#kim lip goth

[hyacinth-sims]

sims 2 premades as memes/texts/shitposts (this is more strangetown than i was expecting edition)

[kaheinheart]

۫ ִ⟡ ֺ۪ ⭒ ݂ ? 非常識

[slowd1ving]

Hiiiii can u write Kim Dokja x Goth!Male!reader this sponsor constellation is Apollo and The reader is a simp for Dokja ( I love this man )

LOVE LIKE BLOOD ・゜゜KIM DOKJA

“The life is short, and I’m running faster all the time, Strength and beauty destined to decay, So cut the rose in full bloom.” By chance you meet him, by chance you become his friend, by chance you stay by his side; until it cannot be called fickle, capricious chance any longer, but an example of the inevitable law of universal attraction between two starving masses. art by @ 1L9l2Aa8UCL0IGJ (blackbox) on x! also thank you anon this ask was so big brained I yapped on for like 5k words (very sorry if you wanted headcanon/drabble form I got the most profound inspiration for this at like 3am :3) also damn you have no idea how many song titles I was perusing trying to find a suitable one for this... pairing: kim dokja + male goth reader warnings: pretty graphic metaphors, child abandonment/implied parental death, child neglect + abuse, alcohol, smoking, depression + bullying, hurt/comfort, injury, violence (as it's orv), does 10+ year long pining and oddly tense homoeroticism need a warning, anon I hope you ENJOY reading because I enjoyed writing wc: 5.6k (YAP because i love this silly man, I've never written so much for a request before lmao)

ORV MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Fundamentally, you and him are the same. 

There’s a sense of loss that’s too heavy for either of your bodies to comprehend. Rather than a heart, there’s a black hole right where the organ lies; so greedy, so hungry for acknowledgement. Born blue into this world—deprived of oxygen yet wailing, screaming for your voice to be heard—it’s little wonder you’ve always been avaricious for the love your parents could never give. The hands cradling the babe were never loving; they were clinical, they were covered in sterile blue gloves and they smelled only of caustic antiseptic. There was no kiss on your slimy, puckered forehead. There was only the sting of alcoholic sanitiser. 

Kim Dokja is similar, yet his parents wouldn’t (rather than couldn’t, for in your embittered mind the two concepts were so different as to be alien) spare him scraps of care. Rather than press a kiss to their son’s awaiting cheek, only bruises blossomed where the love should’ve been. No flowers were given for Children’s Day—only oily blood spilling and macerating against his chubby hands as a last, vibrant gift for their son. 

These two black holes sputtered on their axes while they spun round each other: gluttonous, esurient for care that didn’t come with bruises and wailing grief. 

Seoul had been unusually cold; blue afternoons spanned across the school rooftops. They were frigid and foggy—perfect for avoiding detection. Thus, the boy without kisses (only contused skin) encountered another like him on the rooftop that day. Against the haze, your own cigarette smoke had dulled the edges of what he saw—a boy canted against the railing with rippling earphones and a head tilted so far back he could taste the polluted mist. 

A merger had occurred. 

And though neither of you said it, there was an unspoken recognition of each other’s greed in that moment. Your eyes, ghosting over his injuries while the heavy bass played and the prussic wisps trailed around him: deep reverberations sounding a bit too like his careening heartbeat—as he made sure no one had followed him up here, that he was safe. And his umbrous eyes—honed in on the cigarette wedged between your lips, now stained black from the gloss decorating your humourless smile.

Maybe it was just that inherent feeling of kinship that came with avariciousness: a snarling sort of camaraderie that snagged at your skin with its claws. The wounds left behind were tender, but tender was precisely the adjective you were looking for—as was he. 

And so, Kim Dokja found himself coming to this particular rooftop the next day. When his breathing came ragged and his vision began to swim, he instinctively sought the numbness the frigid azurine firmament would bring. Like a wounded animal, he sought safety. Flight over fight—a lesson he’d learnt too late. Bruised fists would never save him. 

There you sat—eyes closed and lips still glossed in modest black. There were silver rings on your hands; rings he’d seen flashing before his eyes before he was hit, that those people no longer sported. Quietly, he matched up the scrapes on your own knuckles to the ones decorating their faces: to their unusual sullenness today. They’d furtively sequestered themselves in a club room all break, touching their swollen lips and eyes with bruised fists. Bruised fists. Like trophies, the achromatic metal glinted against the cobalt haze, and for once, his heart didn’t skip any beats at the sight of the gleaming metal. Neither did you acknowledge his presence nor their sins, but still, he sat on the same bench you were sprawled upon: hugging his bag to his chest while he scrolled the hallowed pixels of Ways of Survival. 

There was no grand exchange of words, no heartfelt conversations between Kim Dokja and the boy with a messed-up uniform. 

This was how tentative company was kept for a fragile week. 

Tuesday was the day that fragility finally shattered. He still remembers every detail about it—down to the particular cigarette brand you’d purchased that morning, down to the chips in your dark nail polish, down to just how many rings you’d worn on your left hand (three—it was three rings). Tears had spilled down his cheeks that afternoon; they warped and distorted the words that had saved him thus far, evoked from the pain in his purple ribs and his empty stomach. Somehow, the salt he’d kept tightly bound had been coaxed by your cold presence—perhaps, knowing your indifference made it easier to cry pathetically in front of you. 

You still didn’t speak, but you did hand him a tissue. You still didn’t speak, but you did press your shoulder to his own trembling one: smelling of caustic smoke, and something rich and sweet lingering beneath the plumes. You still didn’t speak, but your rings clinked on your left hand as you unhooked the earbud in your pierced ear and offered it to him: fingers brushed against his palm as he was forcibly shocked out of crying any further, like a blubbering child faced with such a conundrum that their little brains focused entirely on that rather than the reason for their tears. 

Melancholy had streamed out of the device. Doleful chords twined against threnetic voices—which he could not translate nor understand but could feel in pulsing waves. 

In that short whorl in the great machine of time, in the chill of the blue hour, he could not help but feel warm.

And thus, that Tuesday changed the trajectory of this merger somewhat. A deafening hum had finally blossomed from the gargantuan event; your presence could no longer be described as distant. 

When he went to class the next day, you were in the seat next to him: a mirage brought on by his lack of food, no doubt. He limped to his desk, but there your corporeal form remained: this time with silver chains lining the base of your throat and a dry, sharp grin decorating your face. Sure, he knew there was a student that never showed up in his class, but he wasn’t expecting it to be you: your name now a permanent fixture in his mind. 

There was a new name for this phenomenon: friendship. 

The boy, with the pensive music and trophies stolen from Dokja’s tormentors, smiled up at the reader staring at him. It was an inviting gesture: the proverbial hand reaching out, the hand which he took.

You weren’t a particularly talkative friend at first: preferring to simply share your music rather than speak much. That was fine with him—it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to reading alone. Then, you started bringing boxes of food alongside your cigarettes: containers that lacked the refinement of store bought meals. One for you, and one sheepishly thrust out to him with a smile bright as burst yolk and as messy as it too. Consequently, he returned a wobbly, unsure smile back at you—not mentioning that the vegetables were slightly burnt, slightly too salty. But that was fine. The more lunches you brought, the more skilled your hands became—until he never felt truly full unless he was eating what you gave him. 

In return, he cracked open his soul: pried its rusted walls with bleeding fingernails in a gesture never before seen, not since his childhood when he still knew what hope meant. Dokja for once didn’t blubber apologies and pleas for mercy—but became a teenager rather than a groveller. He complained about teachers, he discussed Ways of Survival at length (noting how you listened even when you showed no particular interest in reading it), he finally developed his own, modest aspirations for his own life. Lying in his bed in his lonely apartament, it suddenly didn’t feel so claustrophobic (yet somehow far too big for one) when you were there with your shoulder just brushing his own. 

You were not as cold as you seemed: though this was always obvious from that fateful Tuesday. You made fun of and empathised with the eternal regressor; you diligently stood at his half-broken stove frying meat and vegetables; and you talked at length about whatever band you were currently into—“I’ll take you to one of their concerts when we’re older,” leaving your lips, for your dense black-hole hearts did not conceptualise a future where the other was not present. He saw your loneliness—heard the rumours of you bouncing around from orphanage to orphanage, roaming the streets and working nights rather than return to that boreal home. 

So, more nights than not, he woke up from his nightmares to see you sleeping on the small couch in his home—legs just about peeking over the armrest, for your avarice didn’t only cover the abstract but the heaps of food you swiped from the canteen (and over the past two years he’d known you, you got your growth spurt far more obviously than he had). It partly contributed to almost skittish aversion his tormentors had of him—one you never did acknowledge, and so he learnt quickly to not mention it either. In this way, he too never mentioned why he invited you to sleep over more nights than not. And so, neither of your selfish hearts ever spoke a word of pity, but rather conveyed an unspoken understanding that bound the two of you in this merger. 

This routine continued.

He enlisted after graduating from the local university, and so did you—suffering the eighteen months of hazing with the smoke lingering on your skin and that same, humourless smile he first saw on your face. Frigid mornings turned his own lips as blue as the sky, yet he found it was harder to feel the chill when he saw you. Just like back then, you wore the same smile that brimmed with such colour it was practically incandescent with its heat. 

Two outcasts. It was hilariously terrible. Two outcasts, still sharing a pair of earbuds that had seen better days—blaring out the dolorous music that had grown on him, that described this situation perfectly. Stars were strewn in the fabric enveloped around you: memories that would continue to shine even after the world slowly marched towards its apocalypse. 

In that cramped bunkroom, it had been just like school—blue nights with the moon just barely peeking through the window, with your leg still hanging off the side of the bunk and within his field of vision. And he still found the steady rise and fall of your breathing far more comforting than any white noise: like a guard dog, almost, you still shielded him by his proximity to you throughout the brutal eighteen months of mandated service. 

Adulthood had crept up unbidden. In his single-room apartment, he sat on his couch with your legs sprawled just as lazy as they had been eight years prior. Though, your appearance certainly had changed—beneath the loose material of your tank top, he could see the ink seeping and decorating your skin. He’d gone with you to the underground artists right after the discharge: worriedly biting his lip while you simply grinned at him as if there wasn’t a needle pressing into you. And despite his initial concern, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away—sneaking glances even as he browsed through job sites since the winding patterns under the fabric and silver jewellery was oddly entrancing to the eye. 

In the end, he applied to the same company you had done on a whim: Minosoft, where you carefully wiped off the black residue on your lips and the smudged pencil round your eyes. You still shared your earbud with him on the subway (though you’d sent him your playlist aeons ago), you still smoked the same brand you did eight years ago, you still occasionally put on those rings you’d kept as prized trophies, you still made two sets of lunches for work. You still listened over drinks while hammered Dokja updated you on the latest update of Ways of Survival. You still angled your body just so, so that you would bear the brunt of Han Myungoh’s scolding rather than him. 

You hadn’t changed. 

But in some ways, he could no longer see the same boyish guy who’d awkwardly offered him his earbuds nine years ago. The look in your eyes was far more intense, the messy smiles splitting your cheeks were sharper, more overwhelming, and there was no longer any clumsiness in your movements from your sudden growth spurt from years prior. Even the very hand that occasionally clasped his shoulder, even the legs that you still casually flung over his on his beaten old couch, were far more scorching than he remembered. 

You had changed. 

And in the end, it was him who was left behind. 

Eternal loser, Kim Dokja. 

Though, he could never find fault with you for that. Not when you leaned over the tangle of limbs on his couch, not when he caught the thread of oud lingering beneath the smoke on your throat, and not when you thrust your phone screen at his face with that stupidly boyish grin that only peeked out when you brimmed with excitement—with a “look, I finally got us tickets for this festival!”. And he knew at that moment that you weren’t leaving him behind: stretching out your rough palm just like you had more than a decade ago. 

He let you tousle his hair to give it more spikes. He let you dress him up in your clothes—they sat too large on his frame, but he found himself unconsciously burying his body in the fabric that smelled like your laundry. He let you slip your rings onto his fingers: slender digits jolting at the sensation of the cool metal and the action itself. 

Finally, he let you rub your dark pencil on his lashline—lids fluttering up at yours while he did his best to not avert his stare. His gaze traced the bold lines of your brows and eyes, and finally onto the dark stain on your lips as you bit them in concentration. “There,” you’d murmured, gently grasping his chin. “That looks pretty.” 

And just like the loser he was, he felt his chest tighten at the casual compliment, for seemingly no reason. 

Over the din of the hall, he could barely hear the ebb and flow of music. Goth chords jostled him, weaving past the throes of post-punk and metal as band after band took the stage. In this crush of people, he was more focused on how your index finger threaded through his left-most belt loop; linking the two of you just enough that he wouldn’t get thrown into the mosh pit. No doubt the buzz of cheap liquor contributed to his distracted train of thoughts—he never was the best at handling alcohol. His hazy gaze distorted his view of your side profile; in the dim lights, obviously the wide smile (yolk-like, as was your grin years back) couldn’t possibly be that bright. 

It was at this moment that sentimentality got to him. He was thankful that his friend had stuck by his side for so long: gazing so softly at your happy expression he was unaware of his look himself. 

This was the night before the apocalypse began. 

When the crowds trickled out, when the reverb of bass still played through the club, you hugged him tight for coming with you. Outcast with the outcast, you’d thought introspectively. There were cheap spirits clouding your mind that night—a hangover would surely strike you come morning—which was why you weren’t as reserved as you usually were. As you leaned down to press the man into your arms, your lips had brushed past his cheek accidentally, and you could feel the black hole in the centre of your chest constrict. 

Profanities had whirled through your mind when the dark smudge remained on his cheek, and especially so as he made no move to wipe the umbrous gloss off on the subway back. Or maybe he just hadn’t noticed—not with the flush on his cheeks from the alcohol in his system. There was a terrible, discordant crescendo to your pulse as you gazed at him. The gloss, from where it smeared slightly past the boundaries of your lips, burned your skin. But you made no moves to wipe the corners either—for this night only, there was something linking Kim Dokja to you. 

Thus, for the first time since he was a mere babe cradled in his mother’s arms, there was a kiss planted on his cheek that wasn’t from a fist. An accidental one, but one that could not be considered devoid of affection. And though neither of you remembered it after the hazy stupor faded, it did not change the fact that it happened nonetheless. 

A small snippet of joy in the bleak landscape. A caesura found within the long, winding elegy of this world. A reprieve before tragedy. 

It was a fitting conclusion for the night before the end. 

✦ . 　⁺ 

[The free service has now been terminated.]

Back in the carriage, wedged between Yoo Sangah and Kim Dokja, the two of you had shared a glance confirming the unspoken truth. Minds intrinsically linked together—he did not need to speak for you to understand his thoughts immediately. And Yoo Sangah had recognised this—as did she remember the devoted gleam in your eyes whenever you spoke to or of the man seated adjacent to you. Yet ultimately, her lips would remain closed. 

When the scenarios began, it was Kim Dokja’s turn to repay you. He would be your shield moving forward—protecting your messy smile even as the world burned away. He vowed this to himself, and though the promise was heard only by him, it did not change the fact that the constellations watching him and his companions could see the oath brimming from him as he put you first. 

[Almighty Sun has sponsored you.]

Even when Apollo chose you as his incarnation, even when you were just as capable as you had been before the cataclysm occurred—he could not help but feel his fists clench as you put yourself in danger. 

“Hold on,” you’d murmured, rings flashing as you’d caught his wrist in your firm grasp. Even with his coins improving his stats, he still felt so much weaker than you—still the boy who ran to the rooftops while your fists bruised against the faces of those who tormented him. 

Had your touch always been so scalding?

Privately, he thought Apollo had chosen the right person—smile bright as the sun, skilled fingers deft enough to play the electric guitar you’d bought on a whim, presence practically a healing balm for his soul. 

“You’re injured, Dokja-ya.” And the words had made him shiver as the syllables ghosted over his flesh—your face was too close to his chest where he’d been slashed by a monster, while the affectionate tone added to his name made this situation far worse than it was. Secluded like this, in an abandoned corner of the station, it was easy to misread the situation; this was the only reason his face flushed red. His friend was far too close. When those aforementioned fingertips brushed over the wound—just grazing the wounded flesh—he jolted. From the pain, of course. 

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire has sponsored 200 coins.]

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire would like to see more action.]

“Steady.” You eased him against a pillar while ignoring the message—ignoring how your pulse was now leaden in your mouth, how the golden gleam stitching flesh back together seemed far more shaky than usual. Though, you couldn’t ignore the pain you felt as you saw the rise and fall of his torso grow shallow; you were useless when it counted—arrows meeting their target far too late. 

“Dokja-ya,” you breathed, sweeping the hair that plastered to his clammy forehead. He didn’t meet your eyes, and the heavy feeling in your chest grew more burdensome. He was supposed to tell you what was wrong; as his best friend, you duly heard his complaints and dealt with them where you could. More often than not, you could intuitively tell what bothered him; much like you had from the very first day you saw him all those years ago. And as time passed, the object of your adoration only grew easier to read. 

But he was never avoidant like this. 

What happened? As you watched him leave with heavy steps and not a glance spared back, you could feel the crushing weight of the sky drop back down on your shoulders. Fuck. Burying your face in your hands, you barely registered the message that popped up. 

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire expresses her sympathy.]

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire says she knows how the two of you can make up.]

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire sponsors 69 coins.]

[The Almighty Sun tells the Demon-like Judge of Fire to not be stingy.]

[The Almighty Sun sponsors 6969 coins.]

[The Almighty Sun empathises with a lover’s quarrel.]

“Shut up,” you seethed, and the bad mood carried on late into the night. It was obvious to anyone with eyes; the conjured lamps lining the perimeter of camp had seethed with you. Gold had been interspersed with bleeding red—crackling like true fire, though it was anything but. Even the tattoos that lined your skin had begun eroding into ember-like patterns, as though lava was breaking through the dermis of your skin. 

Unsurprisingly, it was Yoo Sangah that had approached first: past the harsh glow of your lamps, gracefully weaving through the brightness with the light steps that belied her nebula. She’d taken a glance at the incandescent splintering of your body, your hands furiously working away at the guitar plugged into your practically-bulletproof earphones, and finally the imposing frame of Yoo Joonghyuk only a few metres away as he stood guard tonight. 

But when you paused, when you hastily yanked the buds from your ears, she could also see the wobble in your lip. The furrow in your brows wasn’t angry, it was anguished, while the fearsome glare in your eyes contained only pain. If she was being honest, it was hard to approach you at work and even nowadays—with ease, you picked off enemies from a distance and your longbow conveniently morphed into two curved daggers when it came down to it. You were a maelstrom with the capacity to take lives—stained with blood as you bared your proverbial teeth at any threats to Dokja. But it was precisely that that allowed her to see your stupidly blind adoration of this man. 

(“Your devotion will only hurt you,” she says, as if that will dissuade you. You’ll take whatever feeling he gives you: greedily swallowing each and every morsel of emotion. Tender is your heart, but tender is good. It means you aren’t going mad over the situation you’re in.

“Yoo Sangah, I appreciate the advice,” you reply politely—you do respect her, after all. “But I do not mind that.”)

Yoo Joonghyuk had bemusedly watched as she left: staring the the dim red tattoos strewn across your body as if they could possibly help him decipher the fool in front of him. His Sage’s Eye flashed as golden as your lamps for a brief moment—detecting that your statement had, in fact, been true. 

Fool, he’d said as your hands flew over the fretboard once more. Fool, as you disappeared up the stairs to the rooftop. Fool, when your lips had pressed together tightly against one another. 

You did mind, even when you thought it was the unequivocal truth that you didn’t. 

Maybe it was futile to even think it, but he thought that idiot didn’t deserve the long-standing care in your hands, and the veneration in the timbres of your voice. It was pointless to get attached to someone like that—especially when the end of the world was upon you. 

But you wouldn’t know that, since you could not read his mind. But you wouldn’t know that, since he would never explicitly say it. But you wouldn’t know that, since you’d long-since accepted your self-torture as perfectly and utterly a part of what came with knowing Kim Dokja for as long as you did. 

The rooftop was like all other rooftops. Similar. The same. Azurine fog was at your fingertips: just like that day all those years ago. Except this time, Kim Dokja was not in your sights, and you were left alone with wisps of smoke trailing from your lips and no other company save the glowing stick in your fingers. Just like it had been; before you met the boy with a heart as greedy and all-consuming as yours. Before the merger between two black holes occurred. Before he ran up to the rooftops with bruises on his face and placed new stars in the endless vacuum of your universe. 

There was no charge in your phone, but the song that played that day still rested heavy in your neurons as you sprawled out on the bench. Mindlessly, you summoned the lyre-turned-guitar: doleful chords germinated, flourished and withered away once more under distressed fingertips. It was a night between scenarios; another caesura in this ceaseless tragedy. Though those days were filled with an empty stomach and an endless struggle, they were your halcyon days. 

Just like that time almost twelve years back, it was a blue Monday once more. 

Just like that time almost twelve years back, you didn’t hear the heavy run of footsteps through the heavy burr of music. 

Just like that time almost twelve years back, Kim Dokja’s black hole heart pulsed with each discordant twang of chords—though this time the link was acutely clear to him. 

The boy who once tasted the mist and tilted his body into oblivion was no longer there: replaced by a man who’d faithfully stayed by him for more than a decade. Though you hadn’t changed, not at all; not when he could still see the rings you took off his bullies, gracing your fingers just as they had back then. A trophy, dedicated to his protection. When his plans involved his sacrifice, you were the first to reach him. Your face was the first he saw, tears brimming from your lash line. For despite how you’d grown into your looks, you wore your emotions clear on your face. Your heart had been taken from the cavity in your chest and replaced with a dense core that greedily always wanted; yet it had been sewn messily onto your sleeve rather than discarded. 

Kim Dokja suddenly remembered another interlude. A club, where the amorphous ebb and flow of bodies could not sweep him away from your side—since you kept him there, treasured his presence enough that you hooked your finger firmly into his belt loop and rooted him there. An anchor: you’ve always been the rock beneath his shaky feet, after all. He remembered that, and not the endless churn of music that made your face glow with happiness. 

(A black smear of gloss left on his cheek. His hands, carefully wiping eye pencil away yet not touching the remnants of your lips—not until it smudged away on its own, forgotten for all of time but this day.)

A sun of his own. The reader trod his slow orbit around you long before he could conceptualise the gravity that drew two masses towards each other. Newton’s theory of universal gravitation be damned; you were the only centre of the universe, the only body that ever existed to draw others towards your brilliant light. 

His eyes flickered over the smoke in your lips: the dim embers of a glow from the lines in your skin made it seem as though you were alight yourself. Instinctively, physically, he was compelled towards the patterns just like he had been all those years ago: your music, your stupid piercings and your stupid discussions about bands and the stupid way you listened attentively to his yapping about Ways of Survival. Stupid, because why did you do that? Why did you convince him to make a shrine for you in his heart? Stupid, because why is it only now that he can see what exactly lays atop the stone altar?

“Kim Dokja,” you spoke through your plumes, formal in the way he knew you spoke when you were upset and trying to keep it together. He swallowed, and he could feel the same pitter-patter of his pulse as he did all those years ago—heartbeat colliding loudly in his ear drums while he steps towards you, unsure. You didn’t let up with the strum of strings: electric in the drizzle of rain and wind and cold Seoul air. 

For once, he was the one looking down at your impassive face. He was the one brushing his fingers through your hair, he was the one whose hands made themselves comfortable on shoulders—for it’s always been you wrapped around him, you whose legs wedge on top of his domestically on his shitty couch in his shitty studio flat. 

“It’s Dokja-ya,” he corrected: tongue thick and leaden. It constricted his larynx and made his cadence oh so small at this moment. Tentative. Because he was your close friend and you his. He was the one who knows all your expressions—even the ones you deliberately tried to hide from everyone. He was the one who’s been with you the longest: always staring up at the muscle of your back while you act as his shield. He was the one who’s been blind. 

Your fingers halted against the strings and the instrument dissolved into the wind; the concert for two had reached its conclusion, just like it had all those months ago. For despite being packed full of people, the club only ever had two people in it for him. 

Lazily, those same hands that have bruised for him—but somehow had a touch that was far more painful than any torment that was physically inflicted on him—wrapped round his own that rested neatly on your shoulders. 

“Dokja-ya,” you answered, and the axis the world tilted on is finally righted. This man, Dokja thought—and his umbrous eyes traced down the warm lines of your face, stopping on your lips. Bittersweet. 

“Don’t leave me,” he all but begged—voice only a whisper. Don’t die on me, the black hole wanted to say instead; selfishly wishing for you to always be by his side so he doesn’t see you depart this world first. That would end him more than anything else. 

“I can’t leave you,” you murmured, and oh, the hand brushing his tear-stained cheek suddenly made more sense. “Dokja-ya, I should be telling you that.”

He pressed his face into your warm palm—scorching even with the boreal damp settling over his skin. There was something twisted within him that revels in your admission: that you, too, feared him abandoning you just as he feared you leaving him behind. 

“Idiot.” And he twined his fingers in yours, seeing the surprise on your face bloom—for he’s already established that you’re ever so easy to read. Idiot, because it’s ludicrous to even think that he’d ever willingly walk away from you like that. 

“You’re the idiot,” you whispered as your phantasmal hand ghosted from his cheek to his collar, yanking him so he fell onto the firm sprawl of your legs—in a way he’s never felt. So warm, he thought through the haze as he straddled your languid body—fit so right against you that there was none of the tension nor the anticipation that he might’ve felt. His hands splayed out onto your chest, feeling the steady beat of your heart, tracing the glowing lines he adored on your body. 

So warm, he thought as your hands gently cupped his face—for you’ve never been anything but soft with this stupid man perched on your lap. 

So warm, as your lips met his and he melted into your body. He could taste the acrid smoke on your tongue, but he could also taste the food you’d prepared earlier for him, and the traces of whiskey you’d scavenged. All traces of you; his insatiable heart could not help but want to merge into you. 

So warm, as your tongue melded against his and he could feel the seam of his mouth against yours grow ever more ragged and messy. His hands desperately curled into your shirt, and he could feel your palms pressing harshly against his waist and canting his torso into yours more—something which his avaricious heart eagerly swallowed. 

On a blue Monday just like this one, two boys met for the first time once more on a rooftop just like this one. 

Again. Like and like created a merger for the second time, or perhaps it was already the third. Or fourth. Or the thousand-eight-hundred-and-sixty-third time this has happened—over and over and over and over. 

Fate has a funny way of bringing people together, or maybe it’s just the intrinsic law of gravitation that binds two black holes in a binary system. 

Blue Monday. What a silly notion, when the man beneath Kim Dokja is as warm as the brilliant sun. 

✦ . 　⁺ 

Fellas is it gay to pine after your best friend for over ten years and have oddly homoerotic moments with them

✦ . 　⁺ 

EXTRAS

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire returns from her work and asks what she missed.]

[The Almighty Sun keeps his lips shut.]

[The Abyssal Flame Black Dragon stays silent.]

[The Prisoner of the Golden Headband, perhaps not fearing his imminent hair loss, opens his mouth.]

[The Demon-like Judge of Fire promptly goes catatonic and explodes.]

[roguehongsami]

Cult Leader.

—★ pairing/s: professor!hongjoong x fem!student

—★ genre/s: slow burn, fluff, smut, au

—★ synopsis: the struggle between freedom & autonomy, and routine in a relationship leaves you at crossroads. hongjoong waits at the end of one road w. his heart on his sleeve, hoping you eventually make the turn.

—★ content: teacher-student (late & early 20s, consensual), toys, dacryphilia, unprotected sex (condomize), mirror sex, creampie, cockwarming, breast play, overstimulation, spanking, degradation, praise.

—★ word count: 7.8k

—★ author's note: read cs to avoid confusion. story is focused on aaliyah from cs. her name is now Y/N, and Y/N from cs is now solana. have fun w. both perspectives. also, thank you for interacting w. my last story. it got 10x the traffic i was expecting. your support doesn't go unnoticed. xoxo.

* DISCLAIMER: THIS IS FICTIONAL. IT IS NOT A REPRESENTATION OF KIM HONGJOONG'S CHARACTER, PERSONALITY OR BEHAVIOUR. THIS IS SOLELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. *

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ lana del rey // cult leader

Solana had not been answering Y/N's calls. All of her attempts would go to voicemail after a few rings. The show was about to start and Solana was nowhere in sight. Not knowing what to do next, she started making her way through the crowd. Her best option was to go home at that point. The show was Solana's idea yet she was late for it. Frustrating doesn't even begin to cover it. She felt a hand grab her wrist. Startled, she whipped her head around and came face-to-face with the culprit.

Her eyes wide, she said, "Professor Kim?"

"What are you doing here?" he wore a beautiful smile.

"I came here for the show." Y/N said, matter-of-factly. "And maybe to get drunk." she admitted shamefully.

Hongjoong released her hand and pocketed his hands in his jeans. He smirked. "Aren't you supposed to be prepping for Yunho's test tomorrow?"

"Yes and no." she shrugged nonchalantly. "I already understand time signatures. And the test isn't until three o'clock."

"Did you come alone?"

"Well, I was supposed to be here with Solana but she's not answering my calls. I think she got held up at her drum lessons." she sighed, unable to hide her disappointment.

Hongjoong pondered on his thoughts before he let out, "Instead of ditching the show, why not keep each other company?"

Y/N chewed on her lower lip, uncertain if that would be a wise move. As much as she would've loved to spend time with Hongjoong, the last thing she wanted was to incur the wrath of the school committee. She only had one semester left but let's be honest, it was never in her nature to play by the book. Challenging authority and taking risks had always been her hallmark.

She accepted Hongjoong's offer, weaving their way through the crowd that was growing by the minute. He led them to a pub table with two chairs. A waitress took their drink orders and came back with a mai-tai for Y/N, and a beer for Hongjoong.

"I never pegged you for a Molchat Doma fan." Hongjoong took a swig of his beer.

She took a sip of drink. "Somebody said something similar when I went to a Selofan show in April." she chuckled lightly. "I don't look the part."

"To be fair, you wear a lot of yellow." he pulled his face jokingly. "Doesn't really scream 'goth', now does it?"

She fake gasped with her hand over her chest. "I just don't wanna box myself. Is that a crime?"

"No, it is not. And frankly, I admire your refusal to be bound by rules."

"So what's the story behind the split dye?"

He ran his fingers through his hair and gave the most charming smile. She could feel her heart skip a beat. If there was anybody who could capture Y/N's undivided attention, it was Hongjoong. Although it never seemed so, Y/N thought a lot about her professor. Hongjoong had the entire student body wrapped around his finger; girls wanted him and boys wanted to be him. The man's charisma was incomprehensible and his word was rule. He knew how far his influence could stretch but Y/N, she never gave him that satisfaction.

For every swoon, she snickered. Every compliment was met with a scoff.

Hongjoong reminded Y/N of everything she was. Even with the very little interaction they shared, he could read her like a book. The way he spoke, the way he carried himself, his lack of consideration for rules... He was her. Her nonchalance was merely a method of deflection. She was smitten. Hongjoong was well aware and he enjoyed indirectly pushing her buttons. This game of cat-and-mouse was just a subtle way to communicate with one another.

"I wanted to try something new. Something that could get everyone's attention." he smirked.

"Was the red not enough?" she rolled her eyes.

"The red never got your attention." he coaxed her.

Not expecting that response, Y/N's drink went down the wrong pipe and she choked. She regained her composure and mumbled, "Well played, Joong."

Hongjoong boasted. He had finally managed to crack her armour. His efforts were getting recognised but if Y/N was truly anything like him, she was going to make him sweat. And he was in it for the long run. It was the first chase he was fully going to commit himself to. He wanted her, and he was willing to work for her. "Desperation" was not the word, no. With a legion of girls who were dying to be bedded by the Kim Hongjoong, it was the girl with a stone in the place of her heart whom he desired. He was motivated.

As the night progressed, the pair exchanged more words than they ever had in during the year. Bartender was placing drinks on their table every hour. The background music fell away, both forgetting that they came for the very thing they were ignoring. The number of people began dwindling as soon as Molchat Doma finished their set. A few local bands came on but nobody was really attentive. It was 23:30 and the club was closing. Hongjoong paid for their drinks. They made their way outside, still chatting about. He drove her back home and watched as she entered her apartment complex, before taking himself back home.

"Y/N, can I borrow you for a sec?" Professor Jeong Yunho called out to Y/N as she was stepping out the door.

She backtracked and went to Yunho's desk. "Yes?"

"Do you have any idea why Solana's isn't attending my class?" his eyebrows creased.

"She won't tell me either. And I won't force her to." Y/N sucked her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest. "If you want an answer, just get her in a very public space. She hates getting cornered."

Yunho laid back in his chair and put his arms on the armrest. "Like after class?"

"No. 'Cause then she'll make up an excuse about needing to get to another class. The mixer next week, she'll be there."

"Thank you, Y/N. I'm starting a new chapter and she's going to fall behind." Yunho grabbed a paper on his desk and handed it to Y/N. "Monday's test results. Get it to her, please?"

As she walked down the hallway about to journey back to her complex, Lecture Hall 1117 — Guitar. Her hand hovered over the handle, unsure of her own actions. She pulled it down and slowly opened the door. As her eyes scanned the empty hall, different types of guitars stacked at the very back, Hongjoong's eyes landed on her frame with his eyebrows arched. An unexpected surprise. He had not spoken to Y/N since the show, and they had barely exchanged any words in class either.

Slowly entering the classroom, holding Hongjoong's gaze, she locked the door behind her. He turned around in his chair and set his pen on the table, seizing with grading papers. She stood awkwardly at the door, toying with her fingers like a little child. As terrified as she was, she was ready to start making an effort with Hongjoong.

That'll be freedom and a half.

"Thought you'd be gone by now." she spelled, her voice meek.

"Wanted to get some work done first." a shit-eating grin materialised across his face.

He sensed how uneasy she was, as if she had just admitted defeat. As much as he would have loved to revel in the situation, he was not about rub it in her face and ruin whatever chances he had with her.

He opened his arms and motioned for her to come to him. "Come here."

She remained planted in her place at the door.

"No funny business, I promise. Just come here." She moved into his embrace. He positioned her on his lap and begun rubbing circles on her back. Her head laid in the crook of his shoulder. She couldn't help but purr under his touch.

"Are we finally making progress?" he asked as he picked up his pen and continued grading papers.

"A little bit." her head still buried in his shoulder.

"A little bit." he parrotted. "You wouldn't even look at me in the first semester, so I'll take what I can get." he chuckled lightly, which prompted Y/N to reciprocate the gesture.

On the outskirts of the city, Hongjoong had his car parked on the side of a road near a field. The skies were gloomy, clouds a deep grey and a light breeze that made the grass sway. Y/N sat between Hongjoong's legs, with him leaning against the door, as they watched outside. He had his arms wrapped over her shoulders, chin rested on the top of her head.

"You really love the seventies, don't you?" she spoke softly.

"The clothes, the cars, the music. There's a flair to that decade that's just... special."

"'The freedom land of the seventies'." she slipped out of his hold and sat up, turning around to face him. "I'd always hear stories from my grandma from then."

His eyebrows creased in the middle. "Like what?"

"She was a free-loving hippie then, flowers in the hair and everything. Before she left the States, she got to see Jimi and Janis at Woodstock."

"You're lying, right?" he gave her a suspecting look.

"On the day Janis performed, she met a man named Graham. They were glued at the hip the whole weekend. Eventually they started dating."

"That doesn't sound so bad." Hongjoong chuckled.

Y/N gave him a blank stare, biting on the inside of her cheek. "Graham... was a cult leader. When they dated, grandma joined his cult. She never left his side. He could convince her to do anything."

Hongjoong sat upright and watched Y/N intensely, waiting for her to say she was lying.

"But Graham died in seventy-eight."

"What happened to the cult after he died?"

"It just dissipated, grandma was devastated. She loved him, no man has ever measured up to Graham in her eyes. Everyone thinks she's just a senile old woman with raging dementia but I don't." she leaned back on the seat, laying her head on the headrest. "She said it was the best time of her life. Always encouraging me to find my own freedom. She wants me to live." she turned her head to face Hongjoong. "'Lay down, my child'. Something Graham used to say to her."

"How does your grandpa feel about her loving Graham that much?"

"Probably tooting his own horn." A mischievous smile spread across her face, unable to mask her amusement. "Graham is my granddad."

Hongjoong was too dumbfounded to gather the words to speak. He stared at her blankly and all she could do was keep smiling. They sat in silence for a few moments, holding each other's gaze. Hongjoong fixed his posture and planted his feet on the floor. He cupped her face. She held his wrists, looking at him through her lashes. She gulped to ease the anxiety creeping in. The atmosphere suddenly became heavy, all that could be heard was their breathing.

"Everyone either wants to be you or be with you. Your personal 'yes-men'. They're so desperate for your approval, for you. It's very..." she broke the silence, their lips grazing.

"Cult-like?" he let go of her face and held her hands. A smirk breaking out. "Do I make you feel free?"

She nodded in agreement. "I think our little back and forth is freeing. You don't rush me." her voice was faint. She dropped her head, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"It took an entire semester to get you to talk to me, acknowledge me. I can wait a while longer."

"I just need you to hold my hand until I'm ready. I don't think you'd ever stifle my freewill but I need to be sure."

He pressed his lips to hers. She happily obliged. He snaked his arms around her waist, hoisting her up to his lap. Her hand was pressed against the window, the other slinked over his shoulder. Their breathing picked up, body temperature slowly rising. He slid his hands under her shirt, sending shivers down her spine. His lips moved down to her neck, nipping at the skin.

A downpour struck down on Hongjoong's car, jolting them out of their little bubble. As he kept tracing kisses and bites on her neck and shoulders, she was distracted by the droplets on the window. Her fingers following the drops sliding down. She broke away from Hongjoong. His eyebrows creased, confused. She opened the door and stepped out. The rain smacking against her skin.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Hongjoong asked as he slid to the door.

He grabbed her wrist and she looked down on him while he sat in the car. "I don't know."

She ran off into the field until she reached the very center. Her head cocked up to the sky, eyes closed. Rain washed down her face. Her shirt became translucent, sticking to her skin. Her entire body was drenched. She spread her arms out.

"I did everything I wanted. I lived. I loved. And now it's your turn."

"But I don't know how..."

"Yes, you do. You're just scared, that's it." she handed her a bowl of snacks. "As for love, you'll know when you've found the one. He'll be there no matter what."

Spin. Spin. Spin.

She recalled a conversation she had with her grandmother. Her words rang true. There was fluttering in her stomach. But sometimes those butterflies could be warning signs. Unsure which it was. Harbingers of a beautiful something or an awful auspice.

Hongjoong snuck up on her as she was so engrossed with what was in her head. He grabbed her waist and held her hand in his. He spun her around once more, with one knee bent, he dipped her. They held their position a few seconds before he reeled her back in and held her. She rested her hands around his neck and leaned in to kiss him. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Soon you'll realise that you can have me without sacrifice. And I'll be right here when you do."

Most students had already taken their place in the hall. Some were in the back getting their guitars of the rack. Y/N was tuning her guitar, readying herself for the day's lesson. She was feeling a bit under the weather that day; her face was flushed and nose congested, an occasional sneeze into her sweater sleeve. Her little liberty expedition into the rain had left her with a parting gift; a cold.

Once all the students were seated, Hongjoong began his lesson. He paced up and down in front of the students, asking questions about various scales. The class was engaged in the lesson but Y/N, not so much. Her cold medication had put her in her a state of delirium. She could barely keep her eyes open.

"I put you into groups of three last time and assigned you solos to analyse. Get to it." Hongjoong spoke authoritatively as he sat in his chair, feet propped up on his desk.

Y/N rummaged in her tote bag, the little device hiding from her, then pulled forth a small device the size of her hand. She plugged the amPlug into her guitar. The headphones that hung around her neck were pulled over her head and covered her ears. She plugged the wired headphones into the amPlug.

Kathy brought her hand up over her head, waving, which got Hongjoong's attention. Diverting his attention from his phone screen to an eager Kathy, he sighed.

"Kathy?" his tone low and uninterested.

She twirled her hair in her fingers, giggling with her friends upfront the class. "So... mister Kim, do you like... have a girlfriend?"

Kathy had never shied away from making passes at Hongjoong. She had always been shamelessly vocal about her desire to get with him. Half the student body knew and even the faculty caught wind. It played off more as a joke to everyone, but not Kathy. Not Kathy.

Hongjoong never held any animosity towards anyone. He got along with everyone, always as respectful as he could be. Thing is, he also had one hell of a reputation for flirtatious behaviour. Albeit with no intention to follow through with something more, he'd either wink at students or mindfully caress the female staff just to get a reaction out of them. He loved the influence he had over everyone. It was all a game to him.

Half the class was taken aback by the question, feeling as if it was a bit intrusive. The other half were more engrossed by the assessment that was due. Y/N held her head up, curious to what his answer might be. Hongjoong smirked, standing up from his chair. He strolled to Kathy and stood in front of her, arm slinked over the music stand.

"Why Kathy, do you want a date?" Hongjoong smiled with a wave of confidence washing over him.

Kathy playfully rolled her eyes and giggled some more. "I mean-"

Hongjoong briefly glanced at Y/N. "I flirt a lot but I don't do students. And I'm not on the market." he said arrogantly, shooting her a wink.

Embarrassment washed over Kathy as she sunk into her seat. Hongjoong pat her on the shoulder, then pocketed his hands into his slacks. He took a few laps around the hall, as his students spoke amongst themselves. Y/N put her headphones over her ears and began strumming. She felt a sense of relief hearing Hongjoong's response, but couldn't help think a part of what he said may have been a silent jab at her. Setting aside her thoughts, she focused on her playing.

Solana tapped Y/N on her shoulder, bringing her out her bubble of notes and chords, and pushed the headphones behind her ears.

"I need a pick, I think I lost mine."

Y/N took out a small metal container from her tote bag. "What kind do you use?"

Solana pondered as her index finger was pressed on her chin. "Standard three-five-one, point-eight gauge."

She opened up the metal container. Her finger swiping through the various collection of picks. Bringing forth a lime green pick, she inspected it then held it out to Solana. She took it between her fingers, pouting, she looked up at Y/N.

"Don't you have it in celluloid?"

"You know I only use nylon."

Solana shrugged. "Thanks anyway." her fingers flipped through the music sheet on the stand in front of her. "Can't believe Professor Kim gave us Free Bird. I don't get the physics behind sliding. I like the glissando though."

Y/N passed a breathy chuckle, amused by Solana's complaint. "I did it with a bottle neck once, I'll show when we get home."

Solana puts on her headphones, strumming away on her guitar. Y/N pages through the music sheet, making notes on the sheet with her pencil and jotting down in her notebook. Engrossed with her work, she didn't realise Hongjoong was nearing her as he took laps around the hall. A tingling sensation played around in her nasal cavities, eliciting a sneeze that was directed into her sleeve. She took out a handkerchief a swiped it across her nose.

Hongjoong shook his head in discontent, tsking as he halted right beside her. "Told you not to fool around in the rain." he whispered.

She glanced up at Hongjoong with a death stare, a shiver meandering in his nerves.

He sunk to her eye level, eyes studying the notes on the sheet. "I'll drop off some food and medicine later tonight." he whispered as his fingers paged through the sheet. His finger landed on a highlighted line. "That's dee-over-eff sharp."

"Thanks." she muttered, fingers adjusting the distortion level on her amPlug.

It was the night of the Waldorf Music Academy mixer. From nerves of steel to absolute anxietude, Y/N was trying to regain her composure. She had spent months preparing for this night. Hair and makeup to shoes and dress. Counting in her head to calm herself, fingers tapping incessantly on her thigh.

"I'll see you later, okay?" Solana rubbed Y/N on the back and gave her a small smile.

Y/N nodded as she watched Solana walk down the steps into the hall, her red gown in hand to keep from tripping. She stood at the entrance, inspecting the venue. She wore a blush pink tulle dress that halted above her knees, a bejeweled belt hugging her waist. Her beige stilettos with gemstone straps decorated her feet. A white and yellow diamond négligée hung befittingly around her neck, sure to draw attention to her chest. The necklace was paired with yellow diamond studs and bracelet. Her getup was completed with a beige clutch. She was magnificent. breathtaking really.

Hongjoong sat in his car that was parked across the street, watching her stand frozen at the door. He wore a midnight blue regular fit suit with a notch lapel, the top three buttons of his dress shirt undone. A white pocket square adorned his chest, and dark brown oxfords to complete the look. His split dye hair was slicked back, a black strand dancing on his forehead and his undercut fresh as it could be.

He exited his car and made his way across the street, into the building. His heart was thumping faster the closer he approached. Of all the beauty he had come across in his lifetime, nothing and no one ever measured up to Y/N. He stood beside her, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"You are beyond... mesmerizing." he smiled. "You're very beautiful, Y/N."

She returned the gesture. "Thank you, Hong." she playfully nudged at his shoulder. "You clean up really well. I see why Kathy's always making passes."

They both chuckled lightheartedly, easing the atmosphere. Most of the anxiety that held her mind hostage had slowly begun to fall away with every second Hongjoong stood beside her.

"Too bad for her, she's not you."

He held her gaze. She looked away, heat rushing to her cheeks. Time felt as if it had slowed down.

"Just breathe, okay? You'll blow them away, that I'm certain of." he gave her a wink before descending down the staircase. "Come find me if you need a pep talk."

[ . . . ]

It had been about two hours since the mixer started. Chatting up a myriad of industry officials. She wrapped up her conversation with Joe Satriani after discussing his thought process while composing, and his experience mentoring Kirk Hammett and Steve Vai. He gave her some much needed pointers, also offering his number so he could tutor her in the future. She humbly accepted the offer, as she walked away.

She spotted Hongjoong sitting at the bar, alone. He was downing a glass of whiskey, uninterested in the event. Chaperoning was his least favourite part of the job. He called on the bartender, shaking the glass a few inches above the counter, signalling for a refill. Y/N sat on the stool beside him and ordered a long island iced tea. The bartender positioned the beverage in front of her and disappeared to tend to other guests.

"Enjoying the evening?" Hongjoong downed his whiskey in one go. "Saw you chatting up Satriani."

Y/N twirled the straw in her drink. "He said he'd tutor me after I graduate."

He looked down at his glass and smiled halfheartedly. "Guess you're outgrowing me. I've taught you all that I could."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a minute or so.

"All this talk of graduation..." she released a shaky breath. "I realised how much I love having you around, even though it doesn't seem so. I'm ready to take the next step, if you feel like you've waited long enough."

He glanced up and saw her looking down at her drink. He knew it took a great deal of courage for her to bear her heart out. The step he'd been waiting for. She finally opened up her heart to him. All he could think of were the ways he wanted to show her new experiences and above it all, how love could be liberating and safe. He was determined to create an environment where their mutual admiration for each other could be cultivated.

Hongjoong looked back down at his drink. "You have no idea how badly I've been wanting to hear that. Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

He reached into his pant pocket. Presenting to her, he discreetly put a pink rubber device in her hand. She looked at her hand, her eyebrows creasing with confusion. In no less than a second, it dawned on her as her eyes were bewildered and her mouth grew into an 'O'. She swiftly dumped the device into her clutch, eye laser-focused on Hongjoong.

He looked her straight on, expressionless. "What are you still doing here?" his voice hushed.

[ . . . ]

She jerked up in her seat, the people around her the table casting confused glances. A simple "Shiver down the spine" was enough for them to brush her off, giving her reassuring nods. Her legs were shaking and she could barely hold the fork in her hand. When the tables were cleared, she took it as an opportunity to bury her face in her arms. Her heart was beating irregularly. Her breathing was all over the place.

Solana came back to their table and sat beside Y/N. She heard her sniffling and grew concerned. Her hand rubbed her back as she leaned in.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Solana asked innocently.

"It's nothing. Don't worry." she said with a tremble laced in her tone.

"Are you sure? You're literally shaking."

Why wouldn't she shake? Any time she felt as though it was all over, Hongjoong would crank up the setting of the remote-controlled vibrator. She was pooling at her core and her clitoris was throbbing to the point of detonation. One wrong move, she would probably collapse. She avoided being on her feet for the time being, worried her legs may give out. All she wanted was for the evening to end.

And it was far from.

Hongjoong was seated two tables away, smirking cunningly to himself. Everytime she lurched in her seat, he stifled a laugh. Having his way with her was what he considered his "single greatest achievement". He had her in his grasp and he wasn't loosening his grip for as long as he lived.

Y/N sat up, wiping the tears off her face. She put her finger on Solana's mouth, confusing her, Solana looking down at her finger.

"I'm f-fine, just... shush. I need quiet." Y/N hissed. Her eye caught the ebon stone on her finger. She squinted as she focused on it. "Er- where'd you get the rock?"

Solana pursed her lips, eyes wandering. "I, uh... a gift."

Her clutch was buzzing on the table, catching her attention. She took out her phone, her eyes greeted by a text message notification.

Hongjoong: i'm turning it off. gather yourself and meet me in room 1205 in 30 min.

Hongjoong: and DON'T take it out unless i say so.

She slipped her phone back into her clutch. As she was about let out a sigh of relief, the device went off one last time, prompting her jerk up again. Hongjoong listened to her quietly whimper as he walked past her table, not giving her a second look.

"I'll probe you later." she tilted her head to the side. "You don't mind going home alone, do you?"

Solana shook her head. "I'm meeting somebody in the hotel in..." she looked at the time on her phone. "Right now, actually. I'll see you tomorrow."

Solana stood up and swiped her purse off the table, flattening whatever creases she could find on her gown. She took out a tube of lip gloss, glistening her lips before making her exit. "Kiss kiss."

She was greeted with a 'floor 12' silver lettering when she stepped out of the elevator. Taking small strides to the room, she stood in front of the door. 1205. The grip on her clutch tightening. Deep breath in, shaky breath out. Hand balled into a fist, her knuckles met the door. Two knocks. The device still buried inside her buzzed to life, forcing an involuntarily half-loud whimper out of her. Her knees buckled and she held herself up using the door frame.

The door opened, her eyes landing on a grinning Hongjoong. He clutched her waist, pulling her into the room. She threw her arm over his shoulder, legs trembling with every step. Her clutch thrown on the coffee table. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands squeezing her hips and face buried in her stomach. She held herself up with his shoulders, staring at the top his head. He was inhaling every bit of her Issey Miyake perfume.

"Stand back a bit for me, will you?"

Y/N took a few steps back, making space between her and Hongjoong. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, a scowl evident on her face. He looked her up and down, a lustful yet dark gaze focused on her being. Their eyes competing with one another. Tension thick in the atmosphere.

Bzzzz.

She whimpered painfully, doubling over and supporting herself with her hands on her knees. "You said you'd stop."

"Long enough for you to be able to get here." he shrugged. "There's five settings on this thing and I've only taken it to four. How long is it gonna take for you to cave under five?"

"I came, like, twice in the hall. What more do you want?" she growled. She bent down to undo the straps of her heels and set them aside.

The vibrator went up to the fifth setting immediately after Hongjoong brought it back to life. "That's one hell of an attitude for someone who's under my mercy."

"I'm sorry." she cried.

It seemed the longer the buzzing went on, the more her legs would tremble. She stood by the coffee table, holding herself up. The tears mixed with sweat beads came down her face endlessly. Counting to a hundred and back in her head, trying to keep her mind off her situation. The feeling of her heart thumping violently against her chest was making her panic. Her entire body was shaking.

"Call it. I'll stop." Hongjoong deigned.

It had only been three minutes at this point. Two orgasms had washed over her. A third one was quickly materializing. An tight sensation taking up residence in her stomach. She managed stand upright. Pacing up and down in front of Hongjoong. Fisting two handfuls of her hair, she was breathing erratically, tears never seizing. As her third orgasm crept in, she bowed with her hands on her knees. Her cries more audible this time.

Down her leg came some of her nectar, underwear beyond drenched. Catching Hongjoong's attention, head cocked to the side and eyebrow arched. A smile mixed with satisfaction and bewilderment appeared. He leaned forward to get a closer look. Her knees buckled as she brought down her entire body weight. Hands pressed to the floor, her crying grew stronger.

Trying to string together a coherent sentence, unable to find her words. She managed, "Please..."

The device died. Hongjoong slipped the remote into his pocket. He went down on his knees, cupping her face and wiping away her tears. He planted his lips on hers, burying her head in his shoulder. As he took his hand into her underwear, he accidentally grazed her overly sensitive bud. Whimpering and jerking up. His fingers journeyed up inside her, retrieving the vibrator. Smeared with her juices, he brought it to his mouth and licked off the residue.

She casted him a disgusted look, eyeing him through her wet lashes and glossy eyes. Unsure if she was aroused or found it off-putting to watch her boyfriend slurp her discharge, her core released a bit more of her juices in response. Talk about cognitive dissonance. Hongjoong chuckled, as he put the toy into his pocket. He grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her. His tongue requesting entry into her mouth. She tasted herself on him.

He draped his arms around her waist, undoing her belt. His fingers unzipped her dress. He stood up, bringing her up along with. The dress pooled around her legs as she stepped out of. He sat down on the bed, straddling her around his waist. She began undoing his dress shirt, then traveled down his pants. Her fingers fumbling the zip. He smacked her ass, making her moan into their kiss.

"Five-seven with the confidence of six-foot tall man." she spoke against his lips, her hand caressing his throbbing cock. "I admire that. I think it's hot."

He flicked his finger over her throbbing bud, a yelp filling his ears. "Gutsy, when I quite literally have you in the palm of my hand."

He grabbed her waist and pushed her off, taking off his pants. He sat back down on the bed. Her eyes stuck on his member. Smooth with a vein running along the base, head pink and leaking with precum. Girthy and lengthy. Her mind was racing through all the possibilities of how he'd make her fall apart. She licked her lower lip.

"Come on, take a seat." he coaxed her, pulling her hand. His other hand pumping to get him harder. "I'm gonna stuff you so good, baby."

He spun her around, her back turned to him. His hands planted firmly on her waist, he slowly descended her on his cock. Both of their bodies erupting from the slight contact. As Hongjoong was taking deep breaths, Y/N whimpered at the feel of his stretch. Her walls clamped so tight, barely allowing him entrance. Hongjoong was careful to not force her down hastily.

Patience wears thin for everyone, it's ruled by circumstance. As appreciated as it was, she was peeved. He was taking his sweet time, enjoying her feel. She balanced herself using his thighs and forced herself all the way down, until he bottomed her out.

"Will you relax? I can feel your heart beating on my dick." Hongjoong groaned when she fit him in, his arms wrapped around her stomach.

She gave a light chuckle, through shallow breaths. "Sorry Hong, you were taking too long."

After a few breathers, she began bouncing on his cock. His hands playing with her breasts, fondling away at her nipples. Her moans filled the silence in the room. The constant squelching replaying in both their heads. His grunting had her spiraling. She wanted to hear more. Kegeling on his cock. His grip on her breasts growing tighter. He traced wet kisses on her back, inevitably sinking his teeth into her skin. Marks plastered all over her back.

The warmth and slick that encapsulated his cock, paired with forceful clamping, it was coming. It wasn't long until he was painting her walls. He stilled her on his cock while he spasmed inside her. Grunting her name, over and over, in her ear.

He took her face by the jaw and cocked it to the mirror in front of them. "Don't worry, baby. You'll get yours."

He spread her legs open, rubbing the inside of her thigh. Trailing kisses on her back and shoulder. Her jaw still in his hand, his other ventured to her core. As he played with her bud, she squirmed in his hold. Any time she tried looking away, he'd force her to look at the mirror.

As she closed her eyes, tears running, he said, "Open your eyes, and don't make me ask again." he whispered into her ear, shivers traveling down her spine.

Her chest heaving up and down as she watched herself in the mirror, falling apart in his hold. Her cunt squeezing his cock in intervals. The decibels of her moans escalating. Materialising her nth orgasm of the night. He felt her clamping down, reporting on her nearing release. She mumbled incoherent strings of nothing, Hongjoong's name caught in the mix. Her head slumping down, he forced her gaze into the mirror.

Hand still toying with her, he spoke softly into her ear as she wept, "I want you to have this image of yourself engraved so deeply into your subconscious, not even a lobotomy could make you forget."

Her moaning grew and her clenching got tighter.

Planting a kiss on her neck, he said, "Cum on daddy's cock, baby. I know you can."

She held Hongjoong's gaze in the mirror as she unraveled at his words. Shallow breaths were all she could manage. Her body quaking as she creamed on his cock. He stood up, his cock slipping out of her cunt. Arousal dripping on the floor and going down her leg.

On all fours on the bed, facing the mirror, he slotted himself between her legs. His hand pumping to get himself hard again. His tip running over her folds, gathering their combined juices. Spanking her ass just to behold the recoil. His tip was sliding in and out of her cunt, teasing her. She was anxious for what was to come.

Easing into her wet hole, he buried his cock deep inside. This position was sure to have him grazing her cervix and hitting her erogenous zone at a pristine angle. She moaned into the sheets. He leaned forward, taking her hands and pinning them down on her lower back with one hand. The other hand smacking her ass before squeezing her hip for balance.

His thrusts started off slow and steady. Every pounding had her ass jiggling. His balls grazing her clit. As he picked up speed, the sound of skin clapping, Y/N moaning Hongjoong's name and Hongjoong grunting profanities occupied the room's atmosphere. Sure enough to disturb the neighbours but who cares? The bed wanted in on the action as it was vocal too, bed frame squeaking with every powerful pound.

"My pretty little slut." he panted, breathlessly. "You love daddy's cock, my perfect little whore?"

She moaned. "Yes baby, I do."

He spanked her ass once more. "You're more beautiful as my fucktoy, princess. I'm gonna fill you up with all my seed."

He slowed down a bit and released her hands. His hand wrapped around her neck, careful not to bother her négligée. She brought him up to his chest, his other hand on her stomach. Pumping in and out of her. She clenched around, this new angle had his cock brushing her sweet spot. He knew he had her in the right position when her tears started welling.

His lips pressed to her ear and grip getting tight, he grunted, "I may have everyone wrapped around my finger but I need you to be obsessed. I want to be the center of your universe. I want you to get sick at the idea of a man who's not me."

"You don't have to ask twice." she moaned, her hands grappling at his hips.

The last few brushes past her sensitive zone played around with her eyes, she was seeing stars before her eyes. Her nails sinking into his skin. Incoherent mumbles leaving her lips. The visual of her tits bouncing as he pounded her into oblivion, aroused her. As his hips were bucking, short thrusting into her, he delivered his final load for the night. She soon came undone on his cock, her cunt squeezing every bit of him out.

Once the high started subsiding, still inside her, he laid her on her back. Her legs laced around his waist, he massaged the inside of her thighs. They looked at each other lovingly through smiles, though hers was dopey and his smug.

"Thank you for giving our relationship a real shot. I know it wasn't easy for you." he cooed. "I promise I won't waste your time. And I definitely won't cage you."

Her hand ran over her stomach, rubbing circles. "I trust you, Hong. I'm not sure of a lot of things in my life but not you. You stayed when most men would've left. You waited for me and held my hand while I prepared to take that leap."

He leaned in for a kiss, her hands caressing his back. He hovered over her, bucking her hips up. "And I would do it all over again."

Afternoon had come and at around 12:30, they found themselves standing at opposite sides in the elevator. The clicking from Hongjoong's phone filling the silence. Y/N was picking and prodding at the pimple forming on her cheek. As the elevator continued descending down the building, it stopped at another floor. The doors opened and an awkward silence fell.

Everyone's eyes dancing between one another, exchanging shocked glances. Yunho and Solana stepped into the elevator, Solana standing beside Y/N and Yunho beside Hongjoong.

A sardonic smile spread across Y/N's face. "So that's why you were bunking classes..."

Solana bowed her head shamefully, heat racing to her cheeks. "I didn't know how to tell you." she spoke with a hoarse voice.

Y/N and Hongjoong exchanged bemused glances. Hongjoong cleared his throat, smirking as he looked at Yunho. "Eventful night, I see..."

Yunho's ears turned red, face turned towards the floor. Hongjoong and Yunho spoke amongst themselves, as did Y/N and Solana. The rest of the ride down was fairly normal, the awkwardness no longer felt. As the elevator stopped at the ground floor, Y/N and Solana walked a few feet ahead of their professors.

As they stood on the other side of the street, about to head their separate ways, Hongjoong stepped away as a call came in. He spoke on the phone for a minute or so then returned.

"Yunho, you mind taking Y/N home for me? There's something I need to get to." Hongjoong spoke with urgency in his tone. He pecked Y/N on the cheek before leaving. "I'll call you tonight."

Yunho opened the door to the driver's side, halfway inside. "No problem. Girls, in the car."

On the ride back to the complex, Solana asked Yunho to get them takeaways. He went into a drive-thru and journeyed back to their home. The car was parked at the gate. As they were about to exit, Yunho stopped them.

"You cannot, under any circumstance, tell anyone about last night. All of us could get in trouble." he spoke authoritatively, face stern to emphasise the urgency of his words.

The girls nodded in unison. Y/N took the bag of food and exited the vehicle. Solana remaining behind to share a few more moments with Yunho. Ascending the stairs, her eyes land on a brown box at their doorstep. As she approached, Solana came trailing behind. Both wearing confused looks.

"Were we expecting a delivery?" Solana said.

Y/N shook her head, handing over the takeaways to Solana as she inched closer to the box. She scooped it up off the floor and inspected it. Box nestled under her arm as she searched for the keys, she unlocked the door. They stepped into their apartment, Solana setting down the food on the counter. Y/N grabbed a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer. As she opened the box filled with packing peanuts, there was a card inside with her name on it.

"Guess it's for you." Solana shrugged. "What's it say?"

"'Thought you might love this. I have a feeling that it's right up there on your list of interests. -Hongjoong'." she read the card out loud.

Solana screamed, her arms wrapped around Y/N's shoulders as she jumped up and down. "Oh-em-gee, open it! Open it!"

She set the card aside and lifted the package inside the box. As she removed the yellow packing paper and bubble wrap, she felt the air leave her lungs. She held up the vinyl record a few inches away, inspecting the black cover with red detailing. Her eyes focused on the two women on the cover, finger running over their name at the very top. In awe and all, she could find words to speak.

"No. Fucking. Way." Solana exasperated. "I couldn't even get you that for your birthday."

Y/N was brought out of her trance. "I never told him about Strawberry Switchblade."

They looked at each other, eyebrows creased down the middle. "Then how'd he know?"

She shrugged, eyes still inspecting the vinyl.

[ . . . ]

The rest of the day went on as normal. The girls spent their afternoon on the couch, watching 'Our Blues'. Food spread out on the coffee table. As the final episode concluded, Solana cleared the living room. Y/N went into her bedroom, moonlight illuminating the space. She pushed the covers aside and laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her phone vibrated on the nightstand as it rang.

Hongjoong.

She answered.

"So you remember that call I had earlier?"

"Yeah? Who was it?"

"I got scouted by an executive, said a doe sent them my raw recordings. They want me to produce Rihanna's next album... in Amsterdam City, but I told them I'd think about it. Said I'd run it by you."

"Hong, that's great! What do you need my opinion for?" she sat up on the bed. "Plus, Rihanna's been on hiatus for almost a decade. If this album blows up, everyone's gonna come looking for your expertise."

"We just started dating, I don't think distance would be a great idea." he sighed. "Y/N, you're the only person who knows about those recordings."

There was silence for a few moments. "I just thought you're too good for WMA, so I sent your work to as many labels as I could." she frowned a bit as she laid back down. "As for distance, I called Satriani and his people said he'll take me on after graduation... in Ivory Canyon, it's fifteen minutes away from Amsterdam. If you leave now to get settled, I'll join you in a few months."

"And you'd be okay with it?"

"We've waited this long, what's four more months?"

"How'd you like the gift?"

"Beyond love it. I've been looking at it all day, can't believe it's in my hands." she smiled as the fluttering in her stomach got stronger. "But how'd you know?"

There was rustling on his end as he laid himself down in his bed. "I noticed that you always wear polka-dot ribbons in your hair that match your outfits, sometimes with mesh flowers. Never got that."

"They're pretty." she whined.

"They are. But when I saw you at the Molchat Doma show and you mentioned Selofan... it clicked." he chuckled. "I looked up eighties goth bands that wore polka-dots and lo and behold-"

"Strawberry Switchblade. No one I've met has ever got that reference, not even Solana." she said softly. "Thank you, Joong."

"You're welcome, princess. And thank you for sending out my work, I'm usually big on risks but this..." he smirked to himself.

"You deserve somebody who'll give you a push whenever you're not sure of yourself. You're good at what you do and the world needs to hear it."

He released a deep breath. "I've got tickets to a Sextile show next Saturday."

"It's a date."

[esimsterlookbook]

Jennifer Sims 4 CC Lookbook

Meet Jennifer, a college girl dressing up for sorority formals and going out to frat parties!

Base Sim Genetics found here

Everyday:

Hair: XX Black Sims Janae Hair

Outfit: Busara-Tr Polo Shirt P35 / Lazy Eyelids crop slim fit jeans

Accessories: Praline Sims Motion Glasses / Giulietta Sims Danna Thin Hoop Earrings / That Sims 4 Core Cherry Belly Bar v1

Makeup: That one Green Leaf Abigail Makeup / lady simmer must be love blushes / Praline sims Lip N236 Lucid Dream

Formal:

Hair: XX Black Sims Cici Curly Ponytail

Outfit: Trillyke Cupid Dress / Mermalade Strappy Wide Heels

Accessories: Glitterberry Sims Citrine Diamond Necklace / Symphony Sims Olivia Bracelet / Simpliciaty's Elia Rings / Sugar Owl Perla Rings / Giulietta Sims Denise Watch / Gorilla x3 Multi Ring Earrings

Makeup: Breezy Trait Petals Makeup / Praline sims Eyeshadow N93 Butterflys Dance

Athletic:

Hair: Kie Gross Sims Serena Curled with braids full lace

Outfit: Seoul-Seoul #39 T-Shirt / Sunberry Aespa Spicy Giselle Pants / Mysterious Dane Adidas Gazelle Shoes

Accessories: Praline Sims Motion Glasses / Jolliebean Peak Performance Basic Socks / That Sims 4 Teardrop Piercing v1

Sleep:

Outfit: Busara-tr Xmas PJ Top P77 / Busara-tr Xmas PJ Bottoms P77

Accessories: Praline Sims Motion Glasses / That Sims 4 Teardrop Piercing v1

Party:

Hair: Brandy Sims Kim Butterfly Locs 1

Outfit: Belaloallure Selma tank top / Belaloallure Nina Denim Skirt / Jius Ankle Boots 4

Accessories: Giulietta Sims Athena Bracelet Set / That Sims 4 Core Bunny Belly Bar v1

Makeup: Lady Simmer Au Naturel Eyeshadow / Lady Simmer floral puff lip glosses / Giulietta Sims Long Stiletto French Tips Ombre Nails

Swim:

Hair: Nightcrawler Reflect Hair

Outfit: busara-tr Ocean Collection Bikini Top P200 + Bottom P200

Accessories: Aretha Bee Jayleen Sunglasses / Giulietta Sims Danna Thin Hoop Earrings / Simpliciaty Elise Rings / Suzue Piercing N31 Belly Piercing / Glitterberry Sims A Tale of Love Ring 11 / Sugar Owl Daughtry Rings / Gorilla x3 Basic Coin Necklace

Hot Weather:

Hair: Shea Buttyr Penisha Ponytails V1

Outfit: Seoul Soul 2024 #40 Top - Public Release September 14 2024 / Serenity Naomi Shorts / BED and Musae Sungsudong Chelsea Boots

Accessories: Praline Sims Motion Glasses / S-Club WM ts4 bracelet 202009 / Praline Sims Thunder V1 Earrings / Blue Craving Goth is Rock Asymmetrical Septum Piercing / That Sims 4 Teardrop Piercing v1 / Gorilla x3 Butterfly Necklace II

Makeup: Aretha Bee Flwr Eyeshadow / Poyopoyo Lips N19 / Jolliebean Nail it 2.0

Cold Weather:

Hair: KiaraZurk Miriam Curls

Outfit: Trillyke Bad Chemical Jacket / Serenity Maddy & Cassie Matching Set Pants / Jius Snow boots 03

Accessories: Sims House Hat January 22 / Praline Sims Motion Glasses / Aretha Bee Luv Septum

Makeup: Breezy Trait Petals Makeup / Praline Sims Blush 78 Mocha / Northern Siberia Winds Blush N8 / Jolliebean Nail it 2.0

As always please let me know if any links aren't working and I'll do my best to fix them. In addition thank you to the amazing CC creators for making such wonderful items!

Note: I'm trying out different ways of formatting look books so please let me know which one anyone prefers a certain way and I'll try to stick to that more!

[personallyfive]

it's completely unfair to me that i don't get to play female joker mod bc i have a old mac and only own the game ons switch so i have to pretend

anyway my brain morphed and said this looks like a girl

i like short hair girls anyway, look at that face and tell me that's a man she looks like haruhi from host club with goth black upper lips like shego from kim possible and glasses so it's fine guess

especially without the glasses and the eyes closed

THATS A WOMEN A BLACK CAT WOMEN

[emojellyace08]

Lookism Random Headcannons (Because why not?)

Read the recent chapter recently and I am excited about the King of Soul's entrance (if ever)

Daniel watches anime since he thinks it's more entertaining than dramas. At some point he also wanted to become a manga artist but quickly gave up on it. His favorite is probably the classics (Naruto, One Piece, One Punch Man, DBZ, and he also likes the recent ones.)

Zack and Johan used to watch WWE matches together while Mira scolds them that they scream too loud when they're watching Royal Rumble lmao.

Undertaker was Johan's favorite WWE wrestler but thinking about it makes Johan embarrassed since he doesn't want to be seen as an edge lord or "emo or a goth" lol. Zack Lee's favorites are probably Edge, Brock Lesnar, and Randy Orton (idk I watch a little bit of WWE in my free time don't blame me).

Since Jay lived mostly alone in his apartment for who knows how long, he was thought by his butler to cook his own food since he doesn't really want to depend on them fully and make them exhausted. (Plus he's mostly bored, so why not cook and bake?) He almost burned his apartment once trying to fry an egg at first.

Hudson might not admit it but he also binges anime like Daniel. He believes that Makima sucks and the ones who defends her are simps (I mean she's a well written antagonist but her personality is a no).

Goo Kim = Cat Girl/ Cat Boy enthusiast (likes wearing low-budgeted cosplays A LOT for his own entertainment).

Goo Kim had stolen Gun's credit cards for his own shopping spree. Not once, not twice, but MANY TIMES.

Samuel might not admit it but he actually likes Jake and Big Deal. He just keeps denying it because of his ego issues.

Jerry had once owned a winter dwarf pet hamster. He properly took care for it for like 2 years and named her Bisky. But since hamsters have short lifespans, it died later on and he cried and didn't sleep well the following days since he missed her deeply. The shrine of it is still staying still on his backyard and he mostly replaces the flowers everyday or i he's not busy to pay tribute to her.

Daniel wanted to learn how to play the guitar or a ukulele but since his mom was struggling with their budget he cannot ask her to buy him one.

Jay can play drums (and teaches Daniel when having sleep overs!)

Mary can play bass and a little bit of guitar. And she secretly listens to rock, metal, and the alternative style of music since she doesn't want to be teased as emo by Vin the asshole lmao.

Avril Lavigne is the reason why Mary dyed her hair blonde you can't change my mind (not forcing you but listen to her music IT'S SO GOOD). She would like to have a friend (if not a girl friend not a girlfriend) who shares the same music taste with her to start a band.

Zack and Vin Jin used to bully kids on Roblox to boost their ego (Zack stopped because of his character development but probably Vin still does it lol).

Younger Kouji had once ate lots of candies and sweets to be "smart like L" from Death Note but almost got diabetes.

Gun and DG wears lip balms to keep their lips plump and smooth. DG had once teased Gun about being a model while Gun just smirks about it.

Mira SECRETLY LIKES Ayesha Erotica's music because of the edits on TikTok but since it's mostly explicit she's refraining to add her compositions on her Spotify playlists.

Since Vasco is mostly hardworking, there are times that he passes the exams (with the help of Jace and other Burn Knuckle members). But he just cannot push himself more to pass the Mathematics exams.

Eli had once tried to kiss Warren after their fight because of his innocence and curiosity before all the Hostel Drama. (I personally don't ship them but I just feel like it's something past Eli would do). They both cringe when they both remember it.

Doo Lee was once a Twitter influencer but because of his past dramas he was cancelled in social media.

Jibeom accidentally smashed Jihan's face when they were little when they are trying to imitate WWE stunts. Jichang was surprised to see his little brother's teeth getting cracked and falling off and he just didn't cried (it was Jibeom who shed tears because of guilt lol).

Crystal is a big fan of "vintage-core" or everything around the older eras because she believes that it doesn't only represents the beauty and evolution of human pop-culture but it also represents history. She always won on auctions to buy antique stuff and mostly donate it on museums to preserve it's structure while she kept some on her room. She almost got canceled by bidding on an authentic Marilyn Monroe's lipstick but she later on posted on Twitter that she donated it on a museum (which is not a fake news).

Gun doesn't eat too much fast-food products because he believes it's unhealthy and has chemicals to make the customers' crave for more (Goo teases him about this by dramatically eating an order of a large McDonald's French Fries in front of his annoyed face).

Ryuhei never kissed a woman in his life because of his nervousness. He secretly was weirded out by it so he lies that he had slept with many women to not be bullied by other people.

Vasco doesn't know how to properly wear a watch and a belt (ngl same I'm that stupid). He also doesn't know how to tie his shoe lace.

Jace prefers dark-chocolate rather than milk or white chocolate. Because he believes that since it has more cocoa content it can boost more of his energy and sharpen his mind and focus especially when taking his exams and quizzes.

Sally's favorite color was purple as she planned to dye her hair with her color of choice with a mix of indigo. But since she's afraid that it won't suit her, she changed her plans and went on to dye her hair with strawberry pink. She didn't expected it to look magnificent on her since Warren complimented her, so after that her favorite color was switched to baby or strawberry pink.

Mitsuki thinks that K-Pop music is cringe but she secretly has BTS, Twice, and Blackpink on her Spotify playlists. Ryuhei found out about this and she was pissed off up until this day lol.

Doo Lee once had a girlfriend who uses him for the money. She later on cheated with a new "handsome and charming" guy and when Doo found out he was FURIOUS. He later on was captured on camera beating the dude and when people found out he was canceled again on social media (pretty privileges never ends). He later on begged Daniel and Duke to make an apology video for him which looks so weird and scripted since Doo was pushing them. But luckily the drama heated down.

Magami Kenta's favorite vape flavors are watermelon, strawberry, and coffee.

Joy is very talented and skilled with nail art and she sells her products in a decent price even if it's REALLY DETAILED and well-crafted.

Sinu Han is a COMIC BOY FAN. Whether it's DC Comics, Marvel Comics, or even manga he's going to buy it. He later on posted on Twitter about how Gojo shouldn't have died since he relates to him so much (he was later on bullied by Samuel that he sounds like a weeb lmao).

[kokoro--nerd]

Parallel Universe; WenClair Mini-Fic

A mini-fic of Wenclair meeting their Reverse Wenclair counterparts. I won't post this on my AO3 since it is a mini-fic and I wasn't feeling it tbh. I am going to try and write a full wenclair fic before my break ends. So until then, enjoy this. (1100 words ish)

Parallel Universes

Not just a staple of science fiction, other universes are a direct implication of cosmological observations

“Is there a copy of you reading this article? A person who is not you but who lives on a planet called Earth, with misty mountains, fertile fields, and sprawling cities, in a solar system with eight other planets? The life of this person has been identical to yours in every respect” (Tegmark 41). 

//

The other werewolf was a wolf of a woman. She bore soulless, intense blue eyes. Her eyebrows were perfectly maintained and arched, furrowed in a deep glare. A scar slit the raised curve of her brow. Intentional or not, it was best not to ask. Luscious curls cascaded down her body, creating a mass of onyx void flickering in the light. Her carved jawline was sharp enough to cut, with ruby red lipstick to top it off. Truly, this werewolf was a dominating alpha; the cream of the crop, and the leader of the pack. 

Next to her was a blonde woman, smaller in size. She wore round glasses, slightly crooked. Her cheeks were flushed with a pinkness that could be blush or natural. Pouty lips. Bright, black eyes. Round face. Her blonde hair was tied in one braid that swayed behind her back. The smaller woman wore frilly white, tipped with an ombre pink near the ends of her dress. Quite an adorable little thing and petite next to the wolf woman. She speaks up with a soft, quiet voice and asks, “What are your names?”

“Enid,” the original werewolf of the room answered, beaming happily. “This is Wednesday, my girlfriend.”

“I’m Friday!” the petite woman replied, smiling with infection. “And this is my girlfriend, Nyx.”

The black werewolf just nudged her head, staring daggers on Wednesday as if she was contagious. The original Addams glared back. She wasn’t afraid of a challenge but Enid nudged her, forcing her to concede. “Which of you two is responsible for creating a portal between our universes?” Wednesday bluntly asked.

Friday raises her hand shyly. “That would be me.”

“How will you fix this and return to your world?” Wednesday snapped. “The collision of our universes may cause a cosmological catastrophe that will affect my constellation clairvoyance.”

“I have no idea what she said,” Enid admitted.

Wednesday ignored the wolf hiding behind her. “Did you think about the effects of our universes colliding? It may blend time and space, altering history and concepts beyond our recognition.” The goth woman took an intimidating step forward. “I would prefer to not live in a blended universe where Edgar Allen Poe became the next Kim Kardashian.”

“Hey, back up mutt!” Nyx finally growled, stepping forward and putting herself in front of Friday. Her canines shone bright as she snarled like a feral beast. It made her look hauntingly savage and beautiful; a prime alpha establishing dominance. “It was an accident. Friday didn’t mean to end up in your pathetic world.” Her dark blues flickered over to Enid, letting out a pheromone that screamed ‘I am Alpha.’ Enid took one sniff and whimpered behind Wednesday, somehow making her tall frame smaller. “If I’m some rainbow barf in this world, Friday and I will gladly leave as soon as we can.”

Hearing Enid attempt to let out a snarl in defiance but to no avail, Wednesday crossed her arms and said, “This ‘rainbow barf’ is my girlfriend and I am the only one who gets to describe her as such.”

Enid’s baby blues lit up before she looked at Wednesday in confusion. “T-Thanks?”

Friday got in front of Nyx, giving the werewolf a pleading look. She placed her fair hands on Nyx’s neck, gentle and comforting. Her thumbs rubbed in small circles. The black werewolf’s intense glare softened, but only slightly. She held her protective stance against the other two. Friday softly whispered, “Nyxie, it’s okay. I would also be concerned if this was the other way around.”

“Hm,” Nyx huffed, backing down.

Friday then turned to Wednesday with a smile on her face. It was unnerving to the goth woman to see her face smile. A mirror image of her in some parallel universe where she loved rainbows and butterflies, this was Wednesday’s worst nightmare. 

Friday explained warmly, “Do not worry, other me! A small tear in reality will not integrate the two masses. I have ensured a plan to return to our own world before I conducted the experiment.” She takes out the most stereotypical remote that most science fiction movies have. It had a red button and everything. “This device needs some time to charge before it can be used. So, in the meantime, do mind us as we wait. I do apologize for the inconvenience and Nyx. She can be too protective over me.”

As if to prove her point, Nyx wrapped an arm around Friday’s waist, pulling her in close. Their bodies, while contrasting in color, fit perfectly. The black werewolf snarked, “I could teach your runt a thing or two about being a real wolf alpha.”

Enid finally came out of her hiding spot to gawk out, “I am not a runt! I was bigger than my older brother when I was born!”

Friday blushed, twirling her blonde locks as she said, “Nyx, I think you should go back to your original hair color. Look at her. I think you would look quite beautiful in blonde.”

Nyx looks disgusted at Enid, especially the red and blue ends. “No.”

Friday pouted, making Wednesday nauseated. She almost threw up when Nyx seemed to enjoy Friday’s childlike pleading and cuteness. 

Enid’s head shook back and forth as she looked at Nyx, Wednesday, Nyx, and back to Wednesday. Then on Friday. It would be a lie if Enid said she didn’t find Friday adorable. She had always imagined Wednesday as the opposite, and here it was. “Wednesday, I think--”

“No,” Wednesday snapped, earning a whimper from the blonde werewolf. “I am not dyeing my hair blonde.”

“It could make you bearable to look at,” Nyx snided, receiving a punishing snack on her arm from her girlfriend. “Ow.”

“Be nice,” Friday pleaded. Nyx lets out a low growl without malice and more out of annoyance. She looked like a hurt puppy begging for affection. “I think we are getting off on the wrong foot. Why don’t we start over? We should play a game while we wait for the device to recharge. We can take this moment to get to know each other.”

“21 Questions?” Enid suggested.

Friday’s face brightened as she replied, “Yes! Perfect.”

Nyx and Wednesday just shared a look of grimace.

//

I hope you enjoyed. But I think I'm going to keep this one-shot hella short. I'm going to try other ideas and see if it gets my writing juices flowing.

[genderflu1dwh0r]

Tori had been dating this guy, Chris. He was an average guy, he often bought Tori flowers. He thought he knew her so well, he never thought he was wrong about her, he never thought he was wrong about anything.

The gang was sitting at their usual table for lunch, Chris was sitting next to Tori, while Jade sat opposite of her. Chris was being all lovey dovey, while Tori wanted to have an actual conversation with her friends. They were talking about girls, what guys should and shouldn't do or say. The boys were taking one side while the girls were telling them what girls actually wanted. "No no, women love flowers, they all do." Chris chipped in, Jade glared at him, tilting her head. "Oh really? Cause last time I checked, Tori doesn't like flowers, they die in the span of days and she has allergies. She would prefer something that doesn't die and then gets thrown away. She wants teddy bears and things that she can bond over, dipshit." She growled, she hated all the boys that tried to get with Tori.

Tori raised her brows, smiling. Chris scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Then why does Tori smile and take them? She loves them." He said smirking. The table got quiet, waiting for Jade to respond, Beck preparing to lunge and grab Jade when things went south. The goth laughed at Chris, fixing her skirt before crossing her arms. "You are that fucking stupid, Jesus Christ." She chuckled before licking her lips then sighing. "She takes them so she won't hurt your feelings, pretty boy." She flicked her eyebrows up. "Boys will get their little hearts broken way too easily. They punch holes in their basement walls, they lash out over the littlest things." She said glaring at him, Chris only huffed and put an arm around Tori. "I know Tori, she-" Jade immediately stood up, slamming her hands on the table. Her short temper taking over. "You haven't even known her for two months! You do not know her, you don't know her favorite song! You don't know her blood type! You don't know her favorite holiday! You don't know her middle name!" Jade yelled, watching Chris flinch a bit.

She kept going, her eyes burning holes in the buy before her. "Katy Perry's, I Kissed a Girl! Type O! Christmas! Victoria Dawn Vega!" She spat as she counted on her fingers, she then grabbed her coffee and uncapped it before throwing it on him. "What's her favorite drink!? Hot chocolate! What was her first word!? Dada! Who's her favorite cartoon character!? Kim Possible!" She was upset, people think they know someone, but then they can't answer simple questions. Everyone by them watched in amusement, Beck got up and grabbed Jade by the shoulder. "Alright, cowboy. Let's settle down." He said showing a little smile, he tried to not get hit. Jade kept glaring at Tori's boyfriend. Chris got up, scoffing at the now warm coffee all over him, he looked up at her. "What the fuck is your problem, bitch?" He growled, he quickly backed up when Jade lunged. Beck grabbed her and held her back, but Jade got out of his hold.

Tori had gotten up after her, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her against her front. "Jade, Jade! Hey, it's ok!" She tried to reassure her, wanting Jade to relax. Jade struggled against her grip, feeling tears sting her eyes, she tried to grab Chris, but he was just out of her grasp. "Fuck you! Fuck you!" Jade shouted, she then felt a hand start to play with her hair, making sure to not undo the waves in it. She got distracted and relaxed in the touch. Tori smiled softly, she kept going. "There we go, good girl." she said softly, turning Jade towards her. She saw the tears, she frowned slightly, she wiped them away with her thumb. Jade sighed softly, relaxing into her touch. Everyone just blinked at them, surprised at how Tori could calm the girl. Chris quickly furrowed his brows. "Is she gay?" He pointed at Jade, scoffing. Of course, he was homophobic, his features turned into disgust. He took the empty coffee cup off of the ground and threw it at the back of Jade's head before turning to leave. Gasps were heard.

Jade just stood there, nothing in her eyes except tears. She was frozen, she didn't feel when Tori let go of her and walk away. She was stuck staring at the ground, tears fell from her eyes, her makeup running, her shoulders slumped. She felt hands on her, she heard Cat, but couldn't figure out what she was saying. Everything felt blurry and fuzzy. Everything felt wrong. There was yelling, she could barely make out something hitting the ground, wet noises. She slowly looked over, Cat tried to cover her eyes, but she pushed her hands away. She watched Tori, she was on top of Chris, straddling his back, she slammed his face into the concrete. She watched as Beck, Andre, and a few other guys trying to get Tori off of him. She watched as blood surrounded her. She watched teachers running over. She watched as chaos flooded the space.

Tori was finally ripped off of Chris, getting held back by multiple guys, some were teachers. She looked over at Jade, all she wanted to do was run over and hug her, tell her that everything was going to be ok, that she was safe now. Jade just stood there, her eyes locked on Tori's. She slowly made it over, pushing people out of the way. Beck told the people holding Tori back to let go, when they didn't, he yelled, demanding. They let go, watching at Tori ran to Jade. The two girls grabbed each other by the head, lips connecting, Tori still had blood on her. Once they pulled away, they pressed their foreheads together, smiling softly at each other. "I don't think I ever told you my middle name." Tori chuckled, playing with the girls hair. Jade smiled. "I went through your medical records, remember? I know things about you that you don't even know about you." She said softly, Tori scoffed playfully, pushing Jade's face away.

She went wide eyed as principal Helen came running over, yelling her name. She looked over, her hands still on Jade. "My office, now!" She yelled, getting over to her and grabbing her arm. Tori sighed, looking at Jade, giving her her doe eyed stare. "Later." She said softly, she didn't want to leave Jade's side, she just wanted to keep talking and holding her. Jade quickly grasped Tori's wrist. "I'm not letting go." She said slightly smiling as she started to walk. Tori smiled more as they walked into the school with Helen. Helen dragged Tori down the hallway, making people make a pathway for them. Once they got outside of the principal's office, Helen looked at Jade. "You need to stay out until Tori's punishment is delt with." She spoke, still holding Tori's wrist. Jade shook her head, ready to get into an argument. "No, I need to be with her. I can't be alone." She spoke as she watched Helen, she really didn't want to be alone. Helen sighed as she knew there would be an argument.

Minutes went by, the two argued while Tori watched. Each of her arms were being held by the two in front of her. Eventually Helen gave in and dragged them both inside her office, demanding them both to sit. Tori sat, but Jade stood by her, she liked being a brat. Helen sat, looking up at Jade. "Sit! Now!" She demanded, slamming a hand on her desk. Jade raised her brows in amusement and sat beside Tori in the seat, still holding onto her. Soon enough, sirens were getting closer, ambulance and cop cars. Tori remembered her dad was a cop, she pursed her lips and inhaled. She tried to prepare herself. Jade moved her hand to hold Tori's, rubbing her thumb against the other girls skin. She was trying to be as relaxing to her as possible. It kind of worked, but Tori was definitely still overwhelmed.

The clock ticked, soon the door swung open, the office lady letting Mr. Vega inside. Tori didn't even turn her head, she kept her eyes situated at her lap. Jade and Helen looked, both waved, but Jade with a wide smile. David slightly waved, before walking to Tori's side and looking down at her. Tori was surprised to have the top of her head kissed and her back rubbed. She looked up at her dad in confusion. David just smiled softly at her. "Hey, kid." He said grabbing a chair from the corner and sitting in it next to her. Tori relaxed and looked at Jade, who was smiling at her. She rolled her eyes lovingly as she looked up at Helen, who's expression was softer. What was going on, why were people... not mad? She didn't understand, she thought she would be scolded and suspended or expelled. Helen started to talk, making sure Tori knew that she was safe and she understood.

Tori kinda spaced off, she was just glad that she wasn't going to jail. Only getting sent home early. When they were sent out, David pulled Tori into a tight hug, Jade let go. Tori hugged back, letting herself cry. They stayed like that until Jade started to pout and whine, the two looked over at her. "Yes?" Tori asked, amused, wiping her tears from her eyes. Jade sighed dramatically and crossed her arms. "I get that you two are having a moment, but I would like Tori back." She said not looking at them. Tori laughed and quickly hugged Jade, kissing her temple. "Awe, does someone need my attention?" She teased, soon feeling Jade kiss her. Mr. Vega cleared his throat, raising his brows. The two girls looked at him, Tori giving a sheepish smile. "Sorry dad." She giggled, moving to hold Jade's hand. All three headed out, Jade quickly had an idea. "Male Vega-" She quickly shook her head, fixing what she said. "I mean-" she chuckled, "Mr. Vega." she said, making the other two stop.

Jade had a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Can we leave in your cop car? I want to be dramatic." She said with a smile, holding Tori's hand. David laughed, nodding. "Alright but act sad." He said walking them out of the doors, everyone had their eyes fixed on them. They watched as David brought the two to his car, Tori got in the passenger side, because she got carsick easier if she sat in the back. Jade took the backseat, smirking at the crowd. She went wide eyed at seeing Cat shoving Mr. Vega out of the way and slamming her hands against the glass. "Tori!! Jade!! Are you okay!?" She yelled, tears filled her eyes. Jade nodded, watching David roll his eyes before opening the door for her to get in. Cat immediately jumped in, her arms wrapped around Jade. "Are you going to prison!?" She asked, very loudly. Jade flinched, nodding. "Yup, we are going for life." She joked, she quickly had to backtrack when Cat started to sob uncontrollably.

Beck, Andre, and Robbie showed up, they had questions. Tori leaned over to see them, she started to explain that they weren't going to jail or prison, only that Jade wanted to be dramatic. The boys nodded before going wide eyed when they heard Trina. She was confused and had thrown a rock at Robbie's head (I have been laughing at this for minutes, help) She was very worried for her sister, she had seen the stuff after Tori and Jade went to the office. She heard about what happened then saw her dad taking Tori and Jade to his cop car. Her very logical response was to throw a rock at Robbie's head, why? She never answered why, only going over to the passenger side to Tori and making sure she was ok. Beck and Andre sighed as they helped Robbie up, dusting him off and checking his head.

David whistled loudly, making the group look at him. "Let me take these two home. Everyone else, please move." He said getting into his seat. Everyone said their goodbyes, Tori telling them that they could come visit afterschool if they wanted. Once they were on the road, Jade broke out into laughter. "Today was so weird." She said, not knowing entirely if this was real or not. Tori looked at her, smiling. "It really was, but now we can relax at my house." She said smiling, she was very much in love with this girl. Jade smiled at her, tilting her head. "Can't wait." She said leaning back in her seat, fixing her skirt. When they settled down on Tori's couch, Tori asked, "So... what are we?" She asked, Jade didn't look at her, only looking at the coffee table. Tori hummed, wrapping her arms around Jade and bringing them down, she laid on top of her. "We don't have to put a label on it, if you don't want to." Tori said softly.

Jade looked at her, smiling. "Girlfriends." She said softly, putting a strand of Tori's hair behind her ear. Tori smiled wide at her, nodding. "I like the sound of that." She said moving up and kissing her girlfriend. Jade kissed back, wrapping her arms around her. She felt so safe in Tori's grasp, she gave great hugs, but she wouldn't admit that.

[br4inr0tx]

やあ!元気ですか? I hope your well! not sure if you remember me but Im Sure did a matchup for you on this blog? @toyafreethoughts but anyways I wanted to send in a request if that's cool with ya, and I would like a romantic matchup for hazbin hotel please! anywho~ let me introduce myself!

my name is joey, I use he/him pronouns, I'm transgender aromatic bisexual and unlabeled, I have adhdism and BPD and I'm a very cool person😎/hj

personality: im a ENTP and I'm very extroverted but at first when I meet someone I may come off/be awkward with them but it'll wear off eventually if we stick together right away, but I love, and I mean I LOVE to ramble about my interests, gossip, etc, I have positive and negative traits ofc but lets start with the positive ones hmm? So I'm highly attuned to the smallest details, and I'm often the first to notice patterns in a system or a group of people. I tend to enjoy strategizing, problem-solving, and brainstorming new ways to complete everyday tasks. Now for the negative ones now When I'm bored or feeling trapped, I become anxious, scattered, and impatient. I may make impulsive decisions or take needless unnecessary risks, I also cry when I feel alone or completely overwhelmed and one more thing that I'm not proud of at all is that I vape a lot when my anxiety goes through the roof. Now anyways with that, I have a huge passion for dancing, like I love it, I enjoy doing parapara dancing is a traditional thing where I dance to tech/euro music, but I also do regular dancing I love vocaloid a lot and I learnt how to dance to + boy recently and its pretty easy for me lol but I would love to dance with my partner and it can be slow dancing, etc idc anything PLEASE!!! also I enjoy flirting with my partner in different languages like Japanese and Spanish the nicknames I love to use would be ハニー (hanii), 恋人 / こいびと (Koibito), Mi amor and Mi alma, I have all the love languages I'm serious lmaoo, for dates it would be like going to a movie theater and then afterwards we can go get dinner, or personal for me I would like to go to an arcade and the shop for a little and whatever my partner wants really lolz xP

appearance: I'm 5'6, i have a rectangular body, I have dyed black boy hair with bangs, inhale brown/hazel eyes, I wear glasses, I also have piercings on my nose, lips, ears, eyebrow, etc 😭, I also wear a shit load of styles like goth (trad goth, romantic goth, cyber goth, mall goth, and nu goth), gyaru (himekaji, hime gal, rokku, manba, banba, agejo, kogal, tsuyome and kigurumin) scenemo/emo, and vkei ouji and lolita, I usually wear those for fun, when I'm going out somewhere, social media, etc but when I'm at home/school/work I wear street clothing type of stuff like a sweatshirt and baggy pants hehehe, also if I were a demon in hazbin hotel id be looking like one of these mfs

hobbies/interests: anime/manga, gaming, cosplaying, fashion, art (painting, drawing, pottery, digital art, etc) learning new languages (Japanese and Spanish), cooking, volleyball, dancing, singing, listening to music/making music, playing piano/electric guitar , writing, collecting stuff(clothes, seashells, etc), shopping and more on

likes: vocaloid/utau, hajime hinata (danganronpa), a silent voice, albedo (genshin impact), lemon demon, felix kranken (twf), bread, sharks, christmas music/christmas in general, scp 3008 (roblox game), get a snack at 4am (roblox game), musicals, hotels, my friend, enstars (switchP + more), rhythm games, doukyuusei, mystic messenger, twf, genshin, a silent voice, lemon demon/neil cicierega in general, breaking bad eddsworld, homestuck, horimiya, hxh, the great gatsby, saiki k, hamilton (sadly, im sorry.)

dislikes: negitive mentions of my voice, comparing me to people/saying stuff like "you remind me of ____", and spiders.

also these are some of my top kins!!:  hiyori tomoe (enstars), yoosung kim (mystic messenger), jumin han (mystic messenger), hanako (tbhk), felix kranken (twf), albedo (genshin impact), shoya ishida (a silent voice), tom (eddsworld), eridan (homestuck), karkat (homestuck), miyamura izumi (horimiya), natsume sakasaki (enstars), sora harukawa (enstars), V (mystic messenger), hagumi kitazawa (bandori), matsubara kanon (bandori), shinji ikari (neon genesis evangelion), lain iwakura (serial experiments lain), hajime hinata (danganronpa) and more....!

どうもありがとう ！¡Que tengas un gran resto de tu día o noche!

こんにちは! 私は元気です. you are so freaking cool. plus, we’re both dancers?? so cool! sorry for getting to you a little later then usual, my dance recital is this weekend, so it’s been very hectic. though a don’t remember sending you a matchup? that is, unless you haven’t gotten to mine yet, which is completely fine; please take your time. nevertheless, to your matchup!

warnings: Unhealthy coping mechanisms (Vaping), Discussion of mental disorders (ADHD, Autism, BPD.), Arachnophobia

your Hazbin Hotel matchup is.. Charlie Morningstar !!

• I think you would get along best with Charlie!

• While I do headcanon her with ADHD, She’s very patient in her own sort of way. She’ll find ways to distract herself or find things to do in order to wait for things to happen; mainly with squishies I imagine. She understands where you’re coming from when you can’t stay focused because of your disorders, but is willing to show you some techniques she’s picked up to help her!

• She’s very quick to rush to your side and help you whenever you need it.

• Charlie doesn’t see anyone as awkward, so even if you feel that way just know she doesn’t see it like that.

• She loves to ramble! You can ramble together!

• She appreciates how observant and attentive you are, as it makes it easier to help patients/guests at the hotel (that is if you wish to help or work there. If anything, I think you’d be great advice!)

• You’d be a big help to her with any issues that plague her. She has so much on her mind; with you making simple solutions means a lot.

• When you have times where you’re scattered, she’s quick to jump to you and calm you down. Be it a nice hug or verbal reassurance.

• She does live in hell of course. I’d imagine vaping is a normal occurrence. On another note, she’s the owner of the Happy Hotel! She’d absolutely help you seek other coping mechanisms if you wish.

• We obviously see how much of a singer and dancer Charlie is, and as I said before I headcanon her as a theater kid!

• That being said she’d love to dance with you. Since she’s a princess she must know how to slow dance as well!

• The first time you used a nickname for her she stared blankly at you. Her heart was melted, even if she didn’t know what it meant. She’d soon learn what your nicknames mean eventually.

• When the hotel is in the hands of other managers, she’d have days to just focus on you. Date days! She’d love to have a day just focused on the two of you hanging out and doing whatever you wish specifically.

• She wears some sort of business goth (I think?), but I think feminine mall goth suits her well (Think like the band Kittie). She’s more on the cutesy and comfortable side of mall goth, but only dresses like this outside to hotel, mainly on date days.

• She indulges in lots of your hobbies by buying gifts that correlate with them! Since she is busy with the hotel and can’t do everything unfortunately.

• Silly headcanon, but she’d literally kicks Angel out for as long as you’re in the room knowing you don’t like spiders, but she’ll fail to acknowledge he barely looks like one aside from his long legs and multitude of arms. Maybe you appreciate it, maybe you don’t. I’ll leave it to you.

• You mean so much to Charlie, and she hopes it’s the same!

[wecantwrestle]

ARTMySpace

ポケモンショックばりのチカチカが大不評……？

The most intriguing thing about the 'Virtual Angel' MV for me is that it's pretty Y2K as Kim Lip said it is, but it's the Y2K other groups has kind of avoided. It's more vaporwave, it's more internet-ty and has the Myspace goth, emo, deathcore fan type of design. Their enthusiasm and even the toxicity of it in the day is there. It makes us think about the relationship between real/virtual and fan/idol at the same time. NJ kind of did it in 'Ditto' and 'OMG' without the real/virtual aspect, 'Virtual Angel' has more edge and aggression to it. It's in your face. It's in your brain. Because of the extreme editing. It's br00tal. I like it A LOT. I'll leave the lore to the experts.

[the-goth-catte]

[ Black Mass Christmas 12.25.22 ]

nWo Theme (Intro) Kanga - Home Incubite - Zombietronix Project Pitchfork - Rain Kim Petras - Treat Me Like a Slut Rankka - Satisfaction William Control - The Monster Suicide Commando - Hellraiser (Agonoize Remix) Faderhead - Dirtygrrls, Dirtybois Combichrist - Enjoy The Abuse KMFDM - Juke Joint Jezebel Metallica vs Sisters of Mercy vs NIN - Reflection of Puppets Powerman 5000 - Black Lipstick Rob Zombie - Dragula (Seann Mac Remix) Accessory - Ruff Fuxxx Siouxsie & The Banshees vs Revolting Cocks - Happy House of the Horny Mechanical Moth - Black Queen Style SITD - Kreuzgang (Agonoize Remix) Suicide Commando - Comatose Delusion (VAC Remix) Upon A Burning Body - Turn Down For What In This Moment - Adrenalize Halestorm - Freak Like Me MCR - Welcome to the Black Parade Lorna Shore - Sun//Eater Ghost - Watcher in the Sky Lizzo - About Damn Time (Purple disco Machine Remix) Tiesto - 10:35 (ft. Tate McRae) Faderhead - When the Freaks Come Out Rotersand - Exterminate Annihilate Destroy KMFDM vs Front 242 - Professional Headhunter Razed in Black - Oh My Goth! Lords of Acid - I Sit On Acid Beastie Boys - Intergalactic (Dunisco Remix) Daft Punk - Harder Better Faster Stronger (Nemix Remix) Age of Love - Age of Love (Dominatrix Final Remix) Prince - When Doves Cry (Extended Freestyle) Echo & The Bunnymen - Lips Like Sugar (Soulson25 Remix) The Cramps - Goo Goo Muck Rasputina - Transylvanian Concubine Emilie Autumn - Marry Me Voltaire - The Vampire Club

[j4pan]

V̴̢͈͆́Ȗ̸͖̱Ḷ̸̹͓̐͋̃T̷̮̳̘́̾͠U̷̧̳͋R̴̢̯̗̃́̆Ȇ̴͇̺̼̎̚S̷̫̀ ARE WAITING TO PICK UR BONES

[mareslua]

ㅤ ㅤ ⠀ Chapéu De Palha ✺ .˚˖ ⠀

     𓇼𓂋 ◌ 𓇼𓂋 ◌ 𓂋 ◌ 𓇼 𓂋 ◌ 𓇼 𓂋 ◌ 𓇼 𓂋 ◌

[wichois]

if I were a zombie, I'd never eat your brain, I'd just want your heart 🫀

for @c-atinhos

[doyoungr]

she’s a nirvana girl