#sorry for the slightly miserable quality you know how it is. but I HAD to makde this post it’s so in my brain

[theexorcistiii]

Severance (2022-) dir Ben Stiller, Aoife McArdle/The Double (2013) dir Richard Ayoade

[kessellluvr]

NYE - nsfw

word count: 1.6k

pairing: adult!lottie x afab!reader

youre lottie’s younger partner and she gets jealous easily.. :3

warnings: 18+ content, fingering, controlling!lottie, older!lottie, rough!lottie, bratty!reader, sub!reader, teasing!reader, intoxication, use of alcohol, mommy kink, nipple play, overstimulation, crying, begging

It was another one of those nights - you were out partying while Lottie was at home, she hated not having you by her side, especially on fucking new years eve. she wanted to spend quality time with you, have a romantic dinner even but you didnt care, you were younger and in that phase where you felt the need to party whenever you could. Lottie tried to talk you out of it but you never listened, you were a brat. You’ve asked her to come along with you because she’d throw tantrums about how she didnt want you to do mistakes which you’d regret. She didnt want to come along, she’d say shes too old for that kind of stuff and its not for her.

Well, today was different - you had left the house without saying goodbye, you two had just gotten in a fight and you were so fucking upset. you felt like blowing up. you came home late, clearly more intoxicated than you’ve ever been before - it was new years eve and youve been to the club with some friends. you clearly had your struggle to get the key into the keyhole of the front door, your vision was blurry but you somehow managed. you turned the key and pushed open the door, pulling out the key and slamming the door. you didnt really care if you might wake up Lottie. you went into the kitchen, couldn’t even walk straight - you threw your keys onto the counter and sat down on it, noticing lottie standing in the doorway to the living room - wearing her black robe. you rolled your eyes and tore your gaze away from her, fiddling with the rings on your fingers - her eyes were burning onto you, you felt yourself getting hot. she stepped closer to you, reaching out to grab your chin. you gulped and looked up at her, innocently. “you know how fucking worried i was? its three am!” she snapped at you, your eyes wide with lust, you were so drunk - her bad mood turned you on.

Lottie noticed the way your lips parted slightly, your eyelids starting to feel heavier - she scoffed and picked you up. “tell me what you did.” she said, trying to sound calmer but failing miserably. “well.. u-uhm.. i drank.. obviously..” you slurred drunkenly. you felt her roll her eyes as the carried you up the stairs and into the bedroom, she threw you on the bed and went to straddle your hips. her robe had fallen open slightly - revealing more of her bare chest, causing your breath to hitch. Lottie’s hand found its way to your shirt - pulling it over your head. she threw it aside carelessly and her hands went behind your back to undo your bra, throwing it off too. Lottie’s hand cupped your breast - her thumb and index finger going to pinch your nipple, causing you to cry out. “did someone else touch you, huh?” she asked - her eyes looked so possessed, fuck it was hot. you shook your head, her two fingers pinched harder, causing you to squirm and whine. a smirk curled upon Lottie’s lips, she let go of your breast and her hands went to undo your pants - pushing them down to the floor and leaving you in just your underpants. “you know mommy doesnt like you going out.. yet you keep doing it.” she murmed as she trailed her finger over your abdomen, sending a shiver along your skin. “mommy’s really upset about that..” she whispered, her lips dragging over the sensitive skin on your neck. “i-im sorry mommy..” you whimpered as her hand cupped your soaked cunt through your panties. her finger slipped under your waistband and pulled your panties down, her thumb trailed circles over your clit. “mommy’s gonna make you cum.. over and over again, until you beg for her to stop.” she murmed and you nodded, this was her form of punishment - overstimulation.

Lottie pulled you in for a kiss as two of her fingers sunk into your cunt, making you moan into her mouth - she smirked and pushed her tounge foward, claiming you once again. her fingers worked expertly, curling up against your g-spot and making you gasp. your hands grasped onto her robe - pulling it off and causing her to stop for a second, she chuckled before she kept going, her tounge dancing with yours as she pumped her fingers in and out your of your cunt. your hands were all over her body, trying to find something to hold on and settling on her waist - your hips bucked upward as she kept fingering you, your eyes rolling back in your head as you felt the waves of your orgasm hitting. “fuuuck.. mommy..” you cried out as your cum came dripping out your hole, Lottie pulled her fingers out - licking them and savouring your taste. “Hmm so good..”

Lottie backed off of you, walking towards the bedside table and pulling open a drawer. she pulled out a vibrator along with her strap-on. your eyes widened as you watched her from the bed, you shifted so you could rest your head on the pillow. Lottie walked back towards you, the vibrator in her hand and the strapon on the matress next to you. you looked up at her with wide eyes - you felt the alcohol still running through your system. she moved to sit and lean against the headboard “come sit between mommy’s legs.” you complied, shifting to sit between her legs, the back of your head resting against her chest. Lottie ran a finger along your inner thigh before grabbing both thighs and spreading them apart. you heard her switch the vibrator on a low level and you glared down to see her bringing it to your swollen clit. as soon as it made contact you gasped, hips bucking upwards. she used her left hand to caress your breasts - you squeezed your eyes shut and felt the sensations run through your veins, a switch clicked and the vibrations started going faster. making you moan harder, hands grasping the sheets as lottie cooed down at you. “hmm let go..” and you did, cumming for her once more. Lottie didnt pull the tog away, she turned the level up once more and your legs twitched as you cried out. she chuckled and her left arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to her and holding you steady. you felt her face nuzzling your neck as she pressed a kiss on there “take it for me..” she whispered into your ear before gently biting down on your lobe - you were a moaning mess, drunk on her words.

As Lottie turned the toy on the highest level, you felt as if you were gonna melt - whimpering in her embrace as your eyes were starting to water “m-mommy please.. i- i cant..” you whined and she moved her free hand to caress your abdomen “shhh.. baby you got this, one more for mommy..”

A tear ran down your cheek as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching, whining and crying out Lottie’s name as you came. “lottie.. please stop..!” your cry was muffled by her hand over your mouth.

After you finally somewhat calmed down, you laid against her chest - panting slightly. Lottie’s hand was caressing your hair, the vibrator was forgotten to the bedside table. you thought she was finally done punishing you but oh you were wrong. Lottie lifted you by your waist and made you face her, placing you on her lap as she pulled you in for a kiss again, her tounge ran over your lips and you split them, letting both your tounges tangle. after a few seconds she pulled back “now.. one more thing..” she said with that sweet, crooked grin (AHHHH :33) as she reached for the strap-on which laid on the matress. she carefully lifted you off her lap and went to put the strap around her waist, making sure it was tight enough and secure. you bit your lower lip, spreading your legs. Lottie raised a brow “get up.” her tone was more commanding now. you stood up and felt your legs trembling slightly, you looked up at the taller woman “turn around and bend over.” your eyes wide as you complied, spinning around and bending over the bed - it was a rather high bed so it wasnt a problem for lottie to reach you (idk did that make sense??). as soon as you were in position her hand flew across your asscheek, causing you to flinch slightly. Lottie chuckled lowly as she went to position herself, pressing the tip of her purple strap-on against your sore cunt. your eyes squeezed shut as you felt her push foward, your mouth hung open - your hands gripping on the sheets as she started thrusting back and forth, groaning as she did so. Lottie’s grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer as she slammed the toy in and your cunt. “fuck.. lottie..” you moaned as you felt your fourth orgasm approaching. “so fucking tight.. yet you take mommy so well.” you moaned again, your face buried in the sheets as tears started to form in your eyes once more, your moans became louder and louder until you finally felt the knot in your lower area releasing. your whole body shook slightly, she kept pumping back and forth, her movements becoming slower as she let you fully ride out your last orgasm. “mhmm done so well for me.” she praised as she slowly pulled out.

and with that she left the room, probably off to take a shower as you laid on the bed, properly used by her. you had definitely learned your lesson from this.

AN: i have no fucking idea what this is just uhm yes

[hereforthefunnyguys]

I will talk to you about fragileshipping.

Give head cannons please (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

OKAY OKAY OKAY... Let's get it on!!!! (ty for this lol) Sorry my first part of this is just propaganda for them then I'll do headcanons <3.

So the first thing here that I find fascinating is that despite the fact we get to see Ryou and Atem interact very little in canon, what we do see establishes that Atem is very very very worried about Ryou and genuinely does want to take care of him (see: the shadow duel between yb and yy on the KaibaCorp blimp aftermath). Also bonus fact: Atem cradles Ryou after the fight in the exact same way Anzu (who expresses a canonical romantic and at least very strong platonic interest in Atem) does with him a few hours later with Yami Marik's shadow game, so take from that what you will.

Second of all, as I have mentioned before, I do think they would have this interesting dynamic where Ryou really wants A) a fantasy world, B) a lack of responsibility, and C) someone to be his friend for Ever and Ever (said slightly threateningly), and Atem A) is basically a fantasy trope come to life that promises Grand Adventure, B) is willing to take responsibility for Literally Anything ever, including things that are not his fault, and C) wants to take care of all his friends and collects people who like him like keychain charms. So already you have that particular dynamic with potential for chemistry going on, and it could either go Bad (mutually destructive flaws that they mistake for working well together), Good (helps pull each other out of their respectively Very Bad situations), or a secret third thing (lifelong mutual obsession that keeps them alive and well but also very codependent.) Lots of stuff going on there already.

But I digress, you wanted headcanons. So!

It did Not start with the rescue romance fantasy on Ryou's part. Ryou was very grateful and all for the help Yami Yugi provided with the whole "killer monster world" thing, but ultimately considered it a group effort on the part of his new friends.

By contrast it Absolutely started with the rescue romance fantasy with Atem. He did not realize it at the time because he is Out Of Touch with his emotions but it most certainly started with seeing someone so very much like his dear partner stuck in a terrible situation that he really wants to help with but can't stay to monitor all the time. However it did not progress further until:

Ryou got interested when he heard/figured out Atem was a ghost/spirit. You mean there are Other Ghosts in the world? That do not try to make my life miserable and call me a loser when I'm trying to do my homework? Thats so cool!

I think in contrast to Yugi - who considers Atem's more "creepy" qualities useful but also slightly worrying - and most of his other friends - who consider these qualities actively disturbing and try to ignore them (Anzu "Shadow Games are hot" Mazaki notwithstanding) - Ryou is very much Into It. He is obsessed with how shadow games work. What do you mean you can just summon psychic fire out of thin air but only if the game demands it??? Thats amazing. Do you want to get married (said in that characteristically Ambiguously Joking Ryou voice)

So it is also a very new feeling to Atem of not having to worry about showing off those qualities, and you know, it's kind of nice to have someone appreciate your more freaky qualities! But also he is simultaneously repressing them around Ryou because they remind him of how uncomfortably close he seems to acting like the Spirit of the Ring at times, which then adds another layer of Worry onto his relationship to Ryou

I got off topic again didn't I

Anyways Ryou is constantly playing Supernatural (Deconstructed Mix) by kesha in the bg whenever Atem is there

Atem is Panicking and Dying to try and figure out how to send a gift that sufficiently states "Sorry I had to Run Your Body Over With the Power of God Do You Still Like Me" without seeming too desperate

Ryou is obsessed with the mysterious demon and doesn't know the mysterious demon is actually his guardian angel

I think Atem is willing to sit through So Many bad horror movies for Ryou's sake but he does actually really love Monster World

They are going on a dinner date where Ryou introduces Atem to all the pastries he missed out on since Ancient Egyptian times, including that wonderful concoction known as chocolate

I don't know if this is what you wanted but

I'm in love with them esp the idea of Millennium Item swap au's aughahah

I need to see more of their canon interactions I'm dying here

In conclusion:

[baugojo]

♡XIAO!YAKSHA argument w love

arguing with xiao is like arguing with a brick wall. your boyfriend, sometimes forgets that you, have a ton of human emotion. so right now, your hands are being thrown in the air every so often for dramatic affect; and he’s standing there, taking it.

you weren’t mad at him for an invalid reason. you actually had a good point as to what upset you so much.

when traveling all together on accident and colliding down at the bottom of the chasm, you and yanfei found a way to connect with xiao and bring him to you. but after figuring out the time-loop, and the true loss of his friend’s life; you found an exit.

yelan and xiao used the said compass to help you all get out of this mess; whilst then xiao had full control of it, and you, yelan and yanfei fought the darkness that swormed.

for some odd reason, this entire small trip of yours, with friends, and boyfriend, he was awfully admiring the thought of sacrifice. and so when the compass was breaking, he teleported all of you to the surface; allowing him to fall alone. in the dark. zhongli had a feeling this would occur, and so luckily he was there to save your boyfriend. but what if..

“xiao, you could’ve died!” your voice on the cusp of a screech, you continued. “what then huh?”

“you were safe. that is all that mattered to me.” he defended, “I am an adeptus, it is my venture to protect liyue and its people.”

“what about being my protector? I don’t care if I’m stuck with you for eternity down there! sacrificing yourself is never the answer xiao!”

“it is when it was the only option for your safety!”

“no it isn’t!”

this argument was pointless. you were getting nowhere. you couldn’t really understand why xiao spoke so much about sacrificing himself earlier in the chasm, because you thought you’d made him a little less miserable. the moment you felt yourself touch the air above, when your feet hit the ground, you were quick to try running back into the chasm. but yelan held you back.

“I’m going to bed.” you mumbled; because after a long and complicated discussion full of yelling, how could you not be tired? in fact, xiao should be resting much more than you. but you weren’t going to push him right now.

you slush yourself into the shared bedroom in the teyvat building, knowing well that the wangshu inn walls were top quality, and still, verr could probably hear you both. you weren’t going to hear the end of it tomorrow.

fluffing your pillow now, you got yourself ready for bed. you couldn’t fight him anymore. like said in the beginning, it was like arguing with a brick wall. not because xiao could care less about you, or your feelings, no. xiao loves you, and for that, he’d do literally anything. but more so because xiao cannot comprehend the way he makes people feel sometimes; how he makes you feel, making poor decisions such as this.

he worries you. you felt your heart pound out of your chest, reliving the moments where you really thought you’d lost the love of your life forever.

as if on cue to the small twinkle of water that melted off the side of your face, your boyfriend wiped the tear from your stained cheek. he felt bad, slightly coming to an understanding on how you felt. I mean, you are his world; what if you were to do the same? what really got to him, was the spoken liquid that laced your beautiful complexion.

“please don’t cry my love.” xiao could feel your discomfort, hurt, fear, causing him to wrap himself around you, enclosing you in his body, as your head measles it’s way into his soft abed chest. still wanting to hit him and fight him, for now, you’d except the comfortable aura that now served the room. “I’m sorry.” xiao’s voice whispered; whilst his chin rests upon your head of hair, comfortably. “though as an adeptus I swore to protect the people of liyue, as your partner I also swore to protect you.”

“I love you.” his hands drabbled along your sides, now resting his head in the crook of your neck; allowing you to swirl your pointer-finger around in circles with strands of the green-blue locks combed through. “I love you.” you replied, still wrapping his hair around your digits, falling asleep in what felt like seconds after; satisfying xiao. and now he, can also rest.

as you predicted, you didn’t hear the end of it when trying to leave wangshu inn discreetly, verr was just waiting for you to try and leave without her catching sight of you.

an: I cried playing the perilous quest lmao.

[pleasuresoftheharbor]

what are the best phil ochs books/documentaries in ur opinion?

well there are really only four big ones in total so i'll just give my opinions on all of them :) for books:

there but for fortune - i personally much prefer this one, i think it's a pretty solid/mostly accurate biography that's well written, and if you're looking to read a phil ochs biography i would recommend this one! in terms of quality of writing + accuracy i think this book is the much better option

death of a rebel - i really did not like this book, to the point where i had to make myself read the second half in one sitting just to get it over with 😭 i read a lot of biographies and i'm just not a fan of the style this one was written in, with lots of made up dialogue almost like a fictional story. it felt really dramatized and tabloid-y to me, and it seemed to focus unnecessarily on his flaws/more miserable years. obviously you've got to include the facts in a biography, but i think it's one thing to tell the harder truths, and another to really linger and lean into those rougher stories in order to tell a more dramatic story, which is how this book felt. personally i found that it felt a bit exploitative, and i also know that it's got a bit of misinformation in it. all this being said, i know some people did quite enjoy it, and if you ever do read it, i would just take specific details with a grain of salt!

for documentaries:

there but for fortune (no relation to the book) - i forever have mixed feelings on this one. for starters, at times it feels a bit more like a documentary on the 60s in general rather than phil's life + his work. it's not very thorough, and i really don't like how it leaves off on his death without any sort of conclusion about his legacy/whatnot. it makes the film feel very bleak, and i don't really like how it somewhat feels like the main takeaway is "look at how fucked up this guy's life was." with all this being said, there is some really great unreleased footage of interviews and whatnot that you can't find anywhere else in this one, and for this reason only i would say it's worth watching

chords of fame - this one is so low budget and cheesy but it has heart okay... you have to go into it with an open mind and acknowledge that you are watching a slightly bad documentary/biopic fusion from the 80s and then you can truly appreciate it. the choice to have the actor playing phil cover all of his songs up until the credits is certainly something but it's fun. also if you already know a bit about phil ochs/his life the interviews with his friends in this one are especially interesting!

okay this is so long i'm so sorry... and i'm sorry for being such a hater i tried to be positive but it's such slim pickings when it comes to phil ochs content. i think if i were less insane i might like some of these more but i care about phil ochs to such a religious extent that it pains me to see him misrepresented in any sort of way. my final statements are that 1) there but for fortune (book not movie) is the best out of all of these in my opinion and 2) i know a lot of people have enjoyed the books/films that i dislike so do not take my word as gospel ! okayy that's all<3

[blackandwhlteaesthetlc]

I’m sorry but this is so stupid all perfume are unisex, pleasing is just trying to gain woke points for something that already exist and people are fallin for it acting as if it’s groundbreaking. Also if you have to use vaseline for a perfume to last maybe the perfume is just not good quality.

Okay, sounds like my review wasn’t for you. Maybe let people just enjoy things and be excited if something like perfumes makes them happy?

I should leave it there but because you chose to take such an cunty tone with me, I’ll just match it.

To both of your obnoxious points: No shit. 🙄

Who exactly is acting like Pleasing is doing something “groundbreaking” by having unisex fragrances? I didn’t write that anywhere in my review and I certainly didn’t see anyone comment that in the notes. I don’t see Pleasing advertising that themselves anywhere either.

Of course all fragrances can be unisex, anyone can wear whatever the fuck they want. But in trying to make your eye-roll worthy point about this brand trying to be “woke” you ignored that I actually included an example of a fragrance that was also marketed as being unisex because surprise! Fragrances are still very much advertised as being more “feminine” or masculine” or “perfumes” vs “colognes.” So obviously I’m aware this isn’t something new being offered by this brand. Don’t be obtuse here, I was trying to assure people who were curious (clearly not you) that the notes in the samples did not lean heavily one way or another and my personal opinion will be that these can be sold as “unisex.” It’s a label anyone slightly interested in fragrances (not you) will know is used to indicate what you can expect from the notes themselves. Some people, as evidenced by the notes and dms I got, appreciate that sort of info (again, not you).

And I agree it’s disappointing if a fragrance doesn’t have lasting power. This isn’t the only time I’ve had this happen. I’ve tried some hugely popular luxury perfumes that lasted maybe 5mins on my skin. So for me, brand and price point does not indicate quality. But if someone truly loves a scent there are some tricks to try IF they want to take the risk in investing in a fragrances that may not perform how how they want. And really the only one I had that issue with was Rivulets but whatever, you don’t actually care about specifics. You just wanted to complain and try to sound superior to anyone slightly excited about this release. 🙃

But I digress.

My opinion, which I thought was clear to anyone with proper reading comprehension (obviously not, my mistake) is that the scents themselves are pretty complex and carefully layered. To me, that indicates some serious consideration was put into them which supports my opinion that they’re of slightly higher quality than your typical “celebrity fragrance” which usually just smell like alcohol and potpourri to me. I’ve tried plenty, hate most. I didn’t hate these, my overall impression is positive but I honestly said one did not mix well with my own skin chemistry so people can make their own decisions whether they want to buy or not as they might have the same experience.

There. Did I downplay my excitement about the samples enough to satisfy your hate for the big, bad brand that only uses Harry’s name and face to make money for his friends? Or whatever the fuck you want to make yourself miserable about this week.

[solitaryandwandering]

Hi....If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

Hiya! Of course I don't mind, thank you so much for asking!! This question is... EVERYTHING. I've subsisted almost solely on different forms of narrative art my entire life, this list could seriously span MILLENNIA (and would not account for quality lol). I'll do 7, just because I tend to spend FOREVER making these lists, haha. I'm not generally into manga or anime so those will be excluded, sorry! I also try to pick something different for every list I do, so here's hoping I don't repeat anything I've talked about before!

A Series of Unfortunate Events (my favorite is book #4, The Miserable Mill) by Lemony Snicket (pub. 1999-2006; United States) - 4/5

Other than just being a fantastically written children's book series, the answer to why I love this so much is pretty personal and would take up an entire essay's worth of unpacking. So I'll try to keep it short (ha!). When I said above that I basically subsisted on media as a kid, I was not joking. Books were my first love precisely because they allowed me an escape. I was ostracized by many of my peers in school and had nowhere else to turn except books - mostly fiction, mostly fantasy, but I read a LOT of classics, Greek mythology, Sherlock Holmes, Nancy Drew, Shakespeare, etc. One of the genres I gravitated to most was gothic fiction/poetry - something I consider foundational to my current taste and sense of humor - and no book nor series was more accessible than ASOUE. I still vividly remember discovering the series in my elementary school library; while everyone else was doing something or other with the group I snuck off into the shelves and boredly perused until I came across what was probably The Grim Grotto. The texture of the hardcover, its design, the ART immediately captivated me. It stood so widely apart from the other children's books on those shelves. Then I hunched over on the floor and began reading. And... I don't even know what about it grabbed me. It might have been that these intelligent kids were also lonely, also struggling to survive, surrounded by ignorant and neglectful adults. It might have been Snicket's style, absurdist and full of big words my slightly pretentious kid brain gobbled up. Maybe it was its mystery, the thrill of an anonymous author who very well may have actually published these books! from a secret bunker or shack on an island!, commiserating, asking me for help. Maybe it was how dark it was, paired with delightful humor which PERMEATED every page, probably my first real introduction to dark humor. I wandered away with that book (and The Carnivorous Carnival) before I was ushered back by the librarian or a teacher once we realized I had not read the first books in the series yet. My eyes must have been as big as dinner plates. The rest is history; The End may very well have been one of my first "anticipated events" in the world of narrative media. I own the entire series now, including that hardcover copy of the last book I picked up at Borders in the first couple of weeks after its release.

2. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde (1890; United Kingdom) - 3/5

This is a book I read on my iPod Touch in high school. Only book I ever did that with haha. I think at the time I had just signed up for Goodreads and they had a free version of the book on their website? Anyway, that didn't stop me from absolutely loving it. I had never stopped reading things in the vein of gothic fiction, but it wasn't until high school that I started to read (some) more explicitly horror-oriented stuff. Horror books have never really been my cup of tea, simply because I tend to either get TOO immersed or bored very quickly. I'm pretty confident in crediting this book for giving me one of my first satisfying tastes of horror in a literary form. That ending still STICKS with me, man!! The psychological horror of it all! I don't think I really picked up on the queer (sub?)text all that much besides in the character of Basil Hallward which is more an indication of how much I was struggling with compulsory heterosexuality than of the CLEAR intent of Wilde in... everything he put in TPODG. I'm pretty sure I had only relatively recently come out to myself (and was still closeted). But regardless, this book also launched an utter fascination with Wilde himself; when I visited Paris with my mom and aunt in my senior year I insisted on visiting Wilde's tomb in Père Lachaise Cemetery (the entire place is AWESOME btw). Standing in front of the tomb, reading the epitaph, reflecting on his life and art and how it influenced the lives of queer people in the UK, meditating on my own future as a queer person and my context in queer history, was a pretty significant moment in my queer journey.

3. Avatar: The Last Airbender created by Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko (ran 2005-2008; United States) - 10/10

I mean, what more is there to say about this amazing show? How gorgeously animated, written and acted it is? How compassionately each character was written? How it made concepts like genocide and warmongering not only accessible but legible for children? How it's literally a children's cartoon but is one of the most moving portraits of micro- and macro-level geopolitical grief? How abuse and efforts to reclaim a life mottled by it is a PRESENT and CLEAR theme? How much the theme song SLAPS?? Fuck, I need to rewatch this. On a more personal note, Toph was the first example I saw in media of a legitimately blind character - not just one "playing at" blindness. Her being a MAIN character and so completely in charge of her shit was fucking incredible to me. Then! The impossible! She was COMPLEX, allowed to be realistically limited by her blindness and youth. Though I wasn't able to completely relate to her as someone who was only a "low vision" blind person her character existing at all gave me a lot of strength. And yes, I would be an Earth bender.

4. Teen Titans created by Sam Register and Glen Murakami (ran 2003-2006; United States) - 9/10

I don't really know what to say about this, it's honestly here based off a lot of nostalgia as I haven't re-watched more than the first couple of episodes after I graduated kid-dom. But this is yet another example of great characters navigating abusive or toxic relationships, all the while kicking butt as super-cool superheroes. I've always been a huge sucker for superheroes (I haven't bought into the current superhero craze for quite some time though); these teens took the cake and so did that THEME SONG!! Still occasionally plays on a loop in my head! Looking back I absolutely had a crush on Starfire though I REPRESSED THAT SHIT and instead focused on how absolutely cool and badass Raven was (also probably had a crush on her tbh). Of course, her story of overcoming her overwhelming emotions and mental illness (such as they were, in a kid's superhero cartoon) resonated with me quite a bit. Outwardly, though, I was absolutely obsessed with Cyborg. I had this running joke as a kid where I would tell people I was a cyborg because I had a cochlear implant. Cyborg gave me a cultural reference to relate to and I LOVED HIM for it. Even if Beast Boy was my favorite.

5. My School President dir. Au Kornprom Niyomsil (ran 2022-2023; Thailand) - 9/10

I blame my sappy, sentimental heart and preteen obsession with High School Musical for this one. But let's be real, this show is SO CUTE. It came along at the perfect time, too, as I was struggling pretty badly with depression and PTSD flashbacks in the beginning of 2023. MSP was the first time in a while I really felt like I had "something to look forward to" in terms of appointment television. I enjoy watching TV as it airs but it's very rare for me to latch on to a show so much that I get EXCITED when it airs, let alone for it to genuinely keep me buoyant and, for lack of a better word, going. The last time that happened was in high school for the brief period of time we had BBC America and I could watch Doctor Who. MSP is just so... joyful. It made me happy. Sweet, consistent, well-acted, with love seeping out of every pore... so easy to love. It has just the right amount of tongue-in-cheek cheesiness while still taking itself and it's characters' troubles seriously. Though the music wasn't always my thing (those boys are not stellar singers... yet), all the songs fit with the story and were very fun and touching - I'd be lying if I said I didn't still JAM OUT whenever a MSP song plays on Spotify. Despite some small misses here and there, it still managed to be incredibly smartly-written. I was not expecting this show to be so good or to make me so emotionally invested. Right up my alley.

6. Hereditary dir. Ari Aster (2018; USA) - 5/5

Though it may be a surprise to those of who I've come to know in my exploration of (mostly televised) BL, I consider movies to be what I'm most passionate about, if we had to pick a medium of narrative storytelling. I've loved films since I was very little but my love for film was revitalized with a PASSION in college. 2018 was a big year for movies, Hereditary being one of its many shining lights. Seeing this still remains one of my best theater experiences. My best friend and I spontaneously decided to see this when we were bored and in desperate need to put off the realities of school. I had been laboriously begging them to see Hereditary with me and was THRILLED to go, armed with trivia and opinions of film critics to unload as soon as we walked out (I am so thankful they put up with me). We were one of around maybe 20 other theatergoers, so we could hear every single gasp and comment made under the breath of anyone around us. It was GREAT. Not only the movie, of course, which is a phenomenally directed and acted (#OscarForToni) horror/family drama; the audience reacted perfectly. It felt like a truly communal experience, laughing and exhilarating together at our collective fear and awe. When the lights went up we all grinned at each other and trembled our way out to the parking lot. Especially great considering I've heard horror stories (lol) of people laughing during some screenings??? And yes, of course, the movie itself is very very good. I can't watch much horror because of the aforementioned issues with TOO MUCH immersion but regardless, on a purely academic front horror is one of my favorite genres to study. All that to say, I've grafted a tougher skin when it comes to watching certain kinds of horror films and know what to avoid. Films like this one, with so much artistic integrity (get back to me on the disability rep, I have thoughts), keep me coming back for more. Nothing prepared me for Annie sawing her fucking head off with a piano wire though, no thanks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

7. Eighth Grade dir. Bo Burnham (2018; USA) - 5/5

Guess the theme of this answer became "let me tell you about incredibly personal pieces of media and force you to listen" but hey. Favorites are favorites. Holy fuck, this movie hit me. I'm sure it's not a surprise to anyone who's followed me for any length of time that coming of age narratives are some of my favorites; this doubly holds true for film. Though the girl in this movie is very much of Gen Z there are so many elements of her middle school experience that resonate with my teen years, including the absolutely horrific decision to put unbearable YouTube videos up of yourself for EVERYONE TO SEE. God, for most of this I was cringing in absolute embarrassment. How did Bo crawl into my past?? Why did he put it on screen, AGAIN? Genuinely, though, I was completely blown away. Most people recognize Bo's talent as a filmmaker at this point but this was his first try at making a feature film. I came into this knowing of his previous work, having watched (and loved) his comedy specials and purchased his poetry book. I also knew of many of his Vines, of course. But nothing prepared me for how GOOD this is. To choose this subject is wonderful in the first place but to then, in his FIRST FEATURE FILM, completely compassionately excavate and examine the anxieties and small (but so insurmountable!) problems of an entirely normal eighth grade girl is POWERFUL. Nearly impossible to do, let alone with this much skill and insight. Every choice he makes as a director with his camera and actor directions entirely SUPPORT the story instead of being flashy additions. An excruciating watch for any AFAB person who struggles with social anxiety (mine reared its ugly head in ninth grade), especially if you're sitting in a very small independent movie theater in the middle of nowhere, Maine (not my home state). Still, absolutely beautiful and emotive, one of the most true-to-life films I've ever seen. This, I should absolutely rewatch. Maybe when I feel like being tortured.

[inhuman-obey-me]

Deadly Envy

Word Count: 1.8k Description: Perhaps directing insults directly to the Avatar of Envy's face is a mistake -- or, Leviathan reminds some demons of their place. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Finally got back to continuing this, so here's Leviathan! Apologies for the delay, hope this is okay;; Note: Vepar is a demon associated with the sea and is one of the 72 demons that Solomon has a pact with, mentioned in the Ars Goetia. They were often depicted as a merman. Lassal is a minor demon named in the Liber de Angelis and is associated with the moon. Can also be found on AO3 here. content warning: blood, brute force violence, mild gore, use of hallucinogens

The Avatar of Envy was not one to find comfort in being alone with his thoughts, but there were times where he would wander to a certain cove by the oceanside, a place just for him where he found a sense of peace, a sense of belonging. The taste of salt in the air, the gentle spray of ocean mist, the sound of the waves crashing into the surrounding rocks -- yes, this was another home for him, one he dearly missed.

Leviathan closed his eyes, basking in the light of the Devildom moon as he debated going into the water tonight. It would be nice to go for a swim, but he was also itching to get back home and watch the latest episode of the anime he had recently gotten into.

“Well, well, who do we have here?”

Leviathan’s eyes snapped open, his body tense as he recognized the voice of the demon who unceremoniously interrupted him.

“Vepar,” the name left the sea serpent’s lips in a near hiss. “What are you doing here?”

“Why, enjoying the view this fine evening. I assume you’re doing the same? What a surprise, to see you actually outside! I thought you loved the computer screen more these days.” They laughed, a ripple of malice present in what should have been a joyous sound.

Of all demons, why did it have to be Vepar that had found his sanctuary? Every time Leviathan looked at them, or thought about them, envy bubbled in his chest and filled every fiber of his being.

Vepar had been one of the angels who fell alongside the brothers in the Great Celestial War - one of the few survivors outside of his family - and had been a rather high-ranking officer in the army at the time. After becoming a demon, they managed to become a Captain in Hell’s Royal Navy, following Leviathan as his subordinate. Or, that’s how it would have appeared, if it wasn’t for the fact that Vepar had seemingly lost all respect for their superior.

Their relationship was practically non-existent these days, as the Royal Navy hadn’t been active in centuries. They were never terribly close to begin with, but a great chasm seemed to have opened up between them as the years passed and Leviathan watched Vepar be so … successful.

How was it that this demon who ranked beneath him had managed to climb up so much higher in the social sphere? In true normie fashion, they had no issue conversing with strangers and seemed to make friends wherever they went. They were smooth with their words, charming with their smile, and always knew the right thing to say.

Except when it came to Leviathan.

“What’s with that look? I was just speaking the truth, wasn’t I?” Vepar grins, their mockery obvious. They brush a long lock of hair from their face before looking over their shoulder. “Oh, Lassal, look who I found!” They call out behind them, and soon another demon appears from the dark, his wispy white hair reflecting the moonlight. He was one of the lesser demons who seemed to cling to Vepar whenever they were together.

“Ah, Lord Leviathan..!” Lassal starts a bit nervously, unsure how to act in this situation. After all, he often joined in on the endless ribbing of the Avatar of Envy. The Greater Demon was never around to hear it, so what was the harm? “It’s, uh, nice to see you.”

“I was just telling him how strange it was to see him here. After all, I don’t think there’s a video game store anywhere near this area.” Vepar continues, the deriding smile still on his face. “Such a rare sighting of the ever-elusive demon. And all alone, too … but, I suppose it’s true that you don’t have any friends.”

Leviathan glares at the long-haired demon, his hands now curled into fists as they continue their jabs. Has he really become such a joke? Of course, a worthless otaku like me doesn’t deserve any respect, he thinks, They only care about my position when they have to…

“I would offer you to join us, but… hmm, you’d honestly just kill the mood.” Vepar shrugs, turning to Lassal, and attempts to get him to join in. “Isn’t that right? I mean, we all know how pathetic he is!”

The jealous thoughts continue to invade his mind. They only care because of my brothers. I’m obviously the weakest link, huh? Even Solomon liked Vepar enough to make a pact with them … they might be even better friends than we are …

“R-right!” Lassal easily bends to the other demon’s will. “Sorry, Leviathan, but you’re not really fun to have around.”

And then they feel comfortable enough to talk like this to me, to my face?! They have all the qualities I lack, everything is so much easier for them, and I’m just a laughing stock who only deserves mockery, huh? Is that it..?

“Oh, so polite. Come now, weren’t we talking earlier of how sad of a demon he is?”

“Yeah,” All nervousness is gone from Lassal, a rather smug expression taking over his features instead. “It’s hard to believe that he’s one of the demons ruling over us...it’s funny because even he knows how depressing he is, isn’t that right?”

They really think they’re so much better than me?!

“And to think, he’s Grand Admiral -- ”

“SHUT UP!” Leviathan finally speaks, his envy burning hot and turning into rage as he lunges at Vepar, his claws digging into their throat. “You actually think you can just talk to me like that?” His eyes shift, turning more snake-like while ink spreads through his sclera. His horns grow larger, his tail longer, and his teeth look a bit too sharp when he growls at them. “May I remind you that YOU serve under ME?”

A gargled choke manages to leave the caught demon’s mouth, their eyes wide in surprise. Lassal, who let out a squeak of terror when the third-born attacked, was trying to scurry away from the scene -- only to be caught by Leviathan’s tail in a tight grip.

“And where do you think you’re going?” The sea serpent shot a deadly glare at the lower-level demon, hoisting him up into the air to dangle upside-down. Leviathan turns his attention back to the other demon, trying to stop himself from ripping their head off right then and there.

“I might not be the most sociable guy, or the most popular, or the coolest, or … whatever! But if you really think you can just talk shit to my face and get away with it, you’ve got another thing coming.” His forked tongue slips through his lips with a menacing hiss. “It seems you both need a reminder that I’m the Third Demon Lord, your superior, your Greater, your ruler.”

“I-I’m sorry…” Vepar manages to get out, their previous haughty air vanishing as dread sunk in, a heaviness sinking into their bones. “I--”

“Oh, save your fucking apologies, Vepar!” Leviathan spits at their face. “If it wasn’t for your little pact with Solomon, I would kill you this instant.” He momentarily digs his claws further into their skin. “Your little friend, on the other hand…”

Lassal whimpers, trying to shake his head furiously. “P-please Lord Leviathan! I-I only said such things b-because Vepar made me! They -- “ His words are cut off with a choke as the Avatar’s tail tightens around their neck as Leviathan brings him close to his own face.

“Wow, throwing them under the bus? I guess I can’t expect anything more from the likes of you.” Leviathan sneers, the claws of his free hand going to drag down along Lassal’s face, venom leaving their tips and entering his bloodstream. With a flick of his tail he slams Lassal into the ground head-first, the jagged rock they were upon cracking slightly from the force. “If you thought I was going to go cry in my room because of your taunting, you were sadly mistaken.”

Lassal’s skull was fractured, blood dripping from the head wound caused by impact. If he was trying to say anything more, it came out in incoherent words and sounds, which soon turned into struggling screams. The venom that now coursed through his veins had a hallucinogenic quality that made the victim feel as if they were drowning, and it seemed to be working rather well. Leviathan thrashed him about again, making sure to smash his skull against the rock over and over and over and over and --

“Leviathan, stop! He’s dead!” Vepar screams, managing to get some more words out as the grip on their throat had slightly loosened while the Avatar was preoccupied with the other demon. Leviathan makes sure to deliver one more whack for good measure before dropping Lassal to the ground, his head smashed to bits and nothing more than a messy pile of bone, blood, and flesh.

“So he is.” His voice is cold, distant. His orange-purple eyes are glowing as he turns his attention back to the still living demon. “Now, as for you, Vepar… what was it that you wanted to say earlier? Something about how you couldn’t believe I could still be called the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy?”

“I-I didn’t say that, I just … look, I’m sorry, okay? You just a-appeared to have become so weak, you -- “

“...became an easy target?” Leviathan finishes their thought. “Well, let this be a lesson, Vepar. Think you’re better than me all you want, think you have so much more than I do, but at the end of the day…” He drags his claws down Vepar’s chest, sharp points sinking into their flesh and creating several large gashes that spurt dark ichor. They bite their lip in an attempt to hold back their cries of pain, tears streaming down their cheeks. “...I am at the top. I have more power than you do, and I will make sure that your existence will be a miserable one if you dare challenge me again.”

Mumbled words left Vepar’s lips, soon followed by a sharp cry when Leviathan sank his claws into their torso once more.

“What was that?”

“Y-yes Grand Admiral, sir. N-never again, sir!” The words tumbled out without a second thought, the demon trying not to let his body tremble too much from the mix of fear and pain.

“Good.” Leviathan retracts his claws and lets Vepar slump to the ground to their knees, his cold gaze lingering on them for a moment before looking over to the mangled corpse of Lassal. Turning away from the scene, Leviathan begins to walk away, raising a hand in the air.

“Clean that mess up.” He pauses, looking over his shoulder to fix the fellow sea demon a menacing glare. “And that’s an order.”

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Almost (c.e.)

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word Count: ~5.9k

Summary: You and Chris were set up on a blind date by your mutual friends. Sparks flew, but you never heard from him again. Two years later, you come face-to-face with him once more for their friends wedding.

Warnings: Some angst, swearing, not much else

A/N: This is a mixture of the movie “Life as We Know It” (mmm Daddy Josh Duhamel 🤤), a dating experience I had, and one scene from One Tree Hill. Enjoy.

My Masterlist

                    Two years ago…

My heart is pounding all the way to my ears. My hands are shaking under the table. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I wait.

I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I let her convince me to do this?

“You haven’t had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known you.” My best friend so pointedly mentioned when we were out to lunch last week.

 “What’s wrong with that?” I counter.

“I’ve known you for three and a half years.” She deadpans. Even without looking at her, I know she has her eyebrow raised at me and her lips are pursed.

“Your point?” I know she thinks my serious lack of companionship these past few years is wearing on me, but it’s been quite the opposite. Not being attached is freeing. I can do what I want when I want; I don’t have anyone to answer to. If I want to sleep until 3 on a Saturday, I’m going to do it. If I don’t want to socialize with anyone, I won’t. If I want to take a spontaneous road trip, I’m going to do it. My life is my own and that’s how I like it.

“I want my best friend to have someone to experience life with.”

My shoulders dropped, sighing in defeat. There was no way I was getting out of this conversation.

“I want you to be as happy as I am.” I see the love in her eyes as her mind goes to her boyfriend and their new relationship. They’ve only been together for a few months, but I know that this is it for her. She’s a smitten kitten and he is equally as infatuated with her. They’re sickeningly cute. “Which is why I think you need to meet one of his friends-”

“Lemme stop you right there,” I interrupt her, “I hate blind dates.”

“You’ve never been on one.”

“And there’s a reason for that.” She rolled her eyes at me. “They’re cliché, they’re awkward for both parties, and they never amount to anything, thus being a total waste of time.”

She sighed, “Ever the skeptic.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Regardless,” she continues, “I think you’ll really like this guy. He’s already expressed interest in you.”

Like that makes everything better. “Great so now I have to live up to his impossible expectations of me when I know absolutely nothing about him.” As if the idea of a blind date wasn’t bad enough, now it’s only a semi-blind date. There’s no doubt in my mind that she has hyped me up impossibly high, that’s what a best friend is for. However, when your confidence level is next to none and already skeptical of the pending meeting, there’s no way he’ll like who I am in reality.

“I can tell you anything you want to know about him.” She is bargaining with me. She really wants me to meet this guy. She wouldn’t be trying this hard if she didn’t believe we would hit it off.

“Well is he nice?” This was the only real question I had. If he isn’t kind then there’s really no future.

“Incredibly!” She continues to tell me of the many things he has done for a charity he started a few years ago and slowly but surely she was starting to convince me. If he was that generous then he has to have a good heart and therefore is a good man.

How bad could it be?

I check my phone, glancing at the time. Great, he’s late. That can’t be a good start.

Numerous reasons why popped into my head.

Reason one: he saw me and bolted.

Reason two: he got into an accident on the way here and he could be in the hospital.

Reason three: he changed his mind and decided to stand me up.

More and more played through my head as I sipped my drink. 

By the time I was on my second drink, I was convinced he wasn’t showing up. I knew this was a ridiculous idea. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I never should have listened to her.

I chugged the rest of my drink followed by some water before standing up to leave some cash. I was slightly humiliated for actually thinking this would be any different than all of my expectations.

My shoulder rammed into another as I turned to leave.

“Oh my, God, I’m so sorry!” A hand steadied me, gently grabbing the shoulder he ran into. “Are you okay?”

“My already small ego is a little bruised, but I think I’ll live.” I looked up to meet my assaulter’s eyes and immediately I froze.

Holy shit, it’s Chris Evans.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at me, his concern was directed towards me. In all of his charming, ray of sunshine, bearded glory, he was here.

“I’m so sorry that I’m late. Traffic was insane over the bridge. I would have called but I don’t have your number.” He half-smirked but not in a cocky way. I’d seen him do it in interviews before. He could have come up with a lame excuse, but somehow I knew he was telling the truth.

“No, it’s okay. I understand completely.”

He sighed in relief, his gorgeous and perfect smile taking over his features. He looked down at the table and it disappeared. “Were you leaving?”

“Uh,” I stammered, “I was because I thought I was being stood up.”

“I feel awful. Please let me make it up to you. Let’s sit down, have a nice dinner, and get to know each other.”

I hesitate, now even more nervous than I was before.

As if sensing my hesitation, he decided to sweeten the pot a bit to persuade me, “We can even get dessert.”

I chuckle at his attempt. That’ll do it though. I sit back down with him following suit, finally starting our date.

We talked about everything. Anything and everything. No topic was off limits. Hours went by but it felt like minutes. We didn’t even know how long we’d been there until our waiter came to tell us that the restaurant was closed. We left and walked around the city until the night sky was giving way to the morning. He accompanied me back to my car, gave me the best hug I’ve ever received and a kiss on the cheek, promising we’ll get together again soon, and opening and closing my car door for me. I drove away with the biggest smile on my face and literal butterflies in my stomach. That was the best date I’d ever been on.

When I made it back to my apartment with the early morning rays peeking through my shades, I had a text message waiting for me from him. Just a simple good night, he had had an amazing time, and he couldn’t wait to see me again.

I fell asleep, hopeful. Hopeful that I would see him again, that this could maybe go somewhere. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it was hard not to. I hadn’t felt this way in an exceptionally long time. I haven’t been on this good of a date in equally as long. I can’t wait to see him again…

                      Present day...

I finally pull into the parking lot after an hour stuck in traffic. My 12-hour day at work today has taken a lot out of me. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Thankfully though, my 2-week-long vacation starts tomorrow. After that, I have fourteen days of no working, no getting up at the ass crack of dawn to be able to drive in miserable traffic, no dealing with difficult or boring co-workers. Just fourteen days of rest and relaxation, after the wedding of course.

My best friend and her fiancé are getting married on Saturday. I’ve watched them go through all of their highs and lows throughout the last few years and when he came to me telling me he planned on proposing, I couldn’t have been happier for them. He even asked me to secretly photograph the moment for her. She was more than surprised about everything.

Now their wedding is here and everyone couldn’t be more excited to celebrate them.

Tomorrow is their rehearsal dinner. The wedding party and their plus ones are all invited.

I walk into my apartment, immediately relieving myself from the confines of my shoes. A heavenly scent registers to me and I’m carried all the way to the kitchen. I see my sexy boyfriend standing at the stove with his back towards me.

“Hey babe,” he calls without turning around.

I hum, happily making my way towards him. I wrap my arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his back. “What is that unbelievable smell?”

He chuckles, vibrating through his chest. “Your favorite, of course.”

I hum again, “You spoil me, baby.”

He chuckles again, turning in my arms. His handsome face finally came into view. His gorgeous brown eyes look into mine as I get lost in his. For the past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while. Since the day I met him, it was like everything fell into place. He’s sweet, ambitious, funny, kindhearted, passionate, and just overall the best man I had ever met. He makes me so happy…

Oh who am I kidding? He’s perfect. He is everything I ever wanted. If I made a list of all of the qualities I wanted in a husband, he would check off every single box.

But the feelings I have had for him over the last year are nothing compared to what I had in one night for him. I find myself wishing his eyes were bright blue instead of dark brown. I wish his arms were around me instead of the ones around me right now. The butterflies from that night have stayed dormant ever since.

I don’t know what happened after that night. I honestly thought we had a good time that night. Conversations flowed seamlessly. We made each other laugh so hard we had tears running down our faces. The physical connection was there- at first he had his arm around my shoulders as we walked around town, but as time went on he slowly moved lower around my waist, eventually intertwining our hands together until we arrived back at our cars. He even said that he wanted to see me again.

But I never heard from him again after that one text message. No call, no text, not even a message from my friend’s boyfriend. Nothing. I was disappointed beyond belief. I didn’t think he was that guy: the type to ditch someone without any explanation or goodbye. I thought I understood him to be a gentleman. Everything I had read about him pointed to him being one of the purest humans in the world. This was the opposite of all of that.

From that day on, I’ve loathed him. He gave me the perfect evening and then cut me off cold turkey from anything further. I have a three strike rule. His first: he was late. His second: he tricked me into liking him. His third: he lied to me. Three strikes and he’s out.

I have tried not to look back since. It’s not without its difficulties though since he’s literally everywhere. On magazine covers, in commercials, movie trailers, streaming services- he’s there. Why did he have to be such a successful actor? If he weren’t, it would make for forgetting him that much easier.

No closure. No answers. Nothing.

The rehearsal dinner went smoothly the next night which hopefully was foreshadowing for the big day itself. 

A majority of us were standing around about to start when the doors loudly being opened drew everyone’s attention away from our milling about. A man stood in the middle of the doorway then strode in like he owned the place. The closer he got, the more the details of his face came into focus.

No. Freaking. Way.

I look toward my best friend. She looked like she wasn’t shocked he was late, but she knew he was coming. I creep up behind her and clear my throat. Instantly she cringed.

“Did you forget to tell me something?” I whisper to her.

She sends me an apologetic smile, “Well, I actually put off telling you ‘cause I didn’t know how you would react and then I meant to tell you last night but with the whole ‘I’m getting married in two days’ buzz took over and now the rehearsal is here-”

“Just please tell me I’m not walking in with him.” I beg.

She chuckles nervously before she escaped to go greet him with her fiancé.

I turn to her sister who is also one of my closest friends. “Did you know he was going to be a groomsman?”

The guilt written in her face tells me everything I need to know. “She made me promise not to tell you.”

I groan, “The loyalty level around here is staggeringly low.”

I head over to where my boyfriend is standing and take comfort in his arms before I have to deal with the man who broke my heart.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little confused by my actions.

I nod, “Just tired from last night.” He chuckles at the mention of the night before, squeezing me into his chest.

“Alright everyone! Time to get started.” The wedding coordinator beckons us all to the back entrance of the barn standing next to our corresponding wedding party member. I stand right in front of the Maid of Honor and Best Man. I kept my eyes forward focusing on anything but the guy who took his place next to me.

“It’s good to see you,” He murmurs to me over the instructions of the coordinator.

I scoff and roll my eyes. He has the nerve to say that to me after two years of silence. I imagined a million times what it would be like to see him again. I’d imagined a lot of screaming with possible hitting. Or I thought about the ever-effective, old fashioned silent treatment. He doesn’t deserve to know that our one night out together effected me so much and I’ve carried a rather large torch for him ever since. At the very moment, it will be the latter, but there’s no telling what tonight and tomorrow will bring.

“Now ladies, rest- don’t grab- your hand near the crook of his arm. Men, keep your arm at that angle with an open hand resting on your stomach- no fist. And don’t forget to smile- this is a happy day!” As quickly as he showed up, the coordinator was on to the bride and her father before either of us could register he was there.

I begrudgingly did as I was instructed, “resting” my hand on his bare forearm, holding a stand-in bouquet for the occasion in my other hand.

“Are you not going to talk to me?” He speaks again but I ignore him once more.

Thankfully that was when it was our turn to walk down the aisle. For the rest of the rehearsal, he didn’t get a chance to say anything else. As soon as we were done, I go straight for my boyfriend. I figured there’s no way he would approach me if I were with another man.

We all head to the restaurant afterwards to celebrate the last night before our friends begin their lives together as husband and wife. I keep my distance from Chris, always sticking close with my boyfriend.

The one moment I was alone was when I went to the bathroom. I thought for the few minutes I wouldn’t be in danger.

However I was wrong.

As soon as I step out an arm shot out in front of me. A very pale muscular arm.

“Are you seriously going to ignore me for the next two days?”

I duck under his arm fully planning on continuing what I set out to do.

“Y/N,” he grabs my arm, “will you please talk to me? What did I do to make you so mad at me?”

I whip around hopefully sending daggers his way. “Are you serious right now?”

“She finally speaks!” He exclaims.

“Because I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Like, I don’t think I heard you right.” All of the feelings I’ve been burying for two years were making their way up to the surface and I don’t think I can stop them. “We had a fantastic night. It was literally the best night of my life, it was the most comfortable with a guy that I had ever been. You made me laugh, you gave me butterflies, you helped me feel for the first time in years.” I try to swallow down the lump that was forming in my throat. “You told me you wanted to see me again. You made me excited for the future for once in my life… and then you took it away.”

With every second that passed, his expression got closer and closer to utter defeat: his shoulders slumped, his grip on my arm loosened, his jaw slowly unclenched, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You were late,” I hold up one finger, “You tricked me,” two fingers,” “You lied to me.” Three fingers were up and in front of his face for emphasis. “Three strikes and you’re out.”

I back away from him, having nothing more I wanted to say. As soon as I turned the corner, I felt liberated… for about five seconds. When that passed, devastation hit. For the last two years, I’ve held out hope- I tried not to- but I did, that maybe someday something could happen between us. That maybe, just maybe, we could pick up where we left off that night.

Now that the moment of confrontation has come and gone, I feel all the hope fade away. All of those possibilities I pictured have left the building. Being with him is no longer an option. I have my boyfriend who makes me happy, who gives me everything I could possibly want.

The rest of the night went on without another incident. Chris kept his distance. However, I could feel his eyes on me for every second that passed as we sat at the table. It was a relief when we finally left and could retreat back to our hotel rooms for the night. The bride and I got to stay in a suite that we’ll all be getting ready in in the morning. They wanted to uphold the “not seeing each other the night before the wedding,” even though they’ve lived with each other for a year and a half now.

On the wedding day, everything went according to plan. Everyone was on time to hair and make-up, pictures went flawlessly, the weather cooperated with everything, Chris didn’t attempt to talk to me at all- it was a perfect day to watch two people who love each other commit to the other for the rest of their lives.

But then came the reception. That’s when I knew apparently all bets would be off. The ceremony was over. Niceties would wear off as more and more alcohol is consumed. I was not looking forward to it.

We make our ridiculous entrances and take our seats at the head table. We eat then speeches were made. Lots of laughs were had as the Best Man dished on stories he had with the groom growing up, a few tears were shed at her sister’s after recounting the moment the bride knew he was the man of her dreams- overall I’d say they were a success.

Again, I felt his eyes on me, burning holes in the side of my head from the other side of the groom for the entire dining portion of the evening. I kept myself from glancing in his direction, instead focusing on the conversations with the bride’s sister next to me and my boyfriend who is across the way- anything not to meet his eyes.

Finally the DJ announces it was time for all to convene on the dancefloor after the specialty dances. I immediately see my boyfriend start to stand, knowing he’d been ready for this all night. I’d been looking forward to dancing with him all night as well, I even removed my shoes in anticipation. As I stand up, a hand is held out in front of me. I knew whose hand it was. I remember staring at it as he would rub his lips on our date. The strength of it as it intertwined with mine as we walked down the streets of our town, the safeness I felt as he squeezed it if he detected I was getting anxious around a group of people and I needed the reassurance. I knew that hand well, unfortunately.

“Dance with me?” He nearly whispers in my ear. I didn’t realize he was that close until I could feel said whisper on my neck. I contain the shiver that runs down my spine at how husky his voice is. God I’ve missed that…

No! I will not be enchanted by him again. He does not deserve me.

I exhale the breath I was holding, it comes out a lot harsher than I expected. “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, but his hand gently grabs my arm stopping me from going any further.

He whispers again, “He’s not good enough for you,” before walking away.

I’m frozen in place. I glare at his retreating back as he makes his way over to the bar. My mouth hangs open in disbelief. How dare he… How fucking dare he assume anything about me or my relationship. He doesn’t know anything about what our relationship is like. My boyfriend treats me so well, spoils me even though I know I don’t deserve it. He listens to me, he cares about me, and he makes me laugh until I cry- he’s everything I’ve wanted in a man. Chris is the one who had his chance and subsequently blew it. He has no right to judge or even comment on my relationship when he knows absolutely nothing about it.

I hurriedly make my way to my awaiting boyfriend and pull him onto the crowded dancefloor. “You okay?” He asks me, “Did he say something to upset you?”

“Nothing worth repeating.” All I wanted to do was forget about him and his irrelevant feelings towards my relationship…

…Except I couldn’t. His words rattled me. Does he see something I don’t? He told me on our date that he’s an excellent judge of character so he wouldn’t say something like that unless he got a bad feeling, right? Either that or he said it just to get under my skin and force me to talk to him. No matter the reason I hate him for it because my pride won’t let it stand.

I spot him leaning against the bar, staring directly at the two of us over the rim of his glass. His perfect eyebrow quirks up at the eye contact, that sets my blood to boiling. He thinks he’s so smug. I wish I could just slap that stupid hidden smirk right off his perfect face…

Following a few dances, I mutter something about him going to dance with the bride to my boyfriend before exiting the dancefloor. I rush out of the barn, away from the crowd needing some air from his suffocating gaze. I find a little lit area that’s perfect for pictures. There are rectangular hay bales set together as a makeshift U-shaped bench with some low watt bulbs strung up above between two poles. It would be serene if I weren’t already on edge.

After taking a few deep breaths, I finally feel like I can speak without yelling. “You had no right.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know he followed me out here. It’s exactly what I wanted him to do, just like it was his intention to get under my skin. As much as I wished to avoid this conversation it seems that we can’t go on without it. We may tear each other apart in the process, but this is my chance for closure. This is my only opportunity to get the answers I’ve been needing to move on for the past two years. Two years of wondering what went wrong after the most perfect date I’ve ever been on with an equally perfect man has been eating at my heart and mind. I hated always wondering “what if” or “what would I be doing right now if I were with him” especially when I started dating my boyfriend. I had no answers as to why those questions could not be. I thought with time I’d stop asking them, thinking I’d never see the man again. He’s a big movie star, why would he wonder about a woman he went on one date with?

As I expected, his deep baritone voice comes behind me, but his words do little to ease my nerves. In fact they set them off even more so than before. “I’m sorry.”

I scoff at his half-hearted apology, knowing he doesn’t mean it at all. “Oh bite me, Christopher.” I turn around to face him. God he looks even better out here. The subtle gold glow from the lights are complimenting his skin tone, they make his baby blues shine which just frustrates me more.

“Please, Y/N,-” He takes a step closer to me, but I won’t have that. 

“No,” I take a step back keeping the needed distance between us for fear I may strangle him. “I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses. You had no right to pass judgment on a relationship that you know absolutely nothing about.”

He slips his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Oh, I’ve seen enough.”

“Really?” I jut my hip out, resting my hand on it. “In the two days you’ve been here, you think you’ve got us all figured out?”

“Yes,” he answers with conviction. 

My shaking hands clench into fists, trying my damnedest not to lose control. I entangle them into my hair as best as I can without ruining the work the hairstylist did this morning before running them down my face. He has some nerve. 

“We had one night. One night! One nearly perfect night together and suddenly that makes you an expert on what is good for me?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘an expert’-”

“I wouldn’t say anything!” I interrupt, “I never heard from you again. Now after two years, you come in here acting like you know anything about me or my relationship? Who do you think you are?”

“A man who made a mistake!” He snaps.

There was a long pause. I never expected to hear that from him. All these years I wanted to think the worst of him for leaving me hanging like that. He got my hopes up, thinking we may have a future together only for them to come crashing back down to Earth when he never contacted me again. I wondered and wondered if maybe I read the signals wrong. Maybe I took his flirting as more than it was. Maybe the small gestures like his arm around my shoulders, on the small of my back, or the hand holding were only him being friendly. I wracked my brain going over every single detail of the night to try and pinpoint a reason for him not to have called me afterwards. I found nothing, which was equally as frustrating.

“Alright, I made a mistake.” He moves to sit on one of the hay bales. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, letting out a huge sigh. “God I wanted everything with you.”

Once again, I’m frozen by his words. He what? But that doesn’t make sense. His words and his actions don’t line up- how could that be?

He removes his hands from his face, staring at the grass. “After that night, I wanted it all. I wanted to settle down, get the house with a white picket fence in the suburbs, carry you through the threshold after our wedding day, bring our children home from the hospital, watch them grow until we’re old and gray. I wanted everything.”

My heart aches. All of that was exactly what I wanted, especially with him. I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, my heart breaking mourning the loss of what we could have had by now if he had only said something.

I also find my anger growing as well. If he felt all of that, why did he not contact me again? Why did he give me hope that our night out together could have been the start of something good and then taken it away just as quickly?

“But?” There had to be a “but” coming after his statement. Clearly something stopped him from pursuing the possibility of “us,” destroying any future we could have had.

He sighs, “but…” he finally looks up at me with more emotion in his eyes than I was expecting. There was contemplation, confusion, honesty, agony…

I look away. In an instant I knew what he was about to say. It makes complete sense. He was at the height of his career, shooting movie after movie all around the world for a majority of the year. How would he have had time to have a relationship mixed in with that? He couldn’t.

“Your career was more important,” I interject, “I get it. I do.” I couldn’t fault him for choosing work over someone he just met, no matter how much he claims to have liked me right off the bat. He was going to be busy. We probably wouldn’t have had a lot of time to see each other. It’s not like I could give up my career to follow him. Besides even if I could have, he wouldn’t want that. He said so himself. He wanted someone who was independent; who could do their own thing and not be enveloped in his crazy life.

He stands up and steps closer to me, “no, that wasn’t it. I promise you that wasn’t it.”

There’s that word. Promise. He promised we’d see each other again soon after our night together. But he broke that.

“Then what was it?” My voice cracks at the end. I can feel my reserves slipping the more he speaks. I didn’t realize how much I missed his voice until now. I haven’t seen any of the movies he’s been in the last few years. I have him and his hashtag blocked on all social media platforms so I don’t see anything of his on any of my timelines. My other friends think I don’t like him (only my best friend and her now husband know about our date). To hear it again brings back all of the good memories we made together in that short night and all of the emotions I’ve been holding back since. “I have been wracking my brain for years wondering what went wrong after that.”

“I got scared,” he finally admits the truth. “I got scared of how much I liked you and how much I wanted to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me,” he casts his gaze down at his hands as he fidgets with them, “and my life. I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos that is my life. I know what my fans would do to you if we were in a relationship, I was trying to protect you from all of the ugly that being with me comes with.”

So that’s what he was afraid of? He was afraid our relationship would inevitably end exactly like his last one? His “fans” were horrible to her. They sent death threats to her and her family members, always commenting negatively on her social media pages all because she was dating him. I remember reading about it right after it happened. I knew that side of his fandom was toxic. But did I care? No. Did I think I couldn’t handle it? I honestly don’t know, but would I have been willing to deal with it for him? Yes. I would have given up anything to be with him. That’s precisely why he did what he did. He didn’t want me giving anything up for him because he knows I’d be giving up any semblance of privacy I had if I were in a public relationship with him.

If I had known these were the reasons why he ghosted me, I would have been broken hearted but I would have understood. Hell, I probably would have fallen more in love with him if I knew that, not fallen in loathe.

He continues, “I thought that if I never contacted you again, you could move on”- he clears his throat-“and find someone better than me who could give you the normal life you deserve. Which as much as I wish I couldn’t, I see that you have…” he pauses as if deciding whether he should keep speaking. When I don’t stop him, he does, “But I can’t help feeling like that could have been me.”

My slightly shaky hands cover his fidgeting ones. His hand moves until he’s intertwining our fingers together, palms touching. They fit perfectly together as if they were each other’s missing puzzle piece. His thumbs stroke mine sending warmth down my arms all the way down to my toes. The sparks I felt back then return with full force. He leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. My heart is beating out of my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t feel it in some way.

I feel my heart break in my chest. My lip quivers and the tears threaten to make themselves known. My only saving grace is the fact that he can’t see my face. I may lose it completely if he did.

His breath is coming out equally as shaky between us, he squeezes my hands as if he doesn’t want me to let go. Believe me, I don’t want to. I bring one of our interlocked hands up to my lips. I kiss the back of his hand because I can’t kiss him where I want to. I pull back just enough to see his beautiful baby blues that could have any woman in the world swoon. They were terribly bloodshot right now but that only made them more tragically breathtaking. I tear one of my hands out of his and bring it to his cheek. He leans into it, a tear drops into the crevices between the contact.

The barely above whisper that came out was all I could muster without having a total breakdown because he’s right. It could have been him. We could have been something great. We could have built a life together. We could have had it all. And it broke my heart into a million pieces knowing all of this could have been avoided if life had handed both of us different lives.

“It almost was.”

~*~

Taglist: @the-marvel-wars​ @elusive-beauty​ @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent​ @fantasy-is-my-reality​ @princess-evans-addict​

[krreader]

seven sins | chapter nine.

pairing: bts x reader ; kim namjoon x reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; historical!au ; princes!bts ; concubine!reader ; sex ; impregnation kink (they all have that at this point lol) genre: smut ; fluff ; angst word count: 2.4k+ previous: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8

summary: even in times such as yours, you still led a privileged life with nothing to ask for. that is until first your father, then your mother died and you were left to care for your two younger sisters. the position for royal physician seemed to be open and with your father having been a general and your mother having been a maid for the queen, you thought you might be able to get it.. little did you know that your visit to the palace would put a completely different offer on the table.

a/n: it’s getting teeeeeense here!

The secret you've been trying to hide from the queen so desperately, exposed by one of the princes and so... casually. You were staring at Namjoon with shock and that seemed to amuse him more than anything.

“Don't worry. I won't tell, I know you've been taking them so that my big brother can be the one to impregnate you,” Namjoon said and you instantly let out a sigh of relief, that you quickly hid by gulping down. That wasn't at all what you were taking it for, but you'd rather have him believe this than know the truth, “And I think it's good, it let’s my brothers have their share and feel special.”

“But then why even bring this up?”

“It's not common knowledge that these herbs prevent pregnancies. I only know about it because I've buried my nose in books all my life. So that makes me wonder... how do you know?”

Would this be your chance to finally tell him about it? The fact that you were not actually a concubine, but a physician? Would this finally be over? But if you told him the truth, what would happen? What if he didn’t like it and then, if worse came to worse, killed you for treason? 

You knew your time was running out and you had to finally come clean... to somebody. But would Namjoon really be the right choice?

“Well... my mother and father, they...-

But without knocking, someone slid open the door and your instincts kicked in, too afraid that whoever this was had heard what you had said and would then force you to go on.

This wasn’t something the wrong person should hear. 

So you grabbed Namjoon's shirt and pulled him towards you, kissing him deeply.

“Oh.. I'm... sorry,” another physician instantly bowed a few times, but Namjoon was already gone, immediately kissing you back.

False alarm, but by the time she was gone, you realized that you had already pushed Namjoon over the edge, his eyes full of lust. 

Not really what you had in mind....

“We'll have this discussion later... promise me,” he whispered against your lips and you nodded, but inside, you shook your head.

He wasn’t the right one for this. Prince Namjoon was the smartest of the princes, but he was also one of the most intimidating ones. You had such a heard time reading him, no idea how he would react to the news once he heard it.

So, it was still only prince Seokjin or the king himself.

You knew you could use his lust to your advantage and make him forget about what you had just said for now, pulled him between your legs on the mattress that was on the floor and grinned.

There wasn't much foreplay involved, despite you having thought that he'd be one of the few that would actually like it, but maybe he was just too excited now, because when he pulled down his pants, his dick immediately sprang up.

“Are you sure?” still, stuff like this made you happy. He probably meant because of what happened earlier with the queen, but you felt safe with him now, when he didn’t know your secrets.

Namjoon still leaned down and kissed you, a lot more gentle than what you had expected. His dick was sliding through your folds, entering you effortlessly within minutes because of how wet you got.

But then again... this man looked like a god on top of you. Who could blame you for that?

“How hard do you want me to go?” he whispered against your lips, only moving ever so slightly on top of you.

“You're the prince,” you brushed your hand through his hair, the other you grabbed his butt with, “Take me in whatever way you want.”

In a different situation he maybe would have taken his time, but Namjoon was so ready to do just that, that he got up on his knees and pushed your legs back, beginning to fuck you mercilessly.

The duality. 

His eyes never left yours though, if he had seen just a slight flicker of discomfort, he would have stopped.

All he could see, however, was you biting down on your lip, trying not to scream from pleasure when he pushed your legs further back and hit the spot inside you, that made you see stars.

So that was a good sign.

He let go of your legs, only so that he could lean down and whisper in your ear once more.

“These herbs are great, you know?” he chuckled, his next thrust so deep that you did scream, “But I read that they don't always work...”

You were breathing heavily when he looked at you, confusion written all over your face.

“I can't help but wonder.. what it would be like.. to see you carrying my child.”

You didn't know what kind of books he read, but that was the moment that you realized that you indeed were smarter than him. Thankfully. 

You grinned, “Why don't you try?”

Namjoon licked his lips and immediately pulled out, turning you around and then your ass towards him, so that you were now on all fours.

He fucked you from behind, as hard as before, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips.

Despite you knowing that his plan would fail, you didn't complain, not when he once again found that spot within you that made you scream unintentionally. 

And to your surprise, when you screamed your final scream, so did Namjoon. He timed it perfectly and spilled himself inside you, filled you to the brim just like he wanted to. And he really made sure that not a single drip of his seed left your body. 

Once he was convinced, he gently pushed your upper body down and pulled out of you.

“Stay like this for a few minutes. You'll be with my child soon, beautiful.”

Damn, you really needed to become the royal physician... who the heck told him that this would work?

“Of course, my prince,” you said nevertheless, needing to get on the prince’s good side no matter what. 

The king was having dinner with his family later that night, pushing his food around on his plate, before finally looking up at his sons, more specifically at Hoseok, “I heard your concubine gave birth to a girl. Why not a boy?”

“His seed just isn't good quality,” Namjoon joked, making Hoseok get up and ready to fight him, but Jimin instantly pulled his big brother back down.

“What about you, then? Heard you fucked our favorite concubine today? One of the guards said you wanted to get her pregnant.”

That made the room turn quiet instantly, the king narrowing his eyes at Namjoon, “(Y/N)?”

Namjoon became smaller and smaller, but then he said: “Yoongi hyung, Jimin and Taehyung tried too!”

“Hey!” all three of them instantly started arguing that that was not true, in the meantime, Seokjin was sitting at the other end of the table, looking miserable as he forced himself to eat.

The king noticed, but didn't say anything for now. He let his boys argue this out and then disappeared relatively soon, only to ask for his oldest son in his chambers later on.

“You wanted to see me, father?” Seokjin bowed, then knelt down before his father.

“Am I under the right impression that all six of your brothers have had their share with this concubine (Y/N)... all but you?”

Seokjin lowered his head, but then he nodded, “I wanted them to spend time with her first. Since I'm going to be... you know.”

“The father of the future heir that she will have.”

Ah, great. All his responsibilities summed up in one sentence.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“Well, all six of them have had their fun. Now it's time for you to do your duties. I've arranged for her to come to your room tonight. I want you to finally do what you're supposed to do and give this kingdom a prince that will eventually become king.”

“Tonight?” Seokjin stuttered, “But... but Namjoon and her, they..-”

“Tonight, Seokjin. Every day you waste is another day less that this kingdom has a new heir.”

“But father, I don't think that we should..-”

“You dare to talk back to me?” with the way his voice got louder, Seokjin immediately flinched and shook his head, getting up and bowing a few times, way too afraid of his father to say anything else that would undermine his authority.

“I will do what is required of me. I promise you.”

But the moment he was out in the hallway, he felt like crying.

[asthmark]

❝ chemistry ❞ o.st

synopsis → osaki shotaro moving to town means trips to the dance studio, boba dates, and the perpetual teasing of lee donghyuck. 

pairing → shotaro, reader

requested? → yes! based off @onlyjihoons​​’s shipping game answer ♡

word count → 5.5k (this was supposed to be 1k.... goodbye.)

a/n → i enjoy writing texting scenes WAY too much ;; tbh this is like 50% texts im cryign but i had to convey how much i love 00 line .... and also how firmly i believe in lee donghyuck devil supremacy. as always, feedback is greatly appreciated and enjoy! 

+

if someone were to ask you how you felt about your friends, you would without any hesitation, answer that you loved them to death. of course, if you were being completely honest, you would also have to add that you experienced the urge to strangle them from time to time. that might earn you a couple odd stares but you’re sure people would be more understanding if they knew who was in your inner circle to begin with.

for starters, there was lee jeno — tall, handsome, and the textbook definition of a gentleman. then, na jaemin, who you would consider to be the yin to jeno’s yang. an extremely energetic guy and, in your book, a total freak of nature ever since you found out that he inhales four shots of espresso on the daily. liu yangyang was a more recent addition to your group but, being as quick-witted as he was, he quickly fit right in. he also had a habit of going on somewhat aggressive rants in german which renjun found to be extremely amusing. speaking of, huang renjun was another one of your close friends — the shortest of the group, actually. (and, much to renjun’s dismay, that’s exactly how donghyuck liked to introduce him to people.) he was the type of guy you could trust to keep everyone in check which consequently made you mildly terrified of him.

however, it could never compare to the perpetual fear you have of lee donghyuck. 

of course, you love him to pieces but sometimes you really wish he didn’t find so much joy in, well, making everyone miserable. you couldn’t deny it was funny to watch him tease and taunt your other friends. you still remember him purposefully messing up renjun’s game at the local arcade just when he was about to reach his high score — and also the way renjun had tackled him to the floor right then and there, resulting in the six of you being banned from the place. or, that time he offered to pay for everyone’s starbucks orders only to tell the barista that jaemin’s name was ben dover. (to no one’s surprise, yangyang had found that joke particularly hilarious.) you can also clearly recall how hard you had laughed in both of those situations.

but, donghyuck never let anyone laugh for too long.

according to him it was ’only fair’ to make sure each of his friends was at the receiving end of his gags. so, despite laughing at his latest victim’s expense, each of you knew that donghyuck would make sure you were in the same position sooner or later.

you definitely weren’t expecting it to be your turn one dull friday evening.

things are going slow for you as you sit at your desk, typing away on your laptop. school has been out for hours and your professors have decided to be saints and leave you little homework for the weekend. beside you, your phone dings, alerting you of the new text message in your group chat.

[4:23 pm] hyuck: i’m bored 🥺

[4:23 pm] you: plz never use that emoji again

[4:24 pm] nana: it’s misleading dude

[4:25 pm] yangx2: yeah like when have u ever made a face that isn’t this 😈

[4:25 pm] renjun: donghyuck is the devil = confirmed

[4:25 pm] nana: CALLED IT

[4:26 pm] hyuck: u guys are literally so evil

jeno laughed at “u guys are literally so evil”

[4:27 pm] jeno: look who’s talking lol

[4:27 pm] you: dangg u know it’s bad when lee jeno disses u

[4:28 pm] jeno: ...ngl it kinda feels like ur shading me rn

[4:28 pm] you: u would be correct :)

[4:29 pm] hyuck: um HELLO can u guys go back to paying attention to me???

[4:29 pm] renjun: what do u want, diva?

[4:29 pm] hyuck: i just wanna spend some quality time with my best friends ;(

renjun disliked “i just wanna spend some quality time with my best friends ;(”

yangx2 disliked “i just wanna spend some quality time with my best friends ;(”

you disliked “i just wanna spend some quality time with my best friends ;(”

nana disliked “i just wanna spend some quality time with my best friends ;(”

jeno disliked “i just wanna spend some quality time with my best friends ;(”

[4:30 pm] hyuck: OH COME ON

[4:30 pm] yangx2: i think what u meant to say is that u wanna make one of us very miserable today, right?

[4:30 pm] hyuck: .....no comment

nana renamed the group chat “hyuck hate club”

[4:31 pm] hyuck: ok i’m honestly feeling so attacked right now

[4:31 pm] jeno: well now u know what it’s like to be friends with u

[4:31 pm] you: so true king omg ur on a roll

[4:32 pm] hyuck: hmm okay so either jeno or y/n is gonna be today’s target, got it

[4:32 pm] hyuck: anyway can u guys come down to the dance studio now??

[4:32 pm] you: what makes u think i would go anywhere near u when i know ur plotting ur revenge on me as we speak

[4:32 pm] hyuck: because maybe i’ll have mercy on u and just terrorize jeno instead

[4:33 pm] you: good enough for me! thnx bestie, see u soon!!

[4:33 pm] jeno: HEY

nana laughed at “good enough for me! thnx bestie, see u soon!!”

[4:34 pm] yangx2: u literally cannot trust anyone in this friend group

[4:34 pm] renjun: ikr isn’t it great???

you might have been slightly out of your mind to willingly go see donghyuck knowing you had teased him in your group chat earlier. although, if there was a slight chance he would show you mercy if you did hang out with him, you were going to take it.

the studio was where you had first met donghyuck, along with the rest of your friends due to the dance classes you attended. after bumping into each in between classes and during practice, you began to get well acquainted. turns out, the six of you actually got along incredibly well and after a while, you began to share routines and tips, even choreographing together from time to time. obviously, this led to the infamous group chat being formed and lots of time spent outside the studio as well.

but, none of you had lost that love for dancing. in fact, forming your little clique had only made it grow. as you opened the front doors of the building you had made so many memories in, you wondered if donghyuck wanted your insight on a certain routine or needed some help choreographing. of course, there was also the possibility that he really was just bored and wanted you to suffer with him.

what you did not expect, however, was to see him caught up in conversation with another person. you couldn’t clearly see them with donghyuck in the way; all you knew for certain was that your best friend’s mouth was moving a mile a minute. you tentatively tiptoe into the room, hoping to not intrude on their discussion. but, at hearing the doors creak open, donghyuck puts his rant on pause to enthusiastically wave you over.

you sigh, putting your belongings down and approaching the pair. as you near, you notice that hyuck has a huge smile — no, smirk — on his face. you internally curse yourself for believing that he would ever pass up an opportunity to torment you, especially in front of a stranger.

“this is a very dear friend of mine,” you hear him introduce to his acquaintance. “her name is y/n. she dances, too.”

“oh, that’s really cool!”

the stranger’s unusually cheery tone prompts you to finally peek behind donghyuck and put a face to the voice.

and what a face he has.

“this is shotaro,” donghyuck informs you. “he’s new to town and quite the dancer. caught him in the middle of a routine.”

your knees almost wobble as you take in the stranger — shotaro’s — kind eyes that almost sparkle. (you aren’t sure if it’s because of the fluorescent lights of the studio or just part of his charm.) his lips are curved up into a friendly smile that makes you feel slightly giddy. his hair falls into his face almost perfectly, not a strand out of place and you’re uncertain as to how that’s even possible since, as donghyuck had said, he was dancing. not to mention, there’s not a bead of sweat on his face. did this guy come straight out of a disney movie or something?

“excuse her,” donghyuck chuckles. “good looking people tend to make her freeze up. don’t worry, this happened when she met me, too.”

you offer your friend a glare and an elbow to the side and you swear you hear shotaro chuckle. you turn to him instead, putting on a welcoming smile.

“my bad, i just—”

“got lost in his eyes?”

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “donghyuck, please don’t make me have to attack you in front of our guest.”

more giggles escape shotaro. (you swear it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever heard.) you curiously tilt your head at him.

“sorry, it’s just that, you guys are too funny,” he admits with a sheepish smile.

you mirror his grin, slightly relieved he was amused instead of weirded out. “yeah, well, just wait ’til you meet the rest of us. it’s like a circus show, you’ll love it.”

“hello, clowns!”

“speak of the devil,” donghyuck murmurs, watching as yangyang and renjun enter, followed by jeno and jaemin.

“woah, who’s the cutie?” yangyang asks renjun, in what you presume he thinks is a whisper. however, yangyang has never spoken quietly a day in his life. renjun simply shrugs at his question.

having clearly heard the compliment, a faint blush creeps onto shotaro’s cheeks.

“guys, this is shotaro,” donghyuck answers, tugging the sandy blonde forward.

he gives a somewhat shy wave. “hi, y/n’s friends.”

jaemin erupts into laughter. “uh oh, looks like he likes y/n more than hyuck.”

“don’t blame him,” jeno mutters.

shotaro’s forehead creases, face suddenly twisted in worry. “oh, i’m sorry, was i not supposed to say that?”

“oh no, don’t worry,” donghyuck denies, quickly. “i’m sure y/n doesn’t mind at all, right?”

if you could crawl into a hole to avoid the embarrassment, you would. of course, donghyuck was 100% right; you really didn’t mind shotaro calling the group that if it meant you could hear him say your name over and over again. in fact, his sweet voice could probably make the dictionary sound like the most addictive song. but, donghyuck had no right putting you on the spot like that.

jeno suddenly speaks, catching on to your flustered state and donghyuck’s evil grin. “so, it’s y/n’s turn today? sweet, i’m off the hook!”

shotaro furrows his brows slightly. “huh?”

“oh, it’s just an inside joke,” jeno says, smile reaching all the way up to his eyes.

you wish you could strangle him right then and there for finding amusement at your expense but the last thing you want is for shotaro to think you’re some sort of psychopath. (although, with a friend group like this, you’re definitely beginning to think that’s where you’re headed.)

“got it,” shotaro responds, breaking out into a grin himself. “you guys seem like a really close bunch!”

“the closest,” donghyuck corrects, overly sweet, as he wraps an arm around you. (you resist the urge to shove him off.) “you’ll fit right in!”

+

you believed that the torture was over the day donghyuck introduced shotaro to your group. you would probably just see him from time to time and the studio (hopefully without hyuck around) and it would all be downhill from there, right? the latest notification on your phone alerts you that you are absolutely wrong.

hyuck has added one (1) user to the group chat

[1:05 pm] hyuck: welcome shotaro!!

[1:06 pm] unknown: oh hey guys! :]

the emoticon almost makes your heart beat right out of your chest. you roll your eyes in frustration at how easily affected you were by this guy. seriously, why did everything he do have to be so cute? regardless, you quickly add his number to your contacts.

[1:06 pm] hyuck: why don’t we do a little roll call so shotaro can save ur numbers to his phone

[1:07 pm] yangx2: YANGYANG

[1:07 pm] yangx2: HA I WAS FIRST

[1:07 pm] jeno: ...

[1:08 pm] jeno: anyway this is jeno :)

[1:08 pm] nana: jaemin present!

[1:08 pm] renjun: hi shotaro, this is renjun

[1:10 pm] shotaro: haha cool thanks a lot, i just saved all ur numbers!

[1:10 pm] shotaro: but quick question, is y/n in this group chat? :0

you almost drop your phone at reading shotaro’s message although you’re unsure why. he just typed your name, get it together, you urge yourself.

[1:11 pm] you: heyy shotaro! i’m right here :)

[1:11 pm] shotaro: oh yayy! i’m so glad ^^

hyuck disliked “oh yayy! i’m so glad ^^”

[1:12 pm] hyuck: shotaro plz return my love what does she have that i don’t T-T

[1:12 pm] nana: a heart

[1:12 pm] yangx2: a brain

[1:12 pm] jeno: a conscience

[1:12 pm] renjun: a functioning moral compass

[1:13 pm] hyuck: wtf

[1:13 pm] shotaro: ahahaha it’s like i’m watching a comedy

[1:14 pm] you: told u it’s a circus

[1:14 pm] you: i say get out while u still can

[1:14 pm] shotaro: whaatt and leave u behind? no way!

nana renamed the group chat “shotaro x y/n supremacists”

[1:15 pm] jeno: my thoughts exactly

[1:15 pm] renjun: took the words right out of my mouth

you cringe at your friends’ blunt behavior, praying shotaro didn’t find their antics to be too strange.

[1:16 pm] shotaro: 😳

[1:16 pm] nana: aww someone’s shy

[1:17 pm] renjun: he wouldn’t last a day in itzy

[1:17 pm] yangx2: HELPP

you shake your head, laughing silently to yourself as you mute the group chat and place your phone back down. although, moments later, you receive a direct message. you presume it’s one of the boys trying to rope you back into the chat but the moment you see the contact name, you’re forced to do a double take.

[1:21 pm] shotaro: i hope i’m not bothering u but i just wanted to make sure ur okay .. you kinda went quiet in the gc :>

[1:21 pm] shotaro: it’s shotaro from the dance studio btw!

you can’t help but find the fact that he seriously thought you wouldn’t remember him adorable. how could you ever forget a face like his?

[1:22 pm] you: that’s so kind! i’m okay, i promise. i’ve just had to put up with those dorks for way too long, sometimes i just ignore them haha

[1:22 pm] shotaro: lol yeah they do seem like a handful! but i look forward to getting to know them better!!

[1:23 pm] shotaro: and u too ofc~~

it takes all your willpower not to spam dozens of heart emojis in an attempt to show shotaro just how he has reduced you to a lovesick fool. instead, your response is short and sweet.

[1:23 pm] you: right back at u, taro! ♡

+

“okay, take five,” donghyuck pants, pausing the music blaring from the speakers.

you gladly obey, wiping away the light sweat you had worked up from the latest routine you and hyuck were constructing.

you both belonged to the same dance class and frequently paired together for partnered projects. the rest of your friends attended different classes, which you constantly joked was for the best since there was no way one dance instructor could possibly handle the six of you together.

“how do you feel?” donghyuck asks you, running a hand through his tousled hair.

“the choreo’s great, i’m proud of what we got so far,” you reply. “of course, i would be happier if i didn’t have to get so up close and personal with you.”

donghyuck scoffs at your joke. “i can’t do anything about that. the teacher said the whole concept of the routine is supposed to be is intimate.”

you fake a gag, failing to contain a laugh when hyuck playfully shoves you in offense.

“i’m sorry i can’t be shotaro,” he adds, a smirk forming on his lips.

you roll your eyes. “oh, very funny.”

“c’mon, you’re acting like you wouldn’t kill to have him as your partner, especially with choreo as spicy as this.”

“well, it would beat being paired with you,” you remark, picking up your water bottle and taking a swig.

“hm, then looks like today might be your lucky day,” donghyuck replies, eyes trained somewhere behind you.

you follow his gaze, nearly choking on your water as soon as you catch sight of shotaro entering the studio. he meets your eyes, plucking out his earbuds and offering you a small wave.

“oh, hey guys!” he exclaims, cheerfully.

“hey ’taro,” you greet, rather quickly, earning you a knowing glance from your partner.

“’taro?” hyuck repeats, amused, as he folds his arms over his chest. “you guys are already on cute nickname basis?”

shotaro giggles, eyes squinting adorably as he does so. “it is a pretty adorable nickname, right? she’s the only one who calls me that!”

your heart beats faster when you see how oddly excited that seems to make him. did he somehow find it endearing?

“seems like the two of you are becoming quite close, hm?” continues hyuck.

shotaro nods enthusiastically before glancing at you tentatively, as if to check for confirmation.

“yeah, you could say that.”

your agreement causes yet another smile to grace shotaro’s lips — this time he seems relieved. you briefly wonder if the kid ever stops flashing those pearly whites of his. you certainly hope so, or else your heart may never catch a break.  

“well, since you’re comfortable enough with each other,” donghyuck begins, flashing you a grin.

you’re not even sure what he’s gonna say but you already feel the need to put an end to it. after all, nothing good has ever come of donghyuck’s mischievous grins. you subtly purse your lips and narrow your eyes in an attempt to get him to stop whatever chaos he’s planning to ensue.

nevertheless, he proceeds. “maybe you could help me out with this choreography?”

you want to facepalm at donghyuck’s lame excuse of a lie. however, on the other hand, shotaro’s face lights up in delight.

“you’re working on choreo? what for?” he inquires, curiously.

“for our dance class,” hyuck explains, motioning towards you. “i have a couple ideas so i was thinking you two could maybe try out some steps i’m planning to include. you know, to help me... visualize.”

“that sounds awesome,” shotaro responds, oblivious to your friend’s untruths. “i would love to help you guys out.”

“great!” donghyuck claps his hands together. “just a heads up, the theme of the routine is intimacy, so i wanna see all that charm of yours, shotaro. it’ll, uh, help me choreograph.”

you cringe at the obvious fib. meanwhile, it’s as if a switch has gone off in shotaro’s mind. his smile fades and his eyebrows knit together. “hold on, i-intimacy? does that mean—”

“that you’ll have to get a bit touchy-feely with her? yeah,” donghyuck interjects, innocently.

“y’know... i’ve really been wanting to dance with her.” he faces you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “just never thought it would be like this.”

you offer him an apologetic smile. “i know, it might be a bit... uncomfortable. you can back out if you’d like. i promise hyuck and i won’t mind.”

shotaro’s head shakes, vigorously. “no, of course not!” he must realize how quick he was to deny your offer, making him suspiciously eager to be close to you as he immediately adds, “i mean, it’s good practice.”

you suppress a giggle. “sure thing. hyuck, should we get started now?”

the boy in question dramatically picks at his nails, acting as if he had been waiting on you both for hours. “if you guys are done flirting, then, yeah.”

you roll your eyes, shooting shotaro a mildly annoyed stare. he grins, finding it to be equally amusing as it is endearing. (what can he say, the faint pout that appeared on your face was cute.)

“shotaro, how about you get in position right behind her.”

shotaro obeys, making sure to leave a significant amount of space between the two of you. however, donghyuck doesn’t seem to approve.

“closer!” he commands. “the concept is intimacy, not social distancing!”

shotaro shuffles forward, pressing his front into your back. you can’t help but notice how firmly toned his chest is. curse his dancers body, you think.

“okay, now, lemme see your hands on her waist!”

you feel the breath of shotaro’s shaky exhale on the back of your neck as he obeys, sliding apprehensive hands around your midsection. there’s silence on donghyuck’s end and through the mirror you watch him observe the two of you, no doubt acting way more pensive than he truly is. you know he’s just prolonging your flustered state by keeping you in this intimate position with the younger boy.

although, shotaro himself might know it too, considering the fact that he begins to rub comforting circles into your sides that he’s currently gripping, as per donghyuck’s request, in an attempt to calm you down. you nearly melt right then and there. at the same time, you hope he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

donghyuck calls out your name, successfully startling you and putting an end to the peaceful atmosphere. “why don’t you go ahead and lean on his shoulder. just lay your head back nice and easy— good, very good! look at that chemistry!”

if you’re being sincere, reclining on shotaro feels way more natural and enjoyable than it should. he steadily holds you in place, almost as if he secretly wishes to never let go. you wouldn’t be completely opposed to the idea either.

“alright, last thing, guys! y/n, how about you hook your arm around shotaro’s neck?”

you do so, fingers brushing softly against his jaw. he shivers beneath your touch, erupting into giggles when you shoot him an odd stare.

“i’m ticklish,” he confesses, in a whisper.

you can’t help but smile widely. “is that so? hm, i might have to exploit that information sooner or later.”

“as long as donghyuck doesn’t find out,” he replies.

his comment certainly gets a chuckle out of you. “did you finally realize how evil he is?”

“if the torture he’s putting you through right now is anything to go by, then absolutely.”

“only a matter of time before it’s your turn,” you reply. you lean into his ear to add, “by the way, this is anything but torture for me.”

“hey! no whispering!” donghyuck reprimands.

for the first time, shotaro goes against the older boy’s orders to whisper back, “it’s mutual. if anything, i think this is the best thing i’ve done since i moved here.”

your heart melts at the sincere admission. you stare at shotaro in what you’re sure is a very obvious case of heart eyes. you’re taken aback to find that he, too, returns the lovesick look. perhaps he was immersing himself a bit too much in the intimacy concept...

“stop! pause! cut!”

you and shotaro (reluctantly) untangle yourselves from each other to face a seemingly unhappy donghyuck.

“can you guys please just focus on my instructions without falling in love with each other?” he pleads. “i mean, you haven’t even gotten out of the starting position yet.” he groans, exasperated. “actually, you know what, just take five.”

+

[2:03 pm] hyuck: good morning

[2:03 pm] nana: it’s 2 o clock in the afternoon but ok

[2:03 pm] hyuck: i just woke up, therefore it’s morning

[2:03 pm] shotaro: good morning :3 did u sleep well?

[2:04 pm] hyuck: i slept a wonderful 27 hours, thnx for asking!

[2:04 pm] yangx2: ?????? THERES NOT EVEN 27 HOURS IN A DAY IM SCREAMING

[2:04 pm] you: LOLLL WHY WAS HE HIBERNATING

[2:05 pm] renjun: i was just gonna ignore him but i am genuinely concerned now

[2:05 pm] shotaro: woww,, well at least you’re well rested now! :]

[2:04 pm] nana: shotaro, i am begging u not to encourage him

[2:04 pm] you: all it takes is one (1) supportive person and he becomes an unstoppable force of evil

[2:04 pm] shotaro: o_0

[2:05 pm] jeno: besides ur like the only other person here with common sense besides myself and maybe renjun. i can’t lose u to donghyuck :(

[2:05 pm] renjun: ykw i’m not even gonna argue with that

[2:05 pm] yangx2: yeah shotaro is a good guy™

[2:06 pm] hyuck: i hate u guys and ur goldfish attention spans

[2:06 pm] you: sigh what do you need hyuck?

[2:06 pm] hyuck: i want boba :(

[2:07 pm] you: that actually sounds really good but idk if it’s worth being around u

[2:07 pm] hyuck: i’ll pretend like u didn’t just say that <3 what if i paid?

[2:07 pm] you: ....

[2:08 pm] yangx2: LMAO HYUCK BEING NICE IS SUSPICIOUS BEHAVIOR

[2:08 pm] renjun: ikr it’s making me super uncomfortable rn

[2:08 pm] hyuck: can’t i do something nice for my friends? :/

[2:08 pm] jeno: no

[2:09 pm] nana: nope

[2:09 pm] yangx2: nah

[2:09 pm] renjun: absolutely not

[2:09 pm] you: never seen it happen before so no

[2:10 pm] hyuck: u guys are so fake :( shotaro do u wanna hang out with me? if u say no i’ll scream :)

[2:11 pm] shotaro: yeah i guess i could :]

[2:11 pm] renjun: oh this just got interesting.. i guess i could tag along

[2:11 pm] yangx2: me too, i gotta be there to record whatever happens

[2:12 pm] nana: i’m in

[2:12 pm] jeno: same

[2:12 pm] you: hhhhh okay fine.. only to ensure taro’s safety

[2:13 pm] shotaro: (^з^)-︎♡

+

due to the fact that you believed donghyuck was going to try and officially initiate shotaro into your friend group with one of his infamous pranks, you decided to head to the boba shop. you hoped that if you showed up, you would be able to prevent whatever mayhem he had planned or at the very least, provide some damage control.

you pushed open the door to the quaint building, the bell dinging to announce your arrival. your eyes immediately lock onto the table in the far back since it was where you and your friends always sat — you had practically claimed it. you expect to see all the chairs filled but, to your surprise, only one person occupies the space.

osaki shotaro.

he beams, probably relieved to finally have some company in the otherwise empty shop. (after all, you weren’t sure how long he had been sitting there all alone.) nevertheless, you allow yourself to wonder — just for a second —  if maybe he was just that ecstatic to see you. the way he enthusiastically waves you over seems to be in favor of that theory. it’s almost confirmed when you reach he table and he pats the chair beside him.

you let out a soft laugh. “the whole table’s empty, ‘taro.”

“i know,” he admits. “i just really want you to sit next to me.”

you swear you could break down in tears simply from the way he’s looking at you; like you’re all he needs. it’s pure adoration.  you wonder if that’s how you look at him too. you can’t help but ask yourself if he, too, notices your longing stares.

you decide that you would be a monster if you denied shotaro his wish, so, you internally prepare yourself to sit next to possibly the sweetest boy you’ve ever known. yet, that proves to be difficult as said boy stands up to pull out your chair like the gentleman he is. you shoot him a grateful smile, mentally dethroning jeno as the most well-mannered person you know and passing the crown on to shotaro.

“so, how long have you been waiting for?” you ask, resting your elbow on the table and leaning into your palm to stare attentively at the boy to your right.

“actually, i only got here a couple minutes before you. we did agree to meet up here a quarter before three, right?” he asks, slightly confused.

you nod in confirmation. “honestly, i think we got set up.”

shotaro tilts his head. “really? why would they do that?”

“might have something to do with our ‘chemistry’,” you explain, quoting donghyuck.

the japanese boy’s mouth falls agape, as he comes to the realization. “oh, so they literally set us up.”

“mhm,” you agree, smiling ever so slightly.

shotaro must be paying closer attention than you thought because he picks up on your grin. “what’s with the smile?”

you shrug, feigning uncertainty. “i guess i just don’t feel so bad about being set up if it’s with a certain cutie i know.”

“oh?” he raises a brow, cheeks growing as he too mirrors your lovestruck look. “should i be worried about this guy?”

“certainly not,” you reassure him. “i’ve only got eyes for one.”

you see a faded tint of pink rush to his cheeks and you find it adorable how your confession flusters him. you can’t help but caress the supple skin as gently as possible. shotaro leans into your touch, his own hand coming up to cup your own, almost as if he were holding you in place. after a couple moments of basking in the intimate moment, you retract your hand.

“maybe we should try and get hyuck to include that in the choreo, huh?” you suggest, a teasing smile on your lips.

shotaro chuckles, “sounds good to me. i might even ask if i can fill his position, too. if not, i just might get jealous.”

you playfully shove him and he raises his hands in surrender. you chuckle, grabbing one of the menus that litter the table, planning to offer shotaro some help choosing an item from the list that is surely unfamiliar to him but it seems something outside the window behind you has caught his focus instead.

“looks like we have an audience.”

you take a deep breath at his words, preparing yourself for whatever it is you’re going to see upon turning around. when you finally do, all you manage to catch is five heads ducking beneath the windowsill, in a weak attempt to not get caught.

“of course,” you nearly laugh. “they’re so predictable.”

shotaro seems to find the situation humorous as well, if his amused tone is anything to go by. “to be honest, we should be thanking them. they got us together.”

“oh, so we’re together now?” you inquire, raising a brow.

“w-well, i mean, if you want to. i-i definitely want to.”

“no need for stuttering,” you reassure him, reaching over to stroke that one ticklish spot on his neck. “to quote a very wise — and handsome — young man, ‘it’s mutual.’”

he smiles at his own words being recited to him. “i don’t know about you, but i think we should seal the deal.”

“interesting. how do you suppose we do that?” you ask with faux curiosity. you certainly had some ideas of your own.

“maybe... a kiss?” shotaro leans forward, eyes closed expectantly as he taps his cheek. you resist the urge to pinch his lovely, round baby cheeks. he peeks one eye open to add, “for the audience, of course.”

you giggle, completely and utterly love-struck by the boy before you. in fact, you are so enamored by him that you decide to go the extra mile and press a sweet, chaste peck to his lips.

it seems as if he himself didn’t expect it as his eyes snap open, hand coming up to cup his lips in shock. when he finally uncovers his mouth, you see there’s a dazed, giddy grin on his face that let’s you know the smooch was very welcome pleasant surprise.

your phones simultaneously go off, alerting you of incoming messages. it’s a given that it’s none other than the group chat.

[3:15 pm] nana: that smooch was romcom worthy i’m so impressed right now

[3:15 pm] jeno: shotaro is living proof that being a gentleman has its perks! everyone in this gc should take notes!

[3:15 pm] yangx2: HERE IHAVE THE VDIEO OF THE WHOELE THIGN IF ANYOEN WANTS IT

[3:16 pm] yangx2: attachment: 1 video

[3:16 pm] yangx2: SORURY FOR THE TYPSO MY TEARS ARE BLURRIGN THE KYEBIOARD

[3:16 pm] renjun: can we get boba now?

[3:16 pm] renjun: oh wait my bad, congrats to the new couple :-)

[3:16 pm] renjun: to celebrate they should pay for everyone’s drinks.. just a thought

[3:17 pm] hyuck: ur welcome, y/n and shotaro ;)

[bibbykins]

Penumbric Commitments (M)

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!! I wrote this up real quick yesterday, so please forgive any lacking in quality, but I had the idea and absolutely sprinted with it! I hope you all enjoy and look forward to the next full length fic I post, which I gave a not so little hint in here to!

Warnings: 18+, unhealthy relationship, manipulation, yelling, rough sex, light bondage, the usage of a belt as wrist restraints (consensual), brief fingering, male cumming inside, talking about not wanting a child, daddy kink, threatening to leave, offering to kill someone, semi-graphic talks of killing someone

Word count: 3.8k

Genre: Soft Yandere, Mafia! Au

Summary: Hindsight says Namjoon so easily complying with not having children was too easy considering his position in the business and the nightmare his parents had readily become. What you didn't realize was how far Namjoon was willing to prove to you he meant what he said that day: all you both ever need is each other.

Note: this is a canon drabble apart of the Silhouetted Bonds fic linked here

It's times like these that you regret getting a traditional clock. The ticking was incessant and daunting. It felt like it was getting closer and closer to your ear with the deafening silence it was slicing through. Analogs had to be the way to go, or better yet, none at all. The last thing you needed right now was a reminder of how much time has been spent at this table. Namjoon had sprinted home the moment his mother called him after your meeting with her. 

----

"Mrs. Kim, always a pleasure." You shook the older woman's hand with a tight smile. 

She returned yours with an equally fake smile, "Please, you know you can call me mother." She chided, but nevertheless you stayed silent as you sat back down at the table in your home. It used to be mom.

It was 8 a.m. your mother in law wanted to meet, so to be petty, you stated 9 a.m. would be great. It's a shame that your relationship with her came to this, but truthfully, it was far from your fault.

While in the beginning she had been like a mother to you, things quickly took a steep downturn the moment Namjoon reintroduced you into his life. The woman who had once been lively, rebellious, and took charge became a demure, stoic, and merely content wife. She had given you talks about your duty as the wife of the boss and the expectations she expected you to fulfill nowadays as opposed to telling stories of her youth and teaching you how to bake eccentric treats. She had even admonished you for leaving Namjoon, an idea she gave you really. Since then, she had always stated your allegiance to the business and your own husband had yet to be proven in her eyes. The notion struck you to only provide her with business professional talks.

You had always known her and Namjoon's father had been a marriage of convenience, but there seemed to be intense love between them, at least at one point. You're not sure when that collapsed in your absence, and sure you felt bad,but you did not care for her patronizing tones. If Namjoon wouldn't retaliate, she almost definitely would've had you killed the moment you decided to leave her precious son. 

"Now, I understand you're a busy woman, so I'll be chaste." She spoke as she took her seat, giving you a pointed look, "Do you feel as though you've made up for your betrayal?" This was obviously a trick question in her eyes, the simple answer being no.

However, you couldn't care less, "I have never betrayed anyone close to me, including Namjoon, if that's what you mean." You met her eyes with valor, "I don't see why you feel the need to ask such a silly question each time I see you." 

She laughed humorlessly, "Maybe I'm hoping for the right answer to cross your stubborn mind." Truly, if Namjoon didn't love and cherish his parents so much you would've told her to fuck off and mind her business, maybe focus on her own shitty marriage, by now. Alas, Namjoon was a people pleaser and fiercely intent on being a filial son.

"You mean your answer to the question about how I feel?" You raised a brow, "Even when apart from Namjoon, I took no other man. I've never even lied to Namjoon, I've been nothing but an honest and hardworking wife after forgiving his own shortcoming in honesty." You watch her fist clench in her lap at the suggestion of her precious boy having a shortcoming of any sort, "A shortcoming well remedied, seeing as I'm still here." You chided lightly in spite of the heavy tension. You pitied your staff in this moment for having to watch this battle of wills.

"Sometimes husbands lie to… protect, their wives." She struggled to find the right words as she regurgitated what Namjoon's father undoubtedly told her one too many times. Misery loves company, and goodness, did she want you to be as miserable as her.

You returned her fake smile two fold before speaking, "That's lovely, but I don't need protecting from my husband, I need trust, honesty, respect." The final word made her back straighten, "I'd like to live in reality with him, not be shielded from it, but I respect what you wish for your own marriage, but this is what I like for mine." 

She hummed in faux thought, "Very well, I can leave you to reflect on what marriage should be, you're still so young." You fought the urge to roll your eyes, "However, you're not that young…" This was a new addition, "When will I be receiving a grandchild?" 

Your brows furrowed. Namjoon told you she took the news of no grandchildren quite well. He told you that she was informed of your no children rule mere days after you spoke the words. The radio silence on the topic of children each time you met with either of his parents confirmed much for you, and you had even found yourself quite proud of him for standing his ground with you. Surely, his parents are not nearly old enough to be so forgetful.

This was the first question in a while that made you falter, and you could see the satisfaction she gained from it, "Grandchildren? I'm unsure what you-"

"Namjoon told me the last time I visited him in prison, you wanted to wait for your fifth wedding anniversary before trying for children, isn't that coming up quite soon?" She raised a brow and you felt your heart shatter. 

He lied to you. Again. He lied to you mere moments after you were ready to forgive him for lying to you the first time.

You let out a bitter laugh, "He did now?" She nodded and you shut your eyes for a moment, "It seems I've been made a fool of again." You sighed before looking as confusion crossed your mother-in-law's features, "I told Namjoon the very last time I visited him in prison that I did not want kids, ever."

"You know that's not possible for him, he's a successor." She laughed at your boldness.

"You know that he is an adult man with 6 brothers, biological or not, who will all marry one day, surely one of them will adopt or have a child." She scoffed at this, "I got my tubes tied years ago." This wiped the smile off her face.

"Does Namjoon know about this?" She snapped and you nodded with a bitter smile.

"He accompanied me to the appointment for moral support." You shot back.

"Well, your tubes can be untied and-"

"No." You deadpanned.

"No?" She mimicked in disbelief.

 "If Namjoon requires a child, he will also require a new wife." Your voice was cold and you watched shock settle into the woman across from you, "With his habit of lying coming to light, he may have to find a new wife regardless."

She stood, "Don't be-"

"Please, do not waste your breath on orders I will not be following." You held your hand up to silence her.

"I'll call Namjoon, he can talk this out with you, so you can see things our way." She tried to sound reassuring as one of your staff rushed to see her out respectfully when you did not budge from your seat.

You stayed seated at the mahogany table, staring at your wedding ring. You didn't want to get a divorce. You loved Namjoon, more than anything, and yet, did he love you more than anything?

----

You're not sure how long you stayed there, questioning everything, but it was enough time for Namjoon to come home. He ripped the door open, eyes searching frantically, ready to make sure you had not already left him before his eyes landed on your figure. From there, he took his seat across from you at the table and waited until he could no longer take the silence.

"Are you going to say anything?" Your husband's voice was calm, although fear was evident in his timbre.

You sucked your teeth and shrugged, continuing to look at your freshly manicured nails, "What's there to say?" Your voice was short, as if you were already tired of the conversation before it could even start, "You lied to me."

Your husband dropped his head into his hands and sighed, "Junebug, I'm sorry, I-"

"You embarrassed me, again." You look at him for the first time all night with a sharp glare, "Are you trying to find an excuse to divorce or do you just not care about me?" 

"Neither!" His head shot up and he met your eyes with deep regret when he realized you were looking at him with the anger and hurt he found you with all this years ago, "I love you, more than anything-"

"Obviously not!" You snapped, "Do you have any idea how it feels to explain to your shitty and judgy mother in law that, in spite of what her precious son said, you had no plans to have children, that you got your fucking tubes tied?!" Namjoon sighed, either in shame or pain, "Were you just hoping that would come around? That I'm such a fickle woman that I don't mean what I say?" 

His brows furrowed, "No, if I thought that, why did I let you get your tubes tied?!"

"Let me?" Your voice was mockingly soft, "You let me, huh?" You cocked your head slightly and he closed his eyes in frustration, "How fucking charitable of you, my sweet husband, master of the fucking house, to let your dumb little wife make a choice for her body!" You stood, "How considerate of you to play supportive husband only to fold the moment your mother asks you a question-"

"You know what my duty as the only son is!" It was his turn to raise his voice, but he immediately regretted it as he saw your eye twitch.

"And you knew my stance on kids before you got out of prison." You seethed, "You know why I don't want a fucking kid, nor do I plan to fold on my stance, because I'm all I've got left there." Namjoon's mouth parted slightly before he pressed his lips together.

"It's not my fault you don't want a kid because you'd be a bad mother just like your own." The words left his mouth before he could even begin to consider the repercussions. He was about to open his mouth again to back track wildly, but it was far too late as you took a step back, the weight of his words being too much to take from across the table.

He watched hurt consume your irises for only the second time in his life, the first time being mere hours before you left him for years, before you made him promise to never betray you like that again as a condition for you to come back to him. A condition that he evident did not adhere to in your eyes. "Do you want to know what made my mother such a bad mother?" He watched as the embers of rage within your eyes were only stoked by his reflection in your pupils, although he could see a thin layer of moisture begin to build up, pain, "You know, like I would be?" Your words were almost mocking as he stayed eerily still, "An unsupportive, isolating, and shitty sorry excuse for a fucking husband." Your word hit him like a truck.

Unsupportive. Isolating. Sorry excuse for a husband.

You weren't wrong right now. He felt shitty. He knew he should've just stood his ground. His parents didn't matter if it meant losing you, "I didn't mean that, what I said about-"

"You're right." A tear fell and he felt his heart shatter, "So if you want a kid, it'll have to be with someone else."

"I don't want anyone else, I never have!" He made his way to you as you weakly stepped back, "You're all I need." His voice was soft as he went to grab your hand, but you pulled away.

"You said that last time." Your tears were beyond your control as you wiped at them in vain, "You said that mere days before you told your mom that we were going to have kids and you told me your mom took the news well." You sniffled, "You lied to me, I can't believe that you lied to me and let me just walk around like a fool believing you, again!" 

He was stunned silent again. You were right. He had lost his back bone under the strict gaze of his parents and folded under pressure. He betrayed you, and all he could do was hope for your forgiveness.

You shook your head as he remained mute, "I need some time." You went to walk past him and to the door but he engulfed you in a hug, "Namjoon!" You struggled weakly to pull him from you but froze when you heard a sniffle.

"Please, don't go." He begged as he held you close, "I can't lose you again, I'm so sorry, please."

You fought sobs from escaping your mouth, "You lied to me, and your mom-"

"I'll kill her if you want me to." He spoke and your blood ran cold at his tone. He was serious, "My mom and my dad, I'll tell them we're not having children and if they can't handle that, they can leave us alone or die."

Your eyes were wide, tears frozen in time. Namjoon loved his parents. He was always a kid intent on surpassing their expectations, and he had made that clear to you when you started dating in highschool. You were his only sign of rebellion. He was intended to marry a woman from an affluent family, but he met you. You had figured that would be where his rebellion ended, but here he was, handing his parent's hearts in your hands and awaiting orders.

"Joonie, y-you can't mean-" You sputtered to reason but he only held you tighter.

"Or even if you just want me to kill them, I will, with my own hands of course, nobody else can know." His remained headstrong in his resolve, stroking your hair, "I don't care what I have to do to keep you with me." He kissed the top of your head, "You are the only person, the only thing on this Earth that matters to me I cannot live without you." 

A sick, and extremely twisted part of you wanted to call your mother-in-law and say, "Hah!" You wanted to rub it in her face that her son, in spite of everything, chose you. Her precious boy has been yours for years now. However, your sanity slipped through the cracks as you shook your head again.

"You love your parents." You shook your head as you cried into his chest, "And if you felt that way, why would you lie to me?"

He sniffled, "I was weakened, not 100% sure you would truly accept me with open arms and I panicked when they asked." He sighed, "I know it's pathetic and I know I seemed like I knew we would make it, but I didn't know that. They never brought it up after that so I naively thought they would forget and when they asked me again, I would tell them the truth and-"

"You're so stupid." You cried harder into his chest and felt him nod, "If you're scared to face your parents, tell me, and we'll do it together." You were surely ruining his dress shirt, but he stroked your hair soothingly, "Your mom has been calling me a shitty wife for years and after today, she must truly believe it, and I-I should take some time-" Namjoon held you, arms sliding down your body as he got down to his needs and you felt your heart drop, and you gasped, "Stop, don't-" 

You tried to help him up but he grabbed your wrists as he looked up at you with tear stained cheeks and eyes as wet as yours, shaking his head at your frantic protests as he kissed your hands and your wedding ring tenderly, "I can't lose you again." His voice was weighty with sorrow at the thought of you being away from him, "You matter more to me than my duty as a successor does, than my parents do, even more than this whole fucking business." He rubbed his cheek against your hand in desperation as you stood frozen from the shock of Namjoon begging on his knees with the utmost humility. The most powerful man in the city, undoubtedly the country as well, was on his knees crying and begging you to stay, "If killing my parents is what I have to do to prove it, I will. Name how you want it done, when you want it done, and I'll do it." He was dead serious and he could tell you knew it as tears spilled onto your cheeks even more, "You're a better wife than I deserve, and all I can ever hope is to be even a fraction of the husband you deserve, and I'm sorry I've been missing the mark." This made your face twist in pain, regret. Namjoon, up until today, had been nothing short of perfect, and even now he was making up for it, "Almost losing you nearly killed me, and-and I get that sometimes people need time to calm down but I would just prefer you beat the shit out of me instead-"

"I didn't mean that either!" You cried out as you sunk down to your knees to hug the sobbing man before you, "You aren't a sorry excuse for a husband, you're just a goddamn idiot, and I didn't want time I just didn'twant to see your stupid face because I was so angry." You laughed as he did for a moment, "Above all else, you're an amazing husband. I love you, always have, I just hate when you lie-" Your voice in his ear was like heaven as he felt a weight lift of his shoulders.

He grabbed your legs to wrap around his waist before you could properly settle onto your knees. He held you close and he soothed your cries, "I haven't lied to you since, I can promise you that." He sighed and you scoffed, "You don't have to believe me. I'm just asking you to stay with me so I can prove it over time." 

"I'm...I'm not leaving you." You sighed into his neck before he pulled you back to trap your lips between his as he kissed your with a vigorous passion. When you returned his kiss with an equal amount of desperation, he began to stand with you in his arms before promptly laying you on the couch, never detaching his mouth from yours the whole time.

You settled into the velvet cushions as he ground himself into your sex, making you gasp, "I love you, my darling." He murmured into your mouth while one of his hands slid your dress up and your panties to the side before brushing his fingers across your pussy and groaning at your wetness, "Oh fuck, you're so wet, baby." His mouth went to your ear as you moaned, threading your fingers into his hair, "Was it me promising to kill for you or me getting onto my knees that did it, hm?" He rubbed slow circles over your clit and you gasped, "You get off on me spilling blood for you? You get wet by me demeaning myself to keep you right here, where you belong?" 

"Yes, daddy, I do- fuck!" You clutched his hair harder as his finger slipped in and your hips wiggled impatienly, "Just fuck me, I don't care about being stretched, fuck me." 

Too desperate to even hesitate, Namjoon undid his belt, ripping it from his trousers as he secured your wrists within the leather garment, as he had done many times before. He undid your belt as he pushed your arms up and his pants down with his boxers. He slid into you with a deep groan that you matched with a wanton moan. He fucked himself into you feverishly, wasting no time in chasing your high as his nimble finger went down to stimulate your clit, "I love you so fucking much, y/n." He groaned as he felt you tighten, "I don't care who I have to kill to prove it, I'll even let you watch the light drain from their fucking eyes if it means you'll stay with me." 

You moaned out as he whispered gruesome threats to the outside world intermingling with sweet nothings as he held the belt around your wrists,using it as leverage to fuck you harder. If you were sane, you would not be getting closer and closer to orgasm as he cursed the rest of the world into painful deaths just to have you as his wife, but here you were, clenching around him and opening your legs further so he can go deeper, "Shit, I'm gonna cum!" You cried out, arms going over Namjoon's head so you could pull him down to you by the neck and kiss his lips messily.

His hand went from your clit as he wrapped his arm around you to hoist you up and slam himself into you further, "That's right baby, cum for daddy and I'll give you my cum." He cooed in spite of the strain to keep himself from busting you before you get your release. His words only threw you over the edge as you climaxed, hurdling him into his own. He fucked his cum into you like always and you moaned lightly until he was done.

He held himself inside of you as you both gained your breath again, exchanging occasional kisses, "You don't have to kill them, you know." You spoke finally "Although, I won't be so cordial with their bullshit anymore."

He nodded, "I'm by your side, Junebug, forever and always." You smiled before kissing him.

"And I, you." You hummed blissfully.

"We have everything we need between just the two of us, I promise." He smiled against your kiss while you nodded, "You'll be the only one calling me daddy for the rest of out lives- hey!" You smack his chest lightly as you both laughed blissfully, letting the seriously twisted shit that just transpired be a simple part of the past.

"Your mom is a bitch." You giggled tiredly as he chuckled.

"Don't worry about being nice to her if you don't want to, I have my priorities straight." He gave you another kiss that you returned with glee.

As he was cleaning you up, your hazy mind allowed you to feel smug at the fact that you just saved your shitty in-laws from certain death. You were their ticket to life. You were their precious successor's priority. You were his only true love.

Namjoon watched with nothing but love as he tucked your sleeping form into bed. Thinking on it now, he doesn't know if he could even stand the idea of you loving a child as much as you loved him. He enjoyed his monopoly over your affection, and a child would only throw a wrench in that for him. Taehyung liked kids, Jungkook seemed like a family man, maybe even Hoseok if that new girl he's saying is as serious for him as he says. All it took was one kid to carry on the business, so you didn't need to worry your pretty little head about it.

All you had to worry about was staying by his side and all he had to worry about was being a good enough husband to keep you there. He kissed your forehead as he held you closer to him, texting his mom the next time she disrespects you or his marriage, there would be consequences. 

You were the only person he needed. He would do anything to make you understand that. 

The ticking of the clock was nowhere to be heard as you laid in Namjoon's arms. You snuggled into him as you caught sight of the thinly veiled threat he sent to his own mother on account of your feelings. He was yours just as much yours were his and the victory of it all had never tasted so sweet. His heartbeat was all you could hear, steady, loving, and to the beat of the drum you commanded. 

You both wouldn't have it any other way.

Masterlist

If you enjoyed and are able, please support my ko-fi!

[meteorrogers]

the secret charm of forbidden things | a. b.

summary: you piss off your professor 

pairing: professor!andy barber x reader

warnings: professor/student relationship, student humiliation (nothing serious), fluff, smut (+18 pls), daddy kink, spanking, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (and like the most unoriginal plot); let me know if i missed something!

word count: 3,478 (approx)

a/n: i really tried to avoid writing this shit but my brain just wouldn’t let it go, so i’m really sorry for this. also, i’m not a smut writer so this couldn’t be more poorly written. sorry for that too *nervous laughter* i hope there are some readers out there who enjoy cliché stories lol. oh and i know nothing about criminal law so i just skimmed through the Mass. laws and picked the easiest thing i could create a question of. anyway, if you do read this, i hope you’ll enjoy it and let me know what you think! every kind of feedback is appreciated!! 

You’re browsing the internet, looking for some quality e-shop that would offer lingerie you’d like. Or more importantly, he would like. And since your focus is completely on the phone that is hidden from the professor’s eyes (or so you think), you miss the call of your name.

“Miss (Y/L/N)!” the stern and this time louder sound of a male voice brings your attention to the man that it belongs to, standing only a few feet from your seat, thanks to its place in the front row. His expression is hard, a clear sign that you’ve been caught and you shrink into your chair, your cheeks becoming warm. “If you want to pass my class, I suggest you turn off the phone and focus on the lecture.”

You do as you’re asked and put the phone away but you don’t expect him to address you again.

“So since you seem to have enough knowledge that you don’t even need to listen to me,” he pauses and comes closer to you, crossing his arms. “Tell me what the punishments for organ trafficking are.”

You hold your breath, not even realizing it as you’re trying to think of the correct answer, however, that’s a little difficult with him towering over you, and your eyes can’t help but flicker to his crotch that is aligned with your vision. When you look up again, there is an amusement painted over his face which you almost miss to notice. 

“Um, imprisonment?”

The professor keeps looking at you expectantly and when you don‘t say anything more, his chest heaves in a deep sigh, and his eyebrows rise as he looks at the floor in disappointment. “You’ll be having a hard time getting clients, Miss (Y/L/N),” he tells you and goes back to his desk to lean his backside on it.

Okay, you weren’t paying attention but you also thought that the times when professors publicly humiliated students had been left behind. So, now you are not only embarrassed but also pissed.

You just roll your eyeballs and slightly shake your head, taking a pen and doodling in the open notebook laying on your desk in order to calm yourself down and trying not to think about the judgemental stares being sent your way.

“Does anyone here want to remind Miss (Y/L/N) the consequences of organ trafficking?” he asks, before fucking Amelia raises her hand with her all too sugary may I, professor Barber? and you nearly lose it. You watch him as he sweetly smiles at her and prompts her to answer. She does, correctly so, and while she’s going into details, he lets his eyes wander and rest them on you from time to time. You never avert your eyes, glaring at him, hoping he takes notice of the annoyance written all over your face, but he just smirks when she finishes talking and he looks back at her.

“You’re a brilliant student, Amelia. I think you deserve a reward for the hard work.” When he stresses the word reward, he gives you a glance, and you can’t keep your eyes from rolling, again.

“Alright, class, that’s it for today. Don’t forget to send in the paper that’s due Sunday. Enjoy your weekend.”

You pack your things, shoving them into your bag before storming towards the exit, but you don’t make it too far when the professor’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Miss (Y/L/N), a moment, please,” he says as he gathers his things. You sigh, closing your eyes as you mentally prepare yourself for what’s to come. Turning around, you make your way towards him. 

“I believe we need to discuss your work ethic.” when you remain silent, he continues. “Great, since you don’t have any objections, you can follow me into my office.”

You do as you’re told and while you wait for him to unlock the door in the corner of the auditorium, you catch a glimpse of Amelia giving you a smug smirk. Mr. Barber finally opens the door and extends his arm, letting you in before him. You enter and stop in the middle of the office, nervously fiddling with the hem of your pleated black skirt as you hear a soft click signaling that the door is now closed, followed by the snap of the lock.

You gulp, your heart beating faster as you continue to stand there and try not to give away your nervousness. The only sound that follows is the echo of his footsteps as he walks past you and to his desk, putting his stuff on the wooden surface. He doesn’t say anything, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling the sleeves of his moss green dress shirt up to his elbows and the veins of his forearm are left on full display.

“Mr. Barber, I—“ you finally speak up but he cuts you off, making his way towards the comfy-looking couch sitting alongside the wall opposite of you. 

“You wanna tell me what that was about? You know I have a no-phone policy in my class, right?” he sits down and spreads his arms on the back of the sofa.

“I’m sorry, I was just—“

“You were just what? Looking for some skimpy underwear to tease me with during the lectures?” the blood rushes to your cheeks and you look to your left, not able to hold his gaze anymore. “As much as I’d enjoy that sight, I’m still a little disappointed in you. The question wasn’t that hard.” He’s closely watching your every reaction as your body squirms, your thighs discreetly rubbing against each other. “You know, Amelia truly is a great student. She’s slowly becoming better than you since you seem distracted for most of my classes. What reward do you think I should give her?”

And that is what causes you to run out of patience and your head to snap to where he is sitting. Bingo, Andy thinks.

“Are you fucking serious, Andy?” you say with a raised voice. If you blinked, you wouldn’t even catch the smirk that formed on his lips for like a millisecond.

“Hey!” he scolds “Watch your tone.“

You ignore him.

“Since when do you humiliate your students in front of the whole class, huh?” you confront him angrily “It was a dick move, Andy, you know that! And then the bullshit with Amelia? If you want her to wet your dick, just ask her, I’m sure she’ll be up for it.”

“Come here,” he says calmly which unsettles you because you expected him to be furious given the way you’d lashed out at him, but you roll your eyes anyway and turn to leave, however, the sound of your name coming from his lips stops you. “(Y/N).” you inhale deeply and turn back to him. “I said, come here.”

You come up to him, still keeping your distance so you don‘t stand between his spread-out legs. “What?” you bite.

He huffs out a laugh. “You’re walking on very thin ice, sweetheart.” He says and you feel your belly doing flips at the nickname. “How about you lose the attitude and come here like I instructed you to.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“How about you go fuck yourself.”

And that’s the last straw. Andy Barber is a very patient guy but when it comes to a bratty behavior like yours right now, he tends to lose his temper pretty quickly.

He swiftly leans forward and grabs your wrist, yanking you between his thighs. You have to catch yourself on his broad shoulders as you stumble from the firm tug, your stomach flush against his chest. His hand grabs the strap of your bag, putting it on the floor before his fingers fall to the back of your thighs, sliding up and up until they rest just below the cheeks of your ass, holding you against him.

“You wanna be a bad girl today, huh?”

You frown and click your tongue. “Jesus, Andy, I’m not in the mood for this.” You start pushing against his shoulders to put a distance between you, failing miserably.

“Sweetheart, you’re not even trying. You think I’m stupid or what?”

“I’m serious, let me go,” you say, but you don’t even sound convincing to yourself.

“You’re not in the mood, you say?” he asks and you nod your head. “Then why do I smell you all the way here, hm?” his fingers creep higher, playing with the lacy hem of your panties. He snorts. “You’re desperate to get fucked, aren’t you?”

By now, your panties are drenched. After what he did to you in the class, you tried so hard not to be turned on by him, but it’s impossible. Andy is a very attractive man, very intelligent and in combination with his sinful mouth, you just can’t bring yourself to not want to be fucked by him.

He doesn’t break eye contact when he hooks his fingers into your underwear and slides them down your legs, until he leans forward, his cheek brushing your hip so he can pull them all the way down himself. You step out of them and his back straightens up, putting the piece of ruined fabric into his pants pocket.

“Get over my knee.”

“Andy, come on. We’re in school. Can’t you just fuck me now and spank me later?”

“Oh, so suddenly you are in the mood?” he raises his brows “Get over my knee. Now. You don’t wanna piss me off more than I already am.” He says sternly.

You unhurriedly move from in between his legs but you’re too slow for his liking. Before you can react, he’s once again yanking you by your wrist, twisting your body in a way that makes you fall over his thick thighs. One hand gently settles on your throat, holding your head up, and the other starts tickling the back of your knee before slowly creeping up your thigh, tucking up your skirt, until you feel the cool air of the room brush against your wet pussy.

You clutch his pants in your hands, and when his palm leaves your skin you prepare yourself for the first blow. Instead, he gently sets it down on your butt again just to caress it, but even that unexpected touch has you jerking forward. He laughs and before you know it, the hand lifts itself up and strikes your right cheek. This time your body jerks rightfully but the fingers around your neck tighten, preventing you from moving too much.

“Not so tough now, huh?” he strokes the sore skin. “How many do you think you deserve?” you shrug as best as the restraint allows you to. “If I remember correctly” he pauses, just to brush his fingers against your pussy lips, smiling to himself when he feels the arousal leaking out of you “You weren’t paying attention in the class.” He spanks your other cheek. “You were using your phone even though it’s forbidden.” For that, the next hit lands on your right cheek again and you don’t think before you dare to open your mouth.

“Really? You are gonna lecture me about what is and isn‘t forbidden? You’re fucking your student for God’s sake.”

“Just for that, I’m adding 5 more to the ones for raising your voice at me, lying to me, and disobeying me.”

He spanks you for everything he listed, caressing your sore butt in between each hit and you are on the verge of crying, the tears in your eyes about to fall down your cheeks. When you think he’s finished, you release a relieved breath, but suddenly, he strikes you three more times, without any break and you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut, the tears finally rolling down.

“That was for the eye rolls I received throughout the day.” He says angrily before leaning down, brushing his lips against your ear as he whispers. “Now, what do you call me when we’re alone?” You just need a minute to catch your breath to reply but he’s not having it. “Answer me right now, or I’ll spank your ass raw, you won’t even be able to sit right. What do you call me?” he asks again.

“Daddy.” You whimper quietly and he smiles.

“Good girl.” He forces your body up with the hand on your throat and throws you on the couch, but before you can make yourself comfortable, he flips you on your stomach and grabs your hips, pulling you up so your ass is in the air.

His touch disappears for a moment and when you adjust your head to be able to get at least a little peek at him, your cheek pressed into the couch, you see him loosening his tie. He grabs your arms and crosses them at your wrist on the small of your back, tying them together with the piece of fabric.

He kisses each palm and then continues up your bare arm, licking, sucking, and biting, until his lips reach your shoulder covered by the short sleeve of your white t-shirt. “You okay, sweetheart?” He knows you are, but just to be sure.

“Yes, daddy.” You smile and he tugs the neckline of your shirt away for a second just to kiss your skin.

Then, he kneels on the floor behind you, coming face to face with your weeping cunt and he needs to adjust himself at the sight. He curls his fingers around your thighs and starts kissing them, getting closer to your core and his eyes close on their own accord when he inhales your smell. His lips finally make contact with your lower ones, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your entrance before he pulls away and hums, leaving you trembling. 

“Andy!” You whine from the loss as your frustration grows, and he bites the tender skin of your ass.

“Baby, call me Andy one more time and you won’t be coming for a very long time.”

Your breath shudders when you exhale. “I’m sorry, daddy.”

If it was any other time and any other place, he would take his time to properly punish you, but someone could knock on the door any second and he’s honestly been dying to devour you all day.

He spreads your cheeks and leans forward, finally burying his face into your cunt, his tongue finding the little bundle of nerves and you moan, your eyes rolling in your head from the feeling of his soft tongue relieving the ache combined with the feeling of his rough beard scratching your inner thighs.

Andy takes the bud between his lips, sucking harshly and you buck your hips, causing him to grunt and the vibrations go straight into your clit, more slick dripping from your hole. He doesn‘t let a single drop go to waste as he licks up to your entrance, slurping the juices along the way before he starts plunging his tongue in and out of you. You bite your lip, trying not to make too loud sounds.

“That feel good?” he pulls away to ask, replacing his tongue with his thumb as he waits for your answer, rubbing your clit in quick circles.

“So good, daddy. Let me cum, please,” you whimper and he smirks.

“You’re lucky we’re in my office right now, otherwise I’d take my sweet time to take this sweet pussy apart,” to emphasize it, he thrusts his thumb into you and pinches your sensitive clit between two fingers, another moan escaping your lips. “I wouldn’t let you cum until you were crying and screaming out apologies.”

He slides his thumb back down to your clit, quickly circling it as he dives into you again, massaging your walls with the soft muscle until the knot in your belly starts tightening and you bite on the cushion to prevent yourself from screaming as the dam finally breaks and you’re cumming, Andy drinking up everything your pussy has to offer and he needs to force himself to pull away, your taste almost too addictive.

Before you know it, the sound of his belt clanking reaches your ears and a moment later, you feel his hand on your hip while the other gets a hold of his cock, positioning the tip at your entrance before pushing himself slowly into your heat. He groans while you mewl, filling you to the hilt and giving you some time to adjust to his size.

He starts with slow thrusts once he feels you constrict around him and the hand that isn’t bruising your hip grips the knot that holds your wrists together, giving himself leverage when he begins to quicken his pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. So tight.”

And he feels amazing, too, his cock reaching all the right places, the familiar tingling reappearing again as your thighs start to quiver. He leans over you, his chest to your back as his hand on your hip slides down and starts rubbing your clit.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” his warm breath hits the shell of your ear. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy squeezing around me. God.”

“Please, daddy.” You mewl and he growls at your innocent voice, picking up his pace even more so, his thrusts becoming harder and your tied hands grasp his wrist. 

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for daddy.” He nips at your ear and with a few more thrusts, you’re cumming again, not able to hold in the moans anymore. He rides you through it, chasing his own orgasm and when you feel his hot cum filling you up, he stills, his breath brushing your cheek as he pants.

Once he comes down from his high, he kisses your jaw and stands up, pulling himself from your heat and you hiss at the feeling. He puts his cock into his boxers and zips his pants before he unties your hands, revealing the light red marks on your wrists. You stretch your hands a little before you bring them under yourself to lift yourself up, your skirt falling back down around your thighs and covering your now-glistening intimate parts.

Turning around, you stay kneeling on the couch, looking up at Andy with those big eyes that make him weak in the knees. The corner of his mouth lifts at the sight of your fucked out state, your hair is messy, there are imprints from the cushion on the cheek you were lying on, and the wet trails from your tears are almost dried.

He leans down and kisses you slowly and deeply as his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, his other hand gently cupping your cheek. Jesus, he doesn’t know how you do it but his dick is already twitching in his pants so he breaks the kiss because otherwise, he’d have to fuck you again. He pulls you up on your feet and bends down to pick up your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before his hands fall to your hips. You smile and adjust the strap.

“So, when will I see you in the new number?” he smirks.

“Well, I didn’t even get to pick any,” you reply with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “And I have Mrs. Harper next and I wouldn’t dare to use my phone during her class since her punishments are actual punishments.”

“Are you saying my punishments are ineffective?” he feigns shock.

“I’m just saying if you fucked every student for using their phone, they’d be doing it on purpose, professor.”

He laughs and pulls you closer. “That would be exhausting. But those kinds of punishments are reserved for my favorite student only.” 

“Should I be worried? You seemed pretty delighted with Amelia.” you joke, but half of you is a bit insecure because Amelia is a pretty girl with glowing skin and a brain big enough to impress him. And like the amazing person Andy is, he sees right through you and gives you an adoring smile before his lips touch your forehead, your eyes fluttering close. 

“You are my favorite student. Nobody else,” he assures you once he pulls away. 

Your smile widens and your belly twists at his sappiness, but you wrinkle your nose when you suddenly become aware of the slickness between your legs.

“I need my panties back.”

He snorts and shakes his head.

“I’m gonna keep them.” Your jaw drops. You have two more classes today, you can’t go that long with Andy’s cum leaking out of you! “Oh, you thought your punishment was over? I want you to come over to my place right after school. And don’t even think about going home to change.” His stern voice is back and he takes your chin between his fingers.

“I hope you finished your paper. We have a long weekend in front of us.”

the end.

a/n2: thank you for reading!!!!!❤️❤️my other works can be find under #writer luci !☺️

[uvobreakmylegs]

Floor 200

I’m still working on part two of vampire!Hisoka but here’s a different, shorter piece with him

Warnings: threats of noncon, implied death, implications of smut

You yelped a bit as you moved out of the way of the two young boys who burst out from the elevator, barely managing to avoid them plowing you down as they sprinted past you.

The boy wearing green at least had the decency to call back a “sorry!” to you as they ran, and the rather messy-looking man with glasses that followed behind them also offered you a quick apology before going on his way. Just as quickly as those three had come, they were gone, leaving through a side entrance of Heaven's Arena while your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at how sudden and unexpected all of that had been.

The encounter was more confusing than anything. With the amount of dangerous characters that lived in the tower, it certainly wasn't a place for children to be running around like that. Some of the people here really didn't give a shit, and if those two ran into someone who was actually dangerous and bloodthirsty, you feared what the end result of that would be.

The elevator doors sliding shut brought you back to reality, and you pushed your arm against one door to hold it open as you slipped inside, pushing the button for the 200th floor.

Thinking about those boys again brought back memories of your own childhood, of running around and playing with your friends and getting into trouble. You sighed a little bit, thinking of the things you used to do and wondering where all that energy had gone now that you'd grown up.

….. Dear God, had you really gotten to the point in your life where you'd be reminiscing about your childhood and the fact that you'd grown up to be as miserable as everybody else? It wasn't like you were that old.

You didn't want to focus on that slightly depressing thought, so you turned your attention to the bags of groceries you held and the meal you planned to make. Tonight was special. After finishing up a few jobs and going through his Hunter exam, Hisoka was actually back and planned to stick around for a while. So to celebrate both his success and return you were planning on cooking dinner for the two of you. You couldn't help feeling a little bit of excitement at the thought of it. It was such a small thing to eat dinner together, but it had been a while since you had seen him last, and you wanted to make the most of it.

The downside of living on the 200th floor of the arena meant that the elevator rides were terribly long, so you usually let your mind wander as the car made its way up the numerous floors. At least the long ride helped you to calm down from that little bit of shock earlier.

The ding of the elevator and the sound of the doors sliding open alerted you when you reached your destination. You left the elevator car and veered to the right towards the hallway that lead to Hisoka's room.

“Hey you- Oh.”

A voice sounded from behind, and you turned around to see who had spoken, finding three men that you knew better than you wanted to. Though for the life of you, you could never remember their names. You only knew them as the one in the wheelchair, the freaky-looking one missing an arm, and the other freaky-looking one in red. Gido.... That one was named Gido. You were about 90% sure that was correct.

“Can I help you?” you asked them.

They all avoided your gaze.

“We were waiting for someone else,” the one without an arm said, “thought you were these two kids that made it to the floor.”

“Do I look like two kids?”

None of them responded to your question. It was clear that they wanted you to leave, but after the last time you had been confronted in these hallways, they knew better than to even say anything out of line.

Hisoka had been pushing you to move in with him, and while you weren't really sure you wanted to live at the tower full-time, you couldn't deny that the room he had on the 200th floor was nice. A lot nicer than anything you could afford in that city. And since there weren't any rent or utilities that needed to be paid, it would be a good opportunity to save up some cash. So you agreed, much to Hisoka's delight.

The incident occurred when you had been moving in; Hisoka had gone on ahead of you, carrying a few boxes while you were bringing up a few bags full of clothes. On the way to Hisoka's room, those three had stopped you, along with a fourth man, one who was covered in burn scars and missing an eye. It was obvious you weren't a nen user, so they'd demanded to know what you were doing up there.

“My boyfriend lives here; I'm moving in with him,” you told them.

“Boyfriend, huh?” the one with the scars asked, “what, you cozied up to one of the fighters here so you could live in luxury without working for it?”

“I don't have to explain myself to you,” you answered.

“No, but you'll do it anyway.”

“Fuck off.”

At that he grabbed you by the throat and slammed you into the wall, the other three laughing behind him as he held you in place.

“It just isn't good for the arena's image if any random slut off the street can be living up on this level alongside the quality fighters,” he said, “so beat it, you stupid bitch. You don't belong here.”

“And a bunch of losers who barely survived their initiations do?”

Your words seemed to hit a nerve for all four of them, and the air around you grew deadly as the grip on your throat became that much tighter. But as he did so, the one with the scars smirked as a thought came to his mind.

“I've got an idea,” he said, “why doesn't your boyfriend make a wager with me? If he fights me and wins, you can stay. But if I win, my buddies and I get to have you for the night, and then you get the fuck outta here.”

“You want to fuck me? I thought I was a slut,” you spat, “is this about humiliating me or are you four just that desperate because no one is stupid enough to willingly get in bed with you?”

He reached with his other hand to grab your jaw and force your mouth closed. Egging him on really was so stupid, but the familiar figure you had noticed from the corner of your eye made you feel a bit more bold.

“You've got a mouth on you. But I've got a few ideas on how to shut you up and put that little smartass mouth to better use.”

The other three had grown quiet, but the one holding you didn't notice.

“So how 'bout it? Will you ask your boyfriend about that wager, or should I?”

It was hard to speak with how he was holding you, but you responded as you pointed to your right.

“I think.... He already heard.”

The scarred man's eyes followed where you were pointing, and when he saw Hisoka standing within earshot, you swore that man's soul just about left his body.

The other three had already noticed him, and were actively trying to distance themselves from their fourth.

Hisoka was smiling, but the second the man laid eyes on him bloodlust he had been holding back oozed from him, filling up the hallway and consuming all four.

The man who had been on your case backed away from you, holding up his hands in surrender.

“I-I-I d-didn't know,” he sputtered.

Hisoka didn't answer at first. He casually walked up to you two and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. With how Hisoka's nails dug into your hip, you could tell that Hisoka was well and truly pissed off. The man had stayed where he was, the murderous aura keeping him in place.

Hisoka looked to him.

“I accept your wager.”

The fight between them was one of the most gruesome things you had ever witnessed, and it went down as one of the bloodiest matches in the tower's history. The remaining trio didn't go anywhere near Hisoka after that, and they did everything they could to avoid you as well.

Whatever they were waiting for must have been important to them, seeing as they weren't turning around and leaving at the sight of you. They had mentioned kids, and you wondered if they were referring to the two boys who had come from the elevator.

But ultimately, it wasn't any of your business, and you motioned to the hallway you had been headed for as you asked “do you need me for something? I've got stuff I need to do.”

They shook their heads, their eyes still averted, and you continued on your way. The petty side of you wanted to throw back a quip of some kind, but you decided against it. They already didn't like you; there was no point in making things worse and have them resent you further.

Though it was probably hard for them to start shit when they remembered the way their old buddy was cut to pieces.

When you entered that hallway, to your surprise, you found Hisoka sitting on the floor at the other end. His eyes widened and he grinned when he saw you, flicking the card he was holding and throwing it into the wall. Reaching the end of the hallway, you found several playing cards that had been sliced into the wall at various angles. What the hell was he doing?

“.... What'd the wall do to you?” you finally asked.

Hisoka paused, a new card he was about to throw still between his fingers as he looked over to you.

“After we've been apart for so long, that's the first thing you say to me?” he responded, his eyebrow raised. Though he still had that teasing grin.

“You're making a nuisance of yourself,” you answered, “who exactly is going to clean this up once you're done here?”

“Who knows. It's not my problem.”

“I used to work in jobs like these, Hisoka. Trust me, cleaning up something like this won’t be fun.”

“The people who will clean this up aren't you, so I don't care,” he responded.

You sighed. You wouldn't be getting anywhere with this argument; better to just let it go.

“Is there a reason you're sitting on the floor out here?” you tried instead.

“I'm waiting for someone.”

“Hm. I'm guessing it's not me.”

“Afraid not.”

“Who then?”

“Two promising little fighters who've caught my eye,” Hisoka mused, “but they aren't quite ready to be up on this level just yet. And unless they can get past me, they won't be advancing any further.”

“So this is some kind of initiation thing?” you asked.

“In a way.”

“And how long is this going to take?”

“They need to be back before midnight, so possibly until then.”

Your eyes narrowed at that bit of information.

“Oh? Is something wrong?” Hisoka asked, tilting his head as he looked at you.

“Haven't you forgotten something, Hisoka?”

Seconds passed by as he looked up at you, and you couldn't tell if he was just bullshitting you or if he had genuinely forgotten your plans for the evening.

“Oh!” he exclaimed after a moment, “we were planning on dinner, weren't we?”

“It seriously took you that long to remember?” you asked dryly.

“You'll have to forgive me, pet. I simply got caught up in the moment. You know how I get sometimes.”

“Unfortunately, yeah, I do,” you sighed, “so you're just going to blow me off tonight?”

“It isn't anything personal. This is just something I need to see through,” he explained.

“Oh, of course. At least I know how high I am on your list of priorities,” you responded sarcastically.

Hisoka frowned at that, and as he threw the card he had been holding into the wall, he said “you know I don't like it when you say things like that, even as a joke.”

'Just like you know I don't like it when you cancel last-minute,' was what you wanted to say to him. But as disappointed as you were, you didn't want to get into an argument immediately after seeing him again. And it was easy enough to reschedule a dinner.

“Whatever. We can move dinner to tomorrow,” you shrugging as you conceded.

“I appreciate it,” he said, smiling.

“I guess if I'm not awake by the time you get back, I'll see you in the morning.”

Hisoka nodded, and you began to walk forward, passing him and heading to your room.

A thought occurred to you then, and you turned back.

“When was the last time you ate, Hisoka?”

He seemed caught slightly off-guard by the question, and he looked to the side as his brain tried to recall the last time he had done something as basic as making sure he ate.

“You can't even remember, can you?” you asked him.

“I'll have something when I get back,” he said, shrugging.

You sighed again. Adjusting the bags so you held both on one arm, you rummaged through as you walked back to him. Hisoka looked at you curiously as you held out an apple for him.

“Eat something, idiot.”

Hisoka chuckled.

“If you insist,” he replied, taking the apple.

“I always appreciate the way you take care of me, pet.”

“Yeah, but maybe one of these days you could start to take care of yourself. Kinda sad you need me to remind you to eat, of all things.”

“I can't help it. I like it when you dote on me.”

“Idiot.”

A slight blur of movement from the end of the hallway caught your attention. Someone was listening in, it seemed. Based off the slight bit of red you had seen, it was safe to assume it was Gido. Why he was listening to you and Hisoka you weren't sure. And it didn't seem that Hisoka had seemed to care; if you had noticed him, than Hisoka definitely knew he was there.

“Something wrong? I wouldn't want to keep you out here as well,” Hisoka said.

“... No, everything's fine. I just need to do one last thing.”

“Oh?”

“Since you're blowing me off for dinner, I want something from you.”

You knelt down on your knees and set the bags to the side before you moved in to place a kiss on Hisoka's lips, resting your hands on his chest. He had seemed rather surprised at first and didn't move. But when you began to pull away he reacted, his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair and pressing you harder against his lips. When you felt his tongue trying to force its way in you relented, opening your mouth and allowing him access. You weren't able to stop the groan that came out of you at the sensation of his tongue moving against your own, and to you it sounded like the noise echoed slightly in the empty hallway. Hisoka always made his kisses intense, and you were always left with flushed cheeks by the end of it.

When you pulled away again, he allowed it. His finger twirled a strand of your hair as he breathed “if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were using me to keep certain pests off your back.”

“Well, you have to be good for something, right?”

“Cheeky thing.”

You hummed as you stood back up, Hisoka trailing his hand down your arm as you did so, the sensation of his nails running along your skin giving you goosebumps. One glance back down that hallway and you could sense that there wasn't anyone there. Probably too awkward for even Gido to keep watching you two. Hisoka had already pulled out another playing card as you picked up the rest of the groceries.

“See you later, Hisoka.”

You began to walk away again, but when Hisoka called out your name, you paused and turned your head. There was a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Don't think you can rile me up and then get away with no consequences,” he told you.

“I don't know what you mean,” you said, feigning ignorance.

“Then I'll have to show you what I mean when I come back tonight.”

“It might have to wait until tomorrow; if you're coming back after midnight I'm going to be asleep. I'm not waiting up for you.”

“Trust me, pet,” he purred as he flung another card at the wall, “you won't be getting much sleep tonight.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the way he said it. It was hardly even that dirty, and he had certainly said much dirtier things to you before. But in a way that only he was able, Hisoka managed to leave you flustered and incapable of keeping eye contact with him. Turning your head away from him just made it worse, as he chuckled at your embarrassment.

“We'll see,” was all you could say.

It was a pretty weak response, and you were quick to head back to the room, trying not to walk away too quickly and show him how much of a hurry you were in to get out of that situation.

Despite all that, you couldn't help the slight feeling of anticipation from what he promised.

You'd probably end up waiting up for him after all.

[gayvillains]

On Byron, Keats, Thorne, and Fawcett

This is kind of a boring and nerdy thought so I apologise in advance but I've been thinking about how Thomas might see Julian as a bit of a Byronic figure in the house, which is why he clashes with him so much. And, for the Fawthorne and Bythorne (I just made that one up but I'm quite proud of it) fans among us, might also add more depth to their relationship/s romantically.

Under a read more because it's quite long, slightly spoilery, also touches here and there on nsfw stuff.

BYRON

Despite a frankly miserable childhood, Byron inherited a Barony age 10 and went to Harrow, then Cambridge, and was notoriously obnoxious, arrogant, prideful, hedonistic, bisexual, political, and prone to affairs and perversity. He died when his only legitimate daughter was nine (he did have other children out of wedlock), having had no relationship with her due to his separation from his wife (in turn due his alcoholism and affair with his half-sister). Most of his passions were short-lived and much of his life was coloured by clashes, disagreements, and his own temperamental nature. He loved satire & took aim at a lot of his contemporaries.

Sound like any fictional assholes you know?

Before I talk about the similarities with Julian, I want to think about how we could build Thomas and Byron's potential relationship by piecing together some existing relationships that Byron really had & what we could infer his relationship with Thomas might have been like (with apologies to the academic whose work I'm using to be weird about fictional characters online).

BYRON & THOMAS AS RIVALS

The main (and most "canonical", I suppose) possibility is to do with Thomas' aesthetic sensibilities, the quality of his poetry, and Byron's snobbishness. I've always thought that of all the Romantic poets, Thomas is the most like Keats (with a bit of Shelley): a sweet, sickly poet who was preoccupied with beauty, nature, and love, though Thomas is definitely more privileged and less successful than Keats. Bryon's attitude toward Keats was cruel and scornful (albeit quite funny, sorry Keats):

From the (albeit limited) canonical sources we have on Thomas' poetry, "a sort of mental masturbation" is exactly what I would expect someone (read: Julian) to call it. I don't know whether Byron hates Keats, but he certainly doesn't think he's worth his time. He's dismissive of Keats, belittles his poetry, pretends not to know his name because he considers him beneath him. There's certainly an element of classism here: Keats was far poorer than Byron and an outsider to the world of literature, with no formal literary education and little success. But most critics also looked down on him, Byron included, for being a bit of a radical as far as his poetic style was concerned, having been inspired by the old vanguard of Romantic poets (Wordsworth, Coleridge, etc.) who disliked the Augustan classicism of the 18th century (such as Pope). Byron was a big fan of Pope & co. and despised equally Wordsworth's "namby-pamby" concern with ordinariness and Keats' preoccupation with imagination and dreams.

I think this clash in style & aesthetic would almost certainly be true of Thomas and Byron, too. In a letter to his brother in 1819, Keats wrote:

‘You speak of Lord Byron and me – There is this great difference between us. He describes what he sees – I describe what I imagine – Mine is the hardest task.’

Sight/experience vs. imagination/dreaming is crucial here -- of the two I think it's fair to say Thomas is more inclined toward the latter. His poetry tends toward fictitious scenarios and daydreaming about love because he has so little experience of the real thing. I think it's also because he's very sheltered more generally. Thomas never wanted for anything; in the therapy circle he tells everyone his mother introduced him to publishers, adored his work, supported him. Thomas never really had to struggle in terms of basic needs.

(Ironically, the moment in the show where Thomas veers toward saying something poignant is when he describes the sunrise in season three, but this isn't Romantic poetry so much as a nice thought he has, so it's hard to judge it, really. I think it's a bit Wordsworthian in its dealing with the ordinariness of life, so I think Byron would dislike it even if Thomas were to forge it into a real poem).

Putting all this together, we have a well off but wildly (and probably deservedly) unsuccessful poet who writes about imaginary love and occasionally veers into mundanity & the ordinary. I think Byron would dislike Thomas' poetry even more than Keats', because I think, on some level (pure conjecture here), Byron probably did respect Keats as a poet and as someone who struggled. Despite Byron genuinely being a massive snob, I think it's overstated sometimes, and it's objectively true that a) he did take pieces of Wordsworth's poetry into his own after Shelley urged him to reread his work, and b) he was very concerned with social issues & oppression. His stances in the House of Lords were often unpopular and always radically liberal.

I don't think he would have felt any warmth or sympathy at all toward Thomas, and Thomas certainly wouldn't have been immune to Byron's scorn due to some kind of Rich Boys United mentality, especially when Thomas is a) a bad poet (sorry) and b) at odds with Byron's poetic sensibilities in the first place. I think he probably would have despised Thomas' solipsism and self-pity. Thomas, for his part, would have been intensely jealous of Byron's success and fame, and I think this jealous rivalry is exactly what we see in the show, though for Thomas to have been known by Byron at all would probably have been a feat in itself. Maybe the real bitterness came from Byron not knowing who he was; a one-sided rivalry that Thomas perhaps hyperbolised in his head because it made him feel important.

BYRON & THOMAS AS LOVERS

To think about Thomas' potential romantic relationship with Byron, I want to start with one of my favourite anecdotes of all time about Caroline Lamb, one of Byron's lovers:

I mean, the levels of melodrama!

Byron seemed to inspire this mad affection in some people; it wouldn't surprise me if it inspired something similar in our obsessive, melodramatic, and hyperbolic Thomas, leading to a relationship that got "too public and intense". Thomas seems to develop intense fixations on people (as we can see in his dedication to Alison and Lucy in particular), especially people who are utterly unattainable to him for one reason or another. He's prone to borderline stalker behaviour (as Lamb is), and I can imagine him projecting similar notions of love and romance onto Byron. If they did have an affair, it likely would have been intense but short-lived, and probably something that Thomas "Why Must I Always Be Spurned" Thorne would have carried round bitterly for a very long time.

I can't imagine Byron loving Thomas like he loved John Edleston, for example, given the aforementioned distaste he would have had for his poetry. I think it would have been purely sexual, and perhaps initiated by Byron's interest in Thomas' innocence. All of Byron's relationships with men were with men younger than him (whether significantly or by a few years). If we're going by Mat's age, Thomas would be older than Byron, but I think feasibly we could place Thomas in his early 30s when he died, making him younger. Add this to his more general lack of worldly experience and a potential idolisation of Byron, and he might fit the bill for piquing Byron's mercurial interest.

Obviously with it being a homosexual relationship in regency England, it would probably would have been short-lived anyway in case rumours grew. The stakes would have been high and the anxiety very acute. Byron probably could have taken it in his stride (as he'd had other affairs with men), but for Thomas, it probably would have been a bigger deal, especially if it was his first gay tryst with a poet he greatly admired -- it would have been a huge deal to him! He wouldn't have been able to write about it openly, either, which wouldn't have suited Thomas at all, who I think would have wanted to tell everyone and write about it.

A doomed passion, ultimately, and the kind I can really see Thomas fixating on/mourning, one he'd have very complicated feelings on, but also the kind that might inspire him, poetically speaking.

JULIAN AS BYRONIC

FINALLY, onto Julian.

There's some very clear similarities to be drawn between Byron and Julian's licentious lives here. Harrow, tick; Cambridge, tick; obnoxious, arrogant, prideful, TICK; hedonism, politics, affairs, perversity, absent father, tick tick tick tick tick. As for Julian's sexuality, I guess the jury's out. Canonically he's surely (intended to be) straight, but there are a few moments that can be read against this.

Firstly, when he wishes he'd seen the gay threesome between George Button & co. (if I'm honest, I think he was referring to seeing Fanny being pushed out a window, but as gay!Julian weirdo I will take what I can get). Secondly, when he mentions his first threesome at university being his "own moon landing": I mean, come ON. Obviously you can have straight anal sex but there were three of them involved & this episode is so close to the George/butler/gardener revelation that it's kind of where my mind instinctively goes. It's poor evidence, but regardless I don't think it would be out of character for Julian to have had at least a few homosexual experiences.

Byron also valued personal freedom very highly. He wanted to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. This selfishness is the same as Julian's, I think, as is his sociability: that larger than life, commanding presence in a room, which usually always comes with a mocking jibe and pompous attitude. Julian clashes with most members of the house at some point and seems to put people down whenever he needs to hide his own insecurities. Even in terms of Byron's aesthetic interests, (ie. his focus on real events, real relationships, and sight over imagination, fantasy, and dreaming), Julian is comparable. Not via poetry, sure, but in terms of his actual perspective. His vast experience and his background in politics means he's interested in reality and tangible things (like *Ian Dury voice* sex and drugs and legislation) and these are what he more often than not elects to talk about when he gets the chance. For comparison, Thomas very rarely opens up about the reality of his past: it took an entire episode to get the truth about Isabelle out of him. He lives in his head; Julian, in theory, lives in the so-called real world of sensation and actuality, as Byron supposedly did.

JULIAN & THOMAS

It's already well-documented in the show that Julian and Thomas are at odds with one another. In many ways, this rivalry resembles the rivalry between Keats and Byron and the (potential) rivalry between Thomas and Byron. It's not based on poetry, obviously, but Julian is probably quite a skilled orator. He would have to be, to work in politics. The Julian we see in the show is perpetually drunk so his intelligence is certainly dulled, but he's got a first from Cambridge so he's got academic smarts for sure, and, most importantly, probably knows how to write persuasively. So on this level, Julian has had experience with writing than he can compare with Thomas': I'm sure it contributes to why he thinks so little of Thomas' poetry.

More broadly, Julian is scornful, dismissive, and belittling toward Thomas. He has very little respect not only for his poetry, but also for his effeminacy, his whimsy, and his extremely privileged background (see: "GET A JOB!"). Julian dislikes Thomas' lack of work ethic; from this we can assume that despite being well off, Julian believes that he works far harder as a politician than Thomas did as a poet, and is therefore more deserving of his obscene wealth.

Moving beyond pure rivalry, a sexual relationship between Thomas and Julian might also resemble the possible relationship between Thomas and Byron, which is so say, it might be short-lived and to do with innocence vs. experience (Thomas is definitely younger than Julian, imo), but ultimately Julian might not consider Thomas enough of an equal to be worthy of a legitimate relationship. Thomas would be obsessive and single-minded which would scare the life out of Julian "No Strings Attached" Fawcett in the first place. They might have even had this sort of relationship before we join them with Alison in 2019, which might also explain why they're particularly antagonistic toward one another when we meet them.

On the flip side, I think there are differences between Julian and Byron that would lead to Julian being fonder of Thomas than Byron might have been.

For one, Julian does have a bit of a Rich Boys Unite mentality. Same boys, after all. What's more, Julian very much does not have the liberal sensibilities Byron has. I doubt Julian is offended by Thomas' wealth so much as what he perceives as laziness & a weak, pitiful nature. They have more in common than Byron and Thomas might (both rich and happy to rest on their laurels in their privileged position, both ultimately family-oriented, both seem to have issues with intimacy and flightiness), so there's more to be mined between them beyond this. With the poet/poet dynamic removed, too, Julian probably has less interest in being snobby about the specifics of Thomas' poetry, and pairing them opens up the possibility of Julian confronting his own aversion to romance/closeness & Thomas confronting his obsessive nature, rather than allowing these things to perpetuate themselves.

As obvious as it sounds, Thomas and Julian also have death in common. While they might not have liked one another when they were alive, they have a shared trauma and tragedy that unites them. While Byron was scornful of Keats even in death ("I am very sorry for it - though I think he took the wrong line as a poet"), and probably would have felt similarly towards Thomas' death (if he could've; Thomas outlived him by 7 months), Julian is not! Julian is canonically moved to tears by Thomas' recollection of his death, meaning that Julian has an empathy for Thomas in death that he rarely seems to have exhibited toward anyone in life (see also: the toaster moment).

Ultimately I think Julian is very reminiscent of Byron, and I think the way he treats Thomas as beneath him/not worth his time would probably remind Thomas of his relationship with the poet. Moving beyond this rivalry, they could definitely work as ghosts with benefits, just as Byron and Thomas might have been poets with benefits. But there are enough differences for Thomas to have a more healthy and reciprocal relationship with Julian than he would've had with Byron, and for them both to work on their own internalised shit together in the afterlife.

Disclaimer: I am not a Romantic scholar by any stretch of the imagination and while some of this is fact, the extrapolation is very much fiction and opinion. I don't know what Byron would have thought of Thomas, I'm just guessing. I might be completely off the mark with some of the class discourse, too; so aside from the biographical content, do take this all with a pinch of salt :^)

[mint-yooxgi]

Please yandere,waiter xiaojun purposefully messing up yn's date

"What can I get for you?" Xiaojun smiles politely at you as he waits for you to tell him your order, chiming in here and there with his recommendations when you seem stuck, or even just to see that polite smile of yours be directed towards him once more.

Ever since he saw you walk in with this date of yours, he's been doing his best to maintain his composure. That should be him, not someone else. However, he doesn't want to lose his job, either. That still doesn't mean he can't make your dates' life miserable.

Taking down their order, he's quick to nod and walk away, going to get started on your drinks. Perhaps he'll slip a few drops of his eyedrops in your date's drink just to mess with them. Especially since he jus watched them reach across the table and grab your hand.

Is it just him, or do you now look uncomfortable?

In his haste to get back to the table, he completely forgets the water he's supposed to bring you. Though from the look you send him, you appear grateful he showed up when he did. Of course! He'll always be around to save you, and he'll start with saving you from this asshole of a date.

Hurrying off to grab the water he conveniently forgot, he's quick to return. while pouring, he 'accidentally' spills some onto your date's lap, apologizing to you profusely while they go to clean themselves up. He knows he's got you on his side when he uses the 'I'm new' excuse.

Much too soon for his liking, your date returns and Xiaojun has to leave to attend to his other patrons. He keeps a carful eye on you, though, observing your every reaction while you're with your date and swooping in from time to time in order to 'save' you from them.

Finally, he delivers your food, what your ordered cooked to perfection while your dates' is slightly overdone. He can only quirk a brow at them for they wait until the very end after they've eaten everything to complain about how 'well done' their steak was. Xiaojun notices you almost shrinking in your seat in embarrassment as your date causes a scene.

Just was he's ringing up your bill at the front, he hears someone meekly say 'excuse me'. Looking up, he has to fight the smile that wants to pull at his features when he sees you sending him another smile.

"Hi, sorry for them," you're quick to apologize, "uh, anyways, I was hoping I could just quickly pay for everything and leave, but I don't want them knowing."

"Yeah," he clears his throat, nodding for extra emphasis, "yeah, of course."

Presenting you with the bill, he watches your eyes scan over the receipt. He takes this time to memorize your features in the better lighting of the front of the restaurant. Never has he been this close to you before. Well, that you're aware of, and he's going to savour every moment of it.

A few moments pass by with you staring intently at the receipt, and his brow furrows. "Is everything okay?"

"Huh?" This seems to snap you out of your daze, eyes widening ever so slightly as you look back at him. "Oh, yeah, just thinking is all."

"Penny for your thoughts?" He quirks a brow as you begin to take your wallet out in order to pay.

"Just wondering how I always manage to pick the worst dates," you give him a tight smile as you hand him your credit card.

He has to fight the smile of victory that wants to pull at his lips from appearing on his face, "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Well, there was one redeeming quality," you shrug, signing off on the bill once he's done processing your card.

"Oh?" His gaze raises to meet yours, "what might that be?"

"I had great service," you smile once more, shooting him a wink as you tuck your card away. "Anyways, thanks for everything. Good luck with the new job."

Without another word, you turn and exit the restaurant.

Xiaojun swears his heart is about to beat right out of his chest as he watches you leave. His thoughts running wild as he looks down to see that you left him your phone number written neatly right beside your signature on the bill.

Smirking to himself, Xiaojun cannot believe how well that went. One thing's for sure, though. He will do everything he can in order to see you again, and maybe next time, he'll be able to take you on a date that you actually enjoy.

No. He'll make sure of it.