#there's so many good lines that got cut!!!

[hencheri]

— dior girl

▸ 18+ mdni.

When Park Sunghoon wants something, he gets it no matter how hard it can be. He's not scared to get his hands dirty. If he had any morals, maybe he'd consider his obsession with you getting out of hands, but he has absolutely no morals.

| pairing. designer!sunghoon x fem!reader

| warnings. dark!sunghoon (he's not a good person lol), implied legal age gap, alcohol consumption & mention of drugs use, mention of gain weight, manipulation, corruption, violent sexual thoughts, unprotected sex, anal play, dacryphilia, aftercare because yes sunghoon's a sadist but he still has a heart.

| wc. 7.5k

| a.n.: repost from an old blog. pls forgive me for how lengthy the smut is (or thank me)!!

His studio is his sanctuary. It's the only place where he can spend hours without even noticing the moon setting or the sun rising. In his studio, it feels like time doesn't exist or that it's just a futile detail that doesn't have much importance.

When he's creating a piece, nothing around him matters. The only things he's willing to give attention to are the placements of the needles on the fabric, the little lines that form the pattern of the clothing, or the way his scissors cut through the satin material of the dress he's working on.

He's thought about this design for so long and he finally got the opportunity to make it. He's thought about the colours of the dress and of the seam, about the length of the hem and the sleeves, how deep the neckline should be and if lace would be suitable.

He doesn't even recall how many sketches he's made of that dress. At some point, it was consuming his entire mind, the only thing he could draw and think of.

Now that he's finally making it, he has the feeling that it's going to be the best piece he's ever created. He already sees everyone talking about it, saying how much of a genius Park Sunghoon is. It's going to be the design of the year—of the century.

He still misses something, though, and it might be the most important part of it all. He needs a model, the perfect body to wear his piece and present it to the fashion world.

It can't be anybody, it must be someone who's confident, who always has their head up and radiates elegance and sports a unique beauty.

Sunghoon still hasn't found this person. He constantly searches for them, but never finds them or when he thinks that he has, he discovers flaws he cannot unseen.

All the Dior models are great, but not enough. They don't spark anything in Sunghoon when he watches them strode down the catwalk. He's checked upon the apprentices and the newer models the company has hired, but he saw no one extraordinary.

Until today.

He hears steps against the wooden floor of his studio, entering the place without knocking. 

"Ah, there he is!" A manly voice exclaims and Sunghoon immediately recognizes it as his friend's, Soobin. "I have someone to introduce you."

Sunghoon raises his gaze up from his working table and looks at Soobin who's accompanied by a beautiful, young woman. He's then suddenly interested, contrary to usual where he never really cares about the many girls Soobin brings, claiming each one as the new phenomenon of the fashion industry.

When Sunghoon turns around, he eyes you up and down, barely glimpsing in Soobin's way. It's all it takes, one simple glance and he knows you're the one he needs—the one he wants and has to ruin.

Soobin introduces you both and when your name is pronounced by the man, sounding so charming and delicate, he's certain you're the model he had been waiting for since a long time.

You seem shy, arms locked behind your back, but you stand up straight and have a polite smile drawn on your face.

"I thought maybe you'd like to get to know each other, right?" Soobin raises his eyebrows in Sunghoon's direction. "Everyone's fond of her," he smiles and pats your back, encouraging you to speak up.

"Thanks," you smile back at Soobin before glancing at Sunghoon who still hasn't looked away from you. "I'm a big fan of your work, Mr. Park. You've inspired me to become a model."

The way you say his name has his cock twitching in his pants, filthy thoughts of him spanking your butt as you cry his name invading his mind.

He can sense your vulnerability, your willingness to submit. Who would he be to deny you that? Him, who is so eager to dominate the ones he's attracted to, so eager to break but also repair them.

He knows it when someone's fragile, hiding their weaknesses under fake confidence. He doesn't know you, but he recognizes the pattern almost instantly. What can be broken can also be repaired and you're asking him to break you.

"I'm glad to hear that," Sunghoon says politely, a slight smile tugging on his lips. He's not the type to smile—stretch the corner of his mouth upward to imitate the person in front of him, he finds it shallow. But for you, he'll do it, just so you trust him, so desperate to give yourself to the opposite sex. 

"Park, you were wondering who'd be part of the fall show this year," Soobin begins, looking at you like you're the most irradiant ruby in the world. "Well, you have her in front of you." 

You chuckle softly at the man's words, nodding your head at him and then looking at Sunghoon as if waiting for some praises.

Sunghoon faintly smiles, seeing your eyes glimmering and he curses himself for not finding you sooner. You'd have been his by now, his to praise, his to kiss and fuck. His to destroy. But he swears, if he happens to break you, he'll gratefully keep you safe close to him.

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"Careful," Sunghoon softly says as he catches you up before you can fall to the floor. You let out a high pitched laugh, as if all of this is a big joke, and push him back with a hand on his chest.

"I'm fine," you answer, shrugging him off with a flip of your hand. You stagger from left to right, leaning against the wall when you almost stumble. You laugh it off again, halting your steps.

Sunghoon looks at you with a cringe expression, eyeing the people behind, sporting worried looks on their faces.

You all went out after the show; models, designers, directors, stylists... everyone. It wasn't your plan to get drunk, Sunghoon knows that because you're not supposed to drink alcohol during your diet. A glass from time to time isn't so bad, but your consumption clearly surpassed just a glass tonight.

It's not really your fault, though. Technically yes, since you're the one who swallowed all of the wine, but you had a little help.

A little help from Sunghoon himself.

When you weren't looking, he poured more alcohol in your glass and to his satisfaction you noticed nothing and gulped everything down. Sure, you got a bit suspicious, wondering how you had only drank so little when you remembered swallowing more than that.

But Sunghoon assured you it was only your first glass, so you drank, and drank, and drank... 

Until you were more than tipsy.

You've received nasty looks from your colleagues, especially the other models who weren't drinking a single drop of wine, and yet, still weren't awarded with the status of the 'face of Dior'. How ironic that the drunkest girl in the room was the face of Dior and the little protégée of Mr. Park.

"I'll... I'll bring her to our room, you can go out without us," Sunghoon announces, watching you sit down on the floor in the middle of the corridor.

"Will she be okay?" 

"Of course. I'll take care of her."

He waits for everyone to be gone before he gets you up from the floor and leads you both to your hotel room. When you're in the room, he sits you down on the bed.

You don't say anything as he takes off his jacket and loosens his tie. He crouches down in front of you to remove your heels and he does the same with his shoes, leaving them by the entry.

When he comes back, he sees you quietly crying, the features of your face contorting into a sad expression. You've slightly sobered up, harshly coming back to reality, realizing how much you've embarrassed yourself tonight.

"What did I do?" You ask, looking up at him with teary eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

Sunghoon sits down beside you, lifting your head up with his index under your chin and his thumb over it. "There's nothing that can't be repaired," he states in a soft voice, so low it sounds like a sweet whisper—a secret, a confession only you know. "Right?"

You sniff, wiping your tears away. You nod your head in agreement, slightly reassured, hoping Sunghoon will fix your mistakes. 

"Shh, baby, shh," he softly murmurs, cradling your head in his hands and gently laying your face against his chest. You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tighter.

He strokes your hair delicately, placing a sweet and warm kiss on the top of your head.

Someone as vulnerable as you contains a lot of emotions. He has to deal with them, which doesn't bother him at all. He wants you the way you are; sad and pitiful.

"Everything's going to be fine," he promises, but it's not entirely the truth. Not everything will be fine, though it'll be in the end, he thinks—he hopes.

You eventually pull away from his embrace, just enough to look at him. It seems like you're searching for something or maybe waiting for something, your eyes desperately staring at Sunghoon as if his simple presence will make all of your problems go away.

You throw yourself at him and kiss him on the lips, fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He reciprocates it, knowing you like your kisses sloppy and messy, wanting Sunghoon everywhere on you to remind you that he's always there.

You bring him closer, wrinkling the material of his white shirt between your fists, moaning and whining as your teeth clash together at how roughly you kiss each other.

Sunghoon breaks your exchange first, both catching your breaths. His eyes observe you quietly as you look at him like you're still waiting for something.

"Did you do what I told you to?" He questions you, referring to your conversation of a few days earlier when you came to his studio to try on his dress.

You were a bit stressed out, putting on the clothing like you were scared you'd rip it. He still remembers the way the satin was sliding up your body, hugging your waist and ass perfectly. 

He was baffled at how incredibly well it suited you as if he had made it exactly for you.

And maybe it was made for you, after all.

Because when he saw his creation on you, he knew you had to wear it for the runway. It has to be you, he'll accept no one else.

Sunghoon will make you walk the runway wearing his dress—the last time you'll ever step on the catwalk. After that, he'll keep you away from the rest of the world. He'll refuse anyone to see you because you're going to be his.

His forever.

"Yes," you nod your head, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Tell me what you did," Sunghoon softly demands, holding your chin in his hand, mouths inches away from each other.

You're too shy to say it out loud and that's why he wants you to tell him. Also to be sure you did everything correctly, but mainly because he wants to see you embarrassed.

"I prepared myself for you..." you begin, holding eye contact even though you feel your face heating up just thinking about all the things you've done per his request. "I... I used lube both on me and... the toy," you continue in a shy tone, so low Sunghoon wouldn't hear you if he wasn't so close.

"Where on you, sweetheart?" He interrupts, wanting each detail, each little thing you normally wouldn't have done if it wasn't for him. 

You swallow, "On my ass, Sunghoon," you answer in a whisper. "I stretched it out for you, using the toy like you told me," you finally admit.

"Good girl," Sunghoon purrs. "Let me see it then."

You proceed to strip off of your dress, now used to be nude in front of him, and slide your panties down your thighs, discarding them away on the floor. 

You get back up on the mattress and position yourself on all fours close to the edge of the bed. Sunghoon stands up and goes behind you to have a closer look at your ass.

His veiny hands pull your cheeks apart, revealing your rim to his insatiable, sadistic eyes. You glance over your shoulder, curious of what he has in mind and what he has prepared for you. 

You softly gasp when he spits and lets the globe of spit drip down between your asscheeks, rolling over your puckered hole. You clench around nothing, relieved to have his attention, to finally feel his hands on you instead of the usual touch of yours. 

He sees that your ass is a bit more loose than the last time he saw it, but it still clearly needs more preparation to welcome his girthy cock—though it's not like he cares that much if you're prepped enough or not. 

He passes his thumb over your tight muscle, circling it and smearing his saliva over it. He wants to fuck it so bad, destroy it and do unbelievably violent things to you. Should he tonight? Should he show you his dark and evil side? 

He's choked you before—smacked your ass hard till you felt your skin stings, overstimulated you to the point your orgasms were just spasms passing through your body, fucked your throat while you were drooling all over yourself, and tied your legs and wrists together to restrict your movements. 

So fucking your ass can't be that bad, but the thing is Sunghoon wants it to be bad. He then wonders what would happen if the line is ever crossed. Would you endure it, would you defend yourself? Would you shut the fuck up and take it like you're asked to?

But you trust him so much—with all of your pathetic being—and he thinks you'd let him cross any lines he desires to. He probably already has crossed multiples, and being the poor girl that you are, you said nothing.

You truly are extraordinary. 

He gives a slight slap to one of your asscheeks, groping both of them after, feeling how soft and tender your flesh is. "You did good, sweetheart," he comments in a honeyed voice, "how about we play with it a little?" 

He lifts up a brow at you and you nod sheepishly, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. "Yes..."

"Great," he says in a low tone, running his hands one last time over your ass before going to take something from his suitcase. 

"What is it?" You question, your curious eyes landing on the small object he's holding.

Sunghoon brings the object to you, something made of metal, the end having the shape of a cone and a pink gem placed on the top. "A gift for my princess," he replies, opening the bottle of lube he brought as well. 

He applies some lube around your tight hole and on the butt plug, and carefully pushes the head of the toy in your ass. You gasp softly, feeling it slowly stretch you, sinking in gradually as Sunghoon holds your cheeks apart.

"Feels good, Sir," you moan, arching your back and pushing your butt closer to Sunghoon. 

When the plug is all the way in, the pink gem peeking out between your two globes of flesh, he smacks your other cheek, leaving his stinging handprint on you. 

"Is that so, dirty girl?" He wonders, gripping your hips and colliding his hips with your butt, sensing his bulge pulsing under his pants. "You like it when your little ass gets stretched out?" 

"I like everything you do to me," you say with a content sigh, pussy clenching around nothing as your ass gets used to the small butt plug. 

Sunghoon genuinely thinks he can't find better than you. You were so shy in the beginning, looking like a lost puppy wherever you went. You just needed someone bigger and older to show you the way—though you were too dumb, and still are, to realize he was leading you to the wrong path.

It's not like you seem to mind, anyway. 

After all, you both got what you wanted; you, male attention, someone to rely on and be protected by, and him, a woman to break and keep with him forever. 

He lets go of your hips to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather material out of the gold loop with the luxury Dior logo on it. He lets the two ends of the belt hang off, not bothering to remove it completely, and tucks the fly of his pants down.

He finally frees his cock from the confines of his boxers, springing up and slapping his stomach, the bit of pre-cum escaping from his tip dampening his shirt. 

"You're so good to me, princess," he praises as he wraps a hand around the base of his engorged cock, aching and begging to be nestled in your cute little pussy. 

His head pushes at your entrance, never fully entering, only teasing your hole and stimulating all of your sensitive nerves. He watches how his cock stretches your cunt, your walls expending to receive his bulbous tip and then closing down when he pulls out. 

"Sir, please, want more," you beg him, pushing your ass on him to have his dick back in you. You let out a little whimper when Sunghoon holds your hips in place, stopping you from wiggling your butt side to side against his thick cock. 

He hums and slaps your ass harshly, your skin burning after. "Want my cock in your needy little pussy, baby? Is that what you're crying for?" He asks, teasing even more by swiping the head between your pussy lips, a string of your arousal sticking to his angry tip. 

"Yes," you say back quickly and desperately, arching your back, literally presenting yourself to Sunghoon. "Been so good, don't I deserve it, Sir?" You softly murmur, still looking over your shoulder to see his gaze fixated on your quivering pussy, cock head sliding up and down over your sex. 

"You do..." He responds distractedly, licking his lips, his fingers touching the pink gem peeking out from your ass. You're always so good and obedient for him, he even wonders if you ever did something that genuinely pissed him off before. 

When he really sinks in, his head passing the barrier of your sweet pussy, he groans deeply, feeling your walls envelop him tightly. 

He bends his back over yours, running his hand up your spine, feeling all the little bumps of it until he reaches your neck and shoves your head against the mattress. 

You whine when he starts pounding into you, his girth stretching you out so well, leaving you panting and moaning loudly. His other hand holds your hip against his dick, fingers digging into your skin, leaving permanent marks on your body.

He already sets a hard and rapid pace—fucking is never soft or loving with Sunghoon, it's violent, long, and agonizing. It's a way to be himself, the real and dark version of himself he hides in public, and releases when he gets intimate with you. 

You surprisingly got accustomed to it, embracing it as if it was your destiny, the reason for your existence; to be his personal slut, the little toy he likes to play rough with. You've accepted it, like you had no other choice but to be fucked into oblivion by Sunghoon whenever he feels like it. 

"You like that, baby? Huh?" He growls, as if you're the disgusting one for liking the way he treats you, to be ravished and delighted to have his cock sliding against your walls. "You like it when I fuck you hard like this?" He repeats and grips your hair, pushing your head into the bed covers with more strength. 

You babble out something, voice caught in your throat, too out of breath to formulate a simple sentence. You then only nod, your cheek squished against the mattress, Sunghoon's hand still pushing down on your head. 

His mouth hangs open to let out heavy breaths and his eyes are focused on your face, watching the little translucent pearls fall on your face and onto the bed. Your pussy swallows all of him, clenching so tightly it has him groaning and saying profanities under his breath.

It's sick how it makes his cock so fucking hard, leaking so much pre-cum in you and twitching avidly by seeing you struggle to breathe. You hold the bed sheets between your fists, doing everything in your power to keep your ass up for Sunghoon and not slump down on the bed from the hard thrusts he's inflicting on you. 

He snaps his hips against your ass and the entirety of his length is covered in your wetness, a white ring made of your cream circling the base of his cock. 

His hand holding your head descends to your neck, enclosing it with his fingers. He squeezes a little, just a bit so you know who's in control, so you never forget Sunghoon controls you—controls your life and thoughts. 

With a grip on your hair, he brings your torso up, arched back against his chest. The material of his shirt sticks to your skin, covered in a thin layer of sweat. He continues to pound into you and as he holds you by the throat, he lewdly licks the side of your face in a long stripe. 

You shudder in desire, hair standing up on your arms. "You're my little whore, aren't you, baby?" His mouth is right beside your ear as he whispers the words to you, his lips touching your hair, damp at the nape of your neck. "So fucking compliant... You want to please me so badly like the slut that you are.”

His free hand that doesn't have a hold around your throat slides down your body, passing over your belly and reaching your puffy clit. The sharp zipper of his pants graces the flesh just under your ass, irritating your skin and making it itchy. You clench around him when his digits find your sensitive bud.

"Yes, want to please you, Sunghoon," you gasp, bucking your hips at the feeling of his rough fingertips on you. He grunts when you address him by his name, loving how it sounds on your tongue, so sweet and timid. 

He remembers the first time you moaned his name; you were sprawled across his expensive leather couch, blindfolded and hands attached together with his black tie. Intense for your first time with him, but it was also the last time he's ever been that gentle with you. 

It was when his cold fingertips graced the skin of your stomach that you let out a squeak followed by his name, said in the quietest moan. He had then stopped his movements and looked at your face, an expression of distress painted over your features. 

He had realized how frail and weak you actually were, needing your most important sense to be at ease. That's why he had blindfolded you, to show you how dependent you were on him, how impossible it was for you to live without someone to guide you. 

He pushes your jaw to the side so your lips can meet in a feverish kiss, wet tongues mingling together, drool dripping down from the corners of your mouth. He continues to ram his cock in your pussy, the sound of skin against skin resonating in the hotel room. 

He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whimper and close your walls around him once again. Your hands grip the material of his trousers, keeping him close and holding on to something because the hard cadence of his hip thrusts push you forward, breasts bouncing up on your chest. 

"Fuck," he curses and he suddenly stops, steadying his hips against your butt. You let out a whiny moan as Sunghoon lets go of your face and hips. 

You're sad to have your pleasure ripped away from you so hastily, but you don't have the time to complain, Sunghoon slipping out of your cunt and pushing you down violently on the mattress. 

You turn around on your back to see him unbuttoning his dress shirt and throwing it on the floor, revealing to you his beautiful chest and milky skin. He gets rid of his pants and socks after, finally removing his boxers, the only thing remaining on him being the watch crowning his right wrist. 

His cock glistens in your juices, more pre-cum leaking from his swollen tip and twitching avidly against his stomach. Even though him fucking you while being all dressed and you completely bare is a way to humiliate and degrade you, he also likes to be naked sometimes. 

He loves skin to skin contact, how your bodies stick together because of all the sweat coating you. It's addicting, it's rougher and it creates more friction—more pain. 

He doesn't mind being naked because he knows how to dominate you either way. He doesn't find it embarrassing, on the contrary, it makes him scarier and hungrier. While you shiver without your clothes on, curled up on yourself, Sunghoon is imposing, his cock thick enough to split you in half. 

He crawls back to you, hovering over you like a predator that has caught his prey, boring his eyes into yours. You look at him in awe, always waiting patiently. You feel his cock against your thigh, your hole pathetically quivering—missing his size terribly. 

He sneaks a hand between your legs and reaches the little pink gem, ready to get it out. "Take a deep breath, sweetheart," Sunghoon instructs and you inhale deeply.

He doesn't waste a second, pulling out the butt plug out of your ass. You scrunch your eyes shut at the pain, exhaling when it's done. There's still a bit of lube left on it and around your ass. He carefully sets it on the nightstand, coming back to you after. 

He bends your legs over your stomach and looks at your ass, just begging him to fuck it, shining with lube and arousal that leaked from your pussy. His cock is so close to it and Sunghoon could slide right in with one movement of his hips. 

He lets go of one of your legs to grip his erection, a little gasp escaping your lips when he presses the head of his cock at your tight hole, threatening to sink in. 

"Sir," you sigh, not sure if you're ready for that. It always burns no matter how good you prepped before and he knows that. That's why he's so tempted, staring so obsessively at your rim. 

Will it hurt you? Will you grip his biceps in an attempt to dissuade him? He wants to see those tears falling from your eyes again, he wants to lick them and tastes your pain. He feels more blood rush down to his cock at the mere thought of hurting you. 

Give him all of your pain, he'll fucking take it whole and cherish it. He wants it—he needs it. Accuse him of having a sick and twisted mind, accuse him of everything you've ever been hurt by because he'll gladly take the blame. 

"I know you can take it," he says in a low tone, glancing up at your face as he applies just a bit more force. "Can you, baby?" Sunghoon asks, waiting for you to admit how much you want it, how badly you want him to destroy you. 

"Yes..." You whisper back, a long shiver running up your spine as his eyes pierce through you. 

"Yes what? Tell me, sweetheart," he demands, and it's as if he doesn't care about your response whatsoever because the next thing he does makes you yelp in pain. 

His tip has entered you, the burning sensation forcing you to scrunch your eyes shut. 

"Yes, I- I can..." you stutter and as expected, you dig your nails into the flesh of his biceps, only fair to hurt him in return. "I can take your cock in my ass."

You take a sharp breath, eyes slowly opening, all watery and painful. Sunghoon groans at that, stuffing more of himself into you. "Good girl," he praises.

He stretches you out completely, his dick in no comparison to the toys you've used on you. You open your mouth as he pushes himself in gradually, tears streaming down your face when you blink. 

The tears roll down the side of your face and Sunghoon can't help but love the sight, leaning in to kiss your face and collect one of your tears, tasting the saltiness of it on his tongue. 

"Sunghoon!" You look at him with the saddest and most hurtful eyes. "It burns," you add in a quiet voice, now scratching his back, leaving long red trails on his skin. 

"I know, baby, I know," he softly murmurs in your ear, a husky moan leaving his mouth when he's completely nestled in you, balls touching your ass. "You're so tight, fuck," he sucks a breath through his teeth, not moving until he estimates he's waited long enough. 

He gives warm and wet kisses to your neck, going down to your collarbones and pawing at your breasts, slowly starting to move his hips. You lock your legs behind his back, wanting him as close to you as possible despite the pain he's inflicting on you. 

He loves knowing it hurts you because it makes it more pleasurable to him somehow. The pain will go away soon anyway, that's why he doesn't bother to stop or slow down. You have to get used to the feeling first. 

The choking, the hair pulling, the smacks... He keeps it for the bedroom, but he won't lie that there's a part of him that wants to ruin your life, ruin everything you've accomplished so far just so he can see those sad eyes of yours and hear you ask him for help out of desperation. 

It's not even sexual, he just wants to break you, that's all he desires. Though your life is something he wants to destroy, it's more of a way to have you dependent on him after. If your career is no longer successful, your solution is Sunghoon because he's the only person in your life capable of taking care of you both emotionally and physically. 

His teeth chew on the tender skin of your neck while his hand travels all over your body, many veins popping out along his strong arm. His finger gently circles your clit to make the pain more bearable. 

His hand that was roaming over your body comes to close around your throat and he turns his head to your side, lips brushing over your temple. "Yeah, just like that, baby," he mutters under his breath, his nose pressing down on your hair as he murmurs the words to you. "Just like that..." 

A choked moan is all that escapes your mouth. His hot breath hits the side of your face, his chest heaving rapidly while you claw at his back, white scratches appearing on his shoulder blades.

He sweetly kisses your temple as he pounds into you, not tightening his hand around your throat, just holding you in place—making sure you know that he’s always in control. 

Your tits slightly bounce up and down on your chest, little whines coming out of you each time Sunghoon bottoms out. It starts to feel good for you—really good—and you think that this pleasure is totally worth a bit of pain at the beginning. 

You grip the hair at the nape of his neck and bring him in for a kiss. He accepts it, kissing you back as if he wants to possess your whole mouth, biting and licking your lips. You moan into his mouth, twisting his hair between your fingers.

He pulls away from you, his full lips glistening in both of your saliva, and places his two palms on your boobs. He feels your perky nipples under his hands, just loving how plushy your breasts are, fitting perfectly in his palms. 

He keeps thrusting in you as he gropes your tits and you bring your hands over his, looking into each other's eyes. He lets out a low groan, holding eye-contact with you. 

You feel his veins under your palms, your pussy clenching around nothing but air while you run your hands all over his arms. You love to feel his pulsing veins under your fingertips.

"Sunghoon..." You moan his name, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of his hard cock entering and exiting your tight hole. Sunghoon takes the opportunity to smooch over your neck again as you expose it to him, his lips pressing down on your throat. "I love it," you sigh pleasantly. 

He hums, the sound coming deep from his throat. He wants to hurt you, yes, but he likes it even more when you love the pain. He just knew you were exactly like him when he first saw you. He had the feeling that you needed someone like him, someone that'd push you to your limits and make you discover a new type of pleasure. 

And he was right because there's not one time where you told him to stop.

"My dirty girl," he purrs in response, bringing his lips up to your jaw. He slowly rolls your nipples between his fingertips, pinching and pulling on them. "You're stupid, but so, so good for me, baby.” 

He slowly halts his hip thrusts and he eventually pulls out of you. You gasp when he does so, already missing his cock stretching out your ass. 

Sunghoon raises himself up from you and gets out of the bed. His erection stands tall against his stomach, bouncing up as he walks to the front of the bed. 

You watch him getting away until he orders you to follow him. "Come here," he says softly and you don't make him wait. "On your knees," Sunghoon commands when you're facing him, sinking down to your knees. 

He places a hand behind your head and the other around the base of his dick, guiding the head of his cock toward your lips as he pushes down on your head. 

"Here, baby," he instructs in a low voice. "Take it in your mouth." You part your lips to welcome Sunghoon's length, his bulbous tip shining in pre-cum and your juices under the light of the room. 

He immediately moans when he enters the warmth of your mouth, his heavy cock sliding on your wet tongue. He doesn't let you have much control, pushing his dick in your mouth until your nose touches his pubic hair. 

You relax your jaw for Sunghoon, allowing him to stuff more of himself into your mouth. He looks down at you, watching at the way your lips wrap around him tightly, your eyes starting to water. 

He begins to fuck your mouth, forcing you to take him whole each time he bottoms out. He moves his hips back and forth, obsessed with the way his girth appears and reappears between your lips as he uses your mouth as he pleases. 

"Shit," he hisses when you hollow your cheeks, "you're a fucking cockslut, aren't you, baby?" He says breathily, his eyes not once leaving his cock penetrating your mouth over and over again. 

You whine around him, surely agreeing with what he said, sending vibrations throughout his entire body. He lets out a deep moan, your cheeks and eyelashes all wet because of your tears, eyes burning as Sunghoon fucks your throat roughly. 

"Stroke your clit," he manages to say between two heavy breaths. "You can get off by yourself, right? I know you're soaking wet just by letting me use that pretty mouth of yours," he mocks you, but he knows he's right. Whatever he does, your cunt is always dripping wet. 

You whimper again, doing what he told you to and sneaking a hand between your thighs to play with your pussy. You part your legs wider as you circle your clit with your finger, Sunghoon's hooded eyes lazily watching you playing with yourself. 

Your right hand is laying on his thigh while the other is operating between your legs, pleasuring yourself to the sounds of Sunghoon's moans and the feeling of his cock weighing down on your tongue. 

You do your best to breathe through your nose, swallowing around his length and flattening your tongue underneath him. Your juices drip down your inner thighs, your finger smoothly flickering over your sensitive bud.

The whole room is smelling like sex, an odour that Sunghoon can't ignore, loving it so much. Your lips glide so easily over his hard cock, completely covered in your spit and still some of your wetness, tasting yourself on him. 

"Ah, fuck," he curses, his head rolling back on his shoulders, eyes still strained down on you. He feels the familiar burning sensation at the pit of his stomach, indicating he's really close to his orgasm. "Go on the bed, baby."

You're taken aback, but you follow his order, pulling him out of your mouth and laying your back down on the mattress close to the edge. You beautifully moan when Sunghoon penetrates your pussy, bending your legs over your stomach. 

"Oh, god," you cry softly, being pounded onto the bed right away, tits moving up and down on your chest. 

His hands are positioned on each side of your shoulders, snapping his hips against yours so harshly it hurts. You keep doing circle motions on your clit, now faster and impatient to reach your high. 

You let out a high-pitched moan when Sunghoon suddenly steadies his hips over yours, dropping down to his elbows as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Holy fuck," he grunts, gripping the bed sheets tightly in his fists beside your head as his cock twitches in your cunt. 

"Yes, yes," you quietly exclaim, your orgasm passing through you, making you arch your back and buck your hips. 

Your pussy clenches repeatedly around him and he finally comes undone into you, shooting long, thick ropes of cum deep in you. When he slips out of you, more spurts out of his tip, landing on your pussy, covering you in his cum. 

He stays above you for some time, catching his breath and looking at the mess he made of you. 

Later, Sunghoon is in the shower, washing his hair and his body, passing a soft cloth soaked in soap over his chest. He lets the water fall over his head, wetting his black locks. He stays maybe a bit longer than normally, staring at the tiled wall. 

He thinks about you, about all the things he's planned. He revised everything in his head, imagining you walk on the podium wearing his dress, people looking at his piece with admiration in their eyes. 

He thinks about everything that will go down for you after the show, getting fired, losing your career and your fans. Many articles talking about your excessive use of alcohol and drugs, saying how tired and sad you look beside Sunghoon. 

You won't last long, you're too weak anyway. A downfall like this is unconquerable, nobody recovers from that, and surely not a model who will be thrown out of the industry as soon as you turn twenty-five. 

Sunghoon knows the industry, he's been in it for years now. He's aware of how cruel it is, how difficult and harsh it can be on fragile little girls like you. 

But that's why he's here, he'll take care of you once nobody will want you anymore. That's the goal, after all; you to be finally his—solely and completely. 

"Sunghoon?"

Your voice reaches him, turning his head in your direction, seeing you hesitantly entering the shower with him. He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you do, hugging him and laying your head down on his wet chest. 

"I love you, sweetheart," he softly murmurs against your hair. "I'll never leave you, you know that, right?" 

You nod your head, looking up at him and meeting his gaze. "I love you, too."

๑♡՞

The runway went incredibly well. Celebrities and journalists were all gathered for the fall show, totally amazed by every design and the models that were wearing them. 

But there was one specific piece that everyone was willing to say was the best. 

Sunghoon was satisfied to see that his name stood out amongst everyone else's, being mentioned more times than Dior itself. He predicted it; it was the creation that every guest remembered, the dress that the fans were only talking about. 

He'd take all the credit, he was the one who imagined it and then sewed it after all, but he has to admit that you contributed to the fame a lot. 

Being the beloved face of Dior only made people talk more about it and that was what Sunghoon needed. 

But every good story has an end, doesn't it? 

When Sunghoon comes back to his apartment, the place is silent except for the TV playing, as he thought it would be. You're looking through the window, the city draped in the dark, splotches of bright yellow light flashing in front of your eyes. You're sitting on the sofa, not even acknowledging his presence as he enters, getting rid of his shoes. 

You're not much of a talker since you've been fired from Dior a few days ago just after the fall show. He understands your wish of remaining silent, needing a bit of space to process everything that happened the past weeks in your head. 

It was going to happen soon or later anyway. You've been to your photoshoots completely drunk, sometimes just going in with a hangover, but of course it didn't help your case at all. 

Sunghoon was guilty for letting you drink alcohol so soon in the morning. No need to deny it, he was even the one dropping you off at work like that. Well, he had to do it if he wanted people to notice how far you've fallen. 

He doesn't feel bad, though. Your career wasn't going to last with or without Sunghoon's sabotage. He did you a favour. 

You can't handle being a model. If you could, none of that would have happened. You wouldn't have gained weight, you would have been suspicious of the amount of calories Sunghoon was feeding you. The bottles of wine wouldn't have been so tempting and smoking weed wouldn't have ever occurred to you as a good idea. 

You shouldn't be ashamed of it, sometimes things just don't work out like we would have wanted them to. 

"Did you see the article they wrote about me?" You ask, still looking outside. "You surely did, I bet that's all they're talking about..." 

He sits down beside you and you eventually turn around, facing him. You care so much about what others think of you. It must be so tiring having such a low self-esteem. He can only imagine it; seeing you look through the window like a sad puppy, your life finally making sense when Sunghoon comes home. 

"I did, but nothing of that matters to me," he answers, the most honest he's ever been. And even if he had to lie, it's not like you wouldn't have believed him. You always trust whatever he says. 

You don't reply, your head still filled with many thoughts. 

"Hey, come here," he softly tells you, patting his thigh. You straddle his lap, setting your hands on his shoulders. He cups your chin, forcing you to look at him as you keep avoiding his gaze. "Whatever they say, whatever their name is, nothing will ever be more important than you." 

Because who is he if he lets some article affect the way he sees you? He's known you since the beginning of your career and he stayed till the end of it. 

He knows you better than everyone else. He was with you during your highs and lows and he'll still be there for the next ones. There's nothing in the world that could make him leave you. After everything he's done to have you, there's no way he'll go away. 

How cowardly of him if he does. He can't leave when he's promised he'd heal you—close all of your past wounds and create other ones. He may be selfish, but there's one thing that he isn't and it's a fucking liar. He sticks to his words, and when he says he'll never leave you, that means he'll never, never abandon you—he'll never leave your side, not even once. He can't risk it.

[chamoemileclown]

I finally watched Wato's 100 days because of you and oh wow. it got to me good. Now looking at your piece with a newfound understanding.... wow

it makes me incredibly happy when people tell me my art encouraged them to watch something because that’s how i’ve gotten into most of the things i love!! im using this as an opportunity to talk about my own art and the things i really enjoyed about the video so spoilers ahead for this piece under the cut!

you can watch the video here if you haven’t already!

I’ve noticed in a lot of 100 days videos there’s usually a “drag” point in the middle where the cc gets tired or frustrated with their challenge. They might reach a point where they get stuck or grow lonely and the task ahead grows to arduous only for them to pivot and overcome their problems. Wato’s video asks, “well what if you can’t overcome?” and delves into the psychological horror of being trapped doing the same tasks over and over again not even knowing if you’re goals are attainable.

It might be hard for some people to watch because it does drag on, and that’s the point it was not a fun experience for Wato, but it’s so beautifully cinematic. The video does a lot of overlaying, certain scenes fading into others as if time is blurring together for Wato.

some of my favorite shots included these overlays, they’re so beautiful! I think a lot of 100 days videos fail to convey how long 100 days really feels like, often summing things up quickly and cutting down footage but with this video it makes sure to stay and focus on this stuff since that’s where the horror comes from.

I tried to include this with the endermen dotted around my piece!

in a lot of these shots the most noatble thing is the bright endermen eyes overlayed ontop of everything because not matter what Wato does he can’t really keep them away. As long as she’s there the endermen as going to spawn. That’s why I drew him trying to climb out of the frame, he’s trying to escape it but no matter how many times he jumps off one of his hotels to death reset he comes back and he’s still made little progress.

Wato usually wears a matching pink boutonniere and tie but I shifted the color more orange to complement the color pallet a pay homage to Kenadian and his loss early on in the challenge.

Wifies on exists in Wato’s line of sight, his lower half disappearing underneath their outstretched arm because Wifies only exists for his own comfort.

Wato is able to escape, he does so by making it to the nether but he leaves behind Ken and his hallucination of Wifies in the process. like hallucination Wifies said, “well- you can get out of here-“ Wato did succeed at the very end of his challenge, and even after he made it to the nether he flung himself into the lava, going back to death reseting even knowing he had a chance to beat the goal he set out with now.

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

Ohohoho, I see more stp related character ask games. In which case, thoughts on Hunted? Could always use more Hunted content out here

(Ooooo Hunted!!! The silliest of fellas)

(And as I’m writing this my appreciation for him just skyrockets ten fold. He makes me. Let’s just say. Feral.)

(Ask is here!!! vvvvvv Sorry that it looks like this, I’m on IPad🗿)

(Also the reply is getting too long (again), sooo gonna put a cut somewhere here…)

FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM

Probably how reliable he is in general. I feel like he’s probably the voice that is the most loyal to Quiet alongside Hero. He just really doesn’t seem like the type of character to have any hidden agenda underneath his actions. He’s just, when he thinks of something, he’d just do it instinctively. I love how he just focuses on the now and what’s happening around him, and doesn’t rely on what he sees only. He’s a really simple guy and all he really wants is safety. And I really like that about him. (The contrast between him and Oppy is glaring here)

And also despite the fact that instinct is a big part that makes him “him”, he’s not completely feral and still holds that humanity inside of him. I think he’s pretty darn neat.

LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM

It’s how little he had appeared 😭😭😭

He needs more chapter 3 appearances aside from his own

Both him and Skeptic need more chapters actually.

(And honestly I don’t have much “””bad””” stuff to say about him. He’s just overall a very likeable character to me)

FAVORITE LINE

“Does a cat lie to a cornered mouse just to play with its freedom, or is it acting out its own nature?” (You’ll see this line again)

“The Look. We’ve all used it.”

“Looking at her makes me sad.”

BROtp

Gotta say Hunted and Witch. Hunted pairs well with many other voices and vessels, but the thought of two semi-feral characters interacting with each other is kind of adorable to me. Just. Similar brain wave signals. Vrrrrrrrr. Y’know.

Witch would just sniff Hunted and be like “hmmm he doesn’t smell like a liar to me” and she would just be chilling with him with half an eye closed and half of it open. Just in case. And Hunted just sees her as someone who’s gotten hurt. And had to fight back like a scared animal. So I think he would empathise with her. Idk.

Stubborn and Hunted is a good one too. I could imagine Stubborn and Hunted just sparring with each other whenever they could. The battle always ends in a stalemate though, since Hunted just dodges Stubborn’s attacks most of the time. And by the time Hunted is tired dodging Stubborn is tired as well. But knowing Stubborn he would try to throw a punch at him anyway. And then failing cause they have bodies now. Stubborn takes it as a challenge and is thrilled to see what other stuff Hunted could do. Unstoppable force vs Immovable object.

And the mental thought of Stubborn throwing Hunted like a Pokeball and be like “Hunted I choose you” is just so funny to me. And. Just. Hunted riding on Stubborn’s shoulder. So cute.

OTP

He honestly pairs well with a lot of them tbh, so I don’t think I can choose an exact one.

NOtp

I have none hehe

RANDOM HEADCANON

He would sometimes bite the other voices to show affection. If he is feeling really bite-y that day he would just find something to chew on just so he won’t accidentally hurt the others.

Also, the current smaller form you see of him is not his full form. That’s just him holding back his more feral side, and hence why he looks so tiny. He’s way taller and stronger than he looks.

(Sneak peak of his feral form!!!)

A more antsy head canon I’ve got for him is that a part of him always have this urge to consume the other voices since they are technically parts of the same guy. He feels really guilty about feeling this way. When that feeling is too strong he would lock himself away from the flock until it passes.

UNPOPULAR OPINION

(This is becoming less of an unpopular opinion and more of a ramble as I’m writing this, but I’m just gonna keep this here because I think this is pretty interesting)

I feel like he would take an integral role in helping the other voices in fighting against their nature, since he is so used to doing that himself. Many of the fics I’ve read where the voices are starting to become more complex and more than their nature often doesn’t mention Hunted at all. He would definitely take a role in helping the voices manage their own urges in a way that doesn’t hurt anyone, knowing how he empathises with Den despite everything she has done to them.

He shines the most when he is paired with Oppy regarding this. Oppy embraces his own nature, and often times to his own detriment. Hunted wouldn’t trust him, but he would still protect and look after him anyway since he is still a part of the flock. If Oppy ever shows an ounce of genuine interest in fighting against his urge to betray people for his own benefit, Hunted would be one of the first ones to help and encourage him.

“Does a cat lie to a cornered mouse just to play with its freedom, or is it acting out its own nature?”

Nature vs Nurture baby!!!!

SONG I ASSOCIATE WITH THEM

Butcher Vanity, specifically him in Den where he goes completely feral

And also Kaibutsu/怪物. It can be a shared song between Hunted and Oppy, but mostly Hunted.

FAVOURITE PICTURE OF THEM

(I love it when I just draw him like a fu@king creature)

(He’s so derpy-looking here)

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Hey, I've been following you for a long time now and I've never seen you complain or rant about literally anything but I genuinely wanted to ask your honest opinion about how you felt about episode 11 of thk like yes it was emotional but I'm asking you in terms of writing and directing side like Idk why it felt rushed and I'm a firstkhao fan so for me specially their scenes felt cut short with no problem dialogues given to them and that child intercepting them was it really needed?? It was the last 2nd episode more than that the whole day was really meaningful for them considering they will literally get to spend time together after 5 freaking years !! I know I'm sounding like a child complaining about such things but we have only an episode left and I feel like we still need 3-4 episodes considering the teaser they showed for the next episode!! Okay okay I'm done with my rant but really tell me how do you stay this positive regarding fk specially

Hello Anon, Welcome to my humble abode of me fangirling over FirstKhaotung, I guess? I am quite bemused that you (or anyone really) can follow my rambling mess.

Anyway, getting back to your asked – I can see you are somehow frustrated and perhaps a tad disappointed with the “lesser screen time” for KantBison compared to FadelStyle?

Writing and Directing for THK Ep 11 (and THK in general)

I won’t pretend I know anything about what is considered good screenwriting/script or directing. I will also admit that there are several things that I am puzzled by in THK. Certainly, there are some weak characterisations and general plot lines that sometimes doesn’t make sense. E.g – Captain Christ being able to promise only 5 years in prison sentence (my eyebrows shot up when he said that lol). And what about the whole Kant having Madam Lilly on tape doing villainy-stuffs – how? Did she really keep her own villainous act on tape – because I am assuming those evidence was the one Keen got for the boys at the beginning of the episode). Or perhaps we are just meant to use our media literacy skills and connect the dots that the tape is likely from Ruerat (which the brothers have successfully hidden him somewhere for the last few days until he is conveniently needed as a leeway for Captain Christ to “help” our besties). Plus, Captain Christ just letting Kant/Style getting away when they are complicit in helping our pair of hitmen.

So, like I say, plot holes. And let’s be honest, The Heart Killers as a series were never going to be an award-winning show per se (unlike P’Aof series that has now won his 3rd? consecutive best BL series in award shows. And judging from fan reactions of Gem4th upcoming series with him, he will have another winner on hand). But see, P’Aof shows have never quite hit the mark for me (I liked ATOS, Bad Buddy enough – we don’t speak about Last Twilight in my blog lol – as far as I am aware, that show ended in Ep 10).

However, what I am feeling when I watched Jojo’s series… is me being entertained every week (even when I am crying buckets in some scenes). And this is especially true with The Heart Killers. From the start, he has made it clear the genre is romantic comedy. He also made it clear the show is the “fantasy of how gay hitmen lives”. Just from that, I know the show will not take itself too seriously.  

Plus, if you know P’ Jojo CVs, you kinda know what to expect with his series – and I will sum it up as expect the unexpected and plot twists. 3WBF – Jennie’ partner died at the end. OF – Sand kissing Nick/Top. So, I was prepared for anything when the official THK trailer drop. When I saw the BDSM scene for example – many people were disappointed it wasn’t a “true” BDSM scene. But I personally think it added to the narrative because it showed the distrust between the 2 of them. Of course, it will be amazing for us to have another scene that will show what a BDSM with 2 partner who trust each other will be like. However, I am already impressed by how Jojo (and FirstKhaotung) successfully introduced the concept of safe word/basic BDSM etiquette to the largely conservative Thai audience (and while THK won legions of international fans, I am again reminding people when directors/Thai production houses produced BL shows, it is first and foremost catered for Thai audiences). Or what about the way the safe word is later used in a different, non-sexual manner between KantBison – this to me, gives depth (and again, unexpected twist!) to the writing of the show.

As for Ep 11 specifically – I think there were again some parts that can be improved but overall, it is a wonderful episode that contrast beautifully between our 2 couples while also highlighting how our 4 boys have stayed true to their characters. If there is one thing I am impressed about the script, it is how our 4 main characters stayed true to their inner personality even as we see them blossom once they fall in love. You talked about how KantBison scenes appear truncated, and they didn’t have in depth “problems” dialogues when compared to FadelStyle scenes. See, part of the “problems dialogues” as you mentioned have already been addressed during their stay in Bison’s island – in fact, I will argue Ep 8-9 were particularly focusing on those – from Kant/Bison talking about their trauma and fear, their family members/ the past and what they wished for their futures. However, we didn’t get this from FadelStyle Ep 8-9 (their scenes took a comedic tone to off set the heaviness in KantBison scenes). By end of Ep 9, Fadel’s past remains a mystery (we don’t even know much about his parents/past beyond he had an ex, which he finally told Style about).

So, I am not surprised the scenes for Fadelstyle in Ep 10-11 appears “heavier” when compared to KantBison who are now largely on the same page. We still got amazing scenes like KantBison sweet date in the rock/space museum (and again them continuing to learn about each other – Bison is into astronomy while Kant loves history and archaeology – and isn’t it poetic one loves the sky & stars while the other is rooted to the ground?). The “almost proposal scene” was sweet and yes, it is slightly irritating we have our young interloper (Oskar, you are doing great honey!) killing the mood – I think Jojo meant it as the comedic tone to cut the heaviness in FadelStyle scenes who is finally opening up to Style about how he felt about himself (the self-loathing from Fadel, the way he calmly just told Style – ‘that’s my headstone when I die’ or him telling Style why he goes to the support group meetings etc.)

And it stays true to the boys’ nature – Kant choosing Bison’s date to be lighter and fun because out of the 4 of them, Bison is the more childlike and naïve (him being hitman doesn’t change that). Similarly, it stays true to Fadel’s nature that he chooses to bring Style to his pre-dug graveyard and support group place (or being more physical – like the paintball scene, which is also a nod to the scene in 10 Things I hate about You).

And let me bring even more parallel between the 2 couples:

KantBison heartfelt conversation when Bison talked about the MilkyWay followed by Kant saying he will name a star for Bison so that the latter will be reminded of him. While Bison then softly said he just wants to be in Kant’s heart followed by the scene of them exchanging tattoos (plus Kant saying – The story of you and me will be etched on my skin forever) – that is the equivalent of them exchanging wedding vows and rings (the rings being the penguin/puffins tattoos – did you know penguin/puffins mate for life? I only learn of this fact 😂, and I find it romantic the boys chose them as their matching tattoos. Plus penguin is the safe word for Kant, I’m sure he has also associated it with home)

Similarly, the FadelStyle scene of them cooking together (with Fadel professing he wants to do something he loves with Style) and them having their last dinner meal together through tears – with Style stating he will never forget the taste of the burger. Style narrating the things he will never forget about Fadel – from being shot on the run together to them kissing each other in the sea (doesn’t that read to you like wedding vows a spouse will say before saying “I do”?). Them feeding each other their burgers is the equivalent of them feeding each other wedding cake.

And while you didn’t specifically mention this, I am also very appreciative of the scenes we have of Kant and Style – it really highlights how they are not just besties, but also brothers. The way they beautifully cornered Lilly (Kant/Style looked flawless in those outfits) to them both finding ways to have the upper hand of Captain Christ as a backup plan (Style by making the fake passports while Kant staying true to his nature – slyly obtaining blackmailed material of the captain – and it’s quite telling isn’t it even with them asking for the Captain’s help, both of them instinctively do not trust him, hehe).  Personally, my favourite scene for the whole episode is Style breaking apart in Kant’s arms while Kant is trying hard to hold it together when his heart is also shattered into pieces while their loves ones are taken to prison.

Teaser for Finale/Ep 12 and what I expect to see

Also, anon – we still have EP 12. Not only are we getting our unhinged besties volunteering in prison (unexpected twist by Jojo again!) – I am hoping we will have sex scenes from all 4 boys (or at least heavy make out scenes lol), but one of the assistant director that usually post BTS of the show actually mentioned there are so many BTS photos of FK he wants to put but he could only do so during the finale (which kind of hint that we are getting good scenes from them!)

Plus, Khaotung mentioned in the recent fanmeet, he/First will be slow dancing on stage (and don’t we have the BTS footage of our couples slow dancing in the series)?

Also, don’t forget, we still haven’t got the “sweet scene” of our boys (in their boxers) in Kant’s bed (both Jojo and First confirmed there is another scene on that bed)

Bonus if I can get actual proposals/weddings but otherwise, I will take what we have from Ep 11 as them being married, and they just need to make it official once they are out of prison.

As for your comment on THK will benefit from another 3-4 episodes – look, in general, I think most Thai BLs can benefit from more episodes (The Eclipse was meant to have 14 episodes but due to budget constraint, they had to make do with 12). That’s the reality, while the quality of Thai BLs are improving over time – compared to mainstream media in Thai (we won’t even mentioned Western media), the budgets for Thai BLs/queer media in general are limited. Even more so for the show that Jojo tends to produce. Did you realise his shows doesn’t have or very limited sponsors? (for example, we don’t see Lay chips/Oishi Teas or the boys blatantly putting on sunscreens to “promote” the sponsors of the shows?). And for that, I will forgive some inconsistencies, sloppiness and plot holes because they don’t have bottomless budgets.

***I am going to put here – when Cat for Cash starts airing – see people start complaining about the “ads/sponsors” being on blatant displays during the show when its those ads that supplement the budget for the show

Staying positive regarding FK (and BL world in general)

So, I’m not sure your last sentence has more meaning than just FK general presence in THK? Are you perhaps alluding to fans in Twitter crying war with how jobless FK is when compared to other GMTMV CPs? Or how they don’t have a reality TV show of their own? Or brand sponsorships? Or how Somsoms are not pulling their weight on trending on Twitter? (if you are, well – I have my own thoughts/views of this particular matter, which I am not going to elaborate in this ask).

But, if you are asking how I stay positive in general, I made a promise to myself – if I really dislikes something, I will give myself 24 hours before writing/saying anything I will regret🫣. And most of the time, the things I am angry about just seems trivial after that. I also block a lot of users who are just blatantly prejudice against Thai BL (ok, in general, GMMTV productions) – if you have been in the tumblr long enough, you will know a specific group that should not be named (they are my Voldemort) who prided themselves as unbiased “academics” and write long meta essays that frankly highlights their biases even more.

I also work in the medical field – and well, having to deal with anxious (sometimes very angry) patients/family members means I have abundance of patience (and when I ran out of them, I know it times for me take a holiday 😅)

Anyway, I am always reminded that we consume media for fun – don’t take things so seriously. And personally, FK being their lovely self on social media is enough to make me happy. They have never expressed any hatred/criticism towards their work/GMMTV. I also think it is quite telling that none of the Thai fans have mentioned any dissatisfaction with the scenes we have of FK or series, so far?

(Can’t resist putting up our KantBison pictures hehe)

[vakariansyndrome]

Veremos

This fic is for @vorchagirl as part of the ‘Dellamorte Villa’ server’s first Valentine’s Day exchange.

Summary: Lucanis is sick, and Rook is eager to take care of him. Cooking is his love language, so she will try. Surely an easy feat, no? (Rated M for suggestive language and some stuff.) Whole fic under the cut, but can also be found on AO3, here. Words to know: Es solo sopa: it’s only soup Veremos: We’ll see Esto es venganza: This is revenge Perfecto: perfect

~O~

“You’ve a fever.”

Rook presses the back of her hand to Lucanis’ forehead. He doesn’t move, doesn’t swat her away, which is how she knows she’s right. His skin is too warm, a clammy pallor dulling his usually vibrant umber tone.

He lets out a controlled exhale through his nose. “I’m fine.”

“Sure,” she snorts. “And I’m the Empress of Orlais.”

He arches an eyebrow, decidedly teasing. “I would say you lack the accent.”

“Lucanis.” She levels him with a look. “You’re sick. You need rest. That means I’m staying here, and Harding will manage things with the team.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

A pause. His eyes take an awkwardly long perusal over her face, and she resists the urge to avert her gaze. 

Whatever he finds in her eyes, however, makes him sigh, and he leans his head back against the wall. “Fine.”

“Good.” She stands, already rolling up her sleeves. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

His lips press together into a thin line.

Naturally, she catches it. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, now.” Her eyes narrow.

A beat. Then, slowly, “Just wondering how many ways you’ll attempt to poison me before this is over.”

She scoffs. “Es solo sopa, Lucanis.”

His lips twitch. “Veremos.”

~

An hour later, Rook sets a steaming ceramic bowl down beside him. “Eat.”

Lucanis regards it like a man observing a trap. Carefully, he cradles it in his hands. He lifts the spoon, takes a careful sip.

And stops.

Great, she thinks, her stomach sinking. “Well?” She watches him, arms crossed.

His tongue swipes along his teeth as he nods slowly. His expression betrays nothing, but she sees it—the slight shift of his jaw, the reluctant swallow.

Finally, he lets out a controlled breath. “Bold choice, seasoning it with regret.”

“It’s salt,” she says, incredulous.

“Ah.” He nods again. “I see now. You mean to preserve me for future torture.”

“It’s not that bad.” She squints at him, knowing it is probably worse than bad.

He hums, lifting the spoon again. Takes another sip, lazily, considering, as if weighing how much he values his life.

Then he looks at her, gaze raking over her features before settling on her lips.

“You’ve got that little crease between your eyebrows.” He says instead.

“What?” She cocks her head.

“Right there.” He taps his own forehead. “The one you get when you’re trying very hard not to pout.”

Her lips press together tightly. “I am not pouting,” she mutters.

“Mmm.” Another sip. Another slow swallow. “Not yet.”

Her fingers twitch. She’s tempted to grab the bowl back, but he keeps drinking, unhurried, gaze never leaving hers.

When he finishes, he sets the empty bowl aside with careful precision. Then, meeting her eyes, voice dry as ever,

“Thank you, Rook. That was… filling.”

She groans, turning on her heel. “Next one will be better.”

The smooth lilt of his voice follows her as she stalks away.

“Veremos.”

~

Rook refuses to be defeated by soup. Sandwiches, though—those are foolproof. No boiling water. No excessive seasoning. Just bread, filling, done.

She even makes coffee to go with it. A peace offering. Or maybe a distraction.

Lucanis watches her as she sets the plate and cup down beside him on the cot. His brows lift slightly. “You’re confident about this one.”

“It’s a sandwich,” she says, sitting on the floor beside him. “I’d have to be trying to mess it up.”

With a hums, he picks it up. He takes a bite and stops.

His chewing slows. Rook sees it—the tiny furrow of his brow, the way his throat works around the swallow like it’s an effort. She waits, biting her lip.

Finally, he sets the sandwich down and picks up the coffee instead. Takes a long, slow sip.

She narrows her eyes. “That bad?”

He sighs, setting the cup down. “No, no. I was simply reflecting on how precious life is.”

Her jaw clenches. “It’s just a sandwich, Lucanis.”

“Mm. Is it?” He casts a wary glance at the, clearly, offensive food. “Seems more like an experience.”

What? “Explain.”

He hums again. “You see, at first, I thought I tasted a jam of sorts. But then…no, no, something else. A surprise element.” His brow lifts curiously. “What is it?”

She hesitates, worried. He hates it. “A thin spread of honey.”

“Ah.” He nods, leaning back. “My tongue wasn’t sure if it should be afraid or intrigued.”

“Intrigued is good,” she says, smiling despite herself.

He picks up the sandwich again, inspecting it. “Is it?”

Her smile is now edged with a glare.

He grins—just a little. And then, still holding her gaze, he takes another bite.

She watches, lips parting slightly as he chews; shivering when he makes a soft sound, low in his throat.

“Mm,” he says, swallowing. “Unexpected.”

Her cheeks warm with pride, though she refuses to revel in it. “So you do like it.”

He takes another sip of coffee, warm, chocolate eyes taking her in over the rim. “It’s growing on me.”

Pursing her lips, she snickers. “Liar.”

“Possibly.” His voice is low, and so, so smooth. “But I am enjoying your effort.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Next one will be better.”

His lips curve against the cup. “Veremos, no?”

~

Lucanis looks marginally better. The fever has lessened, and though the vibrancy of his skin is still lacking, there’s more focus behind his eyes. Enough to mean he’ll be even more insufferable if this meal goes wrong.

She doesn’t let that deter her, however.

Rook sets the bowl and mug down beside him as usual, this time kneeling at his side on the floor. “Eat first,” she says, nudging the soup towards him. “Then the coffee. Trust me.”

He chuckles, and it warms her. “Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

With a delicate arch of an eyebrow, he smirks, clearly amused, yet says nothing.  He takes up the spoon and gives the broth an experimental sip.

There is no missing the moment it hits.

His expression doesn’t change, not at first. But then, gradually, his mouth opens a hair, and she watches the way he breathes, how his grip tightens ever so slightly around the spoon.

“Ah,” he says, voice dipping lower than usual. “I see. Esto es venganza.”

Rook laughs, heartily and full of cheer. “What for?” Barely recovering.

“For my remarks on everything else. Clearly.” He breathes out, and for the first time in days, he looks rightfully awake.

“Good, isn’t it?” she muses.

His tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek. “It’s something.”

“Clears the sinuses,” she offers, biting back a grin.

“And my will to live,” he murmurs. But he keeps eating, as he always does.

She isn’t sure if he does it solely for her benefit, or if he takes some sort of pleasure in being cared for. By her.

Rook studies his mouth, the way his lips part and seal around the spoon, the way he swallows. Her stomach swoops low; a traitorous warmth pools in her core. She turns, abruptly, picking up the cup of coffee.

“Here,” she says, offering it to him. “This will help.”

Lucanis takes it from her hands, fingers brushing hers. Calloused. Warm. He lifts the mug and takes a deep inhale. And then, he pauses.

Rook watches his reaction closely. The way his brow furrows—not in displeasure, but in consideration. The steam curls around his face, the scent of honey and lavender lingering, scintillating and sweet between them.

“You did this on purpose,” he murmurs.

She leans on her elbow on the cot, resting her chin in her palm. “What gave it away?”

“The smell.” He drinks, closing his eyes for a brief moment, savoring.

A heady satisfaction hums through her. “Good?”

His lashes lift, and for once, she finds herself under the full weight of his gaze. “Perfecto.”

Something about the way he says it makes her thighs clench. She swallows, fingers drumming against the edge of the creaking cot. “I do have some gifts.”

His thumb traces absently along the handle of the cup. “You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?”

She turns, angling her hips to get a better look at him. Her heart races. “Which part?”

For a glorious second, his eyes dart to her mouth.

“Say it, Lucanis.” She is acutely aware of how breathy she sounds, but can’t summon the will to care in this moment.

The knot in his throat bobs as he takes another indulgent sip. To her chagrin, he doesn’t answer.

A rarity engulfs the stretch between them, stifling. He keeps drinking, slower now, more careful. And something in his demeanor shifts.

His gaze lowers to the wispy steam, his expression stunted and difficult to read.

She feels it immediately, though. Her smirk falters. The moment is gone, and she wonders what in the Maker’s ass she did wrong.

Heaving an annoyed sigh, she rises to her feet. “Next one will be better,” she mumbles.

Silence simmers, and this time, there is no parting word from him.

~

Rook keeps this one simple. No risks. No excessive seasoning. Just warmth, something steady.

Lucanis doesn’t comment when she sets the bowl down, just picks up the spoon and eats. His fever has broken, and he looks better. Less like he’s barely holding himself together, more like the man she knows.

She watches him, the nerves easing in her chest as he eats without hesitation. His brow furrows slightly with each bite, like he’s concentrating, but not in a bad way. Like he’s pleased.

She hones in on the little things she usually keeps herself from studying—the way his lips press together as he chews, the faint scar at the corner of his mouth, the dark, errant hairs along his jaw. He needs a trim. She could offer.

Rook wants to offer.

When he sets the bowl aside, he leans back against the wall, stretching his legs out. He sighs, slow and deep, eyes closed.

She licks her lips. “Your kit. Where is it?”

He cracks an eye open. “Under.”

She kneels, grabbing the small leather satchel, then settles beside him, comb in hand. She glances at him. “Do you trust me?”

A thick dark eyebrow lifts. “I’ve already survived your cooking.”

“Fair,” she mutters with a faint smile, bringing the comb through his beard, slow, careful.

His breath hitches. Not much, just a slight pause, a subtle tension that wasn’t there before. She keeps going, fingers threading through the coarse strands, keeping her touch light.

He swallows. There it is; the way his throat bobs, the way his lips part just slightly before pressing together again.

She shouldn’t be this close. Or maybe she should.

His scent is warm, bergamot and leather and a citrusy, dark Antivan roast. Her attention is enraptured by his mouth, the way his brow knits ever so slightly. The knot in his throat twitches again.

Lucanis is quiet. Not stiff, not pulling away—just still.

She lifts her gaze and meets his eyes. A dark need is mirrored there, heavy, waiting.

Her breath hitches when his fingers curl around her wrist. And the air shifts, thins out in a dizzying wisp of a shared, labored breath. She feels the gentle press of his thumb against her erratic pulse. 

She isn’t sure what takes over her, only that she’s wanted this for so long, and now, for the first time, she can see it in him. The restraint. The fight.

So, she kisses him. Softly. Ghosting her lips over his, warm and real and right.

His shuddering breath makes her shiver, and she lingers, savoring him. Until sense slams into her. What is she doing?

Rook pulls back, heart hammering, thundering deafeningly in her ears. “Lucanis, forgive me, I…”

The words die at the look on his face. She’s shaking, yet he doesn’t let go.

His grip on her wrist squeezes, tensing along with the sharp intake of breath he takes, and before she can move, before she can think, he pulls her back in.

She gasps as he shifts, presses her down, the cot creaking beneath them. Hovering over her, he braces a hand beside her head as he gazes down at her. There is an eddy of desire in his eyes that she wants to be sucked into, straight into its depths until she forgets her own name.

She barely has time to breathe before he goes in for the kill.

All manner of softness and hesitancy are abandoned at the press of his lips, of his tongue slipping into the wet heat of her mouth. He is devouring her, ravenous as he takes his fill. Greedy hands slide up her thigh, squeezing, groping as he groans, grinding himself against her.

The sharp tug of his teeth on her lip, the taste of him on her tongue, his heat enveloping her. She is lost to him, and the only anchor is his touch, rough and gentle in the same breath. Teasing, yet eager to sate an otherwise insatiable thirst.

The way their tongues dance along one another is frantic, needy. Frayed and strained by weeks and months. Her body arches against him, arms wrapped tight around him. Her hands are everywhere, nails raking over his back, tangling in the strands of his hair, cupping his face.

A familiar hunger courses through her, warm and delicious and, oh, how she aches to have him; here, now.

They pull back, panting, their chests heaving, pressed tightly together. Tips of their noses are nearly brushing and eyes locked.

Rook can see herself in the depths of his rich, brown eyes, feel his warmth seeping into her skin, thrumming through her. The rhythm of her heartbeat echoing in the fluttering pulse of her core.

Neither moves for several moments, silent.

Then, Lucanis leans in. What she expects is his kiss, not the filth that leaves his mouth.

“Do you know what I want to do to you right now, Rook? Do you know how much I ache to be inside you, feel you writhing on my cock?” His hips buck, grinding her against the straining length of his arousal. He presses his lips to her neck, sucking and nipping at her feverish skin.

She whimpers, her head lolling to the side as her nails dig into the nape of his neck.

He continues, and she is trapped in a wanton haze of lust that pulls her under without mercy. 

“I want to hear what sounds you’ll make when I tear you apart, piece by piece, over and over again.” 

“Shit,” she answers, reveling in the feel of his lips dragging across her jaw. His grip on her hips is claiming as he drives her closer, undulating encouragingly over her.

Hungrily, his hands slide under her tunic. They are like brands upon her skin, blazing and smoldering, sending ripples of scorching heat straight to the ache between her thighs.

He presses a lingering, heated kiss against her jaw.

Her hips are rolling desperately now, seeking more friction. Lucanis obliges her, his own rocking against her, rewarding her with breathless growls in her ear. She bites her lip, struggling not to moan.

Thrilling, she vaguely recognizes. It is like the moment a fledgling takes first flight, that a Crow makes their first kill, and knows true freedom. It’s that fucking good.

Rook has waited, so very patient, and now, at last, Lucanis is finally hers. And she will have him. Maker’s breath, she is going to fucking ruin this man.

By the time he finally pulls back, it’s at the sound of the dining hall door opening and Taash’s dry, booming voice. Rook is breathless, stunned, her mind spinning—the heat between her thighs incredibly wet.

They stare at each for what she recognizes is less than a second, but feels like an eternity she embraces unabashedly.

Then she chuckles, warmly, bewildered but pleasantly so, fingers still tangled in his silken hair.

Lucanis smirks, a sheepish hint veiling the roguish gleam in his eyes as his breath brushes over her lips. “I take it, you approve?”

A warm snicker leaves her, and she graces him with a grin. “Veremos.”

----

Thanks for reading! <3

[jadeshifting]

— WHAT’S IN MY BAG? ( IN MY OUTER BANKS DR )

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★ ⋆. ࿐࿔

my bag isn’t just a bag, it’s quite literally years of belonging and experience—a testament to my whole life. a weathered bag of leather and canvas, faded from years of sun, salt, and marsh water. i’ve fixed the strap countless times and the bottom is always a little damp from seawater and mud. my belongings are a mix of necessity, habit, and some sentimentals that i won’t leave behind ( even if some are dead weight )

MAP OF KILDARE. it’s not just any map, it’s my map. i’ve spent years putting my own markings on it, mapping out the things i’ve found and learned. it’s practically more valuable than gold ( not really )

PACK OF MARLBORO GOLDS. a habit i got from my mom, i think. i’ll only smoke the golds. my sister thinks it’s a horrible habit, and i agree—but i think everyone needs at least one of those

MOONSTONE ROSARY. a good luck charm, i literally never let it leave my possession. i’m convinced if i let it go for one second i’ll magically pitch of the side of a cliff or something

DIGITAL CAMERA. waterproof, obviously. ( i learned my lesson after the last three )

BUCK KNIFE. old, well-worn, i use it for everything. shucking oysters, cutting rope, and defending myself if necessary. it’s sharp enough to gut a fish, slice through reeds, and anything else i need

TRUCK KEYS. mind you, the truck hasn’t run in ten years. i dunno why i carry them, acting like it’ll make the engine magically clear of dry-rot and rust. still, i do

HEART SUNGLASSES. cheap, plastic firetruck red. they’re shitty and practically block out zero light, but i keep them cause my sister gave them to me and cause they’re kinda cute sometimes

ALABASTER POCKETKNIFE. worn over the years, with ‘Fool For Love’ engraved on the side. it was a hand-me-down from my mom, and that couldn’t have been more true for her

HANDFUL OF SEASHELLS. smooth, and mostly pinky blue, or opalescent off-white. i’ve been meaning to display them or frame them, but i always forget, so they litter the bottom of my bag instead

PAIR OF SHORTS. my clothes get torn to shreds and soaked practically every day i work, so it’s good to have a spare in case i have to go somewhere afterwards

BEER CAN. unopened, lukewarm, dented, probably shaken up all to shit. i forgot it was in there, actually. i don’t even like beer

HAWAIIAN VANILLA PERFUME. a brand new bottle i just splurged on. it’s the only perfume i’ve ever worn since i got my first bottle, for my birthday back in middle school

DECK OF CARDS. i made it a personal goal to learn as many card games as possible, so far i know at least thirty—though some are a lot more boring than others

BAG OF PEACHES. that i bought earlier, perched sooo lightly on the top so they don’t get smushed. i was planning on roasting them ( my sister and i like them roasted and served with a scoop of ice cream ) ( i don’t know who came up with it either, it’s a family ‘recipe’ )

SILVER WATCH. i took it off so it wouldn’t get waterlogged, it’s a shiny antique

SPRAY-ON SUNSCREEN. i know it doesn’t work as well, but i’d need thirty hours in a day to have the time to slather on lotion sunscreen every time i was charring out in the sun—it’s just not efficient

HEADPHONES. waterproof and over-ear. the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs is roaring and i’m convinced it would’ve made me deaf by now if i couldn’t opt to listen to The Cranberries instead

COPY OF ‘CIRCE’ BY MADELINE MILLER. i have to hang it out to dry on the clothes line out back, it got wet :(

WATERPROOF MASCARA. i quite literally won’t get caught dead without it. you can take anything away from me BUT my eyelashes

SPOON. sturdy and metal, used to pit peaches or avocados in a pinch, or dig into a coconut if i’m really desperate

COCONUT OIL. in a really sketchy-looking glass bottle with “coconut oil” scrawled across the front in black marker. still, it’s imperative, good for everything—cooking, soothing, moisturizing when the sun tries to crack your skin off, etc

WATERWORN POLAROID. of just me and my sister. the edges are perpetually damp, but i’m careful to keep it from tearing

HERMIT CRAB SHELL. my sister’s hermit crab is about to change shells, i told her i’d bring a really good one home for him. i literally spent two weeks searching the beach until i found this one

GOLD LIGHTER. for smoking or starting a fire, i can count on it rain-or-shine

LEATHER GLOVES. the oyster shells are razor-sharp, i already have plenty of tiny, shiny scars to prove it. the gloves help a little, even if they’re permanently stained with salt and mud

CRACKED COMPASS. it’s been broken for a long, long time, but i know my directions well enough that i’ve never made the effort to get it fixed

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★ ⋆. ࿐࿔

[anothermeforcompany]

Another Blurb : LADS Zayne

Due to the upcoming event where the LADS men collectively in feral state, thus born this blurb. Also I want to have LADS men x male character. They are rare and those fine men are too good to pass up. This blurb take place in Catch-22.

Warning : Dubcon, manipulation, torture, my character is not MC!, 18+, description of violence, mention of rape, hurt and comfort, minor do not interract.

Enjoy ~

Many people doubt how a normal man can control a prison for praedators. But it is easier than you think, because when people get poor, they get creative in order to live well.

Tenzin can't afford kindness when the world is unkind to himself. In this dangerous world where praedators get infected by some kind of virus and goes feral, it's too dangeorus to be normal or kind. The only way he can control those enhanced peoples are using a planted chip on their spinal cord. It take away their autonomy and make them obeying his every words. Many says it is inhuman to take away someone's free will, even criminals, and he only done it to willing participant. That's why the Board abolished this protocol in order to keep up morale within free praedators, but they also employ him, the creator of the chip, to be the director of praedator prison to keep the criminals in line.

.

There's a distinct difference between a praedator and a normal person, you can see it from the way they are dressed. Praedator with their enhanced physique can wear whatever clothes they want, while normal person bundled up against any weather. So Tenzin more often than not seen wearing long leather coat over his warden uniform. Running a prison is no different than running a school, those praedators are like brats who likes to test his patience once they got used to their powers. Sometimes he indulges them out of boredom, but he wasn't in the mood today since one of his warden is infected.

The prisioners knows from his look alone that the Director doesn't come to the Block to play, so they keep their mouths shut as he pass. Tenzin walks towards the higher security prison meant for dangerous praedators that either insane or know too much. Zayne Li belong to the second category since he is one of the prison wardens who contracted the strange virus.

Tenzin put in the code before the security sensor deactivated so he can get in the room. It activated again once he's inside and standing over the chained Zayne. The good doctor slumped on the bolted chair, the jagged marks on his face shows he is infected.

"Director..." Zayne lift his head, apprehension in his eyes as he face his own boss.

Tenzin walking towards him, stopping just out of reach if Zayne lunge at him. "Don't bother to lie" he cut off before the doctor can speak more. "I know you got infected because of her"

Zayne snarled as he sensed the hostility, his instincts screaming for him to tear and maul him. Tenzin coldly watching Zayne fighting with his lowering sanity, serve him right for playing around while working. "Do not... touch... her !" Zayne gritted out

SMACK

Zayne's head turned from the slap of leather covered hand. "You're in no position of demand here" Tenzin step closer and seize his chin in his hand, leaning down to look eyes to eyes. His voice is hard as he speak, his grip surprisingly strong. "And since you are one of my prisioners now, it's about time you know how I can keep my position as director"

The restrainst opened with his thumb-print and Zayne spring out to attack. Tenzin is ready as he used his momentum to turn their position and kicked Zayne against the bars. The security sensor light up and sending volts of electricity that makes the doctor scream. Xavier, Rafayel, and Sylus watching from their own prisons as the director 'welcome' their newest cellmate.

Tenzin is not a praedator, but he is a cunning man who knows how to use what he have. This prison is his territory and no one can top him in this place. The doctor used ice to fight but Tenzin hardly bothered beyond a slight shiver at the change of temperature. Tenzin fights without honor as there's none if he fails.

The doctor caught, head pushing back so he won't trigger the security sensor. Tenzin won't get caught in the current since he's covered in head to toe with non-conductive material, so it's safe to handle electricity for him. "Aaaarrrgghh !" Zayne convulsing as Tenzin pushing him flat against the bars, electricity running through his nerves like hot needles, quick yet plenty. The fight leaving his frame as he slumped on the director, tears running down his face as he trembles in those cruel embrace. "No more... no..."

Tenzin lift the doctors in his arms, grunting slightly since Zayne isn't a small man. This isn't enough to leave a permanent harm on a praedator but it's enough to teach him a lesson that Tenzin isn't to be messed with. Especially in the Frenzy state where praedators lose their common sense and return to basic instinct. Tenzin make sure every prisioner, sane or insane, knows he is the top.

The director walk deeper into the cell where there's a small cot with thin blanket. He laid Zayne on it and throw the blanket over him. "Behave" Tenzin stated, "And I won't treat you badly"

Zayne nodded, as he knows now not to challenge the director. There's a rustle and something sweet pressed to his lips. Zayne parted his lips at the first taste, his tongue swirled around the orb in his mouth, wearing away the milky chocolate coating. Tenzin smiled in amusement as the doctor closed his eyes as he enjoy the sweet treat.

Tenzin rise from the bed and leave his newest prisioner. He'll have to contact his executor, Nalo, to return soon. That girl have thrown a wrench in his peace by infecting his warden. Councilman Caleb can protect her, but it won't be forever.

.

Zayne have been suffering from frenzy episodes where he fights other prisioners and wardens. They take away his privilege to go outside and put him in isolated ward after he bite off the cheek of another prisioner in the communal bath. The straight jacket and muzzle keep other wardens safe while they wait for Nalo. Tenzin's executioner. He's the only officer aside Tenzin who can deal with SSS class prisioner alone since his power is Void that can cancel praedator's power.

"Director, why are you here ?" the warden that monitoring Zayne ask

"Nalo is occupied with a task, I'll take his place" Tenzin replied before he send away other officers. He step into the isolation cell and activate the security sensors before turning off the surveilance. The room is meant for punishment for unruly prisioners. Nalo and Tenzin rarely use this since the sane SSS prisioners knows not to do unnecessary violence while the insane ones won't even get a chance.

Zayne's sanity level have returned to normal, but he still remember the crunch of bones of the praedator that he bite off. It horrify him, how easy he turned into a senseless monster because of this virus. He keep quiet, trying to warp his head around his new beastly state and because he knows it's useless to reason using his virus. The fact remains he tried to kill another praedator and he knows he deserve this punishment.

Click

Tenzin take off his gloves, standing before the doctor chained to the concrete wall by his prison collar. He crouch down to Zayne's level and reach behind his head to take off his muzzle. The doctor flinch back, looking up at him with puzzled eyes tinged with ridicule. Why would Tenzin wants to take off his muzzle ?

Tenzin poked his forehead, "There's no benefit in being a saint in this hellhole, doctor" he said and insistently take off the muzzle despite Zayne shaking his head. The muzzle is a torture device inspired by Scold's bridle, keeping the prisioner's mouth shut with the threat of pain from the sharp metal shoved in their mouth. However Tenzin knows Zayne well enough to know he is safe from the doctor. Tenzin hold his chin securely as he remove the muzzle. "I'm not blind, doctor"

Zayne curled his body as those words means Tenzin knows. He sees that Zayne was about to be raped in the bathroom by multiple men. Ice creeping under his soles, up the concrete walls as Zayne losing his composure. Tenzin's breath come out as visible smoke as he take off his coat and drape it over Zayne. He close it over the straight jacket and activate the heating mode.

"Cry out, no one is going to hear you"

It's funny how those words would usually makes other quakes powerlessly but Zayne take comfort in it as he cut off sobs bubbling in his throat. Tenzin rubbing his thumb over his lips to release it from his bite and let the doctor cry. The director take liberty to sit by Zayne and draw him to a side hug. He won't push the doctor's boundary more than this.

.

Zayne knows it's late but he can see it now. The director isn't without compassion even though he's a manipulative bastard. He keep prisioners in order and indulge them like an uncle with too much kids. He can be kind, he just chose not to in order to preserve himself. It's selfish but aren't all man like that ? You can't help anyone if you can't help yourself.

Zayne have been feeling weird lately. He would blush whenever he caught sight of the director, usually in passing since Tenzin likes to patrol the entire area in the middle of the day. In his cell, he would dreams of warm coat reek with bergamot and full clothed body instead of dainty hands and doe eyes. Maybe it's the virus, maybe it's himself, but Zayne is going insane with longing for the director he contemplate causing a ruckus just to see him.

One day, Nalo drag back another dangerous prisioner, the elusive councilman, Caleb. Tenzin welcome him like he did to all prisioner with Nalo watching from outside. After that, he throw the councilman to his cot and walking out together with Nalo.

"You're away for too long, I thought you died in a ditch somewhere"

Tenzin pause a moment to stare at Nalo when Sylus calling out for the executioner with sultry smile.

"Not a word" Nalo said as he stride towards Sylus who smiles like a cat with canary. "Strip" he ordered without missing a beat as he open Sylus's cage.

"What happens to 'wine and dine' ?" Sylus said teasingly as the executioner who activated the security sensor behind him. Those men are too cautionous, not even sex can make them let down their guard.

Nalo take out an insulated lunch box from his hip back and held it out to Sylus. "Dinner, then strip" he said bluntly.

Tenzin huffed, shaking his head and left the SSS class cell area. Sylus and Nalo's relationship are none of his business as long as it doesn't affect his peace. He missed the longing look directed at him from the doctor's cell.

What will he do ?

[severus-snaps]

I have just realised that I forgot to address 4 amidst some edits.

4. "He invented spells to KILL James. Like... Sectumsempra is not a normal thing dude, we saw what happened to Draco" You know what else isn't normal? Finding a classmate so annoying that you try to murder them using your friend as a murder weapon, but I guess Sirius is off the hook because he didn't manage it in the end.

Snape invented one spell that can't even cut beyond the flesh, and the only times we see him wield it are to save Remus, and:

Snape had directed his wand straight at James; there was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of James’s face, spattering his robes with blood. James whirled about; a second flash of light later, Snape was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of graying underpants. Many people in the small crowd watching cheered. Sirius, James, and Wormtail roared with laughter.

Which followed:

Several people watching laughed; Snape was clearly unpopular. Wormtail sniggered shrilly. Snape was trying to get up, but the jinx was still operating on him; he was struggling, as though bound by invisible ropes. 'You--wait,' he panted, staring up at James with an expression of purest loathing, 'you-- wait!' 'Wait for what?' said Sirius coolly. 'What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?' Snape let out a stream of mixed swear words and hexes, but with his wand ten feet away nothing happened. 'Wash out your mouth,' said James coldly. 'Scourgify!' Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape's mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him--

And:

years of implied (and explicit, if you consult this page from Pottermore) 'relentless bullying'

bullying a weird, poor, unpopular kid - right from the moment they got on the train, before anyone tries the "but Snape was a future death eater"

Snape was an eleven-year-old boy who later became so used to the Marauders' attacks that he "reacted so fast it was as though he had been expecting an attack" when he so much as heard James call him by his 'nickname', Snivellus I expect you could argue that a name like Snivellus and the 'wipe your nose' comment could be due to Snape being 'greasy', but he isn't described as such in the memories in DH, if I recall - so maybe they're also calling him a crybaby. A twofer. Good going.

and also Sirius had tried to kill Snape BEFORE all this, and it was Snape's steadfast belief that James only saved him from Remus to save his friends from getting in trouble

So, Snape created a spell that could do minimal damage, when inflicted properly - damage so controlled that James Potter was laughing moments later, despite a 'gash' on his cheek. Snape cast it by "pointing" his wand; Harry "[waved] his wand wildly". "Sectumsempra was always a specialty of Snape’s", according to Lupin, so he knew how to control it - Harry did not.

I also once went into a whole other meta about how Lupin would even know it, if Snape could cast it nonverbally; whether verbal vs nonverbal casting affects the strength of a spell, and whether Snape knew that; the true abilities and heal-ability (is that a word?) of the spell; and whether the Marauders ever used Sectumsempra (or other HBP spells) against Snape, here.

In any case, it's not as bad as people make out; it couldn't even cut through the bones of an Inferi with Harry's full steam behind it. It cut off an ear because ears are soft, and Snape was aiming for a hand to disarm another DE and save Remus. George was healed by Molly in about ten minutes - about the same time it took Snape to heal Draco enough to get him to the hospital wing - and George's ear just couldn't be re-attached.

Given Snape's generally defensive nature - he teaches Harry Expelliarmus, after all, spits venom but draws the line at physical violence 99% of the time in the books, and Bellatrix accuses him of "the usual empty words" and "slithering out of action" - and given how Snape attempted to use Sectumsempra once to disarm someone, and another time in retaliation to an ongoing attack - I expect that was all it was designed for. Bloody, but effective.

I think snape was a good man he gave his life to profesor dumbledore in order to protect what Lily has left and that is harry. His story is actually so sad

I absolutely hate his character tbh.

1. He was creepily obsessed with Lily. He called her slurs n then said she was his best friend n crush.

2. He bullied innocent kids. Like.... why?! What did they do?! He traumatized God knows how many kids n this bullying can't be excused on past bullying

3. Even if he was bullied, he didn't mature up when James did. James became better for Lily later. But Snape never left the grudge. He didn't give 2 shits about the fact that James was Lily's husband.

4. He invented spells to KILL James. Like... Sectumsempra is not a normal thing dude, we saw what happened to Draco

5. He didn't care about the fact that a whole family was dying. Forget about the whole family, he didn't even care about a baby being in danger. He just wanted to save Lily. He was like "Let her husband and 1 year old kid die, but save her"

6. He walked over the dead body of her husband, ignored the troubled crying kid n straight went to hug Lily's dead body. Like... bruh... first take the kid n run!

7. He was a death eater but he changed sides when he realized that LILY was in danger. He thought it's okay if her child dies. But then he realized Lily was gonna get killed too, he was like, "I'm gonna change sides to keep my obsession safe"

8. He didn't save Harry out of humanity like a normal person would. He didn't save Harry cuz he was Harry James Potter, he instead bullied him due to that. When it came to saving, he saved Lily's son, not Harry (James) Potter

Hope you get what I'm saying😁🙂

[scaryanneee]

crying in the data mines rn

[starry-bi-sky]

tales of the passerine - danny fenton being bruce wayne's first kid

okay okay. so this is like a continuation/elaboration of my oneshot/prompt i wrote about the idea that Danny was the first batkid. We have a lot of aus where he joins the family after the rest of the bats do, right? So hey! Lets shake things up a bit. Danny is the first to be adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Danny's parents and unfortunately Jazz die shortly after the events of TUE -- how so? I was gonna say an ecto-filter explosion, that would call back to the TUE explosion and trauma behind that. But lets do something new! Carbon-monoxide poisoning.

It's not too unexpected for something to break in the Fenton house, especially with the Fenton parents' questionable understanding of proper weapon handling and lab safety. The water heater broke from a stray shot by one of the weapons, and was promptly MacGyver'd incorrectly. Danny went to stay with Tucker for a guys' night, and came back to a dead silent house.

(Danny's neighbors got a very unfortunate shock when he ran to the next house over in hysterics.)

There was a lot of shuffling around with CPS, the police. People had to be called in to handle the equipment in the lab, and the GIW was rumoring to show up in aid to clearing the scene. When Danny heard of that, he immediately went and dismantled the ghost portal to the best of his abilities. He burned the physical blueprints of all his parents' inventions, their blueprints on the ghost portal, and their most dangerous weapons were destroyed beyond recognition. Anything to prevent the GIW from getting their hands on his parents' tech.

It opened up another investigation, but he was not under the list of suspects. He was placed in the care of Vlad Masters, where they then went back to the rebuilt castle mansion in Wisconsin. Danny, terrified of the future that has once passed and may do so again, shuts down in his grief. Inadvertently, he ends up somewhat repressing his ghost half. Something Vlad, who is grieving Madeline but relishing in Jack's demise and his custody of Daniel, is not very happy with.

Vlad's... gone into a bit of a mental health spiral. He's becoming increasingly possessive over Daniel, the final remnants of his friends and a liminal being like him. He doesn't like that Danny's repressing his ghost half -- both out of genuine concern as a ghost, but also because of his desire to control Danny and groom him into the perfect son. If you ever had a phase where you read Dark SBI found family fics, first off; me too bro, and second off; those are the vibes I'm thinking of.

Danny's mentally shut down from grief! And fear. He's dropped into a bad depressive state -- paralyzed with grief and the terror of the inevitable. Clockwork saved his parents because he believes in second chances, but what's the point of that when his family ended up dead anyways? Danny doesn't wanna believe that he's destined to become evil, and he's holding out onto that hope, but it's a thin line, and he feels utterly hopeless and trapped. He hasn't used his powers or ghost form since he trashed the lab, and Vlad has alarms set up to prevent him from trying to escape.

He's also unintentionally cut off Sam and Tucker -- both of whom are so scared and concerned for Danny too, and are trying their damndest to reach out to him. He keeps ignoring their texts. Danny basically haunts Vlad's manor. He goes out to eat if he has to, attends parties Vlad drags him to, and stays in his room all day if he can.

At parties, Vlad doesn't allow Danny to leave his side, or really talk to anyone -- not that Danny wants to. A product of Vlad's increasing possessiveness. Well, he almost doesn't let Danny leave his side. Danny has a habit of slipping off to hide somewhere for the parties whenever he can, and Vlad reluctantly allows it so long as he stays alone.

This becomes an advantage when eventually, Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham after missing for years, and holds a bright charity ball to celebrate the return. Vlad has been chomping at the bits to get his hands on Wayne Industries, and with the return of its owner there is no better opportunity to wipe out his rival. He goes, and he as normal, brings Daniel with him.

Vlad thinks Wayne will bleed his little heart out for Daniel's poor orphan sob story -- he's a fellow orphan himself, after all. He's not wrong; Wayne's little heart will bleed, just not in the way that benefits him.

Bruce sees Vlad and Danny approaching before they're even close enough to introduce themselves - and like with many of the children he will soon come to care for, it's like someone set a mirror into the past right in front of him.

Danny Fenton's suit is tailor-made for him, and despite the fact that it's his perfect size, the sag in his shoulders, the ducked down head, and the way he hunches into himself all pictures the image of a child in shoes too big for him. There's a far away, glazed over look in his eyes and grief marble-cut into the lines of his face. There's not enough makeup in the world that will hide the dark circles under his eyes.

("My nephew, Daniel Fenton." Vlad's hands are possessive on Danny's shoulders. Bruce immediately notices the way the boy tenses under his touch. "His parents passed recently, and as his godfather I was designated his guardian.") ("I'm so sorry, the loss must've been terrible.") ("Yes, carbon-monoxide poisoning caused it. Daniel was out with friends, when he came home... they had already passed.") (Bruce immediately dislikes that Vlad shared the details of their death unprompted -- he likes it even less when Danny flinches at the reminder and hunches into himself.)

Danny runs off at some point earlier into the charity. At this point, parties are still being held at Wayne Manor (because iirc google search mentioned that was a thing at first before it was changed), so he disappears and hides in one of the empty rooms nearby. It just so happens to be the same room Bruce Wayne hides in when he needs a break from all of the socialization.

Thus begins a long, long process of trust. Bruce can't reveal his hand as being smarter than he looks, but he can be compassionate. Kindness needs no measure of intelligence. He keeps Danny company for as long as he can before he runs the risk of being found.

Rinse and repeat. Vlad insistently wants Wayne Industries, and he'll go to as many Wayne parties as he can to get his hooks into the man. The problem is that Bruce Wayne is never alone, and getting him alone is impossible. Finding him too. It's like the man never stops moving. Always talking to someone, always circling somewhere. He orbits around the room as if he isn't the sun of the Gotham Elite's solar system.

Danny's had such repetitive behavior that Vlad never thinks to believe that Bruce Wayne is disappearing to go talk to him. That "Vlad's" son is even interacting with him at all. Danny never gives him a reason to think so, and neither does Bruce.

Danny doesn't actually acknowledge Bruce until a handful of parties in, where he hands Bruce a small slip of paper he smuggled in that says; "don't trust Vlad". Danny's face stays carefully blank, but he's so tense that his hands are trembling, and he's purposely looking away from him. Bruce plasters a smile onto his face, slips the paper into his pocket, and tells him "okay".

(he's been busy with his own goals with the mafia, but he sets aside time to investigate Vlad Masters. He was holding off. Until now.)

Danny does eventually start speaking to Bruce, he's starting to really like the guy. He's starting to see a little hope, even as Vlad is starting to get more and more agitated with him the more he refuses to use his powers.

He reaches out to Sam and Tucker again, and starts trying to reconnect with them. Vlad has spyware on his phone, and he limits the amount of times he can talk to them. A weird parental control lock of some sort that leaves a time limit on how long he can talk to them for. 30 minutes. Danny doesn't tell them anything about Mr. Wayne.

Danny, slowly, wants out of here, and he's slowly gathering the motivation to do it. Vlad is genuinely scaring him -- and Danny wonders just how truthful the past-future Vlad was when he told him that Danny wanted his ghost half separate. He starts trying to come up with an escape plan.

Vlad has anti-ghost wards everywhere around the mansion, and while they're always on, they boost to full power at sunset. The doors and windows are always locked, all main exits have alarms set on them. The only reason it's not super extensive is because Danny hasn't tried leaving at all yet, so Vlad hasn't had to tighten anything.

At night, Vlad locks the door to his room and puts up an anti-ghost ward around the room. The mansion is on the outside westward side of Madison, more entrenched in rural Wisconsin. The closest town is a four-way stop sign with one house on three corners, and an open bar on the fourth. Not much to go.

He refuses to go to Sam and Tucker; Vlad would look there first. It's too dangerous. Vlad would sound alarm bells and have a manhunt looking for him, Danny can't risk going just anywhere. Too much risk of being found, sold out, or caught. There's really nowhere for him to hide.

Until there is. Bruce is telling Danny about the history of Wayne Manor, and says, as casually as saying the weather; "The manor has dozens of empty rooms, I'm sure Alfred wouldn't mind filling another one if he could." And quietly, hesitantly, Bruce places a careful hand on Danny's shoulder, unrestrictive and gentle; "He wouldn't mind getting one ready for you if you need one."

And there it is. There's his out.

Danny, just as quietly, replies; "I'll keep that in mind."

The ball starts rolling.

Now I've been trying to summarize this au as much as possible for length convenience, but Vlad has been steadily growing more and more controlling. More emotionally manipulative. More agitated at Danny for not using his powers.

He wants Wayne Industries under his thumb but he's been steadily growing more and more concerned with Danny. He's started grabbing him, yanking him around, shaking him; trying to goad him into using his powers. He gets angry when Danny doesn't react, or tells him he doesn't want to use his powers. He hasn't outright attacked him, but he's getting there. This has been happening over the time it takes for Bruce to indirectly offer Danny sanctuary at his home.

It all comes to a head when Vlad stops going to parties at all -- something Danny has to pretend he isn't upset about -- because Vlad doesn't want him around other people anymore. Vlad rarely goes now without him, and only leaves to go to a Wayne function or to handle something at VladCo.

Danny can't wait for Vlad to leave long enough to escape. So he leaves during the night of a big storm. Vlad's locked him in his room, but Danny doesn't bother trying to go for it; he goes to the alarmed window instead. Danny's been repressing his ghost half so long that he can't access his powers immediately anymore -- he can feel it, he knows its there, but he can't quite reach it.

He breaks the lock by hand.

Immediately the alarm goes off through the entire castle, filling the room with red, and he scrambles for the rope the Wisconsin Ghost left for him a few months back. Danny's already out and climbing down the side of the castle before Vlad even reaches his door -- the only good thing about the entire room being ghost-proof is that Vlad can't get in that way.

The rope ends before it reaches the bottom, and he's still twenty feet in the air. It won't kill him if he lands it right. Danny takes his chances, and drops. He breaks his ankle, but he survives.

And he fucking books it to the back garden. He hears Vlad shrieking over the thunder and rain.

I'll save the full experience for a future oneshot, but Danny makes it out into the nearby woods and forcibly experiences what it's like to be in a horror game, trying to hide from the thing that's hunting you. There's only one thing going through his mind; "i'm going to die"

I have this mental image for this scene. Very stereotypical horror imo. Where Danny is hiding behind a tree, with a hand over his mouth, and Vlad is a few feet away from him, glowing ominously red through the trees, trying to search for him.

Danny doesn't get away from this unscathed, but he does get away alive. That's all he could ask for. He gets away by getting his ghost half awakened long enough to transform into Phantom and fly to Gotham.

But he gets to Wayne Manor, he gets to Bruce. Or, at least, Alfred answers the door from his insistent pounding. Danny's just in tears and Alfred gets him in the living room, wrapped in a towel, with ice on his swollen leg before he has to step out and alert Bruce.

Bruce already breaks multiple traffic laws on a nightly basis. And that's just with the sheer existence of the batmobile itself, not including the speeding and military artillery attached. He breaks double the amount trying to speed back to the cave and get out of the suit.

Right off the bat: Bruce will know, at least before Dick enters the picture, about danny's powers. He'll figure out something considering the fact that Danny traveled from Wisconsin to New York in a single night. That'll be a bit of complicated affair, but I've already got something in mind.

Actually it'll probably be very soon after Danny joins the family, because Bruce tries to offer to fight for custody for Danny - the state Danny was in at arrival is clear enough evidence for a trial. But Danny immediately shuts it down, says it's not going to work and then Vlad will know Danny's with him and he won't be safe. He tells him that Vlad cannot know Danny was with Bruce.

Danny's biggest regret was not telling his parents he was a halfa, and while he doesn't want to tell mister wayne (yet), he does tell him about Vlad being one. He needs to know why Danny can't be seen with Bruce. So he tells him, and Danny's current plan is to just hide out from Vlad until he turns 18. That way, he has no more legal jurisdiction over him. After that? He's not sure.

And to wrap this up, since this has already gotten very long and I can make more posts about this au later; I've thought about it, and I'm going to say that Danny does become a vigilante before Dick enters the scene. He goes by, as you probably guessed; Nightingale. "Gale" for short.

[heartorbit]

WAOT WERE U THE ONE TSUKASA COSPLAYER AT MIKUEXPO GIVING OUT MIKU STICKERS TO THE PJSK FANS

THATS ME!!!!! i didn't mean to just give them to pjsk fans help but i severely underestimated how many i should've made and cut out .. so i just ended up giving them to cosplayers or people who said hi to me .... T_T

THERE'S ALSO THIS SUPER CUTE BRACELET SOMEBODY RAN UP TO ME AND GAVE ME AND I TREASURE IT SO I NEED TO ADD IT TO THE POST AND SHOW IT OFF .. WAH!!!! ITS SO CUTE LOOK!!!!!!

[kittenfangirl20]

Adam: That sounds wonderful, thank you. Where are we going?

Lucifer: You look perfect, I knew it would look perfect on you when I saw it.

Lucifer: To the Lust Ring, to a place called Ozzie’s. It is the lustful lounge owned by the Sin of Lust himself. I would also like to take you to a fancy hotel to stay for the night.

Adam: It sounds very fancy and romantic.

Lucifer: It is, I have something for you to wear.

Adam: Really? Thank you.

Lucifer got Adam dressed in a beautiful dark blue gown that was low cut.

Adam: Thank you, you make me feel so beautiful.

Once Adam put on some makeup and flowers on his horns, Lucifer escorted Adam to his limo. When they got in the limo, Lucifer they poured them each a flute of champagne. Adam was enjoying the view from the window. Once in the Lust Ring, they stepped out of the limo and Adam noticed many people were looking at him.

Adam: Luci, they are looking at me.

Lucifer: Of course, you are the most beautiful person here. They are jealous that I have you for a date.

Adam blushed at how sweet Lucifer was being. For the first time in a long time Adam felt beautiful. They went ahead of everyone in the line and they were let in ahead of everyone since Lucifer was the King. Adam watched the place in amazement, there were couples dressed in gorgeous outfits for the upcoming holiday.

Ozzie: Well, who is this beauty?

Lucifer: Hello Ozzie, this my boyfriend Adam, I have been wanting to spoil him for Valentine’s Day.

Ozzie: Well you have come to the right place and I can assure you that your taste has greatly improved when it comes to romantic partners.

Lucifer: I agree.

Adam: You are very sweet.

Ozzie along with his boyfriend, Fizzarolli escorted them to a private booth. Adam looked at the menu with excitement, there was delicious food he was never able to try before.

Adam: I don’t know what I want to have, it all looks so good.

Lucifer: We can try everything if you want to.

Adam: You really mean it?

Lucifer: Of course, this is all for you.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(The gown Lucifer picked out for Adam)

Adamsapple First Valentines Day

Adam had never really done Valentine’s Day, it wasn’t a thing when he was alive like most holidays and when he got to heaven he never dated anyone worth celebrating it with.

But now in Hell and with Lucifer, the devil insisted that they do something special.

Adam: Like what? Isn’t just like, guaranteed sex night?

Lucifer: It’s more than just sex Adam, Valentine’s Day is a day where you can really show your partner how much you mean to them. And they have all kinds of special chocolates come out.

Adam perked up at the thought of chocolate, he’s never been good at romantic things he’s tried and sometimes it fails miserably.

But he wants to try. For Lucifer he wants to give it a try and maybe even surprise him somehow.

Adam: So what will we be doing?

Lucifer smiled and kissed him: That would ruin the surprise if I told you dove. You’ll just have to wait until the day comes.

Adam groaned but he understood anything that Lucifer planned for him was always worth the wait. He just didn’t like waiting.

Adam: Alright keep your secrets.

Lucifer: I promise you won’t be disappointed

Adam walked down to the lobby of the hotel seeing Charlie excitedly decorating the place with hearts and little cherubic cupids. He never really noticed Valentine’s Day was a big deal in Hell like it was in Heaven.

Vaggie: No matter what place you are in, love is always important.

Adam: What?

Vaggie: I noticed the way you are looking around the place. I guess this would be your first big Valentine’s Day.

Adam: Yeah, Luci has some big surprise for me.

Vaggie: I know it will be something nice, Charlie always spoils me on Valentine’s Day.

It was interesting to compare the Morningstar that they were dating. Adam smiled when he saw Lucifer walk in with a big box of chocolates.

Lucifer: I had these brought in all the way from the Gluttony Ring for you. The filling is made of your favorite fruit of there.

Adam: You spoil me.

Lucifer had Adam sit on the couch and he pulled out one of the chocolates.

Lucifer: Open your mouth.

Adam opened his mouth and Lucifer put a chocolate in his mouth. Adam enjoyed all the flavors of the fruit and chocolate. Lucifer found Adam so adorable like this, it almost made him think of Eden. He had so much to make up for with his boyfriend. This was going to be a very romantic time for Adam.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[ghostie-gengar]

team money may have won, but love will always have my heart!

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

thasmin alternative funny ending where the end of sea devils is the same but at the start of potd it's immediately incredibly obvious they did Not stick with that "lets just be pining" deal

like sea devils flirting times ten, absolute honeymoon phase, bring back the Mattress Suggestions but #confirmed this time, dan leaves because he has a date to get to ahem ahem

crucially this remains Entirely unacknowledged by Everyone. but like in a trying to give someone a kiss and headbutting them bc you forgot youre both wearing space helmets kinda way. the first person to almost mention it is the master, who wants to point out to yaz the things they have in common, but before the doctor can bite his head off yaz has already kicked him. they both dont mention it. the master also doesnt again.

the episode functionally stays the same. the master being the doctor becomes even more poignant in his dynamic with yaz. nothing else would change. they both would prioritise the fate of the planet and the people theyre trying to help over anything theyve got going on and even more importantly i can not stress this enough this is a folie-à-deux of hardcore denial. they did this exact same thing apart for years theyve just combined forces now. it's obvious, but it can Not be acknowledged by Anyone. and it wont be. and nothing changes. the entire episode plays the exact same way if theyre deeply in love because they are. just add like three words of dialogue and an eyeroll from dan in the first third and youre done

[un-pearable]

heyo anyone looking for art resources or just generally interested in comics, check out halftone hospital!! all their resources are designed to help emulate + celebrate tangible comic style in a digital medium and there’s a ton of useful (free!) stuff, including micron, ballpoint, and sign pen brushes and a VERY useful set of halftones, personal favorite atm is their speeches and cream font that’s got a ton of useful variations for comic lettering :]

[gamemakerm]

the book i have been proofing for work might be the first proofing project i give up on before the end of the book