#it was a girl with pink hair who was like dripping honey and blue butterflies had landed on her

[steviescrystals]

so i was in lit mag in high school and art editor my senior year and it was easily one of the best parts of my high school experience, and one of the great things about it was that it really helped motivate me to devote more time to my art (bc we never got enough submissions from the rest of the school so a solid amount of them came from those of us in the club lol) and one of the pieces i submitted senior year was not my best work ever but something i was really proud of at the time and the concept was something i was just obsessed with like i could not get it out of my head for so long. and the other day i was going through a folder full of my art from middle school that i hadn't looked at in forever and i found a drawing i did in 8th grade of the same thing?? like it wasn't the exact same drawing but it was the same concept and i just fully forgot i had already drawn it right up until i found it again… this is so random but i just keep thinking about it

[slutty-hina]

THIS WASN’T THE SAME TAKEMICHI HINA ONCE KNEW. It was impossible—this couldn’t have been the gentle and caring Hanagaki Takemichi she found herself crushing over all those years ago. This one was different, his once bright blue eyes were now dark and full of lust; those same eyes that shed so much tears were fixed on the way her cunt hugged his dick. The sight was basically pornographic, here she was bent over the leather chaise in Takemichi’s office with her around ass lifted into the air as Takemichi continously slammed his hips into her. Dirty praises filling her ears, Hina couldn’t believe it. What changed him? What got into him? “D-damn you’re such a good cum slut.” Takemichi would groan with his head thrown back in bliss. “You take dick so well baby.”

He pressed his large hand onto her back, pushing her arch deeper than it already was. Hina’s blue acrylic nails gripped the brown leather seat tighter, any more tighter and her nails would break. “T-Takemichi, you’re t-too big.” hina sweet mewls echoed through the brightly lit room, Japan’s evening skyline staring back at her—it was as if it was taunting her. Before this turned so lewd, hina had entered the Bonten office for a job interview. It was a simple secretary position but that quickly changed when her old friend walked through the door with his boss. Speaking of  his boss, hina weren’t even sure if he left the room or not. Hot wet kisses are pressed onto herr back as Takemichi continues to rut into her. His heavy tip gently pressing against her pulsing cervix, “Please Takemichi, it’s too much.”

A low chuckle leaved Takemich’s throat as stared down at her withering form, “You want me to stop? While I’m working your pussy like this?” Even his voice was deeper than she remembered. “Fuck honey, I don’t think I can. Plus my boss is watching. You promised to impress him.” Her eyes when widen those words left his mouth. “Mhmm—the way your little pussy just gripped me—I—mmhm think that excited you.” Of course it did, but she couldn’t admit that. Honestly the view of Mikey palming his bulge while hina was being wrecked like this made butterflies form in her belly. “If you milk my cock just right, Mikey might give you a treat.”

He loved the way her cute ass jiggled every time it met his pelvis. “Oh gosh, Michi—you’re so fucking good.” Her babbles became incoherent with each stroke, his meaty tip brushed against your sweet spot with such an intensity you felt yourself pulsing around him. “Oh my fuck, I’m gonna cu—” hina body quivered and shook aggressively under Takemichi strong grip. It was the hardest orgasm she had experienced in so long; who knew the guy who often cried in herr arms would be the one to do it. His finger was still gripping her red  thong as he continued bullying his cock into her tight walls.

“Oi, look at me.” She noticed his presence before she even heard his voice, “Is your mouth good as your pussy?” He asked hina in such a nonchalant manner, if you weren’t getting your guts rearranged from behind she’d be offended. His voice was so cold—almost as cold as his presence. But gosh, his dick was so impressive. For someone who couldn’t be no taller than 5’3, his dick was long and thick—his tip was fat, with a tuft of blonde pubes to match his icy blonde undercut. “Open.”

Mikey slid his leaky tip along her tongue with ease; the feeling of her throat hugging his length sent a shiver than his spine. “There you go—good girl. Takemitchy, keep making her moan like that.” Honestly all you had to do was keep moaning around his dick and Mikey would be shooting a load down her throat in no time but it dawned on her; he was the boss, the CEO, the leader of the company—why not go all out. She bobbed her head along the length of his dick with such determination it took him by surprise. her moans along with her tongue massaging the underside of his cock had him gripping her long pink hair.  Spit and precum dripped onto Hina’s breast and down to her pink cute nipples. “That’s it you fucking slut. Swallow my dick.”

Takemichi’s moans grew louder and needier with each time his tip met her velvety walls. It was a matter of time before he was going to start losing himself in her pussy. He was already so drunk. His high pitched moans almost reminded hina of the old Takemichi. “You’re gonna let like him cum that little cunt of yours, right?” Mikey pulled her hair harder causing her light brown eyes to meet with his. A muffled moan of agreement would sent his head into the air as he fucked her face harder, trimmed long hanging balls continuously meeting the tip of her chin.

“Oh fuck, that’s it Hina.” The sound of skin slapping and deep moans filled the spacious office, “F-fuck this’ll be my fucking pussy forever.” Takemichi continuously snapped his hips into her plush ass. His cum mixed with hers dripped and splattered on the surrounding chair and onto Takermichi’s chiseled abdomen. His high pitched oh’s and ah's were like music to your ears as he worked another orgasm out of her.

Mikey wasn’t too far off either. His moans countered Takemichi's—they came out like low grunts. So low that they made her chest rattle. “Mhmm, I want you to swallow? Swallow it all and I'll give you a higher position.” Mikey held her head still as his hot sweet cum flooded her mouth. “Actually no — come, spit it in Takemitchy’s mouth.” Hina body moved without a single thought and Takemichi’s mouth was ready and willing to receive. The sight was so lewd, as she spit droplets of Mikey’s tasty cum onto the executive's pink tongue. “There you go, good girl. Now eat your cum from her pussy.” Mikey replied as he fucked into his soft hand. Hina body stuttered the second Takemichi stuffed his tongue in her used hole.

“You start as my personal assistant tomorrow.” Mikey smirked as he guided her head back to his hard dick. “How does that sound?”

“Fantastic. It’s just what I wanted.”

[ramenoff]

• 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩 •

Synopsis: Bucky would literally die for you but his ego is bigger than his dick and you wanna shove him out a window. 

Pairing: fuckboy!bucky x AFAB!reader (college au)

Warnings: uH enemies to lovers, no explicit smut (brief, inexplicit mentions), PINING OH MY GOD, unrequited love (on Bucky’s part), language, some specific traits for reader mentioned (nothing like skin, hair or eye colour, more just clothing style and no makeup), Bucky is an idiot lmao.

(1.3k words)

You’re staring at your board like you’ve got a bone to pick with it, determination evident in your brow and a scraped knee to match it. 

Should’ve bought those knee pads. 

You huff out a sigh and push off on your board once more before dipping back down into the bowl and rounding the circumference to get yourself comfortable. Your foot meets the ground to spur on your momentum- it’s a simple trick, and you’ve only been skating for around two weeks at this point but you’ve spent all afternoon trying to nail this move and you refuse to return to your dorm with defeat written all over you. 

You direct yourself to round another lap before allowing the board to take its course up the side of the bowl. You meet the edge and you use the momentum in your hips to let yourself rise up in the air and- holy shit, you’re almost doing it! 

As you meet the edge your body swivels, right hand gripping the board to your feet as your left-

Well, your left hand was supposed to catch you. 

Before you can calculate that the distance was misjudged, you're tumbling down the side of the bowl and biting the pavement. 

“Take it easy there, champ.” 

You’re so ready to castrate him. 

“Eat glass,” you snap, dusting off your cargo shorts and examining your twin wounds on your knees. 

You’ve never understood just what makes James Buchanan Barnes so great. It's clear that he’s a class A douchebag with his stupid blue eyes and ridiculous hair that falls perfectly in place no matter how hungover and disgusting he was. He swears he’s got a big dick but he’s proven that his ego has the advantage, even girls on campus swap stories about one night stands and seven minutes of god knows what when stuffed into a closet together on a dare. Maybe you’re jealous that it isn’t you, or maybe you’re just tired of the pick-me-girl shit that goes on simply for a college fuckboy with precisely two and a half brain cells who has somehow Pavolov’d a swath of young girls to be at his beck and call when he wants a blowjob. Either way, the rest of campus thinks that Bucky is just peachy while you can beg to differ. 

The best part? He wants you bad. 

Your bruised skin and scruffy attitude is refreshing, he’s decided. Not once has he been so threatened by a look but he’d be damned if he didn’t imagine those harsh features softening at his touch. He doesn’t care if it’s behind closed doors, where your back arches and your eyes roll, pleads and prayers dripping off your lips like honey as he plays your body like a finely tuned instrument. Nor if it’s out where everyone can see, a brush at the small of your back, just so you know he’s there. If he could just tuck away that flyaway strand of hair that always hangs in front of your eyes he’d die happy. If he’s lucky he might cup your cheeks and trace your lips with his thumb, trying to memorize the touch in case his body forgets. 

He thinks, if he could have you, that his body would never truly forget it. You’re too extraordinary. You’re extraterrestrial. He swears your beauty is so alien but also earthly and real, unlike anything else he’s ever seen. If God exists, he made the cosmos revolve around you. Bucky sometimes scrunches his nose and grimaces at how cheesy it sounds but he solidly believes that God took inspiration from your eyes and created stars. Your hair is the waterfalls of the world, the clouds in the sky and the leaves on the trees all at once. Your skin is the earth, lush and rich, but blemished from your pursuits. When your eyes narrow and your brow sets, so does the sun. When you breathe the wind wraps him in chilled kisses. He’d like to create a hurricane with you. 

He’s bad at showing it, but he’d give you everything. He’s made fun of you and taunted you out of his own insecurity, but only because he just knows he’d love you better than anyone else. When he teases you about your baggy, ripped clothes it’s because he wishes he could worship the prize that lies beneath them. When he points out your circled eyes and offers to take you makeup shopping it’s because he wants to kiss those dark crescent moons and adore them like the rest of you. He finds any opportunity to poke at your scars and scabs because he yearns to place a band-aid on them and kiss them. 

Champ? He calls you that for two reasons. 

1. He can’t get enough of that face you make when he does. Never has he wanted to drop to his knees to beg and throw you over his shoulder and feel you squirm at the same time. You look like you could commit all sorts of creative crimes when you look at him like that and it makes his heart swell morbidly. 

2. You are a champion- his champion. He wants so desperately to be proud of you, to watch you with adoring eyes and his face in his palms as you put everything surrounding you to shame. Roses? They pale in comparison to your skin’s natural glow. The jaws of death? They snap shut and whimper when you walk- no, skate- by. 

Bucky wants you more than he has ever wanted anything in his life- come to think of it, he hasn’t ever really wanted much in life. He just grazed the median to get into college by a longshot, never exactly cared for a job or any of the girls he dated in the past. Steve and Sam, while being his best friends, Bucky knows they won’t put up with his absolute dogshit behavior forever. But you? He’d change for you. He’d cut his hair or wear a clown suit if you really wanted him to, he would do anything if it meant making that tight line of concentration and grit that is your mouth curve up into a smile. 

What does he do instead? 

“You’re pretty shit at this,” he readjusts his ball cap as he peers down the bowl at you. 

You glare up at him. Your eyes are a myriad of labyrinths. He’s sure he’ll never find his way out of them but you break the gaze and kick up your board. 

“Not as shit as you in bed,” You quip, taking a run up the side of the bowl and making it up this time without trouble. 

Please, just let him hold you.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out.”

Even just for a minute.

“I’d like to keep my pink palace untainted, thank you.” 

You can count if you really can’t stand it. 

“Pink palace? You mean crackhouse.”

Just let him be selfish. He doesn’t deserve it, but hell does he want you. 

“And your junk is close to godliness?” you snort. 

You’re now nearly nose-to-nose. He can smell you- warm vanilla and sandalwood rolling off your body like waves of rugged sweetness and the sharp bite of spearmint gum on your breath. He could kiss you. He could just take you by the back of the neck and finally get that clash of lips, teeth and tongue that have haunted his dreams at night. Or he could guide your chin to his lips with the tips of his fingers, letting anticipation build with the riot of butterflies in his stomach. 

But no. 

“Maybe you’ll get that trick next time, champ,” Bucky claps a hand on your shoulder and is on his way with his heart sinking in his chest.

[maaaaaatryoshka0325]

Kiss Me, Idiot - Hwang Hyunjin Enemies to Lovers au

Requested <3 

I mixed two requests together, and I hope it’s okay/ you guys like it! :)

Warnings: Smut ( a lot of it), Angst, fluff

Hwang Hyunjin, a name you detested. He was your typical bad boy; leather jacket, tight ripped jeans with a chain attached to two belt loops, a dangly earring, a tight necklace dangling from his neck, and unruly messy black hair. He had a smile that could turn any girl's legs to jelly, and an obnoxious laugh that would echo throughout the whole school. If he’s so perfect, why do you dislike him? Well, he loved to mess with you any chance he got. You were both complete opposites, natural enemies at its best. He was an extrovert that naturally drew people to him, and you were a shy introvert who spent most of her time studying and working. He always walked around with his clique, a group of guys who dressed the same, all extremely attractive and heart throbs. They always had girls approaching and following them around, almost every girl confessing to one of them. Hyunjin was the most popular, along with Chan and Minho. You had a few classes with Felix, who was, oddly enough, incredibly sweet. None of the others liked to torture you. In fact, they were almost pretty normal. But leave it to Hwang Hyunjin to ruin your day. His little teasing sessions were psychically harmless, but man did they piss you off. Not because what he said was offensive, but because they made your cheeks turn red and your stomach start to turn with butterflies and self consciousness.“You’re so easily flustered, it’s almost pathetic.” He said as he leaned in close to your desk in your second class, where he, unfortunately, sat beside you. “Shut it.” You muttered, looking down at the paper you were writing.

“Watcha writin’?” He asked, leaning over to peek at your paper.

“None of your business.” You said flatly, moving the paper from his eyes.

He gave you a small pout and sat back in his seat, his lip between his teeth. The rings on his fingers glistened in the room's light, and he smirked as he aimed the glare directly at you. You groaned and looked over at him, heavily irritated.

“Seriously? Don’t you have somewhere else to be annoying?” You asked.

“Not until 12, after this class.” He said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes and continued writing your paper, eagerly waiting for the class to be over. A whiff of his cologne hit your nose and you turned your head, your noses brushing, making you jump back. He let out a loud laugh, his eyes scrunching up as they always did.

“Do I make you nervous babygirl?” He asked.

“Don’t call me that.” You mumbled.

“Why not?” He asked.

“I’m not your babygirl.” You growled.

His eyes sparkled with amusement at your words, and he finally fell silent as your professor began to explain the notes he had left on the board. You hated sitting next to him in class, you hated how he always tried to distract you. He had chosen that seat specifically to torture you. You felt eyes on you and they wandered to where another boy was sitting a few rows away from you. He smirked at you and winked before turning around back to the board. His little gesture didn’t go unnoticed.

Xxxx

You put your books in your locker, excited for the weekend. You finally had a weekend off of both school and work, and you could finally just vegetate in bed. You stepped out of the school’s doors, sighing loudly as rain began to plop you on the head. You lived about fifteen minutes off of campus, but at least it wasn’t pouring. You began to regret not bringing your hoodie, not realizing it was supposed to rain. You could see your puffs of breath in the air, your hands clutching the long sleeves of your sweater tightly as you made your way through the dreary streets, your hair starting to fluff up and stick to the sides of your face. Your teeth chattering was the only thing you could hear over the sound of the drizzling rain over the city, your clothes starting to dampen and the chill of the early spring began to bite at your skin. You saw a small awning hanging off of a shop and stepped under it, quickly checking your phone to see if the rain was supposed to let up any time soon. The rain still managed to get you, dripping down from rips in the awning. It was better than being out in the open, but you still let out an irritated sigh. You quickly checked your phone to see if the rain would let up soon, when you heard something behind you. You turned around, your face plastering straight into someone’s chest. The familiar cologne filled your nose, and you quickly looked up to see Hyunjin looking down at you, quirking a brow.

“I knew you were into me, but I didn’t expect for you to throw yourself at me, Y/N.” He said, letting out a small chuckle.

You backed away from him as soon as you realized who it was, your cheeks a bright shade of red.

“As if.” You mumbled, turning away from him and stepping out from under the awning. It had started to pour, the rain instantly soaking through your clothing.

“Getting a little wet there?” Hyunjin asked, following you from under the awning. The leather jacket he wore had a hood attached to it, his hair lightly framing his face as he looked down at you.

“A little bit.” You huffed out, your teeth chattering as you went to ignore him. You heard him following you so you went to turn around and tell him to fuck off, when he plopped his jacket over you, the hood attaching to your head. His body heat was still on the hoodie, warming your body almost instantly. “What’s this for?”

“You’re cold, aren’t you?” He asked.

“You’re gonna get soaked-“ You started, but he instantly cut you off.

“I’ll be fine,” He said. “Do you live close by?”

You nodded and told him where you lived, and he turned in that direction.

“What are you doing?” You asked, knowing his dorm was the opposite direction.

“Walking you home. My dorm is too far to walk without my jacket.” He said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You knew he was teasing you, and he was most likely gonna tease you about knowing where your apartment was, but he was doing you a kindness, oddly enough. You slid your arms and body fully into his jacket, his warmth and scent all over you. Your body warmed up instantly, and you kept glancing over at him to see if he was cold, but his teeth didn’t chatter and his lips didn’t turn red or blue from the chill. When you got to your apartment, you led him up the stairs and in front of your door, going to open it.

“Aren’t you going to give me my jacket back? Or do you plan on sleeping with it?” Hyunjin asked, amused.

“Well I was gonna invite you in, but now I’m having second thoughts.” You shot at him.

“Oooh, trying to get me alone are you? You’re cute and all, but I don’t screw around with little virgins.” He teased.

Your blood boiled at his words. So what if you were a virgin? At least you weren’t a desperate player like him.

“As if.” You growled at him, turning and looking him directly in the eye. “You think so highly of yourself Hwang, but you’re just a pretty face, and probably a bad kisser. Your ego is bigger than your dick anyways.”

For some reason, Hyunjin’s eyes darkened and he backed you up into your door, his large frame hovering over you as he slammed his hand onto the door beside your head. He lowered his face to level with yours, anger in his eyes. “Just a pretty face? A bad kisser? My ego is bigger than my dick?” He asked, his voice asking.

You went to say something, when his lips met yours. They were soft and tasted of honey, molding into yours. Your eyes closed as you leaned into the kiss, making him smirk into your lips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue coming out and swiping your bottom lip. You whimpered into his mouth as he grabbed your key, which was already in the door, and turned it; the both of you half stumbling into your apartment. You were grateful your roommate, Yeji, was a party animal and decided to leave early to get ready at another friend's house. His body was over yours, your back against the wall to your small living room as his hands went down to your waist, digging into the flesh as his lips parted from yours, a small trail of saliva attaching the two of you. He smirked at your hazy expression and attached his lips to your neck, nibbling your soft skin. Your fingers clutches his shirt tightly, small whimpers leaving your lips.

“You’re so sensitive baby girl.” He rasped.

“Well,” You sighed, closing your eyes as he sucked on your sweet spot. “I’ve never…”

Hyunjin froze as he pulled away, his eyes wide in shock as he pulled away from you. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t of-“

You grabbed his shirt, your cheeks a light shade of pink.

“Please don’t stop.” You said in a small voice, your cheeks darkening. “I-I liked it..”

You noticed his cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he gently grabbed your hip, his finger gently lifting your chin up as he looked down at you.

Do you want this?” He asked. “Like, you’re sure you want this?”

“Yes, please Hyunjin.” You whispered, your large eyes innocently looking up at him.

He smirked and then buried his face back into your neck, sucking harshly on the skin, making you whimper. He carried you to your room, kicking the door shut with his foot as he dropped you on the bed, lifting his shirt over his head. Your cheeks turned red when you saw his toned body, possibly the best body you’ve ever laid eyes on. He kicked his shoes off and then hovered over you, connecting his lips to your neck again. He nipped along your throat as his hands roamed your body, finally getting a good grasp on your boobs. You moaned as he began to rub them, grinding his hips down against yours. Your fingers locked in his soft, dark hair, your eyes closed in bliss at his soft nips and his hands rubbing your boobs. His hands gently went down to your waist, slipping your leggings off and pressing his covered bulge against your clothed heat. He gently grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, his eyes raking down your almost fully exposed figure. You covered yourself and he chuckled, moving your hands from over your body.

 “You have a cute body, Y/N.” He purred.

You blushed at his words, your cheeks turning red as he wrapped his arms around you, his fingers popping the hooks of your bra. His eyes ate your bare boobs as he leaned forward, sucking one into his mouth. Your back arched, your clothed heat pressing harder against him. He smirked as his lips stayed wrapped around your nipple, his fingers on his other hand rolling your other nipple. Your fingers lightly tugged in his hair, and he let out a soft groan as you did so.

“You’re so sensitive, I love it.” He rasped, his fingers trailing down your body.

His hands gently slid your panties down, his eyes eating your glistening core. You went to close your legs, but he grabbed them and pressed them down, giving you a look that said “don’t even think about it.’ He lowered his face and blew on your dripping heat, making you whimper as he smirked.

“Just relax babygirl, I’ll take care of you.” He purred, licking a long, bold strip up your pussy.

Your back arched into his face as he sucked your clit into his mouth, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. Soft moans left your lips as you kept your fingers tangled in his hair. His tongue rolled your clit expertly, his plump lips wrapped around your aching nub.

“Fuck- Hyunjin.” You moaned, making him smirk..

“I’m gonna put a finger in, okay?” He asked, looking up at you.

You nodded, admiring his wet, swollen lips, and half lidded eyes full of desire. He pressed a soft kiss to your stomach before he gently slid his pointer finger into you, making you whimper. He brought himself up and kissed your lips, your essence coating your own lips as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours. His finger worked you open as he pumped it in and out of you, his thumb rubbing your clit as he curled his finger up into your gspot. You gasped into his mouth, your fingers tugging on his hair as he smirked against your lips and continued to curl his finger into the same spot.

“Oh god, Hyunjin.” You moaned, making him chuckle.

“Yes babygirl? Do you want more?” He cooed.

“Yes- please, please give me more.” You whined.

He swiftly pushed his joggers and boxers down in one swift motion, your eyes widening at his length. It was long, and had about average size in girth. He brought his lips to yours, his eyes surprisingly soft.

“Fuck, do you have condoms? I don’t carry any.” He sighed.

“I-I’m on the pill.” You blushed.

He quirked a brow at you, a small smirk on his lips. “Oh? Did you plan this? Is little Y/N not so innocent?”

“No!” You squealed with a blush. “I take it for other feminine things!”

He chuckled and kissed your forehead, making you blush harder. He pressed himself to your entrance, his hands intertwining with yours as he pressed another kiss to your lips. “Tell me if it hurts, I’ll go slow.”

You nodded as he gently pushed forward, his length pushing into your walls. You grit your teeth as he began to stretch you, and you let out a tiny whimper. He stopped his hips and brought his lips to yours, his hand squeezing yours. He slowly pushed in another inch and you whined, his one hand detaching from yours so he could push your hair out if your face and stroke it.

“Just a little more, kitten.” He whispered reassuringly.

You closed your eyes tight as he slid the last few inches in, and you let out a soft whine as he bottomed out. He left soft kisses on your face as he let you adjust.

“You did so well, Kitten.” He praised you softly, making your heart flutter.

You shifted your hips to let him know you were ready, and he slowly drew his hips back and pushed back into you. Your fingernails dug into his biceps as he thrusted into you, his lips parted as he let out a low groan.

“So damn tight.” He rasped.

You let out a loud whine as he shifted his hips, starting to fluidly thrust his hips into yours. His length was long, and it was hitting your sweet spot with every thrust and roll of his hips. His dark eyes went up and met yours, his length hitting deeper into you, making you throw your head back deeper into the pillows. Hyunjin leaned forward and started to kiss and nip at your neck, a small smirk on his face as his pace picked up. Your nails dug into his bare, broad shoulders, making him groan into the skin on your throat, his warm breath fanning your soft skin.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groaned, dropping his long, elegant fingers down to your clit and rubbing fast circles.

Your whole body tensed as you came around him, a loud moan ripping from your throat. Hyunjin groaned and quickly pulled out of you, cumming on your thighs.

“Fuck.” He groaned, rubbing himself and milking his length dry, his eyes hooded and plump lips parted.

His eyes slowly made their way to yours, a small smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes, and before you could say anything, he had gotten up, putting his boxers on. You weren’t surprised he was leaving right after he got what he wanted. You slowly sat up, wincing at the pain and the sticky feeling on your thighs from his cum and your blood lightly staining your inner thighs. You stopped when he appeared back into your vision, one of your shirts from your laundry basket in his hands. You were beyond shocked when he pushed you back down and cleaned the mess between your thighs, your cheeks red.

“Y-You didn’t have to do that.” You stuttered, not being able to make eye contact with him.

“Well, it wouldn’t have been nice of me to leave you here like this, right?” He asked, a small smile on his face.

“When are you nice?” You joked.

He threw your shirt, that was covered in his cum, at your face, the wet part sticking directly to your cheeks.

“Hwang Hyunjin!!!” You screamed at him, making him cackle. He went to run when you jumped on him, knocking him over as you landed on him. He laughed as you straddled him, trying to whack him. His hands grabbed you wrists, holding them tightly as he giggled at the pout that was playing on your lips.

“Ya know, you’re kinda cute when you pout.” He chuckled.

“Yeah? And you’re kinda cute when you don’t talk.” You said with a huff. He smirked at you and grabbed your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lifted himself up and pressed his lips to yours. And this is where it all began, the unspoken agreement to keep seeing each other this way.

Xxxx

Yeji spit out her drink, her eyes going straight to your marked up neck. You and Hyunjin have been seeing each other a little more recently, always when Yeji wasn’t around. Her hand moved your hair out of the way, her eyes popping out of her head when you swatted her hand away and covered the marks with your hand.

“And where did you get those from Y/N?” She asked in disbelief.

“No one.” You said quickly, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

“Mhmmmm!” She said with a big smile. “So who is it? Hm? Hm? Tell me!”

You covered your face and she giggled and hugged you.

“My little Y/N isn’t a virgin anymore!” She squealed. “You have to tell me who it was!”

“You’re gonna judge me!” You groaned.

“No I won’t!” She said, putting her hand over her heart. “I promise!”

“It-It was… Hyunjin…” You said quietly.

Her eyes popped out of her head, her jaw dropping as she stared at you. She gripped her chest and dramatically backed into the wall.

“My little Y/N lost her virginity to Hwang Hyunjin!” She gasped.

“Shhhh!” You snickered, your cheeks red.

“How did that happen?! I thought you hated him!” She squealed.

“He walked me home after letting me use his jacket when it was raining a couple weeks ago, and when we got here I taunted him and next thing I knew, I lost my virginity.” You laughed.

“I can’t believe you lost your virginity to that guy!” She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe people believe he and I are related.”

“I mean, you two do look alike.” You said, looking at her facial features.

Yeji arched a brow, a mischievous grin on her face. “Are you saying you’d bang me too, Y/N?”

She squealed as you whacked her arm, her laugh echoing in your small apartment.

Xxxxx

“You’re so annoying!” You huffed, glaring at Hyunjin.

He had come into your job, where you worked at a bubble tea/smoothie bar, and he had been annoying you for the past half hour. His intense, cat like eyes were bright with amusement as he sucked the straw of his taro bubble tea into the side of his mouth. He was lucky it was dead in the shop, or you’d kill him for annoying you.

“C’mon kitten, don’t act like that.” He purred, his eyes eating you up.

“Don’t call me that.” You snapped.

“You shouldn’t be back talking to me that way.” He cooed.

“I’ll talk to you anyway I want too, Hwang.” You growled, finishing the cleaning in the small lounge area.

“I would stop if I were you.” He said lowly.

“Or what?” You asked, arching a brow. “What are you gonna do?”

In an instant, his hand was around your throat, your eyes popping out of your head as he stared intently in your eyes.

“You just messed up, babygirl.” He growled, backing you into the bathroom.

He pushed you down onto your knees, his eyes holding yours as his hand remained around your throat. He raised his other hand and brushed the few strands of hair that were in your face, his eyes hard as he stared down at you.

“I think I need to shut that pretty little mouth of yours, don’t you agree, Kitten?” He asked.

You went to open your mouth to say something, when his thumb slid up and slipped into your mouth, your lips wrapping around it.

“That’s it, Kitten.” He purred.

His free hand slid down to his belt, unbuckling it and pushing his tight, dark jeans down to his thighs. His length was forming a large tent in his boxers, making your mouth water around his thumb, saliva dripping down to his knuckle. He smirked down at you as he withdrew his thumb from your mouth, spreading your saliva around your lips.

“Now be a good girl.” He growled, taking his hardened length out and rubbing it along your saliva covered lips.

You wrapped your lips around his tip, your tongue poking out and running along his slit. His hand went to your cheek, gently rubbing it with his thumb as you looked up at him, making him release a small groan.

“So cute with your lips around my dick.” He groaned.

You pushed your head down, taking as much of him as you could. Your hand went down to his balls, gently cupping them as you pulled your head back and took him back down your throat, earning a guttural groan from his lips. You looked back up at him, his pretty lips parted, his eyes closed in bliss. His hand wrapped itself in your hair as he began to guide your mouth up and down, slurping and choking sounds filling the bathroom. Your fingers gently massaged his balls as you kept taking him down your throat, and you noticed his thighs starting to shake.

 “I’m gonna cum Kitten, can I cum down that cute little throat of yours?” He asked through gritted teeth, trying his hardest not to grip your head and violently face fuck you.

 You hummed around his length as you swirled your tongue around, taking him to the base. His eyes closed tight as he rocked his hips foreword, a deep groan leaving his lips as his cum shot down your throat, and you eagerly swallowed around him, your hands gripping his thighs tightly. His hand gripped your hair hard as his cum leaked down your throat, his breathing ragged. “That’s it, Kitten.” He rasped. “Drink it all.”

His hand loosened in your hair, his hand gently stroking the side of your head. He slowly pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva attaching to the tip of his length. He pulled you up and attached his lips to yours, his hands grabbing your waist. “Now finish up here Kitten, I’d love to give you your reward for being so good.”

Xxxx

Hyunjin panted as his hips snapped into yours, his hand in your hair as he slammed into you from behind. His hand had your face pinned into the bed, your loud moans muffled by your pillow.

“Fuck.” Hyunjin groaned. “You’re so tight.”

“Y-You’re so- fuck- so deep.” You moaned loudly.

“Is that right?” Hyunjin cooed, bending forward and going deeper, his hands planted on either side of your head. “You like when my big dick is deep in that pretty little pussy?”

“I love it.” You moaned loudly, fingers digging into your comforter. “I love it so much.”

“Good girl.” He grunted, slamming his hips into yours.

You saw stars as you came, your clenching heat tightening around him. He pulled out with a loud grunt, cumming on your ass. The two of you panted as he grabbed the roll of paper towels beside your bed (which you had gotten because of him), and he gently wiped his cum off of your ass. He plopped down beside you after, and you were quite shocked when he threw his arm over your waist, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your bare shoulder. His hand gently massaged your hip, a small laugh leaving his lips.

“I’m hungry.” He whined into your skin.

“Yeji and I haven’t gone food shopping yet.” You sighed. “I don’t get paid till Friday.”

“I can always order us some take out.” He suggested.

“Don’t worry about me, get whatever you want.” You laughed.

Hyunjin frowned at you, arching a brow. “What do you want?”

“Hyunjin-“

“What do you want?” He asked again, more sternly.

“Well, what are you in the mood for?” You asked.

Hyunjin laid there for a minute, puzzling over what he was in the mood for. “I think I want some sushi.”

“Sushi sounds so good right now.” You agreed.

Hyunjin called and ordered the sushi, adding two bubble teas and some dumplings with them. You grabbed your blankets and set up the couch, putting a movie on for the both of you. Hyunjin had made a habit of staying around after your little hookup sessions, not that you minded too much. He kept you company, and despite you thinking he was obnoxious, it was kind of nice having him around. He’d make you laugh a lot, showed you a bunch of movies and dramas, and would either buy you dinner or help you cook (not that he was all that good at cooking, except for cooking his own fingers). 

Hyunjin had wandered into your room to grab his favorite pair of joggers that he had left at your place when the delivery man knocked on your door. You waddled over to the door, thighs still hurting from your little session with Hyunjin, and opened it. You were quite surprised to see your classmate, the one who had winked at you, standing in front of your door with your take out order.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“Oh, hi.” You greeted him with a friendly smile, not knowing how he knew your name.

“I didn’t know you lived in these apartments, they’re nice!” He said with a smile.

“Do I look too poor to live in such nice apartments?” You teased.

“Wha- no! No, that’s not what I meant!” He gasped.

You chuckled and shook your head.

“I’m only teasing.” You giggled.

He smiled at you for a moment, and you realized how pretty he was. He was quite tall, his dark hair framing his face nicely.

“I’m Chani by the way.” He said with a bigger smile, his deep voice rumbling.

Before you could say anything, Hyunjin appeared beside you, nudging you aside and handing Chani a bill and taking the food, muttering a “keep the change” as he beckoned you away from the door.

“Well, it was nice seeing you, Chani.” You said with a smile.

“Likewise, see you in class.” He said, smiling back and walking away.

You closed the door, the smile still on your face as you turned back to Hyunjin, who was eyeing you.

“You think he’s cute or something?” He asked.

“Why? You jealous or something?” You asked, arching a brow.

Hyunjin scoffed and sat down, pulling his chopsticks out of the bag and shoving a roll in his mouth, a pout on his lips.

“Awe, Jinnie.” You giggled. “Are you jealou-”

You were cut off by Hyunjin shoving one of the rolls in your mouth, your cheeks filling with rice and spicy mayo.

“Shut up and eat.” Hyunjin mumbled. “As if I’d be jealous.”

You giggled and took out your rolls and the dumplings, pressing play on the remote as the movie began to play. The only sounds heard in the were the voices from the movie, and the occasional slurping sound of one of you drinking your bubble tea. Your eyes were glued to the TV screen when you felt Hyunjin’s arm snake around you, pulling you into his side. You gave him a confused look and he chuckled.

“I can fuck you senseless, but not cuddle with you?” He asked, arching a brow.

“Whatever.” You laughed, laying your head on his chest.

As the movie played, you could hear his heart gently thumping in his chest, the sound sending waves of comfort through you. It was weird, you thought. He used to cause you so much anxiety and annoyance; and now, when you were with him, you felt as though the whole world was in place.

Xxxxx

The beats to the music blared over your head as you made your way through the crowd. It was Yeji’s birthday, and she had begged you to come and party with her. The crowded room was musky, and your skin was sticky with sweat as you pushed past multiple bodies, your drink firmly in your hand. The fact that it was late May didn’t help with the temperature in the room, and you could only sip your spiked lemonade to keep yourself cool.

Yeji knew how to party- no matter what the occasion, but she was exceptionally good at making sure someone’s birthday was a hit, including her own. She rented out the empty room you were all in, making sure to add a bunch of props. She also hired one of Hyunjin’s friends, Changbin, as the DJ.

“This party is great!” She yelled to you over the music, your body swaying to the beat.

“I think this is one of the biggest ones you’ve thrown so far!” You yelled back, giving her a bright smile.

You hadn’t partied in awhile, since you had almost gotten alcohol poisoning the last time you had partied with Yeji. You learned not to do 16 shots of vodka that night (I’ve done 16 shots of vodka in a night HAHAHAHA). And Yeji was stuck taking care of you for two days after.

You made your way to the dance floor, where the party goers were circling someone. You pushed your way to the front, your heart almost stopping. Hyunjin was in the center, dancing beautifully with a woman. Her slender form fit perfectly with him, their eyes locked as they danced together, a small smirk on his face. You never knew you’d feel the way you did that moment, your heart sitting in the bottom of your stomach. You were jealous.

Your eyes couldn’t leave the two of them, the way their bodies matched perfectly to the beat of the song, the way his long fingers went to her hip and held it. It made you feel almost sick, and the room started to spin a little. You brought your drink to your lips, trying to distract yourself with the taste of the alcohol, when you felt a light tap on your shoulder. You turned and saw Chani standing there, his dark eyes catching the little bit of light in the room, making them sparkle beautifully.

“Hey Y/N, wanna dance?” He asked.

You gave him a light smile and nodded, finishing your drink and allowing him to lead you to the center, where other couples were dancing. His larger hands found your waist, his eyes locking with yours as he moved to the beat with you. His cologne filled your nose as he smiled at you and spun you around, bringing you close to him after. You were smiling at him too, the thought of Hyunjin clear out of your mind. Chani could dance, and he could dance just as well as Hyunjin. His moves were elegant and sharp, his hands and body pressing against yours to show you how to move along with him.

After the party, he led you and Yeji to a taxi, gently kissing the back of your hand as you got into the back seat.

“I had fun tonight, you two really know how to party.” He said with a wink. “I’ll see you in school, Y/N.”

You gave him a small smile and wave and scooted into the seat beside Yeji, who had her head leaning against the window. She had drank a lot, and you had been pushing water into her mouth for the past hour. You knew you’d have to take care of her tomorrow.

Chani stepped away from the car, turning with a small smirk as Hyunjin appeared in his view.

“Problem?” Chani asked.

“What are your intentions with her, Chanhee?” Hyunjin asked.

“I don’t know why you’re so concerned, Hwang.” Chani said, walking by him and knocking his shoulder against Hyunjin’s. “Maybe is just like to have some fun with her.”

“Leave her alone.” Hyunjin growled, turning around and glaring at Chani as he walked away.

“Or what?” Chani asked, glancing behind him. “Don’t try and threaten me, it won’t turn out well for you.”

Xxxx

Your eyes scanned your exam paper, the giant 95% beautifully written in bright red ink. You had only gotten two questions wrong, so the anxiety you had been feeling since you’d taken the test was all for nothing. You sighed in relief as you slipped it into a folder and placed it in your bag, your eyes landing on Hyunjin’s empty seat. You hadn’t talked to Hyunjin since before the party, and it was your first day back since the party had happened. He didn’t try messaging you at all, which was pretty odd, because the boy had a sex drive higher than a prostitutes.

“Hey Y/N.” A voice greeted you, legs blocking your view of Hyunjin’s desk.

You looked up and saw Chani standing there, a smile on his face.

“Hi Chani.” You greeted him back.

“I had a lot of fun at the party, we should hang out again sometime.” He said, his smile remaining on his handsome features.

“Oh, sure, definitely.” You agreed, smiling back at him.

“Excuse me, you’re blocking my seat.” An irritated voice spoke from behind Chani.

You glanced up and saw Hyunjin standing there, his eyes narrowed as he stared Chani dead in his eye. You didn’t miss the smirk that stretched across Chani’s face as he slowly stepped aside, then turned to you. “I’ll talk to you after class then.”

Hyunjin hid his clenching jaw from you as he sat down, slouching in his seat as he flipped his test paper over to reveal his score. A massive 90% was at the top, but he didn’t even crack a smile at the outstanding grade. He put it in a folder and slipped it into his bag, his eyes not meeting yours.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, seeing how he was clearly pissed off.

“Nothing, Y/N.” He said flatly.

“I can clearly tell somethings wrong, Hyunjin.” You pointed out.

“Mind your business.” He growled.

“Jeez, I was just asking.” You snapped back. “Don’t need to act all bent out of shape.”

His jaw clenched again at your back talk, his fingers tapping his desk. All throughout the lecture he kept his eyes away from you, he didn’t even bother you once. You began to wonder if you caught him at a bad time, when the bell rang, and Chani began to approach you as you headed out the door. Just when he opened his mouth to greet you, Hyunjin grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the classroom, dragging you down the hall.

“Hyunjin? What the Hell are you doing?!” You asked, ripping your arm out of his grasp.

He turned to you, his eyes narrowed and jaw tight. “Chani isn’t a good person, don’t talk to him.”

“I’ll talk to whoever I want too, now let me go!” You hissed, pulling your arm away.

His hand slid up and grabbed the side of your throat, making your thighs feel weak. His thumb came up and rubbed your bottom lip, his eyes dark. “I think you need to know your place.”

He backed you into the janitors closet, shutting and locking the door. He turned around and crashed his lips against yours, forcing a whimper from your throat. He smirked as he backed you against the closet wall, his large body towering over yours as he lifted one of your legs and pressing his growing length against your warm center.

“You’ve been bad.” He growled.

He turned you around and pressed your face into the wall, ripping your leggings down your legs. He softly rubbed your ass, giving it a harsh spank that made you jolt. You could feel your arousal beginning to soak your panties as another slap was landed to your ass, harder this time. You felt him move your panties to the slide, one of his slender fingers running along your slit. “Does pissing me off turn you on?” He asked, landing a harder spank to your ass. “Or is it me punishing you? You don’t fucking deserve foreplay.”

You felt the tip of his length run along your slit, before he pushed into you, your pussy screaming as he shoved himself up to the hilt inside of you. You bit down on your hand as he began to slam his hips into yours, not giving you even a second to adjust. You could tell Hyunjin was pissed; as he viewed oral as an art and could spend HOURS on end getting you off on just his tongue and fingers. But now, he was pounding into you so harshly, his fingers bruising your hips as you bit your hand to keep yourself from screaming. It hurt, but felt so amazing at the same time, the way his length was brushing your gspot and stretching your walls with every furious thrust of his hips. Your eyes were shut tight, euphoria making your body shake as he pounded into you harshly.

“Hy-Hyunjin-” You whimpered, earning a hard slap to your ass.

“Don’t fucking talk.” He growled.

Loud slapping sounds began to fill the closet, and you prayed now one could hear. He lifted one of your legs up, slamming deeping into you, making choked whimpers leave your lips as his tip was slamming into your cervix. His length was sliding in and out of your battered pussy with ease as your arousal and his precum soaked your insides, and you felt him begin to lose rhythm. Hyunjin grunted as you clenched around him, your nails digging into the wall as you felt him twitch inside of you, his warmth beginning to fill you. Your eyes were rolled back, thighs twitching as he thrusted deeply into you, rough pants leaving his lips as he slowly his hips down. He pulled out and pushed your panties over your abused pussy, his lips grazing your ear. 

“Don’t make a mess.” He growled, situating himself before stepping out of the closet.

You slowly followed him out, making eye contact with someone you didn’t want too; Chani. He eyed you and Hyunjin and then smirked, walking right past you both. You bit your lip and walked away from Hyunjin quickly, hearing him beginning to catch up to you.

“Seriously?” He asked in a hiss. “You're upset because he saw that?”

“So what if I am?! No one needs to know that kind of stuff!” You yelled.

Hyunjin scoffed, rolling his eyes. “He’s not a good person, Y/N.”

“And you’re much better?” You asked, your voice cracking. “You don’t even treat me like a person, you treat me like an object!”

Hyunjin’s expression fell, shock in his eyes.m”Y/N !-”

“Don’t!” You yelled, tears slipping from your eyes. “You just treat me like a fuck toy, and I’m sick of it! Don’t talk to me anymore Hwang Hyunjin, I hate you!” You hurried down the hallway, running out of the doors and towards your apartment. Your heart felt like it was shattering in your chest, your breathing rough and ragged as you began to feel the urge to throw up from crying so hard. When you got home, you sat in the bathtub to wash all of Hyunjin off of you and out of you. Your knees were to your chest, your face buried into your arms as you sobbed into them. Why did you have to fall for him? Why did he have to treat you like that? You shouldn’t have said you hated him- because you didn’t. You just hated how you believed he viewed you, you hated the way you felt about him… But- you couldn’t hate him.

Xxxx

“That’ll be $5.50 please.” You said to your last customer after handing him his bubble tea.

He gave you the money and a soft smile before leaving, and you knew it was because you looked terrible. You had skipped school the past two days, telling your professors you weren’t feeling well, and they felt bad enough to just send you everything online. In all reality- you were heartbroken. Hyunjin didn’t check up on you, and you began to feel guilty for yelling at him and telling him that you hated him, especially when your mind stopped reeling and you thought of his facial expression. He had looked so broken when you said it, his eyes full of disbelief and sadness. But could you truly blame yourself? He acted as if he owned you, and you weren’t even dating!

“Long time no see.” A deep voice rumbled.

Your eyes shot up and you saw Chani, his dark eyes full of amusement as he looked down at you.

“Oh, hi Chani.” You greeted him with a weak smile.

“You haven’t been to school, are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I just needed time to myself.” You said. “Do you need anything?”

“A mango boba please.” He said with a smile.

You rang him up and cleaned up around him as he drank his drink, and you realized he smelt like alcohol- badly. His eyes were glassy and the way he eyed you made you feel weird. After you finished, he walked out with you, his eyes constantly on you as he walked with you. Was he walking you home?

“You shouldn’t be walking all alone this late at night.” He said.

You looked at him in confusion, then your heart sank as he backed you into the wall. His dark eyes were on yours, a smirk on his face.

“Chani-”

His lips pressed into yours, and you squealed, pushing against his chest and pushing him away. His eyes narrowed as he tried again, but your hand landed on his face, shoving his jaw away.

“So you’re a little fucking whore for him but not for me?” He asked, grabbing your arm.

You shoved him off and ran past him, tears streaming down your cheeks. He went to go after you, when a large hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, a fist connecting with his cheek.

“I told you to back off, don’t fucking talk to her like that.” Hyunjin growled.

Chani scoffed, wiping his lips and smirking as he looked at Hyunjin. “You made a big mistake Hwang.” And then, all Hell broke loose.

XXX

You caught your breath, finally, while sitting on your couch, hugging your knees. You were quite traumatized from the whole experience. Chani was always such a good guy, how the fuck was he like that? Hyunjin was right, you were sad to think. Maybe he was really just trying to protect you, and you yelled at him. A sudden knock made you lift your head, and you wiped your eyes on your long sleeve sweater as you stood up to open the door, thinking it was Yeji, and that she had just forgotten her keys, as usual.

You opened the door and your breath was caught in your throat at the sight. Hyunjin was leaning against the door frame, his clothes ripped up and tattered, his lips busted and bleeding. His eye was black and blew, a deep gash through his eyebrow and along his cheek bone.

“Hyunjin!” You gasped as he stepped forward, his head dropping on your shoulder, weight fully against your body.

You helped him to your couch, sitting him down and cupping his cheeks. His hand came up to yours, his dull eyes meeting yours.

“What happened?” You asked, tears pricking your eyes.

“I saw what he did to you.” He whispered, his voice hoarse.

Tears began to slip down from your eyes, your arms pulling him into you as you held him. His head rested on your shoulder, his hands gently wrapped around you. Small sobs left your lips as you buried your face into his dark locks, his familiar smell comforting you.

“Why would you do that? You’re hurt!” You sobbed.

He pulled away from you and cupped your cheeks, clearing his throat.

“Because, Y/N, you’re not an object to me. I-I care about you a lot, and I wasn’t going to let him talk to you like that.” He said, his eyes gentle. “I’m so sorry for how I acted, I’m so sorry for making you cry. Please, please forgive me.”

His thumbs gently wiped your tears, your hands clutching his ripped up leather jacket tightly. He pulled you into his lap, his hands gently running up and down your back as you sat in his arms. The beating of his heart began to calm your nerves, your shaky hands still clutching his jacket. Your eyes were closed, your face buried into his chest as he gently rocked you. When you began to calm down, he pulled away, his hand gently touching your cheek.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, and I know you probably don’t feel the same but… I love you. And I have for a while.” He confessed.

Your heart began to pound wildly at his confession, at the words you had been dying to hear. Hyunjin really loved you? He was being serious?

“I-It’s okay if you don’t feel the same.” He said softly, noticing your expression hadn’t changed. “I understand I was a jerk and I suck but-” He was cut off by a small giggle, your eyes brimming with happy tears.

“Just kiss me, idiot.” You said with a smile.

He smiled big, pulling you in by the collar of your shirt and pressing his plump lips to yours. You slightly cringed at the taste of blood from the cut on his lip, but kissed him back anyways. The kiss felt different, his touch felt different- everything felt different. It was all full of passion, full of love.

“I love you.” He whispered when he pulled away.

“I love you too, Hwang Hyunjin.” You whispered back.

He smiled then went to kiss you again, but you put your finger to his mouth. “Let’s get you cleaned up first.”

Your hands were gentle as they gently glided through Hyunjin’s dark hair, his eyes closed as he laid on your chest. You had patched him up, and he was now laying in your bed on top of you as he rested. His thumb gently rubbed your arm as he began to drift off to sleep, a small smile on his face as he basked in your warmth and scent. It was crazy, really. You never thought you’d fall in love with the man you couldn’t stand from the day you met him. But life was full of surprises, and you couldn’t wait to experience them with the man who was your first, and hopefully your last, love. 

[mizunetzu]

I recommend you read this right after the first part. Enjoy <3

Tag: @inlittleways

——————

Shinsou x reader - Love Trigger (pt. 2)

⚠️warnings - sad shinsou :(

Pronouns - male, he/him

you can find the first part here!

——————

“You’re in love.”

It made perfect sense. Even if he denied it then, he couldn’t deny it now. He couldn’t decide if he fell in love with the lovey-dovey illusions of the (h/c) haired boy plaguing his mind, or if he wanted him even before that. Even so, one fact was abundantly clear.

He was so desperately in love with (L/n) (Y/n) and he made the biggest mistake of letting him slip through his fingers. It was like tasting the sweet fruit of affection, just to have it ripped away for your stupid actions.

Aizawa coughed into his elbow, trying to get Shinsous attention. He was staring devastatingly at the ground for far too long now, and he wanted to get back on his lunch break. Shinsou slowly raised his eyes, his legs following and bringing himself up to his feet.

“I...gotta go do something. Thanks.” He stumbled out of the faulty room, leaving two confused teachers and a very tired homeless looking man.

Once Shinsou closed the door to the teachers office, he started sprinting. He heard the distant shouts of the uptight blue haired boy from class 1-A, and even passed by his very confused friend. They all sounded like gibberish to him.

He stopped infront of the doors to the 1-H classroom. He didn’t know much about Hatsukoi, but he knew that she ate lunch in her class with her classmates every lunch.

He slammed open the door, startling the 3 girls, as he stomped his way over to the girl in question. She had her feet propped up in the table, and was twirling around a heart shaped cookie in her fingers.

“Deactivate your quirk.”

No response. Hatsukoi wouldn’t talk to him anymore, he figured she knew he was going to brainwash her into deactivating. Hatsukoi took a bite out of her cookie.

Her cockiness was starting to really piss him off. He was tired of have such sweet, vivid hallucinations of (y/n), just to be brought back to the fact he ruined something potentially beautiful. He slammed his fists on the table, making the two girls beside her yelp in suprise.

“DEACTIVATE YOUR FUCKING QUIRK! STOP GIVING ME GAY ASS DREAMS ABOUT (L/N)! I’M SO SICK OF IT!”

Hatsukoi stifled a snicker, and scribbled something on a sturdy napkin. She drew a tiny heart on the corner, then held it up with her bright pink nails. Shinsous heart stopped.

‘I never said I could specify what or who you dream about. Nor what emotion you feel. You did that all by yourself. <3’

Shinsous mouth went slack, ears reddening in embarrassment. Her two friends started giggling at his expression, while Hatsukoi held her signature, bad bitch grin. She flipped the napkin on its backside, and scribbled something else on it.

Shinsous throat closed up.

‘He sits on the rooftop at lunch now. On the third bench on the 2nd wing. Good luck xoxo <3’

He took the napkin, shoved it quickly down his pocket, and bolted out of the classroom. He heard Hatsukoi yell out a “bye bye~!”. He could’ve brainwashed her then, but he had to get his priorities straight.

He dashed up the stairs leading up to the rooftop. Even if (y/n) didn’t love him back, he just needed him in his life. It didn’t matter. He just wanted him to be by his side a little longer.

His legs stopped him in front of the rooftops door. He drew his hand to reach for the doorknob, but that froze aswell. He grit his teeth, yelling at himself to fucking move, but his body remained in place.

His legs felt like jelly. His body was covered in a cold sweat, and butterflies emerged from his stomach. He was nervous. Right on the other side of this door was the very boy he’d been having such intimate hallucinations about. He hopes it won’t get in the way of apolo-

The door swung open before he could react. A figure bumped into him, stumbling back and holding his head with a frown.

It was (Y/n). Oh god, it was so nice to see him up close. Even his frown looked angelic, and his hands looked so soft. The one thing that irked Shinsou though, was that the bento he was clutching was wrapped in a white cloth, instead of his usual, purple one. It was like him telling him that he didn’t need him anymore. It hurt way more that it should’ve.

(Y/n) broke into a cold sweat, and waved awkwardly. “I-hey...Shinsou...”

His voice dripped with honey. Without thinking, Shinsou grabbed onto (Y/n’s) arm and yanked him into the rooftop. All sense of rationality flew out the window.

‘People and their stupid emotions is what makes them idiots.’

Shouts of protest emitted from the (H/c) haired male, but Shinsou kept dragging him. Hell, even him shouting at him sounded heavenly.

‘They think with their feet instead of their head.’

“Shinsou-stop!” Shinsou ignored him, and cornered him onto a wall. He pressed his hand onto the smooth surface, using his other hand to hold one of (Y/n’s) wrists. His skin was so warm.

‘Sure I appreciate people who think I’m attractive. If it feels good, that’s ok. That’s all.’

(Y/n) squirmed and wriggled under Shinsous grasp, yelling at him to stop and using his white-cloth bento box to try and push him away.

‘Instead they cry and cling onto me, it’s seriously annoying.’

Shinsou scowled and ripped the lunchbox away from (y/n’s) free hand. He unwrapped the ugly white cloth, and ripped it to shreds, tossing aside the bare lunch box.

“Hey! Why’d you do that! S-stop it!” (Y/n) pushed at Shinsous chest, grasping at his tie.

‘I can’t understand that sensibility.’

“...why are you stopping me?”

Both his and (y/n’s) movements stopped. It was like pressing pause on a YouTube video. Shinsou had a look of desperation, one that made even (Y/n) feel bad.

Shinsous eyes watered involuntarily. “You..you would always complain when I wasn’t with you, so why is it any different now?!”

(Y/n’s) eyes softened. Shinsou was quiet for a moment, (y/n’s) pitiful gaze suddenly becoming too much to bear. He grasped the fabric of his grey blazer and pushed him up against the wall.

“Stop looking at me like that! S-say something! What do you want me to do? Aren’t we friends?!”

The purple haired boys voice cracked with every other word, tears falling freely down his hot cheeks. (Y/n’s) eyes widened, but he continued to stay silent.

“...I’m not leaving.” Shinsous voice was barely above a whisper, as if any louder he’d break down crying. “Y-You’re the one who can’t befriend people correctly.”

Shinsou cast his head down, tears flinging and cascading in the air. He gripped (y/n’s) blazer tighter. “Y-you’re...you’re the one who clings to me and sticks to me like glue...”

Shinsou brought his head up, suddenly pulling (y/n’s) blazer towards him in the process.

“SO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY!”

Shinsou brought the boy into a hug, clutching onto (y/n) like a lifeline. (Y/n) placed a hand on Shinsous shoulder. “Shinsou...”

“I’m not leaving.” Shinsou squeezed him tighter, furrowing his brows together. “I’m never gonna. Even if you grow uninterested in me, ev-even if you hate me, I’m not leaving!”

Shinsous voice was raspy with tears. “So don’t hate me...please I-I can’t...”

A hand placed itself on the crying boys waist, followed by two arms wrapping themselves snug against his waist.

“...why do you say ‘hate?’, Hitoshi-kun?”

Shinsou looked up. He called him by his first name for the first time in a while. He broke the hug, choosing instead to rest his hands on (y/n’s) shoulders. He tentatively wiped his face with his sleeve. ”You...you started ignoring me and avoiding m-“

“That’s not it!” (Y/n) looked worried, grasping Shinsous hands and squeezing them tightly. “At first, i was going to give you a day before I’d ‘bother’ you again so you wouldn’t hate me, but then I caught a really bad cold!” Shinsous eyebrows unfurled, his expression changing from despair to realization.

“Hitoshi-kun is...very precious to me a-and I didn’t want you to get sick! I’m sorry for avoiding you...please don’t cry...”

“...god, if you were sick you should stayed home...idiot...” (Y/n) brought a hand to his cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had freshly rolled down the males face. Shinsou cupped his hand, nuzzling into the warmth with his face. “I’m sorry, Hitoshi-kun.”

“Don’t apologize, please it’s-it’s my fault...I’m sorry, I won’t say stupid stuff like that again...”

(Y/n) opened his mouth to speak, when Shinsous eyes blared pink once more. However, this time, his eyes didn’t conjure up a fuzzy illusion of (y/n).

Instead, his mouth began to move on its own.

“I love you.”

The pink faded back into its normal purple color, as the two boy stood there in silence. Shinsou slapped a hand over his mouth, all the color draining from his face. If this was what ruined their friendship after he just got it back...

“I...”

“You don’t need to say anything, I said it on accident I’m so-“

(Y/n) buried himself into Shinsous shoulder. He brought his head up to Shinsous ear, and whispered with a smile,

“I love you too.”

—————

The lunch bell rang, cutting off the teacher and sending a chill down Shinsous spine.

He was in the middle of packing up when his friend stopped by his desk. “Ne, ne, you seem happy today.”

Truth be told, Shinsou was. But his face was harboring it’s neutral frown, so he was honestly confused as to how he could tell. Nonetheless, he sheepishly scratched at the back of his head.

“Well, I have a date today. I’m kinda excited,”

“Hold on a second!” His friend stared animatedly at the boy. “You? Person who rejected about 100 confessions, has a date?”

“Yea. What about it?” He walked up to the trash can and dropped a broken pencil inside, his friend flocking to him.

“Nothing nothing, who is it?!”

“Uh-I’m meeting up with them for lunch, so you can come see if you’d like.”

“Awesome!” They stepped out the door, immediately being swarmed by a boy with messy, (h/c) hair.

“Good afternoon, Hitoshi-kun!” (Y/n) wrapped his arms around Shinsou neck, burrowing his head into the crook of his shoulder. Shinsous friend was about to say something, when a Shinsou dipped down and kissed (y/n) on the forehead.

His friends jaw dropped to the floor. “I-Huh?! WAIT! WAIT! SHINSOU, I DIDN’T KNOW YOUR TASTES RAN IN THAT DIRECTION?!”

“To be honest I didn’t either,” Shinsou lazily wrapped his arms around the boy’s waist, resting his cheek on (y/n’s) head and facing his friend. “Well, see you.”

The two walked away from Shinsous friend, hand in hand. (Y/n’s) face lit up, suddenly turning to Shinsou.

“Oh! By the way,” he reached into his blazer, pulling out a bento box with purple cloth and blue kitty cats. “Do you like it? It’s cute, right?Cute like my super hot handsome boyfriend~”

Shinsou blushed. “Shut up...oh, by the way, why did you have a white cloth on your bento that one time?”

“Ah. My mom said I used this one too much, and she made me wash it and stuff. It was wet before I went to school so I had to use the white one. Which you ripped by the way.”

Sweat formed on the purple haired males brow. “W-wait, so you didn’t like, throw it away because you hated me or something?”

(Y/n) tilted his head to the side. “Why would I hate you? And throw away a perfectly good wrap? It’s just a piece of cloth.”

Shinsou flushed red with embarrassment. He pinched his laughing boyfriends cheeks, mumbling something inaudible. He really overthought it.

But then again, he overthought a lot of things.

——————

Ahahshshsj

[araingirl]

Eyesore: A mysterious love square

Bit by bit, the pink-haired girl raised her eyes and stared the mirror. Her bubblegum tresses were tied into a loose bun, supported by a black wooden hairpin with flamboyant floral motives. Temple-bell silver earrings swung from her ears, honey orbs occupied hundreds of emotions and bashfulness as ears caught the footsteps of someone familiar, someone very close. 

Her raven-haired husband stood behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder which was naked, due to her off-shoulder gown. Gently sitting beside her, he put off her necklace. She shied away, lowering her eyes. Pulling out the hairpin and letting her fuchsia hair cascade on her waist which, of course, embarrassed her a bit, he pushed his fingers there, playing with her locks. 

They were two in the room, only two. But it doesn’t mean that they weren’t being watched. Through the painted glass door, from outside, another was observing the romantic moment between the husband and his wife. Her deep, black orbs were thirsty like a desert, wishing to get someone to gaze at them in the same way too. Dressed in a long, full-sleeved, column black gown, the redhead was the earth, helplessly moving round the sun and seeing the Mercury spinning, closest to it. Who would fulfill her thirst? 

While the pinkette was brushing her hair, the raven turned back, discovering the redhead out of the door. Spellbound by the red rose wrapped in the black cellophane paper, he proceeded, not being noticed by his wife, yet holding the decorative hairpin. The palm of the redhead lay on the door. He also placed his hand on the glass surface from the other side, his eyes viewed the appearance of the dark scarlet. Curiosity, some infatuation, some obsession were residing in his golden eyes. 

They weren’t even touching each other but the redhead felt that he was roaming through each of her body cells. She couldn’t take the sudden outpour of water in the fire of her desires. Wheeling back, she clutched the crystal flower vase tightly. Her soft fingers bound it so tightly that it couldn’t take the pressure of being hugged, thus getting shattered. Its shards clinked on the marble floor, blood dripped from her fingers and followed it. The redhead gasped, so did the raven. 

Lifting her black eyes, she saw him. No, not the raven. He had royal blue-hair, spiky bangs flurrying in the air, along with the transparent silk curtains guarding him. In his white kimono and hakama pant along with a black belt tied around his waist, he was a sage...no, a holy figure. His deep, azure eyes were watching the redhead, without blinking...as though any deity had been staring at a sinner, with pity. She stormed towards her, leaving the dumbfounded raven-haired guy behind. The fringe of her gown dramatically slithered, unbound scarlet locks blew back. Reaching in front of the blunette, she knelt down, bowing her head. He felt embarrassed, stepping back, with a bit of hesitation. 

However, it did boil the blood of the raven. Clenching his teeth, he threw the hairpin towards the glass door. Penetrating the barrier after crushing it with another clink, it landed outside. Hearing the sound, the pinkette nervously flinched, looking back at her husband. Coming behind her, she placed a hand on his shoulder, worrying what happened to him. Nevertheless, it couldn’t calm down the rage of the neko-jin. The redhead and the blunette gawked at him too, with the same amount of disgrace though the former had a bit of hesitation mixed with it. 

He was her eyesore, she was his. Yet, what made them look back at each other? 

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

Based on one of the most famous works of Tagore it is. Will publish the whole fic in fanfiction.net (Not so soon though). At first, wanted to write with Kai, Hilary, Julia and Tala but I think the pink roseX bumblebeeX red roseX blue butterfly love square is better xD 

What do you think? Share your opinion :P 

[daydreamngs]

From Me Too | George MacKay

requested: Hi! I was wondering if you could write an imagine where the reader is really good friends with florence pugh and florence thinks that the reader and george mackay are perfect for each other so she sets them up and they fall in love from the moment they met? i hope it’s not that confusing hehe love your work btw!! (send me some requests!)

warnings: Fluff 

word count: 2,267

a/n: Thank you so much for sending in this request! ♡ It’s way longer than I had first anticipated it being so I hope that’s okay.

“I’m telling you, Y/N, you and George would really like each other and I’m not just saying that!” It’s the same line Y/N has heard a handful of times before, just with a different variation to it which always made the woman roll her eyes at her friend. Heavy sigh falls from her lips as she leans back in her chair, head rolling to the side as her eyes squinted ever so slightly at Florence who only stared back with a look of mischievous gleaming in her eyes, a faux innocent pout and furrow of her eyebrows. “Flor, I’ve told you, I don’t have time for that stuff right now.” She’s said it so many times that she’d begun to not believe herself anymore. Was she really that busy that she couldn’t even meet the guy? 

The thought of it made her nervous, she hadn’t put herself out there like that in a while and she wasn’t sure if she was really ready to date again after such a long time. Then again, she thought to herself, if she didn’t do it now, the possibility of it ever happening would just get pushed out further and further until she was one of those ladies who never settle down, and just adopts 12 dogs and 4 cats, and maybe a couple of fish too. A groan leaves her lips at the thought of it as her fingers comb through her hair, gripping at the roots while her other hand rested upon the table, her fingertips drumming against the wood. She made the mistake of looking back up to Florence, who smiled encouragingly as if she knew the struggles she was facing in her mind. “You won’t regret this, and if you do, then at least you put yourself out there.” Curse herself for becoming friends with such an amazing, strong-minded person. The hand that was entangled in her hair fell to her lap as she let out a defeated sigh, eyes closing for just a moment, “Fine. I’ll do it.” Little did Y/N know, it was the same struggle on the other side of the line. George was hesitant but still less than she had been to meet him. His reasoning behind not being so sure about this was that it seemed like his career was at a point where he’d be busy a lot of the time. After 1917, he had been reached out to by a lot of companies in the hope he might consider coming for an audition. Not to mention all of the interviews he was still doing with his co-star. So, between that and just trying to live a somewhat normal life with his family, there seemed to be hardly any time for dating at the moment. Don’t get him wrong, though, he wanted to meet this woman named Y/N, he’d heard so much about her from Florence practically bragging up how amazing she was. He wanted to put a face to the name already, as his curiosity was only growing stronger about her. What was the worst that could happen? So, he had finally said yes to the proposal.

Y/N stared at her reflection, nerves balling up in her stomach making it feel like there were a thousand butterflies in her. Her fingertips picked at the fabric of her shirt. This was maybe the worst part about the whole date, picking out the perfect outfit. She liked the one she had on, it was a nice middle ground, not too fancy but also not exactly casual either, but it didn’t stop her from worrying. “Are you sure this looks good?” She fussed, turning around to look at Florence who sat on her bed with a satisfied smile on her face, “Yes, I’m sure. You look beautiful and I’m sure George is going to think the same thing.” In return to her comment, Y/N gave a nod of her head exhaling a big sigh trying to breathe out all of her nerves. She felt beautiful and that gave her some confidence, and as much as she was nervous, she was also excited. It seemed as though it’d been such a long time coming for her to meet the man named George, who supposedly was perfect for her as much as she was for him. At that point, she just wanted to meet him finally. She could feel the palms of her hands growing sweaty as she chewed at the inside of her lip, she began to think about how different they were. He was a brilliant actor, well known for his work and well, she was just Y/N, she wasn’t known for anything. She wasn’t one to be starstruck over celebrities and that much was obvious considering one of her best friends was Florence Pugh, another amazing actress. She couldn’t help but worry that he wouldn’t want to date anyone that wasn’t in the same industry as him as it wouldn’t be easy for him to talk about the struggles, with her not really understanding it in the same way. The idea was silly to think that, and even if he was like that, then he obviously wasn’t the one for her. Though, just as quick as that thought entered her mind, she shook it away with a soft sigh. From what she’s heard about him through Florence, he wasn’t like that, he was really down to earth, a gentleman and very sweet which was highly reassuring to her because she wasn’t sure if she would have accepted otherwise. “I have a great feeling about this, I just know that you two are going to get along so well. I expect to be the first to be told when you two are engaged.” A sharp gasp is heard throughout the room, “Florence!” Y/N’s face had turned an aggressive red, the tips of her ears burning as she shook in her head in disbelief at her friend. By the tone of her voice and faux innocent smile on her face, she could see that Florence was just joking but it was too embarrassing for her. “My God, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were already planning our wedding…” Her hands rub against her pants, trying to soothe herself. A wink is given in Y/N’s direction, a smirk dripping with mischievous, “You never know, maybe I am.”

Any excitement she had felt now vanished in the pit of nerves that was eating at her, her stomach was swirling in a fit. Her fingertips drummed against her thigh as she sat not so patiently. She was very aware of Florence looking at her, “Y/N, it’s gonna be okay. I promise.” The nervous woman gave a nod of her head before letting out a deep sigh, which worked slightly to soothe her. She wondered if George was as nervous as she was. Turns out he was, he had tried about 5 different outfits before he finally settled on one and had fussed with his hair so much that he had to put more hair product in his hair in order for it to look okay again. He hadn’t been this nervous for a date in a while, maybe it was because he hadn’t actually met the woman yet, and Florence hyping her up so much. He seriously felt like a teenage boy going on a date with the prettiest girl in school - a nervous wreck. His stomach was in a fit of butterflies and nerves as he swallowed deeply, exiting his car while checking his watch only to see that he was a little early. This led him to believe she wouldn’t be there yet although what he didn’t know was that Y/N and Florence had also arrived a bit early and were also making their way to the small cafe that Florence decided on. His eyes had been glued on the ground the whole time that he made the small walk from his car to the cafe, and when he looked up, he was very shocked to see the familiar blonde and a face he hadn’t seen before. Quickly putting two and two together, he froze and his eyes grew wide, lips parting. He gazed at the woman he guessed was Y/N, soaking in every feature of hers, finding that he was holding his breath. Cheeks grew hot and turned a shade of pink, his heart just about to burst from his chest. Has he ever seen someone so beautiful? Certainly not … was this what love at first sight was like? Y/N’s eyes scanned her surroundings as she walked, she hadn’t been in this area before but she thought it was beautiful. It seemed very quiet and peaceful, which helped a lot to calm her down quite a bit - she was thankful for it. It wasn’t until her eyes settled in front of her that she found herself coming to a very sudden halt, an explosion of butterflies erupting in her stomach, as she found staring at George. He was a lot taller than she was expecting, as Florence failed to mention it in all the times she spoke about him. His hair was tousled, but not in a messy way if that made any sense and it made her want to run her finger through it. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue and they knocked the breath from her chest. She’d seen maybe one picture of him after begging her friend to show her one - she knows she could’ve just looked him up but that felt weird and wrong - but it really did him no justice. He was stunning. She noted the faint shade of pink that dusted over his somewhat tanned face, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips involuntarily. He was beautiful, and she was completely enamored. She found herself feeling dizzy for a second, could this be love at first sight? Her thoughts mirrored his own. “George! Good to see you, I’m sure you’ve guessed it by now but this is the lovely Y/N I’ve told you so much about.” For a moment, she didn’t really process what was happening until she did, and then she found herself blushing as well, her smile growing but now it had become shy. Her fingers working to tuck her hair behind her ear as she followed her friend closer to him. Her eyes never once left him, and she couldn’t help but notice how he too seemed to have been knocked from deep thought like she had been a moment prior. Meeting one another in the middle, they found themselves gazing into one another’s eyes, having completely forgotten about the world around them, “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Y/N.” George says, his voice deep and smooth, almost like honey, giving Y/N a feeling she couldn’t quite explain. “And you, George.” She responds, offering her hand for him to shake as she suddenly remembers her manners. As he took her hand, she noticed how it was warm and soft, despite the few calluses he had. His touch felt right to her, as did hers to him. It was just like Florence had said, maybe they were perfect for one another.

It was considerably later now, hours have passed since they first sat down. The sun now setting outside which made the dimmed lights in the cafe much more noticeable. They had decided to sit at a table in the corner where it was slightly more private with there being other people there as well. They could both agree that the date was going much better than either of them had expected. Any worried thoughts they’d had before? Vanished the moment they made eye contact with another. A laugh bubbled from Y/N’s chest, finding herself leaning forward at a joke George had made. It was amazing, she had been so nervous and hesitant to even go on the date with him and now she was having an amazing time. She felt so comfortable with him and that was the weirdest part of it all, not usually being so open and comfortable so fast. It really just felt right, almost as though she was a puzzle piece and he was the only part that fit perfectly with her. A happy sigh fell from her lips, tilting her head to the side slightly, “It’s funny, I feel like I know you already from Florence telling me about you, even though I don’t really.” She thinks out loud earning a nod from the man. “I know right? I feel the same way. It’s like I‘ve known you for a while when in reality we’ve only just met.” He says in agreement with a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners and faint dimples appearing. Those were some little things that Y/N had taken note to in the time they’d spent together, finding her eyes would always linger which in return made faint blushes appear on her face. A content smile made its way on her face, resting her chin on the table and propping her chin on the outside of her hand. There’s a moment of silence and it’s comfortable, then she speaks again, “I think I might have to thank Florence later for doing this.” George smiles softly at this, leaning forward slightly too so they were only a few inches apart. Their noses almost brushing together and their lips ghosting over each other's, “When you do, give thanks from me too.”

[lclas]

heLLO everyone! tis i, mon, 26, she/her, est, and ready to party! im a little late to the game but here’s my daughter Lola, the sweetest thing in the world, if you’d like to plot just shoot me a message on discord or here through DMs! 

tw: gang affliations, prison. 

APPLICATION.

* MEG DONNELLY, CISFEMALE + SHE/HER  | you know HARLOW ‘LOLA’ MCCARTHY, right? they’re 20, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, TWO YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to VIOLENT BY CARLOESDAUGHTER like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole BUTTERFLY HARCLIPS FALLING OUT OF LOOSE CURLS, HOT PINK HEELEYS DRUMMING ACROSS HOT PAVEMENT, and THE SKIPS OF AN OLD RECORD PLAYER thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is AUGUST 25th , so they’re a VIRGO, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

STATS.

NAME: harlow ‘lola’ dawn mccarthy

HOMETOWN: boston, MA.

DOB: august 25th, 2000

HEIGHT: 5′3″

SEXUALITY: bisexual

TATTOOS: a blue butterfly on her right side on her ribcage.

FAMILY: mother tatiana mccarthy, father adrian mccarthy, older brother jameson mccarthy, twin brother adrian jr mccarthy.

AESTHETICS.

lavender-honey wafting off freshly released curls bouncing against slender freckle covered shoulders, butterfly hair clips clattering on a wood table being plucked up one at a time by baby blue nails, the drumming of wheels across hot pavement while red raspberry shaved ice drips down ring adorned fingers, soft humming to the spin and skips of an old record player, chunky sneakers lost underneath a twin bed, half smoked pack of menthol cigarettes forgotten on the fairy lit balcony of the second story apartment. 

CLICK HERE FOR AESTHETIC BOARD.

PERSONALITY. 

Lola McCarthy is the pride and joy of her family, the youngest, the only girl, and growing up with two older brothers shaped her into the person she is. At first glance Lola has a childish demeanor, she’s all smiles and retro hairclips, skating around town with her pink heelys with little to no care in the world. But she’s an insanely passionate person, she puts her whole heart into everything she does, work, school, friendships, relationships, she never holds back. She’s kindhearted and sympathetic and can cry on the drop of a hat, but she doesn’t let herself get walked all over, there’s a temper underneath all the smiles and sing-song voice, and when she’s pushed hard enough she’ll snap, and she doesn’t hold back with the cruelty that’s embedded deep in her heart. Lola is an amazing friend, she goes up and above for everyone. In terms of romance she’s a little behind, she’s had a handful of boyfriends but one she ever let herself get close too, but since moving to Irving she’s been hoping to try and take a step in life, she no longer has her brothers overprotectiveness holding her back, and there’s no fear of her father’s not so empty threats towards the boys she brings home if he’s not a fan of them. Lola is a fun-loving spirit who finds the positivity in any situation, and will more than likely rip you a knew one if you push her far enough.

BACKGROUND.

Lola grew up in the southside of Boston with her family, her mother was always around, tending to her and her brothers with as much love that filled her heart, and her father worked at the local boxing gym. When she was young that’s all she knew her father as, the ex-famous boxer, at least famous in southie. He never lost a fight, never threw a game, and always supported his family, build his sons up in his footsteps to be miniature little fighters just like him. It wasn’t until much later in her life did she find out her father wasn’t just a boxer, that he had ties with the local gang in southie, a small criminal organization that got them enough heat to have the FBI coming to their door when she was around fourteen. 

Her father hid his transgressions well, he kept his family out of the business as much as possible, and he adored his little girl more than anything... though the things he did kept him distant, something she can remember easily, how he would be gone at odd hours, how he’d come home and look like a ghost. Her mother would usher her and her brothers away from him, telling her that daddy was tired, little did she know her father was full of guilt, remorse for the things he did just to provide for them. He didn’t feel guilt any longer though, after the FBI came, looking for her father, none of the family knew what had happened, what he’d been involved with, and soon their family name became a scandal on the television, and her father was being put in prison for running alongside the Siridean gang in South Boston. After that they lost everything, the bank foreclosed on the house, her mother had to move her and her brothers to a small shoebox apartment, and everything seemed to get more complicated. Lola tried to keep her head up though, she didn’t want to make things worse for her mother, who was grieving after the loss of their life and the absence of her a husband, a man she thought she knew.

As the years went on their lives began to pick up again, they all worked for what they needed, Lola kept her grades up, she kept her ambitions high, and before she knew it she was out on her own, ready to take on the world, ready to be whomever she wanted to be. Though her brothers hardly let her be on her own, and so rather than moving to New York City all on herself like she thought she could, her and her twin Adrian went to the local community college, and she fell into the routine of listening to her brother, her new father figure. It wasn’t until two years ago she finally broke from her routine, decided enough was enough, and wanted to see the world for what it was... though somehow she ended up in Irving, not New York.

Since coming to Irving Lola’s made a little life for herself, she goes to school part-time, works at Rockin’ & Rollin’ full-time, and is just doing about all she can to enjoy her life. She’s often seen at her place of business even when she’s not working, loving the environment and the party scene, but also can be found around the local parks, enjoying the fresh air and talking to the new faces.

TLDR.

Basically Lola is a sweet girl with daddy issues and a knack for cheering people up. She loves making friends and she loves flirting with them all, she’s always a good shoulder to cry on and she’s always up for a party. She’s shy when it comes to romantic escapades but always open to try, she’s just had a very controlled life. She’s up for any sort of plots, romantic, platonic, even some angry bitch who hates how smiley she is, so just shoot me a message for plots!

[rosepyrearchive]

𝐟𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏

an  experiment  of  posting  a  drabble  a  day,     from  a  few  sentences  to  a  paragraph  or  more.     i  posted  them  on  my  old  blog,     now  i’m  going  to  compile  them  all  here !

i.

fingers  carefully  shift  the  lavender  crystal  in  betwixt  her  thin  fingers.     for  years,      it  had  remained  faithfully  at  the  base  of  her  throat,     the  way  wolves  protect  each  other’s  most  delicate  parts;     her  father  always  did  the  same.     now,      there’s  somewhere  else  she’d  like  to  place  that  power,     that  protection.     what  color  would  the  crystal  turn,     when  placed  in  anakin’s  palm ?     blue,     like   his  eyes,     or  red,     like  the  blood  he  sheds ?     the  choker  she  once  wore,     pastel  colored  velvet  around  her  neck,     has  an  empty  slot  where  she’d  pulled  the  gem  from,     and  now  it  finds  a  new  home  on  a  long  chain  of  beskar;     where  she  imagines  it  will  press  right  in  the  middle  of  his  chest,     beneath  his  tunic    &    tabard.     no  matter  what  becomes  of  him,     or  what  tries  to  hurt  him . . .   the  chain  and  crystal  will  remain.

ii.

in  her  mother’s  arms,     she  is  just  a  daughter,    a  doll.     on  stage,     she  is  better  than  a  mortal  girl,     or  even  the  immortal  one  she  became;     she’s  a  ballerina  in  tufts  of  pink    &    tulle.     i  am  a  good  girl,     even  now  when  they’re  all  in  the  ground.     now  that  the  curtains  of  earth  &  velvet  have  fallen,     though,     who  is  she ?     who  does  she  become,     without  the  pale  pink  ribbons   &    tight  bodice  of  her  costumes ?      the  voice,     the  visions,     the  hallucinations  seem  to  answer  for  her;     a  ghost,    a  hazy,     obscure  daydream  who  cannot  truly  exist.     who  is  she ?     where  does  the  camouflage,     the  eagerness  to  please  end ?     serena  supposes  it  doesn’t  end  at  all;     and  in  that,     she  is  a  russian  doll  of  nothingness.

iii.

she’s  never  seen  him  without  his  helmet.  no  one  has,     serena  imagines  —  not  in  this  state  of  his  life,     where  removing  it  means  deprivation  and  vulnerability;     the  simple  act  and  thought  is  filled  with  an  intimacy  serena  knows  she  could  never  earn  from  him,     but  …     the  yearning  doesn’t  stop,     nor  does  the  longing  and  curiosity  to  see  his  pallid  skin,     scarred  &  tainted,     the  marks  that  must  cover  his  cheeks  and  chest.     where  do  they  end ?     are  they  like  ripples  in  waves  or  a  pattern ?     and  …  when  she  stands  near  him,  does  he  ever  look  at  her ?     the  blackness  of  his  shield  hides  it  all,  and  it  does  it’s  job  in  making  her  nervous;  serena  can  never  stand  still  in  his  presence,  thighs  shaking  and  nails  digging  trench  tracks  into  her  soft  palms.     darth  vader  is  terrible,  awful,  even  cruel  …     so  what  is  it  that  allures  her  so  deeply,  and  why ?     then  again,  if  she  knew,  perhaps  the  shimmering  butterflies  would  subside  and  she  could  see  clearly,     see  this  for  what  it  was.  he  wasn’t  even  using  her  —  and  she  is  the  very  picture  of  devotion.

iv.

to  what  end  does  the  fae  steal  a  fair  maiden ?     or  is  it  truly  a  crime,     when  the  victim  is  so  terribly  willing ?     allie’s  feet  move  so  mesmerizingly,    around  &  around  while  flowers  and  mushrooms   bloom  from  beneath  her  soles;     her  palm  is  so  open  –     ❪   come  to  me,     serena !   ❫     perspiration  of  late  summer  sticks  to  serena’s  forehead,     betwixt  her  rosy  fingers,     ❪   𝙾𝚁  𝙸𝚂  𝚂𝙷𝙴  𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃  𝙽𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚂 ?     𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙴  𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝙳  𝚃𝙾  𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴  𝙷𝙴𝚁  𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻  𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝚆𝙰𝚈 …   ❫     and  without  a  regret,     she  lays  her  hand  in  the  other  girl’s.     she  sups  on  honeyed  milk,     gives  her  name.     the  fairies  covet  gold,     and  what  is  serena,     if  not  well - dressed  in  a  golden  shroud,    from  her  crown  to  the  hem  of  her  long  dress ?     what  does  she  have  to  fear,     when  she  is  magic  all  on  her  own ?     allie’s  hand  lifts  both  of  theirs  high  as  she  twirls  serena  amidst  the  flowers,     and  she  swears  she  can  feel  grass  grow  from  her  steps.

v.

calloused  fingers  dig  deep  into  serena’s  sweet,     soft  dimples;     and  from  her  jaw,    trickles  of  sweet  wine  drip,     down  her  neck,    like  spilled  rubies  on  her  pale  skin.     you  hurt  me,    she  wants  to  say.     you’ve  hurt  me,     and  i  am  the  one  who’s  sorry.     hollis  draws  his  thumb  down  to  her  chin,     leaving  perfect  smudged  fingerprints  across  her  the  way  one  would  drag  their  fingers  across  a  fogged  glass.     his  eyes  are  a  dull,    venomous  green  as  he  calls  her  a  name  that  doesn’t  belong  to  her.    that  isn’t  me,   serena  wants  to  cry.     non,    mon rêve,     you’re  much  prettier  than  she  ever  was,     hollis  would  reply,     because  this  isn’t  the  first  time.     he  squeezes  bruises  into  her  little  arms  as  he  kisses  her,     and  serena  thinks  she  kisses  him  back.

vi.

allow  the  camera  to  pan  upwards,     from  her  pale  pink  ballet  slippers  into  her  soft  cotton  dress,     her  feet  turn  out  in  first  position  as  she  raises  her  hands  into  fourth,     pulled  up  by  soft  silk  strings  by  an  invisible  puppeteer.     the  stage  is  her  church,     a  massive,     all  encompassing  world  of  history  &  grace,     and  then  the  world  becomes  it’s  own  stage;     and  serena’s  performance  is  all  consumed,     like  an  apple  in  the  garden  of  eden.     isn’t  she  so  lovely,     so  flawless,     our  little  ballerina  ornament ?     serena  doesn’t  know  who,     or  what,    controls  her  actions   –   her  lies,     her  pliés.     some  entity  who  refuses  to  present  themselves,     only  bothering  to  choreograph  her  life  &  watch  her  from  behind  the  scenes;     she  is  both  fresh  as  a  flower,     brought  up  in  springtime,     &     as  broken  as  skeletons  that  have  long  withered  to  dusk  in  their  caskets.     even  in  her  most  secluded  moments,     she  does  not  feel  alone   –   not  truly.     this  puppet master  is  always  watching,     writing  their  script,     judging  her  arches  and  how  gracefully  she  can  slide  across  the  floor  in  her  pointe  shoes.     when  she  takes  her  final  bow,     it’s  only  the  studio  mirror  that  gazes  back  at  her,     her  own  doelike  brown  eyes,     her  own  slim  form  –  there’s  no  cables  attaching  her  to  the  ceiling.

this  life  is  so  very  boring,     so  unlike  the  dreamy  world  she  longed  for  as  a  foolish  girl.     i  had  long  ruined  my  own  life  with  my  own  dissatisfaction  before  someone  else  destroyed  it  for  me.

viii.

longing  lurks  deep  behind  a  golden  -  brown  gaze   /   what  comfort  can  she  take  in  the  jedi  code,     when  it’s  cold,    hard …     and  ben’s  hand  is  warm,     all  encompassing ?    the  code,     the  code …     the  temple  is  a  stage,     and  the  council  pulls  her  strings,     but  the  one  thing  they  can’t  take  from  her  is  her  mind;     in  there,     she  is  strong,     stone.     they  encourage  compassion:     but  no  attachments.     what  is  that,     to  her ?    what  is  it  compared  to  the  sunlight  she  feels  in  ben’s  eyes  when  he  leans  down  to  kiss  her  temple,     or  the  delight  serena  can  see  in  him  when  she  enters  the  room ?     ❪  because  love  is  the  death  of  duty,     as  wiser  men  say   ❫     in  many  ways,     she  is  greater  than  other  girls;     a  doll - like  padawan,    bright,     intelligent   –   but  in  the  end,    she  is  still  human,     and  she  finds  no  love  within  the  code   /   only  does  she  find  the  serenity  it  speaks  of  in  ben’s  embrace,     and  the  way  he  bends  over  at  the  waist  to  hold  her,     and  he  is  all  around  her  like  cologne.     that  is  a  glory  &  a  tragedy  worth  dying  for.

viii.

fear  has  always  cut  deep  within  serena’s  soft  skin;     it  was  easy  to  pull  her  apart  like  a  pomegranate,     see  the  little  pin - prick  razors  of  fright,     but  nothing  had  made  her  so  afraid  since  meeting  the  jedi.     she’s  a  fragile  heart  wound  tightly  in  red  ribbons  and  strings,     each  tied  to  the  pinkie  finger  of  every  person  she  loves.     some  of  the  ends  are  cut,     some  fray  towards  the  latter,     but  she  doesn’t  forget.     she  doesn’t  let  go,     not  in  her  deep  heart,     where  they  are  safe.     the  jedi  don’t  agree;     and  her  body  wracks  with  guilt  as  she  resists  placing  ribbons  on  their  fingers.     they  cannot  love  me,     she  knows   /   so  why  isn’t  it  enough  to  stop  her ?

ix.

every  part  of  my  body  aches.       serena  sits  on  the  hard  bathroom  floor  like  a  stain  on  the  tile,     the  tulle  of  her  practice  skirt  shimmering  in  the  dim  fluorescents.     the  plastic  stall  divider  is  freezing  against  her  shoulders,     and  it  hurts  when  her  head  falls  back  against  it.     the  bathroom  is  empty,     but  the  room  is  loud.     DISGUSTING  GIRL.     IT  HURTS.    what  hurts ?     I  CAN’T  FIND  IT  ANYMORE,     IT’S  SPREAD  LIKE  A  POISON.     she  finds  sanctuary  in  her  own  little  white  lies,     and  this  stall  where  none  of  the  other  ballerinas  go  –  she’s  a  soloist,     a  prima;     she  is  special.     allegedly.     she  barely  notices  the  wine - red  trickle  of  blood  that  spills  from  her  nose,     gravity  pulling  it  down  her  perfect  pale  face.      the  relief  is  nearly  instant,     whatever  ache  she’d  had  seems  to  fade  away   /   her  eyes  hone  in  on  the  empty  plastic  bag,     only  remnants  of  white  pill  powder  left.     the  same  resin  seems  to  linger  on  the  tip  of  her  pointe  shoe,     that  she’d  used  to  crush  it  all  up.     the  urge  to  smash  the  wooden  end  of  her  slipper  into  the  stupid  godforsaken  plastic  container  as  hard  as  she  can  and  see  how  much  damage  she  can  do  washes  over  her;     but  she’s  too  shocked  by  the  sudden  violent  urge  to  act  on  it.     instead,     serena  lets  the  clarity  &  ability  to  focus  drown  out  the  voices  that  scream  in  her  tender  head,     and  brings  herself  to  stand.

x.

❪   𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐊  ❫

pink  silk  shimmers  in  the  early  morning  sun;     her  blush  is  just  as  pretty,     sitting  across  from  her  father  at  the  iron  balcony  table.     he  is  her  king,     her  first  love,     and  serena  revels  in  the  attention  her  father  lavishes  on  her.     everything  is  still  so  new,     so  beautiful,     when  she’s  young  –  serena  dreams  of  the  future,     of  white  veils  and  cotillions.     her  distance  isn’t  yet  defensive,     but  a  sweet  daydream,     of  romantic  notions  &  hopes.     serena  dreams  of  the  far  away,     of  paris  and  rushing  crowds.     you  have  the  carlisle  look,     julian  had  told  her,    once.    your  brother  has  it  too.     someday,     this  world  will  be  wrapped  around  your  little  finger.     be  kind  to  it.     serena  had  smiled  so  lovely  at  that  –  let  the  world  be  kind.     let  it  show  her  kindness.

xi.

❪   𝐈𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐘  ❫

this  is  a  private  moment;     but  serena  can  feel  the  hidden  camera  lenses  on  her,     seeking  that  million  dollar  photo of  palpable  grief,     or  the  bullet  hole  in  her  father’s  chest,     as  if  it  weren’t  hidden  from  view  behind  his  favorite  suit.     she  won’t  cry.     serena  had  already  emptied  herself  of  every  golden  tear  when  she’d  cleaned  her  father’s  face,     when  she’d  combed  his  hair.      she  was  the  one  who’d  laid  his  arms  over  his  chest,     with  her  favorite  stuffed  animal  between  them  to  keep  him  company.     august  pulls  all  her  curls  behind  her  head,     and  lays  his  hands  on  her  thin  shoulders,     squeezing  just  enough  to  be  a  reassurance.     a  million  questions  ran  through  her  head  –     every  single  one  beginning  with  why.

her  fingers  drift,     softly,     for  the  last  time,     over  her  father’s  cheek.     she  pretends  it’s  warm  with  life,     and  not  chilling  to  the  bone.     if  he  could  be  killed,     then  no  one  is  safe.

xii.

❪   𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐋  ❫

be  kind  to  the  world.    serena’s  innocence  had  died  screaming,     yet  she  still  remembers  the  words  her  father  had  told  her.     sunlight  streams  through  the  trees  above,     but  she  is  too  stiff  to  move  just  yet;     so  she  lies  there  in  the  grass,     flowers  having  bloomed  over  the  years  of  her  sleep  through  her  hair  and  around  her  body.     a  new  era  has  begun,     everything  she  knows  is  gone.     everyone  she  loves  is  gone.     maybe  it’s  the  haziness  of  first  waking  up  after  a  half - century,     but  there’s  a  determination  beneath  her  silk  skin,     her  ivory  bones.     serena  has  become  something  new,     just  as  the  world  has  –  beneath  the  porcelain,     her  ribs  have  grown  steel.     she  will  not  be  so  breakable  ever  again.

xiii.

in  the  movies,     pearls  are  always  being  yanked  from  necks,     the  precious  little  beads  clattering  to  the  hardwood  floor  in  bunches.     serena  allows  the  pretty  necklace  to  drift  through  her  fingers,     remembering  the  time  her  mother  had  wrapped  it  around  her  neck.     she’d  felt  like  such  a  little madam  in  her  maman’s  pearls.     there’s  a  little  secret:     those  pearls  in  films,     dramatic  as  they  were,     were fake.     maman’s  were  genuine,     and  the  little  pieces  were  knotted  in  between,     meaning  even  if  she’d  ripped  them  from  her  throat,     only  one  or  two  at  worst  would  go  missing.     her  mother  was  too  much  of  a  lady,     anyway …     prone  to  melancholy  and  hurt,     but  not  quite  fits.     what  a  complicated  love,     the  one  between  a  mother  &  a  daughter …     serena  finds  herself  missing  her  mother’s  arms  more  often  than  not  these  days,     and  the  security  that  came  with  them.

xiv.

valentine’s  day  has  always  been  a  non - affair  romantically;     her  favorites  were  dinner  dates  with  her  family,     the  men  being  the  gentlemen,     and  the  one  day  her  maman  would  let  her  wear  her  red  lipstick.     the  couples  on  the  street  below  her  balcony  make  her  feel something,    but  is  it  jealousy,   or  nostalgia ?     her  palm  cradles  her  jaw  as  she  leans  against  the  iron  barrier.     a  man  kisses  a  woman,     and  why  does  her  heart  lurch  for  something  so  impossible ?    to  love,     to  be  loved …     she  would  never  be  capable  of  it,     her  last  boyfriend  had  told  her  so.     adam  had  as  well.     anyone  who  would  want  to  spend  this  day  with  her  is  dead,     and  no  one  else  could  accept  the  things  she’d  done,     the  person  she’s  become  beneath  the  lace  and  ribbons.     hallowed,     broken.

xv.

i   hate  the  dirt.     i  hate  the  grime  that  i  can’t  wash  away,     and  the  fingerprint  i  leave  on  the  pristine  envelope  that  the  postman  gives  me,     his  gaze  apologetic.     until  i  look  at  the  handwriting,     i  don’t  understand  why.     it’s  been  a  week  since  he  could  last  reach  us  on  the  battlefield,     to  give  us  some  form  of  comfort  and  relief,     and  he  only  gives  me  a  single  letter.     there  should  be  more.     serena  writes  to  me  every  day,     there  should  be  at  least  six  or  seven,     all  beginning  with  my  dearest  brother;     but  even  the  single  letter  isn’t  from  my  sister,     but  my  wife.     i  should  be  excited  for  that,     but  i’m  not  –  not  when  i  can’t  fathom  why  there’s  only  this  one  letter.     when  i  tear  into  it,     a  picture  falls  out:     my  wife,     holding  our  son.     this  is  a  happy  moment,     and  i  can  feel  pressure  build  behind  my  eyes,     but  it’s  distracted,     because  serena  should  be  in  this  photo.     she  isn’t,     because  for  some  godforsaken  reason  she’s  here  in  europe  –  and  that’s  enough  to  push  the  tears  from  my  eyes.     i  should  be  there,     and  serena  should  be  holding  her  nephew  and  accepting  our  request  to  be  his  godmother.

but  she  isn’t,     and  i’m  not  either.

xvi.

the  streets  of  new  york  now  aren’t  so  different  from  the  streets  of  new  york  in  my  childhood.     the  fashion  is  different;     women  wear  shorter  skirts,     deeper  cuts  to  expose  their  collarbones,     and  these  are  changes  i  like.     the  buildings  still  creep  into  the  clouds  like  pillars  of  divinity,     and  the  sidewalks  are  crowded,     but  no  one  pays  too  much  attention  to  anyone  else.     the  men  dress  differently  too,     and  those  changes  i  don’t  like,     but  if  i  sit  and  close  my  eyes …     it’s  still  all  the  same,     and  i  can  picture  the  cars,     the  pretty  women  and  handsome  men …     even  my  silly  little  girl  friends,     the  ones  who  would  walk  with  me  during  breaks  in  ballet  when  we  had  so  little  else  to  do.     when  i  close  my  eyes,     it  doesn’t  feel  like  a  lifetime  ago.

xvii.

it  happens  gradually,     then  all  at  once,     like  the  impatience  of  waiting  for  a  rose  to  blossom.     one  day  you  wake  up,     and  it’s  simply  bloomed,     petals  spread  wide  in  the  sunshine.     in  that  case,     serena  wonders  which  moment  it  was  that  made  her  realize  her  feelings  for  ben  had  flowered   ──   was  it  the  time  his  fingers  grazed  hers  on  the  piano  keys,     and  he  played  the  wrong  note  to  make  her  laugh ?     or  perhaps  when  he  smiled  at  her  so  earnestly,     all  white  teeth  and  curled  lips  that  met  the  crinkles  by  his  eyes ?     she  can’t  pinpoint  the  exact  moment  she  realized  she  loves  ben  kenobi;     serena  only  knows  what  she  feels  now,     the  safety  of  his  warm  hugs,     the  way  the  word  ‘graves’  slips  between  her  teeth  and  she  doesn’t  choke  trying  to  reel  it  back  in.     home  was  something  impossible,     turned  to  ash  &  bone,     but  then  she  finds  herself  sitting  at  their  table  in  the  coffee  shop  &  she  thinks  perhaps  a  home  can  be  rebuilt.

xviii.

prayer  used  to  come  first  thing  in  the  morning,     a  mantra  spoken  breathlessly  to  open  air.     it’s  not  an  ideology  that  serena  subscribes  to  anymore     ❪   part  of  her  wonders  if  she  ever  did   ❫ ,     but  old  habits  had  died  hard.     she  wants  to  enjoy  a  new  one.     ben  is  there,     barely  awake  while  thick  raindrops  smack  against  the  balcony  doors,     and  serena  shimmies  his  boxers  down  his  thighs.     she’s  already  asked  him  nicely,     with  her  polite  manners  and  pretty  mouth     ──     and  she  tries  to  mask  her  eagerness  with  languid  movements,     laying  her  cheek  to  his  hip  and  letting  her  long  curls  fall  over  his  body.     serena  knows  he  can  feel  her  by  the  way  he  shudders  when  her  eyelashes  flit  over  him,     her  rose - petal  fingers  everywhere  and  nowhere  because  they  aren’t  exactly  where  ben  wants  them.     you  should  tell  me  what  you  like,    serena  offers  with  a  wicked  little  smile,     dragging  his  hand  until  he  can  grip  her  curls,     holding  sunshine  in  his  palms.

xix.

when  the  legs  beat  against  each  other  in  the  midst  of  a  jete,     it’s  a  battu  jete …     beaten.     everything  is  more  beautiful  in  french,     and  serena  thinks  it’s  true  of  herself  as  well.     she  had  been  her  company  director’s  little  princess,     sliding  into  his  queen;     she  would’ve  been  the  youngest  prima  ballerina  in  history.     she  would’ve  had  a  life.     she  would’ve  had  a  brother.     orson  does  so  much  for  her,     and  serena  can  hardly  find  it  in  herself  to  be  grateful,     can  hardly  repeat  the  pleasantries  and  manners  she’d  been  taught  to  sing  since  she  was  a  little  girl  letting  words  tumble  from  her  mouth.     instead,     serena  tries  to  create  a  peaceful  world,     she  jumps  at  the  chance  to  redesign  the  building  he  buys,     create  a  setting  of  her  own  making;     only  to  lay  under  the  covers,     sleeping  next  to  a  pillow  she  pretends  is  august.

xx.

disgusting.     vile.    serena  watches  august  rip  a  newspaper  in  half,     once,     twice,     then  three  times,     letting  the  pieces  fly  onto  the  floor  and  cover  the  coffee  table.     the  headline  had  once  read  about  her,     calling  her  a  top  three  debutante  in  new  york’s  uppercrust  society.     not  just  in  the  top  three,     but  ranked  number  one.    shouldn’t  we  be  proud ?    serena  asks  him.    shouldn’t  i  be  flattered ?     august  had  fallen  to  his  knees  in  front  of  the  chaise  where  she  sat  after  that,     holding  her  little  hands  in  his  own.     he  squeezes  them  so  tight  serena  winces.    tell  me,     he  begs.     tell  me  if  anyone  ever  touches  you.     tell  me,     and  i’ll  kill  them.    with  all  the  naivety  in  the  world,     serena  giggles,     shaking  her  head.     nonsense,     my  darling  brother.     the  only  man  i  love  is  you;     and  the  only  man  who  shall  ever  touch  me  is  not  here  yet.

xxi.

the  sunlight  doesn’t  seem  so  bright,     but  the  city  is  just  as  bustling  as  the  last  time  she’d  seen  it.     what  year  had  that  been ?     somewhere  around  nineteen  forty,     serena  thinks.     her  old  ballet  studio  has  moved;     it’s  previous  location  now  just  another  parking  lot  in  new  york  city.     everything  about  it  gives  her  whiplash.     it’s  all  the  same  and  all  entirely  different.     she  almost  expects  to  see  august  across  the  street,     handsome  smile  &  hair  swept  back,     but  she  knows  she  won’t.     he’s  dead,     and  so  is  everyone  else  she  ever  knew.     there’s  a  pressure  on  her  shoulders,     wondering  when  someone  will  notice  the  imaginary  blood  seeping  out  of  her  core,     or  when  someone will  realize  she’s  half - dead.     little  walking  dead  girl,     schrodinger’s  girl,     dead  and  alive.

xxii.

photographs  from  another  era  are  spread  all  across  the  wooden  table  serena  sits  at,     glimmering  and  shining  in  their  black  and  white  glory,     sepia,     and  even  a  few  colored  ones.     they  all  had  a  touch  of  grain  to  them,     the  consequence  of  new,     unperfected  technology,     but  serena  adores  them.     after  all,     in  every  photo  she  sees  the  face  of  someone  she  loves.     her  grandfather  royce,     cradling  the  toddler  version  of  herself  in  his  arms,     and  then  them  at  a  later  age,     serena  with  her  arms  wrapped  tightly  around  him.     in  another  photo,     serena  sits  in  his  lap,     while  her  grandmother,     the  woman  for  whom  she  was  named,     hugs  them  both  from  behind.     so  many  lost  smiles,     shining  with  no  idea  of  what’s  to  come.     her  finger  traces  along  another  photo,     of  her  mother  posing  with  her  in  her  first  pair  of  pointe  shoes.     she’d  been  so  proud  that  day,     and  serena  can’t  help  but  smile  back  at  her.     these  little  moments  are  all  she  has  left  now;     what  if  she  forgets  it  all  someday ?     at  least  she  won’t  forget  their  faces.     serena  glues  the  back  of  the  photos,  pasting  them  into  a  scrapbook.     there  are  new  people  she  doesn’t  want  to  forget  someday  as  well,     and  for  them,     serena  glances  at  a  newer  camera.     she  doesn’t  have  to  forget.

xxiii.

moy  lebed.    my  swan.    mr.  nikolaev  calls  her  that,     from  the  first  moment  he  saw  her  complete  the  thirty - two  fouettés  in  odile’s  coda.     serena  sighs  into  the  open  studio.     the  sky  has  long  gone  dark,     and  every  other  dancer  and  crew  member  has  gone  home — but  she  remains.     this  is  the  dedication  that  will  make  me  the  prima,     serena  reminds  herself.     this  is  what  sets  me  apart.     she  counts  the  steps  in  her  head  until  she  loses  herself  to  the  imagined  music,     eyes  closed  while  she  moves  her  arms  and  tip - toes  across the  floor.     serena  is  the  very  picture  of  a  music  box  ballerina  when  she  kicks  her  foot  up,      finding  her  north  star  and  turning  in  pirouettes.     not  even  the  quiet  opening  of  a  door  interrupts  her  focus.     august  takes  her  little  waist  in  his  hands  and  helps  to  give  her  the  extra  momentum.     then  he  hoists  her  over  his  shoulder,     telling  her  how  mother  is  so worried,    and  she  has  to  come  home  right  away…     all  spoken  with  his  hidden,    wry  smile.

xxiv.

i  had  never  tried  to  impress  anyone  the  way  i’d  tried  to  impress  mr.  nikolaev,     my  ballet  master  and  choreographer.     my  every  waking  moment  was  spent  under  his  scrutinizing  gaze,     attempting  to  dissect  his  utter  dissatisfaction  with  the  world  for  it’s  lack  of  grace  and  beauty  and  what  he  felt  towards  me  specifically …     all  in  a  leotard  and  tights  that  would  only  leave  the  color  of  my  skin  to  our  imaginations,     and  mirrors  on  every  wall  reminding  me  of  that  fact.     i  don’t  know  if  i  tried  harder  to  gain  his  attention  in  the  first  place,     or  if  i  would  have  killed  myself  trying  to  keep  it.     no  girl  is  ever  more  beautiful  than  they  are  at  sixteen,     and  though  i  didn’t  realize  it,     perhaps  if  i  had  lived  to  see  him  again  in  my  later  years  he  would’ve  been  impressed  with  my  freckles,     my  dimples,     and  my  big  eyes  at  the  age  of  twenty ��–  i’ve  heard  i  don’t  look  so  different.     still,     i  was  even  more  girlish  then  than  i  am  now,     and  three  times  as  shy ;     ballet  was  all  i  could  use  to  get  him  to  look  at  me,     to  make  him  pay  attention  &  perhaps  remember  why  he  took  this  job  in  the  first  place  after  his  own  short,     but  famed  career.     i  would  be  perfect ;     not  just  for  him,     but  for  myself.     it  didn’t  hurt  anything  that  i  was  his  little  prima  prodigy.     he  smiled  for  the  first  time  when  he  called  me  his  moy  lebed,     his  swan,     and  i  can’t  remember  the  last  thing,     even  now,     that  had  made  my  heart  soar  so  much.

xxv.

‘are  you  ready?’     on  the  cusp  of  spring  in  the  midst  of  march,     lies  serena’s  birthday.     thirteen  is  such  a  special  age  for  a girl ;     not  quite  a  woman  yet,     not  quite  a  girl  anymore,     but  leaving  the  throes  of  childhood  behind.     august’s  question  comes  with  an  excited  edge  to  his  voice  and  a  slim  box  in  his  hands,     with  pink  wrapping  paper  and  white  ribbons.     the  other  guests  at  the  party  had  long  dissipated,      and  serena  sits  on  the  edge  of  her  bed,     feet  swinging  back  and  forth  to  dissipate  a  bit  of  the  thrill  she  feels.    ‘i’ve  been  waiting  all  day!’     is  what  serena  replies,     taking  the  gift  into  her  lap.     her  brother  sits  down  next  to  her ;     he’s  twenty,     seven  years  older,     and  a  man  grown,     but  it’s  as  if  there’s  no  difference  between  them  as  august  wraps  his  arm  around  her  waist,     matching  brown  eyes  gleaming  as  he  watches  her  carefully  pry  apart  the  paper  to  reveal  a  box  of  velvet.     ‘it’s  sentimental,’     august  had  said,     as  to  why  he  couldn’t  let  her  open  it  amongst  the  guests.     private,     serena  thinks.     her  brother  was  always  a private  man.     when  she  lifts  the  lid,     and  august  uses  his  other  hand  to  fold  away  the  white  paper,     it  reveals  a  precious,     heart - shaped  golden  locket.     he  pulls  it  out  by  the  chain,     letting  the  pendent  rest  in  serena’s  palms.     ‘it’s  the  most  beautiful  thing  i’ve  ever  seen,’     serena  says,     eyes  glimmering.     august’s  fingers  snap  the  clasp,     and  inside,     a  photo  of  himself  on  one  side,     and  then  a  photo  of  their  parents  from  their  wedding  day  on  the  other.     serena  beams  as  august  closes  it  then  places  the  necklace  around  her  neck,     the  pendent  falling  just  at  her  collarbones.    ‘it’s  beautiful,     my  wonderful  brother,’     she  says,     and  august  kisses  her  crown.     ‘it’s  almost  as  lovely  as  you,     my  sweet  little  sister,     and  you  deserve  lovely  things.     this  way,     we’ll  always  be  with  you.’

xxvi.

julian’s  wedding  band  was  like  him ;     it  was  a  simple  golden  band,     with  ivy  growing  around  it,     interrupted  only  by  a  diagonal  line  of  diamonds.     when  serena  tilts  it  back,     she  can  see  her  mother’s  name  engraved  in  it.     eirene’s  was  a  little  flashier,     with  a  bigger  diamond  in  the  center.     it  wasn’t  because  of  her  personality,     though …     in  that,     serena  can  still  see  her  father,     wanting  to  impress  her,     wanting  to  give  his  wife  the  world.     julian’s  ring  occupies  her  left  thumb ;     she  couldn’t  bear  to  get  it  resized  for  her  dainty  hands,     so  it’s  the  best  she  could  manage.     he’d  had  a  lithe  frame,     and  for  that  she’s  thankful  –  serena  remembers  sliding  the  ring  off  of  his  finger  when  she’d  crossed  his  arms  over  his  chest,     holding  it  between  her  fingers.     she  had  to  have  it.     her  mother  had  worn  hers  until  the  very  last,     until  she  had  slipped  from  serena’s  hand  into  the  ocean’s  embrace.     serena  had  only  been  able  to  just  clasp  the  ring,     before  it  too  could  fall  from  her  grasp.     now,     it  rests  on  her  index  finger,     where  at  least  on  her  hands,     her  parents  could  still  be  together.

[venusxxlangdon]

Hi wifey, can you pretty please write me a drabble for cockwarming Duncan while he’s busy at work in his home office? (The desire for Daddy Duncan is real lately.)

I’ve got carried away.....a little.....

You sneak into a long corridor and then make your way towards a wooden door. Twisting the doorknob, you step inside Duncan’s office and you can’t help a smile spreading across your lips at the sight of him siting in a leather chair and typing away on his laptop. His brows are frowned, as he tries to follow all the graphs for the app he’s been working on for ages. You bite your lower lip, admiring his long fingers, caressing the keyboard, freezing above the black buttons when he takes time to think over the data. He rubs his scruffy chin when he notices a mistake, and you suppress a frustrated sigh. He looks too good to be real. The screen illuminates his blue eyes and soft brown hair styled in messy waves.

“Duncan,” you announce your presence, shutting the door behind your back. He turns his head at you, and a warm smile paints his pink, plump lips.

“Hey, princess,” he cooes, and you stomach drops at the sound of a nick name that rolled off the tip of his tongue so casually. You can already feel the wetness spread between your thighs and soaking a thin material of tiny panties under your favorite pink La Perla slip.

“I thought you were done with work,” you said, approaching him with long strides and stopping at the corner of his desk, resting your thigh against it. “Daddy, I need you in bed with me...” You leaned forward, hovering over his laptop and blocking the screen with multiple, never-ending tables and reports he needs to take care of.

“Darling, I know,” he scoffs, petting your cheek with his Cartier clad fingers. The cool of his rings feels soothing against your flushed skin. It almost gets impossible to handle the throbbing ache in your pussy. You sense the sexual tension between you two; you can taste it on your tongue, it tingles in the pads of your fingers, and makes your heart beat faster like a trapped hummingbird. “Daddy needs to work a bit more, and then I’ll be all yours...”

You know that he needs to work. You know that this app is goddamn important, but you also need to feel him so bad that your vision gets clouded with lust and desire for him.

“But I need you now,” you pout, and it’s embarrassing to act like a little kid who can’t get her favorite toy, but who can blame you? “Please?” You give him your best puppy-eyed look, and he chuckles. “I just want to feel you.”

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He leans back on his chair, giving you some space between him and his desk, and pets his thigh.

“Drop your panties and come sit on Daddy’s lap,” the tone of his voice sounds lower this time, seduction dripping like melted honey, and you gulp heavily; the butterflies in your stomach are about to rip your insides apart. Your eyes are locked with his, when your fingers hook the waistband of your panties and slide them down your legs.

“I’m going to finish my work,” he starts undoing his pants, and your breath hitches when he pulls his half-hard cock out and gives it a couple of strokes, “and you need to be a good girl and wait until I’m done, okay, baby?”

You nod and hurry up to straddle his thighs. His strong protective arms immediately wrap around your waist. You reach down for his cock beneath your leaking pussy and slowly guide it towards your slick entrances.

“Breathe,” he whispers in your ear, his curls tickle the nape of your neck, “no rush, baby.”

Your breast is lifting up and down dramatically, as you try to steady yourself, sinking down on his length, savoring every inch of his cock with your pussy. Even though you’re dripping with arousal, the sensation still burns a little at the delicious stretch. You use your free hand to grab his palm and put it on your lower abdomen, so he could feel himself inside you. You let out a deep sigh once you are fully settled, and he kisses your shoulder, drawing lazy circles on your tummy.

“Daddy,” you cry out, shutting your eyes tightly and throwing your head back against his chest.

“Just like that, baby,” he pressed his lips to a sensitive spot behind your ear, collecting the beads of sweat, “such a good princess for me. You are taking Daddy so well.”

You moan, and grind down on him, but he gets a strong grip of your hips and holds you in place.

“You’ve got what you wanted, love,” his other hand moves up to your left breast and squeezes it through the silk fabric, “now I’ll take care of my business and do you afterwards.”

Your head lolls forward, and you moan brokenly, wishing you could move. Just a slightest friction would be enough to send you over the edge. You feel so full, so stretched out; hot salty tears start forming in the corners of your eyes.

“Okay, I’ll be good,” you whisper, and he gets back to work.

You don’t know how much time has passed. It feels like eternity. It’s a torture, and you can’t help yourself. You are drowning in this overwhelming sea of pleasure sitting on Duncan’s cock, being split in two. This ecstasy makes you whimper quietly, under your breath, and keep trying to rock your hips. The knuckles of your fingers turns white from how hard you are gripping onto his desk.

“Y/N, don’t be a greedy brat,” he warns you, and you bite on your lip so hard it almost hurts, “or I’ll have to teach you a lesson”

“Maybe that’s what I want, Daddy?”

Tagging some Duncan’s girls who might like it @sammythankyou @1-800-bitchcraft @cocosfern @langdvnshepherd

Gif credit to whoever ctreated this masterpiece

[insensitivesurgeon7]

Original strange story

‹ Always with me ›

❤️Woman/Womаn❤️

Valeria/Emilia

rating: PG-13

genres: drama, romance

warnings: ER, POV, death of the main character, non-linear narrative

———————

— How far can you go?

— Well, at least smile at me, at such an important moment.

— Look, you're glowing!I don't know what it is, but it definitely suits you.Always be like this.

The performances of the terrible! The audience is not interested in this at all, on the contrary, they look at me with horror and disgust, turn pale and burst into screams at what is happening on the stage. Insultingly. Am I making such an effort for such uneducated trash? No one appreciates my efforts, no one except...

Emiliа.

She never missed a single performance of mine, never took her burning eyes off the stage, and looked right into my soul. A bright ray stood out in the crowd of gray and gloomy gentlemen, almost jumping out of the chair in the first row and breaking her voice in one and the same phrase: "encore!"

— And now, ladies and gentlemen, the real horror of this neighborhood will be on the scene. Many lost their minds just seeing it!

The audience was simply dumbfounded, not knowing what else to expect this evening. Some covered themselves with their hands, and others wrapped themselves in their clothes, so as not to see even greater horrors. But that's what they came for, isn't it? So why are sobs and angry exclamations heard instead of cheers?

But only the tiny girl in the front row was waiting with lively interest for the miracle I had prepared especially for her. I removed the fake smile from my face and put on a genuine, real one that was meant only for her.

It's strange, but I don't remember what happened after the intermission. Right now, I'm standing at the door of the dressing room, not understanding how I got here. There was no memory of me going up to my room. Only the people actively moving towards the exit; the head of that old lady with wide eyes, which I held so carefully in my hands; the floorboards stained with dirty blood; the bright image of Emilia…

Still, I burst into the dressing room with a cry of joy, plopping down in an old ragged chair with gold upholstery on the uneven edges. I couldn't help but laugh out loud, throwing my head back. Why was I having so much fun? I suppose I was amused by the ladies, who were as pale as toadstools, who threw up their hands in fright, and who, forgetting their proprieties, screamed like slaughtered pigs. But the laughter didn't last long. I stopped abruptly and looked at the floor mirrors. I liked the reflection: my glasses had slid sideways; my hair, which had been so neatly arranged a few hours ago, was completely disheveled; my shirt was soaked with the blood of the old lady who had been so impudent.

I grinned even harder, my uneven smile with crooked teeth looking creepy, and my gaze, wild and triumphant, lingered in the background. A skeleton in a worn maroon dress and a dark wig with dirty patches.

— How do I look? — Emilia was busy twirling around the mirror, looking at herself from different angles. The full silk dress suited her immensely, and the hem of it rose above the tiled floor as she danced, exposing her pale little legs. She looked like a fragile butterfly whose wings were scorched by a scarlet flame.

— Honey, you look beautiful! — There was no lie in what I said, I really thought she looked amazing. Although in fact, it always looks like this.

— Oh, dear, are you here yet? How did you manage to get here before me?

I got up and went to my beloved, kneeling across from her and taking the leather-gloved hand in my palm, gently stroking the uneven surface with my fingers and gazing in awe at the empty eye sockets.

— Emilia, how do you like my performance? Did you like it? I tried my best, really! — She didn't say anything, just tilted her head, and the wig slid to the right. — Why aren't you talking? Did I do something wrong? I thought I had prepared only the best…

She doesn't answer, why? Did she enjoy it so much that she was speechless? Or is it so bad that she won't talk to me? But wait…

My head is full of holes. How could I forget our anniversary? I slapped my hand against my forehead, looking down guiltily. — Now you must be offended with me." You know what, let me fix it! I'll have a small dinner for the two of us, with your favorite music playing. Just give me some time, okay? — I looked at Emilia with pleading eyes, and I thought she was breaking down a little, but she nodded slightly. Or was it my imagination? .No.

— How soon? — Emilia tapped her heel impatiently, fidgeting with the bandage.

I untied the tight knot of the ribbon, and Emilia closed her eyes for a moment, shielding her hand from the bright light. At the same moment, her eyes widened at what she saw.

— You… Did you do all this? — she gazed with fascination at the ornate gazebo I'd been working on day and night for so long, given its taste. She always wanted a gazebo on this hill next to the twin oaks, and with a view of the cemetery.

— Do you like? - the smile did not leave my face, the pleasant surprise in Emilia's eyes made me happy. She didn't say anything, just came over and hugged me tightly, murmuring her thanks in a low voice. It was an important gift for her. I never understood why she wanted it so much, she only spoke in vague riddles that I never understood.

I stroked her hair, lifted her in my arms, and sat her down in the big chair, getting as close to her face as I could, feeling her hot breath and the tips of her dark brown hair tickling my cheeks.

— We have the whole night at our disposal... — My voice became eerily low, piercing the silence of the night. In an instant, the reddened Emilia smiled at the corners of her mouth, enticing me into a kiss with her soft pink lips…

The air was cool, and it enveloped my legs and crawled slowly down my back, penetrating my sensitive areas, feverishly tickling my skin. All life seemed to have died out: there was no sound of the confused rustle of leaves that sometimes fell to the ground, no cry of night birds that suddenly appeared from behind the trees, and even the old guard singing sailor songs, even he seemed to be gone.

But to be honest, I didn't care at all. But worried whether it Emiliа?

— The sky is unusually clear today, and the stars seem to Shine brighter today. — Trying to start a conversation and filling the glasses with sweet wine, I took a small SIP, watching the behavior of my beloved. Who behaved... in no way. Her skeleton was leaning back against the carved back of a chair, and her wonderfully shaped skull was hidden behind the remnants of artificial hair. She sat at a little distance from me and looked like a statue ready to shatter at any moment.

There was no response, and the silence was annoying.

I couldn't help laughing as I fiddled with the crystal glass filled with sparkling cherry liquid: too much resemblance to the blood of Emilia. So sweet, with a metallic taste, I remember there was a lot of it…

— Your death pleases me, because now we can always be together! Isn't that great?!

In my arms rested a cooling, lifeless body, dripping blood and staining everything possible. Her eyes were glassy, and there was a pain in them that pleased me so much. Still, I was a little disappointed.

— You promised to die with a smile on your face and a ringing laugh, welcoming a new world for yourself with open arms, so why did you scream and struggle, showering me with curses and bitter tears?

It was as if I felt my beloved's gaze on me, the emptiness of her once-bright brown eyes tearing at my soul, making me shudder with unpleasant memories. She still hasn't said a word. I was beginning to worry about it.

— Oh, honey, are you still mad?I have forgiven you for your incomprehensible affair, so be consistent. — the corners of his mouth twitched convulsively, the glass swayed in a trembling hand, and a scarlet drop fell on the snowy tablecloth, spreading across the rough patterns.

— Stop following me! I told you everything yesterday! We are no more!

— You seem to have forgotten something, my dear — there was a short click, and the revolver in my hand was aimed at a tall, slender young man with large blue eyes.

- No!..

Suppressing a sudden surge of anger, I tried to smile amiably, but I could feel my face shuddering, contorting into a terrible grimace.

— Why are you silent? We see each other so rarely, and the luxury we are allowed now will not come for a long time. So why don't you use it? — She didn't even look at me. What am I talking about, she didn't even touch the holiday table!

— Please say a word! Is that so much to ask?! — My left eye twitched nervously, the first tears came to the corners, and my voice trembled treacherously. I didn't like it, but Emilia seemed to enjoy it. Why do I hear her low, angry laugh?!

I swallowed hard and tried to keep my composure, but it didn't work. I stood up and walked resolutely toward Emilia, hovering over her skeleton, which seemed to me to have shrunk in size. Hot tears ran down my cheeks and into my mouth, and my chest ached, and my laughter was unhealthy.

— Y-You... you like hurting me, don't you? — choking back tears and laughing hysterically, I barely managed a few more words. — Answer me! — I must have looked pathetic from the outside.

No attention, but there was a mocking look directed at me, at my hands, or rather at my prosthetics.

— Are you so concerned that you cut off your own hands?!

— Answer me, you insensitive bitch!— I took her chin in my hand and looked into her empty eye sockets. Oh, my dear, where is your charming gaze? What happened to your velvety voice that soothed me in the evenings? And your delicate skin, pale and sore, where did it go, do you want to tell me?

It was very painful. Very. I've never felt such pain in my life. I couldn't see much because of the tears, and the bubbling, broken laughter tore at my chest.

Something cold touched my face, wiping away tears. These were the knuckles of Emilia's fingers, painfully prickling at the corners of my reddened, I'm sure, eyes. My hand held tight to the radius of my beloved, as if afraid to lose it again, afraid to let go, and the brush of a somewhat yellowed bone soothed my cheeks, and I felt a little relieved.

— Forgive me… Please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry ... — I whispered endlessly, burying my face in the crumpled fabric somewhere in the area of my collarbone, my free hand clutching the fragile piece of bone.

— It's our holiday, isn't it? — I looked at Emilia's face with genuine love as I got up from my knees. — We haven't lost anything yet, so let's dedicate ourselves to each other under these sparkling stars!

— This is my favorite artist playing! Lehr, let's dance!

Everyone was looking at us that night.

Light jazz began to play, and Emilia's favorite tune turned on. You could see that she brightened and seemed to straighten up. I asked her to dance by pulling on me, and she plopped her skull on my neck, and I just giggled. She's funny. Trying to keep my balance, I put one hand on her waist and the other connected with the bone of her wrist, and she bent over and looked at me. I could see her confusion.

We began to circle slowly to the music, keeping our eyes on each other. Even though Emilia no longer had them, I still knew that she was looking at me, and only at me.

— You will always be with me.

———————

[starryeyedsweetheart]

Denial is the First Step

Author: @starryeyedsweetheart​

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski & Reader

Word Count: 3578

Notes: first story in a while, first stiles fic ever, first writing piece ive been proud about in a while so enjoy ;)

“I don’t know what you see you in him,” Lydia says from her perched position on the locker beside mine. She shakes her head and makes a disapproving sound before muttering something along the lines of how sketchy Stiles Stilinski is. “Have you ever seen that kid without Scott McCall? It’s like he only exists because his best friend is his life source.”

“I think I saw Stiles in the woods once without him,” I reply while attempting to take out a textbook form the bottom of the pile that is my mess of a locker. Struggling a bit, I look up to my friend Lydia, who could only peer at Stiles from above her magazine, almost like she didn’t want him to think he’s worthy enough to be looked at by her.

“Of course you saw him,” she mutters to herself. “You were probably looking for him.”

I pull the book from the bottom a binder and a couple notebooks tumbling out along with it. The loud sound causes some people to turn and stare, but I could only gawk at Lydia. “I went for a run. I was not looking for him.”

“You’re always looking for him.”

“I am not!”

“I just want you to admit you like him.”

“I don’t,” I tell her for what feels like the thousandth time this week. Lydia would always taunt me over this crush I had for the most spastic boy in school, but I would always deny it. I mean, whatever feelings I have for this kid cannot be...real.

After shoving the fallen school supplies back into my locker for them to fall out another time, I look over my shoulder to see Stiles still standing at the end of the hallway with his best friend Scott. His pink lips were pulled into a dopey smile, his happiness causing my heart to skip a beat. Even from down the corridor, I could hear his angelic laughter and the beautiful melody of it. Stiles’s hand clasps down on Scott’s shoulder as the pair chortle like they were in their own world. He wipes away a tear from how hard he was laughing, and I could feel an army of butterflies spaz in my stomach.

“You’re pathetic, Y/N.” Lydia’s voice snaps me out of my daydreaming. As she looks at me, her lips were pursed and her magazine was now hugged to her chest so she could give me her full attention.

“I don’t like him like that,” I repeat. My friend opens her mouth, about to say something snarky before she looks over me and smirks.

Following her gaze, I turn slightly to see Stiles walk down the hallway, a grin plastered to his face as he fiddles with the strap of his backpack. My breath hitches in my throat and I feel my palms turn sweaty against my books as his brown eyes suddenly meet mine. In that one small moment, it feels like time stops. Never in my life have I felt my heart slow down and speed up all at once. It was like I didn’t know what to feel, but I did know it felt right to have his eyes focused on me, despite the nervousness bubbling inside of me.

And just like that, time went back to normal and his eyes pass over me. Before he disappears around the corner, he turns his head one more time, a nervous smile playing with the corner of his mouth before leaving completely.

Lydia nudges me as soon as he’s gone. “Oh my God, he just looked at you.”

“Oh wow. We made eye contact. I think that means a marriage proposal is on its way,” I say, voice dripping with sarcasm. I shut my locker and Lydia rolls her eyes.

“We’re gonna look for him after school.”

“Um, no. No, we are not.”

I turn quickly and start to walk down the same way Stiles went. I had to get to my English class before I get another late and end up in detention. Lydia follows.

“Why not? You like him, don’t you?” I shake my head at her words. “Isn’t this what best friends our age do? Stalk the boys they like?”

“When has stalking ever been okay?” I question incredulously.

I’m about to walk into class, spotting Stiles sitting in his usual seat. He wasn’t looking at me, as if waiting for me to walk in. Somehow that causes some disappointment to settle in the pit of my stomach. I really shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up over five seconds of eye contact. Before I could make my way towards my seat, Lydia grabs me by my forearm and drags me out of class, earning a small yelp from me as she hides me from Stiles’s line of vision.

“Look, I know you’re not going to admit it, but let’s hang out. Maybe I can drive us somewhere,” she offers.

I narrow my eyes at her, knowing she must have some underlying intention, for Lydia was never the one to just drop something so quickly.

“We only ever hang out at one of our houses. Why would you need to drive us somewhere?” I ask suspiciously.

The bell rings above us, signalling the beginning of class.

“Just let me drive you to this cool new hangout.”

“I’m onto you, Lyds.”

“There’s no need for that.”

“With you, there’s always a need-”

“Ms. Y/L/N,” both our necks snap to my English teacher and his disapproving expression from down the hall. “You’re late to class.”

“I’m standing outside of your classroom!” I argue before he shakes his head. His potato sized nose and balding head shine in the awful lighting of our high school’s hallway. Just his presence was enough to irk me. Rolling my eyes, I say, “You’re not even in your own classroom yet.”

Suddenly, both our eyes widen, knowing what we have to do. Leaving Lydia, I sprint to the inside of the room, beating Mr. Lennon by one second. His body almost crashes into mine as I release a breath of relief, knowing he can’t possibly mark me late.

“You’re a clever one, Ms. Y/L/N,” my teacher remarks as I slide into my seat next to Stiles. “I’ll get you in detention sooner or later.” He glares at me before turning to his chalkboard and mumbling some insults underneath his peanut-smelling breath.

Feeling some eyes on me, I feel the need to look around, only to be surprised to see Stiles staring at me. Before our eyes could meet, he jumps in his seat before turning his attention back to the board, but I still can’t help but smile to myself because maybe him looking at me does mean something.

---

“Lydia Martin, you fiend,” I exhale as she parks her car in between some trees in the Beacon Hills Reserve. After driving for fifteen minutes, I finally realize where she was taking me and why she was taking us here to spend our afternoon.

Rolling her eyes, Lydia begins to rummage through her bag. “He won’t know that we’re here. We’ll just be another car in the woods,” she attempts to reason.

I gape at her. “Cars aren’t meant to be in the woods, Lyds!”

“We’re on a hill. If anything he’ll just assume we’re a bunch of horny teenagers having sex in a nice secluded space.” Lydia’s plump lips suddenly curl into a smirk before she looks over at me. I furrow my brows at her and continue to gawk as she quickly pulls out what she had been looking for in her bag.

“Binoculars?!” I squeak.

Lydia nods her head excitedly before peering into them. I could only lean back in my chair and cover my face with my hands. Becoming best friends with Lydia Martin has been a rollercoaster from start to finish. I moved to Beacon Hills my freshman year of high school and she ever so kindly took me under her wing. She is not as conceited or rude or bitchy as anyone says, but this girl is fucking crazy. No. Insane.

In the three year span of our friendship, I have egged her ex-boyfriend’s porsche and snuck out of my bedroom window (more so plummet to my death) to go to some rager at someone’s house. But that’s where I met Stiles for the first time.

Parties were something I only attended because I was forced to. This reluctance to go started at a young age where I wouldn’t want to go to some girl’s seventh birthday party and somehow it evolved to not wanting to go to some houseparty just for the sake of a Friday night.

Lydia was one of those people who enjoyed having a good time and getting people out of their comfort zones, so that’s why I’m currently sitting on someone’s kitchen island, hesitantly sipping whatever drink Lydia concocted in the thirty second span she was by my side. At the moment, my knee was aching a bit because I fell out of my bedroom window. The thump should have woken up my parents, along with Lydia’s cackling, but somehow we got out safe and sound.

“Hey, do you, um….like do you wanna….what’s the word?”

Looking to my side, I see a tall kid with baby blue eyes and messy, blonde hair. He was well built and brooding over me as he tries to recall what he wanted to say to me. After many encounters with teenage boys, I was just hoping he wasn’t going to ask me to-

“Not hook up or anything.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. He sways to and fro before his head crashes onto my shoulder for support. I awkwardly grab him by the bicep to help him stand straight, but I was nervous that he might fall in the other direction if I finally got him to stand up. “I just wanna...I wanna go to bed.”

“You and me, both,” I grumble.

“M’name’s-”

“Isaac!”

“Yes, that’s me!” His head shoots up, his forehead almost knocking straight into my chin. Instead, his long excuse of an arm flails around and hits my cup right out of my hand and somehow, the drink misses me completely.

Standing in the doorway of the kitchen was a lanky, scrawny boy who I recognized from my Chemistry class. His brown hair was buzzed and the moles that littered his skin reminded me of the constellations in the sky. His eyes were a warm honey color and I couldn’t help but swoon as he says, “Run off like that again and I’m strangling you with one of your stupid scarves.”

“But...I love my scarves.”

“You’re the only one that does.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that, finally getting the boy, whose name was Stiles, to look at me with a shocked expression. “Oh, sorry about Isaac. He’s just...really dumb.”

“I’m drunk, not deaf,” his friend says before attempting to swing at the pale boy slowly coming into the kitchen.

“Okay, let’s get you home so you can stop bothering the pretty girl,” Stiles mutters, eyes widening when he realized what he said. He looks over to me, wondering if I heard it, which I did. Only, I give him a small smile, as if I wasn’t paying attention. He sighs to himself before throwing one of Isaac’s arm over his shoulder and dragging him out. “Sorry about this big oaf. I’d tell you he’s better sober, but he’s probably worse.”

Isaac smacks Stiles straight in the chest, causing the latter to gasp for air after being winded from that strong hit. “You’re lucky our asses are friends or else I would have let you embarrass yourself more at this party,” Stiles mutters.

“Being seen with you right now is an embarrassment,” Isaac retorts.

This triggers Stiles and him to bicker all throughout leaving the kitchen. As soon as the door behind them closes, the sound of their voices are faint, but I still feel my heart racing in my chest. Suddenly, my eyes widen and I rest a hand over my chest to steady my erratic heartbeat.

Please do not tell me that I might like this kid. My palms sweat and heart races and I can’t help but succumb into the warm feeling in my chest.

Thankfully, Lydia barges in, a glare on her face when noticing my missing drink. Before she could proceed with her lecturing, her mouth suddenly drops into a shocked expression. Then, she crosses her arms over her chest and smirks.

“Did you just meet a boy?” she tauntingly asks me. Before I could question how she knows everything seconds after it happens, Lydia squeals and says, “Oh my God. Tell. Me. Everything.”

“Look! There’s his car!” Lydia shouts, pointing at the distance. She tries to hand me the binoculars, but finding this situation extremely odd, I swat at her. I cannot believe I’m seriously sitting in a car, at the top of a hill, overlooking the town forest, so I can spy on this boy. “Oh…” Lydia mumbles, looking into her magnifiers. “He’s with a girl.”

I snatch the binoculars out of her hand and quickly look into it, only to find Stiles hop out of his blue Jeep with Scott coming out on the other side. “There’s no girl,” I say, now trying to look in the backseat.

“There is no girl. I just wanted you to look,” Lydia smiles. Slowly, I retract myself from the binoculars, squinting at Lydia with a lethal glare. She only beams at me before grabbing another pair out of her bag. “We won’t be here for long.”

Rolling my eyes, I allow myself to submit to the craziness of this all and watch Scott and Stiles set up lacrosse nets. From the five minutes Lydia and I have been watching, we assume that they’re just here to practice their sport. Scott was forcing Stiles to run up and down a hill, and wow, watching that boy sweat had me feeling some type of way.

“This is really how we’re spending our Wednesday night. I can’t believe this,” I say after putting down the binoculars. I reach into my own bag and grab a bag of chips to eat.

Once I open the bag, Lydia reaches her perfectly manicured hands in and pops a couple chips in her mouth before resuming her watching. “Well, we gotta get you two together somehow.”

“For the last time, I don’t have feelings for Stiles.”

“Denial is always the first step, sweetie.”

“Then, that means I’ve been in denial for a year now. I’ve only talked to him like twice.”

“Well, let’s make it three. And then four. And then five. And then until death do us part,” Lydia shrugs. She had put her binoculars down so we could prop our feet on her dashboard and just eat chips, listen to the radio, and chill out with the windows down.

“Maybe I should try talking to him more. I’m a good person. I deserve nice things,” I decide. Lydia nods, her strawberry blonde hair swaying against her cheeks as the wind blows through the car. I think for a moment, and then a feeling of dread overcomes me and I shake my head. “Just kidding. Nope. I cannot talk to him. I refuse.”

Lydia leans over and smacks me upside the head. “Get your head out of your own ass.”

“My head is out of my ass!”

After shaking her head at me, she picked up her stupid pair of binoculars, but instantly dropped them in front of her chair in a frantic fashion. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” Lydia chants like a mantra, trying to get her spy gadget out from underneath her chair.

Sitting up, my back now rigid, I look into my own pair of binoculars and find only Scott. The car was still there, but Stiles was nowhere to be found, which means...he could be anywhere. “Shit, fuck, shit,” I chant along with Lydia as she’s still bent over trying to find her binoculars.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Lydia keeps repeating as I’m frantically buckling my seatbelt.

I take another look, expecting the car to be gone, but then I see Stiles climbing up the hill, a look of confusion on his face when he spots our car and never in my life have I felt my heart drop faster than it did in that moment.

“Lydia,” I freak out. “Start the car.”

“My binoculars!”

“GET THEM LATER!”

As soon as her head pops back up, her green eyes instantly meet Stiles, who was close enough to be seen without binoculars now. “Oh fuck!” she screams. She turns the key to the ignition. The engine sputters. The car doesn’t start. Stiles is now jogging towards us.

“Lydia, he’s coming closer.” I’m practically choking on my spit and slamming my hand against the dashboard.

“The car won’t start!”

“Should we run?” I ask frantically.

“I’m in heels!”

“It’s survival of the fittest now, Lyds.”

Both our heads turn to see Stiles closer now and I’m literally about to scream. I feel like George Washington during the Battle of Bunker Hill, where I could honestly see the whites of his eyes. He’s that close. I’m going to scream. I’m throwing my body off this hill right now.

Lydia tries to start it again. It makes a weird sound and I feel a piece of my soul leave my body. I release a strangled cry and Lydia hits her steering wheel.

“Y/N, I’m trying!”

“Oh my God!” I whisper shout when he’s about ten feet from our car.

I duck my head down, almost slamming my forehead against the dashboard. Lydia turns the key one more time and as soon as it starts, we both scream in praise to whatever higher being was on our side that day. Lydia harshly grabs the joystick and slams it into Reverse. Before her foot could even touch the gas pedal, a sweaty body shows up by my window and the two of us scream bloody murder.

“Hi,” Stiles greets with his boy next door smile. Lydia and I could only gawk at him as we try to steady our heavy breathing and racing hearts.

“H-Hi,” I stutter, awkwardly fixing my shirt for any weird wrinkles. I could feel Lydia radiating excitement from beside me. Oh my God, I can feel my stomach starting to do an Olympics worthy gymnastics act from inside of me.

Stiles smiles a warm grin at me, his fingers holding onto the car door. He nervously chews on his bottom lip, his brown hair dripping in sweat, and his chest still vigorously moving up and down from jogging up the hill. I can’t help but smile back and even release some sort of exasperated laugh from the circumstances.

“Do you wanna go out sometime?” he suddenly asks me, his amber eyes twinkling as he spoke.

My jaw drops and I could barely make out a reply. My tongue must have atrophied or something because all I could do was nod and let out the most strangled excuse of a chuckle.

“Is that a yes?” Stiles questions with a worried expression.

Lydia leans over and says, “That’s a yes, Stiles.”

And just like the sun breaking through a bunch of clouds on a rainy day, Stiles beams at me. Despite Lydia talking to him, his eyes never left mine.

“Okay. Um, cool,” he says. He runs his fingers through his damp hair and laughs warmly. “How does Friday sound?”

“Um...erm…”

“Friday sounds great,” Lydia intervenes once again, to which I am so thankful for.

“Maybe this time we won’t have a drunk Isaac bothering the two of us?” Stiles jokes.

Due to my slow reaction time and stuttering replies, his face drops. He probably thinks that I don’t remember our first encounter from last year, but I do. Lydia tilts her head to the side, having no idea what we’re talking about, so I just smile and nod my head.

“That was a good time though,” I finally find the courage to say.

Stiles’s lips tug into a warm grin before nodding his head. “The best time.” He nibbles on his bottom lip before saying, “So, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“I’ll be ready,” I say.

Stiles nods before we both hear Scott calling him back down to finish his training. Stiles bids us a goodbye before jogging back down the hill and leaving Lydia and I to stare at each other in shock before screaming.

“What the fuck was that?” I gawk, placing a hand over my forehead.

Lydia only throws her head back in laughter before grinning at me brightly. “That’s the third time! And Friday will be the fourth. And then the fifth. And then…”

“Death do us part,” I finish for her, causing her to squeal.

“See, I knew you liked him. I knew that all of your refusal to talk to him was just you trying to hide your feelings,” Lydia claims.

“Well,” I peer over the dashboard to look out at Stiles who finally got to the bottom and high-fived Scott like he just won the biggest game of the season. My heart flutters within my chest. “Denial is the first step.”

[worshippingmendes-blog]

2 am - Part 4

Yeah I don’t know what this is, but enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

masterlist 

“Shawn?” Andrew asked the tall boy sitting in front of him, trying to get his attention.

”Shawn?”

On the third try Shawn snapped out of it and turned to his manager.

“Huh?”

Andrew rolled his eyes at him before letting out a sigh.

“You have distracted this entire week, what’s going on kid?”

Shawn gently traced his finger along the strings of the guitar before looking up.

“I met someone”

This caught Teddy’s attention as well and she looked at him with hope in her eyes.

Andrew was taken back slightly of the sudden confession before his face softened.

“What’s her name?”

Shawn couldn’t help but smile as her name rolled over his lips.

“Y/n”

Andrew and Teddy shared a look before they once again turned to the lovesick boy.

“So she’s the reason to why haven’t played the right chord for a week?”

Shawn nodded with a smirk plastered on his lips.

“She’s… amazing”

“Everytime I look at her I just, I get this feeling like I just want to hold her and never let go”

Teddy smiled big as she put a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re in love dude”

He looked up at her with confusion written on his forehead.

“Nooo” He said in denial, dragging out on the o’s.

Andrew nodded.

“Yes you are, you’re in love”

Shawn held his hands up

“Fine! Maybe I am”

Andrew pat him gently on his knee before he got up.

“Great, now let’s write some song about it”

Shawn just rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Maybe he was in love, in love with the girl he had only met a month earlier.

  From : Shawn❤️

let’s do something tonight? it’s friday after all

From: Y/N

Sure I’m free! Chinese and alcohol?

From: Shawn❤️

You read my mind, mine at 7?

From: Y/N

I’ll be there!

As soon as your shift ended you made your way to Shawn’s. With two six pack of beer in your hands you walked into his apartment, forgetting to knock.

“Shawn! I brought beer!” You yelled into the seemingly empty apartment, where the curly headed boy were nowhere to be seen.

“Whoa, I didn’t hear you there honey” A voice said behind you.

You turned around only to face Shawn, straight from the shower. Towel wrapped around his waist, showing of his toned stomach. Hair wet and dripping onto his shoulders. He looked like snack you wouldn’t mind tasting. He gave you a wink before going into his bedroom to change.

”Pictures last longer”

You shook your head but didn’t even try to suppress the smile that was creeping up on your lips.

Grabbing a beer you sat down in his couch and made yourself at home, turned on the tv and went into netflix.

Thinking that his profile looked a little lonely on the big screen, you added another and named it “babe”. As a joke, of course.

Shawn returns to the living room, but this time, to your disappointment, fully dressed in a tight black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

Grabbing a beer himself, he sat down next to you on the couch.

He looked with confusion on the screen before turning to you.

“Babe huh?”

You raised your eyebrows and gave him a wink.

“Yes, I thought it looked a bit lonely”

Shawn nodded and lifted up his legs, leaving his feet in your lap.

“Well then, babe, choose a movie and I’ll order some food”

You felt your heart flutter at the nickname but you tried to brush it off, he only said it as a joke, of course.

You searched netflix for a movie and finally settled on grown ups 2, sending a look at Shawn you noticed how focused he looked as he sat there looking at food.

His eyebrows were slightly wrinkled, and the tip of his tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

He catched you staring and looked up, sending you a wide smile, causing you to blush.

“You’re not allergic to peanuts are you?”

You shook your head and sent him a smile.

“Okay, and... sent! Food will be here in 20”

He said proudly, putting his phone on the table in front of him.

“Good boy” You joked, grabbing the remote control.

“Now let’s watch the movie”

You pressed play and the movie started, and you soon regretted wearing jeans. Uncomfortably you shifted positions every 30 seconds, causing Shawn to finally pause the movie.

”Can you sit still please?” He laughed.

”I can’t, my jeans are really uncomfortable” You whined and pointed to the blue fabric covering your bottom half.

“I have sweatpants that you can borrow” Shawn said, looking innocently at you.

“If you want to”

He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back into the couch again.

“Yes please, thank you!!” You said, standing up.

“Middle door, bottom shelf” He said with a smile and you held your hands up in a prayer.

“My savior!”

His laugh echoed through the apartment as you made your way to his bedroom. Quickly you found a pair of sweatpants and put them on. They were way too big and you had to tie them twice for them not to fall off.

You shrugged your shoulders and made your way back to the boy. He was standing in the door frame, probably getting the food.

“Y/n?” A familiar voice said, and you froze.

Walking up to the door your eyes met the blonde boy’s.

“Chris?”

The boy gave you a smile as he handed Shawn your food.

“It’s been a while popcorn”

Shawn sent you a look, which you ignored.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hey, I’m just delivering food! A better question is what are you doing in this guy’s apartment? Is he your boyfriend?”

You felt yourself getting angrier at the second at your cocky ex.

“It’s none of your fucking business, Christopher”

He held his hands up, but there was still a smirk on his lips.

“Okay, I see you’re still as much of a bitch as you were two years ago”

You were about to hit the guy as Shawn stepped in front of you. His tall frame towered over the blonde boy.

“I think you should go now” his voice was dark and threatening. Christopher took a step back before turning on his heels and making his way out of your sight.

Shawn closed the door and immediately turned to you.

“What was that about?”

You let out a deep sigh, not wanting to have the discussion again.

“My asshole ex who cheated on me”

He was taken back by your answer before giving you a sympathetic look.

“Sorry”

You shook your head and grabbed the food.

“It’s okay, let’s just eat. I’m starving”

Shawn eyes over your body for a few seconds, admiring the way you looked in his clothes. It was a sight he could get used to.

He walked before you to the couch and sat down in one of the corners.

As you walked by him he grabbed your wrist, pulling you down to sit next to him instead.

“You’re lucky I didn’t drop that food”

He giggled as he grabbed a container of noodles and a pair of chopsticks.

“Shut up and start the movie, babe”

You rolled your eyes at him, but did as he told you anyways.

“You know, we can move on from the ‘babe’ thing now”

He shook his head, mouth full of noodles.

“Fine, then I’ll call you sweetie”

He grunted under his breath in disapproval, making you let out a giggle.

As you finished the food only half of the movie had passed.

“I’m cold” Shawn whined.

“Then grab a blanket sweetie”

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes.

”Fine, I’ll just use you then”

You wrinkled your brows and before you knew it you were sitting in between his legs.

”Shawn, you’re boiling” you laughed.

”Maybe” he mumbled into the top of your head as he wrapped his arms around you.

”Okay what are you doing?”

”Cuddling”

You shook your shoulders and leaned back into his chest.

”Can’t argue with that”

He giggled and let go of you.

”I mean, when a handsome guy as you wants to cuddle a sack of potatoes as myself, it would be foolish to say no” He let out a giggle.

”In that case you’re a really cute sack of potatoes”

He mumbled under his breath, causing the butterflies in your stomach to wake up again.

You cleared your throat and stood up.

“Do you have anything stronger than beer?”

He smirked and got up, opening a cabinet full of different kinds of alcohol. Leaving the long forgotten movie still playing.

“Holy shit” you said

Shawn got out something neon pink and two shot glasses.

“Cheers babe” He said with a wink and drank the pink liquid. You did the same and you felt it burn as it made its way down your throat.

The evening passed by quickly, with more drinking of the pink stuff and something green Shawn found logged behind some old pasta.

“ So you would rather marry Emma Watson than Jennifer Lawrence?”  you giggled.

“Yes? I mean have you seen Harry Potter?” he said defensively.

“Okay but your turn, Tom Holland or KJ Apa?”

“Oh please, that’s too easy” you complained

“Tom Holland is a snack I wouldn’t mind taking a bite of”

Something in Shawn’s eyes changed at your sentence. They almost turned a shade darker. Honey to coffee.

“Do you think that Tom dude would do this?”

He leaned closer and closed the distance between your lips. His lips were soft and tasted sweet with a hint of alcohol.

You placed a hand on his neck, deepening the kiss. Maybe it was the mix of alcohol and the fact that your normal instincts were pretty much gone, but it felt right. Your lips fit together perfectly, complimenting each other.

Shawn pulled away for a second before slowly pushing you down on the floor. His tall figure hoovered over your body as he gently placed a kiss on your jawline, slowly making his way down your neck. Leaving purple marks that would be visible for days to come. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling, and you felt him smirk against your hot skin. His lips ghosted over your ear, sending shivers down your spine and leaving goosebumps on your skin.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom shall we?”

You nodded and he lifted you up from the floor, carrying you bridal style into his bedroom. The squeal that escaped your lips as he slammed the door behind him was filled with pure excitement.

The sun was shining through the thin blinds covering his windows ,making him wake up,

His head was pounding, and he immediately regretted drinking the day before. He looked out over the room, clothes were scattered over the floor. But it was only his. A quick look to the right confirmed his suspicions. She was gone. His heart dropped at the sight of the empty bed.

Slowly, he sat up and tried to remember the events of last night. There was something about a crazy ex, an unfinished movie and nicknames.

He quickly put on a pair of boxers and made his way to the bathroom. His hair was messy, curls messily tangled in each other. And his neck, there was purple marks scattered over it. Another reminder of last nights event.

Shawn washed his face and brushed his teeth before he went to grab breakfast. He couldn’t understand why she left. Did he do something wrong? Was he bad? The thoughts were infinite as he grabbed the cereal from the top shelf.

Maybe she only saw him as a friend and the only reason to last night was the alcohol?

Maybe he stepped over the boundaries and ruined their friendship?

Maybe he had, once again, lost a good girl.

@merna221b

[artificialqueens]

If I Could {Ch. 2} (Trixya) - Saltine

AN: Hey it’s ya girl Saltine, coming at you with another chapter of this grossly self-indulgent trixya fic. also, heads up there is some minor underage drinking mentioned in this chapter so i hope you’re down with that. thank you so much to everyone who gave me positive messages, i love attention so it means a lot. enjoy part two sluts

That afternoon was spent between the two of them talking about whatever they could think of. Katya told Trixie about her ex and why she was crying at the party. Trixie told Katya about her family and her stepdad. They found out that they were both taking a gap year before going to college. They only spent a couple hours together but by the time the sun began to set, they felt like they had known each other for years.

August came slowly as August always does, with sweltering heat and sunsets that practically dripped with orange and pink. Katya and Trixie had begun to spend majority of their days together, watching movies, or driving through the city with their windows down, or taking afternoon naps on Katya’s bedroom floor. They relished in the simplicity of their new friendship with the sweet little moments of their last lazy days of summer.

<> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <>

“You like her,” Ginger said, smirking. Katya rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink. She looked out the window, avoiding eye contact. She hoped Ginger couldn’t tell how bad she was at lying.

“I don’t like her like that. She’s not my type. You’ve seen how much pink she wears, I could never be into that,” Katya said. She felt blood rushing to her cheeks and her heartbeat steadily increasing. Ginger kept on smiling.

“Whatever you say, honey,” she replied. Katya didn’t respond and they left it at that. After Katya made it back to her house, the thought of Trixie still lingered in the back of her mind. Did she have feelings for the other girl? She hadn’t known her that long; it wasn’t like she was falling for her best friend or anything, but it still felt strange. Maybe the two of them had been flirting this whole time. Maybe she should give it a shot. As if on cue, Katya felt her phone buzz in her pocket indicating a received text from Trixie. She felt her stomach knot up and got a tingling feeling in the tips of her fingers. She had never really noticed how her body reacted when Trixie was brought up. Maybe it means something, she thought.

Hey, wanna go to this party at Violet’s place with me…Pearl can’t make it I don’t wanna go alone :(((

Katya stared blankly at her phone screen as she received another text.

It’s gonna be super chill, I think it’s like 11 people tops

She was hesitant, but typed out a message saying she would go.

Sweet, i’ll pick you up at 8 Barbara ;)

Katya put her phone face down, collapsed onto her bed and watched as her ceiling fan spun above her. She hated catching feelings. Why was this happening? Trixie was just her friend. Just a friend who made her feel electrified when she touched her and who made her heart feel weightless when she laughed. Just a friend with beautiful blue eyes the color of the sky just after a storm and beach blonde hair and lips shaped like a rosebud. Katya was so unbelievably fucked.

Meanwhile, as Trixie applied her carnation pink lip gloss in her mirror, she found herself thinking something remarkably similar. She had been lying when she said Pearl couldn’t go because she hadn’t actually asked her. She just didn’t want to seem clingy when she asked Katya to go with her. Trixie, unlike Katya, had accepted the feelings she had for the other girl from the day they met. She had shamelessly been flirting with her for the past month and a half and was beginning to worry she wasn’t getting the message. The last thing she wanted was for the two of them to become such close friends that being anything more would become off-limits and weird. She knew she had to act quickly and tonight was her chance. She finished the final touches on her makeup and sent Katya a text alerting her that she was on her way. She grew more and more nervous as she got closer to Katya’s house, but the second she saw her illuminated from behind by the light inside her front door, any signs of anxiety dissipated. Katya waved goodbye to her mother and closed the door behind her.

“You look hot,” Trixie said as Katya hopped into the car. Katya batted her eyelashes and made a stupid face before saying,

“You aren’t looking too bad yourself, Tracy.” They laughed as Katya buckled her seat belt and turned the radio on. Britney Spears’ “Toxic” began playing and the two girls immediately burst loudly into the song, dancing side by side as they drove down the highway. They pulled into Violet’s driveway to see that there were about three times as many people at the party as they had thought. People were sitting on the roof, jumping into the pool, and practically climbing out the windows.

“Shit,” said Trixie. Katya had begun to get visibly uncomfortable about the situation at hand, and Trixie gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“What’s wrong Kat?” she asked. Katya looked at the ground. Her voice wavered ever so slightly when she spoke.

“Well, I mean, you remember what happened the last time I was at a party,” she said, trying to force a laugh. “I’m just not..great with big groups.” Trixie nodded understandingly.

“I’ll be with you the whole time, it’s gonna be fun. We’ll get you drunk or something.” She nudged Katya’s shoulder and the two walked into the house. They were immediately bombarded with noise, music, and people. The whole house was a mess of drunk 19-year-olds partying like it was the last night of their lives. Katya had thought the party she went to a month before would be the last big one before everyone moved away, but she had been sorely mistaken.

About an hour after they had arrived, they were both tipsy (though probably the most sober ones there) and curled into each other on Violet’s couch. They had yet to see Violet at all, but that wasn’t too surprising. They had barely interacted with anyone but each other the whole time, finding any excuse to just be alone. Katya leaned her head onto Trixie’s shoulder and played with a strand of her hair.

“Baaaabe…I’m tired,” she said. She buried her face in the crook of Trixie’s neck. Trixie tried to ignore the fact that Katya had called her babe. They called each other pet names all the time and besides, she was slightly intoxicated after all. She wrapped her arm around Katya’s shoulder and pulled her in closer.

“We can go soon if you want,” she said, struggling to get all of the words out of her mouth. She was exhausted too. Katya shifted slightly and then it happened. Trixie pressed a light kiss to Katya’s forehead. She just meant it to be normal, platonic thing. She hadn’t been trying to make any serious advances, at least, that’s what she told Katya, who looked up at her with wide, questioning eyes. They sat silently for a moment before Katya gently slid her hand into Trixie’s and rubbed her thumb lightly back and forth. Trixie was on the verge of a panic attack. She had just kind of kissed her friend, they were both slightly drunk and cuddling on the couch, and now Katya was holding her hand. She had no idea what to think or what to do, so she just sat there, frozen on the couch until Katya fell asleep in her lap. By midnight, Trixie had sobered up enough to safely drive home, so she scooped up Katya and helped her into the car where she dozed off again. They made it to Trixie’s house but barely made it into her room before falling onto the bed, with Katya’s head resting on Trixie’s chest. She found herself full of butterflies as she stared at her friend’s face illuminated by gentle moonlight, breathing deeply and falling to sleep in a matter of seconds. Trixie was too tired to be anxious, so she simply stroked Katya’s soft, blonde hair before falling to sleep underneath her.

[3ammonologue]

black marigolds

Even now My thought is all of this gold-tinted king's daughter With garlands tissue and golden buds, Smoke tangles of her hair, and sleeping or waking Feet trembling in love, full of pale languor; My thought is clinging as to a lost learning Slipped down out of the minds of men, Labouring to bring her back into my soul. Even now If I see in my soul the citron-breasted fair one Still gold-tinted, her face like our night stars, Drawing unto her; her body beaten about with flame, Wounded by the flaring spear of love, My first of all by reason of her fresh years, Then is my heart buried alive in snow. Even now If my girl with lotus eyes came to me again Weary with the dear weight of young love, Again I would give her to these starved twins of arms And from her mouth drink down the heavy wine, As a reeling pirate bee in fluttered ease Steals up the honey from the nenuphar. Even now I bring her back, ah, wearied out with love So that her slim feet could not bear her up; Curved falls of her hair down on her white cheeks; In the confusion of her coloured vests Speaking that guarded giving up, and her scented arms Lay like cool bindweed over against my neck. Even now I bring her back to me in her quick shame, Hiding her bright face at the point of day: Making her grave eyes move in watered stars, For love's great sleeplessness wandering all night, Seeming to sail gently, as that pink bird, Down the water of love in a harvest of lotus. Even now If I saw her lying all wide eyes And with collyrium the indent of her cheek Lengthened to the bright ear and her pale side So suffering the fever of my distance, Then would my love for her be ropes of flowers, and night A black-haired lover on the breasts of day. Even now I see the heavy startled hair of this reed-flute player Who curved her poppy lips to love dances, Having a youth's face madding like the moon Lying at her full; limbs ever moving a little in love, Too slight, too delicate, tired with the small burden Of bearing love ever on white feet. Even now She is present to me on her beds, Balmed with the exhalation of a flattering musk, Rich with the curdy essence of santal; Girl with eyes dazing as the seeded wine, Showing as a pair of gentle nuthatches Kissing each other with their bills, each hidden By turns within a little grasping mouth. Even now She swims back in the crowning hour of love All red with wine her lips have given to drink, Soft round the mouth with camphor and faint blue Tinted upon the lips, her slight body, Her great live eyes, the colourings of herself A clear perfection; sighs of musk outstealing And powdered wood spice heavy of Kashmir. Even now I see her; far face blond like gold Rich with small lights, and tinted shadows surprised Over and over all of her; with glittering eyes All bright for love but very love weary, As it were the conjuring disk of the moon when Rahu ceases With his dark stumbling block to hide her rays. Even now She is art-magically present to my soul, And that one word of strange heart's cease, goodbye, That in the night, in loth moving to go, And bending over to a golden mouth, I said softly to the turned away Tenderly tired hair of this king's daughter. Even now My eyes that hurry to see no more are painting, painting Faces of my lost girl. O golden rings That tap against cheeks of small magnolia-leaves, O whitest so soft parchment where My poor divorced lips have written excellent Stanzas of kisses, and will write no more. Even now Death sends me the flickering of powdery lids Over wild eyes and the pity of her slim body All broken up with the weariness of joy; The little red flowers of her breasts to be my comfort Moving above scarves, and for my sorrow Wet crimson lips that once I marked as mine. Even now By a cool noise of waters in the spring The Asoka with young flowers that feign her fingers And bud in red; and in the green vest pearls kissing As it were rose leaves in the gardens of God; the shining at night Of white cheeks in the dark; smiles from light thoughts within, And her walking as of a swan: these trouble me. Even now The pleased intimacy of rough love Upon the patient glory of her form Racks me with memory; and her bright dress As it were yellow flame, which the white hand Shamefastly gathers in her rising haste, The slender grace of her departing feet. Even now When all my heavy heart is broken up I seem to see my prison walls breaking And then a light, and in that light a girl Her fingers busied about her hair, her cool white arms Faint rosy at the elbows, raised in the sunlight, And temperate eyes that wander far away. Even now I seem to see my prison walls come close, Built up of darkness, and against that darkness A girl no taller than my breast and very tired, Leaning upon the bed and smiling, feeding A little bird and lying slender as ash trees, Sleepily aware as I told of the green Grapes and the small bright coloured river flowers. Even now I see her, as I used, in her white palace Under black torches throwing cool red light, Woven with many flowers and tearing the dark. I see her rising, showing all her face Defiant timidly, saying clearly: Now I shall go to sleep, goodnight, my ladies. Even now Though I am so far separate, a flight of birds Swinging from side to side over the valley trees, Passing my prison with their calling and crying, Bring me to see my girl. For very bird-like Is her song singing, and the state of a swan In her light walking, like the shaken wings Of a black eagle falls her nightly hair. Even now I know my princess was happy. I see her stand Touching her breasts with all her flower-soft fingers, Looking askance at me with smiling eyes. There is a god that arms him with a flower And she was stricken deep. Here, oh die here. Kiss me and I shall be purer than quick rivers. Even now They chatter her weakness through the two bazaars Who was so strong to love me. And small men That buy and sell for silver being slaves Crinkles the fat about their eyes; and yet No Prince of the Cities of the Sea has taken her, Leading to his grim bed. Little lonely one, You cling to me as a garment clings; my girl. Even now Only one dawn shall rise for me. The stars Revolve tomorrow's night and I not heed. One brief cold watch beside an empty heart And that is all. This night she rests not well; Oh, sleep; for there is heaviness for all the world Except for the death-lighted heart of me. Even now My sole concern the slipping of her vests, Her little breasts the life beyond this life. One night of disarray in her green hems, Her golden cloths, outweighs the order of earth, Making of none effect the tides of the sea. I have seen her enter the temple meekly and there seem The flag of flowers that veils the very god. Even now I mind the coming and talking of wise men from towers Where they had thought away their youth. And I, listening, Found not the salt of the whispers of my girl, Murmur of confused colours, as we lay near sleep; Little wise words and little witty words, Wanton as water, honied with eagerness. Even now I call to mind her weariness in the morning Close lying in my arms, and tiredly smiling At my disjointed prayer for her small sake. Now in my morning the weariness of death Sends me to sleep. Had I made coffins I might have lived singing to three score. Even now The woodcutter and the fisherman turn home, With on his axe the moon and in his dripping net Caught yellow moonlight. The purple flame of fires Calls them to love and sleep. From the hot town The maker of scant songs for bread wanders To lie under the clematis with his girl. The moon shines on her breasts, and I must die. Even now I have a need to make up prayers, to speak My last consideration of the world To the great thirteen gods, to make my balance Ere the soul journeys on. I kneel and say: Father of Light. Leave we it burning still That I may look at you. Mother of the Stars, Give me your  feet to kiss; I love you, dear. Even now I seem to see the face of my lost girl With frightened eyes, like a wood wanderer, In travail with sorrowful waters, unwept tears Labouring to be born and fall; when the white face turned And little ears caught at the far murmur, The pleased snarling of the tumult of dogs When I was hurried away down the white road. Even now When slow rose-yellow moons looked out at night To guard the sheaves of harvest and mark down The peach's fall, how calm she was and love worthy. Glass-coloured starlight falling as thin as dew Was wont to find us at the spirit's starving time Slow straying in the orchard paths with love. Even now Love is a god and Rati the dark his bride; But once I found their child and she was fairer, That could so shine. And we were each to each Wonderful and a presence not yet felt In any dream. I knew the sunset earth But as a red gold ring to bear my emerald Within the little summer of my youth. Even now I marvel at the bravery of love. She, whose two feet might be held in one hand And all her body on a shield of the guards, Lashed like a gold panther taken in a pit Tearfully valiant, when I too was taken; Bearding her black beard father in his wrath, Striking the soldiers with white impotent hands. Even now I mind that I loved cypress and roses, dear, The great blue mountains and the small grey hills, The sounding of the sea. Upon a day I saw strange eyes and hands like butterflies; For me at morning larks flew from the thyme And children came to bathe in little streams. Even now Sleep left me all these nights for your white bed And I am sure you sistered lay with sleep After much weeping. Piteous little love, Death is in the garden, time runs down, The year that simple and unexalted ran till now Ferments in winy autumn, and I must die. Even now I mind our going, full of bewilderment As who should walk from sleep into great light, Along the running of the winter river, A dying sun on the cool hurrying tide No more by green rushes delayed in dalliance, With a clear purpose in his flower flecked length Informed, to reach Nirvana and the sea. Even now I love long black eyes that caress like silk, Ever and ever sad and laughing eyes, Whose lids make such sweet shadow when they close It seems another beautiful look of hers. I love a fresh mouth, ah, a scented mouth, And curving hair, subtle as a smoke, And light fingers, and laughter of green gems. Even now I mind asking: Where love and how love Rati's priestesses? You can tell me of their washings at moon down And if that warm basin have silver borders. Is it so that when they comb their hair Their fingers, being purple stained, show Like coral branches in the black sea of their hair? Even now I remember that you made answer very softly, We being one soul, your hand on my hair, The burning memory rounding your near lips; I have seen the preistesses of Rati make love at moon fall And then in a carpeted hall with a bright gold lamp Lie down carelessly anywhere to sleep. Even now I have no surety that she is not Mahadevi Rose red of Siva, or Kapagata The wilful ripe Companion of the King, Or Krishna's own Lakshmi, the violet haired. I am not certain but that dark Brahma In his high secret purposes Has sent my soft girl down to make the three worlds mad With capering about her scented feet. Even now Call not the master painters from all the world, Their thin black beards, their rose and green and grey, Their ashes of lapis lazuli ultramarine, Their earth of shadows the umber. Laughing at art Sunlight upon the body of my bride, For painting not nor any eyes for ever. Oh warm tears on the body of my bride. Even now I mind when the red crowds were passed and it was raining How glad those two that shared the rain with me; For they talked happily with rich young voices And at the storm's increase, closer and with content, Each to the body of the other held As there were no more severance for ever. Even now The stainless fair appearance of the moon Rolls her gold beauty over an autumn sky And the stiff anchorite forgets to pray; How much the sooner I, if her wild mouth Tasting of the taste of manna came to mine And kept my soul at balance above a kiss. Even now Her mouth carelessly scented as with lotus dust Is water of love to the great heat of love, A tirtha very holy, a lover's lake Utterly sacred. Might I go down to it But one time more, then should I find a way To hold my lake for ever and ever more Sobbing out my life beside the waters. Even now I mind that the time of the falling of blossoms started my dream Into a wild life, into my girl; Then was the essence of her beauty spilled Down on my days so that it fades not, Fails not, subtle and fresh, in perfuming That day, and the days, and this the latest day. Even now She with young limbs as smooth as flower pollen, Whose swaying body is laved in the cool Waters of languor, the dear bright-coloured bird, Walks not, changes not, advances not Her weary station by the black lake Of Gone Forever, in whose fountain vase Balance the water-lilies of my thought. Even now Spread we our nets beyond the farthest rims So surely that they take the feet of dawn Before you wake and after you are sleeping Catch up the visible and invisible stars And web the ports the strongest dreamer dreamed, Yet it is all one, Vidya, yet it is nothing. Even now The night is full of silver straws of rain, And I will send my soul to see your body This last poor time. I stand beside your bed; Your shadowed head lies leaving a bright space Upon the pillow empty, your sorrowful arm Holds from your side and clasps at anything. There is no covering upon you. Even now I think your feet seek mine to comfort them. There is some dream about you even now Which I'll not hear at waking. Weep not at dawn, Though day brings wearily your daily loss And all the light is hateful. Now it is time To bring my soul away. Even now I mind that I went round with men and women, And underneath their brows, deep in their eyes, I saw their souls, which go slipping aside In swarms before the pleasure of my mind; The world was like a flight of birds, shadow or flame Which I saw pass above the engraven hills. Yet there was never one like to my girl. Even now Death I take up as consolation. Nay, were I free as the condor with his wings Or old kings throned on voilet ivory, Night would not come without beds of green floss And never a bed without my bright darling. It is most fit that you strike now, black guards, And let this fountain out before the dawn. Even now I know that I have savoured the hot taste of life Lifting green cups and gold at the great feast. Just for a small and a forgotten time I have had full in my eyes from off my girl The whitest pouring of eternal light . The heavy knife. As to a gala day.               Translated from the Sanskrit of Chauras               (Chaura-panchasika, 1st century) by               Powys Mathers, Love Songs of Asia, Knopf, 1946.               Pub. Basil Blackwell, Oxford 1919

[mrevaunit42]

Don’t Stop me now (Chapter 100)

Hey everyone Mr.E here and i did it I finally did it. This right here is my 100th chapter for my FF story always a star. I DID IT! well to be fair, there’s like 2 chapters that are requests but i have 2 extra stories here and  you know what the title says hundred and i know i wrote more than that. Anyway, this is it my hundredth chapter. I would’ve never made this far without all the support you readers give me. thank you thank you so much for everything. this is for you

So this story takes place in the canon universe with Marco and Star fighting once and for all. it’s not going well and defeat looks assured but hopefully somebody can lend a little support.

This is not how i think the final battle is going to go. this is how i always planned to celeberate my impossible to believe 100th chapter and i hope you enjoy it. there’s lots of nods and winks from my various stories including the one that started it all. if you don’t get, don’t worry about it. some in cheek humor. I hope you all enjoy it, have a great week and i shall see you soon once I take a break. thank you all again so much for your support. I really wouldn’t be here without it.

@hipster-rapunzel @hains-mae also if you want to be on my tag list so you know when i update the story, please let me know.

“STAR!”

The magical princess grasped wildly for Marco's hand as he reached for her, his chocolate brown eyes wide with panic as a sinister green light basked him in its glow.

Star stretched as far as she could and for one brief moment, she could feel his hand touching hers, muscles flexing to tighten their grip on one another.

Then everything went pale green.

Star flinched as a powerful blast of solid magical energy smashed directly into her helpless form. The attack dissolved into emptiness while the magical princess was flung across the room.

Star hit the wall behind her full force, the terrifying sound of brick and mortar cracking beneath her weight and momentum barely heard over the ringing that filled her ears, her body straining under a deep, throbbing ache that bleed into her bones.

Toffee's grin was wild, maniacal, hungry. Gone was the cool and composed monster who stalked her nightmares and terrified her waking moments, replaced by a creature that was drunk on the power he wielded and far too gone to be saved.

Star tried to move but her body felt heavy as if the sins of her family were weighing her down. Star shuddered as she ran her fingers down the once smooth black grayish blue wall: she could actually feel the indentation she made in the wall.

“Give it up Star” Toffee said with a toothy smirk, his yellowish eyes completely green and pupil-less  “It's over. Not even you could stop me. Just hand over the wand and I'll make it quick.”

“Star” Marco cried out, lunging forward with a swipe of his katana.

Toffee was unimpressed as he took a step back causing Marco to miss completely.

Marco tumbled to the floor, breathing heavy before managing plunge his blade into the ground and bringing himself to a stop.

“You can't give up!” Marco pleaded with her, drawing his blade once more “We've come too far to let it end like this.”

“Aww” Toffee chuckled “how sweet. I always loved star crossed romances.”

Marco shifted uneasily, his cheeks burning at Toffee's words: he still hadn't told Star how he really felt about her and it looked like their time was almost up.

“My favorite” Toffee murmured with a cheeky smile “Is the tragedies of course.”

Toffee slashed at the defenseless Butterfly with his shard infused hand, a crescent wave of green, crackling energy headed straight for Star.

Marco, the ever brave, foolish boy, leapt to absorb the blow but the magic passed through him effortlessly. He convulsed for a moment before sinking to his knees, smoking curling off his body as he remained unmoving.

“Marco!” Star reached for her best friend but was slammed backwards as Toffee's spell hit her.

The foggy mountain range was still and quiet, nothing but the sound of rushing water pouring from the monstrous structure filled the air when the side of the castle exploded, chunks of rubble and debris scattered in every direction. A thick, greenish black cloud of smoke poured out of the newly created hole.

Star struggled to open her eyes, the howling of the wind deafening as she tried weakly called for Marco.

Everything hurt, everything felt like she had been caught under hoof of a warnicorn stampede and then hit with a narwhal blast. Repeatedly

Her eyelids stung every time she tried to force them open, blurry, jumbled images that were impossible to decipher but the one thing she knew for sure: Marco was nowhere in sight and she had never been more scared in her entire life.

There was a booming thud that echoed thunderously throughout the mountain range. A plume of smoke rose silently from a newly formed crater dug deeply into the Earth.

Star crawled out of hole as best she could, determination fueling her desperate need to reach Marco.

“Marco” She whispered urgently to herself “Marco, I'm coming...I'm....”

She panted heavily, her body worn and defeated. She couldn't do this....she couldn't. Toffee was going to win and there was no way to stop him.

Star held the wand tightly in her hands, tears streaming down her faded pink heart covered cheeks.

“Marco....Marco I'm so sorry.....” she wept, grasping hands full of dirt “Marco....”

“Aww, there's no need to pout darling, the shows about to start.” A peppy, cheerful , strangely accented voice called to Star.

The tears ceased at once. Confusion set in as Star slowly glanced upwards only to find herself staring at a very unusual sight.

“Wha?” she muttered as she found herself at a nearly identical copy of herself.

Well keyword was nearly.  

The woman (not girl as Star mistook for a moment) was undoubtedly an older, 20 something version of herself if her trademark pink hearts and (short) blonde hair were any indication. Her eyes were kind and warm, gentle and an all too familiar blue.

She wore a rather elegant dress tucked under a dark blue coat with her hair hidden under a funny looking hat Marco once told her people called “flappers” wore and like Star, she had a wand though older Star's wand was more of a smoothly carved piece of wood.

“Honey?” a man's voice called out worriedly as the sky began to fill with a pale, greenish light “You might need to hurry up some more.”

“Alright sweetie, duly noted” Older Star called back lovingly to her companion

The older Butterfly helped her young self to her feet, brushing the excess dirt and grime that covered her face

“One must look presentable when one is to kick the forces of evil's ass” Older Star said with a wink.

Before Star could say anything, her older self flicked her wand and suddenly Star felt refreshed and renewed like she had gotten a good night's rest.

“wait, wait, wait” Star rose her hand, taking a step back from the 20 something version of herself “Who are you?”

“Me? Why, I'm you darling” Older Star replied cheerfully, giving Star one of her own trademark smiles.

“No, I'm me. You're you so who the heck are you!?”

“I'm you but not quite.”

“umm” Star looked unconvinced by the answer “That makes no sense.”

“As you no doubt have discovered, there is a multitude of different universes and thus an endless amounts of you...” The woman pursed her lips “me, umm us!”

“Umm....okay....” Star took a deep breath and clasped her hands together, fingers bouncing on her lips thoughtful before she pointed to the older her “So, you're me from another universe?”

“Exactly dear. I'm a witch.”

“A wha?”

“I can use magic same as you.” Older Star clarified “There are some versions of us that know nothing of the sort.”

Star shook her head disappointed “Those poor poor princesses.”

“Some aren't even princesses. Such as myself.”

Star was surprised by this “But you have a wand.”

“Honey! Time”

Star remembered about other her's companion and couldn't help but sneak a look.

She peered around herself and found a tall brown haired man in long black coat, his pants well pressed to perfect.

Star gasped as a beam of Toffee's magic sailed directly towards the trio, a pale green beam of pure destruction

Star reached for her wand but other her's companion had it covered.

He held his own well crafted wand and with a flick of his wrist, a translucent wall appeared before them and with a loud crash, Toffee's attack slammed against it but the protective shield held though she could see beads of sweat drip down the man's neck.

“Star, listen to me.”

Star's attention refocused on her 20 something self.

“We're here to help you.” other star explained “Somehow, your Toffee has ripped into the fabric of not only your universe but all universes.”

“Wha?”

The green glow faded away. The man wiped the sweat off his brow and turned to face the pair of Butterfly's

Star gasped, turning a bright red as an older Marco walked over to Older Star and planted a loving, passionate kiss on her lips.

Star stood there dumbfounded as Older Marco wrapped his arm around Older Star's waist, pulling closer as she lovingly leaned against his shoulder.

“I..I...”

“Star” Older Marco told her with a firm tone she was used to “we need you to listen. The universes are colliding.”

“Wha?”

“Every version of us is about to die” 20 something Star explained quickly.

“oooooh right right right. So you two are here to help me fix it?”

“yes”

Star beamed

“and no”

Star frowned.

Older Marco quickly took over explaining “We are here to help but only for a short time. We can't stay too long out of our universe.”

“I can't beat him on my own” Star muttered sadly “and if you guys can't stay....”

Older Star crouched down, gently placing her hand on Star's shoulder “You are a strong, independent warrior princess. You will beat him. Have faith and remember what you learned and we'll get you as far as we can.”

Star nodded to herself “You're right. I'M A BUTTERFLY AND I'M GOING TO KICK SOME TOFFEE BUTT!”

Older Star and Marco nodded in agreement as they flickered in and out of existence for a moment, their forms shifting every few seconds.

“Oh no” Star whispered “already?”

“Have faith Star” 20 something her said softly, giving her cheerful wink “I know you can do it love. I am you.”

Star took a deep calming breath as another beam from Toffee's wand came hurling straight for them.

Older Star and Marco stood steadfast in front of Star, wands at the ready

“We'll block the attack” Older Marco told her “Once we do, make a run for the castle.”

“Right.” Star prepared herself, her body tensed and ready to run as soon as the attack was block but before that, she had one final question

“hey, so you two are a thing right?”

The two shared a playful smirk with the young princess as they raised their wands as one and shouted “Protego!” just as the attack hit.

There was a deep rumbling, the harsh noise of an explosion going off filled the air as chunks of Earth disappeared into the fog below.

Toffee's grin never left as the blackish green smoke slowly dissipated to reveal Star running full speed towards the castle, her hair trailing after her like a cape.

“What?” Toffee snarled “Fine, let's see how lucky you get this time.”

A glint of the pale green energy caught Star's gaze.

Star leapt sideways, avoiding the magical beam as it passed by. She glanced at the deeply etched grooves it cut into the ground but pressed forward.

Something flickered in the sky but before Star could react, several tendrils of Toffee's sickly green magic arched towards her from the sky.

Star tucked into a roll as one sunk into the ground behind her yet as she steady her footing, chunks of dirt and rock were thrown up as the spell exploded.

She skidded forward as another tendril streaked directly at her head. Star let herself drop, the spell barely missing her and erupting into a magical blast behind her.

Star sat up, eying the approaching spells. She took careful aim with her wand and let loose her own attack

The razor sharp hearts filled the air, catching and denoting several of Toffee's magical attacks harmlessly in midair but Star hadn't prevented all.

The tendrils of magic bobbed and weaved, twisting in any direction they could as they snaked ever closer to the helpless Star.

“CRYSTAL HEART ATTACK!” Star yelled “CRYSTAL HEART ATTACK!”

More explosions thundered above but still the attack drew ever closer.

5

boom

4

boom

3

boom

2

boom

Star threw one final barrage at the final tendril that lurked a foot away.

The hearts sailed true but the energy bent, corkscrewing around the hearts and dove for Star's feet.

“oh no...” Star muttered as the world around her exploded.

Death was not as quiet as Star thought it would be. In fact, it was kinda loud, a noisy metallic rumbling that reminded her a lot of Mr. Diaz's fancy horseless carriage, the same she once hitched a ride on the roof of. Such an odd and strange noise to hear as one dies.

“Got her?”

“Got me! Er yes”

Star coughed, finding herself very much alive and well. And sitting behind two other people as the trio rode ontop of that motorcycle Marco was too afraid to ride.

“Hello Star Butterfly, princess of Mewni” the blue eyed, blonde haired girl greeted politely “it is I, Star Butterfly, Princess of Mewni.”

Star was facing another version of herself.

This one was dressed in elegant, beautiful reddish pink dress, her long blonde hair braided carefully into a single ponytail with a blue bow resting on her head. 

“hi!” Star waved gratefully “What version of me are you?”

“You may call me princess Star” Princess Star told her gently with an air of refined grace “I am the version of you that was sent to Saint O's”

“Oh no!” Star felt a chill run down her body “Does that mean...?”

“A bit” Princess Star answered truthfully “I admit I was a bit of a stick in the mud but Marco has been teaching me....”

“Marco?” Star interrupted, looking past the annoyed princess and to her version of their best friend.

“Whoa....bad boy...” Star muttered dreamily taking sight of this Marco. He wore a black jacket over his red hoodie, purple beanie resting comfortably on his head with a lone band aid placed over one of his cheeks. He revved the motorcycle unnecessarily with his finger gloves, almost like he was showing off. 

“Marco!” Princess Star scolded, hitting his back more out of playful flirtation than malice “Don't show off”

“Why Princess?” Bad Boy Marco replied with smug tone “jealous?”

“I am not jealous. A lady does not get jealous.”

“Then don't be, it's you, right?”

Princess Star gasped, hitting his back once more “No, I am me and she is another version of me. We are not the same therefore stop trying to flirt with me! Er, her! YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!”

“Whatever you say princess” BB Marco gave a cheeky wink, turning to face the road while completely missing Princess Star's burning face.

“Whoa” Star whispered to herself “So you and Marco? Niiiiiiiiice.”

“We're not dating!” Princess Star defensively answered “We are friends! As if I would go out with such a mean, jerky, arrogance, kind, handsome teen such as himself.”

“Umm princess?” Star raised an eyebrow “You know you called him handsome right?”

“I DID NOT!”

“Heads up” BB Marco revved engine once more to catch their attention “Incoming, hold on tight Princess...and umm princess.”

Princess Star hugged BB Marco's waist tightly, placing cheek against his back as if to hear his heartbeat.

Star looked awkwardly at Princess Star's waist. Vanilla Star had done loads of awkward, strange and baffling things but she drew the line at holding her own waist. She opted to hold onto the handle bar located at the back of the cycle.

Toffee's magical exploding tendrils filled the sky again but Star was far more maneuverable this time.

BB Marco's cycle effortlessly dodged and twisted around the assault, bring no harm to either Stars and leaving a wake of cool looking explosions behind the trio.

“So?” BB Marco smiled smugly towards his Star “Have I finally earned that kiss?”

Star stifled a laugh as Princess Star's face went from bright red to a burning inferno, her pink hearts glowing fiercely

“I-I...” Princess Star stammered

“I'm kidding princess, I wouldn't make you do anything you don't want.”

Princess Star just stared at her Marco's back, conflict and longing playing out all over her face.

“You should totally kiss him.” Star whispered into the stunned Princess's ear

“Wha?”

“He wants you to” Star gently told her “He's flirting with you. He wants that kiss.”

Princess Star looked unsure of herself but as the palace began to tower over the group, both her and her Marco began to flicker out of existence, their speed dramatically slowing with each passing second

“Whoops” BB Marco said apologetically “This is your stop Star!”

“Thanks for the ride!” Star cheerfully beamed before whispering into her other self's ear “Trust me, you'll regret it if you don't.”

With one mighty kick, Star flew off the bike as it and its riders vanished into thin air.

Star brushed her hair back into place as she looked up at the massive palace, the hole she was flung out of still smoking dangerously.

“Oh good, I though this fight was going to be a little boring” Star was annoyed at how clear Toffee's voice carried “I don't know how you pulled that little clone trick off but I assure you it won't help you this time.”

“Well I'm at your door” Star mockingly pointed the gate of the fortress “I'd say it got me pretty far, so”

Star knew she was childish sticking her tongue out at her arch nemesis but he had just tried to kill her, she felt that was enough justification for the act.  

A thick magical beam sunk into the ground before Star, the ground shaking and rumbling uncontrollably

“Oh Pegasus poop” Star muttered as thorny, wiggling vines rose from where Toffee struck.

The vines struck fast and hard, lashing at Star who barely manged to protect herself

“Narwhal blast!”  

The enchanted mammal managed to get a grand total of a foot before the vines ensnared the helpless creature in its grip

“Ugh” Star moaned “Right, sharp things! Sharp things for plant things”

Th melodic flourish chimed as rows of sharpened hearts mowed down the vines easily but with each one cut down, another quickly replaced it. Every second the scattered vines became thicker and denser, growing higher and higher until it towered over Star, her magical attacks doing little other than chip away tiny, insignificant parts of the forest.

“If you want fight, why do you keep slowing me down?” Star yelled towards the infuriating reptile.

The vines moved and shifted subtly before lunging at Star but she was ready this time. Raising her wand high, Star shot a rainbow dead center of the encroaching foliage.

Silence.

then a small, low crackling grew louder and louder as the refracted light burst into flames and lit the evil vines ablaze.

Star stood proudly before wiping the sweat off her brow.

“aright, time for....”

The ground shook violently as a giant snake-like vine broke through the floor, curling and rising higher and higher.

“Oh come on!” Star gestured to her foe “You're a freaking lizard! WHERE IS EVERYTHING SNAKES WITH YOU?! WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE SNAKES?!”

The vine let out a fierce roar, actually opening and closing like it possessed a mouth.

a terrifying idea to say that least.

The vine snake snapped at Star, slowly edging closer in case she had any more trick up her sleeves.

Star twirled the wand in her expertly, mentally sifting through her catalog of spells in her mind when an elated war cry came from nowhere

“YAAAA!

The snake stared at Star and Star shrugged in response.

The vine glanced up for the briefest moment as a blur sea green and yellow fell from the sky

The vine looked down and broke apart, sliced cleanly down the middle.

The figure rose, stretching their body at and cracking their knuckles. They wore a little green sleep cap with devil horns protruding out of it, red gloves with a metal shield slung on their back with a single star crest engraved on its surface. The ears were sleek back like an elf's and sword clutched firmly in one hand, the hilt a perfect replica of Star's wand.

It didn't take much for Star to guess who this was but the tunic was a very familiar color.

“hi other me!” Star waved cheerfully.

Elfin Star turned back, giving herself a reassuring grin and thumbs up.

“I gotta say” Star told herself as she inched closer “I look good. maybe I should rock the whole forest elf outfit more often.”

Elfin Star beamed happily, excitedly nodding in agreement.

“Umm, do you talk? At all?”

Elf Star opened her mouth before sheepishly closing it.

“Ah, I see. Sorry.”

Elfin Star waved her off, still maintaining the same bright smile Star wore herself.

“So where's your...?”

A hiss erupted from behind and the vine snake rose once more, mouth opened wide and ready to swallow the two whole.

Star reached for her wand as Elfin Star pulled back with her sword but there was no need.

A flurry of magical energy hit the creature square in its chest, a thin layer of frost spreading from the impact point

The vine slowed, dully thrashing about as the ice began to cover every inch of the magical being, encasing it within an icy prison in mere seconds.

“I told you not run off without me Star.”

Elfin Star appeared shy and nervous as another figure floated from above, a girl, it seemed, with long, brown hair tied in a single ponytail and wearing a rather nice, bell shaped purple dress.

“Oh hello! Nice to meet you!” Star walked up to the stranger “Thanks for helping when you did, umm...”

“Star” an all too familiar voice replied, completely deadpanned “It's me”

“Marco?” Star questioned, glance up and down his outfit “Aww, I forgot how good you looked in a dress.”

“Thanks. Sorry I'm in hiding. They're looking for Prince Marco of Hyrule, not Princess Turdina, adopted daughter. We kinda  got sucked into this portal and sent here.”

“Hey” Star said with a smile “No big deal. It's all good. So, why doesn't your Star speak?”

Elfin Star stood, making slashing motions at the air and numerous grunts, noises and yells yet curiously spoke no words.

Princess Marco shrugged “I dunno, she's usually really talkative. Maybe it's your universe or something. Don't worry, I'm sure she'll talk plenty next time we show up”

Star raised an eyebrow “Next time?”

A sudden snarling broke the peace. The vines began to rise from the Earth once more.

“UGH!” Star clutched at her hair “These things are like weeds, they just keep coming back!”

“I think that's the idea!” Princess Marco shouted, his hands outstretched as a wave of flames poured out of his palms “We need to get you Toffee before we disappear!”

“yeah!” Star agreed earnestly, cutting down vines with well placed hearts to the stems “that would really great of you!”

“On it! STAR!”

Both Star's snapped to attention.

“ugh, my Star!”

Elfin Star's smile was infectious as she leapt backwards and twirled her body midair, her blade slashing and cutting down any vine that tried to reach for her. She landed on a single knee, planting her shield firmly on the ground and whistled for Star.

“What are we doing?” Star shouted throwing her hearts in a defensive circular.

“Catching you a ride!” Princess Marco replied before quickly pushing Star towards the waiting warrior as he sent a wave of icy daggers into a newly form bunch of plants.

Star stumbled for a moment before breaking into a run, trusting her other self to have excellent aim.

Star jumped as high as she could, twirling gracefully before landing directly on a waiting shield, Elfin Star giving a nod of approval before whistling once more.

Princess Marco waved with his hand and the two Stars rocketed upwards riding onto top a wall completely made of ice. Star held onto the shield as tight as she could as they rose closer to where Toffee stood and with one great push from the warrior, Star flew through the air.

Elfin Star waved goodbye as she fell back to Earth, sword drawn.

Star flailed for a moment when she sailed through the opening to resume the battle with Toffee.

Star's eyes widened for a moment as Marco lay on the floor, unmoving but breathing

“Marco!” Star took a step forward but a beam of powerful magic met her instead

Star raised her wand, catching the deadly attack before it reached her but she could feel her feet slipping as the spell threatened to push her outside once more.

Toffee gave an impressed nod, eyes narrowing suspiciously “You are not ready princess and your little boyfriend was no match either.”

Star gritted her teeth, focusing on push Toffee's spell back but to no avail. She had no room to move and it took all she had just to stop him from blasting her out again.

“It's over.” Toffee told her with a hint of finality “Give up. I've got the magic, I've got Marco and you are literally at the end of your rope.”

Star let out a gasp as her foot slipped for a moment and she teetered over open air.

“See?” Toffee chuckled “The game is over princess. Give it up”

“NO!”

Star swung as hard as she could, pushing the spell away while steadying her footing once more.

The magical beam dug across the walls and ceiling, scaring the perfect interior and marring its appearance.

Star flick her wrist towards Toffee, a beam of blue energy covered with hearts directly towards the distracted monster

Toffee turned around to see the attack coming. He took the brunt of it, catching it with the shard but he skidded backwards, nearly falling over from the force of Star's attack.

Star growled and rushed into the room, throwing every spell she could think of

“CRYSTAL HEART ATTACKS!”

Toffee created a barrier that easily caught the sharp hearts

“Narwhal attack!”

Toffee sidestepped the attack, glaring at the magical princess who drew closer.

“HONEY BEE TORNADO SWARM!”

Toffee grew impatient, slashing through the sticky substance with wave of his hand

Star swung her wand this way and that, hoping to overwhelm her foe through sheer force but Toffee was far more experience with magic than he let on.

“Give it up princess” he taunted, absorbing her beams of magic with shard effortlessly “I know about the wand and magic than you could ever hope to learn.”

“What?!” Star cried back before letting loose a gasp of surprise. She leapt as the laser-like beam of Toffee nearly skewered her in half “how is that possible?”

“It doesn't matter” Toffee shrugged, deflecting an incoming narwhal with a flick of his wrist “What matters is you're out of your league princess”

Toffee's smirk was bone chilling as he gestured to Star. A barrage of green tendrils of energy shot out, spreading wide before closing in on Star.

“No!” Star held the wand close

The palace shook from the force of explosion, rocking violently as bits and pieces of the ancient structure broke apart and crumbled against the floor.

Star coughed weakly, struggling to reach for the wand just inches away.

She couldn't give up, she couldn't let Toffee get away with this.

Star felt her heart stop as Toffee's foot placed itself firmly on top of her only chance of stopping him

She looked up to find his hand pointed directly in her face, the shard glowing ominously with a green glimmer.

“Last words?”

“Yeah!” Star shouted “POOPY HEAD!”

Toffee frowned, his moment of glory undermined by Star's childish behavior “Really? The end of your life and those are your last words? Ugh, have some self respect princess.”

“She does, she was just calling for me.”

Toffee whirled around as a bright beam of magic narrowly missed him.

Toffee hissed angrily, his neck lightly charred and burnt

“WHO ARE YOU?” Toffee snarled.

The young teen gave a mischievous smile, tucking his short blonde hair further under his red colored baseball cap with devil horns and star superimposed on it. His blue t-shirt with tiny puppy was an odd choice of battle attire as was his green sweater tied around his waist. Greenish blue pants and high-top rhino sneakers were just strange but nothing made Toffee's blood boil more than the lightning bolt birthmarks on his cheeks.

“What are....”

“Marcia now!”

“Right Comet!”

Another person came into view, a pretty girl whose long brown was tied in a single ponytail, with a familiar red hoodie though the bike shorts/legging combo was strange to Star.

Marcia lunged at Toffee without warning.

Toffee snarled, rising his hand and taking aim at the teenage pip squeak.

“Nope!”

Toffee growled as a blue colored boxing glove connected with his face, sending him staggering backwards.

Comet shot him a cocky wink and Toffee's fury boiled.

Toffee rose his hand once more only for Marcia's kick to catch his stomach, knocking all the breath out of him.

“Great job mar mar!” Comet smiled brightly.

Marcia blushed, scratching the back of her head sheepishly while returning Comet's smile.

Toffee fumed, anger building quickly.

He dove for Marcia only for a narwhal to intercept him midair.  He tumbled across the floor, rolling uncontrollably until he slammed against the far wall.

Toffee look carefully at the trio of troublemakers.

“ENOUGH!” Toffee scream, aiming directly for his enemies and letting loose the most powerful spell he could muster.

The sickly green beam encompassed the entire room, charring and melt away the stone tile floor as it streaked by.

Marcia instinctively shielded herself with her arm. Comet and Star stepped forward and caught the blast with their wands.

“We can't hold this! Even with two wands!” Comet shouted over the howl and crackling of the colliding magic

“I know!” Star answered “We need a way to stop him!”

Comet and Star could hear the scraping of their feet against the tile, the strain to keep their footing amongst this magical assault almost too much to bear.

Comet coughed, his entire being flickering for a moment

Comet and Star were pushed back further, their wands groaning under the pressure of Toffee's spell.

“Comet!” Star cried

“I know!” Comet replied “We're going going to disappear soon! WE NEED A PLAN!”

Star looked past the blinding illumination of the spells and smiled to herself.

“No, we need a Marco!”

Comet was confused “What's a Marco?”

Toffee grinned to himself, an insane smirk. He savored the fear on the magical brats faces. This was it. IT WAS OVER

“I WIN!”

“Wrong lizard brain!”

Toffee let out an agonized, tormented scream of pure pain as Marco wobbled uncontrollably and leaned on his sword for support.

Toffee's now severed hand sailed freely through the air as Comet cheered “so that's a Marco!”

Toffee fell to his knee, clutching as his dismembered hand tightly.

Toffee looked only to find Star, hearts glimmering in the darkness of the castle.

Toffee glared as Star stood over him, wand at the ready.

Anger turned to shock as Toffee saw the truth in a moment of clarity.

Like thousands of impossible images superimposed on top each other, Toffee saw countless Stars, wand drawn, righteous fury in their eyes.

But they weren't the same.

No they were all different.

There was a small kitty Star, An Elfish Star with a blade, an older Star with elegant clothing holding rather gearlike gun.

There was Star dressed an ancient Greek, Star weairng a blue hoodie and glasses. Star with a simple wand, Star in a strange school unicorn. Star carrying some sort of strange light sword weapon

Star with a hat, Star fully armored, Star in her princess attire, Star in regular clothing.

STAR, STAR, STAR!

But the one he could see clearly, the one that frightened him the most was Queen Star. A regal yet curious version of Star he'd seen once before...in an impossible dream filled with shadows and darkness.....when he went by another name.....

“Felix” Toffee muttered for no reason.

Marco took his place Star's side and like the princess, countless versions of him superimposed themselves but like Star, the one that stood out was an older, more stern looking Marco who held a sliver blade that glowed like sun, his chest blazing with a strange and powerful light.

“We told you” Star and Marco spoke together, wand and sword raised together “never again.”

Toffee chuckled to himself. They didn't even know what they spoke of.

There was a flash and before the swirling magical beams of blue and yellow overtook him, Toffee muttered to himself.

“Do your own dirty work Nox. Ugh, I hate Butterfly's”