#at face value this just sounds a bit ridiculous

[aerial-jace]

The Kamakura period is such a funny time in the history not only of Buddhism but of religion in general, if you think about it. When else do you get such whacky dudes such as "guy who preaches that all practices other than reciting a guy's name even just once are ineffective at breaking free from the cycle of reincarnation and is shocked, SHOCKED I tell you that people interpret that as permission to abandon all moral discipline" and "guy who thinks the reason so many natural disasters are happening is because people are reading the wrong books from his religion and to remedy that he teaches everyone to repeatedly chant the title of his favorite book in hopes that somehow this will impart the book's wisdom"?

[writersdrug]

Price getting reader a step stool cause she keeps asking Bartender!Ghost to reach stuff for her. Simon obviously brakes it when no ones looking. 👀🤭

LOL

"Is this your way of insulting me?" You ask, holding the colorful, children's stepstool in your hands. You're grimacing at it, a look that has Price chuckling as he folds up the bag from the store.

"I figured you could use it - now ya don't have to wait for Simon to grab anything for you." He says, patting you on the shoulder.

"I don't mind the wait..." You mumble under your breath. The stool feels as decorative as a clowns nose as you tuck it under your arm and head towards the stairs. "I'm keeping it upstairs, I don't need customers laughing at me when I pull this out. Might take it home and spray paint it."

"Suit yourself." Price calls as you bound up the stairs. He heads over to the bar, where Simon is currently polishing the glasses you convinced him to order for the Halloween drink.

"Got a problem with me helpin' 'er?" Simon says, thick fingers rubbing the glass with a rag. He doesn't mean to sound defensive... but he can't help the bite in his tone.

Price smirks, picking up on the jealousy laced into Simon's words. "Thought you might like it. Makes your life easier, and 'ers." He pops open the register and starts filtering through the bills, replacing the larger value ones with smaller ones.

"You don't think I'm capable of runnin' a bar and helping you waitress at the same time?"

"No, but I think you'd be better off if you didn't have to run so much. She's brought in so much business as it is, your workload's gotten heavier."

Simon huffs. "Ya just want to separate us, hm? Want 'er all to yourself." He jokes, grabbing another glass and buffing it.

Price shrugs. "And if I am?" He says, giving him a side glance.

Ghost slows his ministrations, turning his head to his captain. They both stare at each other for a moment, Simon with his slightly angry, slightly questioning glare, and Price with his unwavering eyes. Simon wants to tell him to back down, that you're his - but he can't say that, because you aren't his. He wants you to be. But he doesn't know how to make it happen without letting his walls down.

Price chuckles, turning back to the register to continue swapping bills. "Y'know, if you want to say somethin' you'd best say it." He comments, snapping the drawer shut. "Missed opportunities often come from miscommunication."

He leaves Simon at the bar, heading towards the stairs with his money folder. You jog down the steps and nearly crash into him - he quickly grabs your shoulders and spins you out of the way before you can collide with him. You throw a "sorry!" over your shoulder as you carry an armful of various fruits, leaving Price chuckling as he ascends the stairs to the office.

"The oranges up there aren't looking too great." You chirp, dumping the fruit onto his workspace. A few lemons and limes roll onto the floor, and you bend down to chase them. Simon watches you, a bit miffed at how unaware you were of the situation. What do you think of Price? Do you like him? Would you flirt with him as much as you do with Simon?

You return with the escaped fruit. "I can run to Sevvy's store and grab some for tonight, if you want? The ones upstairs are looking a bit pruney."

"Are you actually gonna use that thing?"

"Huh?" You look at him with confusion written on your face. "What thing?"

"The stool." He looks down at you, his expression unreadable. "'S a bit demeaning, don'tcha think?"

You paused, watching him move the fruit to the side and grab a plastic cutting board. "I mean... he bought it, and I wouldn't have to bug you so much. If I spray paint it black or something, it won't look that ridiculous."

He nods. "Hm."

"I used it to grab the fruit."

"That's interestin'." He mumbles, slicing through an orange. You were right, they have seen better days.

He turns to pop open the register and hands you some bills. "Go get a few oranges, no more than ten. Order should be comin' in tomorrow."

You smile and take the money, stuffing it in your back pocket. With a few hours remaining before the restaurant opens, you go through the kitchen, grab your jacket, and head out the back.

Simon's back to chopping fruit and dumping it into a small bin, bitterly thinking over what Price had said. It's a stool. Price got it to help you and himself. It was a thoughtful purchase. But it's not just that. However unserious this is to Price, he's trying to rile Simon up. He's treating you like the last slice of cake in the tin - Price would like to have it, but he knows Simon's groveling for it. He's forcing Simon to ask for what he wants, and the bartender doesn't like that one bit. Normally, it wouldn't be something that irks him so easily - but this is you we're talking about. Not just anything. You. He wants to grab Price by the collar and throw him into next week with how he's trying to wedge between you and Simon - but he doesn't like having a weakness. He'll keep his cool for now. He'll make a move... eventually.

For now, the only aggressive side he'll present is passive.

Price leaves late that night, somewhere between two and three in the morning. He's beat, spending most of the night between helping you run food and drinks, and fifo-ing the pantry and overflow rooms. He's planning for a day off - of course, after he goes to the bank and comes back here to pay everyone. He's jealous of Simon, who's already upstairs for the night - he wishes he only had a short trip to the third floor before he could crash into his bed. Rather, he has to trek a hefty number of blocks home through the dark streets. He's more worried about going to bed at a decent hour than walking around at night with a bag full of money - people usually steer clear of him when they see his stature.

He locks the back door behind him, puffing out a foggy breath into the frigid air. It's only getting colder - he'll have to break out his cloves and scarf soon. The beanie won't be enough. He shoves one hand into his pocket, the other holding a small bag of trash from the office. He mentally ticks off what he needs to do this week as he grabs the garbage bins, dragging them behind him and towards the street for the trucks to empty in the morning. He pushes them against the store front, taking the lid off and dropping the light trash bag inside.

The loud thunk makes him do a double take. Did he throw away something important? He lifts the bag once again, and a disappointed expression falls upon his face. The colorful kiddie stool he bought for you is there, pieces snapped apart and shoved deep into the bin. Simon didn't even try to hide it underneath the other bags. It's almost like he left it there for Price to catch.

He sighs, dropping the bag and placing the lid back. He trudged down the sidewalk towards his home - he's not too upset by it. He had a feeling Ghost was sinking his teeth into you, and frankly, it's gotten to the point where Price is afraid of what the man might do if someone else tries to take you away. But damn, if his ex-lieutenant's going to make a move, he'd better make a fucking move. For your sake, if not his own.

He pulls his phone from his pocked and shoots Simon a quick, blunt message.

You're paying me back for that.

[hannieehaee]

PINK IN THE NIGHT

18+ / mdi

summary: you were like forbidden fruit for joshua; simply unattainable. no matter how much he wanted you, he knew you were jeonghan's. but what joshua didn't seem to realize was that his best friend was more than happy to share.

content: bf!jeonghan x reader, bf'sbestfriend!joshua x reader, cucking, afab reader, jeonghan's just rlly happy to see his two fave people together (in any and every context), voyeurism, poly dynamics, oral (m and f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 8.5k

a/n: thank u to everyone who showed interest in this fic when i first brought it up i hope u guys enjoy!!

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

Joshua wasn't sure how much more he would take.

From the moment he had seen his best friend walk into the room with you by his side, he knew he was done for.

Granted, that had been the first time he had ever met Jeonghan's girlfriend, but all it had taken was one simple look for his ability to reason to completely leave him.

He wasn't sure what it had been. Maybe it was the confident grin on your face (one matching with that of Jeonghan's), or maybe the pretty dress you were wearing. Perhaps it was how affectionate you seemed towards Jeonghan (a trait that always drew Joshua to women). Or maybe it was just a bit of everything. He hadn't needed to get to know you, or even hear the sound of your voice before deciding he was infatuated by you. You were just his type.

His belief of you being tailored specifically for his liking was further confirmed upon Jeonghan's introduction of the two of you. Your personality just went with Joshua's perfectly. The two of you even shared a myriad of common interests, with the main one sadly being Jeonghan. Amidst his interest in you, Joshua had to keep it clear in his mind that you were spoken for. You were Jeonghan's, and that was something he just needed to respect.

Despite that having been your first meeting, Joshua had been made aware of your existence months in advance. It had been during a period of time when Joshua was away for individual promotions that you and Jeonghan had first met and eventually started dating. Joshua heard a lot about you through the phone and through text, but had been the last member to actually meet you. From Jeonghan's multiple accounts, you seemed like the perfect match for his unpredictable and slick-tongued friend. Upon meeting you, this description was thoroughly confirmed. Not only did your angelic appearance match that of Jeonghan's, but your peculiar personality was almost the same as his best freind's (and his too). You truly checked all boxes for the perfect partner for Jeonghan, and unfortunately, for Joshua too.

Now, it all could've been perfect had his pesky feelings not gotten in the way. What he had at first assumed to be simple physical infatuation was later confirmed to be actual emotional feelings. The more the got to know you, the more he liked you. And sadly for Joshua, he spent way more time with you than he would've liked.

Jeonghan was truly a family man in every sense of the word. There was nothing he loved and valued more than his family, as they were his drive in life. To him, family meant anyone he held close in his heart; meaning his actual family, you, and his members. Since Joshua had officially taken the role of Jeonghan's best friend many years ago, it was just common sense to assume that Jeonghan would pair the two of you up quite often in order to hang out with two of his favorite people. However, there were times in which it got a bit ridiculous.

For instance, a few weeks back when there had not been enough space in the car driving you to the airport and Jeonghan suggested you sit on Joshua's lap, saying something about how he was too weak to take any amount of weight on his lap for such an extended period of time. Now, that had to be out of the ordinary for a guy to do with his friend and girlfriend, right? Having your best friend hold your girl so close to him – on his lap – while she bounced every so often due to the commotion of the vehicle? That had to be considered at least eighty types of strange. Not only was it torture for Joshua to become overly familiar with the floral scent coming from your pretty hair pressed against his torso (how in the hell did you know what his favorite scent was?), but the feeling of having you snuggly in his arms also didn't help.

Another instance had been one in which the three of you went out while Seventeen was touring in Japan. It had all been fine and dandy until he'd noticed the necklace you were wearing. It was matching with the one Jeonghan had given him a few weeks prior, except he had told Joshua it was meant to be a friendship necklace. Looking over at Jeonghan, he realized there was no necklace on his neck. Had he bought the three of you matching necklaces but forgotten to wear his own? Joshua could've believed this thought, except this had not been the first time Jeonghan had 'forgotten' something like this. Just a few weeks back he had realized your phone case was matching yet another one of Jeonghan's identical gifts to him, all while Jeonghan had his usual phone case. When questioned about it, Jeonghan simply shrugged and claimed he forgot, insisting in getting a picture of you and Joshua with your matching items while you coo'd at the cute 'coincidence'.

However, these simple mismatches were not the worst of it, no. The worst of it had come in the form of his very affectionate friend translating his own affections towards you and Joshua. Instead of him being the one sharing his affections, he would often decide that he wanted the two of you to be touchy with one another. Joshua wasn't sure how he fell for it every single time. His friend would be cuddling you on the couch while Joshua unsuspectedly watched a movie with the two of you, only to find himself pressed up against you two by the end of the night. Jeonghan was a sneaky and calculated man. If he wanted you and Joshua cuddling, then he would get it without even having to ask. In other instances, he would somehow manage to get the three of you holding hands as you strutted about on the streets of whichever city you were located in at the moment (Did he mention that Jeonghan also liked to take you on tour with them?), with you always being in the middle of the two.

What Joshua didn't understand was why exactly Jeonghan was so willing to share you with him. Granted, none of your interactions were impure by any means, but they were always just a little too much. Joshua had only known you for a few months, and although he was your friend, he found himself being way more physically affectionate with you than he was with any other friends of his (sans his members, of course). Except it all felt natural to him. Jeonghan had somehow managed to condition both you and Joshua to feel extreme comfort around each other; enough to never question Jeonghan's antics when it involved the two of you.

You certainly never seemed to mind Joshua constantly third wheeling you and your boyfriend. At times, Joshua even felt like you were the one who wanted him around. You'd constantly throw him flirty smiles (or at least that's what he liked to believe), you'd never hesitate to engage in whatever antics Jeonghan pulled you into (whether it was a matching hoodie that Jeonghan seemingly forgot to wear yet again or hand holding across the streets of Japan), you'd excitedly text the groupchat Jeonghan had made.

All signs pointed towards you being completely content with the situation. This was yet another part of your dynamic with his best friend that made his brain beat at itself looking for answers. Did the two of you know about his feelings? Was this just an overly dragged-out ruse fabricated by Jeonghan in order to prank him? He knew his friend to be a bit of a weirdo when it came to his shenanigans (it was part of his charm, truly), but he also knew he'd never outwardly try and humiliate Joshua like that, so it was very unlikely that this whole thing had begun with that intention. Maybe his best friend simply adored being with both you and him, making him always pair you up to maximize the time he spent with the two of you. That's what Joshua decided to go with, at least. His only issue was that he was unsure of how long he could keep his feelings for you at bay, specially with the constant proximity between you and him.

This was yet another excursion Seventeen would be taking to Japan in the form of a short tour of the country. It was also yet another instance in which Jeonghan had chosen to take you with them. Your job never had a tendency of getting in the way, so Jeonghan always took the liberty of inviting you to tag along, something neither his members nor the staff ever seemed to have a problem with. After all, you were like a little extension of Jeonghan by then; you were attached to the hip.

Although nowadays it was rare for members to share rooms, it had been decided a while back that diving the rooms into groups of two would optimize their safety; something about being more inconspicuous when checking in at the hotel by reserving less rooms. This meant that Joshua would be yet again paired up with Jeonghan, and by extension you. Joshua didn't mind this arrangement thus far. It had only occurred on two other instances by then, and both had been relatively chill sans the one time he walked in on the two of you making out (You pulled away upon noticing him, sheepishly chuckling an apology). That instance had made Joshua become addicted to the sound of your soft breath as your lips smacked against those of his best friend. He felt perverted for having this thought, but he couldn't help but relive the memory of your pliant form against Jeonghan's as he gave you the simple pleasure of a kiss.

Other than that, any and every stay in the same room had been completely calm. Surprisingly enough, the two of you never got up to any suspicious deeds while he was around. The three of you actually rarely stayed indoors while out of the country, opting instead for going out together. That had been the case for this occasion also, except that things had gone slightly differently this time.

Despite the vast size of the room, Joshua could still hear and see everything you and Jeonghan may have been up to. The darkness of the room was not enough to shield his eyes (and specially not his ears) from the familiar sound of your lips sucking and macking against each other. He could hear the soft breaths in between your kisses, and could also take in the quiet moans you released while kissing his friend.

It was the middle of the night when Joshua had woken up from his slumber due to the ruffling of sheets next to his bed. And now he found himself quietly listening in on the fondling you and Jeonghan were currently engaged in, completely unaware that he was awake.

"H- hannie ... No .. What if he hears?", you'd breathed out, words being periodically interrupted by yet another kiss from Jeonghan.

"Shh .. He won't. He wouldn't mind anyway. Who would? You sound so pretty, angel ..."

The kissing got heavier after that. He could hear the sheets shuffle even more, with your shadowy figures allowing him to figure out that your current position was that of Jeonghan fully hovering above you as he dragged his hips against yours. Joshua wasn't sure if it was just dry humping or actual penetration, but your pretty whines had him growing hard either way.

"Hannie ... Fuck ... Please."

"Gonna beg for me now? Gonna beg for me while my best friend is right here? Oh, angel, you're so filthy ..."

"J- just don't stop. Wanna cum, please ..." your breathy voice had Joshua growing even more lightheaded.

"Already? Angel's been wanting me all day, huh? Or is it him? Did you want him around? Does it turn you on that he could wake up any moment and see what a desperate little bunny you are?"

Oh, fuck.

Joshua wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that Jeonghan's dirty talk was getting to him, but the contents of his words had him spiraling. Had you mentioned Joshua to him before? Is that why he brought him up? There was no way this was the first time he had come up in conversation. Specially considering your response to the question.

"Y- yes! Want him to see .. Hannie! Fuck ..."

Your whines had still been simple quiet murmurs in order to maintain the peace and quiet of the room, but Joshua had still been able to hear your answer loud and clear.

You wanted him to know. You wanted him to see you falling apart. Maybe just as badly as he wanted to watch you.

"Oh, bunny ... What a filthy girl you are. Then cum for me, yeah? Show me how desperate you are for Joshuji to see you fall apart."

Both you and Jeonghan seemed to find your release after that, with Jeonghan burying his face in your neck as he muffled his groans of pleasure, and you doing the same. But Joshua had heard it all anyway. He had heard every single whimper and cry of pleasure from both parties involved, and now his dick was aching for release. It had taken him herculean effort to not hump against the bed at every movement he caught from his corner of the room. Now he was stuck continuing to pretend he was asleep as he heard the two of you still softly kiss each other as you shared sweet words before slumber took over you.

Somehow Joshua managed to fall asleep despite the uncomfortable boner you'd both provoked. The next morning had been a bit awkward, however. Upon waking up and walking over to the built-in kitchen in the hotel room, he found you leaning against the counter as you drank some coffee. You were wearing something that was clearly meant to make Joshua's pre-existing problem even worse – a tiny tank top paired by tiny shorts, with your nipples poking right through it. Wearing such skimpy clothing around Joshua didn't seem to bother you, seeing as you had no reaction to him seeing you like that.

Just like last night, this was sort of a first. You usually had the tendency of covering up more whenever Joshua was around. It was either out of shyness or to keep the goods for your boyfriend's eyes only. Today, though, you were quite nonchalant about it. Jeonghan too, as he simply smirked at his friend the moment he walked in, landing a quick peck to your lips before offering Joshua a coffee of his own.

The air had been weird that morning, almost as if the two of you had been teasing him. But Joshua was 100% certain the two of you would not have continued your antics if you'd actually believed he had been awake. I mean, the two of you wouldn't even kiss much while he was around. It just didn't add up.

"So, Shua, any plans for today?," it was Jeonghan who interrupted his thoughts, now with his arms wrapped around you as he stood behind you, face buried in your neck as if Joshua wasn't even there.

"Are we off today?"

"Yeah. We have the next three days off due to the weather. Probably gonna have to stay indoors as much as we can too."

"Oh, uh. I'll go see the sights, maybe. Give you guys some time to yourselves."

That got your attention.

"What? No! You can always hang with us, Joshua, you know that."

As much as the sweet words touched him, he needed to not look you in the eye too much for a bit. He needed to clear his head from the pretty sounds that had left your mouth last night; sounds that were now on replay in his head.

"It's fine. Told Seokmin and Mingyu I'd go to this one cafe they'd been meaning to check out. I'll see you guys later today though?"

He'd finished his coffee by now, opting to wash his cup before he headed over to the bathroom to get ready.

"Boooo! Fine. You can go, Joshuji. We'll find fun on our own. Right, bunny?", the smirk seemed glued to his face, just like his body seemed glued to you. Joshua knew Hannie to be affectionate, but he never really rubbed it in his face like this. Yeah, he really needed the day off from being with the happy couple.

He ignored Jeonghan in favor of going to get ready for his day. Within less than an hour he was bidding his goodbyes to the two of you, texting Seokmin that he was on his way to their shared room. Along with Mingyu and Wonwoo, the three headed out for the day, allowing Joshua a short-lived distraction from your alluring presence.

He came back to the hotel later than expected. Most of his day had been spent outdoors despite of the unfavorable weather. The atmosphere was nice regardless, so he just let the day drag on as he spent time with his friends.

It wasn't until around 9pm that he headed back to the hotel with his friends. They went their separate ways upon arriving, with each going to their respective rooms. Joshua arrived to his shared hotel room, not paying much mind to anything as he walked in. Except the sight in front of him stopped him on his tracks immediately.

Neither of you had spotted him when he first walked in. Your minds were clearly taken up by your current activity. You were facing away from the door, with your head facing down as Jeonghan's dick invaded your mouth. Jeonghan was sitting on the couch which was facing the direction of the door Joshua had just walked through, except his eyes were closed and his head thrown back. His hands were buried in your hair as he lightly pushed your face further against his crotch. The sounds of your gagging and gargling were overly filthy, making Joshua gulp at both the sound and the sight. Jeonghan's angelic moans of your name surprisingly didn't help Joshua's situation either. He found himself turned on by the sight of both you and his best friend.

It didn't take long for Jeonghan to spot Joshua as he stood frozen by the entrance. The moment Jeonghan opened his eyes, Joshua knew he was absolutely fucked. Except his friend didn't seem surprised to find him standing there, but more so pleased to see him. He threw him a smirk and began to play up his antics without once stopping your movements to inform you of Joshua's arrival.

"Oh, bunny ... Such a pretty thing, shit ... Taking my cock like the angel you are."

He began to grind against your mouth, almost full on fucking it. Joshua could hear your muffled moans against his dick from where he stood. Despite Jeonghan's sultry gaze on him, he couldn't look away, although his eyes were mostly glued to your form.

"Angel ... Gonna make me cum. Fuck, you take my cock so well, angel. Gonna swallow for me? Hmm? Gonna be good?"

You disconnected yourself from him, now licking and kissing at his tip as Jeonghan's eyes rolled back, head falling against the couch as his eyes finally left Joshua's.

"Please, Hannie ... Want your cum. Fuck my mouth? Need it so bad."

Oh, you filthy thing. Joshua had to hold back in groaning at your words. What he wouldn't give to be in Jeonghan's spot right now. He would've had to make you cum with his mouth at least three times before letting you get on your knees for him. He knew that the moment you even gave him the green light he'd be cumming in his pants. It had been months of wanting you, and the past few days in which you'd been hanging around in skimpy clothing while being overly affectionate with his best friend had gotten him extremely pent up (re: it had only been two days, but that was more than enough for Joshua). You just had this special effect on him.

As much as Joshua didn't want to admit it, the fact that you were taken by Jeonghan of all people made him want you even more. There was just something so hot about the concept of sharing you with his best friend. This thought might've explained why Joshua was almost salivating at the sight of you worshiping his best friend's cock in front of him.

"F- fuck, angel! That's it ... Take it all ... Swallow like the obedient little bunny you are ..."

It hadn't taken Jeonghan too long after that to become limp against the couch, almost forgetting about Joshua's presence. You were still seemingly clueless about him having seen the whole show.

Jeonghan made you sit on his lap after that, running his hands up and down your back and ass as your thong-covered ass faced Joshua at the perfect angle to admire the entirety of your almost fully-nude back. He squeezed and caressed at every part Joshua could only ever dream of touching.

"Let me take you to sleep, huh, baby? Need to keep your energy so I can fuck you all day tomorrow too, yeah?"

You nodded and kissed him, seemingly getting lost in the kiss immediately after, moaning and sighing against his lips as he continued to feel you up. Somehow Jeonghan managed to lead you to bed right after that, never allowing you to spot Joshua as he cleared the area for his friend to finally walk in without you realizing he had been there the whole time. Jeonghan gave Joshua a wink before Joshua finally managed to sneak into the restroom to take care of his newfound problem.

As Joshua hurriedly finished himself off as quietly as he could, knowing you were likely asleep already, he knew he was thoroughly and completely fucked.

The following morning, you were gone before he had woken up. It was just him and Jeonghan in the room now.

Joshua tentatively walked up to the island located in the small kitchen of the hotel room. Jeonghan was already leaning against it, absentmindedly eating some cereal as Joshua avoided his gaze. Upon sitting across from his view, however, Joshua felt the need to bring up what had happened last night.

"Han, listen. I'm so so-"

"Did you like it?"

He'd asked it so casually as he continued chomping on his cereal, usual look of amusement on his face.

"Did I ... like it?"

"Yeah. Did you like watching my girlfriend suck me off?"

"It was an accident, I had no idea you guys would be doing that when I walked in. You had all day for that. Why would you do it when you knew I'd be coming back? You-"

"Oh? Did I force you to stand there and watch, Joshuji? Did I hold you hostage as you salivated over my girlfriend as she gagged on my dick?", Jeonghan let out an incredulous chuckle, "Did I make you watch that other night while you pretended to sleep as I fucked her?"

Oh. He ... He knew about that?

"Han, listen, I-"

"So did you like it or not? Do you like watching my girlfriend?"

He might as well come out with it. He was well acquainted with his friend's stubborn nature. There was no reason to go in circles about it, specially now that he knew that Jeonghan had been aware of him being awake while the two of you had sex the other night.

"Yes. I .. I liked it."

"Huh. Didn't think you'd admit it that easily."

"There's more," he began before being interrupted by Jeonghan yet again.

"I know. You like her. Don't you?"

He was quite nonchalant as he said it. It unnerved Joshua like crazy. He knew his best friend to be pretty odd, but there was just no way he could be so calm about finding out his best friend was crushing on his girlfriend, was there? It wasn't like you were just some disposable fling either; Joshua knew how much Jeonghan loved you.

"How– Jeonghan, man, I'm sorry. I don't know how it happened. I never meant for it to escalate to this. I thought it was just some schoolgirl crush that I'd get over in a few weeks, but the weeks became months and ... yeah. I'm sorry. I'd never actually act up on it, you know that. You're my best friend and I like to think she's my friend too. I .. I don't know what to say. I'm sorry. Again."

Through the entirety of Joshua's speech, his best friend kept his disinterested stare as he continued to eat at his cereal. It hadn't sounded like the crush was news to Jeonghan either. It seemed like he had just been waiting for Joshua to finally fess up.

"Joshua, stop", he put his cereal down before coming closer to him, "I'm not mad. And neither is she."

"She knows?!"

He chuckled at this, "I mean, you're not exactly discreet. It was kinda funny actually. You're usually pretty smooth. Except with her, of course."

"What the hell is happening right now?"

"Okay, sit. I'll explain."

Jeonghan gestured for a very exasperated Joshua to take a seat on the chair right across from him, putting the cereal aside to give him his entire attention. He was also still wondering where you had gone this morning. Jeonghan seemed to read his mind as he absentmindedly looked back towards the bed you'd been lying on just last night.

"She went out with Boo. You don't have to worry about her coming back right now," he interjected, "Anyways. Yes. I know. Well, we know you like Y/N. We also, uh, knew you were awake that day ... That's kinda why we did it ...," for once Jeonghan showed an ounce of sheepishness at his own words.

So you'd done it on purpose? Joshua's mind was spinning by now. He was beyond embarrassed but also extremely intrigued by what was being revealed to him.

"You .. Why?"

"Joshua, listen. I've known about your crush on my girlfriend since you first met her. If it were anyone else, I'd probably hate it, but for some reason since it's you, I ... I don't seem to mind it. I don't know why that is."

"You're okay with it?"

"Let's say yeah. Let's say I don't mind. Let's say ... let's say I like it."

"You what?"

"It shouldn't come as a surprise to you. Do you think I'd let anyone else see my girlfriend walk around almost naked and say nothing? Or that I'd make it so you two touch each other all the time – even if it's purely innocent?"

Holy fuck.

"Wait. You've been doing all this on purpose? I thought you were just teasing me. Did you .. Do you want me to have her ?"

He knew it was a stupid way to pose the question, but all signs indicated towards Jeonghan wanting to push you straight into his arms. What other reason could there be for Jeonghan's actions; actions he had just claimed had been purposeful and out of his own liking. Joshua always knew Jeonghan to share and gift things to his younger brothers, but you had not been a gift he was expecting.

Jeonghan let out an incredulous chuckle yet again, confusing Joshua even further.

"I'd never just give away my angel. What I'm saying is ... I can let you play with her, but under my rules."

"P– play? Play how?"

"You're a smart guy, Joshuji, get imaginative."

"Does she .."

"Yeah. She's interested, trust me," there was amusement in his eyes, almost as if thinking back to some previous conversation he'd had with you.

As much as Joshua craved you, there was no way he could just ... have you like that. You were his best friend's girl, and you were also his friend.

"Han, I could never have ... sex with your girlfriend. You're my best friend, I ..."

"C'mon, Joshuji. Don't you wanna scratch that itch? She's been waiting for you, you know. Ever since I told her you liked her. She's been wanting you to break. And so have I. There's no harm."

"What's in it for you?", he couldn't believe he was about to agree with this proposition.

"I ... I get to watch my pretty angel be taken care of. I get to know that despite all this she's all mine and she'll do anything I want for me, always", Jeonghan's eyes began to darken at the thoughts seemingly running through his mind, his breath getting heavier just at the thought, "I get to have her every night afterwards, knowing she'd be plaguing yours."

Joshua was embarrassed, but he understood. If he had you, he'd also wanna hold you as temptation.

"So what do you say?", he finally awoke from his short-lived trance.

Joshua couldn't believe himself right now, but the lust he'd been feeling for you for months took over and he found himself agreeing.

"Yes."

Apparently Jeonghan had already made arrangements with you for later that night. He had been so confident he could convince Joshua to agree that he had already given you the green light, and well, he had been right. It had not taken Joshua too many mental gymnastics to know he wanted to have you somehow. He wasn't sure what this would mean for your future friendship, but that was something he'd worry about later.

For now, he was losing his mind.

A few hours after his conversation with Jeonghan, he had been asked by the man himself to wait inside the restroom in order to 'give you some time to prepare.' He was yet to see you at all today, which made him even more anxious. He could hear the two of you talking and giggling through the door, though he couldn't quite make out what you were saying.

Suddenly the door was opened, with a Yoon Jeonghan grinning mischievously at Joshua, gesturing for him to come out. Upon re-entering the bedroom area of the hotel room, he saw you on the bed.

You looked utterly angelic, sitting on your knees above the bed, very light makeup on and soft white lingerie. Had anyone asked him, he would've thought you were an angel. You looked far too beautiful for any man to resist.

His eyes stayed glued to your soft gaze as Jeonghan guided him to get on the bed with you. What he wasn't really expecting (although thinking back, he should've), was for Jeonghan to get on the bed too. You were all now facing each other on the bed, no words spoken as you stared at one another. Both him and Jeonghan matched your almost undressed state, donning only a pair of boxers and a thin tank top each.

"Joshuji ... Doesn't she look beautiful? Hmm? Got all pretty for you."

Oh. Had you dressed up for him? He should've known. You looked like you'd come straight out of one of his dreams. He always loved when you wore light and soft colors. You always looked so pretty and innocent like that.

"Y– yeah ... She looks so– "

"Say it to her, Joshuji," Jeonghan's hand had reached out to lightly caress your skin, running a finger up and down your thigh.

"You look like a dream", said Joshua while staring directly into your eyes.

You gave him a soft smile, daring hand reaching out to touch his knee as his breath caught in his throat.

"Thank you, Joshie ... Hope I didn't scare you with all this. Hannie told me he caught you off guard this morning," Jeonghan chuckled at this.

"N– no, it's okay. I ... I've wanted you too .. It's mutual, I promise."

You suddenly reached out to caress his cheek, catching him off guard for a moment before he allowed himself to lean into your touch, "Yeah? I know, Joshie ... You like me too, huh? Hannie told me. It was so cute seeing you scramble every time. But it's okay now, right? Now we can all play .."

The eyes you gave him as you said it had him gulping. His usually confident demeanor always disappeared with you around, specially now. It also didn't help that he could see his friend's smirk on his peripheral.

"Wanna play, Joshuji? How do you want her first?"

"Oh, I ...", he had no idea where to start. He felt too surveilled to do anything. There was just too much pressure.

"How about I show you how to treat my angel, hmm? Then you get to have your fun," Hannie interrupted Joshua's thinking.

Jeonghan used his hand to turn your head towards him, leaning in slowly before speaking up again, "This is how she likes to be kissed. Take notes, Joshuji."

He then began kissing you softly, going peck after peck before deepening the kiss. He began to lick at you until you opened your lips for him, sighing when your tongues made contact. In the meantime his hands went up to softly pinch at your nipples through your thin bra, which had you mewling against Jeonghan's lips. The two of you continued to kiss like this for a few minutes, with the kiss eventually evolving into a lewd mess of spit and tongues that would have anyone turning their gaze away. But not Joshua. Joshua intently watched the two of you kiss, waiting for what he hoped would be his turn.

It seemed Jeonghan had read his mind once again, as he pulled away with one last sweet peck to your puckered lips. The two of you gave each other a soft smile before finally turning to Joshua again.

"Did you get that, Joshuji? Wanna try kissing her now?", there was a rare smile on Jeonghan's face as he said this. A mixture of softness and cockiness.

"Oh, I .. I can? I mean, can I?"

"Of course, dummy. That's what you're here for. Go ahead, kiss my angel. Make sure to kiss her right," he gestured to you, making space for the two of you to connect right in front of him.

The two of you were shy about it at first, giving each other timid smiles before Joshua finally closed the gap and kissed you. He let out a breath of relief against your lips before really getting to it. Unlike Jeonghan, whose movements matched yours perfectly (due to being completely in tune with you by now), Joshua was a bit more desperate in the way he kissed you. He whined against your lips as he licked and sucked at both your tongue and lips. You didn't seem to mind, matching his pace as he loved on your lips.

"You're so ... Fuck, you're so pretty," he whispered against your lips.

His hands eventually went up to softly run his thumbs over your nipples, more slowly than Jeonghan had. He immediately drank in any moans or whimpers you let out at his actions. With half a mind to begin hovering over you, giving you all of him, he hesitantly pulled away. Joshua was certain that if he kissed you more without actually getting to fuck you, he would embarrassingly cum in his pants in front of both you and his best friend.

"Liked it, Joshuji? My bunny's just so pretty, isn't she? Addictive. Can't blame you for having wanted her for this long."

There was still mockery in his voice, but Joshua didn't mind as long as it meant this could keep going.

"What else ... what else can I do?", he dared himself to ask.

"Oh? getting a little brave there, Joshuji. I'm gonna have her first. Then you get to have your fun."

Joshua felt slightly strange at the concept of watching the two of you have sex, but he was also coming to find out that he found it incredibly hot to see the two of you touch each other. The sight of you sucking Jeonghan's dick the night prior had not left his mind for a single moment.

Jeonghan went to sit behind you, making you recline against him as he made a show of taking off your underwear. He dragged down your panties, bringing them up to his face to inhale the scent, throwing Joshua a satisfied smirk as he then threw them out of reach. After that, he removed your bra, playing with your tits as Joshua watched with a thirsty look on his face.

"Come closer, Joshuji. She loves being touched here. Kiss her tits a bit. She goes crazy over it."

"Hannie!", you complained, face flushing at his comment.

"What? He needs to know your weak spots, baby. Want him to make you feel good, bunny."

Joshua ignored your banter as he scoot closer to you, lowering his head to your tits as he kissed and licked at them. Your hands came out pretty quickly to hold his head against your tits, whining at the way he devoured them like a starved man. In the meantime, Hannie decided to take it upon himself to finger you, causing your cries of pleasure to fill up the room. At some point Joshua removed his tank top and began to kiss your lips once more, inciting your hands to begin feeling up his chest.

Behind you, the devil whispered in your ear, "You like him, bunny? Like how big and strong he is for you? Gonna take such good care of you, aren't you Joshuji?"

"Y- yes. Gonna give her everything she wants," it was easy for Joshua to fall into a trance while kissing you, specially the moment your hands went south, now softly playing with his dick under his boxers.

He moaned at your touch, sighing against your lips as the kiss became too filthy in nature. In the meantime, Jeonghan made sure to kiss at the weak spots of your neck, hands still playing with your pussy. Joshua drank in every moan that his friend pulled out of you, giving you back moans of his own as you played with his cock. The kiss broke soon after, with Joshua throwing his head back and closing his eyes at the pleasure.

Eventually he felt some movement on the bed, causing him to open his eyes. Upon opening them, he had noticed the two of you changing positions, somehow without your hand ever disconnecting from his aching dick. You were now on your hands and knees above the bed, with Jeonghan kneeling behind you. Hannie made a show of kissing at your cheeks as he stared down at Joshua. Immediately after, he entered you, groaning at what Joshua knew must've been the greatest feeling allowed on Earth.

"Oh, Joshuji ... You have no idea how good my angel feels ... My pretty angel ... Prettiest thing I've ever had, shit."

Jeonghan's words about you were almost enough to make him cum. That, and the way your hands tightened around him at the feeling of your boyfriend entering you. The moment Hannie began to cant his hips against yours, you threw Joshua a lustful look, questioning if it was okay to take his dick into your mouth.

"Please ... You can do anything ... You don't have to ask, just– fuck!"

You did not need much confirmation, taking him into your mouth the moment he showed any type of affirmation and getting straight to work. Joshua commended Jeonghan in his brain, knowing he must've trained your pretty lips to take him so well that Joshua almost felt like passing out at the way you expertly worked him with your mouth.

You were an absolute dream, and Joshua was unsure of how in hell you were even real and in bed with him right now.

His and Jeonghan's moans filled the room, though for different reasons. Joshua was overcome by the pleasure of your mouth while Jeonghan groaned at the feeling of you wrapped around him. Simultaneously, you whined against Joshua's dick at the way Hannie pushed his hips towards yours. The increase of your moans let Joshua know that you were likely almost at your end. Opening his eyes once more to look at Jeonghan, he noticed that his hand had dipped, likely now playing with your clit as he fucked you. He could tell the two of you were about to cum, and to be frank, so was he. The context of the situation alone had him delirious with pleasure. Something about you sucking his dick while his best friend fucked you was just so hot and intimate to Joshua. His best friend and the girl he'd been lusting after for months ... He'd have to unpack all this at some point, but for now, he let his orgasm take over his thoughts.

The three of you came at very similar times, allowing you all to catch your breaths before continuing onto whatever else Jeonghan had in mind. He seemed to be in charge anyways.

Jeonghan immediately moved as close to you as possible, sitting behind you while you sat opposite of Joshua. His hands played absentmindedly with you once more while his eyes were set on his friend, a smirk glued to his face.

"D'dya like it, Joshuji? Like how my pretty angel felt? She was so good for you, wasn't she? My beautiful bunny ... Just wait til you feel her cunt ... Her gorgeous, perfect cunt", as he complimented you, his eyes grew heavy, leaving Joshua's to instead focus on you. His hands grew frantic as he felt you up while ignoring Joshua's presence.

Jeonghan grew too lustful for you. It seemed like this was a regular occurrence – Jeonghan losing his train of thought due to your close proximity; unable to concentrate when your body drew him in so easily. Joshua understood completely. His eyes were equally as heavy as he stared at his friend make out with you once more. He also wanted the privilege of doing whatever he wanted to you at any given time; a privilege held by Jeonghan only.

Finally, Jeonghan's reasoning came back and he gave you one last peck before turning to Joshua again, "Sorry. Can't help myself around my angel."

"Hannie, we shouldn't ignore Joshie. He's been so good too," your soft voice cut in.

"Yeah? He was good for you, angel? Like how he kissed you? How his cock felt in your mouth. Why don't you thank him? Show him what a good boy he's been for you," it was as if a permanent grin was glued to his face, careless to how shy you seemed to get at his depraved questions.

Regardless, you moved closer to Joshua, sheepishly asking for permission to lean against his lap. He, like any reasonable man, gave you enthusiastic consent, choosing to pull you all the way on his lap and trapping you in a heated kiss. There was no way for him to help himself, he'd just grown far too desperate for you. The constant promise of your cunt had him going crazy by now.

"Oh? Joshuji taking control, huh? C'mon, you can do better than that. Feel her up. Give her everything you have ... Fuck her."

Both you and Joshua froze at that last statement, disconnecting your lips as you turned back to look at him.

"Hannie .. ? Are you sure? I–"

He scoot closer to you, giving you a peck despite you being twisted at an awkward angle and still on Joshua's lap, arms wrapped around him.

"Of course, angel. Want you two to feel good. You're all mine anyways, aren't you?" he gave you a more heated kiss this time, not caring for Joshua's close proximity.

"Yes, Hannie. All yours ..." you breathed against his lips as he pulled away.

Joshua didn't say anything throughout the exchange. His eyes were simply frozen at a widened state and his mind blank. He had assumed that Jeonghan had been playing it up by bringing up the tempting subject that was your cunt to him as he fucked you, likely just teasing something that Joshua would never been able to have. Joshua had been wrong. He was building up for the final act; the moment in which Joshua would get to fuck you while he watched.

Not too much time after and Joshua was lying down on the bed with you on top of him, both of you fully naked. Jeonghan was sitting nearby with the perfect view of your body. He had offhandedly mentioned that he wanted to see you. That he was fine with Joshua being the giver of your pleasure, but that his desire ultimately fell on seeing you in the throes of passion. Joshua was fine with this. Although the concept of being watched enticed him, his main focus was on the immense pleasure he was intending to give you as soon as you gave him the green light. Which you did while he was trapped in his thoughts, completely catching him off guard.

At first he was ashamed at the loud moan he let out at you sinking down on him, but the thought immediately left him upon his brain processing the tightness of your cunt. For a fleeting second he imagined what it would've been like to fuck you raw in the same way that Jeonghan had done just moments prior, but Jeonghan had been adamant on him wearing a condom, claiming that his dick was the only one with the privilege of being suffocated by your cunt unfiltered. The logic made sense, but Joshua's envy wasn't soothed by logic.

Putting these thoughts aside, his mind went straight back to your cunt. Your beautiful moans and the contortions of your face while in pleasure were high contenders in his list of priorities right now. You were a literal angel above him. The bounce of your breasts and the way your hands guided his own to play with them had him whining at you.

"You're so beautiful ... Feel so fucking good, fuck. Hannie was right, you're an angel ..."

He heard a chuckle (which he ignored) coming from his side.

"Thank you, Joshie– fuck! You're so pretty. So good for me, too. It's nice to have such a good boy for a change."

He chuckled at this, knowing you were probably way too used to Jeonghan's antics. His usual gentleman act was likely a breath of fresh air, and he wanted to perform the part perfectly for you.

However, his body made the choice for him. Despite growing extremely aroused at your bouncing atop him, his body ached for more. Which was why he flipped you over and began pistoning into you like a beast. If your cries and the way you scratched at his chest were anything to go by, he was pretty confident you were enjoying it just as much as he was.

"Gonna make you cum, beautiful. Need you to cum, yeah? I'll be a good boy for you, just ... just cum for me and I'll give you everything," his hand came down to rub at your clit, making you squeeze around him with a mewl.

"Joshie! I'm gonna– Fuck! I'm almost there!"

Along with your moans, the slapping of skin could be heard to his side, with angelic moans accompanying the sound. Looking to the side, Joshua caught sight of his best friend's thrown back head as his hands frantically played with his cock, clearly getting off at the sight of you nearly at your orgasm.

Joshua buried his face in the crook of your neck as he tried to hold back his orgasm until yours arrived. That's when Jeonghan finally interjected.

"Bunny ... Need you to cum for Joshuji, yeah? Be my good bunny and give him your cum, angel."

It seemed like Hannie's orgasm had arrived while Joshua was distracted, as his voice only sounded slightly out of breath and he could no longer hear the slapping of his dick.

"Yes, Hannie .. Gonna– ah! C– cumming! Shit!"

Your orgasm immediately triggered his. Joshua had been holding back, waiting until he could finally fill up the condom Jeonghan had made him slip into. The simple thought of cumming inside you had Joshua's orgasm becoming even more intense despite it being a mere thought. Your moans of his name also didn't help matters, making him continue to grind into you even past your highs. The sensitivity was the only thing that got him to stop, falling limp beside you on the bed.

The three of you laid there breathless for a few beats, rendered too exhausted to do anything.

Jeonghan was the most lucid at the moment, with his orgasm not having been as intense as yours or Joshua's. He grabbed a few wipes from the bedside table and cleaned you up a bit, throwing some clean ones at his friend so he could do the same to himself. But Joshua was too spent to process anything at the moment. It took him a good five minutes to fully catch his breath and sit up to face the happy couple he was currently sharing a bed with.

"So," began Jeonghan, smirk still glued to his face as he cuddled against you, "how was it?"

There really was no way for Joshua to answer that question. His eyes were still glued to your form as you cuddled against his friend. On estimate, Joshua would need about three business days to process what had just happened; the way you were so perfect for him. Inside him he just prayed that this would not be the only time he had you. He'd be okay with not being your boyfriend and simply staying friends. All he wanted was to know that this would happen again and again.

"Joshie?", it was you who interrupted the spiraling of his thoughts, concern laced in your tone, "Are you okay? Did I do something tha– "

"No! Of course not," he immediately went to stretch his arm so you could hold hands, "I ... It was perfect. You were perfect. It's just ..."

"You want her again," now was Jeonghan's turn, sounding very confident in his statement, "You want to know if this will ever happen again. Am I right?"

All he could do was sheepishly nod. He wasn't sure why he felt ashamed at it. The only thing he was certain about was that he wanted this again. All of it. Watching you and Jeonghan together and then being watched by your boyfriend himself. Every detail of it had him burning at the mere thought.

"Don't worry, Joshuji. We like you too much to let you go. Right, angel?"

You nodded enthusiastically, pretty grin on your face, "Yes, Joshie. Of course you're invited again," you patted the empty side of the bed for him to join you and Jeonghan in cuddling under the covers.

He was hesitant in accepting it, but he still found himself cuddling up against you, enjoying the warmth of your hold as Jeonghan cuddled up on the other side of you.

This was all slightly unconventional, but he could get used to it. After all, you were his two favorite people.

To read short 2.4k word continuation u can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: dry humping, cum eating, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 434 (teaser); 2402 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

It had only been a few days since that day.

You know, the day in which Jeonghan had allowed Joshua to defile you to his liking. The day Joshua discovered a kink he had apparently kept hidden away. The day you had laid under him so prettily as he rammed into you with everything he had. Yeah, that day.

Joshua was sure he was going insane. Neither you nor Jeonghan had made much mention of the events of that day other than a suggestion of doing it again sometime. That vague proposition just wasn't enough for Joshua. Not when all he could see when he closed his eyes was you (and occasionally the image of Jeonghan fucking you from behind, but the implications of that thought were something Joshua didn't want to explore just yet).

Were you completely unaffected? The two of you were still acting as per usual, being your menacing selves as you remained touchy and attentive to him, but not in a way that could be defined as anything more than platonic (flirty, if you so wished).

Okay, granted, it had only been two days since that night, but had it been up to Joshua, he would've already had you three more times since then. He needed to know where your minds were at, and at this point that meant he'd have to take the reigns, so he decided to design a plan to see if he could land the two of you in bed again as soon as possible.

It was kind of difficult to get you alone. You and Jeonghan were always attached to the hip, which was usually a cute sight to behold, but simply bothersome to Joshua under his current circumstances. It's not like he wanted to take you from Jeonghan. He just knew that talking to you would be easier than to his friend, who Joshua knew would simply try to play mind games with him or somehow make him even more confused.

Finally, after spending almost an entire day exploring Japan with the two of you (holding your hand most of that time), Jeonghan had headed over to shower, leaving you and Joshua alone in the hotel room.

Joshua wasn't sure how to go about this. How could he even bring up the situation without sounding desperate for pussy (which he very much was)? He wanted to have you, but doing it without Jeonghan's presence felt like betrayal. All he needed right now was some sort of sigh that he wasn't insane and that what had happened the other night hadn't been an isolated circumstance.

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

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[goldenhypen]

; ⎯ i like you fr .

synopsis. you hate yang jungwon, so what’s this weird, tingly sensation erupting in your stomach whenever he’s around?

pairing. jungwon x fem!reader ⋅ genres. enemies to lovers, slight angst, fluff ⋅ wc. 1k ⋅ warnings. contains a tiny bit of crying on y/n’s end (she thinks jungwon is leaving)

prompt 1. holding their hands when they are shaking ⋅ requested ⋅ dark blood event

a/n. somehow got a little carried away w this one but who’s complaining ,,, also it’s not specified, but for the sake of this story let’s pretend that y/n and jungwon maybe know each other from school or smth and were like academic rivals,, yas academic rivals mhm mhm :D but i mean if that’s not your style, by all means, use your imagination. that’s what these are all about anyway :’> ,,,,, yall i’m so delulu help :’>

“why are you in such a crappy mood today?” jungwon pestered you with that maddening voice of his.

you had enough!—or at least that’s what was on your mind all these years, until last night when you heard the news that jungwon would be moving away… it seemed people were right when they said you don’t fully understand the value of something until it’s out of your hands.

that’s how you were feeling about jungwon at this moment. but why? it’s not like he was ever yours in the first place. and you two were rivals!

yeah, no, why would you ever miss that icky little brat?!

“shut up!”

“geez, no need to be so aggressive and snappy,” he uttered, annoyed.

you turned away so that your back was facing him before immediately walking away as you felt tears threaten your eyes.

“where are you going?” he just had to continue talking to you.

“nowhere, won,” you answered frustratingly, doing your best to fight your wobbly voice and not let him come aware of your vulnerable state.

you heard as his footsteps followed you from behind in a rushed rhythm.

he grabbed your wrist from behind, stopping you in your tracks and turning you around with a swift yet gentle pull.

with your hand nearly in his, he noticed how your body shook slightly and how watery your eyes were now.

“hey,” his tone—and entire presence at that—calmed and softened, “what’s wrong?”

if you were being honest, you had never seen this side of him, at least not with him this close and personal with you. it felt foreign, yet for some reason, so right.

this was everything you could have ever wished for—but only ever in your imagination, definitely not in real life.

you had spent so much of your life hating jungwon that you didn’t realize how much you actually valued him. you realized, you might actually miss yang jungwon.

“y/n,” his softness snapped you back to reality, “why are you crying?”

“it’s nothing,” you brushed him off, reeling your hand back and out of his grasp and wiping a fallen tear on your cheek.

“seriously, what’s wrong?” he asked, now frowning with you, and for once, not in a mocking manner, but one filled with care and attention.

“i—this is gonna sound stupid,” you laughed ridiculously, shaking your head.

“it’s fine, just say it.”

“no, i—”

“y/n, what is it?”

you paused for a few brief seconds before continuing, “you’re leaving soon right?”

“what do you mean? no, i don’t have anything right now or after this. why?”

“no, i mean, you’re leaving leaving,” you attempted to clarify. “like, leaving the country.”

tears pricked your eyes again, and you turned away for a moment to quickly compose yourself.

“hm?” you heard emit from him, causing you to face him again before realization hit, “ah! wait, you’re sad about that? i thought you’d be the one rejoicing the most at the news.”

he chuckled, but you just stood there looking at him without a change in expression.

“why are you even sad?” he asked. “it’ll only be for a couple of months anyway. ah, or are you sad that you only get a break from me for a couple months?”

at his playful remark, you stared at him confused.

“what do you mean? you’re not moving away?” you questioned.

“moving away? where did you get that information from?”

you shrugged.

“i’m going on tour, y/n!” he told you, excitement in his voice, a sound that somehow fed your heart with happiness.

your mouth opened, forming a shape resembling a small circle in realization.

“ah, i see!” you smiled, feigning joy, “right! tour! that’s great, won. ‘kay, see you around!”

at your terrible attempt at brushing off the embarrassing situation, of course jungwon had to prolong the moment and stop you from leaving again.

“where are you going?” he laughed. “i’m not done talking yet.”

you groaned, stopping in your tracks and turning around with a wide, forced grin.

“why were you sad that i was leaving?” he asked, taking a step closer to you.

“i wasn’t,” you denied, and he moved again, making the gap between your bodies almost non existent. you gulped, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

he brought a hand to your chin, lifting it and forcing your eyes to meet his powerful gaze. but you held up stronger, not daring to let him know how weak he made you feel inside. you could crumble to your knees at the way his unusual yet bold actions had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

his eyes transferred to your lips, causing you to do the same as you watched his next moves and the words leave his mouth.

“do you like me, y/n?”

and all that came to your mind at his words were the next ones that left your lips.

“kiss me and find out.”

you don’t know where the sudden boldness came from, but you weren’t at all complaining as what he did next made it all worthwhile.

all within the next second, he pulled you closer, with his hand moving to your jaw, leaning in, and meeting you in the middle for a kiss you could only imagine in your dreams. but now, this time was real life.

sure, he’d be leaving to tour the world in a few months, but as long as he wasn’t going to be leaving your life permanently, you were willing to work through any challenges you may face in this new relationship of yours. after all, you two managed to break through the whole “enemy barrier” between you both after all these years. you could only imagine what more the future had in store.

a/n. thanks for reading :> ,,, y’all i’m sorry but if i’m being totally real, i’m feeling a little bit unmotivated and my confidence is fading a bit recently,,, when i say reblogs, comments, etc make a huge difference, i mean it :( the ratios of reblogs + replies to likes lately are quite saddening to see. this is not to say i’m at all ungrateful for all the support in general and throughout time, but seeing these ratios for so long is making me lose confidence. there’s just something that leaves me feeling uneasy about the fact that most readers are just consumers and don’t do anything to show appreciation or let us know that our work is good and that we should even keep going. obviously as readers you aren’t obliged to, but validation is really important for us artists as we create and share our work to the world. unfortunately that’s just how it is, and you can see that with all your favourite writers that have left over time. it just takes a quick moment to send some words of appreciation. and i’m not just asking this for me, but for the writers you love. it truly makes that much of a difference and really keeps us going :( thanks everyone <3

event masterlist.

taglist 1 (taglist 2 open). @raimbows4u @beibybtch @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @beans-and-jeanes @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @liikno @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @yeosayang @koishua @4ri-ki @sunoksunny @jaeyunjakesim @tnyhees @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @clarakyunisageek @annoyingbitch83 @4vonly @wonswondrland @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @ktttwwn @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @mnsnts @chacottone @yeseoist @azurez @milisabunny @wonniestars @rikislady @kazmura

[rainbow-crane]

In-Depth Character Analysis On All The DR Characters Because What, Are You Gonna Try And Stop Me? Who Are You, My Mom? Yeah, I Didn't Think So- Part 1: Kiyotaka Ishimaru

Yes, I'm aware the title is ungodly long, it's called comedy. Behold, a series inspired by my overwhelming hubris! Despite my better judgement, I love this series and (almost) every single one of its characters, so I decided to do this little series of posts on the side, just cuz!

So part 1 of like, 88 I think?, going through the characters from THH, DR 0, SDR2, UDG, DR3, and DRV3 with as much objectivity as possible, analyzing their character using only canon material from the games/anime/novel/canon adaptation they're present in. So sit back and enjoy while I go feral! Or just scroll, if you aren't interested. Whatever works for you.

Part 1- Character Design

Kiyotaka Ishimaru is depicted as a very aggressive honors student, and is shown as such through his very expressive facial features and his choice of clothing. He has large eyebrows and big eyes, and is given a uniform meant to make him look more like a soldier, reflecting his rigid dedication to the rules and his ethics. This uniform also includes an armband meant to signify his authority within the class as Hall Monitor and as the unofficial class rep. His sprites are very animated, with big gestures using his arm(s) and his mouth often wide open, whether in a wide smile or while yelling. This makes him one of the more expressive characters in THH specifically, as most of those characters are pretty restrained on a day-to-day basis and only become more exaggerated when put under high levels of stress.

Something interesting about Taka is that his talent changes from the original Japanese to the English translation. His official talent is the SHSL Public Morals Committee Member, meaning his original talent was that of discipline and social order. This was translated to Ultimate Moral Compass in English, as most western schools don't have a Public Morals Committee. This change in translation unintentionally shifted the perception of his talent from discipline to morality. This change in distinction has had a bit of a negative impact on the Western perception of his character, as rather than appearing to impose order on the other students, it instead appears at the beginning as though we, the audience, are supposed to view him as a beacon of morality. We're not.

Part 2- Character Introduction

Taka is one of the first characters to actually speak to Makoto directly, berating him for being late on the first day of school, despite the fact that he and everyone else had experienced a strange warping of memory. He also goes on to interrupt your first conversation with Sayaka, stating that their time is being wasted by 'ridiculous back-and-forth'. Despite this, when it's his turn to introduce himself to Makoto, he goes off on a tangent about how cool Makoto's name is. He's described by Makoto as a 'flawless honors student' and is most publicly known for his work on his local Public Morals Committee. He believes in putting 'every ounce of effort' into living, and imposes this belief on those he interacts with, something Makoto finds irritating(This guy is... kind annoying.").

So in short, Taka's first impression on the player is that he's a mildly obsessive honors kid, and a bit of a hypocrite that isn't fully aware of his own presence or the effect it has on the rest of the cast. The game goes on to use this lack of social awareness as a source of comedy, as he takes Monokuma's initial greeting as Headmaster fully at face value. He struggles to grasp the concept of the killing game at first, opening the discussion upon Monokuma's departure from the welcome ceremony with dialogue that sounds like it was pulled from a customer feedback survey("So guys, how would you define what we just experienced?"). He's not a malicious or hateful figure; he wants to work with the class but isn't quite sure how to.

Part 3- Early-Game Events

The game spends the early-game establishing Taka's more negative traits. He's shown to be inobservant and wrapped up in his own ideals and need to command authority to even notice Kyoko is missing and, upon being informed of her disappearance, cares more about her punctuality than her safety. "Not only is she late, she didn't tell anyone she would be late! A most unbecoming personality trait..."

He's also established as hypocritical once again, and a bit egotistical, as he has trouble fathoming the others' lack of discoveries but overinflates the importance of his own.

He then goes on to agree to Celeste's suggested nighttime rule for all the boys in the class, without letting them speak for themselves. While ultimately, no one has a problem with the rule, this is the first real instance of him doing something that, on paper, is beneficial to the group, but without considering how the others actually feel about it.

Taka doesn't show up in-story again until the day of the motive, when he goes around to the entire class demanding that they will now all have breakfast together every morning after the morning announcement. Although this is a good idea, allowing for everyone to bond and creating a morning headcount, he makes this decision for the entirety of the group. Leon and Makoto both complain about this if you speak to Leon outside the cafeteria, but ultimately go along with it because they don't want Taka to continue bugging them about it. So we can see that his efforts are perceived negatively by his classmates and go unappreciated.

Already we've seen Taka act overbearing and commanding over and over, inadvertently separating himself from the majority of his peers. He's direct and to the point, forming the breakfast meetings expressly to 'become friends and build trust' with the rest of the class. So we can see in no uncertain terms that he wants to befriend his classmates, but that his lack of social skills leads him to fail at every turn. He doesn't ask the class to join him for breakfast, he tells them. The strategy he employs doesn't leave room for choice, and ends up building resentment from his classmates.

It's not until the first body is discovered and the rules of the class trial are revealed that reality fully seems to set in for Taka. He, along with everyone else, are given the rules of a game they don't really want to play- that should they fail in the trial, all of them will be killed. And it sends Taka to a breakthrough- that some regulations can be harmful to those they're imposed upon.

There's now a shift in his actions- he's still trying to push for the class to follow the rules he's set, yes, but there's a newfound urgency to them. When Byakuya disappears in chapter 2, his concern has shifted from punctuality to his classmate's safety. He's the one to lead the search for Byakuya when he doesn't answer. Despite all his harshness, we can see that his strictness now comes from a place of genuine concern for the people around him, a direct parallel to earlier in the game when Kyoko went missing- "I'd like to think so. But I'm worried something might have happened to him."

This growth of character, though not focused on, is undoubtedly present. The dedication he has to his discipline and his ego are still fully intact, but now that dedication has moved beyond just order. It's an act of protection, for him and everyone else. The invisible threat of death has become all too visible with Sayaka's absence from their last breakfast meeting. If he can keep track of everyone, then he'll know they're still alive. He can prevent another murder. It imposes upon him the responsibility of the leadership he craves.

Part 4- Relationship(s)

Unincluding if the player actively seeks him out through FTEs, Taka only ever develops a real relationship with one character of the other fourteen in-game, though he does have some important dynamics with others. We'll continue moving in chronological order.

4.1- Ishimondo (these bitches gay?)

Throughout the game, whenever Taka is saying or doing something stupid, Mondo is typically the one to call him out on it or shut him down. While this doesn't start to take real shape until chapter 2, it is visible here and there in the early game.

But their connection doesn't really start to take focus until chapter 2, as Taka's failings as leader and Mondo's constant correcting him puts them at odds. Mondo's attitude is the antithesis of Taka's, living a life of complete risk and impulsiveness, yet has a matching level of energy, and despite being more intimidating on a surface level, he's able to actually befriend characters like Chihiro, Hina, and Sakura, while Taka's left on the out. One of the best examples of this is found not in the game, but in the stageplay adaptation, where both characters attempt to help Chihiro feel better about her weakness in the daily life segment.

When Byakuya starts mocking Chihiro for her fear, Mondo threatens him, and insists that Chihiro's weakness doesn't matter because she's a woman. But when this makes her upset and Sakuraoi call him out on it, he offers to help Chihiro train as an apology, acknowledging that his behavior was irrational. But when Taka tries to give her advice by telling her not to be weak anymore and is told to be reasonable, he can only insist that Mondo's words don't matter anyway.

In the game itself, Taka's barely present for this exchange, as it chooses instead to focus on Chimondo's relationship. Regardless, the animosity between Mondo and Taka is still made very clear in-game.

Mondo and Taka are both demonstrating the desire to protect their classmates here, but in different ways. Taka is the more logical of the two, focusing on keeping track of resources and devising a system of check for everyone to keep watch over each other in the breakfast promise. Mondo, meanwhile, wants to push the importance of actually getting everyone the fuck out of there. While their endgoal is the same, they disagree on how to go about it, and both their stubbornness drives them to butt heads as time continues to pass, leading to the sauna scene.

After being slowly built up in the background, Ishimondo's mutual anger finally comes to a head, with both not understanding the position that the other is in. Taka still believes Mondo's value to be what he provides to society, and as a biker gang leader, that's not much to a man that lives by lawful discipline. Meanwhile, Mondo can only see Taka as an egomaniac with a stick up his ass and doesn't know the background to why(and neither does the player without actively seeking out his FTEs). They each follow a different code of ethics, and view themself as the protector of the class, leading them to see each other as rivals. Yet, despite that, both of them still share their core value of total dedication, and so when finding a way to prove themself the better man, they end up with an endurance competition. For Taka, this reflects his belief that men connect by baring their souls, and do so by baring their bodies(something only learned in-game by approaching him for FTEs).

(This also leads to the implication that, while Mondo insisted on entering the sauna with all his clothes on, at some point, he was, in fact, naked while with Taka that night.)

The information as to what happened in that sauna is intentionally left unanswered, remaining fully private between both men in-game. The only thing either of them will say is that a brotherhood was formed between them, and that who won their initial contest no longer matters. Finally, Taka has found someone. Someone he can confide in and lean on, someone who'll support him and that he can support in turn("And if you can't do it alone, just find someone to support you, and you can support them back! That's how you can overcome any storm!" -Taka ch 1).

And then Chihiro's case happens.

At first, when the motives are introduced, Taka is one of the few to vocally insist no murder will take place. He has newfound confidence in the willpower of his classmates, and puts faith into everyone else for the first and only time. Even when presented with his own unknown secret, he finds it ridiculous that anyone would kill over the embarrassing memories and secrets. It's here that we truly see the highest high of this character- when he comes up with the idea to share secrets. When he presents this idea, he moves forward as usual, preparing to be the first one to reveal their secret and take the pressure off. But when his classmates insist they can't (Toko & Celeste) he doesn't keep chugging along, and he doesn't completely shut down, either. He looks around at his classmates, and he asks Chihiro. He actually steps back and asks for someone else's opinion.

And when she isn't yet comfortable, he backs off. He respect her wishes, and he stands with the class, ready to help them face their secrets the following day. Finding a friend in Mondo has softened his rigid exterior a little bit, enough to actually consider the opinions of the others. He's gotten comfortable. All that comes crashing down with the discovery of Chihiro's body the next morning. After finally taking a step back and letting his classmates- his friends- make their own choices, it directly leads to the murder of one of them("Dammit! I'm sorry, Chihiro... It's all because I wasn't strong enough!").

Taka fully blames himself for allowing Chihiro to be murdered, and as the guilt of failure starts to set in on him, he looks to his ethics and order to solve it. Chihiro may be dead, but the murderer will be condemned through the class trial("Justice always prevails! Right, bro!?"). A solution, a path forward, still exists for him. He still has Mondo by his side, and he and the rest of the class can surely prevent this from happening again, right?

The trial only validates him at first, revealing the existence of a serial killer among the group, someone so clearly immoral for her killing obsession. But it's not her. Why isn't it her? "Could such a heinous villain really be innocent!?" But his confusion is quickly stamped out- of course, it's Byakuya, the guy that's been threatening everyone and refusing to cooperate, the guy that has no regard for the rest of their classmates. "He kept calling this a game, right? So he'd totally be willing to do whatever it takes to 'win'!" But no, wrong again- he didn't know that the murder was in the boys' locker room, and was taken aback by Chihiro being AMAB. It should be him, someone so clearly antagonistic, that's how it's supposed to go, right?? But no, it's wrong! Why? And, who could kill someone like Chihiro at their most vulnerable?

He's failed. Taka's failed in every way conceivable. Mondo, the first person he's ever truly felt connected to, a murderer? Chihiro's murderer? That can't be it. Even long after Mondo's stopped arguing, Taka continues to push back against Makoto and Kyoko's accusations. It's a coincidence, that's not actually proof, anything to get them to stop, to save his brother, to save himself from the reality he's about to have to face. When sent into the BTB, it's Taka we fight in his despair, not Mondo. Until the very end, Taka won't acknowledge it. He can't. He can't bring himself to vote his Mondo a murderer, a killer. How could the man who gave him the chance no one else would, ever be so cruel? "I- I refuse to believe it... There's no way... no way he would kill someone! Why!? Why why why why why!? WHYYY!? Why did you do it!?"

He learns the truth of Mondo's story alongside the rest of the class, unable to process it all. It makes no sense. They were friends who trusted each other, who helped each other. And what about the man's promise? Doesn't that count for anything!? This doesn't sound right. This isn't Mondo, not his Mondo, not the man from the sauna. How could he have been so wrong about him?! It just can't be, but it is; the truth is but a slap to the face.

He was wrong. He stood by Chihiro's killer and defended him. He let his brother become the monster he saw himself as. He didn't stop it when he could have. He was blinded by his own beliefs, and as he watches Mondo's death, his spirit dies with him, the game cutting out all music as Taka screams, filling a deafening silence. "As Taka's sad screams invaded our skulls, we were each forced to realize once again..."

4.2- Kiyondo Ishida

Taka enters chapter 3 as a hollowed out shell of himself. He's gone near comatose, staring at nothing and saying nothing. He won't eat, won't speak, won't sleep, and although there are a couple weak attempts to get him back in action from Hiro("It's times like this where the committee chairman needs to get things going with a BANG!"), he's mostly left to grieve by himself, as the rest of cast is more concerned with the expanded school than the bossy guy they didn't like that much.

Monokuma even goes out of his way to torture Taka, to punish him for his grief, lying about the existence of a time machine just to fuck with his head and give him false hope, sending him further into despair- "Hmm... You sound disappointed. But actually, I was lying about the whole thing anyway. There's no such thing as time machines!" He's forced to become Monokuma's most successful project from the class, completely and utterly destroyed.

When he learns of Alter Ego, something in his head clicks. He can still talk to Chihiro. He can repent. He can apologize directly to him. So, with Makoto's help, he's brought to the laptop. His guilt finishes totally consuming him as he asks: "Do you... hate Mondo? And since I couldn't stop him... do you hate me?" His own self-hatred stemming from his failure is projected onto Alter Ego in one last attempt to come to terms with what's happened. The response he receives, unfortunately, is the culmination of all the toxic and unhealthy ideas of manhood the other boys carried with them via an attempted simulation of Mondo.

"You're not letting yourself get crushed under the weight of that responsibility, are you!? A man's only worth as much as the load he can carry! You get it, right bro!? Hell, what am I saying? Of course ya do!"

"So you're just gonna stand there, huh? Just wait for things to get better? Just take your time and get all depressed... Take the time to indulge your regrets... You might even start walking again without realizing it. Sure, that kind of mediocre thing might work for some people."

This speech, while attempting to inspire Taka to keep living for Chihiro's and Mondo's sakes, encapsulates the desperate need to be perceived as strong and untouchable that Mondo himself carried, and that Chihiro admired so much. It sinks its way into Taka, convincing him that the way to respond to his guilt is simple- pretend it isn't there! Mondo has clearly returned to him, and he's never letting him go ever again. He fully deludes himself, and he's fused with this idealized version of his bro. He permanently ties himself to Mondo's memory, and goes from the SHSL Public Morals Committee Member to something else entirely- Kiyondo Ishida, the unholy mixture of both men.

This revelation also leads him to an obsession with Alter Ego, viewing it as the vessel in which his bro was returned to him. He views it as another chance to protect his bro from ever being hurt again, as some divine second-chance he's been granted. All desire to be around the rest of his class is gone, replaced with this obsession. He's put at odds with Hifumi, who's also connected with the AI, and separates himself from the group that much more. When Alter Ego disappears, he can't handle it. He panics. He won't let his bro die, not again. And so he dooms himself, refusing to let go of the shadows of the past enough to see his own death looming before him, and he's killed in the early hours of the morning, led by desperation to his demise. And even so, the class can only worry about the semantics of when he died, barely mourning him.

5- Isolation (What's the point of this guy, anyway?)

Rather than learning from the mistakes both Chihiro and Mondo made by subscribing to the societal expectations of what makes a man, Taka ends up doubling down, burning away the optimism and more reasonable logic Taka used to have. Taka's story is that of a doomed fate to become the symbol of manhood and its self-destructing nature, leeching off of his first and only friend's unhealthy behaviors and sending him spiraling. And it's allowed to happen because of his social isolation.

From the very beginning of the game, Taka is singled out as annoying to be around. He's put in a negative light and viewed as unpleasant to spend time with. Every attempt to befriend or connect with a classmate is written off as a nuisance, a hindrance. Taka doesn't know how to make friends. He doesn't know how to do anything besides follow the rules and regulations he's been taught. He sticks to his regimen, because it's comfortable, and doesn't understand why others can't conform in the way that he does. He's very thoroughly isolated mentally and emotionally from his classmates at every turn, to the point where even in the very first trial he's standing with no one but the dead by his side(as Sayaka and "Junko" were positioned on either side of his podium).

All this is done with the deliberate intention to showcase his solitude, and more importantly, the loneliness that comes from it. It's to the point that when he finally does make a friend, he thoroughly idealizes him in his subconscious, coming to view him as some perfect person who'd even support him. It's inherently contradictory from his established beliefs going into the game, that a delinquent could be kind, but he accepts it wholeheartedly. He gets to know Mondo on some deeper level while in that sauna, and it's enough to rapidly develop a massive codependency on him. So when Mondo self-destructs and dies, so too does Taka.

Taka's purpose as a character is to suffer. He wraps himself in his moral beliefs, remaining steadfast in what he views as right and wrong, making judgement calls he's 100% sure of, and when they're challenged/disproven, he's thrown wholly out of whack. He exists to serve a purpose- what would've happened if Makoto didn't accept the truth about Sayaka? What happens when you let your idealism blind you to the truth? What happens when you blind yourself to the reality of the people around you, of the darkness in the people you care about? You self-destruct. He's tossed aside, killed as an accessory to the plot of someone who does nothing but manipulate the truth. He dies, and that's just it. His story is cut short; he doesn't get to heal or grow or come to terms with the truth. Such is the fate of the failed.

6- Afterword

...I didn't even touch his FTEs for this. Holy shit.

I'm gonna be honest, as much as I love Taka, I never expected this post would become as long as it did, or that I'd uncover such a dark fucking reason for why he gets as totally fucked over as he does. Don't get me wrong, I still really wish he'd lived and gotten to grow after this, but maybe his death was more well-written than I used to think. Good god.

[hauntingrabbits]

Happy Batman day! Went back and finished the last batch of the MLP AU I had sketched way back in May.

Part 1, Part 2

More info under the cut!

Enigma/The Riddler (Edward Nygma)

Intelligence and puzzle-solving are deeply valued among sphinxes, and those who fall short of their standards are often ridiculed and cast out. Among some (prejudiced) Sphinxes, other sapient, non-Sphinx species such as ponies are looked down-upon or seen as fundamentally inferior for not putting as much stock in puzzles and the like as sphinxes do.

Enigma, though considered a prodigy for his remarkable intelligence and skill with puzzles even among his fellow Sphinxes, was ostracized when a pony unfamiliar with Sphinx culture (a younger Sundown traveling Equestria for his training), humiliated Enigma by unraveling a puzzle of his that was meant to be judged as his final submission in a prestigious event, permanently staining his reputation and wounding his massive ego.

After years of quiet ridicule from his peers and his own growing obsession over the event, Enigma eventually snapped and fled to Gotham for revenge. His contempt has since spread far beyond that of the original pony he wished to prove his superiority over, and he now makes all of Gotham the target of his obsessive schemes, constantly trying to prove his superiority and feed his ego by putting ponies through his elaborate puzzles and riddle-based traps. He sees Batpony’s skill and determination in foiling him as both an inherent challenge to and a slight against his own abilities, reminding him far too much of that original pony from so long ago. 

Other notes:

-Apparently sphinxes in MLP have pony heads instead of human heads which makes sense I guess but it threw me through such a loop man.

-Whilst traversing the wiki I ended up with the same problem I had with chimeras in the first post where only one ever shows up in the series and there's no other info on them. So I made stuff up again.

- I imagine Sphinxes live a very long time, so the event Enigma was embarrassed at would probably take a long time to roll around again and he'd be forced to stew with his anger and wounded ego for far too long. I'm not sure what the puzzle was exactly or how Sundown dismantled it, but I imagine he did something extremely simple that a Sphinx would never have thought of (a la that software engineering joke), making it feel far more unfair and humiliating than if he'd solved in the intended way.

-His naturally crooked tail settles into the shape of a question mark, and the pattern on his arm is meant to look like a stylized question mark wrapping around his forearm (the "dot" is the white of his paw).

2. Miss Friday (Miss Tuesday)

Enigma’s teenaged assistant, Miss Friday seems to be the only pony the sphinx enjoys (or perhaps simply tolerates) the company of. Beyond her having met Enigma in Tartarus during their simultaneous imprisonments, the exact origins of her relationship to and exceptional status with her boss are a bit of a riddle in of themselves. Regardless, the two seem to have something of a mutual understanding, and Miss Friday’s mental prowess and dubious moral code are more than a match for Enigma’s own.

Other Notes:

-Yes this is a "The horse's name was Friday" joke. I'm sorry it was just too good to pass up.

-Miss Tuesday already sounded like a MLP name, but the horse named Friday thing was just too perfect for somebody who works under a guy who's whole thing is riddles. Also I relistened to the BTAA episode where she's introduced while coloring her and I noticed they reference His Girl Friday several times, so fun coincidence?

-The candy-striped leg patterns are based on her canon costume's striped pants & are meant to mirror the Riddler's wrapped leg pattern. The dark patterns on her face are supposed to be reminiscent of eye bags.

3. Mania (Bat-Mite)

Bat-Pony’s self-proclaimed biggest fan, Mania is a Draconequus embodying the spirit of obsession. Normally he watches the hero from his own dimension, but at times he tries to insert himself into the narrative or help Sundown fight, both to varying degrees of success. Though he genuinely adores Bat-Pony, Mania is usually more of a hindrance than a help, and can even be directly antagonistic at times when his obsession goes too far. 

Other notes:

-Similar issue to Chimeras and Sphinxes, only two Draconequuses (Draconequui?) show up in the series, one being Discord (embodying chaos), the other being a comics-only villain known as Cosmos (embodying malice), but honestly what little we're given worked super well for the character anyway. Discord seems to come from his own unique plane of existence/dimension and Cosmos has similarly strange origins; both have penchants for causing mischief with incredible reality-warping powers; and both embody non-physical concepts. Bat-Mite being a reality warping 5th dimensional creature obsessed with Batman was surprisingly easy to adapt.

-He has the head of a pony, a ferret-like body, two front rat paws, mite antennae, an insectoid wing, a bat wing, a pigeon foot, a chevrotain (mouse deer) foot, and a monkey tail. I tried to have him mostly made up of animals that were very small, seen as mischievous, and/or seen as pests.

4. Poison Ivy (Pamela Isley)

Said to be more plant than pony, Poison Ivy is the self-proclaimed princess of the Green. Though once a regular Earth pony, she began to spiral after receiving her cutie mark and fully coming into her powerful natural attunement to plant life. Fleeing into the nearby forests on the outskirts of Gotham, she wasn’t seen again until many years later when Gotham’s city refurbishment and expansion efforts began to encroach on the forests borders, where she reemerged with strange new powerful magic and retaliated violently.

Though she isn’t recognized politically or physically as an alicorn, plants grow from the flesh of her body in the pattern of a horn and wings characteristic of those born into or bestowed with royalty, and the strange natural magic that accompanies them seems to almost rival that of a true alicorn’s.

Other notes:

-I dont really have anything to add to this one I just thought a false alicorn would be a cool concept.

-the whole alicorn royalty thing is very strange to think about isnt it? I feel like the ruling class having such insane amounts of physical and magical power probably has much more pressing ramifications than ever was, would, or should be addressed in a kids show but they are fun to think about.

-Her actual name is Poison Ivy, yes. It sounded like a pony name. I don't know what that says about her parents.

-The leaf wings are folded down in the graphic but I think they are flighted, or at the very least useful for gliding and expressing emotions.

5. Saltbrine (Oswald Cobblepot)

Short, stout, and flightless, Saltbrine’s moniker of “The Penguin” has its origins in the taunts of his peers from his youth. Though the title has persisted into the current day, it’s often spoken with far more fear and trepidation throughout the alleys and backstreets of Gotham than ridicule. Saltbrine owns two of Gothams most well-known businesses, one being the luxurious, high-class Iceberg Lounge…and the other being the organized crime syndicate the former acts as a front for.

Other notes:

-Again don't have much to add to this one. One of my favorite designs though, I love the giant beak face.

-The bird half is actually based on a puffin, because a penguin felt too on the nose for Oswald and too strange for a hippogriff (I couldn't get the wings or face to look right at all either). I feel like the title being an insult works a little better if he's not literally half-penguin.

-he's the same color my club penguin avatar used to be (RIP)

[crguang]

hiii I have a request for an nsfw fic (or it can also be a headcanon. Whatever suits you best ^^) about black swan with a mommy kink (sorry, I'm a lesbian with mommy issues and I love black swan a lot 😞)

(and also sorry for the bad english of the translator 😭😭)

i chose to go the headcanon route for this one, thank you for requesting this! do not apologize i am just like you. it’s himeko for me but i can totally see why you’d go for black swan for this hdjdjfjgk

i’m getting a little hot just thinking about it, my goodness. black swan is so gentle. she’s often perceived as a warm person with a great listening ear and it’s ridiculously effortless to feel at ease when she sounds so sultry and relaxed. her first time with you, she wants to map out your body, feel you under palms until she can picture the entirety of it when she closes her eyes.

her lips softly trace patterns from your jaw to your collarbone; her touch is reverent and steady, she has an enormous amount of patience at her disposal and you’ll just have to let her have her way with you. she tastes your skin like she’s never been in this position before, like she’s never found herself above such a beautiful specimen, so she takes all the time she can afford to feel every inch of you.

she’s especially fond of the little sounds that escape you, she loves knowing how much she affects you and you just sound so cute with your breathless gasps and soft sighs of pleasure, she can’t help being a bit greedy. you can hear her low chuckles whenever she finds a sensitive spot on your skin and brings her mouth to it, teasing it with a graze of her teeth, and you try to muffle noises that are begging to be heard. she purposely trails up the inside of your thighs while she’s kissing your neck, manicured fingertips brushing the edges of your underwear, just to hear those pretty sounds out your mouth.

i dont think the mommy kink would take her by surprise at all, which is a little funny. if it spills from your lips absentmindedly and you get flustered over it, she’d just chuckle and coo at you a bit: “what was that, sweet girl? go on, let me hear it again.” she’d coax you into repeating yourself by gently rubbing circles into your hip and kissing the underside of your jaw. she feels immense satisfaction as your quiet voice hits her ears and rewards your obedience with a languid kiss on your lips <3

black swan knows the effect she has on people. she uses it to her advantage all the time, but when you call her mommy she feels so valued, a little shiver runs down her spine. she wants to hear it again and again and again, until your vocal chords are hoarse and you can only brokenly call out for more of her touch between your legs.

talks you through your orgasms. she finds that you’re more responsive when she encourages you with a low “just like that, darling…” or “you’re doing so good, taking it so deep…” her eyes never leave your face as you teeter on the edge, she drinks in your every quiver and shudder with a hungry gaze. if her mouth is free, she likes to muffle your pleas with a kiss and feel your breath as you stammer “m-mommy…” into her mouth.

praise comes so easy to her and she has a whole roster of pet names ready to be used; sweet girl, sweetheart, darling, my dear, lovely, pretty… they fly past her lips without her needing to think about it. her praise is usually what pushes you over the edge and she’s very smug about the fact that she can make you come with her voice. who wouldn’t when she sounds this sexy as she commands you to “come for mommy, sweetheart.” ? my throat is so dry right now.

black swan gets so, so wet out of pleasuring you, be good and return the favour, won’t you? it doesn’t matter how, though she does have a particular affinity for your mouth. grinding her cunt onto your tongue is a surefire way to make her come hard, and her moans are the hottest sounds. she loses herself in breathy praises and needy moans, fingers in your hair keeping you between her parted thighs, and she thinks you look like such cute puppy as you lick her enthusiastically, desperate to please her. she’ll repeat broken sentences of “so good— you’re making mommy feel so good—” over and over until she’s creaming in your mouth <3

aftercare is a very soft affair. she lets you catch your breath while she gently kneads your thighs or runs her hands down your back, making sure you know how good you did for her and how much you’ve affected her with sweet murmurs into your cheek. she runs a bath/shower for you and smiles wide if you ask her to join you. she washes your back and takes the moment to record your glistening skin into her memory. she changed the sheets and makes sure you’re comfortable and warm before taking you into her arms, your head on her chest, and humming you to sleep while tracing your shoulder blades. swan is very, very warm in general and it’s really nice to be cared for by her.

[bluetimeombre]

━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ Daisy, oh my Daisy

Daisy and Wonka first met all those years ago on the boat. He was a chef and she, a waitress. The two had come quick friends, working together and laughing together. When Willy Wonka shared his chocolate dreams with her, she wanted to be part of it all. So as Wonka goes for his dreams, Daisy, his Daisy comes along as his faithful secretary. When it all goes wrong, he fears he's dragged her down with him.

[never did I think i'd be writing a Willy Wonka fic, like huh? but before I even went into the cinema to watch it I knew i'd be obsessed. Can't wait to see the Regulus edits of it all. Not proofread, just vibes. And i have a lot of ideas for timmy and coryo snow bits :)] ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━

The doors were wide open, holding the people in and the magic of it out. The wonder of Wonka's chocolate shop wafted in the wind, calling in all- children and adults, anyone and everyone came along to have bite of magic.

Daisy maned the doors with Noodle. Kept the line down and made sure everyone got in and out with a bag full of the wonderful chocolate Wonka created. She was lucky enough to be the first to try them all, he always wanted her feed back. She was thankful he held her in such esteem as to value her opinion. After seven years on this journey with him, just seeing his dreams in front of her was enough to keep a grin in her face.

Her cheeks would sure hurt in the morning.

It was obvious to them all apparently, at least to the adults, how Daisy admired and felt about Wonka. But- standing across from her and watching her watch Wonka- it only just clicked with Noodle.

'Holy cricket!' yelped Noodle.

Her yell broke Daisy away from her daze, watching Wonka in his chocolate tree. She jumped in her skin and slowly turned to Noodle. 'Yes, Noodle?'

'You're in love with him!'

Daisy's jaw hung open slightly before she laughed off her nerves. If Noodle said it any louder, he may just hear. 'What? No-no, no way, no, please. Don't be ridiculous. He's... he's my boss.'

'So?' she rushed over to Daisy tugging at her sleeve. 'You're in love with him!'

Daisy turned them around quickly, smiling at all the customers until they were left alone in a corner. 'Noodle, please, you mustn't say a word. To him, to anyone.'

'You've been in love with him this whole time?'

'Well, only six of the seven years i've known him,' Daisy amended, 'although admittedly that doesn't sound any better.'

Noodle had a grin on her face now, her little hat slanted down on her head. 'Why not tell him?'

'Because Noodle, there are some things worth staying quiet for. If he didn't like me back and thought it weird that I stayed this whole time, he could throw me out! All i've known is this.' Daisy didn't want to think of not having it. Of not having... Wonka.

'Daisy, please, i'm sure Wonka loves you to,.'

'Daisy!' called the very man they were discussing. The two girls stood up quickly, hands behind their backs and smiling.

'Nothing, we were talking about nothing!' said Daisy quickly.

Wonka's brows seemed askew as he looked between them. 'Very well, Daisy may I borrow you a moment.' he didn't await an answer, already tugging her away.

Worried he'd heard this whole time and was about to tell her to leave, Daisy looked back at Noodle for some help. The girl only made smooching faces.

'Try this!' Wonka thrust a chocolate flower in her mouth.

It was delicious. Crunchy and melting on the tongue. It smelt like a tulip but tasted like a blueberry and something else, something like...

Daisy spat out the last crumbs of the flower. 'Yeti sweat!'

'Exactly!'

'But you didn't put that in there!'

'No, I did not.'

Daisy thought quickly, clicking her fingers. 'Could it have been the little orange man?'

Wonka nodded, stroking the non-existent hair on his chin. 'I wouldn't put it past him.' Quickly, Wonka tugged her over to the tree and leapt upon it, yelling out to the room: 'Ladies and Gentlemen! Your attention please, there seems to be a manufacturing error! Nobody eat the flowers!'

A lady who's hair was already turning orange and growing a beard asked 'why not?'

A man who's hair was ginger and growing tall had crumbs falling from his lips 'what's wrong with them?'

Another man was turning green, another child was turning another colour.

'Oh no,' mumbled Daisy.

'I'm terribly sorry everyone and I don't know how to explain it. But it appears the chocolate's have been poisoned!' Wonka announced.

Daisy leapt up next to him. 'That probably was not the best wording, Wonka.'

'I want my money back!' a man who's hair was as blue as the ocean yelled.

'I want compensation!' yelled an angry Scottish man.

'I want revenge!'

Suddenly, chocolate's were being thrown at the two. They dodged and ducked, but they came quickly.

'Daisy, hold onto me!' Wonka grabbed a fistful of her purple dress and kept her close to him. They yelled at those who tore down the shop, that cracked and shattered all the glasses. 'Daisy, what's happening?!'

The chandelier dropped from the ceiling, creating fire in the middle of the hall. People started to run out, screaming and yelling. 'Oh Daisy.' and Wonka settled down.

That's how they ended up in the melted room of what was once Wonka's shop of dreams. The colours had dissolved, the people had scattered and they were left with their friends.

Noodle slowly approached Wonka who sat down in the dust. With an encouraging nod from Daisy, Noodle cleared her throat. 'It's ok, Willy. We can re-build.'

'There's no point, Noodle.'

Daisy rested a hand on his shoulder. 'Don't say that.'

'It's the truth,' he mumbled. 'It didn't work.'

Daisy scoffed. 'What do you mean? your chocolates brought so much joy!' she settled down next to him. 'Before everyone found out they were tampered with.'

'She promised she would be here,' said Wonka, glancing over at Daisy. She was the only one who knew everything about Wonka. All but one thing. Quite possibly one of the biggest things. 'She wasn't. Stupid dream.'

Daisy rested a hand on his back. 'It's not a stupid dream, none of your dreams are stupid.'

'Oh but they are,' he told her, looking to her with tears in his eyes. He seemed to search her face for something. 'Now none of them will ever come true.'

'Don't say that Willy!' said Noodle. 'Please don't ever say that!'

'Come on, Noodle,' Mr. Carter said, putting a hand to Noodle's shoulder and gesturing the rest away. 'I think we should give Mr Wonka some time alone.'

Wonka didn't object to them all leaving, he sat with his feelings and his chocolates.

Daisy watched them all leave and turned back to Willy. They spent their days together, inventing, laughing, eating and cooking. They only left each others side to sleep in different rooms. But maybe, she'd have to accept some things change.

With a quiet sigh, Daisy made to leave.

Wonka's hand reached out, clasping her wrist. 'Not you. Please, please don't leave.'

At his begging, at the tear slipping down his cheek, she sat back down and held onto his hand firmly.

'Never, Willy, never,' she promised.

He sniffed. 'I'm sorry, I let you down,' he laughed through his tears.

At first, she thought he was talking to his Ma. Sometimes, when he needed guidance the most, he'd share some words with her. But she realised, he was apologising to her.

'Let me down?' she echoed. It was a ridiculous idea, when he'd given her the greatest thing of all. Love. A warmth in the heart that not even chocolate could bring. 'You haven't let me down, in fact, it would be impossible for you to ever let me down, Willy. You did all this. All of it. And if it wasn't for the stupid chocolate cartel, you'd have all your dreams. I just wish I could erase what they did, give it all back to you.'

He smiled, wiping his nose. 'You've always been too kind to me, Daisy.'

'You've never given me a reason not to be, Willy.' she squeezed his hand with one and with the other, she wiped away a tear from his cheek.

He looked at her and she quickly dropped her hand and took a deep breath. The ends of her dress were scorched, her gloves ruined, hair falling around her face. 'You've followed me all these years for this. For this dream. Now it's all gone. It's ruined and i've done nothing but waste your time.'

Daisy looked into his eyes, those that were swimming in tears. She shook her head slightly, lips curled up in disbelief. She thought of talking with Noodle, she thought of dancing and sharing smiles with Willy. 'You really think that's the only reason i've followed you?'

They were sitting close. Bodies, warm from fire and cold from dread. His jacket, frayed everywhere, covering parts of her dress. He could see every detail of her face. Every detail he'd missed from spending his time being far from her.

'What else could there be?' he asked.

And perhaps truth's would've been shared if it wasn't for the chocolate cartel interrupting.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

It all seemed to end with: death by chocolate.

Daisy and Wonka were stuck in a room with thousands and thousands of gallons of chocolate, and impossible amount really. The pillars whirled and the chocolate grew around them. They'd been so close at winning, at getting their hands on the secrets they needed to prove the cartel villains and gain back his reputation. But of course, there was one thing they'd missed.

Chocolate.

'You know, Willy. When you were dreaming about chocolate. I think you dreamt a bit too hard.'

Wonka held her hand, putting it onto his sleeve. 'Just hold onto me, we'll be fine.'

But then chocolate started to spill from vents, and being 'just fine' started to turn into panicking. Panicking a lot.

His other hand held onto her hand. 'I'll think of something, I promise.'

Daisy laughed, watching her knees disappear under the chocolate. 'I've never doubted you, not for a second in six years. But please do come up with a plan soon.'

'I've got it!' he announced after the chocolate crept up their legs. 'If we're going to drown in chocolate, because let's face it Daisy, we might just drown in chocolate. Then it'll be Wonka chocolate.' She watched as he started to sprinkle some secret ingredient into the chocolate around them.

'Does that happen to lessen the amount of chocolate that will some in?' she asked.

'Nop!' he admitted.

Daisy put on a brave smile, looking around the room as the chocolate reached her waist. 'A sky light!' she gasped, shuffling around in the liquid. She laughed, clutching at Wonka. 'There's a skylight, we'll get out that way.'

Willy followed her eyeline, seeing the only part light came from. 'Daisy, my Daisy, you're a genius.'

And it didn't take long for the chocolate to reach their necks. They pushed through it, they fought against the current until they reached the window.

'Help!' they yelled, banging their fists against it, screaming and hoping someone would see or the glass would break.

'It's not gonna work is it?' Daisy sighed. Her fists were shaking from the force of knocking against the window. 'We're going to drown in chocolate.' She laughed, because how could she not.

Wonka watched her. Even in the desolate moment of ending, he watched her. His flower laugh and then thought things couldn't be so bad if she was laughing. But hadn't she always found joy in the worst moments? 'Tell me,' he said.

Daisy looked back to him, arms working tiresomely to keep her up. 'Tell you what?'

'What you were going to tell me, back in the shop?'

Daisy almost thanked the blush was up to her neck, he'd never be able to see the rising blush. 'I er... I don't think I remember what I was going to say.'

'Sure you do,' said Wonka, almost taking pleasure in teasing her. 'You're Daisy, you remember everything.'

Still, even facing death by chocolate, Daisy wasn't ready to spill her most carefully guarded secret.

'Why else would you follow me all the way here, Daisy?' he asked her. 'You might as well tell me. I'm not sure there's another way out of here. I've let you down. Again.'

'Willy, i've told you. You can never let me down,' she whispered. There was nothing else left to say. Nothing but silence between them.

'I'm in love with you,' she confessed in one breath. A secret kept for years, aching for days and it came out in one single whisper. 'I've been in love with you for six years. That's why I've followed you everywhere. Because I believe you. I wanted to see your dreams come true. I wanted to watch you watch your dreams come true. That's why i've followed you here. Because I am so helplessly and foolishly in love with you.'

To her dismay, nothing was revealed from his expression. 'You really mean that?' he asked. 'You're not just saying that because we're about to drown?'

'No. Seemed as good a time as ever to say it.'

Finally, he smiled. 'Then let me do you one better. I've been in love with you for seven,' he admitted. Finally admitted. And if it wasn't for the chocolate holding them down, his chest would finally expand with a deep breath. He laughed. 'Seven years.'

'Seven?' she checked.

'Seven,' he exaggerated. 'I should've told you, I never wanted you to be my secretary! I never wanted you as a friend! I wanted- I wanted you!'

Daisy laughed, tilting her head back so she couldn't choke on chocolate. 'Well, we're just a pair of fools aren't we?'

Willy smiled. 'Daisy, oh my Daisy. Deep breath now.'

Then, the two disappeared under the river of chocolate. But for a fleeting moment, they were in love together.

Daisy thought that could save them. Her own dream of loving him could make the chocolate go, lower until they could breath. She could practically feel the fresh air, feel the air in her lungs.

'Daisy! My Daisy open your eyes!' Yelled Wonka. 'We're saved, we've been saved!'

Daisy wiped the chocolate from her eyes, finding Willy in front of her with a wide grin. 'What? by who?'

'Look!'

Above them, waving at the window was the little orange man. The theif.

Daisy exclaimed a laugh, thanking him and blowing him a kiss as the chocolate continued to lower until they got their bodies back. The two spun around and around until they hit the ground in lumps of bodies.

Their bodies were shaking with laughter, against each other.

They sat up across from each other in new light. Not afraid of dying, or loving.

Daisy raised a brow. 'So seven years is a long time.'

Wonka blushed under the layer of chocolate he tried to wipe away. 'Almost as long as six.'

They laughed, eyes twinkling in the way new lovers do.

Daisy reached out, swiping a layer of chocolate from his cheek and licking it off her finger as Wonka watched. She didn't seem to think anything of it, but it lit him up with heat and determination.

He pulled her arm until she was between his legs, almost on his lap and kissed her. A kiss that had waited seven years, since they were born, a lifetime for them to share.

It was quick, a movement of lips and his hand on her cheek, her hand clutching his jacket. It tasted of life and hope and love and chocolate. His lips were soft and sweet, and hers were fresh and his for the taking.

Perhaps, if it wasn't for the little orange man knocking on the window, they would've forgotten their troubles and rolled around in chocolate, discovering what seven years of longing does to a person.

Daisy pulled away, running her tongue over her newly chocolate covered lips.

Wonka smiled, kissed her once more and then held her hand. 'Let's go get our chocolate back.'

[icycoldninja]

Fluffcember #12 (Reno x Reader)

Fluff headcannons

-Defining Reno in two words: Chaos. Gremlin. He's cute, but crazy. If you are an introvert, dig yourself a hole and jump in it now. Reno is that extroverted friend we all have that drags us out to do unnecessary shit even in the middle of the night.

-This man legit shows up at your front doorstep at 3:00 A.M. with a bottle of wine and a Walmart bag full of those Great Value "Frosted creme sandwich cookies" that are obviously knock-off Oreos, declaring "Babe, we're gonna re-invent the cookie industry! Let's make Winey-O's!" "Reno, for God's sake, it's 3 in the morning!"

-Comes up with ridiculous projects to do with you, each one getting weirder and weirder as the days go by. It started with something simple and innocent such as making homemade slime out of butter or the fluffy bits inside diapers, and soon evolved into really weird shit such as using glow-in-the-dark paint to redecorate your toilet. Life with Reno is crazy.

-Regardless of whether you guys live together or not, Reno wakes you up at 5:00 A.M. every day, no matter how late you guys stayed up last night trying to put glitter on the sides of your TV. He'll either jump on you and bounce up and down like a kid on Christmas or call you and sing scream a really off-key rendition of "I Will Always Love you" once it goes to voicemail. The sound of it is terrifying--never ceases to jolt you out of bed.

-Loves to run up and tackle you to the ground before pinning you there and peppering your face with kisses akin to the way a dog licks it's owner's face.

-He misses you so, so, so, so much when he has to go away for Turk work, but when he finally comes home, he will literally run into your arms screaming "IT'S MY BAAAAAAAAAAAABIEEEEEEE" And then proceed to sob about how much he missed you until your clothes are wet with his tears.

-This dude can't cook. At all. If you leave him alone with food in the kitchen for 5 minutes, when you come back, the stove will be on fire, your frying pan will be lodged in the ceiling, several knives will be stuck to the fridge, salt, sugar, and spices will be everywhere, and Reno'll just be chilling in the corner, whistling while trying to chop a carrot with a mangled spoon.

-When he's not burning down your kitchen, he'll be lounging in the living room trying to find a Netflix series to watch. Eventually you wander in and the two of you sit down to a nice movie. His favorite genres are comedy and romance (partially because then he can "re-enact" the scenes), but he'll watch just about anything as long as you like it.

-Loves to get all snuggled up during your movie nights, especially by lying in your lap and having you play with his hair. He likes it so much because it acts like white noise and gives him something to focus on so he can fall asleep.

-Always falls asleep in your lap, and looks so cute, too. Gone is the mischievous smirk; the troublemaking gleam in his eyes, replaced by a precious, serene look of utter peace that is reflected by his smushed up cheeks.

Just like this. Adorable.

[theprettynosferatu]

Unit Commander John Heinlein was a simple man. Above all, he valued order. Order kept the world safe, functional, understandable. Everyone and everything had its proper place and proper role: like different organs in a body, they all contributed to the overall health of society as long as they did what they were supposed to do and didn’t get any stupid ideas. In that gigantic body, John Heinlen was a fist, and stupid ideas were what he punched into oblivion. Reality was simple, and if it wasn’t, the higher-ups pointed him to the complication and he pummeled it back into simplicity.

As usual, intelligence was spotty. Why exactly this club was a Stupid Idea, John did not know nor did he care. What the informant had revealed was something about women going against their conditioning, although they had not revealed how or why. It seemed patently ridiculous to John Heinlein. Conditioned women were happy, and they made their men happy. Simple, proper. Everything in its natural place. If Fulgrim’s was messing with that, it deserved to be squashed.

Looking at the rest of the Unit, he felt sending them was perhaps a waste of resources. If the informant was correct, they would be facing women and whatever deviants might be attending off-hours, if any; but it was not his call to make, and he liked it that way. His purpose was to punch, not to decide who deserved to be punched.

The six men stood in front of the gaudy purple door. As much as he wanted to kick the door down and be done with it, John played it by the book. He made the signal to place the breaching device and got into the correct position, ingrained in him by hundreds of hours of training. Still, no matter how many times the device blasted the door open, John always felt underwhelmed. Part of him seemed to expect a big thunderous sound, instead of the measured, barely audible “pop” designed not to alert the criminals.

Like a perfect machine, they went in, weapons ready. They were all running on autopilot, relying on their modified genetics and exhaustive drilling. It took only a few seconds for them to reach the same, obvious conclusion. No threats present. Instead, two women stood by the door, as if expecting them. John felt a deep revulsion, something primal stirring within him. It was wrong.

The women weren’t blonde. They weren’t smiling. They didn’t seem pleasant, or demure, or bubbly. In fact, they looked like wolves on the prowl. One had blood-red hair, a leather corset, fishnet stockings and boots that ended in the sort of spiked heels that could kill a man. The other was, to John Heinlein, even worse. She seemed shy, wearing a short skirt and trying to cover up… but her eyes spoke of a deep hunger, a devious intelligence and a depraved longing he couldn’t quite place.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!” said the redhead with mock gratitude. “You see, I’ve been trying to train this sweet little creature right here…” she added as her hand went under the other girl’s skirt. “But I’m afraid she needs a bit of… male guidance. A strong hand to show her the way”

John frowned. There was something strange in the air. A subtle smell he couldn’t fully detect. As he turned to ask his comrades about it, he noticed Johnson shifting his weight slightly. It was a small thing, but utterly out of place for a man of their training. And he could tell the women saw it too. Slowly, seductively the redhead walked toward Johnson, leading the other girl by her wrist. It was surreal, unsettling. But they couldn’t just open fire on females.

“Johnson, step away from the females, now!”, barked Commander Heinlein.

For the first time in his illustrious career, the Commander’s order went unheeded. He watched in horror as the petite woman placed a slender hand on the soldier’s chest and, with a look designed to melt hearts and break down barriers at the same time, pouted like a mischievous child.

“Please, Sir. I’ve been bad. So, so bad… Won’t you teach me? I’m a very good learner… if I’m put in my place”

Meanwhile, the woman in the spiked heels had gone around Johnson, and whispered in his ear as her hand caressed his perfectly sculpted abs and kept moving downwards…

“She can be so good… we both can be so good… but are you man enough to show us you can handle us? Tame us? Mold us into your perfect good girls?”

Johnson was breathing heavily, paralyzed by a million conflicting impulses. He had a job to do. He was a soldier. He was…

And just then, he broke. Johnson grabbed the smaller woman by the neck, and in a swift movement turned her around and bent her over. He couldn’t see the devilish smile on her face, but John Henlein sure did. There was victory in that lustful look, a triumph only magnified when, cock hard as metal, Johnson railed her from behind as hard as he possibly could, his mind gone in a frenzy of half-formed sentences and grunts, the redhead woman rubbing her pussy as she now shouted encouragement.

“Do it! Pound that little slut! Show her what she really is! Fucking break her like the stupid fuckdoll she dresses as! Punish that pussy with your cock! Make her scream for me… make her beg! Make. Her. Yours!”

“Johnson!”, shouted Heinlein in vain. The soldier was gone, and all that remained was a beast, a bundle of muscles determined to conquer the females before it, to claim them and mark them as his. And worse, whoever was behind it all remained unseen, deeper inside the club.

“Fuck! Everyone else! On me! We press on!”

“What about Johnson?”, asked a rookie soldier by the name of Phillips.

“We lost him! Now, move!”

They stormed the place, kicking down doors- no time to play it straight, as much as it pained Unit Commander John Heinlein, for whom standard procedure was akin to a biblical dogma. With every hallway they crossed, every room they breached, the air seemed to get heavier, denser somehow. Sweeter, perhaps.

They entered a room covered in black velvet. It caused a strange effect, almost as if the walls themselves devoured the light. And there, sitting in the middle of the room, long legs crossed, was another female. Like the ones before, she didn’t look like the blonde, obedient women that had undergone the mandatory conditioning. Horror gripped Heinlein. This person went against every conceivable notion of what a woman should be. Clad in a leather corset and thigh-high boots, she stared the five soldiers down with a look of disgust and clear disapproval. Even the sight of their guns was to her just another gauche shortcoming, one in a very long list of inadequacies clamored without words by her deep, green eyes.

“Did I say you could come in?”, she asked.

The question was ridiculous. They were Soldiers. They didn’t ask, they acted. And yet, two of Heinlein’s men started moving their heads, something between shaking off a creeping mental fog and answering the woman’s question. No, she had not said they could come in.

“Get on the ground, and-” started barking Heinlein before the woman cut him off.

“No. it’s not your turn to speak. You don’t talk unless I tell you to, is that clear?”

Unit Commander Heinlein froze. Her tone, firm, in total control, was something he recognized very well. For a moment he was a raw recruit again, undergoing basic training. A part of him, a part of all Soldiers knew to obey that sort of utterance, that confident command. It was part of the crucial training that made any warrior more than a brawler. It was the core of discipline. He knew, at that moment, they were all in grave danger.

“Now, that sort of rude entrance needs to be punished. You all know it, don’t you my toys? But I’ll be kind…ish. How about you start by being a pack of good dogs and kneel?”

Heinlein felt his legs almost give in. He managed to stay on his feet… barely. He watched as most of his squad went on their knees, their eyes wide, fixed on that beautiful woman, seeking every ounce of validation she could give them. Ready to obey.

“Crawl to me, pets”

They did. With a few words, she had made them love her. Adore her. Obey her. Their sense of duty twisted, molded, corrupted. And Heinlein felt himself wanting to join them, wanting so badly to be one of her favorite pets… no, her very favorite. The alpha of the pack. Perfect for her. Obedient for her. 

It took a superhuman effort to turn away from her perfect silhouette, her beckoning curves, her voice of absolute command and dominion. The last thing he saw before sprinting away from that goddess of a woman was his once proud squad almost fighting like dogs for the privilege of kissing her heels. How he hated the fact that he wanted to join them…

He tried to push it all away as he ran through hallways, deeper into the club, down stairs, through room after room. Deeper and deeper… the air getting heavier and sweeter… his mind getting fuzzier…

How long did he run? How deep did he go? He couldn’t tell. Different themes passed him by like a blur, and he felt almost as if he was just running in place, the facility moving around him, assaulting him with perverted ideas, digesting him like some monstrous organism designed to destroy everything that was right and natural in the world… but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t. Stopping, he felt, would mean the end.

And then, he stopped.

The woman looked like no one he had ever seen. Every part of her seemed designed to short-circuit his understanding of reality, his very core, and he found himself frozen before her, his brain trying to catch up to what his eyes were seeing. She looked like something out of some strange, fae world: she wore her hair in dancing ponytails, one dyed blue, one pink. Her makeup was a striking mixture of neon colors punctuated by tiny drawn hearts scattered over a face that spoke at once of innocence and mischief. She had a single fishnet glove on, mismatched thigh-high socks, a pink and black nighty that hovered between dark and slutty and the most pure chastity… Even her eyes, he noticed, refused to follow any notion of order: one was a deep blue, while the other was an inhuman, alluring red. She was something he couldn’t comprehend, and yet couldn’t stop watching. She moved with a strange liquid freedom, as if gravity and anatomy were vague suggestions she very much didn’t intend to follow. And her smile… he couldn’t quite place what it was: it was joyful, yes, but also shy and yet it had a hint of a predator somewhere deep inside it…

“Oh, hi!” she chirped and bounced out of her purple sofa. “I was fingering myself!” she declared, almost with pride.

Unit Commander Heinlein found himself unable to respond. This… being was not a woman. Not as he understood them, at least. And yet he could feel something stirring inside, something he had forgotten about long, long ago…

“Who are you?”, she asked, her face becoming almost a caricature of confusion before snapping back into a jubilant smile. “I’m Alara! Nice to meet you!”

She ran to him. Normally such an action would call for tactical evasion, or a well-practiced takedown. Instead, Heinlein found himself frozen in place as the girl hugged him. She smelled sweet, like the air around them.

“Are you okay, dude?”, she asked with a look of genuine concern. 

“I… this establishment has been deemed… unsuitable and against the… proper conditioning of females… get on the ground, and…”

“Ooooh, the ground? I can go to the ground for you, Daddy! Or do you prefer Sir? Or Joe? You know what? Joe it is! Is your name Joe? You look like a Joe to me. So, the ground! Ass up? Or maybe on my back, legs open? Which one do you want, Joe?”

Heinlein, whose first name was most certainly not Joe, watched as the girl seemed to flow from one pose to another: one second she was on all fours, looking over her shoulder with an inviting smile; the next she was on her back, legs open, her eyes shocked like a virgin about to feel a man inside her for the very first time… then she bounced back to her feet and pouted.

“Come on, Joe, make up your mind! Or do you want me to take charge? Wait! I should have it… here!”. The girl beamed, brandishing a gigantic, double-sided dildo. “Want me to use this on you, Joe? Come on, give me a little something to work with here!”

“Please stay still. Do you understand the situation? You have been… altered. You’re not a normal…”

“Normal? Normal?! Joe, how boring are you? Seriously, how many times can you fuck a blonde big-titty bimbo before it gets so fucking samey? Fuck ‘normal’, Joe! Let your freaky self out to play for once!”

“I do not have a freaky self”

Alara tripped on her own legs and landed sprawled on the carpeted ground before shooting Heinlein a look that might as well have been directed at a two-headed alien, before turning into an expression of pure, profound pity.

“Oh, Joe… of course you do! We all have our freaky sides… don’t think for a second they’ve drilled yours completely dead. It’s there… I can feel it. And so can you, can’t you? Growing inside you. Getting stronger. Don’t you get tired of following orders? Of everything being always in the same place? Of loving the same woman? The world isn’t like that, Joe! People aren’t like that! We are insane, contradictory, fucking twisted messes… and that’s perfect! Come on, Joe… don’t you ever think about doing… the wrong thing?”

Her words dripped inside his head like honey, so much so that he didn’t notice her approaching him, rubbing him through his pants as she playfully made him so confused, so mixed up, so fuzzy and…

“Mmmm… tell me Joe… what’s that thing you’d like to do, that wrong, wrong thing you dream of in the dark, swearing to yourself you’ll never say a word of it?”

“Non-regulation shoes” 

His mouth had spoken before his brain had even registered it.

“Oh, don’t like the uniform shoes?”, she teased.

“Uncomfortable”, he mumbled.

“So… why don’t you take them off?”

“On mission. Tactical shoes. Reinforced. Useful”

“Are you going to tactically kick me, Joe? Of course not! No one would kick pretty little me… well, unless I asked… but not with those shoes! Who’s gonna know, Joe? No one’s gonna spank you for letting your feet out for a bit! So… take them off!”

“Can’t. On a mission”

“Oh, for fuck’s- come here, you big dummy”

Alara lunged for his shoes, and made a big show of pulling with all her might. Heinlein watched her, entranced.

“A little help here, Joe? These fucking things are tighter than your ass! I mean, I’m just guessing there”

He moved as if in a dream. He released the lock on one boot, then the other. Alara flew back, boot in hand, before jumping up, holding the black boot in the air like a trophy.

“Victory! Look, Joe! You have one boot off and the world hasn’t ended!”

It was true. He looked down at his feet. He had gone against standard procedure. In fact, he had flat-out broken a strict, simple rule. No one was screaming at him. Nothing bad had happened. If anything, he was overcome by childish elation. Suddenly, his world had shifted. Rules were words. Only that. No more solid than millions of other words spoken every single day. 

“Sooooo? How do you feel, you rebel?”

“It’s… good”

Alara smiled and bent over.

“I’m guessing there’s a rule against using a suspect as a living fleshlight, isn’t there? A rule against pounding pussy when on a mission? A rule against using little me as your own personal, depraved fuckdoll?”

“There are many such rules”

“And how do you feel about them now?”

“I don’t give a fuck”

Her screams of ecstasy echoes through the entire club. She pushed him further, and he only growled and, for once, did exactly as he pleased. Alara could only cum, and cum again in victory. Every act was a testament to her triumph. He used her throat, not caring if she gagged, if she choked. He slapped her face and she laughed. He spit on her mouth, grabbed her neck, took her tight asshole. He came once deep inside her, but it wasn’t enough. Alara knew the aphrodisiac in the air gave some… special endurance as well, and she intended to see exactly how long they could go. 

By the end her clothes had been ripped off her, her tits were covered in cum, her pussy pumped full three times, her ass abused, her buttocks red with spankings, her makeup ruined. And by the end, he had become anything but a Soldier.

The following day a meeting was called at the highest levels of the government. An elite unit had gone into Fulgrim’s, never to return. 

They would have to take drastic measures if they hoped to contain the corruption now growing in their city.

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

[bloodyhell-lucifer]

Change | Toto Wolff

Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!reader

Summary: You and Toto are in a fresh relationship valuing your privacy. What will happen if Toto suddenly decides that he wants your relationship go to the public level?

Warnings: age gap… and my bad English;)

Notes: OMG I haven’t posted anything here for a longe time… I was scared that I forgot how to write buuut let me just tell you that Torger Wolff has my heart… so I decided to write something for my Toto’s girls

It’s pure fiction, Susie has my heart too

You were dating Toto for a few months now. Your relationship was still somehow new for you after these few months and Toto suggested some time ago that it would be better to keep it private for obvious reasons. You were still getting to know each other and didn’t want media to disturb your private life. You thought it would be okey since you were going to university and Toto didn’t want you to be overwhelmed with paparazzi and fans. Toto valued the most your physical comfort and your space. He wanted you to take your time in this. That’s what you thought till now. You were having a lunch break, siting with your friend Liz and Toto sent you a message.

From: Toto❤️

Hi princess, how’s your day?

To: Toto❤️

Hiii, I think okey, but a lot of work to do and exams as always, just a little bit stressed, might need a big hug from you

From: Toto❤️

I think I have a solution for that. What about I pick you up and we can have a nice ride to my place to order some food and watch a film? I finished early today:)

You froze. Your heartbeat got faster and your eyes got wider. Did he really just sent this message to you or were you dreaming?

“Are you okey?” Liz asked seeing your shocked posture.

“I think I’m not now.” you showed Liz your messages with Toto since she was the only one from your group of friends that knew about you and the Austrian man.

“What I’m suppose to do right now?” you whispered to her.

“I think accept the offer because you are one lucky girl to have him and he’s lucky to have you” she said looking at you like you were an alien.

“But I don’t know, does he really want to make us go public? We were talking about it a few months ago to just wait and look how the situation will go but maybe he’s changed his mind… but still it’ll change everything.”

“Don’t be stupid. It means that he’s ready to show the world that you’re his. It’s nothing wrong with this.” she grabbed your arm and looked you in the eyes. “But if you’re not ready it’s also okey. Take your time.”

“I think I’m ready but does he know what he’s doing? It will change literally everything. The world will know, media, fans. I see newspapers headlines ‘The team principal of Mercedes AMG Petronas Formula 1 Team dating a uni girl’. It sounds ridiculous” you covered your face with your hands and took a deep breath.

“I already told you. Don’t panic. Sooner or later it would happen. It means that he’s taking you and your relationship serious. He wants to make a big move. Media and fans are just the bonus that you have to face. That’s all.”

“I guess you’re right. I’ll text him.”

To: Toto❤️

It would be awesome, but are you sure you want to take the next step?

From: Toto❤️

If I didn’t be sure I wouldn’t ask you this question shatz. I love you and I want the world to know that you’re mine;)

To: Toto❤️

You’re right. I just panicked. I love you 2

From: Toto❤️

I’ll be waiting for you at 3 pm at the parking lot;)

The rest of the lectures were almost finished and you couldn’t focus on anything than Toto waiting for you outside the building. How would it change your relationship? Will it be tough to keep up with everything? How fans will react to Toto dating a young girl going to uni?

In the hallway you could hear random voices. “Did you see that Mercedes standing in our parking lot? I don't know who it belongs to but someone’s daddy’s rich.”

“Are you with me Y/N?” Liz asked when you were heading to the exit of your uni.

“Yeah, sorry. My stress is getting everything from me. What were you saying?

“I said don’t think about it too much. You torment yourself. It will be alright.” she squeezed your hand and gave you a small smile.

You were outside. The sun shined brightly on your face, so you had to adjust your eyesight and put a hand over your forehead to look around. There he is. Leaning on passenger door of his black Mercedes AMG smiling from ear to ear. He was wearing a white, plane button up, which was weirdly for you to see because you got used to see him in his sponsors Mercedes shirt for quite a while. It was a good change to see but not gonna lie he would look sexy in anything. Black dress pants were a must for him as always. People already were coming to him asking for a photos. You squeezed through mini queue that was already forming and some girl pushed through you making you almost fall.

“Look how you walk bitch. Someone wants to take a photo with this delicious man.” The blond girl said pushing through the crowd smiling devilishly, phone in her hand waving it.

You sighed and made your way to him hearing people talk and scream. You got pushed again by the same girl and nobody was ahead of you. You though that you gonna make a contact with the ground but someone’s strong arms caught your frame and stood you straight.

“Hi schatz” deep Austrian accent caught your attention.

„Hello love” you said finally looking at him. His smile was so big that his little wrinkles around his bright eyes were visible. He had his hands on your waist keeping you close and away from falling.

People started getting louder and cheering you up, having their phones in the air recording the whole thing, screaming “KISS, KISS, KISS”.

“Maybe we should give them a show?” Toto leaned closer to you, whispering in your ear.

“If that’s what you want” you laughed, going on your tippy toes, placing your hand around his neck. Toto’s face got closer to yours and his lips made contact with yours enveloping them in a deep kiss. His big hands cupped your cheeks as your lips were working magic together as you were made for each other. You fast enough were out of breath and needed some air. You step aside from him smiling widely, hiding your face in his shirt. He placed his face on top of your head, hiding himself in your hair, laughing.

Toto took couple photos with fans, answering their question about your relationship. In 10 minutes there was a lot of a crowd then and you needed to go.

“Thank you all but now I’m gonna go spend time with my girl.” Austrian man said waving goodbye to them. As you wanted to go and open door to the passenger seat, you heard a familiar girl’s voice.

“But Toto I haven’t got my picture yet.” She screamed waving her hands in the air. You turned around and it was your turn to respond.

“Maybe if I allow you, you’ll have it next time.” you said as Toto came your way and opened door to the car for you, you smiling to him as a ‘thank you’.

Toto came around the car and sat next to you, driving away through the ton of people. As soon as you left the parking lot you knew that he would make a remark.

“I didn’t know you were such a badass” he said with his Austrian accent, making you laugh.

“Oh please, maybe you don’t know me at all” you said smiling to yourself looking down at your hands.

“You know I love it.” He placed his one hand on your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze which made you shiver.

The rest of the drive went in comfort silence between you two. In 20 minutes you were at his place. Toto’s house always made you in awe. You were here so many times but you couldn’t get used to it. Toto went around the car to open door for you and offered his hand to you, which you accepted.

“Take my keys and please make yourself at home as always” he said giving your cheek a kiss. “I’ll park at the garage and we can order anything that you want.”

“Okey, I’ll think of something” you went to the door opening them and making your way inside.

You took off your snickers and made your way to the living room to the big sofa that stood across the small coffee table. You laid down sighing looking at the ceiling. You grabbed the tv remote and played “Pirates of the caribbean”. You heard front door open and Toto coming to you in mere seconds taking his seat next to you. You laid your head on his thighs as his hand made his way to your arm caressing it gently.

“I see you picked a film already” the tall man laughed as he knew what would you choose.

“You know it’s my all time favourite movie Torger, don’t act surprised” you smacked his leg in a playful manner.

“Okey, okey.” He raised his hands in the act of surrender. “What do we eat?”

“It won’t be something spectacular but maybe KFC?”

“I’ll order it right now.” He stood from the sofa and made a quick phone call.

After an hour you were laying down cuddled with each other on the sofa after eating your meal. You had your head on his chest listening to his steady heart beat as his hands laid on your back, making patterns, which made you calm and relaxed.

“You know as soon as you suggested that you would be picking me up I was so scared. I didn’t know we will make it official today” you confessed.

“I thought about it for quite some time if I’m being honest. The thought that I can’t take you with me to the races or simply hug you in public and hold your hand... it made me frustrated. I hope you’re okay with what has happened today. I don’t want to rush you or anything like that my love.” He hugged you tighter like he was scared that you would run away any second.

“No, not at all. After all I’m glad that I agreed. I think it would do us good and it’s an amazing change.” You leaned closer to his face and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

“As long as you’re happy I’m happy schatzi. Let’s see where time will bring us next, but for now enjoy the nice evening that we have.”

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova's Notes - North and South - Chapter 3

Last time we saw our heroine Margaret, she had just received word that Henry Lennox had come to call on her. Let's see how it goes!

So, she is excited to see Henry, as she has just been thinking about him and his promise. Margaret is a little surprised though, since he's supposed to be off with Edith and his brother on their honeymoon.

*record scratch* Hold up, he was accompanying them on their honeymoon??? I know right! And not just him, but his uncle as well? What kind of monster is he?

Well, five seconds ago, I would've agreed with you, but I was able to find this article that points to this being a fairly common practice in order to ease the woman into the marriage (not exactly an academic source, but the first one I found). So, he's not intruding or third-wheeling, but instead helping grow the marriage. What a nice guy, right? Well...avid readers of this will know I'm not Henry's biggest fan, and in the first few sentences he -- again -- says something that raises my hackles a bit.

“'Oh!' said he, more lightly, 'our young couple were playing such foolish pranks, running all sorts of risks, climbing this mountain, sailing on that lake, that I really thought they needed a Mentor to take care of them. And indeed they did: they were quite beyond my uncle’s management, and kept the old gentleman in a panic for sixteen hours out of the twenty-four. Indeed, when I once saw how unfit they were to be trusted alone, I thought it my duty not to leave them till I had seen them safely embarked at Plymouth.'”

Oh no, our couple has done the horrible problem of -- *checks notes* -- having fun on their honeymoon...? If their version of a "prank" is ditching their relatives to get some alone time -- uh, yeah, I would too!!! I mean, I guess I can see where he's coming from on some of these points if they truly are taking dangerous risks, but it honestly sounds like they're trying to sneak in some alone time here and doing fun couple activities together. It's not good that the uncle is panicking, but his brother is in the army. Surely he's prepared for things like mountain climbing and saying they're "unfit to be alone" is quite ridiculous. If he's worried about them doing...other kinds of activities while alone...I hate to tell him, but they're already married so that ship has sailed (literally). If he's truly worried about "danger," how is he -- a lawyer -- more prepared to face it than his brother who's in the army? (Not that lawyers can't face danger, considering Jonathan from Dracula is a lawyer and he just climbed a castle wall not too long ago, but that's a different book/genre lol). Also presenting himself as a "Mentor" (capital M) is HILARIOUS to me considering a) he's younger than at least one of them and b) mentor to what? Being married??? Henry???? He probably means climbing or sailing, but my version is funnier -- just saying.

I guess he might also be kidding about some of this, which is something I should have considered but didn't because I don't pick up well on social cues (I'm like Margaret in that way: we'll get there :D). So if he is kidding, sorry about that, but if I'm to take what he's saying at face value here, he just sounds like a nuisance to the couple. He says he's now "relieved of many responsibilities" but it just sounds like he put those responsibilities on himself.

He then gives her a note from Edith and she doesn't want to read it in front of him because she "half wish[ed] to read it alone and unwatched". I find this interesting that she has to make up an excuse to get away from him here, just to do so! Is it because Margaret doesn't feel comfortable reading letters in front of people in general, or because Henry specifically causes the discomfort? Gaskell doesn't elaborate, but I'll keep an eye out for if she feels comfortable enough to read a letter in front of anyone else in a future chapter, because either could be valid.

Henry begins to look around the room in "his scrutinizing way" and notices how "poor" the place looks, even when the light is hitting it, which should make it looks its best. Then he says this (with a sigh):

"'The living is evidently as small as she said. It seems strange, for the Beresfords belong to a good family.'”

Oh, no! You've just activated a red flag!!! This whole reply is a red flag, but I want to highlight the main problem area (in my opinion) -- the "as she said". What's the problem with this?

To me, this indicates he didn't listen to her when she told him how small her living was the first time around. He assumed she was downplaying it and would come back to find something more like Harley Street. I suppose that was the fashion back then -- to act of more humble means than you were -- but here's the thing: Margaret isn't like that. She says thing as they are and if he knew her as well as he thinks, he would've taken her words at face value. I know that just from three chapters of reading about her!! If he doesn't believe this one thing she says now, how is that going to work later if they foster a relationship (again, we're getting there)? I also just don't like that Henry is pulling a surprised Pikachu face here!!! And while I know good family = wealthy in this time period, still not a great thing to say. Like, hmm her family is poor that's weird :/. He's acting like he didn't get what he wanted for Christmas or something. Definitely not the reaction I would want from a potential partner.

Margaret, meanwhile, is dealing with a problemTM. Namely, her mother. Apparently she gets into moods where everything is an Issue and Henry is considered an Issue -- so, she refuses to see him. This is a dilemma, because Margaret had told Henry that her mamma would LOVE to meet him and will meet with him shortly. I may not know much about etiquette, but I know this is a snub if she refuses to meet with him now. Plus, her dad can't help because he was already in a bad mood (seems like something we'll unravel later) and Mrs. Hale made it worse by commenting *once again* on moving, which caused him to ask her to please stop speaking against the place. So yeah, this isn't going well!

Margaret "listen[s] patiently", but she has to figure things out somehow, so she pulls a problem-solving move. She proposes that after a quick meetup with Henry and her mom (as for it not to look weird), she and Henry can go out sketching, which will mean less interaction for her mother to worry about. Then, even though they only have cold meat for lunch, they can still make that work for the meal, since light food was usually expected at the midday meal (from what I could find -- correct me if I'm wrong) and Henry will expect it that way. That's when Mr. Hale will join them, having had enough time between 10:30 and 2:00 to compose himself.

I love seeing this side of her! We've already seen glimpses, but I think it's the first time we've truly seen her go into what I would call a "problem-solving mode". I would definitely add that to her list of qualities!

"He evidently expected to be asked to spend the day, and accepted the invitation with a glad readiness that made Mrs. Hale wish she could add something to the cold beef. He was pleased with everything; delighted with Margaret’s idea of going out sketching together; would not have Mr. Hale disturbed for the world, with the prospect of so soon meeting him at dinner."

I wonder if it's apparent to everyone involved Henry wants to be asked to stay the whole day, or if it's just Mrs. Hale? It makes sense that he wants to since he said he would be checking up on what Margaret does all day. I don't know much about calling hours or social etiquette in the Victorian era, but from what I could find, he's making a "morning call". Usually a man in this situation should leave after 20 minutes. However, he's family, so I believe this allots for staying a few hours, including dinner (again, correct me if I'm wrong -- I tried to find sources for this, but there wasn't much available for a morning call from family). Does it seem interesting how eager it is how "pleased" he is by everything just after he thought about how poor the family is? Yep! But we don't have time to unpack all of that just yet.

"'Now, please, just stop here for a minute or two,' said Margaret. 'These are the cottages that haunted me so during the rainy fortnight, reproaching me for not having sketched them.' 'Before they tumbled down and were no more seen. Truly, if they are to be sketched—and they are very picturesque—we had better not put it off till next year. But where shall we sit?' 'Oh! You might have come straight from chambers in the Temple, instead of having been two months in the Highlands! Look at this beautiful trunk of a tree, which the woodcutters have left just in the right place for the light. I will put my plaid over it, and it will be a regular forest throne.' 'With your feet in that puddle for a regal footstool! Stay, I will move, and then you can come nearer this way. Who lives in these cottages?'”

I feel like this conversation parallels their awkward interaction from chapter one, though now the shoe is on the other foot. And by "shoe", I mean the whole "shutting down the conversation" thing. To be fair, this is probably Henry joking and being lighthearted, but again -- I'm having trouble reading it that way. She's trying to sketch two cottages that she thinks are pretty, but he's kind of mocking them for how decrepit they look. Fair, I guess, but the fact that she chooses to mock him by saying he's "come staight from chambers in the Temple" (which I believe is a reference to the Temple in Jerusalem and to me, signals she's mocking his loftiness) says she's not entirely happy with this either. Plus, yeah, he just spent time in the Highlands, shouldn't he be used to forest by now? And when she wants to make a "throne" out of a tree stump, he comments on the puddle on the ground. Chivalrous to ask her to get out of the way, but he's not playing along with her game of pretend like he seemed to want her to in chapter 1. I wonder what's up with that? Or maybe I'm reading this all wrong and they're both enjoying this banter -- I don't know, it's really hard for me to tell!! Keep in mind, I'm biased and don't really like Henry, so everything he says annoys me. It's a problem I'll try to work on 😂😂

She goes to talk to one of the men at the cottages, and Henry quickly takes his opportunity to add her to his sketch. Afterwards, she notices and comments on it. He replies:

“'It was irresistible. You can’t know how strong a temptation it was. I hardly dare tell you how much I shall like this sketch.' He was not quite sure whether she heard this latter sentence before she went to the brook to wash her palette. She came back rather flushed, but looking perfectly innocent and unconscious. He was glad of it, for the speech had slipped from him unawares—a rare thing in the case of a man who premeditated his actions so much as Henry Lennox."

I will admit, this is rather cute: him taking the opportunity to sketch her and then saying something without thought! It's a sweet moment and I think I would like the two of them together if they had more moments like this.

When they return back, both Mr. and Mrs. Hale are in much better spirits. Margaret sees her father and while she stresses that he's put aside his worries (they're not taken care of), she can't hide her pride at seeing him because he's always able to impress other people! What a sweetheart, love her for that.

Mr. Hale sees their sketches and when Mr. Hale sees the one Henry drew, Henry comments this:

“'I should say that a likeness you very much wish to take you would always succeed in,' said Mr. Lennox. 'I have great faith in the power of will. I think myself I have succeeded pretty well in yours.'”

I may not read social cues well, but this one I do get: I like you and want to draw you well. However, I know that because I've picked up on it after seeing Henry's inner thoughts. I'm not so surprised she doesn't get it because, as we'll see later in the chapter, she doesn't see him that way. So this compliment -- while nice -- wouldn't mean to her what he's trying to communicate. Why is this important for me to emphasize? Well, listen to what this guy says next:

“"A regular London girl would understand the implied meaning of that speech,' thought Mr. Lennox. 'She would be up to looking through every speech that a young man made her for the arrière-pensée of a compliment. But I don’t believe Margaret,'"

Lol, lmao even. HENRY, buddy, we've been over this -- you should know her better than this by now. I'm not trying to pull a "she's not like other girls" thing, but you started it. She doesn't have the same communication style as the "regular London girl[s]" you're thinking of! If you want to communicate something, you're going to have to be more blunt.

Also, if we continue with my thread of Margaret being neurodivergent-coded (and Henry being neurotypical-coded), this comment is something a lot of NTs often get frustrated by: that NDs don't pick up on the nuances of their interactions. This comment right here really cements this dynamic for me.

To me, it’s understandable she wouldn't pick up on this being flirting because it's subtle to begin with and ND people often have trouble picking up on social cues like this. I do find it interesting how he also expects her to be picking apart his speeches for compliments. Also "arrière-pensée" means "a concealed thought" or "ulterior motive", by the way!

Quick note: the quote is cut off deliberately like that for a reason, he doesn't finish his thought.

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on your view), he decides to try a different tactic. She has been gathering roses to "adorn her morning gown for dinner" and he takes this opportunity to help her with some she can't reach (relatable!) and puts a couple in his button-hole. While this isn't exactly a declaration of love, I do think this is another sweet moment. This could almost be a better show of affection than words for some.

Dinner is a very nice affair, with everyone talking very agreeably, enough so to make Henry forget his feeling of "disappointment" of Margaret's living being so small. Like she had told him. Ugh.

However, there comes a bit of a hitch when dessert comes around. Mr. Hale becomes fixated on the idea of dessert -- which must be pears from the garden. However, they already have dessert served behind him: biscuits with marmalade. Mrs. Hale worries that this pear idea will make their life seem "impromptu" and dessert "unusual" (which will not shine a good light on their living situation, I imagine).

Henry actually steps up with a solution this time: they should eat pears in the garden in order to give them the full experience. Though Mrs. Hale doesn't quite like this idea (she wants to end dinner the ceremonious way), Mr. Hale doesn't give her time to argue: he simply gets up. This shows me that Mr. Hale is probably still not in the best of moods, and likely put out with her as well for what she said in the morning. Either that, or he's so absorbed by his own worries that he isn't thinking of hers. Eep, not good.

So Mr. Hale, Henry and Margaret go out into the garden to enjoy some pears. While Mr. Hale grabs the ripest pear (to get over his anxieties -- relatable), Henry makes eyes at Margaret 👁️👁️. He then takes her to stroll while Mr. Hale sits on the garden bench. Oh no! What can this mean? Well, for Margaret, she just thinks this is a friendly chat. Hmm....

He immediately starts by idealizing her country life and scorning his "city life" (comparing himself to a Cockney), ending with insinuating he would want to live here as his "reward" for all of his hard lawyer work.

She replies by shutting down the fantasy (lol), that the beauty he sees isn't always there and besides, didn't he mock her village before and call it out of a tale? Once she makes it clear she saw it as disrespectful, he "warmly" states he'll never do it again.

I do like that she's comfortable enough with him to feel able to tell him she felt disrespected by his words: that's a good sign, at least. And while he doesn't exactly apologize, he does back down once he realizes this was genuinely negative to her. Gotta take our wins where we can!

""I could almost wish, Margaret——' he stopped and hesitated. It was so unusual for the fluent lawyer to hesitate that Margaret looked up at him, in a little state of questioning wonder; but in an instant—from what about him she could not tell—she wished herself back with her mother—her father—anywhere away from him, for she was sure he was going to say something to which she should not know what to reply. In another moment the strong pride that was in her came to conquer her sudden agitation, which she hoped he had not perceived. Of course she could answer, and answer the right thing; and it was poor and despicable of her to shrink from hearing any speech, as if she had not power to put an end to it with her high maidenly dignity."

I love this passage for so many reasons. For one thing, it has that relatable feeling one gets when you have that one guy friend who hits you with the "I have to tell you something..." and even when you don't know what they're going to say, you also know what's happening...

But I love that she has that scared moment and then she's like -- wait a minute? This is me -- Margaret Hale -- we're talking about and I will say what I want and it will be right because I make it so. I will not shrink from any speech coming my way and if I have to, will put an end to it with my high 👏 maidenly 👏 dignity 👏 . What an ABSOLUTE QUEEN FOR THAT!!!!! I aspire to be like her; why wasn't I told what an absolute girl boss of a role model this fictional character was? And I don't just mean like before I read this (I was given some notice), I mean like why isn't she given more love in pop culture just for this passage alone? (I could speculate why, but I don't want to get sad about that lol). If I didn't already love her, this right here would've made me love her. This passage is definitely something I will be remembering when I feel anxious about difficult conversations! Just, WOW, chef's kiss.

Forgive me, it's going to be a lot of passages from here on out, but I really want to analyze the exact wording here.

"'Margaret,' said he, taking her by surprise, and getting sudden possession of her hand, so that she was forced to stand still and listen, despising herself for the fluttering at her heart all the time; 'Margaret, I wish you did not like Helstone so much—did not seem so perfectly calm and happy here. I have been hoping for these three months past to find you regretting London—and London friends, a little—enough to make you listen more kindly' (for she was quietly, but firmly, striving to extricate her hand from his grasp) 'to one who has not much to offer, it is true—nothing but prospects in the future—but who does love you, Margaret, almost in spite of himself. Margaret, have I startled you too much? Speak!' For he saw her lips quivering almost as if she were going to cry."

Okaaaaaay, that escalated VERY quickly -- Margaret didn't even get time to put a stop to it!!! I can't blame her, he's not giving her the chance to speak. So, the fact that he grabs her hand so she's "forced to stand still and listen"? Yikes. Her heart is "fluttering" and she hates herself for it? Also yikes because I doubt it's fluttering from liking him. I could be wrong, but I'm like 99.9% sure her heart is like that out of nerves.

Not to mention his speech: Henry starts off by being upset she likes Helstone and seems happy there -- you know, the place where her parents are??? Her hometown???? The place he just yapped on and on about being the best place ever and seemed like a reward to him? What happened to that? Swift 180 turn to me. Oh, and let's not forget he doesn't like seeing her calm and happy -- uhhhh...ok?

Now I know what he's trying to say here: he doesn't like seeing her happy here in Helstone because he wants her to be so miserable that she'll want to come back to London (and be with him). If she's miserable, it'll show she cares for him. Here's the problems I have with that logic:

Who's to say she doesn't miss her friends and she's just hiding it? Some people are better at hiding their grief than others.

Margaret is a very "live in the present" type of person; it's not that she doesn't miss Harley Street, but tends to just kind of live in the moment. Him not realizing that -- or wanting her to be miserable despite knowing that -- shows that he probably doesn't know her or care for her as much as he says he does a couple of sentences later.

She hasn't lived with her parents for years and spent most of her childhood without them being a large part of her life (I'm assuming from the limited text we have). Why doesn't she have the right to be calm and happy while living with them? It's pretty understandable she would be more happy with them because if anything *they're* the ones she was probably "more miserable" without. I'm sure she was fine at Harley Street, but she really seems to love her parents and her first night at Harley Street as a child seemed difficult: I'm not surprised she's happy at Helstone! This guy has some audacity to be like "aren't you miserable without me though 🥺" when like -- SHE'S VISITING HER PARENTS???!!?!?! It's been three months, calm down dude.

Let's imagine a world where Henry's completely right (a world I'm glad we don't live in, personally) and she's totally miserable because -- oh, Henry's not at Helstone 🥺💔. Even so, when you visit your friends/crush/whatever that you've missed and you haven't seen for a while, do you act miserable and talk constantly about how much you miss them? I mean, I don't! I usually try to keep up appearances if I am sad, but I actually almost always brighten up around the person I'm with because they make my day better. I get excited and in my element; to the outside person, you'd never know I'd be totally upset when they left because that's how happy I am! Of course, I'd say I miss them or whatever, but I wouldn't make a scene like he seems to want her to.

Going off of that, if you truly cared for someone, wouldn't you want them to be happy? Like he tells her he loves her but starts off his whole speech before he gets to that point with "I wish you were less happy and more miserable because that means you'd miss me and give me a chance" and that's...I don't even know what to say to that. I didn't think you could get worse than Mr. Collins or Mr. Darcy's failed proposals, but I think that beats it. In Mr. Collins's case, at least he starts off with compliments (though they're backhanded and he doesn't really mean them, lol) and at least with Mr. Darcy, he starts off with "I love you" and lists the reasons before he starts insulting her family!!! I guess it's a "pick your poison" thing, but seriously, what a way to start off a love confession speech/proposal.

Then -- and this is what really gets me here -- he notices her trying to get him to release her arm: another sign she's not enjoying this. Now, she's doing this in a quiet but firm way, not wanting to make a scene -- but not backing down, either. Instead of doing the decent person thing and letting her hand go, he keeps his grip and tells her to listen more "kindly". He takes this as yet another sign she didn't "miss him enough" and WOW. Um...I don't have much to say to this; I think it speaks for itself. I will say, everytime I read it I'm filled with an immeasurable amount of rage, if that tells you anything.

He also ends his very touching and heartfelt speech (/s) with saying that he loves her "almost in spite of himself". Aaaaand we're back to Mr. Darcy with his whole "yeah your family is below me and an insult to the human race and I actually wish I could stop thinking about you but in spite of all of that I love you whoops". I think he means this in more of a "I'm not a feelings person, so for me to be in love with you is a big deal" (we'll get to that speech of his soon), but it still comes across wrong to me. If you're going to say that, please clarify what you mean!!!

And THEN -- as if that's not bad enough -- he sees her lips quivering as if she's going to cry and after asking if she's startled (not the emotion I'd be asking after, but ok), he commands her to speak. As someone who gets overwhelmed easily, I would actually hate someone doing that to me!

And if we continue the thread of Margaret being ND, what if she's not able to speak because she's too overstimulated from whatever the heck that just was? I know she just hyped herself up -- and that's amazing, don't get me wrong -- but it could very well be difficult for her to communicate using spoken language and the fact that he wants her to speak right now is a bit reminiscent of how NTs will often force NDs to "act neurotypical" in difficult situations (e.g. "make eye contact, speak on this" etc.) and it's heartbreaking to read using this lens.

Even if we don't read it in that vein, who sees someone about to cry and goes "Speak!"? Get a grip, man.

"She made a strong effort to be calm; she would not speak till she had succeeded in mastering her voice, and then she said: 'I was startled. I did not know that you cared for me in that way. I have always thought of you as a friend; and, please, I would rather go on thinking of you so. I don’t like to be spoken to as you have been doing. I cannot answer you as you want me to do, and yet I should feel so sorry if I vexed you.'”

I feel for her here: I’m glad she takes a moment to be calm, but I imagine it must cost a lot of emotional effort to do so. If I were in her shoes, I don’t even know if I could manage it!

Also, her speech itself is a masteclass in kind — but firm — rejection, in my opinion. Notice how she answers his last question first: that yes, she was startled. That is easiest to answer, so she focuses on it. Then, she expounds on it by letting him know she wasn’t aware of his deep feelings, which caused her to be startled.

That’s when the boundary-setting starts! She sets two of them: in order to “keep thinking of him as a friend”, he will need to discontinue his advances and then she states she doesn’t like the way he has been speaking to her — aka, all of the ways he just offended her in that last paragraph? Stop it immediately.

She ends it by affirming that she cannot give him the answers he desires, but does not want to “vex” him. Just to be sure I was reading her meaning correctly, I looked up the meaning of vexed:

“to bring trouble, distress, or agitation to”

So, she’s worried about troubling him. Yes, distress is in there too, but I think it’s interesting she uses that word to describe how he will take her not returning his feelings. Historically, women do have to worry about how men will react to them not returning feelings -- sometimes to an extreme degree -- and it can feel as if it’s more of a case of them being troubled/agitated rather than distressed. I can’t speak for everyone of course, but it sucks that women have to feel so responsible for men’s happiness to the point of saying “sorry for the trouble” if the feelings aren’t returned! (And yes, I know this issue can happen regardless of gender, but I’m focusing on this dynamic since that’s how it appears here.)

So, how does Henry react? Does he reassure her that he isn’t entitled to her feelings? Asks for space to deal with his own emotions, perhaps? Nope!

“‘Margaret,’ said he, looking into her eyes, which met his with their open, straight look, expressive of the utmost good faith and reluctance to give pain, ‘Do you’—he was going to say—‘love any one else?’ But it seemed as if this question would be an insult to the pure serenity of those eyes. ‘Forgive me! I have been too abrupt. I am punished. Only let me hope. Give me the poor comfort of telling me you have never seen any one whom you could——‘ Again a pause. He could not end his sentence. Margaret reproached herself acutely as the cause of his distress.’”

It’s interesting to me that Henry decides not to ask if she loves anyone else because he doesn’t want to insult “pure serenity” of her eyes. Some may call this nice, I call this asking for a punch in the face. It rides a bit too close to the “purity culture” line for me and I don’t like it. It seems as if Henry thinks she has too much good faith to ever be “unfaithful” to him by even entertaining the thought of someone else. Perhaps I’m wrong, but this is how it reads to me.

Then he asks for forgiveness and says he’s been too abrupt (ok, good start) but says he’s punished. Punished how? Punished for what? If you mean she’s punishing you for speaking to her a certain way by not returning feelings — just NO. That’s not what’s happening here!!!! She doesn’t return your feelings because she doesn’t like you, just accept it.

That’s when Henry really drops the hammer of “can you give me hope and return my feelings one day 🥺” which — oh, boy. On one hand, I can feel for him here, but it’s strange to me that he also wants her to promise that she’s never seen anyone that has caught her fancy. It’s a very “if I can’t have you, no one can” mentality. It even causes Margaret to get mad at herself for “causing” him to be so upset — which, again, he is not entitled to her feelings and she is not responsible for his happiness.

“‘Ah! if you had but never got this fancy into your head! It was such a pleasure to think of you as a friend.’

‘But I may hope, may I not, Margaret, that some time you will think of me as a lover? Not yet, I see—there is no hurry—but some time——‘

She was silent for a minute or two, trying to discover the truth as it was in her own heart, before replying, then she said:

‘I have never thought of—you, but as a friend. I like to think of you so; but I am sure I could never think of you as anything else. Pray let us both forget that all this” (“disagreeable,” she was going to say, but stopped short) ‘conversation has taken place.’”

Ok, so I’m going to take Henry’s side for just a second on this — hear me out. I think it’s a little mean for her to call his feelings just a “fancy” as if he thought of it one day and, on a lark, decided to confess his feelings. I don’t think that’s fair of her to say to him. You can’t help your feelings and it’s not entirely fair of her to expect him to keep it bottled up inside. While his confession speech has been pretty abysmal (sorry it’s true), I don’t blame him for having those feelings, just the way they’re expressed.

On the other hand, I’ve been in Margaret's exact same situation and have almost wanted to say the exact same thing! Like “we had such a good thing going and this came out of nowhere; what’s up with that?” I didn’t though, because I realize that’s kind of invalidating to hear. I also think that’s her being blunt and not filtering her thoughts, which is understandable given the heightened emotions (and even more so, if we read it in the lens of her being ND).

Henry insists on the point of her being able to love him romantically sometime in the future, to which she has to think about. I’m glad she actually takes the time to examine her own feelings before answering. She already knows the answer, but it’s good to be sure and honestly give it some thought.

That’s when she drops a hammer of her own: she has only thought of him as a friend, does so now, and is certain she can only do so in the future. She also wants to set this conversation behind them — almost calling it disagreeable in the process. She stops herself short, but I believe she makes a face or something in her demeanor registers it as such, because Henry picks up on it. Again, she’s being blunt, but this time she’s able to catch herself and spare his feelings a little.

“He paused before he replied. Then, in his habitual coldness of tone, he answered:

‘Of course, as your feelings are so decided, and as this conversation has been so evidently unpleasant to you, it had better not be remembered. That is all very fine in theory, that plan of forgetting whatever is painful, but it will be somewhat difficult for me, at least, to carry it into execution.’”

It’s telling that he becomes cold once he realizes she’s serious about staying friends forever. It’s sad that this 180 degree turn from Henry is still so relatable in today’s age! He does agree to her wishes, albeit reluctantly due to it being difficult for him. This I can understand; once you confess your feelings for someone and are subsequently rejected, it's a bit hard to just "forget" the entire conversation and go back to normal. Unfortunately, that's the consequence you have to face if you're going to confess to your friend like that; I think he was just so confident she'd return his feelings, he assumed this wouldn't happen.

“'You are vexed,' said she, sadly; “yet how can I help it?' She looked so truly grieved as she said this, that he struggled for a moment with his real disappointment, and then answered more cheerfully, but still with a little hardness in his tone: 'You should make allowances for the mortification, not only of a lover, Margaret, but of a man not given to romance in general—prudent, worldly, as some people call me—who has been carried out of his usual habits by the force of a passion—well, we will say no more of that; but in the one outlet which he has formed for the deeper and better feelings of his nature, he meets with rejection and repulse. I shall have to console myself with scorning my own folly. A struggling barrister to think of matrimony!'”

Her grief does cause him to realize that he needs to stop making her feel bad about this -- or, at least, broadcast a facade of good cheer -- if they're going to have any hope of keeping the friendship. After all, they're still in Helstone's garden with Margaret's dad not too far off!!!

However, he's not able to cover up his "disappointment" entirely and it shows as "hardness in his tone". He doesn't apologize for giving her grief, but instead asks her to make "allowances" for him. I don't like this for a lot of reasons (why does she have to make allowances for you when you don't seem to give the same respect back?), but what's even worse is that he says one of those allowances should be "for the mortification...of a lover..." UM??? If I’m reading this right, he wants her to allow for him feeling like he was her lover and now having to deal with her rejection of romance. Henry, let me break it down for you: you were never her lover -- ever. If you felt like her lover, that is your issue, not hers, to deal with. The fact that you're admitting that aloud is appalling and the fact you want her to allow for that problem is even worse. It’s almost like he kept up a pretense of friendship and all the while imagining they were lovers. That’s so weird!!! And again, remains relatable (unfortunately).

The other allowance, which I mentioned earlier, is that he’s not a big “feelings” person and since he got carried away by his passions, she should understand why he feels crushed that the one time he’s swept off his feet by romance, the feelings are not returned. I hate to tell you, Henry, but just because you’re more “worldly” than the rest of us doesn’t mean you’re going to get a girlfriend faster: just a pro tip!

Both of these allowances are quite silly, in my opinion. Yeah, so you have a crush for the first time and you thought of her as your girlfriend and the feelings weren’t mutual. What is she supposed to do, give you a cookie? I’m being facetious, of course, I know what he’s actually hoping is for her to change her mind and be like “I had no idea I was your first crush 🥺 wow, since I’m so special to you, of course I’ll court you!!! 😍❤️” which — ugh. I want to say he doesn’t understand how women work, but I’m hard-pressed to see how this would work on anyone!! Maybe in his head it would work on one of those “regular London girls” (which I’m beginning to think is just a made up notion in his head of women anyway), but I’ve said that Margaret is not one of those women (if they do exist) and never will be. The fact that he thinks he can make her be one or she will become one in time is concerning: what would he be like if they did court? Would she be expected to change for him? Or even if he does like her as is, would she be expected to “act differently” in front of his friends and other relatives? Again, reading this in a NT/ND lens really adds another layer of meaning to how this would affect Margaret’s mental health in the long term.

He ends this by saying he’ll have to “console himself by scorning his own folly” and scoffing at the idea of a struggling man in his job thinking of marriage. First of all, she has literally said nothing about your profession — you brought that up briefly before in your confession (I didn’t mention it because I didn’t have anything to say on it) — but she never said “I’m not going to court you because you’re a lawyer struggling to make ends meet”. Of course, you’re going to think that because it’s easier to think of her as shallow (only after men for their current money) and the “problem” as something you can fix (he can fix a money issue, can’t fix her thoughts of him being a friend), but really: how in denial can you be?

Secondly, this is the first time he’s brought up marriage. Of course, in the Victorian age that’s where courtships were supposed to lead, but still. It’s interesting that he waited until now to drop that last bit in; it almost seems like a last-ditch lament to be like “woe is me! How could I think anyone would ever marry me 🥺💔” which would pull at the heartstrings. Of course, I’m likely reading too much into this because I’m reading it in the tone of him doing anything to try to get her to court/marry him, even using manipulation and guilt tactics to do so. Is it likely he’s just upset and saying whatever comes to mind? Sure. But some people will do anything to get their way and so far he hasn’t shown himself to be very graceful in dealing with rejection.

“Margaret could not answer this. The whole tone of it annoyed her. It seemed to touch on and call out all the points of difference which had often repelled her in him; while yet he was the pleasantest man, the most sympathising friend, the person of all others who understood her best in Harley Street. She felt a tinge of contempt mingle itself with her pain at having refused him. Her beautiful lip curled in a slight disdain.”

I suppose I’m not the only one getting bad vibes from this last speech. Margaret sees the worst parts of him — the little things that had always bothered her about him — and while she still feels bad about hurting him, she can’t help but visibly show “disdain” for the way he’s talking to her now.

Suddenly, they come upon Mr. Hale and Margaret feels as if she's had an out-of-body experience, comparing it to an Eastern tale of a king who went through an experience of a lifetime just by dipping his head in a magical basin of water. In other words, she is not the same as she was when she last saw her father!

Of course, due to the amount of emotions with everything that has just taken place, she is quite unable to speak and lets Henry and her father do most of the talking. Henry notices her quiet and morose look and:

“"I am not so indifferent to her as she believes,' thought he to himself. 'I do not give up hope."”

Oh...oh no. Henry, literally just accept the no. She told you no -- JUST ACCEPT THE -- ok, I need to calm down. This man is fictional. The problem is there are men -- nay, people -- who think like this. Who will hear a "no" and then see the person's face and have such a cognitive dissonance IN THEIR BRAIN that they're like "nah, they actually totally want me, THEY just can't see the truth yet." As if they know better.

It's really hilarious Henry thinks he knows Margaret's thoughts and feelings better than *she* does considering he doesn't even know how to talk to her without her shutting him down because he accidentally disrespected her small town (rhyme not intended but a pleasant surprise). How does he think a relationship with a foundation like that? I realize they are good friends and get along in other ways, but it is sooooo telling to me that the *second* he flirts, she either becomes uncomfortable or straight up doesn't get it (or pretends not to, depending on how you read it). How could they be married like that??

So yeah, unfortunately, Margaret is not even allowed to look sad without Henry jumping on the chance that she'll want him someday. I'm almost 100% sure this would've happened regardless of the facial expression she had. Happy (from trying to keep up a cheerful facade)? "Oh, she's actually super happy I confessed my feelings and will love me soon, just watch." Mad? "She's actually mad at herself for refusing me." Confused? "She doesn't know what she wants, she'll choose me eventually." That's just the kind of person we're dealing with here.

"Before a quarter of an hour was over, he had fallen into a way of conversing with quiet sarcasm; speaking of life in London and life in the country, as if he were conscious of his second mocking self, and afraid of his own satire."

Ok, so this passage is really hard to decipher for me and I might need some help figuring ot out! From what I'm able to gather, he's mainly mocking both the country and London, but maybe in also a self-depricating way as well (this is the main part I'm stuck on)? What I do understand is why he's doing this; Henry is a man who's default is to mock and be sarcastic. It's his coping mechanism for when things get too "real". We haven't seen him be as such yet because he hasn't needed to be around Margaret. However, now that he's been thrown off by her rejection, his way of dealing with it is to slip back into empty sarcasm.

Mr. Hale notices this change and is quite put off by it, even being relieved when he has to leave. He notes the change from the "lighter, clever, more worldly man" he saw earlier and at the wedding breakfast. It's interesting how a lot of people tend to use sarcasm to seem more clever and worldy, but Gaskell sees through this and contrasts them as opposites in this chapter! What a callout! She's so real for that.

At the last moment, Henry Lennox’s real self broke through the crust. “Margaret, don’t despise me; I have a heart, notwithstanding all this good-for-nothing way of talking. As a proof of it, I believe I love you more than ever—if I do not hate you—for the disdain with which you have listened to me during this last half-hour. Good-bye, Margaret—Margaret!”

First of all, describing the weird sarcasm thing he was doing as a "crust" is funny and interesting to me -- I didn't know that could mean "harsh" or "surly": the more you know! Secondly, love that he calls out his own coping mechanism while still having done it -- progress, I guess? And third -- best of all -- Henry, my guy, my dude, why on earth would you tell her you love her while also saying you might hate her because she hasn't been happy with you for the past 30 minutes???? I am truly baffled. Has this man ever wooed a woman in his life? For the sake of the female population, I truly hope not because if THIS is how he does it -- YIKES!!!! Luckily, he probably hasn't considering his whole "i'M a lAwYeR wHo dOeSnT hAvE bIg rOmAnCe fEeLiNgS" speech.

And that's the way the chapter ends, so I'll end with a couple of points I want to make clear.

I know I've been super hard on Henry and -- to be fair -- I think he's deserved some of it. But I don't think he's a bad person. So far, Gaskell has written all of her characters with a complexity and depth that shows you're supposed to root for these characters (more or less), while also understanding their flaws. There were times I pointed out when Margaret wasn't at her best either; while she isn't entitled to return Henry's feelings, she was sort of trivializing them and I wouldn't like that either. I think the problem with Henry is that he's used to getting what he wants and when he doesn't get it, he gets upset and lashes out the way he did with Margaret. I do honestly think he needs to work on himself and not think of romance right now because it sounds like he has deeper problems going on; if Margaret's rejection causes him to act like this, it's not just her rejection that's bothering him. I noticed that he talked about how he's currently struggling in his job and I think that can also account for him getting upset -- perhaps he had hoped for this to be a "good thing" to focus on instead of his work that isn't going well. I'm glad Margaret didn't return his feelings in that case because having one person the sole source of your happiness is never healthy and running away from your problems won't fix them! So yes, while I'm hard on him I do still think he has good moments and can be better: we're just seeing him at his worst. Still, that doesn't excuse his behavior, just explains it.

I also want to clarify for those who think I'm being too harsh on Henry and am doing so because I "don't understand what it's like to be rejected romantically". As a quick personal aside: I've been on his side of a romantic confession and was also rejected by someone who was my friend. And it hurt -- badly. Especially because there were many "signs" I read too much into as romantic (flirting, holding hands, etc.) so said rejection was not what I saw coming, much like Henry. However, when I realized that this person only saw me as a friend and wanted to keep it that way, I immediately told them "ok, I understand" and then took some time to myself to sort through my feelings. These were mainly embarrasment, shame, sorrow, and anger -- not at the person, but at myself for potentially ruining the friendship over this.

My main problem with Henry is that he reacts to Margaret's rejection with disappointment, anger, frustration, and hurt. These don't seem like the kind of emotions that come with an unselfish love, I hate to say it. I know there is likely more feelings bubbling beneath the surface, but if he's going to react that way and realizes he's hurting her in the process (which he does), he should ask for space while he sorts himself out. I get that wasn't "the thing" back then so I guess it's a bit harder for me to say "oh, Henry should've just left!" when no, he can't just abruptly leave like that and "oh, Henry should just work on his mental health" when that was very much not talked of. I'm just trying to think of ways he could've better handled this situation; he can't help his feelings, but he can help how he acts on those feelings. And it's not fair to Margaret to continually pressure her into a relationship she so obviously does not want. Additionally, the way he makes his confession/proposal frustrates me too because he mainly makes it about himself and his feelings. He wishes she wasn't happy at Helstone, he loves her, he's not a romantic person so it's a big deal for him. I mean, he doesn't even talk about her good qualities or what he likes about her: even Mr. "and what excellent boiled potatoes" Collins did that!!!!!

As a final note, if you're reading Dracula Daily at the same time as North and South Weekly, you may have noticed a few parallels between this failed proposal and Jack Seward's failed proposal. I want to dive into them and why I respect Seward's more than Lennox's, but I don't want to do it here because this post might be my longest to date and I'd rather make it a separate post anyway!

So yeah, another great chapter, excited to see what happens next week!

[imlivinginyourtrashcan]

Okay fiiiine guys; have a sneak peak of MM PII/lh

Lenore walks through the hallways, paranoia beginning to creep into her as she replays the conversation in her head. It seemed so ridiculous, but then again, much weirder has happened within the confines of the Academy. The bell rang out through the empty corridors, making her groan. Great. More demerits to lap onto the pile. She can’t help but stare at the windows, if her reflection could speak, wouldn’t it do so while they were alone? Or is hers smarter? “No no no no, you can’t possibly be willing to entertain that idea.” She mutters, waving a hand away from no one. She glimpses Duke at the end of the hall, putting more pep in her step to catch up with his casual stride. “Duke!” She called out. He paused and turned around, smiling as soon as he saw her, “Mon amie!” He pats her on the back, “Glad to see you’re still in one piece,” He raises a brow, “C'était quoi ça?”

“Hm?” Lenore hums, tilting her head to the side, ear falling on Duke’s hand, “Why did Madame Antoinette drag you off like that?” She didn’t ponder the question, an amused smile appearing on her face after his question slipped from his mouth. “Oh, nothing really.” She dismissed, walking a bit ahead of him, “Talked my ear off about something, can’t remember what it was now.” Duke snickers, rolling his eyes playfully, “Are we going to have to try and throw her off the balcony again?” He jests, making Lenore’s demeanor grow serious, “Watch. It.” She spat through clenched teeth, he raised his hands, “Alright! Alright! Désolé, ponytail!” She still had the expression of a pissed persian cat, opening the doors of the classroom.

Miss Poppet had been rambling about the lesson for some time, all eyes turning on the two of them as they entered, “Tardiness!” Miss Poppet gawks, pointing at them, “5 demerits! Both of you!” Duke nearly groaned before the two sat down next to each other, alongside their companions. Lenore looked up at Pluto, “Did we miss anything?”

“Nothing of value…” Pluto replies, shrugging his shoulders, “Just a new lesson.”

“What about?” Duke asks, leaning forward to hear Pluto better. But instead, Berenice butted her way into the conversation, setting her hands behind her head, “Summin’ ‘bout mirrors?” Lenore could feel her face go pale. Crap, Annabel was right?! She thought she was crazy or something.

Annabel looked on, trying to keep her composure for the remainder of Ms. Poppet’s babbling, there were warnings there, she was sure, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. She would occasionally glance toward the room’s window, half wishing that the one off mirror incident would happen again so she could prove to Lenore that she wasn’t some madwoman desperate for attention. But alas, nothing. “One more thing!” Mrs. Poppet announces, clasping her hands together, “Specters are unnecessary for the lesson, do not use them unless it is absolutely vital. Good luck, students!”

Not even a second went by, and Lenore was separated from her peers, and from Annabel. She was surrounded by a maze full of mirrors, the walls and floor surrounded by glass prisms, and yet she couldn’t see her own reflection. Odd. She walked straight for a while, touching a hand to the glass in front of her, stroking it downward with her fingertips. “Strange…” she muttered, “LENORE!?” Shouted a voice, Morella’s. “Morella?” Lenore called back, following the sound, “Morella, darling? Are you here?” She called again. “Lenore!” The voice cried back, downpitching into twisted distortion. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Lenore slowly creaked her head upwards towards the monster, seeing its hunched back and hulkling quadrupedal exterior. Claws for limbs, orange coat draping on top, and a circular mirror for a head. “I’ve finally found you..” The voice shifted in pitch, mirrored head peering down at Lenore, who didn’t hesitate for a second, turning and darting the other way.

She heard the beast roar, hearing the glass behind her thunk as it approaches, thunking right into the dead end wall, she stands and looks behind her, the monster growing ever closer. She felt a pit in her stomach, refusing to shut her eyes even though she knew the end was approaching. She feels the mirror ripple and she’s pulled in quickly, reaching towards nothing. The monster stops in front of the dead end, a low growl emitting from its throat, it looks up and cries in a bellowing his, turning away and thunking its claws into the porcelain ground.

“Lenore?” Asked a voice, making Lenore’s eyes shoot open, turning upward to see who it was. “Y’alright?” It was Montresor. He sets her down and grips her shoulders, staring into her dazed eyes, “Goin’ up against that kinda thang? Pfft- shoot! I admire yer bravery, firebug!” His face softened, looking at Lenore intently, watching her hold his head. “Y’okay? Yer not respondin’.... should I go get Duke?”

“Hhhhh…” She groaned, “Yyyyyeah, I’m gittin’ ‘em,” Montresor began, patting Lenore’s shoulder, “Stay right ‘ere, I’ll be back.” He darted off in a few seconds, jumping into another mirror without struggle. Lenore holds her head, feeling the whole room spin, it's almost too overwhelming, feeling her grasp on consciousness slip. Before it all goes dark she sees a blur, and hears a muffled shout, “Ponytail!” And then it goes black.

[hannieehaee]

PINK IN THE NIGHT (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: you were like forbidden fruit for joshua; simply unattainable. no matter how much he wanted you, he knew you were jeonghan's. but what joshua didn't seem to realize was that his best friend was more than happy to share.

content: bf!jeonghan x reader, bf'sbestfriend!joshua x reader, cucking, afab reader, smut jeonghan's just rlly happy to see his two fave people together (in any and every context), voyeurism, poly dynamics, oral (m and f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.4k (teaser); 8.5k (full fic)

release date: january 26th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: i took way too long to finish this my bad .... anyways i hope u guys enjoy !! sorry there's not much in the teaser </3

masterlist | kofi / patreon

Joshua wasn't sure how much more he would take.

From the moment he had seen his best friend walk into the room with you by his side, he knew he was done for.

Granted, that had been the first time he had ever met Jeonghan's girlfriend, but all it had taken was one simple look for his ability to reason to completely leave him.

He wasn't sure what it had been. Maybe it was the confident grin on your face (one matching with that of Jeonghan's), or maybe the pretty dress you were wearing. Perhaps it was how affectionate you seemed towards Jeonghan (a trait that always drew Joshua to women). Or maybe it was just a bit of everything. He hadn't needed to get to know you, or even hear the sound of your voice before deciding he was infatuated by you. You were just his type.

His belief of you being tailored specifically for his liking was further confirmed upon Jeonghan's introduction of the two of you. Your personality just went with Joshua's perfectly. The two of you even shared a myriad of common interests, with the main one sadly being Jeonghan. Amidst his interest in you, Joshua had to keep it clear in his mind that you were spoken for. You were Jeonghan's, and that was something he just needed to respect.

Despite that having been your first meeting, Joshua had been made aware of your existence months in advance. It had been during a period of time when Joshua was away for individual promotions that you and Jeonghan had first met and eventually started dating. Joshua heard a lot about you through the phone and through text, but had been the last member to actually meet you. From Jeonghan's multiple accounts, you seemed like the perfect match for his unpredictable and slick-tongued friend. Upon meeting you, this description was thoroughly confirmed. Not only did your angelic appearance match that of Jeonghan's, but your peculiar personality was almost the same as his best freind's (and his too). You truly checked all boxes for the perfect partner for Jeonghan, and unfortunately, for Joshua too.

Now, it all could've been perfect had his pesky feelings not gotten in the way. What he had at first assumed to be simple physical infatuation was later confirmed to be actual emotional feelings. The more the got to know you, the more he liked you. And sadly for Joshua, he spent way more time with you than he would've liked.

Jeonghan was truly a family man in every sense of the word. There was nothing he loved and valued more than his family, as they were his drive in life. To him, family meant anyone he held close in his heart; meaning his actual family, you, and his members. Since Joshua had officially taken the role of Jeonghan's best friend many years ago, it was just common sense to assume that Jeonghan would pair the two of you up quite often in order to hang out with two of his favorite people. However, there were times in which it got a bit ridiculous.

For instance, a few weeks back when there had not been enough space in the car driving you to the airport and Jeonghan suggested you sit on Joshua's lap, saying something about how he was too weak to take any amount of weight on his lap for such an extended period of time. Now, that had to be out of the ordinary for a guy to do with his friend and girlfriend, right? Having your best friend hold your girl so close to him – on his lap – while she bounced every so often due to the commotion of the vehicle? That had to be considered at least eighty types of strange. Not only was it torture for Joshua to become overly familiar with the floral scent coming from your pretty hair pressed against his torso (how in the hell did you know what his favorite scent was?), but the feeling of having you snuggly in his arms also didn't help.

Another instance had been one in which the three of you went out while Seventeen was touring in Japan. It had all been fine and dandy until he'd noticed the necklace you were wearing. It was matching with the one Jeonghan had given him a few weeks prior, except he had told Joshua it was meant to be a friendship necklace. Looking over at Jeonghan, he realized there was no necklace on his neck. Had he bought the three of you matching necklaces but forgotten to wear his own? Joshua could've believed this thought, except this had not been the first time Jeonghan had 'forgotten' something like this. Just a few weeks back he had realized your phone case was matching yet another one of Jeonghan's identical gifts to him, all while Jeonghan had his usual phone case. When questioned about it, Jeonghan simply shrugged and claimed he forgot, insisting in getting a picture of you and Joshua with your matching items while you coo'd at the cute 'coincidence'.

However, these simple mismatches were not the worst of it, no. The worst of it had come in the form of his very affectionate friend translating his own affections towards you and Joshua. Instead of him being the one sharing his affections, he would often decide that he wanted the two of you to be touchy with one another. Joshua wasn't sure how he fell for it every single time. His friend would be cuddling you on the couch while Joshua unsuspectedly watched a movie with the two of you, only to find himself pressed up against you two by the end of the night. Jeonghan was a sneaky and calculated man. If he wanted you and Joshua cuddling, then he would get it without even having to ask. In other instances, he would somehow manage to get the three of you holding hands as you strutted about on the streets of whichever city you were located in at the moment (Did he mention that Jeonghan also liked to take you on tour with them?), with you always being in the middle of the two.

What Joshua didn't understand was why exactly Jeonghan was so willing to share you with him. Granted, none of your interactions were impure by any means, but they were always just a little too much. Joshua had only known you for a few months, and although he was your friend, he found himself being way more physically affectionate with you than he was with any other friends of his (sans his members, of course). Except it all felt natural to him. Jeonghan had somehow managed to condition both you and Joshua to feel extreme comfort around each other; enough to never question Jeonghan's antics when it involved the two of you.

You certainly never seemed to mind Joshua constantly third wheeling you and your boyfriend. At times, Joshua even felt like you were the one who wanted him around. You'd constantly throw him flirty smiles (or at least that's what he liked to believe), you'd never hesitate to engage in whatever antics Jeonghan pulled you into (whether it was a matching hoodie that Jeonghan seemingly forgot to wear yet again or hand holding across the streets of Japan), you'd excitedly text the groupchat Jeonghan had made.

All signs pointed towards you being completely content with the situation. This was yet another part of your dynamic with his best friend that made his brain beat at itself looking for answers. Did the two of you know about his feelings? Was this just an overly dragged-out ruse fabricated by Jeonghan in order to prank him? He knew his friend to be a bit of a weirdo when it came to his shenanigans (it was part of his charm, truly), but he also knew he'd never outwardly try and humiliate Joshua like that, so it was very unlikely that this whole thing had begun with that intention. Maybe his best friend simply adored being with both you and him, making him always pair you up to maximize the time he spent with the two of you. That's what Joshua decided to go with, at least. His only issue was that he was unsure of how long he could keep his feelings for you at bay, specially with the constant proximity between you and him.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Platonic headcanons of blue beetle please ??

Jaime is the bestest friend you’ve ever made in your life.

He’s undyingly loyal and values your friendship highly, keeping it protected with his whole chest as though it was a priceless treasure because to Jaime, that was 100% true. After all he doesn’t take to anything that heavily involves you or his family lightly.

He just wants to protect all of you that it hurts when there do come times where he couldn’t. He personally beats himself up over it even though your right next to him, trying to reassure him that not everything that has happened was his fault.

Jaime can be stubborn but he’s not unreasonably stubborn because again everything he felt came from of place of genuine care.

So let’s say you’re a little bit on the chaotic side and wanted to do something beyond stupid, Jaime would often scold you based on how ridiculous the idea was before ultimately agreeing to join in because he’s not about to let you have all the fun now is he?

And besides you’ll face the consequences together like you’ve always had since childhood and that’s the way it’ll be until your both old with age.

Getting extremely excited over things that you mutually enjoy together and withhold deep talks in regards to theories, small details that are homages for those that are familiar with the source material in his bedroom and so on.

The passage of time is lost on the pair of you as you divulge in the things you’re most passionate about.

You know he’s Blue Beetle. Now wether that be through circumstance or he just tells you straight up by flashing you the scarab on his back is entirely up to you.

However with this knowledge comes getting constantly kidnapped by verbose wanting to hit Jaime where it hurts and going after the people whom he loved most and couldn’t stand to live life without. Which also meant Jaime having to come again and again to your rescue, not that he minded, he just wanted his best friend safe and sound and will continue to come to your rescue no matter what because that’s what a super powered friend does for their non-super-powered loved ones.

Does he freak the fuck out each time you get captured? Yes because on some rare occasions he and Khaji-Da were just barely able to save you. And so Jaime became extremely protective over you afterwards, which would sometimes lead to him watching over you as you were heading home after spending the day over at his, making sure that you were safe from being snatched up once more.

Khaji-Da says this is borderline creepy but Jaime has his argument prepared as to why it wasn’t.

You: did the scarab actually go up your ass?

Jaime: not you too.

You: just answer the question Reyes.

In finality: Jaime is just the best person ever.

[mystra-midnight]

Haunted Hoedown - DAY FOUR

summary: it felt like a thunderstorm was roaring in your head. Yyu heard him, but his words didn't register in your brain the way they should have. there was only building, mounting, and ruining pleasure that was spreading through your organs and seizing your limbs.

warnings: ghost!eddie x reader. mentions of an unsatisfying sex life/readers ex being a douche. masturbation. voyeurism. somnophilia. eddie being a tad mean/dom.

words: 5.7k

notes: day four of the haunted hoedown challenge being hosted by @inklore and @psychedelic-ink. a bit delayed because i was away seeing amy lee live and in person and fangirling. i tried a different style here with that i'm not 100% sure i love but i hope you enjoy reading.

prompt: american horror story Inspired + “i would burn the world for you.”

May 7th. 2001.

"Tell me why this place is so cheap."

You looked wide-eyed around the apartment. It was utterly perfect—exactly what you'd been hoping for when moving to Hawkins, Indiana. The walls were painted off-white, there were brand-new stainless steel appliances, and there were timber floors throughout. The ceilings were high, and there was a little reading nook, two large bedrooms, and a large clawed bathtub.

But the best part was that it was advertised at more than half the true market value. It was absolutely ridiculous, crazy, and completely illogical, and you couldn't understand why.

You saw the realtor flinch at the question, which immediately brought you down from the clouds. Shit. Of course, it was too good to be true. There had to be something wrong with the property for the owner to sell it for practically next to nothing.

With a sigh, you faced him. His expression was grim.

"Well, you see, um, there was, uh," he stammered, tripping over his words as he searched for the right ones, the ones that wouldn't scare you away. "About fifteen years ago, before the urban development and technology boom came to Hawkins, a young man died in the trailer park that used to be on this lot."

Your heart dropped as the horror of his words sank in, but the feeling was fleeting. Someone who was a stranger to you died ten years ago. They hadn't even lived in the apartment, so that didn't explain the next-to-nothing price. You said as much to the realtor, pressing him for more information.

"The owners want to sell the property quickly, rather than for money. They've explained that there were some... how do I put this? Some strange events occurred while they were living here."

"Such as?"

"Things would move when no one was around. There were always problems with the central heating. The televisions and radios would change channels in the middle of programmes or turn on in the middle of the night. I assume most of this is because of defective wiring somewhere in the building, but none of the electricians were able to find the cause."

You watched him cringe, as though saying the words aloud was physically painful to him. It all sounded ridiculous. And none of it was enough to make you turn down such a fantastic property for such a stupidly low price.

"That's all?" You teased, flashing the man a smile. "Consider the place sold.

June 11th. 2001.

Despite the realtor double-checking and then triple-checking, you crossed your T's and dotted your I's and bought the apartment that same day. You moved in the following month, piling boxes upon boxes, each one with a specific room written on it in your scribble: kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, guest room, reading. You bought new furniture and decorated the walls with pictures of your family and the knick-knacks you'd accumulated after college.

It had taken weeks to sort out all the rooms and empty all the boxes, but the apartment finally felt like a real home, and you'd completely forgotten what the realtor had said when showing you the property: strange events.

It started after three blissful and uneventful weeks. Things had started to go missing, just like he said. It wasn't anything overly important, just small things like your rings, your glasses, or sometimes even your panties. Things would go missing for days at a time before reappearing in locations that they had no business being in.

And then the cold started. Not just cold, but freezing cold.

It got so bad that some nights you would see your own breath misting in the air. It never seemed to matter how high you set the thermostat or how many blankets you piled on top of you—you couldn't stop shivering.

But while all these things were certainly strange, they weren't illogical. You could explain each of them: you misplaced things because you'd moved towns—hell, you'd moved states—and were getting used to living somewhere new. It was also cold because the central heating was faulty. The lights would flicker because the wiring was done wrong. All of that made perfect sense.

But what didn't make a lick of logical sense was when things started to move while you were staring right at them. Hallway doors would swing wide open, slamming into the walls as though they'd been ripped open violently in fits of rage. Shadows would creep along the walls when you weren't looking. You'd catch a glimpse from the corner of your eyes of these stalking shapes, only for them to be gone when you turned to look at them.

Then the photos started to fall from their hooks on the wall, sometimes thrown across the room, so that the frames broke and glass shards littered the floors. You make yourself a meal only for the plate to be thrown off the table and against the wall, leaving the paint stained with splotches. It frightened you, leaving you turning off the lights, running to bed, and hiding under the covers like you were suddenly twelve years old again.

The worst of it was when the dissonant whispering started. It would wake you in the middle of the night, leaving you clutching a baseball bat for dear life. Your co-workers all agreed that you were stressed and overworked, probably exhausted from uprooting your entire life and moving across the country. None of them believed in ghosts, horror stories, or haunted houses.

You thought you might be going insane until you saw him.

July 4th. 2001.

Eddie Munson.

"Hey!" You called, startling the boy standing in front of your dresser. The top right drawer was opened, and your panties were on full display. Hidden beneath them was your vibrator, and you found yourself flustered, angry, embarrassed, and scared.

He looked at you with wide doe-eyes, swimming pools of brown that you could easily get lost in if he wasn't holding a pair of your panties to his nose like some god-damn pervert. You held a bat in your hand, ready to swing, when he turned and ran. You give chase, following him around the queen bed with fresh sheets and into the bathroom that joined the two bedrooms.

By the time you rounded the bed and made it through the doorway, he was gone, seemingly having vanished into thin air. Your panties were on the ground. You spent hours checking rooms, closets, and any nook and cranny a boy of his size could hide in. You even called the police and filed a report, but there was no evidence of forced entry.

In the days that followed, you took to sleeping with the bat besides the bed and a kitchen knife beneath your pillows. It was childish, but having them so close made you feel safer.

The next few weeks were surprisingly and uneventful, and soon you settled back into a familiar routine. Work five days a week, from eight in the morning until five in the afternoon, come home and eat, channel surf for a few hours, shower, and sleep. You were even able to have friends over without anything weird ruining the atmosphere.

It was as you were chancel surfing that you saw him again. You were looking through the music stations for something to listen to while you showered; you skimmed through the pop stations and skipped over the metal stations before setting on one that was playing When It's Over by Sugar Ray. The song was catchy and tended to get stuck in your head with how much it played on the radio, but it was a good one.

"Wait! Go back!"

You screamed.

With your heart pounding wildly in your chest and your stomach having fallen out of your arse, you stared at him. He seemed entirely unaware of your fright, instead gesturing frantically at the television. "Turn it back!"

This was the first time you'd gotten an up-close look at him. He was dressed in black jeans with rips in the knees and a shirt that said Hellfire Club. As he motioned between the remote in your hand and the television, it rode up, revealing a trail of hair that started at his navel and disappeared into his jeans. He had a leather jacket on and a denim Dio vest over it.

He looked like something straight out of the 80's.

"Back!" He yelled louder this time. He sounded panicked and frantic, and that was what snapped you from your stupor. You flicked backwards through the channels, finding the metal music one, when he ordered you to stop. He stared wide-eyed at the television, where Metallica was playing a live concert. You recognised the song; it was Fuel.

"That's James Hetfield," he said, his tone disbelieving. He flopped open-mouthed onto the couch as Kirk Hammett and Lars Ulrich began the opening rift. "This is Metallica."

"Yeah?"

"I don't know this song."

"It was released about four years ago; how can you not have heard it?"

You pressed yourself tightly into the arm of the couch, feeling it dig painfully into your back, when he whirled around to face you. His face was overcome with surprise, shock, and something else you'd yet to comprehend. Wild curls bounced around his face before settling into place.

"Four years?"

You shivered beneath the intensity of his stare and his emotions; even his presence in your apartment sent a chill down your spine. You nodded quickly, clutching the television to your chest like it was a weapon. Your grip was so tight that your knuckles ached.

"That's not possible," he whispered, turning back to the television as the lyrics started. "They look different. They sound different. This is crazy. They just released Master of Puppets?"

That caught your attention, and it was then your turn to be surprised.

"That was fifteen years ago."

"What?" He rounded on you a second time.

Over the next few weeks, you learned more about him. He’d lived in the trailer park with his uncle Wayne, and he’d passed in a tragic accident, an earthquake; his uncle had never found his body. You suspected there was more to it, but he was unwilling to give more details.

That accident had happened fifteen years ago, and the trailer park had been demolished about seven years later. A development block had been built to replace it, which eventually turned into an apartment complex as Hawkins expanded.

Eddie had only been twenty-one when he died. You learned that he liked music. Well, no, you learned that he loved Metallica and Dio. So you started to leave the television on when you went to work, letting it play from dusk to dawn to keep him entertained. Then you started buying magazines and comics to leave them open for him to read; you even bought home Metallica's latest CD.

And as the weeks dragged on, his presence in your apartment became less terrifying, except for the times he would seemingly materialise from nowhere. You even started asking him to hang out with you at night. The two of you would spend hours watching movies and music videos and just talking.

September 19th. 2001.

"Come on, Eddie!" You whined. He was behaving like a child, and you were exasperated and fed up with his antics. He was standing in front of the door with his arms crossed over his chest, obscuring the words on the front of his shirt.

"Don't you 'Eddie' me," he cautioned, his brown eyes narrowing into a glare. He hated the idea that you were mocking him, though he was smart enough to realise that wasn't what you were doing right now. "He's an asshole. I don't understand why you can't see it."

"Because I know him! You've only ever seen him! Briefly, I might add!"

Eddie threw his hands up in frustration; the sound that left his mouth was all but a growl. He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake you until your brains leaked out of your ears. Then you might be smart enough to realise that Michael was a fucking douchebag. "And I see you too!" Eddie spat, the fieriness in his tone making you roll your eyes and shiver simultaneously.

"Every time you've seen him, you come home frustrated, like the man doesn't know how to fuck or something! You always come back bitchier than when you left!"

"Eddie!"

If you could have hit him, you would have. His words hit too close to home for comfort. Michael was nice enough, if not vain and at times arrogant. He came from money, and he often acted and thought that money would carry him through the world. But he treated you well enough, and you enjoyed his company most of the time.

Except Eddie's intuition hit the nail on the head—Michael didn't know how to fuck. At least, not well. Each time you felt the familiar warmth of orgasm approaching, the same thing happened. It didn't matter that you'd be crying out his name and clawing at his back, begging him not to stop; he'd move, change his angle, change his pace, change his position, and you would be left a frustrated mess.

On the rare occasions he cared, he was able to make you cum. He'd work you over until you tumbled into oblivion, his fingers buried in your pussy as it clenched and spasmed around them, your back arched off the mattress. But he cared for his own pleasure above all others, and nine times out of ten, you didn't finish.

"Eddie!" He mocked. "Is my name the only thing you can say, sweetheart?"

"I'm not taking dating advice from a dead man!"

You regretted the words the moment they left your mouth. Tears burned in the back of your throat from how you swallowed the urge to cry, your emotions reaching a fever pitch as you walked through him. And as you passed, the cold of his presence enveloped you in a frigid hug but didn't stop you.

Instead, you left.

You drank too much that night; said too much, and let Michael work you over for far longer than you normally would. After being compliant and patient all night, he draped your legs over his shoulders, grunting and groaning as he fucked you, only to cum on your stomach before kissing you goodnight and slipping away. That had been the boiling point.

The relationship ended with you slapping Michael so hard that your hand hurt.

When you made it back home, the apartment was dark, cold, and empty. The television had turned off automatically at some point in the evening, and none of the lights were on. You’d expected him to be waiting for you with a smug smirk and an I told you so attitude, but Eddie wasn’t there, and that hurt more than the disappointing sex.

September 26th. 2001.

Six days later, you still hadn't seen him. Each night you tossed and turned, his absence from your life a gaping wound that often left you bleeding out and gasping for air. The apartment felt too large without him—too quiet and too empty. But you resigned yourself to the fact that you'd chased him away. He'd have found someone else to haunt, someone who appreciated him instead of insulting him. So you found something else to occupy your mind.

Except while you were settling into the mountain of pillows on your bed, the scent of clean linen and vanilla swirling around the room, he decided to make his grand reappearance. Well, no, not exactly.

The moment he chose to reappear was when you were sprawled on the bed, thighs spread wide, and heels dug into the mattress as you worked the tips of your fingers over your aching clit and into your leaking hole. You hadn't had sex since breaking up with Michael, but the ache had been in your belly long before that. The knot between your hips was pulled taut when you saw Eddie standing at the foot of the bed, panic bursting to life inside your chest. You snapped your thighs tight together, your hand flying to press into the sheets to hide the sticky evidence of your arousal.

"Don't stop," he said softly, his voice breathy and light. His wide-doe eyes meet yours. "Please."

"Eddie," you whispered as your face warmed with embarrassment. He didn't miss the way you rubbed your thighs together, desperate to stifle the ache between them. In that moment, you wanted him to be the one touching you. You wanted to feel the warmth and weight of his palms as he held you down and his breath on your neck as he kissed, bit, and sucked. You wanted him in the worst way, and it hurt you beyond words that you couldn't have him.

"Open them." His tone was harsh this time—forceful and demanding, enticing a soft whine from your parted lips. The smirk that found its way to his plump lips was sinful. "No wonder he couldn't get you off. Was he too soft, sweetheart? You need to be told what you want to do, fucked like a whore, to be able to cum?"

Eddie wanted to grab your ankles and drag you to him. Your little nub was so sensitive that he wanted to spread you open and rub the tip of his tongue against it until you were begging for him. He wanted to watch you cum on his cock, his fingers, his thigh, his tongue, and his cock again. He wanted to feel you with every fibre of his ghostly being. "Be a good girl and open your legs, yeah?"

You were slow to react. You parted your thighs slowly and shyly until you were exposed to his hungry gaze. The insides of your thighs were sticky and shiny with the evidence of your first orgasm; your puffy folds were still slick as you parted them with your fingers, moving to rub one on either side of your clit. Your breath hitched at the sensation and the way his eyes followed your movements.

"Eddie," you whined his name softly while your head tipped back, your throat exposed, and your chest heaving with each sharp intake of air. The crown of your head mashed against the pillows, leaving your hair a mess. You imagined the way his hands would feel—rough and calloused. He'd played guitar before his death; you knew he'd be good with his fingers. He'd be able to find that spot deep inside your gummy walls that made stars, no, galaxies, burst to life inside your veins.

"What a fucking prick." He spat the words through his teeth, each syllable filled with venom. "Didn't know how good of a thing he had until it was gone. Never even deserved to have such a pretty pussy if he couldn't get you off. I bet he couldn't even do it with his fingers buried in there or with his tongue, either. Bet he just rammed his dick in without getting you worked up first."

"He doesn’t.." You sighed, your breath airy and full of arousal. "He... he never tasted me."

If it were possible, Eddie would have cum in his pants like a fucking virgin. Not only had that asshole left you a worked-up and unsatisfied mess because he didn't know how to fuck you right, he'd never even tasted you, which was a crying shame. Right now, all Eddie wanted to do was have your sweet cunt beneath his mouth. You were a feast on display, and he was forbidden from tasting, touching, and fucking.

Eddie watched as you pushed your fingers into your clenching hole, chasing the orgasm that was starting to sear through your veins. You were so wet, your slick dripping down the crack of your ass, only to be lost in the bed sheets. "Forget about him," he followed up with a gentler tone, the cold of his presence enveloping the air around you until your nipples turned to hardened peaks that crowned your tits. "Forget about him. Just touch that hot cunt for me, sweetheart."

You answered him with a whimper, your lower lip quivering before being captured between your teeth as your fingers moved deeper, seeking and searching for that sweet stop. You heard his sharp intake of breath as you fingered yourself; the schlick sounds echoing around the room were obscene and pornographic. Your slick arousal coated your fingers, your hand, your palm, and your thighs, shining beneath the dull glow of moonlight that peaked through the windows.

"Harder," he barked, and you obeyed. The heel of your palm slapped against your clit with each thrust of your fingers. "Faster."

It felt like a thunderstorm was roaring in your head. You heard him, but his words didn't register in your brain as they should have. There was only building, mounting, and ruining pleasure that was spreading through your organs and seizing your limbs. You come hard and long, crying a pretty symphony made up entirely of his name.

October 31st. 2001.

It worked for a while.

In spite of the entire situation making your face burn, you couldn't say no to him, not when he looked at you with those pretty doe-eyes or when he called you his good little whore. Thus, Eddie watched as you masturbated for him every night. He would tell you when to cum and how to touch yourself. You'd be told how many fingers to use and watched as you fucked yourself open.

It worked—until it didn’t.

After days and weeks, it wasn't enough to just touch yourself. You wanted him to touch you, but that was entirely impossible. So you threw yourself into your work and your social life to distract your melancholy heart. But each night, in the privacy of your apartment, you belonged entirely to him. You worked a double shift today in preparation for Halloween. Eddie hadn't said anything when you'd come home exhausted. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep like the dead.

And that was exactly what you'd done.

You didn't remember falling asleep, but you knew you weren't awake yet—you were floating on clouds in that blissful in-between. It was 3:15 a.m. in the morning, and you vaguely recognised the blurry red outline of the digital clock on the bedside table. The witching hour on All Hallows' Eve.

It was only the sudden, sharp zing of pleasure that woke you.

You cried out. Your voice was hoarse, and your vocal cords were thick with a myriad of emotions: sleep, confusion, panic, and sudden desperation. Reality finally dawned upon you as honey-sweet pleasure swept through your limbs, making them feel heavy and sluggish even as you grabbed a handful of the thick mop curls between your spread thighs.

You bucked your hips without intention, pushing his face deeper between your sticky folds until he grabbed your waist and pinned you to the mattress. When he pulled back and wrapped his wet lips around your throbbing clit, you could feel him smiling. A deep hum rumbled through his vocal cords and vibrated through your core until you were moaning out loud, your back in a perfect arch as red-hot lightning sizzled through your veins.

"E-Eddie?"

The panic in your voice finally encouraged him to lift his head. His doe-eyes were blown wide with lust, almost entirely black. You saw the way his chin dripped with a mixture of his saliva and your slick; he was a vision of ecstasy that made your brain short-circuit. This wasn't possible—it literally wasn't possible. But it was real. You felt the weight of his hands on your waist, the way his fingertips dug into your skin hard enough to leave bruises, and the way his weight dipped into the mattress.

"Was wondering when you'd wake up, sweets," he mumbled, his breath hot against your mound. Your thighs trembled and squeezed around his head when he dipped his head to lick from your quivering hole to your clit, lapping at the slick that practically leaked from you. There was a part of you screaming, wanting to rage and be angry at him for doing something like this while you were sleeping. There was also a part of you that wanted to be as distraught now as you had been the day you found him sniffing your panties.

Both parts were quiet, making room for the horny, touch-starved part of yourself to come to the surface. Your nails scratched his scalp when you tugged hard on his hair. Eddie tightened his hold on your waist to stop your impatient squirming as he kitten-licked your folds. You were already embarrassingly close, and he knew. It was obvious from the way you were squeezing your thighs around his head until his hearing muffled and how you squirmed and wriggled as the pressure in your belly built.

You made this sound—a little gasp of pleasure—that sent arousal rocketing through his veins and straight to his cock when he pushed two fingers into your tight pussy. His fingers were thicker than yours, larger and longer, reaching deep and rubbing against all of your nerves. You came without warning, slick walls clamping rightly around his thrusting fingers as the world shattered around you into sweet oblivion. Eddie kept his lips wrapped around your little nub, sucking and flicking his tongue against it as crystal shards of pleasure shot through her entire being. It felt like a bolt of white-hot lightning had struck your soul and set her world ablaze.

When you sagged against the mattress, Eddie climbed the length of your body, his lips leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses from your clit and up your belly, through the valley of your tits, until you were tasting yourself on his tongue. You touched him for the first time with shaking hands, feeling his skin against your palms, tracing the outline of each tattoo, and feeling how his muscles shifted and tensed beneath his skin as he settled between your thighs.

He was real; he was here, and he was yours.

As Eddie rubbed his cock against your sticky folds to get himself slick and lubricated, he groaned into your mouth. The flushed tip nudged your clit, causing you to gasp and arch beneath him. "Eddie," you moaned softly, your entire body burning and your eyes pleading for more.

"Say it." He growled. His breath was hot on your neck as he smeared open-mouth kisses along the column of your throat. He already knew what you wanted, but he wanted you to say it. He had to hear you say it. When you bucked up against him, desperate to feel him fill you or for friction of any kind, he pinned your hips down, refusing to give into your demands.

"Eddie," you whined. "Eddie, please, please, fuck me—ah!"

The stretch as he pushed inside was intense and immediate, more so than anything you'd ever felt. But it wasn't painful. No, it was deliciously mind-numbing. Your nails dug deep into his shoulders as you threw your head back. Your lips parted in breathless cries when he bottomed out, filling you so completely. The two of you have never talked about this moment, his size, or what to expect when having sex. Mostly because neither of you had expected this to ever happen.

Now that he was between your legs, holding them open with heavy palms, you knew that he was big—bigger than Michael and your other ex's. Eddie watched the way your lips clung to him as he pulled back, leaving only the crown of his cock nestled in your tight walls, and he moaned as you sucked in each inch of him when he snapped his hips forward. It felt like he was carving his way into your guts, rearranging your organs, or hitting the back of your throat. Maybe that was over dramatic; you were cock-drunk and delusional already. Maybe it was just the intensity with which you wanted him to act that made you irrational.

All that you knew for certain was that he was here, and he was fucking you, and you never wanted him to stop. You were crying, the tears having finally fallen, and you couldn’t stop shaking as lava pooled in your stomach. Eddie grabbed you by the chin, his thumb and forefinger pressing into your cheeks, so that you were pouting when he kissed her again. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

Your eyes snapped open. When did you close them? You didn't know.

"This is what you needed, huh? You just needed a cock inside you—someone to fuck the attitude out of you. You're just a cockwhore, aren't you, baby?" His voice was rough as he growled the words through his teeth. He was hovering over you, hands on the mattress either side of your head, trapping you in the shelter of his body. You cried out when he made a particularly deep thrust; his aim never faltered. He found that spot that made galaxies come to life and made your thighs tremble around his slim waist.

"Answer me!" He repeated it louder this time.

"Yes!" You wailed. You felt racked with pleasure when he put a hand on your tit, palming it roughly and pinching your nipple to bring your attention to him. "Yes, yes, I'm a whore, just a cockwhore—of god, right there, right there."

"Whose whore?"

"Eddie, Eddie, please, need to cum—"

"You wanna cum?"

"Yes, yes, please." He was holding you at the edge of the world, leaving you staring into the abyss. You were buzzing with excitement, entirely ready and willing to take a leap of faith with him. You needed to free-fall; you needed to float through the clouds, and he wasn't letting you. Not yet. Not until you gave him what he wanted.

"Then tell me whose whore you are."

"Yours! Your whore! Just yours!"

Now that you'd given him what he wanted, he fucked you harder, impossibly so. The sound of his pelvis hitting the backs of your thighs was a constant smack, smack, smack. The headboard hit the wall with a resounding thud, thud, thud. The neighbours would surely complain, but you don't care because he's going to break you, ruin you, and wreck you.

The knot in your stomach unrolled quickly and all at once. A fresh wave of rapture raced through you like lightening arching through your veins, leaving you staring at the roof with wide-open eyes that took in nothing that they saw. Your back bowed into a perfect arch as you came harder than you thought was ever possible—even harder than you had the first time he'd watched you touch yourself.

Eddie buried his face against your neck, his abdomen dipping in and out as he chased his own release, his breath superheated against your skin while he panted. He was lost in you—the smell of your shampoo, the taste of your chapstick—utterly and hopelessly lost. Eddie came only a moment later, long and hard, painting thick ivory ropes along your quivering walls.

"So fucking good, baby. Pussy was made for me." He rambled between kisses, licks, and bites along your neck. Your nails scratched down his back as you preened beneath his praise, your mind somewhere in the clouds, no higher, in the thermosphere. "You're squeezing me like a damn vice. Fuck, you're perfect. I would burn the world for you. You're mine, aren't you, baby? My desperate whore. All mine."

Eddie kept you pinned to the mattress, legs still thrown over his shoulders as he huddled over you, almost folding you in half. He grabbed you roughly by the chin, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were unfocused, and your face was streaked with tears. He felt your pussy still fluttering around his softening cock as you rode the coattails of your orgasm, each aftershock making you twitch and shake. He kissed you hard until you were breathless. You mewled into his mouth and pawed at him.

And you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were his.