#this one was just too many spoilers to give away so

[rexlroze]

𝟐 — 𝐃𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, No physical description of reader other than mostly height comparison. Swearing, Mention of alcohol, drinking, vomiting, Fluff.

𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

A/N: I honestly had to rethink this over and over again so many times even though I was like half way thru the damn chapter so that's why making this took me long, also the fact I have the attention span of a child. I was really not sure about this whole thing cuz it kinda felt too sudden but hopefully, it turned out fine? for me it did tbh but like. *blink* yk? Or maybe it's just because I'm not confident in my fucking writing skills and need validation for every damn step I take<3 But anyways, I made half of the notes for this chapter during math class and the teacher caught me so that too (Spoiler Alert: I got sent to the principal's office :3) but that's besides the point. Also if some of the characters were a little OOC, I'm very sorry- I tried my best to make them as accurate as possible (some inaccurate shit tends to get on my nerve, mostly if it's produced by me) annnnd I need to stop ranting💀. I don't take requests nor do I plan on doing so in the future. Happy reading! 😉

Chapter 2 >>> Chapter 3

Each Stroke of paint is smooth, filling the wall with a little more color than before. The bristles of the paint brush gently swipes over the wall. Music flowed into your ears and through, making you hum.

The atmosphere was calming, like nothing could ever—

“Whatcha listenin’ to?” A teasing voice appeared beside you making you jump and your shoulder tense up.

Right. You forgot he was still here. Pushing your headphones off, “a song.” You answered flatly, turning away from him, your back facing Hobie as you dipped your paint brush into the thick minty liquid that was within the metal bucket and slid the brush across the wall.

“Really? I'll have to check it out when I get home.”

You scoff at the sarcasm in his tone.

After yesterday, he helped you with a little cleaning. You thought he was probably going to dip and disappear from your life after that so when he returned the next day (today), it did surprise you a little. He's been just hanging around. You don't know why, he doesn't owe you anything. “Why are you helping me again?” You turned to him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Mate, you've asked me that like 4 times already.” 

“And each time, I haven't gotten a proper answer.”

This time, he's the one to scoff. “Is it that bad to want to just help somebody?”

“You're dodging the question again.” You say in a sing-song voice.

He holds his hands up in surrender, “aight aight. I'm just tryna help out a friend of a friend, y'know? Plus. I ain't' hurtin’ anyone, right?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it means, love.”

You sighed, your arm falling to your side. Your other hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “okay. I'll admit, I'm being a little… douchey.” You say, biting your lip, “But I can't say that I don't appreciate your help, and company.”

“Little's an understatement.” Hobie quipped, snickering to himself which made you throw a side glance in his direction. An innocent smile spread across his face. 

You rolled your eyes turning back to the wall to continue what you were doing. Hobie took it as a sign to pursue his side of the wall.

A small spot was left just at the top of the wall making you push yourself up on your tiptoes, trying to get to the empty white patch on top of the wall.

Hobie, who was distracted by his own work, took a glance at you when he heard a few groans of frustration. Seeing you so frustrated over such a small thing brought a small smirk to his face. He settled his brush down into the paint bucket and made his way to you, your head turning to him when you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye extending his hand, beckoning for you to give him the brush you held.

You raised your eyebrow but gave in, settling the brush into his extended hand, your fingers grazing his palm before you quickly withdrew your hand to your side.

He stepped forward closer to you and the wall, making you step back away, giving him space as he took care of the last white spot on the wall. 

“Thank you,” you gave him a small smile and a nod.

“No problem.” He returned the smile. You two stood there holding eye contact. His eyes were as pretty as they were in the poster. No. Prettier. You thought, why? You didn't know. 

You quickly cleared your throat and looked away to look at your progress the two of you had made whilst he sunk the paint brush back into the depths of the mint paint after filling the small white spot with paint.

The two of you had already completed three walls, the last wall was just about half done. The only other thing left to paint was the closet, you'd get to that later.

“You wanna go get a drink?” Hobie suddenly asked, turning his head towards you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather vest.

You rubbed a hand over your jaw, the thought of a break was very enticing right about now since you'd been busy for about a solid 4-5 hours. You answered after a second or two of silence. “Sure. I could use a little break.”

“Good cuz I know an awesome pub around here.”

“Lead the way.” You said extending your arm towards the door.

—

The two of you walked side by side, Hobie’s gaze fixed on the rock he kept kicking in front of him during your walk, yours lost in the sky that was split into hues of yellow and pink.

“So, I haven't really seen you around here before.” Hobie suddenly spoke up after his rock companion got left behind, a small pout formed on his face which disappeared as quickly as it appeared when it did but obviously he wasn't going back just to retrieve a rock.

“Just moved here about a few days ago, used to live in York with my parents.” You answered, crossing one of your arms behind your head.

“Hm.” He nodded before silence fell over the two of you again, seems neither of you knew what to say. Your eyes lingered on the sky, watching the purple mixing into the pink and orange.

This time, you decided to break the silence. “So, where are we going?” Your head turned towards him, tilting your head a little.

“It's a surprise.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders.

“It's a bar.”

“Your point?”

“I mean, how ‘exciting’ can a bar really be?” You snorted.

“Depends, you ever been in an underground pub?”

“No— say what now?” You gawked, turning to Hobie with wide eyes who just smirked and lifted his chin. When he didn't continue elaborating further, you decided to poke at the subject. “Wait, c'mon. You gotta tell me more.”

Chuckling, he let out a low whistle. “No, I don't.” 

“You can't just tell me we're going to an underground bar then shut up. Like- what if I get kidnapped or sumn?” You exaggerated, throwing your hands up in the air.

“I'll be right there beside you, love, won't even let anyone lay a hand. Good?” He proposed, playfully tilting his head a little.

“You're torturing me.” You groaned.

“Maybe that's my plan.” He shrugged, flicking invisible lint off his jacket.

“...”

“How do I know you're not the one who's trying to kidnap me?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Doesn't it seem oddly weird you just randomly appear at my parlor, offer me help and now you're taking me to a very secret underground bar.”

As Hobie heard you ramble on, he couldn't help but start to chuckle. His chuckle twisting into a flown blown laugh as you threw a playful punch in his shoulder.

“Tell me. You have trust issues or something?” He chuckled, wiping an unshed tear from his eye. “Just have a little patience. It'll be worth it, I promise. I mean, you can always go back if you’re too paranoid.”

“Hilarious.”

“I'm being serious, I can walk you back right now if you'd like.” He offered, slowing down.

Your lips parted as you thought about it for a quick second before shaking your head. “Nah, no thank you. I'm coming along.”

“Hm, suit yourself.” He shrugged looking back to the front of the street. Your footsteps falling in sync with one another once more.

Silence taking over, punctuated by the honking motorcycles and cars and the birds chirping.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Twelve minutes later, the both of you stood before an abandoned 2 storey office building. It looked like it hadn't been used in decades with its cracked windows which reflected the creamy moonlight. Graffiti turned the concrete structure into a riot of colors, doodles, swear words and penises with overgrown vines that clawed their way up the sides. 

As Hobie strode towards the door, his hand inches away from pushing the door when you suddenly spoke up, “it's in there?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He said turning his head towards you, “I know it don’ look it but I promise it's on purpose. Keeps the coopers away.”

“Ehh… I don't know. I'm starting to believe the whole “you're trying to kidnap me” thing.” Skepticism traced your voice.

“Oh, c’mon. Just trust me.”

“That's what I'm scared to do.” You scoffed. “This looks like a place where serial killers would stuff their victims in.”

“Dunno, never tried digging around. Two bodies at best?” He analyzed jokingly, covering up his laugh with a cough as he saw you pale a little. 

“You're not funny.”

“Dunno ‘bout that, love.” He snickered. “You comin’?” He didn't wait for you to answer before he disappeared into the building.

You crossed your arms tapping your foot, not wanting to follow him in because of your stubbornness but something about standing alone sent chills down your spine.

I'm gonna kill him. You quickly sprinted into the office-like building following Hobie's direction, running away from something you don't even know.

You find yourself walking behind Hobie who walks up to an elevator across the room. The walls were crumbling, chairs laidon the floor, tables flipped upside down “Why the hell is this place so run down?”

“It's a meeting ground made by the government, basically all the corrupted and secret shit that they wanted no one knowing happened around here but word got out. Eventually punks started graffiting the grounds, protesting, sneaking in and eventually drove them out to who knows where. Started using it as a club and a speakeasy after cuz it was spacious grounds. Coopers don’ blink an eye towards this direction cuz they're bloody cowards.” He casually explains (leaving out the part where he whooped their asses and corrupted all their data with a chip he made as Spider-Punk but you didn't need to know that.) 

He pressed a few buttons which opened up the elevator doors. Wordlessly, he gestured to you to get in.

“And you know this how?” You lifted an eyebrow climbing into the elevator, he followed suit.

When you asked that, it brought a proud smile to Hobie's face, “I was one of the punks.” He answered nonchalantly without glancing at you, the pockets of his leather vest stuffed with his hands. The elevator door slid back together locking the both of you in.

“Of course you were,” you said it like it was one of the most obvious things in the world for which you got a little nudge in the shoulder from his elbow. He pressed a button on a small keypad beside the door making the elevator flow down.

The elevator finally stopped making a small chiming sound after what seemed like minutes but in reality. It had been barely more than 40 seconds. Guess time just slowed down when you're in the presence of awkward silence… or Hobie.

The doors opened up letting bright neon lights seep in and illuminate your face. The ��bar’ (which looked more like a rave) was more lively than most bars you've gone to. Vibrant blends of pink, blue, and yellow casted over you.

“W'dya think?” A voice shouted over the blasting songs, Hobie's voice. You just stared at him wide eyed, unable to make up a coherent response. “You'll get used to it.” He nudged you before stepping out the elevator, signaling for you to follow him.

You shook yourself out of your daze and promptly caught up with him. You swore to god you've put way too much trust in someone you met a day ago. Maybe not even a complete 24 hours yet but you're too deep in and too stubborn to turn around.

“You come here often then?” You arched an eyebrow in his direction, his gaze straight ahead but he tilted his head a little to meet yours.

“Occasionally. Usually—” He was cut off by someone who called out to him in the crowd. “Yo, it's Hobie everyone!”

People glanced in your (his) direction, waving at him and cheering him on. Said man waves back, winking in the direction of a few gals who probably fainted with how excited they got but you didn't bother checking.

“Mr.Popular, huh?”

“That's one way to put it. I come here to hang out often so I know people.”

“Do you usually take all your girls here?” You suddenly blurted out, heat clawed its way up your neck when you processed what you just had said. He raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress the shit-eating grin that came onto his face. “Shut up, I didn't mean it like that.” You grumbled, turning your head away from him. 

“I didn't say anything,” he shrugged, feigning obliviousness. 

“You implied it.”

“Did I?”

Something about his tone just wanted to make you sink into the floor and become one with the secretundergroundbarraveparty (whatever it was) or maybe punch that stupid smile off his face but you didn't do either. Instead you continued making your way through the crowd with him until you reached a bar. Several drinks lined up on several shelves behind the counter. You could tell that it wasn't just some cheap liquor crap either. It made you wonder where they had gotten it from.

He sat down on one of the stools, locking eyes with you before patting the stool beside him. Before you could say anything, your body moved on its own, settling yourself on the stool. Nobody else was really seated near your guys, most of the people were already drunk and partying.

Hobie leaned back against nothing but the air particles, his eyes resting on you when you stirred a little, turning to face him, “what?” you tilted your head.

“Nothin’, just thinking.” He gave you one of his small smiles before his attention averted to the raven-haired girl that walked through one of the doors that was hidden behind the counter. Her eyes fell on the two of you making them pop open, “are my eyes deceiving me or are those my most favorite people? Y/N, you didn't tell me you were in town!” She beamed.

“Yuri?” Your eyes harmonized hers. “I was gonna surprise you but… wait, what're you doing here?”

“Me? I work here, babe. The real question is what are the two of you doing here, hmm?” Yuri gaped, leaning against the counter. Her arms crossed over it.

“He dragged me into this.” You said pointing your thumb at the man beside you, making him gasp dramatically, “nah nah, I see how it is.” He drawled, turning his head away from you.

“Drama queen.” You accused, punched him in his bicep. The two of you acted like you had known each other for years by now.

“Ooh, you two must be close.” Yuri cooed, tilting her head, her cheek squished up against her hand as she watched the two of you interact.

“We met yesterday,” you scoffed, turning down any further suggestions that she could blurt out.

“Is that supposed to make a difference?” Yuri sassed, wiping a glass mug down with a cloth that was under the counter.

“Yuri.” Your eyebrows knitted together making her smirk, “what? I'm being serious.” She smirked.

“If this is you being serious, I don't wanna know what you being unserious is like.” Yuri snickered, placing two mugs in front of the two of you. Her body twisted around pulling out one of the alcoholic drinks out of the shelf and shaking the bottle before pouring it into your glass. “So darling, how've you been, how's Camden treating you so far?” She asked, pushing the two mugs across the counter towards you too.

“It's been alright. I've been working on my parlor recently. Otherwise… nothing special. Oh, Spider-Punk also saved my brain from spewing out like three days ago so that's something,” You shrugged when you suddenly heard Hobie choke on his drink, his beer going down the wrong pipe making him cough harshly. You and Yuri raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“Bloody hell. Sorry, this- this drink is really strong,” He sputtered, clearing his throat. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, tears stinging his eyes.

“Okay…” Your tone contained skepticism in it, “you good now?” You asked to which he nodded. “Fantastic.”

You nodded, turning back to Yuri. A silence washing over the three of you even with the blast of music and chitter chatter in the back.

Yuri opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it when she heard the door squeak open. A brunette walked through, his face flushed as he stumbled towards the counter. “Hey!”

“Flash!” Yuri squeaked, her eyebrows knitting together. “You're not supposed to drink during your fucking shift!”

“Bloody hell. Chill, mom.” He rolled his eyes, voice awfully slurred leaning his hip against the counter but miserably failing after almost falling.

“Ay,” Hobie lifted his head in a greeting while you sat beside him thinned-lipped.

“Oh my god. Hobie, is that you my man?” Flash exclaimed, throwing his arms out in a hug but unable to reach him due to the counter that separated them so going for a high-wave instead that he missed by a head.

“The one and only,” Hobie snickered, grabbing Flash's wrist and guiding him through the high five properly.

Flash clicked his tongue, turning his head towards you, “Ooh, and who's this pretty little thing?” He smirked, grabbing your hand that laid atop the counter and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You gave him a polite smile, retracting your hand. You opened your mouth to introduce yourself but Hobie beat you to it. “Y/N Y/L/N. We met yesterday.”

“What he said,” you dipped your chin in agreement.

“A pretty name for a prettier lady,” Flash winked at you when Yuri pushed him away with her whole hand pressed up against his face, “don't mind this idiot. He always gets like this when he's woozy.”

“‘m not woozy.” Flash grumbled, pushing her hand off his face and crossing his arms over his chest like a child who didn't get what they wanted.

“Sure you aren't.” Yuri rolled her eyes, wiping the black marble counter with gold veinings etched into them with a scruffy cloth tinted a light brown at hand (you assumed that it used to be white once.)

“Just a little bit, alright?” He grunted.

You tune in and out of the conversation thinking about what you could do back at the parlor, what you still need to do and improve, how you're going to start developing and promoting your work. Making a website could do me goods, never hurts to try. Maybe I should make a Facebook page— You jumped out of your twilight zone when a pair of fingers snapped right in front of your face.

“Welcome back to earth, love.” Hobie's voice was the first one you processed. 

“Sorry, just got some things on my mind.” You ran a hand over your head till the nape of your neck, letting it settle there.

“I can see that,” Hobie took the empty glass of beer in your hand and replaced it with a refilled one. Your eyes lingered on his hands, watching them with precision before your eyes found their way back to your glass, staring at the foam floating at the top of the glass. You brought the glass up to your lips letting the liquid burn down your throat.

Hobies eyes lit up with amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Calm down, love. The drink ain’ gonna run away from you.” He quipped, his fingers gently wrapping around your forearm pulling the drink down from your lips. Your body slightly tensed up as his warmth seeped into your skin and throughout your body, your eyes meeting his.

Hobie's amused smirk seemed to drop into a line when he noticed the change in the atmosphere. His eyes stuck on yours, yours on his.

The tension suddenly drowned out by the cackle of Yuri who was watching Flash flirt (and fail miserably) with some gals that sat a few seats away from the two of you. His hand quickly untangled itself from your arm finding its way back onto the counter. You let out a breath of relief thankful for brief distraction.

Flash trudged back to where the three of you were, his shoulders slumped with a small pout planted on his face after the girls left with scowls and disgust etched on their faces.

“No luck?” Yuri teased.

“Shut up.” Flash huffed, snapping his head away from her to which Yuri hummed smugly.

Hobie reassured Flash by giving him a small pat on his back whispering some words into his ear that seemed to lighten him up. 

“Hey, up for some dare or drink?” Flash beamed suddenly, his movement more animated than before.

“What?” you tilt your head quizzically. 

“Dare or drink, do the dare or chug a beer.” Flash summarized with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

“Oh no, I should probably get back in a couple of minutes,” you interjected, waving your hands in the air dismissively. 

Yuri frowned, “c'mon babe, my shift is almost over. It won't hurt you to have a little fun, y'know?”

“I really shouldn't-” You protested but quickly folded with Yuri's small pout the alcohol in your system. I'm so gonna regret this later.

—

“Chug, chug, chug!” The three chanted while your hazy eyes tried to focus on the mug of beer in front of you. This might've been your fifth drink of the night, but could you blame yourself? You were definitely NOT texting your fucking ex that you missed him (given by our dear Flash). Not in a million years, but it was more tempting than chugging another beer and inevitably using the next person near you as a vomit bucket.

“Fuck, 'm gonna vomit.” You slurred, putting the glass mug down on the marble counter. Somehow, even with four and a half beers in your system, you could kind of think properly.

Kind of.

“It's the beer or the dare, babe.” Yuri reminded, wiggling her finger.

“Mhm,” you pinched the bridge of your nose trying to rub the blur out of your eyesight. “I-I’m going to find the bathroom.” You shook your head, standing up clumsily. You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth but it didn't help with your slurring at all.

You just whipped around and showed yourself the way towards the bathroom which you had no idea where the fuck it was simply disappearing into the crowd.

“That's not even the direction of the bathroom.” Yuri murmured, sighing defeatedly.

“So… who's going with her?” Flash raised an eyebrow, his eyes bouncing between Hobie and Yuri. The two stared back at him, making him raise his hands in the air defensively, “not it.”

It made both Hobie and Yuri roll their eyes. Yuri turned towards Hobie, opening her mouth to say something but Hobie interrupted her before she could.

“I'll go, ya both enjoy. If we don't return, we left, ‘ight?” Hobie gave them a curt nod and small goodbyes before he headed your way quickly just in case you were about to do something stupidly stupid and wouldn't be able to take it back.

Hobie strutted through the packed room, hands in pocket, eyes searching for a certain (h/c) headed individual. His height an advantage as he could see over the array of people. His nostrils taking in a whiff of the sweat and alcohol mixed in with the air, dancing bodies bumping against his.

Where did she go? He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes wandered over the room, skimming through the crowd but unable to spot you. You went in the complete wrong direction so you couldn't possibly have made it to the bathroom.

Should he call your name? Probably not, as tempting as it was, you weren't really a lost child.

He caught a glimpse of you – your back turned to him whilst you talked to two other girls. He doesn't remember introducing you to them. Maybe you knew them already? He pushed the thoughts aside, walking over towards you.

He tapped your shoulder, “Y/N-” only to freeze in his stance when he saw ‘you’ turn around.

“Huh?” The amber-eyed woman looked Hobie up and down, her eyes sparkling. “Sorry, can I help you?” She spoke softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“Sorry love, thought you were somebody else.” He explained noticing her smile slip a little.

“Oh.” She murmured melancholy, plastering a fake smile on her face. Hobie nodded and quickly left before she could say anything else.

Something – Someone – suddenly slammed into his side, his hands reaching down and grabbing their waist to steady them.

He looked down, finding your hazy eyes melding with his, “you good?”

“Just a little… light-headed.” You reassured, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm unable to ignore the uneasiness in the back of your throat but you didn't see why he had to know that.

“You wanna get outta here?” Hobie suggested, watching you narrow your eyes at him before nodding and mumbling something he assumed was a yes.

He moved his hand up wrapping around your shoulder and leading you towards the elevator.

—

Ding.

The Elevator had reached the top, the metal doors sliding out revealing how the dark blue had taken over the sky, multiple glowing specks adorning the sky. What time was it? Where were you two going now? You wondered, your thoughts racing from one to another. At least they hadn't gone completely blank… yet.

Your body moved on its own — with the help of Hobie, of course. Otherwise you'd probably still be tossed around the crowd like a colorful toy among a group of children.

You'd rushed over dipped your head over a plant pot that busied the wall right next to the elevator when you reached it. Gagging and retching, expecting your half-digested lunch and almost 5 beers to make a quick reappearance but it never did.

“You feelin’ better?” The voice snapped you out of your musing.

“Nope,” you answered with a pop of the p. “I think… I think it's probably gotten worse actually.” Your answer was slow, trying to comprehend each syllable you spit out of your mouth.

“Eh, should've known better before dragging ya into a bar and making you chug beer.” He sighed, feeling you lean against him while he continued to steady your movement.

“Probably.”

“Definitely.”

“Did you enjoy at least?” Hobie asked, trying to make some good of the situation.

“Mhm.” You crooned, stumbling over your own foot but never making it to the floor. He twisted the door knob that probably would've broken down if the breeze of air was too fast. “So where do you live?”

“Eh… my apartment.” You answered.

He chuckled at your ominous answer, “and where would your ‘apartment’ be?”

Huh… your apartment? It was on street… Your thoughts went blank. Did you just forget where you fucking live? yes. Yes you did. But if you think hard enough– nope. nothing. Maybe you shouldn't have drank that much.

With how long you were silent for, Hobie realized the problem. “Ya forgot?”

“I forgot.”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @missshelleyduvall @hobieszeze

Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune

[lenniharrisonsims]

Three Year Anniversary Portraits!

Newcrest, Part VIII

The [SPOILER]

Name: Stefano Adrian Colona

Nickname: Stef

Title: [SPOILER]

Previous Names/ Titles: Prince Stefano Colona of Newcrest, Prince Consort Stefano Colona of The Sulani Independent Islands

Residence(s): [SPOILER]

Parents: Queen Adriana (Passed) & Prince Consort Alfonso Colona

Spouse: Chief Lilah Mahoe (Divorced), Justine Colona

Children: Princess Malie Mahoe, Princess Allinah Mahoe, & Damien Colona

Name: Justine Morgan Colona

Nickname: N/A

Title: [SPOILER]

Previous Names/ Titles: Miss Justine Boyd

Residence(s): [SPOILER]

Parents: Mr. Zackary Brock (Passed) & Miss Zoey Boyd

Spouse: Stefano Colona

Children: Damien Colona

Name: Damien Stephan Colona

Nickname: N/A

Title: [SPOILER]

Previous Names/ Titles: N/A

Residence(s): [SPOILER]

Parents: Stefano & Justine Colona, [SPOILER]

Spouse: N/A

Children: N/A

[littleoceanbabe]

ted lasso has been a fucking phenomenal show but if the writers completely fuck it up in the last episode i may have to quit cold turkey. or i will just pointedly entirely ignore the series finale and rewrite it myself.

[rosicheeks]

[inkskinned]

i think one of the reasons glass onion is so fun is that it just... loves the audience back.

so many popular movies and shows these days thrive on a sort of bitter engagement with their fans - where the fans are dismissed as being stupid, annoying, and needlessly angry. we are constantly positioned as being less intelligent as the writers.

so much of "spoiler-free" movie-making relies on writers getting away with one twist in their work, regardless of if that twist was earned. the work doesn't actually have any rewatch value or interesting writing - because they think "good writing" is about "pulling one over" on the audience. they don't focus on making interesting characters or storylines or good endings - they focus on fooling you. glass onion, meanwhile, has faith that the audience has figured the ending out, and that we'll watch anyway, because we love the characters.

so many adaptions of older works... kind of seem to hate the original work. they're done without passion. they're done almost as if checking off a box. so many of them openly mock the audience for enjoying the original, almost directly telling us that we are fools for ever having loved something.

but glass onion. loves the audience. it knows that many of the people watching are mystery-lovers. it is an homage that feels love towards the original works it references. it knows we also love those works; and instead of trying to disparage those works, it allows us to celebrate them.

one of my favorite things about it - and maybe why i found it so satisfying - is that this movie isn't trying to tell you it's the smartest, bestest, most-clever detective story. instead, it asks itself what is satisfying and exciting for the audience? and actually gives us that payoff. it's bright, colorful, and fucking fun.

just... more of this please. i'm very bored of nihilism and grittiness and "shock value" writing. put the love back in. let us love unironically. have your work say i love you too. thank you for sharing this story.

[blacktabbygames]

Slay the Princess Concept Art

We shared a bunch of concept art on Twitter today. Sharing it here, too, where you can find it all in one post. Post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution (or just play the game already if you haven't 😉)

Going to start with the first piece of concept art Abby drew for the game.

In the earliest stages of development, we toyed around with the concept of there being multiple "end game" forms of the Princess.

The initial outline, rather than being tied together by an overarching metanarrative, structured a full playthrough as a 5-6 chapter long, self-contained journey down a single route, determined by your decisions in chapter 1. Here's an alternative late-game form:

The idea of deviating end-game forms didn't lost for very long, though. As we explored the game's themes more deeply, it made the most sense for there to be a singular "true" form.

If your reality is shaped by subjectivity and perception, then the "truth" has to be what's left when that subjectivity is swept away. the Shifting Mound's final design feels like that initial truth for the Princess, though there's also another truth if you push back against her and press on into the final cabin.

We really liked this "void" design, and I played around with the idea of it being an intermediary to the final form. The "void" Princess would be what you saw upon encountering the final Princess without understanding your own truth, but once you had that understanding, you would see her as the Shifting Mound, as depicted in the game.

That gave way to the intermediary design of the SM being a sea of disembodied limbs, and we also took parts of both designs and incorporated them into the protagonist (particularly the wings.) You can see the eyes and feathers for this void form in the ending card of the original trailer below:

You can see extremely early concept art for the spectre (top), nightmare (top-right), stranger (left), beast (bottom) and ??? (right) as well!

The eyes became a motif in the Nightmare route (Paranoid's manifestation of the fear of being watched), but I also like to think of them as a part of The Long Quiet's truth. You are space and emptiness, but you're also that which observes those things, and it's your perceptions that give the Shifting Mound shape.

Anyways, on the note of the original original concepts for the game, the Princess was initially going to remain human for several loops before taking on more monstrous forms. Some concepts of that are below. Had to get Abby to tone down some of the more horrifically cartoonish designs because they creeped me out and I didn't want to romance them in a video game.

We had to hold our cards close to our chest in the non-metanarrative early drafts, which is part of why, even in the first demo, the cabin doesn't really change much in chapter 2. More room to subtly play with the concept of transformation over time.

There were a lot of reasons we moved in a different direction for the full release. The branching was unmanageably large to write, and the game felt like a slog to write.

Using an overarching narrative as a framing mechanism in the final version gave us a lot more freedom to explore wildly divergent ideas within routes while still driving the player towards the originally planned finale.

Anyways, now we've got some concept art for individual princesses. There's a lot more than this lying around somewhere, but it's all in sketchbooks, and we'll probably wait until we make an art book to show it off.

First is the tower, who really didn't change much at all. (She got a little thicker, I guess. All of the Princesses did)

Not a lot to say about her, other than the fact that we knew we wanted a set piece where she gets so big that the trees and cabin orbit around her.

The stranger went through many many redesigns over the course of development. Here, she was a "princess skin" filled with a hive of sentient bugs. The script wasn't working for me, though, so instead she became a peak behind the curtains without the necessary context to know her.

A lot of people ask how these earlier drafts of the Stranger route would have played out, and the answer is I can't tell you, because I couldn't figure out something worth writing.

The writing process for individual routes didn't really start with outlines or plot beats. Rather, the routes started from a theme and a relationship dynamic, and I organically found their outcomes by exploring actions within those themes, and then seeing if those passed Abby's editor brain.

Neither of us found actions we wanted to explore with those versions of the Stranger, at least actions that weren't a beat-by-beat retelling of chapter 1, which contained way too much variation to put on a single chapter 2 route.

If each princess examines a relationship formed by perception and first impressions, the Stranger examines one that's fundamentally unknowable. One where you've seen too much, too quickly.

An insect hive-mind pretending to be a person seemed like a good starting point, but it was too difficult to write any interactions that didn't immediately feel knowable, if still strange. So the final version of the Stranger was designed in such a way where her unknowability makes interacting with her on a human level fundamentally impossible, and you don't get to have a real conversation with her unless you satisfy extremely specific criteria.

Anyways next up is the razor's final form. We decided she needed more swords.

Hearts became an accidental motif very quickly in the development process, too. (The fact that it is only strikes to the heart that fell her in the demo was accidental, but it felt poetic so we extended it to the rest of the game.)

So on top of adding more swords, we made her heart visible. This is something we did with the fury as well, as a way of showing their emotional (and physical) vulnerability.

Here's an early version of the Adversary and what would eventually become the Eye of the Needle, back when she was still called the Fury. Originally her hair was going to be fire (as seen on the right), but it didn't feel right in its execution.

She's hit the gym since this concept art. Good for her :)

And we're going to end with the Beast, who at this point was called the Adversary. I think this was before the Witch was added? The Beast was originally designed to be a Questing Beast who lurked in the shadows, where you'd only see glimpses of her, and where each glimpse would make her appear to be a different animal. This was too difficult to execute, though we gave her a more chimera-like appearance in the final game.

This design was from when we still has the Voice of the Obsessed, and the route was going to be a more feral mirror of what eventually became the Adversary, but it felt too thematically similar while being less interesting, so we moved in the direction of making the Beast about consumption as a form of love.

Anyways, that's all we've got for you right now. Hope this was fun!

[haveihitanerve]

Okay but bruce being so against touch is like- enormously hilarious to me- especially because in canon he hates touch; except when its from his family. So just imagine-

Brucie Wayne at a gala, awkwardly going for a handshake instead of a hug. The crowd is cringing Brucie Wayne, half running backwards in an attempt to get away from a woman who is trying to get handsy at a dinner Brucie Wayne, tripping a waiter into another man who tried to wrap his arm around bruce (jason and dick will never let him live it down. Neither will alfred, but for different reasons)

Batman, ignoring Hal jordan when he asks for a high five Batman, dodging supermans super speed hugs like they're the plague Batman, glaring at anyone who gets too close at meetings and not so subtly moving away

But then….

Bruce, walking into a gala with one or many of his kids sitting on his shoulders Bruce, not hesitating to pick up his shorter kids when they are at an event and cant see Bruce, strolling into a WE meeting with two kids latched onto each leg

Batman, on a mission and Nightwing uses his shoulders as a spring board. Despite not giving warning and coming from behind, batman doesn't even twitch Batman, working side by side with Red Hood, when the vigilante laughs and elbows him in the stomach. Batman just smiles faintly and keeps working Batman, sitting and talking in a meeting when Spoiler limps in and unelegantly flops into his lap. He doesn't even flinch, just situates her better and keeps talking Batman, chatting with wonder woman when orphan just appears behind him, so quietly superman doesn't detect her, and taps batmans shoulder. Instead of jumping away or breaking her arm, he just pats the hand back absentmindedly. The league watches wide eyed Batman, calling Red Robin in for information and the young vigilante refusing to leave until the bat gives him his goodbye hug Batman, slinging an arm around Batgirls shoulder to whisper in her ear during a mission that makes her laugh Batman, walking into a JL meeting with Robin attached to the front of his suit like a koala, wrapping a supporting arm around his sidekick. 

Bruce, a walking junglegym for any and all of his kids

[zorobff]

how to disappear. (opla!zoro x fem!reader)

synopsis: joining luffy’s crew made you believe that you’d finally escaped your former pirate crew and nightmare of a captain for good. that is, until a certain butler starts looking a little too familiar. good thing zoro’s keeping a close eye on you.

warnings: opla spoilers (ep 3), some direct dialogue from opla, mentions of verbal/physical abuse, kuro is just a weirdo tbh, reader is called a bitch, protective zoro, for the sake of the story sham and buchie joined the black cat pirates after reader left

word count: 4.7k

“this guy is full of shit.”

you knock your shoulder into zoro’s wider one. “be nice. and so what if he is?” 

zoro gives you a pointed glare. “then we should turn around and look for someone who can actually help us find a ship.” 

“all business, as per usual,” you reply, with a purposefully dramatic sigh. “why can’t you have a little fun?” 

“what about this is supposed to be fun?” zoro spits out the word like it’s poisonous. “this is the blandest village i’ve ever seen.”

you scoff. “now you’re the one that’s full of shit. nothing’s ever bland with us and you know it.” 

the us in question was your newly formed pirate crew… if you and luffy could even be considered that. having left the ship you’d been on a few years ago, you were in search of a new crew. luffy was persistent and charming — when you’d crossed paths in shells town, it took little to no time for him to convince you to join his hunt for the one piece. zoro and nami, on the other hand, had yet to follow in your footsteps. 

“well, considering that we’ve only been traveling together for a day and a half and i’ve already escaped a marine base, defeated a marine captain, and fought a clown with devil fruit powers… i’d actually have to agree.” 

you can’t help but giggle at his sarcastic delivery. “be grateful, zoro. not many pirate crews are this fun to be on, trust me. oh wait, that’s right, you still haven’t officially joined—”

“tell me about your old pirate crew,” interjects zoro, your comment having piqued his interest. 

you notice that the playful atmosphere dissipates. “god, where do i even start?” 

zoro answers that for you. “why did you leave?”

“starting with the hard hitting questions, huh?” you joke, mostly to stall. you clear your throat before you answer. “well, it was different. nothing like what luffy has going on. he actually cares about his crew… and even those who aren’t technically on it.” 

at that, a smile tugs at the corner of zoro’s lips. even you crack a small grin. although as you continue speaking, it fades. 

“on my old crew, we were dispensable. anytime something went wrong, our own captain would threaten to kill us. it was… scary, to be completely honest. there were so many times when i thought i’d die with that filthy crew. and i never wanted that. so as soon as we docked at shells town, i left.”  

zoro’s jaw clenches as imagines the things you’d seen and been subjected to. “this old captain of yours sounds like a real—”

“he was a nightmare,” you tell him. “he didn’t care that i was the only woman on board, he treated me just as horribly, if not worse.” 

zoro stops so suddenly that it takes you a second to realize he’s not walking alongside you.

“what do you mean by that.” the way zoro phrases the inquiry doesn’t even make it sound like a question. more like a demand. his narrowed eyes are fixed solely on you. holding his gaze feels… intense. 

you can’t help but glance away as you answer him. “he was just a bit of a creep.”

before zoro has the chance to try and extract more information out of you, a familiar voice calls both your names. you’re not really sure when you and zoro had fallen behind but from where you currently stand, the rest of your group looks miniature. or perhaps it’s just the massive size of the mansion behind them that makes luffy, nami, and usopp look pocket-sized in comparison. 

“why’d you stop walking?!” your captain shouts, hands pressed on each side of his mouth to amplify his voice. “get over here, we’re about to go in through the top secret entrance!” 

you vaguely make out usopp gesturing for luffy to keep his voice down. you’re sure that would warrant another comment from zoro about his reliability but he’s too busy staring at you with that expectant look in his eyes. 

“we better catch up,” you tell him, heading in the direction of the deluxe home. 

he allows you to dodge the subject and sighs, walking in long strides to catch up to you.  

“i’ve never seen a house this big before,” luffy admits, admiring the mansion along with the wellkept greenery surrounding it. 

“awesome, right?” usopp gloats, walking around like he owned the place. “kaya’s given me an open invitation to drop by anytime i want.” 

“wow.” you’re not sure if luffy was just going along with usopp’s act or if he really believed him. knowing the devil fruit user, it was more than likely the latter. “all this for just one person?”

“well, she lives here with her butler and a few other staff,” usopp replies, leaning against the stone well that sat in the middle of the lawn.

“money really shows you who people truly are,” nami mutters, eyes scanning the property. “most people only care about themselves and what’s theirs.”

zoro is quick to throw the insult back at her. “sounds like someone i know.”

you roll your eyes at his comment, though you make no effort to disagree with him. nami was a little on the materialistic side. 

“and a small staff makes for easy pickings,” she continues, proving your point.

“we just got here and you’re already planning on robbing the place blind?” you ask though you already know the answer.

“at least a little blurry,” she smirks, following behind luffy and usopp who walk toward the entrance. 

you and zoro share a look. one that says disappointed but not surprised. 

going under a shrub shaped as an arch, you’re met with a beautiful pond. you admire the pink lilies that float at the top and the bushes that were intricately trimmed into the shape of various animals. even if the people that lived here were filthy rich, at least they had good decorative taste. 

“so if you have an invitation, why are we going around the back way?” luffy ponders.

usopp’s answer is nonchalant. “oh, i never use the front entrance. like i said, this is the vip entrance reserved for special guests.”

zoro scoffs. “this guy’s definitely–”

“don’t start,” you groan, cutting him off. 

abruptly, usopp freezes and spins around, attempting to usher your crew back. “you know what, there’s actually a more exclusive entrance this way–”

the sharp swoosh of a knife cutting through the air and burying itself in the ground between usopp’s feet cuts him off. from the direction the kitchen utensil was thrown stands a heavyset gentleman with his face wrinkled in anger. his demanding voice booms through the garden, “the hell are you doing here, usopp?” 

the dark-skinned boy fumbles over his word. “buchi, buddy, uh, kaya’s expecting me.”

“another one of your lies,” the man – seemingly named buchi – seethes, grabbing him by the collar. “you ain’t welcome here and you know it.”

“i know nothing of the sort,” usopp retorts, keeping his cool even when he was practically being lifted off the ground by his shirt. “i’m here to give kaya an extra special gift.”

before buchi can get another word out, a feminine voice calls out for your companion. coming down the steps is a frail looking girl in a pink dress. on her arm is a man dressed in a crisp suit, presumably the butler usopp had mentioned earlier. though, from where you stand you can’t see either of their faces too clearly. 

“what a wonderful surprise,” she exclaims, breathlessly. 

“kaya!” usopp exclaims, returning her enthusiasm. buchi has no choice but to let him go, begrudgingly. usopp makes sure to shoot him a smug look before walking towards the young girl. “happy birthday.” 

the butler clears his throat, not afraid to intrude on their special moment. “usopp, we’ve discussed this before. you mustn’t show up unannounced.” 

“nonsense, klahadore.” kaya smiles warmly. “have you come to tell me another story? i do love hearing about your adventures.” 

“i’ll do you one better,” usopp smirks with such confidence that even you’re left wondering what kind of surprise he has up his sleeve. “i brought some of my crew!” he gestures back towards the four of you, proudly. 

your excitement vanishes. “oh. the surprise is… us.”

“well, that’s boring,” luffy agrees, just as disappointed as you are. 

kaya, on the other hand, is none the wiser. “it’s so nice to meet you. you must all stay for dinner.” 

klahadore lowers his voice. “miss kaya, it is a bit last minute. i’m afraid the kitchen hasn’t prepared for any extra guests.”

“please,” begs kaya, softly. “it’s my birthday. can’t be too much trouble can it?” 

giving in, klahadore purses his lips. “anything for you, miss kaya.” 

luffy claps his hands together. “alright! when do we eat?” 

“you don’t. not dressed like that, at least.” the butler directs himself to a staff member with teal colored hair. “sham, kindly show usopp and his friends to the guest suites. you will bathe and change before dinner.”

she follows his orders and leads the way. luffy, usopp, nami, and zoro trail behind her and you go to do the same. however, all it takes is a quick glance to stop you dead in your tracks. usually, you weren’t one to stare but klahadore’s face. that stare. so dark and depraved. 

“yes, miss?” he asks, holding your gaze. “can i help you?” 

“n-no, i…” your throat goes dry as you attempt to recover smoothly. “i just wanted to, um, thank you for being so hospitable.” 

his lips curve upwards into a sinister grin. “the pleasure’s all mine.” as if to confirm your worst fear, klahadore uses his palm to readjust his glasses. his beady eyes gauge your reaction closely.

the familiar gesture sends chills down your spine. appearance-wise, he had changed drastically but his aura was still just as menacing as you remember it. he was still the corrupt pirate captain you used to serve under. you feel like a weak and helpless subordinate all over again.

“klahadore!” giggles kaya. “you’re smiling! that’s certainly a rarity.”

he hums. “i’ve simply come to the realization that having guests once in a while can truly be a delight.”

his sickeningly sweet tone makes your stomach turn. just the fact that you were standing in front of him – captain kuro – again after all these years was nauseating in itself. last you’d heard he had died at the hands of captain morgan. how was this even possible? then again, he wasn’t dubbed kuro of a hundred plans for no reason. he always had a trick or two up his sleeve. you assumed this was no different. 

“hey, you comin’?”

you turn around to see zoro waiting for you. he meets your gaze for a moment. the softness of his eyes is a stark contrast to kuro’s. it’s a breath of fresh air. he then shifts his attention to your former captain and you swear his eyes darken. 

“yeah, sorry,” you mumble, trying not to look shaken as you walk up the steps. 

zoro follows behind you, this time closer than before.

“why would anybody even need this many clothes?”

“it’s not about need with these people, luffy. it’s about want,” nami spits, thumbing through the various fabrics on the wall. 

“at least she’s rich and nice,” luffy replies, innocently.

nami rolls her eyes. “yeah, letting us stay for dinner must be her idea of charity work.” 

“what are we even supposed to wear?” luffy continues, uninterested in nami’s criticism of the rich. 

“anything you want. when are you ever going to get the opportunity to wear things this nice?” 

you step out from behind the changing board where you’d swapped out your old tee and cargo skirt for an elegant satin dress. it was a stunning shade of olive green and frilly lace decorated the edges. not to mention, it hugged your curves in all the right ways.

nami’s eyes widen. “see, she’s got the right idea. you look amazing.” 

you smile, bashfully. “honestly, i feel amazing.”

“you look the same to me,” your captain shrugs.

nami shoots him a death glare but you intervene before she can scold him.

“way to keep me humble, luffy.”

“no problem!” 

at that exact moment, a freshly showered zoro arrives donning a silk robe. he eyes the multitude of garments that cover every inch of the room, not particularly impressed. 

“there you are. don’t you think she looks nice?” nami asks him, gesturing towards you. she doesn’t notice how you shrink under zoro’s gaze. neither does he, as his eyes take their time raking over you, from top to bottom.

he hums. “suits you.” with that, he sets off towards a chair in the corner of the room.  

“seriously?” sighs nami, exasperated. “are you two physically unable to give compliments or something?” 

“hey, doesn’t that butler seem familiar to you guys?” zoro asks, promptly ignoring nami’s complaint. 

his question causes your breath to hitch. you’d pushed the kuro problem to the back of your mind while you were in search of a suitable dinner outfit. you figured that as long as your crew was by your side, he wouldn’t dare try anything. and even if he did… well, you’d seen what had happened to axe-hand morgan and buggy. 

“yeah, i think he was at the last dinner party i attended,” nami replies sarcastically, taking a handful of dresses behind the changing board. 

as he takes a seat, zoro grumbles, “i swear i’ve seen him before.” 

“where?” you can’t help but ask, fiddling with the lace on the neckline of your dress. 

“so far, i’ve got two suspicions. a wanted poster or funky bar on mirrorball island. you ever been?”

you know zoro’s teasing you, judging by the grin on his face. after all, funky bar was known to get insanely rowdy; never would he imagine finding someone as gentle as you there. but what he didn’t know is that it happened to be one of kuro’s favorite bars. per his request, you and the rest of the black cat pirates frequented it often, so he was more than likely right about having seen kuro there. he’d probably even seen you in passing, once or twice. thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have any recollection of that.

the thought of zoro knowing about your past forms a knot in the pit of your stomach. would he think less of you for having joined such a ruthless crew at one point in your life? what if it put a strain on the friendship you’d worked so hard to form? 

“i’ve, uh, heard of it,” you decide to reply, pushing down your worries for the time being. 

he tilts his head slightly, thinking out loud. “then again, i have seen a lot of wanted posters and bars in my time as a pirate hunter.”

you feel a grin creep onto your face. “probably more bars than posters, huh?”

zoro mirrors your smile. “shut up.”

by the time dinner rolls around, the entire crew is doing what they do best. 

luffy is stuffing his face, nami is attempting to swindle one of the staff, zoro is hanging by the drinks, and you’re hanging by zoro. 

“hey zoro, you gotta try this!” luffy calls through a mouthful of food.

“i’ve got all i need right here,” he mutters, taking a swig out of his champagne flute. 

“you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you choke down something that isn’t alcohol,” you comment, watching the way he downs the glass in one go. 

dryly, he replies, “that’s because i haven’t.”

“very on brand.”

“ladies and gentlemen,” calls out that voice from the top of the stairs. “may i present… miss kaya.”

arm in arm, kuro and kaya walk down the steps, all eyes on the birthday girl and her stunning gown. well, except you. your eyes never leave the so-called butler by her side. your jaw clenches when he has the audacity to meet your gaze and hold it. shameless bastard. 

once they reach the bottom, merry leads kaya to the guests while kuro takes his post at the bottom of the stairs… right next to the drink table. before you can think about steering yourself and zoro away, kuro speaks.

“forgive me if i am speaking out of line, madam, but i must inform you. you look positively radiant,” he purrs, soaking in your appearance. he looks ready to pounce.

you can’t stop your eyes from rolling. good to know he’s the same pervert he used to be.

looking between you both and sensing your discomfort, zoro steps in. “and you look familiar.” 

kuro’s head stiffly turns to face him, eyes peeling away from you. “highly doubtful, sir.” 

“funky bar? mirror ball island?” 

“funky bar?” kuro repeats, disgusted. “well, i can assure you i’ve never patronized that type of establishment.” 

while it was amusing to see your highly esteemed former captain lie through his teeth, the tension between him and zoro was unbearable. 

“well then.” zoro continues with his little interrogation. “ever been on a wanted poster?”

you cringe at his bluntness. sometimes it seemed like he had less of a filter than luffy.

kuro puts on a scandalized face at the question. “sir! such an accusation is highly offensive.” tugging on his collar, he goes to remove himself from zoro’s probing. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to help prepare the dinner table.” 

he leaves, en route to the dining room. zoro’s eyes follow his figure until he disappears, squinting as he racks his brain for any further recollection of this suspicious butler. 

you sigh. if zoro was going to continue being so relentless, you were sure the night would end in bloodshed and uncovered secrets. 

“keep this coming,” zoro demands, handing the empty wine bottle to sham. she takes it with a glare. 

“would it kill you to say please?” you ask, slicing the slab of fish on your plate into smaller pieces.

“the service here is shitty. why should i have to be polite?” 

you scowl. “remind me to never have dinner with you again.”

zoro turns to you with that cocky grin of his. “what if i asked nicely?” 

his quip makes your heart flutter but you manage to keep your composure. “you can try your luck.” 

before he can respond, usopp speaks up. “luffy, isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to kaya about?” 

luffy gesticulates enthusiastically with his fork. “oh, yes! usopp told me that you own the whole shipyard.” 

“well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard and merry’s been running the business since they… passed. but all that’s about to change. tonight, at midnight, i will become the sole owner.” she smiles somberly. 

“well, that’s great,” luffy says, raising his drink at her. “because we want to buy a ship from you.” 

“ah, i see. usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.” 

“nope, not sailors. we’re pirates!”

you’re certain at least three people at the table choke on their food, yourself included. 

“this ought to be good,” zoro mumbles behind his glass.

you’re too busy coughing into your napkin to chastise him for finding this entertaining.

“pirates?” kaya repeats, unsure of how to react. 

“yup! we haven’t sailed together for very long but we’ve already defeated an evil clown, raided a marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe! for a hand!” luffy holds up a fist, presumably to impersonate axe-hand morgan.

“sounds a lot like your adventures, usopp,” kaya says, turning to the brunette.

all he can do is laugh dryly. “yeah, that’s… that’s crazy.” 

“and we’re just getting started!” luffy continues, climbing up onto the table.

“someone put me out of my misery,” you mumble, looking down at your plate to ignore the secondhand embarrassment.

a tap on your shoulder answers your plea.

turning around, you find yourself face to face with kuro once again. “madam, a word please?”

“might i ask what for?” zoro cuts in before you can so much as think of a response.

kuro offers him the most forced grin you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing. “i’m afraid that is between the lady and i.”

the swordsman turns to you, scanning your face for any ounce of discomfort. “you okay with that?”

you inhale, figuring it was finally time for you to confront the darkest part of your past. it was silly to assume you would be able to ignore him throughout your entire stay here. besides, you were sure zoro, just like the rest of your crew, would be on standby if kuro got brave enough to try anything. “sure. just… keep an eye out.”

zoro understands completely. truthfully, you didn’t even need to ask – he always looked after you. “got it.”

you push yourself out of your seat and smooth out your dress. you allow kuro to lead you to the doorway – he was smart enough to know that was the farthest you’d let him take you. 

“what do you want, klahadore?” you seethe, folding your arms.

he arches a brow. “why must you call me that? it’s ridiculous.” 

you tilt your head with faux innocence. “oh? is that not your name? must have misheard.”

he gives you an irritated look, dark eyes drilling into you.

“i remember that look,” you mutter, your memory serving you well. “it’s the same one you’d give me before you’d threaten to slice me to bits with your claws.”

kuro has the audacity to chuckle dryly. “but i never did, did i? although there were certainly times times where i should’ve.”

“what you should be is dead,” you hiss bitterly. “when i heard the news, i knew it was too good to be true.”

“you wound me, kitten,” he drawls, reaching up to fix his glasses. 

the condescending nickname makes your skin crawl. it carried so many awful memories of your time spent with the black cat pirates. it reminded you of just how weak kuro viewed you — nothing but a helpless, pitiful kitten in his eyes. typical of the man that abused his authority and treated you with not a single ounce of respect. 

he continues, putting on a sweet tone. “after all these years, stuck waiting hand and foot on that spoiled brat, there’s nothing i’d love more than to hear my favorite crew mate say my real name.”

you snap at him. “i’m no crew mate of yours.”

he sighs, dramatically. “sadly, you’re correct. after all, you did slip off the ship the moment we docked in shells town. locating you on an island crawling with marines proved to be nearly impossible. we had no choice but to leave without you.”

“that’s exactly why i chose to escape there.” 

“and to this day i can’t for the life of me figure out why you would ever do that. why would you want to leave us? leave me?”

you actually laugh right in his face. “is it really that hard to figure out? you were evil. you threatened and harassed me on a daily basis.”

“so your solution was to join that ragtag crew?” he glances at the table. “it’s pathetic, even for you.”

you lean into his face, lowering your voice down. “i’m happier than i ever was on your shitty crew. every day i wake up grateful that i managed to escape you.”

you see that vein on his forehead bulge before he’s gripping you by the chin. “listen here, you little bitch–”

the shiny silver of a sword slides between you and kuro, coming to rest against his neck. his adam’s apple bobs as he gulps anxiously, releasing you. thanks to zoro’s sword, it seemed as if he finally remembered where he was. you were no longer on his ship, he was no longer allowed to treat you like the dirt he walked on. not without someone noticing, that is. 

“why don’t you step away?” zoro offers simply.

that much was a kindness. usually those who found themselves on the end of zoro’s blade(s) weren’t lucky enough to receive a warning. however, the swordsman didn’t wish to cause a scene. at least not when you were right there and everyone was watching with shock from the dinner table.

kuro obliges, stumbling back. he meets kaya’s horrified eyes, feeling ashamed that he allowed his act to slip. surely this would cause some setbacks in his plan. with no excuse for his uncharacteristic behavior, the raven haired man scurries away and up the stairs.

zoro turns and locks eyes with luffy, giving him one singular nod. luffy returns it, jumping out of his seat and going after the butler. quiet murmuring breaks out at the dinner table, everyone surely confused. 

sheathing his sword, zoro directs his attention to you once more. “are you alright?” a calloused hand comes up to grip your chin, much like kuro had. however, this time, the touch is gentle. loving, almost. you welcome it.

“yeah, i’m… fine.” your heart is beating out of your chest and it has everything to do with your close proximity to zoro.

he tilts your face around, inspecting every inch of it. once he finishes, he pulls back. his demeanor goes serious once more. “we need to have a talk.”

you nod. “i know. i’ve been keeping some things from you guys and–”

“just tell me what’s been going on,” he demands. “and don’t overcomplicate it. you can be straightforward with me.”

his sincerity makes you start over, this time far more candidly. “klahadore used to be a pirate. i was part of his crew. he was my… captain.”

the shame in your voice pulls at zoro’s heartstrings. didn’t you know there was no reason to feel guilty with him? “is that it?” 

you open your mouth to speak but come up empty. all you can do is furrow your eyebrows at his unexpectedly dismissive reaction.

“i knew it,” zoro continues, annoyed. “i knew i’d seen him on a wanted poster before. just didn’t have any proof.”

“wait, so you don’t– you really don’t care?” you ask, still avoiding eye contact. “me being a former black cat pirate doesn’t bother you?”

he shrugs. “you said it yourself. ‘former.’ all that matters is that you got the hell out of there. and away from that creep. would he always put his hands on you like that?”

you blink a couple times, sighing. “his temper was really bad so–”

that seemed to be enough for zoro. “i’ll kill the bastard,” he hisses. “wanted to slice him to bits the moment i saw him grab you.” 

though it’s a violent threat, you can’t help but smile. the idea of zoro being so protective that he’d kill a man just for touching you made you blush. pirate love language, you suppose.

“well, i wouldn’t have stopped you,” you tell him, more than ready to see your former captain go.

zoro clicks his tongue. “nah. could’ve stained your new dress with his blood. i never would have been able to forgive myself.”

“so you do have a soft spot,” you tease.

“only for pretty things.”

“do you mean me or the dress?” 

now it’s zoro’s turn to become bashful. though, his lack of response is an answer in itself. you can’t help but giggle. 

a loud bang from upstairs interrupts your moment with the green-haired man. you assume luffy had gotten his hands on kuro… or vice versa. zoro must be thinking the same thing judging by the way he instinctively rests a hand on the handle of his blade.

“you should go up there,” you tell him. “i’ll stay with kaya.”  

he gives you a nod, though he doesn’t make any effort to leave. he stands there like he wants to say something… or do something. before you can think about it too much, you pull him in by the collar and crash your lips onto his. they’re slightly chapped and taste like the wine that’d come from the cellar – it’s pleasant. his large palms come to rest on your lower back; his hold feels tight and secure. 

when you finally allow yourself to pull away, you’re biting back a smile. “kick his ass for me.” 

“will i get more of that if i do?” asks zoro, wetting his lips. they now taste like the cherry lip gloss you’d borrowed from kaya. he takes a step forward, attempting to close the gap between you two once more.

you shrug, pushing him away by the chest. “go help luffy and we’ll see.”

you both know that means yes.

[roseykat]

TITLE: Play Bite

PAIRING: Hyunjin x Jisung x female reader

SUMMARY: You, Hyunjin, and Jisung have a really fun time playing a dirty truth or dare game after the plans for everyone to go out failed. Part 1 to the 'Play' series.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

Part 1 - Play Bite Part 2 - Play Fight Part 3 - Play Right

TAGS: Hyunjin, Jisung, and reader have all consumed alcohol but are not fully drunk, smut, kissing, hickies, making out, dirty texts, dirty talk, erotic truth or dares, use of pet names such as 'bub', 'baby' and 'pretty', swearing, food play (nothing heavy), solo orgasm, female masturbation, suggestive material, very vague mentions of choking (not emphasised), slight traces of top!Jisung.

MASTERLIST

A/N: Think of this as a prelude to this hard thought I posted a while ago. If you haven't read it, it will give you some context into what will come in the future for this type of concept. Also just to preface but not give away too many spoilers, nobody is cheating in this story.

-

“Remove one piece of clothing, socks do not count,” Jisung reads aloud from the card in his hand. 

It’s the third task into the deck of dirty truth or dare at Hyunjin's apartment. After the entire group’s plan to go out for the night fell through when it started pelting down, it was in all three of your guys’ best interests to not waste the night. So, although he invited the rest of the group over for drinks, only you and Jisung decided to go around. 

An hour later into the night and already just past the point of tipsy, the three of you progressed to playing games. A set of dirty truth or dare cards was the first thing that caught Jisung’s keen eye as he analysed the plethora of games that Hyunjin had on a shelf in his living room. 

“You’re not even wearing socks, so you have no choice,” Hyunjin chuckles, almost evilly.

Jisung dons his best thinking face, eyes narrowing as he tries to come up with which item of clothing he wants to take off. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the entire fabric up and over his head before placing it beside him, careful not to knock over his drink. 

Your eyes glue to his gorgeous bare top half for a few seconds too long before averting them to the floor like you weren’t supposed to look at him. It’s not like you’ve never seen him topless before in all of his honey toned glory. Almost always will Jisung proudly walk around half naked unprovoked when you’re around him. 

“Your turn bub,” he continued.

You clear your throat then lean over to pick a card up from the middle, then read it out loud, “oh…”

“What’s it say?” Jisung peeks his head over to see what’s written down before his jaw unhinges. “Let the person to your left select an area of your body for them to give you a hickey. Wow.”

Hyunjin, to your left, stares back at you in shock and horror. His cheeks were ballooned and full of liquid after taking a large swig of his drink before setting it down. The more silent seconds that tick by, the more flips his stomach keeps doing. But, he had to expect the unexpected with this game.

You and Jisung were ready to play by the rules and Hyunjin wasn’t going to exempt himself from it just because of the card you pulled. 

He swallows the mouthful of alcohol, “alright. Are you okay with me doing this?”

You nod even though you can feel your heart picking up its pace, “I am.”

He takes your answer and runs with it then ponders on the best place to plant a hickey on your body. It doesn’t take him long to think of a number of unspoken places where he would and even though he’s tipsy enough to disclose those areas, he decides to keep that to himself. 

“Okay, can you lie down for me then?” He asks. 

“Lie down?”

“Mm, otherwise it might be awkward to reach,” he explains vaguely. 

You start jumping to conclusions at the instant you hear his request, yet your mind is so hazy that your body just ends up listening to what Hyunjin has asked of you instead. You end up lying back on the floor, your head next to Jisung’s thigh who looks down at you while Hyunjin moves. 

His long body straddles yours but not fully putting his weight down on you. With his hand, he pulls back some of your hair so he can reach the area he wants before gently tilting your chin up and to the side towards Jisung. 

Hyunjin then sinks his face down just to the side of your throat and sucks. For a second, your body squirms at the slight achy pang that he brings to the surface of your skin. Still, with the way that your body is buzzing, it undoubtedly feels amazing. He remains there for a few seconds and uses his tongue to swipe over the surface he just marked.  

Jisung watches with his mouth ajar. He takes in the contorted look of concentration on your face, the way your eyelids flutter closed. 

It’s not long after until Hyunjin peels himself off of you then takes your hand to help you sit back up again. In hindsight, you wonder if it was all but necessary to lie down for him in order to give you a hickey. But Hyunjin’s thinking was that to reach your throat, you had to be on the ground. 

“That might’ve been-“ his face contorts with worry just looking at the fresh, deep and reddish mark. “A bit much, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you respond, trying to act cool under the pressure. “It felt nice anyway. Okay, Hyunnie’s turn.” 

He draws another card, reading it in his mind before his eyes dart to Jisung, “make out…with the person beside you for one minute.”

“W-Which side?” You ask. 

“My left which is-“

“Me,” Jisung responds, pointing at his chest. “Alright then.”

Hyunjin stares blankly at his friend, unsure if he's joking or not, “wait, you’re…you’re serious?”

Jisung shifts his body closer to Hyunjin, his face nearing him, “that’s the game right?”

“Y-Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “Yeah, okay then.”

“I can set a timer,” you announce.

He’s never done this before - kissed a friend, made out with a friend. For one, Hyunjin knows Jisung has done so multiple times, having been an impartial witness to it. Whether it was while Jisung was drunk, sober, high, it happened. Even with the same gender. 

“Alright,” you say, pulling out your phone as you go to the clock app to set a timer for one minute and place it on the ground. “3, 2, 1, go.”

You’re not sure who it was first that leaned in for the kiss after being so warped by the fact that they were even doing this. It was like Hyunjin offered his mouth and Jisung went for the kill. Both of them started off slowly by the time ten seconds hit. Twenty seconds in and Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the side of his friends’ face when the kiss deepens even further. 

You watch the glide of their tongues move so languidly with one another, doing unspeakable things in between your legs. Similar to Jisung’s reaction when Hyunjin gave you a hickey, your mouth was on the floor. There’s no way in hell could you ignore how hot it was to see them make out. 

After forty seconds, the pace had picked up a notch as they continued to move in sync with one another. Jisung’s hand had made it onto Hyunjin’s lap with some unintentional plan of slowly hiking up his thigh. In his mind, the more touch, the better. He already felt floaty because of the alcohol. Now Jisung touching him, kissing him, was an enhancement. 

At the mark of one minute, your phone rudely blares its alarm. Hyunjin pulls away with red lips, Jisung’s as equally as glossy as the other. They stall for a second, almost as if they briefly thought about going back at it again…

“Minho was right,” Jisung breaks the silence willingly. “You are a pretty good kisser.”

“What?” Hyunjin exclaims, his eyes almost popping out of his head. 

“What?” He whines. “He and I were trying to figure out who in the group would be the best kisser. Minho reckons you are.”

“You say that as if you’ve kissed everyone in the group to try and find that out,” You realise. 

“Well I just kissed him, so it’s everyone except for you now. Which there’s still time for since it’s my turn now,” he responds in a slightly hopeful tone and picks up his next card. “Huh, maybe not - what’s the most amount of times you’ve had sex in one day?” 

“Is that the first truth question?” Hyunjin points out, trying to subtly keep himself calm after what just went down with Jisung. 

“I think so,” you reply. “We’re nowhere near halfway through the deck.” 

“Three and a half,” Jisung answers. 

“And a half?” You and Hyunjin parrot in unison, the confusion very present in both of your tones.

“Halfway through the act, got caught, had to wrap it up and leave,” Jisung explains very succinctly. “It would’ve been four if it weren’t for fucking Seungmin. Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m holding a grudge or anything.”

“Sure,” you trail off, trying your best not to laugh at his misfortune while you go to pick up a card. “Uh, lend your phone to the person on your right and let them send a dirty text to someone in your contacts.”

Jisung claps excitedly, “hand it over baby!” 

You roll your eyes, reluctantly passing him your device, “anyone except my family otherwise I probably won’t live to see another day.” 

He takes your phone earnestly with a cheeky and devious expression before delving righteously into your contacts list, “don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

Jisung’s thumb scrolls excitedly trying to find the right person to send the right message to. He pauses over a couple of names and then finds one he thinks will give the most entertaining response. He creates a new message and types in what he wants to say.  

From You: I’m horny. Come over and fuck me.

The silence was palpable as the fate of your dignity rests in your friends’ hands. Once the message is sent, Jisung keeps your phone on standby while you all wait for the response. The sheer riskiness of the dare calls for you to pick up your drink and finish the rest off, knowing that you’re going to need it. 

“What did you write?” You ask him anyway, setting your empty glass aside. 

He looks smugly at the screen again and repeats what he created, “I’m horny, come over and fuck me.”

Your eyes widen in horror, “t-that’s not…who did you send that to!?”

“That’s a bit straightforward isn’t it?” Hyunjin laughs. 

“Doesn’t matter now, your turn, go,” Jisung nods to you.

“Fine,” you groan, snatching up a card. “How many times a day do you get off? Once, maybe twice. Done. Next, you go.” 

Hyunjin blinks in surprise at the information you so rapidly provided and leans into the circle to grab his card, “alright. Choose one person to sit in between your legs for the remainder of the game.” 

“I think considering that he and I just made out, it’s your turn to do something now,” Jisung smoothly contends his point before you could even get a word out. 

“Fair enough,” you respond coolly.

The move is practically childsplay in comparison to what they’ve done so far. Nonetheless, it quickly proved itself to be rather effective on your body. 

Hyunjin tries not to grin and spreads his legs for you to slot perfectly in between them. You’ve been this close to him before - in a hug at least. But never has Hyunjin been as acutely intimate with you as of right now. As he’s pressed up behind you, it’s hopeless to try not to be so affected by such subtlety. The warmth from his body glows like a heater onto your back and the steadiness of his breathing is comforting. 

“Sungie’s turn,” he says from behind you. 

Another card is taken from the deck and Jisung reads once more, “feed someone a food item with your mouth. Okay, but what kind of food?” 

“There’s that bowl of grapes just there on the coffee table,” Hyunjin points over to it. 

Jisung spins around on the floor and sees the assortment of snacks that they had laid out on the table earlier on. He turns back with the entire silver bowl in his lap, popping a couple of them in his mouth and eating away to his heart's content before proceeding with the dare. 

“You’re breathing heavy,” Hyunjin whispers teasingly in your ear while Jisung isn’t looking. 

“S-Shut up,” you utter back to him, trying not to act so utterly embarrassed by the truth he’s managed to highlight. 

Jisung pops in two more grapes and goes to sit beside you before talking with his mouth full, “bo’ o’ ya.”

“Huh?” Hyunjin retorts, trying to decipher what his friend is saying. 

You ponder for a second, “I think he said both of us?” 

Your guess comes up as correct because without a proper verbal answer from Jisung, his actions spoke louder. He leans towards your face first - closer than it has ever been since you’ve known him. The purple grape sits between his teeth as he goes to pass it to you by his mouth. It was awkward to manoeuvre at first, but the pair of you discovered that using your lips is key. By that point, Jisung manages to exchange the fruit as you crush down on the grape that explodes with such a sweet flavour. 

Then, he moves a bit behind you to reach Hyunjin. Both of them struggle to pass the grape without fully touching each other's lips once more. Then again, that was the point of the card that Jisung pulled. 

“Yummy?” he asks, sliding back to his original spot with the bowl. 

“Mm,” Hyunjin hums while he chews. “Sweet.” 

Half of the stuff that you’ve done so far with them makes you realise that you’re not that nervous to do these kinds of things. It could’ve been the alcohol, that definitely helps. But also because they’re two of your best friends and wherever they are, you feel safe in their proximity. 

“My turn,” you say as Jisung picks the top card off of the deck and slides it to you across the floor. “Oh - same as Sungie’s, remove a piece of clothing, socks do not count. Isn’t this just a forfeit card since it’s already been picked up?”

“No, not necessarily?” Hyunjin answers. “Plus, what if you forfeit that one and pick another one but it’s worse?”

He had a good point. It was a very mellow dare in comparison to the others you’ve all completed. With that in mind, your hands find their way down to your shorts, contemplating whether to take them off or not. Considering Jisung already has his top off, you went for the opposite in a sudden spur of confidence that was short lived when you saw the look on your friend's face. 

Jisung’s eyes couldn’t leave where your hands moved as you freed your legs from the fabric, allowing you to remain in your underwear. However, it becomes very apparent to you that taking your pants off wasn’t such a good idea when you know that you’re wet. Whether they knew it, particularly Jisung who had a full view of you, was too late. 

Behind you, Hyunjin was trying to keep himself calm as you moved around a bit, “w-who’s turn is it now?” 

Jumping onto a different topic gave time for Jisung to blink away from your body. He feels guilty for even staring at you like that in the first place. Then again, it’s not like you weren’t doing the same ever since he took his shirt off. 

“Yours actually,” you answer and without any spatial awareness whatsoever, you lean forward just a bit to pick up a card for Hyunjin that your ass slightly pushes back into his crotch in the process. 

After the fact of the matter, you realise what you’ve done. But it wasn’t intentional. You just wanted to pick up a card for him so that he didn’t have to move from behind you. As you come back to sit between his legs properly, you feel his forehead rest against the back of your head - a silent sign to prove he definitely recognised what you did to him.

Although he didn’t say anything because what was there to say to that? In hindsight, it might’ve been better forJisung to just read it out for Hyunjin. 

“H-Here,” you offer the card to him, playing it off. 

He lifts his head back up from yours and takes the item, “what is your dirtiest fantasy and why?” 

Right now if Hyunjin was able to answer honestly, he would say ‘fucking you while his best friend watches.’ But even for a filthy game that they’re playing, he thought it would be inappropriate to say. On top of that, it’s not actually his dirtiest fantasy. He could do way worse but just doesn’t know what at this point in time in his sex life. There was still time for him to explore…

“I haven’t really got one at the moment,” says Hyunjin. “I suppose just real…rough sex.” 

Jisung immediately becomes intrigued, oblivious to the fact that Hyunjin had it in him to admit such a scandalous piece of information, “what does that mean to you though?”

He becomes even more flustered under the heat of his friends’ question, it doesn’t help that he’s nearly fully hard behind you either, “it means things like…choking or hair pulling-”

“What…you like to do those things or those things being done to yo-

“Both, I like both. Anyway, that’s not the question,” Hyunjin interrupts impatiently. “Just move on.” 

It’s difficult for you not to laugh at him, yet as you go to pick up a card - more carefully this time for Hyunjin’s sake - your smile fades quicker than you could blink. Not one doubt crossed your mind about how obscene this game could get. Yet this card refuted all of that. 

“I…get…get yourself off in front of someone,” you mumble in a very quiet voice.

“Get what?” Jisung tries to reiterate. 

Hyunjin’s brows knit in concentration as he reads the card from over your shoulder, “she has to get herself in front of someone.”

An ‘o’ forms in Jisung’s mouth before he responds to that statement, “that’s a…an interesting card.” 

The three of you fall deathly silent to the weight that the dare has you under. Your mind wants you to do it, to satiate that instinctual appetite to pleasure yourself ever since the game heated up. To do so in front of your friends doesn’t appear to be a bad idea which technically it isn’t from the way they already have you unintentionally wet. That in itself said a lot.

Therefore, you spread your legs and bend your knees. 

An expression of realisation washes over Jisung, coming to grips with what’s about to unfold. As for Hyunjin, he can only sit and remain in place as a support for you to lean against when your hand slips down the front of your underwear as you begin to rub. A sigh of warm relief then pushes past your lips. The pads of your fingers collect your damp essence to use as you circle over your clit. 

Already, a hefty volume of pressure is escalating in the pit of your tummy, tingling and spreading throughout your lower half. All from being turned on by the game. The person in front of you and behind you feel the exact same way except the one behind you was already there a long time ago. Their cocks fill out against the inside of their thighs and Hyunjin is positive that you can feel him through his pants. 

“Y/N,” Jisung says. “Does that make you feel good?”

“Jisung,” Hyunjin warns him sharply, not wanting his friend to fuel the fire that’s burning. 

“Mm, y-yes,” you stutter, breath catching at the base of your throat the more you try and push yourself towards an edge. 

It could be better though. It could be the pair of them groping and teasing your body at their will. You know that they both know how to use their mouths with the way that they made out earlier on. Not to mention from the grapevine, you’ve heard about Jisung too; how he knows how to eat pussy. Then you have Hyunjin, who just exposed his fantasy of liking having rough sex. The possibilities with his ideas would be endless and fun. 

With the pair of them, you don’t think you would ever run out of orgasms. Just thinking about it makes your fingers speed up, becoming increasingly more wetter. Your muscles jerk every now and then when you inch closer to the tail end of your orgasm, which causes you to unintentionally move against Hyunjin’s crotch once more. 

“Y/N,” Hyunjin breathes out against you. 

“Don’t touch her,” Jisung snaps. “This is her dare.”

“I-I’m not fucking touching her,” he presses back madly, then mutters just to himself as he hides behind you. “Can’t help it Jisung.”

“K-Keep watching…” you plead. “So…close.” 

Hyunjin’s nails are digging deep into the carpet beneath him and his restraint not to touch you teeters dangerously on the last millimetre of a cliff. He’s throbbing, achingly hard. For you. Jisung can see his friends' knuckles turning white but he understands. He too remains hard in his sweats, which was obvious to you. Even just the slight outline that you can see indicates to you that he’s big.

Your mind starts wondering what that sort of length would do to your body, how would it feel to have inside of you? As you ask yourself those questions, you try to imagine that sensation when you start fingering yourself. 

You whimper pathetically, curling over that sweet spongy spot, “yes, feels so good. Makes me wanna cum…” 

“Yeah? Gonna cum in front of us?” Jisung eggs you on. “Gonna make yourself cum just for us?

Your dozy eyes lock with him just for a few seconds before you nod against Hyunjin’s body, “j-just for you both.” 

“F-Fuck,” Hyunjin squeezes his eyes tight shut, gritting his teeth so much that his jaw aches. 

As that familiar euphoric bliss catches up to you, a silent scream paints over your face while your eyelids clamp shut and your eyebrows are furrowed together, focusing on the pleasure. For a moment, you’ve forgotten that Hyunjin is behind you as you can’t help but shiver helplessly against his body from the waves of your orgasm. Quiet yet very audible moans ring throughout Hyunjin’s apartment, making themselves known as you gradually come down with heavy gasps. 

“Holy shit,” Jisung murmurs in awe, he can see that you’ve soaked through your underwear. 

The large wet and sticky patch makes him want to lurch forward, tear the piece of clothing from your body and taste you for himself. To have his face buried in between your legs would be the Atlantis of his own fantasy right now, to have you use his mouth and tongue until you’re cumming all over again. 

In the moments of quiet when the still air is filled with nothing but your staggered breathing and depleted whimpers as you try to collect yourself, your phone buzzes on Jisung’s thigh - the reply to the dirty text he sent from earlier on.

He looks down at the glowing bright screen and his jaw drops to the floor once more. His mind sobers quickly.

From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x

There was no way.

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[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 7

Danny sees a 30 minute video in his recommendations titled: Why Red Robin and Phantom should never meet, and honestly? The more he watches the more he immediately wants to fly to New Jersey and declare Red Robin and Spoiler his new friends

Tim sees the same video and is losing his mind cause this is how he learns about the Anti ecto acts and about a Lazarus hell portal being open in a small city in Illinois for two years without the JL knowing anything!

He needs to save this guy before he gets himself...okay. Maybe its a little late for that but his point still stands!

It has nothing to do to him liking how many unhinged situations him and Phantom could get away with. Nothing!

RR could hardly believe it when Phantom showed up on his patrol a few nights later, offering to give him a tour of the ghost zone (at least what Danny had mapped out already) in return for some assistance against Vlad, the GIW, the Fentons and help him get Danny and Jazz Fenton rights to thiwr parents patents and machines so the government can't steal them...and maybe set up a place for them to live until they're 18

Also he wanted to know how cool RR was with clones.

Tim gets a thermos and immediately sucks Phantom up, apologizes claiming he needed to test it to make sure it was legit, and they go one thier way. Dannys just glad he didn't give him a blaster.

They become best friends, prank the other bats, terrorize all of thier enemies, ect.

The real problems start when Danny "can't recognize ethics unless its actively hurting someone" Fenton and Tim "always one and a half steps from turning into a supervillian" Drake start taking things a bit too far riding off of eachothers excitement

The universe trembles in fear.

Constantine hides and puts his phone on silent.

[marvelandponder]

one amazing thing about the Owl House finale is that it finally contextualized for me one of the central metaphors of the show. Spoilers for the series finale Watching and Dreaming ahead.

we good? no one spoiling themselves? beauty

for a long time now, I thought we had a pretty standard coming-of-age metaphor dichotomized by the show's central antagonists. you've got your protestant witch hunter Belos who introduces a maturity and ugliness to Luz's narrative; he clearly represents a particular, restricting form of adulthood, and just when Belos becomes his most threatening, boom, enter the Collector, Luz's dangerously naïve inner child to ruin all her development on the Boiling Isles. Seems simple enough

what I didn't anticipate was just how specific and personal their roles in the story actually are to Luz once you have the full context from the series finale

look again

this story - this whole series - is about the grief that a neurodivergent kid experienced at a young age, introducing the cruelty of loss and adulthood before she was ready to handle it. and, how to reclaim a more whole understanding of herself as she rebuilds her life with people who get her

Belos is designed to infect the titan carcass like a disease. a cancer. it's super goddamn significant that the titan is King's dad (King, who became Luz's younger brother). they set up Belos not just to be another fascist kids' cartoon villain (although yeah, he do be doing some of that), but to specifically become a force that oppressed the weirdness from the one place that understood Luz. the Iles. the dad. And by the end of the story, Belos's goopy body-horror isn't just for show, he's just like the cancer or other terminal disease that took Luz's dad from her

he's the thing Luz hasn't processed in season 1 that comes in at the end like a warning. he's the threat that forces Luz to grapple with her own humanity, feeling somehow (often completely unjustifiably) harmful to those around her, through the grief she doesn't want to be a burden or the weirdness (neurodivergence) others don't understand. he's the force that says there is something wrong with you, Luz, give in to your grief, this is what you can't face. this is the lie you've been telling to those closest to you: that you're okay

then you have the Collector. (notable that he's a collector, and we see Luz's mom and dad had quite the collection of nerdy memorabilia)

the Collector is the child too young to understand death. Too young to understand consequences, or why their playmates don't feel like playing anymore with someone so weird and maybe a bit too involved in their own world. The Collector is Luz's inner child, that kid we see right before the "worst week ever" — the one who didn't and couldn't understand what was about to happen even as it was going down. unapologetically weird, a bit destructive and short-sighted, but wholly colourful, wholly themselves. that's why the Collector wants to live out Luz's adventures, but without all the depth. just the fun escapist fantasy

but don't think I forgot the internal conflict! :D

because Camila's role also gets an added depth too: Camila was framed at the outset of the series as someone who loved Luz, but wanted her to fit inside a box that she just didn't. later, Luz completely misconstrued her mom's breakdown when she learned that Luz chose to run away. as many people have pointed out by now, Luz misremembers the actual dialogue that Camila says: Camila only wanted her daughter safe, not to lose her. Luz meanwhile felt like she had to choose to destroy this part of herself, or give up her connection with her mom altogether

but we know now Camila actually deeply relates to Luz. she may not understand Luz's fascination with horrific things like on the boiling isles (very akin to a kid getting more grim hobbies in the wake of a death, like Luz's taxidermy), but she loves Luz for who she is. all of her. she never wanted Luz to change

Luz was the one framing the central conflict of the show as go back to her mom or stay in the boiling isles. Luz was the one who felt like she had to punish herself by rejecting the one place where she felt like herself. once Camila realizes what's been going on, and how deeply connected it is to the loss of Luz's dad, she knows Luz is trying to make a "very bad choice for herself." And she won't let that happen (what a great mom!!)

But Luz does have one real choice ahead of her

because of the inner child who once again has to confront death (this time, Luz's own), Luz is able to connect with a father figure, the titan, the one place she feels understood. in the form of a power-up that makes her into a fantasy witch straight out of the Good Witch Azura, the one place she got joy after that huge loss, the titan gives her the strength to face the cancer—a force draining everything good in her life from her and making her question she deserves it in the first place—but only if she can choose herself

and that means choosing happiness, choosing found family, choosing love and friendship and self-discovery in the place she feels most at home! every bond she's forged, everything she's worked for, it all comes down to choosing to face grief and move on in life with weirdos who stick together.

hoot hoot, that's some good metaphor

[thefandomthings]

Zuko x reader

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Betrayal

Hurt prompt #11: "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Pairing: Zuko x Gn!reader

Warnings: Angst, No comfort, Established relationship, !!SPOILERS¡¡, Takes place in Book 2. Ep. 18

Notes: Oh boy, I have so many avatar requests, it's amazing. Thank you guys for participating in my event it makes me so happy! Tell me if y'all want a part 2.

Prompt Event

All you felt was pain, deep inside your chest. Watching your boyfriend take sides against the avatar once again was brutal. What made it even worse was Iroh was to be imprisoned, you would hold the same fate if you were captured.

You stood next to Katara and Aang, Azula and Zuko on the opposite side of the cave. Azula held the same malicious grin on her face, watching the three of you with smugness.

"My, my Y/n. You seem so down, how sad." She mocks you with a slight chuckle. Zuko gives her a glare, his eyes wandering back to you. They are full of guilt, pleading for forgiveness from you. Practically begging you to understand why he did it, to come with him.

"Leave Y/n alone, Azula." Zuko grunts, getting in a fighting stance with his sister. Azula clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes at her brother.

"They're the enemy now, Zuzu. Can't protect them forever." Azula laughs, blue fire erupting from her fists.

The blue flurries of fire woosh past you fastly. Katara quickly blocks the fire with her water. Using her octopus arms she slashes and whips at Azula, both going back and forth. The ground beneath the five of you shakes and cracks.

Aang and Zuko are going at it hand to hand. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Zuko takes a hit by Aangs wind, sending him flying back into one of the crystal pillars. Your heart stops, skipping a beat as Zuko groans.

You curse under your breath and run towards him, Aang is calling your name frantically. You slid against the rock surface and get the few rocks that landed on Zuko off. He lets out a huff of air, the weight of the rock off of his chest allowing him to breath.

He's quick to sit up, using his hands, he does a walk over away from you. Your heart felt like it was stabbed, watching as he gets in a protective stance. He knows you'd never hurt him on purpose, and he'd never hurt you.

"Why are you doing this, Zuko? Why are you so desperate to gain your honor back?" Your voice is meek, tears gathering at your waterline, blurring his figure.

"You know why I have to, Y/n. This is my chance to prove to my father I am worthy."

Zukos heart physically aches, seeing your tears making him question everything. He never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to put strain on your relationship. You're his everything, you've been with him since the beginning along with Iroh. Loving him even when he didn't love himself.

"But Zuko, when you get home and see your father, will he even except you? What if he hurts you again, or what if he tries to kill you?" You plead, knowing this isn't him. He's just confused and fighting himself.

Zuko stays quiet, thinking over your words carefully. You have a point. His father could easily do all of those things, Azula to. Does he really want to go through with this? Having Uncle imprisoned, possibly you too?

He closes his eyes tightly, fists clenched at his side. He lets out a long breath, salty tears slide down his cheeks as he looks back up at you again.

"He won't. I'm sorry Y/n. You can't change my mind. I'm going home." He lifts his fists back into a defensive stance, hands trembling.

"Please...Please forgive me."

You let out a strangled sob at his words, heart clenching and shattering. Zuko grits his teeth, holding back his own cries.

"Get out of here, before Azula realizes I haven't killed you." Without realizing it, Zuko was beside you. Taking you into his arms, he holds you as close as he can. His lips pressing multiple kisses to your head. His nose buried in your hair, taking in your shampoo scent one last time.

"Does this mean you don't love me anymore? Since you're leaving?" You asked, face hidden in his neck, tears hitting his skin like rain. Zuko squeezes you softly, kissing the apples of your cheeks.

"That not what I meant, Y/n. And you know it." He pulls away from you, taking a few steps back to create distance.

Water then wraps around his waist sending him flying. You scream his name as Katara takes you in her arms. You sob holding onto Katara as she sees you down.

"It'll be alright, Y/n. I promise." She hugs you tightly, the sound of wind echos in the cave as Aang enters the avatar state. Suddenly lighting cracks, blue electricity shoots towards Aang. Shooting into his back like a spear.

"AANG!" You and Katara race towards him, watching as he falls, his body is lifeless. Katara catches him, tears falling from her eyes. You use your bending to keep the three of you protected as Katara holds Aang and bends up the waterfall.

Zuko watches as the love of his life disappears. He lets out a sob, his fist pounding the ground.

He's sorry. So, so sorry. He never wanted to hurt you, cause you this much pain. Yet he has, and he might never, ever be able to fix it.

He hopes you're safe, and he'll come and find you when the time is right before it's to late.

[daddyricsdoll]

False God ✭ Max Verstappen

Summary: Being lost spiritually isn't something you can brag about, but finding a new belief in someone is. From that alluring man in the F1 paddock to finding out he's the Max Verstappen didn't effect you as much as discovering his lips are your new religion even if it's a false god.

Warnings: The use of y/n!! (I used it 2-3 times), unprotected sex (what else could you expect from me?), teasing, reader is a virgin, mirror sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, creampie, praise, and use of names (good girl), also overstimulation and dacyphilia. I don't know if taking a photo of a naked person counts as a warning or spoiler, I guess it's both.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Based off of this request. I would also like to thank @mrsevansxstanxobrien for saving me by giving me a perfect storyline for this. 🧡 And also all everyone who waited for this. I feel like adding more at the end, maybe a part two.

Never would I have ever thought I’d wear this dress. But I’ve been lost, and these girls are helping me become found. I’m not used to the material leaving my shoulders exposed and ending before my knees. Some of my family wouldn’t approve, but I feel… pretty. I would’ve worried that my place in heaven might slowly crumble but now, I don’t know. 

I feel so happy and people are looking at me. In my little white dress, the one that hugs my torso and sways around my thighs, loose straps hung above my shoulders. 

This feels like heaven. Being in a place I’ve never heard of with my friends as they pull me to different small buildings. “Come on!! We have to find any driver we can. If you see one, tell me!” Lissie smiles, eyes shooting everywhere just like my other two friends.

“I don’t know what any of the drivers look like.” I say my words with worry but chuckles lacing them. 

“If you see a good looking guy with people around him, then tell me.” I laugh hearing others agree. 

“Oh specifically if they wear red or orange- Ferrari and McLaren drivers, oh even Mercedes which is black.”

“Ok… I’ll try.” Feeling uncertain about this whole thing but I nod. Walking through the paddock and turning my head at every man that would emit a good thought into my head. They looked at me too and I prayed to god hoping it weren't for the wrong reasons. 

My friends quickly spotted a driver and we all got photos and signatures, his name was Charles last I recall and now I understand one of the reasons he has so many fans. He signed my paddock pass in record time and then sent us a remarkable smile. 

We had to leave him and those dimples to jog the other way for drivers who had just finished FP2, meeting so many as my friends explained to me the whole purpose of this. 

Some drivers walked in pairs making it all the more easier for us to capture a second with them. 

I was getting one of my friends' hats signed by a driver called George when my eyes left his hand, looking into the crowd all around us. Somehow locking eyes with a stranger, he then looked me up and down a small smirk on his face.

And I could only do the same, my eyes travelled down his body, his jeans that hugged his thick thighs and red bull polo tight around his shoulders then hanging around the rest of his torso. I became flushed and looked away for a second to gain composure but when I looked back he wasn’t there. It was like he was a dream. 

“Y/n, you good?” Lissie asked, checking in on me as I hadn’t realised they started walking again. “Oh, um yeah I got distracted. So who else do we have to find?” 

“Great question, so I heard that Max is around here somewhere, he might be gone but still keep an eye out for him. And Alex, I love him with my whole heart but our telepathy isn’t telling me where he is.” We both laugh and it feels so good, the afternoon soon reaching the evening. She checks her watch and then looks back at me. “Oh, we have 3 hours until dinner so we can go back to the hotel, do things there, eat, party and then we’ll be back here tomorrow. Sounds good?” I couldn’t say no to that plan so we ended up going back to the hotel. 

20 minutes of swimming in the empty hotel pool turned into nearly 2 hours and now we were running a little behind schedule. We rushed to get ready, but oh didn’t we still look good. “We’re gonna meet the other girls there.” Lissie tells me as we get seated in the back of a taxi, adjusting her makeup. I nod, turning my head to look out of the window, I hold the cross around my neck fiddling with it whenever I get too deep into my thoughts. 

I cast eyes on many people today but that one guy, from the way he looked at me with a light smirk to the smallest tingling feeling he sent through my body. It was as if he tried to make out my whole personality in one glance, if only I could’ve done the same. 

The scenario plays in my head multiple times, each time I react in a different way– my default ways of a smile or being a whole different person by sending him a smirk, or calling him over. 

I know I shouldn’t worry about that, if worried is a word close to what I’m experiencing. But my thoughts make the ride shorter and we both hop out of the car, wearing outfits suitable for a restaurant and a dirty club right after. We stood just outside the restaurant waiting for Leah and Milan.

Taxi’s drove past and dropped people off, each one we looked into searching for those two girls. Then suddenly a car made an abrupt stop in front of us. The windows were tinted and it limited our vision inside of the car. Just until the door opened and a partially familiar figure started getting out of the car.

His face came into view and so many emotions ran through me in that second that Lissies scream was the only thing that brought me back. “It’s Max Verstappen! Oh my god! Can I get a photo or a signature or anything?!” She rushes toward him, searching her bag and finding a pen. I was still in shock, he is Max Verstappen? 

Next thing I know he’s standing in front of me. “Would you like a photo or signature?” He asks me so kindly, making me wonder if he was the guy whose eyes roamed my body then smirked at me like he knew exactly how I’d react. 

“I-um sure. Well I don’t really have anything to sign.” And then a piece of paper is passed to me from Lissie. “Oh, thanks.” I grab it and hold it out to Max, watching as he stares at my face long enough to memorise every inch. He looks away to sign my paper, taking longer than I would’ve thought, but when he gives me that smirk from earlier everything leaves my mind. He then starts walking away, getting interrupted by other fans.

Each step he took further away I wanted to say something even more, call him back, talk to him. But why and what for?

My eyes look down at the paper, his signature, but I see some of the pen ink on the other side, flipping the paper over my breath hitches at what’s written. “Be a good girl” I read, my eyes then following an arrow that points to his number. I lightly squeezed my legs together and tried to force the pink off my cheeks. I couldn’t help but stare at it in disbelief before quickly folding it and shoving it into my bag. “You good?” Lissie asks me.

“Yeah, just surprised.” 

“I know, that was really unexpected but luckily we all got something from Max. I got a photo with him as well he looked so fucking good in that suit.”

She was right, he did look so good and that feeling he made me feel, oh it was stronger than before but a small fire between my legs also grew. I just hoped it wasn’t lust, especially for a man I just learnt the name of. ✭

The next morning we were back in the paddock, me being the only one not partially hungover by the drug of alcohol. We started walking past the red bull hospitality, my eyes flickering over to the door praying to see that one man. But my prayer wasn’t answered as FP3 started and I only saw him on a big screen. 

Once FP3 finished we stayed in McLaren hospitality for a little while longer waiting to catch a glimpse of the two stars with the fastest lap times. And to our luck both of the Mclaren drivers walked in, but they weren’t the only ones, Max Verstappen walked beside Lando in his dark blue drivers suit. I ran up to them with my friends, letting them congratulate the drivers as I stood back. Not noticing one of the drivers leave until a feather touch of a hand was on my back. “You didn’t call or text me. And I thought you were gonna be my good girl.”

I took a deep breath, somehow knowing exactly whose voice it was. 

“It’s gonna take more than that. But tell me… what do you really want?” My voice firmer and somehow trying to gain confidence like his, soon feeling even more flustered when I hear his chuckle beside me. “What do I want? Oh honey, I want you.” My lips part, trying to control my breathing through my mouth. His finger comes beneath my chin and my head is lifted to the side to face him. His fingers trickle down my chin and throat, reaching the cross that sits barely above my cleavage. 

“What’s this?”

“It’s um…” I became lost for words, knowing exactly what I would’ve said but I can’t say it to him. He deserves so much more.

“I’m not into this stuff, gods and everything. They don’t really do much for you, but you give them everything.” I shake my head lightly, trying to show my disagreement but not make him want to leave me. 

“Oh? My good girl doesn’t believe me?” The fake surprise on his face teases me. “Would your god let me touch you? Would he let me make you cry from my dick?” Max brings his face closer to mine, just enough for his breath to touch my ear. His large hands run down my arms and he grabs a hold of my phone. 

“Unlock it.” He commands me, crystal blue eyes hypnotising me. And without a question, I unlocked it.

“Now you have no excuse to not call me.” He shows me his number in which he just typed into my contacts, calling it to watch his phone start ringing. “Now I have yours.” He saves my number, looking back up at me. “Now won’t you tell me your name?” 

“Why? You’ll only call me your good girl.” My lips move faster than my mind. Not recognising my own words. 

“My good girl, trying to be someone you’re not. Now, tell. Me. Your. Name.”

“Y/n.” I say watching a pleased smile on his perfect lips. And then just like last night he leaves me there, standing thinking about something bigger than the whole world—him. ✭

Up came the race day, the one in which the whole place was filled, park passes, hospitality and grandstands. We came in earlier than usual after the girls all somehow noticed the end of me and Max's last interaction. Going crazy and asking if there’s something between us, what his hands feel like, if I’m his new wag and will I see him after this all. 

I thought about that last question longer. I don’t know if god brought us together or maybe he’s something here for something else, but I don’t usually enjoy having no clue what’s going on, so I plan on finding out. 

We find a seat in hospitality and when I finally gain the courage to send Max a text I see that he’s beat me to it. 

‘You’re not my good girl anymore’

‘Why don’t you come to redbull and I’ll show you what you really are’

I become flushed at his words, squeezing my legs together. Checking the time he sent the message I curse at myself for not seeing it earlier. We have nearly half an hour left until the race and all the drivers are with their teams. I couldn’t possibly go now, so I blame myself for not being able to touch his skin or hear his voice before the race.

So instead I send him a text, replying to the ones he had sent.

‘How about you win the race and I’ll be your good girl’

It barely takes a minute for the message to turn from delivered to read. He starts typing then stops, typing again then stopping. He teases me with that for what feels like hours, until I finally receive something. 

‘Be ready, once I’m done you won’t be able to say your name.’

I was speechless, leaving his message on read, letting him know he already stole all the words from me. I turn my phone off, watching the last few pre race interviews before I see Max walk past behind a crowd of people. A tiny smirk on his face, I smile knowing it was for me. 

My emotions throughout the whole race were a rollercoaster. Watching a crash between 3 drivers had me praying they were all ok and that it would never come across Max. There were battles all over the circuit, Max managing to never be a part of any as he led the race. I was surprised at how fast the race went by, from complaining about the length of them to now letting the time run right past.

My friends pulled me away once the race ended, telling me we had to watch the podium. And I was glad I let them take me. I watched max from below, majestic being the word to explain him. He wore his suit and sweat trickled on him, hair swept to the side like always. His eyes so soft I couldn’t imagine he was the same man that threatened to make me cry from his dick. I’m not complaining but he looked so content, so happy with himself and he never had needed God's validation. 

Everything in my head seems to become blurry, Max’s smile the only thing still keeping me here. I manage to find his eyes, remembering the blue of it from the first time. His lips change and I’m certain I see his signature smirk, just for me. 

When both of the national anthems finish they start spraying champagne, becoming my queue to escape to the red bull hospitality. I didn’t have any clue where to go so I waited for him outside the building. 

His teammate Checo walked past me, giving me a smile like I was any fan and then a crowd of people were making their way here. All following the man himself, Max Verstappen. He sees me standing there, that one smirk arises on his face before he whispers something to the woman beside him, probably his assistant or something, because once they reach me she smiles and then takes me to his driver's room as Max finishes with all the fans.

I take in the surroundings, the room being small but big enough to fit the things he needs. A decent sized bathroom and a mirror being the door of his cupboard filled with redbull polos, which seem to be the only thing he wears. 

“You going through my stuff, doll?” I turn at the noise, seeing Max walk into the room and start unzipping his racing suit.

“No, you left me in a room alone, what else am I to do?”

He chuckles and walks closer to me, his suit now hanging around his waist. He comes closer, nearly caging me into the wall with his body. A few strands of his hair fell and now hang between the two of us. I have nowhere to go, not like I’d ever want to leave, but it’s not like he’d let me. 

“I won.” He breathes out.

“And now I’m your good girl.” Max shakes his head, chuckling as his arm rests on the wall above my head.

“You’re not a good girl… but I’m gonna make you one.” He moves his head closer to mine, nearly touching my skin with his lips but he doesn’t make contact. Teasing me by going along my face and down my neck. So close I can feel his breath, but he never touches me. Trailing across my collar bone as I try to ease my breathing.

I lightly arch my back, bringing my chest closer to him, trying to force the contact. But then he stops. He grabs my pendant, the one of a cross. 

“You’ve been worshipping the same man for years, would it bring you to hell to worship another? Let’s say… me.” 

I don’t have time for a reaction as he smashes his lips into mine, taking my breath away. His hands cup either side of my face, holding me in place as he kisses my lips in a way no other person has before. My body writhes against the wall, having no clue what to do but touch him. Try and touch him in a way no person ever has and ever will. 

That my religion is his lips.

I lean into his touch when his hand reaches up my shirt, not touching my breasts yet, but caressing the skin of my back and waist. Max groans into my mouth, lighting a fuse between my legs that I tried to keep out. 

My nails dig into his shoulders, fireproof still tight along his body. I can’t control my body, wanting to feel every inch of him against and inside me. 

“If you wanna be a good girl, then you can wait.” I whine at his words when his lips leave me. My chest still arched and body screamed with need. “I don’t want you to move.” He tells me, eyes a darker shade and voice commanding. I nod my head quickly, hoping the faster I am, he will be. “So needy.” Max chuckles almost as if he’s teasing me of wanting him so much. 

He starts closing the gap between us, standing directly in front of me and looking down because of our heights. I grow accustomed to the heat his body spreads and the pink of his post-race cheeks. Falling for his looks before his touch steals my attention. His fingers slide down the side zip of my short skirt, pulling it down my legs until it reaches the floor. He pushes my legs apart with his foot and my pussy pulses with anticipation. 

I observe him as his fingers don’t go close to where I need him, instead doing the job of taking my top off of me. I lift my arms up to help him, feeling the cool air of the room brush against my body. 

“Take the rest off.” He tells me, standing back to watch my whole body. Eyes skimming me from top to bottom. My skin turned hot, a mix of emotions making me react in different ways. I nod, slowly taking my clothes off. Smiling to myself when I see Max brush a hand against the bulge in his suit. 

Once my panties and bra lay on the floor Max finally comes back. Hands gliding down my arms and then intertwining with my fingers. He guides each of my arms above my head, giving him full access to my body. Making me more vulnerable than I’ve ever been. 

The pads of his thumbs barely touch my nipples, forcing a whine out of my mouth and my chest to press into him. He pulls away immediately, draining his contact from me. And then he comes again, sliding his fingers over my nipples and I have to force myself to stay still.

Max’s fingers tickle down my bare body, he goes between my cleavage and caresses my breasts with the light touch of his finger tips. Soon going over my stomach and my lower abdomen. He delays the contact to my core and starts tracing my hip bones with each hand, slipping to my backside as he cups my ass with his hands.

“Fuck.” He mutters. Moving his hands from my backside to start lightly touching my thighs. Max advances to the inside of my thighs, spreading my legs a little wider, making it easier for his eyes and fingers. My lips parted long ago and breathing became uneven. Suspense ran through my veins as I felt the heat from his fingers approach my core. 

I was certain my arousal was close to dripping on his fingers, and then he finally touched me. Not as firm as I wanted, but his fingers still make contact. Teasing my clit as his eyes are on me, watching as my bottom lip is drawn between my teeth. 

The feeling was so new to me, I had never been touched by a man like this. Do I regret it, not really, because that would mean Max wouldn’t be the first. 

A loud moan rips the silence of the room, the filthy sound leaving my mouth. His middle finger runs between my folds and I flinch at the feeling, letting the moan leave my mouth freely watching as Max smiles. 

My climax surely builds up from his teasing strokes.

I then lose the feeling of his fingers, a cry leaving my mouth. “Be my good girl and show me how you make yourself cum.”

“I thought you were gonna make me a good girl. But I guess you’re not as good as I thought.” I slide my hand down my body, going down the trail between my legs. My eyes firm on Max as many emotions run across his face. I touch my clit and be sure to moan louder and longer than when Max touched me. My eyes were closed that I didn’t see as Max made his way closer, but his loud steps were enough. 

My hand his forces off my body and held above my head. Max’s other hand now occupying the job he told me to do myself. He doesn’t take his time now. Thrusting two digits inside of me with force. “I’ll make you cum. Give me a number.”

“Three.” I whine out between each of his thrusts, focusing on the harsh face he gives me.

“Fuck, making it so easy for me. I already made you cum once.” He chuckles at the confusion on my face. Pulling his fingers out of me and showing me my cum that moves down them. I moan at the sight, then once again as he shoves them in his mouth. My eyes stuck on his tongue as he circles each finger. When he pulls them out of his mouth a string of saliva is hanging from his fingertip. I watch as he brings his digits closer to my lips, telling me to open my mouth to get a taste of him. 

Max slides his fingers out of my mouth and drags it down my body. 

“Let’s do something new” Max says as he goes on his knees. Kneeling in front of me and making my pussy throb. He doesn’t say anymore words as he forces my legs on his shoulders. I clench my pussy as his breath brushes against it in such a way it’s a drug. 

The words slow, leisurely and gentle out of his mind as he starts eating me out. Like a starved man and I’m a whole dinner. The sensation of his flat tongue against such a sensitive part of me makes me crazy. My fingers diving into his perfect hair to ruin it. 

He toys with my clit and slides his tongue inside of me. 

It hadn’t taken long until I was reaching my release. Pulling at his hair with force and whining so loud I’m sure people outside could hear. But that only made it more thrilling. 

“So quick. But I’m not done.” Max says against my pussy before going back in. Bringing me to surprise. He licks and sucks all my cum, fingers coming back to ram inside of me as his tongue toys with my swollen clit. 

He made tears come to my eyes and a moan mixed with a whine to leave my mouth as I came another time. Even more sensitive.

Max helps me get off his shoulders before standing up to peel every piece of fabric off his body. Once my eyes laid on his skin I could truly say the suit doesn’t give him justice. 

My mouth watered at the sight of his cock. Making me question how easily he would fit. 

“Come here.” Max demands. And I do, walking up to him just for him to tell me to get on my knees. I grow nervous as his dick now sits in front of my face and as I’m about to grab it  Max tells me to do something completely different. 

“Go on your hands and knees. And face the mirror.” I quickly do it, seeing myself in the thin mirror. I look further up to observe Max. He grabs my hips, lifting them up so they're in line with his. 

I hold my breath as he brings his dick to my entrance. Circling it with his tip and watching me through the mirror. He distracts me with his signature smirk and then rams inside of me. Bottoming out immediately. My mouth opens in an ‘o’ shape as he takes my breath away with his dick. Pulling out and then thrusting back in with more power. His skin slapping against mine and tip viciously hitting my g-spot. 

Max leans forward and grabs my hair in a makeshift ponytail, forcing my head up. “I want you to watch as I fuck all the words out of your mouth.” 

My vision blurred by the tears, but I make out our figures. My tears fall as Max drives his dick into me once again. 

“That’s it. Cry over my dick. So. Fucking. Good.” He grits between his teeth at each thrust. I look at myself, being utterly ruined by a man I met a couple of days ago. He keeps my head up, not daring to let my eyes leave the mirror. His bottom lip is between his teeth and eyebrows furrowed as he keeps in his moans. Letting mine fill the room instead. 

I can barely hold up my body as I get closer to my climax. Clenching around Max multiple times before I finally release. 

A string of unholy sounds escape my mouth and it’s as if they set off Max, ultimately allowing me to hear him moan just as I had done before. 

Max twitches inside of me before he releases. Swearing in dutch before calling me a good fucking girl. His cum fills and distracts me as he pulls out. Demanding me to stay there.

I expect to see him walk out with a cloth, but instead his phone. He angles the camera right behind me, capturing his cum that drips out of me and both our faces in the mirror.

My face holds confusion and he sees it, keeping a straight face.

“People usually have photos of their gods, something to look at when they worship it. And this is mine.”

[pray4byron]

hi, I hope you’re having a good day, I’d love to leave a request for Hazbin Hotel.

Could I request Alastor, Angel Dust, Lucifer, Vox and Lucifer (feel free not to do them all if they’re too many) and how they would react when their s/o finds them crying and comforts them and gives them a hug? I’d love some reverse comfort for them they’re my favs, also gn reader pls!

hello!! i’m having a good day, i hope you are as well!! this was a very interesting concept to think about, especially for alastor haha, it may be a bit out of character but i tried my best lol

Warnings: Potentially OOC Alastor, S1 Finale Spoilers, Swear Words, Mentions of Valentino, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Mentions of Injury (Scars, Bruises, Blood, Ect), Mentions of Depression, Mentions of Sex (No Smut)

Alastor, Angel Dust, Lucifer, Vox x Reader (Reverse Comfort)

Alastor

Alastor wasn’t one to express much emotion - other than his signature smile, let alone cry, but you caught him - even if it was barely

He felt like he was on the edge of pure insanity and psychotic, and he, the almighty Radio Demon, would’ve never expected something so little to give him his final push

After the fight between Adam and Alastor, he had lost his cane, his cane gave him almost every ounce of power and control his soul had gained since entering Hell, and he was going insane without it

You watched Alastor silently drift away from the crowded hotel lobby after Lucifer made some petty comment about losing his staff.

Despite that small part of you trying to convince you against it, you followed him.

You trickled behind him slowly to his room, all the way on the other side of the hotel.

He left his door open a crack, and you opened it slightly and stood in the doorway, and there he was.

Alastor’s usually neat and tidy hotel room was now a disaster with blueprints on the floor, you took a glance at them, some looking relatively old and some looked quite fresh, they were sketches and plans for a new staff - although you knew Alastor no longer had the magic the make it.

You hid as he came into your view, he was pacing the room, a very strained smile present on his face as tears pricked in his eyes, as he ran his fingers through his hair, tossing around blueprints and plans and other papers that seemed to be plans for a new staff, searching for a solution to his despair.

Slowly, you approached Alastor, patting him on the back softly before retracting your hand, remembering he doesn’t like to be touched.

He shook his head and sighed, the same drained smile was still present on his face, he looked down at you, and you never noticed the bags under his eyes until now… I mean, you knew he wasn’t one to typically sleep, but he never had bags before…

“I’m sorry, my dear.” He said, fixing his posture, and straightening up his suit. “One might say I’m a bit distraught at the moment. What is it you need?”

“Well.. uh, Al, you looked a bit sad recently, especially after what Lucifer said about your cane, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” You said, providing a bashful smile, at the fact that you’d be caught snooping.

“Ah, well, how awfully kind of you, my little doe. Just know, that I’m doing quite alright-” Before Alastor could finish his sentence you engulfed him in a hug, he paused for a moment, before slowly wrapping his arms around the small of your back.

His face was in the crook of your neck, as he sighed, you couldn’t see his face, but you could feel him give a soft smile onto your neck, not a grin, but a smile.

Angel Dust

You knew Angel’s job at the studio was far from easy, and shifts could last several hours at a time, but now? You were starting to worry…

He hadn’t been home in nearly two days. And it was starting to freak you out.

You sat in Angel’s bed in the hotel, snuggled next to Fat Nuggets, he let out a small snort as you cradled him in your arms. “I miss him too, baby.” You muttered, kissing his forehead, tearing up at the thought of all possibilities of what could’ve happened to him.

“Papa will be back home soon.” You nearly whispered, your voice cracking softly, you just wanted to see your boyfriend. The movie that was on in the background began to fade away as you fell to sleep.

You woke up again at about 1am from a slam of the bathroom door that was connected to Angel’s room. You blinked your eyes a few times, groggily, not entirely aware of what was going on until you heard sobbing coming from the bathroom.

You rushed the warm, pink comforter off of you, leaving Fat Nuggets on the bed asleep, urgently swinging open the bathroom door, finding Angel wailing, clinging onto the sink, halfway on the floor.

His shirt was off, and a few bruises and scars were visible. He let go of the sink, and slid down the floor, cradling his body.

“Handsome, shit..” You murmured, kneeling down to his level, you put a comforting hand on his knee. “Baby, look at me.”

You requested softly, now using your hand to comb through Angel’s hair, when you didn’t get a response, you used your free hand to tilt his face up to you, and the sight broke you.

His eyes stared into yours, afraid and hurt, there was smeared eyeliner under his eyes that traveled a bit down his face, there was blood coming from his mouth.

You felt tears prick in your eyes, you hated seeing him like this, “My love, can I hold you?”

Angel nodded as his body fell into your arms, you rocked him slowly, shushing his sobs, turning them into a small sniffles.

You pulled away from him to look at him, you wiped the smudged makeup off his face with your thumb, and looked at him. “Wanna talk about it, Angie?”

“You already know the deal by now, it’s just Val..” He said, wiping his eyes, hiccuping before continuing, “I had a rough week, and I wasn’t off-script, and he just said to improv it, and I just fucked it up.. and he, well..” He gestured to the bruises and scars on his body, referencing what happened, giving a dry chuckle, you tensed above him.

“Baby.” You started, cupping his cheeks, pulling him to look at you, “I don’t know how yet, but I will fucking get you out of this, I don’t care who or what I have to go through, but I will fucking get you out of this. No one gets to hurt you and expect to get away with it.” You vowed, as your foreheads connected,

“Sugar, there’s no way out.” Angel murmured. “He’ll find me..” He said barely above a whisper, his voice cracking in fear, your heart ached for him.

“I’ll figure it out, handsome.” You said, pecking his forehead, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Lucifer

You’ve known since before you even started dating that Lucifer had depression, and you knew it hit hard, but you had never really been around to experience that before.

Whenever you could, you always tried to help him out with it, which was a bit hard since he had a tendency to brush it off a lot

It wasn’t until you came home to Luci having a depressive episode where you really got a grip on his depression

You came back to you and Lucifer’s shared home, you had just gotten out of work, and Lucifer was supposed to be at a meeting, key word, supposed to.

As you walked down the hall you heard sniffles coming from your shared bedroom.

You opened the door, it let out a small creak, and you noticed Lucifer curled up on the end of the bed.

There were tissues scattered on the floor on his side of the bed and on his night stand, his clothes that he would’ve worn to his meeting were in a messy pile on the floor, he was in boxers and no shirt, his hair messy, as he sniffled into the pillows, curled up in a thin but fuzzy duck blanket.

“Sweetie, what happened?” You asked sweetly, sitting down next to him at the edge of the bed, rubbing his scalp.

“I-I was gonna go to my m-meeting today, but when I went to get out of bed everything it just felt like I couldn’t do it.. and I started spiraling and I called Charlie and told her to go instead..” Luci explained through sniffles, clutching the blanket closer to his chest.

“Aww, darling.” You cooed lovingly, caressing his cheek, “How about this; I go run a nice, hot bath for the two of us, and then we can cuddle and take a nap, and then try to clean everything up. You can even bring in a few ducks if you want.” Lucifer perked up at your offer, nodding eagerly.

“Okay.” You smiled, chuckling softly, “Just keep your pretty little self here while I go run the water.” You said, getting up to leave, but you turned around as you got to the doorway. “Bubbles or no bubbles?” You asked with a knowing smile.

“…Bubbles, please.”

Velvette had sent you off to go check on Vox, normally he comes out of his security room to check on either her or Valentino, or you, and surprisingly he hadn’t today

You worked for the Vee’s but you were also friends, you were important enough to be basically considered an honorary Vee member, but you were unimportant enough to be cut from big social events and have a fair amount of work dumped on you last minute — And you were an assistant (as well as partner) to Vox

You knocked on the door to Vox’s office room, when no response came from the other side you slowly opened the door, and you saw a very stressed Vox.

His screen was in his hands, letting out small sniffles, but he would glitch here and there as the watery tears shocked his chords.

“Baby, you good?” You asked, standing behind him.

He whipped around, scrambling to wipe away any remaining tears, “Oh- Uh- Yeah- I’m fine.” He muttered, turning back around.

“Were you crying?” You asked, hesitantly, you’d never seen him cry before, other than sex, you both had only been together a few months.

“What? No! I don’t do that shit.” He scoffed, it was clear he was getting defensive, he didn’t like to be caught like this, but he’d rather it be you than someone else.

“Vox…” You pushed, maybe you shouldn’t have, but you did anyway. “Fine. Rough day, okay? Work is stressful as fuck.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, “Do you wanna lay down? Maybe take a nap? And you come back in an hour or two?” You suggested softly, Vox could be stubborn as hell at times, and you weren’t trying to push your luck.

Vox hesitates momentarily, before muttering a small, “I guess…”

[scribs-dibs]

i'm an orange moon...

(reflecting the light of the sun)

major spoilers for 2.1, gn reader, it got a bit angsty i didn't meaaaan itttt, aventurine is touch starved and you Know how i feel about touchsta💥

wc; ~ 1.6k

“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”

Aventurine knows how to be an actor. He does so easily— his carefully crafted mask is more familiar than his own face. He is a performer first and a person second, because there is not a time or place on this or any planet where he can afford to lose anything more. The pieces of himself are barely put together, what is left of him seems to seep like sand between his very fingers. His family, his planet, himself, torn to ruin. And yet it is said that fate smiles upon him. The fractured pieces of himself are a blessing. What a funny thing fate must be, if his hell is said to be a heaven.

The mask must never slip, not even once— his life is a stage, corpses weighing heavy on his back, grasping hands chaining his feet, screams tearing his eardrums to shreds, and yet he must walk it anyway. And Aventurine will, and he will do it without missing a step. For this is what it means for him to live, his every breath a sin.

Aventurine knows how to keep a poker face. He does so easily— his smile is trained never to meet his eyes, it doesn’t know how to, and his hypnotic eyes are always trained on his next opponent, never leaving or faltering. He can’t afford to look away, to see what could possibly come next— to see what could hurt him, next. Aventurine could control nothing in his life. He couldn’t control the Katicans as they laughed as they took his father, or his mother, or his sister, and he couldn’t control when his swine of a master forced him to murder his fellow slaves, either. But he can control who he gets close to. He can control who he lets in, who is allowed to see what he looks like when his walls finally crumble.

Which, of course, is no one.

So it comes easily when he pushes well-meaning gestures away, or refuses a favor with that soft, styrofoam smile and a laugh. It’s not just second-nature, no. It’s the only one he has left.

Aventurine knows he doesn’t deserve the sanctity of being loved. This fact comes to him easily– all who have dared to try have been disappointed, and all who had mattered to him are gone. He knows it well, he is far too many pieces, far too broken, far too much of a mess for someone to come to try and fix. And this is fine, because he doesn’t have the experience to even fantasize about what he is supposedly missing. The closest semblance to friends that he has may as well be rivers or oceans away, with the amount of distance he has put between them and himself.

So you. You are strange to him.

Aventurine does not know what the hell your deal is. He doesn’t know how you got so close. He doesn’t know why you bother.

“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”

That gives him pause. For a moment, his lips part, and his brows threaten to furrow under the weight of his pure bafflement. But, as always, his mask slips back on easily, a kind smile slotted into place.

“Oh? Afraid of getting lost?”

You walk beside him on the streets of Golden Hour, taking in the sequins disguised as stars and the specially-manufactured cool night air. He can’t tell if you’re naive or just easily impressed.

“No,” you say with a shake of your head, “Maybe I just…felt like it.”

Aventurine does not change anything in his face. There isn’t so much as a slow bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows, or a look of conflict crossing his features. There is no hesitation in his face, his mask, at all. But even so, when you look at him, through him, your kind smile finds a way to become kinder, and the tenderness in your eyes somehow becomes more potent.

“We don’t have to,” you don’t look disappointed, or even expectant, at all, “We can keep walking. Just this is enough as it is.”

“Just this” is the oddly peaceful silence as the two of you walk together. Your presence is comparable to a sun he never got acquainted with— he’s used to the storms, to the rock and sand, to the unyielding weather he was forced to endure, but this is different. This is just a walk, and there’s no search for water while the taste of blood coats his tongue, or the threat of thunder or biting cold. It is just peace at its purest. He extends his hand.

“Far be it for me to argue. Be my guest.”

You light up immediately, elated. He's thankful for his shades— the brightness of you is blinding. And he isn't quite prepared for the feel of you. Even through his gloves he feels the warmth of your hands— it is everything he is not. His own are ruined; he was pried from his home, and forced to take a bloody, bloody climb back up to earn his own humanity again. Aventurine’s hands are ruined beyond repair— no amount of washing can cleanse them, but yours, yours are so different. They aren't fully soft, you have work and hardships of your own, but they are gentle. Taking your hand feels easy because there are no expectations or commands hidden in the grooves of your palms. There are no hidden weapons behind your back, there is nothing but the feeling of flesh against the dark smoothness of his glove, and for a moment, he almost finds himself staggering.

How long has it been, since he touched another with no expectations? To not force himself to be overly friendly, to not appease anyone for the sake of getting information, to just exist, with someone else's hand in his?

The last willing touch he remembers feeling came with his fingers dipped in blood, salty tears thick on his taste buds. This is different from that. This is worlds away from that.

And Aventurine does not know how to feel. He doesn't know how to arrange his mask in response. There is no light in his eyes, not anymore, at least, but for a moment they are so wide with shock that Golden Hour’s stars swirl in the mix of blue and purple— a complex, vulnerable galaxy. Aventurine does not know how to feel. And it bothers him.

The tips of your fingers slide from his palms to the tips of his own, raking tiny sparks across the fabric of his gloves. Your fingers are interlocked now, and his head is spinning. You're everywhere. Under his gloves, under his skin, everywhere, and it's troubling. Strangely, he doesn't want to let go. For a moment —one that is fleeting and miniscule, barely a blink of an eye— his mask softens, melting around symptoms of genuine comfort, but his wounded heart kicks in defiance. The mask clicks back into place when your gaze meets his again, a smooth, porcelain smile easily greets you. Just as it has been taught to.

(His hands are nice. You know he thinks differently, has been taught to think differently, but they are firm under your palms and quickly warm to your touch.)

“Shall we?”

Distantly, he is aware of the implications of holding hands on a busy city street, encircled by onlookers and gossiping figures— this is the behavior of lovers, friends, family, people who are much, much closer than the two of you are. But your touch is…pleasant. It could mean trouble for you, to be seen with him when so many people have him under such a careful watch, (He is never truly free of people's stares or of their suspicion, and this makes associating with him more than a hassle.) but you know this, and have yet to keep your distance. Experimentally, he flexes his fingers around yours. It's faint, and a gamble if nothing else, but you squeeze him back almost immediately.

Aventurine knows he is greedy. This is intertwined into his being almost as tightly as the hold of your hands. He knows that this is a rare, fleeting moment, one that he will never get to indulge in again —not when his plans to discover the truth of Penacony are sure to succeed— and he knows that he will long for it once it ends, the sweetness of it clinging to his teeth. But he wants it. He wants this singular moment of peace, of keeping the mask on but for once not needing to perform. The city is busy as ever, bustling crowds and cheerful chatter echo up into the walls of tall buildings. It would be nice, to continue your walk together like this, with your soft, sunny hand in his. It would satiate his greed, if only for a moment.

But Aventurine knows he is not worth your time.

“It's been lovely, really,” he almost slips— he almost winces when your face falls. You aren't as practiced as he is when it comes to keeping a poker face. “But I really must be going.” His hand slides out from underneath yours, but it is not as easy as he thought it’d be. The ghost of your touch already serves to haunt him. A few steps back, and your warmth still lingers.

“Take care out there, alright?” he says it with a tilt of his head, his best, practiced and perfect smile easing the tension from your shoulders. Performing again, this time for a private audience.

He only gets a few steps away before you call for him again.

Aventurine knows how to pretend not to hear and keep walking.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

rbs w/comments are appreciated!! <33