at first, but after some time he would slowly ease into doing new things with you.

Like he will come to really like your kisses! His favourite would probably be a kiss on the forehead. He wouldn't really kiss you himself, though. An exception is a kiss on your hand, because he really likes being a gentleman.

He would be a gentleman in other ways too! Like opening the door for you or pulling out your chair for you. Doesn't matter if you're a woman or not, he will treat you with respect either way.

His love language is giving/receiving gifts and quality time! Nothing beats spending time with you, even if you're just sitting in silence. He loves giving you flowers! They are usually wilted, and maybe not really on the pretty side... (More like dangerous). But I mean it's the thought that matters. If you buy him a new addition to his radio collection, he will gladly accept, too! He feels very valued when showered with gifts.

Dates with him will be really enjoyable. They won't differ much from when you were hanging out, but I imagine he would try to be even more fancy. And he will actually think before bringing you to a restaurant, which doesn't suit your tastes.

Alastor would gladly use pet names for you. Darling, sweetheart, love, you got it all! It's all natural for him.

When talking to you, he would use an entirely different tone, sweeter and softer. Yes, he has a soft spot for you, better make use of it!

Your relationship will be progressing slowly, but it doesn't mean he loves you any less. It's just hard for him to be romantic and intimate.

After some time, you will just act like an old married couple mindlessly in love. Your relationship is just like that, comfortable and content. Kissing, holding hands, just pure wholesomeness, which is ironic for such a sadistic and bloodlusty demon like him.

But if you wanted more than that... I mean in a sexual way, I imagine he wouldn't even think about it himself. But if you really wanted that, it would take like fucking centuries, but he would reciprocate. Though maybe not as you thought he would.

[bisnes-socks]

i've read people's thoughts on the album as a whole and i've analysed most of the songs myself by now, so here's my thoughts on the whole people's champion album.

1. in ready to go, well he is just that, ready to go and try, even if he fails. he's not afraid and going forward and doing his thing is what he intends to do and what he loves to do. he has agency over his career and image, autonomy over himself.

my longer and more in depth song analysis posts are linked here in the text.

i personally don't think the album has a single narrative through it. the songs are thematically connected, but it's not one chronological and cohesive story to me. i've seen people speaking a lot on the theme of agency. i'd agree, that agency and autonomy are the major themes of the album, but i would specify that in my opinion, it's about finding and claiming agency. i think he has agency in almost every single song, but it's about him realising that he does have it, even when it feels like he doesn't, and him finding it and holding on to it.

2. in cha cha cha, he's talking about different sides of himself. in this song the two aren't necessarily living in perfect harmony, because one man needs piña coladas to coax him out, but both are.. intentional. and ultimately it's about finding the bravery to be who you are, which he is always advocating for and has really succeeded in, it seems.

3. in takavoltti, yes he is being sort of incited into crazy shit, but he absolutely recognises himself as a person who just.. gets into crazy shit easily. this side of him is also very present in mic mac. he's not bullied or abused into insane stunts and things, he recognises his own agency and both mental and physical autonomy in all of it by comparing himself to the dudesons etc. i think the song recognises the toxicity of the situation, but he's in control of it - as much as you are in control of your own personality and impulses.

4. ruoska is getting into the territory of maybe lacking some agency - life treats him harshly sometimes, and maybe he feels a bit powerless in front of all that. but then! he claims agency, by essentially going well yeah this hurts but hehe i'm into pain bitch. he literally says "baby hei mä oon valmis, anna tulla" meaning i'm ready, give it to me.

5. in kot kot i feel like he is at his most helpless. he's trying to control his situation by running away from things, trying to dance his worries away, but it's all crumbling down. in this one his agency in the situation is pretend.

7. in sex = money he is taking back like aaaalll of his agency and autonomy. his image, his work, his power, his role, his personality, his sexuality. autonomous agency anthem! he doesn't give a fuck! let's make sex moneyyy. BUT at the same time the song recognises the risks concerning agency and autonomy in the world of music, where selling sex is so prevalent. i think he is choosing to hold on to his.

6. in skit + autiomaa, he has lost agency and control over his life yes, but he is learning to find it again. he is listing things that he has done, to help himself feel better and to improve. it might not help (immediately anyway) but he's doing it. and he has thought about it, he has sought for help, he has sought for solutions, he has taken the steps. he is actively trying to help himself. i think that makes the song all the more emotional and sad, but it is not without hope, it's not without his own personal action for himself, and not without progress.

8. bananas is more about togetherness and collectivity i think. but i think it's also a song where he is truly enjoying himself. feeling himself, you know? if kot kot is a pretty sad song about partying, this one is pretty sexy. he's feeling like the hottest boy at the club, you know? truly into himself and into his crew and everything they get up to.

9. huhhahhei is about new connections. making the choice to be open and even vulnerable with new people. setting your own boundaries and giving yourself the permission to enjoy new people. self-confidence! 

10. in icip, he's not so much in control of things that happen to him, but he doesn't seem to be toooo bothered about it. which i find quite fitting. he sees things for what they are but he doesn't seem insecure or scared about any of it.

11. people's champion is a recap of him finding himself in a whole new situation and finding his footing in all of it - and recognising the help he has had along the way, while also being proud of everything he himself has achieved.

so overall, i think thematically this album is quite heavy, maybe dark even, but to me, it's not a sad album specifically. he comes across as someone incredibly tenacious. he's able to stay very strong, and he is able to recognise when things aren't going great. i think ultimately, the album is him going through life changing events, both good things and bad things, and coming out on the other side stronger and wiser than ever. it's an album of many emotions, but at the end of the day, he persists. and naming it people's champion, the single tear on the cover.. he's facing it all, taking it all head on, claiming his pride and moving forward. he's strong.

it's a powerful album.

[yurimother]

The 2023 Yuri Guide - Webtoons/Manhua/Manhwa

Your ultimate guide to the best Yuri content with over 200 curated titles from every genre and medium.

After the Curtain Call

• Drama • Romance  • Comedy

Soyoung is devastated when her favorite musical actor is swallowed up by the world of TV. Just after she quits supporting him, she discovers charismatic actress Jaeyi in a theater performance of "Macbeth" and becomes a fan at first sight. By meeting Jaeyi after her shows and even doing her a favor, Soyoung goes from a mere fan to her good friend. But when Jaeyi has to work with celebrity actress Hyesun, who she has a troubled past with, it unexpectedly sours their friendship. All Soyoung wanted was to support her favorite actress... so why does this new development bother her so much?

~Created by Assam, Illustrated by JINA~ Read on Tappytoon

Apollonia

• Action • Sci-Fi • Comedy

Molly Holliday is the new blood on the perilous prison planet Purgatoire. While wet behind the ears, her quickdraw skills catch the eye of steel-edged bounty hunter Tess Seguín and her devilish crew of hard-knocks, The Red Horns. Together, they’ll collect bounties, put scum six feet under, and find a way to escape the planet in their trusty space train, The Apollonia.

~Created by ✯War Bunny✯~ Read on Webtoon

Bai Lijin Among Mortals

• Slice of Life • Romance  • Comedy • Slice of Life • Supernatural

Baili jin, a fairy who was living in heaven, eating and drinking without a care, broke her Majesty’s colourful, stained-glass plate at her birthday and got banished to the mortal realm. Now she has to begin her adventures in the mortal realm with all of her spiritual powers gone! In order to survive, the former fairy has to deliver take-out.... An endearingly silly fairy, a gentle restaurant manager, a reserved top student and a hard to resist two-faced girl, let the story of their beautiful friendship and youthful days begin!

~Created by Viva, Illustrated by Julys~ Read on Bilibili Comics

The Barefoot Nina

• School • Romance  • Drama

When shy and timid Eunseo was forced to transfer to the elite Stella Academy of the Arts, she expected lonely school days filled with cutthroat competition. So she's taken by surprise when the free-spirited Ina takes a sudden liking to her. The two girls become closer as they secretly meet on the rooftop after classes, and Eunseo's friendly admiration grows into something more. Luckily, Ina returns her feelings as well... but they seem to border on a dark obsession that grows larger by the day. What will happen when Eunseo discovers the hidden reason behind Ina's mysterious love?

~Created by Cheomji~ Read on Tappytoon

Blooming Out

• Anthology • Multiple Couples

A GL short story collection. Women from different walks of life realize what's missing in their lives through chance encounters or unexpected realization of ties with kindred spirits at crossroads in life, or a period of self reflection.

~Created by Red Peach Studio~ Read on Pocket Comics

Blooming Sequence

• Slice of Life • Romance • Drama • Senpai/Kouhai

Seowoo, president of the film club, is standing outside in the rain, a welcome break from the noisy and chaotic bar behind her, when a girl with orange hair stumbles out the doors and practically into her arms. Then she begins singing “Dancing in the Rain” while... dancing in the rain. It’s a minute encounter, really, but Seowoo has seen the greatest romances bloom from the smallest moments in the movies. So when Hayoung shows up to join the film club, Seowoo – who’s not even sure what she herself is feeling – finds her heart skipping a beat.

~Created by Lee Eul~ Read on Lezhin

Butterfly Love Effect

• School • Drama • Fantasy

Bullied at school and abused at home, Seulbi, a high school senior struggling with her interest in other girls and her dull life, is on the verge of ending it all. That is, until she runs into an odd girl, wandering the streets with no memory of who or where she is. Instantly falling for this mysterious girl who has no memories and doesn't feel any pain or hunger, Seulbi gives her a new name, Gu Seju, meaning "Savior". The only clue of Seju's identity is a mysterious note that appears in her pocket each day. Seulbi sticks with her, determined to help and solve the mystery that is Seju. However, as the mystery unfolds... Seulbi discovers a secret beyond anything she could imagine: Seju is her future girlfriend who has traveled back in time to see her??!!!!

~Created by ZZING~ Read on Pocket Comics

Chasing Lilies

• Comedy • Romance

Hwa-won knows better than to pick things off the street, even if it is just an innocent-looking USB. In an effort to find the owner, Hwa-won discovers that the USB belongs to her favorite GL writer, Kim Yuri, and has unreleased chapters of the latter’s new sequel! As a zealous fan, Hwa-won can hardly resist herself from devouring the chapters in one setting. However, she seems to have forgotten that curiosity is not just hazardous to cats! Because the USB doesn’t just contain the chapters to the sequel. It also contains things that leave Hwa-won upset. Now Hwa-won needs answers and Kim Yuri’s the only one who has them. But Kim Yuri is a staunch recluse who refuses to leave her house! How is Hwa-won to meet her?! Soon, online meets offline, fiction meets reality and as the pages turn, it is no longer Hwa-won doing the chasing!

~Created by baekjoasi, Illustrated by Deepsleep~ Read on Lehzin

Circuits and Veins

• Sci-Fi • Slice of Life • Romance

What do you do when the cutie who moves in next door to you is an android? In a world of automation, artificial intelligence and reliable public transport, two awkward dorks try to work out how to date each other.

~Created by Jem Yoshioka~ Read on Webtoon and Tapas

Crush of the Decade

• Romance • Drama

Yuna has kept a secret for ten whole years: she has a crush on her best friend, Da-hye. It’s a secret she intends to keep for the rest of her life, but the new year brings a lot of surprises: including a strange new woman named Zoey, who just might change everything. Caught between two women, Yuna’s one-sided crush just might die down…or turn into something else entirely. After a whole decade of pining, is it time for Yuna to finally find her happy ending? And if so, who will be the one to ultimately grant it to her?

~Created by Teunteun, Illustrated by CARBONARA~ Read on Lezhin

Dallae

• Romance • Yuri Cohabitation • Friends to Lovers

Bo-eun has recently acquired a furry little roommate named Dallae (Korean for azalea), who she met in an azalea field. Dallae has her own schedule, though, and comes and goes as she pleases. Meanwhile, Bo-eun can’t seem to stop dreaming about a missed friendship in high school – her name is Saeyeon. Oddly enough, it was around the time that Dallae started showing up that Bo-eun started having recurring dreams of Saeyeon...

~Created by Choonae~ Read on Lezhin

For Her, I'd Give It My All

Comedy • Slice of Life

Jiaxia is a new editor for the comic company BliBli. Ever since high school she has admired comic artist Taiji-sensei, who inspired her to pursue a career in the 2D world. Although Taiji-sensei has a bad reputation in the publishing world for being lazy and troublesome, Jiaxia is determined to be her new editor. But will she be able to get Taiji-sensei to finally get motivated to draw a new comic?

~Created byJitai and Lily Club~ Read on Bilibili Comics 

Getting to Know Grace

• Historical • Drama • Romance

Andrew is the only daughter of the famous Grace family. She also has an incurable disease. Due to her family's high status in society, Andrew grew up with no friends save for her maid, Herta, whom she has become intensely infatuated with. Little does she know, her family is responsible for ruining Herta's life. Can Andrew break the hierarchy and be with her? Or will Herta end her suffering first...

~Created by Hilde, Illustrated by Mokma~ Read on Lezhin

Ghosts of Greywoods

• Historical • Drama • Romance • Tragedy • Mystery

Welcome to Greywoods, a beautiful mansion isolated deep in the countryside. Its main inhabitants? The Viscount Rose, his daughter Lady Eileen, the housekeeper, the butler, and... a new maid, Marie. As Lady Eileen and her newest (and only) companion begin to open up to each other, do their hearts follow close behind? Now, don’t mind any lingering ghosts still haunting the grounds, they’re not real! Nor are there any enduring secrets, deep-rooted betrayals, or an air of mystery... just trust me.

~Created by letINK~ Read on Tapas

The Girlfriend Project

• Romance • Drama • Comedy

When Julia’s scholarship is cut, she’s out of options. A surprise rescue comes when her project partner Ryn offers to pay Julia to pretend to be her girlfriend for the holidays. One problem: Ryn is quite possibly the weirdest person Julia knows. On top of that, Ryn’s filthy rich family snubs black sheep like Ryn and working-class people like Julia. As Julia works to win the hearts of Ryn’s family, she realizes it could be more than her pride on the line: Her own heart may be in jeopardy, too.

~Createdby protokrawl, Grace Franzen, Tami Babikian, and Bre Indigo, Illustrated by Sahyu and Kouwarra~ Read on Tapas

The Glass

• Romance • Friends to Lovers • Drama

Lara and Suni are childhood friends who meet again after 10 years. Suni is a member of the world’s most successful idol group, "THE GLASS''. Lara is looking for a job while planning her wedding with her fiancé, Mark. After a small accident, they meet again and - thanks to Suni's help - Lara gets a job as her new manager!

However, Suni has a secret… she’s been in love with Lara since childhood, and now she is determined to keep the promise they made to each other when they were little girls... to marry her. Suni and her teammates (Eva, Dana, and Lia) will fight to achieve their dream of being the first idol group to win a Grammy, but will their love and drama keep it out of reach in the end? Music, dance, fashion, and a lot of passion... "see us, hear us" we are THE GLASS!

~Created by Nuria Sanguino~ Read on Pocket Comics

Her, Who I Yearn For

• Drama • Romance • Yuri Cohabitation

Dream chaser Nuo En accidentally bumped into the queen of fashion Jun Ling one day, and since then accidentally interlocked their fates. Two individuals from completely different backgrounds began living together after that. However, conspiracy after conspiracy slowly unveil themselves over time; will timid Nuo En alone be enough to save Jun Ling's heart from freezing forever?

~Created by CleverCool~ Read on Bilibili Comics

Her Pet

• School • Comedy • Drama • Romance

Based on a Korean folktale, two very different women find themselves making the same wish - to leave this world behind. One is Shim Chong, a young beggar living off the kindness of others to support herself and her blind father. The other is the bride-to-be of old Chancellor Jang, sold off to him for the sake of her family. When Shim Chong rescues this new bride from the river, their relationship triggers both love and hidden intentions. But will these two women be able to find their way forth in a world that favors men?

~Created by Pito~ Read on Lezhin

Her Tale of Shim Chong

• Historical • Drama • Romance

Based on a Korean folktale, two very different women find themselves making the same wish - to leave this world behind. One is Shim Chong, a young beggar living off the kindness of others to support herself and her blind father. The other is the bride-to-be of old Chancellor Jang, sold off to him for the sake of her family. When Shim Chong rescues this new bride from the river, their relationship triggers both love and hidden intentions. But will these two women be able to find their way forth in a world that favors men?

~Created by Seri, Illustrated by Bi-wan~ Read on Pocket Comics

High Class Homos

• Comedy • Fantasy

Princess Sapphia of Mytilene is not into princes. So, when her parents start putting the heat on her to get hitched, she enlists the help of her equally gay best friend, Prince August of Phthia. But will these two royals be able to pull off a convincing sham marriage? More importantly, will Sapphia ever land a date with the castle maids? Follow these high class homos as they navigate life, love, and (occasionally) their actual jobs.

~Created by Momozerii~ Read on Webtoon

The Incapable Married Princess

• Comedy • Fantasy • Love at First Sight

 For the sake of the country, I was going to sacrifice myself and get married off. But the match was also a woman? I thought I was picking her up, but I didn't think I was being picked up by her all the time.

~Created by Mago and Chengdu Rockman Comics~ Read on Bilibili Comics

June and Alice

• Fantasy • Romance • Master/Servant

June, an oriental girl in a foreign country, becomes the queen's dress-up doll to make a living! June wants to escape once she earns enough money, but she gets caught up in a bigger conspiracy struggle for power.

~Created by Chazi~ Read on Webcomics

Kiss it Goodbye

• Romance • Asexual • School

Aruka and Yukimi, childhood friends living in Kyoto, Japan. The two of them, now adults in a long-term relationship, recount the story of how they became distant friends to lovers. As their teen selves grow up and come to terms with their sexuality and their feelings for each other, the budding couple faces external and internal challenges. 

~Created by Ticcy~ Read on Webtoon and Tapas

Lala

• School • Romance • Comedy • Slice of Life

Xia Yuxun, a girl who really likes cute things and has been forced to repeat a year meets what she considers an angel at the start of the school year: the short and cute Xue Shini. In order to force Xue Shini into wearing her cute designs, Xia Yuxun has to attack. Will she get what she wants...? A light and funny schoolyard comedy unfolds here.

~Created by Yy, Illustrated by Lily Club and PIKAPI~ Read on Bilibili Comics

Lilies

• School • Slice of Life • Enemies to Lovers

Ryoka, who is in charge of school discipline at the school committee doesn't like one of her junior, Rima Sasaki. Rima breaks school rules all the time, but she looks like she doesn't care at all. Since Ryoka likes to look after people, she is always troubled by Rima. One day, Rima comes to cafe where Ryoka works part-time dressing like a boy. Rima thinks she is really "Kazu", a cute boy, and seems to have special feelings for him....

~Yuto Komiya~ Read on BookWalker Global

Lily

• School • Slice of Life • Romance • Slow Burn

Prim and proper honors student Fan Yilin and the mysterious and charismatic Lan Ruoxi met through a stroke of fate and a misunderstanding, and only got further involved with each other from that point on. The more they came to know each other, the more something different started blooming between the two. "I like you, only because it's you."

~Created by Yy, Illustrated by Lily Club and PIKAPI~ Read on Bilibili Comics

Lily Love

• Romance • Drama • 18+

When Donut meets Mew, their encounter turns out to be more than just a coincidence, as their closeness slowly turns into something more intimate. Lily Love... is a story between two very different people, who hand and hand, learn to trust each other in order to nurture and protect the love they share regardless of position, distance, or gender. If finding true love already seems next to impossible, how much harder will it be to keep it?

In the sequel, Lily Love 2, Ploy has been avoiding her family and anything that's related to her family's business as long as she could. She is now, however, forced to be part of the business and dreads what her parents have in store for her. Hopefully, there is one thing that could help her bear all of it as a certain student applies for an internship at the hotel Ploy is at.

~Created by Ratana Satis~ Read on Lezhin

Lime Herbal Tea

• School • Romance

Gu Gu, a shy girl, meets Xing Xing, an extroverted basketball girl. Xing Xing is everything Gu Gu wants to be - have lots of friends and live a happy, carefree life with dreams. Gu Gu is organized; she lists out a long to-do list for herself. But how does that help her get closer to Xing Xing? Wait, maybe Xing Xing is trying to get closer to Gu Gu too...

~Created by Ju Wei Wenhua Jixiangwu~ Read on Webcomics

The Love Doctor

• School • Drama • Romance

Jung Erae has no clue about relationships and men to the point where she drives every man away. Desperate, she seeks help and ends up contacting a love doctor, Cha Yoon. Strangely enough, Erae starts developing newfound feelings for this so-called doctor.

~Created by Chamsae, Illustrated by Bansook~ Read on Lezhin

Mage & Demon Queen

• Fantasy • Romance • Comedy • Love at First Sight • Enemies to Lovers

Human adventurers seek to challenge the Demon Tower, and whoever can ascend to the top floor and defeat and kill the Demon Queen Velverosa will gain fame and fortune and a rich reward from the kingdom. A particular thorn in the Demon Queen's side is Malori, a powerful young mage that has repeatedly reached the top, not to kill her, but to win her hand in marriage.

~Created by Color_Les~ Read on Webtoon

Maid in Heaven

• Mystery • Horror • Tragedy • Supernatural • Weak Yuri

An orphan, Sherl Watson, leaves her job in London to work at the Taylor Mansion. Rumorsand a cloud of mystery surrounds the mansion as strange occurences keep popping up. Will Sherl and the other maids be able to get out alive or were they all doomed to begin with?

~Created by Seone~ Read on Pocket Comics

Maison de Maid

• Historical • Comedy • Slice of Life • Master/Servant

The lively yet clumsy new maid June does nothing right except cause trouble and yet, instead of berating June, the young and gracious madam forgives her and shows favoritism among the maids. Both have admiration and affection for one another, but will it turn into something more? 2nd Lezhin Comics World Comic Contest Second Prize Winner.

~Created by Monnyang and Tarang~ Read on Lezhin

Master of the Fox Bead

• Supernatural • Action • Slice of Life • Horror

Human adventurers seek to challenge the Demon Tower, and whoever can ascend to the top floor and defeat and kill the Demon Queen Velverosa will gain fame and fortune and a rich reward from the kingdom. A particular thorn in the Demon Queen's side is Malori, a powerful young mage that has repeatedly reached the top, not to kill her, but to win her hand in marriage.

~Created by Gyaga~ Read on Tapas

Mojito

• Romance • Drama

Cool and quirky runway model Simone and her witty lawyer lover Marissa were spotted KISSING on the street! Not only that, the photo is all over the internet and people will NOT stop talking about it!! Now their families, employers, and even the public are pressuring them to call it quits on their relationship. But despite their struggle to gain acceptance, Simone and Marissa are set on showing everyone that love is like a well-mixed drink; the sweeter the taste, the harder it is to put down.

~Created by noftB~ Read on Tapas

Muted

• Fantasy • Romance • Supernatural • Drama

On the full moon of her 21st year, the young witch, Camille Severin, is expected to perform the traditional ritual to summon forth a winged demon for her families success and prosperity. But when the ritual goes wrong, it reveals the terrifying truths about herself and the secrets that threaten to tear her family apart.

~Created by Miranda Mundt~ Read on Webtoon

My Darling is the Cutest (She is Also Cute Today)

• School • Romance • Drama • Friends to Lovers

As the top freshman at Brilliant Minds High, Sadie Cang is surrounded by students who admire her brilliance, yet she lacks a single real friend. Fellow student Lex Qi has long since accepted her own hopeless, "dead last" title, along with everyone’s aversion to her seemingly contagious tendency to fail. Although they were both prepared to go through high school in these lonely roles, a silly rumor forced them together. Will an imperfect pairing form the perfect bond they never knew they wanted?

~Created by Guo Site~ Read on Tapas, Pocket Comics, Comikey, INKR Comics, and Webcomics

My Food Looks Very Cute

• Romance • Drama • Slice of Life

Twenty-one year old Yuna is tired of having guys hit on her all the time. As popular as she is, she’s been single her whole life. Just when she decided to make herself a boyfriend to fend off guys, she meets a handsome guy who looks good enough to her boyfriend. But wait, that guy is actually a girl! In fact, rumors say that Min is a lesbian. Nonetheless, the two decide to pretned to be in a romantic relationship.

~Created by Radish, Black Box L, and Lily Club, Illustrated by Radish~ Read on Bilibili Comics

My Princess Charming

• Slice of Life • Fantasy

A vampire that has been asleep for almost two hundred years, Maria, has been awakened by a wolf girl passing by, Xing Lan. When the casket was opened, a curse fell upon Xing Lan. Instead of being scared, the naïve Xing Lan instead believes she has found an amazing companion, and the two embark on a journey to the city. The story begins like this.

~Created by Teunteun~ Read on Pocket Comics

The Nightingale and the Rose

• Isekai • Fantasy • Drama

Streamer Bai Xinxin transmigrated into the thriller game “The Nightingale and the Rose” as the prince’s daughter, Bai Yueguang. In this game, everyone wants to kill the female protagonist. Only Lan Sha, the character the player controls, can protect her. To survive in “a world full of bitter yanderes” and “political opponents who want to stop the marriage,” Bai Yueguang has to figure out how to win against her enemies while keeping herself and Lan Sha Alive. However, this “Lan Sha” seems to be a little…?!

~Created by Lily Club, Written by Long You Xiao, Illustrated by Wangyuanlian~ Read on Bilibili Comics

Night Owls & Summer Skies

• Romance • Enemies to Lovers

Despite her tough exterior, seventeen year-old Emma Lane has never been the outdoorsy type. So when her mother unceremoniously dumps her at Camp Mapplewood for the summer, she’s determined to get kicked out fast. However, when she draws the attention of Vivian Black, a mysterious and gorgeous assistant counselor, she discovers that there may be more to this camp than mean girls and mosquitos. There might even be love.

~Created by Rebecca Sullivan, Illustrated by TIKKLIL~ Read on Webtoon

Not So Shoujo Love Story

• School • Comedy • Romance• Slow Burn

Romance-super-fan Rei Chan is ready for her first boyfriend and she knows just who it'll be: the most handsome boy in school, Hansum Ochinchin. But her plans for the perfect love story are derailed when the most popular girl in class declares herself a rival....for Rei's heart?! This is the year her not so shoujo love story begins!

~Created by Curryuku~ Read on Webtoon

Please Bully Me, Miss Villainess

• Isekai • Fantasy • Comedy • Romance

I, Yvonne, reincarnated into an otome game as the evil noble. Based on all other villainesses ever written, a character like me, hated by every reader, should obviously be focusing on bullying the villainess, leading her into the various romance routes. However, something’s wrong with the female protagonist, Elsa! I-I’ve told you that you’re too close to me. Don’t come any further! Elsa: “Yvonne, Yvonne~ How will you bully me today?”

~Created by Chise and  Ci Wei Mao, Magical Deities Studios, and Lustrous Night, Illustrated by Break S~ Read on Bilibili Comics

Pulse

• Shakaijin • Romance • Drama • 18+

Mel, a renowned heart surgeon, lives a carefree life with sex being a tool for joy rather than a show of affection. Then she meets someone that turns her view of love and life upside down. This story is about two people that meet with minimal expectations but soon become enthralled in a relationship that changes everything about themselves. 2nd Lezhin Comics World Comic Contest Winner.

~Created by Ratana Satis~ Read on Lezhin Graphic Novel Published by Seven Seas Entertainment

Re-Blooming

• Drama • Romance

Hell yeah! A major publisher wants Mai Sohn to write a webcomic on relationships. But she’s struck with heartbreak as her girlfriend abruptly dumps her. It’s hard writing about relationships without being in one, so she needs to find the inspiration for love — and find it fast. And what’s up with her possibly homophobic neighbor? Why is she cool with Mai one minute and then so awkward and weird to her the next?! Can’t a girl catch a break?

~Created by letINK~ Read on Tapas

Relationship Guidelines

• Romance • Slice of Life • Friends to Lovers

Hell yeah! A major publisher wants Mai Sohn to write a webcomic on relationships. But she’s struck with heartbreak as her girlfriend abruptly dumps her. It’s hard writing about relationships without being in one, so she needs to find the inspiration for love — and find it fast. And what’s up with her possibly homophobic neighbor? Why is she cool with Mai one minute and then so awkward and weird to her the next?! Can’t a girl catch a break?

~Created by EPUM~ Read on Tapas

Ring my Bell

• Comedy • Romance • Slice of Life

Hell yeah! A major publisher wants Mai Sohn to write a webcomic on relationships. But she’s struck with heartbreak as her girlfriend abruptly dumps her. It’s hard writing about relationships without being in one, so she needs to find the inspiration for love — and find it fast. And what’s up with her possibly homophobic neighbor? Why is she cool with Mai one minute and then so awkward and weird to her the next?! Can’t a girl catch a break?

~Created by Yeongol~ Read on Tapas

Seeing Xinghuo Again

• Supernatural • Romance • Slow Burn • Drama

Through an old camera in the club's storage room, Gu An saw something that should not exist. She was a shooting star from three years ago named "Xinghuo." Why do you stay in the night sky? Why am I the only one who can see you? Gu An, who usually follows the crowd, wants to investigate and take the initiative for the first time in her life. As an observer and "the most important friend," Gu An and Xinghuo set on a journey to find the former club members and fulfill their dreams from three years ago. "It's... been exposed." "But, I'm really happy. Thank you, Gu An."

~Created by Spicy Cat Comics, Written by Wan Dian, Illustrated by Chun Bu Jian~ Read on Bilibili Comics

Seven Days in Silverglen

• Fantasy • Romance

Tess is a professional working gorgon - she's responsible, organised, and keeps her snakes discreetly in place. So she would never act on her feelings for a coworker, no matter how cute she is. But when her crush asks for a favour Tess finds she can't possibly say no, and her carefully constructed life spirals in the worst (best?) way.

~Created by Ari North~ Read on Webtoon

She’s a Keeper

• Drama • Romance • Action

The rate of kidnapping in Phili has been going crazy. Clara del Samson happens to be a daughter of a multi-millionaire businessman. Meanwhile, the Keeper Corp is best known for their “Keepers” who are experts at protecting elites; one of them is Keeper Elle- who was hired to protect Clara.

~Created by Darunni~ Read on Tapas, Webcomic, and Webtoon

Shine on You

• Romance • Drama

Four years ago, Joe came out as a female writer from her pen name Jeffery Collins. Amid many denunciations, an amicable man named Liam approaches her. However, he turned out to be a notorious literary critic. Along with her father's disapproval as a writer, Joe became hostile and unable to trust anyone. That is until Anna Baker, a bright young art student, starts to change her.

~Created by Digby~ Read on Pocket Comics

Slightly Sour Secret

• Comedy • Romance • Friends to Lovers

Have you ever been confused about love? In the end what is "true love" like? Our female lead now is standing at a fork in the road. On one side, her close childhood friend is waiting for her reply. On the other side, there stands her college friend whom she cannot just let go. Where does this love triangle lead to?

~Created by Huang Shi Fan~ Read on Webcomics

Sora & Haena

• Comedy • School • Romance • Slow Burn

Have you ever been confused about love? In the end what is "true love" like? Our female lead now is standing at a fork in the road. On one side, her close childhood friend is waiting for her reply. On the other side, there stands her college friend whom she cannot just let go. Where does this love triangle lead to?

~Created by Jackbull~ Read on Tapas, Lezhin, and Pocket Comics

Soul Drifters

• Sci-fi • Action • 18+

The human race has finally developed beyond natural death. The immortality so many have dreamed of has finally come to fruition. Claire Clayton, employed by the Eternal Life Corporation, spearheads similar projects as a prestigious researcher. Her wife, Sheryl Goss, holds the top position in the very same company. A stable job and a loving partner – the perfect life. Unbeknownst to her, she is an important piece of a puzzle she herself needs to solve; one which will unveil the mystery of life force and memory transference and shed light on the events of her murky past.

~Created by Ratana Satis~ Read on Lezhin

Straight Girl Trap

• Shakaijin • Slice of Life • Romance

The regular office worker Zhan Ying, who is drama-queen at heart, recently encountered a question that made her face flush, heart pound, and become embarrassed at a complete loss. That is, she suddenly wondered if her cold queen boss Zhou Yuanyou, who is always taking care of her, has feelings for her?! Is it heartfelt, or is it just a straight trap? Zhan Ying didn't even have time to really think about it when she found herself already caught in the trap...

~Created by Jelly Without Ice and Lily Club, Illustrated by 42℃ Latte~ Read on Bilibili Comics

Soulmate

• Fantasy • Drama • Romance • Fated Lovers

Qi closed her eyes and fell asleep in the warm embrace of her girlfriend Yuanzi… only to wake up 10 years in the past! Now back in high school, Qi sees this as the chance to save the love of her life from becoming terminally ill. But little does she know that her teenage self is in her adult body, with no clue about the life she's built and the precious time she has left with Yuanzi. Throughout it all, with each other by their side, can their love conquer every obstacle, in any timeline?

~Created by Bing Ke Ran, Illustrated by Wenzhi LIzi~ Read on Tapas

Surprise! You’re Gay!

• Comedy • Romance

Some are born gay, some achieve gayness, and some have gayness thrust upon them.

~Created by laundromat&lawnmower~ Read on Webtoon

What Does the Fox Say?

• Shakaijin • Romance • Drama

As the newest hire of a game dev studio, beautiful Sungji draws all the attention of her coworkers — but it's her bossy and blunt team leader Sumin that intrigues her. Love is a whole new game for Sungji, and with company president Seju breaking (or was it laying?) down the rules, this new girl’s got her work cut out for her if she wants to win. Will she be able to give Sumin what she wants? Both the adult and all ages versions are available on TappyToon

~Created by Team Gaji~ Read on TappyToon

What Should I Do If I've Signed a Marriage Contract with the Elven Princess?

• Fantasy • Comedy • Slice of Life 

As the newest hire of a game dev studio, beautiful Sungji draws all the attention of her coworkers — but it's her bossy and blunt team leader Sumin that intrigues her. Love is a whole new game for Sungji, and with company president Seju breaking (or was it laying?) down the rules, this new girl’s got her work cut out for her if she wants to win. Will she be able to give Sumin what she wants?

~Created by Man Lin and Lily Club~ Read on Bilibili Comics

Would You? Could You?

• Drama • Romance • Slice of Life 

“Why didn't you accept my bouquet?” She asked, years later like it was the simplest thing. Chance brought Juna back into Yunseo's life but things were much more complicated now. They were no longer in college where the only obstacle between them were the truth yet spoken. Juna was married with a child, what could Yunseo do? As Saeha chases after Yunseo, Yunseo discovers even after all these years she'd still love Juna at the drop of a hat. The three women navigate through their feelings for another, each desperate and yearning for a chance to be accepted.

~Created by Manjogyeong, Illustrated by PP~ Read on Pocket Comics

Xian Chan Nu

• Historical • Supernatural • Adventure • Master/Servant

Liu Shiqing is a playful daughter born to a family of armed escorts. One time while sneaking out on another one of her adventures, she finds herself kidnapped by bandits. Moments before it all seemed to be over, Xian Chan Nu suddenly shows up and swoops her off her feet, saving her and stealing her heart. This is a story of humans and demons, masters and slaves; a tale of revenge and a tale of loyalty shall is only beginning to unfold.

~Created by Yy and Lily Club, Illustrated PIKAPI~ Read on Bilibili Comics

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[oddlyded]

kylian mbappe headcanon

he's impossibly touchy

like he’s got to touch you ALL. THE. TIME.

hands on your tight, on your waist, on the small of your back. if he’s not touching you he’s angling his body towards you or standing very, very close to you.

you barely have space to yourself when you’re out, with him or when you’re otherwise alone or with friends. he’s gotta know where you are at all times

if he’s taking you to a party, his eyes would be on you even while talking to others

and he doesn’t like it when you give someone you’ve just met too much attention. he’s not in the habit of mentioning it, but one look at his face, at his mannerisms, at the way he’s completely embarrassing the other person and you know

very clingy indeed

if you’re out you already know that once you answer his call he’d scheme to have you back home earlier than expected

and all the while, he’s asking where you are and whether you’re safe or not

he’s still very conscious of your boundaries and doesn’t cross them which you’re grateful for but he’s also v overbearing and at times possessive

(you don’t mind it)

oh, i didn’t mention the possessiveness ? man definitely has a possessive streak

he’s very expressive around the eyes so you. always. know.

and it’s so amusing when he acts like he’s not jealous because it’s so. damn. noticeable.

he’d get so firmly touchy, particularly his hand on your tights

he’d also play with your neck in front whoever set him off

biting it off (im sure he’s embarrassing like that) or trailing a strong finger all over it going down and down

loudly muttering that he’s got to get you home to take care of you and how perfect you look for him today

once, you were so cross at him that you danced with someone else at a club to provoke him

man was sitting down the whole time working his jaw and glaring at you, and you could see just how pissed off he was

but he’s remained v collected to see just how far you’d get. you two kept eye contact for the whole integrity of your dancing w the other dude

until said dude tried to make a move and you found yourself immediately (??) being yanked between strong arms

the heated glare he’s thrown down at you was worth it huhuh

he ended up f you senseless in the bathroom for all the club to hear

and then got home and f u senseless some more

moving on, like i said he’s not playing around when it comes to your safety

so y’all have LOTS of fights because you simply don’t care as much lol

obvs yolo

but obvs you take care to text him where you’re going and whom you’re meeting and to not be reckless in a self-destructive way

if only for him not to get sooo worried because geez. he can get his knickers into a twist

especially when it comes to you

man’s on a you to be as healthy as possible. ‘ain’t no way you’re not having a jog w me, y/n’ ‘ain’t no way you’re not eating this and that y/n’ ‘come to bed and snuggle w me even if it’s 8 pm y/n’

but ultimately he is the most amazing boyfriend ever

dinner dates

breakfast dates

dates dates dates

the moment he’s got a free period he’s taking you somewhere

cuddling before bed >>>

like i said, so freaking touchy and you LOVE it

[mariaxxxxx]

The love you offer me (Zemo x Female Reader One-Shot)

Summary: Short stories of how Helmut J. Zemo destroyed his heart.

Warnings: 18+ sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, pussy eating, anguish, depression, separation, unprotected sex, cream pie, pregnancy, loss of a child, manipulation, abusive relationship.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

Work count: 9.352

🟣 🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣 🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣 🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣🟣

Helmut J. Zemo was like no one You had ever met before. Although he is a very vindictive man, he is actually the ultimate embodiment of manipulation, as he is able to carefully plan and execute every step necessary to accomplish his goals. Despite his intense behavior and capacity for extreme violence and destruction, Helmut possessed a more pleasant side to his personality. He was a family man, a loving companion, with a passion for collecting art and high-value cars, and even dancing in a nightclub.

Maybe it was his pleasant personality that led you to him in the first place. The charismatic, respectful and passionate Helmut Zemo who would never hurt You. Helmut is good, but not in the way everyone thinks. He's good at wooing you with expensive trips and gifts, good at making you scream his name on his private plane. He's good at taking you out of reality, destroying your mind when you're under him. He's good at making You beg to be ruined. He is good at adorning your neck and wrists with precious jewelry; he is good at kissing you and telling you how much he loves you. Zemo is everything.

Unfortunately, he was also good at breaking your heart into tiny pieces without any chance of concert. He was good, excellent and perfect in reducing You to nothing more than a broken doll.

(…)

You still remember the first time you saw him. You were a simple, new waitress at a nightclub in Madripoor. On your first day on the job, you were already cleaning tables, serving drinks and keeping the cash register full, even if it meant losing precious nights of sleep. You were more than grateful for that. Staying in Madripoor, in the upper city, was really expensive and after his father's death things really got difficult for his side. Unfortunately for him, his damned father had wiped out his bank accounts with gambling and drinking, leaving nothing but negative accounts. After burying them the bills arrived; rent electricity, food, and hospital and burial bills. You wouldn't be able to maintain everything with a simple part-time job and, to your delight, your colleague Nathan offered you the chance at employment.

It was a dangerous place indeed. With rude men, women of dubious reputation and corrupt foreigners, but the money at the end of the night made it all worth it. There was also protection exercised over site workers; it wasn't uncommon for a funny guy to try his luck by touching you under your skirt. You were a pretty and delicate little thing for the place and that attracted curious people as to why a pretty girl like You stopped in a place like that. Countless times Mark, the security guard, had to chase away mean men and jealous women to keep you alive.

One night, like any other, the most bizarre version of Charles' little angels you've ever seen appeared; the damned winter soldier, the smiling tiger and a man in a big fur coat. You thought it was fun. But confusion soon ensued at the scene when the Winter Soldier attacked some men, causing a general fight. You were hiding behind the counter when his gaze met yours. Maybe, if You weren't so enchanted by those damn eyes, you would have noticed the pain behind it. In an almost supernatural way, You struggled to keep your balance as he continued to stare in your direction.

The moment was interrupted with the departure of the three men and the news that the club would be closed for the rest of the night. The way home was strange, not to mention funny. His gaze never left your idle mind, sending shivers down your spine and contractions in your stomach. You remember finding him handsome and old, older than you, but that didn't matter after all he was beautiful. You slept that night with him in your head like a teenager discovering her first love.

A week later You found him while walking through the streets of the upper city carrying bags; You had received payment and decided to stock up on supplies at home by going to the market. You were distracted watching the ships parked at the pier that you didn't notice someone going in the same direction, they collided quickly and you didn't have time to stop it. You struggled to keep your balance, failing to fall to the floor with your bags. You opened your eyes, fighting the embarrassment, and saw some of your purchases scattered across the floor.

"Are you well?" A voice with a thick accent. You moved your head quickly ready to trash talk the man, but something stopped you.

There he was, the man from the nightclub, the one who would rip your heart out of your chest, at that time You didn't know. For some reason, you bit your tongue to avoid the curses and opened your mouth to show the most beautiful smile.

“I’m fine” You said as you stood up.

"He is sure? I am really sorry." He apologized again. You thought the attempt to alleviate all the embarrassment was cute.

With his help, you gathered up the fallen products on the floor, trying to ignore how his touch made your heart flutter as he handed you a can of peas. After making sure everything was collected, You turned on your heel about to leave. His hand held your forearm keeping you in place. The heat that came from his touch took you to heaven for a few brief minutes only to be replaced by a slight disappointment when he took it away.

You looked at him, trying to say something funny about the situation, anything that would make you seem less clumsy, but you couldn't. The brown eyes were looking at You. No, they were marking You. You couldn't move or speak.

"Everything is fine." You said after a long minute of silence. "Thank you for helping me."

“Let me do something to make up for this misfortune.” He said. “I can take her home. My car is parked right there.”

His cheeks heated at the tempting but dangerous proposition. Madripoor was a den of outlaws and fugitives. You wouldn't risk your safety with a stranger no matter how handsome he was.

“I prefer to walk.” You were definitely being petulant and he seemed amused by it.

“Stop being stubborn.” You didn't miss the authoritative tone in his voice. “You’re full of bags and you just got hurt. I just want to take care of You.”

“My parents taught me not to trust strangers.” You said amusingly. “But if it pleases you You can walk home with me.”

It wouldn't hurt to flirt a little; after all, you were young and single in front of a handsome man. Sometimes, you blamed your naivety for allowing yourself to be carried away so easily by him, being at the height of your youth and ready to experience all the good things in the world. You allowed yourself to be swept away with a simple bump into the curb. As you sunk into his smile, his hand brought you back to reality. A comforting touch on your arm and a friendly expression on your face.

"Let's go."

He walked you home and offered to even carry your bags. The path was filled with conversations.

“Are you from Madripoor?” You questioned.

"No." He said. “I'm here on business.”

“I saw you at the club the night the Winter Soldier showed up, but you looked different. You wore a funny coat.”

He let out a little laugh. Cute.

"Oh yeah." You rounded a corner. “I was helping an old friend.”

“You guys made a mess. We had to clean everything up the next morning.”

“Do you work at that place?” There was a hint of mockery in his voice and it bothered you briefly. It wasn't one of the best jobs in the world, but it was still a job and it paid all the bills.

"Yes." You said with a firm voice. “I work waiting tables, sometimes making drinks, sometimes cleaning and sometimes taking care of the cash register. I do everything."

“Do your parents allow you to work there?”

You looked at him, in disbelief to hear something so silly. You were young, but not too young to ask your parents for permission – if You still had them.

“My mother left when I was little and my father died.” You said. “But that doesn’t matter since I wouldn’t need their permission to work.”

"Of course not. You’re a big girl now and you can take care of yourself.”

If you were a little smarter at that time you would have been able to capture the tone of eroticism in his voice when he said those words, but at that moment you thought it was funny. The conversation was interrupted when you arrived at your residence. You stopped in front of your building and looked at it.

“Thanks for following along.”

“I must be grateful for allowing me to accompany you. It’s been so long since I’ve had a pretty girl by my side.” He winked and you smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up once again.

"You are very kind." His words came out as a whisper, even though it wasn't his intention.

He reached into his back pocket, took out a black cell phone and handed it to You.

“Write down your number.” He instructed. “I would like to talk to you more.”

You put your number on his cell phone, convincing yourself that this was all just a quick flirt with an older man. How wrong you were.

(...)

You underestimated how flirtatious and charming Helmut would be. You thought he would just take you to bed and disappear before dawn, but that wasn't what happened. You spent hours sharing text messages that would evolve into phone calls and, later, romantic dates. Days with him turned into weeks and, without warning, into months. He wasn't at all interested in fucking you and leaving, no, Helmut was different; he spoiled her with expensive dates and exorbitant gifts. Before you knew it, you were falling for him.

You had been dating for four months when he took you to bed for the first time. It was good, but clumsy and quick. Helmut made her cum that night, but he himself had finished quickly with just a few thrusts. You didn't mind finishing quickly since the man had brought a beautiful orgasm out of you with his fingers and tongue. In the eighth month, you and he made your relationship official. Helmut took you to a restaurant in the upper city. The food was good, the waiters were polite and the atmosphere was pleasant. He gave her a simple and delicate necklace; with a gold chain and a pendant with a design that resembled an H. You thought the H symbolized the initial of his name. He placed the necklace around your neck and stood in front of you to admire it. At that moment, you noticed emotions passing through your face, love, longing and sadness. He covered it up with a smile.

“Wear it always, my dear.” He said as he played with the pendant. “It would break my heart if You took it away.”

You wore that necklace without ever taking it off your neck. You were in love and would do anything to make him happy. What you didn't expect was to be fired from your job. When You demanded an explanation, your former boss just gave a disinterested shrug.

“Orders from above.”

Of course, the bastard wouldn't say anything more than that. In Madripoor, loudmouths didn't have happy endings. You returned home frustrated that night, wondering how you were going to support yourself now. You had no family or studies to guarantee you a good job, all that was left were part-time jobs and bars with a dubious reputation. Still, you needed to find something quickly, as the month would soon end and new bills would arrive.

When he got home, his cell phone beeped in his pocket with a new message from Helmut; the man who won a place in your heart in just a few weeks. The message only said that he would pick her up that night for a date. So authoritative You thought. Your current state didn't allow you to have fun, but you swallowed all your anguish to be with him. You might not have fallen in love so quickly if he was just attractive; a pretty European faces to look at on a sunny afternoon. Something superficial, like the designer handbags in the window that you wanted but would never have. Deep down, deep down, You knew there was something wrong with falling in love so quickly, but who could blame You? The man was simply perfect.

After reflecting for a moment, you walked to the bedroom to improve your swollen face from crying and look pretty for him. He showed up in his luxury car at the appointed time, Helmut was always so punctual. You sat down next to him and gave him a small peck.

"Where are we going?" You asked as you fastened your seatbelt.

"A surprise." He whispered with a false air of mystery.

Helmut took you to the pier that night where a huge white yacht was waiting for you.

“My god” You sighed as you came across the grandeur of the yacht. Helmut stood beside you, his hand on your waist guiding you inside.

“Come, I want to show you everything.”

He introduced you to the deck, the captain's cabin, the crew, the room you would share for the night. After the short tour You sat at a table set on the deck with exquisite dishes under the starlight.

“What a great surprise.” You said with a big smile. “I’ve never been on a boat before.”

“It saddens my heart. A girl like you deserves everything the world has to offer.”

When he tells you this your heart jumps out of your chest. After all, no one had ever loved you like this to the point of spoiling you with such beautiful things. The moment of joy was replaced with sudden distress as You, for the first time, realized the vast difference in social class between You. Helmut was a fit, cultured and rich man. You were just a young thing without a family, education or job.

“Helmut.” You started talking. “What will happen to us?”

“What do you mean, darling?” He asked with a slight tilt of his head.

“It’s just…” You took a deep breath. “...we've been dating for a few months and I...it's just...We're so different.”

“Oh, my dear I know I'm too old for You.”

You scolded yourself for not being good with words and causing that misunderstanding. You didn't want to hurt him, so you recanted as quickly as you could.

"It's not that." You said it too loudly. “It’s just that you’re so rich and I’m me. I don’t even have my job anymore.”

"I know." He raised the glass of white wine to his lips. “I asked them to fire you, I didn’t want you working in that dangerous place with men of ill repute.”

“Helmut!” You exclaimed indignantly. “I needed that job. How will I support myself?”

"I will take care of you." There was a wild gleam in his eyes as he said this.

Maybe it was passion speaking too loudly, but you didn't question him any further and just allowed yourself to be taken care of by him. You talk that night, there was no room for silence at that table. He told him his story; about Sokovia, the Avengers, the prison, about Sam and Bucky and how he was now an international fugitive. In normal situations, an abrupt reaction would be expected, but you didn't do it. At that point, You were sure that you loved this man and that he loved you to the point of trusting You so much to tell him all his problems. You comforted him as he told you about his family buried in the rubble of New Gadi after the Avengers battle and the killer robot, Ultron, created by them.

You smiled beside him as he recounted the antics of his son, Carl. You comforted him when he shared a close bond with his father. When he started talking about his late wife with so much love and devotion a spark lit in You because of the way he spoke; Helmut exercised such devotion over the woman that she could be his own private goddess. You saw the sadness, longing and love run through his eyes. You ignored the jealousy and resentment by convincing yourself that she was dead.

“So, you’re telling me to run away alongside you?” You ask in disbelief. You were sitting on the deck floor, your legs spread across his lap, his hands lightly brushing your skin.

"Yes." He says with a mischievous smile. “There is nothing for You here. Come with me and I will give you everything.”

You accepted the invitation as there was nothing for You in Madripoor.

You guys spent a week or two, you're not sure, on the yacht going from place to place across the ocean. You and him talked a lot, drank a lot and fucked a lot. To his surprise, Helmut took her to Germany. You disembarked from the yacht on a Sunday night. On the way to the hotel You tried not to show all your perplexity at being in a completely new place. You had never left Madripoor before. The biggest surprise was the hotel he chose. With a huge reception, golden pillars and employees who guided you to your hotel room.

"Did you like it?" Helmut asked.

You didn't make a point of answering right away, you were too busy, impressed by the large windows with a privileged view of the city.

“I loved it” You shouted while jumping up and down with joy. Helmut laughed behind You at your excitement.

“I’m going to draw a bath. Then let's get some sleep. Tomorrow we need to buy clothes for You.”

“Uhm.” You murmured, still impressed by the grandeur of that room.

With your crazy and sudden impulse to go after one of the most wanted men in the world You didn't have time to grab clothes. Helmut assured You that your belongings in the old apartment would be well taken care of and that the expenses left by You would be paid. Although you were sad to leave some gifts he gave you in his old apartment, he assured you that he would give you others. During the yacht trip, You didn't miss his clothes, preferring to wear his shirts; Helmut had a lot of fun with your lack of underwear and it allowed him to fuck you everywhere on that yacht.

“The bath is ready.” Helmut announced from the bathroom.

With a burst of joy, you went to the bathroom, which turned out to be even more elegant and sophisticated than the large windows. You liked it and quickly got used to that life.

(...)

The time with Helmut was funny, everything seemed to move so slowly. You stayed in Germany for a year and six months, settling in the city of Munich in a small village far from the big center surrounded by trees and stone roads. Helmut was kind to you and taught you to speak fluent German, to dance and differentiate between the different forks that were on the table. He instructed you to go back to studying, although it wasn't his wish, he enrolled you in a semester-long fine arts course at the University of Munich. You didn't hate art, but you didn't identify with it enough to study the subject.

In the end, despite yourself, you took the course and finished it with honors and letters of recommendation for internships in galleries. Helmut was proud and to congratulate you he presented you with a new wardrobe of haute couture clothes. Your stay in Germany ended with the authorities discovering your existence in the country. You and Helmut fled in the early hours of the morning, heading straight to the airport where his private jet was waiting for you.

“We’ll be fine, my dear.” He said while hugging You.

Leaving Germany was difficult, as you left behind a few friendships and opportunities for a bright future. But You consoled yourself by remembering that you were with him, by his side, and wherever Helmut took you You would be okay.

The next stop was in Spain, on one of the Balearic Islands, where a small but luxurious house was waiting for you. You settled in quickly and to your surprise Helmut introduced you to the Oeznik family butler, an old man with a great sense of humor and loyalty.

“We can have pizza today, Oeznik.” You said as you walked around the kitchen with bare feet carrying dishes from one place to another.

“You should eat something healthier, my lady. You young people love to eat junk.” Oeznik said, watching You walk from one side to the other. “You won’t like your choice.”

“He will like it.” You guaranteed it. “I’m going to order a pizza.”

Oeznik was right that Helmut wouldn't like the pizza.

“You don’t like that kind of thing.” Said Helmut with clear mockery in his voice as You placed the slice in front of him.

"I love pizza." You said, trying to hide your discomfort. “We eat a lot of that in Madripoor.”

“Well, I took you for pizza in Venice and you hated it.” Helmut said with nostalgia in his voice. “You said mixing tomato sauce and pasta was a crime against nature.”

It was the first time Helmut looked at You with dazed eyes. As if he was not seeing You, but seeing someone else.

“We never went to Italy, Helm.” You mutter.

Helmut blinks rapidly as if trying to get something out of his mind and smiles in your direction.

“Let’s eat the pizza, little dove.”

The nickname was new, You noticed. That night you ate the pizza reluctantly, because with each bite a bitter taste formed in your mouth.

In the following months, Helmut was a very generous man towards You. He gave you a luxury apartment in Ibiza, created a bank account with $3,000,000 so that You could have a good life in case he was arrested again and enrolled you, again, in another semester arts course. You took the course reluctantly, because you didn't identify with it, but it made you happy so you were happy, and you had the advantage of learning a new language; Helmut joked about how smart You were at learning new languages in such a short time. To his delight, the course ended in exactly four months. You and he celebrated with a candlelit dinner by the sea.

"Marry me?" Helmut asked with his knees on the floor and a diamond ring in his hand.

"Yes." You said in one breath.

“Baroness Zemo.” He said as he put the ring on her finger. “I will make you very happy, little dove.”

You hugged him, kissed him and swore your eternal love to him. After dinner he dragged you back home; you walked through the door holding each other without separating your lips from each other. One moment you were on the stairs and the next you were in the bedroom. In bed, with a shirtless Helmut on top of you. His clothes disappeared. His panties and bra were the only things covering his body. His hands were touching you, exploring his skin while his lips devoured yours. Helmut knew what he was doing. He was reducing you to dust.

His hand grabs your panties, his finger trailing down your covered slit. A wet spot made him smile proudly.

“Always so wet for me, my little dove.” He whispered in her ear. You tried not to think about how much that nickname bothered you, but to your delight his fingers began to trace circles around your clit. Erasing everything from your mind. “Do you like this, little dove? Do you like how I make you feel?”

The lack of response made him accelerate his movements. His head spun at the sensation. He was torturing You; The moisture in her panties increased, creating a slight discomfort with the contact between the wet fabric and the hot flesh.

"Answer me. Use the damn words, little dove.” His voice was deep, his accent stronger and more authoritative.

“Yes, Helmut.” You said. He kissed you, his tongue finding its way to his.

He pulled away, kissing his way down to her covered breasts where he nibbled on her right nipple through the lacy fabric. You moaned loudly at the stimulation. He bent down completely, with his head between his legs, freed himself from her completely soaked panties. He brought his face closer to her wet pussy, inhaling her scent. He traced a line between her folds, playing with her pussy. Lick after lick, Helmut placed his lips on her folds and began to suck her clit.

You screamed at the quick action and pleasure. His fingers teased your entrance, slowly massaging your arousal until he finally slipped one of them inside and then another. Helmut had deliciously large fingers, bigger than his own, and he reached the g-spot with flying colors. The way he moved them, with such agility, was breathtaking. The established rhythm was specular. His fingers pumped in and out of You while his tongue stimulated your clit, making You feel better than ever.

Suddenly, he lifted his face away from You, but his fingers kept moving inside. His lips glistened with a mixture of his own saliva and his arousal. That and the damn smile on his face made her belly tighten.

“Enjoy little dove.”

The tightness in his stomach intensified, a tingling started from the tips of his toes, went up his legs, going to his stomach causing an explosion of pure ecstasy. You felt his soul leave his body for a few seconds and return. You were stuck in your little world of satisfaction as Helmut got rid of his pants and underwear. He placed himself on top of you, both hands rested on the sides of his face. The feeling of his dick, dripping with pre-cum, made You look down.

Helmut had a dick that was large in length and thickness, half tilted to the right, white and with a reddish head with a drop of pre-cum leaking out. You reached out to his arm and touched him. His breath hitched as his palm closed around his member to stroke it. His thumb slipped on the tip, making his dick twitch in circles in his hand.

"Little Dove." He groaned,

Her hand trailed up and down, down and up, pumping him as he grew harder and wetter. It was gentle touches, but it was driving him crazy. After some more stimulation, Helmut moved his hand away and positioned himself at her entrance. He spread her legs, with his right hand guided his cock between her slit. A brief lapse of consciousness appeared in his brain as he remembered the lack of protection. You didn't use contraceptives, as Helmut thought they were a poison bomb, always preferring to use condoms.

“Helmut.” You said between moans. “The condom...”

“We don’t need her.” He said come in and cuddles.

You moaned loudly when you felt him inside you. The feeling of having him without the latex was simply sublime. With quick movements, the head of his dick reached her spongy spot. The sensation of it made your eyes roll back, electricity course through your body aware of what his cock was doing. His legs opened wider for him. You felt it everywhere. The deeper he went, the more pleasure you felt. His hands grab his hair, pulling it lightly into fists.

Like the popping of a bottle You have, once again, reached climax. You have never been so satisfied in your life. Helmut fucked you like there was no tomorrow. You felt him go faster, riding out his own release, and when he finally did, releasing all of his semen inside of You a name escaped his lips.

“Heike.” He said between whispers and moans.

Helmut pulled out of You and rolled onto his side, falling asleep. You remain in bed, rubbing your face with your hands, hurt from hearing him cry out for the dead woman as he spilled himself inside you. It was an unraveling feeling, as if strong waves flooded your heart with sadness and disappointment. You even tried to convince yourself that you heard wrong. It wasn't her name, You thought. Maybe, it was something in his mother tongue that resembled his name, maybe he just blurted it out in his frenzy, maybe he didn't love you that much and thought about his wife every time You shared a bed.

At that moment, You found yourself crying yourself to sleep at the possibility of Helmut thinking about his late wife every time he was with You.

(...)

Things were great for a while. Helmut spoiled you, your stay in Spain increased, the preparations for the wedding were almost ready and sex became constant. You memorized the things Helmut loved during sex. The way he moaned when You were on your knees with his dick in your mouth, massaging his balls. The way his eyebrows do when You ride him. You even noticed how quickly he finished when You let him eat his anus. So things were great, but there was still growing discomfort.

Helmut still moaned for Heike every time he came. You decide to pretend not to notice his late wife's name slip past his lips every time. You just hid in the bathroom, with the shower running and burst into tears. You never imagined that being by his side would have you competing for affection with a dead woman. After all, she was rotting underground, while You were there in the prime of your youth with all the love and affection to give. You just suppressed all those feelings and pretended everything was fine, pushing all those thoughts away and convincing yourself that he loved you. When you were convinced of this, you would take a long shower to hide your swollen face and leave the bathroom with a big smile.

The wedding took place in mid-July, the seventeenth to be exact. You exchanged your vows in a minimalist ceremony with the presence of Oeznik, a priest and a justice of the peace to establish the prenuptial agreements.

“I promise to love, respect you and make you happy for the rest of our lives.” Helmut recited the vows while placing the ring on her finger.

“I promise to love you, respect you and yours until death do us part.” You recited your vows when you put the ring on his finger.

“You can kiss the night.” Said the priest.

Helmut kissed you with so much passion that you truly believed again that he loved you. The party was held at home, a dinner between the two of you, just to celebrate the union of two souls. Due to his fugitive status, he was not allowed more than that.

Married life was easy. You instructed the servants how to take care of the house, you often went to the beauty salon to look beautiful and you had sex with your husband whenever asked. You could live like this for the rest of your life next to him if it weren't for Heike's growing presence in your lives. After being married for a while, being called Heike didn't just extend to bed, but to everyday life. The first time was during a walk through the streets of Barcelona.

“I love this coat.” You pointed to a window where a mannequin was dressed in a cloth coat with colorful abstract designs.

“It’s so messy.” He said. “I thought you liked more minimalist clothes.”

“Helmy.” You groaned. “I love messy clothes. What would our lives be without neon clothes and red boots?”

He laughed at your words and said something that would break your heart forever.

“You look so different, Heike.”

Your eyes burned into his dark ones, anger welled up inside You, ready to explode like a volcano. You let out a nervous sigh as you feel tears start to well up in your eyes. You try to swallow the solutions that reached your throat.

“I...” He starts to say, taking a step forward to take you in his arms, but you move away, shaking your head.

“No, don’t you dare apologize.”

You leave him standing on the sidewalk and run in the opposite direction, blending into the crowd. You spent the whole day on the streets trying to forget the humiliation and pain caused in your heart. After a long period of walking and reflection, you convince him that everything is fine and that he loved you for who you were. You came home at night and found him in the living room. Helmut walked up to You hoping to apologize.

"Everything is fine." You said.

You took one more look at him before going up to the bathroom and locking yourself in there. You turned on the shower and burst into tears and sobs. Deep down, you knew, you always knew. He didn't love you. He tried to turn You into his dead wife; with the art courses, the language classes, the new clothes, the strange nicknames. You were just a substitute, an object to replace what he had lost.

You took a long shower, got dressed in comfy pajamas, and did your nightly skin care routine. When going down the stairs that led to the room You found Helmut walking with a pizza box in his hand towards the stairs. He stopped and smiled when he saw you.

“I ordered pizza, my favorite.”

Oh! That nickname. It had been so long since he called you that.

"I like pizza." You whispered.

"I know." He responded equally in a whisper. “I want to spoil you tonight. I’ll start with the food.”

You smiled at his gesture. You sat by the fireplace where you ate pizza and wine, talked banal things and laughed at silly things. When they finished, Helmut took you to the bedroom where he mounted you and fucked you hard. When he came it was his name that left your lips, You were happy about that. It was his name he said and not hers, but his happiness was short-lived. For in his sleep Helmut cried out to her. By Heike.

You got up and walked to the bathroom where you cried through the night, returning to bed before sunrise. When the day started, You just went downstairs, smiled and shared breakfast next to him. He didn't bring it up and you pretended everything was fine. He still said her name at inopportune moments where you pretended not to hear. His trips to the bathroom at night were becoming more and more frequent.

(...)

You and Helmut migrated to another country. You didn't know the exact location, but according to Oeznik, you were close to what would have once been Sokovia. You have settled into an immense residence, with several bedrooms, bathrooms and living rooms worthy of the title of Baron. The property was large; surrounded by trees and high walls with large silver gates.

"It's so big!" You exclaimed as you got out of the car and came across the mansion. “I’ve never seen a house as big as this one.”

“It’s been in my family for generations.” Helmut said. “I had to rebuild it after the fall of Sokovia, but here we are. You need to see your new home, Baroness.”

Helmut guided you inside where a line of employees waited for you. He introduced you one by one and indicated their services.

“They are here to serve your Baroness.” He whispered in her ear. “I know you will be a great lady for this property.”

“Yes” You mumbled. “I’m going to be a good lady.”

You really were a good lady; The employees tolerated you and things went reasonably well. However, the comparisons with the old lady still echoed between the walls, although Oeznik tried to hold the servants' tongues, it was not uncommon. You heard whispers among them about how Mrs. Heike had more class, how Mrs. Heike knew the Baron's tastes, how Mrs. Heike was beautiful, just as Mrs. Heike had given birth to a healthy boy. You tried to persuade Helmut to fire them, but he disapproved saying how difficult it was to find trustworthy people with his current fugitive status, he said that the former employees were trustworthy and Sokovia's last legacy. You just accepted your situation by hiding in the bathroom every time you heard her name echo.

“What was she like?” You questioned Oeznik one day as you walked through the estate. You felt trapped inside the house and decided to walk a little, Oeznik offered to keep you company.

“Madam...” said the old man with a clear sign of reprimand.

“Everyone loved her.” A bitter taste formed in his mouth. “Please tell me about him.”

“She was pretty.” He started to say. “She had noble blood in her veins and class in her feet. Their marriage was arranged, like all Sokovian royal marriages, but it worked. The young Baron loved her as soon as he saw her.”

You felt your throat close and your stomach tighten with the jealousy that formed.

“Did Helmut love her?”

"Yes."

You felt her eyes burn. You didn't know why she felt this way now, You knew how important she had been, the most important in Helmut's life, and there You were, wallowing in her insecure questions. His body shuddered in the icy breeze.

“Do I look like her?”

You needed to sink even deeper with your damned questions, which you knew the answer to, but you needed to hear it from someone else to torture yourself even more.

“A little, ma’am.” Oeznik seemed hesitant to continue. “You have similar trajectories, I would say. The courses taken in Germany and Spain, the way he dresses and even the necklace around his neck, it was the same necklace that the young Baron of Heike wore when he made their courtship official. He also called her his little dove.”

You let out a nervous sigh, barely holding back the tears. You turn and walk quickly towards the house, leaving the old butler behind. You feel your heart slowly submerge under the waves of pain. Your nimble feet guide you to a familiar place, the bathroom. You pass through the long corridors and the employees who whisper about your deplorable state. Reaching the bathroom door was a relief, because as soon as you reached the door, tears fell from your eyes.

Your mind reflects on how, little by little, Helmut turned you into her. He instructed you to dress like her, to study like her, to be like her. You were just a clay doll in the hands of the skilled sculptor to be sculpted to his whim. You wanted to leave, get as far away from him as possible, but as you stood there, feeling your heart breaking, you realized you couldn't leave. The love you felt for him kept you together, even the mention of leaving him could open a wound in your soul that You were fighting to stop.

After the tears dried, You performed your usual ritual; shower, cleanse and go downstairs as if nothing was happening. As if your soul wasn't broken, your bones aching and your heart stabbed. You found Helmut in his office carrying papers back and forth. He smiled when he saw you and patted your thigh indicating for you to sit there. You sat up and snuggled in, placing your face in his neck, inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne.

“Helmut.” You mumbled. "You love me?"

“Of course I love dove.” He kissed her forehead and turned his attention back to the papers.

Little dove, little dove, little dove, little dove, little dove. That word echoed in your ears and you bit your tongue to avoid crying.

The days passed quickly when You established a routine. You alternated between instructing the employees and paying attention to Helmut. Comparisons with the former lady seemed to have diminished drastically; Helmut no longer cried out to her in his dream, and the servants no longer whispered. You knew that there was a finger of the old butler behind this, but you chose to believe that it wasn't that. You preferred to believe that you had finally achieved your rightful place in Helmut's heart and the full respect of the employees. His trips to the bathroom no longer existed, that is, more or less. You no longer went to the bathroom to cry, but you often went to the bathroom to vomit.

It happened on a Saturday morning. You woke up early and left Helmut sleeping in bed, you walked to the kitchen to eat something since your stomach demanded food. You found a loaf of bread on the counter, when you put it in your mouth a wave of nausea came and you ran to the bathroom. After that morning you vomited for any nonsense.

"Enough." Helmut exclaimed when he saw you kneeling on the toilet putting out all the dinner. “We’re going to the doctor now.”

"It is not necessary." You said. "I am..."

You were interrupted by another wave of nausea where you let it all out again. The next day, the doctor came and diagnosed you with severe food poisoning; He recommended drinking plenty of fluids, avoiding heavy foods and using lactobacilli. You followed all the recommendations, but the nausea continued and with it came other symptoms; her blood pressure plummeted with every movement, her breasts felt like they wanted to explode, her period didn't start, the cramps kicked her ass and the fatigue was constant.

You spent half the day sleeping and the other half vomiting. It wasn't uncommon for Helmut to find you dozing in some corner of the house; You once dozed off while eating dinner. Helmut called the doctor again, this time; he diagnosed you with a virus. You constantly took anti-flu medications, drank lots of water and ate foods rich in fiber and vitamins. But the symptoms didn't go away at all. Helmut was visibly irritated by the doctor's incompetence in curing you.

On a Monday morning, you were in the kitchen devouring bread filled with ketchup and peanut butter; You had woken up that morning with a strange desire and decided to fulfill it, the crazy mixture proved to be delicious. A maid, named Jenna, found you in the kitchen eating your strange food.

"Madam." Greeted Jenna. “Can I help you with something?”

"Don't worry." You said with your mouth full. “I just felt like eating bread with ketchup and peanut butter. I must be going crazy, but this feels so good.”

“Are you having cravings?” The maid asked.

"Yes. Cravings, nausea, sleepiness and sore nipples. The doctor said it has a virus, but nothing is helping.”

You took a generous bite of your bread as Jenna seemed to ponder something.

“Did you take a pregnancy test?”

Her throat closed and you choked on a piece of bread stuck in your throat. Jenna ran to help you. You coughed, watered, and sniffled as you choked on the piece of dough. After the feeling passed, you looked at the maid in disbelief that she would suggest something so absurd.

"Do not say silly things. I can’t be pregnant.”

"Why not? She is a married woman. I'm sure the Baroness has been fulfilling her duties as a wife.”

Sex in your marriage was one thing You couldn't complain about. Helmut fucked you often and always ejaculated inside you; the use of condoms was no longer necessary. It wasn't in her plans to be a mother one day, but the idea of carrying a part of her and Helmut in her womb caused good feelings.

“Jenna.” You started talking. “I could go into town and buy some pregnancy tests.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Jenna brought five pregnancy tests from different brands. You used them all and to her surprise, all five gave a positive signal. You look down, moved by what you see and convinced yourself that you wanted this. With the tests in hand, You want this more than you could ever imagine. Your smile is dulled by the tears that fall silently on your features, You needed to tell him.

He loved you, the life you built together and he loved children. The loss of his son broke a part of him that he could never get over. Now, You had the chance to make him happy again, rebuild a new family. For hours, trapped in the bathroom, you try to gather the courage to tell him. Every time the time approached, you found excuses not to leave. But his plans were thwarted by a knock on the door.

“Little dove, are you there?” It was Helmut's voice behind the door. “Are you sick again? I will call the doctor.”

"No." You screamed, feeling despair flood your senses.

You didn't want him to find out like this, it wasn't fair. You would prepare a space moment where the news would be given and celebrated with kisses. You hide the pregnancy tests in a drawer full of towels and open the door to find him.

"Everything is fine?" He questioned worriedly.

“It’s okay” You reassured him. “Only one got sick quickly.”

“Come on, let’s get something to eat.” You followed him, dinner went well with conversations and jokes between you.

Keeping the secret proved difficult since every time you saw him you wanted to shout from the rooftops about your pregnancy. With Oeznik's help, you prepared a special night for you, complete with typical Sokovian food. It would be simple, Helmut would arrive at home at night where you would have dinner and then you would tell him the news. You took the day to take care of yourself, wanting to look pretty for him, you prepared your hair, did your nails and wore a beautiful purple dress, Helmut's favorite color.

You turned around to admire your appearance in the mirror, it looked beautiful. Her hands caressed her still unchanging stomach, feeling a mix of emotions for generating life in her womb. A silly smile formed on his lips as he imagined how good it would be to have a little boy or girl running down these long corridors with black hair and brown eyes like Helmut's. The feeling was interrupted by knocking on the door.

“Madam, the Baron has already arrived and is in his office.” It was Jenna. “Should I serve dinner?”

"Yes. Serve dinner and release other employees. I want to be alone with my husband today.”

Jenna left leaving You alone in the room. One last look at your reflection, You left the room heading towards the stairs. Your intention was to go to the dining room, but somehow You ended up passing through a door. Behind her were pictures, books and a large Persian rug. Adornments that probably dated back to the medieval age. The house was big and even after so long You hadn't seen all the rooms, it was not uncommon to get lost between the different doors that led to uninhabitable rooms.

Before You have the chance to turn around, voices reach your ears. The nature of the noises was obvious and, from the sounds, they were both having a serious conversation. You recognized Oeznik's soft voice followed by Helmut's Eastern European accented voice. You tried to find the source of the voice and came across a false wall with a vast view of Helmut's office, he and Oeznik seemed immersed in conversation.

"This is not right." Oeznik exclaimed.

You froze in your spot. The old butler never got excited, he always kept a soft and friendly voice. You decided to listen to more of the conversation.

“She is my wife.” Helmut said. “I will do whatever I want.”

“Turn her into the late Mrs. Zemo? For God's sake Helmut. This isn’t doing her any good, the employees comment on her constant trips to the bathroom to cry.”

You wanted to leave, get as far away from them as possible. But as you lay there, holding a piece of your heart, You realized you couldn't move.

“She is not Heike. She never will be.”

Every word that came out of his mouth was meant to hurt you whether intentionally or not. You held firm as you wanted to see where this would lead. You hear Helmut sigh and the echoing words break you forever.

“You have no idea how many times I imagined it was Heike next to me. How many times have I called for her. I almost asked if I could call her that, but instead I did it without permission. I never wanted her, not really. I just thought I would have another chance and I actually did; They are so similar physically and it was easy to compel her to do things that pleased me.”

Helmut was cruel. Helmut never loved You. He played with your heart for his own benefit. Deep down, you always knew, preferring to deceive yourself with small gestures of apology and accepting to play the role of the dead woman. He molded her like a little doll so she wouldn't be alone. He never saw you as a companion, a mind or a human being. You were just a substitute and the child You carried in your womb would soon play the role of the lost son.

A sudden pain hit his chest; his heart was no longer in place. The other times he broke your heart were nothing compared to this. The more his words stuck in her mind, the more intense the pain became. Waves of shock and grief hit his chest as You tried to process what was happening.

His feet retreat, your shaky legs failing as you try to move. One wrong move causes you to fall against a dresser that falls to the floor, causing a loud noise. You hear a surprised gasp from Helmut and, unfortunately for You, he emerges through a false door. With all the strength you have left, you turn to see him.

“Baby” You heard him whisper.

His eyes connect; he knew You had heard every word. His expression reflected the one You had when you heard them. The shock, the surprise and the sadness. He saw the pain on his face, the way you held on to a piece of furniture to keep from collapsing. A flash of regret ran through his eyes when he saw how you grabbed the necklace around his neck. The necklace that belonged to her, the damned Heike. The necklace that, even though he knew what it meant, never left his neck so as not to hurt him.

You lost yourself over the years to make him happy. You allowed yourself to have your heart crushed multiple times just to satisfy you and receive nothing but disappointment in return. He never cared about you and he would never care about the child that was forming in your womb.

“Let’s talk.” You heard him beg. “Let’s order pizza and talk about it.”

You didn't let out a tear when you heard his apology. You also didn't cry when you ripped the necklace from your neck and threw it towards him. You didn't cry when you went upstairs and locked yourself in your room. You didn't cry when Helmut desperately banged on the door clamoring for your attention. You didn't cry, not even when you made the decision to leave, packing all your clothes, shoes and jewelry in your suitcases ready to leave forever; You no longer cried for Helmut J. Zemo. He could go fuck himself for everything he caused you.

(…)

Waking up the next day was relatively easy. You got up, brushed your teeth, skin care routine, passport, suitcases and handbag with intimate items. Everything was in its right place. You closed your bags and left them next to the door. A quick look at the clock you had on your dresser indicating that it was not long before you left that place and never came back. You opened the bedroom door and allowed two servants to enter who took your bags.

“Put them in the car, boys.” You instructed.

"Yes ma'am." They said together leaving the room with their bags.

One last look at the room, You walked out the door heading towards the stairs. You found the bastard at the foot of the stairs waiting for you. He had a swollen face, indicative of a bad night's sleep, with messy hair, something so unusual for him. A part of You liked seeing him so broken. Helmut was selfish and evil. You put an end to his selfishness and evil.

"Let me pass." You demanded the moment he stood in front of you, blocking your exit.

“Please let me...”

“Whatever You have to say, I don’t want to hear it. Get out of my way let me go, stop being such an idiot.”

His own words surprised him. You never had the strength to face him, not really, nor to release the anguish you felt for so long. Your words were met with silence, none of You dared to speak. His breathing became heavy, after a few minutes, Helmut finally gave in and broke the silence.

"Sorry." He whispers.

“That doesn’t solve anything.” You snort.

"I know." he says. "Where are you going?"

Maybe it would be better to just turn around and walk away, before the conversation gets worse. That would have been the right thing to do. Unfortunately, the sadness was not motivated by reason.

“You are a patient and persistent man, I know you will figure it out on your own.”

"Do not go, please." He begged. "Please, do not go. Do not leave me alone. Stay. I will improve how I treat myself and I will never hurt you again. I love you dear."

On a normal day you'd go back to him for a lot less. A few days ago, you would have given him everything, without a doubt. But now, the devotion You had for him was buried. A high wall was built around his heart and not even the warmest words could break it down.

"Stay." He begged again. “It will be different.”

Helmut's love was strange. He appeared to be generous, but he was destructive and cruel. He never had anything to give you other than scraps; it was easy to let yourself be fooled with good charisma. A part, deep in his head, begged you to come back to him. But it wasn't fair to You to allow yourself to live all of this once again and it wouldn't be fair to the child You were carrying. Helmut was not worthy of You, he was not worthy of his son, he was not worthy of anything. You had to save yourself, You had to save what little was left of your heart.

"No."

With the final word You left without looking back. Carrying with him a son that Zemo wouldn't live with, he didn't deserve this, he didn't deserve anything that came from You. One day, with persistence, he would discover the existence of a child conceived by you, but it wouldn't be You who would tell. As the car drives, you lean your head against the window, caress your stomach and allow yourself to dream of a day that would open your heart again.

[pulcheriebalhoud]

Club Sounds Vol.17 - CD2 The Bumpin' Cuts

[wilcze-kudly]

What are your favorite Beifong family headcanons?

Oooh that's a great ask. I have a lot of headcanons and I'm pretty sure I've talked about them a lot at least a few times, but I've tried to condense them as best I could!

I've rambled about my headcanons surrounding seismic sense but here's some more. The twins and Huan learnt seismic sense very early on in their lives and were provably encouraged to lean into it. Huan particularly has very well developed seismic sense. To the point where it makes him uncomfortable and he tends to shy away from using it by wearing thick socks or shoes.

When Kuvira first arrived to Zaofu, she didn't really get along with Baatar Jr. I can see Baatar Jr being very protective of Opal, since they were the two nonbenders of the family. I can see him not looking too kindly at whom he saw as his mother's attempt at having a "better daughter".

Kuvira and the twins are permanent parts of Suyin's dance troupe. (Canon for Kuvira.)

Due to not having much interaction with people outside the family, the Beifong kids are/were super close. Which leads to even more pain as they slowly untangle and mature.

They were also very close with the staff that worked at the manor and other of their family friends, due to this being their only social interactions outside family. Aiwei and the Chef (he only calls himself chef and never reveals his real name cause he used to be a pirate and is wanted in all four nations) are basically surrogate uncles to the kids.

It having been just the six of them, i can see it being hard for them to fully interact with new people.

Huan wanted to be a doctor as a kid and pretended to do operations on his siblings. Their father, a renown architect, even built them a little play hospital. The other Beifongs... weren't fans.

Kuvira enjoys bubble baths. That's it.

Wei collects crystals and cool looking rocks, similairly to how Su collects meteors. He's a nerd about it too. He has several opals and whenever he's in an argument with Opal he will dramatically move them to the back of his collection.

One of my fave silly headcanons/theories is Baatar Sr being Suki and Sokka's kid. Like, I know it's very unlikely, but it is a lovely idea in my head and I could ramble about it all day. I don't see a lot of people talking about it. I see plenty of people using Suyin's sons looking like Sokka as proof that Su is a Tokka baby, however the Beifong boys actually resemble their father a lot. Also I have plenty headcanons around this idea and Suki would be an epic grandma. Kyoshi warrior Opal (and the twins). Living in my head rent free. Forever.

Wing and Opal formed a little book club and like reading together/talking about books they've read. Their siblings aren't allowed to join. One time Kuvira and Wei crashed the little meeting and Wing was so offended he pretended to run away and join the circus.

When they were children, Kuvira was the ringleader for sure. She'd take the much more well behaved Beifong kids on wild adventures, after which they'd come back to the house covered in mud.

Wing is hard if hearing. Comes from that one scene where he sent Lin and Su to their deaths after misshearing Mako.

Aiwei was the first one to encourage Huan to pursue his artistic talents and most of Huan's first works are still in Aiwei's house.

Wei is named after Aiwei, but they already had a Juniour in the family, so he was named an abbreviation of his namesake.

Aiwei ultimately regrets betraying the Beifongs, to teh point where his nightmares in the Fog of Lost souls are about the Beifongs.

Can't believe Zaheer sent the only confirmed gay man ever shown on screen to super hell. Homophobia at its finest

Ugh you don't know how happy getting asks about the Beifong family makes me. Sorry if these were more focused on the Zaofu crew, I know they're not as popular as Lin and Toph but they are my faves.

[writingbyshiloh]

I Love as Madly as I Hate

CW: JW universe (blood, reader kills and gets stabbed), ANGST!, Reader wears a dress, verbal fighting, dead marrage, Vincent being a dick and no beta (and Grammarly gave up halfway through), One sentence in French which means “leave us alone”, implied smut

AN: I hope this is angst, I don't really read angst myself. I overthought the tense this is in so much that words don't make sense anymore. FUN FACT! The title is from Les Fleurs du Mal which I want to have made an appearance in the other Marquis fic but I thought the title was fitting.

The bounty amount is in the sweet spot. High enough that it’s worth the effort, but not too high that half the world would also be trying to bag them with you. The only problem was with who set the bounty. That would be your ex, of six months. Well technically he's still considered your husband, and you were still legally married.  

That was your fault, bringing up the idea of a divorce, and waiting for him to sign. Wanting to get one last dig in while still married, you act surprised, reminding him he can’t get a second marriage, second changes are for men who failed the first time, remember? He took the papers from your hand, never for you to see again. Sometimes you think he burned them. 

The hit was for a mob member - Lukas Matthews, young and new to the underworld, not sure how things worked. He stole from one of his bosses, an acquaintance of Vincent. The younger mob man was distracted by all things flashy, expensive, and pretty. 

You didn’t have any trouble donning a sparkly dress, paying admittance to some dive club to stalk the man. As long as you push down the feeling that you were really just doing this to get a glimpse of Vincent, it was okay. Great even. Maybe if you were a normal person you could just call him. 

You watch the target for a while, sipping on soda from the bar so you could blend in. The man was still with his friends, and you figured it would be easier to take him when he was alone, probably outside, away from the other members of his group or innocent partygoers. 

—. 

Lukas ultimately lost, but he fought nasty. Maybe you were still rusty. The rest of your night now consisted of trying to patch up yourself or trying to find a black market doctor to fix you, depending on how bad your shoulder gets.

You were littered with scrapes, small cuts and sore muscles, but your shoulder got the worst of the battle. Lukas managed to cut quite deep with a broken beer bottle. Once it heals it will be a reminder of all the things you do to try and convince yourself that you’re over your husband. 

Pain flared every time you moved your shoulder, the wound being an inch or two below your collarbone left you trying to keep half your body still. You settle on taking Lukas’s hand, with the mob tattoo. You and Vincent know members of that mob would rather die than cut off their symbol. 

With the body shoved against a trash can, you place a few garbage bags to cover the mess. The hardest part of the evening was still to come. With your good hand, you fish out your phone from your bag. 

—

You assume he is attending some ballet dance or performance. You felt a bitter twist of jealousy. Was he there with someone? Has he moved on that fast? You think mind racing. When you texted the Accountants that you completed the bounty, you received a call from Chidi. 

“I hear you collected the bounty. Do you have proof of death?” he questioned. 

“I do. I have the hand with the tattoos, but the body’s here I can get something else” you rambled down the line, suddenly much more nervous than before. 

“Please hold.” 

The line was quiet, you watched people come and go from the club, secluded from the side street you were in. Backtracking into the club, hand in your bag you returned your coat check ticket. At least the jacket will cover up the bleeding, you can get the bounty and go home. 

“Hello?” Chidis's voice returned. 

“Yeah, I'm here.” 

“Tell me your address, the Marquis de Gramont will be sending a car.” 

—

The Marquis de Gramont looked amazing. He tried to always look his best in his suits, complete with an incredibly complicated knot, chains, and his signature pin. You still have your pin, hidden in a shoe box in your closet. Tonight was no exception to his looks. 

His suit was reflecting the lights in his mansion. You knew from the glitter, this was a suit he would were at a cultural outing. Bitter jealousy bites at your insides. Was he there with someone? Did he move on that fast? Is it a mistress? You think. The jealousy dies when you still see his wedding ring on his left hand. Your wedding ring feels heavier on your right. 

You both look at each other, his gaze lingering on your exposed legs, no doubt covered in blood. You felt exposed standing in the center of the large room. 

Vincent was the one to break the silence first “Did I buy you that dress?”

“No. I’ve had it for a while” 

He nods, stepping closer. 

“Proof?” 

You frown thinking he was asking about the dress, before remembering the severed hand. 

“It's here. Tattoos and all.” you struggle to get the appendage out of your bag without moving your bad shoulder. At least you had the sense to wrap the hand in a plastic bag. 

“Come to my office. We can talk in there” 

You do not want to “talk in his office”. The last time, you went to “talk in his office” about a bounty it ended up with you naked on his desk, the cold chain from his suit vest and his ring pressed against you. 

“I should go. You can just wire me the money or something” You reject. 

You can tell you surprised him before his face shifts back to a more neutral expression. 

“I have a nasty scratch so…” you trail off, hoping he leaves the issue. 

His gaze almost softens. The separation was less than a year ago, you guess that he still cares for you. He still keeps tabs on you, your neighbour works for him you’re almost certain of it. 

“Where?”

You gesture with your chin to your shoulder. 

The pressure from his stare makes you break down and shrug off your jacket, the inside sticky with blood. 

Already he is in front of you, pressing a cloth against your wound. 

“You need to see the doctor, mon amour.” 

You hate yourself for leaning into his touch, but at least he has good contacts for an underground doctor. It won’t be that hard to get in and out right?

—

The doctor arrived fast, not wanting to piss off the Marquis. You knew him from your early days of dating, long before your marriage, when Vincent insisted you quit. You wonder if the doctor remembers you. If he does, he doesn’t show it. 

You just didn’t think Vincent was going to join you. He watches the doctor tend to your shoulder first, sewing neat rows of stitches to hold your flesh in place. You stare at your jacket on a spare chair, no doubt forever stained in blood. The good doctor already gave a warning about closing your eyes, so you keep your gaze on the jacket, your nails on your good hand leaving imprints on the chair arm from the tension between you and Vincent. 

The doctor moves on to more minor wounds, mostly cleaning them, and patching them up if needed. Ignoring your soft hiss when the cleaner he is using hurts more than you expected.

Vincent is watching the doctor, scowling when you flinch in pain. 

The instant the doctor pushed the tray with his tools and bloody tissues away, Vincent speaks for the first time since the three of you sat down.

“Laissez-nous seuls” 

The doctor protests, wanting to give you instructions on caring for his work, making sure you don’t rip anything open. 

Vincent glares at the doctor, who places down some gause for you to take home and leaves without another word, closing the door behind him. 

The Marquis drops to his knees for a better look at your injury. One hand cups the back of your shoulder blade to keep you still, as he inspects you. You’re sure you smell disgusting, the smell of the bar soaked into your dress and your hair. The doctor cleaned up most of the blood, but Vincent never really cared about literally getting his hands bloody if the time was right. He would just wipe them on a cloth and toss it aside for one of his housekeepers to pick up. 

You turn your whole face away, as much as your shoulder will let you, sure he can feel how hot your face is across the distance. The feel of his eyes is heavy, and almost magnetic, pulling you to look at him. His other hand is on the armrest of your chair. 

“Don’t,” you said softly, trying to preserve any of the dignity that you had left. 

“Don’t what, mon amour” he whispered, still looking at your shoulder. 

“This.” You were mostly saying this to yourself, knowing that you only had seconds to get out of his personal space before you give in. You’re tired and hurt and he's right there, acting how he did when you first fell in love with him. 

You tilt your head back almost automatically to give him more access to your throat. He moved slowly, pressing kisses against your jaw like it would be the last time, before working his way to your mouth and kissing you properly. 

—

It’s like a bomb waiting to go off, not only having sex with him but also having to navigate yourself out of his bed without one of you making a gripe at the other. 

Well, not technically his bed. This was yours, in a guest room you made your own while being married, now empty. You moved your stuff out during the separation. Sometimes you regret not taking the bedclothes with you, but now you’re thankful you can feel them, cool and soft against your skin. 

You had no choice but to stay lying on your back, trying to keep your injury still. He was next to you in the same fashion. 

“You are still wearing your ring.” He speaks quietly. As if to prove his point, he toys with your wedding band. 

“I helped design it, of course, I’m going to show it off,” you reply not being able to look him in the eye. 

He kissed the back of your hand.  

“I believe I designed it, you just suggested the stones.” 

Hand flexed to fully show off the stones, you had to agree. 

The stones were suggested by you, on a date to le Musée de Minéralogie. It was just the two of you, and you had been taken with the rubies. Vincent walked alongside you, filling you in on information you might not have known. It was an off-handed comment from you, how red is a colour for both blood and love, very fitting in your line of work. 

“You have good taste,” he says while you think had instead. 

His hand skimmed your bare side, nimble fingers finding a small bump that was not there before your flight with Lukas. 

You flinched at the dull pain, not surprised if he “accidentally” poked it. 

“You should let me take care of you, mon amour.” 

That was it. The same words that started and ended your marriage. Being taken care of by Vincent made you feel like a doll, sitting on a shelf, never allowed to do anything. 

“Vincent,” You spoke with caution, the pain slowly seeping back into your body.

He held your chin gently, commanding your gaze to look at him. You softened looking at him. 

“It is true. Do you think I like seeing you like this?” he asks. 

“I don’t know what you like” you retort, steeling yourself for the argument to come. 

“I like you.” 

“Oh, you do? Is that why you made me quit bounty work?” you snap. 

“I asked you to stop because you're not very good at it and I did not want a dead fiancé.” 

Ouch. 

“If you were a better fighter, you would take higher bounties.” 

You don’t look at him as you leave the bed. You know he's sneering at you. 

But you’re not going to shrink away even though you’re naked. You know you have to get dressed in front of him but you can put on a brave face.

 “Thanks for this lovely reminder of why our marriage failed.” You spit out. You know the failed comment will piss him off. 

You leave without a second look, cheap shoes squeaking against the floor. 

—

You felt the lock slide open under the key, your apartment slightly cold and quiet. You still smelled like his cologne, only now the smell reminds you of the recent bitter memories. You discard your bag as you make your way to your bed in your apartment. Away from Vincent. 

As you take off your dress for the second time you feel your phone buzz. 

[Unknown number: Wire Transfer Sent. Deposit for Lukas is confirmed.]

Seeing him mixed with the rush of adrenaline after the fighting was too much, especially with the separation so fresh. Maybe he was right. Maybe you should go after higher bounties, especially not those set by him. 

Taglist: @heartrot666, @soraya-daydreams

[vintagelasvegas]

New Town Tavern, 600 Jackson Ave, Las Vegas, in 1967. Photo by Clinton Wright. One of the oldest clubs in Las Vegas, destroyed by fire 10/15/2023.

Town Tavern was opened Jul. ‘55 by owners Marie and Earl Turmon, locals who lived at nearby 708 Madison. In its heyday of the late 50s the 24-hour bar, casino, and coffee shop was central to Westside’s nightlife scene. After the closure of the Moulin Rouge in Fall ’55, Town Tavern became the main Westside destination for black performers who were headlining the segregated Strip hotels.

Nat King Cole, Sammy Davis Jr, Cab Calloway, Arthur Lee Simpkins, Bob Bailey, Dorothy Dandridge, and the Ink Spots all performed in a single night during an NAACP cocktail party in Dec. '55. Review-Journal columnist Forrest Duke wrote of another night when, “Pearl Bailey and her Flamingo gang sashayed over to Earl Turmon’s Town Tavern Wednesday night, and the joint was, to put it rather mildly, jumping.” Another columnist’s blurb describes an employee’s going-away party with music by jazz musicians Christine Chatman (singer, piano), Al Morgan (bass), Chuck Hampton (drums), and Bob Bailey as emcee, “there with his lovely wife Anna who dances in the Pearl Bailey’s Flamingo show.”

The club became “New” Town Tavern in late ’59 and operated more or less continually until 2013. Westside's nightlife scene deteriorated in the 60s – the unplanned byproduct of integration was the decline in black gaming establishments, but Town Tavern remained. Florence Elmore owned the club in '70-71. Danny Curtis & Elijah Green bought the club in '71; Green was still the owner in the 80s, renovating and enlarging the club after a fire in '81. In the 90s it became “Ultra New” Town Tavern and continued operated under this name until closing.

Town Tavern originally had a top hat-shaped sign. Its second sign with "Town Tavern" in a ribbon and "Casino" in a circle, was installed in the early 60s and remained until 2023. In 2016 the words "Town Tavern" were replaced with "Tokyo" for a casino which ultimately never opened. The sign was removed from the building on 8/16/2023.

1967 photos from Clinton Wright Photographs (PH-00379), UNLV Special Collections & Archives.

Sources: "Opening.” Review-Journal, 7/6/55; “NAACP Plan Party for Sunday.” Review-Journal, 12/24/57; Forrest Duke. Review-Journal, 1/16/59; “Take Pickets Off Westside Casino Beat.” Review-Journal, 9/7/59; J. Berger. Black casinos flourished during days of segregation. Review-Journal, 11/10/75; “Arson suspected in tavern fire.” Review-Journal, 5/25/81; “West Las Vegas Casinos Have New Look – And Dreams.” Las Vegas Sentinel Voice, Vol. 4, Issue 25, 10/20/83; C. Drummond. 'It's a legend gone': Fire destroys Historic Westside building, and Clean up of Historic Westside building destroyed by fire. News3LV, 10/17/2023.

Note. Prior to Town Tavern, this corner 1400 F St. was the site of the earliest known Westside casinos. It was Shady Rest Barbecue, licensed for slot machines on 9/17/42, and Club Alabam, aka Smokey Joe's Club Alabama the following year. Fuller's Index of Nevada Gaming Establishments says the Club Alabam was licensed for 21 from 5/1/43 to 7/2/43. City Commission Meeting Minutes of 7/2/43 (p97) states that the liquor and gaming license of Joe LaDue at Club Alabam was denied. The club burned down 9/29/43. Liquor License. Review-Journal, 9/17/42; Westside Club Burns, Officers Say Incendiary. Review Journal, 9/29/43.

[gyunglitter]

introducing𓏧

the losers club !!

summary: just you dicking around with txt college!au besties

warnings: doja cat fandom slander, mentions of soobin's feet, mentions of bullying, cursing

contrary to your group’s self-appointed nickname, you guys are actually well known (and liked!) on campus!! :D

you guys have NO IDEA as to how so many people on campus grew to like you and want to hang out with you

especially since you guys had a hard time in school before

but woohoo to not peaking in high school right?!

tbh, you guys are testaments to that second round of puberty nobody talks about

ya know, the glow up that happens after you graduate high school and get away from all the pricks you were forced to see everyday?

yup, you and your losers are finally thriving

besides when you’re dying bc of all your classes and tests

but yeah

while other ppl really like your group’s personalities

YOU GUYS ARE SUPER HOT TOO🤭

i mean, just look at y’all!

[choi yeonjun]-

‘99 liner//junior

took a gap year before getting dragged back to go to school so he could learn to be a normal human being

did someone say IT BOY??

literally the girls and the gays are in love with this man

dance major and student athlete who unironically does zumba every saturday morning

had no social life in high school because kid was NEVER there

he was a bored only child, while his neglectful parents were filthy rich and figured their kid could do whatever he wanted to entertain himself

so what he wanted, they got it—including vacations

with him being gone so much, his classmates always wondered who this choi yeonjun guy was and how he could miss so much school while still passing

though the intrigue kind of stopped when he pulled up to school with the ugliest shoes to walk south korea

him and his obnoxious shoes gave a lot of people the ick :(

but never fear, yeonjun and his footwear are just ahead of their time!

(you can't say they are in quite yet, but they probably will come around some day!!)

yeonjun typically spent his days doing sports, travelling, and running away from talent scouts lmao

no idol life for him in THIS lifetime

but as life would have it, the man is too scrumptious to be out of the spotlight for too long

bc he became a model not too long after college started due to a school project photoshoot went viral on twitter!!

his twitter is a minefield while he reserves his insta for the wholesome content :)

[choi soobin]-

‘00 liner//junior

glue of the group despite insisting how much he HATES y’all

broadcast and entertainment major so he can get into the entertainment industry and get the bts of moviemaking!!

(really just wants to meet all of his favorite voice actors tbh)

known for being the Ultimate Boyfriend™ despite never actually being in a relationship lololol

in middle school he got into anime, which was COMPLETELY normal! he actually made a ton of friends that way!!

at least until one of his friends came over and saw his body pillow collection

yikes :/

unfortunately didn’t take long at all for the whole school to find out, and then they never let it go

all the way up until he graduated high school :(((

it’s okay tho!

he had tons of online friends from going to conventions and stuff!!

but making irl friends was definitely hard for him when he got to college

[choi beomgyu]-

01’ liner//sophomore

absolute MENACE to your little society

he’s the guy who gets whoever is in his company to unironically admit “last night was a movie”

music major studying composition while playing guitar in a band

the girlies are FAWNING

ppl are so in love with him because he’s so pretty

but then the kid opens his mouth :/

he was the most extroverted kid

which worked perfectly bc with his good looks and personality, everyone wanted to be his friend!! :D

but with high school, friends, and all his 100 extracurriculars

kid burned out by senior year :(

his last year of school, he totally ghosted his friends and stayed inside all day playing video games

(he actually got diamond 1 on LoL, boy is nothing if not determined)

eventually rumors went around that he got dropped and turned into a social outcast

but he didn’t really care since he was fine with rotting away the rest of the school year

by the time he got to college, he wanted nothing to do with things that would suck his already nonexistent energy

[kang taehyun]-

02’ liner//freshman

the one that always has the braincell

and really wishes he didn’t so he could escape yall

stem major for engineering, which is just another one of his controversial choices (being second only to befriending yall)

everyone on campus knows him as that one guy you go to when you need the answers to your homework or your final

yeah, he’s selling the test answers on the black market :P

what? he’s in DEBT

he never gets suspected tho bc he alrdy knows all the answers, so why would he be involved with that??

but the rest of the town?

well, the town knows him as terry

mans is always seen at the gym and the club pulling without even trying

this is TOTALLY contrasting to his high school life, where he literally only gave his time of day to his studies

mans did not have TIME to hang out with anybody

bc of this, he became a bit of an easy target to the one-dimensional jocks that tried to use him to get them better grades :(

he was a small kid, so he got picked on and tossed around a lot :(((

it’s okay, since he’s buffer than them now!! >:)

[huening kai]-

‘02 liner//freshman

maknae that’s more mature than ALL OF YOU

he acts like he isn’t, but kid grew up a MIDDLE CHILD between TWO SISTERS

they’d managed to craft the most perfect and thoughtful angel to grace south korea

except for his demonic laugh :/

but YOU GUYS LOVE IT!!

he’s coasting through college, wishing he could tell you what major he was

but boy is constantly changing it LMAO

he just loves learning about different subjects!!

not to mention he’s good at most things he tries

so he makes tons of friends!!

but he didn’t always :(

from middle to high school, he was THE band kid

he could play the guitar, percussion, trombone, and piccolo!!

so when little kai walked home in his minecraft hoodie carrying his giant instrument case

8/10 times kid would get pelted by eggs or something on the way home

good thing he had his trombone case to shield him!! :D

kai would also be insanely awkward and didn’t have good icebreakers besides his plushie collection

too bad that didn’t become socially acceptable for another few years

[y/l/n y/n]-

‘01 liner//sophomore

ladies and gentlemen i give you

her

the group's resident photographer, despite the fact that you're SO HOT

you are beauty

you are grace

well, you are now

high school: not so much

you were LOSER #1 girlie ://

you were just a little slow to pick up on a lot of social cues and what was "cool" or not, making you prone to awkward situations and bullying

for example: pinky promises and saying “on god” was quirky and acceptable, but spit shakes were not

neither were bowl cuts

or pretending to drown at the school pool and see how everyone would react

like i said, you were behind on a lot

but what took you the longest to learn—the people you thought were your friends were no longer laughing with you and your unfortunately timed puns, but at you (and your unfortunately timed puns) :(((

but you digress, because your overactive imagination worked to your advantage of getting clout and a full ride scholarship!!

you’re an art major with a minor in photography, winning a national photography contest that got the attention of your college

your genius piece of "different kinds of falls in public", where you purposefully tripped people walking by you and taking photos of them, had won the heart of the public and the school board over to the point of them begging to have you!

your parents and teachers just wished you had the same genius outside of cameras--as you slacked off in every other academic aspect

notes: enjoy me being unfunny but having a blast anyway! feel free to send in asks/requests regarding this fic. can't guarantee i'll respond to it, but i'd love to see what you guys think/want!

[revasserium]

the unofficial ultimate bungo stray dogs reading list

this is mainly for myself bc i rly do want to read most if not all of these and i'm sure it's already been done by someone somewhere. but, i thought why not post it lmao; most if not all of these can be found on anna's archive, z-library, or project gutenberg! (also, consider buying from your local bookstore!) for those that are a bit harder to find, i've included links, though some are from j-stor and would require login to access.

detective agency:

osamu dazai:

no longer human (novel)

the setting sun (novel)

nakajima atsushi:

the moon over the mountain: stories (short story collection)

light, wind and dreams (short story)

fukuzawa yukichi:

an encouragement of learning (17 volume collections of writings)

all the countries of the world, for children written in verse (textbook)

yosano akiko:

kimi shinitamou koto nakare (poem)

midaregami (poetry collection)

edogawa ranpo:

the boy detectives club (book series)

japanese tales of mystery and imagination (short story collection)

the early cases of akechi kogoro (novel)

kunikida doppo:

river mist and other stories (short story collection)

izumi kyouka:

demon lake (play)

spirits of another sort: the plays of izumi kyoka (play collection)

tanizaki junichirou:

the makioka sisters (novel)

the red roof and other stories (short story collection)

miyazawa kenji:

ame ni mo makezu; be not defeated by the rain (poem)

night on the galactic railroad (novel)

strong in the rain (poetry collection)

port mafia:

mori ougai:

vita sexualis (novel)

the dancing girl (novel)

nakahara chuuya:

poems of nakahara chuya (poetry collection)

akutagawa ryuunosuke:

rashoumon (short story)

the spider's thread (short story)

rashoumon and other stories (short story collection)

ozaki kyouyou:

the gold demon (novel)

higuchi ichiyou:

in the shade of spring leaves (biography and short stories)

hirotsu ryuurou:

falling camellia (novel)

tachihara michizou:

in mourning for the summer (poem)

midwinter momento (poem)

from the country of eight islands: an anthology of japanese poetry (poetry collection)

kajii motojirou:

lemon (short story)

yumeno kyuusaku:

dogra magra (novel)

oda sakunosuke:

flawless/immaculate (short story)

sakaguchi ango:

darakuron (essay)

the guild:

f. scott fitzgerald:

the great gatsby (novel)

the beautiful and the damned (novel)

edgar allen poe:

the raven (poem)

the black cat (short story)

the murders in the rue morgue (short story)

herman melville:

moby dick (novel)

h.p. lovecraft:

the call of cthulhu (short story)

the shadow out of time (novella)

john steinbeck:

the grapes of wrath (novel)

of mice and men (novel)

lucy maud montgomery:

anne of green gables (novel)

the blue castle (novel)

chronicles of avonlea (short story collection)

louisa may alcott:

little women (novel)

the brownie and the princess (short story collection)

margaret mitchell:

gone with the wind (novel)

mark twain:

the adventures of tom sawyer (novel)

adventures of huckleberry finn (novel)

nathaniel hawthorn:

the scarlet letter (novel)

rats in the house of the dead:

fyodor dostoevsky:

crime and punishment (novel)

the brothers karamozov (novel)

notes from the underground (short story collection)

alexander pushkin:

eugene onegin (novel)

a feast in time of plague (play)

ivan goncharov:

the precipice (novel)

oguri mushitarou:

the perfect crime (novel)

decay of the angel:

fukuchi ouchi:

the mirror lion, a spring diversion (kabuki play)

bram stoker:

dracula (novel)

dracula's guest and other weird stories (short story collection)

nikolai gogol:

the overcoat (short story)

dead souls (novel)

hunting dogs: (i must caveat here that the hunting dogs are named after much more comparatively obscure jpn writers/playwrights so i was unable to find a lot of the specific pieces actually mentioned; but i still wanted to include them on the list because well -- it wouldn't be a bsd list without them)

okura teruko:

gasp of the soul (short story; i wasn't able to find an english translation)

devil woman (short story)

jouno saigiku:

priceless tears (kabuki play; no translation but at least we have a summary)

suehiro tetchou:

setchuubai/a political novel: plum blossoms in snow (novel)

division for unusual powers:

taneda santouka:

the santoka: versions by scott watson (poetry collection)

tsujimura mizuki:

lonely castle in the mirror (novel)

yesterday's shadow tag (short story collection; i was unable to find a translation)

order of the clock tower:

agatha christie:

and then there were none (novel)

murder on the orient express (novel)

she is the best selling fiction writer of all time there's too much to list here

mimic:

andre gide:

strait is the gate (novel)

trascendents:

arthur rimbaud:

illuminations (poetry collection)

the drunken boat (poem)

a season in hell (prose poem)

johann von goethe:

faust

the sorrows of young werther

paul verlaine:

clair de lune (poem, yes it did inspire the debussy piece, yes)

poems under saturn (poetry collection)

victor hugo:

the hunchback of notre-dame (novel)

les miserables (novel)

william shakespeare:

romeo and juliet (play)

a midsummer nights' dream (play)

sonnets (poetry collection)

the seven traitors:

jules verne:

around the world in 80 days (novel)

journey to the center of the earth (novel)

twenty thousand leagues under the seas (novel)

other:

natsume souseki:

i am a cat (novel)

kokoro (novel)

botchan (novel)

h.g. wells:

the time machine (novella)

the invisible man (novel)

the war of the worlds (novel)

shibusawa tatsuhiko:

the travels of prince takaoka (novel; unable to find translation)

dr. mary wollstonecraft godwin shelley

frankenstein (novel)