#they looked like they were having plenty of fun

[dream-louder]

Also, coming from an anthropology background: there were "hunter gatherer" societies where women provided the majority of the calories, because men were mostly just showing off their hunting skills and having fun but not actually catching all that much all that often, and the women were actually trying to dig up sufficient potatoes to feed everyone.

There's plenty of historical - and current - societies where women do the heavy lifting. Like, say, fetching water from the well. There's pictures of women carrying heavy loads while their husbands stroll besides them completely unburdened. Because sure, men are stronger on average, but they don't want to do the heavy lifting - and in a patriarchal society where men are in charge, women will do all the dirty and unpleasant work.

When you look at the actual history of men's work and women's work across the globe, it usually looks a hell of a lot less like the complementarian understanding of "men did Outdoor Stuff because they're stronger and better suited to it and women did Indoor Stuff because they're more social and better suited to it" and a hell of a lot more like "men had more power so they reserved the fun or high-status tasks for themselves, women had less power so they were forced to do the disgusting or unpleasant or low-status work".

And when something moves from low-status to high-status, it is suddenly redefined from women's work to men's work.

a phrase that kinda bothers me when talking about women's historical roles in europe is "cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children." you hear it so often, those exact words in the same order even. and once you learn a little more you realize that the massive gaping hole in that list is fiberwork. im not an expert and have no hard numbers, but i wouldnt be surprised if fiberwork took up nearly as much time as the other three tasks combined, so it's not a trivial omission.

it's not a hot take to say that the mass amnesia about fiberwork is linked to the belittlement of women's work in geneal, but i do think there's a special kind of illusion that is cast by "cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children." you hear that and think "well i cook and clean and take care of children (or i know someone who does) and i have a sense of how much work that is" and you know of course that cooking and cleaning were more laborious before modern technology, but still, you have a ballpark estimate you think, when in fact you are drastically underestimating the work load.

i also think that this just micharacterizes the role of women's work in livelihoods? cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the children are all sisyphean tasks that have to be repeated the next day. these are important, but not the whole picture. when we include all kinds of fiberwork—and other things, such as making candles or soap—women's work looks much more like manufacturing, a sphere we now associate more with men's work. i feel like women's connection to making and craftsmanship is often elided.

[itssliyahhxoxo]

hey lovely i have a request i was thinking like paige n reader n they baby girl or boy says they first words or the reader has a baby from a previous relationship nd the baby calls paige mama or sumn

You and Paige met the months after your break up with your baby daddy. When you found out you were pregnant you were filled with joy, your boyfriend not so much. The arguing started about a month after and went on and n about the baby.

Until you had enough and left, you spent the rest of your pregnancy with your best friend (friend name)

After you gave birth you dedicated your life to your precious baby girl, meaning.

Baby comes first

No men

No getting close with anyone

You stuck with those rules for the past five months,until your best friend had enough she basically dragged you and baby girl out the house and drove to her moms. “Are you sure this is ok” you asked her mom “yes, sweetie go have some fun. Besides it’ll be nice to spend some time with my grand baby” she smiled.

Yes you weren’t related but you and (friend name) see each other as sisters and her mom was always there for you as well.

“And maybe you can find you a new man” she smirked. you laughed shaking your head “bye ma” you kiss her cheek before leaving.

That was the night you met Paige, and god was she a flirt, she just wouldn’t give up “come onn, just one chance” she clapped her hands together as she followed you to the bar.

You shook your head with a laugh “you don’t give up do you?” You took a seat at the bar “nope” she smirked “what could go wrong?”. Your heart getting broken again, that’s what could happen. You knew Paige was a good person, but was just scared.

“You’re not gonna stop until I say yes, are you?” You looked at her. she shook her head, you looked down and sighed “fine..” “YES” Paige shoot up and cheered “but!!” You spoke up “uh-oh” she panicked.

“I..I have a daughter” you looked down, Paige slowly sat back next to you “how old” she asked softly “five months” you answered still not looking at her Paige nodded her head in thought “ok”.

You looked at her confused “what’s her favorite show?” Paige asked “why?” You asked. “So I know what to get her whenever I meet her” she smiled. You blinked “look, I don’t care about you having a kid. I like you a LOT” she said making you laugh a little.

“And I want to be with you” she took your hand in hers. After that night you and Paige had your first date which led too her meeting baby girl.

She drove you to (friends name) house to go get her due to her being fussy. “Shhh” you whispered in her ear softly rubbing her back, Paige watched with a smile seeing how different you were with her (baby name) lifted her head up to look at Paige with her big curious eyes, Paige panicked her eye widened as she froze.

You turned to look at her “you ok?” you asked seeing her face, she nodded that was all she could do. You’ve noticed her gaze on (baby name) and smiled “you wanna hold her?”. Paige’s eyes snapped to you “you su-sure I don’t wanna- you just got her to settle down..”.

“It fine Paige, she’s fine” you giggled at her nervousness you walked towards her, (baby name) eyes still on her.

You slowly place her in Paige’s arms and slowly backed away to see what would happen, both stared at each other with widened eyes. (Baby name)reached up and held Paige’s face in her chubby hands, you couldn’t help but laugh at Paige’s reaction.

(Baby name) begins to rub her eyes telling you that she was tired, she placed her head on Paige’s chest and began to fall asleep. Paige heart stopped, yes she held plenty of kids before but this was different. She looked back at you and saw you smiling at them, she looked back at (baby name) and softly smiled.

That was when she knew there was no way she would be able to let you and her go.

It’s been over a year now and things were going really good during that time you and (baby name) Paige’s mom and family, and they loved you especially (baby name).

You thought she was spoiled before, but now she was spoiled every.single.day, whenever Paige came home from practice she would bring home a toy for baby girl but tonight was different “Paige!” You looked at her shocked, she held what looks a four month old husky “what she loves it” Paige placed the puppy down and it immediately ran to (baby’s name).

It began licking her face and running around her making her laughs and giggles fill the room, Paige wrapped her arms around you from behind as you to watch your baby girl play with her new puppy “you spoil her to much” you mumbled in her arms “anything to make my girl happy” Paige kissed your head.

“Yeah, well I won’t be so happy in the morning. When I’m picking up it’s shit” you told her “don’t worry about that, I’ll handle it” she laughed. (Baby name) slowly waddled her way over toward you two “m..mama” she reached forward Paige.

You and Paige looked down at her shocked, Paige picked her up and held her in her arms “mama” (baby name) mumbled in Paige chest. Paige looked to you “did she just..” you nodded not knowing what to say. “Are you ok with her calling you that?” you asked.

Paige thought about it, over the past years she grown to love (baby name) like her own but hearing her call her mama mad it deal real. “I think so” she nodded and looked down at baby girl she was half asleep gripping Paige’s shirt the sight made her heart flutter.

“Let’s get a house” she blurred out looking back at you “w..what?” You looked at her shocked “I want us to get a house” she said more confident “we’re going to need more space with that one” she nodded to the puppy who was now playing with one of Paige‘s many shoes. “And we’re gonna need a backyard for when I teach her how to play basketball” she smirked.

“Oh really, who said she was playing basketball” you smiled gently getting closer to her “me” she pulls your by the waist and kisses you with so much love. That when You knew you made the right decision that night.



If there is any misspelled words, just ignore it I didn’t have time to go over it.

@thatonequeer0358 @numberonepartyanth3m @melpthatsme

[honeyedfate]

operation: no hate, just date | 심재윤

pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader

the objective is clear—make both of your fans believe that you and jake, in fact, don’t hate each other by convincing them that you’re actually in love. which you are. sadly, jake doesn’t get to shout it from the rooftops like he desperately wants to. instead he’s trapped in an elaborate plan that’s moving at a snail’s pace, but one night on weverse with the boys might speed things up.

genre. fluff & very very mildly suggestive

a/n. this is the second part to loverboy! you can read it by itself if u want but it might be more fun if u don’t lol enjoy! x

it’s been a week since jake and you were pulled aside and shoved into a meeting room where an unforeseen entourage informed him that he sucks at being your boyfriend but makes for a great arch nemesis. he had left that intervention feeling annoyed and his privacy violated, but at least they had a plan. whether that plan is a good one is still up for debate.

grey sweater guy from pr keeps responding to yuki’s plentiful emails with stupid roundabouts of how patience is a virtue and playing the long game always benefits the player. the problem is jake has no patience, and the only person who seems to get it is you.

which is likely why even after the fourth facetime call of the day, his darling-angel of a girlfriend has yet to tell him to piss off. he keeps peeking at his phone, which he has propped up against his pillow, only to begrudgingly return to his scattered lego set, positive he’ll crash out if he doesn’t hear your voice soon.

when the call finally connects and you appear on the screen, it’s like watching the sun rise. jake can feel the tension leaving his body and a lopsided smile curving over his lips. he’s hopeless, really.

you grin through the phone, hands in your hair as you tie it back, and say by way of greeting, “yunjin showed me a tiktok earlier.”

abandoning whatever he was building, jake scoots closer to his phone. “what was it about?”

“us, of course,” you say cheerily, and jake swears his heart skips a beat. not because he’s anxious of what you’re about to say but because it happens every time you refer to him and you as an item. an entity. it’s embarrassing but he kind of likes it. he likes being an idiot for you.

“someone put together a bunch of clips of everything we’ve been doing this week and it blew up on twitter.” you gently rub your oil cleanser over your face.

jake perks up at your words. he didn’t think anyone would’ve noticed any of the stuff he was told to do as part of the stupid plan. an unsettling concoction of excitement and terror swirls in his stomach. “what did they say?” he asks, fiddling with a lego piece.

you take a moment to wipe off your eye makeup, scrunching your nose when jake calls you a panda. “apparently people have been noticing how close we stood on the encore stage and that we kept looking at each other. it’s funny—i didn’t realise in that moment, but when i watched it back it looked like you’re either creeping up on me or you’re extremely terrified.”

jake tilts his head. “terrified of what? you?” he furrows his brows. “i just looked at you a couple of times like they told us to.”

“i know you did.” you turn off the faucet and grab a towel to dry off your face, trying to keep the amusement in your voice at bay. “but, babe, you’re either staring me down—unblinking—or you’re casting glances at me like you’re scared i’ll turn around and jump you.” you can’t help but giggle. “someone commented, ‘i can’t tell if jake is contemplating if he should push y/n off the stage or if he should throw himself off it.’”

jake gawks at you with his mouth agape. “that’s what they’re saying?”

you nod. he falls backward with a groan and covers his faces with his arms. “i can’t believe it. that’s what it looked like to them? really?”

“i know.” you say, more amused than empathetic.

“that’s crazy,” he says, pushing himself upright again, hair sticking out even messier than it had before. “i’m actively trying to act like a lovesick fool—which i am! don’t even—and people still think i’m trying to break your neck? that’s insane.”

you hum supportively. “at least some people believe you were offering to break your own neck for me. that’s romantic, right? we might be on the right track here.” you keep your tone playful, but jake looks at you with his starry eyes and pouty lips, resembling nothing short of a kicked puppy.

“i’m sorry i keep messing this up,” he says and the thinness in his voice makes your heart break.

“jake, you’re not messing anything up.” he looks at his hands, avoiding your gaze. “you can’t control these things, people will interpret and perceive it however they like. it’s always been this way, and it’s always been out of our control. doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

“i don’t know, y/n,” he says quietly, and the sight of him hanging his head has you nearly sneaking out of the dorms and going over to his. you’ve never seen him look this miserably at a lego set before. “if i wasn’t so awkward and knew what to do, we wouldn’t even be in this mess.”

“no one’s perfect and all-knowing.” you pick up your phone with a frown. “and why do you keep calling it a mess? is that what you think this is?” you enter your room and get into your bed. jake looks up at the sounds of your blanket and wishes desperately he was there with you.

instead, he loosens a breath and sweeps the lego pieces onto the manual, placing it on the floor and going under the blanket as well. “what else should i call it?” he says. “it’s not a blessing.”

you ponder his words. “a mess would be our sex tape getting leaked or people making up rumours that we’re drug dealers or cannibals.”

jake cocks his head. “like hannibal?”

“i meant more like in ‘bones and all’ but sure.”

“oh.” he scratches his face. “well, we’re neither of those things. we also don’t have a sex tape.” the corner of his mouth quirks up.

“no, we don’t.” you pout, forcing a mock sigh. “but we could always make one? ‘operation: no hate, no date,’ am i right?” you waggle your eyebrows at him, prompting a wry smile to flicker across his face.

“they’ll watch it and come to the conclusion that i hate you even more.”

you huff a laugh. “we will probably also get kicked out of hybe and have to start slinging fishcakes on the street. which sounds like fun, to be honest. oh! we could make our own jingle and sing it for our customers. maybe we won’t even have to make the fishcakes if we’re successful enough.”

this earns you a laugh. “that’s just busking, baby. what you want to do is busk.”

you gasp in fake surprise before settling for a rueful sigh. “i am but an artist.”

jake presses his lips together as if to say ‘good riddance, what tragic calling’ with a saddened face before the two of you dissolve into giggles.

“okay, i get it.” he turns to lie on his side, face squished against his pillow. “going from idol to man with leaked sex tape who sings on the street and runs an unsuccessful fishcake stand would be a mess. but this is not?”

“correct.”

“i’m so relieved then.” he grins toothily at you and, of course, you reciprocate it. an involuntarily yawn slips through your lips and jake coos at you.

“is my girl tired after working hard all day?”

“she’s exhausted,” you affirm with bleary eyes. “you seem chipper for someone who’s usually drooling on his pillow by midnight.”

jake shrugs. “i’m not sleepy yet.”

you hold back another yawn. “do you want me to stay awake until you are?”

he smiles at you fondly, relishing in the softness of your drowsy voice. “it’s all right. you should go to sleep, baby.” he glances at the clock on his phone. “i think i’ll go live for a bit. haven’t done one in a while.”

“aren’t we feeling chatty tonight,” you tease, eyes fully closed now. jake swears he actually dies at how cute you look and smashes that screenshot button repeatedly. “i’ll leave you to it then. greet engenes for me.”

he grimaces. “if i do that, you’ll get your jingle and fishcake dreams fulfilled by tomorrow morning because we’ll both be unemployed.”

“sounds lovely.” you rub your eyes.

“yeah,” jake merely whispers, attention span momentarily off the rails as his doting gaze traces your face. he takes another screenshot for good measure. “good night, pretty girl,” he says tenderly, raspy voice and all. “see you tomorrow for the dance challenge and the fishcakes.”

a giggle bubbles out of you, and you crack your eyes open to offer your best, dozy smile. “and the busking. don’t forget the busking.”

“i would never. i’ll even steal one of jay’s guitars.”

you nod, pleased. “we’ll be on the run like bonnie and clyde. except for all the atrocities, of course.”

jake helplessly swoons. “i love you.”

“i love you too. good night, baby.”

the intensity at which his pulse quickens and his stomach tumbles needs to be studied because it should not be humanly possible to be so goddamn whipped. he’s not ashamed to admit that he could write lines upon lines of poetry right now just to ode your every quality and marvel at the curve of your mouth.

again, hopeless. but he’s more than okay with it.

so what if he flips onto his stomach right after the call ends, smiling blissfully into his pillow and kicking his feet? he might not be a lover boy, but he is in love.

with that same crooked smile that is probably etched onto his face forever, he opens the weverse app on his phone and opts for a voice live. as the first few people pool in, he gets lost in mindless chatter. it’s always nice to do lives at night. mainly because they make him drowsy.

at some point, he gets up for the bottle on his desk, hoping that chugging some water will wake him up. but when he returns to his bed and glances at his phone, comments keep flooding in at a speed that make them very hard to read.

“what’s this?” he chuckles nervously. “what happened? i just went to get some water.”

enhaswife: jungwon is live!! go live with him plss

sim hitomi: jungwonnie is live~~

xo, liz: CAN U GO LIVE WITH JUNGWON ‼️

“jungwonnie is live?” jake raises a brow. “that’s actually pretty early for him. it’s not even one yet.” he settles back into his bed. “i was here first though, so you guys have to tell him to come. tell him to come send a request.”

he watches the number of viewers decline rapidly, all of them seemingly leaving to do his bidding. he wields too much power and it might actually go to his head, he thinks to himself in amusement. “i told him,” he reads out loud. “i told him, he’s coming, i told him. you guys are so cute.”

not long after, the request pops up and jake is quick to accept it. his screen splits in two before jungwon’s eager face appears before him.

“yooiii,” jake greets him with a wide smile.

“yoooiiii,” jungwon practically shouts into his phone with excitement that is more appropriate for daylight hours. “what’s this? why aren’t you showing your face, hyung? are you naked?”

“what?” jake guffaws, adjusting his phone. “no, my hair’s just all over the place. engenes don’t need to see me like this.”

“oh, okay.” jungwon nods understandably as his eyes flit over the computer screen before him. the song that’s currently playing in the background changes to a more calm melody, and jake sinks further into his blanket, nearly letting out a moan at how snug he feels. “he’s bald, by the way.”

jake jolts so hard he nearly tumbles out of his bed.

“jungwon!” he watches as the comments explode into chaos. “oh my god, what have you done.”

the younger boy ignores him. “ni-ki shaved his head after practice, you know. he got the clippers from hair and makeup and went right at it. they weren’t too happy about it, but it went well. thankfully, i am so happy to announce that our hyung does not have an egghead.”

jake burst out laughing, glimpsing how jungwon’s smile expands with delight when he hears it. “i nearly lost an ear, but yes. all’s good.”

“he gave his hair to jay,” jungwon continues for no apparent reason except to bring jay into this. “he put it in a nice ziplock bag and gave it to him. jay almost cried. he was really touched.”

jake is clutching his sides, trying to keep his laughter down. before he can speak, a highlighted message pops up in the comments.

JAY: Ya! Why are you ruining my image

JAY: When jake gave me his bag of hair I wept

JAY: I wept.

JAY: Get your facts straight punk

“hyung!” jungwon says delightfully. “you’re here too. what’s going on, why are we all awake? is this a party?”

“it’s just us three here,” jake remarks, still chuckling. “what party only has three guests?”

jungwon shrugs. “i’ve never been to one.”

JAY: Me neither

jake cups his neck, deciding to join them despite the fact that there are plenty of pictures of them at several afterparties. “me neither.”

JAY: Wow

“wooow,” jungwon echoes, lips tugging into a smirk. jake frowns. did he miss something? before he can address it, a comment stands out to him.

“yes, we are a sad bunch,” he says jokingly in response to it. “you’re breaking my heart, engenes. no need to rub it in.”

jungwon snickers. “these comments are so fun tonight. i usually only get song recommendations. seriously, what’s happening? where are all my engenes who ask me to play chamber 5 for the eighth time?”

JAY: It’s because I’m here

JAY: I bring the smart ones

JAY: Also can you play chamber 5

“it’s my live.” jake scoffs when he reads jay’s comments. “they were here before you two came, and we always have very stimulating discussions.”

that’s not true. earlier’s heated topic of conversation was whether a tiger or a tiger shark would win in a fight. but jungwon and jay don’t need to know that.

“oh, hey, we’re tripple j,” jake randomly observes while suppressing a yawn.

“we are!” jungwon says enthusiastically. “the moment jay came in, all the comments were saying tripple j. imagine if all of our names started with a j. septuple j!”

JAY: Junghoon

JAY: Jeeseung, junoo, ji-ki

JAY: Annyeonghasaeyo, jenhypen-imnida

jake snorts. he glances at the time and lets another yawn overtake him. “guys, i think i’ll go to sleep. i can barely hold my eyes open.”

“i was waiting for you to say that,” jungwon quips.

“oh?” jake pushes himself up to fluff his pillow. “why? do i sound tired?”

JAY: Ow hay weor wibble j

jake furrows his brows, nearly suffering a stroke trying to read that. “hah. you’re funny.”

JAY: yoar wonny

“ahjussi, please go to bed,” jake says fondly and pulls his blanket up to his ears, letting it almost swallow him. “you’re talking gibberish again.”

JAY: :(((

jungwon ignores them, typing away on his keyboard. “i think i’ll continue my live for a bit if engenes want to join me.”

“yes, keep him company, guys.” jake yawns once more and quickly skims the comments one last time. his mind has become delirious, not really making sense of any of the words on his screen. he’s no longer thinking straight. he’s not thinking, period. which might be why his focus zeroes in on your name as it passes by.

he scrolls back up, looking for it, and finds himself reading it out loud without a second thought.

“do you want me to fight y/n for you?”

he lets his arm fall over his eyes with a funny expression on his face that no one can see and that he’s not even aware of. a mental image of you occupies half of his mind while the other half has simply shut off.

chuckling, he replies, “nah, i can take her.”

it goes quiet in the room as jake’s breathing evens out and jungwon’s typing slows down.

“hyung,” he says with emphasis, a warning tone laced in his voice. jake blinks an eye open, way too tired to grasp the gravity of what he has done. jungwon, on the other hand, is close to breaking out in hives as the comments go ballistic.

jay is not of much help either. he has left the live to message the group chat, asking if they’re now in trouble and if they’re going to kidnap you and jake again. from what jungwon can gauge based on the rapid fire notifications he’s getting, jay’s coming in clutch with quotes and screenshots of the comments, and heeseung’s immediate reaction is to cackle away.

enhaswife2: wiat whaT DID HE JUST SAY

myseven: oh REALLY >:( y/n count ur days

sunoo’s gf: you sure about that? I can fight

xiiuu7: leave y/n to me, i can handle her for you

jake reads the comments through fluttering eyes, somehow finding it all very entertaining. “oh, i take her just fine, thanks.” he rolls onto his stomach, eyes closed, smiling like an idiot, and mutters into his pillow, “i’ve handled her in more ways you can—”

his door slams open.

not a second later, jungwon stands before him in his pyjamas and snatches his phone out of his hands, breathing heavily. it lands next to jake on his pillow with a thud. screen now black.

“hyung, have you gone mad?!” jungwon stares down at him in bewilderment, his own phone in his hand lightening up every microsecond. “are you actually insane? why would you say that into the microphone?”

jake blinks up at him. “what?”

another person joins them. “what’s going on?” sunoo’s socked feet pad over the floor as he pulls down his headphones, regarding the two of them carefully. “i heard doors slamming.”

wordlessly, jungwon passes him his unlocked phone. it’s opened to a twitter account transcribing and translating in real time what had just been said on their live, including jake’s slurred but still perfectly understandable words. in other words, stan twitter is going insane.

sunoo gasps, eyes widening with each tweet as he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls. he’s reading all kinds of things—engenes who are losing it and speaking of you, your group, and your fans as if there’ll be a sword fight at dawn.

your fans who are thoroughly disoriented and confused but ready to go for blood anyway because ‘what does he MEAN he can take her?? take her WHERE?????’

and people who don’t even listen to either group but are dying over the comedic timing of jake uttering those words, jungwon hurling himself out of his chair, his footsteps thumping in the hallway, the doors banging, and the live ending all under two minutes.

some people also seem to believe that jake is bald for some reason? sunoo shakes his head in disbelief. it’s like the internet has been bored for too long, and this has revived them.

an eternity must’ve passed now, and jungwon is still lecturing a very sleepy jake whose words and actions have finally caught up to him when sunoo suddenly yelps. he practically tosses the phone in the air, and both boys turn to their attention to him. with a gulp, sunoo flips the screen around and holds it at an arm’s length.

“yuki is calling.”

jungwon exchanges a look with jake before he grabs his phone. “hello?” he says, clearing his throat. sunoo leans in to try and listen. jake, on the other hand, stays frozen on his bed, not even daring to breathe.

a heavy sigh sounds on the other line. “jungwon?”

“…yes?”

“there’s a change of plans.”

[livelaughlovesubs]

HII NINI can i ask for ‘forcing them to crawl on their hands and knees’ and ‘grinding their face into their own mess(with a foot pressed behind them if you may)’ with dazai pleasee i just know he’s pathetic enough to come untouched from that thank youu

Dom!reader x sub!dazai - reader is gn

Warning: pet play!!, teasing, dirty talk, use of pet names, begging, (pre)cum eating, masochistic dazai, stepping

That reminds me when I decided to write sum’ angst for the first time, it was about dazai with abandonment issues, and people just WOULDNT STOP ASKING ME TO WRITE MORE CUZ THEY LOVED PATHETIC DAZAI SM???

He was such a good little pet. At times annoying, but still overwhelmingly fun. To be more specific, he was perfect for you, just the right amount of pathetic, just bratty enough to not overdo it and simply adorable. That smug little smirk he wears when he disobeys you, like right now.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to enter the room. A few moments ago you gave him the order to come in after he finished washing up, which is why you were waiting for his arrival. Once he opened the door, he leaned against the frame and smiled at you, asking almost innocently, “you called?” He was wearing a bathrobe that revealed his chest ever so slightly. “Yes, come closer.” You waved your hand, making yourself comfortable now that he’s here.

“Why don’t you tell me why I’ve been summoned?” He stroked through his hair, some water droplets dripped down from the ends. You stared at him, not expecting him to misbehave already, “I thought you’d know better, puppy.” Dazai chuckled, as if he expected you to say that, and immediately answered, “oh what to do, i don’t know anything~” while he talked, he brought the back of his hand to his forehead, the other one holding his clothes together.

“Can’t you explain it to me again?” The brunette pondered, pouting after he finished his sentence. You caught him sneaking some glances over to you while giving a show. “Hah- have I been too lenient with you? To think you’ve forgotten how to act around me.” Of course you knew this was just another defiant game of his, it was something he did whenever he wanted to mess with you. Normally you’d brush it off, but this time, maybe you should play along.

“Then listen to my orders carefully, puppy.” You leaned back a little, raising your head high up, “firstly, strip.” For a split second, you saw his eyes change from calculated to excited, before he went back to being collected. “Will I be the only one stripping? Oh y/n~ that’s so perverted.” He turned his head to the side, to hide behind his raised shoulder for a bit. Look at him acting like some shy virgin, was he going to ask you to be gentle as well?

Soon after, the white fluffy robe fell down to the floor. His cheeks were slightly flushed, but he wasn’t embarrassed yet. “Are you going to stare all day?” The male asked with a light grin, taking a few steps forward before closing the door behind him. “I was being considerate towards you, or do you want to be touched so badly?” He slowly walked over to you, answering in a cheeky tone, “of course, you’ve been starving me of affection lately.”

Suddenly you raised your hand and said, “stop,” and so he did as you wanted, stopping in the middle of the room. You sighed deeply, almost as if disappointed, then sneered, “don’t walk, crawl to me.” A shudder ran down his spine, and he clenched his hand subconsciously. “Crawl? Why should I do that…” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, also signing, as if copying you. You didn’t let this irritate you and simply replied, “don’t you want to earn my praise for a change?”

His ears turned red when he heard that, but instead of retaliating any more, he dropped down to his knees and looked up at you, “please praise me plenty then, master ♡” What’s this? Look at him suddenly being all docile, crawling to you on all fourth and keeping eye contact the whole time. This man, unbelievable, he really had no shame.

As soon as he arrived, he positioned himself in front of you, still on his knees all nicely with his hands gripping the edge of the bed. “Have I been good?” He almost mewled, smiling so brightly with crimson cheeks. Your hand stroked through his hair, watching him nuzzle into your palm. He’s trying so hard, it’s making you almost feel bad.

“You did pretty well, but…” you slid back on the mattress, until you could place your foot on the back of his head. Afterward, you stepped down, forcing him to bow his head. “Look at that mess your little tail made.” An amused chuckled slipped from your lips, and you couldn’t stop grinning at his flustered expression. The blush was even spreading to his shoulders now, how adorable.

Dazai stared at the ground right below him, not like he had any other choices anyway. And it was evident what you meant. His poor hard-on has been leaking the whole time, without him noticing his own arousal. Most of his precum dripped all the way down his shaft and onto his thighs, though some also coated the floor beneath him. Before he could even ask for forgiveness, you pressed down harder, resulting in his face being mere inches away from the poodle of mess he himself made.

“I’m sure a good dog would know what to do?” You’ve been mumbled, noticing how he shuddered at your every word. “Y/n, I-” he couldn’t finish his sentence before you grind his face into the liquid, muttering almost to yourself, “so cute.” He whined at the harsh treatment, feeling his dick twitch in excitement. Without further delay, he stuck his tongue out and licked, making sure to make loud slurping sounds as well just to put on another show for you.

“Hnnnghh~ mhmm… uhm, mmghff…! ♡♥︎♡” More whimpers escaped his throat, and his eyes rolled to the back to his head. His body felt so hot, so electric. Hot tears steamed down his rosy cheeks. He could feel the pressure of your foot against his head, as well as his stomach curling and flutter. Simply hearing your low, slightly hitched breathing made his heart pound. After all, it meant you liked what he was doing, so he was doing a good job, right, right?

“Good boy.” You complimented him, holding your own head with your hands. “You’re doing so good, such a pretty boy.” He continued to lick across the dirtied spot, feeling a rush of heat coursing through his veins. The taste of his own fluids were maddening. It didn’t exactly have a taste, but just the thought of it and the act of doing it in front of you made it special. And exactly because he was so into it, you couldn’t stop the praise from spilling, “You are my good and obedient puppy, aren’t you?”

“Mhmm- mGhUuu~♡♡♥︎..!!!” Suddenly he moaned against the cold ground, and his toes curled. You were a little surprised which is why you moved your foot, wondering if he was actually chocking. Once he raised his head though, you understood what was up with him. Hah. This fucking pervert, cumming all over the floor over nothing.

His eyes were glazed over, hazy while his tongue hung out of his mouth. Tears and drool decorating that pretty face as he whispered meekly, “m’ sorry~♥︎♥︎♡” You stayed quiet for a moment, calming yourself down as little muffled laughs rang in his ears. After that, you teased, “maybe I shouldn’t have praised you so early on. Oh well, it just means you have to clean it again.”

[marbofmoorock]

I'm just gonna make a short story based on this incredible art:

TADC SIDE ADVENTURE: A New Girl in Town, Droppin' in

Today, in the Amazing Digital Circus, Caine decides to give everyone a day off. Much to everyone's surprise, everyone walks off relieved, doing something fun with their time. Jax goes to his room to play video games, Pomni hangs out with Kinger in his pillow fort, and Gangle and Zooble go have fun together. Everyone's got something to do, except Ragatha.

She was looking forward to this adventure today, as Caine had hinted she would meet ai doll characters just like her. Ragatha had wanted to meet other ai that looked like her, but sadly, she's the only toy doll amongst the cast.

Caine takes note of Ragatha's sadness and decides to check on her.

"HELLO MY DEAR! YOU SEEM QUITE GLUM FOR SOMEONE WHO FOUND OUT SHE'S GOT A DAY OFF. I CAN APPRECIATE SOMEONE WHO LOVES MY ADVENTURES ENOUGH TO MISS THEM, BUT WHY THE LONG FACE, RAGATHA? YOU'RE USUALLY SO UPBEAT!"

Ragatha looks over at Caine, then back at the floor as she holds her arm with her other arm.

"Well Caine, I...didn't know that the Doll adventure would be cancell-"

"NOT TO WORRY MY DEAR! I ONLY CANCELED IT FOR THE OTHER MEMBERS, I WANTED TO PUT YOU ASIDE BECAUSE THIS ADVENTURE IS FOR YOU EXCLUSIVELY!!!"

Ragatha gasped, her expression went from sad to shocked in an instant, then to joyful.

"No way..."

"YESSS WAAAAAAAY," said Caine, delighted to see Ragatha's mood changed for the better, " You're in for a real surprise this time! Your mission is to make A friend! Have fun!"

Caine snaps open a portal, gesturing Ragatha to enter. Surprised that Caine would set her aside for an adventure was so riveting, thought Ragatha as she enters the portal.

On the other side, Ragatha finds she's in a giant room, or perhaps she's super tiny. Regardless, she saw other dolls all over this large room. Some of them were her size, others were smaller, then there were plenty of other toys, but most of them were dolls of various kinds, from barbies, to Bratz, to lalaloopsy, strawberry shortcake and many others. Ragatha was so shocked at how many dolls there were, noticing how beautiful they looked, appearing more human-like and pretty. As Ragatha looked at her ragdoll arms for a moment, a hint of insecurity passed her, interrupted by one of the smaller dolls with blonde hair her size, who approached her.

"Hey there. You must be the new doll. My name's Milly Milkshake. Come with me." She holds Ragatha's hand with her own plastic one, and Ragatha follows, feeling accepted and happy knowing someone in this wild you city of fashion and plastic fantastic would want to welcome her, a ragdoll.

She guides her to another side of the room, past many other characters and dollhouses, some being built, while some are fully lived in. "This is amazing," Ragatha thought out loud.

"It's pretty cool, I guess. There's a lot of mean dollies here, so it's good I found you first. There are too many mean girlies here, and I wouldn't want you to be bullied on your visit."

Ragatha listens intently, reminded of her past life when she was bullied out of loving her horse toys when she was very young, often missing them.

Milly brings Ragatha to her smaller dollhouse and they go inside. It's like a house and an ice cream Parlor rolled into one, Milly lives up to her name, I guess, thought Ragatha.

"Well, this is it, mi casa ea su casa, as Espinza, my other doll friend, would say. Make yourself at home." Milly says, gesturing to the comfy looking sofa.

Ragatha sits down and she makes Milkshakes for both of them, and just chat. Ragatha spends a lot of time with Milly, enjoying a good time with her. They talked for hours, played tea parties, they even rode on the larger toy horses, which made Ragatha very happy.

While Ragatha was hyperaware of how NPCs and Ai often forget about you quickly, she made the most of it, happy to be around other dolls. Milly gives her a gift of mini toy horses Ragatha can keep in her room. This brings Ragatha to tears and she hugs Milly really tightly.

"OH THANK YOU...I...have never been given such a gift before...I love it...*sniff*...Thank you..."

Milly smiled, accepting her hug and hugging her back for the longest time: "You're never alone Ragatha. I'll always be right here, okay?" She gestures to her chest where her heart is, "I'll miss you."

"...Me too..." Says Ragatha, crying loudly as Milly had been so nice to her.

They eventually end the hug, and Ragatha walks through the portal back to the circus.

Caine congratulates Ragatha for completing her adventure and sends her off to her room to rest and cool off.

With her new toy horses and tears in her eyes, Ragatha cries with joy, as her heart warms at the thought of Milly and her kindness. In her honor, she relives her childhood memories and plays with horses yet again.

The End.

I had this AU idea where a new member joins the digital circus and it’s a doll. But unlike Ragatha who is a ragdoll she’s like a perfect barbie like doll. And she makes Ragatha feel insecure. Like she has two eyes, full hands, perfect hair, a pretty face, etc. And fears that everyone prefers her, especially Jax. And grows worried that Jax will go on to play with another doll instead and her bored of her. Inspired by Prom Dress.

[narrycherries]

ivy: an incandescent glow

(Y/n) just wants to have a fun night out, but Harry has a tendency to ruin things..

[part 2]

masterlist // ivy series

word count: 10.9k

warnings/tags: enemies to lovers, harry x fem reader, angst

Although the week had been quite packed with things at work, (Y/n) had decided that maybe it would be best if she did go out for the night. It would only be for a few hours, and Niall had assured her when he came over the other night for dinner that it would be a good time. Emma begged a few times, of course, and she didn’t want to admit to giving in to her, but she did.. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to go out, it had simply been a while.

“Is Niall riding with us?” She asked Emma when she popped in (Y/n)’s room to borrow a pair of earrings that would better match her outfit.

“No, he’s going with Zayn. They usually go early to meet with the owner and stuff.” She explained as she looked in the mirror, slipping the earrings into her piercing holes. “He might ride back.. I’m not going to drink very much, probably just one drink when we first get there. He’ll want to celebrate after and you know how he is.”

“He definitely doesn’t need to be in a driver’s seat.”

Emma sighed. “He doesn’t even need to do that when he’s sober. He pays horrible attention to the road.”

“Your dress is cute. I love the red on you.”

“Thanks! I love your skirt.. even though it covers your ass too much.” She joked with a grin.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “I don’t want my ass hanging out all the time.”

“When it looks that good.. you should.”

“Do I need to change?”

Emma smacked her lips and grabbed (Y/n)’s hand, knocking the makeup brush out of her grip. “Stop! You look perfect, (Y/n), I’m only teasing because your ass is nice and mine is nowhere near as big.” A laugh fell from her lips as she wrapped her arms around (Y/n). “You’re hot, girl.”

“Am not.” She huffed back, embracing Emma just as tight. “But thanks.”

“The skirt is hot. The style is cute on you, plus the sparkles on your shirt are going to shine so much in the bar. Like a disco ball.. all eyes on you, sugar.”

(Y/n) chuckled at Emma’s flattering statements. She was glad to have an encouraging friend like her. Before all the joking, she did have a thought or two about the skirt and the bright orange shirt covered in fake rectangular gemstones. The straps were thin, and the necklace was low but straight across, covering any opportunity for cleavage to show. It was definitely not a shirt someone would wear on a daily basis, but it was perfect for going out.

“Are you wearing heels?” Emma asked, looking down to see her shoeless feet.

“Probably the chunky ones with the straps, the black ones. Are you?”

She nodded back. “I’ll make Niall rub my feet tonight.”

(Y/n) snickered. “I’ll make you rub mine.”

“I mean, I will. You’re my best friend.. as long as you aren’t sweaty.” Emma’s lashes hit her cheek as she winked.

“Don’t you need to finish getting ready?” (Y/n) said as she turned back towards the mirror to work on her makeup.

Emma was notorious for being late, and it took everything in (Y/n) to wrangle her up and out of the door when they were going places together. Niall didn’t give them a specific time to be at the bar, but he did say when the band would start. Emma needed to get ready quick if they wanted to make it on time.

The car ride was full of quick conversations with random topics in between their performances of some of their favorite songs. They had hit a karaoke stage as a duo before, plenty of times, so they were confident in their list of songs. In between the belting and off key singing, they had a few longer talks. Emma asked if (Y/n) was nervous about going to a bar she’d never been to before, in which she said ‘no, I’m excited’ and then let Emma tell her all about the layout of the place.

“You said something about.. Niall celebrating after?”

Emma nodded as she kept her eyes on the road ahead of them. “They don’t play the entire night. Usually have about two afters until closing. Depends on if there’s any requests.”

“Requests?” (Y/n) lifted her brows, surprised by the seemingly popularity Niall’s crew had. “They must be really good?”

Although she had seen videos of Niall, she hadn’t seen any of his band. Emma didn’t really use social media a lot, so she never posted anything or shared posts about their shows. (Y/n) was going to be completely surprised by whatever was to come tonight. She knew it would be good though. If they could continue to book the same venue time and time again, then they must bring in a good audience.

When the silence rose between them, (Y/n) took the opportunity to look at Emma’s outfit. She was humming softly to the song playing on the radio as she drove, her concentration on the road and not on her friend’s gazing eyes. Emma had such pretty dark hair that (Y/n) thought was perfectly placed strand by stand on her head. It had a natural wave to it that was easy to style, whereas (Y/n) had to place heated curls into her long, straight hair whenever she wanted it to look cute. Emma had a slimmer build than she did, her legs were longer despite them being a similar height. No matter how hard she tried not to look, her eyes always naturally fell to catch a glimpse at the gap between Emma’s legs. She never looked at it in a weird way, like she was attracted to her, but in an envious way. When she stared down at her own thighs or burned holes through her mirror, she always frowned and swallowed harshly as her skin pressed together - the inside of her thighs always touching. It wasn’t the biggest deal to her, but it was noticeable in her eyes, so she assumed it was.. noticeable for everyone else. Emma had small boobs, but they fit perfectly on her frame. While (Y/n) had a small cup size, they didn’t necessarily match her body, she believed. Her hips were wider, her ass fuller - as Emma reminded her often - and her stomach was pudgy. She wasn’t skinny, nor tall and lanky. She was short, plump, and her thighs touched.. She never thought she was unattractive but she figured she wasn’t conventionally attractive, she didn’t possess those things that society craved and demanded of women.

Emma’s outfit tonight was perfectly sculpted to her slim body. The red dress had a satin finish to it as it draped carefully over her cleavage, the swell of her breasts peeking out just enough to keep someone guessing. Her tanned skin was littered with delicate gold jewelry - her signature flower ring on her right hand was accompanied by a few random ones, and a ruby necklace hung over her collarbones, Niall gifted that to her for Christmas.

(Y/n) was confident in her outfit for the night, she was comfortable in the articles of clothing. She was very used to wearing heels when going out, she believed they made the outfits even better, so her feet weren’t going to be hurting that bad later on. She thought her makeup was done nicely, a dark grey smokey eye with a shimmery white covering her lid and a pink nude gloss over her thick lips. Her lips, that was the one thing she was confident in each and every time she looked at her reflection. They were plump, full, and much thicker than the average person’s. She had been told several times that her lips would do wonders - although, she hadn’t gotten to that with anyone yet. She had kissed a few people, though, and they told her it was heavenly. She took the praise to heart and was proud of it. Her thighs might touch and her hair might dry straight, but she had pretty lips.. that would surely be enough to attract someone one of these days, right?

After a couple of minutes of silence, more than (Y/n) had realized, Emma spoke up. “Are you feeling okay?”

(Y/n) stuck her tongue out to wet her lips, smearing her lip gloss in the process. “Yeah. Why?”

Emma shrugged. “You’re quiet.. you seem like you’re thinking about something.”

“I’m fine, promise.”

They became quiet again. She knew that sometimes she became mute when she was anxious or thinking thoroughly about something, and she hated when people noticed or pointed it out. She wasn’t intentionally trying to be that way, it just happened. She assumed it was normal, but perhaps she did it too much?

“(Y/n), if you’re worrying about your outfit, please don’t. You look hot. You always do.” Emma suddenly said, a smile laced in her words. “There’s gonna be guys dropping to your feet tonight, like they always do.”

“They don’t drop to my feet.” She huffed, pursing her lips at the thought. “They just want to hook up with me.”

Emma smirked. “It’s your ass, I’m telling you. They love it.”

“Emma, please.” (Y/n) was fighting back a chuckle.

“I promise, swear on every little thing, (Y/n), your outfit is perfect and you look perfect.”

A weighted sigh escaped through her lips as she relaxed in the seat, her eyes shifting to look out of the window. “Thanks, Em.”

While (Y/n) had never been to the establishment they arrived at, she was no stranger to a bar or club setting. Emma no longer seemed to be worried or concerned about any lingering doubts (Y/n) might have about her outfit or how the night would go. They strolled to the door, hand in hand with giggles pouring from their mouths as Emma joked about how excited she was for what Niall was going to give her after the show. Apparently, performing gave him a boost of confidence, energy, and testosterone. Emma was not shy about telling every detail and making sure (Y/n) knew all the craziest parts.

“There’s a good bit of people here.” (Y/n) said as she raised her brows, looking at the good sized line forming to the door.

“Yeah, it’s always packed out. This is one of the best places around. Decent prices, good djs and bands, obviously.” Emma grinned at her own comment. “And the food is actually great. I never came before I got with Niall though.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda surprised we never popped in here during school.”

Emma’s smile turned to a smirk. “They couldn’t handle our karaoke performances.”

Once they paid the cover charge and made a quick trip to the restroom before getting settled anywhere, they headed to the bar, still hand in hand as they weaved through the crowd of people already dancing. (Y/n) took notice of the interior as they waited for the bartender to come over to them.

The place was pretty big for what it was. The main room had a large dance floor space, a stage lined the back wall. Apparently, the place always had live performers or guest djs. It used to be a small theater that was renovated - the seating ripped out to transform the venue, but the stage remained untouched. Along the left side of the huge open room were tables with booth style benches shaped in half circles. Most of them were already occupied, but she could tell it was more of a casual thing - instead of a ‘being seated and waited on’ space. There was a doorway close to the opposite end of the bar covered with a long, sparkling beaded curtain. The sign next to the door read ‘VIP’. She pursed her lips at the idea of this place being so popular that they had a special seating area. Her eyes darted to the bartender as she heard Emma start saying her order. (Y/n) ordered a drink consisting of rum and pineapple juice, intending to get something stronger later once the show started.

“Hey there, strangers.” A familiar voice called out over the music.

“Oh, hi, Niall!” Emma was cheerful as he sat down on the stool closest to them. They had been standing, though, not wanting to claim a seat at the bar. “What are you doing out here?”

He shrugged. “We’ve got a few minutes to kill. Getting started?” He nodded his head towards the drink in Emma’s hand.

“Yeah, just having one.. since you’ll be drinking whatever’s left at the bar later.”

(Y/n) laughed at their banter, which caught Niall’s attention. “I expect you, missy, to have fun tonight. I want everyone to experience how wild you can get.”

“I told her she needs to have fun!” Emma exclaimed, reaching over to grab (Y/n)’s elbow and give it a squeeze.

“I’ll have a few.. but I’m not going to go crazy.”

They both gave her a dramatic eye roll, Niall adding a huff to his reaction. “C’mon, (Y/n), live a little!”

“Yeah, a little, not a lot.” She smiled back, amused by their mix of excitement and disappointment.

“I’ll make sure you have a few rounds of tequila later. On me, of course.” Niall said, looking from her to Emma. “If you don’t drink yours.. then I’ll take it, babe.”

“Are you guys doing requests tonight?” Emma changed the topic after shaking her head at him.

He slowly lifted his head in a nod. “From what I was told. As long as we know it.. we’ll play it.”

“Do my song, okay?” Emma begged with a pout of her lips.

He shaped a grin on his. “It’s on the set list, baby.”

“What kind of music do you play?” (Y/n) asked, genuinely curious about it. Emma hadn’t really given her much of an idea about what to expect, just a guarantee that she’d love it and have fun.

“Mostly rock.. We do a lot of nineties.. early two thousands songs. Bunch of classic rock, though. Little bit of grunge, dad rock.. if that’s what you wanna call it. Sometimes we branch out.. but mostly stick to that stuff.” Niall said as he stood from the stool, a sigh following his final words as he ran a hand through his puffed up dark hair.

“Time to get ready?” Emma pouted, her free hand slipping onto his waist.

“Yeah, gotta round up the lads.” He breathed out, his eyes focusing on Emma now. “I’ll be watching you, babe. Make sure ya dance for me, yeah?” He teased with a lick of his lips, which clearly fell downward to meet hers.

(Y/n) swallowed a sip of her drink and let her eyes move to the floor. She wasn’t grossed out by their display of affection, she just felt like she was intruding. Emma was always so open with her about the things she did with Niall and others before he came along, but she never had those kinds of stories to tell back to her. She had been with one person, the summer before university began, and it was terrible. Aside from that, kissing people was the extent of her experience. She enjoyed most of the times she had almost gone far with people, but it never got to that point.

Emma hugged Niall quickly as he said something about needing to go. When he disappeared in the crowd, Emma turned to face (Y/n) again.

“Niall might stay over tonight.” She said, taking a sip of her drink. “Just to let you know.”

“Alright, that’s fine.”

Emma slid her gaze around the room, taking in the familiar setting, before looking back to (Y/n). “I hope you like the music. There’s a bunch of songs you definitely know on the set.”

“M’sure I will.”

“Are you good?” Emma smiled sweetly, not trying to pry or seem too nosy, but she noticed how (Y/n) had shied away from her and Niall just before he left.

“I’m fine. You worry too much.”

(Y/n) sighed lightly as Emma took her hand. “Maybe we can find you a hot guy tonight. I know you know how to use those lips.”

“Don’t say it like that!” (Y/n) laughed, covering her mouth as her cheeks blushed.

“Kissing, I mean! But I’m sure you can do the other stuff, too.” Emma just smirked, knowing that her attempt at making (Y/n) feel better was working.

They didn’t have to wait too much longer for everything to start. But as they stood next to the bar, partially resting on the stools, the place filled up to more than capacity. It was like a big name musician was in town. Emma told (Y/n) about the popularity of the bar again and how it was always sold out and packed floor to ceiling with people. She was very impressed by the crowd that had formed around them, and she wondered how much of that was just from the place’s atmosphere and how much was for the live show.

Just as the guy who was normally over the music appeared on the stage to announce that the show was about to begin, Emma grabbed (Y/n)’s hand and they shoved their way to the front of the crowd, not quite in the center but close enough. Emma wanted to be in front of where Niall would be standing. The lights dimmed, replaced with flashing colorful lights and white strobing flashes. Emma was cheering with the crowd while (Y/n) waited in anticipation. She was excited to see Niall perform live, but she was more interested in seeing the rest of the band.

A small group flooded the stage suddenly, instruments in a few of their hands, including Niall’s. The lights were purposely not flashing on to the stage yet, so it was too dark for her to tell. She thought she recognized the person getting behind the drum set, but she wasn't sure. Emma let out a piercing squeal as the show finally began.

(Y/n) happily smiled and started to sway her hips from side to side as a familiar opening instrumental of a song started to fill the room. The lights on the floor of the stage popped on, lighting up the band as the singer started the first verse of “Come As You Are”. She was nodding her head to the music as she watched Niall pluck the strings on the guitar, he was pursing his lips and seeming to be enjoying what he was doing. His eyes shot up and he gave them a quick grin before focusing back on the guitar in his hands and the microphone placed near his mouth. Emma had told her that he sings backup vocals sometimes, depending on the song. She let her eyes roam over the rest of the band. She kept getting a bright red light shot into her eye from one of the stage lights above them, so it was difficult to see at first.

“Oh, Zayn!” She yelled out over the music, hitting Emma on her arm. She hadn’t told her that he was in the band - in fact, she didn’t know much about the band at all.

There were two other people she didn’t recognize, one was a girl playing a keyboard and a guy with dark blond hair playing a bass guitar. Another gasp came from her as she finally got to clearly see the person tightly gripping the microphone. She truly didn’t expect to recognize more than just Niall and Zayn. There stood before her, in the middle of the stage with two big hands wrapped around the microphone and the top of the stand was a third familiar face. Sweat was already rolling down from his hairline, his long curly hair was messy on his head as he jerked around while singing. A white t-shirt hugged his body, sticking to him like glue, and a pair of dark jeans over his legs. The jet black ink of the snake tattoo stood out against his skin as the lights flashed over it, the creature wrapping perfectly around his arm. It was Harry.

The next song started almost immediately and it was another one that she recognized right off the top of the first note played. (Y/n)’s dad had a thing for rock music, and she knew the start of “Highway to Hell” like the back of her hand. She was impressed by the vocal range Harry was able to belt out into the microphone. Niall and the other guy she didn’t know the name of were singing the chorus with him. Emma was dancing like it was the actual band performing the song, but her behavior made (Y/n) more comfortable and soon she was doing the same.

Every now and then, Niall would flash them a toothy grin and give them a nod of his head, approving of their performance and dancing. (Y/n) was on her second drink, this one they grabbed soon after Niall left them and it was stronger than the first. She was feeling the blood rushing to her cheeks, and not from the dancing or close quarters of the crowd. It had been a while since she went out, so she was starting to feel that sensation flood through her - she wanted to have fun tonight.

For almost an hour, (Y/n) and Emma danced with each other, screaming out the lyrics they knew to different songs. They would do an impersonation of Niall every now and when he'd look towards them, air guitars and rock star head bangs acted out - all of which made him throw his head back and laugh. Like they usually did when they went out together, they’d grab onto each other and hug while singing or playfully run their hands down each other’s sides. It was all in fun, of course, and the alcohol contributed.

They both let go of their embrace as the music dialed down, twisting so they could face the stage. Niall was guzzling a bottle of water as Harry shoved his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. The bass player grabbed a stool from the back of the stage and brought it to Harry. Emma was familiar with this portion of the show, so she grabbed (Y/n)’s forearm to get her attention.

“I’m gonna get some water, do you want another drink?” Emma asked as she took a deep breath, exhausted from trying to outdo the performance on the stage.

“Yeah, get me another one of these.” (Y/n) nodded as she passed her empty cup, knowing she’d toss in the bin for her. Emma disappeared into the crowd to fight her way to the bar just as Harry adjusted the microphone stand and sat on the stool.

He was holding a bottle of water as he leaned into the microphone. “We’re gone slow it down for a bit.” His deep voice rattled through the speakers, a quick smirk shaping to his lips before he put the bottle to them.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but watch him as he swallowed half the contents of the bottle. It sloshed out, spilling over the corners of his mouth and running down his chin. Water droplets soaked and trailed down the fabric of his shirt. She was still so shocked by the fact he was the singer in Niall’s band. Maybe Emma just didn’t tell her because she knew they didn’t know each other. They met once, but they were strangers. He tossed the half empty water bottle on the ground, some of it spilled out since the top wasn’t screwed all the way on. His eyes roamed over the crowd as he grabbed the microphone. He glanced over his shoulder towards Niall, who gave him a nod and started up the next song.

(Y/n) had thoughts spinning in her head, the buzz from her drinks wasn’t helping her concentrate on just one thing. She wondered what songs they would do next. What kind of slower songs did they prefer to do? She figured it would be some of the same artists and bands they had covered thus far. Her eyes were glued to the floor, thoughts circling her mind at a hundred miles an hour. Had that second drink really been that strong or was she dizzy from being so close to the speakers?

(Y/n) lifted her head the moment she realized what song was being played. She shot her gaze to Niall, then over to the bass guitarist. She knew those chords better than any other song that existed. All those running thoughts vanished in her head as Harry’s voice dropped low with the first verse of the song. The way he sang the words just as slow as they originally were done made her heart skip a beat. This song was special to her. This was something she wasn’t even sure Emma knew. She talked about losing her mom quite often with Emma, but her brother was a different story. And as his favorite song was being sung, she couldn’t help but feel a sadness creep over her joyful mood. All the energy she had jolting through her veins like lightning had slowed to a dull pulse. She gulped as she glanced next to her, Emma hadn’t returned yet. Niall was too busy focusing on the chords he was playing to give her any looks. She felt like she was about to pass out, not from the heat built up from the crowd or the alcohol in her system - but from the overwhelming feelings washing through her. (Y/n)’s strained blue eyes flicked to Harry, and for just a split second he locked his gaze on her. It was gone before she could understand what was happening. She was sure he didn’t notice her, and if he did then he didn’t recognize her or care to remember the glimpse of her face he got at the tattoo shop.

She thought maybe watching Niall would distract her, but witnessing him playing the music she so easily knew was making it worse. She wasn’t sure how long she had been standing there with her eyes glued to the floor. The song wasn’t over yet, that’s all she was sure of.

“Oh, this is new! They’ve never done this one before!” Emma suddenly appeared next to her, a smile over her lips as she passed (Y/n) the drink.

She turned her head, glad to see that her friend had returned but sort of upset that she left in the first place. Emma couldn’t have known what song was going to be next, clearly she was unaware of it, and she didn’t know the intense attachment (Y/n) had to it. She couldn’t blame Emma for anything.

“Thanks. I’m running.. to the restroom!” She yelled over the speaker that was extremely close to them.

Emma gave her a thumbs up and a quick ‘be careful’. Before Emma could drop her arm, (Y/n) was pushing her way through the crowd towards the restroom, well she actually wasn’t sure where she was heading. She had to get away from that stage. She had to disappear for a few minutes to collect herself. It wasn’t the performance that bothered her - Niall was amazing, as were the others playing instruments, and Harry was doing the song justice. It was just her mind. Sweaty bodies bumped into her as she elbowed through everyone. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of people. It was so loud in the place that her ears were ringing. She couldn’t even hear the music anymore, she was unaware the song had finished and a new one was being played. She broke through the crowd, sucking in a quick breath as she realized she was free of the constraints of people around her.

The restroom was close by, and she stopped just outside the door to chug the alcohol from the cup Emma had just brought her. It was gone within a few seconds. She didn’t care about the sticky drops landing on her chest or the few rolling down her lips, smudging her lip gloss and tracing light lines in her makeup. The bathroom was cold, arctic cold at that. It was a feeling of utter relief to be free of the music, the crowd, the lights.

She stumbled to the sinks, almost forgetting the height of her shoes. Her hands gripped the cold porcelain of the sink in the farthest corner of the bathroom. The fuzzy feeling in her head hadn’t faded yet. She stared at the sink bowl, the silver lined drain gazing back up at her. (Y/n) spent far longer in the restroom than she meant to.

After ten minutes of her being gone, Emma decided she was going to check on (Y/n). She was in still in the restroom, and after Emma asked her several times if she was alright or feeling upset, they chose to return to the front of the crowd. (Y/n) convinced her friend that she was just having an upset stomach from the drinks, despite them stopping by the bar so she could get another before they got back to the stage. Emma didn’t think anything of it and just assumed that since it had been a while since (Y/n) had alcohol, maybe she really was just having a stomach ache.

The band continued on for a while longer, taking a few breaks here and there to drink water and take requests. (Y/n) considered submitting a song to Niall, but she was hesitant to. Besides, several other songs had been yelled out from the crowd, along with some people pushing their way to the front to the stage to call out a song title. She assumed this wouldn’t be the last time Emma drug her out to one of Niall’s shows, so she’d just request something next time. Instead of waiting around for the final song, she returned to the bar on her own and ordered a shot. The memories of her brother were faded by now, but she was determined to flood them out with alcohol. Tonight was supposed to be fun anyway, not filled with sadness.

Emma cheered loud for the band as they finished their last song and said a quick thank you to everyone. (Y/n) was perched on a bar stool, her eyes filling with stars as she stared at the bar, trying to stay awake. The usual dj returned to the stage to get the music going for the patrons of the bar. It was obvious that some people only showed for the live music because a good bit exited out the door once the set was over, but it was still a pretty big crowd in the building.

“Hey! There you are!” Emma shouted as she walked to the bar, her hand reaching out to take (Y/n)’s. “Feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Just got some water.” She presented a drunken smile as she held up the small cup of ice water.

“Good! You need to take a break.” Emma grinned back, glad to see that (Y/n) was enjoying herself, but wary of how much she had consumed. “C’mon, Niall and the others are gonna be in the back room for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” (Y/n) didn’t really have a choice on what to do as Emma yanked her off the bar stool and towards the beaded curtain she noticed earlier. It was sparkling from the lights reflecting on the crystals. “Where are we going?”

Emma gave her a laugh, amused by her obvious buzzed behavior, and just pulled her through the curtain. (Y/n) smacked a few strands of beads away from her face as they tried to tangle up in her hair. The same music that was playing in the main room was also playing in this one. She was intrigued by the new setting, curious to know what kind of important people would be filling it. Was it just for the bar’s usual customers or did you have to have some kind of pass? She wasn’t sure, the disco ball hanging from the ceiling distracted her and made the thoughts dissipate. Her eyes shifted around the room as she took in the new sights. Heavy velvet curtains dripped from the ceilings, covering the walls but not actually any windows they were simply decorations. There were three big, fancy leather sectionals placed in the room - two in each corner and one in the middle of the wall. Curtains hung to separate them, but they appeared to be pulled back tonight. Glowing purple lights centered on short tables in the middle of each couch lit up the leather, making everything seem magical and ethereal. She couldn’t miss the stripper’s pole that was in the middle of the small dance floor, elevated a few feet off the ground on an even smaller stage.

“Hi, Emma!” A girl appeared in front of them, and (Y/n) recognized her as the girl who was playing the keyboard on stage. The girl’s natural red hair was glowing under the mix of lights flashing in the room. “Who’s this beauty?”

Emma grinned, letting go of (Y/n)’s hand so she could gesture to her. “This is my friend, (Y/n). We live together.”

“Oh, nice to meet you!”

(Y/n) mustered up a polite smile and a small wave. “Hi.”

“This is Michelle.” Emma said, glancing at (Y/n) to make sure she was okay.

“You were awesome on stage.” She said to the girl who’s eyes she found to be pretty, the piercing icy blue lighting up even in the dark room.

“Thank you!” She nodded towards the table in the back corner. “I think we’ve claimed that one for the night if you girls wanna sit.”

“Sure!” Emma followed behind her, which led (Y/n) to do the same.

Michelle and Emma plopped down on the leather couch, immediately starting up a conversation as (Y/n) sat next to them, but not as close as they were together. She let her eyes move around the room again, searching for a familiar face. There were a handful of people already in the room, most of which were talking to a girl to place their drink orders. She moved her head a little, trying to see past someone. In that same moment, a security guard pulled back the beaded strings and let a group of people in. By the way they were dressed and how some of them had a smug look on their faces, she assumed these were the higher paying patrons of the establishment. Emerging from behind that crowd, (Y/n) saw Niall brush past the beads. His eyes roamed around until he spotted them in the back.

“Oh, there’s the guys.” Michelle nudged Emma to get her attention as she pointed towards them.

“Finally!” Emma jumped up as Niall got closer to them, she was ready to pounce on him. Their eyes met and he put on a big smirk for her, just as excited as she was to finally get his hands on her.

“Have you met everyone else?” Michelle asked as she slid over next to (Y/n), their thighs touching as she offered a kind smile.

“I’ve met Zayn.” She said with a soft sigh. “Kinda met Harry, but not really.”

“Oh, well, that’s Cory!” Michelle pointed to the guy that walked past Niall and Emma as they hugged and twirled each other around. “He plays bass.”

(Y/n) gave her a nod, silently letting her know she was paying attention. The guy approached the couch before Niall did, since Emma was holding things up with her pecks to his cheeks and lips. He gave Michelle a smile and shot his eyes to (Y/n). His brows furrowed and he held his hand out in a loosely pointing gesture towards her.

“Don’t think we’ve met.” He said, his confused look morphing to a smile as he sat in the spot across from her. “Niall told me Emma had a friend coming. (Y/n), right?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” She turned her lips up, giving him a gentle nod of her head.

“Not drinking tonight?” Michelle asked him with a cock of her brow as she noticed his empty hands.

He laughed back. “Harry’s bringing us a round.”

“Oh, of course he is.”

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Niall greeted her with a loud voice, happy to see that she was finally apart of their small crew. “How was the show?”

Emma took a seat on the opposite side of the coach, letting Niall claim the place closest to Cory. “I think she loved it!”

“It was so good. You guys are amazing.”

“Saw me shredding the fuck out of that guitar, yeah?” He joked, getting a laugh out as everyone rolled their eyes and smiled at him.

“You killed it, for sure.” (Y/n) took a sip of her water, wishing she had more than that was left in the cup.

“What are you drinking?” Michelle asked curiously.

She pushed out a breath. “Just water right now. I.. had a few already.”

“Your outfit is stunning. I love the top.”

Emma beamed as she heard the compliment. “I told you, (Y/n), you look so hot tonight!”

“I’ll say.” Michelle teased just as her phone buzzed in her hand, her eyes falling down to check the message.

(Y/n) felt a bit of uneasiness building in her stomach as she realized she was feeling out of place all of a sudden. Cory was also focused on his phone while Emma had thrown her leg over Niall’s lap and her arm around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. While she wasn’t with complete strangers, she didn’t really know Michelle and Cory. The only other person she knew hadn’t come over here yet, Zayn wasn’t anywhere near that she could see. Emma was distracted with Niall, leaving (Y/n) to fend for herself. She swallowed a lump that was forming in her throat and ran her hand over the ends of her skirt, adjusting it on the tops of her thighs. She reverted back to those insecure thoughts she had while on the drive here. Michelle was skinnier than Emma was, leaving her to feel even more vulnerable and uncomfortable. She tried to ignore it by picking up her head, wanting her eyes to catch something interesting to stare at for a bit - but instead she saw someone she recognized coming their way, two people actually.

“The party’s here!” Michelle announced as she, too, looked up and saw what was heading their way.

Everyone looked up to see Zayn walking to them, a girl on his arm, and Harry leading one of the bartenders from the front room to the table. The woman had a tray of beers balanced on her palm. Zayn sat down next to Niall, the woman holding onto his elbow sitting beside him. (Y/n) figured that was Alyssa - Emma had mentioned her several times while telling stories. The bartender sat the tray down and replied as Niall and Cory both thanked her for bringing them out. She disappeared, leaving them to all to reach for a cup.

“Take one, take one. Drink this damn shit.” Harry yelled with a joyful tone as he grabbed a cup before taking the space next to Michelle.

“Shit, I forgot to tell Harry about (Y/n).” Niall said with a groan, glancing at Emma as he got them each a cup.

“What?” Harry smacked his lips as he heard his name, not sure what Niall was referring to.

“My friend, (Y/n). She was with me at the shop when I got my tattoo.” Emma said, motioning her hand to where (Y/n) was sitting.

Harry leaned up to look past Michelle towards the person he had only briefly laid his eyes on before. He shrugged his shoulders, seemingly not concerned with her presence.

“I got the usual number, so she’s shit out of luck.” He casually said the harsh words.

Emma stood up to pass the drink to (Y/n). “She can have mine! Here, (Y/n), I’m not drinking anything else.”

She gladly took it and brought the cup to her lips, taking just a sip. That caught Zayn’s attention. He jolted up, pointing towards her with a grin on his face.

“Hey! I need to see you chug that since you’re so good at it.”

Emma clapped her hands together, remembering that she’s mentioned (Y/n)’s secret talent to him before. “C’mon, (Y/n)! Show ‘em how it’s done.”

“No, no. Not tonight.” (Y/n) let out a nervous laugh and slowly sipped the beer. It wasn’t her favorite drink, but she wasn’t going to be rude and turn down the offer.

Niall let a smirk grow on his lips. “I need to witness this, too. C’mon, we’ll get ya another one.”

She shook her head again. “I can’t, I might throw up. I’ve had a few.”

“What is it, can she chug quick?” Cory asked, leaning his elbow on his knee as he was now curious with the excitement coming from them.

“Fast as fuck, Cory. I swear, she’s insane.” Emma said with a proud smile.

“She’s exaggerating.” (Y/n) shook her head, trying to hide her flushing cheeks by turning her head.

Niall stood up, his cup still full, and stepped around the table to where (Y/n) was sitting. He grabbed her hand and yanked her up to her feet, laughing as she stumbled but quickly caught herself. Emma was cheering her on, knowing that Niall was about to challenge her.

“C’mon! Let’s see who can finish first.” Niall said, hitting his cup against hers, the liquid sloshing around in the clear plastic.

She let out a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes at them, aware that she wouldn’t hear the end of it if she chose not to do it. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and nodded.

“Fine.”

Niall boasted with excitement, screaming like his favorite team just won a game. Emma watched with a wide grin, her hands clasped together - she hadn’t seen (Y/n) have this much fun in a while, so she was ecstatic over it. Cory counted them down from three. (Y/n) relaxed her throat and let the liquid flow into her mouth. She closed her eyes, trying to dissociate herself so that she didn’t think about drinking quickly. The trick was to forget what you were actually doing and just.. do it. She was fairly good at the trick, seeming to perfect it. Niall still had about a third of his beer left when she dropped the cup on the table, not a single drop let.

Michelle jumped up and raised her hands high, screeching loud as she felt like she witnessed a miracle. Emma was laughing hard at the drop of Cory’s jaw and the impressed smirk on Zayn’s face.

“Fuck.” Niall choked out as he finished, his hand covering his stomach as he felt the beer rushing down his body.

“It’s all in the throat.” (Y/n) joked as she gave him a playful shove.

Niall chuckled, patting her on the back as if she achieved something so great. “M’glad you’re better with your throat than I am with mine.”

“Wait, wait. Now I’m feeling competitive.” Cory said with a laugh, glancing at his own drink that was still full.

“I can do one more, but that’s it.” (Y/n) said, her stomach bubbling from the contents filling it.

“Here. I barely drank any.” Michelle offered up her beer, more focused on the entertainment than drinking it herself.

“C’mon, let’s do it.” Cory jumped up, ready to put his previous years of being in a fraternity to the test.

Niall led the count this time, and as soon as the word ‘go’ left his mouth, (Y/n) had her lips on the rim of the cup, tipping it back into her mouth. Everyone watched again with amazement as laughter and cheers filled the space they shared. Well, all but one let out a joyful noise. Harry was sitting against the back of the couch with his arm over his chest, watching but seeming to not be amused by it. He thought Cory was being a flirt and Niall was just weak because he couldn’t get it down quicker than this girl.

“Damn, you’re good.” Cory couldn’t even finish his drink, he just gave up.

(Y/n) sat back down next to Michelle, who was definitely her newest cheerleader. Michelle had heard some positive things about (Y/n), so she was glad she was enjoying her company.

“I told you she was good.” Emma said with a smirk as if she had placed bets and won.

“Got a throat on you, for sure.” Cory sighed out as he fell against the couch, his gut churning.

Harry scoffed to himself. “Throat like a whore.”

Niall heard the comment, but he wasn’t sure who else did. He shot Harry a stern glare, but he obviously didn’t care. Michelle slid her arm around (Y/n)’s back and tightly gripped her shoulder, pulling them closer together.

“This girl is a champ.” She declared. “Welcome to the group, (Y/n). You’re officially one of the girls.”

Cory lifted his hand in a pretend toast. “It was an honor to get my ass kicked.”

“That’s a talent right there.” Zayn added, having not said that much tonight but he was definitely paying attention.

“That’s kind of gross.” Harry added to the conversation, a cocky smirk on his lips as he looked away from (Y/n).

She furrowed her brows lightly, catching what he said this time. “You’re probably just scared I’d beat you, too.”

It was most definitely the alcohol that was causing her to speak so freely to the person she knew the least about in the group of people surrounding her. Sure, she was confident in herself when she wasn’t sober and she wouldn’t let a rude comment slide by unnoticed, but she was ready to spit out another line if he tested her patience.

Harry snarled his lip up, not liking that she was speaking to him in that manner. “Please, you wish.”

Michelle was never one to shy away from talking back to Harry, so when she added a few words, (Y/n) was pleased to know she wasn’t fighting this battle alone. “You’re such a douche. You’d probably cry if she out drank you.”

Harry shot her a glance, but he wasn’t concerned with his friend’s comment. He wasn’t too content with the idea of some random girl he didn’t know coming into his circle of friends and grabbing all the attention. Maybe he was jealous, or maybe he really was just a douche.

“I wouldn’t be braggin’ about a loose throat.” He sat up, his elbows hitting his knees as he eyed (Y/n) with a cold stare. “Probably take down dicks faster than beer.”

(Y/n) didn’t feel comfortable with him staring at her like he wanted to throw his fists into her body. She pursed her lips in an effort to let it go, not wanting to start any unwanted drama among her newfound friends - well, some of them were friends. Emma nudged Niall and mumbled to him about controlling his friend, but Niall knew there wasn’t much he could do.

“Give it a rest, Harry.” He sighed out, knowing that if he didn’t at least try then Emma would be upset with him.

Harry let out an unamused laugh. “Truth hurts, Horan.”

“Y’don’t have to be a dick about it, Harry. Give the girl some respect.” Zayn added, taking a sip of his drink after. He was staring at the table, not even wanting to give Harry the extra attention of a spared glance.

“All m’saying is it’s not that impressive.” Harry shrugged, standing up so he could make an exit from the group and go occupy himself with something else. But before he walked away, he stopped in front of Michelle and let his eyes fall down to the girl he knew nothing about. “Does your mother know you drink like a grown man?”

“Har-“ Emma tried to quickly intervene, but it was too late. (Y/n) was already responding to him.

“My mom’s dead. So, no, probably not.” Her cold tone and narrowed eyes made

Harry gently furrowed his brows. He heard exactly what she said, but he didn’t seem to care. Niall got up to grab his elbow, knowing that he should do something before any more hurtful comments were made.

“C’mon.” He pulled Harry away from the seating area, mumbling something about him needing to relax.

“Sorry about him.” Cory was the first to apologize as Niall and Harry disappeared into the small crowd.

(Y/n) fell back against the couch, her arms crossing over her chest. She licked her lips and nodded to him, not wanting to talk for fear of losing control of her emotions. Michelle gently rested her hand atop (Y/n)’s thigh, not wanting to be too overbearing but hoping to give her some comfort.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I told Niall to make sure he was nice tonight.” Emma frowned, knowing that the comment Harry made would haunt (Y/n) for the next few days, if not longer.

“Yeah, he’s a bit of a dick.” Michelle said, a disappointment expression covering her features. “He doesn’t do well with change and.. I guess you being here is changing things. But it’s not your fault.”

“It’s fine. I.. I’m just going to ignore it.”

(Y/n) felt a burn in her chest that wasn’t from the drinks she downed minutes ago. This was a type of feeling erupting from the insults she caught. She was so upset with what was said to her, not just the thing about her mother, but more than that.. she was confused as to what she did that warranted that sort of treatment. Had she been rude to him by not greeting him like she did the others? He was so standoffish though, he didn’t appear to want to be spoken to. He acted like she wasn’t even sitting there when he walked up, even though he looked at her when he saw her next to Michelle. Was something said about her to him from someone else that he didn’t find appealing? Had Zayn not liked her when they met the second time, perhaps he made a comment to Harry? No, she shook that thought off. Zayn seemed to enjoy her company.

Cory mentioned something about getting a few shots, to which (Y/n) just nodded and agreed that it would be fun. He left the girls and Zayn alone, which made Zayn start up a conversation. (Y/n) was listening, but she wasn’t contributing. All she could think about was the rude behavior Harry displayed towards her. Surely, there must have been something she did to him. She couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Over towards the beaded curtain that was rattling from the vibrations of the music pounding through the building, Niall stood in front of Harry with a clearly irritated look on his face. Harry leaned against the wall, listening with a blank stare as Niall scolded him.

“Are you fucking serious? Why are you so rude?” Niall spat out, throwing his hands up in the air as the disbelief stuck in his mind. “Emma invited her out, you have no right to be such a dick to her.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know the chick.” Harry shrugged, not caring to listen to Niall’s parenting but he knew he couldn’t escape just yet.

“It doesn’t matter, Harry. I told you she was going to be here tonight and to be fuckin’ polite to her. At least treat her like she’s a person and not a piece of garbage.”

Harry huffed and moved his eyes to Niall’s. “I don’t know her. I don’t care about being polite to her.”

Niall shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. “Get to fuckin’ know her then. She’s not going anywhere, that’s Emma’s friend. Act like you have sense.”

“Look, I didn’t fuckin’ know her mom was dead.”

Niall wanted to wring his neck, he wasn’t getting the point. “It doesn’t matter! Act nice. Pretend to have a fuckin’ heart for once.”

Harry pushed himself off the wall, the conversation now boring him. He gave Niall a wave before deciding it was best if he just found a distraction for the rest of the night. Niall couldn’t quite understand why he was being so rude to (Y/n), but there was nothing else that he could say. If his words worked, then that would be a miracle.

(Y/n) sat there quietly for a handful of minutes, ignoring the small talk that was going on around the table. Her eyes were roaming out through the crowd that had thickened since Niall stormed off with Harry in tow. The pole fixed to the ceiling was now occupied by a dancer in a lace bodysuit, strategically placed rips and holes scattered on the fabric. She seemed to have some of the people’s attention. One person she didn’t have, though, was Harry, and (Y/n) took notice of that only because she saw him with his forearm secured around some woman’s waist. He had pulled her close to him, smirking and biting his lips as the woman spoke to him.

(Y/n) wasn’t intending on finding him in the crowd to gaze at him, it just sort of happened. She was unfamiliar with the surroundings, so her eyes fixated on something she recognized - even if it wasn’t the nicest person she’d ever met. He was completely unaware of anything happening around him, all he was concerned with was what lived between that woman’s legs. The sight of him groping her ass and leaning down to whisper things in her ear left a nasty taste in (Y/n)’s mouth. She found it unpleasant to witness. That sort of thing should be private.

Michelle suddenly interrupted her trance with a pat to her leg before she stood up. “Do you wanna dance?”

(Y/n) looked up and let out a nervous laugh. “I think I’m okay sitting here for a bit.”

Michelle groaned and grabbed her hand, tugging her up with all her strength. “C’mon! Let’s go have some fun!”

She couldn’t stop Michelle from dragging her into the crowd, so she just let it happen. Emma gave her an encouraging cheer before they vanished from the table. The girls were shoving between people to find a more open spot on the dance floor, and once Michelle was pleased with where they ended up, she turned towards (Y/n) and grabbed onto her waist. She decided it was best to just let all those thoughts about the things Harry said and the way he acted go. Tonight was meant for fun, not dwelling. She relaxed her body and began swaying to the music with Michelle.

“That ass!” Michelle teased in a loud shout as (Y/n) shook her hips to the song that was blasting through the ceiling.

All she could do was laugh as a layer of blush covered her cheeks. The music was rattling the building and the alcohol was still cycling through her veins. She was enjoying herself again, no longer fixated on that song or those comments. It wasn’t long until Emma and Niall appeared next to them. Emma turned towards them while Niall placed himself behind her, hands secured on her waist. The three of them danced and sang along with the music while Niall mostly laughed and kept his hands on Emma.

(Y/n) had been nervous about going out tonight - not only going to a new place, but meeting a group of new people. She was worried that her first impression wouldn’t be good, that they wouldn’t like the energy she brought. It was obvious that all of them, aside from Harry, actually enjoyed her company. Even though she didn’t get a chance to talk to a few of them, like Alyssa, the way she did Michelle, she was confident that her impression was well made. The pulsing of the music through her ears pushed out the thoughts regarding Harry. Maybe he was just in a bad mood, or maybe he was just a bitter person. She didn’t know for sure, and she didn’t care that much anymore.

Niall disappeared to get himself a beer, leaving Emma to take (Y/n)’s hand and lift it in the air, jumping to the beat of the song and screaming the lyrics. Michelle was thrilled to have another girl to be around, and she hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time they saw each other. She knew she’d have to beg Emma to let her and (Y/n) get together again. (Y/n) wasn’t surprised by Emma’s energetic, sober performance. She didn’t need alcohol running in her system to enjoy a good song. The night was starting to feel endless and free, in the best way. That wouldn’t last too long, though.

At some point, her eyes were absentmindedly looking over Michelle’s shoulder and were pretty much out of focus until her brain registered that familiar face again. Harry. She tried to look away, but she couldn’t force herself to as she saw that same woman he was with earlier place her lips on his. Something deep inside of her gut churned and she furrowed her brows at her own thoughts. She shook her head lightly and cut her eyes away from them. Almost as if there was a gravitational pull she couldn’t stop, her eyes shifted back to him after a few seconds.

His hair was slick with sweat, his curls shining under the flashing lights. The sweat on his skin shined like diamonds as the woman ran her hand down his forearm. Her nails scratched over the tattoo he showed off at the shop, veins popped out and skin tight around his muscles. It was like she noticed every single thing about him. Someone got in her way, blocking her view entirely. She huffed and looked towards Emma, who was still singing happily to the song playing.

(Y/n) was genuinely confused as to why she was thinking about him so much. Why did she care what he was doing? Why did she care who he was with? She hardly knew him. She rolled her eyes to herself and lifted her head in time to see Niall walking up, three drinks in his hand. He offered one to her and one to Michelle. They cheered together, laughing as Niall stumbled his way back to Emma. She jumped back into the song and started singing again, enjoying herself for the rest of the night.

—•—

When morning rolled over, (Y/n) didn’t move an inch in her bed until well after eleven o’clock. She knew Emma would sleep in with Niall, so she didn’t bother trying to be up before them. Niall stayed over every now and then, and of course he always requested a meal be made if the girls were up for it. (Y/n) was put on breakfast duty since Emma said she’s better at it. Niall slurred a quick beg to her last night before Emma drug him to the bedroom to get changed and tucked in. (Y/n) agreed to it, despite knowing her head would be pounding in the morning.

And it most definitely was. She groaned as she squeezed her eyes shut, the sunlight peeking through the curtains was enough to blind her. There was no point in sleeping any more of the day away, so she reluctantly got out of the bed after taking a few minutes to compose herself. Her arms stretched high above her head, her back popping as she twisted slightly. She sighed in relief, a weight was lifted from her as her body contorted with her stretches and groans.

Her trip to the bathroom presented her with a horrific reflection in the mirror. Her makeup had not been properly removed before she fell into her bed last night, and her hair was a wreck. She debated on taking a shower, but eventually decided it would be best to get it over with. Emma and Niall were still passed out down the hall, so she wasn’t worried about waking anyone or not having the food done in time. Niall would definitely still want breakfast no matter the time.

After her quick shower, she got changed into a set of loungewear and headed to the kitchen. She gathered all the items from the refrigerator and the cabinets, staying mindful of Niall’s large appetite. He did say he would throw in some money on their next grocery run, so she wasn’t concerned with rationing any particular item. She wasn’t in there very long by herself. Emma strolled in after a few minutes, having smelled the food starting to cook.

“Good morning, sunshine.” (Y/n) smirked as she saw Emma’s tired expression and tangled hair.

“Morning.” She mumbled back. “Niall slept like an animal last night.”

“Did he move around a lot?”

Emma groaned. “A lot? He moved constantly. Usually he doesn’t. I’m so tired.”

(Y/n) held back a laugh and just smiled. Emma sat down at the dining table, her eyes focused on what (Y/n) was doing. She just watched in silence for a while, too tired to say anything. They were by themselves for the majority of the cooking process. The bedroom door opened down the hall, but the bathroom door shut moments after. Niall spent a bit of time in the bathroom, which made Emma groan and hope that he wasn’t throwing up or suffering a bad hangover. He had quite a few drinks.

Eventually, almost the same time the food was ready, he walked in the kitchen with a smile on his face. Emma rolled her eyes as he tried to give her a kiss and a hug, and an apology about sleeping so roughly. (Y/n) let out a chuckle as he threw his hands up in defeat.

“Thanks for cooking, (Y/n).” Niall said once he fixed his plate and sat down at the table with them.

“You’re welcome.”

Emma looked up from her plate and gave Niall a stern glare. He was confused at first, but when she shot her gaze to (Y/n), he miraculously remembered the conversation they had in the middle of the night when he woke Emma up complaining about his head hurting. It took them a while to fall back asleep, so they just talked for a bit.

He cleared his throat after taking a sip of his water. “Um, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) looked his way. “Yeah?”

Niall took in a deep breath and slowly pushed it out. He seemed a bit hesitant at first, but he was trying to figure out what to say. He licked his lips and leaned back in his chair, forgetting the food for now.

“I want to apologize to you.”

(Y/n) dropped her brows, spared Emma a glance, then looked back to him. “What?”

He lightly sighed. “Harry.”

She was still unsure what Niall meant for a few moments, but suddenly everything came crashing back into her mind. She adjusted herself in the chair and started picking at the pancake with her fork, not really wanting to bring it back up but knowing she can’t avoid it now.

“It’s fine, Niall.”

“No, it isn’t.” Emma said, just as embarrassed by the situation as Niall was.

“He said some shitty things to you.. and I’m sorry. I.. I didn’t want that to happen, none of us did. Zayn sent me a text this morning telling me to tell you he was sorry, too.”

(Y/n) swallowed gently, surprised that someone else had reached out about the situation. She thought what happened was unfortunate, but she didn’t think she’d receive such a reaction from them. Emma had a frown fixed on her lips as she kept her eyes on Niall, waiting for him to continue.

“The last thing Emma and I wanted was for you to think our friends didn’t like you. They do, they really do. I can’t speak for him but.. the rest of us are sorry.”

“Niall, it’s not that big of a deal, I promise.” (Y/n) tried to sail past it, but it wasn’t going to go down that easy.

“Yes it is, (Y/n).” He breathed out. “He’s an ass and he says some messed up things. We’re all used to it.. and you aren’t. You shouldn’t have been spoken to that way.”

For a second, she was just ready to ignore it all again, but she changed her mind. Niall was genuinely upset and trying his best to make up for it, and she could tell Emma felt the same way. She remembered how everyone reacted when Harry said what he said last night. She thought about the way she saw Cory pinch his nose and shake his head in disbelief, and how Alyssa smacked Zayn’s arm in an attempt to get him to intervene. She remembered all the little things each of them did and how they all seemed to be in shock, embarrassed, or annoyed with it.

“Okay.. I accept the apology.” She finally said, trying to give him the best smile she could. “I promise, it’s okay.”

“I’ll beat his ass if he says something like that to you again.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.

Niall couldn’t resist laughing at her, and (Y/n) quickly joined her. Although the previous night had a rollercoaster of events, she was glad that she had this new group of people to consider as her friends. For now, she’d just forget about Harry and focus on the positive memories she was able to create. As far as she was concerned, she would be perfectly fine if she never saw him again.

[a/n: I’ve been very sick these past few days but I wanted to get this out so pls ignore any spelling mistakes and all that, I’ll fix them later. if you want to be on the taglist, let me know! anyways, hope you enjoy this! love uuu! Also just a reminder that while this is lhh, he’s older in this series than actual lhh was]

taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl l @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 @lizsogolden @prettygurl-2009 @boopookie @mypolicemanharryyy

[volturissideslut]

𝕮𝖆𝖎𝖚𝖘 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

I actually really enjoyed making the nsfw alphabet for Marcus in my last request (Here), so here's Caius too and i'll be doing one for Aro later

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

While Caius is still attentive after sex, it really depends on how it went down. If it was a frustration fuck then he's giving you a long kiss in thanks and making sure you're okay, probably drawing a shared bath and finding a 'snack' to share. But if it was a quickie then he'll quickly pat your hair back down and make sure you look presentable again with a quick kiss and he's off.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Caius loves his own torso. This goes from his shoulders and chest, down to his lower abdomen. He's an artist at heart and something about the way your hand looks pushing on his torso while you ride him is picturesque. And that leads me to his favourite feature on you: your hands. He loves them so much, your hands are his obsession. From kissing the back of them, to watching them wrapper around his cock. From your nails digging into his neck, to you playing gently with his hair.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

When Caius cums there isn't much of it, but it's thick and a pearlescent white. He loves cumming in you plain and simple. Theres just something about the fact that part of him is in you that gets to him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He really really really wants you to secretly cockwarm him in court. Just sit there with him fully sheathed inside of you and have nobody any the wiser. To claim you as his in from of these fools and have them be so beneath him they don't even know. It's a power move. And insanely fucking hot.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before he met you Caius was a little bit of a manwhore in my professional opinion, and so i think that he has plenty of experience in bed. Of course none of that compares to you in his eyes, but his past... encounters... with humans and vampires alike all still happened.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl!!! Enough said. The knowledge that he is in total control and still gets to make you do all the work is a bonus, but it's really about the fact he gets to watch you - oh so jaw dropping you - have your way with him. He get's to watch all your little reactions when you change the tempo, or how wide eyed and flustered you get when he unexpectedly bucks his hips up.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Nah, I can see him finding the moment relatively serious. Maybe not so much if you're having a giggly and fun little day but this grumpy bum has appearances to keep up. At least, thats what you'll say if anyone ever asks. Because in reality giggly soft sex makes his heart go all ooey gooey and soft. He could pepper your face with kisses and make bad jokes in bed all day, but shhh thats for your ears only.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's a well groomed man, not much else to say about that. He'd also prefer if you were too, but he is not afraid in the slightest to get his hands dirty and face the bush

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Again it depends on of he's in one of his many mood swings. He can be, especially of you hint at it. He'll beckon to your will any day. But he probably won't think to set it up all romantically unless it's near a special date for the two of you. And no, he doesn't care that the years all blurr together when you live for eternity. He'll celebrate an anniversary every year over the millennia's if it gives him an excuse to spoil you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As i previously said, Caius was a manwhore back in the day. I think this cheeky fucker has a high sex drive, and so it really depends on you. If you match his high drive then no, because he's too busy giving you the night of your life instead. But if your sex drive is on the lower side he'll have some alone time happily.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BONDAGE AND WAXPLAY does this even need explaining? I can't decide if this kinky fucker is more of a masochist or sadist to be completely honest with you... Might also let you peg him

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

His throne. It's such a rush to him to have you there on the symbol of his power and leaving him powerless with the way you're fucking him. Moreover, having you whimpering and begging for him feels like pure adrenaline going through his vains, as if he's gorging himself on blood and getting blood-high or something

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Any form of you initiating really, he's always ready to head back to his chamber and get freaky. Once you wore lingerie and smeared yourself in blood so he could lick it off you and he's never been more excited in his life.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Somebody else seeing you in a vulnerable state. Caius is incredibly possessive but he's even more protective. It's all fun and games playing it risky in the throne room until someone actually walks in and he tears their throat out. Could have this all have been avoided if you just did it in a secure location? Yes. Will he still rip off the head of whoever walks in? Also yes.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I feel like he much prefers to give oral and instead of receiving oral he likes to receive handjobs. Please stroke his cock painstakingly slow with a fresh set of sharp nails on you, he mighty combust or, y'know, bust.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Hard and rough, it's sloppy toppy and animalistic. It's hedonistic fucking until you feel so good it's like you've ascended. And yes, he can switch to something more passionate and gentle and often will on anniversaries or if the mood presents itself, but dirty fucking is is fave

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He loves them, and they happen all the time. A quickie before his next trial? Yes please. A quickie before his next meeting with Aro and Marcus? It would be wrong to refuse. A quickie before he heads out to battle? It'll help him think straight. You get the gist

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's all game, ready to risk it all for a good time with you. Well, almost anything. You tried temperature play once but now that's banned because vampires and fire don't exactly mix well together. But don't get me wrong, he would totally walk through fire for that pussy, but he once again had that protective side of him flare up and you are now banner from being within 3 metres of open flames.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Is this even a question? He'd spend the rest of his eternity fucking you with little breaks to feed or paint if he could. Actually, maybe he should bring that up in his next meeting... nah, he enjoys ruling and the feel of power too much. Though he would appreciate some more free time for some quality time. In all honesty, he's just a horny bastard.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yeah, it's not like he's got a collection or anything but he definitely has his fare share for you to use on him or his to use on you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Caius is such a massive tease. If Marcus is the advocate for overstim then Caius is the advocate for edging. Theres something that really ignites in him when you're begging him to just let you cum already

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a grunter. Booo! But wait, don't throw your tomatoes yet. If you just tell him that you think the sound of him moaning is incredibly attractive and sexy he'll make it a point to be vocal for you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes when you get all dressed up and dolled up for him. Like a lot. Is willing to spend half the budget on nails, shoes, dresses, and lingerie for you because... wow

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Baby, Sweetie, Darling, oh, sweet child of mine. Good luck

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Even through vampires can't sleep, he feels so relaxed afterward. It's a 50/50 shot really, either he want's to be babied and needs affection or is pumped up enough to go slaughter a whole village

Marcus vers.

[thanosscross]

hii!! <33

i love your work and i just have to request something for.. choi seung-hyun :)

yk top isnt in the kpop industry after all the things that happened to him (i feel so bad for him) so, when he was recording squid game.. guess what!?? apart from jo yuri, reader. a kpop idol whom during the last months/year has become famous there acting!! oh gosh he is so in shock because he gets flashbacks. and aside from that, our character is associated with his, so he has to spend plenty of time with us

Absolutely love it, I do I do. So let's do this

My Darling - Choi Seung Hyun x reader

Summary: Meeting Choi Seung Hyun was an honor for you, considering you had stepped into his spotlight as a new upcoming k-pop rapper after he retired, so what happens whenever you not only meet him, but get closer than most with him

Warnings: You will cry.

Going on set for squid games for the first time was an experience, especially meeting everybody, yes you had been on a handful of other production, but nothing like this. Whenever you first given you script, you were sure you'd be one of the first to be killed off, but finding out you live throughout the second season was a shock, especially because you had a tour coming up soon.

Walking through the groups of people you felt nervous, because of your management company you had missed your first reading for the script, meaning everybody had already met other than you. You chose to sit in your chair off to the side going over your script, trying to anybody wearing a tracksuit with 230 on it, knowing that was going to be the main co-star you filmed with. Unknown to you Choi Seung Hyun had already spotted you and was standing in shock "Hey? You okay man?" Jae-won (Player 124) asked him seeing him staring across the room "Y-Yea, does she look familiar?" He asked motioning to you "I know we film with her, but-" Seung Hyun was cut off by a soft voice in front of him "Hi, I'm uh..Y/n l/n..I guess we're gonna be love interests" You smiled sweetly extending your hand to shake his, taken by surprise by him bending slightly to kiss the top of your hand gently "Choi Seung Hyun" He introduced, you blushed scratching the back of your neck shyly "O-Oh I know, being a big female rapper in k-pop, you have to know who came before you" You smiled, his smirk turned into a genuine smile after that "That's where I recognized you, you're that y/n!" He explained, sighing in relief that it wasn't going to be awkward you smiled "Do you guys wanna go over a few lines with me?..I couldn't make it the other day" You asked shyly, both men excitedly volunteering.

Filming with Seung Hyun was fun, he was always trying to flirt with you or get you to laugh, while it flustered you, the directors and cast loved it, all of them explaining it's giving their characters alot more chemistry behind the acting. As you stood on your mark, Seung Hyun stood on the opposite side of the scene, filming scenes for a close up argument between your character and his, as the director called action you attempted to start your lines "You selfish!- I can't! he's standing there so sweet!" You frowned, stepping forward hugging him tightly "You're not selfish" You frowned, the past few weeks of filming you and Seung Hyun got close, opening up to each other over wine after filming and coffee before filming. Seung Hyun just chuckled "I know, would it help if I made you mad?" He asked raising his eyebrows, you shrugged stepping back to your marker "Couldn't hurt to try" You smiled softly, he just smiled before looking at you "Your music is by far better than anything I've produced, and you've surpassed me in the rap world" He explained, you both knew he was just coming up with things that would get under his skin, it wasn't that you were a huge fangirl, but going into the music world at first you idolized T.O.P, so after his scandal and and him leaving BigBang you held a soft spot for him, he was a big reason you even learned how to rap that fast.

You filmed the scene with ease after that, only stumbling on your lines one more time after that for the day. You were now standing with your back to the wall, Seung Hyun standing a few inches in front of you, his arm blocking one side of your head, the other had a camera positioned to see the both of you perfectly "Y/n, Seung Hyun, Are you two okay to start?" Dong-Hyuk asked, you were grateful to have such a thoughtful director, any intense scenes always making sure you were comfortable and ready before filming started. "Let's do this" Seung Hyun smiled, you nodded in agreement as they called out action. "I thought I told you to pick to stay, senorita" he growled, grabbing the bright red X patch that was velcroid to your jacket "You're not the boss of me" You stated glaring him down, trying your best to remember what line was your cue to try and get away "Didn't I say I'd kill you?" He asked reaching his hand back, forgetting your cue you yelped as Seung Hyun's came in contact with your throat, pinning you to the wall, you both glanced at the director in shock, almost like children after accidentally hurting each other. "Cut!" He called out "Y/n! What was that? Did you forget your cue or something?" The director called out, your eyes were stuck on Seung Hyun though, his hand slowly pulling away from you, being replaced by his gentle finger tips "Are you okay?" He asked softly, trying to see with the current lighting if he hurt you "I'm alright, it just scared me..I guess I did forget" You whispered, you wouldn't admit why exactly you forgot, it definitely wasn't because of Seung Hyun's voice whenever he was acting.

After filming you were sitting on your trailer steps, watching the rain fall around you "Y/n" Seung Hyun's soft voice sounded from somewhere around the corner of your trailer "Seung Hyun?" You asked, trying to hear him over the soft pattering of the raindrops, you soon realized he wasn't talking to you, he was talking about you. Peeking around the corner you saw him a few trailers down talking on the phone with somebody "Yea yea I know that, but what else?" He asked, you stayed hidden behind your trailer, still listening in, not at all sorry to admit you really cared about what he thought about you, but also sorry to admit you felt the need to listen in on his conversation to know. "I don't know man! W-working with her has been fun.." You heard between the muffled quiet bits of his conversation, you were about to walk away before you heard him raise his voice again "Oh no! No! Not like that!" He shouted, you could only wonder what he meant or what he was talking about, you chose to keep it to yourself for now.

Walking up with a startle off put your morning severely, being a rising star wasn't easy, you had creeps at meet and greets, stalkers that went to extensive lengths to try and get your attention, some of which giving you pretty intense nightmares and ptsd. Walking onto set you gripped your script, you had accidentally slept through coffee with Seung Hyun, which gave him a weird feeling, like there was something wrong. "Y/n?" You heard his voice before you slammed into his body, you scampered back as Seung Hyun caught you easily, steading you on your feet before taking in your panicked look "Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?" He asked tilting his head, you didn't reply, just wrapping your arms tightly around him trying not to show to anybody that you were close to tears. Now Seung Hyun wasn't a liar, he wasn't very fond of physical touching, but there was something about your panicked terrified state that gave him a craving to hold onto you until you were back to your usual bubbly self. Wrapping his arms around you he rested a hand on the back of your head, holding you close to him "What happened this morning?" He asked "You were fine whenever I left last night.." He continued giving you a soft squeeze before pulling away, keeping a gentle hand resting on your shoulder. "I don't..Just..bad dreams" You smiled softly, trying to shake off any remaining anxiety you had "Are you okay to do today?" He asked rubbing your shoulder gently, you relaxed further under his touch "Y-Yea yea, I'm okay" You smiled, he gave you an encouraging smile before leading you over to your seats, that you both had moved closer to each other during one of your interviews earlier in the week.

As you read through this episodes script you mumbled quietly to yourself, unknowingly singing along to different verses of different songs that popped into your head "Okay, remind me when I'm in the studio again to get you to come do a collaboration track together" Seung Hyun smiled walking over to you from where he was filming "Don't play with my teenage fangirl heart like that" You teased, you both knew how you felt towards BigBang as a teenager, how you had posters of your co-star in your room before and after his rap career. "I'm serious, that's some good work" He smiled sincerely squeezing your shoulder sitting down, you just offered him an awkward smile, you knew today was Seung Hyun's last day on set, and it would be the last day you truly got to spend with him, and it'd be a lie if you said you wouldn't miss him.

You had one scene left between you and Seung Hyun before his characters death scene, and you were a nervous wreck, as the director called out action you stood in the colored room for the game 'mingle' "What was that stunt you pulled, huh!?" He shouted, backing you against the wall "I-I was trying to save her-" He cut you off, you did your best to act nervous and scared, but it was hard whenever the man currently yelling at you would apologize the minute any scenes where he had to objectify or be rude to you were done. "Her!? What about you, senorita!?" He screamed before backing up running his hands through his hair before going back to standing in front of you "I'm so fucking mad right now!" He shouted, pulling out another piece of candy out of his prop necklace placing it in his mouth "Just calm down! I'm okay, alright!" You argued, he just put his arm against the wall glaring at you, you took a deep breath getting ready for your cue "Don't try to tell Thanos the great to- Umpf!" He started until you smacked your lips against his, his hands going to your hips holding you close to his body waiting for the director to call Cut. Whenever he did you were a flustered mess, who knew that man could kiss like that?

After filming wrapped you were quick to get back to your trailer, shutting the door softly behind you before placing your face in your hands trying to take deep breaths, you didn't want anybody to see you like this, you felt stupid and overdramatic, but you and Seung Hyun had gotten really close during your months of filming, and it made you sad thinking about how busy you were, and how little you'd get to see your new friend, you wouldn't say you were an emotional person, but whenever you felt something, you truly felt it to where it'd effect everything you'd do. As you took your final shaky deep breath you jumped hearing the door close "Y/n?.." Seung Hyun asked softly, he thought you had been acting even odder than before as they got closer to his characters death, but after you left while he was saying his thank you's and goodbye's to everybody it was obvious now something was really bothering you. Seeing your teary eyes and tear stained cheeks he felt a pain in his chest "Oh, Jagi" He whispered pulling you into a hug, now Seung Hyun wasn't sure what he felt towards you, but he knew it was something different, he wanted to talk to you everyday, wanted to be the one to comfort you when you're sad, hold you whenever you're scared, and he knew friends didn't want that with other friends.

"I really liked hanging out and meeting you Seung Hyun" You sniffled stepping back, starting to bow in respect but he stopped you "Is that what you've been so upset about?" He asked, a soft smile playing on his lips, you just shrugged against his hold on you, not trusting your voice to speak "I didn't think you'd miss me that bad" He smiled, leading you over to sit on the couch that was placed in the bigger space of the trailer "I can't...have alot of friends...I mean you know, and being here, I feel like I finally found one, and I don't know when I'll see you again" You frowned, feeling tears start to build back up in your eyes, his expression was quick to match yours as he hugged you again "You'll see me again, y/n, don't worry I don't care if I have to buy V.I.P tickets to see you at every show, you're too cool to just not be your friend after this" He smiled giving you a slight squeeze before pulling away, you sniffled wiping your face "You wouldn't pay, I'd let you come watch backstage" You whispered, his frown turning into a soft chuckle "Well then, I'll be looking forward to it" He smiled, kissing your forehead softly "I had fun hanging out with you too, y/n" He added on, holding your hand in his gently "Promise we'll see each other again?" You whispered, feeling yourself about to cry again "I swear to you, jagi" he whispered before leaning back pulling you into a hug, holding you until you fell asleep.

Whenever you woke up the feeling of sadness was even heaiver seeing Seung Hyun gone and a small note sitting on the table

'Jagi,

I had to get going in time to make an art show, but I will be back to see you soon! Just over the last month, you've made me feel things I never thought I would be capable of feeling, that's how I knew you were my best friend. Acting with you and all the nights we spent talking will forever be an honor for me, your beauty is like no others, my eyes are drawn it to like a bumble bee to a flower. You give me hope there's a lot of good things to keep trying for, and for that, I will always be grateful for you my jagi.

Yours truly,

Choi Seung Hyun

T O P <3'

Reading the note you felt yourself on the verge of crying again, wanting to smack him for not letting you have a chance to thank him for being so sweet to you, sighing you got up, ready to get finished filming so you could see your best friend again.

--

HAHA MY FIRST SLIGHTLY SAD FIC AND MY FIANCE IS SO PISSED SHE'S GOTTA WAIT FOR A PART TWO!!

[procyonloser]

"They're asking, you know." Lucifer said, curled up against Adam's side. "Well. Angel is asking."

"Of course he is." Adam said with a snort, before letting silence roll over them. It'd been an awkward point between them, and neither was budging on the matter.

They still hadn't had penetrative sex yet. They'd done plenty of other things, but Lucifer said while he was willing to bottom, he insisted on reciprocation if he was going to. Adam, on the other hand, flat out refused to bottom at all. He wasn't made to do that, he wasn't made to let anyone else make him submit. Lucifer said that was fine, he wasn't going to make him, but that they'd not be doing more than what they were doing right now then.

Adam thought it would piss him off, thought it would ruin this weird fucking relationship they'd built together - it'd been kind of a rough patch between him and Lilith, obviously. But, Adam realized... He didn't actually mind not doing more with Lucifer. He was... weirdly happy with him, and they still had fun together, but Adam had never been in a relationship where he was happy just to... be with them, and not out of obligation?

Maybe he loved him.

"Okay," Adam said finally, quietly, as the thought sunk in with him. He realized he didn't care so much anymore, and though it didn't really appeal to him, the thought that he'd be happy never having sex with Lucifer led him to the lightbulb thought that... maybe it was fine if Lucifer topped him, at least once.

Lucifer looked up at him curiously, eyebrows fit together. "Okay?"

"I'll bottom tonight." Adam said simply, looking ahead at the television, some awful romcom they enjoyed.

Lucifer's eyes grew wide, and Adam could watch red bleed into gold, and horns pushing up under his skin, before pushing through. It was always so obvious when he was turned on, and Adam loved it, loved that he made him feel like this.

Then the room grew crowded, as copies and copies of Lucifer filled it, all staring down Adam with a great hunger.

"Wh-" Adam started, blinking and startled. Fingers found his chin, and tilted it up to look at one of the Lucifer's standing above him.

"I have to make tonight count, don't I?" Lucifer asked, in unison across his copies, and a tinge of fear ran through Adam.

[marlynnofmany]

Cave Space

The mechanic’s shop was the loudest and dirtiest place I’d seen on this space station so far, and somehow that was comforting. All the ritzy retail stores and elaborate restaurants tried to look as fancy as possible, even the cheap ones. But this place felt honest and straightforward. It had bare concrete floors and the kind of shelf displays that didn’t bother with signs to actually explain what you were looking at. A real mechanic would know.

I had no idea, but I was just here to help haul things. Blip and Blop might have been a better choice if the things in question proved to be heavy, but they were off wrangling jumbo tubs of food and medical supplies with Eggskin, and anyways we had the big hoversled this time. It would probably be fine.

Mimi was talking fast with an employee about manifolds and vents and lots of other words, waving a couple green tentacles while he stood on the rest. The employee was the biggest Heatseeker I could remember seeing, which was still only mid-rib-height on me. He reminded me of the short gym guys from back home, able to build muscle in every direction but up.

A box thumped onto a counter near me. “You here to help lift and pull?”

I found an older human woman grinning at me, wearing a tank top covered in grease and long white hair held back in a ponytail. Also the kind of arm muscle that said she yanked engines out of spaceships for fun.

“Something like that,” I said with a smile. “Gotta make sure nothing falls off the sled.”

She waved a hand. “Ah, we’ll strap it down for you. There’s enough ramps around here to cause problems if we don’t.”

“I bet,” I said, thinking back to the last time I’d chased something important down a hill. “Don’t want to risk any explosions or chemical spills.”

“Or slamming a gear shaft into the side of a building,” she agreed. “There was a bit of a mess the last time someone was sure they didn’t need their stuff tied down.”

I winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, it’s standard procedure now,” she said, opening the box to pull out multiple smaller boxes, all labeled with arcane terminology and numbers. They rattled as she stocked them on the shelf under the counter. “If they’d asked me, it would have been standard from the start, but what do I know? I’ve only been doing this kind of work for decades, on more planets than I care to count.”

“Sounds exciting,” I said as she finished stocking. “I haven’t been out here all that long by comparison, but there’s always something new to see.” A glance around the shop took in rows of alien technology, a Heatseeker with scales painted silver, and one of those centipede-like people whose species name I didn’t remember. I was pretty sure they were looking at a jetpack display.

“Oh sure, plenty of weirdos out here,” the woman said easily, ripping tape off the box and flattening it. “Though it’s easy to tip over from marveling at the wonders to feeling the kind of intense homesickness that you get when you’re light years away from home.”

“I suppose so.” I’d been pretty lucky on that front, since my alien coworkers were friendly sorts who made me feel welcome. But there were times when the sheer amount of empty space between me and Earth was a little too much to think about.

“You’ve got to find ways to remind yourself of where you come from, and take pride in it,” the older woman said with a pointed finger, like a grandparent giving career advice. “Recreate bits of home while you’re far from it.”

I thought back to the potted plants and sun lamp in my quarters, kept high enough that the cat couldn’t chew on them. “I like to think I do that,” I said. “Do you have a preferred method? Classic Earth songs, googly eyes stuck in funny places?”

She barked a laugh. “Ha! Nothing I’d admit to. But I’ll show you my current favorite touchstone to humanity.” She dug in a pocket.

I stepped closer, curious, as she pulled out something palm-sized. She rested her elbows on the counter and held it up, framed by splayed fingers with appropriate drama.

It was a rock, smooth and shiny like it had been polished by a river and then by a thick layer of varnish, and it was covered in minuscule handprints. All in earthtones, like a cave painting reduced to pocket size: some in silhouettes like tiny hands had pressed mud or ash against the cave wall, and others shadowed by color like the prehistoric artist had chewed charcoal and spat it carefully around their fingers.

(I’d done that in school one day, with one of the cool teachers, who taught us the basics of humanity’s oldest style of airbrushing. It was incredibly messy and trickier than I’d expected. It gave me renewed respect for the artists from eons ago whose artwork had survived into modern times.)

And this was that same thing, made small enough to carry around the galaxy, a tiny reminder of home. “That’s fantastic,” I breathed.

“Isn’t it?” she asked, rubbing at the shine. “I got it from a traveling artist awhile back. If I was in a different line of work, I’d sell clothes with this pattern on them. It’s the kind of thing that makes other Earthlings smile.” She stood up and put it back in her pocket with a wink. “Not like googly eyes, but still good.”

“Yes, still good!” I agreed, smiling. I would have liked to talk more about it, maybe find out where that traveling artist had gone, but Mimi was wrapping up his conversation. A door opened to admit a trio of Heatseekers carrying a huge cylinder that was probably destined for somewhere in the guts of our ship.

“I’ll get the tie-down straps,” said the woman, rummaging under a different section of counter.

“Thanks,” I said, though I don’t think she heard me. The air was full of talk and the sound of clawed feet on concrete. I hurried to take up a position by the controls of the hoversled, making sure it stayed locked in place.

The team worked quickly, and in no time they had it strapped down well enough that it wouldn’t budge even if the gravity cut out completely. (Which had better not happen; I’d had more than enough of that kind of nonsense at the last station.)

Mimi processed the payment, tapping a screen with one tentacle tip and thanking the employees for having this whatsit in stock. I got the impression that it wasn’t the one he’d actually come to get, but it was better in some way or other.

“Thanks again!” I said as we tugged the sled toward the door. I waved at the other human and she waved back, two hands signaling kinship briefly across the room. Then she took her flattened box into the back and I stepped out into the artificial sunlight, looking for signs leading back to the spaceport.

The gravity behaved, and the ramps were no trouble. Blip and Blop were there to help unload the thing. I asked Mimi if he wanted three people to maneuver it into wherever it went, or if I should go put the hoversled away.

He was busy climbing inside of the cylinder with a flashlight, for whatever reason. “Nah, not enough space for everybody,” his gravelly voice echoed. “Let me just — really? Another one?” A faint squeak sounded like he was rubbing a tentacle against the side.

“What is it?” I asked, bending to look inside. Blip and Blop crowded behind me, a jumble of curious muscles and silks.

Mimi grumbled, “This is the third engine part that I’ve gotten with these annoying marks. All from different sources, too. If I ever find out which finger-having species is doing it, we are going to have words.”

Deep inside the cylinder, in a spot that likely would never have been seen by anyone but an agile mechanic, was a patch of handprints. Mimi had already smeared the ones made in grease, but the others looked like they might have been paint. All in earthtones. A cave painting in the depths of a spaceship.

Blip and Blop chorused, “Not it.”

I bit my lip to hide a smile. “It’s a mystery.”

~~~

Inspired by this excellent artwork by @letmeinimafairy! It deserved at least one story, if not several.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[valjeancrazylover2]

Javert's Inspirations

So, neither option won that poll, so I'm making this post first. This is probably going to be me ranting more about Javerts I like than actually talking about my own Javert.

The characterisations of other characters have been taken from either one primary source, musical actor, or my own personal take. For example, Cosette is mainly inspired by the 1982 film, but has some influence from musical actresses such as Beatrice Penny-Touré.

Exeptions to this is the versions of the characters post-barricade, as from there is where my story mainly diverges, as most Javert & Valjean Live AUs do. Most of that is my own interpretation, since they are no longer in "normal" circumstances.

As such, Javert has been very fun to work on, because there have been many different characterisations that I find VERY entertaining. They all seem to lean into one aspect of his character more than the others, which makes him... strangely versatile, for such a rigid character?

So... what does this mean for my favourite baldie?

-

Let's start with the guy who started it all, and my blog icon: Todd Alan Johnson. There will be several musical Javerts listed here, but nobody was doing it like TAJavert. I blame him in part for getting me into Les Mis, as I had been a fan of TAJ for a while, when I stumbled across him in 2021 in Little Shop of Horrors as Orin Scrivello (my favourite character - can you tell I like villains). After being introduced to Les Mis through the work experience I was doing in Feb 2024, i revisited TAJ, finding out he had in fact played Javert - first in the third national US tour, and a few other times in smaller productions.

Thats when I found the pictures from Surflight's 2013 production.

And thus Chauvert was cemented in the brain. simply couldnt have it any other way. he just HAD to be bald. Because of this, and at the time I began designing him I didn't know anybody else who played Javert (this would later be changed when I saw stewart clarke live, but nothing really changed after that except for the javert bug eye truth to be solidified)

I really wish there was more footage of this production past these photos, because I NEED more of his bald head as Javert. And look at those sideburns! They're all-natural! Plus, i thought his face was a good fit in general for Javert. It's less obvious with his sideburns, but he's got that big jaw, talks with his bottom teeth showing, intense eyebrows, big buggy eyes when he wants them to be.

Pic from him as Sweeney Todd. My Javert's face is just a heavily cariacaturised version of his.

Additionally, I'm sure you're all familiar with jadenvargen/melancholyarchivist's art. I was a fan before, so finding out there was les mis art too was huge. My Javert was always a bit on the larger side, but that one drawing with Javert and Valjean labelled something like "tremendously large man" and "bigger even huger man" or whatever, cant find the piece right now. anyway that definitely confirmed for me that they were BOTH gonna be built and fat, rather than the lanky javert that I see most people draw.

So, that was the foundation.

From here I'm not really sure in what order inspirations came, but next was probably Anthony Perkins in LM1978, because you just dont get more diva that that. We all know how much of a drama queen Javert is, and in fact Perkins was so good at this that the first thing I did after watching this film was go downstairs and ask my mother if Perkins was gay (to which she replied "Oh, absolutely flaming")

My inspiration for Javert usually comes from small, inconsequential little actions or demeanour that catch my eye... Perkins had plenty, as well as a ring on his finger, which I always forget to draw, but my Javert is supposed to have.

Here's a select few bits I like of his, that have directly influenced my Javert. There's probably more, but I can't remember off the top of my head.

1) the walk. 2) the way he hold's the cane??

3) this whole scene, but specifically the there is no monsieur in this room! there is only a scoundrel! line. 4) the way he reacts to finding out valjean is still alive. VERY similar to how it goes down in my canon, just in a different setting/scenario.

outside of 1978, there havent really been any non-musical adaptation Javerts that have particularly stood out to me. I havent watched 1998 but he doesnt look like he'd be like my Javert, and 1982 despite being my favourite adaptation ... did not have the most memorable Javert.

Even in the radio dramas, which i love to death, don't really have much influence over my Javert, since I already have a very clear idea in my head of his speech, and most inspiration comes from visuals. the CBS radio drama probably comes the closest to the way he speaks, though. (his voiceclaims are either roger allam, todd alan johnson, or some random french guy with a really deep voice who came up on my instagram feed once. yes, I'm serious, my javert sounds like that.)

My javert is not exactly expressive, or outwardly "sassy", per se? I think he's more subtly camp, perhaps with the way he stands sometimes. Don't worry, he's still the absolute drama queen he is in the brick, with "would you like my hat?" and all, but he delivers it in a much more flat way. that's why I don't exactly look at the way perkins delivers "monsieur, monsieur le inspector now!" for my javert. yes, he'd say that, but with a little less visible sass, if that makes sense.

Pre-seine, he's expressive in his own way. whenever he loses control a little he's prone to getting visibly angry; distressed (see: losing valjean when chasing him through paris); when you can see him setting his jaw with a visible vein in his head, short-tempered and curt; or that sort of sinister glee with his "bark" of a laugh or patronising sneer. But other than that... you've gotta hear it in his voice. Sorry to all the cuntvert fans out there, my Javert tries to keep it professional when he can, but he's still trying to out-diva everyone at any given opportunity!

So we return to musical Javerts, then.

I've seen a few, so it's hard to gauge who's had an actual effect and who hasn't. There are a few I do know for a fact I have taken little bits from:

Terrence Mann is familiar to everyone I'm sure. sass-central, which contradicts the above paragraph, but he does it in a wonderfully weird and kind of menacing way which i LOVE. My javert leans more into that menacing side of things. He's always JUST in the shadows, just so that you might not notice him, but if you were wary of authority, you'd see him lurking. his stature, you might think would make him a bit lumbering, but he's shockingly agile and snakelike. Think of a tiger. (oh yeah, shere khan from the jungle book is another inspiration i guess, but I won't include him here - we know.) Terrence Mann is delightfully snide and insane and I love it.

Gifs of small bits of his performance I like.

And his soliloquy? oof.. believably absolutely losing his mind.

The Javert who has probably influenced mine the most is Hartwig Rudolz, from the german Duisburg production in the 90s. He's commanding, he's dignified and haughty, he's even got the sinister chipperness about him from time to time (he's chummy with Madeleine in the cart scene, even laughing and smiling with him. While not really my Javert, it's worth a mention. Also does a condescending chuckle when Thenardier asks to be let go before Stars.)

More gifs of bits I like!

Bonus gif, cus that wig is loooong!

Three more would be Nic Greenshields, Jordan Simon Pollard and Michael Ball. They are all great Javerts (which might be a hot take, I'm not sure if ballvert is popular but I've been a fan of his for 5 years so maybe i'm biased.) I can't say TOO much on Nic and Michael acting-wise, because Michael Ball has only been in the arena tours, and the footage ive seen of Nic Greenshields is not the GREATEST quality - but they all have an air of haughty dignity about them, which obviously i try to give my Javert.

Jordan I've had the pleasure of seeing in person, twice, as well as meeting the guy. He's been the understudy for a while. He takes quite an expressive approach to Javert, using mainly his eyebrows, which i definitely think makes up most of my Javert's expressiveness. He really knows how to use his face to act - seriously, I can barely believe it's the same guy ! He usually has quite a furrowed brow, with his chin jutting out a little, standing with his chest puffed out. He's 6'3, and quite broad-chested (seeing as he works out) so you can imagine what kind of a presence that creates.

Both Nic and Jordan, being in the same production (Jordan was Nic's u/s in the UK tour, is now Stewart Clarke's on the West End) had this moment, but after Thenardier asks to be let go, on "it was me what told you so!", they turn and step forward so that Javert is basically chest-to-face with Thenardier (and the guy playing him at the time was like, a foot shorter than the both of them). I liked that a lot. Absolutely something my Javert is doing. He's got the height and the tits for it, there's no way he isn't, cmon

Also, both Nic and Michael also have the benefit of being broader than most Javerts, Nic especially, as he stands at a whopping 6'6, so he's a SERIOUS presence onstage. My javert is around that margin at 6'6-6'7, so that checks.

I know a lot of people say Ballvert is "too cute" or whatever, and i'd totally agree as a michael ball fan, but if you ignore the fact it's Michael Ball, i think he seems a bit more "unsuspectingly cruel" than outwardly intimidating. While this doesn't exactly reflect my Javert, he DOES have some good bits. From my notes when I saw him in the arena tour:

the wway he takes off his gloves in the confrontation was not only kinda sexy (sorry) but a bit foreboding. he has a nice amount of sass, which of course is always appreciated. his general attitude in Stars, too, like he's truly earnest, and someone mentioned how he sings it like a love song - yuuup. His soliloquy is also amazing, the way he portrays Javert as being just so scared of what's happening, but lapsing into anger... ouuh.

I have not fully planned out my Javert's suicide (attempt) yet, how he would be responding, but I've been leaning into the more fearful approach. I mean, his entire worldview has been shattered like that, the entire structure of which he built his life on has just crumbled in front of him, i'd be frightened too.

Anyway, random detail - if you were interested in the origin of Javert's scar, like, from a meta perspective:

Adam Robert Lewis, of course, with his cool nose scar.

My javert had a scar anyway, just a small cut on the lip, probably from a nasty hit to the face which never quite healed right and scarred, but something about ARL's scar really worked... so the scar extended a few inches up the face. It's changed places since then, originally going from the lip to the nose, then from the lip to below the eye, but now it's branched off to both. I still don't have a specific origin for the scar in canon, so you can make one up yourself.

Linking to that scar, and also linking back to Michael Ball - i mistook a shadow on his eye for a burst blood vessel, and thought it would be an interesting look for my Javert. I'm a sucker for temporary details (Javert's moustache post-msurm, for one), so I've given him a bad eye for early M-sur-M. Very recent development.

HONORABLE JAVERT MENTIONS, THAT INSPIRED ME SLIGHTLY OR CEMENTED A SPECIFIC IDEA:

Stewart Clarke. He was the first I physically SAW, and also the one I've seen the most, since he's the current West End Javert. Very good javert, unsettling with those eyeballs, very spitty, which I totally forgot to mention is also an integral part to my Javert. So, thanks Stew! His soliloquy is also just out-of-this-world, seriously. Seek out a recent audio of his if you haven't heard him. He's nuts.

Jeremy Secomb. Sir Eyeballs Supreme. If you want a Javert with an unsettling stare, he's your guy. And he's currently the Bishop in the arena tour! What a way to convince Valjean to be a good guy, just staring him down with your evil fucking peepers. When partnered with Peter Lockyer, they form THE valvert duo, they kissed on video in costume, so many cute photos of them together, and they LOOK the parts. Jeremy looking like those toys you sqeeze and their eyes pop out vs Peter's soft face and kind smile like a golden retriever or something. Seriously perfect.

Nick Rehberger. Current US Javert. Great at really minor acting choices, sassy man apocalypse. Very dignified. VERY handsome. Bit gay. Amazing voice. What more could you want?

Roger Allam. Now, I'm getting a bit ahead of myself here. I've already mentioned he's one of the 3 people I cycle through for my Javert's voiceclaim, and there's like NO (publically available) footage of him. I am planning on viewing the footage they do have, but that's some time in the future. The OLCR is my personal listening choice when I'm listening to the musical soundtrack, so Allam is kind of burned into my brain. I know it probably sounds crazy but the way his voice sounds really influenced the way I have Javert physically speak, with his heavy jaw. Anything about his specific physicality is completely imagined - but hopefully not for long.

Chris Murray. Another german Javert I really like, from a 2007 nonrep production. If you like unhinged Javerts with eyeballs for days, he's your man. He's also just greatly unsettling. He almost made the cut with gifs, but unfortunately Terrence Mann won out. He was just a little TOO chipper about things. But i do love how his amiability is very obviously a ruse, with the way he holds a stiff smile in The Robbery on "But where's the gentleman gone / And why on Earth did he run?" (or, the German lyrics, whatever. It's that part of the song.)

Preston Truman Boyd. One part only. He's the reason I gave Javert a moustache and weird little chin beard thing post-msurm. I just thought that was important enough to get a mention, other than that I haven't really seen much of him enough to say.

ANYWAY, that's about it !!

There's probably more i've missed, but it's 5.30am right now, and I'm flagging. Plus, the post is long enough as is.

If you've read this far, I gotta know - who's your favourite Javert, or at least top 5? Have they influenced the way you view Javert in any way?

If you're like me and like taking tidbits from different sources, what are yours? Im curious to know !!! PLEASE tell me!!!!!!

Much love to my favourite bald freak <3

[octuscle]

Peter's body was his temple. He worked hard to make every woman wet when she saw him and every man freeze in awe when Peter flexed his muscles. And his job as a construction worker gave him plenty of opportunities to do so. Although he actually only used the construction site as an extended training ground for posing, and although he spent every free minute in the gym, he had a successful career, was popular with all his colleagues and had nothing to complain about. And yet sometimes he envied his colleagues who went out for a beer after work and stuffed themselves with fast food during their lunch break, while Peter drank gallons of water and otherwise ate only raw meat and salad without dressing.

Peter started his Friday afternoon with a round on the stationary bike while surfing Instagram. “Fancy a weekend of boozing and having fun without regrets?” The ad on Instagram struck Peter like a bolt of lightning. A guy with a paunch was standing at a bar with friends, his T-shirt wet from the beer flowing out of the corners of his mouth as he drank. Shit, yes, Peter used to fancy that. He really wanted to. He clicked on the account. Pictures of fat guys in bars, bowling, in fast food restaurants. Peter actually found that disgusting. A real man shouldn't have an ounce of fat on his body. But really letting himself go for once? Shit, that would be awesome! “Pling” Peter had received a message. From the owner of the account. “Peter, don't dream, just enjoy! How cool would it be to play a round of darts tonight and stuff yourself with chips and beer!” What the hell?!?!!?! How did the guy get his name and address. He hadn't liked anything or anything. Still, the guy had struck a chord with him. “Tell me more,” he replied. “Meet me at the diner, Lincoln Ave. on the corner of 2nd Street. 20 minutes.” Peter was harder than he'd ever been in his life. A weekend of fun. What could possibly happen?

Peter stopped the training. Chuck at reception looked questioningly as he left the gym after just half an hour of training. "Forgot a private appointment!" Peter called apologetically over his shoulder and held his sports bag protectively in front of his boner. Shit, he was really horny at the idea of letting all discipline go for once. The diner was a pretty run-down place. It reeked of old chip grease and cheap cleaning fluids. No wonder there were hardly any customers. Except for one. It was clear that this had to be his contact person. A fat, unkempt pig! With a portion of burger and chips in front of him.

Naked, flabby torso. shit, yes, that's exactly how Peter wanted to spend his weekend. He wanted it so much. No idea where this untamable desire came from. “Hi, call me Zac,” the guy said with his mouth full, spitting chunks of his burger around. “And you want to have fun for a weekend? Do everything you usually deny yourself?” Peter, who couldn't normally complain about a lack of self-confidence, nodded silently with a dry mouth. “Okay, I'll send you a link. Just accept it, tick both terms and conditions and off you go.” Zac wiped the remnants of food from the corners of his mouth with his forearm. Peter's cell phone vibrated. He opened the link. He ticked the box. He clicked on okay. He looked up. He froze.

Something else mingled with the smell of chip fat and cleaning agents. The smell of pure masculinity. Of fresh sweat. Of well-worn sneakers. It smelled like Peter smelled. He no longer noticed the smell on himself. But the man who was suddenly sitting in front of him exuded this smell in masses! Peter felt his hard-on. But his boner was… Smaller! Much smaller! And he was no longer horny at the idea of spending an excessive weekend. He was horny because of the guy in front of him. Shit, what Peter would give if he fucked him now…!

“Dude, thanks a lot! I thought I'd never find another idiot who wanted to swap muscle for fat.” Zac tensed his biceps. “So, makes you horny, doesn't it? Do you want me to fuck you? Not a chance, Piggy! But you can suck me off if you want.” Peter was in a trance. He didn't understand what Zac was saying. Why did he call him Piggy? Peter was still as muscular as ever. But fuck, he had to suck that cock. The place was still almost empty. Peter crawled under the table. There were puddles of chips and Coke on the floor. Zac pulled his boner out of his gray sweat pants. And Peter sucked greedily. The sweat on his balls and cock was pure musk. Yes, it was the perfect start to the weekend. He had never blown a man before. But he knew damn well how to do it. Zac groaned. A large precum stain formed in Peter's pants. And shortly after Zac had squirted his load in Peter's face, Peter squirted too. He had greedily swallowed Zac's load. A little bit still dripped onto his shirt. But there was still more on his shirt than in his pants. Peter was a wanker. Three or four times a day. His balls never had a chance to fill up enough to produce a load like Zac. “Good Piggy!” said Zac, ”Here, this milkshake is your reward, I don't drink that shit anymore.” And without another word, Zac got up and left the diner.

Peter was hungry. Hugely hungry. He didn't care about the stains on his pants and shirt. In fact, they had already dried up. There were a number of similar dried stains. Peter stood at the counter. Three bacon cheeseburgers, two large portions of chips with nacho sauce and a large Coke. That should be enough. For a start. The waitress asked if he wanted an ice cream for dessert. Peter asked for a large portion. An hour and three more burgers later, Peter got up. He stroked his stomach. He vaguely remembered the washboard stomach he had once had. A roll of flab bulged out from between his shirt and trousers. He wiped his ketchup-smeared hands on his greasy trousers. It was almost 5:00 pm. Time to get ready for bowling night with the boys. “Pete's Handyman Service” was written on his pickup truck. It had been a good year since he had started his own business. About the same time he'd said goodbye to the gym. Pete made his way home. Showering before bowling would be silly now, he'd be sweating like a pig again. But he put on a fresh pair of shorts and a fresh T-shirt. And grabbed the bag with his lucky ball and shoes. A glance in the mirror. Yes, he looked good. He was a real guy. Not an effeminate model.

It was around 9 p.m. when Pete threw his last ball. He was finished! It had been a busy week and he'd rarely had as much exercise as he'd had in the last three hours. For the rest of the evening, he was content to talk football with the boys, drink beer and stuff his face with nachos. And waiting for Mike to finish at the bar. Because then he would shag Pete. Mike was a really handsome guy. Actually straight, of course. But for some reason, which Pete was grateful for, he loved fucking Pete's fat ass. Pete didn't fight back! By the time he was lying in bed in his trailer at 02:00, his transformation was complete. It had been ten years since he had changed his life. Since then, he had been living on fast food and beer. He loved his cigars and chewing tobacco. Shit, yes, he was panting like a locomotive after only 200 meters on foot and he could only see his cock under his belly in the mirror. But shit, he had fun in life. His boys and he went bowling, sometimes they went fishing or football (Pete more in the passive observer position). And someone who loved to fuck his flabby ass could always be found. There were a surprising number of fans of his on Instagram and Gaydar. Tomorrow he would do the bookkeeping on the fucking computer. In the past, he'd had someone to take care of that stuff. But business was only so-so… So he had to struggle through it himself…

There was an e-mail in his inbox, sent at around 4 p.m. on Friday. Some shit with terms and conditions that he was supposed to have accepted. Probably some kind of crazy spam. He had a message from Zac on Insta. Phew, how long had it been since he'd been in contact with him? Must have been about ten years. “Piggy, I have to cancel our date on Sunday night. I don't feel like living without this body anymore. Have fun, you fat pig!” Probably spam again. Piggy, er Pete, couldn't remember a date for Sunday night.

Inspiration by @billowingpillowboy

Pics by @ki-kink

[earthlyangelbby]

More than cookies

Summary: Teaching your crush Eddie to bake cookies turns into something sweeter than anticipated. Could this be the start of something more?

Cw: Fluffy fluff flufferson just a little kissing

2.5k Words

Every week, you bring chocolate chip cookies to the group hangout—a tradition since you started tagging along with Robin about a year ago. Whether it’s a movie night, board games, D&D, or some seasonal get-together, the hangouts usually take place at Eddie’s apartment. Without roommates, his place is the perfect hosting spot.

From the very first evening, you felt welcomed. Meeting Eddie, Nancy, Steve, and Gareth was intimidating at first, but thanks to Robin, they already knew a lot about you. That left you free to mostly observe and get to know them. Eddie’s apartment, especially his cozy living room, quickly became a comfort. With a big couch, a loveseat, beanbag chairs, and plenty of pillows and blankets for movie nights, it was hard not to feel at ease.

You started noticing Eddie more after the first horror movie night. He sat next to you on the couch, and as the scares made you jump and squeal, he instinctively leaned in to check on you. “All good, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

You whispered back with a shy smile, “I’m having fun, just jumpy.”

He smiled and nodded, and from then on, he made a habit of chuckling at your reactions. When you’d jump particularly hard, he’d lean over with a playful grin and say, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” nudging your shoulder or giving your knee a reassuring squeeze.

Game nights brought more of Eddie’s playful side. He’d jokingly target you, tracking your moves in Monopoly and teasing you about your strategy. “Oh, come on, you love my strategy,” he’d say, nudging your game piece with his. Every casual brush of his arm against yours, every moment he leaned in close, sent your heart racing in ways you couldn’t ignore.

You started arriving early to hangouts, initially because of your type-A personality, but lately, it was just an excuse to get a few moments alone with Eddie. You’d always found him attractive—his big smile, warm brown eyes, and even the way he ate cookies made your heart flutter. To call it a crush would be an understatement.

The way he looked at you and his comments about your cookies had started to feel less polite and more teasing. Every week, Eddie would eat your cookies with a grin that melted you, and every week, he’d say something that left your cheeks burning:

• "If this is what you bring every week, I’m counting the days to the next hangout."

• "Keep this up, and I’ll have to make you my official cookie supplier."

• "I should start bringing my own container to take some home."

• "Sweetheart, I might have to marry you. I can’t live without these."

• "The way you make these cookies makes me curious about what else you’re great at."

Most of his comments were playful, but “what else you’re great at” stuck in your head. What did he mean by that? Whatever it was, you wanted to know. So, you gathered your nerves and invited him to your house—to bake, of course.

 

Eddie made time to come over and learn, which shouldn’t have been a big deal—but it made you nervous. He was about to see your home, a cozy little townhouse you’d inherited from your grandma. Everything was perfectly neat, mostly because you couldn’t bring yourself to change her charming, floral-inspired decor.

You took a deep breath as you prepped the kitchen, a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through you. It was just going to be the two of you, and as the clock ticked closer to his arrival, your mind replayed every flirty exchange. The way Eddie smiled at you, that boyish grin lighting up his face as he savored your cookies, always made your cheeks flush.

He had a way of making you feel like a giddy teenager, especially with all the little moments during hangouts—his teasing during games, the lingering looks during movies, and the way he always gravitated toward you when you arrived early. Eddie was curious about you in a way that felt genuine, asking about your week and slipping in subtle, almost shy questions about whether you were seeing anyone.

Then there were the casual touches: a light brush of his arm, a nudge during a game, or his hand grazing yours while passing something. Normally, those things would have made you uncomfortable, but when it was Eddie, they left your skin buzzing and your stomach full of butterflies.

Eddie was in his van, fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel as soft music played in the background. His mind raced as he stared at the road ahead. Okay, Munson, don’t screw this up. She’s a friend—a really good friend. Everyone likes her. Robin says she’s into you. And yeah, she laughs at all your dumb jokes, but… what if this is just about cookies?

He sighed, gripping the wheel tighter. God, she’s so much more than that. Sweet and funny, always bringing those cookies every week. And the way she looks when she smiles… like she doesn’t even know how beautiful she is. How does someone as good as her actually exist? She’s smart, kind, and somehow looks as good as she is. That’s rare. Like lightning-strike rare.

His heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the thought of her. And that laugh... it’s like the best sound in the world. She always laughs when I flirt with her. That’s a good sign, right? Robin said it was. Robin wouldn’t lie about that. Would she?

Eddie’s van pulled into the driveway, and he stared at the little house in front of him. It was sweet and inviting, with blue trim and curtains that reminded him of something out of a storybook. Of course, her house would look like this. Cute, warm, and perfect—just like her.

He flipped down the visor and glanced at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, Munson. Be cool. Be cool. Don’t say anything stupid. Just... bake some cookies and don’t blow it.”

Grabbing the milk and the bowl he’d brought along, Eddie stepped out of the van, straightened his jacket, and made his way to the front door. As he walked up the little path, he couldn’t help but smile. Cookies or not, I’m about to spend the afternoon with the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. That’s enough.

He reached the door, took a deep breath, and knocked, feeling his heart pound in anticipation.

Finally, you heard a knock at the door. You smoothed down your apron, fixed your hair, took a moment to compose yourself, and swung the door open with a bright smile. There he was, looking even cuter than usual, holding a bowl in one hand and a half gallon of milk in the other.

“Ready to make me a cookie making master?” he said, his eyes sparkling.

You laughed nervously, “Cookie master? More like a cookie apprentice!”

He stepped inside and looked around. “Wow, this place is.. cute lots more flowers than I imagined.”

“How often are you imagining my house?” you teased, motioning for him to take a seat at the counter. 

“Just on the whole drive over here,” Eddie laughed.

You pulled out the recipe, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than the butterflies in your stomach. “Alright, let’s get started. First, you’ll want to cream the butter and sugars together.”

As you began to demonstrate, you caught him watching you intently. Both his smile and the way he leaned closer made it hard to concentrate. “See? Just like this,” you said, your cheeks warming as he leaned in even more.

“Can I try?” he asked, and you nodded, passing him the wooden spoon. He took over mixing, but not without stealing glances at you. You tried to make your hands look busy, but gave up and stood with your hands behind your back.

“So, what else do you like to make when you’re not saving my sweet tooth?” Eddie asked, looking over at you with genuine curiosity.

“I, um… I enjoy trying new recipes. It’s sort of my thing.” You tried to sound cool, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to think straight.

“Yeah?” He paused, looking serious for a moment. “What do you do when you’re not busy being an amazing cookie supplier?”

“Mostly school,” you replied softly, heart pounding. “And daydream about cute guys who eat my cookies.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, and for a moment, you panicked, realizing what you had just let slip. But a playful smirk appeared on his lips. “Oh really? I’d love to hear more about this ‘cute guy’ you’re daydreaming about.”

You could practically feel the blush creeping up your neck. “Well, he’s sweet, funny, and loves cookies just as much as I do.”

“Lucky guy,” he said, his voice dropping a bit, making your heart race. “I bet he treats you well, huh?”

Before you could respond, you set out the chocolate chips. “Okay, now for the fun part! Let’s add these in.” 

He watched as you poured the chocolate chips into the bowl and then placed a few pieces right next to you on the counter. “I think you need to taste test those,” he said with a wink.

You picked one up and popped it into your mouth, then offered another to him with a grin. “Here, you try! They are the secret to making the cookies perfect.” 

He hesitated for a moment and then took the piece from your fingers, his gaze lingering on yours as he chewed. “Mm so sweet, just like you,” he said.

Your heart skipped a beat, and the kitchen suddenly felt a little smaller. You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the moment hang between you like a sweet, unspoken confession. “Okay, let’s get back to business!” you said quickly, trying to sidestep the heat in your cheeks.

As you prepared to mix the flour and baking soda, you grinned and said, “But wait, there’s a secret ingredient that takes these cookies to the next level!” You reached for a dark chocolate bar and began chopping it into small pieces.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “What’s this? More chocolate?”

You nodded, excitement bubbling up. “Yep! Chopped dark chocolate adds a rich depth and makes them extra special. Just wait until you taste them!”

“Nice! I’m all in for extra chocolate,” he said, looking at you with that charming smile again. The way he leaned over the counter to watch you closely made your heart race even more.

As you folded the chopped chocolate into the batter, Eddie's eyes never left you, and the air felt thick as you both worked side by side. You stirred the mixture, stealing glances at him as he concentrated on the process, a slight frown of focus on his lips that made him even more endearing. 

You handed Eddie a spoon and set the baking sheet in front of him. "Alright, cookie apprentice, now we scoop," you said with a grin.

He raised an eyebrow. “This is the big moment, huh? All my training has led to this.”

“Exactly,” you teased. “No pressure, but these scoops determine the success of the entire batch.”

Eddie scooped a dollop of dough onto the sheet and tilted his head. “How’s that for a first try?”

You leaned closer to inspect it, your shoulder brushing his. “Hmm, a little uneven, but not bad. Let me show you the pro technique.”

Grabbing your own spoon, you showed the perfect scoop. “See? Smooth edges, uniform size. It’s an art, really.”

He smirked, nudging your shoulder lightly. “So you’re saying I should leave the scooping to you?”

“Not at all!” you shot back, laughing. “You just need practice. Go ahead—try again.”

As he worked on his second scoop, Eddie suddenly dipped his spoon back into the dough and held it out toward you. “Taste test?”

You rolled your eyes but leaned in, taking a small bite off the spoon. “Okay, fine. It’s perfect,” you admitted, licking a bit of dough off your lip.

Eddie’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, a playful glint in his eye. “Told you I’d make a great apprentice,” he said, his voice soft but teasing.

Soon, the baking sheet was full, and you slid it into the preheated oven. “Alright, 12 minutes until cookie perfection,” you announced, brushing your hands together.

Eddie leaned back against the counter, watching you with that familiar lazy grin. “So what do we do while we wait? Dance? Play 20 Questions? Or just stare at each other awkwardly?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m voting for not staring awkwardly. How about we clean up a bit?”

As the two of you moved around the kitchen, wiping down counters and washing bowls, the energy between you shifted. The usual teasing felt softer, more intentional. Every brush of his hand against yours, every glance he stole—it all felt charged.

Finally, as you were drying your hands, Eddie stepped closer, his expression unusually serious. “You know,” he began, his voice low, “I’ve been waiting for this.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. “For what? Cookies?” you teased nervously.

He shook his head, his lips twitching into a small smile. “No, not cookies. This. Just... being alone with you. I’ve been waiting forever to spend real time with a really pretty girl like you.”

Your breath caught at his words, your cheeks heating. “You really mean that?”

“Yeah,” he said softly, his gaze steady. “I don’t think I’ve made it a secret how much I like you. But this—being here, just us—is different. Better.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and before you could overthink it, you said, “I’m glad you’re here, Eddie. I’ve been wanting this too.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then Eddie leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I... can I kiss you?”

Your heart raced, but you nodded, a shy smile spreading across your face. “Yes.”

Eddie's eyes dart from your lips to your eyes then back to your lips and he leans in, his lips brushing yours softly at first, leaving three short burst kisses on your lips. As if he was making sure this was real. He looked at you almost as if he wanted reassurance. You smiled up at him and leaned in. As your lips meld together again, you feel the soft brush of his tongue seeking entry, gently dancing against yours. The sweetness of the chocolate bursts forth as you taste it, mingling with the warmth of his breath. His tongue explores with a mix of urgency and tenderness, igniting a thrilling sensation that sends jolts of electricity through you. The way he tugs you closer only heightens the moment, making each flick and caress feel uniquely intimate. 

The comforting scent of his leather jacket envelops you, grounding you in the heat of the moment. As your tongues intertwine, it creates a beautiful rhythm, an unspoken connection that deepens with every kiss, leaving you breathless and craving more.

Just then, the oven timer dinged, breaking the moment. You both laughed, the sound cutting through the tension like a breath of fresh air.

“Perfect timing,” Eddie said, stepping back but keeping his hand on your waist.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were grinning like teenagers. “You’re really good at that,” you murmured, unable to stop smiling.

Eddie chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “So are you, sweetheart.” You placed your oven mitts on. “Let’s see if these cookies live up to the kiss.” Eddie looked at the tray with a big smile.

“They’d better,” you teased, opening the oven and pulling out the tray. The cookies were golden brown, the chocolate chips melted just enough to glisten.

Eddie grabbed a spatula and carefully transferred a cookie to a plate. “Taste test round two?” he asked, breaking off a piece and holding it out to you.

You took a bite, savoring the gooey chocolate and buttery dough. “Okay, these are pretty amazing,” you admitted.

Eddie took a bite of his own, nodding in agreement. “Not bad for an apprentice, huh?”

“Not bad at all, cookie master,” your smile soft as you met his gaze.

Eddie leaned on the counter. "You know, I’m not even mad if I never get a cookie again, as long as I get to keep kissing you.” 

Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you thought! :^)

[obsessioncollector]

Okay gather round for storytime. When I was a kid a boy used to make fun of me for "looking Jewish." I am not Jewish and I'm pretty sure he always knew that. It would be absurd for me to characterize myself as a victim of antisemitism or antisemitic bullying, or say that I was discriminated against, because I'm not actually Jewish. And because I'm not actually Jewish, his taunting had absolutely no psychological impact on me—I knew he intended it to be insulting, but little me didn't understand why it was supposed to be a bad thing, because I was very oblivious to the history of antisemitism (to the extent that I have trouble imagining an actually Jewish child would be). And I had none of the underlying insecurities I might have had if I were actually a Jewish kid growing up as a minority. It completely bounced off me. Other teasing and insults I experienced as a child stuck with me, but I only remember this because it seemed weird and random, not because it had any actual power.

I think about this often when people try to argue that they've experienced transmisogyny, for example, because they've been confused for a trans woman. On both a material and psychological level, being discriminated against, rejected, or assaulted for something you actually are is a very different experience than for something you aren't. Your physical safety isn't as jeopardized, because you have the option of retreating to "but I'm not actually like them." And psychologically, you don't sustain the same damage, because there's no kernel of real insecurity or vulnerability that the person is getting at (you may have plenty of real insecurities or vulnerabilities, but not the one they're attacking you for.)

[elysiaheaven2]

A poem to my childhood fort....(part 1) Ronin x G.n reader

Words:3000

Genre: Angst to fluff, Gift to @sincerelyyourslilly

(Reader is G.N)

Ronin x G.N Reader

All you ever wanted was to be a successful crime writer. Not the next best-seller, not a household name—just someone who could spin a story without that relentless, soul-crushing writer's block creeping in. Every time you opened a blank document, it stared back at you, mocking, empty. And every time, you closed it, frustration bubbling over.

Why was it so hard? You’ve written before. Sure, some of it was cringe fanfiction—okay, a lot of it was cringe fanfiction—but writing used to come so easily. Back then, the words practically bled onto the page. Now, they just... don’t.

You needed inspiration. Something visceral, raw, a spark that could ignite your creative inferno. It wouldn’t come from endless Google searches, that was for sure. Inspiration like that demanded you dig deeper—into the recesses of your heart, into shadows most people were too afraid to explore.

Surely, there was no harm in doing some light research, right? It’s not like you were going to end up on some FBI watchlist just for being curious about murder methods.

Right?

Being a news reporter gave you plenty of access to grim realities. You had an eye for the grotesque, the macabre. You couldn’t help but marvel at the artistry in the work of the city’s most infamous killer. The Butcher, as the media had branded them, was a twisted kind of genius. Their victims—if you could even call them that—were their canvas. Each one a masterpiece of gore and carnage. Fleshed out, literally, in a way that screamed passion and precision.

To the public, it was nauseating. To you?

It was inspiring.

You toyed with the idea of writing about them, a crowbar-wielding serial killer stalking the streets. The thing is...you didn’t know much about crowbars. Did they bash? Bludgeon? Crush? Did it take more than one hit? You needed details, and where better to get them than the internet?

T.com had a certain charm to it. The best (and worst) of humanity hung out there. You figured it was safer than delving into the dark web, so you posted your question there.

asking for a friend hey can anyone with experience killing a person with a crowbar dm me, it's really important thank you.

The post was short, straightforward, and definitely not suspicious. Nothing that would have people side-eyeing you...right? You weren’t that desperate to go digging into the deep web for inspiration. Yet.

You hit “post.”

And then you waited.

It didn’t take long for someone to slide into your DMs.

That DM changed everything.

You met him,

Your muse. Your inspiration. Your… childhood tragedy.

The sender’s username was cryptic, but the link they shared—“killrch8t_b00t.mango”—was even more so. Against your better judgment, you clicked it. What you found was...unexpected. A server. A private chatroom for people like you.

Only, they weren’t writers. They were killers.

At first, you didn’t know it was him. But looking back now, it all makes sense. So, dear writer, here’s what happened:

You were just a simple writer, but you somehow got invited to a serial killer server by a guy who apparently adores crowbars. It didn’t take long for you to realize that this guy? He was the Butcher.

So, naturally, you decided to play along. To “slay,” as they say.

At first, you didn’t realize who you were talking to. The Butcher. The Butcher. You thought you were chatting with some edgy wannabe, someone cosplaying as the city’s most notorious murderer. But as the conversation progressed, it became clear.

It was him.

He was surprisingly...charming. Flirty, even, in a deranged sort of way. The kind of guy who’d make you laugh one second and send shivers down your spine the next.

So, naturally, you decided to play along. To “slay,” as they say. You started by reacting to his roles he reacted with:

😇 Fun ❌ Crowbar 🔪 Sharp Objects 🩸 I love the thrill of the rush 😮 I have this thing called an ego

You figured that maybe if you showed him the right mix of enthusiasm, he’d notice you. The Devil himself would grant you his blessings—or maybe just the motivation you so desperately needed.

After all, all his crimes... they involve a crowbar.

It was almost too easy to talk to him. His messages were a mix of sarcasm, wit, and razor-sharp insight. But there was an edge to everything he said, a challenge beneath the surface. He asked questions that made your pulse quicken, like he was daring you to prove yourself. To impress him.

Then he upped the ante.

He wanted you to kill someone. Not just theoretically, but for real. To send a picture. Proof. He wanted you to baptize yourself in blood—or maybe he just wanted to see how far you’d go to entertain him.

You laughed it off at first. He had to be joking. Right?

But he wasn’t.

The scary part wasn’t that he asked. It was that you didn’t immediately say no.

The conversations grew darker, deeper. Somewhere along the way, he stopped being just “The Butcher” and became a person to you. Someone sad. Lonely, even. Beneath the bravado and the bloodlust, there was something broken about him. And damn it if you weren’t the kind of person who thought you could fix people.

Strangely, you started to feel bad for him. He seemed... sad. Not in a pathetic way, but in a way that made you think: Hey, maybe this edgy maniac has layers. You weren’t dumb enough to think you could “fix” him, but maybe, just maybe, you could understand him.

But the thought still lingered.

You joked about plotting his murder. His reply? He blushed. He actually blushed. The idea of you thinking about him—obsessing over him—clearly thrilled him. It was hard to tell if he was serious or just toying with you. Either way, it felt like flirting.

Was it flirting? It was definitely something.

Everything was fine. Well, as fine as it could be when you were chatting with a notorious killer. He hadn’t turned on you. Not yet.

And then the channel appeared.

“artistic-license.”

The Butcher’s tone shifted the moment it opened. Gone was the playful banter, replaced with something cold and calculating. He knew who you were. Knew more than you’d ever shared.

“You can be my muse,” he said, voice dripping with menace. “As long as you’re willing to be my victim.”

Your blood ran cold.

It had been a game to him, all along. A hunt. And now, you weren’t sure if you were the predator or the prey.

Oh, shit.

Maybe it felt like you were in a chokehold, always watched, unable to escape, because your heart already beat only for the server. It wasn’t just obsession; it was survival. Once you left, it felt like your heart stopped altogether. That’s what kept you tethered, trapped in a conflict with yourself. Afraid of the nightmares. Afraid of him.

Was it the people? Or was it him? The Devil himself, Ronin.

Oh, but you didn’t leave, did you? You stayed. You stayed because every moment away from that server gnawed at you. And even when you closed your eyes, sleep wasn’t an escape. Not from him. Not from the Devil.

The dream was vivid. A whispered laughter danced through your mind, teasing and cold. A crowbar pressed against your neck, its chill seeping into your skin. The man in front of you had a Lucifer’s smile, a grin both wicked and divine. His eyes held a whisper of flame—bright, hot, dangerous. He wasn’t just playing at being the Devil; he embodied it. The Devil himself. Your Devil.

He leaned closer, and his breath was warm against your ear. “Why fight it, darling?” he murmured. “You came here for me. You stayed for me. And you’ll never leave… for me.” His voice was honeyed poison, sweet and lethal.

You tried to step back, but the crowbar pressed harder, pinning you in place. His laughter curled around you, low and dark, like smoke from a fire you couldn’t escape.

“Oh, you’re scared,” he said, and his grin widened. “Good. Fear looks so pretty on you.”

You wanted to scream, to lash out, but you couldn’t. Your body betrayed you, frozen under the weight of his gaze. He tilted his head, studying you with an almost tender curiosity, as if deciding whether to devour you whole or savor you bite by bite.

“You know what I love about you?” he whispered. “Your heart. It beats so fast, so loud, like it’s trying to call me closer. And you know what’s funny? It’s mine. Always has been. You just didn’t realize it yet.”

His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch was soft, almost reverent, but it sent a shiver racing down your spine.

“Don’t look so frightened, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a velvet caress. “You wanted this. You wanted me.”

And then, just as quickly as it began, it ended. The crowbar disappeared. The Devil vanished. You woke with a start, gasping for air, your pulse hammering against your ribs. It was just a dream. Just a stupid, terrifying, beautiful dream.

You woke from a dream, if you could even call it that. A whispered laughter echoed in your ears, chilling and intimate, and the ghost of a crowbar lingered against your neck. The man in front of you—his grin sharp as a blade, his eyes alight with a flicker of Hell itself. He was Lucifer's shadow, Lucifer's whisper—no, not a shadow. The Devil incarnate. The Devil he had to be.

Except… you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t. Not entirely.

You could write. Or you could log in and see what the server was doing. The decision was easy.

You logged in. The server was quiet. No one was online.

Except for him.

Mr. Devil himself.

A notification popped up: Incoming call.

You hesitated, fingers hovering over the mouse. Then, with a resigned sigh, you clicked accept.

The screen flickered, and there he was. Ronin—sharp-eyed and grinning like he knew every secret you’d ever tried to bury. His voice was a low drawl, smooth and intoxicating.

“Hey,” he greeted, leaning closer to the camera as if trying to bridge the digital gap between you.

“Hi,” you managed, your voice more breathless than you intended. “What are you doing up so late?”

His grin widened. “Same could be said for you, darlin’. What’s up? Stayin’ up late for that midnight inspiration?”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. “Why are you doing this?” you finally asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Ronin laughed, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Fucking with writers is my specialty, what can I say?” His gaze pinned you in place, even through the screen. “I told you, darlin’. You come to me, and I give you whatever the fuck you want. Isn’t this your dream? I’m your wish, come true.”

His voice dipped lower, each word a dark caress. “And you’re fucked, ‘cause I know exactly who you are, Y/N.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Did I mention that I got your IP the second you logged onto the server? Yeah, yeah. Internet safety and all that shit. Don’t talk to strangers, right? ‘Cause you never know who you might come across.”

Your breath hitched. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. His grin turned sharper, almost predatory.

“Lost for words?” he teased, his voice laced with mock sympathy. “I know. I’m so fucking charming.”

He leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “Listen up, sweetheart. I’ll be visiting you soon. Crowbar in hand. Unless…” His eyes gleamed with wicked delight. “Unless you find me first. Happy hunting, baby.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving you staring at your reflection in the now-black screen. Your mind raced, heart pounding in your chest.

You were in trouble.

Loving the Devil had been your first mistake. Thinking he might actually love you back was your second. And falling for his corruption, his twisted games—that was your third and most damning sin.

Ronin had known exactly what he was doing when he invited you to his server. He’d seen through your persona, found amusement in your attempts to remain aloof. To him, you were a game, a challenge—and he wanted to win. He always did.

Now, there was only one way out. He’d told you himself: you had to find him first. The question was, could you?

It was 14 February.

It was February 14th. Oh, shit. You had dreamt…

Of your first love.

Angelwood.

A place you wouldn’t mind setting ablaze, just for the hell of it.

It ruined your life. It scarred you. It made you feel worthless.

Angelwood—a repressed, self-righteous town drenched in hollow piety.

You wanted to die. Your family had discovered something about you, something that didn’t align with their narrow version of normal. Something unholy, they said.

They went to the Pastor. He declared you a changed person. No, worse. He called you a demon. Because you had dared to correct him.

Didn’t God love everyone? Didn’t He embrace whatever or whoever you were? You screamed those questions into the void of your mind, but no answers ever came. Only shame, only pain.

Standing on the bridge, it felt right. They said that if you died like this, you’d go to hell.

To hell with them, then.

But it didn’t happen.

Someone… someone stopped you. A bag was thrown over your head, and you were yanked back. Struggling, gasping, you felt their grip tighten. They didn’t remove the bag. They just… held you.

“Hah, it’s those bastards who should be dying,” a voice whispered, raw and jagged, like shattered glass on pavement. “Why you, darlin’?”

The words dripped like honeyed venom into your ear, muffled by the cloth that separated you. Their breath was warm, close. Too close.

Their hands… they were slick, coated with something thick and wet. Paint? No. You knew it wasn’t paint. A chill ran down your spine as their grip shifted to your throat, firm yet deliberate.

“If you’re willing to go to hell by dying, then live. Live to go to hell by committing the mistake they all cursed you for. Be the devil they see you as. That’s the word of your good ol’ Beaufort.”

Beaufort…?

You woke up with a start.

Ah.

Your cheeks burned. You had dreamt about them again—the person who had saved you.

It was because of them that you ran. You left Angelwood, the town that broke you, and you started over. They were right.

They had saved you.

And so, you lived.

Your first love....

After finishing all your daily activities, you logged into the server. Sure, Ronin might have doxxed you, and you might very well be on his victim list. But hey, you’re still alive! For now.

It was Valentine’s Day, after all. A day of love and romance—and apparently, the Devil himself had a touch of sentimentality when he wasn’t actively planning your demise. You logged in, partly to distract yourself and partly to see how Luca and Feli were celebrating. Those two were pure, unadulterated sweetness, even amidst the chaos that surrounded them.

And they didn’t disappoint. Their interactions were as heartwarming as ever. Feli teased Luca; Luca gushed over her, a lovesick puppy in human form. But then, Angel decided to stir the pot.

"How many serial killers are in love, and who’s in the singles’ awareness club?" she asked.

Luca and Feli, of course, remained adorably entangled in their own little world. But then Angel turned her sights on you.

"What about you, @Readerintocrowbars? Anything you’d like to share?"

Your heart stuttered. Angel’s knack for pushing buttons was unparalleled. You were about to type "single," keeping it simple, when a direct message popped up. It wasn’t from Luca or Feli.

It was from him.

"Go on," Ronin’s message read, "tell them you’re dancing with the Devil."

The audacity of this man. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your frustration bubbling into something like amusement. There was, after all, a certain poetic irony in loving a man who was actively planning your downfall.

Still, you couldn’t let him win so easily. Could you?

“I’m with the Devil,” you typed proudly.

Ronin’s response came almost instantly:

“Loud and proud! I like it!”

Your stomach flipped. Was that pride in his tone? Satisfaction? Maybe both? Before you could analyze it, Angel piped up again, suggesting everyone hop into a call since she’d been too busy with work to catch up properly.

The call was lively, as expected. Luca quoted a line from that infamous movie about talking cars, and the laughter that followed was infectious. Everything felt normal—or as normal as it could, given the company.

Until someone started teasing.

"You and Ronin, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G," Luca sing-songed, earning a round of snickers.

The laughter erupted again, and your face burned. Tragic? Maybe. A little amusing? Definitely. You couldn’t help but think that Beaufort didn’t save you all those years ago just for this moment—to be teased for flirting with death himself. And yet, here you were, tangled in a devilish game that only seemed to deepen with every passing day.

Narrative Version

The air was thick with tension as Ronin leaned back against the wall, his smirk sharp enough to cut through the silence. His gaze, dark and piercing, settled on his companion, waiting for the game to unfold. The words "Truth or Dare" hung in the air like a challenge.

He grinned, his voice dripping with a dark amusement. "Happy Valentine's, darling. How's your obsession with me going?"

A slow, teasing smile tugged at the corners of their lips as they replied, the words dripping with equal parts sarcasm and intrigue. "As good as good could be."

Ronin chuckled, his eyes glinting. "You're quite the character! But I'm gettin' ahead of myself. Truth or dare?"

They raised an eyebrow, feeling the familiar pull of their dynamic. "I thought I got to choose your truths."

"Whoops," Ronin muttered, feigning mock surprise. "Someone hasn't forgotten our little rule-change! You're smart. I'll let ya have at it. What've you got to say, baby?"

They took a breath, then spoke, their voice cool and composed, like they were issuing a challenge. "Truth. What's your tragedy?"

For a moment, Ronin's grin faltered, replaced by something darker—a flicker of something deep, something raw. He leaned in, his voice lowering as if the words were almost too heavy to bear. "Shit, you want me to do the full villain monologue? Fine, darlin'. We've got all day."

They gave a small, silent nod, knowing this would be something they weren’t going to forget. "So what's the devil got to say?"

Ronin's laugh was a low rumble, a sound that might have been bitter if it weren’t so wrapped in his chaos. "Dunno, whatever the fuck you want. I'm hell outta Angelwood. I stuck the pastor through his cross an' murdered a dozen more. Gone through the cities and danced devilry in 'em too."

Their lips pressed together, skepticism evident in their eyes. "I don't believe it."

His eyes burned with intensity, a mixture of fury and something more vulnerable. "All there is to me, that's all."

The silence that followed was sharp, and then they spoke again, their voice slightly softer. "That's a story, not a tragedy."

A sharp grin twisted his features, cruel and knowing. "Hoped you wouldn't notice."

Ronin straightened, his demeanor shifting, turning colder. "I had... someone... once. They were my... past. My childhood everything." His gaze softened for a fraction of a second before hardening again. "They hated to love me. Dying in it, their fuckin' tragic femininity, perfect girlhood bullshit. An' that was my dream come true. I made myself the devil to... save them."

They watched him closely, feeling the weight of his words settle between them. The pause hung thick in the air as they pressed on. "What happened?"

His voice dropped to a low rasp, like something venomous escaping his lips. "It's a shitty repressed Christ-loving town. What d'you think happened?"

They felt the words cut deeper than they'd intended. "They're gone. And I'm the devil becoming. Nothin' less, nothin' more."

A somber silence passed before they responded softly, "I'm sorry."

Ronin's eyes locked onto theirs, an almost mocking glint dancing in his stare. "Cause it's all your fault. Sure. Say it again and again and we'll save her together. Curse my name three times and rewind time. Clap your hands, call me a devil, let's Faustian bargain this shit out. That's how it fuckin' works."

His hands flexed as if he were toying with the very air around him, the symbols on his body all too real to him. "Oh, my Satanic symbols mean nothin' to ya?"

They tilted their head slightly, unbothered. "Eh, just means you're edgy."

Ronin’s lips curled into something between a smile and a snarl. "I chose it."

Their voice softened, almost pleading, as if they were trying to reach him beyond the facade he wore. "You don't have to... do this."

The air shifted again, and Ronin stood taller, his presence dominating the room. "Pretend you're larger-than-life. Like you're... the devil you are."

"And that's the rub," he muttered, a dark edge creeping into his words. "The devil I am. An' you can't deny it, can ya? That's who I am."

He stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "What d'you think, darling? Is it tragic enough for you?" His tone was an almost mockingly sweet whisper as if daring them to say otherwise.

RONIN leaned back, his smirk fading into something softer, something almost vulnerable. "So," he drawled, breaking the silence, "what do you think? Tragic enough for ya?"

You hesitated, your gaze fixed on him. "It’s true," you finally admitted, your voice quieter now. "It’s… tragic."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you hung heavy, thick with shared secrets and the weight of things unsaid. Finally, you broke the silence. "What if I told you," you began cautiously, "that I’ve had my own sad experiences with Angelwood?"

RONIN’s eyes snapped to yours, surprise flickering across his face. "Angelwood? You… you’re from there too?" His expression was a mixture of shock and curiosity, like he was piecing together a puzzle he didn’t know existed. "What, did the town call you a devil too?"

A bitter laugh escaped you. "Something like that," you admitted. "I… didn’t realize you were from the same shitty town. That explains a lot." You paused, glancing down as memories threatened to resurface. "That’s why I’ve always hated Christmas," you added, almost as an afterthought.

At that, RONIN looked away, his jaw tightening. His fingers drummed against his knee, a restless rhythm betraying his discomfort. The vulnerability from earlier was back, tugging at the edges of his devil-may-care facade.

You studied him for a moment before speaking again. "From the looks of it," you said carefully, "you must’ve had… someone. A past lover, maybe? That’s who… Ther… that person was, wasn’t it?"

His reaction was immediate and telling—a sharp intake of breath, a brief clench of his fists. He didn’t deny it, but he didn’t confirm it either. Instead, he looked away, refusing to meet your eyes.

Something stirred in the back of your mind, a fragment of a memory that had been buried for years. "Now that I think about it," you murmured, almost to yourself, "it sounds familiar. I might’ve noticed them once."

RONIN’s head turned slightly at that, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might say something, but the words never came. And just like that, the fragile thread connecting you both was severed, the silence between you growing heavier with every passing second.

Neither of you said anything after that. Maybe it was better this way, leaving the past untouched, the wounds unspoken.

You paused, your gaze flickering down to your hands, fingers tapping restlessly against the cold surface. The moment felt strange, like the silence between you and Ronin was both too heavy and too light, like it was waiting for something deeper to unfold.

You took a deep breath before speaking again, voice softer now, a tremor beneath your words. "My past... it's true. There was a pastor—someone my family trusted completely. They didn’t see me for what I was. Instead, they took me to him, believing I was... possessed. That something inside me made me broken, that I wasn’t just going through problems. They thought a demon caught me."

Your laugh was bitter, hollow. "They didn’t get that I wasn’t crazy. But the pastor? He told them I was. That I was the devil himself. And my family—my own flesh and blood—they believed him. They stopped seeing me as , their child. They saw a demon. They called me that, said I didn’t deserve to live. That I was better off dead."

The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy and raw. You swallowed hard, shaking your head as if trying to shake off the memories. "So, I thought about it. Thought about ending it before... before they could."

You sat back, the weight of your own past pressing down on you as you began to speak, your voice raw but steady. "It's true," you said softly, looking away for a moment as the memories started to unravel. "The pastor, the one my family trusted... he took me there. Instead of getting me the help I needed, he... he decided I was possessed. That I was some demon, not a person who just had problems."

A bitter laugh escaped you, but it quickly died in the air. "They believed him, you know? My own family... They didn’t see me. They saw what he said, believed every word of it. 'The devil's child,' they called me." You paused, feeling the heaviness of it all. "They told me I didn’t deserve to live. And in the end, I almost believed them."

RONIN’s eyes narrowed, studying you closely, but he didn’t interrupt. There was something in his gaze, something that almost looked like recognition.

You closed your eyes, gathering your thoughts. "Before I could do it—before I could end it all... someone saved me. They didn’t show themselves, just a shadow. Covered in blood, but they didn’t hurt me. They... they spoke to me, offered advice. Told me that I wasn’t broken. That there was something more. Something that could keep me going."

The memory felt like a whisper in your mind, fading in and out, but the core of it remained. "That’s what I am now. That’s why I’m always so... adamant. Sticking to this point, this dynamic. I’m not the devil they wanted me to be. I’m someone else."

You turned your gaze back to Ronin, your voice taking on a different edge, almost teasing. "And that’s what I see between us. You’re always saying things like, 'Die for me, kill me like a loverboy would, carve out your aorta and serve it on a silver platter.' It’s your trademark. Your little game. But I’ve got something else in mind."

The air shifted as you leaned in slightly, eyes locking with his, your voice lowering. "What if I said, 'Live for me, thrive in this hellscape with me. May death do us part.'"

For a moment, it felt like you were the one pulling the strings, the roles shifting. You grinned, watching Ronin’s expression flicker with something... amused, almost intrigued. "We play our little game, don’t we? Witty banter, dangerous charm, back and forth, like some twisted dance. But, maybe… maybe this time, we dance a different tune."

You chuckled softly, leaning back, your smile lingering. "It’s cute, isn’t it? The way we both cling to these dynamics, testing each other. How cute you and I are together... this twisted little connection we’ve built. You're someone who finds death hot. I find living hot."

You could feel Ronin’s eyes on you, the tension between you both shifting again, but now with a certain understanding—a kind of recognition of the game that was always being played, the layers of darkness you both wore like masks.

"So you should totally let me live." You said with a wink.

"Haha, No Darling, Sorry."

"It was..worth a shot you know.."

RONIN chuckled darkly, the sound rich with mockery. "Live for me, thrive in this hellscape," he mimicked, a wicked grin tugging at his lips as he leaned forward. "Oh, how cute. You really think you’re the opposite of me? You think that makes you better? That somehow, you can survive all this... this mess we’re in and I can't?"

His eyes glinted with amusement as he continued, the taunt hanging in the air, sharp and biting. "Well, sweetheart, keep thinking that. But the truth is," his smile stretched wider, almost too wide, as if savoring the irony. "We're both just as fucked up. And you know it."

He leaned back, eyes narrowing with that familiar calculating gaze. "Anyway," he muttered, almost to himself, before focusing back on you, "Truth or dare, darling?"

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if you were ready for another one of his mind games. "Truth."

He didn’t hesitate, his eyes gleaming with sudden interest. "Alright then," he began, voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. "What’s the name of the person who made you want to live? Who saved you from... yourself?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with expectation. You stared at him for a beat, the answer already clear in your mind, but somehow, saying it out loud felt different.

"Beaufort," you replied softly, the name slipping from your lips like it had always belonged there.

RONIN’s eyes widened, a flicker of something dark crossing his features—surprise, recognition, maybe even a twinge of jealousy. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the same cool indifference he always wore.

He remained silent for a moment, studying you like he was trying to figure out something about you he hadn’t seen before. The tension was palpable, the space between you both electric with unspoken thoughts.

Finally, a slow, almost predatory smile spread across his face. "So," he said, voice low, dangerous, "you already know the answer, don’t you? You already know."

Your eyes narrowed, confused but intrigued. "What do you mean?" you asked, leaning forward just a little, trying to read him. "What answer?"

He didn’t respond immediately, instead just smiling like he held some private victory. The silence stretched, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was toying with you.

You couldn’t take it anymore. "Truth," you said again, a playful edge to your voice despite the growing tension. "I want to hear your name."

RONIN’s grin grew wider, sharper, and he leaned closer to the screen. His gaze was now fixed on you, a glint of something dangerous dancing in his eyes. "You want my name, huh?" he asked softly, voice almost too smooth. "You’ll hear it. In your dreams, darling."

He paused, letting the words sink in, watching you carefully. "I’ll whisper it to you, if you really want to know. But... I think you’ll hear it soon enough. You’ll dream about it already, won’t you?"

Before you could respond, he cut the call abruptly, leaving the silence hanging in the air, thick with unanswered questions and the promise of something far darker.

You quickly reconnect the call, the screen flickering before Ronin’s face fills the frame again, his expression a mix of amusement and that ever-present darkness in his eyes. He leans back, his tongue lazily brushing over his lips as he smirks.

"Back again?" he drawls, voice dripping with mock curiosity. "What is it, darling? Got something more to say? What’s left to talk about?"

You meet his gaze, steady and unwavering. "I understand what you meant earlier," you say, your voice a little more serious this time, though there’s still a playful edge to it. "You won’t tell me your name. I have to figure it out myself, right?"

RONIN’s smirk widens, his tongue poking out as he nods slowly. "Exactly, babe. That’s the fun of it. You gotta solve the puzzle. Don’t expect me to make it easy for you."

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "I get it," you say, then pause for a beat, leaning a little closer to the camera. "But, I have a request. Will the devil hear it?"

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued, yet a bit amused. "A request, huh? What do you want, darling? Ask away."

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking. "I’ve always celebrated with my crush... whoever it may be. And honestly, whether I die tomorrow or not, I want to spend the time I have left with someone I like. I’ve chosen you, Ronin. Even if you want to kill me... I want to live with you. So, what do you say?"

You pause for a moment, watching him, then slowly extend your hand toward the camera, your fingers trembling just slightly. "Will you be my date? My love... until our time comes? Even before you kill me?"

RONIN’s eyes flicker with something—surprise? Maybe a little satisfaction? His lips twitch as he watches you, and for a second, you can’t tell if he’s going to laugh or sneer.

He chuckles softly, the sound low and dark, yet there's a genuine edge to it that almost sounds like... admiration. "You’re something else, aren’t you?" he mutters, his gaze flicking away from the camera for a moment, his fingers twitching as if he’s considering something.

"You really think a little thing like death is gonna stop us?" he asks, his voice almost contemplative now, his usual bravado slipping just slightly. "You’re not scared of me, are you?"

You don't flinch, keeping your hand out, your voice steady despite the tension. "No. I’m not scared. I want to be with you."

There’s a long silence, and for a moment, you think he might not answer. But then, his eyes meet yours again, and his grin spreads slowly, like a snake ready to strike.

"Fine," he says, his voice quieter, almost sincere, though still laced with that dangerous edge. "Yes. I’ll be your date... until the time comes. It’s cute, really, how you keep pushing me. But let’s see how long that lasts."

He looks away briefly, his lips curling into something dangerously close to a smile, though his eyes remain distant, almost lost in thought.

"Guess I kinda wanted to say yes, anyway," he mutters under his breath, but you hear it. You catch the shift in his tone—just enough to know that maybe, just maybe, he’s not as indifferent as he lets on.

With that...You spent your last love-day they say, With the man who wants to kill you and carve out your aorta.

So pretty.

this is just part 1! ill do part 2 soon!

[flusteredfools]

(Summer Daze again- sorry!!!) Was there ever a moment where Sun or Moon genuinely hurt Reader's feelings, or upset them that caused them to back off or avoid the boys for a while? How did Sun and / or Moon react?

First, please don’t be sorry!! I love answering asks and ones for my Fics/Au’s are especially delightful as well as help me flesh more of them out if it’s not something I’ve already focused/touched on so it’s really really nice and helpful!! I’m not sure how close I am to starting the main fic so I’m not too worried about spoiling things that will be in it; though for those who do mind, you might not want to read this if you have good memory and will most likely remember it later in a few months or so XD

(included some rough doodles before I start the next batch of ych prizes XD)

Moon, not so much, but only because conversations were already so few and short between him and the reader; his silence slowly lost its edge as Reader accepted he just is soft spoken and short with his words. So even if/when Moon wanted his silence to bother them, it never hurt too much after the first few times. 

Sun, though, made it crystal clear that he didn’t like Reader from the start, and while not quite bullying (as he would NEVER let that happen to anyone under his watch) he certainly tried his very best to make things as difficult for them as possible. And while it did make them feel sad (after all it's not fun to have your new coworkers not like you) they accepted there had to be a reason for his actions and tried to work through it while hoping the two would eventually come around and the three would be friends one day.

That friendship became a bit of a double edge sword though, as once they started to get closer, Sun had started to lash back out and at that point, Reader couldn’t help but take it personally; friends one day but not the next makes for a confusing struggle. 

The final wound that broke their hope was an overheard argument Sun was having with Buck (The human counselor from Team Fauna), where Sun (who still couldn’t be honest with himself) shared what he claimed were his true feelings before Moon could stop him as Reader turned the corner to where they were standing. 

The immediate hurt that washed over their expression as their eyes filled and overflowed with tears had both bots’ processes stuttering in panic as Reader turned to run away, choosing to hide in the woods to cry their heart out alone. Moon shouted after them but couldn’t get himself to move out of his frozen shock, and Sun was still just as equally frozen; he’s said plenty of borderline mean things but he’s never made you cry before, it was the first time in his whole existence he truly felt such a deep regret over his actions.

Once they manage to get themselves moving, the two try searching for the Reader and despite knowing the trails and forest well enough to map every path without looking, fail to find them. Eventually Reader leaves the woods and quietly stumbles back to the shared cabin at night; only entering once they believed the two bots were charging in their sleep mode to hide under their blankets for some restless sleep. 

The next day both celestials were greeted with short and forced pleasantries and awkward smiles that they knew held no real joy. Moon had attempted to smooth things over, to at least help rebuild the foundation of the shared relationship; but it seemed you had resolved yourself into believing none of it. Even though the ‘truth’ shared was only by Sun; Moon wasn’t spared from the cold distance, excuses Reader would make to stay away and keep themselves busy with tasks that didn’t require either co-counselor. 

Neither liked it, not after knowing how sweet all the shared moments could be. The hurt Moon had felt only worsened and festered, turning into small fights with Sun over the loss of a wonderful friendship, let alone the loss of a budding love neither would now get to experience. It only took one moment to break everything, and now the two will spend every moment trying to fix it.