#i mean. i feel like every song references every other song tbh

[semiotomatics]

no but literally this album is a lyrical masterpiece

#the maybe man #ajr #tmm #LIKE #the way maybe man (the song) LICHRALLY touches on every single song on the album #i mean. i feel like every song references every other song tbh #i need to read the genius pages and/or take notes #and the way it all gets wrapped up in 2085??? #AND THEN IT CIRCLES BACK AROUND TO MAYBE MAN AGAIN #WHAT THE FUCK #“HERE I GO AGAIN” #i will never stop screaming abt this album #i can't wait till i know every word #also guess i gotta get my passport for real this time #cause you KNOW i'm gonna be trying to buy tickets for seattle #hopefully they come to vancouver at some point but i just can't risk it!!!

[inmyheadimobsessed]

I Don't Play Nice

pairing: riri ✘ black!fem!reader

summary: don't fuck fans. this was your rule. unfortunately though, the development of this rule came only after you'd done just that. and now, you cannot seem to outrun your mistake.

word count: longg <3

contains: singer!reader, obsessed!fan!riri, mean!reader, semi mean!riri, possessive!riri, jealous!riri, ooc riri, tbh riri herself is a warning, toxic dynamics, some darkish themes?, mentions of stalking, smut (18+), dom!reader, sub!riri, bratty!riri, riri is mouthy & very unhinged, oral, choking, knife play (riri loves her knife), light nipple play, mentions of blood, car sex, public sex?, strap!reader, fingering (riri receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk, spanking, crying, biting, pain!kink, masturbation, strap sucking (barely), use of drugs (pills), rough sex

tags: @verachii @venusdraco @quintessencewrites @cjariot @widowmakker @blackgcomica @n7cje @dejaonline @shinsousliya @generallysapphic @mbakuetshurisprincess @pinkwright @saintwrld @axailslink @mocha-aya @uhwhatsay @6-noir @cuddl3s4shur1 @chidinma @shuriszn @lppriceisright @sweetalittleselfish-honey @abenomeiiii @marsolgy @prettymrswright @shurisjournal @marsolgy @shurismainbxtch @shurisbbymama @shuriri4life @cafehyunji @yunhofingers @yamsthoughts @iseebeautyinwords @ihearttish @vampzxi @sapphicvqmpires

divider by: @firefly-graphics

note: uhhhh, just stay with me, walk with me!!! see it the way i’m seeing it first!!! the car scene/smut is heavily inspired by ohmami by chase atlantic & maggie lindemann, i've had that song on repeat for weeks just sitting in my ideas. i would suggest listening to it to understand some of the references lol. other songs that inspired this fic: misunderstood - kodie shane, don't fight it - kodie shane, f&mu - kehlani, triggered - chase atlantic, off my head - kodie shane and then ohmami last. also this is dedicated to that anon who was screaming in my askbox for sub!riri for like a month, i saw you fren. i had too much fun writing this even though it killed my brain, i didn't even think i was gon post it fr. but anywhoo, hope y'all enjoy! mwah, mwah!!

Bright neon lights illuminated the stage, your crimson-hued silhouette resembling that of a deity from where you stood, bathing in the crowd’s continuous chant of your name. There were distinguishable cracks in the voices rushing you, throats more than likely sore from the ear-piercing screams bellowing out of them, yet still, they endured, glazed eyes stalking you in sheer adoration. Your audience clung to your every lyric, your every move down to the bounce of your sweaty curls as you pranced around the stage.

You were in your element, entrancing their minds with a power you had yet to grow used to.

In your chest, your heart gained life, its thump a deafening pound resounding in your ears; if the beating were any louder, the microphone clasped in your fist would surely pick it up. But it was yours to hear, just like the sensation of your stomach in your throat was yours to feel — the absence of your mind yours to know.

Calling your love for performing an addiction would be an understatement. You were your most authentic self on stage, every surge of adrenaline dosing the high you were jonesing for. Your confidence blossomed, not as a mirage, but as the most corporeal entity your body could conjure up, differing greatly from your branded media persona of an arrogant, entitled, asshole.

These were titles intended to condemn following the very messy breakup with your now ex-girlfriend, renowned actress Syla Slate. Gorgeous, talented, beloved by all of America; she was their sweetheart, so naturally, she won the public’s favor in the split. But your resilience had been a thing miscounted, and woefully so; you wore your scarlet letters with honor, refusing to clear up rumors surrounding your infidelity.

If there were words to be said, feelings to unpack, you would express them on the stage before the thousands of people holding your word as bond, which happened to be the exact thing you did now.

“London!” You commanded the audience with outstretched arms, your very presence eliciting a thunderous uproar. “I ain't think y'all could get any louder.”

The drove of onlookers read your disbelief as a challenge, shouts climbing the arena walls as the sharp octave punctured your eardrums.

You popped out your in-ears, unable to halt the slow smile stretching across your features. You were proud, proud that they risked the health of their voices just to hear yours. “Well alright, I guess y’all could get louder.”

They chuckled as a collective, making you follow suit, “I got one more song for you lot. That's what y’all be saying over here, right? You lot? Shidd, my southern ass wouldn't know,” They laughed again at your terrible rendition of a British accent. “Anyway, like I was saying, I got one more song, y’all cool with that?”

Just as you expected, shriek after shriek bled into one another, melding to create a boisterous sound that expanded around the O2 Arena, and you let your smile broaden as you secured your microphone back into its stand. “Ooh, y’all sound excited!”

The slowed tempo of your closing track began its waft, filling the speakers, the ears of your admirers, and your system all at once. They recognized the beat within seconds, the bass now competing with their cries.

A little bit of that arrogance you chose not to refute came peeking through as you adjusted your mic stand, “Oh y'all know this one, huh?” And they yelled again, satisfying you.

You shut your eyes, expiring a shaky breath into the grille of the mic in preparation, allowing the music to seize hold of you. Your digits trembled around the mouthpiece, and your rings scraped the surface.

Complicated, I shouldn't ever have to feel this way.

Instinctively, the lyrics vacated your mouth, and instinctively, your sockets began to well. You fought the tears, keeping your lids tight in protest of the tumble they threatened.

But, every time I try to up and walk away,

You come around and start to love me, love me better.

Your emotions and your wet eyes were both the epitome of irony. How many shows had you closed with this very song? Why were the waterworks threatening to spill now?

Complicated, I shouldn't ever have to feel this way

Perhaps they were due to the truth stewing inside you. Tonight wasn't just the last show of your tour, it would be your last live performance for a while. You would be leaving your heart on this stage tonight. A difficult decision made, but a necessary one nonetheless. Perhaps this was your body attempting to accept this fact.

Every time I try to up and walk away,

You make a promise that you'll love me, love me better

Love me, love me better

After a moment, your eyes fluttered open and the tears swelling your orbs rained down, fogging your vision. You loosened your strangle on the mic, only now realizing how tight you held to it. As you gazed at the sea of bodies, you noted their red eyes and damp cheeks. They were screaming your song back at you, your lyrics dragging through the air.

It wasn't uncommon to witness your fans crying at your shows; your music overwhelmed them; their connection to you overwhelmed them, and the vulnerability birthed from this emotional exchange overwhelmed you.

I think I'd rather just be misunderstood,

Found out your love ain't no good.

You took in the masses, scanning their dazed smiles as you continued to sing, and that's when you saw her.

Through the mist in your eyes, she emerged out of nothingness. Clad in lace, sporting that devilish smirk that curdled your blood, wearing those dark irises brewed to the brim with mischief. You could always pick her out in any crowd, which looking back, had been the commencement of your own undoing.

Had me at hello, got me with a kiss, left me in abyss.

She swayed to the music, mouthing the words with those dangerous fucking lips. Lips that could ruin your life with a single utterance, lips that did ruin your life, your relationship.

When you finally let your eyes meet, she bared her white teeth, taunting you in that way she often did. You were seething and she knew it, her swift little wink a testament to her knowledge.

You should turn away, rip your gaze from hers, focus on the tear-stained faces in the audience. You should ignore the abrupt shift in your heart’s thump, how it rattled in rage now at an uncomfortable rate. You shouldn't allow her to get to you just by simply existing.

Don’t want my heart cold, so I took it off of my neck and my wrist.

But, in an arena sculpted to house twenty thousand, a lone Riri Williams faded your performance high just by being.

God she was maddening, and inescapable it seemed, no matter the continent you ventured to. To the rest of the world, it'd look like you were serenading her in a bubble where just the two of you existed, but you both knew better. Your anger was palpable to her alone, something she counted on; you’d played this game of hers long enough to hone certain skills, like how to bury your building fury. Your muscles tensed, your knees locked in place as you returned to choking the mic yet again, sizzling under your elevating temperature.

You sang through your irritation though, spitting your venomous lyrics directly in her face as she watched, amused. She wouldn't ruin this parting performance for you.

Found out it was mostly lust but not love.

You kept your eyes on her for the duration of the song, earning jealous stares from the other girls rallying around her, their own hopes of soliciting your gaze made obvious. They were shoving, and yelling, yanking the barricade aggressively, yet still, all your focus lay on Riri. It's what she hoped for, to ensure chaos, to make it obvious she did not need to vie for your attention, she just… simply had it.

You were strengthening her pride, the last thing you sought to do, but looking away from her proved to be impossible.

Complicated, I shouldn't ever have to feel this way.

But, every time I try to up and walk away,

You come around and start to love me, love me better,

Love me, love me better…

Confetti raining from the heavens emulated her skin's shine, golden and distracting, the showers causing you to rip your stare away from her briefly. When the dust settled, she’d vanished, disappearing like she'd never existed, and you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself with a head shake.

“London, thank you, I love you. I’m gonna miss you!”

With that, the lights dimmed, giving you time to evacuate the stage swiftly and stealthily. Off you went, mind still muddled with the smugness she wore on her features as she gawked at you with feral eyes.

Riri being in town meant trouble, and you wanted no fucking part in whatever she had planned.

•••

After leaving the venue your entire body felt numb and fatigued, so you instructed your driver to take you straight back to your hotel. Typically, your routine concluding a performance would involve saying hello to fans who stayed behind after the show, you'd done it countless times, but not tonight. With Riri on the loose, you couldn't chance running into her anywhere, not in your current state of exhaustion. If she was to meet you this way, you were ashamed to admit that it would take zero effort on her part to coax you into doing whatever she wished.

You weren't too tired to be furious though, allowing the emotion to take precedence over your shame; you intended to use said fury to venture as far away from Riri Williams' deranged ass as you could manage.

The length of your silent car ride was spent with your head propped on the cool window, pondering her being in London. You didn't have to question her why; Riri fought valiantly to be wherever you were, but her how, that remained somewhat of a mystery.

How was it plausible for her to be in Europe right now? Her finals should be consuming the majority of her time, clashing with the schedule for the last leg of your tour. You knew this because you planned this.

For the first fifteen stops, there were no tour buses broken into, no dressing room locks tampered with, your shows remained uninterrupted, and you hadn't had to suffer through your usual internal battle when facing off with your biggest weakness. All was fine until tonight, your final concert.

How convenient, you thought, though you supposed her powers should in no way surprise you anymore. You knew the things Riri was capable of, experienced the fate of her actions.

Which was why you decided a quiet night in your hotel would be your chosen way of decompressing. When you pulled up to where you were staying, you shot your manager a text informing her you would not be attending the after-party thrown in your honor. Parties meant paparazzi and their intrusive questions about your relationship, or rather, the lack thereof. But most annoyingly, parties meant Riri, and her covert ways of always weaseling past security at events she presumed you to be at.

And you would pass on dealing with either scenario tonight.

The elevator chimed, doors sliding open on your floor and you stepped out, trotting swiftly toward your suite with a hot shower in mind, one that would rinse away your stressors.

Upon unlocking the door though, there was an immediate sense of something being off, the instinct an acquired habit after your colossal mistake of intertwining your life with Riri's. Every day since you'd been made to look over your shoulder. You stalked deeper into your room, eyes trailing to your rumpled white comforter pulled back as though someone had lain in your sheets.

Before you left that morning, you'd made your bed, another acquired habit, this one drilled into you by your grandmother growing up, and one you practiced diligently when sleeping in threads that weren't your own.

So naturally, with the sight laid out before you, your mind ran straight to the only person you knew could be responsible. The pillow on the right side of the bed was dented, and one of your silk button-ups from a previous concert sat in a pool on the carpet. You bent over to pick it up, pulling it to your nose for a deep inhale to find that you were indeed correct; the intoxicating aroma of Riri's perfume misted the fabric, forcing an unintentional smirk to crack across your lips. You battled against its appearance and lost, as usual.

She was here, in your room, in your bed, wearing your clothes. And recently too, her floral scent still lingering on your linens serving as proof. Your eyes rolled on command, but you decided to ignore the knowledge you'd just gained, mind still set on that well-earned shower. You figured you could still get to it, if Riri had still been around, her presence would've been made known the moment you stepped through the threshold.

Her absence indicated one thing though; she wanted you to come find her, but you wouldn't play into her hand. You were far too tired, and far too over her games.

You began a leisure strip, stepping out of your leather pants and dressing down to your undergarments before making your way to the bathroom. You stopped short when your toes met the tiled floor, gawking at the scene awaiting your attention.

Scarlet petals floated atop long departed waters, blanketing the bath that had now run cold. They were scattered across the floor as well, and the lasting whiff of outed lavender candles filled the air. A discarded bra hung off the side of the tub, matching panties too, and you sighed, stepping on the torn roses as you walked further into the bathroom. She sure knew how to make herself at home.

When you stood before the sink, your eyes dropped instantly to the counter, glued to the promiscuous polaroids littered across it.

Every last one of Riri, every last one taken in your bed. Your shirt draped her body in some, the golden shade making her skin pop beneath the material, mimicking the confetti from earlier. But she was fully naked in most, bare breasts and nipple jewelry exposed with her perfectly manicured fingers playing in her pretty cunt. You picked them up one by one, examining the images further.

The angles were impressive, you couldn't lie, and you appreciated her effort. Like her position in the picture your thumb grazed now; Riri was bent over, ass high in the air, her dripping folds glistening in the perfect shot.

The more time spent gaping at the photos, the stickier your underwear became, clinging to your own saturated cunt. Riri's effect on you wasn't some unknown thing, you were aware of it, she was damn sure aware of it, and these polaroids displayed below you were her version of a reminder, but you chose to stare anyway, reveling in the building throb at your center.

In the final one, her locs cloaked her shoulders, slightly shielding her nipples from your view. But your focus did not lie there, instead, the hefty-looking purple toy rammed into her tight hole stole your attention. It stretched her wide, the pleasure causing her head to sling backward, and those pretty lips to part, forming the most pitiful little 'o' you'd ever seen.

It was this shot that compelled your hand's betrayal, your shower partially forgotten as you slipped your digits beneath the waistband of your panties. One stroke of your swelling clit had your throat craning, imitating Riri's in the photo, a rugged moan slipping free as you splashed around in your wetness, eyes fluttering in response to the sensation.

Before you could really delve into pleasuring yourself though, you glanced at the mirror, reading the words written on it, words you'd somehow missed upon entry.

You rolled your eyes and freed your damp hands from your pussy, arousal on a mission to flee your body. It was replaced instead, by your previous rush of agitation as you reread her cheeky message.

“Did you miss me?” Scribbled across the glass in ruby-red lipstick, the question enclosed in her literal kisses.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

•••

In an interesting twist of events, you'd found yourself in the hotel bar nursing a rum and coke with your thumb looming over a poorly typed text message, those photos still weighing heavy on your head.

Under steaming streams meant to wash her likeness away, your pussy had a vastly different idea in mind, wrangling your fingers in on the plan against your will as you fucked yourself to the thought of her. You came harder than you had in weeks, though the orgasm did nothing to relax your spinning mind.

That's what the alcohol was for, or, what it was supposed to be for anyway.

You’d wandered downstairs in disgrace, desperately needing to drink your actions away. But rather than the escape you chased after, you were met with only more shame at the bottom of your glass. It was your single drink that prompted the idea of texting Syla. A risky move, and a cliché at that, texting your ex the second a drop of liquor kissed your lips. But, you’d done worse things, quite literally moments before drafting the unsent message you still stared at.

You supposed it was the guilt of your shower excursions truly driving your choice. She deserved an explanation for everything, a proper one, and providing that hadn't been an accessible opportunity over the past few months. She was busy on set, and you were on tour, battling the everlasting presence of the demon at fault for your parting.

Riri Williams.

You'd met her a year and a half ago, when your career was on the climb, and the line of girls willing to do whatever you wanted on the promise of a good fuck and a shot at being your next video vixen was unending. You never delivered on the latter part of that promise, but after experiencing the former, they hadn't the capability to mind much.

It was a routine you developed, sleeping with girls after every show, slutting them out, then sending them on their merry ways immediately after. So when the girl with full lips and sinful eyes caught your attention in a Chicago crowd, you knew immediately she was to be your next conquest.

She was alluring, unsettlingly so as she bopped to your singing with a smirk hanging off her blood-red lips. Danger lurked beneath that smirk, lying wait, and you took notice. It should've been your first sign to steer clear of the menacing beauty, but, you were stubborn by nature, and evidently your own worst enemy. So you stooped on the stage, extended your hand to meet hers, laced your fingers together, and sent the audience into a frenzy when you dedicated your celebratory ode to the soul foretold to doom your life.

Riri was the first of your plethora of playthings able to keep up with your stamina. She was fucking feral, and insatiable, hell-bent on riding your strap off of its harness. You weren't ashamed at the time to admit she was the best you’d ever had, and that was only after one night together.

You hadn't even questioned her appearances at multiple gigs and events afterward; you were way too gone off the sex to notice the sprouting problem. Much like performing, you were developing an addiction to her, and the heat between her thighs. Submerging your tongue deep within her wet walls provided the same jolt of adrenaline you received from being on stage, if not more. Bending her over to demolish her from the back got you higher than the chants from thousands of fans ever would.

When you finally did come up for air long enough to acknowledge your predicament, it had been far too late. You began to pull away, wanting to wean yourself off of the drug that was Riri. But she wasn't going for that.

Where you tried dousing your addiction into a dwindling flame, Riri's obsession flourished like a forest fire.

Denying her access to yourself was possibly the worst decision you could have ever made. It didn't stop her from finding your studio, damaging your car engine and conveniently being nearby to help fix it, she even went as far as getting jobs at the venues you played just so she could see you, only to quit directly after your set.

Her ways of maneuvering were mind-boggling, frustrating you to your very core because no matter the effort you poured into it, leaving Riri alone was a task you found to be formidable. She'd show up, and you'd give in. Every. Single. Time.

All of that came to a crashing halt when she obtained your home address, deciding to break in as some grand romantic gesture to “win you back.” You didn't read it that way, obviously, and you branded her a lunatic who had no part in your life. You fucked her like she was nothing and sent her packing, threatening a restraining order if she didn't leave you alone from then on.

Dating Syla forced you to make good on that threat. Your relationship was fairly new at the time, but you liked her enough to want to keep Riri miles and miles away from her. You were at a place of contentment in your career, the need to collect a harem of women washed from your system after the nightmare of your last encounter, and peace seemed like an obtainable thing, or at least some semblance of it, with Riri gone for good.

It's what she allowed you to believe anyway, until she'd apparently had enough of watching you be happy with a woman who wasn't her.

You'd received a text composed of the same words signed across the mirror upstairs.

Did you miss me?

And it wasn't much longer before Syla was on the line, screaming obscenities at you through the phone.

“Lying bitch.”

“Cheating ass hoe.”

“Fucking slut.”

“We're Done.”

She hung up without letting you get a word of defense in, leaving you more so angry than heartbroken. Because it was undeniable that the cause of Syla's unrest and the text on your screen somehow coincided. A truth confirmed when your phone started dinging off the hook.

Riri liked to take flicks.

“To commemorate the moment.” She'd say, and it had already been discovered that telling her no wasn't a thing you could do, so you always let her pull the camera out, far too turned on by the idea of your own personal collection of home movies with Riri in your phone.

In hindsight, you should've guessed they'd come back to bite you in the ass eventually, despite Riri's accomplished skill to manipulate. How she'd managed to convince you the tapes existed in your phone alone was embarrassingly beyond you.

Because there they all were, coming through one by one as you sat on the edge of your bed, dumbfounded.

Syla had forwarded every piece of incriminating evidence that backed up her accusations to you. There were dozens of photos, dozens of videos, all of you and Riri over the year she spent in and out of your sheets. None of them recent, but that ceased to matter. Your girlfriend had seen images of your strap down Riri's throat, watched videos of her back arching impressively for you. And your words; her ears were exposed to the vulgar phrases you hissed as you fucked Riri senseless, phrases you'd never once mouthed to her in the bedroom.

Which was why your conscience scolded you so, because the hurt dampening her words that day was unmistakable for anything else. Yet, you ignored that fact in the shower, huffing Riri's name as you permitted a climax brought on by her image to rattle your bones.

You sighed, finally hitting send on the message just as the bartender approached you, “Oof, you look like you could use another one of those. My shift ends soon, but I could make you another if you'd like.”

Her name tag read Esperanza. Pretty, you thought, a pretty name for a pretty girl. Almost pretty enough to tempt a yes out of you, “Could you ask me again, preferably in an accent that isn't as attractive as yours so I can say no? Because I really, really wanna say no.”

She laughed when you groaned in frustration, rewarding you with a blinding smile that unexpectedly heated your cheeks, “I mean I could, my Swedish accent is pretty terrible, that might work. But I won't, seeing as it's in the job description to seduce guests into buying more alcohol with my voice.”

“Is it?” You questioned with a small smirk.

“Yeah. Especially the pretty American ones like yourself.”

You opened your mouth, fully prepared to retort with something equally as flirtatious, but then your phone buzzed in your palm, capturing your attention as your eyes fell to the device in hopes of seeing Syla's name lighting the screen, only to be met with disappointment.

You wanna fuck that bitch or something?

The number unknown, but the sender was far from.

“Would you excuse me?” You spoke finally and Esperanza nodded, returning to her business of cleaning the counter down.

You stood up from the stool with darting eyes, scanning the bar for any signs of her presence but to no avail. When your phone rang, you answered it without a second thought.

“Where are you?”

Soon, Riri’s permanently teasing voice chimed in your ears, “Hi baby, you miss me?”

She giggled, and you imagined her somewhere twirling her hair around her finger, smiling innocently to herself.

You huffed into the mic, already beyond irritated with her antics, “Riri, where are you?”

“Ugh, baby, why you always so hostile?”

“I told you to stop fucking calling me that.”

“Don't be mean to me. I'm sensitive, baby.” You could hear the frown in her voice, the way her tone took a dive indicating she'd been truly hurt by your words, which only annoyed you more.

“No, you're fucking crazy.” She paused, just like you'd anticipated, and you listened for her intake of breath, smirking when the faint sound of her gasp blessed you. You knew her eye twitched like it always did, you just wished you had the pleasure of witnessing it for yourself.

“I don't like that word.” Her declaration blew through the speaker cold as ice.

You dragged your hand over your face, losing the patience you barely had to begin with. “Riri, what do you want?”

“Did you see my pictures, baby?” Just like that, she did away with the chill lacing her voice, returning it to its usual chipper pitch. “Did you like them? I figured you'd need something to… relax you after your big performance. You did so well by the way, I’m proud of you.”

The thrill that shot through you from her praise would have to go ignored, because you weren't trying to deal with any of your conflicting emotions for the psychotic girl on the other end of the call. “What do you want from me?”

“You and Esperanza looked cozy flirting at the bar. Can't say I wasn't jealous, you never talk to me like that. But if you like her, I could help get y’all together, give you a helping hand and shit. Now that you single.” She giggled slightly after finishing her last sentence.

You turned, eyeing the bar once again. It was mostly empty, save for the three girls in a corner booth, the security guard posted at the door, and yourself. Esperanza had left it seemed, clocking out like she promised, leaving you alone with the ghost of Riri on your line.

You rolled your eyes, remembering how you still suffered the ramifications from the last time she felt inclined to offer a helping hand, “Your crazy ass blew up my fucking relationship and you think I want your help?”

She remained silent for a lengthy amount of time, almost tricking you into believing the line went dead. It wasn't until you were lowering the phone from your ear that she cleared her throat, and you braced yourself for impact. “She could never satisfy you and you fucking know it. You ain't even like her for real, you just wanted a new bitch laid up under you after I stopped giving you access to this pussy baby.”

If the word delusional existed as a person, her name would be Riri Williams.

“You're fucking insane do you know that? Like something is genuinely wrong with you if you think–”

Riri cut you off, “Let's not forget I wasn't alone in our little movies baby. You can't blame your fuck ass relationship failing all on me, because if I remember correctly, you was the one holding the camera while you was blowing my shit, wasn't you?”

Your throat dried, your vision reddened, and your phone shook inside your fist. You couldn't speak because there were no words to be said. “Ri–”

“You know what? I change my mind, I won't help you with Esperanza after all. I like having you to myself anyway. You still want me, and with ole girl out the picture, we can go back to how we used to be.”

“Tell me where the fuck you are Riri.” There was a thud on her end, one that you also heard inside the bar. She was definitely somewhere close.

She tsked, “Nuh-uh baby, you gotta come find me. I got a surprise for you.”

And she hung up the phone, the beep forcing an exasperated sigh from your lips as you stood hopeless in the middle of the bar.

•••

For as long as you’d known Riri, she'd always been obsessed with the never-ending game of hide and seek she trapped you in, forcing the role of being it on you every time. She wanted you scouring the hotel for her while she waited, sitting pretty in whatever cranny she'd made herself comfortable in. She wanted you to do what you always did when you inevitably smoked her out of hiding: punish her for her bad behavior.

Fuck what she wanted.

You wouldn't give in, not this time, and what better way to ensure this case than leaving the hotel entirely? It was late, the night breeze dry as the valet pulled your brand new Ferrari GTC4Lusso around the front, the street lights reflecting off its bold cherry tint. A destination was the furthest thing from your mind when you climbed inside the car, but truthfully, you didn't require one. Driving was merely a ploy to put some distance between you and Riri.

The car’s rumble when you pulled off wasn't one loud enough to drown out your screaming thoughts, much to your dismay. You’d hoped, at the very least, that the revving engine, and the openness of the endless motorway you were now zipping down recklessly, would be enough to dampen your anger. But alas, vexation was an ever-present emotion whenever you found yourself in proximity to her, or rather, when she forced proximity between the pair of you, and it didn't emerge for the reasons you wished it did.

Your adrenaline was rocketing, heart rate spiking in tandem with the numbers on the dash as your toes pushed into the pedal, but despite all this, your sour mood remained. Because you could not discredit Riri's infuriating claim; you wanted her still. You'd endured months without her, abiding by the useless lies that failed to convince you otherwise. That lust for her taste lingered, that lust for her feel, all of it.

Lust that Syla could never satiate, and you often got the sense she wasn't heedless to that truth.

“Fuck!” You cursed aloud, eyes flickering to your dinging phone screen colored in her text messages.

You almost reached for the device resting in the mount, crippling guilt once again driving your decision-making. But you reminded yourself you were behind the wheel, just as an identifiable sensation against your bobbing larynx sent a chilling shiver down your spine, and molded you still in your seat. Briefly, cautiously, you allowed your eyes to leave the road, causing the car to swerve unintentionally into another lane when your gaze became acquainted with the object pinning you down. Beautiful, black, and blinding; the razor-edged blade tacked to your flesh was accompanied by the sweetest pain, and a deeply sultry voice. “We don't text and drive, baby. Leave the bitch on delivered.”

When she spoke, it irritatingly settled your breathing, but not enough to assist you in regaining control of the steering wheel clutched in your fists. There were other cars on the road honking at your continued shifting, but what could you really do when there was an insane girl holding a knife to your throat as you drove? “Riri...”

“I told you to come find me and you didn't.” She spat harshly. Just your fucking luck, she was upset.

“Riri, Ima crash this fucking car if you don't move that shit from my throat.”

She ignored you of course, opting to press the knife in harder. If it were her goal, she could break through skin, the choking pressure indicative of the power she wielded, and in any other circumstance you'd probably be enjoying her lethal way of incapacitating you. “Why didn't you come find me? I was waiting for you.”

“I'm not finna play this game with your psychotic ass tonight Riri. I said fucking move that shit.”

Once again, your cry fell on deaf ears. She kept her hand looped around the driver's seat, knife firm in her fingers as she tightened her grip on the decorative, golden handle.

You listened to her airy exhale, flinched beneath its warmth when it plowed into your expecting cheek, and it was then that you allowed your glare to capture hers in the rearview mirror. Her lips, pouty and red-stained, twitched at the corners, morphing into a foreboding smirk that traveled straight up to her smoky eyes. Eyes that were deep, eyes that were dark, and exceedingly dangerous; like a void you were destined to forever fall victim to.

Riri launched her body forward, nibbling on your bare earlobe. “You're being mean again baby. Real mean for somebody with a knife pressed to they throat right now.”

The sting from the blade began to heighten, building into a burn so glorious, it shot through your limbs, and you found yourself inadvertently tilting your head backward to relish in the hurt.

“I could slit your fucking throat right now and you wouldn't even be quick enough to stop me.”

Words of your own were difficult to come by, you were entirely consumed with combatting the violent throb increasing in your pants, all amidst your efforts to keep you both alive in the drifting Ferrari, but it seemed your soul was the only one inside the car yearning to live another day. “Ri–”

“Just kidding!” The dagger levitated, undoing its imprint in your flesh, and you coughed, one hand instantly flying up to your bruised throat while the other remained on the wheel, regaining full control of the vehicle.

She planted a long, sloppy kiss on your cheek before climbing over into the passenger seat, giggling all the while.

“Jesus fucking Christ Riri, what the actual fuck?!” You spared her a glance, of course she was grinning.

“Were you scared for your life, baby?” She giggled again, biting her lip as she tried reaching for your phone, but you smacked her hand away before she could get to it. “Rude!”

You sighed, “How the hell did you get in here, Riri?”

“Mmm, semantics.” She huffed, seemingly bored.

You relaxed, eyes fixed back on the road now that you were somewhat confident Riri wouldn't be slicing you open. Your muscles loosened and you fell into a leisure position, tossing an irritated scowl her way. “What are you doing in London? You should be at school. Don't you have finals and shit?”

“Aww, look at you all concerned about my studies. You're so cute, baby.” You tried your hardest not to cringe at the pet name and the heat it churned inside your abdomen. “But, obviously I had to see you. You all single now, your tour just ended, and you announced that hiatus, I didn't know when I'd get the chance again. Aren't you happy I'm here?”

“Not at all.”

She frowned, “That's not funny.”

“I wasn't tryna be fucking funny, you shouldn't be here.”

You hadn't needed to see her face to know a smirk played in her features. “You didn't think that lil restraining order was gon stretch all the way across the pond did you? They don't got jurisdiction over me out here baby. I can be as close to you as I want.”

You groaned inwardly, unaware of who you were truly annoyed with; Riri and her actions, or yourself for being so damn turned on listening to her insane logic. She was correct, because you knew that her stunt with Syla wasn't a one-off, and you'd eventually be seeing her again.

Riri was immensely smart, so it made sense that she waited until you were no longer on American soil to corner you, and making you think you'd finally escaped her by being in Europe had to certainly be part of her plan as well. Fuck, why was her conniving nature so damn sexy?

“How did you get in my car?” You asked again.

“I'm not that big, and you should know by now that I'm very…” Riri paused, deliberating on the word she wished to use. “Efficient, when it comes to getting into places I probably shouldn't be in.”

“Yeah, cause you're crazy.”

You could see Riri's body turning towards you in your peripheral, she bent her knees in the seat, eyes locked on your form as she skillfully maneuvered her knife in between her digits. “You like your tongue, baby?”

“What?”

She sneered, “Your tongue. Do you like it?”

“The fuck are–”

“Cause I like your tongue. When it's inside me, when it's rolling over my clit. Yeah, I actually kinda love your tongue, and I really, really want you to keep it.” She surged forward with a quickness, almost diving the point of her ebony dagger through your jugular. “So Ima suggest you stop fucking calling me that shit, I'd hate to have to cut it out.”

All you could do was roll your eyes. “Dramatic ass.”

“And you love it.” She plopped back into the seat with a satisfied smile, extending her legs so they now rested in your lap, to which you did not protest.

Riri giggled, reaching into the bosom of her dress to retrieve a small, clear baggie harboring those circular blue pills that she loved so much. Her wet tongue awaited the tablet's arrival, extending out of her mouth in preparation for its landing. And you turned, one hand on the wheel as you watched a gradual cerulean bleed cover her tastebuds. “Want one?”

“No.” All your attention shifted back to the road and your lack of destination. You'd left the hotel to get away from Riri, yet here you were, essentially taking a fucking joyride with her after she broke into your brand-new car.

“Ugh, lame.” She stashed the pills back inside her titties, once again reaching for your phone, and this time you didn't stop her. “Can I put my song on?”

Your brow quirked, “Your song?”

Riri nodded, “Yes, my song. The song you wrote for me!”

“You think I give enough of a fuck about your deranged ass to write a song about you?” You did, write a song about her that was, a couple in fact. All of them about your reprehensible escapades with the groupie who wouldn't leave you alone, the groupie who you couldn't leave alone.

Your entanglement with Riri had managed to bypass public perception, the only thing you executed correctly when it came to her, so her name had never been in the running when the speculations of who your last album could've been about arose. You knew she'd figure it out though, because of course she would.

She kicked your thigh, causing you to smack her ankle in retaliation. “You do. I'm your muse.”

You bellowed a hearty, sarcastic laugh. "My muse? Oh, you're very unwell, Riri." She pointed the blade your way as a warning, causing you to grin triumphantly. "And which song you think I wrote about you?”

“Don't play dumb baby, you can't pull that shit off.” Riri placed your phone back into its holder, her lips curling into a bashful smile when your voice drifted from the speakers, and her song coasted the car's air.

We done played all these games,

Only now I can't wait, I want you now, I can't wait, oh yeah.

The track she chose had indeed been one she inspired. It was also one you avoided entirely, purposefully leaving it off the set list for all of your shows. But again, here you were, subjected to listening to Riri's painfully off-key rendition of the lyrics that symbolized the relationship you two shared.

But she just wanna off my head, I just want the neck instead.

She just wanna fight in bed, I wanna get high instead, oh yeah.

“You think this is about you?” You teased, only seeking to rile her up. “This could be about any of the other girls I done fucked.”

“You know I can't leavе you alone? You know I could never tell you no? Hmm, definitely sound like this is about me. Cause I know you wasn't running back to none of them other hoes like you was running back to me, let's be for real.” She continued to sing, spreading her legs in the process.

It was muscle memory that had your hand descending to her ankle perched in your lap, making you squeeze it before you began to massage it in the way only you knew she liked. And the smile that you failed to disguise when she whimpered was one of instinct, not intention.

“How many girls have you f-fucked on tour, baby?” The question straggled out of her mouth behind a breathy moan.

You hadn't wanted to award her inquiry with any sort of answer, largely in part due to the answer being one that would please her, so you elected to lie.

“A few.” You retorted with a sanguine smirk you deemed sharper than the blade she flaunted, but when your gaze panned her way, the sight awaiting you dulled your smile into a flaccid frown.

She was bunching her dress, thumbing the fabric of her underwear once the hem circled her waist. “Mmm, that's a l-lie.”

Riri made you weak, downright helpless and impotent whenever her authentic huffs of pleasure gained volume. So it wasn't the least bit surprising when her whines from beside you nabbed your attention from the freeway, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything apart from the wet sounds emitted by her dripping center.

Your eyes drifted, and you stifled a moan of your own when you realized she'd graduated from touching herself with her fingers. Riri had the blade locked in her fist, dragging the handle up, down, and around her throbbing clit above her panties.

“Riri, what are you doing?” You bit your lip, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

She slipped her sticky panties to the side, finally bridging the gap keeping the hilt of the knife apart from her eager cunt. “If you was fucking bitches I would know. Sticking to your rule I see.” You watched the tip of the handle orbit her hole, just before it slowly sank in, getting swallowed by her grip all the way up to the bolster. “F-Fuck baby, I guess this p-pussy really changed your life, huh?”

“I don't want your fucking pussy juice all over my seat. This car is new.” Your scolding tone was feigned, only in an attempt to express a fragment of restraint, but truthfully, every ounce of it slipped swiftly away from you the second you bore witness to that molly hitting her tongue.

You weren't even sure if you were driving on the right side of the road, far too fixated on keeping your composure as your fibers mastered the art of persuasion. They insisted you pull over and allow your fingers to replace the knife, have your tongue relieve the shiny gold hook of its lewd duty of fucking Riri's cunt.

She was thrashing, pumping the back end of the blade in and out, in and out as her squishy pussy sang to you. “Am I the f-first g-girl you let r-ride in your new 'Rari, baby? Ooh, I feel so special.”

“I'm not letting you, your crazy ass broke in. And I mean it, close your damn legs.”

You did the only thing you could think of to get her to stop: you pushed the pedal to the floor, the speed sucking you into the seat as the car surged forward. But beside you, Riri remained a moaning, giggling mess. It was like your accelerated driving, and your admonishments motivated her to fuck her cunt faster as she slicked the knife, making herself wetter. “Hear h-how wet this pussy is for you b-baby? You haven't even t-touched me and I'm fucking drenched. Oh, oh! Shit!”

“Do not fucking come on my seat Riri.”

“Or what? You gonna p-punish me?” She used her free hand to rub coaxing circles into her twitching clit, biting down on her lip as the tool dove deeper into her stretched hole, prodding her sensitive spot just right. “Fuck! It f-feels so good! I'm close!"

You took your eyes off the road, watching her lids droop from the pleasure building deep within, tuning in to the cry clamoring from her tightening stomach.

“Don't.” But you knew she would.

“I can't baby. I-I… Oh fuck!” She groaned, long and breathy, her back arching inward, chest bouncing rapidly from the build-up. Riri screeched the second her orgasm knocked her down, and it was the sexiest sound you'd ever heard. Droves of bliss pillaged her frail body, and she shook violently next to you. “I'm s-sorry... I-I c-couldn't.”

“It's okay.” You were soothing her as she declined from her climax.

The handle glided out of her used pussy, dragging out strings of her oozing cum with it, and the hilt glistened brighter than it did before her hole consumed it. Your quick glances from the knife to the road, from the road to Riri’s seeping cunt weren't enough, you needed to taste her, and it was apparent that she read your mind. “Wanna taste?”

You tried for reluctance, at least your brain did, your body not so much. A steady nod was your only offer, eyes never leaving the road ahead, and you could sense Riri’s grin after receiving your answer. She was excited, pleased, surprised that you gave into her off the first ask, usually she'd have to work harder to earn your compliance. She was on her knees seconds later, left hand propping her up on the center armrest while her right carried the glimmering dagger to your mouth.

She smeared the tip across your full lips, her slickness coating them like gloss, and out came your tongue, drinking in her juices like a parched animal. As always, Riri's cum tasted fucking fantastic, but you refused to give her the satisfaction of moaning. “You like?”

You remained silent, and she smirked, “You love.” She beamed, tapping your mouth, “Open wide baby.”

She was taunting you, this you knew. You were also aware that you were on the verge of doing exactly as she requested without a lick of shame, and you glared at her, unimpressed.

“Please? For me?” She whined.

You couldn't resist her pout, you couldn't resist her, not anymore. So immediately, you promptly parted your lips, offering the stem of the dagger a seat on your watering tongue, your saliva mingling with Riri's sweet, sweet nectar.

This time you did moan, and loud too, fueling her fire just like she wanted, just like you always did. You twirled your tongue around it, sucking and licking every last drop of her creamy cum off the knife handle.

“Backseat. Now.” The only words out of your mouth when she pulled the hilt free, and she clapped, climbing over you as you smacked her ass before pulling the car over on the side of the highway.

•••

“Bend over.” You tried tearing your lips from hers as you spoke, but Riri snagged your bottom lip between her teeth, biting fiercely while her cunt brushed your lap. She kept her eyes on yours, smirking, wanting you to behold the peril swallowing her pupils when she slipped the point of her blackened blade between the buttons of your shirt. She dragged it down, the sharp knife popping each one clean off until your top flew open under her swift slicing.

Your own eyes twinkled encouragingly; you were far too into this; you always enjoyed those seldom moments when you permitted Riri's belief that she held the upper hand.

The tip of her pointed dagger grazed the valley of your unbound breasts, their exposure earning her marvel as she used the bountiful view to aid her desperate humps against your thigh. And you could hear her pussy, you could feel the sticky puddle created by streaks of her first climax seeping through her thin underwear. Her moans were so broken and docile, it almost seemed criminal to make her stop, but you needed her splayed across you.

“You gon make me say it again, mami? You know how I like you.”

With fogged-out eyes, she nodded, stealing one more kiss and shoving the knife into your palm before stretching her small body across the extended center column. Her plump ass elevated to eye level, and you sat back to enjoy the view presented to you.

Lace complimented her skin's deepness far too well. The material embraced her curves, molding to her hips like a second skin, and you nearly let guilt get the better of you for the actions that followed. Your movement was one of speedy precision as you slashed through the bottom half of Riri's dress with the blade she awarded to you, making her gasp.

“This good baby? This how you wanted me?” She backed up a little, seeking some sort of comfort and it clicked then, that this position must be an awkward one for her with the armrest slanting her, and jabbing right into her abdomen.

You bit your swollen lip, moaning from the sweet pain left behind by Riri’s incisors. “Mhmm,” The blade's handle trailed her sticky crotch, “Just like this mami.”

In seconds, you were cutting her cunt free from her messy underwear, kneading and jiggling her exposed ass cheeks in your hot hands. But your pace wasn't up to her liking, and Riri never shied away from voicing her opinion. “You moving too fucking slow. If you gon hi–”

Before her complaint could force its end out of her mouth your palm collided with the meat of her ass, hitting her with unruly force. Her body jerked on top of you, and she yelped, the fragile screech music to your ears. “What you was saying, mami?”

Riri groaned under the rush of pain, then exhaled, and you took this as your opportunity to slap her behind again.

As you ran your hand along her bare skin, you absorbed the heat drummed up from your two hits alone, chuckling. You skimmed the area with your nails, growing more excited watching her twitch. You'd almost forgotten how hopelessly responsive her body was to your touch, even under the faintest brush of it.

“You're a fucking problem.” You slammed an open palm up against her right cheek, smiling at the ripples the collision created in her skin. “Do you even know what you do to me?”

Of course she knew how her actions dictated your decisions, how her guise plagued every divot in your brain. Riri understood her power over you, and it was this very knowledge that had you spanking her again, and again, and again.

“H-Harder!”

Her ass was hot, sore, and damn near swollen. Her tears were heavy streams rolling from her eyes and into her gaping mouth, yet still, she desired more. A resilient little thing she was; you admired her moxie. With every lash, her sopping pussy called on your digits, needing them to plug the dribbling hole expanding the wet patch already existing on your thigh.

“You like that shit don't you? Being in pain?” Your handprint painted her butt cheek, pulling a guttural scream from her throat. “That scream wasn't an answer to my question mami.”

She was full-on bawling, blubbering in your lap when your fingers forced their way inside her cunt unexpectedly, and she lurched.

She sniffled. “Yes! I l-like it!”

“Then shut the fuck up and stop fucking crying.” You smacked her tired ass for the umpteenth time, sliding your fingers through her soaked folds, coating them with all the slick you could collect before ramming them back within her welcoming walls. “You asked for this shit, and you gon take it like the slut you are.”

“Y-You hit like a b-bitch.”

You spanked her once, twice, three times, four times, five; each hit reprimanded her unacceptable behavior as she sobbed with the brown seat leather aching between her shaking fingers.

She wiggled in your grip, wanting desperately to escape the hurtful blows that just kept coming, smack after smack after smack echoing throughout the car. “Not you tryna run Ri, thought I hit like a bitch. Nah, bring that ass back here.” You laughed.

“Please!” Each of her screams made you fuck her pussy faster, encouraged you to slap her ass harder just to revel in her burning skin as Riri cried herself to the edge of her second orgasm.

You pushed up against her nerves, thumb swatting brashly against her swollen clit. “You squeezing my fingers real tight mami, that must mean you finna come.”

“I'm, I'm…” Riri kicked her feet, whining around the deepness of your digits. When she glanced back at you your heart softened just a little. Her big brown eyes were blown the fuck out, leaking fat tears and mascara that seemed never-ending, and she chewed on her lip hoping the action would alleviate some of the hurt. “C-Com…”

Your thrusts slowed, and your hits morphed into a massage as you groped her cheeks tenderly. “Yeah, give it to me, come on my fingers, come all over them.”

“Ooh, baby you f-fucking me s-so good! I’m coming for you!”

She poked her ass out, twisting from side to side as she permitted spasming shocks of pleasure to surge throughout her body at a rapid pace, still backing up into your digits that had yet to depart her hole. “That's it, fuck yourself on my fingers Ri. Show me you can be a good girl, fuck yourself through it.”

It was a difficult thing you’d tasked her with, but luckily for her, Riri thrived off hardship. When the aftershocks subsided, her movements halted and she sighed, moaning low in her throat at the gentle pace in which you extracted your digits from inside her.

“Sit up and come taste it.” You commanded, rolling your eyes when she looked back at you weakly.

With your hand inching toward the hair hanging over her sweaty back, you looped the ends in your fist, yanking her body up until she shifted, then you turned her so her sore ass could plummet right onto the slim storage compartment she was just bent over. “I said sit up.”

Her naked cheeks being forced against the car’s leather prematurely earned you a painful cry. But you didn't care, the reaction only adding to your arousal. You used her parted, wincing lips as an opportunity to stuff her swollen mouth full of your cum covered fingertips, and she gagged from the intrusion before beginning a light suckle. “That's my good girl. Suck them clean for me. You like how you taste?”

“Mhmm.” She hummed around the digits you thrusted in and out of her mouth.

“I know, mami.” You moaned, feeling your clit jump in your pants. “Open your legs, lemme taste that pussy I just made come.”

Riri giggled, separating her sticky legs to grant your salivating tongue entrance. They made a loud squish when she spread them apart, and you could hardly contain your grunt when presented with her messy, bare, pussy lips; your drug of choice. Her cunt's shine danced like diamonds, entrancing you with a beaming glow that could not go ignored. “Shit…”

You reached out for the lever on the driver's side that pushed the seat forward, never once denying yourself face time with her spilling sex. And then you were dropping to your knees, licking your lips before burrowing open-mouth kisses into her sprawled, wet thigh.

Easing her into it failed to make your list of priorities, you wanted her wriggling, squirming with her legs trembling around your face as you slurped her folds. You were also on a mission to feed the starvation gnawing at your gut; it'd been too long since you last feasted on her, and you didn't plan on letting a single drop go to waste.

Your tongue nudged her pulsing clit, licking firmly before you wrapped your thirsty lips well around it, and Riri screeched. “W-Wait baby, wait… Ooh shit.”

And so it began, her pleas for a pause, for you to slow down and allow her to regain her strength. But sadly, her wants were of no importance to you. You trudged on, running your famished tongue around her sweet hole before slipping it all the way in. Riri tapped your head aggressively when you began a slow thrust through her aching walls, and you laughed when your eyes drifted up to see her scrunched face.

“Fuck! Oh.. w-wait..”

“What I'm waiting for Ri? You getting soft on me?”

It was apparent that your comment struck the nerve you intended it to, her huff of annoyance lighting a smile across your face. You refused to let up, licking and sucking the length of her leaking core as she jerked in between broken grumbles. “Ain't nobody s-soft. Eat it r-right and I won't have no c-complaints. Fuck!”

You simply shook your head before diving back into her pussy, rolling her clit in your tongue once more. She whined, the drugs in her system clearly heightening her stimulation, but she took it like a champ, moaning your name breathlessly from above you with her head thrown back.

Riri fisted your curls as you sucked her watering cunt, whimpering where she sat, hips rolling hard into your already stuffed mouth. “Yes! Yes! Just like that!”

“Fuck, I missed this pussy so much.”

“Yeah?” She huffed, tugging your hair to detach you from her center so your stares would align.

Wild eyes scanned your drenched face over, then she tilted your chin, boring straight through your soul with her hopeful gaze. “You missed me?”

You knew what she wanted, and you were fully prepared to give it to her.

“Yes.” Your answer elated her. It didn't matter that in your mind you were admitting to missing her cunt and the way it drooled cum right onto your accepting tongue, to Riri you were confessing to something far more intimate; to Riri you were confessing that you missed her.

The one word, the yes, was enough to bring her to the brink of her third orgasm. But she wouldn't win that easily. You stopped then, just as she was about to fall over the edge, and you let her saturated labia fall freely from your lips before smirking up at her through plotting pupils.

“The fuck are you doing? I was about to come!”

“Ion know, it don't seem like you want it enough.” You teased, making her whine in annoyance. “Need you to beg.”

You'd learned fairly early on that Riri Williams was not a girl easily deterred. With your refusal to allow her release, the job fell on her to complete. Carefully, Riri began to drag her puffy pussy along the lid of the storage compartment she was perched on, hissing in both pain and pleasure as she attempted to make herself come.

You watched her, forever wonder-strickenn by her fortitude. You should stop her, she’d already undergone one orgasm that didn't come from your hands or mouth, and you didn't want that happening again, but the image of her working through the pain brought on by her sore ass cheeks creating friction against the leather was a sight to behold.

“I’m so c-close! Please can I come?!” Her hands found her erect nipples, the standing nubs threatening to rip their way out of her dress. “Please, let me come!”

Her pussy sloshed against the column, her hip jolts splashing her wetness everywhere. Granting her permission would be easy, considering how badly you wanted to enclose her clit in between your lips again, have her juices course your veins like your own personal brand of ecstasy as she convulsed from the shock waves you caused to ripple throughout her body. But you weren't looking for easy, not tonight, not after her behavior.

Your fingers located her waist, holding her still and making her groan in frustration when your strength prohibited her humping. “Mm, do you deserve it?”

“Yes I fucking deserve it!” She yelled, irritated, “Let me fucking come oh my god!”

“That mouth mami. How you gon talk to me like that and think Ima let you come? Hmm?” You parted her thighs, nuzzling your face back into the sweaty space before planting a kiss on her hot skin. “Say you're sorry.”

“No!”

You'd predicted her protest, and you took it as your opening to sink your teeth into her pretty waist. You didn't stop amidst her wails, instead, you dove deeper, biting her flesh with more ferocity. “Say you're sorry Ri.”

Still, she shook her head, standing her ground.

Fuck, you loved how stubborn she was, but you'd never admit that out loud. Luck had been on her side it seemed, because she gave in merely seconds ahead of you puncturing skin, weeping through her words. “I'm s-sorry! I'm s-sorry, baby pl-ease let me come!”

Truthfully you were in awe of how long she held out, surprised by even your own restraint with her pussy lips shoved directly in your face. You were spitting on her bud soon after, suckling her bundle of nerves harshly as you hummed into her quivering sex. “Come in my mouth mami.”

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Within seconds of your go-ahead, Riri was gushing onto your face, your seats, squirting on everything in her vicinity with a scream so powerful, the hairs on your neck rose to attention.

“Shit Ri, you made a mess all over my fucking seats. I told you this car is new.”

She awarded you a weak chuckle, on the edge of collapse before you steadied her frail body. “You think I give a damn, baby? You can clean all that shit up with your mouth if you so bothered.”

Her smirk was a thing contrived of pure, unbridled deception, and she sported the smoky eyes to match. These were reasons to incite terror, but for you, they only bustled your intrigue.

•••

The blade danced beneath the strap of Riri's dress, leisurely cutting her shoulder free and you watched from in front of her as the frayed fabric fell gracefully away from her skin. “You putting a lot of power in my hands right now Ri.”

“Mhmm. What you gon do with it baby?”

You moved to the other, repeating your destructive motion before finally positioning the gold-trimmed point at her clavicle, gliding the jagged dagger down her chest. Thread after thread bursted under your descent, doing away with everything left of her torn gown, exposing more of Riri's tender flesh.

Riri watched, bewitched by the way you skillfully maneuvered the blade she'd entrusted to you. “You so fucking pretty mami.”

Words that made her brazen, words that bestowed upon you the power to control her body without the need of a weapon. But you used it still, grazing the edge up her bare stomach as she twitched beneath its scrapes. You stopped once you met her bra, slicing it clean down the middle with your lust-filled eyes glued to hers. Riri gasped, startled by your abruptness and the twinge of danger you knew she caught swimming in your irises when her boobs bounced free, and the small baggie of pills fell from its warm hiding spot.

“You sure you don't want one?” She waved it in your face, and you began to contemplate her question. Riri was no stranger to a pill or two, so her enthusiasm hadn't been a surprise. She always offered, and you always declined, more than content with the natural high you floated on from merely making her come undone for you.

Tonight though, something about the tension building in the car was about to coerce a yes right on out of you. But, something else thieved your attention just as you were about to offer her an answer.

Letters. A word. A name. Your name.

Inscribed into her flesh, squarely below her left breast sitting gorgeously in your face, was a tattoo illustrating your name. You blinked, believing you'd somehow imagined the ink and its placement. Unconsciously, you hoisted the knife up toward the tattoo, running the dagger along each and every letter in amazement.

“Do you like it, baby?” Meek words leaving generally poised lips.

Riri had marked herself in your name, in you. And you decided you did indeed like it, you loved knowing that no matter where she ventured, no matter whose fingers wandered her skin, your claim on her would still exist. Permanently. “This my surprise? Cause yeah, I do like it mami.”

You let your lips replace the blade, kissing the tattoo that exemplified your ownership of her body as she giggled from the heat your breath blew onto her.

“Not your main surprise, but I guess it's a s-surprise.”

Soon your lips were latched to her poking nipple, your tongue swirling and tugging on it. She was moaning, a sound that intensified when she felt the sharp jab of the weapon you wielded circle her other bejeweled nub. “Shit… that hurts so damn good baby. Keep it right there.”

Her whimpers traveled directly to your sopping pussy still locked away in your pants. You were swimming in your own wetness, floating atop a wave that threatened to crash down on you the longer you dragged the same knife she held to the column of your throat around her responsive tits. “Yeah? It hurts?”

“L-Love when you make me hurt baby.”

After letting go of her spit-covered nipple, you flattened the sharp tool against it, watching her hiss under the cool contact. You scuffed the steel bar poking through her pebbled nipple with the knife, humming on key with the scraping sound of metal on metal. “I can keep hurting you, or you can give me that surprise I know you want me to have so bad.”

You aligned the pretty dagger with her sweaty neck, and she grinned menacingly. Before the chance to process her guile even arose, Riri regained control of the knife, using it to assist her in widening your mouth. She wiped the back against your tongue, swiping it down the length of your wet muscle. “Your surprise is up next, in the meantime I need you to stick this tongue out for me before I cut it clean off like I promised.”

“You're cute.” You laughed, but you did as she said. Your tongue extended out, and Riri leaned forward, plopping one of her little happy pills directly in the center, waiting for you to swallow it.

“Extraordinary.” She smirked. And then her lips were on yours, kissing you roughly as she sat her naked form in your lap.

•••

Riri attacked your lips with gusto, kissing you like the air you expelled into her was the very breath she desired for survival, and every one of your pecks matched her intensity. “Baby, lemme make you feel good.”

She broke the kiss slowly, tentative in her release of your hot, wanting mouth. But you refused to let her go, holding and compressing her throat amidst her hand fumbling around on the floor. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm…” A second attempt to pull away made you curious as to what she could be searching for. Usually, her main method of action would be to eat you out until your quaking knees detained her head in their hold, and even then she'd still refuse to let up. But that didn't seem to be her intention here.

You groped her boobs, trying your hardest to pinch one of her sparkly nipples, but yet another threat was tossed your way. This time it was your fingers in jeopardy of severance, so you let her go with a deep chuckle. She leaned to the side, pulling her backpack free from under the front seat and you looked at her inquisitively.

Riri upheld her silence, unzipping the bag from her perched position in your lap.

“What–”

Your question hadn't the chance to escape your lips, because soon the lavender glint of the sizable toy Riri used in the photos dispersed across your bathroom counter reflected in your curious eyes. “Tada!”

“Riri what is that?”

“Um, the fuck does it look like?” She tossed you the harness, worming out of your lap and onto the floor in between the driver's seat and the one you sat in now. Your eyes raked the dildo, examining its shape and the intricacies put into its creation. It looked more… advanced than the ones you were used to, an observation that awakened your fascination.

Riri on the other hand, appeared beyond excited. She fumbled with your belt impatiently before deciding to hack at it with her sharp tool. She popped your button open, and mechanically, your hips levitated so she could guide your bottoms down your legs.

“You this wet and you was talm bout some you not happy to see me. Just be lying for no reason baby.” She laughed, tracing a finger over your pulsating clit and you sighed. With all the straining, and all the buildup you'd been suffering through, that lone stroke could've been enough to do you in, a fact Riri was privy to when she smiled up at you. “Strap up baby, need you inside me.”

You wasted no time assembling the strap and securing the toy in place, and with Riri’s help, the harness was adjusted to your body. She positioned herself across the center console for a second time, sticking her ass out as you kneeled behind her in the seat, admiring the display of her used hole. She backed up onto nothing, trying, and failing to get the tip inside on her own. “You're taking too long! Please, I need you!”

Fuck, you supposed by now Riri's unwavering stamina shouldn't be a thing that caused bewilderment, but it would forever be an entertaining sight. She was sexiest like this; eager; desperate for you to destroy her. “You need it so bad, don't you mami?”

“Yes! Please fuck me!”

She needed not to state her demand again, so you snaked your palm around the tip, pumping it gently before invading Riri's soaked cunt.

The instant you bottomed out, Riri trapped the strap inside her narrowing walls, restricting your movement at the same time your eyes began to roll to the back of your mind. Her wetness, her constricting tightness, the heat derived from stretching her velvety cunt wide; you could feel all of her. It was way too overwhelming, the stimulation weakening your muscles.

You hadn't even gotten a single stroke in and you were already fighting off an orgasm, gripping firmly to her hips in hopes of stopping your collapse. “W-What– Why can– Ri, I can f-feel you. Shit…”

You remained still for a few beats, wanting, needing to savor the snugness of Riri’s warmth before drilling her as she deserved. Her squeeze was intense enough to make your eyes well just a little, and you were certain whenever you did allow that pleasure rush to stifle you, the tears would be unavoidable.

“Surprise! You like it, baby? I made it special for you.”

Of course she made it. You pulled out slowly, then pushed back in, still consumed by the sensation, barely able to keep a steady rhythm as you rocked into her dribbling pussy. “Fuck Ri, this is…”

“Shit! Tell me how good my pussy feels, I'm tight, huh?” Your stamping fingers dented her skin as you began to create a rapidly growing pace of stuffing her full of the faux dick she craved so much, and your thrusts had her quaking around you. Feeling every divot in her pussy walls had only ever been a fantasy, one that existed now as your reality, because you unknowingly chose to fuck a super genius who just so happened to be a little off her rocker.

If you thought you were addicted to her cunt before, this strap just changed the game entirely.

You were fucking her with abandon once completely adjusted, snapping into her again and again with an unrelenting grip on her hips; you’d be admiring the marks you left behind later on. Each thrust sent Riri’s small body forward on the armrest, her cries meshing with your breathy moans that fogged the car windows. “Ooh mami, you so fucking tight. Your crazy ass really made a strap so I can feel this pussy, god.”

Your hips crashed into her bouncing ass cheeks, the impact forcing rushed whines out of her throat. You couldn't tell if the sounds were intended to be words, but truthfully you didn't care, far too enraptured by the feeling of fucking her obnoxiously loud cunt.

Every thrust caused her seeping pussy to squish louder, every squish making your clit thump faster as your high began its heightening.

“Your desperate ass always so damn wet for me, I bet you don't let nobody else fuck you, huh? You know I’m the only one who can treat this pussy right.”

She groaned, attempting to speak through your abusive jolts, “Don't f-flatter yourself, I let plenty of other people hit. This ain't y-your p-pussy.”

It was a trap, an obvious one designed to rile you up, but you chose to fall victim anyway, using the molly floating in your bloodstream to control the power dives you took into her tired little cunt. “Oh it ain't?”

She couldn't even speak with the tip of the strap bludgeoning her sensitive nerves, but she still shook her head defiantly. Riri’s hole gobbled up the girthy toy impressively as you leaned back to marvel at the way it disappeared, then reemerged from inside her convulsing walls.

“Why she leaking this much then? Messing up my fucking seats. So damn wet mami.” You slammed into her cervix. “You make special straps for all them other bitches? You let them slut your nasty ass out on the highway like this? Who else you let use your needy little pussy like this?”

Riri was sobbing, loud and boisterous, almost able to give your screaming fans a run for their money with her pitiful little sounds. A few cars honked on their drive past your parked vehicle, certainly aware of the goings on inside. The Ferrari rocked in tandem with your jabs into Riri’s g-spot, the back and forth motion assisting you in pushing deeper into the smaller girl's sex.

“You hear me talking to you don't you Ri?” A deliberate slap met her welted ass cheek, forcing her to scream. “Why you so quiet? This wet ass pussy louder than that fucking mouth right now. You hear that?”

You fucked her harder, grunting loudly into the air when she squeezed your shaft; she was close.

“Pl-ease!”

“This dick shutting you up or something? Pl-ease what?” You mocked, spanking her again, and rattling her entire being.

She pushed back on the unrelenting curved member digging her out, a whimpering mess when she glanced back at you, catching your eyes with her helpless ones. “Wan– Wanna c-come! M-Make this pussy come for you!”

You tsked, “Thought this wasn't my pussy though. Can't make you come if this ain't my pussy.”

Her broken voice made your cock twitch deep inside her, something you hadn't expected and couldn't control.

“M’sorry, it's yours! M'sorry, it's your pussy b-baby, pleaseee!” She cried, squirming as you rammed into her special spot.

“Fuck… What you sorry for Ri?” You tugged on her locs.

You freed one of her hips, looping your hand under her sweaty abdomen so your digits could press into her clit. God, it was too much for her, the endless pounding, the swift flicking of her bud, the jarring hair pulling. You were barely able to move inside her contracting cunt, but you weren't letting her off that easily. “Tell me what you sorry for.”

“All of it, baby all of it! Sorry for s-sending those videos to y-your girlfriend, s-sorry for breaking into your room, your car, s-sorry for hurting that girl at the bar! I'm sor–”

Your thrusts stopped, “You did what?”

“I didn't mean t-to…”

Cautiously, you pulled the strap from inside her reluctant cunt, falling back into the dampened, sticky seat in disbelief.

And Riri followed you, outwardly panicked when she dropped into your lap. She hung her head in shame as she rambled, wanting to explain herself. “She was just flirting with you and you were flirting back, and I didn't like that, cause you're mine, and–”

You thought back to the bar, to Esperanza, to the thud you heard when you were on the phone with Riri earlier, and you tilted her chin so she could look you in the eyes. “Riri… what did you do to her?”

A sound you hadn't expected, but most certainly should've anticipated rumbled out of her: a chilling chuckle. Gone was her frown, in its place stretched a smile that accentuated her unruly eyes. And of course, her seductive response to your pressing question was not an adequate answer. “Put it back in baby, or I’ll fucking bleed you dry.”

You smirked, teasing her clit with the head of the strap. “Crazy girl.”

Damn her, you shouldn't be enjoying this, but you became smitten with the idea of her hurting someone all because she wanted you to herself. It was sick, you were sick, maybe just as sick as her.

Her pussy was dripping onto your dick, coating the length of it with each grind meant to coax you back into fucking her, and it was certainly working.

Riri brought her trusty blade back up to your throat. She pressed in harder this go ‘round, threatening to drag it along your skin, and you were prepared to let her. She leaned in, her breath a warm ghost kissing you instead of her lips. “How many times do I have to tell you I really, really hate that fucking word. Stop saying it.”

“Would you prefer insane?” You clipped back, spitefully teasing as Riri quite literally held your life in her hands. You should be terrified, the bitch was deranged enough to kill you, but the feeling coursing through you was more akin to fear's distant cousin — thrill.

“I'm not crazy,” You could feel the knife's indentation, and your throat bobbed beneath it. “I'm not insane.” She was gliding the dangerous tool against your neck now, and you felt your skin tear, small streaks of warm blood rolling down your tilted neck, catching Riri's wild eyes.

“I just know what I want, and I always get it.”

You moaned, still rubbing up against her overly used clit, head spinning as you reveled in the heat of your crimson liquid staining your chest and Riri's.

Riri lowered the knife, pecking your cheek lovingly before extending her tongue to the shallow little cut she drew into your neck, running it along the length and licking the beautiful blood decorating the area. “And right now I want you to let me ride you, want you to slam into me and punish me for all the bad things I’ve done. I deserve it.”

The head of the toy was still trapped in your fist, twitching from Riri’s every word. You glided it through her crying folds, brushing her hole but not quite shoving your way inside, and she whined.

“Don't p-play. Please just f-fuck me baby.”

And that was all it took for you to slam up into her hovering hole, bullying your way inside her walls as she screamed from the intrusion. “Fuck! Just like that! Keep fucking this pussy like that! Go deep baby, make me take it!”

“This how you want it Ri? You want me to fuck this greedy pussy like this?” Your violent pumps shook her, and she slapped her open palm up against the window to keep herself upright, the knife clattering to the floor. “Use that nasty mouth and answer me when I fucking speak to you.”

But how could she?

Your hands needed something to grab onto as her addictive heat consumed every inch of your dick yet again, nearly rendering you unconscious, so naturally, they gravitated to her neck.

Your fist was strangling her throat, blocking her airflow and her ability to say words. You used her neck to pull her down onto the throbbing member ravaging her tight wetness, enjoying the melody performed by her pussy far more than any of your own.

Shit, you were going to come, and from the feel of things, you were going to unload inside her. An unfamiliar sensation began to brew inside your abdomen, a tightness you knew well, but tucked behind it was something far more rattling, and you weren't prepared for it at all.

“Ooh mami, I'm finna– I think I'm–”

She tapped your stifling fist, unable to breathe and you let her go so she could cough. “I-Inside… do it ins-side!”

And oh fuck, you felt it, the hunger that Syla had never once been able to truly feed. Riri could though, her strangling pussy walls could do that and more.

Your vision went white, and you were quite certain every star in the galaxy resided behind your welling eyelids. Ropes of your release spilled into her accepting cunt, filling her so much, everything that didn't fit leaked right back out and onto your already filthy seats.

“Fuck! Fuck! Oh fuck!”

“Tell me you love me.” She continued to bounce on the strap. You were so sensitive, you could barely take it, but you tunneled your fingertips into her ass cheeks anyway, aiding her as she rode you through your orgasm.

Riri leaned in, kissing your dry lips, “Say it. Tell me.”

“I love you…” You didn't mean it, not in the way she hoped you did. You never meant it when she made you say it, but it made her happy in the moment, and it made her flood your dick, so you always obliged.

With her pussy drowning in cum, hers and your own, she gingerly eased the strap from inside her, slithering onto the floor to wearily envelop your twitching dickhead in her swollen lips, but your ringtone stopped her.

“It's your girlfriend.” She chuckled jeeringly when she turned to read the name flashing your phone screen in the front.

“Let the bitch go to voicemail.” Your final words before you felt Riri swallow you whole, slobbering on the dildo as she permitted your second load to trickle down her throat.

•••

Serenity swaddled you while you lay there, helpless, following Riri's skillful performance with her mouth and jaw. You were still as the unbound night outside the steamy car windows, watching through drooping, fucked out eyes as Riri climbed into the driver's seat. She revved life back into the Ferrari's engine, stealing you, and driving you off to a destination unknown.

#riri williams x black!reader #riri williams x reader #riri williams fanfic #riri williams x black!fem!reader #riri williams x y/n #riri williams smut #mcu riri williams #riri williams x fem!reader #riri williams #ironheart x black!reader #ironheart x reader #ironheart #ironheart x y/n #ironheart fanfic #dominique thorne #dominique thorne fanfic #lyricswriting #my works #riri x black!reader #riri smut #Spotify #riri x reader #riri x you #riri black panther #black panther wakanda forever #bpwf #sub!riri #bottom!riri

[naomihatake]

In search of freedom (Ch. 6)

6. Where are you when I need you the most?

⠀⠀➺ fic masterlist

⠀⠀➺ Chapter 5 ; Chapter 6 ; Chapter 7

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: angst, graphic depictions of deaths and fatal wounds, vomiting, self-harm, brief suicidal mention, canon-typical violence. (proceed with caution since it's getting a tiny bit gore)

Word count: 9,1 k (I'm proud of myself tbh)

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: I'm sorry for appearing with a new chapter 9 days later and I hope the wait was worth it. I dropped more details about the Witch's past in this chapter and some interesting interactions with her other crewmates. The next week I'm free, which means there's a chance I might most two charters until next Sunday <3.

I'm always open for opinions and comments. Whatever you want to tell me, just do it, even all you feel like doing is leaving a heart in my comments or inbox. Every interaction is appreciated and thank you so much for sticking to this story till now <3

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

A warm palm touched her shoulder and squeezed reassuringly, but with no effect. The witch turned her head towards Luffy, her glassy eyes betraying her. It made their captain frown with worry. The sound of her real name slipping from between his lips stung worse than expected. 

"It'll be alright," he smiled. "Zoro is a strong swordsman."

With horror painting her features, she shook her head and placed her shaking hand over his, gripping gently. 

"You don't get it, Luffy, do you?" her voice came out like a whisper. "It's not just any dwell and that man isn't just any swordsman. I've seen plenty of people dying in front of my eyes, the crew I used to be part of, they didn't hold a chance against—"

She sank her teeth in her lower lip and looked up, blinking away the tears. Her breath was shaking and the grip on Luffy's hand got tighter. Slowly, she inhaled deeply, body trembling as her lungs swallowed the morning cold breeze. 

Both Usopp and Luffy were frowning, listening intently to her words. 

"This won't end well," she concluded. "He willingly got himself in danger. Zoro is nothing but some prey for Mihawk."

Luffy's sympathetic gaze didn't help her, it didn't ease her worries as he hoped. Her panic was fed by each single thought passing through her head, by each memory making a nest in the present. 

"I've met one single Warlord in my entire life and he destroyed half of the strongest crew I ever knew at that time. I know who they are, I know their tactics, I know they're not to play with."

Both of her hands were clasped around Luffy's shoulder, turbulent eyes meeting his. The tips of her nails dug lightly in his skin, but he didn't wince or move. 

"Yes, we are strong, but still not strong enough for them," the witch intentionally lowered her voice so it wouldn't crack into sobs. "Please tell me you know I didn't argue with him because I like to. Please tell me you get what I mean, Luffy. I'm scared."

She was barely aware of her admission, but it was hard to hold back. The witch wasn't a scaredy-cat, she didn't run away, pride filled her being all too well to ever lose a battle, be it against herself or others. That time, however, she was scared out of her mind for the swordsman. 

Luffy gave her the sweetest smile she's seen in ages and squeezed her shoulder again. "He will be alright." 

She let her head tilt forward, hands falling back to her sides. His faith was greater than her fears, but he couldn't erase the panic settling in her bones. 

"You have no clue how much I wish you were right." 

It hurt. Her chest hurt and something was crawling up her throat, differently than back in Syrup Village. It made her feel nauseous, it bubbled in her stomach and gripped at her neck, it constricted her lungs and air punctured their tissue. 

Zoro just walked out of the galley exactly when the sun could be barely seen rising up from the waters. The bandana was wrapped around his head and his earrings chimed like a melody, making her head turn towards him. 

The same horrified gaze from hours ago was stuck on him and yet he chose to ignore her, passing by without even casting a glance. 

She stood there when Usopp, Luffy and Zoro walked by, her back turned to them. The witch had to collect the pieces of her broken heart before daring to glance at a list fight on the swordsman's side. Mihawk was already waiting for them right in front of the restaurant. 

She couldn't watch another dear person die. Not again. 

Her fingers dug painfully into her palms, until her nails left crescent marks on the skin, until it hurt so badly the tears in her eyes couldn't fall. Their synchronized steps beat like drums, just like her heart. 

Everything was blurred out. She didn't dare look until she heard swords clashing. Like a snap, her head turned. 

Mihawk stopped Zoro's attack with one small knife. 

He had no chance against the warlord, just like she guessed. 

No, she thought. I can't be pessimistic now. Maybe at least he'll get out alive—

But pirates don't just let their dwell partners live, the other side of her conscience commented. 

Each one of Zoro's attacks were either stopped or dodged so easily by Mihawk, who seemed like he was playing rather than fighting. He was so light on his feet, body moving like a feather between Zoro's blades. 

The warlord sent her green-haired crewmate flying back with a mere push of his knife when he blocked yet another one of his attacks. When Zoro got back to his feet and rushed towards him, Mihawk continued dodging each one of his attacks. 

The witch could only hear a muffled conversation from a distance. She didn't even notice when Nami passed by her until she saw orange strands of hair bouncing in her vision. 

The navigator didn't come from the restaurant, as she should've since she searched for a drink — or that's what she said. She walked from the other side of the dock. Her hands trembled by her side and she walked slowly, fearfully, her body so stiff, until she stopped behind Luffy. 

The witch focused for so long on Nami, her gaze fell on Zoro only when the right side of his chest was penetrated by Mihawk's knife. 

Air got stuck in her throat and time stopped in its tracks. Her feet were stuck right where they were and she couldn't move an inch. 

Zoro, his name lingered in her thoughts, the sound of it along with the sweet chiming of his golden earrings. 

Time stretched like an elastic. Seconds passed by at an agonizingly slow pace, as if the Universe itself decided to torture her with that image. 

Swords. Corpses. Blood. Fear. 

The witch let out a shaky breath while she trembled like a leaf in the breeze. 

Zoro made a step back, the knife slipping away from his flesh. With a few other steps, he fell to his knees, with his swords digging into the wooden battens to keep himself steady. 

Mihawk curled his fingers around the hilt of the sword on his back. 

It seemed like he decided to end it all right then and there. 

The witch didn't know if it was her imagination when Zoro seemed to glance towards her for a brief moment. All she knew was that her heart sank into her stomach and she could hear the audible cracks of her soul. The green-haired man took his white sword, placing it in between his teeth. 

His gaze moved back to Mihawk so quickly she could barely register it. Her stomach turned upside down and her chest tightened when she saw Zoro rotating his other two swords faster than the brain was able to comprehend. 

Mihawk and Zoro jumped into the attack at the same time. She didn't know if their swords collided or not. 

Zoro fell to his knees again, panting. The swords in his hands crumbled into pieces all the way to the hilt, right in the middle of the runes the witch drew hours ago on the blades. His Wado Ichimoji fell from between his teeth. 

He didn't stop there. Of course that fucking idiot didn't stop. He used the white sword to get up, resting his weight into it until he finally stood straight again, turning to Mihawk. Carefully, he sheathed his Wado Ichimoji. 

With his arms held in the air and hands curled into fists, Zoro didn't let go of his word as he proudly admitted:

"Wounds on the back are a swordsman's greatest shame."

The warlord said one word the witch didn't hear and then, with a swift motion, his sword cut deeply through Zoro's chest. 

The green-haired man fell on his back, eliciting a shout of his name from Luffy. 

Zoro. 

His name was all the witch could hear while she rushed to his side, tears blurring her vision, tears she couldn't afford to show. 

Just like he did a few moments ago, the witch got to her knees, eyes focused on the t-shirt getting soaked in Zoro's blood. 

"Fucking dammit," she spoke in a hoarse voice, hands trembling. 

He was bleeding heavily, the dark blue nuance of his shirt replaced by dark crimson. The wound started from under his left clavicle and curved through his chest, all the way to the right side of his ribs. Without a second thought, the witch took off her unbuttoned shirt and folded it, just to press the material on his large wound. 

"Monkey D. Luffy," Mihawk said. "what's your goal?" 

"I'm going to become the King of the Pirates," Luffy responded through gritted teeth. 

The witch's burning gaze raised to the warlord who stood tall meters away, putting his sword back in place on his back. Her fingers ached to touch her revolvers and shoot holes through that man until she's satisfied, until the monster lurking in the depths of her soul had its blood thirst quenched. However, her hands remained pressed against her shirt, trying her best to stop Zoro's bleeding. 

She's always been revengeful when people dear to her heart were harmed. Revenge she never denied, a trait of hers she's accepted long ago. 

"That's a much more treacherous path than even defeating me. This world could use a few more wild cards."

"Go fuck yourself," the witch let out with wrath burning in her eyes. 

She clenched her jaw and her eyebrows knitted together into a deep frown. Anger filled each corner of her being, blinding her almost all the way up, filling her to the brim. 

One more drop and she would lash out. 

Zoro's safety was more important than her rage and she was completely aware of that. The wounded swordsman was the only reason why she stood still by his side. 

"It's too soon for him to die," and with that, Mihawk's gaze fell back on the green-haired man. "Roronoa Zoro, grow strong and come find me. I'll be waiting."

Fucker, the witch's thought wasn't voiced out that time while the warlord walked away. 

"Luffy," Zoro spoke in such a soft voice. 

The witch and Luffy immediately looked back at him. He was struggling to breathe properly, that mere motion probably making his entire body ache painfully. 

"If I fail to become the world's greatest swordsman," he faintly spoke, barely able to open up his eyes. After some greedy gulps of air, he continued: "you'll be disappointed. Right?" 

With a shaky breath, Luffy smiled at him as tears gathered in his eyes. 

"You could never fail me." 

The witch could feel her body shake when she realized the swordsman's life was hanging on a thread. 

"Never again. From now… until I beat him," Zoro continued talking in between panting. 

The witch wished she could tell him something, anything, but all she could do was continue pressing her shirt over his wound. Looking at him in that state made her heart squeeze in the cage made of ribs, wishing she could be in his place and take his pain away. 

With trembling hands, he somehow managed to draw his Wado Ichimoji out of its scabbard, holding it up as he looked up at the blue sky. 

"To become the greatest swordsman… I will never lose again!" he let out with a shaky breath, voice scratching at the witch's eardrums. 

One of her hands curled around his shoulder and squeezed firmly, intending to bring his attention to her only for a second. 

"I'm sorry about what I said, alright?" she gulped down hard, her voice cracking. "You need to live, yeah? I know you'll become the greatest. I'm sorry, Zoro, I'm sorry." 

She was sorry for lashing out at him. If they were to part ways in that moment, then she'd rather make sure he never believed she was mad at him, that she didn't hate him even for a second. It was a feeling her heart wasn't capable of harboring towards him — never him. She would've ripped her ribcage open and given him her heart if she could. 

The witch could only hope his tired and pained self heard her words, even as his eyes closed immediately after his arm dropped to his side along with the sword. 

"You better stay alive," she whispered while looking down at him. 

Her words became muffled from his perspective. All he heard was his name being spoken multiple times by Luffy and Usopp. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch has been sitting on the floor of her shared room with Nami for a while now, ever since the navigator started reading. Zoro laid unconsciously on her bed, bandages wrapped around his torso. For a long time, she didn't even dare look at him. 

She will be eternally grateful for Zeff's help — the chef cook of Baratie who snitched Zoro up and told them to do whatever was necessary to keep him alive, be it telling stories or singing sea shanties. 

Despite the fact that Zoro's wound wasn't bleeding anymore, her heart still screamed at her. 

With knees pulled up to her chest and her forehead resting in between them, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, subconsciously protecting herself from God-knows-what. She couldn't sleep either, despite listening to Nami's alluring voice as she read from a book. 

The bandage on her upper arm was worn out and it's been longer than a day since Zoro wrapped it. It was dirty with blood from the time when she intentionally squeezed it before sobs could leave her lips. 

Nami stopped reading, but the witch didn't register the lack of sounds surrounding her until she heard a voice. She didn't bother to raise her head, keeping her eyes closed as she responded:

"Can you say that again? Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." 

"Pull yourself together," Nami whispered. 

The witch knew that if she'd look up, she'd see a scolding or maybe a worried pair of blue eyes staring at her. 

"I will when the situation asks for it," plainly, she dismissed the navigator. "Until then, I couldn't give less of a fuck."

She was aware of her position, of how small she looked, curled like a ball against the wall, hugging herself and praying to every God she knew that the swordsman would wake up. It was pathetic, but there was no wiser way to hide her overwhelming pain. Wrapping around herself sounded like the most helpful option. 

"There are a few things you two should talk about when he wakes up," Nami closed the book with a small thud. 

"I'd tell anyone anything if I knew he'd wake up," this time, her voice trembled lightly. 

The witch swallowed the lump in her throat that's been sitting there uncomfortably for hours, with no positive effect. The only way to even her breathing was by holding the air in her lungs for a few seconds and letting it all go with a long exhale. 

"Nami."

Only then, the witch raised her head. She looked deplorable, with disheveled hair and sunken eyes, dark circles under them from the lack of sleep. Her chapped lips were red because she ripped the skin off with her nails again. There was no sign of life on her face. 

Obviously, she's had better days. Everyone did, probably. 

"Maybe it's because I'm sorrow-drunk and can't bring myself to hide it anymore, but I have to tell you something."

She's been debating on whether or not she shall tell Nami about her suspicions ever since she pulled out those two cards out of the tarot deck. 

"I know you're hiding something, but you can't hide it from me."

The truth has been spoken. With her heart beating loudly in her eardrums and threatening to break her ribs, she continued. 

"I know. You're planning betrayal."

The navigator's eyes widened as panic flooded in her soul. The orange haired woman had no clue where all this came from, didn't know how fuck she found out about that, when and why—

"I didn't tell anyone."

"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?" came out Nami's sharp response. 

"I never expected you to admit it, if I am to be honest."

The witch rubbed her palms over her face and sighed heavily, as if a weight was pressed on top of her body. 

"I also know there's more to the story. I don't know what or who you're protecting yourself from, I have no clue exactly why you're doing all this, but there's one thing I know for sure: the world is sitting on your shoulders, yet you refuse letting us help you carry it."

Nami stiffened in her chair. Her back straightened and her empty gaze pushed the witch out of her thoughts. 

"Are you jumping to conclusions because of some stupid cards?"

"They definitely know more than me."

"Did you read you should treat your paranoia in there too?"

"While I admit there are times when I have crippling anxiety," the witch calmly stated, "I'm one hundred percent sure this isn't just a fairy tale. It's your choice to tell me or continue to keep it for yourself."

"But?" her voice lowered dangerously close to snapping. 

"But we're not your enemies, Nami, and you know that well."

Not an answer the navigator expected, definitely. 

"Zoro is unconscious on the bed and you're talking in metaphors — have you all gotten insane on this ship?" 

"If I did, it was long before stepping on The Going Merry," the witch let out a stiffled laugh. 

She dropped her forehead on her knees again, squeezing herself tighter in the embrace. The witch wasn't any less panicked than Nami, since opening up such a discussion scared her deeply. It was better than hiding and lying, though, and it felt less guilty. 

"Why did you tell me this?" Nami asked with a whisper. "Be it right or wrong, why would you?" 

"You don't deserve to be lied to, Nami. It makes me feel bad — hiding this from you made me feel like garbage from the start."

Even then, a gram of her guilt vanished. 

"You're weirdly honest. You're aware this will haunt you one day, aren't you?" 

"It's been haunting me since I got born," a sour smile painted the witch's face. 

"The devil must've put some kind of curse on you." 

"I only believe in evil spirits, sorry."

She didn't know where that soft laugh came from. Maybe it was her way of copying with the anxiety, with the pain. All she knew was that she hoped Nami wouldn't hide from them forever. 

"Is there anything else you want to accuse me of?"

Faster than Usopp's snapping, Nami was once again serious, and the witch didn't have to look at her to figure it out. 

"I never accused you. I know I'm right, but I'm not aware of the entire truth. You, on the other side, are aware of your own reality and I believe in your judgment. I hope you'll make the wisest decision and I'm saying this from the bottom of my heart." 

"That's rich coming from someone so suspicious."

She's always been that way, the witch had to admit it. It wasn't only anxiety or tarot readings, there were times when she was straight up acting and thinking like a paranoid and it was cutting years off her life. Worrying and thinking over and over again, being hyper aware of everyone's actions, including her own. 

Nami resumed her reading, her voice strained this time, as if she forced herself to talk out loud. Each syllable sounded rougher than the other, but that didn't stop the navigator from telling that story. 

The witch wasn't paying attention, instead focusing on the moments spent with all of them, just like last night, when they were all eating and teasing each other. She needed to talk to Zoro, to tell him again that she's sorry. 

Maybe he didn't hear me clearly before he fell unconscious, she wondered. She moved one of her arms and curled her fingers around the wound on her bicep. It stung good. If it could stop the stream of tears threatening to fall, then it was good, no matter how much it hurt, how the pain sunk deep into her bones, making her flinch. 

There was something she wanted to clear out with Nami, but before the witch could speak, approaching steps made her mouth close shut. The presence felt light once her senses registered it, like a sparkling piece of hope — Luffy. She remained like a statue, breathing so slowly it was barely obvious she was still alive. 

"Why did the king have to kill him?" he asked innocently. 

He was referring to Nami's telling. 

Without even having to glance up at him, the witch knew he was feeling unwell. There was no light in his voice and he sounded unsure of himself, so disoriented. 

"Sometimes, when you are in charge, you have to make the tough decisions," she muttered between gritted teeth. 

The witch knew where this conversation was heading. 

"Why does everybody keep saying that?" 

Luffy's voice desperately tried to reach out to the orange-haired woman.

Judging from the creaking of the chair, Nami got up from her seat as she spoke:

"Because you could've saved Zoro. He didn't have to fight Mihawk, but you let it happen. "

A few seconds of silence filled the room with thick tension. 

"Look at her," Nami pointed with her chin towards the witch. "It looks like if he goes, she goes too. If one of us crumbles, everyone does. Look at us, at how we're handling it, at how Zoro does or, better said, how he doesn't handle it."

The witch couldn't understand why she was suddenly part of their conversation or why Nami took her side and tried to protect her from some unknown entity.  Probably, she really looked worse than she thought. A sense of relief patched up one of the countless wounds under her skin when she figured out the navigator said all those things because she cared.

At the very same time, she knew Nami's words must've made Luffy suffer greatly, pushing her to raise her head and give her friends her entire attention.

"Nami," the witch intervened gently. 

"You're in no place to talk," she cut her off quickly, her eyes like turbulent seas. "We're all a mess and it's all because of his stupid decision. But he could've been stopped," Nami turned her head to Luffy again. 

"Nami, stop it," the witch furrowed her eyebrows. "Fighting will do no good. We've argued enough last night, there's no need for that anymore."

Nami was panicked and stressed out of her mind as well. Everything gave her away: the trembling hands, the shaking voice, tone close to breaking in a million pieces with each word, even the tears that gathered in her eyes. However, no drop rolled down her cheek. 

"Tell me, Luffy," Nami vehemently continued with a tensed expression. "Would you see him like this? He might die."

Stop saying that, please, the witch thought as she took in another breath. He knows. Everyone knows. Please, stop saying he'll die because I might believe it too. I want to believe in him, not in whatever life changing lesson the universe gave me. 

"And I'd do anything to save him," Luffy whispered with a tender smile on his face. 

Me too. I'd rip my heart out of my chest and give it to him. I'd rip off my flesh and put it on his wounds. I'd die if I knew my life would be given to him. 

"Anything," Luffy continued. "Except stand in the way of his dream." 

God fucking dammit. 

"We all have dreams, but we outgrow them," Nami clenched her teeth after she spoke. 

"Is that really what you think?" Luffy's smile held so much hope. "Don't you have a dream?" 

"Yeah. Right now, is for Zoro to not die in my bed," the navigator let out in a strangled voice. 

"Isn't there something that you want? Something more," the straw hat whispered. "More than anything else in this world."

When the witch looked at Nami, it was obvious she was on the verge of tearing up, her nostrils flaring. Her eyes were already bloodshot. 

"Not everyone gets to follow their dreams."

Nami didn't wait for any of them to respond before she walked out of the room. The witch got to her feet and tried to catch the navigator's hand in hers, but she wasn't fast enough. All she could do was glance at Luffy and place both of her palms on his shoulders, just like he did at the crack of dawn. 

He looked at the witch with a hopeful and equally worried gaze. 

"I know you meant the best when you encouraged him to follow his dream, Luffy," the witch squeezed his shoulders. "It's alright. Nami knows that as well. She's worried, like all of us. We all said hurtful things to each other lately."

His lips trembled when he attempted to say something, but he didn't dare to anymore. Instead, he searched for reassurance. 

Was he in the wrong? Did Zoro get hurt because of him?

"It's not your fault," the witch continued with a tiny smile on her face. "I promise you. Everything led up to this. It couldn't have been avoided, unfortunately. No one could've stopped Zoro — you know he's a stubborn asshole."

Luffy scoffed. 

"You know I'm right."

"I do," the straw hat nodded shily. "I think…" he gulped down, looking at his feet. "Maybe I can clean his sword for when he'll wake up."

"I'm sure he would be grateful about it. I'll stay here a bit longer."

She didn't let go of Luffy's shoulders until he moved away. Just to ease her concern, he smiled faintly at her before leaving the room. 

Looking down at the unconscious pirate hunter, the witch couldn't believe her eyes. She gulped, not even daring to grasp at his hand, scared he'd break even because of a feather-like touch. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds, opening them again only to see the same man in the exact same position. 

She was scared for him, for his life. She didn't want to be a nuisance and stop him from doing what he believed would bring him happiness. Or maybe that word was too much — but winning against Dracule Mihawk would've made him proud, it would've fulfilled a promise he made to someone long ago. She didn't know who was at the other end of the promise, but he seemed to be a man of his word, so trying to stop him turned her into a selfish person. 

Her eyes were locked on his face, brushing with the back of her hand some small droplets of sweat on his forehead. She was worried out of her mind, now regretting she didn't do more to stop him, to make him change his mind when he was maybe too drunk to think twice. 

"Be careful, Zoro," the witch told him back then, her gaze betraying the worry crippling through her entire being. 

She was right. He should've been more careful. He should've been less reckless, should've listened to Nami and her, even if Luffy encouraged him to chase his dream. Was it really worth it? 

Once again, she sighed. She was selfish, greedy, it was wrong to think that his dream wasn't worth the entire world. Heck, even she would do anything for him, just to see him open his eyes again, just to hear another bored or witty remark coming from between his lips.

Instead, he was silent and still, only the slow movement of his chest visible as he breathed. It was the only thing that managed to bring her an ounce of comfort.

At least he was alive, she continued telling herself. 

It was clawing at her heart, messing with it, her thoughts roaming around, jumping one on top of another. She was overthinking again, the worst habit she could've had — or that's what she silently believed for years. 

The witch should've fought with him to death back then, when he was stubborn enough to throw Nami's words at her while they argued. Maybe it would've made him change his mind. As she continued looking at him, she worthlessly tried to take some of the blame for what happened. 

Hidden under his bandages, the same wound made the woman standing by his side believe she saw the Death Reaper, even if he was the one unconscious on a bed. 

Carefully, she sat down next to him, without taking her eyes off of him even for a moment. 

"You're kind of worrying us all, y'know? Luffy is in denial of your possible death and Nami seems restless. Usopp is too silent for his usual self," she whispered. 

Her first instinct was to touch him, but her fingertips hovered above his hand. She didn't know if it would've been right to seek the warmth of his skin while he wasn't even awake. All the witch could do was hope that deep down in his soul, he felt and heard all of them. 

"I'm worried too. No. Worried is an understatement. I'm terrified," the words trembled as they left her lips, the same chopped lips she sank her teeth into. "I'd rather have you call me an idiot," she chuckled sourly. 

With slow and careful gestures, she gathered enough courage to caress his hand with her fingers, feeling small cuts here and there. He was still warm, which eased a few of her worries. 

She made a long pause, staring at the seemingly lifeless man she would give her life for.  

"Remember when we drank together on the deck, two nights ago?" 

A fragile smile appeared on her face at the reminder of that night. She stole the last drop of his bottle before he could finish it with a grin, playfully nudging at his ribs. He failed to threaten her about how she owes him something for that. He was handling his liquor better than her and yet, he couldn't hide his smirk or the sparkle in his eyes. 

That night, bottles later, the witch got dizzy and tipsy. At first, she almost fell into a sea of melancholy after she shared pieces of her with Zoro. She doesn't remember how, but he got her laughing way too easy with his remarks and some silly stories. 

"You're flushed already," he pointed out back then. 

"You're kinda rosy in the cheeks as well, swordsman." 

At that time she damned the alcohol for the soft gaze she had when she looked at him. Her eyes were sparkling with adoration when they danced on his face, peace sinking in her very bones in his presence. She shouldn't have drank. It was so obvious that she had a soft spot for him, that he had a special place in her heart not even a month after they met. 

And who was at fault for her drunken state that night? Roronoa Zoro, obviously. He was at fault when she giggled and talked too much about too many things at once, so much more passion in her words than usual — was that even possible? he thought to himself. She always had a light and warm way of talking, her voice many times giving away her feelings. 

A promise was a promise, even if she didn't wholeheartedly accept it from the beginning. She surrendered quickly and told him that yes, she owes him something, maybe a secret. 

The witch remembered everything the next day, but acted like her memory had faded. The realization hit her hard the next morning, when she figured out her irrational fear of sharing secrets. She shouldn't have made that promise, so she played dumb, as if the conversation they had was forgotten about. 

"Maybe it's not exactly a secret, but I like it when you call me by my name."

Maybe he hears me. 

"I didn't hear my name being spoken for a long time. It makes me emotional every time, with no exception."

You're a crybaby, he should've said. 

Her hand fully settled on top of his while the witch continued to slowly rub her fingertips into his skin, trying to bring herself back to earth even if her thoughts were sailing through unfortunate memories. 

"I wasn't called by my name for years after my father became a pirate," she continued the story that started during their drinking night. "He aimed to become an Admiral and he was part of the Navy Forces for half of his life. For a long time, he thought he could do better than his comrades and hoped he could change the corruption that took place in the Government and the Marines. Insane, right?" she let out a sour chuckle. "An Admiral becoming a pirate. Everyone called him insane."

Once again, she smiled at the faint memories of her father's warm smile. There were details she didn't mention that night on the deck, like the status of her father in the Navy. 

"I didn't reach ten yet when he left. He considered it would've been dangerous to stay with us and, if I am to be honest, mom would've kicked him out of their home."

Their home, because that place was never her home. 

"Calling me by my name would've meant he still has ties with me and someone might've taken advantage of that."

Nine years ago, the witch was a child who only learnt how to use a kitchen knife for cutting vegetables. That child has been stripped of her innocence a few years later. 

"A few times a year he would visit me. He would hide from the Marines, while I would hide from my mom. I still remember how he was so much happier. He looked younger, like he was living his teenage years and not his thirties. Except for a few days I'd stay with him and his crew, he was roaming around the seas. He never judged a single soul, believing it wasn't his job to do so, even if he would protect anyone who needed help. He changed the meaning of a pirate in a good way."

She turned her head towards the window, watching the blue sky mingling with the sea and the port of Baratie where people were walking on the wooden battens. 

"He was caught by the Marines while he visited me and killed in the center of the city," her voice lowered to a gentle whisper, just like the breeze coming from the open window and giving her goosebumps. 

She remembers that moment all too clearly, eyebrows knitting together as she squeezed Zoro's hand lightly, hoping it would bring some comfort to her shattered heart. 

A life that felt like an eternity already made her believe her name was like damnation for anyone who said it. A few syllables being spoken and you'd be cursed to die one way or another, since her mother refused to call by the name her father chose when she saw light for the first time. Her father and his crew were the only ones calling her name so dearly, with honey latched onto their voices, treating her like a daughter. 

She was someone's daughter when she was with them. And now, by Luffy's side, she was someone's friend. 

"I don't want to watch you die too," only then she looked at him again. "Don't die on me. Don't leave us alone."

There was determination in her tone, mingling with pain and sorrow. Half of her believed in him the same way she believed the sea was blue and that leaves were green. The other half drowned in anguish. 

Zoro seemed almost serene, despite the small frown that never left his face. She took in a deep breath and moved her hand away from his, only to lean over and rest her elbows on her knees. 

She needed some fresh air. 

The witch got up and left the room in a hurry, before tears would've slipped down her cheeks. She pushed it all aside, holding it in, since there was no time to weep at anyone's grave. Zoro was still breathing, even if half dead. 

He will get better. He had to. 

She walked into the galley. Standing up in front of the table was Sanji, wearing only his white and blue checkered shirt, the black jacket suit abandoned on the armrest of the couch. He was cutting some vegetables, skillfully holding the knife. 

On the cushions sat Luffy, cleaning Zoro's white sword, just like he said. Meanwhile, Usopp was the one to notice her first, leaning with his hands prompted onto the wooden table. Nami couldn't be spotted anywhere. 

The sound of her own name almost made her flinch. The witch blinked quickly, looking at Usopp. Both Sanji and Luffy looked at her then. The latter had some deep puppy eyes — her heart aches at that look alone. 

"How is he?" 

"Unconscious," she breathed out softly.

She let out a sigh and ran her fingers through her hair, her eyebrows pulled together. 

"I suppose you haven't eaten anything since yesterday," Sanji smiled gently. "Anything I could make for you?" 

"I appreciate it, really, but I don't have an appetite," she dismissed him with a faint smile of her own. 

"You could use some energy, you know," Usopp mumbled. 

"You, Luffy? What would you like to eat?" Sanji got back to chopping the vegetables. 

"I'm not hungry right now. You could make something for Zoro. He'll surely be hungry when he wakes up!" 

Their captain still had hope bubbling in his chest and it was the only thing keeping them all afloat. 

However, the witch couldn't bear to think about it anymore. She spotted her shirt hanging on a nail in the wall, close to the couch. With a quick gesture, she grabbed at it, intending to put it on herself until the heavy scent of blood filled her senses the second time that day—

The shirt was soaked in Zoro's blood from the time when she used it to stop the bleeding of his wound. Nausea crawled up her throat and she unintentionally dropped the piece of cloth when she became aware of the sickness settling deeply in the pitch of her stomach. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

With a hand covering her mouth, she rushed out of the galley, on the deck, the doors shutting harshly behind her. She leaned over the railing as the acidic taste made its way up her throat and on her tongue. 

A disgusting sensation, truly. 

She's seen blood before, she saw countless corpses laying at her feet, but nothing could compare with the vision of a dear person giving their last breath. She couldn't believe she vomited because of blood, such a normal occurrence in her life.

But it wasn't just any kind of blood — it was Zoro's and it sunk into the material of her own shirt. 

She will have to throw it away. There's no way in hell she would manage to ever wear that again, even if it would be clean and smelling like lavender.

Tears clung to her eyelashes when she opened her eyes again, looking down into the sea. She was breathing heavily and she regretted swallowing her own saliva, as the awful taste lingered in her mouth unpleasantly. 

Warm fingers touched her shoulder and before she saw whose hand it was, there was a glass of water being shoved towards her. When she glanced up, she saw the blonde waiter. 

"Thank you, Sanji," she took the glass from his hand, sipping slowly as the gentle weight on her shoulder disappeared. 

"If I knew such a beautiful lady was waiting for me to wake up, I would've opened my eyes much sooner."

The waiter — who could apparently also cook like a professional — said that in a somewhat flirtatious tone. Also, there was compassion lingering in his honeyed voice. 

"If Zoro would hear you, he would've thrown you overboard."

Nami. 

The witch didn't even notice her on the deck until that moment, her head snapping towards the navigator, her eyes sparkling with hope as she gripped at the glass in between her fingers. Nami was a few meters away from her, with her back facing the sea and her hands curled around the railing. 

The witch has seen Nami's expression countless times when she looked in the mirror after a crying fit. The same bloodshot eyes and puffy eyes, the red tip of her nose and the husky voice. 

"I don't remember you having sea sickness," Nami pried into her soul. 

The witch looked towards the water at the bottom of her glass, ashamed of her own reaction. 

"Because I don't have sea sickness," the witch whispered weakly, basically admitting her vulnerable state. 

She was more than just thankful Sanji chose not to elaborate on the reason behind her reaction. There was still acid sitting on her tongue, even after she gulped down the last droplets of water from her glass. 

"Where are you heading to?" 

The witch noticed when Nami straightened her back and walked away, towards the dock. 

"Maybe I can find another drink at the restaurant," Nami waved the back of her hand at the witch. 

That sounded very familiar to a lie for some reason, but was it the witch's place to comment? 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

Familiar fear made its way through her body, scratching underneath the skin, whispering in her ear like a mantra the same phrase her mother has always told her: "there's nothing you can do about it, so accept it." 

Those words always unsettled the young witch deeply. She heard that voice everytime she hid in a room with the books her grandmother left behind, pages filled with tarot and palmistry, the promise of real magic, different from the fairy tales. It sounded and felt palpable, her eyes sparkling. Those books were her treasure, a future filled with freedom. 

The same words were being shouted in her ears by the ghosts when her body stiffened in its spot. She wanted to scream while the man who was her father was dragged away by Marines, this time on the port of Baratie, not in her hometown. 

The deafening yell she wanted to let out was silent. Her lips didn't even part and her awareness slipped away as she continued to see blood pooling at her father's feet, his signature royal blue coat painted in crimson. As if her vocal chords broke before she opened her mouth, no sound left her lips. 

"He deserved it," sounded so clear in her ear, as if her mother stood right beside her, watching the same scene unfolding over and over again.

No, no, I can't let him die! I need to do something! Please, dad, you can't—

The man who stood proudly was dying, his body decomposing right before her eyes. A sickening view, as the skin melted off the meat, leaving only bones and tendons behind, covered by heavy clothes, two empty holes in his cranium instead of beautiful sparkling eyes. Blood dried on the white bones and sunk into the material of his coat and it flowed towards her, to the tips of her boots—

"Luffy! Arlong is here and he's after you, we have to leave now!" 

The witch gasped loudly, her eyes snapping open. Nami, who just entered, was panting heavily, fingers gripping at the edge of the doorframe. 

Who's Arlong? 

She noticed Luffy who just got up from the chair he was sitting on, right by Zoro's side. Usopp had his fingers curled around one of the ropes holding the bed in the room hanging in the air. 

There were no dead corpses around. Gosh, that nightmare was scary as hell. Her heart still drummed in her eardrums, blood rushing through her veins at an alarming pace. 

She managed to get on her feet, her palm glued to the wall to support herself. 

"Where do you think you're going, Luffy?"

Nami was panicked. Her fear grew steadily, just like fire, and she was on the edge of cussing out that entire bunch of confident idiots. 

"We can't let Arlong hurt people just because of us. He might kill everyone if we don't step in."

Luffy was rarely so serious, but the situation asked for it. However, the navigator was anything but happy with his suicidal decision. 

The witch turned her head towards the unconscious swordsman. She took in a deep breath, calming the waters threatening to destroy her mind. Then, her warm gaze raised back to the navigator who squeezed the map in between her trembling fingers. 

"You'll stay here and protect the ship, Nami," Luffy smiled reassuringly. "I trust you."

The orange haired woman searched for a different reaction from the witch, but received the same determination. 

"Have you all grown insane?" she whispered in horror. 

The witch made slow steps towards her and engulfed her in a warm hug, wrapping her arms around the navigator's body. She squeezed her gently, resting her chin on Nami's shoulder. 

"Something is troubling you greatly. Don't lie to me," the witch whispered in her ear softly. "You've got something in your head and you're pushing all of us away. We trust you, even if it'll bring us our death."

That's what scared Nami the most. 

The witch parted just to look into Nami's troubled blue eyes. 

"We'll be alright. We have to be. We'll figure it out together."

She had no clue how much Nami wanted to believe her, but it was impossible to do so. The navigator knew better what danger awaits them in Baratie now that Arlong appeared, that monster—. 

Right. That's what pirates were: monsters. So why did the ones in front of her look like friends instead of demons stealing her life away? 

The witch squeezed her shoulders and smiled so warmly, so calmly, different from the agitation they would face. 

For one second only, Nami dared to believe. Then, it crumbled to her feet when Luffy and the witch left her room with one glance back at Zoro. 

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

The witch found herself in the restaurant once again. Her fingers gripped tightly at the gun she held, finding comfort in the familiar weight settled in her hand. On purpose, she stood behind the other three men, sharp eyes scanning her surroundings carefully. They were lucky they chose to enter from the first floor, since she could easily hide. 

She wasn't hiding for the reasons some would think of. The witch intentionally stood on the side, analyzing the situation. First of all, she had to find the smallest opportunity to find a weak spot for that fishman. From her spot, still glued to the wall and hidden from everyone's eyes, she focuses on Luffy's conversation with Arlong. 

"I expected someone… bigger," Arlong commented with a wide grin, sharp teeth on full display. 

He could definitely be classified as scary, but the witch didn't want to admit that to herself. Was he dangerous? Of course. 

"Me too," Luffy commented. 

Alright, maybe Luffy had far more confidence than she thought, since he dared to make fun of that fishman, angering him. It wasn't enough that Luffy was hunted down by Arlong, he had to make him angry as well—

What was she scared of? 

She took in a deep breath and a few seconds were enough for her heartbeat to beat at a normal pace. The witch didn't have enough time to worry about consequences, she had to find their weakness quickly and act on it. 

While her focus slipped from them, Luffy was already walking down one of the two pairs of stairs meeting up at the first floor of the restaurant. Arlong threatened the straw hat about something and the first thing she heard was the deafening sound of a shotgun. 

The same sound was followed by a soft chiming filling the silence. 

Her chest tightened since no groan of pain could be heard from anyone. When she glanced at the people downstairs, she saw Zeff — the cook who stitched Zoro up — with a gun pointed at Arlong. However, the fishman only turned his head back and cocked an eyebrow at the cook. 

The bullet was most probably what caused that chiming sound. It seemed like fishmen's scales were bulletproof. 

Fucking great. Her long range fighting style wasn't to her advantage. 

An ounce of fear uncomfortably gnawed at her courage. The witch hated that helpless sensation, as if there was no escape, as if that was her dead end. 

Her fingers gripped tighter around her gun, until the skin turned yellow. 

I can't chicken out now. I don't have the luxury of turning my back against a fight in such a critical situation. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat after she bit so hard onto her lower lip she tasted copper on her tongue. 

Everyone has a weakness, right? Fishmen must have one as well. 

On the floor below, Luffy threw his stretchy arms at Arlong, with his hands curled into fists. Zeff was harshly thrown into a table that broke down, making Sanji jump into action as well. Usopp was the only one that remained upstairs, uselessly hiding behind the decorative wrought iron railing — he could be easily seen. 

Crouching down to Usopp's level, the witch slowly walked towards him with the gun still in her hand. When his eyes fell on her, he blinked like a confused owl. 

"Guns don't work!" he whisper-shouted at her, horror painting his features. 

With a sigh, she grinned cheekily. 

"Are you running, scaredy-cat?" she taunted him with an arched eyebrow. 

"Are you insane?" he frowned when she was a few inches away from him. "You can't seriously believe your gun is gonna do any damage to those monsters." 

Glancing down between the iron bars of the railing, the witch spotted other two fishmen getting up from their table. So there were three in total. 

With an unusually serious tone, she stared into Usopp's eyes, determination oozing out of her. 

"You can't run now, Usopp. I hope you're aware of that."

"Even you hesitated for a second!" 

His nervous demeanor and his over-thinking habits got the best of him at that moment. He was equally scared and amazed by the witch's courage. 

"That was before I realized there's no going back. Usopp," she lowered her tone, fingers gripping at his shirt to bring him down from the clouds. "If you choose to run away, you will never become a brave warrior of the seas. Do you hear yourself? We're not running anywhere. We have to fight if we don't want to leave Luffy and Sanji to deal with the fishmen on their own." 

She wasn't exactly good at motivational speeches, but that seemed to shake his soul well enough. 

"Now help me find out their soft spots so we can bring those idiots down before they destroy this entire restaurant and eat us alive." 

Bullets couldn't penetrate their scales. She didn't know if blades could work any better either. Also, Arlong alone had the highest bounty in the East Blue, not his friends. He was most probably much stronger than them. 

If she could bring down at least one of the other two fishman, it was also a win. 

Then, an idea popped into her head. 

Their eyes. 

They didn't have anything protecting their eyes except for the fact that they were sunk into their faces. With her aim, she had a chance to shoot one of them. She had to take advantage of the fact that no one knew she was there and making a plan. 

Taking in a deep breath, the witch placed the gun between the iron bars and aimed at the fishman with ridiculously big lips. She wasn't exactly that far away, but she had to concentrate. One single miss and everything would go down, since her presence would be obvious and her hand to hand fighting skills weren't that well developed against raw strength. 

She waited patiently, Usopp still by her side. Once the fishman stood still, turned towards her, she pulled the trigger of her gun. 

The bullet struck his eye and he groaned in pain, receiving a proud smile from the witch who quickly hid behind a table from upstairs, dragging Usopp with her. Her heartbeat was so fast in her ears it could leave her deaf. 

She had to pull herself together. 

"You've got good aim," Usopp's voice trembled. 

"Thanks," she breathed out heavily, eyes closing for a second. 

There was an entire tornado in her soul. The witch knew there was no place for running away, but she was equally aware of her disadvantage against fishmen who fight with their fists. 

Zoro would've loved the thrill of this fight. 

But he wasn't there to joke about her being a scared little lady. 

And Nami wasn't there to yell into her face and tell her to wake the fuck up and help her find a better plan. 

Before she had a chance to notice, Usopp was crawling down the stairs on the left once an idea popped into his head, or that was what the witch thought. 

She felt a certain presence walking up the stairs on her right and her eyes widened. The other fishman spotted her.

"Here you were, wench," he spoke with a growl. 

She didn't have enough time to scramble to her feet before a rough hand wrapped around her neck and lifted her up in the air, pushing her against the wall. She could barely even groan when her breathing was restricted by the awfully strong grip the fishman had on her throat. 

Her gun fell from her hand and hit the floor with a weak sound. 

Uselessly, her fingers grabbed at the muscled blue arm holding her up, feet a few inches away from the floor. Compared to him, her grip was weak, insignificant. 

The witch was never the type to necessarily wish to live, but she certainly didn't want to die in that moment, when others' lives were hanging on a thread. 

Also, she didn't want that ugly fucking fishman with big lips to be the last sight before she closed her eyes forever. 

Dammit. 

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58 @katiemrty @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @freyademartel @boofy1998 @ponyboys-sunsets @melsunshine @loveyluv7 @waddlingwanderer @jesssssmaybankk @nadlx33333 @yoong1c0re @untoldshortsofthefandoms @mizzy-pop

#in search of freedom #naomiwrites #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #opla zoro x reader #opla zoro x you #opla zoro x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece live action x reader #opla x reader #one piece #op #zoro #roronoa zoro #opla zoro #one piece live action fanfiction #zoro imagines #zoro roronoa #op zoro #opla fanfiction #opla

[sweetkpopmusings]

woozi boyfriend headcanons <3

a/n: posting jihoon's boyfriend headcanons next as requested!! i am SO endeared by him <333 i'd trust him with my life tbh and i just know i'd feel safe if i had him around like he's a top-tier protector while also being a silly billy :,-) pics not mine !

content: fluff | wc: 1.3k | warnings: none! | pairing: boyfriend!jihoon x gn!reader | requests: open

after writing this, i want nothing more than to see jihoon smile and give me an endearing head pat :,-( please enjoy <333

our music boy!!! hard-working king!!!! talented icon!!!!

he's so cool in every way except for when it comes to you

he just melts at the sight of you

like he's cool on the outside but anyone who knows him knows that he's losing it over how much he loves you

tbh even people who don't know him all that well can see very recognizable heart eyes

he just looks at you with so much adoration and fondness and it SHOWS <333

sometimes when you're speaking to him, especially about things you're passionate about, there will be pauses before he responds

it's not because he isn't listening. it's the complete opposite !!

he's so immersed in your thoughts, your voice, your movements, your words, that he has to find his way back to earth before he can speak

and honestly, if it weren't for the fact that it proves to you he is listening and encourages you to continue speaking, he'd stay completely silent during times like these

he's in awe of you and he wants to stay that way forever

jihoon gets flustered by you constantly

the butterflies he felt when he first saw you never go away

they actually get stronger over time because the more he realizes he loves you the more those butterflies of elation swarm inside him

this is one of the many inspirations he finds in you for music

he actually writes lots of songs about you but he is so nervous to tell you about it each time so he doesn't tell you beforehand he just plays the song for you when he thinks it's ready

while he doesn't directly say it's about you, you know it is about you because he slipped a phrase you two always say to each other in there or he references a favorite song/idea/sound/item of yours in the verse

in response, you give him a lil squeeze on his hand or a kiss on the cheek or a smile that shows him with certainty you love and cherish how he incorporated you into his work again

it all goes unsaid, be he can feel through these exchanges that you feel the depth of his love

his heart is FULL!!!!

he is blushing, but he fights with all his might to act like he isn't blushing

jihoon actually blushes any time you compliment him because he is so soft for you :,-)

he will also completely short circuit if he hears you singing or humming a song he made

it catches him off-guard and he's standing there like :-0

he's so precious <33333

jihoon's also the silliest boy with you

he laughs SO hard whenever you make a joke

like i'm talking open mouth, loud, PUAHAHAH energy

he cannot contain it he thinks you're so funny and delightful

loves teasing you so much. he knows it'll get a laugh out of you, which is one of his favorite sounds in the universe, and he just loves being playful with you even if it means roasting you

jihoon will also do slapstick, dad jokes, or other ridiculous humor antics to make you laugh

he's actually so funny like !!! you're never going to feel bored again you've got a true entertainer with you 25/8

the entertainment carries over to when he tells stories about you

they're so animated and his descriptions of you are so vivid that seventeen actually feel as though they know you before they meet you

a few members comment "wow, he got your voice exactly how it sounds!" and "he wasn't kidding. you do get that look in your eyes when you tell a joke!" and so on

i'm putting my money on soonyoung, seungkwan, and chan to expose him like this

you're shocked because ??? how often did he talk about you ???

when you turn to look at jihoon he's a blushing mess and waving his hand in the air and chuckling to act as though it isn't a big deal

when you turn away he is giving Death Glares to everyone else but they're just laughing because they've never seen him more enamored before and it's the perfect fuel for teasing him <3

his hugs engulf you

even the slightest of hugs leave you feeling completely wrapped up in his embrace. he holds you with so much care and attention that even a light brush of his hand on your shoulder makes you feel so wonderfully warm

when he's sleepy he is definitely nuzzling his head into your shoulder/neck/etc like he wants the world to disappear and you are his escape !!! his comfort !!! i'm sobbing now

he's often softly tapping your shoulder to get your attention without disrupting whatever you're watching/reading/etc because he wants your attention but would never take it without you being willing to give it

stop why is he so cute and gentle :-(

whenever you two are sitting, lying, or standing near each other, he'll mindlessly drum his fingers against you like he's playing the piano

woozi will always sing you to sleep if you ask

like yes he'll resist at first because he's a lil shy but he's not going to say "no" when he knows how much it'll comfort you

he thinks there are few things better than the sound of your contented sighs as you drift into sleep and the look on your face when you finally fall into a deep slumber

while he sings to you, he will play with your hair, give you sweet little pets, and soothingly rub your arms/back <3

he will never let you down

whether it's picking up every item on your grocery list

or being by your side during a hard time

he. is. there.

nothing would break his heart more than you feeling alone or unsupported

you always make him feel grounded, and he constantly works to reciprocate that for you

he is genuinely such a solid partner. he's your rock in the truest sense of the word, and the trust between you two is otherworldly

while there are always butterflies and new experiences shared between you, there has, from day one, been a sense of sureness there too

your relationship feels so real and so right

woozi's love is strong. through the ups and downs, his love for you never wavers, and he never lets you doubt his sincerity towards you

tbh i think he really desires security with you

one of the first times he's very vulnerable with you, probably late at night while in the studio because there's a specific intimacy you find together in that space, he admits to you that he really wants someone you to feel sure of him

you were sure of him before then, but, in that moment when he completely opened up, you knew, more than anything, you were sure of him

and all it took was the grasp of your hand, the look in your eyes, and the words i'm sure of you, jihoon for him to know that you felt everything toward him that he felt about you

from then on, so much of your relationship goes unsaid

because you two feel it and know it so deeply that it doesn't need to be expressed

however, jihoon never misses an opportunity to express his love and appreciation for you

he's very much the type to be lovey dovey when he's feeling soft

like this boy could give you a toothache with his sweetness

and he's smiling that angelic smile the whole time i'm biting my fist pLEASE

if you ask him to do aegyo, he'll do it in a heartbeat

you show this off in front of seventeen and they're DYING and they expect woozi to say something but he's not fazed like obviously he's doing aegyo ?? what else is he supposed to do when the love of his life asks him to act cute ??

the answer is do aegyo, obviously.

jihoon is simply the most romantic and sincere partner you could ask for. he's dedicated to you, heart and soul, and he proves that every day by being there for you

sorry i have to go and read some poetry because loving and being loved by jihoon would simply be the most beautiful thing in the world

i hope everyone gets the jihoon they deserve <3

#seventeen #seventeen headcanons #boyfriend!seventeen #seventeen imagines #svt #woozi #jihoon #seventeen woozi #seventeen jihoon #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #jihoon x reader #woozi fluff #jihoon fluff #boyfriend woozi #boyfriend jihoon #boyfriend!woozi #boyfriend!jihoon #svt woozi #svt jihoon #svt headcanons #woozi headcanons #jihoon headcanons #seventeen au #svt au #lee jihoon #sweetkpopmusings

[sirenlulls]

satellite → r. keating (b. skeetz)

pairings — robert keating x fem!reader

summary — what bobby skeetz would be like as your annoying boyfriend <3

spinning out, waiting for you to pull me in. i can see you're lonely down there. don't you know that i am right here?

i feel like you'd be a long-term relationship (like teenage years long term)

ik they went to some fancy all boys school so let's say you went to an all girls school near theirs that would often go on trips together (pls tell me that wasn't just my school that did that)

either that of you'd meet through extra curriculars or overlapping friend groups

EITHER WAY met when ye were young (13-14) and got together when ye were 16-17

tbh most people thought you'd only last a few months bcs it was a teenage relationship after all but you're so chill with each other that it became very clear very quick that ye were just different

major "my girlfriend's my best friend" vibes

because of that, every inhaler fan knows you

you're no longer referred to by your name

you're just "mother" now

it's low-key a problem

like in any of your instagram posts or cute little tiktoks, at least half of the comments have a silly little inhaler pfp and are calling you mother

anyways

he's so annoying

definitely a very playful relationship

mocking eachother and all that

telling anyone else (outside your friendgroup) to fuck off if they do the same

he himself wouldn't be very public with the relationship

like you wouldn't be the face of every instagram post but you'd be in a story every few weeks and you'd pop up in the middle of a photo dump here and there

the inhaler_on_tik account however....

fans play where's wally with you in the tiktoks

usually hiding in a window reflection or the hem of your jacket poking into frame

enough to know you're there

you'd be best friends with all the fans

gigs are your opportunity to make new friends

they all adore you

so many fan tiktoks from gigs just have you dancing away with them

they'd bring you flowers <3

but yeah even if bobby himself doesn't post you a lot, fans would get pictures of you two together and they'd be so cute 😭

most of them are taken before gigs when he's helping you out of the bus or ye're walking into the venue together

but someone got a picture of you two once at some silly little market in spain and you were looking at flowers and he was looking at you

they posted it to tiktok and you asked them to send it to you

it was your lockscreen for a bit x

BIRD BINGO!!!

if you're ever traveling without him, you'd take pictures of any birds you pass and send them onto him

i really need to make sure it's known that he'd be annoying

like imagine you're just lying in bed, reading or on your phone, and he just bellyflops on top of you

no warning

no escape

you're trapped

i said the same in my eli headcanons but i don't really get spooning vibes from him

no matter what way you fall asleep, at least some part of him will be touching you

whether he's full on wrapped around you or just got an arm thrown over your torso

it helps him sleep better

you're best friends with the band ofc

i mean, you practically grew up together

you and rob never have a moment of peace with them on tour

you could be curled up in bed, and all of a sudden, elijah's busting down your door and lying down beside ye to tell you about a new song idea

you finally think you're free for a moment having a smoke by the back of the bus? nope, ryan's there now purely because he wanted to annoy ye

josh is nice on ye though (not really) (he makes fun of ye all the time) (he's my little pookie bear angel) (he can do no wrong)

they love having you around

and even if you leave the tour bus to get some snacks and come back to them trying on your dresses and robert doing josh's eyeliner you love having them around too

you're starting to get the mother thing

they do feel like you're hyperactive little children

bobby skeetz, the man that you are, you'd be a great boyfriend

#robert keating x reader #bobby skeetz x reader #bobby skeetz #robert keating #inhaler oneshot #inhaler x reader #inhaler dublin #elijah hewson #ryan mcmahon #josh jenkinson

[smoshpvnk]

120 misc ship questions | shaymien edition

buckle the fuck up guys /pos

1. who rushes to open doors for the other?

damien

2. who drives more often?

either

3. who is more eager to jump in the shower with the other?

damien

4. who takes self care more seriously?

both but probably damien

5. what’s a song that reminds you of them?

starlight - muse / rather be - clean bandit / everywhere - fleetwood mac / j’s lullaby - delaney bailey + every song i’ve used to make an edit of them with (everything i know about love - laufey, end of beginning - djo, you & me song - the wannadies)

6. what’s another couple / duo (real or fictional) that reminds you of them?

ian and anthony tbh (also dan and phil but i don’t think anyone cares about my explanation)

7. which one keeps more things because they’re sentimental?

shayne

8. which one tells their parents about their partner first? how does it happen?

damien i feel like would be so excited bc he’s so fond of shayne that it would just accidentally slip

9. whose family are they more likely to stay with during holidays?

shayne’s maybe? bc az is closer?

10. whose parents are / were stricter?

shayne’s

11. who uses more emojis?

damien but like ironically

12. where was their first date?

so random soundstage /j uh idk maybe something casual so it wouldn’t feel do heavy at first. a restaurant they both enjoy or smthn

13. what’s their favorite game to play together (any kind)?

nidhogg

14. which one spams posts / links to the other?

damien “this reminded me of you” haas

15. who is the black cat and who is the golden retriever?

obviously damien black cat shayne golden retriever i mean come oN

16. what mythical creature / monster would they each be? (vampire, werewolf, dragon, fairy, etc.)

damien - vampire, shayne - something with lots of wisdom like druid idk

17. who urges the other to go sing a karaoke duet with them?

damien

18. what is their karaoke song?

rather be or an emo one like panic or fob losers (me hitting my 10th year as an emo mark)

19. who is more likely to serenade the other at random moments?

damien

20. who stares at the other from across the room?

damien

21. who brings a shopping haul of clothes home and who watches their fashion show?

both

22. who insists on paying when they go out to eat?

damien

23. who is more impulsive?

damien

24. who is ‘everything’ and who is ‘just ken’? /ref

damien is everything, shayne is just ken (sorry bud)

25. whose main goal its it to make the other blush?

damien

26. who is first to know about a new trend, meme, slang, etc.?

damien

27. who gets up early to make the other breakfast?

shayne

28. who insists they are their pets’ parents?

damien

29. do they have pets together? what kind, what names, etc.

mildy canon /s freyja and zelda

30. who is more of an animal whisperer / befriends wild animals?

damien

31. who has more patience?

shayne

32. who insists on fixing something themselves, and who would rather call a repair service?

damien wants to fix himself, shayne wants to call service

33. who turns something into an innuendo first?

damien

34. who takes longer to understand a joke or reference?

neither

35. who hides in the other’s arms during a horror movie?

shayne

36. who is more jumpy / scared easily?

shayne

37. who makes more movie references?

shayne

38. who thinks die hard is a christmas movie, and who doesn’t?

damien thinks it is, shayne thinks it isn’t (idk for sure though this can probably be fact checked)

39. who talks more during a movie?

damien

40. who carries the other bridal style?

damien

41. what are their thoughts on marriage?

hmmm idk. hesitant but open?

42. what’s the last name situation when / if they get married? (who’s last name do they take, do they keep theirs, do they hyphenate)

haa stopp (like haha, stop) i’m so funny guys (haas-topp or topp-haas idfk)

43. who wants the less traditional wedding?

damien

44. where do they get married, and where do they honeymoon?

probably in a more secluded pretty place in california, and they honeymoon in japan

45. where is their favorite place to travel?

japan

46. what do they do on vacation?

do all the touristy things, shop at nerdy places for magazines and trinkets, get lost

47. which one overpacks and which one underpacks?

both overpack?

48. who is the yapper and who is the napper?

it depends on the topic, if it’s about sports then shayne is the yapper and damien is the napper, if it’s maybe voice acting roles or something damien is the yapper and shayne is the napper

49. which one is a lighter sleeper?

damien

50. who is the moon and who is the sun?

damien moon shayne sun

51. who collects more? (figurines, pokemon cards, etc)

damien

52. who is more excited to decorate for the next holiday / event?

damien

53. who stopped believing in santa later than the other?

shayne

54. do they want kids together? give me all the details - names, what traits they inherit, etc.

in parent au i would think they maybe have 2 girls and 1 boy? alice, cheyenne, and ??? (on my sims they have 2 kids so far, klaus and alice)

55. who is a stricter parent and who is more lenient?

shayne maybe slightly stricter than damien

56. who reads a book, and who reads over the other’s shoulder while cuddling?

shayne reads, damien cuddles

57. which is booba and which is kiki? /ref

damien is booba, shayne is kiki

58. who believes in soulmates and who doesn’t?

neither but damien slightly believes more

59. who gets nostalgic more easily?

damien

60. who is more of a perfectionist?

damien

61. who hosts more parties?

neither

62. who makes handmade gifts more often for the other?

both!!! (damien’s little wooden board for him, shayne maybe mini paintings or origami 🥺)

63. which one is more formal when answering emails?

shayne

64. who prefers skinny jeans and who prefers baggy jeans?

damien - skinny jeans, shayne - baggy jeans

65. who’s better at roasting the other?

damien

66. who initiates more pda?

damien

67. which one is better at censoring their language, and which has less of a filter?

damien can censor better (twitch) shayne just isn’t as used to it

68. who insists on being player one?

shayne

69. which one snores like “honk shoo” and which snores like “hoooonk mimimi”?

damien honk shoo, shayne hoooonk mimimi

70. who gives more forehead kisses to the other?

damien

71. what does their future look like?

happy, content, open communication, side by side coexisting, love, support

72. which one believes in astrology more?

damien

73. what was their first kiss like?

with both consent and surprise

74. who steals the other’s clothes more often?

shayne

75. who steals the other’s food more often?

damien

76. do they believe in ‘celebrity hall passes’? if so, which celebrities are theirs?

damien maybe fictional characters, shayne pretty demispec so he doesn’t really have anyone to feel that way towards

77. what matching couples costumes do they wear?

something nerdy as fuckkkkkk from an anime or video game probably

78. who is naturally more cold / more hot?

shayne maybe cold for snuggles, damien for cute sleepy frustration of kicking the sheets off

79. which is more extroverted?

damien

80. how do they celebrate valentine’s day?

maybe a small outing but mostly at home together enjoying company, touch, and sappy sex hehe

81. what’s a holiday tradition they have? (ex. presents before breakfast on christmas)

insisting they don’t need to splurge on each other’s presents but they each give at least one that’s pricey but thoughtful

82. what niche pet names do they have for each other?

for damien from shayne - slaymien yaas, deem beem, damienuhhh

for shayne from damien - baby bird, my guy, bitch

83. who hates small talk and would rather have deep conversations?

shayne

84. what’s their icebreaker / olive branch after a disagreement?

“i brought home food from canes for us”

85. what kind of food or restaurant is their favorite to get together?

^

86. who believes in conspiracies more?

damien

87. which had their friends tries to set them up?

sorry matthew scott you will always be the wingman if it’s during so random days. if it’s during smosh days it’s courtney.

88. think of your favorite movie, then incorporate your pairing into it somehow and talk about it.

damien being jack skellington, shayne being sally née finklestein

89. when they’re separated in public, what do they yell out to find each other?

“SHAWNYAY” “DAMIENHAASEN”

90. professors!au. what subjects would they teach?

damien - linguistics or history, shayne - psychology or botany

91. ghostmates!au. who is the ghost that haunts the other?

damien

92. soulmates!au. how are they connected? do they have matching tattoos, names written on them, etc.

i haven’t finished my soulmates au fic but i did the stereotypical purple/black moon, yellow/blue sun

93. punk x pastel!au. which is which?

punk damien pastel shayne. this is canon

94. historical!au. what time period are they in? what are they up to?

probably victorian vampires like iwtv (gaaay)

95. hospital!au. who’s the doctor, who’s the patient, and how did they get in that situation?

shayne broke his ankle and doctor damien is confused how he got in that mess. or damien is a hypochondriac and doctor shayne is trying and failing to reassure him he is fine

96. massage parlor!au. who is the masseuse, who is getting the massage?

damien giver shayne receiver ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

97. angel x demon!au. who is the angel and who is the demon?

angel shayne demon damien

98. gender swap!au. what are their names? (ex. anthony is antoinette)

demia and shaniya?

99. superpowers!au. are they hero and sidekick? mortal enemies? villain duo? what powers do they have?

i love enemies to lovers villain damien hero shayne for some reason

100. timeloop!au. who is stuck and who helps them out of it?

shayne is stuck damien helps him out (read this fic now)

101. royalty!au. who is the royal and who is the knight / guard / maid etc.?

shayne is royal damien is the knight (read this fic now)

102. magic!au. what kind of magic do they use?

damien i can see either being a healer or persuasion. shayne again with wisdom like vast knowledge or nature powers idk

nsfw / suggestive ⚠️

you didn’t see me fill out any of this btw

1. what’s their favorite position?

missionary so they can keep taunting each other. or riding. or any way damien can touch shayne the most. or anywhere

2. who uses their mouth/teeth/tongue more?

damien

3. who uses their hands/nails more?

damien

4. who is a bit more adventurous?

hmmm. shayne?

5. who is more willing to go to a sex shop in person, and who is more embarrassed?

damien can wear a mask and somehow convince himself that he’s extroverted enough to small talk. shayne tried to just get him to order online

6. who is more into dirty talk?

damien

7. who is more into eye contact?

damien

8. what was their most risky / adventurous experience?

across the bed instead of up and down ? smoffice ? in the car in an empty parking lot ? idk

9. who likes to bite, and who likes to be bitten?

damien likes to bite. a lot. we have been over this (i was the one who made this question list)

10. what is their favorite sexual activity to do together / to the other?

damien marking shayne up, dirty talk, biting ^ shayne roleplay, appealing to senses, sense of mystery

11. which is more dominant / which is more submissive?

the d in damien stands for dominant and the s in shayne stands for submissive

12. what was their first time like?

very loving and gay and beautiful and sweet and sloppy

13. who likes to be spanked more?

shayne

14. who sends dirty texts more often?

damien

15. mile high club? yes or no?

too sleepy or anxious so no

16. what’s something they reserve for special occasions?

toys

17. how long into their relationship did it take for them to have sex?

i love the trope for them of like friends to lovers, so as soon as like, they decided they were gonna be more than platonic, it was pretty quick after. damien’s playful touches turned sensual very quickly

18. how often do they have sex?

pretty often bc damien’s pent up-ness will spill into other aspects (like being ‘horny’ in videos), and shayne just gets a lil irritable / attention seeking

#rpf #shipping #antis dni #shaymien #txt #ship questions #otp questions #otp prompts #ship prompts #misc ship questions #p #smoshblr #smosh ships #smosh shipping #shaymien thoughts

[dual-plunger-enthusiast]

Stuff DaFuq?!Boom! has done, a masterpost

As a Skibidi Toilet fan and artist, I do NOT condone any of what he has done. Blugray is a bad person and I do not support him in any way, shape or form. While I may still make fan-content, it does not mean I support him and his shitty actions. Liking content does NOT equal liking creator.

As a notice, this is all I have found so far, and I haven't really bothered with finding anymore new things. I have a life, I don't even really want to make this post, but I'm making it for awareness sake. If you have anymore information about Blugray, feel free to reblog with it. Thanks.

I do usually refer to DaFuq?!Boom as Blugray, as that is one of his aliases and is also quicker to type.

TW: THE N WORD IS USED IN THE FIRST TWO TWEETS, AND MENTIONS OF NAZIS IN THE NEXT TWO.

Tweet 1: 2021 screenshots of Blugray using the n word, claiming he has the "n word pass" which does not exist and does not condone him using the n word.

Tweet 2: Literally a whole VIDEO of Blugray saying the n word, along with dropping a hard r in the same video.

Tweet 3/Tweet 4: Same video, just in 2 different parts. Blugray's take on the Ukrainian/Russian war. I do not and will not engage in this sort of discussion due to personal anxiety, but it's kind of just Blugray being ignorant and believing in the propaganda fed to him.

This is a screenshot that doesn't belong to me or the entity that sent it, but there's also a George Floyd joke he made which is pretty fucking insensitive.

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

Though it is not as serious (it still is serious, just not as much) as Blugray's racist behaviour, he has also been copyright striking basically ANYTHING he can find Skibidi Toilet related (I believe theorists and reaction channels are excluded???)

I do not know much about copyright myself, so take this with a tiny grain of salt. I don't use twitter, I simply just get sent these for awareness, and I'm putting them into a post to help others know too.

Many are bummed Blugray is copy-striking content, although he doesn't technically own majority of the assets of Skibidi Toilet, just the storyline alone (and the toilet models I think), along with the fact the Skibidi is a mashup of two songs, that both happen to be copyrighted (I think?)

On the other hand, others defend Blugray's copy-striking since there ARE idiots out there stealing Blugray's content, along with even falsely copy-striking one of HIS actual videos, which Youtube did a wonderful job (sarcasm) handling. Blugray may just be copy-striking everything just to not deal with anymore theft and false copyright strikes.

I cannot say much about this in particular, because as mentioned, I don't know much about copyright. Once again, take with a grain of salt.

Tweet 5: TL;DR: Blugray copy-striked Gametoons for a Skibidi animation they did. Gametoons reached out offering to Delete all their Skibidi videos, but Blugray offered to do some licensing instead, and promising to NOT copy-strike anymore of their videos. He then turned back on his word and copy-striked two more of their videos, which has lead to a chance of channel deletion, meaning Gametoons will be gone forever.

Along with copyright striking Gametoons, he also copyright striked a really popular Roblox Skibidi fangame apparently? I do not have evidence of this, I simply saw news that the game was striked twice, and if you look on Roblox now, every single Skibidi fangame has been renamed to not have "Skibi" in its title.

This is all I have by far, I will try to update the post best I can if anything new arises, but just a reminder, I have a life and I do NOT really want to dedicate all my time just for this post. Thank you.

——————————————————————

Update 1: Gametoons has been resolved. However, all other copystrikes still happened and tbh I’ve lost track of what’s happened at this point so uh yeah take that as you will.

#skibidi toilet #edit: i found out the difference between the r slur and the hard r which was why i got confused (i thought they were the same thing) #edit 2: gametoons update

[shakespearean-snape]

Hi there! so glad to see you posting again I like a lot of what you have to say about Snape. I noticed you say a few times tho that your visual headcanon for Snape isn't conventionally attractive and I just wondered if you had any reference of what he looks like in your mind? An actor or other famous person? just someone like that?

I'm just curious how you imagine Snape because I admit I just see Alan Rickman as Snape in my head since I started with the movies as a kid and didn't read the books a few until years later. It always interests me so much when people say they read the books before the movies or read the books with the movies coming out and saw Snape as someone else.

Its ok if you can't think of anyone just thought I'd ask. thx!

Hello!

*waves enthusiastically like an idiot with zero chill*

I get so giddy when someone sends me an ask like this so I hope no one thinks I don't enjoy questions about Snape or my headcanons. As anyone who knows me knows, I think a lot and especially about those things I love so I always have lots of thoughts rolling around in my head I can be positively overeager to share with anyone interested.

So to answer your question, I don't have a specific person pinned down that is 100% like how I picture Snape in my mind but some close candidates would be a young Adrien Brody (which I think is common enough among Snape fans as a choice, right there with Adam Driver these days), obviously the man that JKR based Snape around, John Nettleship, someone like Adarsh Jaikarran as a potential Hogwarts-era and early 20s Snape (even if he is more good-looking than I usually lean, in some pictures he just channels Snape vibes for me quite a bit) and a very young Julian Richings if you've ever seen photos of him in his younger years (I have two here for you so you can see my point a bit, here and here).

Ironically, Julian Richings in the later years of his acting career would probably have been my first choice for a Voldemort fan cast back in the day when any Harry Potter reboot was purely in the realm of the hypothetical (I mean, c'mon, look at this and tell me you can't see it too) but as JKR is an unapologetic anti-feminist/TERF I provide no monetary support to any of her projects including any licensed games, the watching of future reboots or purchasing of future tie-in books in the HP universe, officially licensed HP merchandise, or even by giving traffic to what was formerly Pottermore, etc.

All I bring to the fandom now is my fan theories and love for Snape, which she not only does not benefit from but never seemed entirely at peace with given how the character got away from her and took off. I can't think of a better way to spite someone so utterly spiteful herself than to take the character she was most shocked by people loving in any capacity and celebrate him in every incarnation (gay, bi, trans, ace, autistic, poc, etc.) with my queer, gender-nonconforming little heart while she gets zero money off me for it.

Anyway I hope the visual guide gives you a little more insight into my mind. I've never seen Snape as "ugly" (even when I joke my Snape is "ugly" and I like him that way) but my mental picture of him is of a man whose looks might fall into that unconventionally attractive sphere or what some people call homely. Occasionally I veer off that a bit, as with Adarsh Jaikarran, oh, oh! And also Lee Soo Hyuk, Song Jae-Rim and Kento Yamazaki (ever since I saw him in the live-action Bloody Monday manga series adaptation)!

But yes, my favorite Snape and the Snape I love isn't usually model attractive but also not quite the gargoyle Harry describes (that kid had some ridiculously high standards of beauty tbh, about the only characters he didn't have mentally critical notes on their appearance was the unnamed Veela, Fleur, and Narcissa Malfoy so yeah he totally thought "Draco's mom has got it going on..." Lol!) but somewhere in that "unconventional" categorization of attractive which I feel really suits a man who so often defies easy categorization in general.

(Excuse all the edits. After I gave a few examples more started hitting me and I was like ohhhhh I should have shared them, why didn't I think to share them? So I may come back and make more edits throughout the day, no promises I won't! Lol)

#severus snape #pro snape #snape community #snape fandom #snapedom #snape headcanon #fuck jkr #anti jkr

[riddles-n-games]

Now that you've read the brothers Hawthorne, do you have any averyjameson headcanons or theories?

Hmm, first theory: Jameson's revelation to Avery about Prague will be a major plot line for them in discovering another incident like the Hawthorne Island fire but not covered in The Grandest Game. It might mean that at some point or another, Prague will be a destination to revisit and who knows, maybe a continent-wide European adventure for our fave duo and this time with all the brothers included. In the meantime, I think they will be too busy setting up the Grandest Game but I believe they will try their best to look into the situation and see what they can find out just nothing major yet. Maybe Avery will ask Toby if he knows anything but I don't know if she will feel like she is risking him because of Eve's takeover of the Blake fortune.

My second theory is that between TBH and TGG they will go to Scotland and stay at Vantage, perhaps also have a more formal introduction to the Johnstone-Jameson family while they're there. Kind of hope that Jamie gets to meet his grandmother. Something just tells me his next big plot might revolve around both his grandmothers since his paternal grandmother was also mentioned quite a bit because of Vantage so I can't help thinking JLB wants us to infer something important there. Going back to Avery and Jameson, one part that stood out to me was when he brought up the fact that she gave away most of the foreign properties to the foundation and then asked her what she thought of Scottish castles. I'm questioning if he meant it like a question of co-ownership to curate the place together because his uncle did say he would pay for the upkeep of it or if they still hadn't visited the Scottish estate that formerly belonged to his grandfather and so they might make a trip to both Vantage and the Hawthorne property in Scotland because Avery hadn't given that one away yet. I also theorize that when she was about to answer him she was already getting an idea for a dare. Something to do with cliff climbing, likely. Also, that scene when they were running for the cliffside after the first clue was given in the Game, I couldn't help but think of Max's words in The Hawthorne Legacy and it felt like such a callback to that. Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God) would have been such a great song to pair with that scene.

Anyways, onto some headcanons! Headcanon 1: So after their UK trip, Avery starts teasing Jameson about being part British by indirectly messing with him. She randomly makes references to Sherlock Holmes (the one featuring Benedict Cumberbatch, of course), purposefully brings up Downton Abbey at least twice when they're scrolling through shows to watch or just straight up leaves an episode running on the TV when Jameson is in her room (she deliberately goes around a corner and tries to catch a glimpse of his expression but when she does, he always looks stone-faced, better than Grayson's it actually scares her). On karaoke nights, she always chooses a British singer's song for him to sing when it's his turn (mostly One Direction and Adele). For his birthday, she invited a bunch of famous British actors and singers (she actually managed to get 1D to get reunited for that and if Max, Xander, and Jameson weren't the biggest fangirls that night🤭). Avery also begins calling him nicknames like Your Highness, Duke, His Excellency, etc. He just rolls his eyes every time. In other attempts to rile him up, she uses British slang and tells him that he should be inclined to use more of it now that they know he’s part Brit. Meanwhile, on her birthday, he got her back by getting a real tiara (with Oren’s help, duh) for her to wear for the day and it was made with emerald and orange topaz gemstones. She took it with grace and they had a Cinderella moment when they danced in the Great Room alone after everyone left.

Headcanon 2: On a more serious note, some days, Jameson’s mind gets occupied by thoughts of his father and he gets really quiet and withdrawn from everyone. Usually, in those situations, he ends up on the roof and with the knife in hand, constantly twirling it. While everybody else leaves him alone, Avery finds him up there and she never says anything, just comes up to him and hugs him from behind (Jameson secretly loves her hugs a lot). They stay like that for a while, in complete silence, until he turns around and hugs her back but not without a forehead kiss. Then, he’d take her hand and trace little symbols onto her hand with his thumb. Some she would recognize, others are just random. It becomes their unspoken version of Tahiti as they try decoding what the other signs.

Headcanon 3: Since the night he told his secret to Avery, Jameson’s mind often wanders back to his grandmother and his grandfather’s words about the way a Hawthorne man loves: only once and never frivolously. He reflects on his grandfather’s love for his grandmother, Toby's love for Hannah, and then looks at his own relationship with Avery. Although he wouldn't tell a soul, it's obvious enough that he seems settled on her and just knows she's the one. She is his endgame. There would never be anyone like her, not before like Emily and no one after. One day, he takes her to the treehouse and tells her what his grandfather told him and Grayson that Fourth of July a few years back, the Christmas that they got the treehouse and why it looked the way it does now. Avery just listens and at the end asks him, "So, what now? You have that look in your eye." Jameson tells her he plans to have the treehouse fixed, to add more stuff than there was before, make it better than the old man made it originally. Then, he tells her that he's been thinking about them and everything that happened so far and she's a bit confused where he's going with it until he pulls out a promise ring. Avery is taken aback, reasonably so, but she accepts it and finds on the inside that it says Heads or Tails, calling back to the way they started their relationship and they kiss.

Hope you enjoyed this!

#jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #averyjameson #hawthorne shenanigans #hawthorne headcanons #the inheritance games theories #tig theories #the inheritance games thoughts #the brothers hawthorne spoilers #tbh spoilers #the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #the grandest game #tig #tbh #tgg

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

hey) I'm reading a bukowski (aka harry's favourite poet is I remember correctly?) poetry collection right now and I was wondering if we as a fandom knew that because I wasn't here when the album came out so I might have missed people talking about it? so I saw he has a poem called bluebird (which is already 🤔), but then I read it and and omg he's talking about a "bluebird" living inside him and him not letting this "bluebird" out because it would ruin his career!!! (I don't have the book at hand right now sorry you should read it yourself probably my memory is shit) harry would definitely connect to it, wouldn't he, see his situation with glass closet in it and maybe that's what he's referencing when talking about a bluebird?

hey babe!! yeah we have been dabbling in bukowski, or at least i have (esp in my only angel post, a song that features bukowski writing at the beginning). i know for sure that not nearly every reference has been unearthed. i don't think it's possible to get them all tbh. i'm not an avid poetry reader, but i have to admit i like bukowski's poetry from time to time. this one, bluebird, was brought to my attention after harry's house! you can read a post here but it's just us screaming into the void jhsgfd. but now that you've sent this to me and i'm bored at work i figured i'd dive a little deeper.

There's a bluebird in my heart that Wants to get out but I'm too tough for him I say, stay in there, I'm not going To let anybody see you There's a bluebird in my heart that Wants to get out But I pour whiskey on him and inhale Cigarette smoke And the whores and the bartenders And the grocery clerks never know that He's in there

'bluebird', unclear as to what that means to the poet. but it's soft <> tough. ～"somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly," from the wizard of oz / "if i was a bluebird, i would fly to you," daylight. strong associations with the queer identity // a desire to fly away: sott, if i could fly, matilda, etc.

this paragraph is so hs1 to me. drinking, smoking, getting high, having sex, anything to think about what's truly inside of you. then i can't help but think about fine line's "we'll get the drinks in, so i get to thinking of her" where it's the other way around.

the bluebird is also real to bukowski, he's undeniably inside of him, he doesn't try to disprove that. he just hides him by keeping up a different persona, by having a hardened outer shell. // harry and his image

'i'm too tough for him' implies that it's his own choice to keep his bluebird hidden

There's a bluebird in my heart that Wants to get out but I'm too tough for him I say, Stay down, do you want to mess Me up? You want to screw up the Works? You want to blow my book sales in Europe? There's a bluebird in my heart that

the implication that if you show your true inner self, you don't sell as well. what secret about you could possibly fuck over your career? - brings the hiding of the bluebird in a new light, since this is an external motivation to change who you are

～"what if i'm down, what if i'm out? what if i'm someone you won't talk about?", falling

～"put a price on emotion, i'm looking for something to buy. you've got my devotion, but man i can hate you sometimes," fine line

～"i'm not going to get lost, i'm not going to go broke, staying cool," mfasr

Wants to get out But I'm too clever, I only let him out At night sometimes when everybody's asleep I say, I know that you're there So don't be sad Then I put him back But he's singing a little In there, I haven't quite let him die And we sleep together like that With our secret pact And it's nice enough to make a man Weep, but I don't weep, do You?

this reminds me of harry saying he feels most beautiful when he's asleep.

～"just stop your crying, it's a sign of the times"

it just fits so much of harry's art, where he pretends to be someone he's not and tries to come to terms with how people see him or how he sees himself. bukowski spent a lot of his career struggling with who he was, and same goes for harry. even though he's clearly in a more accepting era, he still battles with that split in his life - public and private.

i also think the poem's ending can be seen in a more positive light, as the poet taking control of his life and his privacy. he determines what others see of him. in this layered poem, where the poet makes it seem like he's acting of his own volition by keeping his bluebird tucked away from view, but actually lets it be known that he kind of has to, the issue of one's identity in the industry is prodded at. i think for harry, in a life where he has very little control anyway, his decision to put a giant lock on his private life is about the only one he could make. he probably could still have a personal instagram or twitter acc if he wanted to, showing non-descriptive holiday pics or whatever. he chooses not to, and this is only in recent years that he's begun to be more and more secretive. because maybe it's either all or nothing to him. either the cage is shut or the bluebird flies free

#bluebird #kind anon #lyric analysis #not really but oh well #bukowski #daylight #harry's image #thank you anon! #much appreciate the chance to use my brain once in a while

[incorrectcoldflashblog]

Sooooo...is it too much to ask for your answers to all of the questions on the ask list about your country?? (I hope you will say no and tell me to select a handful, if that's what you prefer.)

Sorry, sorry, I totally meant to do this faster but that was a lot of questions, haha. Putting this under a read more because it got LONG.

1.) favourite place in your country?

Honestly there are a lot of beautiful places in France, but a personal favorite would be Biarritz, near the Spanish border. My whole extended family used to vacation there when I was a kid.

2.) do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad?

Given the choice I’d prefer to travel abroad.

3.) does your country have access to sea?

Yes, via the English channel, the Atlantic and the Mediterranean sea.

4.) favourite dish specific for your country?

La blanquette de veau, a dish that was originally from Normandy :)

5.) favourite song in your native language?

Nooo, don’t do this to me. I hate picking favorites. I’ll just share one that has some personal significance for me and not call it my favorite ;)

6.) most hated song in your native language?

I don’t know that I really hate that many songs, but on a personal level I definitely never wanna hear Jusqu’ici tout va bien by Gims again as long as I live. It’s the theme song to a show my roommate watches every evening (which means I have to hear it Every.Day.) and it irks me that the title is a reference to one of the best scenes from my favorite movie when the song itself is so annoying. But maybe I just feel that way because I have to hear it so, so often.

7.) three words from your native language that you like the most?

Clair-obscur (chiaroscuro), l’engrenage (an ineluctable series of events) and it’s technically two words but l’amitié amoureuse. The literal translation would be ’friendship in love’ but it’s not actually a romantic love, it just describes basically having an intense but platonic crush on your friend. It’s one of my favorite concepts in the French language.

8.) do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?

No, we don’t, for better or for worse France is very uniquely French, lol.

9.) which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best?

The one I know best is probably Switzerland, just because my great-uncle lived in Lausanne and we visited him a few times when he was still alive. Fun fact, he ran away to Switzerland after having an affair with a married woman because her husband threatened to kill him, lol.

The one I’d like to visit most is Italy, just because that’s where part of my family is from (from Parma) and I’ve never been.

10.) most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

Putain, which I use approximately 500 times a day XD

11.) favourite native writer/poet?

Listen, how am I meant to pick just one when there are so many??

Classic literature: Gustave Flaubert

Contemporary writer: Marie Ndiaye

Favorite poet: maybe Marguerite Yourcenar? Although my favorite poem might be L’Irréparable by Charles Baudelaire.

You didn’t ask but my favorite play is Le Cid by Corneille. Romeo and Juliet wishes XD

12.) what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem?

I think there’s just always something missing in translation tbh.

13.) does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?

I mean, I know outsiders often comment on the fact that French people kiss each other on the cheek to say hello (se faire la bise) but I don’t know if that counts as a strange tradition.

14.) do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV?

Ehh, to me French cinema/TV is divided in two categories, really fucking good and really fucking awful, haha, there’s pretty much no in-between. A bad movie is called a navet (a turnip) by the way^^

15.) a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?

There’s a lot of jokes and memes that originated from the tv show Kaamelott that are going to be hard to decipher for people who haven’t seen it. Here’s one I think you’ll enjoy:

16.) which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?

The one I agree with is that French people complain all the time because we really, really do, haha. I don’t agree with the stereotype that French people are lazy though, we just don’t live to work but why are we acting like it’s a bad thing?? I don’t know, there are a lot of negative stereotypes about French people but tbh at the end of the day I don’t really care that much.

17.) are you interested in your country’s history?

Sure, it’s definitely interesting, but there’s so much of it it can be a little intimidating.

18.) do you speak with a dialect of your native language?

Nope.

19.) do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem?

Our emblem is le coq (the rooster), which you only see on the French team’s shirts, just like you’re most likely to see the flag when there’s a World Cup. It’s fine I guess, I don’t really have an opinion on it.

Our national anthem is kind of problématique but it does go hard. I’ll give it that. Like, if you’ve ever watched that scene from Casablanca where they sing La Marseillaise you’ll understand what I mean by that.

20.) which sport is The Sport in your country?

Mbappé Soccer :)

21.) if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be?

I’ve been puzzling over this question for weeks, haha, and I’m still not sure what it means, like? Do you mean annoying people I’d launch into space or XD

22.) what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed?

I don’t have a lot of national pride tbh. I’m ashamed about a lot of the public discourse, the islamophobia, the state violence, the way Nicolas Sarkozy and the media brought far-right talking points into the mainstream and now we’re all swimming in their shit.

I’m proud to know that French people are always ready to burn shit down though.

23.) which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country?

According to Google it’s beer. I would’ve probably said wine.

24.) what other nation is joked about most often in your country?

Probably Belgium. There’s lots of belgian jokes.

25.) would you like to come from another place, be born in another country?

I don’t really think about stuff like that. Every country has its own issues, so it is what it is.

26.) does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?

Oh boy, does it ever. Every time a new season of Emily in Paris comes out you can bet French Twitter is gonna have a field day over this shit XD

27.) favourite national celebrity?

When you say national celebrity my first thought immediately goes to Jean-Jacques Goldman. Amazing songwriter, but also very well-known for his work with the Restos du Cœur, a French charity that was founded by his friend the comedian Coluche and les Restos famously do more for the poor than our own government ever would. Probably why Goldman gets elected personnalité préférée des Français every other year. (He also pays his taxes in France, unlike some people, and we always appreciate that here.)

28.) does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?

It does. I think the most famous are the river Seine, the Mont-Blanc (although that crosses over into Italy) and as far as lakes go I’m sure there are a lot but I can’t think of a really well-known one.

29.) does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country?

My city does have beef with another city, but I won’t say which for privacy reasons ;)

30.) do you have people of different nationalities in your family?

My paternal grandmother was from Laos and my paternal grandfather’s family immigrated from Italy (not him directly, but his mother). I think there’s some German (well, Prussian) and Flemish on my mother’s side. My aunt’s husband is also from Italy, and my eldest brother’s wife is from Madagascar. I think that’s all :)

Thank you so much for asking, friend, I can only hope I didn’t totally bore you to death XD

“Hi, I’m not from the US” ask set

[bettyshoweduptotheparty]

I just wanted to say what a genius you are. Your theory about midnights is so on point, so smart, I stan it so hard

I wanted to ask - what do you think (furthering your idea/reading) about the midnight in Cinderella? That exact moment when all the magic disapears and it's just her, plain and honest.

And Taylor was Cinderella in the "Bejeweled" music video! Do you have any ideas how it can maybe change the meaning of the song?

The midnights is also the trasition, the change, the end and the beginning. This is all so symbolic and I am convinced you are right.

Maybe this was all discussed already, forgive me if you talked about this, I am just so excited so I wanted to ask you

Thank you, lovely! (But I can promise you I'm absolutely no genius, my hyperattentive brain just latches on to things and tries to offer solutions until things make sense, doesn't mean they actually come to pass 😉)

When you say Cinderella, do you mean the classic story or any particular film adaptation? I haven't seen many films, other than the classic Disney, and it's been a while since I've read the story tbh. I've briefly touched on the Cinderella parallel in my midnights to daylight essay, I'm fairly certain the Bejeweled mv is heaving with clues and Easter eggs but I haven't done a deep dive. Cinderella was a lead theme in the midnights era ever since we got the album title, seeing as midnight plays such a central role in the story. She changes at midnight and Taylor's 'Meet me at midnight' coupled with all the clocks and counting down imagery (countdown to open the Eras tour, too), it's definitely felt like a year-long countdown... but to what I can't tell you, I'd love to know myself. Love how Taylor's Cinderella wants the castle and not the prince though 😋

I agree that midnight is definitely a symbol of transition and change, first minute of a new day, clean slate and all. In my Anti Hero/Matilda post I pointed out that Taylor references the song 'Naughty' from Matilda the musical in her tour performance of Anti Hero and that song also mentions Cinderella and how, if you don't have a fairy godmother, you need to take charge of your own fate. Might be a nod to her re-recording process and reclaiming her art, being a form of re-writing the story. It's tricky because the masters heist most likely also prevented her from coming out, so every step in the direction of reclaiming that also feels like a reach towards a coming out (at least to me), but it might not be (and I've learned it's better not to get your hopes up). There is a whole 12 part theory series on TikTok called the 'Karma theory' that all relates to theories on unreleased music, but could just as easily apply to queer flagging and a slow coming out journey. And who's to say both can't be true at the same time... there is so much I'm sure we haven't worked out yet and God knows how long it will be before it all makes sense in hindsight. (For my sanity, I hope it's sooner rather than later!)

#gaylor #thanks for your question!

[definitelynotshouting]

posting this screenshot of your question as opposed to just answering the full ask to protect your privacy, anon, but im glad you find my fic resonating so hard with you!!! im always really happy when people feel seen by my writing :] and im very flattered that you enjoy my worldbuilding so much!!!

As for your question, yes!! Every single song in the playlist references a specific scene or moment in the fic, in chronological order (which is why sometimes the songs get moved around a bit, as i figure out more concretely where their corresponding scenes will go). It's not done, obviously-- im hunting for tons more songs that fit my insane criteria pretty much constantly, but everything in there is directly connected to a scene thats either happened or is planned out >:] you're free to speculate, and you're double free to come speculate in my inbox, i love seeing people's thoughts on the playlist dkdhsjdjsj

Tbh i could talk about this playlist for HOURS, the way i have it set up is so so deliberate, and there are a bunch of tiny little easter eggs and fun little meta bits within the titles and sometimes in the placement of the songs themselves. One thing im especially proud of is that each song corresponds to its scene via lyrics. This is not just a vibes playlist, i have very deliberately hunted down songs that i feel match the scene in their lyrics and meaning, although often in a more abstracted sense than a direct 1:1. It has to make a modicum of sense to me to go into the playlist. The other fun thing is that not all of these songs are from Grian's pov >:] much like how in the fic, we'll start getting other hermit povs once we get back to hermitcraft proper

#shouting speaks #asks #hunger au #compliments #treat the playlist as a spoilers without spoilers type deal #i also have songs that mark the next arc to me #the view between villages by noah kahan is my arc 2 marker #and softie by kiltro is my arc 3 marker #arc 3 has the least fleshing out rn in terms of songs so im trying to put a little more focus on that #altho theres only so much i can do until we get closer to it #arc 1 i consider already filled out #im trying to avoid adding to that one now bc i feel like its got enough in it to be considered fully fleshed #so arc 2 and 3 are where im putting the bulk of my concentration #GODSS.... I LOVW THIS PLAYLIST GUYS I PUT SO MCUH THOUGHT INTO IT #txt

[thechaseofspades]

Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur ramble time (***Spoilers ahead, trying to keep it light though***)

This is officially my favorite active Disney show (not counting The Owl House because it only has one episode left), and top 3 overall behind Ducktales and Owl House. Which is saying a lot when a show is up in that tier just six episodes in.

Way (waaay) more under the cut...

First, let's talk about Lunella. Specifically, her role in the plots of all these episodes. Every one of them teaches her a lesson not only for defeating the villain, but more importantly a life lesson. And not just "aw gee I'm gonna be a horrible person for the first half of this for no reason other than in service of the lesson." We get to see her flaws established, why she has them, and how it affects her relationships with friends, family, and even herself. We are getting to see Lunella naturally learn and grow as a borderline teenager, and that's just awesome.

I raved about the visuals last time but this show just has such a unique style. The next time somebody complains about western media all looking the same, show them this show. There is not a single wasted frame, and every chance for a neat visual or background bit or whatever is taken advantage of.

My favorite element is how the characters slide or snap or otherwise move between poses. It reminds me of Clone High, especially the scene in Ep. 3 with Casey and her dads. It gives the show this energy that makes it feel like everything is moving all of the time. Plus, the gag of Casey sliding out of frame in the cafeteria in the Beyonder episode was really funny.

And the humor! I didn't keep count but it felt like I was laughing at a lot of the jokes, even just the sight gags like I was describing up top. The characters are starting to stand out and find themselves which is a big step in my show-watching experience.

And the music!! How many other Disney shows are gonna have a Childish Gambino song that they have to censor every couple words? What a move. I want to see the S&P emails on that one.

Anyway, I cheated and listened to some of the soundtrack a couple nights ago in anticipation and it absolutely delivers. But for as good as it is, the visuals make it pop. If you saw the first two episodes and how they ended, you know what I mean.

The Beyonder is a whole thing that I'm gonna take another appearance or two to get an opinion on. Seems like if the Collector was an adult, which is scary tbh. The ending of his episode really threw me for a loop.

LGBTQ+ rep shows up all over the place in this show. We've not gotten a main character yet, but Casey's dads have I think appeared way more than Violet's dads ever did. When they're not in screen, there's references to them in Casey's room for example. There's also trans flags, both blatant and hidden, littered all over. There's a scene where Lunella meets a character and they exchange pronouns, one of them using they/them. We also get another enby side character from that scene, although I don't think they've had much outside of that except for one other mention.

(this paragraph contains spoilers for an unreleased future episode(s)) Based on the soundtrack, I think a love-centric episode is coming up. Seems to be straight and I assume it's Lunella and a guy. Not 100% though and I'd be pleasantly surprised if it went in a different direction. Please come back to this in a month or two and tell me how dead wrong I was.

.

Future spoilers are over now.

What else... I dunno. Clearly I have a lot to say and will probably think of something else later, but if you for some reason decided to stick with this whole ramble then that's awesome.

TL;DR, Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur is amazing and the first six episodes are on Disney+ so please go watch it

#moon girl and devil dinosaur #marvel's moon girl and devil dinosaur #mgadd #mgadd spoilers #lunella lafayette #casey calderon #the beyonder

[thesongmachine]

Good evening

Can you please write (platonic) celestia x trad goth reader (if comfortable I haven't seen you write anything with her) here's a link for reference

https://aesthetics.fandom.com/wiki/Trad_Goth

omg yes! I love this idea sm, sorry it took forever to make this!!!

Celestia Ludenberg x Trad Goth! Reader (Platonic)

okay so I feel like she would rlly like having a Trad Goth friend

or just a friend who slightly resembles a peice of her

tbh I feel like she's really picky with who she hangs out with so she must have RLLY liked you

she kinda just was like 'you. your my friend' and she just carried you along wherever she went

odd but sure you'd be her friend

after a bit you guys get along rlly well!

you like having sleepovers almost every night and you do things like

introduce her to goth music, do Trad Goth makeup on her, let her dress you guys up

just silly stuff like that!!!

back to the music topic

I feel like she knows a little bit about goth music and stuff

and she's probably listened to a song or two

but other than that, not rlly a lot

BUT once you show her more songs

they def make it on her spotify wrapped-

maybe top 5 or smthn???

you guys are also gossip buddies

when you sleep over you don't even say 'hello' it's just

'omg did you see what so and so was wearing... ew.'

like even if you aren't mean it's just fun???

mainly about ppl who you dislike

after like your first week of becoming friends you guys barely sleep at your own house

your always either out or at the other person's house staying the night

I ALSO feel like you guys go clubbing together at a goth club 🤞

you guys eat so hard it's crazyyy

she prob doesn't go out much before you

but she definitely learns to enjoy it when she does meet you

I feel like she kinda warms up to you once you become her REAL friend

like she def trusts you with her life, and you do too

like when you two get old the lore is finna be wild

but you guys are def each others ride or die <33

#x reader #fanfiction #danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #celestia ludenberg #celestia ludenberg x reader

[bogmommy]

I don't think she'd release a WHOLE album that makes her look so cringey and out of touch and down-bad for a racist etc etc just so a handful of super obsessive online fans can get that its ironic. But leaves everyone else, include most fans thinking 'yikes'

That's like gaylor levels of thinking

Also I just don't think boy genius or other artists would write tattooed golden retriever or the 1830s thing or half the other shit

at this point i don't think she can BREATHE without being "cringey and out of touch", people will always find something to be mad about and i think she has just stopped caring about whether or not people "get it". the whole album is 2h long and i absolutely understand if you haven't listened to the whole thing but those two bits are literally just two lines out of. TWO HOURS of music so i don't think it's very fair to call the whole thing cringey based on just that.

i adressed the 1830's/golden retriever thing in my reply to the other anon. what do you mean by "half the other shit"? every popular indie artist has at least one song with questionable lyrics tbh

to me many of the references that make it feel ironic felt really obvious, i agree that a lot of swifties go above and beyond to find hidden meaning in EVERYTHING and gaylor truthers are delusional but i think this is a case of it actually being really overt tbh

#taylor swift