#fire type pan

[pridewishes]

♔ || FIRE TYPE MIKU ICONS

250x250 || fire type flags || bordered circle

like / rb + credit + read dni if using

requested by anon !!

[yharnam-is-a-fuck]

darkest dungeon two is kicking my ass so hard i genuinely took a "relaxing break" to play Dead by Daylight instead

[reestallized]

No fucking way Crispin

[apostleoforder]

i had a dream that i was playing a modded fire emblem game where everything was normal EXCEPT that anna would look at the camera if she was on-screen for at least two seconds

it was so funny that by the time i regained full consciousness i was already stifling my laughter

[fandom-r]

just almost burned my house down ✌️

[amplexadversary]

Are there any pokemon that are heavily associated with (the act of) cooking outside of the pan-trio and farfetch'd? As nuts as I am about Pokemon, I can't recall any.

Admittedly I'm pretty much games-exclusive, since I did NOT have access to much of the anime growing up.

[aconstantallegory]

i'm trying to think up reasons as to possibly why my brain keeps chugging out People that have nothing to do with anything????????

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 6: Where…?

The first thing out of your mouth when you wake is a low, discontent groan as your hands fist the blankets around you. Your head and eyes throb. For a good several minutes, you remain completely still - no motivation to move from your semi-comfortable position. You really can’t drink like you used to, huh?

Eventually you work up the courage to crack your eyes open. At least the curtains are closed. The room takes a minute to focus, and the first thing you notice are the incorrectly colored sheets - lacking the usual floral print. You frown, grunting as you sit up. The second thing you notice is the t-shirt and sweatpants you’re currently wearing - not yours and easily a couple sizes too big. They have to belong to someone wide and tall to not be fitted on you. You don’t remember going home with anyone…

You take a moment to look around. It’s a decently sized room with minimal decor. A few art prints line the walls and the closet is in perfect order - separated by type and color. Though, most of it appears to be black. The bed is huge. Tall, too, you realize as you slowly slip your way out of it, nearly tripping on the long fabric of the sweatpants you’ve been dressed in. Glancing at yourself in the small mirror on the wall, you realize your makeup is gone and your hair is braided. There’s a dark wooden dresser and a matching desk with a laptop and sketchbook neatly placed on top. You wander over nosily, squinting down at the book. Oh shit! Oh shit, that’s Simon’s sketchbook. You’d recognize that collection of skull pattered stickers anywhere.

The sound of clinking pans and the scent of bacon slowly registers. Did… did you somehow end up going home with him? There’s no way, right? You remember asking him to dance, you remember him being surprisingly good and… and… that’s about it. On top of the dresser is your outfit from the night before, neatly folded with your bra tucked underneath. Your face heats and you cover your chest.

After a quick self inspection (and a nervous check for condoms in the trash) you decide you’re pretty sure you didn’t fuck anyone. Probably. Hopefully. What happens if you did? Would Simon tell John? Should you tell John? Will it make things awkward? Will he fire you? Oh, you really don’t want to lose this job. It’s the best you’ve ever had and you really, truly love all your boys so much. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes both to soothe the ache in them and to bite back tears.

You’ve always been such a stupid girl.

After giving yourself a few minutes to sit on the bed and properly freak out, flapping your hands in an attempt to get that nervous energy out of your system, you decide it’s time to face the music.

You slip your bralette back on before slowly cracking open the bedroom door. The short hall is mostly shadowed, lights off and the sun drifting in from what you assume is the living room. The door across from you is closed and to your left is a rather nice, spotless bathroom.

You peak your head out into the living room. It’s large and open, flowing into the kitchen as hardwood becomes tile and an island with stools between the two. Simon is the source of the clinking, apparently, moving around the stove like it’s second nature. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised he can cook - he’s a grown man - but there’s something about the way he arranges the plates, the from-scratch ingredients, that tells you he does actively enjoys it.

It’s cute.

Johnny and Kyle sit on a well loved couch just a few feet from you, both focused on some TV show you don’t recognize. A slow frown forms on your face, turning into shock as the door beside you opens. You nearly jump out of your skin as John appears beside you in a robe and plaid pajama pants.

A soft smile splits his face. “Mornin’, dove.”

“Och, she’s awake!” Johnny grins, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as he turns to face you.

You blink dumbly, head pounding and gut churning as you step closer to stand beside the couch. Without thinking you blurt, “You all… live together?”

“Course.” Kyle pipes up, looking at you as well. As if you were supposed to have known that already.

You melt to the floor in a hungover heap. “Oh, thank god!”

Johnny laughs. “Why thank god?”

“I was so scared I did something stupid…” Your voice cracks as you press your cheek to the cool hardwood. You didn’t fuck anyone, you didn’t embarrass yourself, you were simply taken care of. The relief alone almost makes you want to cry. Though, that’s probably the hangover more than anything.

“Oh, love.” Kyle reaches down to soothe a hand over your hair. “We wouldn’t have done anything like that, yeah?”

You nod.

“Sorry it scared you.” John murmurs, crouching to set a mug of coffee on the floor beside your head. “We didn’t feel comfortable sendin’ y’home alone.”

You nod again, slowly pushing yourself up to grab the mug. The bitter taste of black coffee makes you cringe, but it wakes your system up and seems to push your hangover down to a tolerable level.

“I should go home…” You sigh, not moving a single muscle off the floor where you currently sit.

“Not before you eat somethin’.” Simon calls from the kitchen.

You take the opportunity to look around the living room. The sun has been mostly blocked out by barely cracked curtains. There’s a little bit of each of them in it - artwork scattered across the walls. A few photos - one of John and Simon that looks like the opening of the shop. The leather pride flag sticker stuck on what looks like a toolbox doesn’t escape your notice. Probably John’s. You’ve never seen another man with such well cared for boots and leather coats. Maybe that’s assumptive. There’s a game boy and a PS5 behind the 4K television. Your eyes follow the rather extensive sound system to a massive CD organizer. There’s a short hall on the opposite side of the apartment where you assume the other two rooms are. Everything is so… homey. Comfortable.

“Wait, who’s clothes are these?” You ask suddenly, staring down at the oversized t-shirt and tightly tied sweatpants that pool at your feet awkwardly.

“Mine.” Simon shrugs, setting a plate on the coffee table for you before handing two more off to Johnny and Kyle.

“Comfy.” You hum, eyes zeroing in on the large breakfast in front of you - plate piled high with bacon, sausage, and waffles.

“Ye can sit up here wit’ us.” Johnny pats the empty couch beside him.

You think for a moment before shaking your still aching head. “Don’t think I should stand up yet.”

The food is even better than it looks. For a Brit Simon actually knows how to handle his flavors.

You groan as a particular rough throb stabs at your temple. “I don’t remember drinking enough to be this hungover…”

“Johnny can be very convincing.” Simon rumbles, stabbing a piece of sausage.

“What do you remember?” Kyle leans forward a bit to reach for his coffee.

You shrug. “I remember dancing. That’s kind of where it stops.”

“At least you got to skip the part of the night where Johnny starts rantin’ about chemistry math.” Kyle rolls his eyes.

“Och! Ye love my chemistry talk! It’s the structure of the universe! It’s-“

“Yap yap yap.” Kyle opens and closes his hand in a mocking ‘blah blah blah’ motion.

Kyle helps Simon clean up. You try to insist to let you help as well, but they won’t hear of it. John offers to let you stay the day and sleep off your hangover but you shake your head, wanting nothing more than to take a burning hot shower in your own bathroom - as fun as hanging around with them all day sounds. So, you slip into Simon’s room to change back into your own clothes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kyle rest a hand on Simon’s lower back. A light touch, but solid. You don’t have the wherewithal to think about it.

You peel off Simon’s clothes and put yours back on with a wrinkled nose. There’s something so gross about it, not that you’re clean right now anyway. Thank god you had the foresight to not wear underwire. You order yourself a car on your mostly dead phone as you wander back out to the living room. Your skirt suddenly feels far too exposing for the daylight.

You chew your lip. “My driver’s five minutes out… so, I’ll see you guys Wednesday?”

“I’ll walk you down.” John grunts, pulling himself up out of the arm chair.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” You pause when he gives you that look you’ve come to recognize as ‘don’t argue, I’m doing it anyway.’

You give a round of goodbyes to the others who make no movement to get off the couch, fully sunken in. Johnny has sprawled over the L part of the couch with an arm over his eyes and a water bottle in hand.

“Thanks for letting me stay over. Sorry if I got too, uh, sloppy or whatever.” You murmur as the elevator makes for the lobby.

John chuckles. “No more than Johnny ever does. I’m glad you came. Lookin’ forward to the next one.”

You heart skips as you nod. “Me too.”

John leans forward just as your driver pulls up, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. Your back stiffens and your stomach flutters - face hot as he pulls away.

“See you at the shop.” He nods, sauntering back into the building like he didn’t just give you a heart attack.

Bonus:

“No, ye need an oil cleanser first.” Johnny slurs. “Tha’s how ye get the - hic - the makeup off.”

“Don’t act like I didn’t teach you everythin’ you know about skin care y’muppet.” Kyle snipes back as he digs through the drawers under the counter.

“Workin’ on yer John impersonation, I see.” Johnny snickers. Kyle bats at his arm.

You just giggle, seated on the toilet in Kyle and Johnny’s shared bathroom and swaying back and forth. Simon leans in the doorway, watching as the two drunkenly try to help you get your makeup off. All three of you bursting out into another fit of giggles when Kyle squeezes your round cheeks to make a fish face. It occurs to him that he’s never seen you bare faced. None of them have. Not that you come in everyday with a full beat but even so, there’s something intimate about it. To him, at least. Something about you perched in their apartment, in his clothes, having Johnny smudge moisturizer over your face while Kyle braids your hair to keep it from tangling overnight.

The three of you fit together so well…

John puts on a stupid action movie. Something to distract everyone as you wind down and sober up before bed. You snuggle up to Johnny, unsurprisingly, tucking yourself under his arm with your head on his chest. He’s practically Pavlov’d you into constantly touching each other. Just like he did with the rest of them. He jumps a bit when you press your socked feet to his thigh, humming comfortably. There’s a stupid grin plastered across your face.

“Alright, off to bed with you.” John chuckles as you snore comfortably on Johnny’s chest. The Scot is equally asleep, your chests rising and falling in an asynchronous rhythm. John loops his arms under your back and knees, just as strong as he’s always been, carefully cradling you against his chest as he takes you to Simon’s room.

Simon follows, glancing sideways at your clothes in his dresser. You groan as John lowers you but don’t wake up - well and truly passed out.

Simon pauses for a moment before following John out, staring down at you. He’s no better than the others, the alcohol numbing his inhibitions. So, he reaches down, and swipes a thumb over your slightly parted lips. Just as soft as he thought…

He settles into John’s bed, the frame creaking under their combined weight. Neither of them are particularly slight, after all.

“Glad y’danced tonight.” John mutters, reaching over to turn off his lamp.

Simon just grunts.

“She’s good for you.”

“She’s good for us.” He blurts, immediately wanting to shove the words back down his throat.

To his surprise, John just nods, turning to sling an arm over Simon’s waist. “She is.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for enjoying this series with me, it means a ton! I’m sorry I’m not very good at responding to replies/asks but I really do love and appreciate you all!

Hope you’re pumped for the next part bc I am

[sweetreveriee]

WILDFIRE AID RESOURCES MASTERLIST

these are all the places ive found helping those affected by the la fires. please stay safe everyone <3

______________________

FREE THINGS:

Planet Fitness Offers Free Things (ends January 15)

Form To Get Free Temporary Housing From AirBnB (space limited, eligibility criteria required)

List of Restaurants Offering Free Meals (updated January 9)

______________________

UPDATED MAPS:

CalFire

Watch Duty

______________________

INFORMATION:

List of Updated Info

Spreadsheet of Resources (by location and type of aid)

If you have anything to add to the list linked above, comment here

______________________

SHELTER:

If you need shelter, text "SHELTER" and your zip code to 43362 for nearest open shelters

open shelters:

Arcadia Community Center – 375 Campus Drive, Arcadia, CA 91007

Ritchie Valens Recreation Center – 10736 Laurel Canyon Blvd., Pacoima, CA 91331

Pan Pacific Recreational Center – 7600 Beverly Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90036

Westwood Recreation Center – 1350 Sepulveda Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90025

El Camino Real Charter High School – 5440 Valley Circle Blvd, Woodland Hills, CA 91367

Pasadena Civic Center – 300 East Green Street, Pasadena, CA 91101

Pomona Fairplex – 1101 W McKinley Ave, Pomona, CA 91768

YMCA of Metropolitan Los Angeles - locations unaffected by fire are open and providing free childcare to those who need it. also offering evacuation sites, temporary shelter, basic amenities, and showers.

for updates and locations click here

______________________

TRANSPORTATION:

CalTrans Updated Road Closure List

Fare collection suspended at Metro through January 9. A list of updates and changes that occurred because of the fires and winds can be found here.

Lyft is offering two free rides of 25$ each (50$ total) for 500 riders using code CAFIRERELIEF25. offer ends January 15.

Uber is offering a free ride of up to 40$ for those who use code WILFIRE25 in the wallet section of the app

______________________

ANIMAL CARE:

List of Shelters (check capacity and availability)

______________________

MENTAL HEALTH:

LA County set up a 24/7 hotline to help with anxiety, distress, and grief. Call (800) 854-7771.

______________________

WHAT TO PACK:

remember the six p's:

people and pets

papers, phone numbers and important documents

prescriptions, vitamins, and eyeglasses

pictures and irreplaceable memorabilia

personal computer, hard drive, and disks

plastic (debit, credit, ATM cards) and cash

what to put in your "go bag":

face masks/face coverings

three-day food supply (nonperishable)

three gallons of bottled water per person

map marked with AT LEAST two evacuation routes

basic first aid and medical supplies

sanitation supplies

toothbrushes, toothpaste, hair brush, deodorant

period products

prescriptions and medications

a change of clothes (bring AT LEAST one warm coat)

spare eyeglasses or contacts (if needed)

extra set of car keys

chargers for your devices

cash, credit/debit cards, traveler's checks

flashlight

battery powered radio

EXTRA BATTERIES

(copies of) important documents such as birth certificates, passports, insurance, a list of emergency contacts and phone numbers

your wallet (ID CARD)

food, water, and meds for your pets (checklist here)

a can opener

not necessary but you might want to bring:

valuable items that can be easily carried

family pictures that cannot be replaced

blankets

more than a day's worth of clothes

important school supplies (for students)

books

trophies, medals, certificates, awards

pens and paper

self defense tools (pepper spray, pocket knives, etc) (NOT ENCOURAGING VIOLENCE. FOR SELF DEFENSE ONLY)

extra shoes

fuzzy socks

non-essential hygiene products

gum/breath mints

ALWAYS PREPARE BEFOREHAND. EVEN IF YOU ARE NOT DIRECTLY IMPACTED, THE FIRES CAN GROW. KEEP YOUR BAGS IN THE CAR SO YOU CAN EVACUATE QUICKLY IF NEEDED.

______________________

WANT TO HELP?

Best Friends Animal Society

LA Fire Department (donations sent directly to first responders)

LA Food Bank

LA Works

MusiCares

Salvation Army

Santa D'Or (in need of fosters for displaced cats)

Silverlake Lounge (also offering a communal gathering place)

Sweet Relief Musicians Fund

Dream Center (in need of volunteers + non-perishable food items)

The Red Cross

We Are Moving the Needle

World Central Kitchen

United Way of Greater LA

As of January 9, the Westwood Recreation Center and Pan Pacific Park are at full capacity and not accepting additional donations. Check with all organizations by phone, text, or email before donating if possible.

______________________

IF THERE'S ANYTHING I MISSED OR MESSED UP PLEASE ADD IT OR LET ME KNOW SO I CAN FIX IT. REBLOG TO SPREAD AWARENESS!!!!!!!! stay safe everyone

[holyblonded]

team dinner | stargirl

pairings: barcelona femeni x teen!reader

summary: you decide to make the whole team dinner

warnings: fire.

notes: this was so fun to write 😭

“I’m scared, Mami,” Alexia whispered to her mother fearfully as her leg bounced a hundred miles an hour. “My life is at risk.”

“Alexia,” Eli scolded. “You are so dramatic. my Estrelleta will be a wonderful cook!”

“Do you believe that?” Alexia cocked an eyebrow up.

“Yes. Now go monitor her before she sets herself on fire.” Eli responded.

“Mami-“

“Goodbye Alexia. I love you,” Eli said, hanging up before Alexia could even respond.

Alexia stared at her phone in disbelief, her mother’s words still ringing in her ears.

“Monitor her before she sets herself on fire.”

She let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose before reluctantly pushing herself off the couch. This was not how she imagined spending her evening. Maybe a nice, peaceful dinner, sure. Maybe even indulging in a glass of wine. But instead, she was walking into what could very well be her final moments. Because you were cooking. And that was a problem.

With heavy steps, Alexia made her way to the kitchen, her heart pounding in anticipation. The second she stepped inside, she was met with the immediate and overwhelming smell of something… burnt? Maybe melted? Possibly toxic? It was impossible to tell, but one thing was certain, her instincts were correct.

You stood at the stove, a look of deep concentration on your face as you poked at something in a pan. Something that looked less like food and more like an unfortunate science experiment gone wrong. There was flour on the counter, an uncracked egg somehow rolling toward the edge, and a suspicious amount of steam rising from a pot on the other burner. And the worst part? You were wearing AirPods.

Alexia’s eyes widened in sheer panic. “Estrelleta!”

You jumped, nearly knocking the pan off the stove as you yanked out one AirPod. “Mierda! You scared me!”

“I scared you?” Alexia marched forward, turning off the burner before the situation could escalate. “Are you trying to gas us all in here? What is this? What are you even making?”

“It’s a surprise,” you grinned proudly.

Alexia looked at the chaos surrounding them. “Oh, I’m sure it is.”

Before Alexia could ask any more questions, something inside the oven started making a violent sizzling noise. Your eyes flickered over to it before you waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, that’s normal.”

“That’s not normal.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “Open it.”

Your confidence wavered just slightly. “You don’t trust me?”

“I trust you on the pitch,” Alexia stated firmly. “I do not trust you in the kitchen. Open it.”

With an exaggerated groan, you grabbed an oven mitt, muttering about how no one had faith in your culinary skills. You pulled open the oven door only for a thick cloud of smoke to immediately burst out, swallowing the both of them in a fog of doom.

Alexia coughed violently, waving her hand in front of her face. “Estrelleta!”

“Okay, that might be a little concerning,” you admitted, stepping back.

Alexia rushed to open a window while you fanned the smoke with a towel.

“You’re going to kill us both,” Alexia wheezed, eyes watering.

“Oh, stop being dramatic. This is just a minor setback.”

Alexia turned, staring at her incredulously. “Minor setback? Estrelleta, we are one step away from the fire alarm going off and the neighbors thinking this is an emergency.”

“Good thing it’s not an emergency then,” you grinned.

Alexia let out a long, exhausted sigh. “Mami lied to me.”

“What?”

Alexia pulled out her phone and dramatically typed out a text to Eli:

“You told me to monitor her. You should have told me to evacuate.”

You gasped, scandalized. “You’re reporting me to my avi?”

“Yes.”

“You are such a snitch!”

“I am saving lives! Our lives!” Alexia fired back.

You groaned, grabbing your pan again. “You have no faith in me. None at all. And you know what? I’m going to prove you wrong.”

Alexia eyed the burnt contents in the pan. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” you huffed. “By the end of this night, you’re going to eat the best meal of your life.”

Alexia sighed, already accepting her fate. “I should have just ordered takeout.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.”

Alexia pinched the bridge of her nose once more. She knew it was going to be a long night.

Deep down, Alexia had hope. Foolish. Misplaced. Hope. Hope that was shattered into a million pieces the moment the rest of the Barcelona squad walked in.

“What the hell is that smell?” Patri blurted out as she stepped inside, her face scrunching up like she had just walked into a landfill.

“I don’t know,” Ingrid muttered, cautiously sniffing the air. “But it’s… strong.”

“It’s Estrella’s cooking,” Alexia said, her tone flat, as if announcing a national disaster. The silence that followed was one of pure horror.

“I see,” Ingrid finally said, taking a step back. “So this is a hazardous environment.”

Lucy’s eyes immediately locked onto the stove. “Do I need to get the fire extinguisher?”

“No!” you huffed, stirring whatever monstrosity was in your pan. “Everything is fine. Totally under control.”

“That’s exactly what people say before things explode,” Pina mumbled.

“What are you even making?” Jana asked, stepping around the counter to get a closer look.

You beamed, grinning with full confidence. “Dinner.” A long, horrified silence stretched across the room.

“Dinner,” Lucy repeated slowly, as if trying to process the weight of that word.

“Yes,” you said proudly.

Patri swallowed nervously. “And… who’s eating it?”

“You all are!”

Another silence.

Alexia massaged her temples. “I should’ve left when I had the chance.”

For the next thirty minutes, the squad gathered around like scientists observing an unprecedented catastrophe in real time. You were fully in your element, whisking, chopping, tossing random ingredients into pans with zero logic or reasoning.

Jana kept peering over your shoulder, visibly horrified. “Is that supposed to look like that?”

“Yes,” you said, lying effortlessly.

Lucy whispered to Patri, “That’s not supposed to look like that.”

Patri nodded grimly. “We’re in danger.”

Meanwhile, Ingrid had taken on the role of an investigator, pointing at a bowl of something questionably slimy. “And what’s that supposed to be?”

“A surprise,” you answered, stirring it proudly.

Alexia just stood there, watching her life flash before her eyes. You turned away for one second. And that’s all it took.

A small but very real fire erupted on the stovetop.

“Oh, shit.”

“OH, SHIT.”

Ona ducked. Jana ran in circles. Alexia almost passed out.

Lucy activated full firefighter mode. Without a second of hesitation, she grabbed the fire extinguisher, ripped the cap off, and blasted the stove into oblivion.

“TARGET NEUTRALIZED!” she shouted triumphantly, standing in the middle of the smoke-filled kitchen like a damn hero.

Everyone just stared at her.

Then, slowly, Ona started clapping with Patri joining in.

Ingrid nodded solemnly. “Lucy Bronze, footballer and fire safety specialist.”

You, meanwhile, waved off the smoke with a towel and huffed. “You’re all being dramatic. It was just a tiny flame.”

Alexia whipped around. “Estrella, you started a fire.”

“Just a baby fire.”

“Small flames turn into big flames,” Lucy scolded. “Lesson of the day.”

After the trauma of the mini fire, everyone somehow managed to sit down at the dining table, staring at the plates of unidentifiable food in front of them.

It was… disturbing. Something was grey, which food should never be. Something else moved, which was even worse.

Alexia, as the reluctant leader, took the first bite. The way her entire soul left her body did not go unnoticed.

Patri gulped. Ona stared at her plate like it had personally offended her. Ingrid blinked twice, then once more, just to make sure she was still alive. But for your sake, they all pretended it was fine.

Jana gave you a thumbs up while chewing in agony. Patri nodded while blinking SOS in Morse code.

Lucy straight up pushed her plate toward Ingrid. “Nah. I’m not dying today.”

Vicky broke first. At first, just a snicker. Then a full-blown cackle.

Your lips twitched up in a smile before you corrected yourself with a frown. “What’s so funny?”

Through gasping breaths, Vicky finally managed to say, “It’s a prank. She actually knows how to cook. You are so full of it, man.”

“ESTRELLA.”

Alexia pushed back her chair, hands on her hips, eyes wild with betrayal.

“You mean to tell me,” she began, her left eye twitching, “that I have spent this entire night mentally preparing to die, for nothing?”

You grinned. “Yep!”

Patri groaned. “I literally called my mom to tell her I love her.”

Jana was shaking her head. “I was drafting my will.”

Ingrid, still looking traumatized, exhaled heavily. “I have never been more stressed in my life.”

Lucy, however, nodded, impressed. “Honestly? Respect.”

You beamed and shook her outstretched hand. “Thank you.”

Alexia sighed, burying her face in her hands. “I hate you.”

“I love you too, Ale.”

In the end, Alexia ordered pizza while you sat back, grinning in triumph.

“You have to admit,” you nudged Alexia playfully, “that was a good prank.”

Alexia didn’t even look at you. “I’m blocking your number.”

[mywritersmind]

SAVIOR - LN4

summary : When y/n’s absent neighbor shows up, causing her great annoyance with smoke and repetitive beeping, she marches over to tell the man off but is met with a handsome face and strong hands that are in distress.

listen up : no warnings!! lando’s hands>>

word count : 631

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The sound won’t fucking stop.

I hadn't been worried before, just sitting back with my ice cream and gossip girl, until I smelt the smoke.

I groan, yeah sure there may be a fire but nothing is more important than the thanksgiving episode! I pull in a baggy off the shoulder shirt to cover my bra and walk out into the hall.

I slam my knuckle against the door. Who the fuck bakes at this time of night? I knock again and within seconds I hear feet pattering against the floor before the door clicks open.

I don’t mean to look surprised.

But when a hot man opens the door when I was expecting an old rich guy with a mistress, I raise a brow, “I’m so sorry!” He says quickly. There are oven mitts on his hands and I almost laugh because he looks like a cartoon character in distress.

“Are you okay?”

He is not, indeed, okay. As his body turns, I realize his kitchen is filling with smoke and something is still beeping. “I am so sorry!” He repeats again as I walk in.

I open the windows first, idiot. Then while coughing, I fiddle with the oven to make it shut up. I hear him audibly sigh behind me.

“You’re saving me here.” his smooth accent cuts through the burning smell.

I stand, “From a fire, yeah. Don’t really want my apartment building to burn down.” I shrug and take the mits right off his hands, placing them on my own and opening the smoke filled compartment.

I swat the air and hurriedly take out the pan. When I place it down on the counter, I laugh.

“I’m not a good baker, I know!” He crosses his arms.

“Cupcakes?” I smile, the smoke slowly leaving through the windows, “You don’t seem like the type. Especially at half past one.”

He shrugs and I finally take him in, with dark curls and stunning eyes, he’s got a familiar face. He's in pajamas of sorts, with bright orange slippers.

“Couldn’t pick a dinner option honestly…” He glances at the burnt baked goods, “I really appreciate it… I’d offer you something but- I don’t want to poison you.”

I smile and he looks proud that he made me do anything that’s not coughing, “Not a problem.”

A second passes before he speaks up, “I haven’t seen you around.” He says as I take the mits from my hands.

“Probably because you’re never around…?” It’s true. I love living on this floor because my neighbor is barely ever in. It is a bit strange now that I think about it.

He laughs, “Right. My work, and all…” okay mafia boss energy. Though his kind face and wall decor tells me differently.

I nod awkwardly, “Well… if you don’t need any more saving, I'm gonna go.”

“Of course! Thanks again. And if you ever need anything I'm here- I mean… I do owe you now.” I hand him the mits and as he grabs it my eyes stray to his hands.

Christ he’s fit. How have I never seen him before?

I look away from the veins and smile politely, “See you around…” I don’t know his name.

“Lando.” He smiles and the way his eyes meet mine makes my knees go soft.

“Y/n.” He shakes my hand, quite sternly might I add.

“Well Y/n… pleasure having you in my apartment and saving us from an evacuation.” He opens the door for me.

“Stay safe, Lando.” he winks.

NOTE : don’t forget that my requests are open!!

[thinemoonshine]

⋆𐙚₊ 𝓹𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 (𝓻𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜)˚⊹♡

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ when platonic becomes romantic

bestfriend!enhypen hyung line x fem reader content(s): fluff, enhypen being down bad, hints of yearning, reader's oblivious, jay malfunctions, bit suggestive in jake's, sunghoon's already thinking wedding vows type: imagine

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆

it’s weird. they’ve always been touchy with one another. sure, it may not be to the point of clingy but touchy enough that hand-holding and cuddling are normal in their friendship.

so why is it that heeseung feels so shy and flustered with (y/n)’s simple affection now?

her fingers pinch his chin softly as she gently tends his small cut with a cotton swab. their faces close but far enough so heeseung can comfortably admire her features while she stands between his spread knees.

“it’s not deep enough so it shouldn’t leave too much of a scar,” she says calmly—too casually for heeseung who’s literally having trouble making a single coherent thought without thinking about their proximity.

he swallows and it only makes his throat feel drier. “you sure?”

(y/n) lifts her gaze to see his round, bambi eyes searching hers for reassurance and she chuckles. “don’t worry, hee. you’ll still be handsome.”

still? he echoes internally. she thinks i’m handsome.

the thought itself is dumb considering how she’s never held back her admiration for his looks but for some reason, it was clearer to him this time, significant.

her hand shifts to cup his cheek and he fights himself from practically melting into her touch with his fists clenching by his side.

but his will is weaker than he thought.

(y/n)’s brows raise when he leans into her palm with eyes shutting while his own arms wrap around her waist to pull her in. “hee?”

the way that everyday nickname fell from her lips has his heart lurching and ears ringing, desperate for her to say it again.

“i like it when you say my name,” he murmurs into her shoulder and she’s silenced, flustered and confused, even more so when she can literally feel him jolting ever so slightly from his rapid, passionate heartbeat.

(y/n) slowly reciprocates the touch—her arms moving to encircle his slim waist and he sighs at the warmth that envelopes.

“is there something going on?” she asks, unsure of what transpired for her bestfriend to act so intimate all of a sudden but all heeseung does is shake his head—sneakily burying his nose into the crook of it and breathing her in.

“i just want you here,” he confesses, warm breath heating her skin as he subtly stamps little pecks before having to bite his own tongue to hold back from pressing a long, lasting kiss.

oh, if only he could.

heeseung smiles as he lifts a hand to cradle the back of her head, combing through her hair as his lips pull to a grin.

well, no one said he couldn’t.

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆

it should be casual. a norm. a routine, even, to have (y/n) clinging onto his back as he cooks. it’s what she always does whenever he makes their meals—her ‘contribution’ she says, since jay won’t let her do anything.

and he doesn’t mind. he welcomes it, in fact. but something about today, makes it a lot harder for him to focus on his cooking with her wrapped around him.

“i thought you wanted them diced,” (y/n) reminds when jay was about to shove in the messily sliced carrots into a pot of hazardously seasoned soup(he’s pretty sure he poured in sugar instead of salt).

jay blinks rapidly, frantic, as he laid down the cutting board again and starts dicing… if cutting them in criss-crossed shapes into atoms is another method of it. “y-yeah. i did.”

but it doesn’t stop there.

“jay, that’s not salt.”

“black pepper, not white.”

“that fire’s too high!”

jay’s a second away from giving himself a concussion with the frying pan and even then, he grabbed the ladle instead.

"is something wrong?" his bestfriend asks when she turns him around and the way her fingers ghost over his waist makes him shudder.

he shakes his head with his signature smirk-ish smile before clearing his throat. “nothing. just thinking about some stuff.”

his hand lands on her crown and rests there for a moment before he pats gently. then he turns back around to cook, scoffing in amusement at the skeptical hum from the girl clinging onto his back.

“i’ll make you talk one way or another,” she threatens and jay’s about to toss a witty remark but he’s cut by a gasp when her palms drag up to his chest—heart going overdrive and nearly bursting through until her grip curls around his neck. “tell me!”

he’s shaken back and forth by the throat and it works in distracting him from blasting off through the roof like a rocket. exaggerated laughter escapes him as he tries to pretend everything’s fine before he gently holds her wrists and pulls them away—spinning to face her with a bright grin on his ruddy face.

“if you keep this up, i might not be able to get this done,” he chides but with a playful undertone as he clicks his tongue with a sharp inhale. his eyes sharpen to squint ‘menacingly’ and the girl mirrors.

“fine. i’ll relent,” she shrugs and pulls her arms back but just when jay thinks she’ll leave, she reaches to gently stroke his throat and that has his eyes widening and breaths hitching. “sorry, was i too rough?”

his gears are frozen and ears muffled from the pounding, passionate beats of his heart. “i—uh, no! not at all.”

and when her eyes lift to meet his, he nearly buckles at the knees—having to reach behind and grip the edge of the counter until his knuckles turn white to keep himself up.

there’s a pregnant pause between them and with every second, jay’s mind is unraveling little by little.

“i knew it,” she scoffs and for a moment, he thinks it’s over for him. (y/n)’s gonna see through him and she’s gonna leave him and—

“i’ll use a rope next time. thanks for the advice!” she chirps and spins before skipping out the kitchen, leaving him dumbfounded and speechless.

the moment she’s out, he crashes against the counter behind him—skin flushed to his ears and neck and eyes wide as saucers as his hand cups the lower half of his face in disbelief.

oh, he’s done for.

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆

jake thinks there’s no such thing as a friendship touchier, sweeter and cheesier than his with (y/n). it’s their love language: physical touch. even if it’s as small as poking or as big as a whole cuddle session, they’re all a portrayal of their perfectly platonic affections.

they’ve even kissed each other’s cheeks for goodbyes and caused confusion all around whether they were dating or not. of course, they’d always deny it—saying that that’s one of the perks from being friends for so long. nothing affects them anymore since they’ve seen nearly everything of each other.

but now, from the way jake’s breaking a sweat and losing his breaths as he cuddles with (y/n) for another one of their movie marathon nights, he’s not sure he can live up to that belief.

he’s trying his hardest to calm his nerves, scared that she’s going to be able to feel his racing heart or notice his shaky breaths.

it’s like he’s suddenly conscious of everything.

the way her hands feel against him, the softness of her figure compared to his solid body, her sweet warmth that seeps into his pores as he holds her close and the way she whines and grunts unconsciously whenever he shifts like she hates to be apart.

everything, every single thing about her is driving him crazy and the fact that she’s literally using him as a human mattress and plushie isn’t helping.

of all days, did (y/n) have to fall asleep on him today—when he can’t make sense of his feelings??

he gulps thickly as his pretty, slender fingers hover her back before ultimately combing through her locks as she slumbers.

slowly, cautiously, undoing the knots and tidying stray strands as he does breathing exercises to calm himself down. but when she groans a complaint of him “being too loud,” he realizes maybe he’s been hyperventilating instead.

he clears his throat as he slowly tries to sit up. it’s a custom between them. when one of them falls asleep mid movie marathon, they’d take care of one another—(y/n) would put a blanket over him and fix his pillow while jake usually tucks her to bed.

but with how much he’s trembling, he might not be able to today.

“(y/n),” he starts softly, just wanting to stir her enough so she’d at least free his legs from being all tangled up with hers but she only nuzzles further—face now buried in the crook of his neck with her lips brushing his skin.

BOOM!

he thinks his heart just exploded.

jake’s overheating, red all over with fingers twitching as he bites the back of his hand to quieten the soft sounds threatening to escape. it’s all too much yet too little, so near yet so far. she’s fogging up all his senses and he can barely even think.

his hand patting her back is near robotic now as he stares at the ceiling blankly, like every single thought he conjures fizzles up and leaves his brain completely empty as he battles with himself from scooping her up and kissing her right then and there.

wait, what?

he chokes on a breath and coughs violently—forcing (y/n) awake and he panics. with eyes wide, he quickly wraps his arms around her, hushing and lulling her back to sleep, guilty for even waking her up while at the same time hiding his face into her hair.

“sorry! sorry, i woke you just—just go back to sleep,” he coos as he cradles her form in his lap and stands to lift her up to bed—only to be stopped when she rubs her face against his chest with a small protest.

“stay…” she slurs sleepily and it’s like a love arrow struck him in the heart as he drops back onto the couch, breathless and awestruck. he looks down at her who’s back to snoring and sleeping, oblivious to the frazzled, flustered state of jake sim who presses a long, lasting kiss onto her forehead in place of her lips.

would it be too weird to buy a diamond ring as a friendship item?

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆

sunghoon isn’t as nonchalant as he aims to be. but people think he is. with his gentle yet distant disposition and random silly little antics, he’s a living contradiction. a man of mystery. and it’s difficult to understand him at times, hard to reach.

especially when he doesn’t bother to since he has someone he sticks to every breathing moment of his day: (y/n). even now, on a sweet, sunny saturday, sunghoon’s sitting on the sofa of her living room as she meticulously puts pretty clips on his fluffy, raven hair.

they just came back from a shopping spree and she bought some cute butterfly clips that apparently flap their wings when the wearer moves or wind blows. it’s up to (y/n) to test that hypothesis herself.

“last one,” she says without even looking at her bestfriend who’s been admiring her nonstop with heart-shaped eyes. “done!”

sunghoon’s jolted back to reality and he smiles softly. “can i see?”

“yeah,” the girl casually replies as she tidies up the torn packages from unboxing her new clips. hoon stands and goes to her standing mirror only for his lips to part in surprise? maybe dismay?? he expected to look cool, or cute, at least, but now he looks like an experiment gone wrong with how his hair’s clipped standing like uneven cut grass frazzled in all directions.

and it’s even slightly disturbing to see the fake butterflies bobbing side to side while being clumped together like an infestation.

he spins, brows knit and takes a deep breath to complai—

“see! cute, right?” (y/n) chirps, the biggest toothy grin on her face as cheeks bunch up and eyes twinkle with pure expectation. suddenly, sunghoon’s words crumble and furrow softens.

“yeah,” he agrees before he can even deny and it leaves himself confused. not for long though, because his bestfriend’s quick to squeal and take a picture with their cheeks pressed together and the proximity has him reeling.

it doesn’t matter that he looks goofy and it would ruin his entire nonchalant image, it doesn’t matter that she practically yanked him down and almost sent him falling face first, it doesn’t matter that his scalp is practically ripping off from the tension of the clips.

because she’s happy—because of him.

and honestly, he’d put his life at stake just to be able to give that to her every single day. to be with her at every single point of her life and make her smile without fail.

in sickness and in health—

wedding vows already??

he mentally slaps himself.

ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog— they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[made2wait]

sinners (2025) in the muslim and arab view: 🌴

---------------------------------------------------

music in islam is a widely debated topic, with many scholars within the religion prohibiting music entirely, while others permit certain types of music and prohibit some. It’s a heated field with conflicting evidence, because while some heavily discourage music, this does not imply that most people will share that viewpoint because music has been ingrained in daily life, whether or not one is muslim. 

the general consensus, however, is that one should not be overly affected by music. this is the interesting part because, in sinners, sammie’s father tries and tries to pull sammie away from the temptation of music, but at the same time he doesn’t overly forbid music, and this is seen in the way his father carefully places the guitar on the wall, its seen when his father attempts to persuade him into playing for the choir, and it is also seen when he dejectedly watches sammie walk away with the guitar. so, his father does allow for music, but he confines it within the preaching/religious sense, similar to islam, which is specifically what the other half of scholars permit in terms of music; music that inspires belief, or music that is free of obscenity/debauchery. his father, fearful as he is of ‘dancing with the devil’, is lenient to a spiritually-acceptable form of music. 

due to the conflicting opinions on music, modern muslims allow themselves to dabble in casual sin and enjoy music, but it is known to not go overboard. and by overboard, I mean listening to dangerously soul-stirring music, or listening to music in an emotional state, or being too affected by the music/singing (either by the musical instrument used or the lyrics), because in all cases you are entering into a spiritual and vulnerable position. 

the one type of music that islam strongly advises against, is the type that “stimulates instincts or arouse desires,”, because once you are in this sphere of vulnerability and spiritual openness, you are inviting ANYBODY in, specifically jinns (beings that are made of fire, not to be confused with demons) and/or shaytan (islam’s cursed name for the devil). as to jinns, islam dictates that they are neutral, invisible beings born from ‘smokeless fire’. like humans, they have a moral compass, they freely follow religion, and they are widely known in the arab/muslim world to be mischievous, and they would not hesitate to possess you if you are emotionally heightened by music. As to shaytan, his one true goal is to derail you from your religious path, so naturally, in this case he would fuel your over-indulgence in music till you lose yourself completely. therefore, piercing the spiritual veil in islam is absolutely not far-fetched, because it is an unsettling occurrence whispered about within arab culture and communities.

when watching sammie pierce the veil and allow the spirits of his ancestors to jointly feel his music, it felt like witnessing the process of a soul readily peeling the veil that separates the seen world from the unseen world, and unknowingly sharing that sensitive and spiritual space with beings that are invisible to the naked eye. in that moment one could say sammie was literally baring his soul for anyone to come and take it. that is why a lot of the muslim viewers were uneased by the scene. to some it was a beautiful synchrony of black culture and music, but others saw the possibility of possession. (either belief doesn't negate the other, just saying!). interestingly, when we see the building in flames and the people/spirits dancing within it, the camera pans out and turns to remmick, as if we are watching the scene unfold from his point of view, and the look of wonder in his face is literally a screen-imagining of how lustful spirits can be towards your vulnerability, because they want that bodily control, they want to fester in your mind, they want to sow discord. that part is especially nerving, seeing the physical embodiment of a dark spirit, enticed and lured by the chance of possession. remmick wanted to possess sammie’s abilities for himself, he wanted to possess sammie’s body and mind, and these desires echo among the jinns as well. 

in the arab context, music is in our culture, it's in our language, our poetry, our history. and i'm talking about the arab culture generally, spanning the levantine arabs, the gulf arabs, etc… the arabic language itself is melodic. and yet, because islam and arab culture are parallel, we were raised to beware of immoderation, of being careless with music. there’s a saying that if a musician/singer was extraordinarily gifted, then they infused their songs with magic “sihr”, or they were a witch or they ‘sold their soul to the devil’. in the gulf, there’s a phenomena of singers being visited by jinns in their concerts, where the singer would look down at the crowd and suddenly spot among the crowd’s feet a pair of hooves (jinns can appear as humans, but their tell is always a hoof, a tail, or cat-like eyes), because jinns sure do love to crash a party! 

the hand held drum is a cultural instrument that is loved by all arabs, which was popularised by afro-arabs, and has a winning-record of splitting veils and inviting jinns, and this is frequently found in a specific area of music in gulf culture called ‘samry’. it begins with a simple gathering of men, usually afro-arabs, who sit/stand and play hand held drums while incanting famous songs or poetry. similar to sammie’s cyclops guitar, which is a defining instrument to blues music. samry is captivating, it's soul-jerking, it WILL command you to dance, which is why there’s so many cases of possession during samry sessions, where someone would suddenly jerk up and start dancing in a strange, non-human way (another tell of jinns, they dance like animals, it's unnerving). 

sinners has a way of showcasing the inextricable bound between music and man, especially the african-americans, and intriguingly, the afro-arabs, who came to the middle east in a rather peaceful way than the former (depends tho, some came by force, some by trade, etc), but the conjoined idea is that they brought music with them, due to the fact that they can speak to music differently, their engagement with it is a way of life that no continent can recreate. sinners have unknowingly (or knowingly, cuz ryan is a genius) tapped into this conversation of the power of sound/music in islam, and of the intricate sub-culture of folk music fostered by afro-arabs. this is a conversation that can go on, and on, and onnnn. But this is my thoughts on the topic.

ty for reading! xoxo

[glitchgh0sty]

Yall,, I saw Keferon’s post about Energon a while back and the concept of slime + jello = Energon has been spinning around in my head like a potato that caught fire ever since 👏😭

Think about the TEXTURES, there are so many different types of slime to choose from and because it’s food? We also have makeshift instructions for a list of ingredients to improvise from,, now there is a reason for cooking utensils, even if we don’t know what it is yet✨

I can think of a good 3 reasons for why Cybertronian chefs would need ovens now and I couldn’t be more excited,, dry it slow [open air] = classic Energon, oven? [cook slowly] = squishy, nuke it? = thin crust, a combination of sorts? = squishy on the inside/ tough on the outside, catalyst? = glassy

AND THERE WOULD BE STAND MIXERS, graters, knives, pans, tins, FRIDGES!1

Promise to goodness I am this close to making my own recipe /j 🤏✨ [don’t tempt me now,, -*distant laughter*]

[totalswag]

can you do singer!reader preforming at coachella singing bed chem and when it gets to who’s the cute guy with the wide blue eyes the camera pans to drew

wide blue eyes �� DREW STARKEY.ᐟ

authors note thank you anon for this request. this is kinda short eek. feedback is always appreciated <3

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masterlist

summary performing one of your popular songs at coachella on stage. when a certain line us sung, drew's face is on the big screen.

warning(s) adult themes, mild suggestive content, intimate performance.

Performing at Coachella on the main stage is honestly a dream come true in your career. Seeing the large crowd in front of you had you feeling a lot of emotions. You couldn't be more happier.

As you look into the crowd, you notice the vip section where friends were standing with security close by. Drew, your boyfriend, stood next to Maddie. A bunch of other well known celebs⎯your friends⎯were in the vip section too.

You've just finished singing one of your most popular songs. Walking around with your microphone in one hand and the other fixing your hair, "How's everyone feeling tonight?" Your voice was overflowing with enthusiasm.

The audience cheers in response. You smile feeling their energy rise. Throughout the whole set, they kept the energy going.

“All right, Coachella,” you breathe into the mic as you step into the light, heels clicking over the stage, your sheer bejeweled dress catching every flash, “let’s talk about chemistry.”

The opening chords of "Bed Chem" come in like a seduction, sensual and sweet, and the roar of the audience fills you with fire. You move with it⎯every sway of your hips, every seductive peek over your shoulder is precisely timed.

I was in a sheer dress the day that we met

You smile in-between lyrics, thinking about the first time meeting Drew at an event. Seeing him for the first time felt like a fever dream⎯only talked for a second but felt as if you've known him.

A few lines in, you approach the edge of the stage, winking at the crowd, letting them sing the ooh, ah's back at you. Then it comes⎯the line. The one that always gets them.

You slow your walk. Let the silence draw in, just for a breath.

Out of breath, got me going like (ooh)

You drop into a crouch, knees wide, hair cascading over one shoulder as you lean into the mic with a guttural “ooh”⎯drawn out and breathy. Your chest rises and falls like you’ve just run a mile, and it’s not just for show. You feel the lyric in your bones, in your skin.

The crowd eats it up, losing their minds as you rise slow, controlled, and grinning like you’ve just won the game you were playing.

Who’s the cute guy with wide blue eyes

Right on cue, the camera cuts from your smirk to the front row.

Drew.

The crowd cheers louder when he appears on screen. Hair a little messy, wearing your tour lanyard and a denim jacket half-slipped off his shoulder. Blue eyes impossibly clear under the lights, lips parted like he’s been caught off guard

Maddie screams behind him, "that's her boyfriend!" pointing to him. He laughs at Maddie's statement.

On tour, you never had him on the big screen at your shows whenever he came. With how you were feeling earlier this week and him tagging along, you wanted to add in a little surprise for the fans. Obviously they were expecting that.

How you pick me up, pull ‘em down, turn me ‘round

You spin⎯slow, suggestive⎯dragging your hand up your thigh, then letting it fall away as the lights pulse harder. Sweat’s beginning to gather at the back of your neck, but you barely feel it. You’re on fire, lit up from the inside out.

As you continued performing the song, you couldn't get Drew out of your head. You felt his eye burning in you the rest of the set.

By the end of Bed Chem, you throw a wink over your shoulder, then turn to walk away slowly⎯heels clicking like punctuation⎯giving the crowd just a flash of your open back and the sheer train of your dress swaying dramatically behind you.

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[brailsthesmolgurl]

"What do you think of my outfit?"

Preview: How will the boys react to you wearing a revealing outfit? (and yes, I figured Sylus should be included too :))

Warning: TEASING, SLIGHT SMEXY SCENES!

SYLUS

"What do I think of that?" He gestured towards your skin tight dress that works really well in accentuating your curves. You, usually wrapped in comfortable and baggy clothes, had managed to go all out and reminding Sylus of the body you had always have under those loose clothings of yours. It is a date night in a fancy restaurant for a fancy event so you thought it was only right to play dress up. You had purchased this dress online as Sylus has been home for the past few days and going out alone would be too suspicious for someone as sharp eyed for him so getting it online is your best option. But, you certainly did not expect the outfit to fit too well, judging by the way your lover's eyes seemed to gleamed a darker shade of amber. "It's befitting for someone like you that's for sure."

When he was asked whether he is more than willing to let you wear more of these outfits in the near future, the man got up from his comfortable lounging seat, setting his gun aside onto the coffee table and he chuckled darkly as he sauntered over to you, pinning you against the wall in the process. "As long as you bear my marks, I am not worried about competition baby." He growled slightly as he leaned down and started groping you through your dress. His touch set off torrents of fire across your body, your undulating breaths quickening by every passing second. Moans of excitement raying from your mouth further edging him on to just rip the dress immediately off of you right this moment.

ZAYNE

Zayne would just sigh when he sees you clad in that skin-tight dress, twirling in front of him in excitement. He would lower his glasses and panned quietly at you, pinching on the slight bump of his nose when he tries to figure out what to tell you. "I would admit that you look good in any outfit. Including what I am seeing now." His compliment does come off to be quite half-arsed as he was not quite happy with the dress not leaving one with much imagination. Given this man would go the lengths of researching on 'how to be nice to the partner', he is not known for voicing out his repines. Hence, instead of being upfront, he would present a snappy remark in return. "But, do not come to me if you end up having a cold."

"If anyone tries to hit on you," the doctor has his slender fingers gripping onto his chin, eyebrows sewn together as he thought of a reaction towards the eidetic scenario. "I will tell them off only if you need me to." You were definitely shocked at his response, partially unsatisfied until he adds on, his confidence coming through immediately. "That's because we both know that, it will only be me that could heal you." He smirked, placing his glasses back onto the table and he turned his chair, now directly facing you. It only took two fingers for him to beckon you over and you became obsequious, prancing towards him and seating yourself onto his thighs. His hand coming to place onto your inner thigh, thumb rubbing softly over your sensitive skin. "Now, let me heal your cold first."

XAVIER

The blond man had blinked multiple times, looking at your outfit, more like staring. If he is in any cartoon shows right now, he would be drooling, with a cloud forming on top of his head, imagining how he could put your body to good use in that tight outfit of yours. It would be a 18+ cartoon for sure at this point. "You look stunning in that dress." His tone sounded...hesitant? He would try to shift his gaze to not make you uncomfortable, but let's be honest, who would not like to be stared at, especially by someone like Xavier? He had never been the type to judge you based on your styles. He finds most of it adorable on you, if not befitting. But this, this tight fitting outfit is fresh territory for him.

"This outfit does not suit you y/n." He does not hesitate one bit when your next question followed, asking him of his opinion what if someone else were to approach you when you are outside wearing this apparel. His answer is avoiding the question, only to mask his jealousy. When you ask for a more valid answer from him, he would simply take off the hoodie he currently has on and tosses it, aimed right at your face so it falls right onto your head. "You should put that on so that the others won't get to you before I do." A slight growl bubbled at the back of his throat when he careened over to you. The next sensation you felt was being pushed up against the wall, ready to be devoured.

RAFAYEL

A pout. The same pout he gives whenever he is frustrated at you. Now, he wears it when he catches sight of you in that bodycon dress. It was gifted to him by one of his sponsors to congratulate him for the announcement of his muse, aka you. He took it with the image of you wearing it but damn, he had never figured that it fit you like a snuck glove. If he was not pouting, he would have been the one drooling over you. But Rafayel, is a man of standards. "The brand seems to dote on you by picking this outfit for you." He then turned around and got onto his phone, pressing his phone against his ear.

You assumed it was Thomas judging by how Rafayel was frowning through his tone. "List out the brand that gave y/n the bodycon dress from now on. They are trying to get my girl stolen from me." Your lips are pressed together tightly when you witnessed Rafayel 'burning the brand deals just for you', all for the sake of covering up his jealousy. "Now, you are only allowed to wear this whenever you are around me alright?" He is quick to walk back over to your side, slipping his arm effortlessly around your waist and planting a chaste kiss to your lips. "Because a shining star like you only deserves a spot next to me."