#wow. i never expected this from 2025

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

........ok this is becoming a bit of a problem HAHAHAHA

I've heard that adhd brain makes you more excited to do stuff you shouldn't be doing, like side projects and whatnot, and I'm FEELING that right now. The dumber it is, the more likely I'm gonna wanna draw it. After sketching a comm tonight, I was like hmm.... what if I let myself draw more propaganda. As a treat. :) And here we are

Inspired by (specifically the middle bit) @blorbo-rebellion:

Here's the other Neptune propaganda I drew!

@need-him-pregnant-poll

VOTE FOR HIM... MAYBE....

[miedei]

Honey.

helping clark housesit for his parents leads to: 1. lots of teasing, and 2. getting very familiar with his childhood bedroom (aka fucking in clark's childhood bed)

a/n: watched superman (2025) like 10 hours ago and my childhood crush is soooo back i need him bad, went into a different plane of existence and wrote this in a two-hour-old gdoc, first dc fic!!

cw: clark kent x fem!reader, established relationship, smut mdni, banter, fingering, praise, lowkey size kink he's HUGE, slightttt dumbification but not really by clark, unprotected piv, he almost breaks the headboard, defiling clark's childhood bedroom, you want each other badddd

wc: 2.8k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

“So, this is where Clark Kent grew up, huh? I can see it now, you’re running in that field, yelling at your dad on the porch, sneaking a nudie mag in your backpack through that door—”

A large palm flattens over your mouth, muffling your next words. Slumping your shoulders dramatically, you look up with mirth in your eyes. 

Clark is standing in front of you, his expression defeated. It’s clear he’s half-regretting inviting you to house-sit for his parents with him for the week, but the flush on his cheeks indicates that your teasing isn’t all bad. 

“I’ll have you know I never had any magazines that weren’t PG-13.”

He speaks with a mock-injured tone, hand slipping down to rest on your back as he guides you through the screen door into the old-fashioned living room. 

“What kind of degenerate do you think I am? Ma raised me right.”

You should be teasing him further. If you had your wits about you, you would. It’s unfortunate that the feeling of Clark’s hand on your lower back makes you go a little loopy. You’re lucky he hasn’t caught on to what his touch does to you, or you’d be screwed. 

Flushing slightly, you dance out of his grip, running a finger over the shelves. 

“So, are you gonna, um, give me a tour? Lots of anecdotes, I want the true Clark Kent experience.”

His low chuckle is indulgent, a finger hooking into your belt loop as a means of tugging you towards the door. 

“If you want it, you’ll get it. Just don’t be mad at the tour guide when this takes a while.”

You have to shake the daze from your eyes before you can hear the story he’s telling about accidentally cracking the kitchen countertop.

The Kent house is exactly how you’d expect it. It’s quaint, the decor reflecting the cozy tastes of his parents. Each room has a reminder of Clark though, whether intentional or not. 

The doorway to the bathroom has markings of his growing height in childhood, including the five-month period where he went from 5'8" to 6’3”. The office has a dent in the wall, where Clark sheepishly tells you he kicked a soccer ball by accident when he was ten. It leaves you feeling as if you knew him when he was young, by proxy of the many scrapes he got himself into. 

Nothing does it like his bedroom, though. The final stop on his tour, Clark forgoes any preamble, simply opening the door and letting you wander in. 

It’s a stark contrast to the rest of the house, the brown paneled walls plastered with various posters and pictures. You can’t help but grin, seeing the trophy case with all his football awards near the window. 

“Wow, Kent. Didn’t realise you were Boy Wonder, too,”

You cross the room, immediately fiddling with the academic awards that are hanging on the far wall. 

“I mean, is it even fair at this point?”

You can hear him huff out a deep breath, picturing how he’s surely lifting one large hand to rub the back of his neck, his flannel straining against the bulge of his bicep and—

“It really wasn’t that big a deal, Smallville’s got a pretty good high school for the area.”

His voice cuts through the static in your brain, the barely-there heat of his chest radiating towards your back snapping you into reality at once. Humble bastard.

Turning to face him, you step as close as you can, hands finding their rightful place on his shoulders. 

“I think you’re selling yourself short. Besides, it’s better for me if you’re exceptional. I get to pat myself on the back for locking you down.”

You go in for a quick peck, pressing your lips to his slightly-chapped ones for a brief moment. Parting from him, the two of you seem transfixed by each other’s eyes, Clark leaning back in for another when a distinctive poster catches your eye, making you turn your head.

Clark’s lips land on your cheek as you rile yourself up for more teasing. 

“Clark! The Mighty Crabjoys? Are you kidding?”

He lets out a groan, hands settling at your waist as he attempts to turn you back toward him. 

“Yes I did listen to them, yes I was an insufferable poser as a kid, yes you would have mocked me relentlessly, now please?”

His lips seek yours, molding against you for another moment before you pull back again. 

“No, wait, don’t distract me. That’s there unironically? Like, you listened to them, and listened to them so much that you just had to—”

You’re cut off again, tasting the cornbread you’d had earlier on his tongue as he laves it over your bottom lip. Suddenly you’re not all that bothered with the poster anymore. 

It’s his turn to talk now, it seems.

“Can we please stop talking about the poster?”

His voice has deepened a few octaves, sounding eerily similar to his Superman voice. It’s doing bad things for your panties, feeling your thighs rub together involuntarily. You’re rendered mute, nodding wordlessly up at him. 

A self-satisfied smile settles on his face, using his grip on you to walk you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. 

“Thank you, honey.”

He’s pushing you down softly, lowering you until you settle against the plaid sheets. You’re given absolutely no time to register anything else about the bed, not when he’s settling over you, all broad chest and thick thighs and beautiful face. 

“Clark…”

“Yeah? What is it?”

It seems like he’s relishing the opportunity to get you back for all your teasing, leaning on an elbow resting near your head as his other hand slips down to grip your hip. It’s unfair how he gets to you. 

“I want… You know what I want.”

You can barely stand to look at him, his eyes are so big and kind. You could get lost in him, drawn in by his gravitational pull. 

“Yeah, I do know, don't I? You want your clothes off, sweetheart?”

Your head begins to nod before you even register it, making Clark laugh as he sits up to tug off your clothes. 

Once you’re sufficiently undressed, you’re feeling a little unfair. He’s still wearing so much. Clumsy hands fly to the hem of his shirt, pushing it up gently. 

“You too, Clark. Not going to let me be the only one in their birthday suit, right?”

He blushes, but follows the movements of your hands, shucking off his shirt and jeans, although the black boxers he’s got on remain there, much to your dismay. The moment he’s bare enough, he’s climbing right back over you, lips pressing to yours with insistence. 

Clark generally lets you take the lead with kissing, letting you explore his mouth with as much zeal and vigour you can muster. He’s content to moan into your mouth, hands running wild over all the newly-exposed skin at his disposal. 

Rough fingertips travel up to your hair, smoothing it back as your tongue brushes against his. A soft squeeze to your breast when you gasp for air before diving right back in. Slowly, slowly, he begins to make his way down your body.

You falter a little as he lingers over your stomach, rubbing a thumb over your lower belly, feeling yourself ache for him. Your own hands spring into action, caressing over the planes of his abdomen as you move lower and lower. 

However, a hand encircles your wrist before you can reach his boxers, Clark’s abashed face looking at you.

“Not yet, baby. Can’t—oh, gosh,”

He throws his head back in pleasure when you forge forward, boldly gripping him through the thin fabric. 

“Clark, please. You said you’d give me what I wanted.”

He seems to falter, but his touch doesn’t move, redirecting your hand to rest on his shoulder. 

“You know we can’t… yet. I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

Damn it. Damn his big fucking eyes and his honeyed voice. You can’t complain, no matter how much you’d want to. Not when he’s looking at you like that. 

With a sigh, you slump a little, voice slightly petulant. 

“Fine.”

He sees right through it, of course he does. 

“Oh, I know. It’s so hard, isn’t it, letting me touch you?”

You’d have a cutting reply on the tip of your tongue if his hands weren’t roaming again, his left cupping the back of your head as the right makes its way down to where you’re dripping. 

Your legs spread automatically, letting his fingers brush against your soaked folds. You have to moan, the feeling of his larger fingers always overwhelming at first. 

He swipes through your folds, once, twice, until his index finger is covered in slick. You’d be embarrassed, but it’s hard to feel anything but pleasure when Clark is touching you. Slowly, he brings his index up to your hooded clit, pressing down on it with practised precision. 

It’s like he’s feeling it too, the way he starts to pant at the sight of you getting enveloped in bliss. This is a part of your routine because you need to be worked open, yes, but it’s also selfishly for Clark’s own satisfaction, you both know it. 

The pleasure arcing up your spine has you arching your back, right leg jerking involuntarily. It only seems to spur him on, index leaving your clit. 

Acknowledging your whine with a kiss to the temple, Clark moves his hand slightly, positioning his finger a little lower. 

“Here we go, honey.”

He pushes further, thick finger brushing your gummy walls deliciously. Every time Clark fingers you, you worry that you’ll never be able to go back to your own fingers again. His are like the rest of him, broad, work-worn and skilled. The way he slowly increases the pace of his movements have you squirming under him, hands scrabbling at his shoulders. 

“Doing so good for me, baby. Take it like a champ, every time.”

His hushed praises are sent straight to your core, hot breath fanning over your cheek as he adds another impossibly large finger to the mix. 

The stretch burns, in the way that has you gushing around his digits. You’re openmouthed, unable to stop the endless torrent of moans and whimpers that leave you. 

“Clark—!”

He smiles a little, watching how your hips are starting to grind down on his palm. 

“Yeah, honey? Feeling good?”

You nod frantically, staring wide-eyed up at him.

One more finger joins the two already plunging in and out of you, and the staggering onslaught of sensations pushes you over the edge. 

A final brush of his palm against your clit and you fall apart, choked moans spilling into the air as your hips stutter.

“Oh my god, ohmygod, Clark!”

He knows to work you through it, slowing his pace until the wave has crested, and you’re looking up at him with big, wet eyes. 

Pulling his hand away from you, he dips down, capturing your lips with his. 

“How’re you feeling, honey? Want to stop?”

You’d rather die. You tell him so, reveling in the shock on his face. He seems to forget how badly you want him until it's shoved in his face, so you do just that.

Snaking a hand between your bodies, you brush the waistband of his boxers again. 

“Please, Clark? You know I can take it. Just wanna feel you.”

He’s a sucker for you, you both know it.

That’s what has him shoving down his boxers with graceless hands, what has him blushing when you compliment his cock for the umpteenth time. 

He’s hovering back over you, the mattress dipping by your head and hip, where he’s braced himself with a hand and knee. His other hand has found purchase on your thigh, kneading at the plush flesh idly. 

You wonder absentmindedly if there will be any marks left later. He’d be mortified. You’d love it.

“Sweetheart, you ready? Gotta take this slow,”

He’s let go of your thigh, gripping his cock at the base so he can swipe through your folds. You both let out guttural moans, laughing at each other when the pleasure subsides. 

“Yeah, Clark. I want it.”

He’s embarrassed by your confession, like he always is, but that doesn’t stop him from pressing his hips forward a fraction. The blunt tip of his cock pushes past your entrance, the stretch causing another moan from the both of you. 

You’ll never get used to it, the all-encompassing pleasure that comes with the first few inches of him. 

He’s slow, taking his time as he groans word salad into your ear. 

“Feels so—so good, baby. Always so good for me, aren’t you? Does it— oh, god— you feeling okay?”

His voice is hoarse, as if he’s been yelling for days. You can’t help but feel a little satisfaction at how thoroughly you seem to wreck the Man of Steel. 

“Yeah, Clark… Keep going.”

He nods, pushing even further. The tip of him reaches somewhere deep in you, somewhere only he’s ever been. The heady haze in your mind can’t dissipate, not when he’s making you feel like this. 

It feels like an eternity, but finally, his hips meet yours. You’re feeling obscenely full, like you could never live without him in you like this. It has you whining sharply when he pulls himself out slightly. 

However, the feeling of him pushing back in sends any thought of complaining flying out of your head. He’s swift in finding that perfect pace — somewhere between stuffing you as full as you can be and providing the friction he craves. 

Throwing your head back, you see his right hand hover in the air, as if he’s unsure what to do with it. It seems as though he’s decided when it grips the headboard behind your head, but a splintering sound has you pushing past the daze to warn him.

“Can’t— Don’t break the headboard—” You’re cut off by a moan, unable to stop yourself. He seems suitably chastised though, his hand balling into a fist and pressing into the mattress instead. You feel a distant hope that he won’t punch through that, somehow. It’d be a hell of a story to tell his parents why you had to replace it.

His left arm has slid under your shoulders in the meantime, holding you as close to his chest as possible. You’re sure he gets some pleasure out of it, but you know he does this for you. 

He knows you like to be overwhelmed by him, surrounded by his touch and smell and words until every thought’s been chased from your mind but him. He won’t let you run away from the excruciating pleasure, and you’re grateful. It’s even more wonderful here, in this single bed that forces you even closer to him than normal.

The brutal pace he’s set has you floating up to the sky in no time, head in the clouds as you let him hold you close. 

It could be a lot of things, but you’re getting close after only a few short minutes. It could be the deep groans that he’s letting loose in the air between your mouths. It could be the tight grip he’s got you in. It’s probably the incessant grinding of his pelvis against your clit when he drives home. 

Whatever it is, your arms around his neck tighten as you attempt to tell him. 

“Clark— Clark, m’gonna…”

He nods, smiling breathlessly down at you, knowing you want reassurance. 

“Me too, baby. Go ahead, you can come.”

Something about his gasped-out words has you spiralling, your climax hitting you at once. Walls spasming around him, his hips falter in their speed, slowing to a more languid, leisurely pace as he works you through it. 

“Good— good girl, honey. Feel so good.”

He lets you pull him in for a filthy, openmouthed kiss, pressing his pelvis against yours. 

One final grinding motion, and he’s gasping into your mouth. The blooming heat inside you has you shuddering with an aftershock of pleasure, moaning one final time. 

He remains pressed against you for some time, his arm holding you slightly off the bed as your chests heave. Only once he catches his breath (annoyingly quickly) does he settle you back against the sheets.

The next few moments are a blur, Clark kissing you one moment, softly wiping at your pussy with a cloth the next, and finally bringing a glass of water to your lips. 

“Feeling okay? Tired?”

“Yeah, a little, but a quick nap, and I’ll be ready.”

He looks at you quizzically, tilting his head in a way that reminds you of Krypto.

“What, you don’t have more in you? C’mon, Superman, we’ve got to wear you out at some point.”

He’s blushing again.

[kissbyoon]

“wedding dress.” ₍ h.js ₎

───── ABOUT you weren't a fan of big proposals, but you hadn't even put on your best outfit today!

⋆ 𝒘𝒄: 0.5k ⋆ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff, est. rs, humour ⋆ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bf!joshua x gn!reader ⋆ 𝒄𝒘: skinship, kissing (pecks), petnames (baby, princess (sarcasm))

A/N: inspired by my fav second couple jiang jia and guran 🥹🤍 always manifesting a guran for me!! It's been a while since my last shua drabble, and after seeing him with hannie yesterday I felt like writing for him too!

The exhaustion from shopping for wedding dresses for your best friend nearly the entire day had become nothing as soon as Joshua, your boyfriend, arrived to pick you up. And although you whined about him not bringing his car, he was well aware that you'd end up wanting to walk down the pretty streets and he'd have to abandon his car.

As expected, he was right.

Now, as you two walk hand-in-hand, you begin ranting about the pretty dresses at the mall, showing him a picture of each of them on your phone.

“This one is my favourite!” you say, sliding another picture on your phone. Joshua hums, a fond smile playing on his lips.

“And this one too! I want to wear this one so badly.” You sighed dramatically, putting your phone in your pocket.

“You want to?” Joshua looked at you, a soft smile grazing his lips as he saw your small pout. Without glancing at him, you nod, tightening your grip on his hand.

“But it's a wedding dress.” You sigh.

A twinkle of mischief flickered on his eyes as he thought of his next words. Without warning, he pulled you closer to his side.

“Don't worry, you’ll be wearing that very soon.” he teased, and when you snapped your head, he winked flirtatiously with a smile.

With widened eyes, you tried your best to stop the twitching of your lips. You looked away, acting normal (or trying to).

“Very bad flirting skills.”

“Hm? Really?” He teased again, dropping his voice to a much gentle and softer tone because that's how you like it.

“Well, I was thinking…” he began, his eyes never leaving your face. “Don't you think we should also—”

“No, no! You can't propose so casually! I'm dressed so awkwardly right now!” You gasped, putting your hands over your ears and picking up your pace to walk ahead faster. Joshua stood there dumbfounded, his hand that held yours frozen mid-air.

He registered your words, a chuckle escaping his lips as he turned to look at you, who was mumbling things about how “this wasn't your best outfit” or “you would've atleast took extra minutes getting ready”.

Joshua immediately caught up behind you, and the next thing you know, he pulls you right against his chest, trapping you in his hold.

“First of all,” he pecks your lips. “You look ethereal even without being in your best outfit or spending extra minutes to get ready.” He states as a matter of fact.

“And secondly,” he pecks the tip of your nose. “I wasn't proposing, baby. But if you want me to, I can do it right now.”

Your lips curved into a smile at his words. He mirrored your smile, his hand reaching to cradle your head.

“You don't need to. Because from the way you're sounding so down bad for me, I might wife you up right here.”

Joshua threw his head back in laughter, his eyes literally twinkling with amusement and love. You stare as he laughs with a grin, your hands instinctively reaching out to squish his cheeks.

“Then you’ll carry me in bridal style instead?” He chuckles, his silly question causing you to laugh too.

“Ofcourse, wifey, ofcourse.” You tease, pulling him down slightly to peck his lips.

“Oh wow, princess treatment, huh?” He remarked sassily as you pulled away, earning another laugh from you.

Whether it's Joshua giving princess treatment to you, or you giving him princess treatment—he’s happy with anything as long as it's your wish. For you, he's willing to become a housewife.

© KISSBYOON 2025. All rights reserved.

[yojeongin]

playing dangerous | k.dy

→bff’s stepdad!doyoung x f!reader

genre: smut, semi-angst, some fluff, forbidden affair, semi-character study

synopsis: summers are meant to be spent having fun with your best friend not fooling around with her step father.

warning(s): ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! cheating, age gap (not focused between mcs), yearning, power imbalance, massive frued psychosexual theory undertones (that old man won), morally grey characters, alluding to cycle of predation and abuse of power, manipulation, lowkey ageism, doyoung heavy mommy issues (worrying actually), oral (m receiving), cum kiss, fingering, foot play, unprotected sex, creampie, voyeurism.

wc: 15.8k || anthology masterlist || soundtrack || ao3

© 2025 YOJEONGIN all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works on other platforms. reblogs are HIGHLY appreciated and preferred!

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.

an: sorry this took longer than expected, im 3hrs late oops. the corporate lifestyle has been kicking my ass so bad (im so fucking miserable) and i wasn't satisfied with what i was going to post last week anyway so hope this is better (hope).

“Are you sure that’s your step dad and not step brother?”

Disbelief was too soft of a word for what you truly thought. When your friend had given you notice that her mother had married her boyfriend of two years (news to you), you had expected the man to be decrepit and gray haired. Not someone not too much older than what you were. 

Earlier you had confused him with one of the movers who helped bring in your friend’s and her mother’s items into the new home. You went as far as shooting him a flirty smile while making way to your friend who sat peacefully on the porch swing with a glass of cold lemonade to aid her from this horrid summer heat. 

“Yeah…“ she whines, throwing her head back enough to hit herself a tad with the backrest. “He makes her happy. As long as he does, I don’t care how old he is.” She felt judged by your constant questioning. As if she was the one marrying the man. As if she was living through her mother and her decisions to wed someone significantly younger than her. You were the last person she wanted to feel judged by, however could they truly blame your incessant curiosity and shock? Specifically when you never knew her mother was dating. What kind of best friend are you to not be as close as you believed?

Meghan wasn’t the youngest, the woman was sixty and this man looked to be in his late twenties. How could they blame you for your curiosity? 

“So how old is he?” You shift beside her, the swing rocking with every move. “He turned thirty in February. She hasn’t had a partner since I can remember, this is good for her.” Her words attempt to convince her more than you, emphasized by the harsh desperate slurping within the empty glass.

Your friend turned 25 in February too.

“Oh wow, so since he was a kid too?” You joke. It doesn’t land.

“Y/n!” She hits your arm, you laugh in return. “What?!” You whine through laughs, this time purposely rocking the swing. “Come on…” It aches like nails on a chalkboard if she thinks about it. Meghan is her mother, she could easily be Doyoung’s mother as well. She knew Doyoung's mother.

“I know what you’re thinking.” She sighs, hands and glass on her lap. “Yes, the age gap is insane but… they’re old enough.” Your friend frowns, another attempt to convince herself and failing miserably.

Raising your hands in defeat, she smiles, continuing her playful acts of harm. “Want a glass?” She offers, you decline, your mind stuck on the beautiful man standing roughly a few feet away from where you two sat. Your head struggles to not turn his way and gawk like you’ve done earlier. It's difficult, you'll find throughout these months.

You knew you shouldn’t be fawning the way you are. After all, he is now Meghan’s husband. Meghan who has treated you like her own child since Pre-K. But God, you couldn’t help admire the way sweat rolled down his face and the way he wiped it away with the back of his delicate hands. 

At this moment, you’re not too bitter about your summer plans being halted. Not when he’s noticed your covetous glances and sly grins. Perhaps that's what started it all. Your restraint, pulling him step by step to where you sat. Sweat adorning his face and forcing his hair to frame his beautiful features, glistening in this sun.

A tender smile to the public eye but a reciprocative grin to you, “Welcome girls.” He smiles, wiping his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to pick you up from the airport.” He turns halfway to look at the movers entering the home. “Duty calls.”

He was cliche with his words, yet smooth enough to make your grin widen. Like a white collar in those vintage Hollywood movies. His voice, softer than imagined. He drew you in the same way you drew him. It was bound to happen.

Tina shook her head, a dismissive and polite smile. She covers her eyes from the sun which did not ambush either. Rather, it was a futile attempt to shield her emotions, easily projected onto her eyes. It’s not resentment she felt towards him. Discomfort and confusion for his decisions is.

Doyoung looks at you briefly, as if to say “I suppose we are not there yet?”, answered by your own polite smile. He dismissed it immediately, shaking his head with a slight chuckle which forced Tina to uncover her eyes, confused.

“Will you be a dear and get me a drink?” He asks when their eyes finally meet. If it means that he won’t read her any longer, Tina nods standing up. She’s out of the picture faster than he had asked without a care that Doyoung took her spot next to you. 

Doyoung smiles your way, his knee bumping into yours while he settles. You return the smile, looking at the contact. Your legs criss-crossed on the swing and his rocking you both. It’s silent besides the movers and Meghan’s music inside the home. Nevertheless, this feels comfortable, scarily so for a first-time meeting.

“I’m sorry for being the reason you two had to cancel your trip.” Doyoung leans over, elbows on his thighs. His back is on full display, wet shirt clinging to the wide muscles that force your lower lip in between your upper teeth.

Your eyes don’t unglue from him, chills running across your body for such a warm day. You sigh, following a streak and bead of sweat from his temple down to his neck. “It's fine, we didn't want to walk around for hours and see old buildings.” You reassure sarcastically, although the tone deadpans.

“No? But Italy is very beauteous. Meghan recounted, you two had been planning on it as an incentive to get through grad school. I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience.”

Doyoung did not expect to be met with laughter. He was soft spoken, tender, genuinely sorrowful, and a welcoming host. Why must you laugh at him? He’s not too sure.

His quizzical look does not subside, “I was joking, Mr. Kim.” You giggle, wiping at your threatening tears. His eyebrows furrow, yet, folds his handkerchief to a clean corner, doing the task for you. He's so close. So comfortable with being this near to a complete stranger.

“You’re narrowly five years younger than I. Please don't call me that.” He defends petulantly, forgetting about what brought you both to this topic. It sounds insane and dumb to be called that as if he was his father or an old man, he was only thirty.

It is insane and so is marrying a woman who was his current age when he was born.

You hum a response, turning away from him with a slow nod. “Do you always talk like that?” Your voice lures him again, craning his head to look at you. “Like you’re a pretentious liberal arts professor.” It’s lighthearted and mocking at the same time. Your smile slowly forms and he mirrors it.

“My father is a professor. Not for the liberal arts though but perhaps it rubbed off.” “Perhaps.”

He laughs softly in light of your continuing mockery, “Y/n, correct? I fear I haven’t properly introduced myself.” Doyoung shifts in his spot, his body facing you. He extends his hand and you take it. His fingers are nimble and long, his palms clammy but soft, and his grasp is strong but delicate against your own. 

Your smile doesn’t falter, thumb caressing his knuckles, an act he replicates against your own. “Yes… beautiful house by the way. What do you do for a living?" You ask curiously, met by a scolding shriek when Tina and Meghan come out with glasses of lemonade, something you did not want. Lemonade and their interruption, it's interchangeable.

"Y/n those things are not asked!" Meghan scolds, handing Doyoung his glass. He laughs, shaking his head while taking a sip. You watch some of it slip from the corner of his lip. He is such an unfortunate person when it comes to liquids, it seems. Regardless, you wondered what it would be like to clean it off of him…

Someone cleanse you of these thoughts, this is forbidden grounds.

"Why not?" You ask confusedly, looking at the components inside the cup. Nothing but murky pulp-filled sweet water. Your emotions present on your face, perceived wrongly by the only man there who felt it was your response to being scolded. "It's completely fine to ask that now, don't worry." Meghan shoots him a look, irksome at the use of 'now'. She doesn't have to wonder what he meant, only in dissecting his tone.

"I'm an aerodynamicist. Right now we're working on finding a solution to reduce the consumption of fuel." His voice is a pitch higher, tossing that pretentious tone to his words, forgetting his drink while fully turning to everyone as he excitedly gets into the topic. "The main culprit —or so we think— is the wings… let's say the wings of an aircraft. Their shape to be specific contributes to th—" Before he could finish, Meghan hums interrupting. Her words later followed, "Yeah, yeah, sounds fun. Dinner is ready so it's best we stop the chit-chat if we want something warm to eat."

Both you and Tina turn to her mother, a quick glance full of judgment and some surprise. She's never interrupted any of you when passionately speaking about your interests, this was new. Tina doesn't dare look at Doyoung though, she simply walks back inside with her still full drink in hand. Meghan on the other hand waits for him to stand up and follow her. His shoulders slumped and head low, a reassuring smile thrown your way but his dull eyes say otherwise.

"We're glad to have you girls here." Doyoung utters with a nod, turning to follow his wife. "Welcome." The only thing that leaves Meghan's lips. At the time it sounded like that, a welcoming. Now you realize she was responding to the expected devout gratitude for taking you in all those years ago and even now.

What a way to introduce their relationship to you. What a way to cement the reality of the dynamics between all.

There was a foreign air after that fateful day, something you had never expected when it came to spending time with your best friend and her mother. This was stuffy and suffocating. You chopped it to the different location, you will soon find it's the repressed feelings of everyone in this house and of those that lived before.

Meghan tried her best to not show her unwillingness towards her husband, yet it was evident to all that she held animosity for some odd reason. No amount of smiles and reassuring pats could tell any of you otherwise but they satiated him and no one would interfere with that.

Doyoung was doting and sweet. He immersed in conversations to learn more about his guests and later rewarded them with things mentioned in passing. This was his way of showing his affection. It became paternal in a way that you didn't like and in a way that made Tina uncomfortable but which she could understand. Odd, extremely so, considering he could easily be her brother. If she was to voice her dilemmas, Doyoung would fully understand. Yet like you've told her before: "If you don't speak, God won't hear you."

To you, Doyoung was yet another guy that could have been in your college classes. He made sure to act like it when he finally got comfortable and that resulted in joking and lax conversations about his interests and yours, similar to the first day. Giggles and lingering touches, too close at times for two strangers. This way he felt young and correct again.

The downside came the following day, going back to that paternal and reserved front as if he was the same age as his wife and not what he portrayed with you. Treating you and Tina like kids and that's what you both loathed about his time with Meghan. She only seemed to suck the life out of him when night fell.

Doyoung pandered to her and was at her feet with anything she asked, yet she still patronized him and shut him down when he spoke of his career and parents. Meghan never outright spoke of it but she loathed when he brought up his parents. She hated the house, the basement, the attic, the garden, and the greenhouse. She hated that damn greenhouse more than anything.

You couldn't understand where her feelings stood. She had a family, a complete family. A loving and providing husband, a daughter that would always be there for her, and an established and stable home that was all hers for the time being. What more could she ask for?

Despite Meghan's and Tina's inability to feel at home, you found yourself to fit right in in every groove.

Your bare feet are met with soft dewy kisses from the garden's grass as you sprint inside the house towards Doyoung's study. Leaving a trail of dew on the wooden floorboards. Meghan observes you from the kitchen island, pursed lips and raised glasses as you turn the corner and to the hall where those dark panel mahogany double doors greet you, brightening with every knock.

It takes three rhythmic knocks for him to know it's you. Uttering a 'come in' with a light hum. Instinctively, you smile to yourself, hand turning the now golden door knob. Not feeling the grooves of mosaic crystal and cold copper makes you frown. So does the untouched silver tray of breakfast.

You step over it when making your way inside, closing the door behind you and leaning against the cold wood when he does not turn around. Sunlight peaks through the large glass stained bow windows, his desk perfectly curved to fit into the space. The decor on the windows are your favorite.

The greens and pinks perfectly project onto his skin, making him look diaphanous. The lilies and hummingbird paint a story of near-to-death flowers seeking ailment before they perish and like the knights they are, the hummingbirds come to their aid to bring them back to life. He explained it in the way his father had, revealing his mother to be the hummingbird and his father to be the lilies saved from the misery he was in. That explains the devout love his parents had, manifested all throughout the house and the one Doyoung sought.

He now finds the story to be the other way around with no happily ever after. There's no salvation this time.

When he finally turns, he greets you with a tired smile, shoulders slumped and neck aching. He slept on the chaise lounge. The uncomfortable and awfully warm upholstered leather chaise lounge that's too short for his height. He's been there the entire day after last night's argument with Meghan over her trying to clear out his mother's greenhouse and build a shed for her crafts room. She's not content with the basement and she is not content with him giving you your individual room.

"Found you some critters." You open, his smile widens when you pull out the worn paper bag he gave you to put them in. Walking towards him, he takes it from your hands, nimble fingers gracing your drying ones. "Found these stiff on the tomato pots." You point at the caterpillars. "This butterfly was stuck to the tree trunk. Is it acting or actually dead?" Doyoung lets out a sly hum. "No… it does seem like it's near death, though." taking the butterfly out of the bag.

He looks at it for a moment, noticing the lower wings are damaged but covered by the upper wings. "There… clipped." He gently moves the upper wings with the tweezers. "Rather dramatic if you ask me. She is fine to fly but a little caring should not be bad." He stands from his seat, knees cracking to indicate his lack of movement. He places her in the terrarium, it hops around seeking the flowers you've helped him pick.

It's silent for a moment, he hums a melody while scolding the butterfly as he feeds her sugar water. You sit on his desk chair, swiveling while drumming around the taxidermy scalpels — A few of these have left some scratches on your fingers. He makes sure to lock his items inside his desk drawers, Meghan has explained her disdain and disgust for his hobby and in fear of her digging through and tossing them like she's done with the taxidermy decor, he takes extra precautions.

"Why haven't you eaten?"

Your voice makes him turn, closing the door to the terrarium. He leans against the table, crossing his arms across his chest and taking a grasp of his jaw. Rubbing it as if he was thinking of an answer. He can't lie to you though, he knows you're able to see through his lies. At least surface level, it's the small things he grants you.

"I don't like omelettes. She knows that." He confesses. "I don't like black tea and that is what's on the tray." Your leg raises, feet now dry but stained with that yellow-green hue. Your cheek rests against your bruised knee while taking in his words. He watches all your actions, biting the inside of his cheek as punishment for looking at your limbs.

"Want me to make you anything?" There's some innocence in your voice that warms his chest. Interlaced with your desire to please. Please, please, please.

He smiles fondly, eyes fluttering, and a warm feeling in his chest.

"Don't coddle me." "Generosity."

He slowly approaches you, rearranging the scalpels you played with. He looks down, analyzing you like you were one of his dissected butterflies. Pretty, soft, and delicate. Doyoung knows it's wrong to think of you this way. He's allowed Meghan to fuck the thoughts away from him but they cling to his brain while they're at it. It's vile and disgusting. The act to be precise.

"Is she still upset about the room?" You look up at him, resting against the backrest. He takes a closer look at your outfit. Denim high rise shorts, white lace short strap top, and red ribbon in your hair that he wrapped around the strands a while ago and you never got rid of. The same one he uses to decorate bigger taxidermy species like the squirrels the neighborhood cat leaves laying on the porch. You want to think it's metaphoric but you sound stupid trying to find a connection despite the words lingering in the tip of your tongue. Fresh and clear on his mind.

"I don't mind taking the attic, it's nice and cozy. Your dad did a good job decorating it." A reassuring smile that he does not accept. "What are you, Harry Potter? It's your room and it's my house." That first day during dinner, Doyoung expressed his gratitude to you for being part of their family. It did not pertain to him, he believed family deserved their own space.

His actions worked to ease and win Tina over even if it was a tad but Meghan felt a stabbing sense in her lower stomach and a scratch in her brain that made a whirling dark orb manifest. It's the same feeling that brews the longer she stands behind those mahogany doors hoping to hear what is said but the whispered mutters and her aged ear drums hand no aid.

Doyoung pulls his footstool, taking a seat before you. His hands trickle down to your foot, picking off the remaining blades that stain his own hands. He looks up at you when he reaches for a wipe, the green stains cling when the fabric graces the arch of your sole.

"It tickles." You state, he hums. Fingers press harder. "Better?" You nod. He looks at you during the ministration, putting your foot down delicately to do the same with the other. You watch his every move and he receives your gaze with a smile when he meets it. "My mom would do this when I would run around the garden. She hated when I left stains on the floors. Said they wouldn't come off but when I would go to sleep she painted over the footprints and re-stain the floor." He smiles fondly, warming up your skin from the cold, damp wipe. His fond touch doing most of the job.

"It sounds like a prank that turned into preservation. Maybe she liked seeing your growth. Meghan marked our growth on the walls of her apartment. I'm sure the landlord has painted over them now."

He hums, taking in the comparison. It's cute, nice and nostalgic but it highlights the passage of time and how mortal things seem around you and the other two. How mortal things around him can be too.

Doyoung is doting and sweet. Soft and gentle, immersing himself in his actions to not hurt the other. You envy Meghan, you're sure of it now.

"You should really put shoes on, I can't keep cleaning your feet." "You have no obligation."

He looks at you the way Mary Magdalene did when washing Jesus' feet. He looks at you like his savior and redeemer, you're not sure why or you haven't been able to fully understand him yet.

He nods, his growing finger nails pinching below your toes. You wince, confusedly looking at him. "The critters will recognize your pattern and their missing friends. Don't cry when you're pinched," He playfully scolds the way his parents used to do; voice lowering upon seeing a shadow come from under the doors. "I won't be able to kiss the pain away." He raises your foot, the action new but comforting to your taste. His eyes don't tear away when his plush lips come in contact with your newly cleaned feet. It's soft, warm, sort of wet but nice enough for you to let your hand reach for where he touches.

This is wrong, plentiful wrong but Adam (Doyoung) will drag you to take a bite of that forbidden fruit if he keeps going.

Something ate away at Meghan the longer she stood behind those thick doors. The same way ants crawled around the food she had made him earlier. That made her aching worse and if she didn't open those doors now, she won't remain sane.

She takes a few breaths in, noise seizing to come through, making things far more unsettling. Decidedly, she pushes through, opening both doors dramatically, taking in the image of her husband and faux daughter. Her eyes waver as her voice wants to do. Impotence and defeat.

Nothing.

"Must you punish me?" She directly questions. Her eyes fleeting to your lax position on his chair, recognizing the ribbon from the decor she threw out and his proximity to you. "You can't knock?" He turns his attention back to his craft, as if he had not been kneeling before you seconds prior. "Rehydration solution, Y/n."

With a syringe, he injects it onto the body of the second butterfly while you wet a paper towel, taking a beaker of solution to the other side of the room. You don't speak, following the steps he's taught you in the process.

"It's my house." Meghan states. "It's my house." Doyoung corrects.

The older woman glares. If looks could kill, the house would be hers once and for all.

"The ants are eating your breakfast." "Oh good, they'll stay away from the peonies."

He smiles to himself, Meghan can't see it but she's sure of it and that irks her more. She turns to your moving figure, handing him a warmer solution to pour in the container and put the critters in. Taking in the interaction, her eye spasms. The green stains on his slacks and your clean feet. She has no proof nor a concrete case but she knows it was nothing decent. Disturbed by the bond, she swallows her huff but not the irking orb that eats away her love for you.

"Y/n, give us some alone time." She bites, her words laced with the venom of the centipede he's wrapping around stiff caterpillars. "We're not done with this." He tuts. Meghan, appalled by his opposition, allows her jaw to slack. Her emotions are rampant and fiery that he would contradict her. That he found it in himself to not slouch his shoulders and go along with her decisions.

Your gaze flits between them, their glaring not seizing. The tension is palpable, leading you to fumble the cloth holding onto the piping hot beaker. You know how hot glass can be but when you're the magnetic pull that's causing this, it's something you don't focus on.

Your shriek forces them to break their combat, that motherly look Meghan often had returns when she sees your irritated hand and the way you fall back onto his chair the moment the scalding solution splashes over your bare feet.

They rush towards you, watching their step over the broken pieces of glass. While Meghan attempts to question if you're okay, Doyoung is already in the process of rubbing Silvadene over the light burn of your palm. She watches in amazement how delicate he is. His fingers grace over the skin, if it wasn't stinging you'd repeat that it tickles. And if his wife wasn't here, he'd replicate the image of soothing your aching feet with kisses.

With every passing second, Meghan feels that obscure orb grow and grow. Her motherly instinct is consumed by it, disgusted queries plaguing her heart and soul seeing him sit on the foot stool and place your feet over his lap. This is how the stains on his slacks came to be. His nimble digits rubbing the ointment on noticeable ailments and on spots you pointed at with minute pained whimper that she'll take as pleasure.

This isn't right. Meghan no longer feels like a mother to you. And this is only one of many instances her feelings are reassured.

Doyoung didn’t want to argue any longer in the dark depths of his cold bedroom. It was amazing how quickly his marriage was falling apart in the span of a few weeks when the two shared a beautiful —so he’s forcing himself to think— relationship. Now all he can do is whisper his grievances to his wife who finds it disrespectful that he’s rebutting her own arguments due to his age.

Meghan will never say it out loud but she respects Doyoung less and expects him to treat her like his superior for said gap, forgetting they were in a relationship and should both treat each other accordingly and not like mother-son; disgustingly.

Said argument is what led a tired Doyoung to sigh heavily on his way out of the bedroom in hopes of relaxation by either watching something in the media room or basking in the night’s breeze while sitting on the porch swing with a glass of whiskey on the rocks or an ice cold beer.

The latter makes him smile fondly.

Decidedly, Doyoung pads towards the kitchen, his bare feet absorbing the coldness of the wooden floors, ignoring his scolding after you burnt your feet. The closer he got to the large room, the sound of his padding mellowed out compared to the rummaging of items. For a second he feared they'd gotten an infestation of mice. It would not be the first time the house had any.

His inquiries were disposed of once reaching the kitchen when he saw such a pretty image that made him relax. And similar to the mice he once fended against years ago with his father, you sat in front of the fridge, feasting, with a bottle of whipped cream at hand. Allowing the sweet dairy to fall upon a strawberry that you indelicately shoved into your mouth without a care that its juice spilled from the corner of your lips and the dairy followed behind, creating a light pink ribbon to decorate your pretty lips the way those glosses you often smear do.

It oddly reminds him of the first day you two met. He looks at you the same way you looked at him. Lingering and foreign attraction, although it's not so foreign now.

It's not right, but you're closer and closer to taking a bite out of that apple.

You don't bother cleaning the cream off, continuing to push the berries into your mouth. One after another as your stomach yearns for more. You could’ve continued, although halt at his endeared chuckle. You're startled, feeling a cold sweat wash through your entire body. If there was one thing you hated was people catching you eating late at night. More so when you're filling your aching body with self targeted disgust and sweets. Like a child, the one he treats you as when the other two are near but forgotten about when it's just you two.

This is what holds you back, the apple seems so rotten and further at times.

Doyoung doesn't speak, walking towards you with a napkin in hand, taken on his way. He crouches down to your level, making you break out of that frozen state. “I’m sorry…” you whisper, eyes following his, seeking any reaction. “For what?” He questions sweetly, hand cupping your jaw softly. Shooting you a quick glance and smile before continuing his ministration.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come down to eat in secrecy.” You swallow hard, a lump formed in your throat with his touch, unaware of when. “I know she doesn't like it but usually she comes up to tell me dinner was ready and…” You shrug, meek voice making his chest compress, he senses unwarranted guilt. As if it was your fault his wife kept using food as punishment.

Meghan had told him you were asleep, not that she didn't let you know dinner was ready and that disquiets him. His eyebrows furrow, other hand reaches your face, softly wiping the strawberry juice with his thumb. Licking it beforehand. Doyoung is closer and closer with every passing day. Just last night his touch lingered in between your thigh and knee, you imagine he'll reward you and slip his fingers between your lips soon. Whichever ones and you won't be opposed to it like prior times.

Doyoung gives you a semi-scolding look, “I've told you before. It's my house, you can eat whenever and whatever you want, Y/n." He pats your cheek, pecking it for reassurance. The action startles you every time. They never feel soft and innocent. Always intentional but when he pulls back and gives you a reassuring smile, it forces you to ponder how much you want his generosity to be more than that? It's wrong, you're aware of it, always will be.

His touch lingers a little longer, fleeting stares from your own eyes to lips as his pads waltz across your skin until he finally finds it in himself to let go. “Still hungry?” He asks, helping you up. Ready to deny, your stomach rumbles loudly, giving you no time to privy it of its rights for yet another day. Doyoung simply nods with a smile, cocking his head to the entrance.

“Put your shoes on, let's see what's open at this hour.” “It’s very late to eat a big meal, Mr.Kim…”

The smile on his lips attempts not to falter at what you call him. Doyoung hated it with his entire soul. You weren't going to seize as long as he didn't seize treating you like Tina, like you're his stepdaughter too. Although, in this instant it's punishment for making you feel so ill and needy.

You want more, you crave more, but you can't have more.

It's odd to you how both can easily bask in the delicacy of tense intimacy and this… disgusting forced idea of a familial relationship at times. Especially when they would intertwine like it is now. You hate him for it sometimes. 'Coward' is what bounces in your head often when his touch lingers just to treat you like he treats Tina when his sick brain tells him to.

Regardless, Doyoung doesn't get to respond or scold, his bedroom door slams and Meghan has reached the kitchen watching as he crouches over you. She sees the dirtied napkin and your red lips. She sees his hand ghosting over your cheek and the (bitter) smile he had falters when his eyes land on her. While with you it was full of fondness and amusement (she believes), disgust greets her. She's been aware of it for a while now.

"Y/n go to your room." She demands lowly, her hands clinging to her sleeping pants. "No." Doyoung interferes, and like that day in his study, Meghan glares at him, offended by his insistence on speaking back to her like a child disrespecting their elders. "Go to sleep." She grits out, turning to you. You stand up, keeping a distance from Doyoung who immediately speaks. "Go put your shoes on, let's go get you something to eat."

Meghan's lips fall ajar. A scoff and slight cackle hearing his words and the soft look he shoots you. "Are you fucking serious right now?" She asks infuriated, walking closer and slapping his hand off of your arm which aided in stabilizing you when getting up.

"She's hungry, Meghan." Doyoung spits back, disgust building in his gaze. His wife shoots him a response with hers, almost saying "That's not my concern." but the words don't leave her for she knows it will push things further. It's futile, Doyoung scowls and his head slowly shakes the longer he looks at her. There it is, that disgust once again and it eats away at her.

"You told me she was asleep. I didn't take you for someone gluttonous." Meghan could only describe the brewing feeling as embarrassment and pure seething rage. Who did Doyoung think he was to confront her like this? Implication full of disgust and hitting her where he knew it hurt. More so in front of the one causing all the problems. With your faux naivety and innocent looks. With that cunning smile you shoot her when around him. Meghan knows what you are, she knows what men like and she's experiencing it before her eyes. Men are weak.

If you were to peak inside her head and heart, that obscure growing orb was nothing but rotting tar.

"Don't be insolent. Don't bring that up in front of her!" She spits out, "Y/n go to your room!" Disturbed by being undermined by two people she deemed lesser than her. Doyoung attempts to stop you again, his grip a bit harsher than before. You look at where his hand is. This is familiar, revoltingly so. You feel like a child in the middle of their parents' argument. Getting pulled left and right until they tear you apart stitch by stitch. It's painful in all senses and when Meghan opens her mouth to yell at her husband, you screw your eyes, shaking your head and freeing yourself from his grasp.

"I'll go. I'll go… I'll go. Please." You repeat like a mantra, hoping your words will make it all end. The latter begging them to not include you, to leave you alone and forget that your existence is brewing something between them.

You always wonder how Tina is able to sleep through this and not wake up from their screaming. They no longer attempt to hide the potency of their vocal chords nor their words. You know they talk about you when the muffled voices take over or when Doyoung tells her to lower her voice while she laughs maliciously about how much of a vile, disgusting, and infelicitous asshole he is. Otherwise, you know their problems stem from their joint resentment about the power dynamics.

When two people want the same thing at the same time, things are bound to burn over.

Doyoung didn't take long to walk out after she called him those names again. Throwing in his face that he's a pretentious brat with nothing worth fighting for. Meghan has found going against his upbringing to be successful in debilitating him. The only downside is that he loathes her more and more and respects her as much as she does him. Very little to null.

Sleep fleets away. Fear floods you with the idea that Meghan was capable of barging into your room any second now and reproach you for ruining her marriage. She doesn't tell you directly and neither do the other two in the house but her demeanor change is more than clear. Her warm smiles are officially gone, cold and resentful glares replace them. And she no longer cares that they call her out for ignoring you.

Her hugs are foreign to you and her food no longer is edible. That love she once poured into her meals is gone with her motherly instincts. It aches, horribly so. You've known her and Tina since you began your academic career. When your parents couldn't pick you up or take you to school, Meghan was there. Summers were spent with them like this one with the exception that they were the happiest memories.

You have Tina, you know that. She's your sister. Although, you would prefer to not see her argue with her mother about you or see them give each other the cold shoulder after. You don't want her relationship with her mother to worsen, that's the last thing you want but you can't control what people feel. You're aware of that, Meghan isn't.

It's 1:00AM when sleep finally comes back to you and you feel safe enough. The comforter brings you the warmth you're lacking but isn't able to fill your chest. Soft lamentable sighs have left your lips all night over how horrid this summer has turned.

A part of you blames Doyoung. His addition has ruined the balance the three of you had. His cowardice of accepting Meghan's punches and seeking her motherly care during those years blinded him of the bigger picture — it's quite obvious now, confirmation is all you needed.

The other part of you accepts that Meghan is a decrepit insecure woman who seeks power and control of anyone that isn't her and that fills you with both anger and hurt, feeling no immense remorse for threading around Doyoung the way you do. You're allowed to indulge yourself from time to time.

Meghan wants puppets, not family.

Immersed in your pity and vexation, you don't notice when your bedroom window opens. The latch closing is what makes you turn around startled. A dark figure creeping through the shadows, tall and slim. Fright replaces the sleep you felt, manifested in an attempt to scream until your mouth is hastily covered with warm clammy hands that you instantly recognize by the bony nimble fingers. Doyoung.

A finger to his lips, shushes you, he sits on the corner of your bed. You swallow, your head spinning and light front the freight he just caused you. When you relax, you shake your head with a silent laugh. "You scared me," 'Asshole' silently balanced on your tongue. "For a second you made me believe Nosferatu was real." You joke, "But that would mean an old hag has been haunting me for ages, and I just met you." He pats your cheek almost condescendingly without saying sorry but meaning it. At least you think he's sorry.

"Here." He smiles — the most he does to entertain you—, handing you a bag you hadn't noticed earlier. That may explain the sweet smell of warm blueberries waltzing through the room to sedate you and make you more receptive to what he offers. "You didn't have to." You protest, he meets it with a shake of his head and raises a hand letting you know to just be quiet and take it. He does it with a smile on his face and it irritates you but it's also very beautiful that you oblige. "Thank you." You croon, a smile involuntarily creeping on your face. He responds to your words with a caress of your cheek.

"I've told you to not call me Mr. Kim before, haven't I?" His words slow down your movement, smile faltering. "Is that not your name?" You quip, giving him a quick glance while cutting the waffle into squares. It's warm and soft, as he is. Unfortunately if it's left in the open for too long, it will harden and rot. As he will.

There's some tenderness in his gaze, muddled with the same irascibility Meghan looks at him with when he talks back to subvert her. It makes your eyebrows furrow while you slowly chew, it's an odd feeling. Unfortunately for you, he's smart enough to read a person and divert the conversation. It so happens to be that he doesn't do it with Meghan anymore because he enjoys seeing her peeved and red.

He's become so cynical. The things marriage does to you.

"Regardless, please don't call me that, you make me feel old." "You are old." Your teasing makes him gasp, jaw slack with semi-offense before ruffling your hair, destroying the braid. You laugh at his actions, successfully forgetting his earlier look.

"I'm only five years older than you!" He whisper-yells, offense still imprinted onto his being. "Then don't treat me like you're much older." Spoken in between laughs, your words do settle in his mind. Doyoung knows this happens often, it disgusts him but at the same time it keeps him morally sane.

Yes, he touches you more than he should. But he balances it out by indulging your childish attributes that make you act bubbly and younger around him.

Yes, he looks at you with rapidly growing attraction and lust. But he balances it by teaching you step by step on how to maintain perfectly taxidermied insects the way paternal figures do.

He understands and feels that underlying disgust. It's self-punishment for thinking about you when he is married despite loathing the woman. His attraction to you is punishment for that alone.

He should still remain a good man. He is a good man.

Until he learns to enjoy the power trip. He can somewhat understand his wife for that.

Coward.

His smile begins to lose its intensity, nodding while getting comfortable on your bed. He's receptive when you feed him squares here and there, making sure to look directly in your eyes when he takes them into his mouth. Lips wrapping around the black plastic fork and lapping at the syrup hiding between the backside grooves just to watch you immediately replicate his actions. It's a soothing dance, ego indulgent to know you take what he gives.

"Listen," You feed him again. "I'm sorry for earlier." He covers his mouth, "For continuing to put you in those situations, truly sorry." His hand goes up to his chest, his wedding band is gone, causing a warm feeling to brew in your stomach, manifested as an involuntary smile on your lips.

You shrug, nonchalantly as if it didn't matter when you knew it did. "Not my first rodeo." You mutter, feeding him the last bit before placing the tray on the nightstand. He looks at you, taking in your reactions and the stuck sigh that you finally release when he doesn't prod.

You never spoke of your own family. It was always Meghan and Tina this, Meghan and Tina that. At the beginning he wondered if they would be preoccupied knowing you were here, meeting a stranger despite being in safe hands. Yet after a month he noticed the conflicting projected emotions on your face when he spoke about his parents and how loving to each other they've always been. He could tell admiration and resentment were bigger emotions you carried. Now it does not surprise him that you're saying this. More so, it's confirmation.

"How did you even meet her, by the way? I just can't think of a scenario where you'd meet a woman like Meghan."

Curiosity and petulance lace your voice. He smiles to himself, taking your hand into his, reassured he was taking the right steps when you reluctantly relax against his touch. "My mom grew up in a house with four brothers. She always felt the need to prove she was as important as them. You know, rough housing, sports, academics, that sort of thing." He shrugs, "Futile because my grandparents loved and supported her no matter what she did. There truly was no difference in their treatment of the five — very progressive, they were. Kind of holistic— she simply made that rivalry up in her head."

You'd ask what any of this had to do with your question, but Doyoung likes to speak, he likes to speak about his parents. Even if it was a simple redaction.

"So she spent her entire life doing things that would put her far away from those related to housewives. Never learned how to cook, clean, gardening was her only token but that's because she was a botanist. My dad did everything else." He laughs, fond memories of seeing his dad in frilly aprons and pink mittens. He chose them, all the decor was his pick. Doyoung only ever lets you use them when you're in the kitchen.

"This was ten years ago, I was visiting them from college for the summer when I found she had created a crafts room out of this room." His free hand points around the walls of your room, wallpaper in a quilt design explaining it all. "She said she was too old to not know basic things like mending a hole in dad's socks or helping him with dinner. That he was getting old and weak too, it was a job for two to get anything out of the oven."

He hums, gaze on your interlocked hands. "So I drove her daily to these classes at the community center. That's when I first met Meghan, she was there to teach the classes. Nothing went past pleasantries and my mom joking about how I'd look good with Tina."

Selfish you are for letting vile manifest and spread through your chest when hearing those words. Tina… Tina couldn't handle Doyoung. They can't even stand to be in a room together without it being awkward. So selfish of you to make this about yourself, squeezing his hand scolding. He takes it with humor, feigning not noticing for the sake of his ego.

"Of course my mom didn't know Tina's age, when she realized how much younger she was, she stopped the jokes. They became somewhat friends, never seeing each other outside the community center to my knowledge. I didn't see Meghan for years after that but three years ago when my mom's Alzheimer's worsened and she had forgotten the difference between toxic versus non toxic liquids, she ended up poisoning herself by drinking insecticide. Later we found cleaning supplies with her lipstick on the mouth. It's at the funeral that I saw Meghan again and she was there for my dad and I…"

You didn't imagine this would take that turn. He always spoke so fondly of his parents like they were still around somewhere. Never said where but still around. You now realize it's their lingering presence around everything here.

"I'm sorry, Doyoung…" He dismisses you, shaking his head and kissing your hand. He's trying to control his labored breathing, warm and harsh against your skin, his hand clammy.

"Dad felt so guilty for it all. He taught about the development of the human brain, did neuroscience studies for the university and certain labs here and there all his life and he couldn't save his own wife. So… he left me too. He left for a study, who knows where and I haven't heard from him since." He smiles, a sort of bitterness that he didn't want to have for his father. Reluctance to accept that it was perhaps more than a trip. "Lawyers came days after he left, everything left to my name on both their ends. Meghan had been the only one to check in on me besides extended family but they live far away, there's not much they could do."

Guilt floods you. Why couldn't you just push back that desire to belittle Meghan more in your mind. The worst part is that your brain won't stop telling you that she only took advantage of his vulnerability. Sweet, vulnerable Doyoung who lost his parents in a span of weeks left to rot on his own with a huge house, assets, and a desire to give and give to anyone willing to comfort him. Convenient.

Doyoung hums, sitting up. The silence helps him admire you, or simply distract himself from this gushing open wound. The braid he destroyed, cascading over your shoulder. Shoulder covered in a thick light yellow lace strap with matching ribbons on the chest. He smiles noticing the small details, he recalls helping you sneak into Meghan's craft room to make that night gown. Fabric and ribbon he took from his mother's stash.

She would like you, he believes so.

"You've made good use of the marigold dye." Doyoung smiles, his hand reaching to touch the strap. His fingers dance over it, letting them touch your skin. It's cruel and mean but very elating. He's been playing this teasing game and unfortunately, it's you who wants it more. From then on, they inch closer to the ribbon. Fingers jumping on every spot and ending on the bow, delicately admiring it.

Truth be told he kept his touch there to feel the increase of your respiration. Chest moving up and down faster than previously. He smiles to himself, almost mischievously when he notices a new item around your neck. "The roses too… my mother would have been so content with you." He giggles, patting your cheek prior to giving himself the liberty to touch the rose beads that form a necklace.

She would like you, he's sure of it.

"Very ingenious, so good." Doyoung hums, his hand trails to hold your neck. You nod slowly, entranced in your humiliating arousal from just his touch. You feel pubescent, frothing at the mouth from one touch. Stupid. He's just another man… a man that coddles and holds you in secrecy. It's the forbidden excitement laced with guilt at how treacherous the human mind and body can be.

Clearing your throat, you look around, avoiding his gaze. "Yes, well, she has a lovely and fruitful garden… Greenhouse too, I found some purple cabbages from the spring season, they'd make a lovely dye." You divert but his touch doesn't fall, his other hand opts to join on your cheek, cradling it.

Instinctively you lean into it, forcing you to look at him. There's no teasing or patronizing looks on his end and you're thankful for it. It's full blown admiration and desire in those dark orbs that pull you closer to him while he caresses you. They allow themselves to rake your face. Every feature but most of all your lips and eyes, longing to land on your pupils as to bless whatever you see. On your forehead to reassure that he is your safe haven as you are becoming his. It oddly reminds you of the looks he gave when cleaning your feet before the accident. Like Mary Magdalene admiring her savior.

Doyoung thinks he is allowed this indulgence for once. He can punish himself after but he can no longer go without tasting your skin on his lips, he feels so famished. Letting out a shaky breath, he softly rises, bringing your head closer to him. Breath labored with every move and warm against your skin when he's mere centimeters from it. Shutting his eyes and pursing his lips, letting them fall on your eyelids.

Velvet and moist, that's how his lips feel. You sigh in relief, unaware you had been holding your breath. His lip travels to the other eyelid, it's quick unlike prior, for he rushes to kiss your forehead, lingering for as long as he can before letting out a content sigh of his own, and a liberated smile. He wants to laugh at how absurd he is being but that would only keep wasting time.

Doyoung is so close to your lips when he decides it is best to take the full risk, however you both hear the soft knocks against your door and the rattling of the doorknob. He can't describe the feeling as freight, more so irreverent wrath.

"Y/n? Y/n why is the door locked?"

Tina.

The man instantly pulls away. His touch burns you both and guilt manifests itself through blown out pupils — your own, not his. Your lips are ajar when he places his finger up to his own, like the way he entered your room and disappears the same way. He says nothing and neither do you, opening the door when he's not in view.

The doorknob continues to rattle until she feels the weight of your hand on it. You sigh heavily before opening the door, looking at her blankly which she notices but does not mention. She never does.

"I heard voices." "I'm watching a movie."

She hums. She believes you. She believes you. She does…

"Why was the door locked?" She asks, concern on her face. When your eyes divert from hers, she can tell something had gone on. You usually enjoy having her know everything about you. That's what best friends do, yet at the moment you loathe her for it. That's what sisters do. That gnawing disturbance of frustration and impotency. The type she's felt this entire summer break.

You simply hum, she giggles.

"How bad was it now?" She now finds humor in knowing she always sleeps through their arguments. It's not so funny to you. "Nothing special, I was in the kitchen when he stormed out then she followed behind and they went at it after I left." She giggles once more. Unsure now if it's because she actually finds it comedic or she doesn't know how to respond.

This is her mother and her happiness they're talking about. This is you, her best friend and your friendship on the line.

It’s not like you can tell her that her stepfather defending you from her mom for the millionth time isn’t pushing her into deeper hatred. It’s not like you can tell her that her mother purposely starved you for the day out of pure unadulterated jealousy because her husband desires you more than her. No, can you? No. Silence and lies will do.

"Hey, did you know how Meghan and Doyoung met?" You ask, looking at where had laid. Tina shrugs, "She told me they saw each other at a coffee shop from time to time and talked since then. She doesn't like coffee though." She shrugs again.

Oh Tina. Willfully ignorant and avoidant. Perhaps the story is right but you're sure that if Tina fully knew her mother had met doyoung ten years younger with baby fat still on his cheeks and younger than she is, her dilemma would only worsen. Coward.

Unlike Tina, Meghan didn't hesitate in barging in after a few minutes. It leaves you and her daughter dumbfounded when the angry look becomes bewildered and disappointed, like she had expected to find something (or someone) to prove her suspicions.

"Mom?"

Meghan acknowledges it with a sigh, "Go to sleep, it's late." Making you both feel ten again at one of multiple sleepovers during school nights. Tina responds with a nod. You, you look at her for any trace of something. There's worry, that's for sure. And there's also anger. Nothing new.

The front door is slammed downstairs, causing Tina to get a startled look on her face that is reassured when Meghan shakes her head, dismissively. She opens her mouth to calm her daughter when a disgusting thought tells you to do the talking for her. She deserves even this bit.

"It's Doyoung, don't worry."

And it's disturbing to Meghan that you spoke her thoughts, word for word while looking at her.

Meghan has gotten her confirmation for the night.

That night had given some clarity to Doyoung. Arguments with his wife seized for the most part and before they could begin, he was out the door for his nightly runs. That's what she believed at least. He tampered with his smartwatch to mark his steps knowing she would look through it.

Reality is that he crept up the trellis to your room. Spending the nights under the covers with earphones in, door locked, lights off, and a movie lulling you to sleep while getting a few whispered conversations in here and there. His lips or yours pressed against each other's ear. It was the closest to kissing you would get at.

When you do fall asleep, he tucks you in. Caresses your hair and kisses your forehead goodnight before crawling back down the trellis and entering through the front door. To continue his reality of being married to a woman that no longer treats him with the care he sought but at least he can provide it for you and that you've slowly been returning.

Doyoung has taken that into account and rewards you for it. The gifts were small at first, snacks that Meghan wouldn't allow into the house, books in your wish list. They later became more intricate. Your personal taxidermy and diaphonization kits (locked in his study), pendants of the critters utilized, a camera to document your process, and the most recent being two chickens and doves.

The animals irked his wife more than anything. She has spent the past two months arguing about tearing down the greenhouse and it only took you a mention of the excess of caterpillars and worms in there for him to bring in the chickens. You looked after them, sure, however the chickens with free range left their eggs and droppings everywhere. It felt intentional how she found them laying on her clean laundry, pecked her if they saw her, and worse off stained all of her fabric. They abhor her as much as she does them.

At least the bleeding-heart doves are lovely to look at despite their cold shoulder towards her. Tina gets a ruffle of feathers, you and Doyoung some crooning, and spooning among each other when it's you and him peering upon them. It's the small things that drive her deeper into her madness.

Like seeing you sit criss-crossed on the plush bright grass. It's dewy again, much taller now than it was before but he promised to mow soon. Right now he's too busy hammering in old nails onto stained wood and footprints —yours and his— to create a coup for the chickens. Not by her demand, no. He'd never take hers seriously, but yours.

"Diaphonized insects are horrid. They're all brown. I think I should give wet species a chance." Doyoung takes your words in, a simple chuckle looking at your pout. Petulant and spoiled. "Y/n, you're not drying them fast enough." He corrects, you shrug knowing he may be right but working with insects has bored you. "Either way, centipedes and spiders look disgusting in those vials."

The chickens flock around you, pecking the ground. Their clucking became louder, frustrated the longer they weren't able to obtain what they wanted. Doyoung gives them a quick glance, a fastidious kind of melody, one he isn't used to. Neither are you according to the stink eye you give them. It's pleasant to Meghan, leaning against the sink with peering bright eyes, it feels like justice for once.

It's a delicacy. Your desperate attempts to calm them down, Doyoung's hammering exasperating the chickens, and finally… A loud and pained screech from you, pushing away the hen that victoriously clucks as it swallows the culprit of your scream. One of the neighbor's centipedes.

Doyoung drops his tools, rushing to your aid. He watches you tumble, attempting to stand, however the aching sting and burn on your foot doesn't allow it. Meghan watches every movement from you both. Your disgruntled whines and moans, his shushes in an attempt to calm you down. Hands clasping around your feet, soothing the inflamed bump in hopes it did something. It didn't, it irritated the wound further.

"I told you the critters would recognize your feet." He jokes, scolding in the process. The stinging is intense enough that waspishly, you huff, pouting his way. "Nuh-uh." You reply, rolling your eyes when he throws in a glare. He shakes his head, finally sitting, his knees aching. Like the day you burnt your feet, he takes your feet in his lap, looking over the wound while your soles leave stains again.

He smiles to himself, an airy laugh as if he was coming up with something, fingers waltzing over the bite. "I told you to put shoes on, I won't always be here to help you." Smile turns into a grin, teasing as he lets his lips fall over the wound.

It stings. The warmth of his own flesh against the boiling fire of yours, it's not pleasant and you make it known. With the exception that it comes out strangled and pleasured. Much to his delight, making his lips part, tongue gracing the area just to add more pain and more pretty sounds to leave you.

It's an erotic image to anyone who experiences and sees it. Meghan feels the boiling pain in her chest, the same way you do on your foot. The only difference is that Doyoung won't attempt to soothe hers. He won't even acknowledge it.

Doyoung is looking up at you with a curling smile, lips pulling apart from your skin, eyes raking the expanse of your exposed thigh when the dress rode up. " Met with a harsh pull, Meghan reaches both of you, hands on Doyoung who stumbles to stand up. It's hard to decipher what her expressions read, all emotions coursing through like a bad acid trip, colors roaming around in a slew.

Anger, disgust, pain, defeat, resentment. It made no difference, it was all negative.

"How do you plan on defending this now, huh?" She asks, wavering voice when she looks between you two. "What could you possibly say to make this look normal, Doyoung?!" Her voice rose, startling Tina who had been in the entertainment room when she heard your scream. Like usual, she opts to remain where she's at. It's no use involving herself when she's known how this would all end since the beginning.

"Sucking the venom out, Meghan. Fuck me, why do you have to make everything so salacious?" Doyoung grits, a tone she had not fallen for years ago.

His speech and tone has changed within these months. He no longer spoke like a poised character, he spoke like you. He smelt like you and his quirks adapted to yours. Doyoung was no longer Meghan's and that's a fact she's finding difficult to deal with. Similar to how parents aren't able to understand the autonomy of a child as they grow.

Frustratingly so, his response made sense to her. She's seen it in movies, she's read about it — so she thinks. Unfortunately for her, this was only a sting, like a mosquito or a bee sting, something that will subside with ointment just like your burns weeks prior. There was nothing to suck out nor was it recommended.

"How convenient." She scoffs. Meghan hated how upset she was. She knew this was bound to happen and why she kept her relationship hidden from you for the past two years.

Meghan knew your interests, knew your beliefs, and knew you her entire life. She knew how drawn everyone instantly is to you and woefully, she knew Doyoung would be one of those people too. She was proven right the first day when she saw him approach you on that swing and converse so easily. Touch you so easily…

It never got better as the days went by. Why was it so easy for him to cave and give you a room? A room meant for her hobbies. A room meant for hobbies, as his mother had wanted. Why did he allow you into his study without hesitance when she could only remain for five minutes or so? Why did he have to please you by offering dinner? It's been a while since he's taken her out to dinner. Yes, it was wrong of her to privy you of basic needs but earlier in the day she had seen you so content in that stupid greenhouse and understood fully why he kept refusing to tear it down besides grief. You kept it alive just like his mother did.

Her jealousy doesn't outweigh her disdain for being undermined. Like a person working night and day, loyal to one job for years on end and aging throughout them to be replaced like nothing by a new set of fresh meat. A kick to the rear and a big "Fuck you, you're no longer useful and too old for us to care about your opinion." That's how her relationship with Doyoung felt when he met you.

When they started dating, Doyoung sought her sweet reassuring words and pet names. Her gentle touches and pats when he did a good job. Her comforting food and the affection she gave Tina. It was pleasant, she knew what he wanted all along and she was more than willing to give it to him as long as he reciprocated her own desires. Surrendering control and devotion.

Those things no longer belonged to her. His devotion shifted to you —she's witnessed it on multiple accounts— and control is his again. That's one way of looking at things. He moves her and Tina into his home, doesn't let her make any changes and instead rubs it in her face that you adore the house and its quirks. His house and his quirks.

If everything reminded her already of his parents, it now reminds her of you too and how much more power ghosts and a child have rather than her.

Meghan scoffs and huffs every now and then while rebutting his arguments. He mimics them to show her how absurd she is being. It's a never ending cycle they've grown comfortable with but that needs to stop. This isn't what either signed up for when they legally bound their love. If you can even call it that, it's more than clear both were pitifully lonely and disturbed.

"Are you even hearing yourself, seriously?" Doyoung sighs, offended at the implications she kept throwing at him. His thoughts may be vile and depraved when it comes to you but he's punished himself enough. Meghan doesn't seem to understand that while he now recognizes he never did love her, rather sought the affection of a mother, he was bound to honor those vows.

But he was only a man and men are weak.

Meghan has double the years of experience he does and she knows that if you ever stop seeing her with those same eyes Doyoung once saw her with and which Tina is bound to by the universe's request, and gave him free reign, he'd take the opportunity without a thought.

"No, are you hearing yourself? Better yet, do you see what you do?!" She glares, "You enable her to do whatever she wants. Parade around my home as if it was hers. Make a mess of the floorboards, lock herself with you in that stupid study, for what? Your disgusting bugs? Really, Doyoung it's odd how much time you two spend together, you don't even spend that time with your own stepdaughter, neither of you have spent time with Tina. She’s supposed to be Tina’s best friend."

Doyoung felt his frontal lobe develop for the second time in his life. Stepdaughter… Fuck, he was only thirty with a twenty-five year old stepdaughter. Does anyone see how disturbing and odd this fucking is? No, he definitely cannot stay in this for much longer.

"And you know what? Jesus, you're acting like a fucking brat yourself." She scoffs. "The longer you spend with her, the more immature you become. Genuinely, what use was it for your parents to give if you're going to act like a child." She shrugs.

"Don't even bring my parents into this, fuck off." Doyoung disturbed glares at her. "Don't fucking do that. It only seems that way because you hate when anyone is better than you. Smarter and secure than you, get a grip, Meghan. Don’t forget that I’m closer to her age than yours. I’m allowed to be childish, remember that… Don't fucking bring them up ever again."

He was right but that's exactly what she hated most.

"Honestly Meghan," Dumbfounded, Doyoung sighs, hands rubbing upon his face exhausted. "You've known Y/n longer than me. If you don't plan on trusting me, at least trust her. What kind of mother are you if you can't offer her that?"

His tone quickly twisted into condescension, the sheer feeling of being talked down upon by someone who knows nothing about life irking her furthermore and the slight consideration that gnawed at the back of her head was ultimately consumed by that twisted rotten tar in her soul.

"Well she isn't my daughter is she?" Meghan spews without thinking. "She's not my fucking daughter. Not by blood, not metaphorically, nor by law. Tina is my daughter and you know what my daughter doesn't do? Throw herself at my shithead of a husband like any other hussy does!" Her hands meet with his shoulders multiple times, abrasive like every word. No regard that those words were loud and clear for you who remained on the grass and Tina in the entertainment room with the TV on full blast. No longer able to hide and ignore like she's done all along.

Doyoung doesn't mind the contact or the harsh words towards him. What he does mind is her rejection of motherhood. Yes, she's correct to an extent, however how harsh must one be to deny the impact their motherly doting has left on a young and impressionable child? He has fairly understood your restraint and guilt after each encounter is interlaced with your respect towards Meghan and now all he can think about is how that shattering reality will affect you.

Will affect him…

It's disgust and resentment that meets Meghan— she takes it with pride. It's empathy that meets you when he turns to face you. Seeing the instant heartache aflame in your eyes and through the cracks of your chest.

Pity is what you take it as. Disturbed by such, you stand up, the walk of shame towards that stupid greenhouse his wife detests so much. A soft shut is what makes him turn back to Meghan, disdain so palpable that Tina can feel it as she peers through the window. Relenting to the reality she's been trying to avoid these months. It's odd to be a background character in something that affects her directly. She knows there's more to come and when it's done, she'll have two options, only one right answer.

Her mother or her best friend… her sister.

Their words are muffled on the further end of the greenhouse. You imagine this is what Tina would hardly hear in her slumber and it was nice to an extent. You've always admired her discipline. You can't say you admire it now, many of those arguments could have been prevented if she spoke up about her discomfort towards her mother dating a man near her age, a man that sought the affection she was given. A grieving man.

Tina was disciplined but she was also a coward just the way Meghan wanted her to be. The way Meghan wanted all of you to be. Fearing yet adoring her. Devout like a disciple to their God.

Meghan was nowhere near a God. She was closer to a pathetic haggard with no accomplishments in life besides her daughter's, living vicariously through her. She attempted to do the same with Doyoung and it may have worked for a while. She soon realized that she couldn't do such a thing with someone that's always had more opportunities than she's had.

Doyoung had two loving parents his entire life. Just like you.

Regrettably, they weren't able to be near him as much as he would have liked them to be due to their career. Just like you.

However, they provided no matter what — even in the after life — and it showed throughout the house and the love he still holds for them. Their presence is felt in the grooves of doorknobs she replaces, the carvings on the wooden doors she plans on modernizing, the stained windows she'll break, the chips on the kitchen island she will fix, the garden with horrid flamboyant flowers that are eaten away by pests, and that ghastly greenhouse with plants that pretentiously have to mean something.

There's no grasp of control in a house that is meant to exude security, love, and reassurance. No grasp if she's not the one to plant that seed.

Fortunately for you, the house welcomed you in and now you don't care how much you rub it in her face. This was meant for you and if she thought of you as the complete opposite of what she's groomed you into, you'll let the entire world know that Doyoung and everything she wanted to obtain is yours by prophecy.

"How's your foot?" The soft voice that greets you nightly approaches you, his warm fingers taking your shoulder, spinning you around and forcing the pen in your hand to drop. The solemn look on your face and the exaggerated pout makes him sigh, your shrug forcing his touch away. "Better."

Doyoung nods as a response, approaching and taking you in a tight embrace to reassure you that it was all going to be okay, that Meghan was nothing but bitter and defeated.

"I'm sorry…" He whispers against your hair, leaving kisses here and there. Your sigh, tightening his embrace. "It's not you who said it." You expel, burying your head in his chest the way your doves do. He kisses your head again, reward for such a sweet action.

"But it's my fault she did." "It doesn't matter now."

Doyoung peels away as much as he can without breaking the embrace. His eyes search yours for a hint of sadness, however all he can see is fiery anger and vindictiveness.

His hand takes your cheek, both warm and soft. "It does..." He hums, "You know it does." Eyebrows furrowed, concerned with how easily you've given it up. He knew you'd be upset but relent is not what he expected. No, he does not like this.

You pout, grip on his torso tightening to leave the feeling of your touch lingering for as long as it could. "It'll pass."

Doyoung truly didn't know how to fix this on his own, it's not his duty to do so either. Yet, the last thing he wanted was to see you upset over the words of someone so vile who did not deserve any strong emotion conveyed. Prior times he was able to pacify you with his gifts or embraces, nowadays it's been a bit harder.

"Will it?" "It has to. I'll have time to mourn later."

Mourn.

Doyoung thinks about the last time he allowed himself to mourn. He wonders if you'll follow in his footsteps and ignore it, falling in the embrace of a rancid older person who will only take advantage over the loss of a profound relationship. He doesn't want you to do that, you should seek comfort in the arms of someone who can oddly comprehend you despite the hierarchy being completely different.

It should be him.

Decidedly, Doyoung leans in, like that first night in your room. His lips don't linger above your features or your lips like last time. This time he dives in, taking your lips into his in a slow and tender kiss. You reciprocate it instantly, holding onto him for dear life, afraid to be tossed around once more.

Your lips part slightly, seeking air although inviting him further in. Doyoung moans into the kiss when your hands creep under his shirt, they're peculiarly cold for such a hot summer. Alluding to the death that floods you from Meghan's rejection. He can tell you're replaying her words over and over every time your kisses get hungrier. Tongue overlapping his and savoring him further. Fingernails raking his smooth pale back. He'd be glad to parade those pink streaks, it's the least he could do.

He wasn't far off. It's interesting how easy one can hate someone they've loved for so long. All you had in mind was punishing Meghan for what she just said. She's killed you. She's killed that little girl that looked up at her like a mother. Mother's are supposed to be nurturing and kind. But like she's said, she doesn't owe it to you. You're not her daughter, never were.

Cruel, cold, and a bitch she was. You could be that too, you've become aware of it with every cold shoulder and scowl from her. You'll be what she truly sees you as if that'll make her happy.

Men are weak, you've known this too. She's taught it to you. So why not start proving it with her husband? Giving him that chance everyone knew he awaits.

Your hands warm up the longer they roam around his torso, ripping the buttons off his shirt. He doesn't seem to care, not when it's a piece Meghan made him. "Will you make me feel better, Doie? Will you help me forget? I think we both need to forget?" You whisper against his lips, his labored breathing mixing with yours, chasing your lips as a response.

He whines like a pet being denied a treat, teased and laughed at. To satiate him, you peck his lips, nipping them and earning another whine, pleased this time. He nods fervently, his own hands grasping your body, making sure you're here with him.

Swollen lips leave open mouthed kisses along his jaw, trailing to his throat. Nipping softly at the taut skin. He hisses and gasps here and there but he never pushes you away. He takes what you give, just like you.

Thankful for such, it's time you take a bite of that apple, rotten and all.

Doyoung groans when he feels your teeth cling to his Adam's apple, fingers pressing into your own skin. His body is now cold, similar to how your hands were at the beginning, it's infectious but delicious. He needs more of whatever you give him. Greedy, greedy, greedy.

It's easy to read his mind, the way those eyes look at you, ten times more intense than before. Enough to push you into creating a trail down his torso, similar to the stream of sweat that clung to him that first day you met. This felt nice against his cold skin. The warmth of your mouth and delicacy of lust intermingled into making his groin harden. You notice the need, fingers clumsily toying with the belt buckle until it's gone.

You tease here and there, fingers clinging to the hem of his underwear, scratching above his pubic hair and making him hunch over, only stopped by the feeling of your forehead on his exposed torso, purposefully giggling to have your breath tickle his greedy skin.

"It tickles." He utters, looking down at you with blown pupils. You smile, looking up at him with wide eyes, pressing your knuckles into his skin. "Better?" You question, he grins and nods.

You use his shirt as a cushion underneath your knees, it's futile and barely aids but it's better than bare concrete. Seeing there was no use to taunt him any longer, your fingers crawl within his underwear, grasping the phallic in much need of attention. He hisses feeling your grasp, it's soft but firm, tugging him out brusquely on purpose. He liked that.

Doyoung pants, attempting to control his breathing. It's been so long since he's been touched, any time Meghan attempted he was flooded with disgust and self hatred, pushing her off when she aimed to at least kiss him. He could live with it, believing his sex drive had died before you came into the picture. But with you around the house and him 24/7, it was becoming very difficult to do anything about his increased sex drive.

"You're so hard… When's the last time you had any action?" You ask casually, hand rhythmically rocking against his shaft, thumb collecting any drop of pre-come to smear against him. He's reluctant and embarrassed to answer but your sweet smile is so convincing that he responds with a guttural moan.

"I see." You hum, kissing his tip as a reward, eliciting another moan. Masturbating in the shower was not enough. Sometimes Meghan tried to get in there with him and it would make him flaccid immediately. It seemed the only times he could ever relieve himself was in the comfort of his study. His favorite times when you and Tina took advantage of the pool and sun bathed with his research papers in hand. That excited him most, the image of you in a skimpy swimsuit in front of his window and reading his thoughts on a subject you couldn't care for as much but would take just because it was made by him. You took anything he gave you.

The memory alone made him twitch in your hand, a giggle leaving your pretty lips. Like this, he would get so much harder like this. "I get it, Doie. I won't stall any longer." You relent, leaning further to take him in your mouth. The damp and warm cavity force a moan out of his own, holding onto your hair as he throws his head back. Fuck, he's been craving this for so long.

Doyoung feels his ears ring. His own breathing along the squelching of your throat floods them. He thinks this is heaven, although he doubts an act like this would allow any of you in. Right, it wouldn't. Not after you both submit to the temptation of forbidden fruit. But it's better this way, what fun is there in being a garden when you can't have what makes you feel good? Even if it is a sin.

He relishes in the feeling of your mouth around him, head bobbing on its own despite your free hand giving him permission to push as much as he wants. Your tongue swirls around his cock, pressing firmly against the veins and dancing around the rest. It tickles, but he's sure you're aware. It is your favorite game after all.

He looks as pretty as the first day you met him. Beads of sweat rolling down his face, forcing his hair to frame and emphasize those pretty features of his. His ragged moans sound like those of an angel, pushing you further down his cock. It feels suffocating, he's not as girthy but he is long and it makes it much harder to push through. Even so, you want to be good for him, you've always wanted to be. This forces you to push through, gagging a few times but persevering until your nose hits his pubic bone.

Doyoung feels elated at this new found feeling. Your throat is so tight and warm, it feels like a reward for all he's endured. Sadly for him, it's torn apart, gifting him with an image of you teary eyed, gasping for air and a mixture of come and spit threading you both. He couldn't think he could get any more hard but this image alone makes him spurt pre-come onto your chin.

You give him a quick glance, smiling sweetly at him. "Close?" You ask, "You can come in my mouth, Doie." You utter, leaning in to take him in. He closes his eyes feeling your mouth around him again, dizzy and seeing stars. He feels the breeze enter from the windows of the greenhouse, whirling around you both. He finds that his body is no longer cold, it's scorching as yours.

Doyoung didn't think he could be so overstimulated before coming, it may be with the fact that he hasn't been touched for so long or how one of your hands clutches his into your hair, yanking to feel arousal from the sting. He swears can see a bead of your wetness roll down your leg when he looks down at you, cursing and bucking forward.

It hurts, you won't lie but that is exactly what made you keep taking him and pulling back out. The strain against your throat elating until he finally took it within himself to do as you wanted. His jutting forward with a harsh grasp on your hair, fucking your face and forcing you to gag while one of your hands plays with his testicles, only pushing him to go faster. Your other hand pushing aside your soiled panties and playing with your clit. It's a slick sticky mess, uncomfortable at best but the feeling alone does enough for you.

Doyoung mutters curses here and there. Pretty words too which you receive with moans that make him increase the pace. Both of his hands are on your hair when he finally feels himself spill in your mouth. His moan is so loud you wouldn't doubt that anyone outside of the greenhouse could hear him. You squeal, taken by surprise and also feeling yourself suffocate. Even when he's still inside of you, some of his come spills from the sides of your mouth, rushing out like water from a broken dam when he rips himself apart from you.

He feels out of it, trying to calm himself after such an intense orgasm as you are. Head thrown back, gasping for air without spilling any come still in your mouth. When you think you're stable enough, he helps you up. Kissing your soiled cheeks and licking his lips to savor himself. The image makes your pupils dilate. Taking himself in like it was melted ice cream, without a care. No one is as receptive to taste themselves but he was.

You hadn't come yet, and this image only made you want to reach that high more and more. Doyoung cluelessly smiles at you, appreciative of what you've done. It's wiped away when you take his face into your hands, kissing him. Instinctively, his lips part, allowing you to push his own cum into his mouth from yours. He's taken aback but weirdly aroused.

Narcissistic, egocentric, or whatever anyone wants to call it. It does not change the fact that Doyoung immediately hardens at the taste of himself mixed with the taste of your spit. The sweet tones of the lingering chocolate you two ate with the saltiness of his orgasm. Similar to a disgusting and corrupted salted caramel dark chocolate. It's not for everyone but it is meant for you two.

Hastily, he helps you up on the data table. Pulling down your wet panties and rubbing them along his hard and aching cock. He moans into the kiss, ragged and needy while he jerks himself off to increase the feeling. His tongue mingling with yours, swirling his come around both your mouths until it becomes warmer and lesser.

Fingers intertwined in your hair, tugging to hear more of you. Desire to hear more and more leads to shaking nimble fingers to trail the inside of your thighs. He smiles into the kiss feeling the scorching warmth within. Claiming and begging to be touched. He's no cruel man, not all the time at least, so he grants you this reward after all the ones you've given him.

Slowly, his ring and middle finger enter you easily with the slickness he's caused. The intrusion causes you to moan against his mouth this time, giving him the advantage to nip your tongue. It doesn't take Doyoung long to allow his fingers to move within you, pumping relentlessly to hear your pretty sounds. Guttural with the remaining come you two interchange.

You've always thought he had pretty fingers, since you met. Purposefully scraping yourself and staining your feet with grass to have him touch you. Nimble, long, and delicate enough to curl within your walls and cause a shiver down your spine. With the length, it doesn't take him long to reach your sweet spot. His pistoning motion and curl forcing cries and withering beneath him. Doyoung isn't as cruel or sadistic but this… he can understand why sadism exists.

Your legs don't seize to shake, a sheer layer of perspiration coating your body and face. He needs to let you finish, he just has to. It's not long until your body gives out, you need this or you'll probably pass out on this table alone.

But Doyoung allows himself to indulge that sadism he's contemplated for the past few minutes – enjoying his contradiction on cruelty. Halting his moves and ripping his hand away, taking the last drop of remaining come into his mouth to greet you with a cheshire grin as you look at him in surprise and betrayal. Every nerve in your body stings you left and right, punishing and taunting you for the lost glory.

"What the actual fuck?!" You gasp, looking at him, panting harshly with a body ready to explore from heat and desire.

He doesn't respond, letting the come and his spit trickle down to his glowing red cock, slacks and underwear pooled around his ankles. Now that his mouth is free, he chuckles. "Had to save some for lube." He shrugs, positioning himself between your legs. He kisses your cheek reassuringly, rubbing the come around him until he pushes within you. It feels different than his fingers and your mouth for the both of you. Surely, nothing will ever be as good as the actual thing.

Doyoung doesn't move just yet. Allowing you to get comfortable while he contemplates on whether you should leave the red gingham dress on. It's too pretty and he was there when you made it. Meghan had hated when you told her he allowed you to use his mother's machine and fabric. She hated that you were taking over her on her own craft.

Hm… yes, just for that he'll let you keep it on.

"Come on, Doie… Fuck me as hard as you can." You lean in, whispering against his ear, biting his earlobe. That was enough incentive for Doyoung to begin thrusting. It's slow but hard at first, setting the pace. It doesn't take long for him to quicken it, increasing your moans with it. You hold onto him tightly as he pounds into you. So deep into the pleasure of being full again that neither of you speak.

Legs pushed wide open against the table, his glute muscles flexing with every hard stroke. He kisses you here and there, licking away the beads of sweat from your neck like a starved animal in need of more.

The taste of your skin drives him insane, nipping and licking until he reaches your breasts. Pushing down the fabric of the dress to take one into his mouth. Engulfing it, harsh suction that leaves you wanting more. His teeth aren't as kind to your nipples but you don't mind as long as he is well fed. As long as you're able to please him.

"You feel so good, Y/n… I won't ever be able to get enough of you." He pants, thrusts hardening, hips swiveling to get closer to you, enough that his pubic bone creates friction against your needy clit. That intensifies the feeling that pushes you further into an orgasm. Doyoung feels it when you squeeze around him and moan his name like a mantra, pulling at his hair like he's done to yours.

"Please… I've been good. Please, let me come, Doie." You beg, implore. You couldn't handle it any longer. He's come once before, when this is finished, he'll have two orgasms. Yet all you have is aching, an overdue orgasm that will knock you out soon if you don't release it.

Pretending to ponder your prayer as he harshly pounds into you, lips consuming yours. Tongue gracing yours in search for a sliver of his come's taste still lingering within you. It's not as evident as before but he eventually finds it, smiling into the kiss and nodding.

"Let it go, baby." He croons, shushes leaving his lips as he keeps fucking you. His permission setting your body free that each thrust makes you feel so sensitive and it's not until he reverts back to those initial harsh and deep thrusts that you squeal and moan loudly. Clinging to his body for dear life while your legs spasm and come around him. The image sends him into his own orgasm. Feeling your body tremble against his while you cry out in pleasure from something he's caused. It's beautiful and if possible, he'd have you as the main piece with those pretty red ribbons you love so much on your hair, surrounded by his taxidermy as the main attraction because you're precious enough to preserve.

The thought peeves him but he won't dwell, not when you still feel so warm and good around his spent cock.

"Has she ever made you come this much?" You ask between giggles, looking at the pool of cum seeping into the wooden table and dripping onto the concrete floor. Doyoung groans remembering his reality. "No. I don't even touch her, why do you think there's so much?" He glowers, shaking his head in the process. "I don't want to think about her. Not now… with you so pretty and open for me." He grins, leaning in for a kiss.

You hum against his lips, wrapping your arms around him. "All this come for me?" You question sweetly, faking naivety, he nods, a light chuckle. "Only you have made me feel so alive and hot." He utters, burying his face in your chest, kissing your tits slowly.

A content sigh leaves you, eyelids fluttering, a malicious grin when you look forward.

There she is, five feet away with a dull and dead look on her face, Meghan.

"I bet." 

taglist: @ant-onie @cookydream @luv4rj @bacons-thighs @ilikekpop-c @valentinetown @bluedbliss @shiningnono @parkitonandy @the-universe-in-you-jjh @slut4hee @yukisroom97 @ddolbyong @bananinhazz @weiweific @sugaringgcaramel @sweetdreamczennie @revlada @shadysnoopyy @neostraytiny @suhwife @the-divine-femme-fatale @flaminghotyourmom @fatbixchwithanopinion @mi1kteaa @deny4l4 @aliexsblog

cant tag: @junmyeonssushi @moonlitmousee @ks1ut @kyungsooislifeu @hwangful @toodleeee @squishysweetricecake @numberoneprincessenthusiast

feel free to join the immoral tales taglist, form in anthology masterlist! ☆

[racew1nn3rs]

─ 𝘚𝘌𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘚, 𝘚𝘌𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘚 🫀

max verstappen x singer!fem reader // smau

⤷ summary: when max verstappen starts commenting on the posts of the beloved singer y/n l/n, fans are confused and less than enthusiastic at the new friendship. what they could never expect is just how long they've been 'friends'...

based on this request <3

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liked by sabrinacarpenter, maxverstappen1, and 46,908 others

tagged sabrinacarpenter

ynusername my new album is now officially out on all platforms! thank you so so much for all of the love and support, and special thanks to sab for her feature on the song <33 love u bb girl 🫦🫦 now that the album's out, tour next!!! see you all soon!

23,560 comments

user1 THE ALBUM OUT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL PEOPLE THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

user2 i cannot be normal about this i fear

user3 ik her back hurts from CARRYING the music industry on her back 😩

user4 hey so WHO TF IS SO AMERICAN ABOUT?? A LOVE SONG

user5 y/n writing a love song in god's year of 2024... wow

user6 y/n in the top 10 charts, fork found in kitchen

user7 sabrina and y/n are never beating the gf allegations

ynusername damn right we're not 😏

user7 HOLY SHIR HOKY SHIT HOKST SHUT

user8 y/n's in love and it's not with me, hanging myself as we speak

user9 the comment is gonna get reported but so real op

user8 can't a woman hang herself in peace 😣

user10 album's such a banger i had this shit bumpin at my grandmas funeral 🙏🏼 rest in piece nancy 🕊️💪🏻

user11 OH MY GOD???

user12 rest in piece nancy you would've loved make you mine 😔

ynusername oh my god please tell me your joking

user10 sorry queen the grind never stops

ynusername NO SHOT

maxverstappen1 great album! 👍🏼

user13 why does he text like my father 🧍🏻‍♀️

user14 brother eughh

user15 what da hell is a polar bear doin in arlington texas

ynusername thank you max!!!

user16 y/n l/n to redbull in 2025

user17 hellurrrrr who is this man in ur likes y/n

user18 f1 driver!!

user17 Y/N NO ATHELETES PLEAEJEWK 🫵

user18 tour content soon??? i'm sat

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user19 bro looks like he snuck onto earth, get his ass outta here

user20 grammy-award winner, vogue cover model, new york university graduate and Some Fucking Guy

user21 not y'all coming to her defense like the mighty morphin power rangers 💀💀 he's literally a world class athete and she writes pop music

user20 17.172.224.47

user21 IS THAT MY IP ADDRESS??

user20 melinda charleton

user22 IS THAT HIS MOTHER'S NAME!!?1?1!

user20 you want me to do you too???

user22 no we good 😃

user23 ruth bader ginsberg did not die for this

user24 now wtf does this have to do with babe ruth 🤨

user25 WHOOOOO 😧

user24 ... that wasn't right was it

user26 now let's be fr he does NAWT have a chance

user27 have u seen the marble-carved  goddesses these men pull, i fear he does 😔

user28 please no i feel ill

user29 TWO???? OH HELL NAW

user30 two might be pushing it, only one was confirmed

user31 jesus christ

user32 first taylor, now this

user33 yall, all he commented was great album 💀💀 yall are LEAPING to conclusions

user34 what can i say it's an art

user35 i do not see 👁️👄👁️

user36 no like 💀💀 im in your walls

user37 haha max verstappen!! right!!! (theres a sniper at ur location)

user38 omg ur so right 🤩 it is about him (i have a bomb strapped to my chest)

user39 i dont mean to sound stupid, idk who that man is, if i saw him on the streets i wouldnt know a thing 🥱

user40 this is so random too like what 😭

user41 the power of kindness won't work here, i have to throw him off a building

user42 i used to be a max verslsjjwwo lover 🤩 now im just a max verslsjjwwo hater 😔

user43 NURSE 🫵 SHE'S OUT AGAIN

user44 why would u put that into the universe 😧

user45 alright, lets get you to bed grandma

user46 mari stop being delusion and go touch grass 🧍🏻‍♀️

user47 ENOUGHHHH

user48 ain't no way in hell 😭

user49 ik ur feet hurt from all this jumping to conclusions babe

user50 lets leave the parkour to the athletes 😃

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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 54,789 others

ynusername italy thanks for letting me be inside you (; it was such a lovely show, expect me back asap!!!!

15,267 comments

user51 IT WAS SO GOOD I THNK I BLACKED OUT THE WHOLE TIME THO

user52 oh!

user51 oh so now this isn't a safe space

user53 LANDO AND MAX IN TGE LIKES??? NO NO NO NO

user54 ABORT ABORT ABORT

user55 y'all are doing too much 🙄 she's one of the top artists in the world, i think it's safe to say they might like her music

user56 the second picture 🧎🏻‍♀️do you need a stool cause i can kneel and be really quiet

user57 y/n fans be normal challenge (impossible!!!) (never done before)

user56 WOMP WOMP

maxverstappen1 wonderful show! 🙏🏼 you are so talented

ynusername ty max (: im glad you could come see me

user57 ain't NO WAYYYYYY

user59 THIS IS SIXKENJNG IM GONNA PUKE

sabrinacarpenter my gf looking sexy 🫦🫦🫦

ynusername only for u bbg 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

user60 BOOOO 🗣️ GET A ROOM

user61 do y'all need a third!!!!

user62 mamma mia pizza pasta mozzerella moment

user63 i just put u on a watchlist

user62 🧍🏻‍♀️

landonorris RAHHHHHH 🦅🫵🗣️‼️

ynusername RAHHH RAHHH RAHHH RISE POWER POWER 💪🏻‼️

user63 what the fuck

user64 OH GOD WHAT IF SHES DATING HIM????

ynusername brother eughhhh

landonorris WHAT THE FUCK????

user65 SINCE WHEN IS SHE FRIENDS WITH F1 DRIVERS HOW MANY CHAPTWRS DID I MISS

user66 apparently we all went into a universal coma while she was out galavanting cause idk how else this could've happened

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maxverstappen1 posted to his story!

(caption: beautiful show)

22,456 replies

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user67 someone save my girl bro, she don't know any better 😭

user68 it's like a little kid trying to touch the hot stove, LIKE STOP THAT!! DON'T DO THAT

user69 am i the only one who thinks they'd be cute together....

user70 YES!?!?

user71 there is literally no fucking way he bagged her

user72 losing y/n to european f1 driver would be the biggest american tragedy since 2001

user73 i had to read this shit twice, op what r u waffling abt 🫵😧

user74 can't even be nonchalant about this one bro, i'm chalanting hard asf

user75 we do not care

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liked by redbullracing, f1, and 78,567 others

tagged maxverstappen1

ynusername first time in monaco, safe to say i enjoyed myself! so happy to see you shine this time my love<3

25,788 comments

user76 oh. my. fucking. god

user77 THEYRE FUCKING DATING OH MYFODNSJ

user78 THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE MEEE MAKING YOU LAUGHHH 🎤

user79 i'm in mourning

sabrinacarpenter CHEATER 🫵

ynusername BABY IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE, IT WAS JUST ONE TIME 😣😣😣 IT WAS A MISTAKE

maxverstappen1 we've been dating for 2 years??

sabrinacarpenter SHUT UP FAST & FURIOUS NO ONE ASKED YOU

user80 i'm sorry 😃 two Y EARS

user81 i feel like i just got dumped. y/n don't do this, the kids need you 😔

maxverstappen1 i got p1 for you, i love you 🫶🏼

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hope you all enjoyed! please let me know your thoughts and feel free to leave a request for me to write something for your fav <3

[sajaboys]

KPOP DEMON HUNTERS (2025) ⊱ rp prompt

change pronouns and adjust as needed.

you will be so much more than that.

demons have always haunted our world.

that duty falls to you.

that victory is within your reach.

that's not even a real number.

there's no water in these.

how can you be late?

i didn't even get to finish my ramyeon!

why do they always interrupt our snacking?

they will face my wrath!

now you gotta die.

ugh, you came at a bad time.

you just crossed the line.

i understand you are weak.

and you dare to mock me with it?

i'm not here to mock you.

i'm here to help you.

it's time for a new strategy.

what makes you think that could work?

you've never done a single thing that didn't serve yourself.

that was weird.

we already have plans.

i can't wait to eat kimbap and stare at the ceiling.

sounds super boring. i'm so down.

we literally just sat down.

i can handle this. i'm not having a nervous breakdown.

you always say no.

you sound exactly like her.

no. we gotta hide and fix it.

earthy and herby. smells legit to me.

hurry, before someone sees us.

in order to heal a part, we must understand the whole.

you have a lot of walls up.

watch yourself.

they're not even that cute.

i'm gonna throw up.

no, it's too public.

don't eat that!

let's go kill these guys.

hard to say goodbye when we're having fun.

make it stop.

wow. did you really follow us here?

we're not here to fight.

whoa! mind the face.

surprisingly, your plan is working.

it's a lot more serious than i thought.

is that bird wearing a tiny hat?

wow, i wasn't expecting a hug, but ...

i thought the mannequin was gonna be a fun icebreaker. but i see i was wrong.

hey! i just wanna talk.

but first, i wanna talk about those pants.

you were supposed to be dead.

i could've told your friends what you are.

that's none of your business.

i know what it feels like to have them.

is that what you think?

you're not good enough for them.

you know you can tell me. i'll understand.

i'm nothing like you.

denial. i get it.

i'll be here when you're done pretending.

there won't be a next time.

are you a prisoner too?

thanks for having my back.

we keep meeting like this.

i didn't think you liked sharing.

should i tell them?

i'm gonna tell them. eventually.

are you whispering?

your secret's safe with me.

i'm helping myself.

i'm pretty good at reading people. actually, i'm kind of an expert at it.

i just can't shake this feeling that you're keeping something from me.

i'm not keeping anything rom you.

sorry, i sound nuts.

yeah. eternal suffering. sounds fun.

you made me come all the way out here so you could jumpscare me?

i'm glad you'er finally ready to talk.

you could've picked somewhere nicer for a date.

you're so old.

this is strictly a business meeting.

i am a mistake. have been since the moment i was born.

excuse me? i'm everyone's type.

i see why you're single.

see? we'd never work.

go find yourself a better boy.

this one's hopeless.

that's the funny thing about hope. nobody else gets to decide if you feel it. that choice belongs to you.

for what it's worth, i don't think you're a mistake.

i just want you to know i'm here for literally anything you need.

seriously, what is your problem?

not everything is about your insecurities, [name]!

what's with the long faces?

you killed your family.

don't forget about our deal, [name].

i'm kind of a difficult person.

something's wrong.

i knew it was too good to be true.

don't leave!

say you didn't do this. how could you do this?

it was all a lie.

it was real! what we had was real. i know it was.

i just needed you to trust me. that's all.

that's right, i lied to you.

i thought i could fix it all.

thi sis what i am.

why can't you look at me?

why couldn't you love me?

you come here like this?

you can't even fix yourself.

i'm sorry for everything.

i wanted to set you free.

you gave me my soul back.

this feels amazing.

see what you've been missing?

i'm so happy you didn't, like, die.

wow, [name], way to be super literal.

i definitely feel recharged.

[lvnleah]

little moments | no more secrets.

find the no more secrets materlist here!

13 weeks pregnant | January 16th 2025 

You found yourself getting closer to Kyra each day, she was always by your side. 

You hadn’t stopped throwing up all morning, Beth had to pull over God knows how many times on the way to training. Each stop was filled with you either throwing up or dry heaving miserably on the side of the road. By the time you actually arrived at the training ground, you felt drained, your limbs heavy, your stomach aching, and your patience nonexistent.

Beth shot you a worried look as she parked. “You sure you’re okay to train?”

You exhaled sharply, leaning your head back against the seat. “I have to.”

Beth frowned. “No, you don’t have to. No one’s expecting you to push through when you feel like shit.”

“I’ll be fine,” you muttered, though neither of you believed it. “It’s just a little bit of nausea.”

Beth didn’t look convinced but sighed in defeat. “At least let me tell Renée how bad it’s been this morning.”

You groaned but didn’t argue. You knew Beth would tell her anyway, whether you agreed or not.

Dragging yourself out of the car, you walked sluggishly into the training centre. Your body protested every movement, nausea still churning deep in your stomach, but you forced yourself to push through.

Kyra was already in the changing room, “Hey, you—” Her excitement faded as soon as she got a good look at you. “Whoaaa. You look terrible, Hayds.”

“Wow, thanks,” you muttered, rubbing a hand over your face. “That’s so kind of you, Ky!”

Kyra’s expression shifted to concern. “No, seriously, you okay?”

“Just morning sickness,” you said, as if that made it any less miserable.

Kyra winced in sympathy. “Still? I thought that was supposed to ease up by now.”

You snorted. “Tell that to the baby. They love making my life hell.”

Training started, and you did your best to focus, but it didn’t take long for everything to catch up to you. At the end of training, you felt the familiar warning signs, your stomach twisting uncomfortably, cold sweat breaking out along your skin.

You barely managed to make it to the toilets in the changing room before you gagged violently, doubling over at the side of the toilet.

“Shit—” Kyra was at your side in an instant, her hand hesitantly hovering over your back before she finally made contact, rubbing gentle circles. “You’re okay, just umm…breathe. Yeah, breathe!”

That might have been comforting if, seconds later, Kyra let out a strangled sound and stumbled backward. “Oh my god. Nope. Nope, I can’t do this—”

Even in your miserable state, you couldn’t help but let out a weak laugh between heaves. “Are you serious right now?”

Kyra made an absolutely horrified face, taking another step away like distance would make it easier to handle. “I— I tried—”

But before she could even attempt to redeem herself, a firm but amused voice interrupted.

“Move,” Alessia said, stepping in. She barely spared Kyra a glance before crouching beside you, pulling your hair back and rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “Deep breaths. Let it pass.”

Kyra, still a safe distance away, groaned. “I was helping!”

Alessia raised an unimpressed eyebrow as she chucked. “You ran.”

“I panicked!” Kyra protested.

You let out another weak laugh, your body still shaky as the nausea finally started to settle. “Worst support system ever.”

Kyra gasped, “Hey! That’s mean.”

Alessia snorted, still focused on you. “Let’s get you inside, yeah?”

You nodded tiredly, letting her help you from your spot on the floor, while Kyra muttered under her breath about how unfair it was that her one weakness had betrayed her so badly.

14 weeks pregnant | January 22nd 2025 

Away trips were never fun but they were even worse now that you were pregnant. You weren’t playing, but you still wanted to be there to support the team. It also made you feel normal too. 

The team was traveling to Brighton, and despite the exhaustion pressing down on you like a weight, you’d insisted on coming along. You weren’t about to let pregnancy ruin you, and besides, you didn’t want to miss out. 

Beth had raised an eyebrow when you’d told her your plan. “Are you sure? You can barely stay awake for an entire training session.”

You’d rolled your eyes. “I’ll be fine, I’ve got my colouring books so it’ll be alright.”

So now, here you were, tucked into a seat on the team bus, wedged between Kyra and the window, with Caitlin and Katie sitting on the opposite side of the table to you. The four of you had somehow ended up as a little pocket of chaos, which meant the journey would either be entertaining or absolutely unbearable.

Kyra had been in a teasing mood since the moment you sat down.

“Hayden,” she said, poking your side as you tried to focus on your colouring book, “Hayden,” another poke. “Hayden,” yet another poke. “Haydennnnn!”

“Oh my god!” You grumbled, pausing your colouring that had your full focus, “What do you want?”

“Geez, I just wanted attention,” Kyra huffed, a pout forming on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. “But you’re too busy colouring!”

“You’re a child,” you muttered, shaking your head as you returned to your page. 

Coloring was one of the few things that helped you relax, and with the way pregnancy had your emotions all over the place, you needed all the peace you could get.

Kyra leaned over, her chin resting on your shoulder as she peered at your page. “What are you even coloring?”

“A sunset,” you answered, carefully shading in the gradient of the sky.

“Looks good,” she hummed, before suddenly snatching a random marker from your set.

“Kyra,” you warned, already sensing trouble.

“What? I just wanna help,” she said innocently, uncapping the pen. But instead of contributing anything useful, she scribbled a tiny heart in the corner of your page.

You sighed. “You’re an absolute menace.”

Kyra just grinned, “And yet, you love me.”

You tried to fight back a smile as you playfully shoved her away, focusing back on your work. After a few peaceful minutes, though, you noticed something was… off.

You picked up a blue but it wasn’t blue it was purple. 

Frowning, you checked your markers and your stomach dropped. The lids had been swapped. Your yellows were actually oranges, your blues were actually purples, and worst of all, your favorite shade of yellow was completely ruined, mixed with a streak of dark green.

“Kyra!” you gasped, horror in your voice.

Kyra peeked at you with a shit-eating grin. “What?”

“My pens! You—you ruined my yellow!”

Across from you, Katie let out a loud cackle while Caitlin snorted into her drink. “You didn’t.” Caitlin gasped, “Kyra, you’re such a pest.”

Kyra gasped dramatically, as if she was shocked by the accusation. “I would never do such a thing.”

“Oh, you definitely did such a thing.” Katie laughed, “Yer ruined the poor girl's pens!”

“Okay, but in my defense, I didn’t think Hayden actually used that yellow.” Kyra shrugged, “Yellows ugly.”

You groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. “I always use that yellow!”

“Oops?”

“Oops? Kyra, I’m pregnant. Do you want me to cry?” you said, tears bubbling up.

Kyra’s smirk dropped instantly. “Wait no, no, don’t do that! I’ll…I’ll fix it!”

But Kyra was too late, tears were already streaming down your face and she began to panic. 

“Way to go, Kyra!” Caitlin huffed, “Hey Hayden, it’s okay. We’ll get you some more pens yeah?”

Katie handed you a tissue, “Well done, you’ve made the pregnant woman cry!” Katie added, kicking Kyra under the table. 

“Hayds, I’ll buy you new markers. I’ll buy you ten sets of markers. Please don’t cry.” Kyra apologised frantically. 

“You…you ruined all of my markers!” You sniffled, tears streaming down my face, “Colouring the only thing I like at the moment and…and I use the yellow all the time!”

“Hey, hey, please don’t cry,” Kyra begged, picking up her phone and typing the brand name of your pens into her search bar. “Are these the pens you use?” You nodded. “Okay, okay, look I’ll buy the pack of 200!”

You watched closely as Kyra brought the pen set but not just any pen set, it was the pen set you’d been wanting for months. The set you couldn’t justify buying for yourself. 

Your tears stopped immediately.

Kyra blinked at you in confusion as you wiped your face, sniffled once, and then just… smiled. Without a word, you leaned into her side, resting your head on her shoulder.

Kyra hesitated. “Wait… were you faking it?”

You hummed, eyes already drifting shut. “No,” you murmured sleepily, “hormones are just weird.”

Kyra relaxed, wrapping an arm around you instinctively. The warmth of her, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, made it impossible to stay awake.

But just before sleep fully pulled you under, you mumbled against her shoulder, barely loud enough for her to hear, “I really wanted them but couldn’t justify it. Thank you.”

Kyra just looked at Katie and Caitlin who were biting their lip, trying not to laugh, “What the fuck just happened?”

“That’s pregnancy hormones for you, pest!” Caitlin said, trying her hardest not to laugh and wake you up. 

15 weeks pregnant | January 30th 2025

“Ow, fuck!” You yelped mid squat, immediately dropping the weight.

Everyone’s attention immediately turned to you. You felt the ache immediately in your calf. Being fifteen weeks pregnant, things in the gym and training were starting to slow down. 

Your body was changing a lot, you had a little bump now and everyday you noticed something new changing in your body. Gym session felt harder than before and it was driving you insane. 

Kyra was the first to reach you, eyes wide with concern. “What happened?” she asked, steadying you as you winced and sat on the ground. 

“Just—my calf,” you muttered, exhaling slowly. “I think I overdid it.”

Beth immediately rushed over to your side before listing off what felt like a million and one questions, “Are you alright? What did you do? Is it the baby? Do you need the doctor? What is it? Tell me!”

“Jesus Christ woman, I will if you let me.” You huffed, “It’s just my calf,” you reassured her, though the ache was definitely more than a small twinge.

Before you knew it you were sat on the ground, Kyra crouched beside you on one side with Beth on the other while Lia, Kim and Leah stood around you. 

Lia raised an eyebrow. “Hayden the physios said to take things easy! You need to follow their advice.”

“You mean ‘take it easy’ like you did when you had that knee injury?” you shot back. 

“Difference is, she wasn’t pregnant,” Kim pointed out, “Come on, let’s get you to sit down on a chair and let physio check you over.”

“I’m pregnant, not injured,” you argued, but the ache in your calf had you leaning into Kim slightly as she pulled you up.

“Yeah but you’re still overdoing it,” Kyra huffed, “You should just take it easy.”

“You’re pregnant and you just hurt your calf,” Alessia pointed out. “So… maybe listen to Kyra for once?”

“Can someone pinch me?” Leah asked, “Kyra’s making sense, why is Kyra making sense?”

Kyra rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hayds, just go and get checked out.”

“Are you feeling alright?” Beth said, placing a hand on Kyra’s forehead. “You sure you aren’t the one who needs the physio to check you over?”

Kyra swatted Beth’s hand away, “Fuck off, Beth. I’m fine, I just think Hayds should get checked over.”

“If you don’t take me to the physio I’ll get you a takeaway tonight and we can watch whatever movie you want, Ky!” You tried to persuade Kyra. “I promise.”

She hesitated for a moment and just as she was about to say something, Kim interrupted her, “Absolutely not, no! You need to get checked.”

“But Kimmm!” You whined, trying everything to avoid the physio, “I’d be wasting their time!”

Kim sighed, shaking her head as she led you in the direction of the physio’s room. “No. Now come on, let’s get you to the physios.”

“Wait for me!” Kyra said, joining you and Kim, “I wasn’t actually gonna agree!”

Beth was already hovering again, practically ready to carry you herself if needed. “Do you want me to—”

“I can walk,” you interrupted, though your calf protested when you put weight on it. Kyra shot you a knowing look, and before you could argue, she ducked under your arm, letting you lean on her.

Lia sighed as you hobbled out of the gym with Kyra and Kim. “I give it two days before she’s back in the gym trying to squat again.”

“More like one,” Leah corrected. “That girls stubborn.”

“I can hear you, you know,” you grumbled. “I’m pregnant, not injured!”

Beth followed closely behind, “Yeah, well, you look injured right now, so maybe just once listen to your body?”

You sighed, allowing Kyra to help you down the hall toward the physio room. “I am listening to my body,” you muttered. “It just doesn’t always say things I want to hear.”

Kyra snorted but didn’t comment, instead adjusting her hold on you to keep you steady. Beth, however, wasn’t done.

“You know, this wouldn’t be happening if you actually rested like the physios told you to,” Beth continued. “Instead, you’re in the gym squatting like you’re not carrying an actual human inside you.”

“I wasn’t even lifting that much,” you argued, though the tightness in your calf was making you regret your stubbornness. “I was just doing some squats.”

Kim scoffed. “You literally just yelped and dropped a weight.”

Beth, walking beside you, shot you a knowing look. “And scared the shit out of all of us.”

“I’m fine,” you reassured her softly. “Promise.”

You finally reached the physio’s room before any of them could say anything else. Kyra helped you ease down onto the physio table while Beth stood close, watching like a hawk. The physio, Emma, raised an eyebrow as she pulled up a stool.

“What did you do this time?” she asked, already reaching for your leg.

“Nothing serious,” you said quickly.

“She tried to squat and dropped the weight,” Kyra interjected before you could downplay it any further.

Emma shot you a look before gently prodding at your calf. You hissed as she pressed on the tight muscle, and Beth let out a sharp exhale behind you.

“Tight as hell,” Emma muttered. “Probably just a strain, but let’s be sure.” She reached for some massage oil and began working through the muscle. “How’s everything else? Any other pain, dizziness, discomfort?”

“I’m fine,” you said, but Beth scoffed loudly.

“She’s not fine. She’s been pushing herself too hard.”

Emma glanced between the two of you before shaking her head. “That doesn’t surprise me. Hayden, you do realize your body is changing, right? Your center of gravity is shifting, your ligaments are loosening, and your muscles are working overtime to compensate. You can’t train the same way you used to.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back. “I know that, but slowing down is driving me insane.”

“I just don’t want you to push yourself so hard that something actually happens. To you or your baby.” Emma said, “You need to take things easy.”

Your eyes flickered to hers, and you sighed. “I’ll be more careful, okay?”

Beth studied you for a moment before nodding. “Good.”

Emma smirked. “Alright, let’s get you sorted. But Hayden, this means modifying your training properly. No more squats with weights for now.”

16 weeks pregnant | February 6th 2025. 

“Are you two sure you’re going to be okay?” Beth asked for what felt like the millionth time. 

“Yes, Bethany,” Kyra sighed, pushing Beth towards the front door, “We’ll be fine, I’ll look after the pregnant lady very very well.”

“Stop pushing me out of my own house, Kyra!” Beth groaned as she joined Viv at the front door. 

Kyra grinned, not looking the least bit sorry. “You’ll thank me later when you realize a night out without babysitting Hayds is exactly what you need.”

“Hey!” You mumbled, “I don’t need a babysitter! I’m pregnant, not a child.”

“You do realize Beth’s still going to text every five minutes, right?” Viv sighed, throwing her coat on. 

Beth shot Viv a glare. “I am not that bad.”

You and Kyra exchanged a look before responding in unison. “Yes, you are.”

Beth groaned, throwing her hands up. “Fine! Whatever! But if anything happens—”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll call,” Kyra finished for her. “Now go before you change your mind and decide to stay home hovering over Hayds like a mother hen.”

Beth grumbled under her breath but finally stepped outside. “Try not to kill each other or the dog please.” Viv sighed. 

“No promises,” Kyra quipped as she shut the door behind them. 

As soon as Beth and Viv were gone, she turned to you with a mischievous grin. “So… how much trouble do you think we can get into before they get back?”

You sighed, rubbing your belly. “Ky, no. Beth and Viv will kill me if anything happens to us or the dog.”

Kyra pouted dramatically. “Okay, okay. No trouble. But that means we need a new plan. Movie night? Snacks? Ice cream?”

You considered it for a moment before nodding. “Ice cream sounds good. And a movie, if you don’t pick something terrible.”

“So rude.” Kyra gasped, rolling her eyes, “My taste is amazing!”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling as you followed her to the kitchen, Myle following closely behind you. 

Half an hour later, the two of you were curled up on the sofa, a blanket draped over your legs, a tub of ice cream between you, and IT playing on the screen.

“This was a terrible idea,” you muttered, gripping the spoon a little tighter as Pennywise’s eerie smile filled the screen.

Kyra, who had insisted this movie was a “classic” and that you were both “definitely brave enough” to handle it, was now clutching onto you like her life depended on it. 

“Okay, but why does he have to be that creepy?” she whispered.

Myle, the only one completely unfazed, was curled up on the rug, sleeping peacefully while the two of you suffered in fear.

When a particularly terrifying jump scare had Kyra yelping and you squeezing your eyes shut, you’d had enough. “Nope. I’m done. Turn it off.”

Kyra fumbled for the remote, slamming the power button so fast she nearly dropped it. “Yeah, okay, maybe this was a mistake.”

You exhaled deeply, rubbing a hand over your bump, trying to protect it from nothing. “Beth and Viv are never going to let us live this down if they find out we got scared by a movie and had to turn it off.”

Kyra shook her head. “No, no, nope! They’re never finding out.”

A tense silence settled between you, both of you still very much on edge. The house, which had felt cozy and warm earlier, now seemed way too dark and way too quiet.

“…Do you think Pennywise is real?” Kyra asked suddenly.

You threw a pillow in her direction, “Shy would you say that! Are you trying to scare me into not sleeping?!”

Kyra gulped. “I mean… we don’t know he’s not.”

That was it. You were not spending another second in that living room. “Come on, we’re going to bed,” you announced, standing up so quickly you almost knocked over the ice cream.

Kyra didn’t argue. She practically sprinted after you, grabbing a spatula from the kitchen counter on the way.

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked, stopping at your bedroom door. 

“Weapon,” Kyra said seriously, holding the spatula like it was some kind of deadly blade.

“You are unbelievable.” You chuckled, heading into your bedroom with Myle trailing at your feet. “…But it ain’t a bad idea.”

“You’ll be thanking me when Pennywise shows up and I save us,” she muttered, sliding under the covers beside you. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep, but the sound of the front door opening jolted you and Kyra awake at the same time.

“Did…did you hear that?” Kyra whispered, her grip tightening on the spatula that she’d fallen asleep with. 

Your heart pounded in your chest. “Of course I heard it! Someone’s in the house!”

Kyra gasped. “It’s Pennywise. We’re done for.”

“Oh my God, Kyra, shut up!” you hissed, your brain not exactly working logically at 1am.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Kyra’s hand clenched around the spatula.

“This is it,” she whispered dramatically. “We’re gonna die.”

As soon as the bedroom door creaked open, you both screamed and before she could think twice, Kyra swung the spatula with full force.

A loud smack echoed through the room, followed by a pained “What the fuck!?”

“…Viv?” you said, eyes adjusting to see Viv standing there, one hand clutching her forehead, the other frozen in shock.

Beth, standing just behind her, blinked in confusion. “Did you just hit Viv with a spatula?” She asked before laughing. 

Kyra, still holding the weapon, looked equally horrified and impressed. “I—I think I did.”

Viv groaned, rubbing her forehead. “Why the fuck did you hit me?”

“We thought you were Pennywise!” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Silence.

Then Beth wheezed. “You thought—” She had to pause to catch her breath. “—you thought Pennywise broke into the house?”

Kyra sat there frozen for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.”

Beth lost it. She doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach while Viv groaned and muttered something in Dutch.

“You’re both fucking ridiculous,” Viv grumbled, still rubbing her forehead. “I come home after a nice night out, and I get attacked in my own house.”

Beth wiped at her eyes, still grinning. “Ky, I can’t believe you hit Viv with a spatula.”

Kyra huffed. “You weren’t the one who just spent two hours being traumatized by a demonic clown, Bethany!”

Beth shook her head, still laughing, before looking at you. “And you let her do it?”

Viv groaned again, still not over the fact she’d been smacked in the face for simply walking into her own house. “I hate you both.”

The next morning, you woke up to Kyra groaning beside you, muttering something about how her back hurt from sleeping in a weird position. You were about to tease her when the events of last night came rushing back.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, covering your face with your hands. “We are never living this down.”

Kyra groaned again, this time for a different reason. “Viv is never going to let me forget that I threw a spatula at her.”

Before you could respond, a soft knock on the door interrupted you, followed by Beth’s overly chipper voice.

“Good morning, my little horror movie survivors!” she called out.

You groaned into your pillow, “Go away, Beth.”

“Not a chance,” she said, pushing the door open. “We’re going for a walk. You two need fresh air after the traumatic experience you put yourselves through.”

Kyra peeked over the covers. “Is Viv coming?”

Beth smirked. “Yep. And she’s got a lovely reminder of your… reflexes on her forehead.”

Half an hour later, the four of you were strolling through the park with Leah, Alessia, Lotte, and Steph along with their dogs. You walked beside Beth, holding Myle’s leash while Kyra had placed herself between you and Viv, clearly still feeling guilty.

It didn’t take long for someone to notice.

“What the hell happened to your head?” Alessia asked, squinting at the faint bruise forming on her forehead.

Viv sighed, “Kyra happened.”

“Oh god, what have you done now?” Steph groaned, “I swear to god Kyra if you—”

Kyra immediately turned red. “I didn’t mean to!”

Leah raised an eyebrow. “Wait, wait, what?”

Beth burst out laughing, unable to hold it in. “Kyra threw a spatula at her.”

That was all it took for the girls to lose it.

Alessia practically doubled over. “You what?”

“Kyra!” Steph said, whacking her lightly on the back of her head, “Poor Viv.”

Lotte tried to be sympathetic but was biting back a smile. “Viv, I’m so sorry. That must’ve hurt.”

“Oh, it did,” Viv grumbled. “Never thought I’d get hit with a spatula…”

Kyra, still looking mortified, groaned. “We watched IT, okay? We were already freaked out, and then you two showed up and scared us half to death!”

Leah shook her head, still laughing. “So, your first reaction to being scared was to throw a spatula?”

“I panicked!” Kyra defended. “And it was the closest weapon when I went to bed!”

Alessia wiped a tear from her eye. “Oh, Ky, this is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

“You’re all the worst,” Kyra muttered, shoving her hands in her pockets.

You squeezed her arm in sympathy. “I mean… you did say the spatula would come in handy.”

Viv let out a dramatic sigh. “Next time, just aim for Beth instead.”

Beth gasped, “Wow. Betrayal!”

As the laughter died down, the conversation shifted to other things, though every now and then, one of the girls would glance at Viv and chuckle under their breath.

Kyra leaned into your side, mumbling, “I’m never living this down, am I?”

You smiled, “Nope, you’re never gonna forget this.”

[peachhcs]

forever grateful → social media post

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy announces her goodbye to umich soccer, but hello to bay fc!

this wouldn’t happen until after samy’s junior year season (end of 2025, start of 2026) but i became inspired to make a social media post for her about it (also i am slowly answering everyone's requests :))

au masterlist

samyhughes tonight i said goodbye to this amazing team. i couldn’t be more grateful for such an amazing 3 years with these girls and this community. the university of michigan has always been my home since i walked onto the campus when i was 12 years old. i fell in love with the culture and the sense of home i felt anytime i was there.

i wanna say thank you to coach klein for taking a chance on me and seeing the potential i had to be something big. you never saw me as just a freshman, but instead as a girl who you trusted to completely rewrite what it means to be a umich women’s soccer player. i carried this season’s captaincy on my heart & my co captains always believed in me.

while this chapter is coming to a close, i can’t wait to open up the next one. as most of you know, i have signed on with bay fc into the nwsl and i couldn’t be more excited for what’s to come.

forever and always a wolverine <3

view all comments

hannahduke could not be more proud of you. you’re gonna do such great things and i can’t wait to come visit you in san fran 😌

| samyhughes please please come visit me gonna miss u so much

user1 omgggg i can’t believe she’s leaving early ugh so proud of her tho

user2 i just knowww they’ll be talking about her for years and what she did for that program

user3 i can’t believe she turned around that program as a freshman and then continued to make it even better

marcieevans11 super proud of u best friend ur gonna do great things ❤️

| samyhughes i love you mar forever my rock

edwards.73 what an amazing accomplishment and three years. it’s been such an honor watching you play

| samyhughes i hope jersey’s been treating you good

markestapa coolest person i know you’re gonna kill in san francisco 🙂‍↕️

| samyhughes means a lot mark come visit!!

lhughes_06 proud to call you my sister. you’re awesome pop ❤️

| samyhughes thanks for always believing in me ❤️

tyler___duke5 the legacy lives on forever gonna crush it in cali

| samyhughes i can’t believe im saying this but i’m gonna miss u

tj_hughes13 what a good ride it’s been w u come back and visit sometime

| samyhughes always come back and visit

user4 such a memorable season for her ugh i’m gonna miss her in mich so much

user5 the genes in this family is crazyyy now all 4 kids are pro

seamuscasey26 wow! this is huge, congrats!!

| samyhughes thank you!!!

g.brindley4 always knew u had it in u

| samyhughes such a wild ride

jackhughes so incredibly proud of u pop. i can’t wait to keep watching you shine

| samyhughes hughes went coast to coast 😎

_quinnhughes what a huge accomplishment! michigan will always be here for you. can’t wait to be able to have u closer to van

| samyhughes expect MANY visits from me :)

rutgermcgroarty epiccc highest so proud

| samyhughes thanks rut 🥹

julianne_gelinas my biggest inspiration!!!

| samyhughes i love you!!!

emmagcooper san fran wont know what hit em!!!

| samyhughes they sure won’t!

dylanduke25 they grow up so fast 🥹

| lhughes_06 they really do

| samyhughes 🥹

blairestevenson WOWOW!!! you’re so cool samy!!! so excited to have u on the west coast with us!!

| samyhughes IM SOOO EXCITED!!!

beckettsennecke_ WELCOME TO CALIIII

| samyhughes YUPPP

trevorzegras heard u were coming out west. congrats little hughes!!

| samyhughes thanks trev!!!

| jackhughes u can never get rid of us 😉

ryan.leno_4 already bought tickets for your debut 😛

| samyhughes see you then!!

gabeperreault44 so proud of you hughesy i always knew you’d make it far

| samyhughes i’m so flattered 😇 come see me in cali!!!

kayleighdocherty_ wow!! this is awesome samy! i’m so proud of you!! cali will look so good on you

| samyhughes hope this means we can hang out more! 😊

drewf2 SHES CALI BOUND OFFICAL!!

| samyhughes ITS OFFICIAL ALRIGHT!

user6 everyone supporting and congratulating her is soo cute 🥰🥰

user7 i’d give anything to be who she is

aram_minnetian +1000 aura

| samyhughes LMAO plssss

jacob_fowler24 sooo now we have to come visit for u AND will

| samyhughes YUPP

zeevbuium28 sooo fucking cool ur so awesome

| samyhughes thanks zeev

jameshagens_4 MMHMMM yuppp from wolverine to pro soccer player in the span of 3 months 🥱

| samyhughes run it backkk

teddystiga_ what a great accomplishment!

| samyhughes ugh thanks teddy come to cali to see will and i!!

_willvote congrats! you’re gonna kill it

| samyhughes thanks voteyy

samanthaminnetian sooo awesome samy ugh so proud you’ve grown and done so much in the last 3 years. i can’t wait to see you continuing to thrive

| samyhughes i love uuu 🥰

danielle_minnetian coolest person i know wowowow

| samyhughes 🥰🥰

mackcelebrini SLEEPOVERS EVERY NIGHT NOW!!!

| samyhughes YAYAYAY

| _willsmith2 SLEEPOVER SLEEPOVER

eklund_72 soo presh samy! congrats and welcome to cali!!

| samyhughes thanks ekky!! :))

thombordeleau_ michigan to cali pipeline continuing! congrats on a great three years and welcome to the next!!

| samyhughes had to continue the tradition 🙂‍↕️

michaelhagens_11 awesome accomplishment!!! you’re a beast fr

| samyhughes thank ya haggy 😌

nick_moldenhauer what will i do at michigan without you???

| samyhughes stop spending so much money LMAO

_willsmith2 so incredibly proud of you❤️❤️ can’t wait to see you on a professional field super soon you deserve it so much

| samyhughes i love you!!! can’t wait to be even closer ❤️❤️

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading updates: april 2025

HI wow what a month! 2025 felt like it was going REAL FAST until about mid-March, and ever since then it's slowed to a sort of molasses. despite the seeming influx of extra time I read much less in April than I have in any of the previous months this year - this is the first month I haven't even cracked double digits! which is fine, of course, it's not a competition, but it is interesting to think about what slowed me down so drastically.

(just kidding, it's not a mystery. it's heaps and heaps of stress. oops!)

ANYWAY. fortunately April's book haul has largely been a case of quality of over quantity, introducing me to several books that I think are guaranteed to land on my year-end best-of list. without further ado:

what have I been reading?

Under the Skin: The Hidden Toll of Racism on American Lives and on the Health of Our Nation (Linda Villarosa, 2022) - I checked this book out last month alongside Dr. Uché Blackstock's memoir, Legacy: A Black Physician Reckons With Racism in Medicine, as kind of a mini-series on racial bias in the American medical system. while I feel like I broadly learned more overall from Villarosa, thanks to her taking a journalistic approach that allows for a broader scope than Blackstock can achieve by primarily focusing on her personal experiences, I found that the two books complemented each other extremely well and each served to bolster and deepen the other. one major advantage of Villarosa's work is the geographic variability and the ability to meet healthcare workers and patients from a much wider range of places than Blackstock's New York hospitals, with particular focus on poor communities in southern states. Villarosa's writing has a strong, compassionate, deeply curious voice that makes her subjects incredibly vivid, rendering them with dignity even as their medical nightmares are laid bare. it was an incredible read and one that had been languishing on my TBR for a while, and I'm very glad I finally made the time.

Earthlings (Sayaka Murata, 2018, trans. Ginny Tapley Takemori, 2020) - while I didn't love this novel quite as much as Murata's briefer wonder, Convenience Store Woman, it did cement Murata as an author whose work absolutely fascinates me. her grasp of trauma and alienation is incredible, and she has a way of depicting unconventional desire in a way that's unlike anything I've ever seen. I'm supremely excited to read more of her work.

The Love Hypothesis (Ali Hazelwood, 2021) - in case you haven't already heard the news: I read the alleged Reylo laboratory AU romance novel expecting to be a big hater and I ended up loving it. joke's on me! you win this round, Ali Hazelwood.

Crying in H Mart (Michelle Zauner, 2021) - listen: you never want to be the guy saying that a woman's memoir about losing her mother to a painful and sudden cancer isn't that sad. to be clear, it is an extremely sad book! Zauner does an incredible job rendering the all-consuming pain of nursing her mother through her final days, a pain devastatingly unique to everyone who experiences it. in this case, the biracial Zauner also has the daunting sense of losing not only her mother but also a core part of her identity, struggling to figure out how to be a Korean American woman without the connection her mother provided. it's a tragedy! it's several tragedies all in one place, make no mistake! but I also feel like I've spent YEARS hearing this book hyped up as The Saddest Book Ever, and perhaps I've just read too many sad memoirs but it was like. it was fine. it's just fine. solid B+, not mad I read it, but I have read sadder. probably I am going to hell for this.

Liquid: A Love Story (Mariam Rahmani, 2025) - I was super excited for Rahmani's debut novel, which has a compelling premise: stuck in a stagnating academic career and with her parents nagging her to wed, an unnamed queer Iranian-American woman decides to go on 100 dates across Los Angeles to find a likely candidate for a marriage that can bring her financial security. her plans inevitably go awry when a family tragedy requires her to travel to Iran, where her goals are brought more sharply into focus - and she ultimately resolves her romantic quandary. it's a stylish book, almost painfully so; I can't say I'd recommend this to anyone who dislikes literary fiction because GOD is this Literary Fiction, our protagonist deeply preoccupied with her own witty malaise and caustic observations. she's a little awful and I liked her a lot, but I also think that the resolution Rahmani brings her protagonist to was devastatingly expected - and unfortunately, no amount of self-aware lampshading actually makes it less predictable. I'm conflicted! it felt like a lot of building up to not a lot of payoff, but I'm compelled all the same and I'm hoping to see more of Rahmani in the future.

Before We Were Trans: A New History of Gender (Kit Heyam, 2022) - god, what a delight of a book. Heyam takes a gorgeously open approach to what constitutes "trans history", casting their net wide to recognize gender nonconformity far beyond contemporary understandings of what it means to be transgender. Heyam advocates for a wide recognition of experiences throughout history: people whose gender identities were shaped by non-Western religions and cultures, those whose identities blurred between same-gender attraction and a desire to be recognized as a different gender than the one expected of them, those whose transgressions of gendered boundaries can't be proven to be align strictly with 21st century ideas of transness. Heyam's approach is one of radical inclusiveness, seeking not to "prove" any particular understandings of transness in historical figures but simply to point at a long, global history of people living outside of a gender binary and weave all of these instances together in the understanding that all of these experiences support and bolster each other in affirming that across time, language, and culture, people bucking gender norms have always existed. reading this book felt like holding a mug of hot chocolate.

Afterparties (Anthony Veasna So, 2021) - genuinely impossible for me to talk about this short story collection without acknowledging that it was published posthumously by So's mother and partner after he died very young. I will freely admit that the first story did not grab me, and since I'm fussy about short stories I might well have set down the book after that if not for the strange sense that I was holding a small representation of a man's life in my hands. I guess that's always the case with a book, but somehow it felt extra sharp here. in any case, I'm glad I stuck it out; So's stories about Cambodian immigrant communities in California are messy and loving and sorrowful and silly, delving deep into the sadness that can cling to a family for generations. I'd be absolutely remiss not to pay particular attention to the final story, "Generational Differences," in which So writes from the point of view of his own mother, talking to his child self and recounting a tragedy. it's a brave and vulnerable approach that I've never encountered before, and it's really something special.

an obligatory update on my book bingo sheets: as usual, the sheet that I'm filling in opportunistically is thriving, with the addition of Liquid completing another bingo and getting me very close to two more

and the list of books that I specifically planned out is LANGUISHING

finger crossed for May, when I'm hoping to cross at least two more off the list...

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

Well, it looks like I got it right. It was a silly episode, though nothing related to the teaser we got. That's a shame. I suppose it's just to hype us up for the future. Either way, let's see what this is about!

(the following is my live reaction:)

shoes, huh? ......spaghetwhat now?

oof, yeah man you're gonna need a new pair

ooh damn. well, it is Bob after all. ofc he would say that 😌↕️

nah it's still bullshit, idc what anyone says

why, this doesn't look suspicious at all. a mirror shop conviently placed here on an alleyway

"🤨?" what? I gotta be on high alert every episode! Last time, the Team dropped a callback to IGBP out of nowhere, who knows what they drop on us next

uh, wha? how did.....? I shouldn't be questioning the logic of the SMG4 universe, this isn't what's surprising. It's a fact that mirrors were also used in WOTFI 2025 hmmmm

(you guys are gonna have to drag me away from this scene or I'll start thinking too hard on this)

c'mon dude, there's no need to prove yourself of anything

oh hey Swag! how's Chris— *record scratch* ......i'm sorry wha?

😦

RADIATION?

oh i did not like the realistic mouth ADKL;JK

wait hold up! enhance... ENHANCE....

....is that who I think it is? there's no way, right?

IS THAT STEVE? omg HI it's been so long

FM?! it's really you? omg ^^ it's been.... oh wow, it has been years, hasn't it? anyway damn, it's been SO long

like I know FM and X aren't gonna come back but it is heartwarming to see them again after a few years. We mostly seen Cube walking around

she was a fairy 🧚✨

see? I told yall Mario would totally be a disney princess (that crowd's just being a much of haters)

I ain't trusting that, hell no

AY back to the clubhouse!

Oh, Depresso, I didn't expect you to come back from Karen's arc

....😶 "what?" well, I was gonna say that I hated that heavy breathing like. Mario, what the hell did you do? But for some reason, this starting to remind me of something. I'll talk about it later if this is going where I think is going

ofc the meme guardians would be the ones who enjoy this lol

well, 4 would be the one doing the redesigns. this tho.....

and now Swag's glowing green smh, told yall I don't trust it

Well, it was mostly 3 that made fun of you, Mario, but that's bc it's 3 we're talking about. I suppose from how you feel, you might remember it things differently

MORE?!

Mario, telling you rn, it ain't worth it

yeah, I knew Swag was gonna say "CHUG"

😨 oh i don't like that..... I think my hunch may be correct

(also don't

what is up with his hand? he destroyed a nokia, and yall know those are practically indestructible

guys, i don't like this

😨😨😨

MIYAMOTO NOOO

the cutaway from that fight scene tho LMAO

JAMES?!

why did I have a feeling 3 would like this new look? lol (it actually makes me think)

killer fish from san diego.... (FISH MENTION?!)

well, 4, what else did you expect? This seems like a normal SMG4 plot honesty, it just feels.... a bit strange if that's how I would describe it

*points at 3* Can we talk about the fit tho? the puzzles hoodie and the silly pants..... that's a Fit (with a capital F) if I ever seen one 😎

perhaps one day we get James to do a 3 cosplay like Luke did? maybe???

and that's a fire bound to happen

....omg, Bob? Was this from the explosion?

it'll never be enough, right? but also this is Bob, he's got a whole set of standards

oh yea, this is VERY similar to the thing I'm going to talk about

Mario: "I WILL be pretty" :( aw but you were

EXACTLY, you really did have a point from the start

TIME TO SHUT THIS DOWN

Do the thing, Mario! YEAH

It's bad enough as it is that people were already mad about the switch 2 (and by extension the new mario kart) would be expensive

Well, at least Miyamoto listened

Wow, 3 was really happy with this new form until he was changed back. huh.

Look, I know it's supposed to be funny and all, but something's telling me it goes deeper than that. And I'm gonna talk about it OBVIOUSLY. You are talking to a theorist here, ofc I would overanalyze stuff

At least, things are back to normal

and THERE! Right there is all I need, thanks Team!

Such a tease to have the cafe right there and Swag coming out of it, but we don't get to be in it (*head in hands* /lh) one day tho....

*explodes* <- that is probably the second episode in a row that ended with an explosion

Congrats to Michelle940607 for your art being featured in the end credits! 🎉 seriously some of the art I've seen from you guy look like they belong in a museum omg

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

This certainly was an episode and I'm not quite sure what to think of it /gen. It did start off and very similar to a classic SMG4 plot, I noticed we got a lot more of Mario's 64 version in this one. But for some reason I can't point my finger on it, hmm.

I'll be real, it did feel a bit uncomfortable of the whole "true beauty" thing and all that jazz, but it was a nice message at the end with Mario accepting himself. As someone who has dealt with self-image issues before, it hits closer to home more than anything. The good thing is that we got our silly goofball back.

"So, what's the big deal about your hunch?" Well, I'm glad you asked, chat. For most of the episode, I couldn't shake this feeling of familiarity until I remembered what it was when Mario transformed the second time.

You see, there is a body-horror film called "The Substance". I do wanna warn that there is a bunch of gore and things that make want to look away, I know not all of you have the stomach to look it up so I might as well warn you now. It's also the whole point of the film to make you feel uncomfortable and unsettled, perhaps even grossed out. Basically, the film brings up the topic of perfection and societal beauty standards, more specifically in Hollywood. Truly, the victim of the film is an older actress desperately wanting to bring her perfect self while at the same time hating herself for how she looks now, despite being beautiful anyway. She took a serum (that was a radioactive-green color) and it worked, only later to abuse it bc of the perfection mindset Hollywood put on her.

Perfectionism, it really leads someone to their downfall....

There's a reason I brought this film up. Throughout the whole episode, it felt off. Sure, I was uncomfortable about "fixing" one's self image, but there was another thing. The close-up to Swag's realistic mouth, the mirror. The radiation given to Mario, the heavy breathing and distortion of his body. Hell, even the way Mario feel against the table and knocked the book off from it. This is practically a PG-13 version of the film, except y'know with Mario and in the SMG4 universe. Heh, and wouldn't you know it, pink being used in the two medias to represent perfection. (you're gonna have to trust me on this for those who don't know)

Now, can we talk about 3? We GOTTA talk about 3.

On hindsight, it's part of the joke that someone would like their new look and get sad when everything turns back to normal, which in this case was 3. And it indeed caught me so off-guard to see James just there, it did get a laugh out of me. BUT if you put this context of the film in mind, this bit adds on to the topic of 3's insecurities. He already feels like the "worst version of 4" and still getting used to having friends. Then, to have this radioactive solution that supposedly makes you look perfect and become "true beauty" on him, 3 looks really happy about it. Sure, he goes on to say how he's handsome and is "The Rizzler", but that might be him trying to put up a front of his own self-image to others. And maybe to himself. Ofc everything reverts back to the way it was and 3 is upset about it. Back to being the "worst version of 4". Not to mention 3 wearing a Puzzles hoodie, y'know the one always in pursuit for perfection.

The more you think about, it really is sad.

Speaking of 4, he was the completely opposite. 4 was the first one to ask Mario what the hell did he do to them and was dumbfounded to know the reason why, for shoes. Until the very end, you can see 4 being unhappy until he's back to his old silly self. He didn't want this "perfection". Now, this is not me trying to connect it to goop!4, really I'm not. But it is just interesting that 4 didn't accept the unexpected "perfection" and rejected it.

Maybe I'm looking too much into thing and likely that the Team didn't plan all this, but these are my thoughts. Personally, it was an ok episode, all things considered, but I know some people aren't happy about it which that's fair. I just hope some people *cough cough* reddit *cough* don't take things too far and start blaming our new writer. We're just getting started and I did get a catch on some of their work, so I can put in a good word. Please do give them a chance, looking at you reddit. Not all episodes are going to be heavy-hitters and that's okay. There's always another week.

It's valid if you don't like the episode or you're unsure what to feel, just don't go looking for someone/something to blame on. Perhaps it's me being too optimistic, who can say? Besides, I know the Team's cooking, I got a hunch

I still can't believe Evan from the Team actually followed me omg

Anyway, it is an interesting direction the Team went with this episode and I do hope we get more of 3's inner turmoil of being "4's worst copy" like the "Trash Friends" episode. Oh, and they follow-up on the Puzzles and WPNZ teaser somehow, a prison escape perhaps?? Who knows!

As for all of you, if you are dealing with self-image/body issues, just know that you're a wonderful person inside and out. It might not feel like it bc we're talking behind a screen, but seriously you don't have to change to be loved. You already are, and very much friend-shaped to give you a virtual hug 🫂💙 If you want, talk to somebody about it and try to handle it in a healthy and respectful way to yourself. For example, instead of the usual black hoodies I wore in high school, I dress and doll myself up with some nice and comfy clothes. Even if I'm not going out, I still do it and that helped me rebuild some confidence in myself. You can always do what you can for yourself, however you can :)

Well, that's all from me folks! I do apologize taking a while to post this out there. Just putting out fires in my production job, y'know the usual. I'll see yall in the next one, and remember: numbers always go first!

...wow, I can't believe we got to see FM after so long. That's wild. I do wonder how Chris is doing tho

[i-may-be-an-emu]

TELL ME ABOUT THE MEN!!!!!!

HELLO!!!

GLADLY :DD

THE MEN. :)

They’re called shoot from the hip (sfth) and are @shootimpro on youtube, tiktok, instagram, facebook, x/twitter, Bluesky, as well as on linktree, patreon and ko-fi.

(Hi just a note that I’ve updated this post a bit :))

They’re London based but have done shows outside london like in Scotland (Edinburgh Fringe) and even to Spain. They want to hopefully go to other countries in the future too!!

From left to right they’re Sam, Tom, AJ and Luke :)))

Ok, so. They do improvised comedy and their shows have two halves (generally with a break in the middle) they play lots of short drama games in the first half and then improvise 20-30 minute (on average) plays in the second half, sometimes with another game at the end.

The plays are so much fun (they’ve got 43 of them up on youtube so far!! (< updated January 2025)) and they’ve also released three full specials (full shows) which you can find on their channel :)

For a few of the older ones (apart from the first one) they were filming on an iphone and just projecting their voices, so the the audio and image quality can be hard to deal with (but all their videos are subtitled by the AMAZING volunteer subtitlers!!!) the older videos are well worth watching, though!!!

They have SO MUCH CONTENT because during covid they did zoom-style improv shows with eachother and you can watch those as a patreon. (To find out what else you get with patreon go to my pinned post :))

They also have SO MANY VIDEOS that are just the regular public ones!!!! They upload short ones of the games and some 5-10min ones of the games too, as well as the long forms (plays)

Now some info about the guys :D

Samuel Thomas Russell-Holmes:

Birthday 21st July 1989 (35)

Married this year and expecting a baby!!! :)

wears a red flannel a LOT (less recently, but still a LOT, it’s his Thing)

he says some very risky things sometimes but also has the audacity to look shocked when the others do it lol

Fav colour is green

he’s 5”10

brown eyes

currently producing a radio show for the bbc called wing it (available in December!)

if he were a Disney Princess he said he’d be Rapunzel

VERY GOOD AT ANIMAL (specifically goat/sheep) NOISES

initiates kisses with the others a lot (all of them do but I’ve counted and he kisses Luke the most and initiates kisses with all of them the most overall) (in the videos they’ve posted at least))

great at talking in Spanish gibberish, often paired with opening his shirt buttons

loves fantasy things

interested in Greco Roman mythology

wrote an audiobook called “Evergreen”

his mother and grandfather are/were successful actors

Has a drama degree

Low spice tolerance

has eaten raw egg live on camera

likes to cook

Thomas Mayo-Woodman/Hodgson-Mayo:

HES SO TALL (this man is almost 2m tall- he’s 6”5.5 :0)

brown eyes

his birthday is 10th July 1989 (35)

Married to a drag king (@pipdream on insta, tiktok, youtube, ect.) whose pronouns are they/them (they’re an icon and we love them)

Wrote a graphic novel (it’s called Future it’s about space lesbians)

literally one of the sweetest and kindest souls on this planet I’ve never met him but every time he says anything it’s like WOW OK YOURE SO NICE AND KIND AND WONDERFUL (everything I’ve heard from people who’ve met him is SO NICE)

SO GOOD AT IMPROVISING (specifically Shakespearian-style) MONOLOGUES

his favourite colour is red

has two english degrees (very good with grammar and words)

has adhd

makes a garbled choking noise very well (you have to hear it to get what I mean I guess lol)

has eaten a teabag live on camera

He’s referred to as the “dad” of the group a bit

Very hard to make him laugh on stage (but he’s been laughing more, recently!!) and each one is treasured

He’s so kind did I mention he is so kind

lovingly called a squid or squidboi by the fandom because of one time (a few times actually) he like stuck his hands in his sleeves and was like “I’m a squid”

does a lot of admin work for sfth and handles the finances (at least he did, they might have someone for that now I’m not sure) and takes care of the patreon

Makes a lot of spreadsheets

DID I MENTION HOW NICE AND KIND HE IS

Alexander Thomas Jeremy (AJ):

Birthday on 4th November 1991 (32)

CONFUSION KING /aff (he gets confused easily but we love him for it)

He’s bald and gets made fun of for it RELENTLESSLY (again, lovingly)

Absolutely ANGELIC singing voice

Blue eyes

born in Manchester(UK) but grew up in France (fluent in French)

makes movies/short films on youtube!! He’s working on a new one now and you can find them @lofi_film25 on youtube (that’s also his film insta)

does a lot of the editing for sfth and has a lot of input into which longforms to upload apparently

he’s such a himbo (/aff)

fav colour is blue

He’s 6 foot tall

On their covid livestreams would always forget to get costuming ready “I don’t do costumes” (king <3)

his rapping is BEAUTIFUL (words that barely rhyme at all and make NO sense 😌)

He delivers GREAT one liners

so good at playing children it’s crazy

can do magnificent cartwheels and loves to jump on the others with no warning

lots of muscles but lost an arm wrestle against Tom

Thinks he can’t do an Irish accent but I think it’s pretty good

also has a drama degree

He creates such amazing characters in the longforms

this is more just my opinion but I love his laugh

VOLDEMORT IMPRESSION IS SPOT ON

Luke Christopher Manning

Birthday is the 23rd October 1989 (currently 34 about to be 35)

Hazel eyes

hes not short but he’s the short-EST, 5”7.5

gets made fun of for his height a LOT (lovingly!!)

SO good at accents

so good at playing women

also so good at playing children

such a good actor overall (the only one of them currently perusing acting I believe)

says THE MOST UNHINGED THINGS

people think he’s innocent (somehow) but he’s SO unhinged

took his pants off live on stage (wearing underwear but still lol 😭 he’s a menace)

lives in Spain with his long term girlfriend (can speak very competently in Spanish)

so much attitude in such a small guy (/aff)

sometimes compared to Macaulay Caulkin looks-wise

plays bass guitar in a band

Teaches acting (to kids??) in Spain

also has adhd

also has a drama degree

His favourite film is back to the future I’m pretty sure?

So confident in himself I aspire to be like that

people say he “doesn’t age” and looks really young but I personally think he does look his age

sometimes called “Luke Womanning” as a play on his last name because of how amazing all his female characters are

They’re all really close friends and met at uni and started doing improv around 13 years ago together! Started gaining popularity in 2022 on tiktok and are gaining more and more fans every day!

Um. Whoops I wrote a lot lol. (It totally hasn’t been an hour of me just writing this hahahaha)

anyway I love them so much :)))) (as you can probably tell)

anyway!

THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON THIS ASK MEANS SO MUCH TO ME :DDDDD

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #38

#MerMay 2025 Special

"And here-" Reaching into the drawer beside his desk, the Professor took out a large stack of documents, placing it before you solemnly. "-are the files and information you need to get started on your own project. What do you say, do you feel up to the task?"

You gulped.

There it was, finally, the chance of a lifetime. After dedicating years to studying marine life, you were finally allowed to work in this field and given an opportunity to prove yourself and your abilities. The IML Research Facility hadn't been your first choice, but it was the only one that accepted you—the field had turned out to be much more competitive than you thought.

As far as you had seen, it was huge. Huge enough to make you sign all kinds of NDA just to visit them for an interview. It was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time, but you had been very impressed with all the machinery and enclosures you had been shown. They had tanks and machines for every kind of species, they even started successfully housing orcas, as you had been told. Everything was provided, from a place to live free of charge to fresh food three times a day. A perfect environment to study and focus on work without disruptions.

From what you heard from the other workers, the pay was good, and you had enough days off to recharge after the busy work season. Besides, you'd get to work with professionals, trail them for the first few days, and then get assigned your own project to handle how you saw fit. What more could one need?

With nervous hands, you reached for the papers, but the Professor laid his palm down on them before you could. You looked up at him in surprise, finding him smiling warmly and with the confidence of a man his age. He didn't just lead this facility, he was also a well-known face in the scene, giving regular speeches and traveling the world to convey the message of how important it was to take care of the ocean and all its inhabitants.

He was everything you wanted to be.

"I see a lot of potential in you," he admitted, sounding so convincing it almost made you cry. Many had doubted your choices and ambitions, but here, you were welcome. You were between your own kind of people.

"I want you here, at this facility, helping us develop great things for all living beings. But I need you to know..."

Ah, you thought. Here it comes. The catch. It was too good to be true.

However, against your expectations, the Professor's grin widened as he let out a hearty laugh.

"Once you start, you might never want to leave! Most of our researchers just can't separate from their protegees anymore!"

You let out a small laugh, too, as the pressure vanished from your body, the bad news you expected never coming. Nothing wrong with being passionate about your work, right? You could see yourself falling into this pattern as well if everything was as wonderful as you hoped.

"All I need you to do," the Professor instructed, pointing at the pile of documents in front of you. "Is to sign the contract on top of here, and in a few minutes, you'll be out and about, learning the ropes and meeting your new best friend—your new workplace! We also prepared a little welcome treat for you in your room."

The Professor winked at you, fumbling with the folder on top of the papers until he pulled a work contract from it. It seemed to be about a few pages with neat rows of sentences. Many sentences, in a small font, that made it incredibly hard to read.

"Oh, wow, uh, you are so prepared!" you mumbled, taken aback that you were supposed to sign right away. Didn't everybody always say you get some time to think about it? Sleep over it? You couldn't possibly sign it right now, or did you?

"How about I take this home with me and give it some thought and get back to you?" you offered, reaching for the pile of paper when the Professor's hand once again came down on it, this time with an audible thud, tearing the documents from your grip.

"I'm afraid," he sighed, "that isn't possible."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's just..." He got up from his chair, turning towards the impressive wall of photographs and awards behind him with a thoughtful expression.

"We at IML are very strict about our research going out. People out there," he clicked his tongue in disapproval, "they are like seagulls. They just can't get enough and steal everything—even our contracts. We can't risk losing another battle in front of a judge just because they copied and overwrote all of our hard work. They will misuse and abuse all of our creations and studies for their capitalistic goals. All while we fight for those without voices. Once someone leaves the facility... they won't be allowed back. To protect what needs to be protected. You understand that, right?"

The Professor looked back at you with a defeated yet unwavering expression, and you gave him a slow nod. To be fair, you didn't really get it. Weren't those wanting to see the research also interested in protecting the ocean like the IML Research Facility? Yet, you knew firsthand how competitive this field was, given your lack of work opportunities.

Staring at the papers in front of you, you couldn't help but want to read through them before signing something that was so preciously protected. But on the other hand, this might just be the chance. If you left without risking anything, who knew if you'd ever find something as distinguished and aligned with your own goal as this facility was?

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

[cosmowgyral]

Villain's Festival 2025

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

⊹▸ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

Time passed, and the tide of battle shifted constantly.

The only thing that remained unchanged was the number of people still standing in the training ground.

All twelve members of Crown and Vogel kept fighting, not a single one falling.

Liam: Hah…!

Liam pushed off the ground, his legs bending like springs as he leapt gracefully.

He vanished mid-air using his ability—then kicked off the wall to change direction, launching a surprise attack on Darius.

Few could evade an invisible attack. And yet…

Darius: Your scent is quite distinctive… I can recognize it instantly, Liam Evans.

As if he could see him perfectly, Darius raised his cane.

A dull impact rippled through Liam’s abdomen.

Liam: gh…!?

The force of Darius’ cane broke Liam’s concentration, dispelling his ability.

Even as he rolled across the ground, Liam quickly regained his stance.

Seeing that, Darius started clapping, as if he had just witnessed a circus act.

Darius: Wow… Impressive, aren’t you?

Darius: Taking a hit mid-air and still landing so gracefully… You really are like a cat.

Liam: And you… your sense of smell is sharp, huh? Looks like I can’t rely on my ability alone now.

Liam’s eyes gleamed, like a cat ready to pounce on its prey.

Darius: You’re not giving up, huh? …Do you want to be the strongest that badly?

Liam lunged at Darius, knife in hand, his eyes full of determination.

His knife moved with fluidity and unpredictability, making it difficult to read his intent.

Darius tracked the knife with his eyes and deflected it with his cane.

Liam: Of course I want to be the strongest. Because if I become the strongest, then Kate’s….

Ring: Hah…!

Just as Liam was about to finish his sentence, Ring came at him with a slash.

Liam instinctively raised his knife to shield himself, but he couldn’t fully absorb the impact and was sent flying backward.

Ring: If you want to go after Dari, you’ll have to get through me first!

Protecting Dari—this instinct was ingrained in Ring, who had always safeguarded Vogel.

However…

Darius: Hey, Ring.

Ring: Ugh…?! *coughs*

As he tried to protect Darius, Ring took a thrust to the abdomen from his cane, causing him to gag.

Darius: This fight isn’t about Crown or Vogel… It’s about deciding who’s the strongest, isn’t it?

Darius: I want to burn the sight of the cursed ones fighting freely and fiercely into my memory.

Darius: That’s why… you don’t need to take my side, Ring.

Ring: …But

Darius: ‘But’? I wasn’t aware of this… Since when did you become smart and strong enough to talk back to me, Ring?

Ring: ….Ri-right. Sorry.

The moment Ring apologized, Jude came slashing at his back with fierce momentum.

Ring: ….gh!

Sensing the attack, Ring swung his sword backward to shield himself.

Their blades clashed, sending Jude’s sword ricocheting off in an unexpected direction.

Jude: How the hell didja pull that off? Ain’t never heard of a mutt with eyes in the back o’ its head.

Ring: Your killing intent was so intense… No way I wouldn’t notice.

Their swords clashed again, and Jude and Ring locked eyes in a tense standoff.

Darius: …Sorry about that. Our darling guard dog tends to be a bit overprotective.

With a sidelong glance at Jude and Ring, Darius turned his attention back to Liam.

Liam: About what you said to Ring earlier… couldn’t you have been a bit gentler?

Reproaching him as he spoke, Liam resumed his attack, his sharp thrust aimed straight for Darius’ heart.

Darius: I thought I was being plenty kind already.

Darius tilted his head, as if unsure what he was being blamed for, and blocked Liam’s attack with his staff.

Darius: If it bothers you that much… why not become a part of our family? Then you can meddle all you like.

Darius: You’re cursed, and that invisibility of yours is quite impressive. I’d be more than happy to have you.

Liam: …I’m not really cut out to be a part of a family.

Liam gave a wry smile at Darius’ offer.

And with a swift flip, Liam thought he had dodged Darius’ attack—but that wasn’t the case.

Liam: Huh?!

What met his eyes was Elbert darting in his direction, having moved to evade Nica’s attack.

Elbert: Ah….

In the next moment, Elbert tangled with Liam’s foot, and as he instinctively reached out, he grabbed hold of Liam, pulling him down with him.

Losing their balance, the two of them tumbled to the ground.

Elbert: I am sorry, Liam. I lost my balance while fighting Nica…

Liam: Now’s not the time to apologize! Get off me, Elbie!

As a result of their fall, Elbert had ended up practically sitting on top of Liam, pinning him to the ground.

Nica: Ahaha, what kinda fall was that? Hilarious….but don’t think I’m gonna go easy on you because of it.

Without missing a beat, Nica fired a shot at Liam and Elbert.

They quickly regained their footing, and Elbert swung his sword with lightning speed.

A sharp clang echoed as the blade met with the bullet midair.

The bullet veered off course and grazed the training hall.

Nica: ….Oh? You managed to deflect that? Your reflexes aren’t half bad.

Elbert: ….That’s not true. I just predicted where you would aim and blocked it.

Nica: Well then, think you can dodge the next one?

Nica’s gun was once again aimed at Elbert.

At that moment, his arm brushed against Darius’ shoulder as he stood nearby.

Darius: ..Nica, you might want to watch your footing.

Nica: Did you just catch a glimpse of my worst possible future?

Darius: Yeah. You’re about to make a fool of yourself.

Nica: Haha, a fool huh? I’m kinda curious to see how that’s gonna play out.

[Chapter 2] [Masterlist] [Chapter 4]

➽──────────────❥

Dari's behavior toward Ring didn’t really sit well with me. That deceptive smile paired with his intense glare definitely gives me Gilbert vibes from IkePri. And don’t even get me started on that cane—. 😆 But then again, I totally love Gilbert.

Also, we get to know that he has a sharp nose..

And at the end, when he warned Nica about his probable future with that 'watch your footing' remark, I just knew what was coming. Poor Nica. 😭💔

[goodomensafterdark]

The GOAD Epic Goblins present - The Serpent and The Owl Volume 0 - The World I Created - Chapter 1

Thank you @quona for this gorgeous artwork!!

Chapter written by @kotias

As per the teaser video shared on Saturday on our subreddit...

We made it.

February 19th, 2024: launch date of the epic fic project.

January 19th, 2025: the publishing of the epic fic, named The Serpent and the Owl, starts.

11 months in the making. Wow.

Total amount of people who wrote or made art for this epic fic: 

69 writers and artists. 

Nice.

Total amount of people involved in the project: 

75 people, including:

35 writers

31 artists

4 creators who took on both writing and art

5 betas (+3 writers and 1 artist who took on the task)

1 podficcer

This is the first part of a series in 7 parts.

Expect a new chapter of this epic fic every Wednesday and Sunday for the next 6 months.

And I promise: there is a happy ending to this story. Just not quite yet.

When I launched this crazy idea, based on Soggy’s request on the GOAD Writers Guild subreddit, I would never have thought it would turn into this.

Hell, part of me didn’t believe the project would succeed. 

Did I wish very hard it would? Yes, of course.

Was I fully convinced it would? No. With such an endeavour, with so many people involved, and a full narration to develop with dozens of participants, I had no way of being certain of it.

And yet, look at this: it’s ready, after 11 months, to be shown to this subreddit and to the Good Omens fandom.

I cannot begin to find the right words to express how I'm feeling as well. This feels a little surreal; we managed to make something cohesive, might I even say a good story, with so many people involved.

Thank you all Epic Goblins so much for being such amazing people to work with ❤️

I have to say... seeing the first bits of conversations that we had on this project, and remembering how everyone was confused and scared at first, throwing ideas left and right and trying to even start to having something coherent and cohesive...

We're finally there, and it's beautiful and glorious and it's thanks to everyone and.... ❤️

Enormous thank you to @theravenmuse for your undying support during this entire endeavour. It took months, but hell, thank you for holding the fort when I wasn't able to, and for this gorgeous spreadsheet that helped us keep track of EVERYTHING.

My most sincere thanks to my dear lieutenants and Art General: @quona @eybefioro @whatareyou42 @gaiaseyes451 @theonewiththeshippinggoogles

You have all done amazingly to keep the teams together, to wrangle them, whether I was here or not, and working so hard to find a cohesion within each team and a narrative direction for each story that was created within the greater narration.

And of course, thank you to everybody involved.

Thank you for trusting me and for following me here. And ENORMOUS thank you to our betas, who have been phenomenal: ModernDayKlutz, DBacklot, WiblyWoblyTimeyWimey, GlitteringRock, ireallyneedmoretea, itsscottiesstark, TheGaroMask, Abaddon Sahar, cordsycords, without whom this fic would not have gotten to the quality it has reached today.

I love you all, thank you all so much for embarking in this crazy adventure with me. We’re done. And we did remarkably well. I am very honoured of having been given your trust, all of you.

I won’t lie, I've been crying from the emotion quite a bit in the last couple of months, and got very teary eyed writing this blurb. :')

Please enjoy the very first chapter to this epic fic project, starting with Volume 0: The World I Created, Ch.1: Bringing upon the Dawn

Word count: 3418 words

Tags (for the whole fic): Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space, Crowley is a Singularity, Aziraphale is an bird alien, Slow Burn, Porn With Worldbuilding, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Major character death, but… Reincarnation AU, Eventual Happy Ending, not in this part though, Inappropriate use of astronomy, Original People, Monsterfucker Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cloaca, Hemipenes, Crowley is a naga, Crowley is a Giant Snake, Star Snake, This is an epic, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Power Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Crowley (Good Omens), Oral Sex, Crowley's enemy is Life itself, War, Intercelestial War,Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Communicating (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley is Down Bad (Good Omens)

TW/CW (for this chapter): blood, death, war

Summary:

~This story starts, as it will end, in the stars.~

Crawly is a singularity, born in the Empty and thriving in it, until the day Life settles into the universe. As that happens, she descends onto the planets in her vicinity.

Several centuries, maybe even millennia, pass; Crawly got integrated enough in the society of a planet that she (I'll go with she/her pronouns) is the long-standing Queen and main deity of that planet.

Aziraphale comes as a scientist from another planet that hers made an agreement with; thus begins their relationship. Crawly slowly comes to terms with her feelings with Aziraphale as their story evolves and their travels through the galaxy continue.

Excerpt:

Of all the places that Jala could have expected to find the Mother of All Suns, the cemetery of a remote village wasn’t her immediate thought; and yet, when she saw Her, there was no possible doubt.

A statue was standing on a pedestal, holding a sword in front of her legs. She had her eyes closed peacefully, her eternal beauty remained in her stone flesh, a lone ruby shining on her forehead like a diadem. Her hair fell like a veil from her head over her shoulders, arms and waist, circling her entirely.

Jala was certain of one thing; anybody who didn’t need her presence or believe in her would have passed this statue by without much thought, or might have just recognised the shape of the statue as an ancient former Queen of the planet. Jala however remained in awe before it for a very long time, pulled in by its magnitude.

She eventually closed the distance between them, climbing on the pedestal and rising to meet her gaze, raising a hand to stroke the stone cheek. “How long we have looked for you, my Queen,” she whispered, a tear breaking from her eye and trickling down her face. “How desperately we craved your presence.”

The statue remained lifeless between her fingers, but Jala smiled. The end was nigh.

Keep reading here!

~Kotias

[bloomzone]

2025 : #19 The Power of Working in Private

I will share a story that truly changed the way I look at success and failure. It’s about a friend of mine, let’s call her x and another one Y

✒️..X was everything you’d expect an overachiever to be . She constantly let everyone know how hard she was working, reminding us all that she was aiming for the highest grades. Every day, she posted pictures of her meticulously organized study materials, shared her "I’m working so hard" In a way, X seemed unstoppable. It was like she had everything figured out. The grind was her identity, and the world knew about it.

But X failed the semester.She didn’t just fall behind she FAILED.

The entire class was shocked. How could someone who seemed to work harder than anyone else not succeed?

X had become obsessed with showing everyone how hard she was working. She posted about it, talked about it, and craved validation for her effort. But the problem She wasn’t actually working the way she needed to. She wasn’t putting in the deep, focused work required for success. She was more concerned about the image of success than the substance.

Meanwhile, there was another student in our class, Y , who worked completely differently. Y didn’t post her study sessions or boast about her goals. In fact, she didn’t announce anything. She just worked quietly focusing solely on understanding the material, practicing, and improving herself without needing validation from anyone. She was low-key, but laser-focused.

When the final grades came in, Y had one of the highest scores in the class.

But Y wasn’t shocked at all. She knew her work had paid off.

And X was devastated, realizing too late that she had spent so much time proving her dedication that she never actually developed the skills she needed to succeed.

Why Do We Seek Validation Instead of Success?

X story is one that many of us can relate to. It’s easy to fall into the trap of wanting to be seen as hardworking, of craving external validation that we’re doing the right thing.Validation feels like progress, but it’s not.When you tell someone, “I studied for five hours last night,” and they reply with, “Wow, that’s impressive!” your brain gets a little dopamine boost. You feel good, but u haven’t actually learned anything. You haven’t actually moved the NEEDLE .

This is why so many of us whether in school, work, or life struggle to turn effort into results. We get caught up in the appearance of progress rather than focusing on real, tangible improvement.

In the age of social media and constant updates, it’s easy to feel like you’re making progress just by sharing how much you’re working. But deep down, you know that real success doesn’t come from likes, comments, or praise. It comes from what you actually accomplish when no one’s watching.

The Mindset Shift: From Validation to Execution

If you want to be truly successful, you need to make a shift in how you approach ur work. Stop chasing recognition and start chasing real improvement.Think about the most successful people u know the best students, the top entrepreneurs, the greatest athletes. Do you hear them talking about how hard they’re working all the time? No NEVER

They’re too busy doing the actual work. They’re not posting their progress or waiting for people to notice. They let their results do the talking.

U see, when you stop caring about proving yourself to others, you free yourself to actually focus on becoming the best version of yourself even if u cry u cry for yourself then get up . u remove the pressure to impress , and toxic judging, and you get to work quietly, diligently, with one goal in mind: mastery.

What Happens When You Work in Private?

1. You Remove Unnecessary Pressure : X always felt the need to maintain her image as the smartest student. She needed to show everyone that she was doing her best. But that pressure ended up being counterproductive. It distracted her from the true goal: understanding the material.

When you work in private, you get rid of that stress. You’re not constantly worried about what others think. You can focus purely on improving and mastering the task at hand without distractions.

2. You Build True Confidence : X confidence came from external validation. She thrived on people telling her how hardworking she was. Y confidence, on the other hand, came from knowing that she had actually put in the work and earned her success.

When you work in private, your confidence becomes unshakable. It’s built on your actual progress, not on how others perceive you.

3. You Avoid Premature Criticism and Distractions : By constantly posting updates, X opened herself up to distractions and premature criticism. The opinions of others, the need to compare herself to others, and the pressure to keep up with her image all took their toll.

Y didn’t get involved in any of that. She stayed focused on her journey, and that allowed her to perform at a much higher level without all the noise that comes with seeking validation.

4. You Become Unstoppable : When you stop seeking approval and start focusing on becoming the best at what you do, something powerful happens. You become unstoppable. You don’t need motivation from others. You don’t need praise. Your drive comes from within, and that internal fuel propels u toward excellence.

How to Adopt the ‘Work in Private’ Mindset

1. Stop Announcing, Start Doing

When u set a big goal—whether it’s acing an exam, launching a business, or learning a new skill keep it to yourself. Let the work speak for itself. Instead of announcing your plans, just get to work. Your results will make all the noise you need.

2. Focus on Deep, Meaningful Work

It’s easy to fall into the trap of appearing productive, but real success comes from deep, focused work. Focus on truly understanding, creating, and improving, not just on looking busy.

3. Let Your Results Speak

The most powerful proof of your hard work? The results. When you put in the effort, the results will show, and people will take notice. And if they don’t? It won’t matter. Because by then, you’ll already be winning.

The loudest people in the room may get the most attention, but the silent workers are the ones who change everything. While they seek validation, you build. While they perform, you improve. And when the results finally show? There’s no need to announce them. Success speaks for itself. And urs will be undeniable.

@bloomzone

[jazeswhbhaven]

Demon Butler Buffet, Enjoy your stay | April Fools' Event 2025 | React/Recap Spoilers Part 1

Henlo everyone, I'm finally back into my react groove and hopefully nothing else fucking happens with my health (crossing fingers)

So this is going to be just a recap of everything since it's been like a week or so since the break between the story parts and there's an update tonight/morning! The second part will probably be more detailed honestly, so expect very little writing and more screenshot action lol

Summary/Recap!

Basically, we start off the story by looking into Solomon never losing a bet, ever. But this is not the case with MC. They found themselves in a pickle while in Abyssos, losing a bet...and now they've gotta pay up.

Not only do they have to pay up, but they have to in Earth currency?! So MC sends off Ppyong to get 1 millon Won they saved up in their bank account, only to then be told they were gone for so long that their bank account is frozen!

I mean, this would make a lot of sense though, considering that in Minhyeok's side story in main, MC had been gone long enough for him to do the anniversary of visiting MC's parents.

In order to get the money needed, the kings are going to have to make that moneyyyy for MC! Meaning they're going to get a part-time job on Earth, but the question is...how can they?

It is known that they could just teleport there, however this would cause all of humanity to simply crush and go insane. Remember the Cthulu theory if he appears? Sorta the same, basically the Kings can't all be on Earth at the same time or everyone dies. And it also explains why Asmo can visit by himself or that one time when Mammon and his nobles went to Earth for his birthday (y'all remember that little selfie! I would dig for it but phew it would take forever)

And this is where we are introduced to Zepar, who is Zagan's prior mentor and what seems to be close friend or...something more. Now the reason I poke at the the something more, dipping into Zepar and Zagan's dynamic is that Zepar seems to hold some kind of resentment toward his prior disciple. He also comments that Zagan is nearly as strong as he thought he would be using the talisman's and there seems to be something they were supposed to do together (travel Hell together? or further?) and instead Zepar is stuck in Abaddon and Zagan has his freedom. That's all they really bothered to dwell on, so that's all I have to go off of.

In the meantime though, Zepar uses red talismans which are much stronger in magic, but come with a price. Each devil will experience something while on Earth that's not of their character. This will only take effect during the use of the talismans while they are on Earth.

And with that explained, MC and the Kings are transported to Earth, specifically to a Host/Hostess cafe that's throwing a themed Maid/Butler event. This is where we meet the store manager, Lizzy, and later Jihoon who oddly looks like Yoosung from MysMes but he's way more fuckboish lmao.

The store manager explains the role of being a butler to the boys but uh the majority of them don't understand what that means. It appears that only Lucifer and Leviathan are keen on what it means to be one. Also during this time, Satan is doing unhinged shit as per usual that screams cat behavior lol

Mammon is doing pretty well, but he's more channeling his inner "Bimet", Beel is uh himself (other than his pale skintone wow) and while Leviathan is doing well, he's very forgetful, seems to be the affect from the talismans. But also to note, Asmodeus can't get hard, and Belphegor giggles a lot when he's awake. Lucifer seems to be more gentle and nice which is unlike him (though we find out in his recent L card that this isn't an effect of the talisman but his true nature when he's in butler mode) but MC doesn't know that yet. For Satan, his speak is off, for Beel, he's more clumsy and not as hungry, and Mammon? Well I wasn't too certain what his side effect was, he seemed very normal. But also who was killin' it in the Butler department was none other than Luci <3 but with context now from his card, we all know why that is! He was born for it.

Either way, the boys are doing their best during the event to sell the most merch and "win" the most money. During this time we see the customers acting similar to how the fandom probably would if we saw them irl. There's even a thing where they try to take photos of the Kings and can't catch their human forms on camera, but we see...their true forms reflected instead which was a neat detail that I liked. So for the butler outfits for the boys, we see them sprouting the traditional tux with tight slacks to show off their "assets". But a fun little surprise is Levi wearing a maid outfit complete with stockings. I swear he always gets the best stuff. An even bigger surprise though is when Levi lifts his skirt and there's...an animal tail, in the form of a butt plug! Satan does mention that the tails look uncomfortable to deal with and it made me think, ah man he doesn't like butt stuff normally does he? Which is fine, though that means you'd reallllyyy have to convince him to let you peg him. Belphie though seemed eager to put one on (hehehehehehe), and apparently it's Asmo that has supplied this for everyone.

So after this little display and having the customers go around trying to "grab" their tails, the store completely sells out! So now that MC can take a break, they find Jihoon in the changing/break room area by his lonesome and he seems to be sulking about not being the center of attention for the day. Not only that but uh...he starts flirting casually with MC???? This rightfully pisses off MC, because this whole time that was most likely his goal to sneak off with MC and not even work. But Levi and Luci come to their rescue! Poor Lizzy, she actually likes a guy like that.... shame shame.

Speaking of Lizzy, it seems that she has some expenses she needs to pay for and worries about it. She especially mentions that Jihoon fucking borrowed money and hasn't paid it back yet. MC gets angry at him again, and Satan senses this, and asks what's up. After a quick rundown, Satan and the Kings decide to give Lizzy things that are worth a lot of money so she can sell them and get the money she needs for all her expenses!

Now for the Kings and the "winner?" Well...there isn't one. The store manager explained that since they all worked the same hours they all get the same pay. That's all fine and dandy, but it doesn't prove who sold the most! And despite MC's debt being paid off, that's pretty much all that matters rn to them, especially Satan.

And we find out that the nobles followed behind to watch their respective Kings at the cafe and I find that super cute.

And that ends the rough summary of part 1 of this event! You know what time it is....

Screenshots!

Don't yell at the bby (yes I know he's a grown demon man but don't yell at himmmm)

Ooo the ground sinkin', he's so l a r g e ain't he?

hehehehhehehe my OC's hubby/babydaddy is cute

Asmo coaching you for your OF would actually be hilarious. I'd write that.

I swear Leviathan everyday with you

Beel is so cute when he does this honestly. Since I'm short, my friends would do this to me as an affectionate thing :3

The whole gangs hereeeeeeeee

Bimet the scammer right on time tryna collect some coin

Yes Levi because the hate fuck afterward would be n a s t y which is why I'd even bother doing anything like this in front of you in the first place. 💀

LMAO Satan really said "Ain't my problem" and proceeds to be excited until everyone brings up that MC would never forgive him if that happened

No like when are we gonna see the cutie in the middle??? I know he's overly horny as fuck but idkkkkk he seems adorable to me

That's so cute, he considers them friends even though they hate him lmao my poor unfortunate narcissist <3

Okay so the majority of the time Asmo was carrying Belphie and I think that shit was so cute. Like I know Asmo is sweating cum because Belphie's barely clothed body is against him but it's like awh no one else offered to carry him so

Confirmed that he likes to use puppets and what we saw before was just one of his many puppet creations. I wonder if there are other designs...

I'm crying, Belphie really thought MC was in the mood and was willing to strip right in front of everyone. He really just don't give a fuck.

it seems, that there's a lot of history here...and that there's a lot for Zagan and Zepar to come to terms with. Though I would say that Zepar has already accepted the "it is what it is" mantra and Zagan is holding on to a distant memory. I feel sorry for him honestly and Zepar probably had more "life" to him back then. Just like Zagan used to talk more.

damn he didn't have to do him like that

Aye, not too much on Luci now...or we about to box once again Levi

Lizzy! :3 I enjoyed her

knowing the context now of why he's doing this makes it all the better omg 🥺❤❤

MC is cute here. But also, yes me too MC....me too.

This man is gonna have a few more wrinkles after today lmaooo he was stressed out the entire time

Sir. 😒

the storage room would be fine with me

Yeah that thang is thangin on a daily basis 💀💀💀

AND that concludes Part 1 of my React! Part 2 will just be more screenshots, since I pretty much summed up the entire story so far here. See ya over yonder~ (click below to go to the next post! for some reason it didn't show up in the tags...hrm)