#please don't mind the little flaws in the picture

[rosey100]

Just thought I'd draw some roses 💐

Some Rose inspired by @kazzykatt 's aus

Wanted

Brair

23

🩶💣🐈‍⬛🌒

I closely based on Loona from Helluva Boss and Batgirl/Barbara but with a black market father who sold her and her parakeet for "a check up" and has never been adopted once growing up. By the time she runs away at 17, Bair survives whatever is needed to steal, sells scams, everything for money to even get some fries or a small place to stay till she makeshift a shed from an abandoned train. She adapted skills and knowledge to make it where if it were making distractions or trying not to get caught by anybody, whether they were a dog fighter or police she can a brothel paunch the light bulbs out of them easy and also has some special effects from the check up let just say no one can't make this up but nobody will believe it.

Her personality is mostly cold, and she can be a bit stubborn and harsh, but she is understanding, bold, outgoing, convincent, and sociable. She is a very smart (street smart) and calculated too. Brair mainly cut off, showing her emotions or physical even her weakness in life are off limits and her feelings are merely closed off to everyone who meets her but she might well threatening people if they give off her the wrong way.

Can things get more crazy for her life(the answer is yes) on her regular " business" routes to a factory to give someone "a simple pack", but things got too fresh with that and she had to go in the place to get the money she was going for leaving the client outside while going in with his lab coat. Managin to get caught by fixing her looks and going through the vents to get to the locker. After getting the money, she stumbled into an explosive sound of glass breaking and birds chirping? Not wanting to be nosey she kept walking towards the exit and go home but curiosity had other plans, peeping in the lab she started to see two dudes trashed the whole room beyond prepare and Brair was mostly known the situation too well on why. The site of motion of the two men usually motive that she heard about and her knowledge of the is entire area suspected of starting animal testing for their products it was no surprise why two people wanted for their crimes to come in the factory to make damage and let out some animals that were almost ready to be tested on. As fate had it she was caught by the two men and she didn't have any cover up leaving her expose to a whole, got even more worse when someone caught all of them ran out to call cops but got " knocked out ".Let's just say no one knew what to do except run the fu#k out of there as fast as possible (but now without a few animals or more), and before that, a security guard came in front of her asking why she was doing in the factory hall realized she had no disguise she was about to going to the head office while the bros were almost free til the guard grab her wrist, turned around and saw them mid of escape. When he was about to alert the cops, the guy lost consciousness as Brair's teeth slowly vemon enough to tranquilize him, as all three of them ran out while throw another ball of dynamic on the roof for a distraction.

Apocalipsis

Rosa

18 ?

🦴🧫⚔️🐦‍🔥

She is the first child who came to the chew somehow at 3 y/o alive of terror and chaos. The group was not in the most likely position to even be able to look after themselves, let alone an three year old nearly covered in bl00d that is not her own( Mero almost thought of dangled her off the roof but decided to not go with it calling her Edge for awhile before changing her name 🫣) but kept her knowing the Threats outside the Tortuga so far she was kept in a room for safety measures. Rosa may have been grateful for the hospitality spake that she would leave if she had anywhere to go anyway, and that when everyone else knew things definitely changed.

Life may not be sunshine and rainbows, but she can picture a good glimpse of the life that could be. Some may think she is a defenseless wallflower jokes on them she's a beast and a wild and dangerous one at moments of disaster comes at the door, one time in particular when she was playing with some rocks and a hyena came in the room seamlessly fear wasn't coming into mind was is gruesome, by the time Mero come in to see a red splatter room and a little girl holding out a detach head in front of them bl00d covered mouth.. chewing whatever face it had (no amount was wasted that day).

Ro is pretty smart and observative even at a young age but mostly less humanly emotionally than the chew suspected that she would be growing up, though it could be the isolation and the small notion of the chew (besides Collin)tolerance of just keeping her alive. Maybe she's a small bit they had to deal with or was a bitter reminder of the past either way she knows all too well about faces, meaning that knowledge every single feature is clear to her without even a word and she can prevent any attacks from any animal even without falls through it took a lot of practice and scratches.

Xverse

Aose

20

👩🏽‍🎨⛓️‍💥🪆🪢

She was a new art school sophomore student who was bubbly, full of ambition ( I got inspired by Harley Quinn and characters like her)and who mightily have known she'd been followed by who came in her dorm that night. She had calls last at night, random creepy notes on her desk, dead flower buds at her door, and by then, it had gotten worse as she'd grown a bit more paranoid before the day happened

She has burd and badly missing memories about the night she was kidnapped. She's kind of has half of memories of her fighting off someone to the ground, but something hit her head, and nowadays, it was just a rain cloud painting, a broken bottle, and yellow eyes? Her mind is still in a blur due to that night and nothing else. In one incident, a test was performed in where she was injected with something, and she was in room full with endless supplies of medications. She was more concerned with what the results of the injection than whatever medicinal effects it could cause. It didn't really help when her body (she was unconscious) laying on the floor shaking when she came to half of her facial and physical form was unrecognizable and that,she looked down at her hands now in chains and hread a voice say "it was for her own good". Enraged with everything that happened, she started at whaling and screaming in on the top of her lungs. Asking what happened to deserve this? She started hitting the walls even if her hands were blooded, but they didn't, then someone came in-and-in a fit of rage. Sheet, you didn't know what happened. But for everyone else, all they saw was the dead body. At least her hands were somewhat free, but her mental state cracked, and since then, she always had a smile on her face.

The effects of the medicines mix in her did much more to a physical form, but a somewhat form, she started to become more aggressive and feisty when five stronger people have to force her to the task room, become more faster on her own two feet even if she ran on broken glass or lava, annihilated a whole steel table in minutes using one hand and her hearing is Is almost third percent of naturally hearing in a more normal human way and because of the incident she grew more tolerant any pain since.

Trottamundoss

Rosita

25?

🪷🎀❤️‍🔥🩰

For what I can say about her: she's mixed with Pinkie pie's personality, golden retriever vides, and a dash of calm blanket of 60's flower power in a large bowl and I throw it in a garden bed ( but sprinkling some thorns in the mix so) and the rest is sun baked for a while. Mostly sweet, bubbly, fun-loving, graceful, cheerful, and smiling girl with a heart of gold 💛

What I think she likes is that it's basically enjoying sunny days, music, friendly company, walks in parks, blowing bubbles, playing with the critters, dancing in the field, etc. ( Gosh, bless her, I made a fu#king deer). I also think that since she likes a big pile of wholesome, Rosita is very good at 🥁 air flying (yes believe it) where she can find a high place dropped herself off and she can just float in the air kinda like a dandelion but without the process of dying just float for long time till she finds a place to lands on

Defenseless as she is for a lot of would take their chances for the kill, but don't think she's knows her opponents will do, that why this little ray of sunshine can burn you when she exposes her bristles that gives a temporarily painful experience for anyone who came to harm her or anyone who seems to be in danger. There's something else she can bo where if she's surrounded , she could spin round liking one of those ballet moves and could just throw up thorns from all of her hair and body and we strike people down like a russian ballet dan throw loose throwing stars at the same time dancing, Also turns into a pack of flowers. FYI

Space

Rosaclipse

12

🪐🌠🩷🤓

Something happened... something weird happened the day she was born, a long solar eclipse happened and let just say no one survived except her a small, crying, defenseless slime baby who was just hungry and had no idea what happened(or at least that what was said), No one know what happened, whether it was a monster that came in or at a sessionation assassination or anything if for some reason, they left her alone and alive for what . Basically, with bodies who they might believe were her parents. But no one knows since no one couldn't tell since everything was covering like some weird acid. But did not come from her as a baby.. Luckily, she would be in good hands after a long time looking for a good home and have no knowledge of her past, but figured that good for her.

She has been a working experience for almost anyone who's currently knows her, at most shy, fearful, very docile, but is smart,kindhearted, and free spirit. It was between trust and people in general for her. Basically, just being nervous about strangers and having to talk about her to caretakers was hard before she warmed up to them, but that aside is just a sweet, loving star hiding behind the clouds. Ro is also really smart, like her IQ sore would be higher for even university professors to quit and let her take their jobs saying fu#k it.

Ro could do more than just floating all over the place, and being a smart cookie, she actually runs super fast though not much light speed fast but it's hardly anything can catch her so that good right. Also she gives off electricity her can subtract thousands of debris and other times where if you shake her a bit she glow 100% natural light from her own body just like that nobody knew till they found her upside down on the floor just shining bright 🌟. She has been doing well at teleconesis she a little shy about showing that, but she is good at it

Wild school

Rosalie

21

🐺🎆🕵🏽‍♀️🏍

She's Jade from Victorious, but softer and "secretly" a sweet pea holding a "Don't try me B!cth til I have my coffee " coffee mug with a small breeze of Belle from Beauty and the Beast (but not in the whole stockholm syndrome thing ) so she can be a bookworm as well.

It is no surprise that her background is a mystery. Besides, she was just transferred to the principal's understandings, but there are times when rumors may progress in the mix is almost a theory, and Ro could never care less than a ferrell cat in the middle of fu*king traffic😑. Besides, it's not like she's there for "something else" or something magical, just some good ol' learning is all

Rosalie isn't really social, it can be on for mostly any type of gathering or parties, that she would be forced to go to but as long as you don't underestimate her or judge her for anything( She checked a whole gallop mix of Spite and cocktail mix while filling knives for darts all in the center at the same time for being call a whimp of a female and no one can't say sh!t to her without being out did 🎯 no joke ) you think on the top of your head. Her own willpower can be quite terrifying, especially when her really knows what the situation she could be in, whether it's deadly round house kick a door down closed by some bratty girls or kicking some jeck's ego down on a flirting attempt while Tempting her for a few drinks plus she can read body language real good and surprisingly excellent fighting skills.

#wild kratts oc #digital art #drawing #wanted au #apocalipsis au #xverse au #trottamundoss au #space au #wild school au #if y'all don't get why i named wanted one is inspired by sleeping beauty princess Briar rose #star wars reference #forgive me im not a super fan #i've seen mandalorian and half of clone but that it #please don't mind the little flaws in the picture #tw: drinking #tw: gruesome digitals #tw: explosions #tw: blood #tw: scars #tw: cursing #tw: alcohol

[kiwisbell]

Red Light [landlord!joel miller]

The men you keep bringing home are no good for you. It's up to your landlord Joel to protect you from heartbreak. 

my masterlist!

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings: AU - no outbreak/modern day, obsessive!joel, dark!joel, but also soft!joel, landlord!joel, violence, death, murder, stalking, jealousy, truly creepy behaviour, unprotected sex (lead by example; just not mine), creampie, dubious consent, reader’s serious lack of self-preservation, sexual tension, abuse of power, spanking, spitting, squirting, praise kink, degradation kink, joel is a munch, somnophilia, possessive behaviour, dirty talk, a smidgen of gaslighting, the general filth you should expect from me by now, a spoonful of genuine intimate connection™️, implied age gap, submissive reader, dominant joel, daddy kink, knives, mild torture, light anal play, voyeurism, unreliable narration, inappropriate use of a necklace, panty sniffing, ambiguous(?) ending

word count: ~ 15.8k (uh, oops!)

read on ao3!

hello, all! this fic has been tossing and turning inside the proverbial sheets of my head for a while now. when i tell you it's darker than anything i've written, i mean it, so please, please mind the tags. this story does not depict a healthy relationship; joel is a total creep and both he and reader are heavily delusional. with that said, please enjoy this (super long) one-shot!! xoxo

PREFACE

Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires. — Macbeth, I.IV

~

THE TENANT

You're beginning to think it’s a built-in bad luck charm. A microchip implanted in your skin or a flaw you have yet to pick out. Every single one of your prospective boyfriends has disappeared off the face of the Earth since you moved into town. 

It isn't you. It's not. There is nothing wrong with you. It isn't your fault that either they decide after one date that you aren't worth seeing again, or they stand you up before the date can even begin. Your profile pictures are decent. You followed the rules meticulously: a shot of your face, a group picture to show you have friends, a selfie, a candid. You've examined them time and time again for flaws and find none that a man would care about. You're pretty. Sexy. Confident. They're just intimidated. Fuck, you're turning into your mother.

And yet—

Since moving into this apartment—this beautiful, once-in-a-lifetime deal of an apartment—your luck with dating has abruptly ended. 

It's a lovely building. A stout brownstone with wrought-iron stairs and an old, but functional, elevator, it's traditional and charming. Perfect for a single woman. 

Six months. This is your first second date in six months. David is just fine. He's handsome in a frat-initiate kind of way, with a nice smile and a good sense of dress. He doesn't ask many questions about you, and he's a little pretentious about films you don't give a shit about, but he likes you. You didn't have a horrible time on the first date: he wasn't afraid to spend his money on you at the nice restaurant. And he has a car. 

Raised as an optimist, you learned to see the good parts of a situation. David can work out. 

On the way out of the elevator, you spot your landlord Joel speaking to the concierge. You instinctively smooth down your hair and wave at him as you walk by, shrugging your purse onto your shoulder. “Hi, Joel. Hi, Sam.”

Sam the concierge waves back, but Joel puts his back to the conversation and gives you his full attention, bracing his hands on the edge of the desk. Your heart leaps and your head goes fuzzy with nerves. You barely manage to force a giddy giggle back down your throat. Relief coats your bones when Sam excuses himself to take a call.

Joel Miller’s an older guy, his tousled dark hair threaded with silver on his head and in his beard. One look at him and a person could know that he works with his hands for a living; he’s broad-shouldered, strong, with big arms and a capable air about him. He’s proven his mettle a hundred times over already with the miniscule repairs he’s made to the building. He turned it into a good place to live; he even trims the hedges outside and polishes the doorknobs when they get rusty. 

He’s wearing a green T-shirt today, which is another member of the typical summertime circulation of blue and grey T-shirts, and a pair of jeans. “Evening,” he says, his rich brown eyes sparkling. Sometimes, you can see him smile when his mouth isn’t showing it. It’s charming. Enthralling. “How’s that new lock workin’ out for you?”

You grin. He remembered. Joel installed a new deadbolt on your door last week, since the chain on the last one broke. “It’s perfect,” you tell him. “Are you in a chocolate or lemon mood this time?”

His gaze flickers down your body, taking in your yellow dress, before meeting yours again. “Lemon,” he says.

You bite the inside of your cheek. Talking to a handsome man feels like tossing your heart in the air and trying to juggle. Flirting with a handsome man is like toeing a tightrope between two mountains and forcing yourself not to look down. Your stomach swoops with the path of his eyes over your body, and you cannot convince yourself that you imagined it. “Lemon squares it is. Thank you again, Joel.”

“Just my job to keep my tenants safe,” he says, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. You can see a pair of keys in his pocket along with his cell phone. The mere sight of his belt makes your cheeks hot. Why are you looking at his belt? You’re going on a date with another man, for God’s sake. Relax.

“Helps when I like my tenants so much,” adds Joel, and you forget why you were scolding yourself in the first place. 

“Yeah?” You tilt your head to the side. “Maybe you should be baking for them, instead.”

Joel steps away from the desk, working his jaw as he seems to fight down a smile. “It’s for the best this way, believe me. Can’t cook for shit.”

“Big, strong man like you can’t work a stove?” you tease. Don’t look down. 

“I only fix ‘em.” There’s a crooked smile on his face now, and your heart beats your ribs to shrapnel. “You look real nice. Goin’ somewhere?”

That simple validation calms your nerves more effectively than a half-hour of repeating affirmations into the mirror before leaving your apartment. You give the skirt of your sundress a little swish. “A date, actually,” you say, feeling sheepish. Your landlord certainly doesn’t need to hear about your track record as of late. “He’s taking me to Sunfest, in the park.”

A minute twitch of his brow is the only reaction he gives to the news. “That so?” he says. “Lucky man.”

“More like lucky me,” you say with a small laugh, tucking your hair behind your ear. Stop talking, you plead to yourself. Too much information. Shut up, kindly excuse yourself, and leave. 

Joel shakes his head, and now is the first time you notice that his eyes haven’t once left you. It warms your body. “He’s the lucky one. Trust me.”

“Okay. I concede.” You chew on your lip for a moment and, sure enough, his gaze hones in on your mouth. The air in the lobby crackles white-hot. You clear your throat, turning your head to find David’s car parked on the street outside. “I should go. But I promise I’ll get started on those lemon squares soon.”

It’s a possibility that you only imagine Joel’s eyes flitting from the car outside back to you when you turn your head back to face him. “Do me a favour?” he says, a scrape to his deep drawl. 

“Anything, Joel.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “Be safe,” he says. “You have my number if anything goes wrong.”

You give him a grateful smile. “I’ll be safe, Joel. And if I’m not, you’re the first person I’ll call.”

“Good. That’s…” He trails off, still watching you, his eyes trained in their path across your face. “You’re good. Smart, beautiful, good. You deserve to have somethin’ real.”

The simple, small praises melt your bone marrow and recast it in the shape of him. The old chandelier hanging from the ceiling casts him in a soft light, stark against the hard muscles and profound depths in his eyes. He's breathtaking. You've always known it, but…

He sees something in you, too. 

David honks his horn and makes you jump out of your stupor. You walk backwards out of the lobby just to keep looking at Joel for as long as you can. “For the record,” you say, “you’re a good man, Joel.”

“Don’t be so sure, honey,” he replies, his tone playful. 

You laugh, hurrying out to David’s car as the door closes behind you. 

“This place is beautiful,” you said to Sam, the concierge working the front desk of your prospective apartment. The appropriate paperwork was in your arms, your eyes scanning every inch of the old building. Of all the places you'd seen in and around the neighbourhood, this was the most promising. You hoped to get a glimpse at a unit before you signed, though. Assuming the landlord even wanted you to live here. 

Sam smiled at you. “Lots of people just see the cracks.”

“There's so much character,” you replied, admiring the crystal chandelier. The walls were a calming, aged white, the floors genuine hardwood. The lobby was decorated with plush chairs upholstered with burnt orange fabric, the corners filled with real potted plants. 

The door opened behind you, and you turned to see a handsome stranger, dressed in a pair of dirty jeans and mud-caked shirt, wiping his forehead with his forearm. Behind you, Sam said, “This is Joel Miller. The landlord.”

“Oh!” You were flustered, floundering to stretch out your hand to shake as you introduced yourself. “I’m sorry to catch you at a bad time. This building is gorgeous. You've done a great job with it, Mr. Miller.”

The landlord did not once look at Sam, his eyes fixed solely on you as he wiped a hand on the cloth slung over his shoulder and shook your hand. His hand engulfed yours, warm and rough. The touch jolted you like an electric shock. Your hands must have been clammy and shaking with nerves, but the contact steeled you. 

The intensity of his gaze, however, made you shift on your feet. He didn't waver, didn't stray, like a man set on a mission. Nothing about him was shy. He drank in the sight of you, indulging without shame, his eyes travelling to the next destination once they'd had their fill. It made you feel stripped to the bone.

“It's nice to meet you,” he said. “Sorry for the dirt. Just finished weeding.”

You shook your head in dismissal. “You really take care of this place.”

“It's good work,” he said plainly. “Serves me well. I like gettin’ my hands dirty, fixin’ things.”

“Where were you when my sink broke every week at my old place?”

“Fixing the sinks in this one.”

You laughed. “Well, for what it's worth, the outside is beautiful, too. Not a weed in sight.”

“Pleased to hear it,” said Joel, his dark eyes glittering under the chandelier. 

“You're from Texas!” you said suddenly. Oh, God, kill me now. I sound like a stalker. 

But Joel smiled, a raspy laugh leaving his mouth. You wondered if he laughed often. He looked like a serious man. “You familiar?” 

“I was born there,” you supplied. “Left when I was young, but my dad lived there all his life.”

“Lookin’ good on you already,” he said. “It’ll be nice havin’ another one of us around.”

“Does that mean you're considering me?” you couldn't help but ask. Fuck, you wanted this apartment. 

“I've already considered,” said Joel, his eyes sweeping your body. “You're the only applicant.”

Your hands were trembling and your heart thrummed with excitement. “Oh, God, thank you!” you gasped. “Joel, thank you.”

You could swear his chest swelled a bit at your graciousness. “I can show you the unit, if you’d like. It needs some TLC, but I’m happy to help with the process as best I can. Unless you have someone to…”

You realised what he was hinting at and shook your head. “Oh, no, it’s just me. I’d love to take a look.”

You noted the slight drop of his shoulders and followed him into the elevator. A part of you was surprised to see there was no gate that closed you in; they were plain, somewhat modern elevator doors. “Fixed it last month,” Joel said, looking sideways at you. “Just in time, apparently.”

You grinned at him, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Nice to see there's no creepy operator in here.”

“Just me.” He punched the button for the third floor and rode with you to the top. 

This was the start of your new life. 

You shut the passenger’s side door and situate yourself inside David’s Lincoln. He’s dressed in a pair of black shorts and a clean Henley. “Hey, beautiful,” he says, leaning in to kiss you across the console. 

You hum, smiling against his mouth. “You clean up nice, too.”

He places a hand on your thigh and pulls away from the curb. He's a touchy person, which is perfectly fine considering how long your latest dry spell has lasted, but at least he isn't inching his way up your dress to cop a feel while he drives. 

The festival is bustling with people, tented stands, and the smell of fried dough and beer. It’s almost dinnertime, and your stomach growls. When was the last time you ate? You spent hours agonising over what to wear until you were sweating and had to shower all over again. You wish you’d snuck an apple into your purse. 

David pulls you into him as you both walk through the winding paths between vendors. “It’s a beautiful night,” you say breezily. 

David squeezes your waist. “Mmm. You’re beautiful.”

A bit too corny for your taste, but you let it slide. “Don't tell me you're allergic to powdered sugar, because I’ve been eyeing the elephant ears.”

“God, if I eat that shit, I think it’ll set me back a month at the gym,” he laughs. “Let’s get one for you, though.”

Great. Now you're the expensive date who eats while her date watches her stuff her mouth with an elephant ear. “Uh. Maybe later.” 

You stop at a jewellery vendor and spend a good while eyeing up a beautiful gold necklace and the heart-shaped pendant dangling from it. David doesn’t notice your staring and breezes by with your hand firmly in his. “Let's check out the grand stand. My buddy’s band is playing before the fireworks display.”

“Sure,” you say, turning your head to watch the necklace disappear slowly from view. 

The gigantic domed stage houses a group of musicians currently tuning up their instruments. David sidles right up to the front and releases your hand to execute an elaborate handshake with his friend, who’s fine-tuning his bass. 

“Hey, man,” greets the bass player. “Good to see you. Who’s this?”

You open your mouth to introduce yourself, stretching your hand out, but David says, “My date for tonight. Baby, this is Ray, of Uncontrolled Bleeding fame.”

The bass player shakes your hand politely. “Very nice to meet you.” 

Because it doesn’t seem to matter much to David, you decide it’s worth the time to tell Ray your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Ray. I’m excited to hear you play.”

Not that you've ever heard of a band called Uncontrolled Bleeding. Still, Ray seems nice enough, and you're on a date. You should give them a chance. 

David squeezes your waist and kisses you lightly on the temple. “You mind if I go backstage for a bit to say hi to the other guys? Won’t be long.”

What?

“Oh!” you manage to eke out over the great swooping nosedive your heart has just performed. He’s here to see his friends. He’s not on a date. “Of course. Take your time. I’ll just… walk around.”

David departs with Ray for a personal backstage tour while you bite down on your tongue and turn back in the direction of the main strip. A few vendors catch your attention, and you take your time because God knows David is taking his. A little bit of you revels in your own petty victory when, a half-hour later, Uncontrolled Bleeding begins to blare their metallic, screaming anthems across the park and you haven’t returned to the grand stand. 

You find your way back to the jewellery vendor to ponder over your favourite necklace some more, but your night gets worse when you find that it’s disappeared from the headless display mannequin. You solemnly slide your wallet back into your bag and pause when you hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” It’s David’s voice, presumably, though it’s so loud on the other end of the line that you can barely make out his words. “I can’t… where… left?”

You plug one ear and look vaguely in the direction of the grand stand across the park. “I can’t hear you very well, David.”

“… afterparty… downtown… going… Uber home?”

You press your lips together and look down at the ground: at your pretty sandals, your new dress. Your entirely wasted potential on a guy who wanted you to find your own way home. “Yeah, David,” you say tightly. You don’t particularly care if he can hear you. “You have fun with your friends.”

“Can’t hear… talk later… okay?”

You hang up and wander back toward the vendor selling elephant ears. 

~

“Miller.”

“Hi, Joel.”

“Honey, it’s loud. Can barely hear you. Are you safe?”

“I’m safe, Joel, I promise. It’s just—Uncontrolled Bleeding.”

“What?”

“No, I mean, the band. They’re really loud. I hate to ask, and I know it’s late, but—”

“What do you need?”

“I, uh… I need a ride home. I can’t get a cab, and all the Ubers around are taken, and the busses are rerouted all the way—”

“I’m comin’ to get you. You just wait for me at the entrance, okay, baby girl?”

“Thank you, Joel.”

“You know I said you could call me for anything. I meant it.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Oh! Wait—”

“What? What is it?”

“Do you want an elephant ear?”

~

Joel is white-knuckling the steering wheel when he arrives to pick you up. Despite the congestion around the festival grounds and the fact that your apartment is at least fifteen minutes away, Joel makes it to you in a mere five.

“Did you blow every red light to get here, Mr. Miller?” you ask with a playful smile as you secure your seatbelt and settle on the truck bench.

“I was in the area,” he says with a crooked smile, looking your way. “May have pushed forty a couple times, though.”

You sheepishly extend a cardboard takeout box filled with fried, powdered dough. “Will you take this as my sincere thanks, or will you expect a separate batch of lemon squares?”

Joel answers by dipping his head and taking a bite of the flattened, doughy bread. You watch every minute movement, his strong jaw working as he chews, indulging you even though he’s already done far too much to get you out of this rut. He doesn’t once break eye contact while he eats; you begin to chew subconsciously on your bottom lip.

“Ain’t bad,” he declares at last, and your shoulders deflate with a kind of relief, “but if you let me take you for some real dinner, I’ll forget about that extra batch.”

You tentatively reach for his mouth and swipe some powdered sugar from his moustache with the pad of your thumb. You feel his eyes scanning your face all the while. “Look at me, the lucky girl,” you say softly. “One date goes wrong, and there’s a strong, handsome man waiting to take me on another.”

From the very first day, Joel Miller has always taken his time when it comes to looking at you. It’s a penetrative stare that makes your skin heat up from the tips of your ears down to your chest. His eyes are so dark, pools of warm melted sugar, and you feel yourself leaning, trancelike, slow, into that cavernous gaze. Your body is not your own. It seeks the subtle warmth, the familiar scent—sawdust, coffee beans, rich, dark cologne—and the violent torrent of sensation that erupts from the contact point when he cups your cheek in one hand. 

You’re in the throes of attention, warm as a candle weeping fat waxen tears.

“Told you before,” says Joel, his thumb sweeping fondly across your chin, “you deserve somethin’ real.”

“Yeah,” you sigh happily, feeling all-too complacent under the touch of his rough palm, “maybe I do.”

Behind you, a car honks its horn, and Joel curses, pulling away from the curb. He takes you to Turner’s, a bar by campus that would be crawling with students if it weren’t for the festival. Joel comes around to the passenger’s door and opens it for you, helping you hop out with your hand enclosed in his. His palm is a steady weight on your back as you both walk inside the dim, stuffy bar. 

The back is bustling with activity—drunk folks playing pool or watching the Huskies’ football game or splitting their attention between both—but the bar itself has enough spaces open to fit the two of you. Here, the light is burnt orange, and it makes the strands of grey in his hair shimmer gold. His eyes observe his surroundings with a military precision before they flit back to you, magnetic.

“Shame to waste this dress on that asshole,” says Joel, sweeping his gaze down, back up, barely perceptible. “You’re too goddamn pretty for any of ‘em.”

You’re deliciously abuzz with the incisive way he compliments you. It feels like being punctured down to your very soul; you will never forget the shape of the stain his words leave. “Do you spy on all my dates, Joel?”

He smirks. “Don’t need to spy on ‘em, baby. They’re a bunch of obnoxious kids.”

You huff, resting your cheek against your palm. “I just don’t get it. I thought David was just fine. Then, he takes me on a date just to abandon me for his friends and tell me to find my own way home.”

Joel shakes his head, scoffing as he runs his fingers through his beard. He does that when he’s frustrated sometimes, and you wonder if his hair is soft or coarse. “Piece of shit doesn't know how good he got it.”

“You must know something I don’t,” you say mirthlessly, watching the bartender approach from the other end of the long honey-oak block. “I haven't been able to get a second date since I moved in.”

Joel is silent, eyes still firmly fixed to you, until the bartender arrives, a charming middle-aged woman with a particular Texan twang you could recognise from a mile away. “What’ll it be, Joel?” she asks, giving him a sweet dimpled smile. “Hi, honey. This old man botherin’ you?”

“Only in a nice way,” you reply, squeezing his shoulder. 

Joel hides his grin with a swipe of his fingers over his bottom lip. “Coffee for me, Rina. Drivin’ home.”

Rina’s eyes slide to you, and you ask for the same. You don't want to drink alone. She reappears moments later with two small, chipped mugs of dark roast in her hands. Setting them in front of you, she takes your food orders: a BLT for Joel and a veggie burger for yourself. It’s almost ten o’clock now, too late to eat, but your eyes droop sleepily and your stomach growls for a taste of real food. The powdered dough, shockingly, did not suffice. 

“You ever miss Texas?” Joel asks once you're halfway into your respective meals. You notice that he only digs into his sandwich when you aren't eating, and abstains briefly to watch while you take your bites. It's an exchange of energy, a steady vigil by your side, the hypnotic pull of his warm body. You cannot scoot any closer to him, but your leg brushes his where you rest your foot on his barstool. 

“I wish I remembered more of it,” you tell him. “I grew up a big city girl. Even lost my accent a year into being away. My dad would tease me about it all the time. Said I’d been gentrified.” You fondly shake your head. “Miss him like hell.”

“I can still hear it sometimes,” says Joel, tilting his head to the side, “when you get all passionate about somethin’. Like the time I installed your deadbolt and you tried to explain away your Backstreet Boys CD.”

You put your head in your hands. “Oh, God. I thought you'd forgotten.”

“Nuh-uh, baby, you ain't easy to forget. And I like when you get excited. You get this look in your eye.”

“Yeah?” You slide your foot up his ankle and bring the leg of his jeans with it. Up, down, you keep going, letting the relative darkness embolden you, his sweet little pet names and his silent adequacy enabling what is most definitely inappropriate behaviour. “Tell me about this look, Joel.”

He rests his elbow up on the bar and squares his broad shoulders to you. They eclipse all the other patrons behind him. “You've got pretty eyes,” he tells you. “First thing I noticed when I met you all those months ago. Saw how they lit up when you smiled. Heard your happiness when you told me about Texas. It was nice to be the reason you smiled, ‘n’ I just wanted to make it happen again. I couldn't say no to you. Don't know how any man ever could.”

The revelation stuns you in your seat. His expression telegraphs little save for his attentiveness, his posture locked parallel with yours, singularly focused on the way you react to him. 

You try for a joke. “And I was the only applicant.”

It crumbles, sand in your mouth. Something has shifted. Joel isn't the type to shy away from a conversation, but his gaze hasn't once shifted from your face. It feels like flames licking your cheeks, the heat of that look pushing in on both sides, inescapable. You find that you enjoy the way his attention makes you preen; you want him to look at you. 

He thinks you have pretty eyes. 

“You know that ain't the reason why,” he says, whisper-quiet and gruff amid the vague chatter in the bar. 

“Why, Joel?” you ask, spine straightening, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. As you suspected, his eyes flick down your face, lashes obscuring the precise shade of his irises. 

His Adam’s apple dips. “‘Cause I like you,” he says, the feeling of it like the slide of suede down your spine, “and I wanna keep you safe.”

You shrug slightly, giving him a smile. “I feel pretty safe.”

Joel’s hand drops to the bar top and his fingertips brush yours. The touch jolts your sleepy mind awake. “You're too good for every single one of those assholes you bring around. You know that, right?”

“I’m beginning to understand.” 

“You deserve someone who's gonna be good to you. Give you all the attention you need. Make you… happy.”

You swallow thickly, the candle flame pressing in, sucking the oxygen from your lungs. “Thank you, Joel.”

His fingers begin to creep up every ridge of your knuckles, slowly turning over your palm so it faces the ceiling. The rough pad of his thumb traces the long lifeline inside. 

“Repeat it.”

His eyes lift to yours, and for a moment, there’s something in them that ignites an instinct inside you to flee. There's danger in those eyes: the careful, measured restraint of a man who knows more anger than he lets show. A flicker, brief but incandescent, passes through your head, an electrical current. 

He’s the reason you never had a second date. 

It disappears the instant it comes, the Paterian glimpse of an idea in its entirety fleeing for the horizon, and the instinct recedes in favour of the warm, melting sensation his fingers disseminate through your bones. 

“I deserve someone who will be good to me,” you repeat, like a mantra. “I deserve someone who’s going to make me happy, and keep me safe.”

“That's right,” says Joel, brushing his thumb along the veins in your wrist. You feel the shiver, but you're locked to him, your eyes unable to take in any information apart from the way he feels, looks, smells. “You're a good girl, baby.”

Your lashes flutter and a sweeping rush of pressure descends on your core at the way those words sound on his tongue. You picture him directing you to your knees and calling you a good girl while you take his big cock between your lips, imagine the way he would hiss through his teeth, good fuckin’ girl, that’s it, baby girl, while he fucks you from behind, merciless. Hands and tongues and limbs would mould into one another, amalgamate, becoming indistinguishable. 

He would be good to you. You know it. He’s always been good to you. 

“Joel?” 

“Hmm.” Fingers still make idle patterns on your forearm. 

“I think you should take a look at my sink when you get a chance. It might be broken.”

No amount of coy suggestion could make him ignorant to your desire for closeness. You can feel your body screaming for it, grasping at him with buffed claws. Joel smirks, looking down at your foot making a path up and down his ankle. 

“I’ll take a look tomorrow.”

~

It’s two o’clock in the morning when a shuffling outside your bedroom door guides you out of a decent sleep. In total silence, the most minute noises can be deafening. But it sounds, to your sleep-addled brain, like the hasty retreat of footsteps. 

You blink awake, shifting onto your other side to peer above the darkness of your doorway. Through the bleary haze in your eyes, you notice a tiny red light in the upper corner of the room.  

You squint, rubbing your eyes furiously to pry them open wide, but your vision is the static grain of an old television, and your eyes refuse to adjust. Instead, you grumble, pulling your comforter over your head, and go back to sleep. 

You’ll tell Joel tomorrow.

THE LANDLORD

He cannot wait until the morning.

The nighttime, he discovered long ago, is a friend. It’s the gentle descent of darkness, the horizontal fall of the golden-hour sunlight scanning the entirety of the apartment before it at last succumbs to silent, tar-black night. Occasionally, a car will pass below, or the honk of a horn will tear jaggedly through the quiet, but most times, Joel can sink comfortably into the dark and assume his post.

Six months ago, he showed some restraint. 

Of course, the connection was instantaneous—the pretty girl standing in his foyer with a radiant smile on her face, drinking in the chipped paint and ancient railings and furniture imprinted with years of use, arrested all movement of his heart. You wore a white dress and a pair of strappy sandals, not suited whatsoever for walking the city but perfectly tailored to make an impression. You arrived punctually, all smiles and handshakes and Southern politeness despite your insistence that you'd left it all behind. You shone. And when Joel slid his rough, work-worn hand into yours, dipping his gaze to watch the way he dwarfed your fingers, he felt a tremor roll gently from your body to his, thunder over a mountain. He wanted to chase the next lightning strike. 

It began leisurely, like a hobby, something he could go to when life got a little much. He watched you come home, examining the way your shoulders rounded slightly when you were upset and the way you wiggled your fingers in a wave to those passing by when you were happy. He watched, typically from the garden out front, as you pranced about your balcony on cool mornings to the electronic croonings of Britney Spears, curled up in a chair with a blanket over your legs and a coffee mug warming your hands, or watered your thriving plants from where they hung in the direct morning sunlight. Your day-to-day became his day-to-day. 

And then, he was doing more than merely watching. He was following. 

Your favourite coffee place by the apartment building, just a block away. He lingered far behind that first morning, his fingers twitching in your direction before the rest of his body steered him. The neighbourhood wasn't so great back then, prone to muggings and the like. He wanted to keep you safe. That was all.

You ordered something cold, too sweet for his tastes, and sat for a while as you worked. The barista spent the rest of your time there eyeing you up whenever he could. Joel scoffed. He wouldn't know what the fuck to do with you. Just a goddamn kid. 

He followed you to work and back, on those rare days he wasn't occupied maintaining the grounds. You sat in a corner cubicle with a decent amount of sunlight and typed away on your laptop all day. Joel monitored the company’s publications just so he could have a glimpse of the way you wrote; he wasn't interested in makeup, but he bought a subscription to Viva because he wanted to trace his fingers over your name in those small italic letters. MANAGING EDITOR. 

Your writing is clean, efficient, and smooth. It reads like velvet. He keeps a pile of magazines and newsletters tucked in the back of his bookshelf. For the August edition, they printed your interview with a local prizewinning novelist; you beamed in the picture, photographed in your favourite coffee shop, so happy and so generous, sharing your talent with others. 

He was so fucking proud. 

Five months ago, he watched you bring a date home for the first time. 

It blindsided him. He could not prepare, plan, or sabotage. He could not do a thing as you guided the man—a fucking kid with a too-big ego, grinning smugly for his imminent conquest—inside the elevator. Joel could only watch helplessly, wiping his brow from his precarious place on the ladder, as you walked past him with no more than a soft, sweet smile. He never forgot the painful imprint of that smile on his eyelids. It still burns his eyes late at night, when he stays awake inside his office, monitoring his dual screens. He will pinch the bridge of his nose and close his eyes just to replay the memory of that look. 

The kid left the next morning, before you woke. He never contacted you again. You trudged into the lobby that day, a weariness in your eyes that did not match the vibrant colour of your dress. You spoke idly to another woman in the elevator about your broken thermostat, hugging yourself to keep warm. 

It was working perfectly a few hours later, and there was a bouquet of roses waiting for you at the concierge’s desk. Fiddling with the red ribbon, tears welling in your eyes, you asked who the admirer was. Sam shrugged his shoulders, but when you turned to look out the front windows, you saw Joel tending to the red roses in the garden bed. 

It earned him the first taste of your baking. Biting into one of those moist, warm brownies felt like melting a little piece of you down and moulding it into the shape of his mouth. It felt like taking a piece of the girl he’d coveted for weeks and rolling it over his tongue, keeping it. Swallowing it down. There it rested inside his stomach until the next time he did you right. 

He wanted to tell you no. To insist that he would do anything to make you feel good even if you wanted nothing to do with him. To make it clear that he did everything for you, not for some feeble professional relationship between a landlord and his tenant. He breathed you. He needed you. 

So, four months ago, he began to watch you through the cameras.

They’re small, discreet, tucked into holes in the wall that have been spackled over, repainted, re-sanded. He ran the wiring while you were at work, listening to your CDs on loop to get a better sense of the earworms you hummed on your way out the door every morning. One in the living room, one by the entrance, and one in the bedroom. 

He could keep you safe this way. This way, he would know if those men you brought you home were treating you right—fucking you like you deserved. 

You were so goddamn pretty when you came. For months Joel had sat in his office, slicked-up cock in his hand, jerking himself hard and fast to the pictures of you in Viva. For months he’d spilled over his fingers, on his belly, on the glossy pages of the magazines. The heady, cloying scent of his own sweat and cum stuck to his nostrils. It wasn’t enough. He could imagine wrenching open your tight little pussy all he wanted—the slow, heavy drag of his cock between your hot, wet walls and the sweet noises he’d steal from your tongue—but it wasn’t the satisfaction he needed. 

Joel needed you. Your body, your smile, your voice. He needed to wrap you tight around every vein, a tourniquet, squeezing until all feeling was lost.

You would be his, in time. He just needed to make it so.

The first time he watched you pleasure yourself, rain pattered gently against the window panes and thunder echoed in the distance. A couple grids had already lost power, and Joel had a backup generator if the apartment was next, but you did not seem to mind one bit that the storm drew closer. You clicked off the television, retired to the confines of your bed and its soft white linens, and slipped your hand beneath your flimsy shorts. Joel sat upright, his back creaking in protest, his knuckles white around the edge of his desk as he watched, unblinking, the way your fingers gently circled your clit. 

He didn't touch his cock once that night, no matter how deeply his own need tugged at him. He couldn't look away from the camera feed for fear that he may miss the moment you reached your orgasm. 

When it arrived, it was delicious to watch. Your back arched, your lips parted, and your eyes fluttered shut, fingers rapidly rubbing your slick pussy as you seized under your own ministrations and slowly settled, melting into the mattress. He needed to see more. He needed to be there. 

You were a chiaroscuro of savoury, sultry magnetism and the ichor of the morning sunlight. You were kind and thoughtful. You were gentle, patient, attentive. You were one hell of a baker. You were so fucking sexy it made his tongue prickle with the prospective taste, the anticipation of touching your soft skin engulfing any sense. Reason had no place in Joel Miller’s mind when it came to the sweet girl upstairs. 

Three months ago, you had recovered from the evident betrayal inherent in expecting more from your date than a one-night stand. The next man was older, a partner at a law firm, and took you to dinner at a nice restaurant. He asked questions about you and reciprocated your enthusiasm for good cuisine. He was kind and treated you well. But an incendiary rage ignited in Joel at the sight of the bastard’s hand on your lower back. Another man was touching you. Another man was getting close to you, making you smile, whispering in your ear. Another man was attempting to claim what was rightfully his. 

Joel followed your date home that night instead. He lived in a high-rise downtown, the sort of building that had a doorman and a valet. 

Joel followed him down to the underground lot with a lead pipe in hand. 

“‘scuse me.”

He shut his car door and turned around, giving Joel a polite smile. “What can I do for you?”

A calculated sheepish scratch on the back of his head. “Just… ah, shit, I don’t mean to bother, but my engine isn't turnin' over and my phone died. Mind if I used yours?”

He patted his pockets for his cell and gave it enthusiastically. Joel did not take the phone. He used the proximity to pull the man close and bring the pipe down across his head. 

Blood bloomed, pretty and potent and rich as the roses he planted for you. The body made little noise, the skull shattered upon impact, the legs crumpling. It could never have been much of a man, going down so fucking quick. Should've put up a fight. 

The man must not have liked you very much to let himself die. Joel, whose eyelids were tattooed with your radiant smile, would have crawled his way back out of a certain grave. Joel loved you. You belonged to him. This was a necessary consequence. 

The pipe was dented by the time he was finished. Joel sank to his knees once the body fell, bringing it down again and again, the meticulous arc of the rusted metal uniquely stirring. It felt so fucking good, battering the skull to pieces, blood and brain and bone fragments accumulating on the ground and the pipe and his face. It felt good knowing he had kept another man from betraying you, hurting you, fucking you only to leave in a blur. He was being altruistic. He was becoming a good man for you. 

Joel, kneeling in the pool of warm blood until his jeans were soaked crimson, rubbed his hand down his face and smeared the blood across it. Chest heaving, he let the grin stretch his face. 

He had found his calling. 

Two months ago, he slipped inside your apartment while you were asleep.

You had a rough day. Your boss insisted the company could not afford to give you a raise despite skyrocketing share prices and all the fucking work you’d done for them. The rain started just before you left the building, holding back tears, and a car splashed icy, muddy water on you during your walk home. Salt in the wound. You were sniffling as you let yourself into the apartment, your hands trembling with the effort of shouldering your bag and your misery. Joel approached you from behind and lifted the bag onto his shoulder. 

“Hi, Joel.” Sad and soft and still so polite despite it all. 

“Hey.” He opened every door for you on the way to the elevator and rode it up with you for good measure. “Wanna talk about it?”

You just shook your head and sidled up next to him, your cheek resting on his shoulder. He held his breath, overcome with the sensation that if he moved an inch, the spell would break, and the comfort you sought from him would slip between your fingers. Your arm brushed his, your dewy lashes fluttering as you finally let yourself relax. Joel inhaled, and the scent of you cleaved him down the middle: rain and perfume. 

“Would you give me a raise?”

He looked down at you and smiled. “For a batch of those cupcakes, I’d give you whatever you like.”

It was a half-truth. He’d give you whatever you wanted, cupcakes or no. The sound of your laughter dripped into his bloodstream, saline. It cleansed him of the wrongs he'd committed. He was doing what needed to be done. The world had to realise it turned for you, and then all would be right. 

Hours later, when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, shrouded by distant skyscrapers, he sneaked his way inside. His master key made easy work of the lock, but he had to pull the chain lock off with a pair of pliers because his hands could not reach between the gap. He made clinical work of it and stepped inside. 

There was a chair in the corner of your bedroom for days you felt like reading by the window. Joel lowered himself into it and began his vigil. 

It was a science to study the way you slept. He began to learn the patterns of your breathing, the minute movements of your limbs and how they translated to the moods of your dreaming. The amount of times you turned around, groaned, or hummed correlated directly to the sort of day you'd had. He began to map your tells in his head, drawing them out, formulating blueprints of the simple things that made you. 

To Joel, it was like connecting a red string between thumb tacks, like pouring the varnish over a finished painting, sealing a promise, closing an envelope. He enjoyed the satisfactory slotting of each puzzle piece into place, creating your image, finally knowing you.

By then, he’d caught the virus. He’d let himself get close, and now he was infected with it—that insatiable need to be near, to watch, to admire from mere feet away. 

He continued to acquaint himself over the weeks with your sleeping self to supplement the time he could not spend with you while you were awake. On more than one occasion, he got careless, letting himself succumb to sleep in that corner chair, joining you in the dream world. In those dreams, you were wrapped up in his body, warm and soft and tight, and he was taking. He was behind you, on top of you, beneath you, forcing you to look in the mirror as he spread you open on his cock and wrapped his fingers around your throat. In those dreams, your eyes rolled back and your lips moulded to the shape of Joel, yes, oh my God, and he'd whisper back to you—my sweet girl, my good fuckin’ girl, all mine. 

And you were. You were his. 

Tonight, he followed you to the festival. 

He watched you make a beeline for the necklace you wanted only to pout when you saw it had disappeared. He watched your face fall as David’s rejection sank bone-deep. He reeled in his own gnawing rage, pushing deep down that urge to storm right in and rip out the asshole’s throat with his goddamn teeth, and waited until you called him. 

He knew you would. You trusted him. You needed him. You needed a strong, capable man to take care of you the way you deserved. So he waited inside his truck by the phone, happy to at last hear your sweet voice on the other end of the line. 

Thank you, Joel. 

He tucked those words under his ribs, letting them flower and spread. Those words gave him purpose, made him buzz with erratic energy, validated all his actions. He was doing everything right. 

Your dress was so fucking pretty. Jesus, he wanted to slip his hands under the hem, finger the waistband of those pink panties he knew you were wearing, and bunch the fabric up around your hips as he stuffed you full of his dick. Fuck, he would fill you up with his cum and tuck your panties back over your abused pussy, keeping all of him safe inside. You’d be so happy. You’d get drunk off his cock, begging for it, crying for it. He’d give you everything. 

You do feel safe with him. You said it yourself. 

Now, leaning against the doorway in your bedroom, Joel turns the heart-shaped pendant over and over in his palm, rubbing his thumb over the smooth gold surface. It’s cool and quaint and will kiss your skin beautifully. But he needs to wait for the right time. He needs to make sure you’re ready. 

The sense memory of your fingers on his skin, gracious and gentle, the way you always are, is pushing at the edges of his control. 

There's no one like you. He’s never been more certain of anything. 

You're so goddamn sweet in those tiny silk pyjamas, your body curled up on the bed and your leg slung over a large pillow. You may feel cold and lonely at night, but that's only for now. He won't let you feel alone much longer; his body calls to you, singing your name. He has only so much restraint, and he's been waiting for six months. 

Your lips are slightly parted, your face smooth and serene under the spell of sleep. You're the reason he fixes what's broken. The world needs to be better for you. It needs to be safe and bright and perfect. 

He planted tulips today. You’ll appreciate them, he thinks. He wants you to wake up to vibrant colours every morning and go to sleep knowing that he thinks about you. 

You shift slightly in your sleep, a soft moan leaving your mouth as you hug the pillow closer. Joel straightens in the doorway, wondering if your mind can sense him nearby. He doesn't know what he would do with himself if you were dreaming about him. His eyes move from your pretty face down your chest, barely concealed by the tiny top you're wearing, to find the apex of your thighs, temptingly spread on the mattress. 

He won't. He can't. You’ll never trust him if he loses himself to desire. Joel grits his teeth, his cock achingly hard in his jeans, and unbuckles his belt as silently as he can. He pulls out his dick and squeezes himself at the base, staving off what he knows will be a too-fast orgasm. You move again, your body stretching out on the bed. Joel spits into his palm and begins to stroke his cock. 

He can see a sliver of your waist where your shirt rides up, half of your ass where your leg is slung over the pillow, and your tits smushed together just over the hem of that scrap of a top. You're all of his fucking fantasies rolled into one. Joel breathes hard through his nostrils, his fist tight around the tip of his cock. 

He wants to shuck down those little shorts and put his face in your pretty pussy. He wants to grab your hips and guide his cock inside you. He wants to slide into your addictive cunt until you forget your name. Until you forget every name but his. Your soul will be stained with him. His has never forgotten your shape.

God, your tight pussy would feel so fucking good around his cock. He jerks himself roughly, bracing his hand against the doorframe when a little whimper leaves your mouth. Fuck, he mouths, gritting his teeth so hard that his jaw begins to ache. He fucks his own fist, sloppy and unrefined, eyes fixed to your waiting pussy between creamy-soft thighs. His cock dwarfs your slit, eager to spread you open—he’ll fix so nicely once he gets you ready. 

Joel feels his stomach tighten, his balls pulling up, his jaw taut as he brings himself to a high over your body the way he has so many times. He switches so he can jerk off into the hand around which his gift to you is coiled, spilling his cum all over his fingers and the necklace as he bites into the heel of his palm. His spine decompresses and his cock slowly softens in his hand, the tension briefly relieved. His fist gradually loosens around the cum-slick necklace; the heart has imprinted its shape into his palm. 

You stir, turning over in your bed, and Joel hastily departs, tucking his cock back into his jeans. He has enjoyed this brief interlude, but he has work to do. 

Besides, he’ll see you in a few hours. He knows damn well the sink works just fine, but he’ll take any excuse to see you again. And it seems you’ll do the same. 

~

Joel keeps him in a spare apartment in the building, one whose walls have been padded for soundproofing. 

Joel’s sleeves are rolled to his elbows and he's occupying the chair across from David, who's taking his sweet fuckin’ time waking up. Joel’s been pacing for a half-hour, rubbing his fingers over his bottom lip, contemplative, but the bastard won't move. 

So Joel takes a seat, grabs a fistful of the kid’s hair, and yanks it forcefully so he’s staring him right in the face. 

One eye is already blackened—Joel got a little carried away. The sedative worked perfectly, but David has a punchable face. It took all he had not to keep going. 

“Mornin’, sunshine,” says Joel as the kid slowly blinks awake, bleary and unfocused. “Eyes on me, now. Don't want you slippin’ away again.”

David only stares for a moment, gears grinding gently to life in his brain Once that animal instinct kicks in, the kid starts writhing against his restraints, bucking hard in Joel’s unrelenting grip. It's useless, of course. He’s tied by the wrists and ankles. Helpless. 

Good. 

“What—why the fuck… let me fucking go, man, please,” groans the kid. 

“You made a mistake, David,” says Joel. “Think I’m gonna forget about that?”

David whimpers, flexing his hands subconsciously as pain undoubtedly prickles his scalp. Joel hasn't let go of his hair. “Please just let me go, man. I swear I didn't do anything. If you want money, I’ve got money.”

Joel smirks, a scoff slipping out. This is rich. The delectable flame licks up his throat again, indistinguishable from the pleasure of a good meal, a good fuck. It's craving. It’s darkness. He sinks deeper. 

“You think it's manly to leave your date for your friends and leave her to find a way home herself? You think it's funny to treat her like a little toy and then leave her when you're done?” Joel sneers. “You didn't even call her back, David.”

He whines out another please, his ankles ineffectually kicking out. “I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. Just let me go. Fuck, it hurts.”

“You don't know,” says Joel, repeating it, slow and savoury, rolling it around in his mouth. “You wanna know the most insulting part, David? You don't even care. You made her upset, and you didn't get on your goddamn knees to beg her forgiveness. You didn't do everything in your fuckin’ power to get her back.” Joel brings the knife from his pocket and idly pushes the tip into David’s cheek. “You think she ain't worth that, David? Tell me the truth, now.”

David shrieks, hysterical, the terror and pain so fucking delicious that Joel gulps it down and yet still wants. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? No bitch is fucking worth it. She was cute, but that's it, I swear. I didn't know she had a boyfriend. I wouldn't have—”

The knife digs, gouges, splitting skin and prodding muscle. Joel can feel the edge of the blade slot between the kid’s teeth. He howls, screaming for help to nobody that can help, not quite gone enough yet to realise his utter hopelessness. Joel will have to rectify that.

“Oh, I ain't her boyfriend yet,” Joel says calmly. “But I am hers, way she's mine. And you hurt what's mine. I can’t forget that.”

The knife retreats to admire its handiwork. The cheek is split, the edges jagged, spitting blood. The kid’s tears slip down his face and dip into the wound, salty enough to hurt. He screams and he cries and it’s beginning to get on Joel’s nerves.

“Please stop,” he cries, watching his assailant rear back and grip the knife tight, like an ice pick. “Please… fuck, please—!”

He’s getting real sick of that word. Please. A mere please can’t excuse the look he put on your face last night. A please will not absolve him of the cardinal sin. 

No one—no one—makes you frown. 

Joel sinks the knife into David’s knee, using both hands to drive it to the hilt. The kid’s face is ashen, white and grey as clouds rolling in, and his frail screams begin to peter out; he’s losing consciousness. Joel won’t have that—not until he’s finished.

“Stop whinin’, David. A real man falls in front of his woman and makes things right. A real man fixes what's broken. And a real man”—he twists the knife, gorging, glutting on the feeling of making amends on your behalf—“does everything in his power to show her he loves her.” 

“Please…” The final, feeble attempt of a doomed man to return from the cliff’s edge. 

Joel stands, adjusting his grip on the kid’s hair, and brings his knife just beneath his chin. When he drives it upward, he can see the shimmer of the blade through David’s slack, open mouth. 

“I told you to stop whinin’.” 

~

He’s in your bedroom again. 

He felt the need calling to him, vibrating with a particular intensity he could not ignore. He rarely comes to see you twice in one night, but now that he's here, he knows it was the only way to settle his nerves. 

You're asleep, lips parted against your pillow and a piece of hair fluttering in front of your face with every exhale. Joel approaches your bedside and tucks it safely behind your ear. You don't wake, but you hum sleepily, hugging your pillow closer. Joel smiles, satisfaction sinking deep and assured into his core. He's done right by you. You’ll go happily to him. Moth to a gemlike flame. 

He wanders around the edge of the bed, gaze lazily indulging in your body as he goes. His cock twitches again with a need he cannot yet meet, the desire to move your panties aside and fill you with him. He does not. He kneels at your bedside, closest to where your legs have scissored apart beneath your sheets. The temptingly sweet call of that warm place between your thighs has Joel shifting your comforter aside and ghosting his fingers across the soft skin of your calf. 

Your breathing deepens slightly, like you're sucking in a long mouthful of air, and then you settle. It's the only indication you give that you can feel his presence. And then it’s gone, and he’s hooking his fingers in the waistband of your pretty panties and bestowing upon himself what he's only seen through screens for months. 

You're spread open and glistening, an indication of some preceding dream or fantasy playing out in that keen, busy mind. Your body is wholly pliant, so soft and glowing in the faint silvery light streaming in from the window, and it would be so easy to—

No. He will not taste you. If he does, he won’t stop. You need to trust him. There is blood on his hands that hasn’t yet washed clean, and he will not imprint those rust-red fingerprints on your body. You’re his world—what kind of man willingly imparts such pain onto a world he loves?

Some infinitesimal fractal lodged in Joel’s head obliged him to return to you tonight, to cleanse himself of the events that transpired under the illicit cover of night. The very sight of you reminds him what he’s doing this for. He crushes his nose into the wet spot that darkens your panties and inhales deeply, acquiring some sense of what you will taste like. The smell makes his head go fuzzy, intoxicated, tang and sweetness and impending gratification. In your sleep, you sigh, melting against the mattress.

Joel brings your panties back up over your pussy and thinks, Tomorrow. 

THE TENANT

You're miserable when Joel knocks on your door the next day. 

“He hasn't called me,” you tell him, letting yourself stew, sulking from the feeling of yet another man deciding you weren’t worth a follow-up phone call. “Am I repulsive? Am I a total freak? Is it something in my perfume?”

Joel looks down at you, lips parted as if on the precipice of a response, sweeping his gaze up and down your body. You’re wearing a simple sweater and skirt, but fuck, he can make you feel naked. His gaze penetrates deeper than flesh. It’s only then you realise he’s holding coffee. 

Two cups of coffee. 

“Oh, Joel,” you sigh, licking your bottom lip. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” he says with a crooked smile, his voice a bit raspy, as if caught off-guard. He hands you your favourite drink—caramel macchiato, double espresso—from your favourite place down the block, and you could kiss him with how good it feels to hold the cool, condensation-slick cup in your hands. Your entire body deflates with the first sip. 

“You’re my hero,” you tell him. “I mean it.”

Joel shakes his head fondly. “You got a funny sense of heroics.”

“They taste exactly like this,” you say playfully, tracing the rim of the plastic cup. “Thank you, Joel.”

He swipes his thumb across your chin. “It’s only coffee, baby.”

Since last night, something is inexplicably different. A new, once-forbidden boundary has been crossed. It may be technically inappropriate for your landlord to bring you coffee, touch you so intimately, call you baby. But it makes you feel like warm melting honey, and who is to say a feeling like that is wrong?

He’s wearing a blue T-shirt today. His hair is tousled like he slept on it, and your fingers tingle with the anticipatory sensation of how it would feel to take fistfuls of his locks in your hands. He’s stunning. And you catch yourself staring too late, tearing your gaze away the way one retracts their hand after burning it on the stovetop. Your heart skittering, you direct Joel to the sink and plan some excuse in your head for why it has miraculously fixed itself overnight. 

But he doesn’t even spare a glance toward any of your appliances. He’s only looking at you. 

“I got somethin’ else,” he says, almost shy, reaching into his pocket for a tiny box. 

He grimaces when your eyes, wide and obviously panicked, meet his. “Jesus, I didn’t really think about how this looks. I’m not… proposin’, I swear.”

You both release a nervous laugh, but you cannot deny that your nerves are still fluttering at the sight of that simple suede box in his big hands.

He opens the lid and you gasp. It’s your necklace—the very same heart-shaped pendant you had been eyeing up at the festival. It’s shiny and polished and precisely, undeniably, the same one. “Oh my God,” you whisper, gently sliding your finger over the cool golden pendant. “It’s beautiful. Joel, how did you…”

“Turn around,” he says softly, the gentle direction guiding you better than any hand could. You obey, and Joel steps forward until his hard chest is flush to your back. He’s warm and sure and smells so good—cologne and coffee and mint and something potent, like iron—and all your questions fizzle to sparks in the air. You can no longer grasp for them. You reach out and you only find him.

His touch is careful. The heart-shaped pendant settles against your breastbone and shimmers in the afternoon light. Your chest briefly shimmers with the thought that you were made to wear this necklace. His large, rough hands ghost across the back of your neck as he secures the clasp, and you shiver. A single knuckle trails slowly down your spine, bumping every vertebrae on the way. 

“It ain't your perfume.” His deep, grumbling voice is equivalent to the scratch of his beard against your temple as his jaw moves with each word. “And you're nothin’ close to repulsive. Look in that mirror and tell me what you see.”

There is a mirror, a full-length one by the entrance to your apartment, and it's surreal to watch your own body turn to face it, to watch yourself defer entirely to the man behind you. It feels nice to just let him steer you every which way. 

“I see you,” you tell him, your hand lifting to the pendant on your throat. “And this.”

Joel clicks his tongue, his nose sliding up your temple. “What else do you see?”

You watch your lashes flutter, your head listing slightly to the side. “I see myself.”

“Hmm.” It’s a sound of approval, his palm now sliding around your waist and his arm banding across your body. He presses his hand to your hip bone and pulls you back against him. “Such a beautiful girl in that mirror. Ain't that right?”

“Joel, I…” You can feel his swelling erection prodding your ass and your head feels hazy with a heady, lustful desire you can no longer ignore or dismiss. “I don't think we should be…”

“No?” His mouth curves against your temple and you shiver at the coarse scratch of his moustache on your skin. It feels deliberate, premeditated. “I won’t tell a soul,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking your hip right where the hem of your sweater begins to inch upward. You can see a strip of your own bare stomach in the mirror. He’s making your eyes droop, your lashes flutter, your body light up from one nerve ending to the next, a closed circuit.

Oh, God. His touch is measured, gentle yet barely restrained. It is dipping a finger into the water just as it nears its boiling point. Months of staring and dreaming and retreating to your bed to touch yourself to thoughts of someone you cannot touch have led you here: his necklace, his gift to you, sitting prettily on your throat, his capable hands moulding you slowly to the shape of him. He’s touching you. 

“You like me?” His voice rubs hard on your ears, sanding you down, smoothing the rough edges. He lets you linger on the precipice, a firm grip on your hand, letting you make the choice: to let go, or to reel yourself in. 

“I like you,” you whisper, snapping the tether and plummeting to the warm, wet earth below.

You watch Joel’s eyes close in the mirror, something like a prayer falling from his lips. It does not take the shape of words—it is gruff and yet soft, hardly loud enough to discern over the ringing in your ears—but it’s so reverent that you can picture yourself falling to your knees at the sound of it. 

His hand skims up your waist until he finds your throat, gently pinching your jaw so he can direct the turn of your head. You go easily, tilting your gaze back to rest your temple on his shoulder, as his other hand slides up from your hip to your ribs, grazing the underside of your breast. “You like me enough to touch you like this?” 

You gasp, finding an anchor in the deep brown—nearly black, now—of his eyes. They’re warm  but they’re dangerous; once you look, the cage door slides shut, and you’re trapped. 

This must be one of your many dreams.

“Yes, Joel.”

“Mmm.” He smirks, teasing his tongue across his plush bottom lip. You watch the movement and feel yourself tightening, want want want a chorus in your ears. “You wanna kiss me, baby girl?”

Silently, you nod, your fingers gently sliding through his silky locks while your other hand seeks the strong balancing force of his shoulder. His smile sobers to a deep, stunning severity, and you cannot think to let it frighten you when you’re already slanting your mouth over his. 

It starts slowly. His mouth is soft, his hands deftly returning the fervour with which you hold him, cupping the back of your neck with his other hand warming your ribs. A small gasp escapes you, and a rumble of satisfaction passes from his chest through yours, and it flips an ineffable switch inside him. 

Joel turns you in his arms, his chest pressed to yours, his hand shooting out to brace against the wall as he walks you back toward it. Sufficiently cornered, you let your body melt into him, his palm now warming your lower back, his tongue feverishly seeking the seam of your lips. You let him pry you open, tasting the coffee and mint on his breath and inhaling the rich scent of him, sticking it with greedy hands to the walls of your brain. You’ll never tire of him, of this. 

He kisses you like a glutton seeking more fulfilment, like an aesthete seeking that exhilarating, fleeting moment in time, desperate and unwavering and famished. Tongues slide together, hands grope and wander, fabrics shift. You can feel your sweater lifting at the same time your fingers finally find the hem of his T-shirt, but he beats you to the chase. You’re dizzy by the time he breaks away to remove your shirt, but you dutifully lift your arms to help him. 

You seek his mouth again to resume the kiss, but Joel is decidedly feeling pious. He kisses his way down your throat, the necklace dangling from it, your sternum, your belly, sinking to his knees as he goes along. His hands are firm on your hips, squeezing, keeping you in place, while his mouth draws a map of you, eliciting the honeyed sensation of warm water dripping down your body.

“Oh, God,” you whisper, your head knocking back against the wall. It's so much. You've never been the object of attention quite like this, the marble statue at which the devout kneel, obsessive in their worship. You've never had a man fall to his knees to put his mouth all over you. 

Has he wanted you as long as you’ve pined for him? 

Joel grunts, his lips dragging open-mouthed kisses from one hip to another, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your skirt and yanking it down. You yelp, grasping his shoulders. 

Joel only growls into your skin, his hands dropping to your ass and kneading you while he continues down past your hips. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he grumbles. “So goddamn pretty. Don’t know how I waited this fuckin’ long. Jesus, baby girl, you're perfect. Goddamn perfect.”

His ramblings are poison. Every word infects, squeezing out your healthy cells, replacing them with the delicious scrape of fire against the ceiling of a room. The scratch of his beard. The sweet nurturing sound of his voice. The cared-for sensation of being kissed and touched and spoken to like you're someone worth a second date. Like you're worth the price of all the world and a couple stars, too. 

And so the words slip out, shy and whisper-quiet and your cheeks burning hot enough to blister. 

“Please, Daddy…”

Joel’s hands tighten on your body, a fractional movement that kicks up the frantic beating of your heart. He tilts his head back to gaze up into your eyes and you feel more naked with that single stare than ever before. 

“That what you need, sweet thing?” he says, pressing his lips to your inner thigh. “You need Daddy to make you feel good?”

“Mhm,” you whine, the pitch of your voice pathetic and needy. You watch him crush his nose into your inner thigh, nipping at your sensitive flesh, and his name leaves your mouth in a sob. 

“‘m gonna need words,” he commands, biting you again in reproach. “Talk to me, baby girl. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to make me come,” you plead, grasping his soft greying hair in your fingers. “Please.”

“You gonna call me what you wanna call me?” he prompts, smacking your thigh. “C’mon, baby, lemme hear it.”

“Daddy!” you cry out, your hand tightening in his locks. “Fuck, Daddy, please make me come.”

Joel growls, bringing your soaked panties down your legs. Your knees nearly knock together, but he’s shouldering his way between them, bringing one up onto his wide shoulder. You're spread open like this, bared plainly for your landlord to feast upon at his will. The sight of his lips parted, waiting and ready to take your pussy into his mouth, has you trembling. 

He gives a slow, experimental lick, sliding the flat of his tongue through your wet slit. You shudder, your head lolling against the wall. One teasing drag of his tongue and you’re butter, humming and whimpering for more, Daddy, please as he takes his fucking time tasting what you have to offer. 

“Goddamn sweet,” he grumbles, his blunt nails digging crescent moons into the flesh of your ass, pulling your body flush to him. “Waited so fuckin’ long for this.” You watch the fire ignite from red- to blue-hot in Joel’s eyes, his gaze shuttering as he loses himself, devoted entirely to the process of unravelling you. 

The next time he dips his tongue between your folds, he does it deliberately, calculated, as if he has already memorised your shape and now seeks to pry you open. He parts your lips to make way for his mouth, hot and soft against your clit. Softly, you cry out, watching as he presses a featherlight kiss to your pearl. You try to grind against his face, needing more, but a resounding slap to your ass stops you dead. 

“No takin’ what I don’t give,” he says. “You understand me?”

You pout, but you nod your head anyway. 

He decides it isn’t good enough and abruptly takes your clit between his teeth in a scolding bite. 

“Repeat. It.”

“I’ll only take what you give,” you tell him. “I’ll be good.”

Apparently satisfied, he hums, diving back in and finally—finally—sucks on your needy clit. “Oh!” He’s eager, sure, but he’s practised. He’s meticulous in the way he applies pressure to your clit, lapping at you greedily and pulling back to draw your pleasure into measured tidal waves. You crest only to recede from shore, and then his lips suction to you again, his hand snaking around to your front and pressing down on your lower belly. 

“Fuck!” you squeak, your stomach tightening as the dizzying pleasure overcomes you. “Joel, I’m gonna—!”

The orgasm pulls you under, drowning you with a forceful hand, your lungs sucking in mouthfuls of air. You seize, your heel digging into Joel’s muscled back, your fingers fisting his hair, your cunt clenching desperately around nothing, begging to be filled. Joel keeps his mouth on you all the while, licking you through your high, and you think it’s a benevolent act until your orgasm gently fades and he continues to make out with your pussy as if it never happened.

“Ah! Joel, please—” It’s so much. Too much; your pussy contracts relentlessly at the endless attention from his tongue, happily licking your clit and relishing the faint throbbing underneath it. It’s like he’s starved. His eyes are closed, his beard glistening with your wetness, his fingers dimpling your flesh as he pulls you right along to another high. 

Two thick fingers gather up the juices you’ve leaked onto your thighs and push them back into your hole, insistent in their desire to enter. You gasp, your heart in your fucking throat: “That’s only two?”

He chuckles, but the vibration only makes you jump, letting his fingers sink inside your cunt to the knuckle. “Oh, fuck, fuck, Daddy, that feels so good, please make me come again, I need it, please—!”

Joel groans into your pussy, curling his fingers toward him so they press against a spongy spot inside you that sends your head spinning, your mind folding in on itself. All you know is the next orgasm, the best way to get him to give it to you, the fastest way to reach that indelible place once more, just once more—

Joel’s hand applies more pressure to your belly, and you scream, clawing desperately at his shoulder as you give yourself over to something much, much stronger than an orgasm. It’s foreign, the creeping sensation of an invader taking up residence in your body. You cannot see, cannot hear. It assumes control, tearing a cry from your mouth and locking all your limbs tight and splashing your wetness all over Joel’s chin, beard, shirt. 

You think he only stops because you begin to list; he catches you around the hips and presses a soft kiss to your used little clit. “Mmmmm,” is vaguely how you manage to thank him, your eyes peeling slowly open. 

“I know, baby girl,” he says, stroking your hip bone with his thumb. He litters kisses all over your thighs, coaxing you through the minute twitching of your muscles as they relax. “You did so good for me, pretty girl. So fuckin’ beautiful. My sweet girl.”

You shiver in his grasp, watching as he makes his way back up your body. He swipes his forearm across his wet beard and you moan a little at the sight. “Nobody’s ever…”

Joel crowds you, his hand cupping the back of your neck so he can guide your gaze up to him. “That's what you don't understand, sweetheart,” he says. “You can try to find another man to make you happy, but he won't be me. I’m the only one who’s gonna treat you right.”

“Joel…” Sense begins to push at the edges of your brain, but you only slump further into his touch, letting him secure your hair behind your ear. “This isn't right,” you whisper. “I pay you every month to live here. People will know. People will talk about me.”

“People have suffered worse for a hell of a lot less.” 

You have no time to decode his words because he grabs your hand and presses your palm over his chest. Beneath the shirt and the warm, tanned skin, you feel a strong, rapid heartbeat, hammering away at his ribs. He maintains eye contact, the gaze incisive, peering right into the cluster of wiring inside your head that calls his name. “You feel my heart and you tell me this ain't real. You think this ain't love? You think it's obsession? Infatuation? Think I can’t see you lookin’ at me the way you do?”

His words pin you to the ground. They’re possessive, covetous—jealous. He wants you, and he knows you want him. All these months, he’s wanted you the way you’ve craved him; all the comforts and the roses and the baked goods in lieu of payment for substantial repair jobs; the times he’s let slide some late payments because I know it’s tough sometimes, the inexplicable kindnesses in your everyday. 

Joel Miller dedicated himself to you the second you arrived to see the prospective apartment. 

“You’re mine,” he says, his thumb stroking your jaw. “And I wanna hear you say it.”

People will call you a whore. They’ll think you’re pimping yourself out for cheaper rent. They’ll send you filthy looks. But the man in front of you makes you feel wanted. Desired. You’re better than all the dates that failed. You’re better than a shitty boss who won’t give you the raise you deserve. Joel is good to you. He’s always been.

“I’m yours, Joel Miller,” you say, resting your forehead against his. “Now please take me to bed.”

He grins, taking your hand and leading you to your bedroom. You get grabby straight away, fingering the hem of his shirt with a pleading look in your eye. You can still see the evidence of your orgasm staining the collar. “You can take it off, baby,” he says with that cocky smile, letting you lift the shirt over his head. In the sunlight, the grey in his hair shimmers, and his chest is bared to you. You lick your lips, placing your hands on his broad shoulders just to feel the way your palms contour to his dips and curves. 

You lean in and put your lips to his neck, tracing the shape of him down to the hollow of his throat, He tastes faintly of fresh air and sweat, and he smells like you. Your hands admire the warmth and strength underneath them, his body so tangible when only yesterday it was a distant dream. He lets you indulge, though his hands flex at his sides, and your fingers fumble with his belt buckle. 

“Help,” you mumble against his chest, bumping your nose into him. Joel chuckles, relieving you of your burden and shucking off his belt. It clinks along the floor somewhere nearby, and you can unbutton his jeans to bring them down, freeing his hard, throbbing cock. 

Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s thick and slightly curved, the tip leaking precum onto his belly, his balls heavy with the need to come. During those long nights after long days of work, you would imagine, for hours on end, what lingered just below his belt; the little trail of hair leading down his soft belly to your destination; the way his wide shoulders would bracket your body, shelter you from all the tough shit you could possibly suffer. You would picture all the ways you could thank him. You bite your bottom lip and ready yourself to sink to your knees, but Joel is having none of it. He attacks your mouth, kissing you deeply, his hands sliding up your back as if he's trying to count every vertebrae. He doesn't relent even when your knees hit the edge of the bed and you collapse backward onto the mattress. He only crawls over you and pins you beneath his hard body. 

“So pretty like this,” he says, lowering his head and nudging your chin upward with his nose to give himself better access to your throat. He sucks and nips at you all the way down, pausing at your heaving breasts. His fingers gently toy with one stiff nipple while his mouth occupies itself with the other, teasing it with his tongue and his teeth. You moan softly, content to watch him explore your body, squeezing your tits before he migrates downward. 

“Daddy,” you whisper, stroking his hair away from his face, your head falling back onto the pillows as his fingers part your folds once more. “Fuck, please, touch me. I need you inside me.”

Joel settles in between your open legs and takes his cock in his hand. You mewl for him, determined in the face of his big cock to fit it nicely inside you. “Mmm, you ready for me, baby girl? You need Daddy to fill you up, use you like a pretty little toy?” 

You’re nodding frantically, the words igniting you. “Please take me.”

Joel slaps the head of his cock against your clit, once, twice, watching your thighs twitch. Spreading the slick wetness from your pussy onto the tip, he finally guides himself to your hole and notches just inside. 

“Jesus,” he utters. “Jesus, you're a fuckin’ dream.”

“It’s real,” you pant, “I’m real.”

He begins to disappear inside you, wrenching you open, your poor pussy disused from going so long without decent sex. You feel the pinching pain give way to a delicious pressure in your core as he eases into you, taking it slow despite his taut jaw, his gritted teeth. Your cunt forms a tight seal around his length, your arousal lubricating his entry, and you feel lightheaded. He’s so fucking big—and he’s still going.

“Oh, my… Joel—”

“I know, baby.” He brings his thumb to your clit and helps you relax with every circular swipe. “I know what y’like.”

You keen up against him, your thighs squeezing his hips. He's only halfway inside you and it feels like being filled up to your throat, choking on the air you breathe. Your head falls back, your hands flying up to your tits and squeezing. 

“Daddy…”

One of Joel’s hands overlaps yours where it grasps your breast. “That’s my girl. You can take me. Always knew you could.” Still, he's panting with the exertion of holding back. 

“You thought about me?” you say coyly, trying to pull him deeper inside you. He obliges, if only because you're being so petulant, and his hips finally knock into yours. You release a bone-deep sigh of relief.

“All I do”—his hips thrust shallowly, baring his teeth as he paws at your thighs—“is think about you.”

You cry out at the angle, the depth he reaches, how thick and heavy he sits inside you. Your pussy sucks him in, begging for more, and Joel obliges by hooking his hand in the back of your knee and pushing your thigh toward your chest. 

Your vision whites, a ragged cry leaving your mouth. “Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, yes, that feels so good—”

“‘s right, baby girl. I’m the only one’s gonna fuck you this good,” Joel grits out, dragging his thick cock along your walls, spreading you open, forcing himself to fit. The head of his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust, measured in their intensity, just enough to drive you up the goddamn wall but never enough to sting. “I’m the only one you want.”

Your mouth is open and his pounding urges a steady rush of ah, ah, ahs up your throat. Joel leans over you and tilts your head back with a hand in your hair to slant his mouth over yours. He lets you pour your cries into his mouth and he swallows them down, fucking you so hard that your hips begin to ache. 

He smatters your jaw with sloppy kisses. You lift your hand to his face and trace the patches in his beard, your brows drawn together in your perpetual haze. 

“I dreamed about you,” you whisper, taking his earlobe between your teeth to make him growl against your skin. “Touched myself thinking about you.”

“I know,” he says, his hips grinding hard against yours, rubbing up against your used clit. He answers your gasp by nibbling your throat, and you keep him fixed to you with your hand at the back of his neck. His soft hair is matted with sweat and you want to bury yourself here, etch the shape of him into your stone. He's strong, capable, so present in this moment that your heart begins to throb to the beat of his. 

Joel surges upward and takes you with him, forcing you to sit on his lap. At this angle, his cock reaches deeper, somehow, your mouth falling open and your forehead dropping to his shoulder. His palm is a soothing presence on your sweaty back as he tells you things that make you flush from your chest to your ears. 

“Thought about takin’ you on the goddamn bar last night,” he grunts, guiding your ass in a rolling rhythm along his lap, his cock gliding slowly along your walls. You moan, your thighs shaking around his hips. “Thought about spreadin’ you over my desk and fuckin’ you dumb with my cock.” 

You sob into the crook of his neck, grinding down on his cock, the pressure of his navel against your clit sparking hot in your lower belly. “What else?” you ask, nipping at the strong muscle where his shoulder meets his neck. Your tits are pressed up against his chest, his warmth engulfing you, your body slowly lowering over him as he guides you the way he likes. 

His palm coasts down your spine until he finds your puckered asshole. His name is jagged and rubbed raw on your tongue. 

“Shhh, baby girl.” The pad of his finger teases your hole with just enough pressure to ooze electric ecstasy down your spine. “Feels good, doesn't it?”

Fuck, his voice is so gentle, so knowing. You curl your fingers in his hair, your nose tickled by the locks that curl over his ears. 

“Mmmhmm,” you mewl, lifting your hips as best you can despite the growing aches, telegraphing your desire to be touched by him—played with. 

“Thaaat’s it,” he coos, his nose nudging your cheek as he turns his head. His finger continues to prod your asshole while his hips buck up into you. “Openin’ up for me like a good girl. You’d let me take you wherever I want, hmm? Whenever I want?”

“Yes, Daddy, yes,” you moan, your mouth perpetually open against the skin of his neck. You can’t think. You can't breathe. You can only drink down mouthfuls of him and let your body succumb to the delicious weight of his cock inside you. “Yes, I’ll be your little slut. I’ll be whatever you want. You make me feel so good.”

He seems pleased with your babbling, grinning into your cheek as he keeps you spread wide and pounds up into you. His finger continues to tease your tight hole until he feels your body contract around him and apparently decides that he isn't quite through with you. 

“Turn around. Hands and knees.”

Who are you to refuse?

You lament the brief loss of his cock as you shift into your knees, resting your forearms on the bed and teasing him with a wiggle of your ass. Joel hums appreciatively, sidling up behind you and grinding his hard cock between your asscheeks. You jolt forward, but he catches you around the waist and warms his palm at your ribs. 

Something warm and wet lands in a glob on your asshole, and you realise he fucking spit on you. Your head spins, dizzied by your own arousal, and soon, the warm, wet head of his cock slips back inside your hole, and you relish the refuge of being taken by him all over again. 

“You wanna know what else?” He begins to fuck you hard and fast and almost angry in its intensity. His thrusts knock against your ribcage and rattle the bars, your heart floundering for a way back to the surface. “I thought about knockin’ on your door every goddamn day and putting my dick in this pretty fuckin’ pussy. Thought about your tight fuckin’ body every single time I saw you walk by and a long time after. I thought about the noises you'd make and Jesus, I was right. So goddamn sweet.”

You’re drooling onto the pillow, your eyes rolling back in your head, your fingers uselessly clasping handfuls of your white sheets. Joel is an animal, mounting you from behind and taking you hard, deep, the slick squelching noises of your coupling so crude and indecent that they burn through your ears like a lit fuse. It's wrong. You never should have kissed him. But wrong shouldn't feel like this. 

Wrong shouldn’t taste like mint and coffee, shouldn't smell like roses and sawdust. Wrong shouldn’t feel like his cock sitting snug inside your pussy, some obscene jigsaw, seeping saplike pleasure down your spine. 

This must be right. 

His hands are rapacious, one wrapping around your hair and the other guiding the bend of your back, arching you perfectly to fit him while he takes you the way he likes. “Such a tease in those pretty dresses. Such a prim and proper girl ‘til she gets the right dick. You’ll get on your knees for this dick, baby girl, won't you? You’ll beg for it like a goddamn whore.”

“I will!” you moan, your cheek pressed into the mattress. The force of his thrusts have you travelling up the bed in minuscule movements, his thighs slapping hard against yours. “Fuck, I will, Daddy! Please, Daddy, I wanna make you feel good, I’ll do anything.”

“You're doin’ such a good job already, sweet thing,” he says, using his leverage on your hair and your waist to yank you upright, his chest pressed to your back, your ass now firmly sat in his lap. You moan long and low at the new angle, your back arching and your toes curling. 

Joel groans against your jaw, his mouth travelling along the line of it in sloppy kisses that indicate he's about as close as you are. “Yeah, baby. Fuckin’ drunk on my cock. Fucked you good and dumb, hmm? Fucked you so good you can't even think.”

You can only manage a low whine, the sound of it a fleeting puff of air from your lips, the oxygen in your lungs depleting and replaced with the smell of him. You try to bounce on his dick—you really do try—but you cannot remember how to work the muscles in your thighs. You cannot remember what you had for breakfast nor the colour of the skirt you wore today. You can only vaguely understand the shape of the man behind you, the name that belongs to him, the way you curve and fit into him. You’re falling, the technicolour world outside your window fading to the sound of soft, beating wings—that may be your heart, fluttering in your ears—as you seize, yielding to the pleasure. 

You will not recall the sounds you make when you come, grasping blindly at his thighs to keep yourself from falling over, your ears ringing. You feel his moustache scratching your jaw and his cock working you through your high, slowing his thrusts to help you land softly on solid ground. You may cry out his name, and you may call him something else entirely. But it's vibrant. It's radiant as the sunlight now dipping behind the distant buildings. It tastes just as sweet as the golden hour. 

Joel does not stop fucking you when your body goes limp in his arms. No, he resumes his brutal pace, using you like a fucking toy to get himself off. You happily take it, your head lolling back against his shoulder and your eyes drooping. 

“Nnh, fuck… I’m gonna… Jesus—oh, fuck—”

His hips press flush to your ass and he nuzzles his face into your throat, depositing kisses and love bites all over your skin as he pumps shallowly into you, his hot cum filling you up and leaking generously around the seal of your cunt. You gasp, your fingers threading through his already-tousled hair, keeping him glued to you as he flexes against your body and comes hard enough to double himself over. 

He collapses on top of you, forcing you to bend at the hip, little puffs of air escaping his mouth and seeping into you. You whine, your sore hips battered and bruised, your pussy deliciously abused as you pulse continuously around his dick. “Joel, please…”

He comes slowly back into his body, his lips trailing down your spine as he lifts himself upright. “Shit. ‘m sorry, baby girl. You feel okay?”

You hum happily, letting yourself pant into the mattress. “Feels so good.”

Joel pulls out, savouring the tight drag of his cock out of your pussy, hissing through his teeth and watching his thick cum dribble slowly out of your hole. “Such a fuckin’ pretty sight. My sweet girl, all used up.”

You drop your face into your forearm and giggle. Joel smooths his hand over your lower back. “What's so funny?”

“Just…” You sound a bit hysterical as you continue to laugh. “I’m going to be late on rent this month. I put a down payment on a car.”

Joel lowers himself next to you and gently pulls you into him, his moustache tickling your cheek. “Planning on gettin’ the hell outta dodge?” he says playfully, nipping your earlobe. 

Your eyes droop and you sink into him. “Think I’ll stay here for a while.”

“I know you will, baby,” he murmurs.

“Joel?”

“Hmm.”

“Thank you for the necklace.”

~

It’s night when you next wake, and Joel is next to you. 

For someone so stern and strong, he looks utterly serene in his sleep. His lips are slightly parted, half his face pressed into the pillow, his hair curling around his ears and his arm lazily draped over you. You gently sweep a lock of hair away from his face. 

Through the dark, the red light beams, and the arm around your waist tugs you closer.

THE END.

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #dark!joel x reader #dark!joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #tlou hbo

[chlorinecake]

HELLO

Please PLEASE make a fic about the songs church- chase Atlantic!!

It's my latest obsession, next to enha ofc

leading you on | l.hs

♱ plot: from the shy boy you first met at church camp who your parents once adored to their biggest fuckboy nightmare, you and heeseung reconnect on an online platform where you became a popular streaming duo together, leading to some steamy (and eventually forbidden) connections between you two…

loser!streamer!heeseung x fem!streamer!reader

♱ contains: SLOW BURN, swearing, sneaking out, mentions of bulges (multiple times), oral and fingering (f. r.), slight corruption kink, y/n stripping in front of a large audience (on camera), unprotected sex + virginity loss, y/n deliberately disobeying her parents, angst-ish, ft. other kpop idols, roughly 7k words

a/n: this is my first time writing a one shot all about Heeseung so hopefully I did our favorite loser boy some justice in this fic... have fun reading!

Heeseung. He was always just so... flirty with you.

Not emotionally, that is, but physically.

Leaving lingering touches on your thigh during Bible study, whispering dangerously close to your ear in that bedroom voice of his, or texting you random pictures during the day with his bulge obvious in almost every single one.

Two little voices battled in the back of your mind whenever you were around him, one voice wanting him to take things further while the other found it strange how he did such things so shamelessly.

The boy's got sex written all over him, your friends would warn alongside your Christ-converted step-sister Giselle who'd had her fair share of 'guys like Heeseung' in the past.

But you didn't see him that way. Despite his flirty tendencies, you figured those were just attributes that made him who he is.

Who you've always loved him to be.

However, those Holy, Holy, God Almighty church days were long gone by now, being no more than a distant ninth grade memory to you and most of everyone else who attended back then.

Everyone except Lee Heeseung, who could never shake his adolescent infatuation with you... ____, the girl who accepted his flaws and eventually stole his heart.

You and Heeseung reconnected a few years later by chance, the same day of your one year anniversary on your streaming channel.

Initially, your content consisted of one-hour long broadcasts where you'd just talk with random strangers, hearing out their problems and giving righteous advice.

However, Heeseung became a recurrent visitor on your streams, coaxing you to speak on topics more interesting than whether its modest to wear glam makeup or if kissing should be saved for marriage.

Your channel amassed a whopping 20,000 new followers in the first month of Heesung partnering with you, and its part of what led him to becoming an anticipated guest to your growing fanbase.

A dynamic duo, some commenters would call you two... and much to your parents chagrin, at that.

Off camera, things were the same.

You and Heeseung had grown closer than ever, sacrificing sleep to text each other all night, doing fuck-all on your web streams for hours, and even considering meeting up in person for a broadcast after he shared with you that he still lived in the city.

But then... something changed.

Or more accurately, your overly controlling mother put her foot down.

|Messaging| 💬

Heeseung: So we're not allowed to hang out together this Friday ?

You: Not alone... and honestly, not on the streams anymore, either...

Heeseung: Don't tell me its bc ur shyyyy

You: Nope… pArEnTs ^^

You'd say your mom had it out to get Heeseung more than your dad ever did, resenting the mere mentioning of his name at weekly church gatherings.

"That daughter of yours has gained quite the audience on social media," one womann would say, "too bad she seems to be losing her Faith to that poor Heeseung boy..."

"Such a shame," another would agree, adding to the heat-bubbles boiling in your mother's blood-

"Our faith teaches forgiveness and kindness," you defended yourself, just as your mom gave you maybe her third lecture this week on why you should cut ties with him.

"It also advises caution and wisdom when it comes to who we allow into our social circles," she hummed back, taking a sip of her morning coffee, red lipstick staining the rim of the white mug, "I'd be no better than a fool to sit here and support this meaningless friendship between you and that... man."

You internally rolled your eyes at her words, thinking of something, anything to say in order to change the subject right now.

"Well, I have plans with some friends from church tonight, if you don't mind-"

"Will Heeseung be there?"

"What? No," you lied, and not for the first time, either.

It helped you to feel less guilt whenever you blamed it on the little voice in your head, "Just me and the girls," you clarified.

"Mhm," she smiled facetiously before continuing, "I'm afraid I still can't trust you to go, though... especially not after that little stunt you pulled online..."

Your hand halted at the kitchen countertop as her words settled in your mind, "What stunt?"

FLASHBACK

It all started with a picture.

A stupid picture you got dared to leak by an anonymous tipper who offered a $1,000 donation in exchange for a steamy photo of Heeseung.

Chelbear03: God, he looks so THICK

Chelsea, one of your viewers said in the streaming chat, practically moaning at the photo of Heeseung, biting her lip as if she could feel him inside her just by looking at the screen.

Chelbear03: PAINFUL 😩

pucca_princxss: Need a tissue for your drool, Sea-Sea? 🧻

Danielle, another fan joked.

Chelbear03: Okay, FIRST of all, I have drool coming from TWO holes rn- Secondly, I'd rather just have him lick it up 😔

Chelsea typed back, a nuance to her words that you couldn't tell was meant to be either comical or serious.

"Lick up what?" a curious voice asked from the screen.

That's when your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes going wide at the sight of Heeseung coming back into frame after saying he'd be "afk for a bit while showering."

His hair was still a bit damp from what you could tell, a towel draped lazily around his neck as your eyes unfortunately fell to the lump hiding behind his pants.

Oh God-

"N-nothing! Uhm... it's not important," you chuckled dryly, only adding to the awkwardness everyone was starting to feel from behind their screens.

pucca_princxss: OOP speak of the papi-

Chelbear03: Please forgive me, Hee-man 🧎‍♀️ ... bc I am disrespectfully foaming at the mouth as we speak-

Chelbear03 has left the stream

A notification of Chelsea having left the stream popped up in the chat almost immediately after she sent that message.

"What was that all about?," Heeseung smirked with confusion, looking between both you and the server comments displayed on his screen for an answer that never came.

"Fine then, keep your secrets... its not like I can't just rewind the stream highlights anyway," he added, just as you felt frantic emotions overcome you.

"Heeseung, you really don't wanna do that, just let me explain-"

His jaw dropped, not necessarily in shock, but with intrigue, the raunchy photo of his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants being displayed on the screen, right before his glossy deer-like eyes.

The same picture he'd only ever sent to you.

"I guess this is my mini Drake moment then," Heeseung chuckled to himself, a heavy sigh escaping your lips at his fortunately chill reaction.

"I did it for 1k, Heeseung, I'm sorry," you whined, pulling your knees up in your chair before burying your face behind them.

"Don't be... everyone already knows I'm your slut at this point," he said in a deeper voice, making you freeze once again as your eyes shot up to view the screen, almost in denial that such words even left his mouth.

anonymous tipper: worst thousand $$$ I ever spent... how abt I multiply the price by two for a sexy picture of the lady ?

yxstar3ject: ooo, but i was thinking maybe a double feature instead ? would luvvv to see how she treats this little slut of hers 🤭

Heeseung snickered so loud, you almost felt it on your skin, watching his facial expressions change with each suspicious message that filled the chat box, throughly entertaining him

"Guys, cut it out before I end the stream," you giggled shyly, revealing your full face that looked a little less flustered than earlier, "Heeseung isn't my slut either, okay? Just a good friend, I swear..."

pucca_princxss: you two need to stream in the same room one day bc this long distance sexual tension thing is so not the vibe :|

"Maybe one day..." Heeseung's voice faded off as he turned off the lights in his room, getting ready for bed...

"Maybe~~," your mother repeated in a mocking tone at the memory of your "filthy fest" of a stream that day, disgust displayed all over her before she took the last sip of her coffee as if it'd soothe her.

"Hope that refreshed your memory sweetie, but either way, my answer's no. Not with that slut on the streets and especially not without my supervision..."

“If you’re referring to Heeseung with that vulgar comment, I’m sorry to correct you, but it’s not right to just bash him with words like that,” you went on, leaning your elbows over the counter.

“Please, any guy who sends raunchy dick pics, let alone to a girl he’s not even dating, is a slut, ____,” your step-sister Giselle voiced while walking into the kitchen, dressed in athletic wear as she filled up her water canteen with a lemon flavored electrolyte packet, “not to mention those other weird things he says about your relationship on the stream.”

Despite how much your family claimed to dislike Heeseung, they had no problem with bringing him up every five seconds in a conversation.

You glanced at her through a side eye, shaking your head at the fact that she was just eavesdropping on your conversation, “That was hardly a dick pic, and you should know that better than me, Jizz-elle,” you retorted, putting extra emphasis on the first syllable of her old nickname.

“Yeah, real mature, ____… you can slut shame me but not your little online boyfriend?”

“Ladies!,” your mother raised her voice slightly, pursing her lips at the tension built up between you two, “that’s enough of this discussion…”

You noticed the way your mother’s eyes lingered on your step sister for a moment, “And where do you think you’re going?”

“To the gym,” she answered shortly, walking past your mom and out of the kitchen with haste.

You scoffed out loud, “Not gonna interrogate her like you did to me?,” you said, laughing as if humored when it was really just a way to mask how irritated you were.

“No,” your mom said with a delayed reply, “Giselle is not my blood… I must take her word for what she says to avoid conflict with your step-father… you, on the other hand, will—”

“—abide by your rules… got it,” you finished for her, knowing better than to continue going back and forth with her in this matter.

You left the kitchen, going up to your room and plopping yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling as you entered into a deep thinking space.

One in which you'd strategize on how to successfully sneak out of the house to hang out with Heeseung tonight.

|Messaging| 💬

You: So, you want me to meet you where again ?

Heeseung: Just take a hard right past the first stop sign from your place and a few steps past that one brown house (pls ignore my Dora ass instructions rn 🗿)

You: ok ok 😭, smart tho !! … that way, none of my neighbors will see your car :D

Heeseung: Exactly. U sure u still wanna do this, tho ?

You: Yeah, ofc ! Had enough of my mom nagging me all day ☝️ I need a release BIG time

Heeseung: Haha, okay then ! I’ll see you at 10:30pm

You: Cya ! 🐒

THE LAST TIME you and Heeseung met in person was back when you were both young teenagers, navigating hormones and puberty while aiming to keep God at the center of it all, so to speak.

You didn’t know what to expect from meeting up with him, and especially not under such circumstances.

Still, you had a pretty good feeling that all this trouble wouldn’t be for nothing.

It was currently 10:34pm as you turned off all the lights in your bedroom, wearing an all black outfit to ensure you weren’t seen.

You double checked to see if you had everything with you before leaving: phone, spare cash, and a well-rehearsed story in case you got caught.

Opening your bedroom window, you stuck out a leg, suddenly feeling thankful for your step-dad giving you the bedroom on the first story of his home.

Both your feet were on the floor now, your hands finding the window sill as you closed the window back, careful not to accidentally lock it back so you would be able to get back in later.

You then followed the instructions Heeseung outlined in your texts, walking a few blocks down and taking a right turn once you reached the stop sign.

That’s when you caught sight of his dimly lit side profile under the lights of his car and through the tinted windows.

His eyes were on his phone until your figure blocked the streetlight that shined in his car, drawing his attention to your face as a smile spread over his own.

His eyes lit up like you were the candle to his soul, stepping out of the sleek black car to come around and give you a hug.

“Oh- hi,” you chuckled shyly, hands hesitating to wrap around him before he pulled away, looking you up and down while bracing your shoulders.

“Hi,” he smiled back, “I was just about to text you when you showed up at my window… nice black fit, by the way.”

“Thanks,” you said in a playful voice, watching as he opened the car door for you to get in.

“Would it be wrong of me to assume your panties match, too?,” he asked teasingly, joining you in the vehicle before pulling out of his parked position and cruising out of the neighborhood.

“Wow, you’re really representing this slut persona of yours, huh?” You teased back, putting on your seatbelt.

“Mostly because I can’t help it,” he shrugged, flashing you a smile before looking back at the road, “the fans ship us anyway, so we might as well commit to it, right?”

“Righttt,” you answered suspiciously, poking his thigh before looking back out the window, “gosh, this is crazy…”

“What is?”

“How long we’ve known each other and still happened to maintain a solid friendship despite the distance.”

“Yea,” he agreed, turning down a lane decorated with flowers that somehow still shined in the dark of the night, “We’d be fools to give up this bond we share, though… fools not to explore it further.”

He pulled into his driveway a few minutes later, showing you around his place before leading you to his bedroom, a familiar sight to you thanks to the streams.

“Oh- you’ve still got your monitors and mic set up?,” you asked curiously, noticing how the screen of his computer was on the streaming website.

“You remember what Danielle said on our last live? About us broadcasting in the same room together sometime…” he started shyly, pushing out another gaming chair for you to sit in.

“You really think it’s a good idea to stream right now?,” you rationalized, watching as he joined you in the nearby seat, “I mean, I’m obviously down for it, but what if my mom sees it again? Or Gisel—”

“I’ve already blocked your mom's account, ____, we should be fine,” he smiled, “and… if not… I’ll exchange another photo with your anonymous tipper for some forgiveness cash,” he shrugged, pouty lips making you melt a little inside. "Deal?"

You always knew that Heeseung was cute, but you didn’t think it was possible for him to get any better looking from behind the screen.

“Okay then,” you agreed with a sigh, hoping that your nerves would calm down once the broadcast started.

Almost instantly, 100 viewers joined when Heeseung pressed the “stream” button.

You both began with greeting everyone, trying to get past the chat’s excitement about finally getting to see you two in the same room together.

yxstar3ject: OMFG YALL ACTUALLY DID IT ❗️ this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤧

Chelbear03: holy fucking fuck, how is she so CALM NEXT TO HIM 😩

mrloverl0ver: everyone in favor of them playing truth or strip for us, spam the chat with W’s

pucca_princxss: hoon, you raging perv- WWWWWWWWWW XD

Chelbear03: ✨ W ✨

laylaspapi: W no homo wait, why's my name pink now ;-;

yxstar3ject: I took orange the other day ~ sawwy Jakey W <3

You watched as the chat box started to flood with W's and other random comments, feeling Heeseung sat a hand on your thigh as if to make you feel more comfortable.

"Alright peeps, chill out with the chat spamming, we see it," Heeseung said, laughing off some of the tension, "It's not like you guys didn't get a free show the other day, anyways," he added.

"I don't know..." you started, voice and logic trailing off as more letter W's filled the screen, "it might be fun?"

"____," Heeseung said more seriously this time, "it's a pointless game, y'know? We're honest with the fans... they already know most of secrets, so its silly to do truth or strip..."

"Great. That'll only make it more challenging for them to get our clothes off then," you smiled, suddenly feeling excited about playing, a bit of your competitiveness rubbing off on the initially cautious boy.

"Fine then... we'll do it," Heeseund said, eliciting a few viewers to send gifts to your broadcast, "I'm gonna need a drink for this first, though."

Heeseung was doing a good job of making it seem like he wasn't totally down for this, even though on the inside, he was mostly concerned with making sure you felt comfortable, too.

He left the room for a moment before coming back with two canned cocktails in his grip, placing them on his desk in front of you two.

"I'm guessing you don't drink much," he said, popping open a can of sugary fizz with his teeth while making eye contact with you, "so take it slow with this, yeah?"

"Sure, dad," you joked, taking a sip from the can, hoping that the alcohol would maintain your fleeting confidence, considering that you'd just agreed to strip in front of hundreds of people online.

Chelbear03: alr, first question heheh, starting easy !! :))) when was the last time you got upset and why

Chelsea was the first to initiate this little "truth or strip" questionnaire. Heeseung read the question out loud before humming to himself in thought.

“Hmm... maybe when I overcooked my ramen this morning?”

"Who eats ramen for breakfast?" You asked with a dry laugh.

"Don't judge me because I have good taste, ____," he replied, shoving your thigh with his knee a bit, "and you're dodging the question..."

"Oh- right," you chuckled shyly, thinking of what to say and whether to be honest, until you remembered the consequence would be to remove a piece of clothing.

“It was um... over some stupid things my stepsister was saying about a friend of mine… also this morning...”

"Does that friend so happen to be me by any chance?," Heeseung asked knowingly, giving you a look that you quickly brushed off.

"Moving on, next question!"

anonymous tipper: name the last person you hooked up with $100 donation on the line here, btw... plus someone's modesty 🙈

Oh God, you thought to yourself, dreading how this anonymous tipper knew you'd do almost anything for money.

It was really a bad trait of yours...

"Wow, just jumping to the extremes, aren't we?," Heeseung mumbled between a sip of his drink, the wet condensation drawing your attention to his glistening digits for a quick second.

How were you just now noticing how thick his fingers ar-

laylaspapi: uh oh someone looks nervous ...

pucca_princxss: mission accomplished 👹👹👹

In all honesty, you didn't really have an answer to that question, but to avoid coming off as prudish, you opted to take a pair of clothing off instead, lifting your hips in your seat to pull your pants down.

"____, what the-" Heeseung started before choking a bit on his drink, not just at your sudden boldness, but at the sight of your lace panties hugging the natural curves of your hips, pants getting bunched up at your ankles before you kicked them off under his desk.

yxstar3ject: 😭😭😭😭 DEFINITELY wasn't expecting that, oml-

Chelbear03: your turn, hee 🙏🙏🙏

Something about how frazzled your usually calm and collected best friend became at the simple act of you undressing before him gave you a feeling of exhilaration.

By now, your top barely covered the flesh of your thighs, a few commenters saying things about "wanting to take a bite" before Heeseung cleared his throat, hoping that they'd stop making things worse for him.

"Well uh, I'm not willing to strip a layer just yet, plus I could use the $100, so I'll be honest..."

The chat stalled momentarily as if everyone watching paused in eager anticipation of who and what Heeseung was going to say.

"It's been a while, I'll admit," he chuckled dryly, staring off as if envisioning it behind his sparkly eyes, "but it was around a year and a half ago... with a girl I'd rather not name, but she was a bit older than me..."

"Oh?," you accidentally said out loud, a strange feeling of happiness washing over you now that you knew he hadn't been with any girl since you two met reconnected. You're not sure why this information made you happy... or maybe you're just not ready to admit how you truly feel about him to yourself yet...

"How'd you two meet? Wait- why am I even asking that," you cringed at your own inevitable curiosity, Heeseung taking delight in how his timidness somehow rubbed back off onto you.

"Nah, it's okay... I'm sure the viewers wouldn't mind a little storytime-"

He adjusted his posture in the chair, eyes scanning a few new comments before he spoke, "I met her during my bad boy stage, I guess you could say... we bonded over the fact that we were both born in October until we eventually started smoking together at a friends house of mine every now and then... she and I were both going through some divorce drama with our parents and uh... we thought fucking would be a good emotional outlet? I don't know, maybe it was more of a distraction, I guess..."

Heeseung didn't expect himself to ramble the way he did, but he wanted you to know the main details, even though he left out a few parts for another time and conversation.

Chelbear03: what would it take for me to be that girl ? just for one night 😔

maindancertypeshit: pretty sure Hee just confirmed he's into older girls, Chels ... and ones with daddy issues at that-

You nearly snorted at the sudden comment, up until you realized who the last one came from.

"Excuse me, but what the hell is a toddler doing on this stream?" Heeseung asked sarcastically, obviously referring to Niki.

pucca_princxss: LMAO, looking for his mommy ofc 🤱 (😏)

maindancertypeshit: ayo, wtf??? so dani's allowed but I'm not?? hmph >:{

maindancertypeshit has left the stream

You sighed while laughing slightly, taking a sip of the drink as water droplets now dripped unto your thighs, Heeseung's eyes doing a terrible job of not staring.

"I say we do one more round before ending the stream," you offered, looking at the time as you knew you'd wanna spend more private time with Heeseung before having to run back home.

yxstar3ject: BOOOOOOOO :(

Chelbear03: im too pressed abt riki rn to give a damn bro did NAWT have to dish me the truth like that 😭😭

mrloverl0ver: ok ok, let's make this last question worth it then hmmm ...

Sunghoon typed in thought, just as the bulb in Heeseungs side lamp suddenly shattered, the loss of light coupled with it's piercing sound making you jolt in your seat, half of your canned cocktail spilling on your shirt and chest.

"Shit," Heeseung swore under his breath, happy that none of your drink or any glass from the lightbulb got on his streaming equipment.

That's when he noticed you shivering a bit, the cold liquid contrastingly with the warmth of your body.

"C-can you grab me a towel please?," you asked softly, Heeseung taking the can from your grasp and leaving the room with haste to grab a damp and dry cloth for you.

"Here," he offered when he came back, hooking his hands at the hem of your top and pulling it over your head in one swift movement, making you gasp out loud.

You were now half-naked in front of your best friend, not to mention the tons of people watching from their digital screens.

"Heeseung, what're you-"

He was now taking off his own shirt, holding it in one hand while he wiped your chest down with the cloths he held in the other.

There was something about the way his eyes looked while wiping down your boobs, coming off as romantic despite the awkward nature of the situation.

"Put this on," he whispered so quietly you almost missed it, snaking your head through the head hole of his T-shirt while he flicked the ceiling light on, your mind running in a hundred different directions in this moment.

You're not sure if it had something to do with the alcohol, but your skin still tingled in the spots where his fingertips grazed your flesh... just like old times...

You don't think you ever put on a T-shirt faster in your life, wanting to cover up as fast as you could despite how everyone had already gotten a free show from the both of you.

laylaspapi: B👀BS ?!?!? caught in 4k? just like that !?!??!????

mrloverl0ver: guess that means the games over now since y'all started stripping regardless ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

pucca_princxss: I think Heeseung's house might b haunted :'0

Chelbear03: HEESEUNGS FUCKING ABS RN- IS HE TRYING TO KILL ME !??!?

yxstar3ject: 👁👄👁

The chat was going crazy at this point, their flood of comments honestly being the last thing on your mind as you sat bottomless in Heeseung's gaming chair, wearing his T-shirt as he searched for another shirt somewhere behind you.

A billion emotions were coursing through your veins, still trying to grasp how you went from sneaking out your bedroom window, stripping in front of an audience, and getting flustered from the mere presence of Heeseung now.

"Alright guys, this was fun but we're gonna call it a night for now," Heeseung said as he came back into frame, not even bothering to sit back down as his right hand found the mouse, moving it towards the end stream button.

"Yeah, I think my streaming career might end here," you added jokingly, making Heeseung chuckle a bit at your words, his bright smile doing nothing but make your stomach flutter all over again.

What was going on with you?

"Who knows? Maybe we can work on starting an OnlyFans together ..."

"Heeseung-"

"I'm kidding," he laughed again, looking at your face from the screen, not even aware of how he bit his lip before speaking, "you look pretty on camera though, for what its worth."

The all-too familiar tune of the livestream ending rang in your ears, the screen displaying stats of the broadcast engagement, which surpassed any and every stream you've ever filmed before.

"Wow," Heeseung marveled, just as he shut his computer off.

"I know," you added, stretching your back while sitting, "we don't even reach stats like that in a week..."

"I wasn't talking about the ratings, ____," he returned, the room seeming much more quiet now that the computer was off, even though it's been this way the whole time.

"Enough about that, though," he started again, taking your hands in his to pull you out of the chair, "I haven't been a very good host to you this evening... making you work first thing before properly treating you... allow me to make up my lacking..."

"I mean... you gave me a nice seat and something to drink... you even lended me one of your shirts after I made a big mess of myself," you replied while giggling, feeling silly as he held both of your hands while speaking formally all of a sudden.

"Yes, yes, but I'm serious," he continued, now guiding you down to the rug lying in the middle of his bedroom floor, "you still like candy, right?"

ALMOST ANOTHER HOUR had passed and it was somewhere around midnight give or take, you and Heeseung hardly feeling tired as you sat on the mat together, alternating between eating orange slices and gummy bears.

You were propped up on your elbows, a glow still present on his face from the laughter you've shared together so far, even though there was something less innocent you wanted to get off your chest.

You were feeling completely reckless already, and you figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to push things a little further.

Besides, it’s not everyday that a girl like you gets an opportunity like this just placed in her lap.

It's just like Heeseung said, you'd be a fool to give up this bond you two share and not explore it further...

Plus, you weren't sure how much longer you could hide behind the good girl act.

Giselle was right: Heeseung had sex written in full length parables all up and down his six-foot-something body, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.... if you said it didn't reel you in, like a burning desire to explore what's corrupted.

To be ruined.

"Heeseung," you started, making him look down at you as he sat with his legs crossed, hair messy from the amount of times he ran a hand through it, "can I ask you something?... It's... kinda personal..."

He popped another strawberry flavored gummy bear into his mouth, "As long as it isn't about your period, I should be good to help you then," he chuckled slightly.

"And what makes you think that I need help with something?"

"Hmm… maybe just that way that your nails keep picking with my wrist watch right now," he answered quietly, drawing your attention to your fingers which tend to get busy whenever you were nervous.

"Oh- I... I didn't even realize...," you laughed at yourself, shying your hands away before sitting up and hiding them in your lap.

"Well go on," he urged, looking back at you with warmth in his eyes, taking off his glasses and setting them aside, "What'd you wanna ask me?"

You let out a breath, clenching your thighs a bit as your sight fell between his legs.

Fuck, did he just laugh? God, he definitely noticed your peeking... you fucking perver-

"I don't really know how to word this but..." you chewed on your lip in thought, "Sometimes... when it's just you and me alone like this... even when we're just video chatting... I feel," you looked up at the ceiling as if it'd help you divulge, "I don't really know what to call it."

He blinked at your words, adjusting his sitting position on the ground, "Are there certain things I do or say that make you feel... whatever it is that you can't explain?" He asked, tilting his head at you, just as his hand inched closer to you on the rug, but not quite touching your skin yet.

"Its a few things, actually-"

"Like what?" His hand was now on your thigh, eyes glued on your shaky figure even though you avoided eye contact, lost in the veins that trailed the pretty skin of his arm.

"When you touch me," you whispered so quietly, the only reason he heard you was because he read your lips, thinking in his own mind what it'd be like to taste them, "like that."

"Speak up for me, I can hardly hear you," he urged, almost as if cooing at you.

"I can't," you said shakily, chest expanding slightly with each heavy breath you took in and let out.

Your idea of being bold was starting to backfire... if only you could stop being so awkward about this for one second-

"It's just me, ____," he whispered with a slight chuckle this time, your hands finding the fluffy rug beneath you as your skin still stung from where he'd last touched you, "be as honest with me as you need."

"Maybe it's best we just pretend I never said anything," your voice trailed off, regretting having looked into his dark eyes that stared back at yours because you felt as though your shield had faltered, his energy coaxing your mind to wander.

"Would you mind if I took a guess?," Heeseung offered with an expression you couldn't read, but you nodded anyway, just as his hand traveled further up your thigh, your breath hitching in your chest as you felt his finger tips meet your core.

"You feel something in here, don't you?," he whispered again, "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Like hunger pains, you answered in your head, finding his shoulder as half of you thought to push him away while the other half just needed to touch him.

You nodded shyly in response, thankful that he didn't move any further so you could catch your breath, already too effected by his actions.

"I feel it sometimes, too. The aching... but I'm sure you're old enough to know there's only one way to get rid of it."

You didn't even have to ask to know what he was implying, feeling tempted to give in to whatever this urge was.

He was right though. It did ache, and so badly, your own core tearing up with a need you never intended to entertain.

That's when his touch creeped closer to your core, your thighs closing around his hand as you struggled to think clearly.

You almost couldn't in a state like this.

It baffled you how the energy was starting to change, but it was only a matter of time that you'd be able to sit bottom less in front of Heeseung looking the way he does before something sexual would happen.

"Are you willing to let me help you?" He asked, gripping your flesh between his hands as a shy sound fell from your lips.

You were having second thoughts.

"As much as I'd like to, Hee, it just doesn't seem right anymore..."

Even though this was all your idea to begin with-

"But doesn't it feel right?" he pressed, feeling his hands gently pry your thighs back open, but its not like you were putting up much of a fight either, "Besides, you wouldn't have told me if you didn't want me to do something about it..."

In this moment, you couldn't care less about maintaining that fleeting sense of virtue all the elders in your life harped on growing up.

You were simply young, horny, lovesick, and in need of a release.

Before you knew it, your legs were parted for him, your back against the rug as his head got comfortable at your heat, fingers barely grazing over your now bare cunt before he started leaving plush kisses against your sweet spot.

The ache was definitely still there, but having him this close to you made it feel better.

Almost too good, honestly…

“Heeseung-” you cried out, clamming your thighs around his head as you felt his thick and warm tongue enter you.

Hooking his hands at your knees, it helped to open you back up for him, feeling your stomach tighten as he continued to lick you down.

“I’m still here, baby…” he cooed, looking back up at you, just as your phone started to ding, "relax for me, alright?"

It was a few random messages here and there, you being too pleasure-drunk to give a damn as he continued lapping at your slick, alternating between one and two fingers as he teased your hole, only making you want more.

“Fuck…s- someone’s calling me,” you whined, propping up on your elbows with tired eyes as you reached for your phone, seeing none other than Giselle's contact number as Heeseung left your core, getting on his knees and unbuckling his belt.

"What're you-"

Your words were cut off as he leaned closer into you, his bulge resting in between your folds as he looked into your eyes and said, "Answer it."

He was already rocking against your pussy as you struggled to stay focused, his boxers being covered in your slick just from how wet you'd gotten, even though you nodded no.

“You want me to help you, don’t you?” He continued, completely aware of your stalling and hesitance as the phone continued to ring, your breathing only getting heavier as he kept grinding against you.

You bit your lip, clenching around nothing as his fingers cascaded over your sensitive spot. Heeseung practically drooled at the sight, your tight little cunt all slick and messy for him.

"Hello?" Giselle asked over the phone, "where the hell are you right now?"

Fuck.

You watched nervously as Heeseung pulled his boxers past his hips, his thickness springing up now that it was finally free to breathe.

"What're you talking about, I was just in my room," you lied terribly, watching Heeseung with pleading eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance, bracing a hand on you lower abdomen while glaring back at you, a glint of playfulness in his doe eyes.

Oh, the way you wanted to smack him across his pretty face right now-

"I wasn't born yesterday, ____. I checked your room an hour ago and you're still not here. Tell me where you are," she continued, voice cracking a bit as you winced through a bitten lip, thanks to Heeseung somehow having slid his thickness inside you.

Well, most of the way, at least...

"____?"

"Y-yes, I'm listening, just- don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit-"

"That still doesn't answer my question, ____..."

Thud.

You accidentally dropped your phone beside your head once Heeseung pushed all the way in now, leaving a few kisses along your neck to help you calm down.

His hips were still, but for some reason, your breathing remained shaky beneath him, your step-sister still awaiting your reply on the other side of the phone.

"Call you later," you said in a squeaky voice, reaching over to hang up the phone as Heeseung started to move again, your legs trembling a bit as the nerves in your mind traveled through your whole body.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He asked sarcastically, hand following a trail from your waist, over your boob, then to your neck, goosebumps sprouting on your skin as you suddenly felt cold, your body internally shivering.

"Hee," you said with a whimper, feeling his grip loosen around your neck before he started thrusting into your walls, your slick providing just enough lubrication for him to slide in and out easily.

You couldn't even think in your mind at this point, his actions already becoming more than you could handle given how new everything was.

How nice he felt.

"C'mon, don't get quiet on me now, baby, I just started," he teased, slamming his pelvis against yours to hopefully reel a moan out of you, which obviously worked, your hand flying up to grip the fluffy rug over your head as it became harder to hide your sounds.

He hissed at the feeling of you clenching around him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked into your eyes.

"So either you like it when I'm rough with you or when I call you baby..." he started in a low voice, "which is it?"

"M-maybe both... now can you stop trying to turn me on with your words for one fucking second?," you asked with labored breaths, feeling your orgasm creep up on you a lot sooner than anticipated.

Sure, this was your first time, but you were glad he didn't treat you like a baby during the whole thing.

There was just something about the way his voice sounded in this moment, the way he was rutting into you like a horny teenager that took you over the edge.

And he was being such a tease, trying to make you talk knowing that your sentences would be broken and whiney thanks to how rough he was going.

He wanted to hear you falling apart underneath him.

He let out the most attractive chuckle you'd ever heard at your words, "But I can tell it's working," he smirked, bracing himself against the floor so you could wrap your legs around him better, "now quit your complaining and keep taking me like a good girl, alright?"

You're sure your clit started doing backflips at the pet-name, coupled with the pretty sounds he was very intentionally humming beneath your ear.

He found your wrists on the rug, sliding up to your hands and interlacing his fingers with yours,

“Stop trying to act tough, I can tell this is all new to you…. don’t even know what to do with your hands, huh?” his said, watching as your eyes get lost in the view of his shaggy hair.

He snickered, “you can touch it if you want…”

Fuck, you thought to yourself. You don’t know why you felt the need to put on some act for him… maybe it was because you assumed a competition between yourself and other girls he’s been with, even though in reality, you’d been the only girl on his mind for a while now.

“I…,” you started with a stutter, “I can’t.”

Your fingers were still interlaced with his, but your inability to touch him had less to do with the fact that he had you pinned down, and more so to do with your nerves.

As badly as he wanted to keep toying with your head in this moment, he could you were getting closer from how your breath kept hitching, so he didn’t have much time to play.

Releasing his grip from your hands, he brought a thumb to your chin, tapping at it for you to open your mouth, “I’m gonna speed up now then, okay?”

He choked out, his own head becoming a little fuzzy as you parted your lips obediently for him, the sight of your tongue laving at his fingers being enough to make him feel like cumming.

He knew you had to get home quick now, but he still wanted to give you the best orgasm of your life.

Once he collected enough of your spit on his fingers, he slid his hand down, circling your swollen bud while looking into your eyes, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Fuck, Heeseung~,” you cursed with furrowed brows, whimpers that almost sounded like high pitched hiccups falling from your lips as you felt your hips chase his.

There was so much energy coursing through both of your bodies that it could charge your dying phone on the floor right now.

“It’s okay baby, you’re almost- shit, you’re almost there,” he grunted weakly as he continued fucking into your walls with his fingers at your clit, his own eyes closing at how good your tightness felt around him.

You never heard yourself sound like this before, getting all whiny just as he whispered the words “Come for me” against your neck, sealing the space with a kiss and retreating his hand from your core, holding you in place as your orgasm hit like a flood.

You were squirming so much, walls pulsating like a drum as he kissed you down, your hands finally being brave enough to grip at his hair while he rode out your high.

You could tell that he didn’t finish inside you, but he was nice enough to slow down and not fuck you completely stupid.

“I can’t even believe we just did that,” you mumbled mindlessly, eyes staring back at him as he started to gently caressed your cheek.

“Wasn’t too bad for a quickie though, right?,” he asked jokingly while still inside you, not quite yet ready to pull out of your comforting warmth.

To say goodbye to the you he brought out in this sex-filled space.

“No… it wasn’t bad at all,” you smiled back, words sounding somewhere in between a shocking realization and sincere compliment.

“Then I guess that means we can look forward to doing this more often-”

“Heeseung-”

“Kidding,” he whispered softly, meeting your lips in one last kiss before leaning back up to adjust his pants, “now let’s get you cleaned up and ready for home before your mom has me crucified.”

“Okay,” you said while laughing slightly until he pulled out of you, your legs trembling a bit from the missing fullness.

From the feeling in his chest, Heeseung came to fully accept that he was 110% in love with you, not giving a flying fuck about the naysayers who’d disapprove of your now-even-more-complicated friendship.

You on the other hand, came to realize that Heeseung was worth much more than being judged by a bunch of hypocrites, and that you now had the courage to make a lot of your own decisions now, even if they’re solely for the sake of pleasure.

”Still,” you continued, watching as he stood up from the ground to grab a pack of wipes from his desk, “I just remembered that I locked my bedroom window when I left.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked while parting your legs, wiping your sweaty thighs down with your panties hunched up in his other hand.

You admired the view of him cleaning you up with adoration flooding your heart, your limbs letting themselves relax as feathery words fell from your lips, “It means I might have to spend the night at your place for a little longer…”

Fin…

♱ Thank you beyond words to everyone reading this right now! I teased the release of this fic a while ago but ended up changing almost everything that I’d originally written because it was kinda shitty 🥴 but hopefully you all enjoyed this fic anyway! Also, masterlist is here !!

♱ tag list: @fakeuwus @adeoluhh @zerasari @anonant @yaatrickyaaa @depressedandobsessed666 @woninluv @moonshoon @imjakes-wifeofc1 @heesbee @kaykay11sworld @wannieepisod @ilikekpop-c @heesoo11 @idkdykilr @seungjiseyo @nctislifue @ro-diaries @heesushiii @jakehooni @babygirlmarshmellow @jaysdze @princeseung @flowerbe0m @skzenhalove @rayofsunshineeee @wonsbaer @namdeyuoi @tasnim10 @cheruluv @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @addictedtohobi @yourmomscuntis2tighy @ashgonedash

#heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours #enhypen hard hours #heeseung fic #heeseung ff #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ff #lee heeseung #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen #heeseung smut

[asliceofzosan]

On Sanji's birthday, a smaller version of him shows up on the Sunny one day. Sanji reflects on who he once was and finally learns to forgive himself.

Happiest Birthday to Sanji <3

He was so small.

He wished it was like looking into a mirror — where he could clearly see everything about him that he considered weak in those glassy blue eyes that would never stop crying. But it didn't even feel like he was looking at who he once was, who he once remembered being, living, and breathing as.

He was so small.

Small enough that the birthday hat that Luffy made for him out of cardboard and rubber bands flopped over his forehead and covered his eyes. Those tiny, shaking hands gripped the tip of the hat and peeked from beneath the shade, confused but captivated by his captain's ever present grin. Small enough that when he was handed a riceball, he had to hold both hands out just so he wouldn't drop it.

He was so small.

And Sanji had forgotten how small he once was.

"You haven't moved for a solid ten minutes," Usopp said as he slid up next to him, leaning against the railing with a drink in his hand. "I'm sure baby Sanji won't get hurt if you look away, you know?"

"I'm not worried about him getting hurt." Sanji still kept his eyes on his younger self regardless. He was now playing a little card game with Chopper, who more or less didn't know the rules to the game either. So neither of them were winning.

"Okay," Usopp elongates the last syllable before sipping his drink. "Then go have fun, man! It's your birthday, after all."

Sanji hums and moves to light a cigarette. But one look at his baby self running around with Luffy and Chopper made him decide against it. Usopp pretends not to see the way Sanji brushes off the gesture like he always meant to do that.

Waking up with a crying child in his bunk bed this morning was not how he pictured his birthday to start out. Waking up and seeing the version of him with that wretched steel helmet on his head was something else entirely. His younger self looked terrified and almost tried to escape – run away from him.

"P-Please... Don't hurt me..." The little boy said, his trembling hands covering his head as if that would truly protect him. Sanji's heart broke. It's been years since he thought of this moment, years since Whole Cake Island, and years more since Germa ever occupied the forefront of his mind. So seeing his younger self, shaking and crying and begging for his life, stirred something protective within him. Protect the child inside of him that was screaming to be held for once, held tenderly, held like he was loved.

"I won't hurt you," Sanji said with his voice barely above a whisper. "No one will hurt you here."

"How do you know that?"

Sanji swallowed, ducking his head. Living on a pirate ship doesn't necessarily guarantee safety. But there's one thing he can always guarantee when he's with the Straw Hats...

"I know because you're loved," The little Sanji's eyes clouded with doubt. Sanji understood all too well why. So he slowly reached out, his hands stopping just shy of the lock on the helmet. Little Sanji moved back a fraction of an inch but Sanji just smiled at him. "Let's get this off of you and I'll show you just how loved you are."

Years ago, if he saw this version of him, he would have tried to avoid the kid like the plague. He didn't want to be reminded of such a horrid time. He didn't want to remember a point in his life where he was too weak, too fragile, too human.

But now it is different.

Now, he knows that being too human was not his greatest flaw but his greatest strength. And that being weak doesn't mean he can't be strong too. It may have taken him so many years to get to that point. But better late than never, right? He doesn't know what will happen if he lets his younger self know that he'll find these people one day. But he's lived through tough times with a dream and the smallest spark of hope that Luffy and his crew kept ignited.

And it wouldn't be such a bad thing to let his kid self... finally be a kid.

"Hey," Usopp nudged Sanji and pointed with his lips in one direction. "Check out who little you took a liking to."

Sanji looked back just in time to see a certain green-haired swordsman giving tiny Sanji a piggyback ride. Something mushy and sappy and gross stirred inside his heart. One that he hasn't been a stranger to for a couple of years now. His hand subconsciously gravitates to the long golden earring dangling from his left ear and finds himself smiling as his younger self laughs at something Zoro said.

"I wanna grow up to be as big and strong as you!" Little Sanji exclaims, his tiny arms wrapped securely around Zoro's neck and shoulders. Zoro laughs — a loud guffaw that shouldn't be as attractive to Sanji as it is this very moment. He reaches up to ruffle little Sanji's hair.

"You'll become even better, little buddy."

"Even stronger than you?!?"

"That's debatable," Zoro says with a little snort. Sanji rolls his eyes with more affection than he ever wants to admit. Within that time, Zoro has transferred little Sanji off of his back and into his arms, and the image of Zoro holding this version of Sanji – with a tenderness he only ever reserves for Chopper – has his mind racing with scenarios his heart can barely take.

"One of the strongest people I know is also the kindest," Zoro says, tucking a strand of blond hair behind little Sanji's ear. "No matter how many people put him down, he'll serve 'em if they're hungry. Doesn't mean jack shit to him if they've got the highest bounty in all the Blues."

"And I think..." Zoro looks up and locks gazes with present Sanji — his Sanji — and gives him a wink. "If you ain't got a big heart, there's no way you can't be strong."

"My father says I care too much..." Little Sanji says, his hands bunch up the fabric of Zoro's shirt. Zoro smooths the hair out of his forehead and does something that makes Sanji's stomach do backflips.

He kisses the little one on the forehead.

"We all need someone who cares a little too much." Zoro assures him and it feels like Zoro isn't speaking to baby Sanji anymore. His eyes are stuck on the man he married, his gaze unwavering and true, and Sanji can't help but blink back a few tears that were forming the whole time. "It's okay for you to care. It's okay for you to feel. Heck, it took me a hell of a long time to learn to love someone properly as much as I do now."

Little Sanji looks up at Zoro, stars in his all blue eyes. "Will I get to love someone too?"

"Of course you do, kid." Zoro ruffles his hair again and touches the tips of their noses together briefly. "You're so loved, Sanji."

Hearing that, Little Sanji's eyes flick over to older Sanji, who's been watching them the whole time. Remembering their previous conversation, Little Sanji smiles the biggest smile that could put every star in the sky to shame.

I'll show you just how loved you are.

When everyone is asleep and the only ones left on the deck are a tired little blond cook-to-be and his future self, something in the air tells them that it might almost be time to go. Little Sanji's arms were wrapped around older Sanji's neck, his head resting on the man's chest so he can hear his steady heartbeat.

"This was the best birthday ever," Little Sanji says as he fights back a yawn. Sanji chuckles, holding the boy a little tighter.

"You'll have so many more birthdays like this, kid."

"Will Zoro be in all of them?"

Sanji laughs. Leave it up to his tiny self to also fall hopelessly in love with his oaf of a husband. Time is a circle, perhaps. "Not all of them. But enough of them to matter."

"That's good," Little Sanji whispers, nuzzling even closer into Sanji's space. Silence befalls them and distant wind chimes greet them. Little Sanji stirs, unsure. "I don't wanna leave."

"I know."

"I'll be back, right?" Little Sanji looks up at him, that same fear burning in his gaze. But Sanji sees something brighter there – the persistent spark of hope that things will eventually get better. That he'll leave that cold lifeless cell and breathe in the salty sea air on a pirate ship that has never been more alive.

He wants this version of him to always have that spark. For that spark will eventually become a roaring fire – the one that tells everyone that Black Leg Sanji is here. And he's here to stay.

"You will," Sanji tells him, giving his younger self one last bright smile. "It's gonna take a while, buddy. But you'll be right here."

Little Sanji mirrors his smile, reaches out to hold his face between his tiny hands, and presses their foreheads together. In the blink of an eye, the child was gone, and Sanji lets out the shakiest sigh. He leans his head back to rest against the wall, feeling happier than he's ever been since the day he got married.

"You'll be right back here, kid." Sanji whispers into the air, reaching his hand out to the sky to trace his own constellations. His own path. His own vision of the future, fortified by the euphoria of living in his present.

Sanji's other hand goes back to his left ear. Back to that earring. And smiles.

"Because you are so loved."

Happy Birthday, Sanji 🥹 I know this is late but I really wanted to write something for my favorite babygirl. Something a little different to the Zoro birthday piece because I need my boy to admit how loved he is 💛💛

#Happy Birthday Sanji! #one piece #sanji #roronoa zoro #zosan #usopp #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #the obligatory de-aged sanji fic but make it less angsty ?? #niki's fics: your future march

[sussysluttyscorpio]

Random Astrological Observations (Mars Edition) Part-8

(this picture does not belong to me in any fashion) (Please take only what resonates)

~Sagittarius Mars people. You all are, well, argumentative. Don't deny it. It is a good thing. You all defend your beliefs or the things you feel are right, according to you, very firmly. Be it your religious beliefs or political ideas, if someone doesn't agree with you, you make sure they do after a conversation with them.

They ain't the people to say, "Well, everybody has their own ideas." It's either "high way or my way" for them. Also, it's either black or white for you. You don't believe in greys. Like, if someone holds a different opinion than you, they're wrong. Ain't nobody changing your mind, Sagittarius mars.

But, you always listen to what the other is saying. Regardless of anything, you'll listen to their side of the argument and then pull up your fact list and counter it well. The fire sign drive is very evident.

My Libra Mars to you be like: 😍

~Mars, as y'all know, is exalted in Capricorn. Well, I'd like to salute to these people. You and your will power and grit🫡 You people are BORN LEADERS. Courageous. Disciplined. Practical. Like, if you have this placement, there's a great chance of you going into the Armed Forces or Police, or even an Entrepreneur.

Business Leaders.

Just keep in mind, though, to not get too much in your head. This placement shows a lot of ego due to the success you may achieve. There's no pride in a success without humility.

And if you guys ever find yourself in a position to help others, which you will, please do. Leaders lead and this placement loves to lead too at times, so find people to help and lead them to success because you can.

~All this can be affected by other placements too. Like if you have Venus sitting in here with Mars, or even Moon in the same house, it can make a person go soft where he has to be headstrong (work decisions) and make a person go harsh where he has to be gentle. (like love affairs)

Venus and Moon are soft planets. They cushion the Martian harshness (which it doesn't need), making a person end up being conflicted in what emotions to feel at what time.

Repressed anger, feeling choked up by intense emotions or arguments, unable to hold back tears when given a reality check. This often happens with Venus-Mars or Moon-Mars conjunctions.

~This also happens a lot with Cancer Mars, Libra Mars and Taurus Mars. These mars placements have a tough time communicating their anger. Either they suppress it and let it consume them or they burst out at their loved ones. (Might be a tad bit better for Taurus Mars since they are a little grounded... or maybe not)

Especially Cardinal Mars. You aren't supposed to anger a Cardinal Mars intentionally! They may hurt you besides hurting themselves by lashing out on you. The more they get angry, the more they feel guilty afterwards.

~Virgo Mars have an urge to ransack everywhere for flaws. They hate hate HATE flaws. They even see flaws as failures, even if they may not show it outwardly. Very detail oriented people.

Mars here is more into on paper or communicative passion or drive. They devote their everything into things which are on paper- contracts, agreements, deeds. This placements makes great advocates or attorneys.

In 3rd house let's say, Virgo Mars people could have a thing for arguments. Vocally aggressive. Might find a feeling of being 'alive' in arguments.

In 6th, they may be obsessed with their body image. Perfect diet, perfect body, perfect routine. (TW: may be Hypochondriacs)

In 7th house, these people may go and find flaws in their partners. Their habits or hygiene or lifestyle.

In 11th, they may obsess over their social image on Instagram, Tiktok, etc. How people perceive them.

~Leo Mars beauties. Muah Muah Muah❤️ Queen B energy, guysss! Or is it IT girl energy? I'll leave that to you to decide.

They get the spotlight, that y'all know. What may differ is whether or not they like the spotlight they are in. Often, they would just be minding their business, they enter the room and BAM, all the heads turn at them.

These people have a command on attention. When they enter, everybody knows they are here. Leo Mars people, many, might even hate it. Like if they have a Capricorn ascendant (Scorpio in 11th), they maybe like "Tf is with everyone knowing my business OR not letting me stay lowkey? Stfu y'all and go back to whatever you were doing, shoo."

(just an example please y'all😭)

~Had to cover base on a Air or Water Mars, but I've already talked about a Saturnian Mars, Mercurial Mars, Venusian Mars, Jupiter Mars...

Sooooooo, let's go Martian Mars.

Mars in Scorpio and V for Vendetta. I admire this placement. I really do. They are so tactical with almost everything. They are the people who are most probable to have Plans A to Z for a Zombie Apocalypse.

If I may, I'd say 'The Professor' from 'Money Heist' was a Scorpio Mars. The character I mean. Just what I feel.

These natives give me that undercover FBI agent vibes y'know. Or if you've seen that anime 'Spy X Family', the Agent Twilight gives me Scorpio Mars energy. The dark, siren, clever energy. Just my observation lol.

They could even be the most childlike person you've ever met. Other placements and aspects change everything.

So, it's better if you take everything I say with a pile of rock salt. lol.

#astrology tumblr #astrology observations #astro observations #sidereal astrology #astro notes #vedic astrology #astrology #astro community #sidereal zodiac #sidereal chart #birth chart #horoscope #vedicastrology #astrology notes #sagittarius mars #libra mars #capricorn mars #cancer mars #taurus mars #virgo mars #leo mars #capricorn rising #capricorn ascendant #scorpio mars #venus conjunct mars #moon conjunct mars #scorpio #virgo #cancer #cardinal signs

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hello, First timer here. May I please request for Yandere Nanami Kento wherein their darling finds their stalker wall ( a wall filled with their pictures) after being invited into his apartment and proceeds to runaway from him

Great idea. this will be my dessert. And speaking of dessert........

The sun began to disappear on the horizon. It had a calming dark orange color rather than the blinding white light it usually had. Parts of the sky that took off with the sun brought a yellow hue that eventually faded into a dark blue above. The clouds were purple and pink, which gave the impression that this was probably the most beautiful sunset in Japan this year. Yet, Kento wouldn't dare take his eyes off of your face. You were ten times more beautiful than any sunset he's ever laid his eyes on. Everything from your reflective eyes to your beautiful lips was something he could never get off of his mind. He needed you to be his forever.

He managed to persuade you into having a few dates with him. You and him have been work partners for a few years at the same company, and he's "known" you for even longer than that. He knew you didn't really like your job and only stayed for the amazing pay. He also knew that he was your type. Organized. Neat. Kept to himself and never really bothered to talk with others. He intrigued you and you wanted to know more about him. It was less of convincing, and more of you asking him out, if anything. More of a reason for you to stick around. He wasn't complaining.

And so you two were almost halfway through the first date. "Surprise me," you said. So he gave you some sort of dress code that would be nice for the place he'd take you to and he brought you to a (pretty expensive, in your opinion) new restaurant that opened in Tokyo. You had a great time ordering to your hearts content, like he told you to do. And you're surprised that he could even afford a place like this. It made you wonder what kind of pay gap you two had.

You spoke the most out of the both of you, even with shoving all of the food you ate into your mouth. He told you to be careful, of course, but couldn't help but let out little chuckles from your adorable behavior. You told him about your position and what you to at work(which he already knew about), told him about the stray cats you feed every night because they kept begging you so sweetly for more deli cuts from your fridge(he knew that too), and you told him about how much you enjoy his company.

"I don't know." You said, sipping your red wine while maintaining eye contact with him. "It's something really nice about you." You give him a simple smile, your beautiful nails tapping against the polish wooden dinner table. He felt his cock twitch in his pants and tried to fight back the heat that began to reach his face and ears from your sudden complete attention on him.

"You're so sweet and caring.........Very attentive and responsible. I like that in a man." You sat back in your seat, eating smaller bites off of your plate now. "You know, I can't find men like you anymore. Like, a lot of them always seem to have a lot of the qualities I want. Money, great hygiene, great taste in places they take me to, but..." You shook your head. "There's always that one thing that just....doesn't do it for me, you know?" Kento nods, understanding what you meant. He prayed that there wasn't anything you didn't like about him. Because he knows how picky you can get. And he'll play dollhouse with you a million times before you find out about how he managed to be with you in this moment.

"I used to give them a chance. That's what a lot of older women would tell me. Give them a chance, it's just one flaw, nenenene, whatever. But then I see the men that they stay with and it's.......I don't want to insult their taste, but. No. And every time I gave someone a chance, they revealed so many other things that I didn't like about them. The guy before you was just like you. So nice to me, had money, was neat and clean. He was great." You flip your hand around.

Kento internally monologues to himself, 'nice isn't enough'.

"But he was a fucking misogynist. I almost got slapped probably," Kento's eyebrows shoots up. "What?? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" You shake your head. "Nononono, I was exaggerating, I shouldn't have. Sorry."

"No, it's okay, you don't need to apologize. I just want to make sure nothing bad happened. Who was this guy?" You roll your eyes. "Some CEO at like, um........McDonald's. I'm surprised he wasn't fat with all of the leftovers he always brought back with him." You insult him and scoff. Kento makes a hard mental note to do some deep research on all current and former CEO's of McDonald's establishments. And also to get into your phone's database.

"And him being nice wasn't enough at all." See? "And after all of the 'nice guys' I dated, and all of the weird misogynists-in-hiding i've spoken to, I have a very...very good feeling," You grab his cold hands with your very warm ones, "That you are so much more than every sleaze I gave crumbs to."

"......so I am receiving 'crumbs'?" You smile and let go of his hands. He dearly misses the warmth you provided to him. "The first date is always crumbs. It's just a matter if I believe that you deserve more than just that." You silently watch Kento pay for the bill before packing your stuff. Before you can get out of your seat, Kento almost(fully) rushes out of his to help you back up. You sweetly thank him, putting your jacket on(with his help again) and let out an exhale as you both step outside of the restaurant onto the streets.

It takes a few anxious seconds of silence for Kento to speak up. "Is it alright if we make some dessert at my place? I have all of the ingredients to make an apple pie, I didn't want to waste your time by just sitting on the couch with you. But if you want to call it a night, I can walk you back home and we can discuss our next date on the way back?"

When you turn and smile at him, the setting sun accents your face in every way possible. Kento prays to god that this moment in time isn't a dream. Without realizing, his face relaxes, brown eyes giving you that look as if you were his nonexistent teenage dream that he's meeting for the first time. It feels so natural when you slip your hand into his, intertwining your fingers together.

"No. I realize I want to do this with you. You're special. I hope you realize that by now." Kento can only stay silent while his heart nearly beats out of his chest for the entire way back to his place. You didn't mind the silence, humming and pointing at flowers or birds that caught your attention for a few seconds.

Kento goes over every door he locked and every little thing he hid around his house in case you agreed to be with him at his place. But now that you two were in front of his door, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. So, he calmly opens his front door, lets you in first with a smile, before closing it behind him. He acts as if nothing is suspicious as you both take off your shoes and outside jackets, putting them in their respective places.

Kento excuses himself to open his sliding door in the back for ventilation, only to really check all doors for their locks, peek into certain rooms he purposefully left unlocked. "Hey, Kento?" You called from the kitchen. "Yes? Is there anything you need?" He calls back, making his way to the sliding door. "Is it okay if I use your bathroom?"

"My home is your home. The bathroom is down the hall by the staircase." And it's as he opens the sliding doors that he tenses realizes you'd possibly open one of two doors at the end of the hallway. The one leading into his humongous shrine entirely dedicated to you, or the actual bathroom.

"Y/n, wait." Kento does a 180 turn and power walks back to the front of his home, about to turn left before nearly bumping into you. You pass him with the same speed he had almost, putting on your shoes you left by the door. His heart drops into his stomach when he turns and sees the door to his shrine left wide open. "Y/n-" You had already left out the door by the time he turns back to face you.

Kento thinks back to seven months ago when he first started stalking you. How long it took for him to get his first clear picture of your face in a crowd full of people. How long it took for him to build his body shape into the one you desired. How long it took for him to find a place in Shinjuku to be closer to you. To be in the same work company as you. And, fuck, did it take forever for him to get you to notice him. And now here you are. Running out of his apartment in fear of him. All of the love and desire he poured into you, into your beautiful shrine entirely dedicated to you. He was completely devoted to you. And you're running. How fucking stupid it was for him to believe he could have it easy.

His face forms into one of anger as you step out into the cold once more, as if you forgot every single good fucking thing he had brought onto you. You didn't even realize how close he got until you felt his iron-tight grip clamp onto your shoulder and yank you back into his apartment. You land onto the floor harshly and flinch when he slams the door shut, locking it tight.

You never realized how much bigger and stronger Nanami was compared to you until now. You were just a little mouse and he was like a tiger. "I can't let you go." He says. His heart feels as if it's hanging on a few strings in his chest. His throat begins to close out of stress and sadness. He didn't want to do this to you. He got so so so close....but you tried to ruin everything you two had build together.

"I'm sorry." He whispers. He rubs his face and turns his back to you. "Fuck." You stay silent and still. You couldn't believe what you had gotten yourself into. You couldn't have known that the silent businessman that worked a floor above you was a weirdo creep who would fucking hold you hostage.

"It was my fault. I knew that that door was unlocked. And forgot to lock it. I never wanted you to see that." He turns back to face you now. You're still silent. Nanami desperately wants you to say something. He missed the sound of your voice in his ears. He missed feeling your touch. And knowing it won't ever be genuine like it felt today just made it feel like a huge part of him died inside. The silence killed him.

"........You have to stay here." "No." You immediately respond to that, shaking your head. You scramble to your feet and step up to him. "I'm not your hostage, Nanami." He turns his head in mental pain, hating how you aren't on first-name basis now. "No, you're not. But you won't ever want to be with me again. And the last thing I need is for someone else to find out about it."

"Of fucking course I wouldn't want to be around you anymore. Who knows what other shit you've seen me do. It's so sickening to think I was going to be close to my stalker. Oh, jesus christ." The vile words pour out of your mouth and Nanami's jaw tenses. Nanami looked like a child being told he couldn't see his mother ever again and it just made you more pissed off. You wanted to leave. The door was right there. But his desire to want you....and keep you...kept you from being free.

You step back in thought. What the fuck are you going to do? As if he could read your mind, Nanami looks up at you. He hasn't moved once from his spot. "I will take care of you."

You shake your head and purse your lips. "I wouldn't dare neglect you. You are my angel. You know that. Right?" He takes a step closer. "We can sleep in the same bed once we get there...but until then, I can give you my bedroom."

His dining room and kitchen are big. With the surrounding space, you feel like you could get around him somehow. So you shed the jacket, letting it drop to the floor. "......" He stares at it before looking back up at you. "And then...I will also bathe you, and allow you to use the hygiene products I know you use." You scowl and cross your arms.

"I know you're trying to run." Nanami walks up to you as calmly as possible. But he moved where you moved. Which is how you ended up on the floor straddled when you tried shoving past him. "Please don't make me do this." He begs. You shout profanities at him, which eventually water down to you just sobbing, tears rushing down your face as you gasped for air. "Please, just let me go!" Nanami keeps your hands together with one hand, and wipes your face of your tears with the other. Your face was hot as you tried to avoid his cold touch.

Nanami shakily sighs. He really didn't want to say no to you. But you couldn't just leave. So for the first time ever, he ignored you. He ignored your squeals of fear as he hoists you off of the ground and brings you into the guest bedroom, locking the door from the outside. He ignores the loud bangs on the door as he cleans up the small mess left behind, putting away the prepped ingredients for the apple pie for another time. And he ignores that small selfish feeling of happiness bloom in his chest at his once in a lifetime chance to finally have something go right in his life. No matter how dark and twisted the path was to get to this point.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #reader #jjk #yandere character #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #yandere nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #yandere male #soft yandere #tw yandere #yandere imagines

[kangen-wanshi]

Recorded Proposals ft. Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto

"I'm glad that that whole mess is done now.. Though I guess it's kind of a shame that I didn't get to actually propose to the bride, huh. I practiced a lot, too..!"

"Oh, don't worry, Prefect! I have all of your practice proposals recorded!"

".. What? Wait, Ortho what do you mean you have it recorded — Ortho- Hey!"

Tags: Separate, proposals and daydream and all the sweet stuff, no gendered pronouns used but reader is mentioned to be wearing make-up and such in Trey's

Trey Clover

"I know that you're no longer alive.. I know that we couldn't enjoy the joy of mortal entertainment and woes, but.. Even after death, I wish to always stay by your side and go through whatever there is ahead and build a bright future with you! So please.. Marry me!"

Trey got the video from Cater. One day the orangette sent him the video through DMs with just a wink emoji and some teasing about his crush on you and he just sort of accepts it with a light blush.

Trey watches that specific part over and over whenever he is about to go to bed (he refuses to watch it anywhere else). Your words stuck to him - whether it is because of the oddly sincere look in your eyes when you speak, or your beautiful attire, or perhaps your styled hair and make-up — He doesn't know why he's so addicted to it.

It became a sort of charm for him to have a good sleep (which sometimes involves having you in his dream). Your words rang and echoed through his mind when Trey finally shut his eyes and cuddled his blanket at night, ready to dream about you after a particularly long day.

Sometimes he likes to daydream that you were saying those words to him, as cringe as it sounds to his opinion. Trey always ended up a blushing mess with a lovesick grin on his face whenever that specific thought came up randomly throughout the day. He always hides himself with a hand over his mouth or his hat being pulled just a little lower. He's blushing? No. The weather probably just got a little warmer..

He's a sucker for anything that involves 'building a future together'. He's a big family man, he wishes to have his own family one day, preferably with you in the picture of course. As his partner. Domesticity is just sort of his thing at this point and he's not even denying it.

Maybe he should come clean to you.. Maybe you managed to spur out these specific words that tug on his heartstrings because you, too, want it for yourself. Perhaps in those silly proposals, you let out a small speck of your desire, which is why it seems so genuine in his eyes..

Either way he still acted normally around you. He would bring up the topic of the video and the proposals every now and then to tease you - without outing himself about the fact that he has a personal copy of it. 

Perhaps he'll invite you to bake more often. Perhaps he'll invite you to various normal 'dates' and activities together. You can study together.. You can watch movies together.. Oh hey look his hand found yours, did he just intertwine your fingers together? You don't mind if he stays there for a while.. Right?

Leona Kingscholar

"I know what other people may say. You and I are.. Different, in every aspect. Yet I couldn't help but be drawn to you. To your beauty, your flaws. The way you love and the way you hate.. All of it..! And I promise you, I'll love you through and through - no matter what people may say. No matter what you'll become. Will you.. Marry me?"

Not sure how he got the video.. Most likely asked Ruggie to get it for him in secret? He made a deal with Azul to get a copy? Who knows. He doesn't really care where he got it from - it's with him now.

Leona watches it in the middle of the night. He likes to snicker and chuckle at your other failed attempts. It's a.. Good pastime. When he feels particularly terrible after a day, he watches your silly acting trying to propose to a dead Princess as a way of entertainment.

He got attached to that specific line of your proposals without even realizing. Whenever he went to watch it, he would usually skip to that part specifically to hear you say those words again and again. Except this time he isn't laughing. Rather he looks quite intense listening to your words.

Why do you have to stare so intently at the camera..? It made the experience a little too realistic to his liking. Now he needs to deal with the hammering noises in his heart, heat that slowly pools on his cheek, and his tail which swish and flick around.. Darn Herbivore you're making his sleep a little more difficult this time and you're not even here with him!

Leona doesn't daydream, but some part of your words does strike a nerve in him. You said you'd love someone despite your differences and their flaws? What a coincidence. You and him have lots of flaws and you're pretty different from each other. Right? He just lets those words keep on repeating over and over in his mind whenever he feels like it.

Actually he listened to your voice so much in his head now that he couldn't handle not hearing your voice. Leona doesn't usually have his phone with him but Ruggie noticed that he's been carrying it with him a lot lately.. Even though Leona still doesn't answer any of his calls or texts. He brought them so he could listen to you when he knew that would have a particularly busy day. He even converted the video to mere audio so he can listen to it.

Leona is also another one who acted mostly normal around you. He doesn't really bring up the event - considering that he failed miserably himself with his proposal attempt, so he doesn't like bringing it up.

But you noticed that his stare has become.. Longer, and that his hold on you linger, followed by his tail which often would cling to you whenever you're within proximity. Hey, what did you mean by you'll love anyone despite your vast differences? Huh? What do you mean those were just fake proposals? Come on answer the question, he's listening. 

Azul Ashengrotto

"I've seen all of you. Your past, and your current self. And I don't doubt that you still have many many sides of you that are hidden from the world. Sides that you love- sides that you hate. I wish to love all of them, all of you - including your future. And.. Well there's no other way than to tie ourselves with love and marriage so that I may achieve this dream of mine.. Right?"

Either he got it from Idia who got it from Ortho, or he straight up asked Ortho, Azul will have his way to watch that video. A determined one, and everyone knows how Azul is when he wants something to be part of his possession. 

At first he keeps telling himself that this is for academic purposes. He failed his own proposal back then despite his careful calculation and thorough planning, he just.. he wants to know how you handle it since you're the charming Prefect of Ramshackle! Of course! You would be a great reference should anything similar like this arise in the future!

Azul clips every part that he deemed important (keeps telling himself that these are bookmarks for the highlight of your proposal but really these are just his favorite parts.) Which includes you giggling at yourself because of how stupid the proposal was, or you being utterly embarrassed because of what you said. He has them in short clips!

Although there is a clip which he finds himself constantly repeating. He found your words to be.. Comforting and flattering. At first he thought that maybe this is his ideal proposal. And then he nodded to himself before continuing his said research. And then he immediately snapped back and realized that Oh Sevens is this his ideal proposal?!

Azul finds the idea that you, perhaps, would be willing to love him no matter the amount of facades he has to put up for his business, to be extremely endearing and beneficial to him. He would have your affection, while he's still able to keep up with his Deals. Why would he hate the idea? If not, it made him want you even more than he already did. (Even though he knew these were probably just you sputtering some romantic nonsense to gain the Princess' heart.. He.. Likes to wish. He just hope he could fulfill this specific wish of his own now..)

Since then he couldn't watch the video seriously anymore. He would be blushing - not to that specific part but to literally every other proposal you practiced (although that has become his favorite).

Azul doesn't daydream. He wants things and he will have them. Including you.

He would become more bold in his advances. He keeps falling in love with you over and over whenever he watches or remembers the video - it's only fair that he should start making you fall for him over and over.

So, Prefect, Azul has this new business idea and it involves you.. Oh don't worry you'll gain plenty of benefit from it! Would you like to at least talk about it or consider it? You would? Brilliant! Meet him in the VIP room he already has everything prepared!.. What do you mean you saw a marriage contract on his table?

#x reader #reader insert #les does writing #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #trey clover x reader #twst trey x reader #trey x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twst leona x reader #leona x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst azul x reader #azul x reader

[aalyssah]

Insecure

Pairing: Chris Evans x Insecure!Reader

Warnings: Smut. Soft Sex, Praise, Pet names (Sweet girl, Pretty girl), Angst, Body Shaming, Bullying, Cyberbullying, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft!Chris Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 3,504

Summary: You're insecure and Chris's fans has pushed you to the limit.

A/N: This one is really long and I'm sorry but, I hope you enjoy!

You were the girlfriend of the one and only Chris Evans. You wanted to have your relationship private for privacy purposes but, a couple of months ago you came to the agreement to come out publicly.

Ever since then you've been getting hate comments on your posts. 2 weeks ago you posted a picture of you and Chris going out for breakfast and all the comments were filled with things like 'Chris is so hot he needs someone better' and 'Why is he with her? She's fat and ugly' and 'She's just a golddigger using Chris.

You knew about the consequences before making your relationship public and you thought you could handle it, but it was taking a turn on you. It's been going on for a couple of months but, you don't want to tell Chris because you don't want to stress him out.

He's been working on The Grey Man and you want him to focus on his career. Even though he always tells you you're his number 1 priority, the comments are making you think otherwise.

Current Day

You just woke up feeling warmth around you, only it being Chris. Chris is on break from filming his Netflix series and decided to spend it with you.

"Good morning baby" his deep groggily voice said "Good morning babe" you answered. "What do you want to do today?" He asked since y'all had no plans “Can we go to our favorite restaurant for breakfast? Please?" You begged. It's been a while since you've been there together "Yes sure. You can shower first." He agreed.

You got out of bed realizing you were naked. Quickly grabbing the blanket to cover yourself up "Baby you don't have to do that. It's not anything I haven't seen." You turned your face away hiding your blushing face and made your way to the bathroom.

You walked in the bathroom and took the blanket off and you couldn't help but look up in the mirror at yourself. Silently pointing flaws as you looked at your naked body. You tried not to think about the things people would say about your body but with those thoughts were in your mind.

You stepped in the shower and picked up your face wash and started washing your face. As you opened your eyes you let out a squeal when a naked Chris was in front of you. "Babe don't do that, you scared me!" He let out a laugh that made you have butterflies.

"Sorry I just thought to make it fast we should shower together." He said walking closer to you until your back was against the wall. "Um y-yeah we can." You said. Chris tilted your chin up and latched his lips on yours in a slow kiss.

You opened your eyes and looked down to see him stroking his big cock with precum coming out of his tip. You let out a needy whine. "What's wrong? You want something?" You nodded your head only to feel a slap on your cheek. Use your words." He said "I want you Sir." You whined.

"You have me though." He said with a smirk on his face. "I want you to f-fuck me s-sir." You said a little embarrassed but, that all went away when you felt a stretch in your lower abdomen. "Good girl." Chris moaned as he entered you.

The stretch was perfect. He gave you time to adjust since he was so big. No matter how many times ya'll fuck it always feels like it was you're first time. "Please move sir." You begged squirming around. "As you wish." After he said that he started pounding into you.

"S-sir slow down p-please." You said. You didn't expect him to go this fast but, it was Chris Evans for crying out loud. After not getting to see you for months you should have known this is how he would be. "Uh-huh you wanted this so you're gonna take it like a good girl. Right?"

"Yes sir promise I will." Although he was pounding you into space you never said stop. "I'm gonna cum." He said. You started clenching around him and egged him on further. He couldn't hold it anymore. With a grunt and loud moan from you, y'all both came.

"You did so good for me. Such a good girl." He praised you. Besides the pleasure Chris gives you, you loved the praises. Thank you sir." You said "Let's get cleaned up and go to that restaurant."

Y'all took an actual shower and made your way to pick out an outfit. You knew Chris would want to take pictures so you chose something to cover up. You picked out sweat pants and a t-shirt. Chris saw the outfit you picked. "Babe, why are you wearing that? Wear your purple sundress please. You look so beautiful in it."

That made you have a little confidence so you picked it up and put it on. You love the way the dress fits on your waist and off the shoulder, and the flowers with a hint of yellow. It was perfect in yours and Chris's eyes but will it be in the fans?

At The Restaurant

You and Chris made it at the restaurant. You were excited because you haven't been there in almost 3 months. Chris guided you to a table. He pulled out the chair for you "Aw babe you don't have to." You said you were feeling special.

"What do you want to eat?" Chris asked you. "I don't know, maybe a biscuit, no wait for pancakes...No waffles...maybe hash browns-" Chris couldn't help but let out a chuckle at how you were acting. "If you want it we can get it." He said. That made you want to change your mind because you did want to look fat. "Actually I just want 2 pancakes." You said putting the menu to the side.

Chris could read you like a book and could tell something was wrong. "Sweetheart if you want it you can get it all you know?" He assured you. "Okay, I'll get hash browns, waffles, and pancakes." You told him, making him smile. The waiter came over. "Hey, how may I help you?" She said, eyeing Chris "Yeah we want He told her as she wrote the orders down. "Ok I'll be back." she said, winking.

You saw that and it made you feel upset but you didn't want to ruin the mood so you put on a smile. "So how's filming going?" You asked him. "It's going good but I hate being away from you." He told you to grab both of your hands. "Awe it's ok, at least you get to have longer breaks." You told him.

The waiter came back with your drinks and food. "Here you go." She said, placing everything down "Thank you." You both said "If you need anything, call me." she said, only looking at Chris. You saw it but he ignored it looking at you.

You two began eating "Mmm this is so good." Chris moaned "Yes I agree!" You said. As you were eating you could see someone looking at you laughing and making pig noises. You felt like you wanted to cry but turned your attention to Chris.

"So I was thinking maybe we can go to the beach tomorrow." He told you "Umm I don't know I was thinking we could just watch movies." You didn't want to go out in a bikini because you knew Chris would want to take pictures and the fans would get even worse than they already are.

"Um yeah ok." Chris felt like something what's wrong but no matter how many times he asked you he would just say you're fine. You weren't the same person he met a year ago that was happy to go out and wear dresses that reveal a little skin.

Y'all finished your food and told the waiter to bring the check. You two fought for a couple minutes on who's paying the bill with Chris ending up paying for it the waiter came back with the receipt "Imma go to the bathroom real quick."

She looked at your plate and saw you ate everything "Damn was it good fatty?" she said "Excuse me?" You said a little shocked "I said was it good fatty?" She said slower. She wrote something on the receipt and put it in Chris's spot.

Chris came back and picked up the receipt he saw it said 'call me' with a number. He knew it was from the waiter but threw it away. "Are you ready to go?" He asked, pulling the chair from you "Yeah can we go for a walk?" You wanted to go to the park and just destress a little. "Yeah come on.

At the Park

You and Chris made it to the park and sat on the bench "It feels good out here." You said breathing in the fresh air as a breeze came by "Yeah I can agree." Silence took over the 2 of you as y'all had nothing to talk about "Oh babe look at the baby ducks!" You heard Chris say jumping up "Aww they're so cute!" You cooed "Yeah let's take a picture."

The word you were dreading to hear was finally said Picture. You felt as if time slowed down as he took his phone out of his pocket "Come on Babe!" He said smiling. You didn't want to ruin the moment again so you just sucked it up and went to him. "Smile!"

After he took the picture your whole mood changed "Chris can we go home?" You didn't want to be around people anymore. "Y-yeah come on." Chris couldn't help but stutter because of how you were acting.

You NEVER call him Chris like normal unless it's serious. He wanted to know what was wrong. You've been acting like this in person and even when he FaceTimes you. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions but, are you cheating?

At Home

As soon as you got home you went to the bathroom. You just needed another shower except alone. You needed a moment to yourself before you broke down right then and there. Everything hurt and even though he just posted the picture you can see the comments already.

You stepped out of the shower grabbing a towel and drying yourself off. You slept naked so you just went to bed.

You heard the door open, shuffling, felt the bed dip and an arm drape over you. "Goodnight baby I won't be here when you wake up but, I'll be back in 2 weeks." He said kissing your cheek before falling asleep. 'Great just what I need' you thought.

No Chris for 2 weeks was like not eating for 2 weeks. Not Good. This is gonna give his fans time to bully you before turning back to normal. You didn't even notice tears slip down your face until you fell asleep.

You woke up to an empty bed. You picked up your phone and saw all the notifications coming from instagram. You knew what you would see if you clicked on it and even if you didn't want to click on it something just told you too.

Your fingers tapped on it And you instantly saw how Chris' photo was trending but not for the right reason. Comments like 'Why is she wearing that dress?' and 'Chris needs to find a new girlfriend' 'Obviously nobody likes her and Chris is putting on a fake smile.' really got to you.

'Maybe everyone is right.' You thought. You know how busy Chris was being an actor but, what are the odds he doesn't sleep with another woman. There are models, actors, and much more there so, why choose you? You just didn't understand. You then scrolled down and saw a picture of Chris with A/N (Actor Name) with the caption "The Better Couple" and couldn't help but get upset and throw your phone at the wall watching it shatter.

1 week later

Chris POV

I've been trying to call Y/n for a couple of days, but she hasn't been answering. I knew that I couldn't leave mid film but, the director said if we finish all our scenes today we can go home. I've been rushing and yelling at people to get it right because I just want to make sure she's ok.

"CUT! Good job everyone you did good I'll see you in 2 months." The moment he said that I literally ran out to my car. As I was driving I knew I passed the speed limit, but I didn't care. I just wanted to get to Y/n.

I pulled in the driveway and fumbled to open the door. Once I opened it I rushed upstairs, but I heard crying? I slowly opened the door and saw Y/n on the ground crying with tissue everywhere. "Y/n!"

Y/N POV

You didn't hear anything except the sniffles and crying. "Y/n!" You jumped hearing that, but also froze. You knew that voice... He sounded so concerned. You didn't want to turn around "Baby what's all of this?" He said, trying to look at your face.

"Y/n look at me." He said softly. You couldn't ignore that voice. You slowly turned around making eye contact with his face. "Y-y/n why are you c-crying?" He stuttered. You felt bad making him worry and you knew you couldn't hide from him anymore.

"Y-your f-fans." Your shaky voice said. "What do you mean?" He questioned while sitting beside you. "T they have been h-hating on me and they keep saying you need a prettier-" you were cut off "Shut up don't finish that sentence!" He snapped. You understood why he was mad.

"I chose you to be my girlfriend not my 'fans"." He grabbed your face looking in your eyes "I love you. Ok? Don't think about them. I'll deal with them later but, for you.... Get on the bed." He grabbed the end of your shirt and pulled it up revealing the bra he got you on your anniversary. "God you look so good and I haven't even got to your breast." He groaned, unclipping it from the back.

The bra fell on the floor being long forgotten as Chris cupped your breast "Omg darling I haven't even gotten to the best part yet!" He moaned loudly. He brought his mouth to your right nipple, swirling his tongue while massaging your left. "Your breasts are pretty and perky just how I like them." He said switching to the other.

After that he went up to your face and kissed you with much passion. He slowly kissed down your neck leaving hickeys going down to your stomach, stopping at the waistband of your shorts. "May I love?" He asked for permission "Yes." You don't remember the last time y'all made love, usually it's rough, but tonight is different.

He pulled down your shorts along with your panties slowly taking in your features from your beautiful puffy pussy. "Omg you're gonna make me cum in my boxers baby. You're so beautiful." He nibbled and kissed on your inner thigh.

He went to your clit and started licking around it. He didn't want to rush. Slowly he licked up and down making sure to apply little pressure. He went down to your slit humming at the taste of you "You taste so sweet!" He said making your cheeks heat up.

He used his fingers to spread your lips apart observing you. "So wet." He mumbled. Not wasting any time he dived in your wet core slowly licking from your slit to your clit.

You closed your eyes because of the pleasure "No baby open your pretty eyes, I want you to look at me as I devour you." He said hoisting your legs over his shoulders so he could eat you out and reach deeper.

His fingers pressing on your clit as he slipped his tongue into you, pressing his lips so close to you so you could feel his beard rubbing on your thighs

You were unable to stop moaning his name and gripping his hair so fucking tight because he was fucking you so good with his tongue and using his mouth perfectly.

Your moaning makes him feel better and way more confident so he'd moan so you could feel vibration into you and you could feel his smirk against your core.

"C-chris I-" you tried to tell him "I know, I know go ahead. Let me see you unravel beautifully." You tighten your legs around his head while saying it.

"Cum for me, princess." He watched as your orgasm took over because he loved the way you looked when you orgasmed, the way your body shivered and your fingers gripped his hair so tight and the way you breathlessly yelled his name, enjoying watching the way only he could make you feel.

You came seeing white not being able to process anything. "Good girl." Chris said slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you to get you down from your high.

Chris took all his clothes off and leaned over you and you tried to grab his cock. "No no this isn't about me love, it's about you." He said pushing you on your back. He pulled your legs apart and entered you with a groan. "God you're so tight!"

He rested his arm above you so he wouldn't squish you. Even though you thought you were big, Chris could put you up with ease "Look at me." He said, grabbing your chin softly.

He began softly moving his hips "I want you to know your beautiful." He then brought his finger down your clit. He knew that would drive you faster to your organism "You wanna cum? Hmm?" He said snapping his hips faster.

All you could do was nod "Tell me 3 things you like about your body." That threw off your whole mood but was brought back by him pounding faster "Go on say it." He pressured you "M-m-y H-hair." You stuttered "Yeah? I like your hair too, you wanna know why?" He questioned not losing speed "Because I can pull it back when I am pounding you to sleep and it's so pretty. Fans wish they had your hair." He ran his hands through it.

He pulled out putting you on top of him into a cowgirl position. "Tell me something else." He said, guiding your hips up and down "T-th-highs" You answer "Ah I like your thighs too you wanna know why?" He started pounding in you making, clapping noises echo around the room. "I love the way they suffocate me when you sit on my face and I eat you out." He told you to make you more red than you already were.

He grabbed you putting your back against his

stomach grabbing your face to look in his eyes "I want you to cum for me. If you love me you'll cum for me." He said pounding even harder that even "C Chris p-ple-" you were cut off by cumming. Your whole body shook as you came, not being able to register anything.

"Good girl. You did so well." He said slowing down just to flip you on your side into spooning. He rubbed his cock up and down your slit "C-chrisss." You whine from sensitivity "Shhh baby give me one more." He said entering you. He wanted a position that would let y'all lay there with pleasure.

He started off slow making sure not to overstimulate you too much. You just laid there limp, you didn't have any energy to say or do anything "C-cum in m-me pl pease." You begged. You felt bad for not letting Chris cum 3 times. "If you insist." He said pounding into you hard.

You clenched around him squeezing him so hard he let out a groan "God do that again please baby." You did it again "Fuck your gonna take my cum and make a beautiful baby. It's gonna piss the fans off." He said cumming.

Y'all laid there for a second catching your breaths. He got up and grabbed a washcloth and slowly cleaned you up. "Shh it's ok baby." He said as you whined. Once cleaned he laid down with you with your head in his chest "Thank you Chris." Your voice was groggy and scratchy from screaming "Don't thank me. You know I love you and I promise by 2 days the fans will be off you. I just wish you told me sooner." He admitted

"I know I didn't want to stress you out." You reasoned "Baby you know you're my number 1 priority. I don't care about anything or anyone except my family and your part of that." you both said good night and fell asleep.

For the first time in months you felt good sleeping.

#chris evans #chris evans angst #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans imagine #cevans #lloyd hansen #chris evans x fluff

[mars-is-me7]

man, i have so many thoughts about qfoolish. he's just a silly little goofy guy but then when you peel away the first layer that you see of him and realize that he's rather a complex character. I feel like he's such a different type of character than what is usually shown. (and honestly, it's something that brings me a lot of comfort as i relate quite heavily to his very laid back nature that people will sometimes take as being unserious or even uncaring) Warning, this gets long (like 2.2k long to be exact) lol and i ramble a lot- also, disclaimer for my own sanity: this is an analysis of the characters! i adore any of the creatures mentioned here so please don't take any of this as a negative view on them! :D

Foolish's motivations are just very different than what typically motivates a character forward and in some sense it's really easy to skew what you think about him. As in, it's really easy to misinterpret his character i think. He express himself in a different way than i think most people are used to. He laughs in serious situations and is constantly just joking around. I think this causes people to think he cant/wont ever be serious, but the thing is that he's perfectly capable of being serious when he needs to be. For example, if he thinks that he and Leo are going into a serious situation, then he tells her to put her armor on. Really, just anything involving Leo he makes sure to be serious if the situation calls for it. Or like, fighting in dungeons only if he deems it dangerous enough to take seriously. but like, if he doesn't think a situation calls for it, then he just continues to be his goofy self. And sometimes when the situation calls for it, he is just in between those two points in a way that others aren't. He's just not afraid to joke around even when the situation seems dire (cellbit's kidnapping and rescue comes to mind. like, he played such a large role with his symmetry wand, but despite all the serious moments going on,, he was still just a goofy guy).

And one thing about him being so silly all the time is that even the other members on the island sometimes get a misconstrued picture of what they think foolish's goal and wants are. I think in some sense it's true to say that what motivates his wants is what the value of something he perceives is. For example, the sunbird he only wanted because of how cool it sounded and how rare it was. The cloud he wants because its something unique and useful. He wants Cucurucho's friendship because that's something no one else has and Cucurucho has access to items and is powerful.

But these wants aren't the most necessarily the most important things to him. Their something he has interest in, yes, but they're not more important than say his friends and family. Which, i feel like some people might not recognize about him. After all, he is constantly talking about wanting a cloud or how he'd have no issue in killing Bad (and holy shit is landduo and their relation something i could go on about for a whole more hour cuz there's so much there)

Because one vital thing that's so *so* important to recognize is that Foolish is very possibly one of the most loyal people on the island. And despite all of his flaws, he would never really want to truly hurt those he cares about. He is loyal to the people he cares about to an absurd amount. I think it's very clear to see his devotion for Vegetta and his adoration for Leo, but his loyalty also applies to his friends on the island. He would never *intentionally* want to harm anyone he cares about. I don't think some people understand that Mr. Mustard fell under that category as someone he cared about. The entire reason Cucurucho was able to lure him into accepting the mission It gave him is because it brought Mr. Mustard's name into the mix. It told Foolish that Pac and Mike were the ones responsible, and with nothing better to do, Foolish set out to complete this task.

To talk more about the recent events with him arresting Tazercraft: he would never truly want to harm or hurt them. However, when you're looking at the grand scheme of how things went down, he was manipulated and really had no other choice. Sure, he seemed to enjoy arresting them at first, but the thing is I don't think he really processed or even thought about how this action would be received by others. To him, arresting Pac and Mike sounded like enough fun, and it was coming from Cucurucho (who he's wanting to be friends with for actual months now, and Cucurucho literally called him friend in the book it handed to him) and being arrested sounded like something he'd enjoy. Again, like something *he'd* enjoy and that he therefore thought Pac and Mike would enjoy.

You have to realize, Foolish doesn't have the same perspective on these serious situations as some others do. And the thing is that he judges how others react based on how he would react to them. So, in that sense, he views being kidnapped/arrested as a good and fun thing! he even said today on stream, "apparently when you arrest someone, others won't find it funny". it might have just been one line, but in my eyes this gives a really clear insight into his character. To him, arresting Pac and Mike was only a positive thing because it would help him find his friend and it could be a fun event for them. His friend that he was told, by cucurucho, that had disappeared because of Pac and Mike. Foolish doesn't hold any ill intent, but that doesn't necessarily come across in others view of him. Although it might not be clear, he cares about Pac and Mike. Today he even expressed worries about them and said that he still considers them his friends (even though he's aware that they might not share those feelings about him anymore). He doesn't know about their past traumas, to him this was just a fun little event that would be fun for both them and him. When first accepting Cucurucho's mission to him, I'd say he doesn't realize the consequences his actions would have. That by arresting Pac and Mike, it'd leave the other members of the server doubting him and mistrusting him. That others would be angry at him for something that he hadn't realized the gravity of.

(just random thing i want to say here: honestly, if Foolish had any malicious intent towards Tazercraft, he could have easily made their arrest go unnoticed for at least a few days. just think about it: if he had said that the surprise he had was just for the two of them. if Jaiden hadn't accompanied them as a witness. people wouldn't of known then what happened to them, but the thing is that he wasn't thinking in this way because he would never seriously want to harm them. he even wanted Jaiden there as a witness)

I think he realized the backlash of his actions in the Favela when everyone seemed to swarm him and then when he got interrogated. In which, he never really lied. All things considered, Foolish is a rather honest guy. I'd even say that he almost never lies. Like, if he's trying to hide the truth about something, he often times will find a way to skirt around the question without lying. Like, just looking at the mess that was the interrogation yesterday (/lh) you can see that he doesn't ever actually lie. He just blabbers a bunch of nonsense and skirts around the issue without ever revealing anything. The issue arises when you look at the lie he did tell.

for those that don't know, Foolish gave Jaiden a rundown of what happened before arresting Tazercraft. and in this he tells her that Cucurucho gave him the option to either 'arrest Pac and Mike' or to 'kill Richarlyson'. Not even going to lie, when he said this is took me (and i think all of stream) off guard. because Foolish practically never lies in that way and so blatantly. because this was just 100% untrue. However, it makes sense why he did it. At that point, he realized that people were going to keep badgering him on why he arrested Pac and Mike, but at the same time he knew they wouldn't take him telling the truth seriously. He may care about Mr. Mustard but the truth is that the other members don't hold those same thoughts towards most the Capybaras in general. Like, just look at Fit's interaction with him today. Foolish literally reiterated the truth of why he did it over and over again, but Fit didn't believe him even slightly. Foolish didn't lie once about his motivations and yet he was just not believed.

I think he realized at some point soon after arresting Pac and Mike that people weren't going to trust the truth. Not from his mouth at least. So he lied to Jaiden because it's a lie that people will easily understand. it's a choice they'd stop questioning him about. Again, he doesn't do this out of malicious intent but because it's something easier for people to understand and relate to. It's something they're not going to hound him about, not like they will when he tells them the truth. This lie is more easily digestible for the island members and it also brings Foolish less stress if they take this and believe it. Everyone is willing to make sacrifices in order to protect the eggs. And he had to of realized that Jaiden was going to tell other people. The islanders almost always spread these types of details to each other, that's just how it goes. Telling this lie to her in secret makes it all that more believable when she goes and tells some of the others about it later cuz it's something Foolish told her in confidentiality. To the other members, it paints foolish only in a good light. Of course he wouldn't have actually wanted to arrest Pac and Mike, he did it to protect Richas! and that's all it takes to stop them from getting angry at him. All things considered, it's a smart move to pull. Although, I do have to wonder how this will come to bite foolish in the butt. Because i can only imagine that it will be revealed eventually, some way or another.

From what i understood, Cellbit immediately dropped his anger on Foolish once he was told it was to protect Richarlyson. When Jaiden tells him this information he doesn't even thing to consider that Foolish could have lied. After all, why reason would anyone have to lie about that? In my mind, i can only imagine that the lie will protect him for now and in the short term, but once revealed that it's a lie, i think there will be some repercussions against Foolish for sure. Like, even Jaiden doesn't know that he's lied. Jaiden, whom he's been telling everything about. Jaiden who is only one (aside from Leo) who now knows of Foolish's secret detective role. Jaiden, whose the one he's told almost the entire truth to.

An interesting thing to note though, is that I think Foolish's decision to lie to Jaiden was still rather spontaneous. like, it's not something he thought too much about. it's a fib that makes his life a little bit easier (a little bit less lonely) and right now it doesn't seem to hold any repercussions. the interesting thing, though, is that he hasn't repeated the lie at any point in time. and like, he also hasn't done any lying to reinforce the lie he's told. it'd be so easy to paint a story that he's being blackmailed, but he just *doesn't* even though it's a lie he's made himself.

Foolish, all in all, is someone that just acts or speaks before really thinking too much about what he's doing. About the possible side affects of his actions. He just *does* them.

I think it also plays in very well with the idea that he's lived for thousands of years. the things that affect the typical mortal just don't phase him in the same way, not when he's viewing everything as an adventure or an element that is fun. i think that also taking into consideration that he's lived for such a long time, it's rather surprising how easy he is to manipulate. Because that is what Cucucrucho is doing, when looking at the whole picture. cucurucho holds a lot of power and we all know that it easily could have arrested Pac and Mike without the intervention of Foolish. So why make him do it anyways?

Well we don't know that for sure, but we can make some guesses. To sow distrust between the members. To see how far Foolish was actually able and willing to go for the Federation. To place blame on someone aside from itself. All possibilities.

Regardless, Foolish has played right into their hands. He's a silly guy that's gotten himself into a serious situation. One in which he might end up having to navigate alone because even though he has Jaiden he's still lied to her, and even though he has Leo, he would never want to put his daughter into harms way. He said something at the end of the stream about how this might just end up being a lonely road he's taking and i couldn't agree more.

Anyways, that's all i got for tonight as it's late and idk what im getting at here, i just think Foolish is really neat and wanted to attempt to put that into words. :D

#qsmp #mars rambles #foolish gamers #qsmp rambles #does this make any sense? im not sure #but i needed to write something because the foolish brainrot is real #character study #also this is just my thoughts so far and they might not be the most eloquent so sorry #also! i would love to hear if anyone else has any other ideas and interpretations of things :D #theres more i wanted to add but i could only write so fast unfortunately so i forgot some things i mightve been thinking #im really excited to see where the storyline takes foolish #and to see if he ends up digging his own grave :D

[murasaki-cha]

So I read Serena.... wow. I'm gonna make a long post expressing my opinions because THERE ARE A LOT!! (there's pictures too!)

These are going to be just my thoughts and how I understood the story + characters so if anyone disagrees, sorry but our vibes don't match, please don't come at me.

Now first of all can they adopt me??

Ok going to be serious here (not for long) this manhwa is so good!! I have read another manhwa of Ina-nim, the author/artist, called "Black Winter" (it's amazing go check it out) so I knew this was going to have layers upon layers as a story. AND IT DID!!

The story is so complex, everyone is scheming something, no one says the full truth and you never know when you might get stabbed in the back.

I'm going to be honest, I've known about Serena since it came out and I didn't want to read it. Not because I thought the story was bad or anything, since I knew how great this author is already thanks to their previous story, but because I knew it was going to be messy. Super messy. And it is, it is a hot dumpster fire mess. And I didn't really want to deal with it since it would have been exhausting and I would have dropped it or put it on hold. But by now (chapter 72 as of the latest update) I think that it has become more "stable" to say and I found it easier to enjoy the story since I read it in one go.

I particularly loved that none of the characters were good. No one. But no one is exactly bad either. Everyone here is just gray, they're flawed, they do bad stuff, they hurt each other. No one is right or wrong. We see things form their perspective and we see their reasoning but whether we sympathise with them is up to us because, let's be real, even their thought process can be fucked up at times.

Besides Victor. Victor is pure evil. If we throw holy water at Victor he will start melting. Victor should be burned.

Now moving along let's talk about the main characters.

Starting with Serena. First of all MOTHER!!🛐-

Now Serena is the type of fl I expected to get lots of hate(and she did). She had a lover while she was married, she was way too stubborn, she thinks she's better than everyone, etc. And yeah she did all those things. She's also a very traumatised little girl who had her entire world shattered at the age of 17, had to marry a stranger and feel her worth slip through her fingers. Serena is constantly paranoid due to her past experiences and the way she's been treated. She's desperately grasping for whatever little power she can have in the begining.

Now that is not to say she's never done anything wrong. Her using Fredrick as merely a way to destress and a shield, her prejudice against Eiser simply because of his family, her thinking she deserves to be in charge even if she is unexperienced simply because she is a Serenity, her refusing to see anything from anyone's perspective but hers. She's too prideful, too stubborn, too guarded.

But she's a great businesswoman, she takes her tasks seriously and she's super intelligent. The moment she started working on the hotel she changed because she was finally in her element. That spoiled, angry Serena in the beginning was simply what the isolation had done to her, the way it had fundamentally changed her. She started seeing everything in a new light when she started learning how to manage the hotel and being more open minded while still being guarded. Serena is a perfect morally gray main character, she's flawed, she's human.

Next we have Eiser. DADDY-

I swear I'm not being biased when I say I loved Eiser SO MUCH! First things first, he is an asshole. Not gonna sugar coat it. In fact that is the sugar coating. He is quite possibly the most secretive man alive, we know exactly 3 things about his past in the last 72 chapters and I'm not even being sarcastic, that's the total amount. And that is probably what makes him so interesting as a character to me at least.

One of my favorite things about Eiser was that he didn't have any feelings about Serena in the beginning. Yeah he mostly saw her as a means to an end and felt a smidge of responsibility because of her brother, but that was it. He honestly did not care about what Serena did or thought. Eiser's only objective is to save Serenity hotel, probably fuck up his family along the way because screw them and the rest is an enigma. He doesn't do feelings, not anymore at least.

We learn from the beginning that he's not a "good guy", he's not Male Lead™ that's mean to fl to protect her or to not get close to her and his whole world revolves around her etc. He's not just this guy meant to be a love interest, he's a whole other well constructed character. He has his own goals (which we never know what they are because his thought's are more secretive and guarded than the Vatican Apostolic Archives), he follows the most efficient way to achieve those goals and that's all that matters to him. He recognized Serena's skills all along yet still thought of her as a spoiled little princess because he didn't care about knowing her, didn't need to, that wasn't going to help him.

There really isn't much development about Eiser aside his relationship with Serena (but that's a talk about further below), but that's kind of on point for him. Unlike Serena, Eiser has been doing business for years now, he knows how to run things, he knows how to work with people, he has experience and skill and friends (surprisingly). Eiser's role is more of a mentor for Serena than as someone who also needs to learn.

And last Frederick (gonna hide behind a chair real quick)

Don't come at me for this but to be 100% honest, Frederick was as interesting to me as a white sheet of paper. Most of the time he was just there. That's it. Look the man is mysterious I agree and his character would have been so so interesting but he literally gave me nothing. I swear I'm being unbiased, even if Eiser didn't exist this man would have done nothing to impact me as a reader. But I think that shows how important or how much impact he made to Serena's story.

Frederick is interesting in the fact that we don't know his role in the story. He says he's doing everything to help Serena yet will that make him an antagonist or not is yet to be revealed. Also Frederick isn't even his name??? so there's that. Unlike the first two, he appears too few times and we don't really know what's up with him. So far he has made it his main objective and like basically his personality to protect Serena from his employers.

I liked that it showed he came here with impure intentions and his own goals but ultimately he just made his entire world revolve around keeping Serena safe and that kind of bumped me. The most interesting thing about him so far right now is the mystery of his past (who he killed, what's his true identity) and whether he'll be an antagonist by the end or not.

And now we move to the most dreaded thing. The romance.

I'm gonna say it straight up, Serena x Eiser for the win. Enemies to lovers has gone and done it again and by god did I EAT IT UP!! They were mother and father fr!!

Now let me express my opinions on both couples here with actual words.

First I want to talk about Serena and Frederick. From the beginning this story did not have a love triangle, at least for me. Serena and Frederick always looked like a relationship born out of necessity (which Serena later on confirms that that's what it might have been all along). Serena craved for whatever warmth and protection she could get and Frederick became kind of a safe place for her. She essentially used Frederick as a distraction, a means of relaxation and someone to just vent. She never properly saw him as his own person or equal but as a means of escape from her struggles.

Meanwhile Frederick himself didn't exactly love Serena in a pure way. He loves her yes, but he's also obsessed with her. He feels the need to make her need him so he can stay by her side. He wants to be the only one seeing her weak and vulnerable, caging her and himself in this relationship. And the only way he knows she will be by his side is if she uses him. And the more Serena takes charge of things as head of Serenity and builds herself up, the more Frederick notices that she's slipping away from him so he desperately clings to the mission of protecting her from his employer. He even admits these himself:

Perhaps they did have something beautiful in the beginning but it slowly developed into a relationship that caged them both.

Now sit down because I'm gonna be talking about mommy and daddy (I unironcally call them that no I'm not joking) and this talk is going to be a loooong one *cracks knuckles*

Serena and Eiser were never the picture perfect couple, furthest thing from it and they were not planning on trying to change that anytime soon. They were toxic, they hurt each other and they didn't care about each other. To Eiser, Serena was just the girl he was supposed to marry to save Serenity and to Serena, Eiser was the man that took Serenity and might kill her in the future. None of them saw each other in a good light and none of them bothered to understand the other. Eiser was completely indifferent towards Serena and Serena just wanted to hurt him. Off to a great start because they were already at rock bottom so the only way to go is up!

The way their relationship developed was really natural and well paced. Everyone knows that the beauty of a good enemies to lover is the slowburn AND THE SLOWBURN WAS SLOWBURNING HERE LEMME TELL YOU! They first needed to see each other in a new lighting as equal business partners to go any further into their relationship or start trusting each other. They're both very calculative people and Eiser did see that, has always seen that, so he resulted to manipulating Serena into "competing" with him to give her the chance to properly work in the hotel. And Serena took the bait but never played right into the palm of his hand and always took charge of things her own way.

It was important for them to recognize each other's full capabilities, not just with the veil of "Grayan" or "Spoiled little princess". Most importantly it was essential for Serena to see that Eiser is in fact truly helping her family without any ulterior motives (that are harmful to her family at least) and never had any plans of taking over and eliminating her. And while Eiser was always aware of Serena's abilities and respected her as an individual, he always too disinterested in her to see how fully capable she is. One of the funniest things in my opinion was how Eiser was showering Serena with praises in his head 24/7 yet verbally he would break out in hives before complimenting her. (Istg the communication in this household died back in that carriage with Serena's family)

And that was the biggest wall that blocked them from going further with their relationship, so as soon as that was gone, well would you look at that, they can actually get along just fine and decently! And the romance just came along to them naturally.

Eiser was always drawn to Serena since he first saw her, he was always intrigued by her actions even if that left him puzzled. He always read people for his benefit, but Serena simply caught his eye every time by pure curiosity. He enjoys seeing her expressions and reactions and her journey to rising to her rightful place. Plus, Eiser always felt a kind of kinship with Serena. He saw the loss, betrayal and devastation in her and recognized it as the same as his own. The fight Serena put all these years to try and keep her place and protect what's hers is what he wished he had done all those years back and what someone had done for him when he was at his lowest. It was only after he truly got to know Serena that all these feelings started to subconsciously transform into something else, something even he isn't truly aware of.

Serena surprised me by being the first one to recognize(?), in a way, she had fallen but I'm not complaining, it was beautiful. Serena's main problem with Eiser was that she couldn't trust him, for very obvious reasons, that mans true thoughts are locked in a safe inside a safe inside another safe that happens to be inside a warehouse in Antarctica. I think the most important thing for Serena was to get to realize that Eiser was trying to truly help her family and the hotel. To me there were 3 major moments where Serena's feelings for Eiser changed: When they went to visit President Harol's mansion and he took the peaches and also defended her, when he said he'll build another hotel by the seaside during their date and when he told her he didn't hate her. All these moment helped Serena see that she had made a wrong assumption about Eiser and even though that wasn't enough to dispel all her suspicions towards him, rightfully so because Serena isn't an idiot, it made her trust him a bit more and be more comfortable around him.

Also their backstory, with Eiser being Serena's "prince" was so freaking cute. And the way she always looked for him when she went to those masquerade parties as a way of comfort, sobbing on the floor. If you go back and reread, you'll see that Serena has always been conscious of Eiser from the very start, albeit subconsciously. She always described him touching her like "The spot where he touched burned even after he had let go", or how she was conscious of being dressed "thinly" in front of Eiser but never in front of anyone else, not even Frederick. In my opinion, she had recognised Eiser as the masked prince at the time or knew subconsciously, but because of the animosity between him and her prejudice against him because he was a Grayan, she didn't want to admit it because that would admit that Eiser was anything but a simple marriage and business partner to her.

And now with the release of chapter 72, I am dreading the road in which their relationship is heading and how far back it may devolve. Like I don't blame Eiser because 1) he doesn't know about Serena's trauma 2) he saw red after seeing the way that man was hurting his wife I support the Grayan in him taking over at that moment. But unfortunately for Serena he just proved her greatest fear when it came to him, that he's still very much a Grayan no matter how much he despises them. Her reliving her childhood trauma and seeing Victor in Eiser could revert her to earlier Serena where she was always paranoid and scared of Eiser, but now with proof that he is in fact just as dangerous as she thought him to be. Worse thing is, she can't even go to Fredrick for comfort because she's suspicious of him too so she's truly alone (she has Sui but Sui was there before too and we saw the state in which Serena was in back than). This is a very complicated and simply put shit situation for them, it could possibly be one of their roughest patches in their entire relationship and it's going to take understanding from both Eiser and Serena to get over it and possibly, hopefully, truly trust each other after this. Please Ina-nim please I'm putting my trust in you!! (Ina-nim played us all like a cheep kazoo with chapter 72 like I could not have been more wrong and thank fuck for that! Never have I been so happy to be so incredibly wrong about something! War is over people cheered everyone cried tears of joy!!)

And lastly, thank you for coming to my ted talk, this entire post was just a way for me to vent all the thoughts this webtoon gave me and If you read it, good for you, I love you. As a reward have this collage of chibi mommy and daddy being silly goofy because my chosen career path requires me to have adobe illustrator and I never use it responsibly

#serena #selena #serena webtoon #serena manhwa #serena serenity #eiser leinz grayan #frederick bloom #serena x eiser #manhwa memes #manhwa #webtoon

[rosey100]

Remembering the post I did a few months ago

Now I just mixed half of Bride of Chucky and my OCs(Rose and Artter) Ssooooooooo

All the villains are just confused about this

Villains belong to @kazzykatt

#wild kratts #wild kratts oc #digital art #drawing #rose kratt #artter rossnick #wk rotter #their like the Fu€k man now #please don't mind the little flaws in the picture

[twolizardsinacoat-writing]

HAIR

feral animal noises

okay okay hear me out right. The (I think Norse but I'm not sure) thing where short hair means servitude (please correct me if I'm wrong)

Now, think All Might. Toshinori was a wild child before he met Nana. Orphan kid possibly living on the streets when not in school and with no one to demand he keep himself neat because I think everyone during his time was more focused on not dying than some little boy showing up to school disobeying the dress code with his long and unruly hair.

Toshinori meets Nana and allows her to clean him up a little. Tame his hair, shorten it a little so it's easier to manage. He doesn't mind. Nana takes care of him. Nana believes in him. He would do anything for Nana.

Nana dies in his second year. Toshinori lets his hair grow out again, spiraling and throwing himself into hero training.

He graduates. He's a hero now. Heroes don't let themselves look wild and crazy. Their suits are colorful and neat. Their hair is perfectly styled. America inspires him. He becomes the picture of perfection.

He returns to Japan. He becomes the Number One hero. His hair is perfectly styled, cropped short to the nape of his neck and slicked back or up. Perfect, a display of his devotion to hero society. What a joy it is to be of service to others!

All For One catches up to him, eventually. He dies but leaves his mark. Imperfect. Toshinori is imperfect and he can't stand it. Can't stand the withering, rotting sight of himself in the mirror. Can't stand the messy hair and the disgusting scar.

He tries. He tries so hard to make himself still seem perfect. Keeps his hair short and styles it in his larger form. Desperately clings to every wisp of One For All.

He forgets to keep cutting it when he meets Izuku. He forgets to keep cutting it after fighting All For One again in Kamino Ward. All Might dies that day, as does Toshinori's need to be perfect, which he never will be again.

With the League of Villains, with the collapse of hero society, he notices the flaws he overlooked. He notices the way he was one of the only things holding everything together. So blinded by his devotion that he didn't realize there was no one helping as much as he was.

His hair grows out. He doesn't need to cut it anymore. He isn't Perfect All Might anymore.

#my hero academia #all might #yagi toshinori #toshinori yagi #angst #symbolism? #idk where I was going with this

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for April 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ and so I have to say (before I go) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [M, 27k, Harry/Louis]

Sometimes falling in love is taking a leap of faith, jumping into the unknown with your eyes closed, hoping someone will be there to catch you.

Sometimes falling in love is seeing the person in front of you, all their flaws and imperfections, and taking that leap nonetheless.

Sometimes it's both.

In Louis' and Harry's case, it's both.

＊ Pathema Proteleia by @persephoneflouwers [M, 53k, Louis/Harry]

A few years ago, Omega Prince Harry left his husband and mate Alpha Louis without any apparent reason. When enemies of the Royalty make an attempt on his life and threaten to hurt Omegas, Louis has to ask the Prince for help.

Or The Greek Tragedy AU (but with the happiest ending).

＊ I Want You Here With Me (Like How I Pictured It) by @enchantedlandcoffee [G, 345 words, Harry/Louis]

"I just- Everyone was there and- and they were all happy and in love and I just- I needed to get out of there, Lou." Harry sniffled, wrapping his coat closer to himself as he trudged down the street. "It's not fair. It's not fair that they all get to be happy and in love and have their partners with them when I can't be with you."

OR The one where Harry misses Louis

＊ A Frail Farewell by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings [M, 11k+, wip, Louis/Harry]

Louis can’t believe his luck when he is offered one of the easiest jobs he has had as a long-term house-sitter for the wealthy. He loves the money, and the peace and quiet of the empty mansions he looks after. Most of all he likes that there are no surprises until he gets the shock of his life from ex-pop star Harry Styles who isn’t supposed to be home.

＊ tell me what the hell we're feeling (if you don't do feelings) by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [M, 4k, Harry/Louis]

Harry is getting over a breakup. Louis doesn't date. Neither of them is interested in a relationship -- but they are interested in each other's bodies. It takes a global pandemic for them to admit that maybe there's more than just lust between them.

＊ April Drools! by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [E, 1k, Louis centric ot 5 pairings]

Louis offers a particularly slobbery blow job to his clients who'd rather not be made a fool of on April 1st. Of course, he's got an option for those who don't mind being a little humiliated as well. Part 12 of Glory Hole-idays

＊ I'm Praying (that you don't burn out or fade away) by @lululawrence [NR, 74k, Louis/Harry]

“Louis,” Harry breathed happily. His smile widened as he realized he’d finally found him, and he was stood before his soulstar. This was the closest they’d been in 31 Earth years, which had felt extraordinarily long for Harry, even in his star form. He could hardly withhold his happiness at seeing him again.

“Erm, yeah,” Louis said, interrupting Harry’s thoughts with his brows furrowing and looking clearly suspicious. “And you are?”

Harry and Louis are literal stars who have known they were soulmates from their creation eons ago, however when Louis came to Earth to start the next phase of their fated future, he forgot everything. Even Harry.

This leaves Harry to break the rules and instead of waiting for Louis to call him and join him on Earth, he crashes down on his own. Without Louis there to guide him and help him learn how to adjust to having a human body and everything associated with that, Harry has no other choice but to do the best he can.

As Harry tries to correct what has gone wrong, he finds that friendship can be a light even in the darkest night, and through those bonds even separated soulstars can find their fated path once more.

＊ Love Like This by @reminiscingintherain [E, 32k, Zayn/Louis/Liam]

A Zouiam RWRB AU, featuring Louis as the First Son, Liam as the Prince, and Zayn as Liam's friend and equerry. With appearances from Lottie as Louis' helpful sister, Harry as his best friend, and Niall as Liam's golf instructor (or gardener? or something else?).

＊ Ghost of a Name by @signofcomfort [G, 35k, Louis/Harry]

Louis leaves the band in the middle of the tour and drops off the face of the earth. Five years later, they might have a chance to meet him. Harry can finally have some answers and tell the truth for the first time.

- Podfics -

＊ Finally, You and I (Collide) by @lululawrence read by @podfic-pals [NR, 14k, Zayn/Louis]

Funny how Louis could sum up everything he’d had with Zayn so easily.

Ex. One syllable, two letters. Fourteen years of friendship and marriage and everything else they had been to each other, put together and explained to anyone who asked with that one tiny word. Ex. Ex-Best Friend. Ex-Lover. Ex-Husband. Ex-everything, really. Zayn had truly become his everything, and Louis still ached in the spaces within that used to be filled by him, even all these years later.

Sometimes love was a bitch.

Or the five times Louis was accidentally wooed by cookies and the one time he was purposefully wooed by brownies.

#28th appreciation #hlcreators #hljournal #hltracks #1dficvillage #trackinghappily #trackinghome #tracksintheam #ficsfor4am #cristalreads

[bewitchingivy]

Pick A Card: A Letter From A Past Life Lover

Welcome to another pick a card of mine! As someone who keeps on writing (unsent) letters, these kinds of readings are very fun to do. Anyways, the letters are not the actual things that they wrote in your past lives, I just channeled their messages and tried the best that I could to write it in their words. These letters could be from any romantic interest or partner you had in a past life—these were either unsent, unread, or you've read them before but you're meant to read them now again in this life. Now this is a general past life reading, some messages are related about a past life of yours, some are for others. So take it with a grain of salt! I'll probably make a part two of this...what do you think?

CW: one of these piles includes death, so if you ever come across it, please read at your own risk.

methods used in this reading: intuition, music, with a bit of tarot.

☽ MASTERLIST ☾

࿐ DISCLAIMERS:

Tarot or any forms of divination is not set in stone. It's not your only future, but a probable one with the current energy you have right now. If a reading doesn't resonate, simply let it fly away and shift your energy. Because you can change your reality, and you have the undeniable power to do so.

Please keep in mind that my readings are for entertainment, positive, or inspirational purposes only. Please don't take them as a professional or medical advice. Any actions or decisions taken are your responsibility.

The images I use in my blog are not mine unless I say so. The pictures belong to their respectful owners.

Now intuitively choose a picture below (preferably one, but if it doesn't resonate, feel free to choose again)

ONE

My dear angel,

From the first time I saw you, I was mesmerized and bewitched by you—your beauty, your talents, and everything that you do. You didn't notice me first, and though it may sound strange, all I ever did before was admiring you from afar. I honestly believed that was all I could do, and it would have been if it hadn't for my friend who aided me in bringing out the courage to finally approach you. As much as Ioathe to admit it, I was a little bit nervous and intimidated. Who wouldn't be—when everyone sees you as this skillful prodigy and each and everyone of us respects you? You exude this unique aura that screams power. Everyone looked up to you, even myself. Back to our first conversation, you haven't had the slightest idea of how much it wracked my nerves. But much to my surprise, you made me feel at ease. We were like old friends who hadn't seen each other for ages. The more I got to know you, I noticed how much we have in common. I used to see you as this person who was perfect in every possible way. But it was then I realized that you were just as much a flawed human as I am. The more I acknowledge those things about you, the more I fell in love of who you truly are. You taught me so much knowledge that I value, but if there's one most crucial lesson that you taught me it would be that nothing and no one is perfect in this world. Especially myself. Since then I felt free. Free from everyone's expectations that weighed me down for as long as I can remember. All that matters to me now is to at least strive to become a better person day by day. For you, for me, and for our future. Thank you for that.

Yours,

(signed by their name)

Some facts about them: they're helpful and quite generous, someone who earned a reputation and a bit of fame to their name, awkward, introverted, an empath, their soul might be looking for you in this lifetime and you might meet together again, could be a soulmate.

Other things I channeled: gardens, prodigy, mansion, a group of academics.

NOTE: I kept getting heaven or angel when I started channeling, I figured that's what they used to call you.

Shufflemancy, songs that may resonate: (i fuckin love these songs)

Thank you for taking your time to read this and for liking and reblogging my posts! Please take the time as well to research for more information and educate yourselves about climate change. Let's get together and help the earth 🧚🏼‍♀ Sending much light <3

- Ivy

TWO

CW: death, and... much angst :D

My dearest (name that you had in that past life),

I've had everything I could ever want. I was the happiest woman/man in the world, for you were mine and I was yours. But why did it have to end that way? Why did God have to take you away from me all of a sudden? What have I done to deserve this? Heaven could've shown us mercy, gave us more time, but no, we didn't have that. I was happy. We were happy. One could say we were happier than anyone else. But all of that was gone in a blink of an eye, as if it never happened in the first place.

I grieve that you're nowhere with me. I don't know what to do with myself. I'm at lost, and I doubt anyone else could find me again but you. I only want to be found by you. Please come back to me, (name). Please. That's all I could ever ask for. Am I selfish for asking that? I figure your soul must be resting now in somewhere better but in this cruel world. But as for me; I can't rest, I can't sleep. I don't think I can go on a day without you.

We're so young, and I feel like we've already gone so much than anyone else has. We haven't done all the things we wanted to do. Our dreams unreachable. Would you expect me to fulfill them still even when you're not around? How am I supposed to do that?

I'm sorry, (name). But I don't think I'll ever be the same person now. I can't imagine to go back being happy and smiling when you're not here. I don't think I can manage living in a world without you in it. I'm sorry if I'll ever lose my light. Now that you're gone, I feel as if I've lost a great part of me. It's like I'm losing myself. What am I without you, (name)? I can only wish and imagine that these words will reach you. I will still love you immensely with all my heart, body, and soul.

— (signed by their name)

Some facts about them: was once such a happy and bright person, loves the scent of roses, a hopeless romantic, seemed to blame their self for everything, a curious mind, might have been into poetry or was a poet themself.

Other things I channeled: a little house in the countryside, you might have been married, sickness/disease, both of you must have had a dog that you both loved and raised together.

Shufflemancy, songs that may resonate: (omg you both really have fallen in love in such a young age)

Thank you for taking your time to read this and for liking and reblogging my posts! Please take the time as well to research for more information and educate yourselves about climate change. Let's get together and help the earth 🧚🏼‍♀ Sending much light <3

- Ivy

THREE

Dear (a name that you had in that past life),

No one knew what we had except us. Behind closed doors and sinking in the shadows was the only way we could drown in our love for each other. It ended so soon just as it began, but we always knew that, didn't we? We always knew what was coming for us if we had to have each other. I suppose that's why it didn't hurt as much as I expected it to be, because I knew that someday it would come to this. I was prepared for it, and you were as well, weren't you? I remember telling myself to just grab this opportunity to spend time with you, because if I don't, hells I would never get a chance again. And I was right. I was glad that for once in my life I was right about something. Something that I would never regret. I would grow old and look back in our days with a smile, I promise. I wouldn't expect you to do the same, I understand. But somehow, a part of me hopes that you will. That brief moments that we shared in secret—I remember each and everyone one of them and I keep it locked inside my heart and no one else will open it except you, who have the key. It's your choice whether to keep that key or toss it away for good.

I don't know whether this letter will reach you. It might be dangerous for the both of us—especially for you, if someone finds out about this. But do me a favor that if you'll ever have the chance to read this letter, don't keep it after reading it. Crumple and toss it to the fire until all it's left are ashes. You have the right to forget about me, (name). And you deserve a love that is better than I can give, I can only pray that you will find that love that you deserve someday. As for me, I will never forget you. Because I don't think I'll ever love someone again as much as I loved you. I would count myself lucky if you'd visit me in my dreams.

Take care of yourself, Miss/Mr. (name).

Sincerely,

(their name and last name)

Some facts about them: I saw a framed painting before channeling the messages, they could've been a painter. They are very nobleminded and kind. Quite generous too, and selfless.

Other things I channeled: summer (broo why does this remind me of August by Taylor Swift? Like the love affair started and ended in summer??)

NOTE: I can't help but point out that they ended the letter in a professional way, it was as if you worked together professionally, or they worked for you. But I'm leaning towards the latter.

Shufflemancy, songs that may resonate: (OMGGG.. remember I said they might have been an artist??? and this song is kinda similar to what they felt too..)

(I didn't mentioned this earlier, but I somehow felt you were someone who was of noble birth? Except this past lover of yours. That may explain all the cliche star-crossed lovers stuff, jkjk HAHHAHA)

Thank you for taking your time to read this and for liking and reblogging my posts! Please take the time as well to research for more information and educate yourselves about climate change. Let's get together and help the earth 🧚🏼‍♀ Sending much light <3

- Ivy

#bewitchingivy #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot reading #intuitive reading #divination #pac #tarot #witchblr #tarot community #witch community #past life #past life lover #letters

[belle-keys]

why do you think its a sign of media illiteracy when one dislikes lolita? i mean it has everything to do with the fact it was written by men since women romance literature is about self fulfillment fantasy to be dominated by hot alpha male but when you read grey or similar books it's obvious from the start this book isn't trying to be labelled as masterpiece, form of art to be workshipped etc. why people can't treat lolita the same way? why when men write about their sexual fantasies it's called art, top 100 books you need to read before you dir, that you need to separate artist from art, even though his wife admitted nabokov indeed had such fantasies so it's confirmed, but when women write about their own sexual fantasies is immediately labelled as oh, she hasn't had sex in 10 years time, so she tries to live her life through characters from her book? double standards at its best.

let's get into this mess of an ask lmao.

Firstly, I have no idea why you're assuming I don't like it when woman write their sexual fantasies in books. I read and enjoy a lot of that. Just because some misogynistic and hypocritical people are somehow cool with the male gaze but not the female gaze doesn't mean that I'm one of them. You're also assuming that because people trash on female writers' works and don't take it seriously means we should, what, automatically do the same for Nabokov? As revenge? Like, what kinda logic is that?

Secondly, you're assuming Lolita is Nabokov's sexual fantasy which is categorically incorrect and is a gross misreading of the book. Nabokov himself was sexually abused as a child and moreover spent the years after the publishing of Lolita trying to campaign for publishers not to use pictures of little girls on the book cover so that his book wouldn't promote the objectification of Lolita's image. Google is your friend to find all of Nabokov's anti-pedophilia and anti-Humbert stances. The podcast I linked also has an episode that gives a fact-checked biography of his life and the writing of the book.

And an even more glaring flaw of your argument here is that you seem to think Humbert's perspective mirrors... Nabokov's. Vladimir Nabokov is not Sam Levinson, you know. The book is a criticism of the way men treat women and view little girls, and the way a brilliantly evil mind who possesses a way with words can manage to trick you into sympathizing with him purely because of his "fancy prose". But the whole point of Lolita is that you're not supposed to side with Humbert, no matter how well he constructs word palaces in his self-defense. Nabokov created Humbert with the explicit purpose of criticizing and condemning... Humbert. Which he effectively does through the use of sature and irony and unreliable narration in the novel.

Like, please. Hate Lolita because you think it's bad, or it's poorly written, or it's overrated. But don't hate it in the name of all the women whose works aren't taken seriously or because you insist it refers to Nabokov's point of view. Hating Lolita, or any book, isn't a sign of media illiteracy. It's the reasoning for the hate which is what could be. You're entitled to your own opinion, but this opinion here just kinda sucks.

#like cmon it's cool if you hate the book or the subject material or nabokov or men #but don't insist the book is 'immoral' or 'harmful' as your justification for hating it #'no immoral books' and whatever else oscar wilde said #lolita #vladimir nabokov #humbert humbert #dolores haze #media literacy #american literature #english lit #reader #book blog #books and literature

[soundbluster]

Tl/Dr: Don't buy these toys unless they're heavily discounted. Or if you can just get Dilophocon.

I'm usually easy to please with my transformer figures. And neither of the two toys are objectively 'bad' like tfp Airachnid or something, in terms of how they look both figures are beautifully painted and would looks great in a static display, especially in their alt- modes which were clearly the priority for the designers.

But, as someone who likes to play with, transform and photograph my figures this is one of those rare times I can say I was genuinely disappointed by a toy considering the price I paid (as I foolishly got them for retail price).

------ long thoughts, and pictures below ----

Firstly, the two figures are tiny, if you split the price of the box set between them they should be around the voyager or even a discounted leader in size. However both are smaller deluxe's in size.

Price discrepancy aside, the box they come in is huge, and as theres no window theres no way of seeing the actual size of the toys. About 60% of it is just wasted space. I'd have honestly called it false or misleading advertising if I'd have bought this in a store...

It does come with a cardboard display backdrop, which is cool I guess, but I don't think it's inclusion justifies the price hike or misleading box size (particularly as most of the collectors I know and any kids buying this will just chuck the backdrop away).

Dilophodon

I'd describe myself as a casual fan of Jurassic Park mainly because I'm a bit of a Dino nerd, and because I love the various JP park builder games. I have huge nostalgia for old JP operation Genesis game on PC and the JP Park Builder game on Game Boy Colour, and I enjoy playing the modern Jurassic World Evolution 1 &2 games.

However, I skipped the first transformers-Jurassic park crossover set (with the t-rex) because I didn't like the Kingdom beast wars Megatron mould. But Dilophosaurus is one of my favourite dinosaurs (I like my small to medium theropods way more than the big Tyrannosaurids and the like).

I know the frill was an invention for the movie, but even without it they look so cool, and I find them fascinating as early Jurassic Dinosaurs a time period were relatively few dinosaur fossils have been discovered (at least compared to the late Jurassic and Cretaceous).

To be fair, she's a decent toy and if she was on sale on her own for a fair price I'd actually recommend it. She has a fun and fairly intuitive transformation which is somewhat reminiscent of Kingdom Airazor. And she looks great in both Dino and bot mode.

But it has a number of annoying little problems considering how expensive the box set is.

Firstly, her frills do not stay tabbed in, indeed they'd fallen off inside the box when I got it open, making her look like she was wearing a pair of comedy giant ears.

Similarly her arms are supposed to tab in between her legs in Dino mode, but at least on my copy they do not want to stay securely plugged in.

There's also a problem with her shoulders, one of my pet leaves with figures is when the arms do not directly connect with the torso. While the issue is not as bad as on legacy Shadow Striker, due to the transformation her shoulders are attached to very loose hinge joints. If they tabbed or locked into place that'd fix the issue, but unfortunately they're just left flop around when you're trying to get her into a dynamic pose.

But overall she is a good toy, minor flaws aside... Unfortunately the same can't be said for her companion...

JP12

(I still think that's a really stupid name...)

On the plus side I do like how they clearly tried to homage Nedry it the bots robot mode design. With the chubby look due to tires on the stomach and rounded face, with a faux microphone, it definitely brings the character to mind. The car mode also looks fantastic with a load of paintwork and tiny little Jurassic park decals.

Unfortunately as a transformer he's really frustrating...

He has a fully moulded interior complete with back seats, which looks cool in alt mode but unfortunately this prevents any kibble management and he ends up with the entire top of the car on his back (you can't collapse it down or anything). This wouldn't be so bad except it doesn't compress into the torso /hips at all and there's a good centimetre or more gap between his hips and the backpack which makes him look hollow from any angle except the front.

The moulded in interior also really hinders the transformation. Because you can't move the side panels out of the way there's very little clearance. When going from car to bot mode it's really difficult to get his feet and legs unfolded (as there's barely accessible "door-like" panels on the front of the leg that you need to open to get the leg straightened), or to bring his shoulders out. Folding the bonnet down to form the chest is also frustrating, as his door-wings just catch on the backpack.

Getting the robot back to car is even worse, you basically have to just smoosh all his parts past each other until they vaguely get into the right position. It's honestly on a par with some awful third party transformations when it comes to the clearance issues.

And like Dilophocon he has shoulder issues. His shoulders are on thin struts attaching to the central torso, and attach into place using really small tabs that do not want to stay in position. Meaning you'll often find your JP12 looking like some sort of body horror monster with his arms protruding out of his stomach!

There entire top of the car is also painted clear plastic. Which is prone to breakages so there might be some longevity issues. Though in this case, the fact the top of the car doesn't transform might be an advantage as you're not really putting any stress on the clear plastic when transforming it. Though there are some non-articulated pins running through the clear plastic which might be a potential breakage point.

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