#it’s a little treats. a little treats for a little guy

[xinganhao]

🥈 svt vs. reader's bad boyfriend.

anon → "could you do a post with one of the members getting after yn's bf because he thinks he's not treating her well enough?"

⌗ ┆i have a terrible feeling i might've misunderstood this req,, so please forgive me if i did lol ꒰ ꒡⌓꒡꒱

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: reader has a bad boyfriend, hurt/comfort, [light] angst, crack, cussing, [short] headcanons under the cut.

🥈 headcanons .ᐟ

— "break up with him now" ✩ junhui, soonyoung, wonwoo, minghao, vernon.

ah, yes. the trope of someone who will immediately insist that breaking up is the solution, although, in this case, it's completely warranted. soonyoung and minghao are the most vocal about you ending your relationship, but in their own little ways. for his part, soonyoung's a little annoying about it— you'll barely have explained your current predicament and he's already whining, "just break things off with him!" minghao, meanwhile, actually listens, but his expressions and consequent advice are brutal. he's always been no-bullshit when it comes to life, and so when he hears about all the things your boyfriend is doing/has done? he's actively advocating for you to get up and go. junhui's the type to take it out on your boyfriend. he's constantly threatening bodily harm and various other minor crimes against the poor guy, even though he doesn't really ever act on it. he is extra cold when he's in the other man's presence, to the point that your boyfriend may be under the impression that junhui hates him. (spoiler alert! jun does!) wonwoo isn't always vocal about his distaste; he's a little more backhanded/passive-aggressive about it. he's more of an actions guy, through and through. picking up the slack here and there to show you that your boyfriend is a dick for not doing things that your friends can. vernon also struggles a bit to get the right words out, so he just... says it as it is. he may look like he's packaging his advice as a joke, but he's 100% sincere when he sends you breakup playlists and reddit threads about ending things with your significant other. that's just his way of communicating it, really.

— "but are you okay?" ✩ seungcheol, joshua, mingyu, jihoon, seokmin, seungkwan.

for the most part, all the boys are the 'just-end-your-relationship-please' type, but there's also some who rely more on expression of concern. take mingyu, for example, whose chief endeavor will be to cheer you up. he'll leave sweet nothings and encouraging notes in hopes of lifting your mood; his eyes, constantly peeled to see how you're faring. you can rant in to the wee hours of the morning, and both seungkwan and joshua will listen. they'll let you tell the same old stories again and again; even if they half-joke that you just never listen to them, they're still there as a shoulder to cry on. seungkwan is more likely to give advice, while joshua's strength lies in non-judgmental indulgence. seokmin will make it his life's mission to distract you from the issue at hand. a movie night? a trip to an obscure café? if it will improve your mood in any way, shape, or form, he's already halfway there. he won't even mention your boyfriend, if you don't bring him up. seungcheol is similar to mingyu in the sense that he best expresses his concern through little encouraging gifts. he's not the type to push the envelope, to try and get you to talk when/if you're not ready, so he just communicates to you that he's there, when/if you need him. jihoon's also a bit unsure how to navigate a relationship that's not his. he can pick up how you're feeling, at the very least, and so he instead focuses on that. he's a quiet, steadfast presence who will take you to the gym or encourage you to write songs, if only because he thinks those might be potential solutions.

— "play stupid games, win stupid prizes" ✩ jeonghan, chan.

svt's petty line, how i love you so. they can all admittedly be petty when they want to be, but these two? they take the cake. jeonghan is a big believer in "show him what he's missing." he'll snap hot photos of you on your behalf. he'll let you use him as a nice little ploy to incite some jealousy. is it a little toxic, a bit red flag-y? sure, but that asshole is putting you through much worse. jeonghan's a firm believer that revenge is a dish best served cold, and he's cold to the bone when it comes to making sure you get what you deserve. (and that your boyfriend, too, has what's coming for him.) chan is insistent that you should break up with your boyfriend, of course, but he's a big believer that you should go out with a bang. it's a bit amusing, to see one of the group's more lowkey members insist that your boyfriend should be on the receiving end of a public lashing. some might say he just likes the drama. truthfully, he just wants to make it abundantly clear to everyone that you're not someone to be messed with, and that you're not going to settle for anything less now that you've kicked the devil's incarnate to the curb.

[narsh-poptarts]

my dark link thoughts coalesced into wonderful headcanons and crazy amounts of forced perspectives and dutch angles

also sorry HW i would have included your dark link(s) but i do not have passion for your game <3 maybe next time

Some thoughts below

I have thoughts about dark link that boil down to basically two things: 1. it's always the same dark link, and 2. dark link has a very difficult time changing.

No matter how many times dark link is brought into existence, he is formed from the shadow of link usually to test link's will. that shadow can be duplicated (as seen in HW) but generally speaking it's the same guy, sharing the thought space, you know how it is. In terms of sentience/thinking for himself, I don't think there's all that much of it. He is a dark reflection/shadow of link, so shares his abilities and thought patterns (for combat) with added aggression and. evil. i guess.

As said by navi, "conquer yourself", and all that. He's a challenge to the inner will power.

That being said!!! he can have a little bit of individuality, as a treat. Just in the form of being mean and sadistic <3 he's got thoughts, he's not just a combat doll (tho in times of low power, or a greater power having the reins, he reverts to that), so he can be frustrated, vindicated, happy, etc etc. though when your thoughts are mainly "evilevilevilevilevil" your idea of these emotions are a bit skewed.

When he's summoned for each different link, i hc that it's all the same magic, so the same dark link every time. he "remembers" in an abstract sense of his role in the same way a link or zelda "remembers" their own reincarnation. tho his is less of a reincarnation and more being used over and over again. a persistence.

The iteration that's summoned reflects the current link at the time, the part of link that needs testing/defeating, so it's not an existence that he himself can change to match the present. he's locked to that first copy/shadow only. So if he were to have a second encounter with an older link, he'd look like the first time they fought, unless he was specifically re-summoned. i hc he's got limited magic, so this is not something he can do himself.

in a links-meet scenario, his form would be limited to those specific forms of the links, and it would always be the points in time in which he first encountered them, unless there's other magic either he or someone else has access to to allow him to change forms to match.

now you might be saying at this point "wouldn't he be a weaker match if he was put up against an older link?" yeah probably lol. but also!!! i like the idea that with the limited magic he has, he's able to change juuuust enough to stay relatively evenly matched. being able to play to different strengths and all that. but the base stuff is still the same, so he is decently easy enough to read if link remembers the kind of stuff he was pulling back when he originally fought dark link.

dark link also knows about all this so while limited to the particular skillset, is able to adapt slightly.

but yeah been thinking a lot about a links-meet au where dark link is there choosing a different link to be every time he appears to the party.

though there are a couple links that he never impersonates in their games!!! so can't change into those guys unless he gets a new round of copycat magic.

Anyways goodbye guy standing there with standard camera angle, i have dutch angles and forced perspective

[justyoursicanon]

So from what I heard, Wade wanted a family with Vanessa right? A baby?? A family of his own??

He would definitely treat Mary Puppins as his own actual biological daughter even though she's a deadpool, but she's the closest thing he has to an actual baby

And and Wade was no doubt happy for Laura that she has a Logan, not hers, but a Logan that she'll love and cherish all the same as her father

And Logan slowly opening himself to her and taking the parental role and treating her like she was always his own daughter

But oh my God IMAGINE PLEASE IMAGINE how HAPPY he would be when Laura refers to him as papa one day

Wade would always hang out and treat Laura like the questionable Uncle, and leaving the "father-bonding-and-other-fatherly-things" to Logan

But then one night, after she comes over for dinner and hangs out with them and now she has to return back to the X-Mansion she goes:

"Thanks for letting me come over agajn guys. Goodnight, love you Dad, love you Papi." And shuts the door and Wade almost trips over Mary Puppins.

"That's a little odd, baby peanut mentioned you twice. Must be really tired after tonight."

"Papi is you, bub."

He slowly turns to Logan, refusing to believe it

Before quietly and brokenly asking with so much joy

"I'm a dad?"

And if he cried that night, then that'll just be between him, Logan and Mary Puppins until Wade starts telling anyone and everyone that he's a step father and proceeds to prove how much of a great step father he can be

[sissyslutsusan]

I met this older dominant man the other night at a trans club. He and some younger men kept hitting on me and buying me drinks, one after the other. And the more I drank the bolder and looser I became. Sitting at a high top table wearing a tight little black dress with my nyloned legs crossed, and 6" heels, I could see showing these guys some leg was definitely turning them on. I started grabbing their cocks through the pants, rubbing their asses, dancing with them, and being very flirtatious. One of the younger guys was kissing my neck, and another guy was hugging me from behind. The third younger guy had his had on my legs and kept trying to go under my dress. It was getting very busy at my table and I was having a hard managing so many men. I can be a little bitch sometimes so I was somewhat sarcastic and saucy with them. So, I was a bit drunk and felt if I was going to leave with one of these guys I would be safer going with the older guy. We went out to his car and the first thing he says is let's get a motel room. I didn't want to lose my virginity in his car If necessary, I could always perform oral sex on him which I had done many times with different men at these clubs. OMG! It wasn't long before he was all over me, grabbing me, grabbing my tits and ass, he was acting crazy! It was like he got a second wind, and I was wondering if I left with the right guy! He grabbed my hand and placed it on his outer pants so I could feel his cock. Even though I hadn't seen it yet I knew then it was big and very hard. I started jacking him off and he quickly unzipped his pants and pulled his big cock out. It was huge and very thick. I thought I could jack him off and that would be the end of it but he grabbed my head and forced it down onto his big veiny hard cock. I knew there was no way to stop him now so I started licking and sucking his big dick. I lapped the mushroomed looking head and could taste precum oozing from the head of his cock. I started bobbing my head up and down and at the same time stroking his shaft and playing with his balls. He was really horny because it didn't take him long to ejaculate sperm into my mouth and down my throat. He forced his cock so deep down my throat I gagged a bit and was choking on all the cum he pumped down my throat. This video is literally the way he treated me! It felt like I was his personal little whore! He slapped me, used two fingers to pull my mouth open wider, choked me, stuck his tongue into my mouth and kissed me passionately, then spit into my mouth, he hiked my little black dress up, ripped my pantyhose, and played with my ass and clitty. His hands were big and very strong. He made me cum in my panties. His hand was full of my cum when he told me to start licking! The inside of my mouth was coated in his cum and drying on the corners of my lips where some of his semen had leaked out. I didn't really want both of our cum coating my inner mouth. He then forced his cum covered hand into my mouth without even asking me or giving me a chance to say no. He was twisting my body like a pretzel in all kinds of ways! It was like I was a contortionist. Once he flipped me onto my back I thought for sure he was going to fuck me because he removed my panties. But he couldn't really get buy his console because it was too high. So he then spun me so I was sideways in the car, pushed me forward, hiked my dress up, and started slapping my ass really hard! So hard and for so long I had bruises on it when I got home! All of these things went on for at least an hour in his car. I was completely worn out and he had so much energy and was so strong there wasn't much I could do to prevent this from getting out of control. He could have done anything he wanted to me and I would have had to give in to him. After I got back into my car I felt relieved he didn't make me suck his cock again because it was very hard as I was leaving. He really abused me and made me his whore for the night.....I can't wait to see him again! <smile>

[fuctacles]

Pippin the Fluffy, Guardian of Pants

for @steddiemicrofic "guard" | T | 532 | no cw | one night stand, strangers to lovers, musician Eddie, evil little dog

The guy's name is Steve, he's sweet, and he made Eddie ache in the best way. 

But now it was time to go. 

He isn't proud of it, but it's what he does. All his partners so far hated the long distance of touring, which isn't something he's ready to leave behind. His band is gaining momentum right now and they all agreed sacrifices need to be made if they want to make it big. Dating is one of them.

So Eddie leaves every hook-up, no matter how hot they are, how sweet they talk to him, how good they smell. 

How evil their Pomeranian is. 

"Dude," Eddie hisses in exasperation the second time the little dog bares his teeth at him. He's usually great with dogs and loves most of the little creatures but this guy seems to have a vendetta against him. He's sitting on top of Eddie's pants like he's Smaug guarding his pile of gold and treasures. The most Eddie's managed to put on is his boxers but the rest of his clothes are under the dog's little body. And it's adamant about staying there.

"Fine. Be like that," he huffs. Maybe if he goes to use the bathroom, the dog will move, join his owner on the bed, or something. 

When he returns, the dog watches him smugly, still leaving its light hair on his black clothes. Eddie sighs, now resigned to a scavenger hunt for dog treats. He's starting to consider getting back in bed because going through a stranger's cupboards feels like a new low.

Thankfully he finds a packet of treats in plain sight. He picks it up happily, but his smile falls instantly when the dog spots the bag.

The little fluffy ball stands up, the hair across its spine raising while it bares its fangs, and Eddie is losing his confidence at an alarming rate. It's like the dog is offended that he's trying to bribe him. 

"What the fuck do you want from me?" he whispers heatedly, looking into its beady eyes. "I just want my pants!"

"Pippin!"

His heart almost falls out of his chest. The dog meanwhile, apparently named Pippin, jumps onto the bed happily, all signs of malice gone.

Eddie laughs awkwardly now that his hook-up is awake and puts the treats away before bending down to retrieve his stuff. 

"Your dog is insane, man. He wouldn't get off my clothes."

Steve hums.

"I trained him to do that."

"What?" Eddie looks at him in confusion. Now that he's awake, he feels weird about just leaving.

"Got tired of everyone leaving without a word. So I taught him to guard their clothes on the floor," he admits while scratching at Pippin's fur.

Eddie gapes at him.

"But by all means," Steve motions at the door. "I had fun, hope you did too."

"You're insane," Eddie says instead of something more appropriate. "I'm... I move a lot so I'm not looking for anything serious right now."

Steve rolls his eyes.

"I was hoping for a second round, not a marriage proposal."

Eddie considers him for a second before placing his clothes on a nearby chair.

"Well, in that case..."

[cookieclover]

Just dropping in to say the kittyformers sculptures give me life. They are amazing and your work is a true gift to this community. Along with your very cool art of course. Mayhaps can I see them(kitties) again? (Just like a picture of them or smth, they are so beautiful)

Here u go, happy to say that this week Elita-1 joins the kitty party! Just need Orion to make the whole team (and Sentinel as a treat, when I figure out how to shape the tiny wings) :>

Thank you so much, I'm so happy you guys are enjoying those little figures, they also bring me much joy < 3 Once again thanking @happy-duckie for requesting kitty Prowl, he's the one that started the whole collection!

[wonderjanga]

The IRS

Billy doesn’t pay taxes. Anything related to taxes, he doesn’t know about.

M’gann: “What’s an IRS?”

Kid Flash “They’re these guys who collect taxes.”

M’gann: “Really? I’ve never paid taxes before. Are they gonna come after me?” *sounds slightly concerned*

Kid Flash: “Maybe-”

Marvel: *comes out of the kitchen with cookies* “No, they’re not. M’gann, the IRS isn’t real.”

M’gann: “It isn’t?”

Marvel: “Yeah, it isn’t. Wally’s just pulling your leg.”

Kid Flash: “Uh… no, no I’m not… Marvel you do know IRS is real, right? It’s important to me that you know that.”

Marvel: “Well, they’ve never come for me and I haven’t paid a single tax in my life.”

Kid Flash: *sounds completely concerned* “That means you’re committing tax fraud.”

Later…

YJ and Marvel: *all huddled around Tim who’s hunched over a computer*

Marvel: “Why’s is everyone here?”

Robin!Tim: “What do you mean, Cap? This is a celebratory moment. We didn’t even know you could commit a crime, yet here we are.” *typing on computer*

Marvel: “Why’d you pull up C.C. Batson?”

Robin!Tim: “Cap, you’re not exactly hiding your face. Anyone could find out who you were if they just dug a little deeper than the surface.”

Artemis: “Your name is C.C.?” *tries to see the computer*

Robin!Tim: “Charles actually.”

Zatanna: “You look like a Charles.”

Marvel: “I do? Huh. Well, anyways, I’ve been legally pronounced dead so I shouldn’t have to pay them right?”

Robin!Tim: “Well, you’re alive now. That means that you technically faked your death and that also technically means that you’re committing tax fraud so…” *types on computer* “You should owe 5 billion to the IRS.”

Marvel: *sounds completely devastated* “WHAT?”

Aqualad: “How could he possibly have racked up that much?”

Robin!Tim: “Well, Cap’s been “dead” *does quotes with his hands* since 1958 so he put off 66 years of taxes. Plus, the price of a dollar went up as the years passed so yeah.”

Marvel: “Oh my gods…” *sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown*

Kid Flash: “Wow. You’re actually an egregious tax evader. 5 billion is insane.”

Even More Later…

Batman: *came to check on the kids*

Marvel: *in a corner, rocking back and forth, practically crying*

Batman: “What’s wrong with him?”

Robin!Tim: “He owes 5 billion to the IRS.”

Batman: “…What?”

Robin!Tim: “Yeah, I know, right?”

Batman and Robin!Tim: *watch as Conner comes by and puts a bunch of blankets on Marvel. They then see M’gann come in with some hot coco and hand it to Cap*

Batman: *sighs* “I’ll get the money.” *walks away*

Robin!Tim: “Hey, Cap! You can stop worrying now! Batman is gonna hook you up.

And that’s how, after much refusal from Billy and a lot of peer pressure from both the YJ and Mr. Batman, itty bitty Billy Batson ended up with 5 billion dollars. And since he didn’t want to be arrested for tax evasion, he was too scared to hand it over to the IRS. (It’s not like he knew how to pay them anyways) But hey, Billy now gets to treat himself, Mary, and Freddy. They now have a decent apartment, better clothes, and lots and lots of food money, and potentially toy money? Billy’s been eyeing these Bulletman and Bulletgirl action figures for his and Mary’s birthday coming up. He hopes Mary will like them, or at least the Bulletgirl figure, he knows she’s a big fan.

Also, I have no idea if the 5 billion dollar thing is right, I pulled that from somewhere and I honestly forgot where.

[justplainlovely]

@northwest-cryptid’s explanation is great, but I have some experience I’d like to add as well as a plea for any men on the left

From 2016 to 2019, I got a tad lost in libertarian/right adjacent spaces. I truly believe the only things that stopped me from going further were sexism and racism from others.

I had a “come to Jesus” moment around early 2018 when I went from “Trump is just an idiot” to “Trump is a dangerous dummy who emboldens the worst aspects of masculinity and, especially, white masculinity”.

For various reasons, I have little problem admitting I am wrong and fixing that when I am. But in late 2017, when I started engaging in what I can now label derad work, I found that a lot of men in those spaces had completely different attitudes towards change. I spent a lot of time talking with these guys. I even invited a couple of them into my bed which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t a great idea. Lonely people make stupid decisions and whatnot.

Anyway, when talking to some of these individuals and trying to get them to see the world through my “female eyes”, they had a tendency to reject my stories; every moment I was SA’ed, every catcalling story, every time a man brushed past me, every time a man treated me like less than a person (especially moments that could be excused as “but he didn’t know better”) was invalidated.

No matter how much or how often I told these men my story, comforted them when they told me theirs, and been there for them when they needed company, the lack of respect was still palpable. I was 17-22 back then. Maybe it has something to do with my age, but in truth, I know it had much more to do with my sex.

American men have a problem that only American men can solve. And that is they don’t respect women as full beings. That doesn’t mean they hate women outright. It’s just the kind of patronization that leads to weird attitudes like “women are like children and should be preserved”. It’s the kind of attitude that leads to men, whether they observe it or not, treating women like property.

And all that said, my main call to action is for left wing and centrist men. You guys have a lot of work to do. So do I, as a white-passing woman (white women broke 53% for Trump, if I’m not mistaken). Based on my experience, men will not accept help from women when they see us as beneath them. A lot of men entering alt-right spaces, whether or not they realize it, do believe in that hierarchy and for that reason it is crucial that centrist and left men engage in the hard work of deradicalization.

Got any buddies that are getting a little too weird? Talk to them. Ask them what’s going on. See what they need. Do this before it’s too late and they become a “Q-er”. Your isolation is precisely the power the alt-right weaponizes.

“Your buddies may have left you, but we don’t care what you believe. There’s many more of us. Come hang out!”

It’s that and more, so please. I’m begging you. Do ANYTHING you can.

the idea that reactionary spaces are attractive to men because they treat them kindly unlike The Left is so odd because whenever I come across that content it's essentially the same dynamic as pro ana "meanspo". if you don't know what that is, it's "motivation" based on degrading the viewer to the point where they can't "make excuses" and not become anorexic, or in this case a true Alpha Male. I feel like thisis objectively worse for someone's mental health than The Left

[whore-ibly-hot]

"1-800-HANDY-YAN"

Yandere!Handymen (Tucker and Billy) x Fem!Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Oral sex, yandere behavior, Dub-con, perverted thoughts, misogynistic comments (mostly tucker), class economic divide? Spying, obsession, stalking, double trouble yanderes, mention of female genitalia and breasts on reader

A/N: Yeah, maybe this is eight hundred weeks late, I got super motivated then super not. But trust me, this piece is 👌

Metal tools clink together, the sound of screws and the occasional drip of left over water fills up the space beneath the sink as Tucker works on the clogged drain.

"Wrench." He sticks his hand out of the cabinet and extends his fingers while his mullet-haired friend whose sat just outside. Bill hands him the wrench, sighing as he cranes his head to see around the doorframe and into the living room of this nice suburban home.

"Alright, gimme the bolt." The skinny wife-beater clad handyman asks his broad set and chubby friend. After a few moments, he calls again. "Bill, bolt. Cmon," He groans as he slides out from the sink cabinet and look at his distracted coworker. Smacking him upside the shoulder he shakes his head. "Get your fuckin' head outta the clouds, or I'll have your fatass get stuck up under this sink tugging on the hair and shit in here." He grumbles. "What the hell are you even-" He leans forward against the tile to see forward at what's captured Bill's attention, and then sighs.

"Stop looking at the homeowner if you ain't gonna do anything, Billy. You've got a limp dick crush on her, why won't you do anything about it, huh?" He nudges his friend. "She's always calling us for little home repairs, and she never has anyone over. I mean, her beds always made too." He whistles lowly as he sees you watching the TV in the living room, eyes raking over your tits and ass as he bites his lip back a bit.

"What does her bed have anything to do with whether or not she's got a fella?" Bill asks weakly, and Tucker rolls his eyes.

"Please, no one is ever here, and her bed isn't made. She's not exactly getting rolled around and pounded in it, is she? Shit, I dont even remake my bed after I jerk it."

Bill shushes him and shoots a panicked look back towards you. "She could hear you, just... don't talk about her like that. She's trusting us to be good to her house and to, uh, to her."

"Well-" As Tucker finishes up with the drain and reattaches the pipe, flipping the sink water back on and letting it run for a minute, he pulls out of the counter. "Why don't we let her know the jobs done, yeah?"

Walking into the living room, Bill has always tended to be quiet around you. You'd seen the scruffy men around the suburb you live in before, they appeared to be everything men. They work on plumbing, fix lights and wiring, mow lawns, and they got good reviews from your neighbors. It's obvious they don't really fit in in the neighborhood. The men are scruffy, usually in dirty clothes with unkempt beards and a beaten up old van. They're from the poor end of town, a rather rough trailer park. They are treated as useful workers, but poor company by your wealthy neighbors. Still, they've been nothing but nice to you, sweet even.

"Hey guys, is the sink fixed up?" You ask, perking up from your spot on the couch and casting aside the tv remote.

"Sure thing, jobs all done." Tucker sniffs, rubbing at his chin and putting a hand on his hip. "We figured it was a super quick job, so Bill suggested we give you half off since it didn't take the full hour." He nudges his friend, who seems shocked at his attempt to get you to speak to him.

"Y-yeah." He mumbles out, swallowing harshly. "Didn't want to charge you for anything extra." He explains quietly.

"Thank you guys, that's so sweet, but you dont have to do that." You sigh and out your hand on your hip. "Well, let me go grab the money I owe you." While you get up, Tucker makes himself cozy on the couch, spreading out like hes always lived here.

"So, missy. We've helped you out quite a bit, fixed things here and there, haven't seen a fella around." He says. "Surely you'd have an easier time fixing this stuff with a more permanent solution."

"Knock it off-" Bill spits under his breath, but his friend just smile mischeviously and sinks deeper into the fabric.

"Yeah, I just haven't met a guy I'm interested in." You explain, talking over your shoulder as you get the money from your bag. "Or any guys whove been interested in me."

"That can't be true-" Bill starts, his sudden outburst makes the attention in the room focused on him. "I just mean, you seem like a real nice lady, sweet." He explains, hands fiddling with the edge of his flannel top.

"That's really sweet, thank you, Bill." You tilt your head with a soft smile and he just nods in acknowledgement, blushing a bit. "What about you guys? You two have anyone special?"

Tucker clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "Hell naw, it's a bachelor pad in our trailer. I mean, we bring girls back sometimes, but you know-" he shrugs. "Bill's kinda hopeless with the ladies, and I'm never satisfied." He winks.

Sitting up, he puts his hands on his knees. "You know, you're a real nice gal, I mean, most people won't even look at us while we work, to busy keeping an eye on stuff and making sure we don't steal. So nice in fact, my friend here's got kind of a crush on ya."

Your eyes widen as your head quickly swivels to the now sheet-white Bill, his hands out in front of him as if to show he means no harm. "N-nah, it's not like, not like that!" He exclaims, looking mortified. "Please, Tucker's talking outta his ass, don't listen to him. Really, I have nothing but professional feelings for you." He says. Hes removed his hat from his head and holds it to his chest, both as a nervous movement and a stress fidget.

"He's lying. Everytime we come here to work, I practically bruise his arm trying to get his attention. He just sits and gawks. I'm being a good friend, telling him to man up."

You set aside your wallet as you slowly approach him, every step feels heavy as you walk up to the broad-shouldered gentle giant. "Is that true, Bill?" You ask. "Do you... are you really interested in me?"

He sighs deeply, refusing to meet your gaze. "I do. I'm sorry, I tried to keep things professional, and respect your boundaries." He begins to ramble as you smile a bit. "I mean, I-I support women and their safety, I know you put a Lotta trust in lettin' us into your home. I'm a feminine!"

"Feminist, stupid." Tucker snickers, and you shoot a warning glance at him. He puts his hands up.

"Its alright, Bill. You've been nothing but sweet and respectful to me, and you guys always come when I call." Crossing your arms, you rub just above your elbow. "Its been hard adjusting to the neighbordhood, people are kinda stuck up or unkind, but you're both so real. And sweet, and-"

"Extremely sexy, right?" Tucker coos, slinging a boney arm around your shoulder. Bill seems shocked at his friend sudden physical contact with you, a boundary he's never dared cross. "She's offering you a compliment, Bill. Come on, return it. Tell her all the nice things we've said about her, like how she's got a great rack." His scratch stubble rubs your cheek a bit from where he's stood behind you. "You really do have a great pair."

"I never agreed with what he was saying, I would never, um- talk about a girl like that, my momma would be so upset with me. Tucker was the one sayin' all that dirty stuff about you." Bill explains. "I would just say you looked prettier than a peach' and he'd make it all gross."

"So..." You grin a bit as your eyes slowly trail over his body and up to meet his gaze. He's trying hard to avoid yours. "You don't like the way my tits look?"

A wild, toothy grin flashes across Tucker's face, he knows where this is heading, and his friends reaction is even more amusing.

"No, I- I do. They look, they look great. Round..."

"Round? What the fuck is wrong with you, that's how you describe her girls?" Tucker shakes his head and turns back to you, his mouth close to your ear so he could whisper in. "Tell you what, before Billy-boy says something that dries out your puss, why don't we take this up to your room? I have the advantage of knowing the way." He ever so slightly grind the front of his jeans to your ass, the growing erection obvious. "Cmon baby, we're handymen, let me clean those pipes."

You immediately cackle and lean forward, gripping your stomach. Tucker looks confused and offended as he puts a hand on his hip. "Sorry!" You exclaim, still laughing. "Sorry, that was just such a stupid line, I'm sorry."

"It wasn't stupid, it was sexy." Tucker scoffs. "Really fucking sexy, you know how many panties get dropped at bars because of 'stupid' lines like that. Don't dance around it, if you don't wanna bone just tell me." You perk up at that, seeing a rare moment of insecurity in Tucker's face. Face flushed, he seems embarrassed, actually wounded. Bill moves to stand a little closer to him, trying to put a hand on his shoulder before it's swatted away with a quiet 'fuck you, don't touch me'.

"No, I... I do. I do, you're both attractive and I haven't had anyone in a long time. You've always been good to me, but I-" You sigh. "I dont know if I can be what you want? I'm not exactly a freak in bed, and I've never been with two guys before." You begin.

Excitement reunited, but still softened by that moment of vulnerability, Bill speaks up for once. "You're perfect." He says, steadying himself. "Really, you don't have to be experienced or nothing, I'm a big clutz but trying your best is what matters. And we'd go as slow or as gentle as you wanted. And as for two guys-" He sighs and swallows harshly. "If you just wanna do it with Tuck, I'll wait he-"

"No, no, it's not that at all. I'm getting caught in my head, I want this." You hold out a hand brush over his flannel shirt buttons, fiddling with one. "I want you. Both of you, as appreciation for how hard you've worked." Looking over at Tucker, you smile. "You seem the most eager to get started, why don't you lead? I imagine you know what you're doing."

"Damn right I do, sexy mama." He gropes your waist as he plants a feverish kiss on your neck. "Glad you're finally giving some attention to lil' ol' me. Go upstairs and get all pretty, lay that pretty body out on your bed while me and Bill pack up and grab a couple rubbers from the truck."

You quickly summit the stairs, and make the most of your time by stripping down to a simple pair of underwear, you didn't figure they needed to be impressed with any lingerie, and you could see Tucker getting annoyed and ripping one of your nicer sets when it came to untying ribbons. Sitting on the bed now, you can see them through the window loading up their. They seem to be loudly arguing about something, and you can't help but laugh. Eventually, Bill comes up.

"Sorry, we forgot we had another job on the docket, I didn't wanna cancel but Tuck is being a real hard ass about all-" He stops when he sees you, in nothing but panties, sat on the bed with a slight smile. You're skin all soft and bare, pretty lights outside dimming as it grows closer from evening to night. "Geez, um, you look beautiful." He mumbles, closing the door behind him.

You tuck your knees under your chin and look at him. "Thanks, that's so sweet. So, you guys are gonna stick around, right?"

Snapping out of his, Bill clears his throat and nods. "Yeah, yeah, Tucker's on a call out there rescheduling." He taps his foot nervously.

"Well, get cozy. Cmon, take off your boots and hat, I'm sure you're tired from working." He obeys quickly, eager to please. He stops after removing his hat though, and you furrow your brows. "Its gonna be hard for us to have sex if the rest doesn't come off too, silly." You tease, but his slightly sad demeanor gives you pause. "Whats wrong?"

"I just, I don't really know if you'll like what you see. Most people think of handymen and folk as all muscular, and I've got some muscle, but I'm not really anyone bodybuilder by any means. And I'm not skinny like Tuck, I'm-" His head fully tilts to the floor. "I'm a big guy. I don't want that to bother you."

You immediately shake your head and move to the edge of the bed, holding out a hand. He shyly takes it in his own, and you run a comforting thumb over it. "Nothing is wrong with that, Bill. I think you look plenty handsome, you look soft, and sweet. And everyone has some pudge." You put his hand on your stomach. "See, I've got a bit of a tummy, and sometimes I don't like my legs, but do you think that makes me less attractive?" You ask.

"I don't think anything could make you not look pretty." He admits, moving his hand to your shoulder.

"I'll undress you, how about that?" He offers no resistance, so you slowly undo his flannel shirt, eyes trailing hungrily over his hair chest and slightly pudgy stomach. "Very handsome." You kiss his collarbone and he sighs. He works on getting his jeans and belt off, before sitting beside you on the bed.

"Can I touch ya? I mean, feel up on your chest and stuff?" He asks. When you nod, his large, callous hands come to rest over your breasts, extremely gentle in their movements. "They're gorgeous, really. And I meant what I said, as much as I love the way you look, and how kind you are, I never said no dirty things about you. It was all Tucker, he' a horn-dog."

"Some men are like that, unfortunately. Hes lucky I think it's flattering when it's him." You chuckle, making Billy laughs as well as he continues groping, a little more confident as he tweaks at a pebbled nipple.

"He's always been a jackass, but he's just trying to seem tough. He really likes you." Bill begins to explain. "Tucker isn't nearly as upfront with his feelins' as I am, but I can't tell he likes you. He don't always stick to making dirty jokes about one girl, but you've been all the talks about lately. And he always beats me to the phone for work now, he used to always make me answer, but I know he's hopin' you'll call." He's clearly packing, and the sight of his erection makes your mouth water in anticipation.

"Hey, Tell you what. Tucker might be a bit, and I'm sure he'll want to be inside me the moment he gets through the door-" Bill laughs at that. "So why don't we get you feeling good first so he can have a go." Sliding off the bed, you put a cheek on his knees, hand on his hairy inner thigh as he swallows.

"Geez, you can do that, b-but only if ya wanna. I lost the remote one day, and they had this talk show with all these ladies in-in suits, and they said that blowjobs were demeaning-"

Ignoring his continuous, (if not sweet), ramblings, you tug at his boxers until his thick, leaky cock springs loose. "Shit, nearly took my eye out." You say, trying to lighten the mood. He's thick, a bright red tip and a firm base. His balls are large, but he did admit he was backed up. He's absolutely huge, you have to admit you're worried he's a choking hazard.

"I'm gonna start slow, yeah? Just kiss the tip?" You ask, and the flushed redneck just nods his head, eyes wide as he's looking down at you. You place a soft kiss on the leaking tip, making him suck in a breath as you slowly take it into your mouth to the back of your tongue. What you can't fit in, you work with your hand.

"Shit, am I too big?!" He asks when he hears you making a sloppy gag, but you gently squeeze his thigh to calm him. You just want this poor big man to relax. Humming a bit, the lights vibration seems to soothe him. "Feels, god, your mouth feels really good, missy." His hands grip the pretty floral sheets of the bed which he had admired so many time when working on your house. "You're so pretty, um, with me in your mouth, but also- I mean, you're pretty all the time, ah~"

He can't decide what's actually getting him closer to climax, actually getting his cock sucked, or just seeing you on the floor in front of him, so lovingly tending to him. Each movement is deliberate, and to feel like you care so much to do this, and act which the educated women on the tv said was degrading, means you must really care. He threads a shakey hand in your scalp, but not to tug or push, but rather to gently pet at your scalp. He lets out a groan which ends high pitched, adjacent to a whimper.

"So pretty. You're so pretty, m' lucky. Lucky you wanna... lucky you are making me feel good, s-shit." You can feel his length twitching in your mouth. "I'm gonna finish, I know it's early, sorry, m' sorry, I gotta finish. Pull me out, can I-" he rambling. "Can I finish on your chest, or I can go finish off in the toilet, or-" You just give him one last good suck, and with a swirl of your tongue you can feel a thick, warm substance filling your mouth. "Shit! Why didn't you, I didn't mean to, uhh~ fuck..."

When you pull off, making a shoe of swallowing, you might as well have taken a puritan to a strip club. Bill looks as if it's the most scandalous thing he's ever seen. Petting his limp cock slightly with your palm, you lean your head on his knee. "Was that good for you?" You ask, and he nods.

He's clearly speechless, and can't bring himself to say much about how good he feels. "It was good." He mumbles out. Biting your lip, you sit by him on the bed, hoisting yourself up. Now, it's your turn to feel unsure.

"Are you sure? You don't seem confident about that." You mumble, hand rubbing your arm. "I haven't given one of those in a long, long time. I'm sorry if it wasn't good. Was it cause you couldn't cum on my chest, I-"

"No, no!" He exclaims. "No, it was perfect, I'm just tired. 'Tuckered' out." He jokes, then clears his throat. "That was dumb. But, that was amazing, really, m' just not good at fancy words n' stuff." Taking a deep breath, he rather boldly puts a hand on your cheek. "Can I kiss ya? I mean, least I could do. I wanna show you really how pretty and nice I think you are, and that feels more proper than getting down there and kissing you on your-" He trails off, flushing again. "Unless you'd like that, I'd do it. It's the least I could mmph-!"

You press your lips to his, and as soon as he stops tensing you feel a large, calloused hand cup your cheek, practically palming your head. He's so gentle, as if afraid to break you. When you eventually break for air, he almost chases your lips. "I-"

"What the fuck!" Tucker stands in the doorway, hands on his toolbelt and hat turned back. "I take one call and yer' already all limp dicked? Shit, Billy, horny little fucker."

"Leave him alone, Tucker." You tease, leaning on Bill's shoulder momentarily. "I offered it to him. Don't listen to him, you were great."

Billy just shyly smiles and kisses your head once more as Tucker dumps his toolbelt and wifebeater at the door. "You already got yer dick wet, Billy, so clear the fuck out. I'd let you watch, but you were a slippery snake and slipped her yer fucking snake when I was going first, so git." Tucker orders as he flops unceremoniously onto your bed and crawls up towards you. You blow a kiss to Billy as he smiles and shuts the door, hearing Tucker mumbling some stupid line about 'cleaning your pipes'.

A few minutes later though, he's ashamed. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, it's dirty. Wrong. But as he sits in your bathroom, wiring up a little camera identical to the ones now in your kitchen and closet, he can't help but remember what Tucker had told him, just before he went out to make that phone call.

"She's gonna let us fuck her, she's okay with us seeing everything in person! If anything, a cameras less invasive. Shit, just set em' up, yeah? We know this neighborhoods full of rich assholes, and her locks are shit. Think of it as keeping that hot little piece of suburbanite ass safe."

[slvtforoldermen]

SKZ x Sex Drive

How horny are the members of Stray Kids: Most to Least.

Warnings: Smut duh. Discussions of sex drive and boundaries. Pegging implied.

PLEASE REQUEST IF YOU WANT ANYTHING 🤍🤍

Most

1. Jisung

- Are we surprised? He gets so desperate and so clingy like, all he wants is to be inside you or for you to be inside him~ He’s so soft and sweet but he’s so horny and desperate that he can’t help but cum the minute he slides into your pussy. He makes up for it though, he always does, because he eats you are so good after. He gets so upset if you don’t wanna have sex with him if you’re busy or just not feeling it. He’ll be pouty yes, but he would never EVER want you to feel guilty about not being in the mood.

2. Changbin

- Okay, imo this man is HORNY!! Like, his sex drive is high, not creepy high where he’s thinking about sex 24/7, but when he sees even an inch of your skin that you usually cover, even when it’s starting to get warmer after a cold winter and you wear shorts or a crop top for the first time, he can’t keep his thoughts away. He gets frustrated easily, so he’s not having sex with you everyday because he can just go to the gym if he wants to let off some steam, and if you’re not in the mood, he’ll drill it into your mind that he’s not mad before you runs off to the gym. He just, he loves you so much and you have to torture him by having such a sexy body. It’s not fair, let him like… eat your pussy or something, once a day at least?

3. Felix

- Guys, he just, he’s just so lovable and romantic when he’s horny. He’s so gentle. You’ll be in the kitchen and even though he’s stressed and horny out of his mind, he’ll still wrap his arms around your waist and kiss your neck softly, quietly begging asking if he can take you to bed. If you say no, he’ll be so so understanding, all he’ll want is a cuddle and to vent about what happened the day. He’s incredibly horny, yes, but he knows your boundaries and he wouldn’t ever dare cross them.

4. Bangchan

- Now listen here, when this man wants to restrain himself he will, but when he’s horny, he’s a monster. There’s a reason why the man wrote Railway, it’s because he’ll run a train onto you. When he’s mad or stressed, he’ll be rough, grunting and groaning as if he’s a… wolf 😏. But he wouldn’t hurt you, he wouldn’t ever try to hurt you. Even when he’s mad, he’ll still check up on you, and prep you. That’s a must now cmon, have you seen him? If you say no, he won’t even touch you unless you ask him to, he treats you a little too delicately, which sometimes pisses you off, and then you need to prove to him that you’re not made of glass.

5. Jeongin

- BARK BARK!! Sorry, it’s very clear he’s my bias wrecker. Anyway, Jeonginnie isn’t the horniest of the bunch, despite a lot of contradiction, he’s got a lot of self control when it comes to his sex drive. But when Jeongin fucks, Jeongin fucks. He’ll go down on you as if you was addicted to your taste (when he defo is but he won’t admit it), he’ll be sweet sometimes, smiling at you sweetly as you look so pretty under him, he’ll praise you and kiss you for hours. But when he’s stressed, GAWD DAYUM, daddy toast has arrived. Due to being the youngest, he has an inkling of a control kink, he’s not submissive at ALL, so he’ll be rough with you when he’s mad, unless you tell him to stop. If you tell him no, he’ll be slightly confused, because now he has a raging boner and no idea what to do, but always ends up jerking off. NEVER makes you feel bad, he loves you way too much for that.

6. Seungmin

- A lot of people think he’s horny, however, I think Seungmin’s sex drive depends on yours. If he wasn’t with you, he would probably jerk off like once or twice a week. He’s got better things to do with his time. But he finds how horny you get endearing, and that gets him horny. If he is horny and you’re not in the mood, you guys will end up cuddling and he’ll hold you. He secretly loves domesticity. If he’s frustrated he’ll be rough: if he’s calm, well… that all depends on you being bratty or not.

7. Hyunjin

- Like Changbin, Hyunjin has other vices, but unlike Changbin, he can keep his horniness down impeccably well. Ever since he started painting regularly, he doesn’t feel as horny as often. When he does, he’s so romantic. I can’t picture this man being rough: he’s a soft dom, period, the end. When you say no, he’ll offer to paint you, which is something you can’t say no to, he loves painting you, half of his paintings are just you. Overall, he’s a sweet lover who loves painting you, whether that be on an easel with acrylics, or on your body with his cum.

8. Lee Know

- The same situation as Seungmin. His sex drive depends on yours. He’s a talented lover and he’ll take his time with you. He’s gentle and loving, but when you want him to be rough, his sweet switch will turn off and he’ll be mean easy. I don’t believe this man is cold at all, he’s kind and gentle and loving… until you’re a brat and you break that barrier, then he’ll fuck you into tomorrow, with tomorrow’s aftercare being incredible. If you say no, he’ll be a little confused, because normally you’re the one initiating, so he feels a little insecure, but once you explain why, he’ll smile and cuddle you. Minho’s a cuddler, period.

Least

[endearng]

About you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x ex!reader Summary: You know a place that you go to remember Spencer Reid's face. You never thought you'd get to actually see him again. WC: 4.6k Warnings: brief mentions of Spencer's trauma (childhood, addiction); hints at poor coping mechanisms/mental struggles; miscommunication; running away. A/N: This is a mix between canon events and some things are fiction (mostly when it comes to the timeline of the show) and I picture later seasons Spencer. This is based on many songs from ttpd, but this fic came to mind when I was listening to 'About You' by the 1975. I really hope you guys like it. Feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated <3 masterlist

You sat on one of the park benches. Actually, it was on the park bench, near a tree, you used to occupy with Spencer after getting your favorite treats from the coffee shop nearby.

It was your first date as boyfriend and girlfriend and he had started reading to you once the chatter had died down a little bit. He looked beautiful that day, eyes leaving the book pages every now and then so he could catch a glimpse of you. Every time he did, you smiled at him. You were so enamored by his eyes that you didn't care if you were perceived as desperate or too lovestruck when he looked at you. You felt warm inside and for a moment, you thought it could last forever.

From that day on, whenever you could, you'd always go to that park and sit on that specific bench. You even carved your initials in it.

Now, as you caressed the old indentation, dark from all the time that had passed, you were all alone. A hole in your chest.

You were living in Virginia, about to get your Master's Degree. It was the time of the semester when everything seems to be piling up and you can never get the time to take care of it as you should. As you walked home at night, you witnessed a young couple walking into a dark forest, but you didn't mind — horny kids were everywhere and you were glad they had a nice way to let off some steam, not being one to judge someone’s kinks.

The next thing you knew, the FBI wanted to see you. They sent a cute, awfully young agent to your apartment, who introduced himself as 'Doctor Spencer Reid' and waved at you once you answered the door, telling you you had been the last person to witness that young woman alive. You froze, unable to look away from him, sheer shock crossing your intriguing, mesmerizing features. Spencer Reid took more than a minute to try to calm you down to have you answer his questions. Despite your head going miles per minute, you tried to help out as much as you could and were able to describe the man as you managed to recall some of his features.

Then, you had gotten Spencer's number to keep him posted if anything happened, since that unsub was kidnapping and torturing girls from your university. When they wrapped up the case to go home, Spencer went to your building to tell you they were returning to Quantico. You had grown fond of him, his presence a warm embrace compared to the chaos around you, so when he broke the news, you did feel a little disappointed, even though you knew that he would eventually leave. He was sensible to the matters around him, doing everything in his power and using his intelligence to help everyone around him. It made you grow a sense of hope in other people you haven’t felt in a while.

You took your study break a little earlier that night once you saw him at your doorstep, deciding you'd give him your time. A low "So, you're leaving..." escaping your mouth once he told you why he went to your place. To say goodbye. You couldn't conceal the sadness in your voice.

"Yeah. I just wanted to say goodbye. And to thank you, of course, you helped us a lot." He said, eyes never leaving yours.

"Anytime, Doctor," you joked. "I'm gonna miss you. Even if we've just met. Even if you had to be aware of something so terrible." You confessed. His eyes widened at you in surprise.

His eyes. Big, doe eyes glancing at you like you held the answers to the whole universe.

In that moment, you did. Not his education, not PhD's, plural, not anything he learned from all the books he read and certainly not his time in the bureau. You held the answers.

He chuckled, a little shy. Unable to tell you, verbally, that he would miss you, too. His eyes did the job, though. "Yeah, yeah. It was nice knowing you."

"Yeah, it was," you agreed, coming a little closer to him. You gave him a kiss on his cheek. Soft, warm skin against your lips making butterflies swarm in your belly. He smiled, widely, sincerely.

You wished he was yours.

You also wished he knew that you meant that, 'besides the bad guy and all the terrible things, it was fun meeting you because you are full of light. A masterpiece.'

"Take care, okay, doctor?" You whispered, slowly pulling away from him. “I’ll see you around.”

"Be safe,” he wished, “I hope so, in better conditions."

A few days passed and you got your first call from Spencer, which turned into a second, a third and when you noticed, you were scheduling hang outs. Those turned into dates when you started to go out more frequently to every new place you wanted the other to know. All of that and touching each other more often, more carefully, more passionately than regular friends did.

You simply sat there, your memories the only thing keeping you company, haunting you, besides the tears that pricked in the corner of your eyes. You missed him so much. You missed the time you had with him.

Two years into your relationship, things got more and more complicated. You struggled to keep up with his life and more often than not you seemed to keep much to yourselves instead of sharing things with each other. You never thought you'd share (funny wording) such a distant relationship with someone, let alone one you knew for sure there was so much love and respect. During your time together, you learned about Spencer’s past and some pieces fell into place; he was somehow explained by everything he had faced as a child, teenager and now as an adult — his mother’s condition, his dad walking away, the bullying, being abducted and its consequences. You held him through it all, when the memories and feelings of powerlessness washed over him.

Then, Spencer started to be away more often and the physical distance, enforced by the emotional one that slowly grew between you two, made you feel like you were an intruder in his life. So, you gradually started to hold yourself back from starting conversations. You rarely had his attention and you figured it was because his mind was always elsewhere.

Yours was, too. Back in a time when things were simpler.

As time went by, being around him, too quiet and far out of each other’s reach, simply floating in his orbit, felt like a heavy burden you had to carry in order to keep him in your life. He never opened up and since you didn’t either, you felt like you didn't have the right to suggest you two should fix things, so you let him be. Coexisting together in the same space, oceans apart from each other’s lives and struggles, never touching the subject. The result, of course, was that you grew apart.

It all ended, officially, when you decided to move away to get your Doctorate as an excuse to run away from the hard conversations that you knew would take place if you confronted him about where had things, where had you gone so terribly wrong. You were hell-bent on trying to turn your heartbreak and deception into something, into an achievement. Then, you both decided, albeit reluctantly, that breaking up was the best choice for you, since you’d move away. The part that there was already a huge gap between the two of you remained unspoken. You tried convincing yourself that it would be easier, since you’d never have to see him and you'd be okay being in past chapters of Spencer’s life. 

Funnily enough, it wasn't that simple.

You see, the heart is a tricky machine. The wording here is not random: it works, of course, to primarily pump the blood through your veins to make sure you are getting enough oxygen around your body and deliver waste objects, like carbon dioxide, back to the lungs, to be removed — Spencer had told you so once when you told him your heart beat for him in a corny deliver of a joke. Despite the fact that he was right, you can never anticipate how the heart will react once it has no access to the aim of its affections, after being cut off from their life. Worse: after being slowly dragged away from the one it was sure it would be able to adore for the rest of its pumping-function life. You figured that, maybe it would continue working for as long as it needs to, but not with the same devotion it once knew and now was deprived of.

That was how you passed the last few years of your life.

After Spencer, you weren't really interested in anyone. You tried to put yourself out there, made new friends, tried dating some people, traveled abroad, discovered more about yourself. Nevertheless, in the back of your hopeless mind and dejected heart, you held the memories you had created with him close to your very soul. When things got too quiet, it was him that you thought of. On a train, on the way home or to somewhere new and/or special, in the lazy mornings you spent by yourself, in the nights that got too lonely to bear by yourself, during your lunch breaks that you always seemed to remember how much he loved sharing those with you — stealing food from his plate, even if you didn't like whatever he was having, just so he could steal your dessert to make sharing equal. He got a sweet tooth after dating you.

Now, though, something felt off. You had spent years of your life pining and longing and hoping that you'd find your way back to each other in the end that now you didn't have the guts to search for him. You kept an eye on his life and could remember a thing or two of all his achievements and papers that were published in science magazines, a brief abstract ready to roll off your tongue if someone asked you about it. You tried keeping up with his professional life in order to feel closer to him, but the thing was, you didn't know if he had someone else, if he had moved on more easily than you (not that you had), if he had learned to cope a little better with the hardships of his job. You always said he needed some rest for his noisy mind.

Even the air in your hometown made you think of him. Felt like him: distant, missed and still plaguing your thoughts. It was the aftermath of running away for some time.

In hindsight, perhaps you had only shared fleeting moments with Spencer and it was a frail affair, doomed from day one, knowing how different your lifestyles were. When you got too fed up with your longing and inner romanticism over this relationship, you would try to convince yourself that you were better off without him. That being alone was better than to be by yourself in a relationship that you only kept for the sake of calling him yours.

Still, there was something missing. You didn't know what it was, but you were tired of wasting your time, waiting for a bus that never showed.

Or maybe it did, and perhaps you had missed it.

From afar, Spencer watched, dumbfounded, a figure that resembled someone he once loved so much, sitting on the bench he used to share with you. He still does love. Or maybe he doesn't. He doesn't know, really. He's been through so much, losing loved ones, losing his mother and enduring several trauma after leaving the FBI, never having the time to properly take in the happenings in his life. Could it possibly be you? He could never forget your form, no matter how many years passed and how hard he had tried to do that. His heart started slowing, oxygen lacking in his lungs. He felt dizzy. Was it a mirage?

Memories started to flood his mind and he was unable to move.

Daylight faded, announcing the beginning of the evening. Spencer listened as you read to him one of your favorite novels, The Hour of the Star, a Brazilian novel by Clarice Lispector. It definitely wasn't romantic, but you always made sure to use the correct tone whenever you were reading the characters' lines, and you paused every now and then to make comments and listened when he had one of his own. Those were precious, rare, quiet moments in his hectic life. He cherished them because of that, of course, but most importantly because you were with him.

Once you finished the chapter you were reciting, you noticed how dark it already was and that the lights of the city were already on, casting a soft glow over Spencer. He looked exceptionally, effortlessly beautiful that night. You smiled at him. "Shall we go home, Spence?"

"Yes," he accepted, helping you up. You thanked him with a kiss to his cheek, which made him flustered.

Years together and he could never get used to the effect your touch had on him, always wishing he could have more, more, more.

As you walked home together, he took your ring, a gift from him that was usually placed in your left hand, and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. Your reply was to kiss him senseless in public.

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him when you abruptly broke the kiss, looking back with a mischievous, happy expression on your face. He trailed after you, one single thought in mind: I'll never let you go.

The woman — he didn't want to deceive himself if she wasn't you, he was staring at her back, after all, so he thought it was better to be careful with his hopes —, had longer hair, fit better into her clothes, but her movements were scarily just like yours. From the way she looked around to the slight tilt of her head when you'd contemplate the park all those years ago. Spencer felt his thoughts clouding with the need to approach her, curiosity driving him to work on this instinct, but as soon as he moved to walk, he instantly halted his movements. What would he say?

"Hello?", "Is that you?" "Are you back?" "Are you real?" "Have you forgotten about me?"

The questions swimmed around his head like he had no control over his own mind. If there was a monitor to show every single thought running through his brain, it would definitely collapse, smoke clouding the air, telling how overwhelmed he felt. He decided on approaching as a passerby, walking as if he didn't want anything by it, acting nonchalant. He made his way closer to the bench, to the woman. 

She heard footsteps behind her, not too close, but still turned to search for the source of the disturbance, out of her daydreaming. You looked at each other for a moment that felt like an eternity — time stopped, the children stopped playing and the passersby stopped breathing.

As you turned around, your eyes found Spencer. The love of your life. You took in his appearance. His hair was long, unlike how it had been when you last saw him, and he didn't care about styling it as much as he did when he was younger, his curls unruly and a little messy, a little stubble growing on his face. His expression looked harder now, more tired, ripe. You couldn't quite know how to describe him properly. For a moment, you considered that he had hardened over the years, opposite from the caring, soft man you've met and loved ardently once.

On a surface level, looking at him made you feel like you've been loving a ghost. A memory, something that could never return.

Your mind suddenly felt empty. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"You?" You heard the question, uncertain, leave his lips in a low voice. Was it in your head or did you sense hurt?

Again, you wanted to speak, to say something, greet him, tell him you've missed him, ask him if he was okay. Nothing came out. Everything seemed inappropriate. Again, he beat you to it, coming closer to you, voice firmer. "What are you... I thought you'd left."

"I did."

"I know."

Silence. He got closer, moving to sit beside you.

"Yeah." Silence. Still looking at each other. "I came back a couple of months ago. Started visiting exactly three weeks ago, today." You revealed to break the silence, even though the idea that everything that came out of your mouth was improper still plagued your mind.

Spencer felt baffled. You looked different, more mature, even your style had drastically changed — you once wore colorful, baggier outfits, full of life and bright shades matching your personality (you even went shopping with Penelope and you exchanged fashion tips), but now, you wore more sober, neutral tones. Instead of the usual sneakers, or the Converse you both loved to wear together to match your outfits — his black and yours blue —, you wore black boots with heels. You looked grown. And it fit you. Still, your face was the same: your eyes held the same glimmer in them from all those years ago, your lips still as inviting as it ever was for him.

He licked his own, realizing his mouth was dry. "I come here every now and then when things get too heated." He confided, eyes never leaving your figure.

You smiled. A hole in his chest, desolation invading his being. The simple act still makes his machine of a heart ache and speed to reach its full capacity. Of breaking for you. "It's peaceful."

You knew that he seeked solace from whatever was happening in your memories together in that place. At least, you hoped so. You hoped, selfishly, that he thought of you as much as you thought of him, of his ghost. That he ached for you as much as you ached for him.

"Yeah."

Awkward silence engulfed the two of you. You didn't know where to look, but you could never stop scanning his face, taking in his features with care. "I like your hair. It fits you," you said.

He got closer, less than an arm's length between the two of you. Almost itching for you to touch his hair, eyes pleading for some mercy on your end. You've been awfully quiet and if meeting him maim you, you certainly have improved your poker face skills. "You've changed," he retorted. "I never thought I'd see you so different from, you know..."

You didn’t remember Spencer at a loss of words.

Too close. "I hope for the better."

"Why didn't you call?" He asked, brows furrowing.

Come to think of it, it was an excuse you had rehearsed quite a few times when you imagined this scenario, “I was settling, still trying to contact everyone, still finding my way around…”

“And you didn’t think of me?” His tone was wounded. He certainly dreamed you’d come back and was positively sure that you’d reach out to him. Of course, he was wrong.

“Of course I did. I just thought you wouldn't pick up,” you replied.

He didn’t know what to say. Of course he would pick up, but there was no way you could know about it nor trust him if he said so; why would you? You had left him because he built walls around him, cutting you off from his life, torturing you, slowly dragging the end of your relationship and he couldn’t explain why. Once you left, Spencer delved into his work life like never before. He flirted with women and even slept around, which he was aware was a poor coping mechanism, all to outrun the desertion of you, desperately wishing he could forget that he could feel alive in your presence. He even tried having a relationship. It was nice having someone around, now that he was grown and had made peace with some of his demons, but it was never like you and it was all that she was to him: someone around. He never felt that spark with her like he had felt with you, never again having a taste of the sensation that ran through him whenever he stumbled excitedly into your apartment when you invited him over, seizing the rare opportunities to be with you, happiness bubbling inside him. With his new girlfriend, it was quiet. He mistook it for the calmness he lacked within himself when he was with you, but it was just bland. Needless to say, he felt awful about straight up using a person to keep his mind off of you, but it was nice while it worked. He started longing for something he couldn’t even describe what it was.

One day, you guys met halfway, between the two cities you were both in. It was raining and you launched yourself into his arms once you recognized him. You had kissed him like a soldier's wife, for you sure definitely missed him like one — he had been away on a case which took longer than usual. “Hi,” you greeted, shyly, after giving him the hottest kiss of his life.

“Hi,” he smiled, a little flushed.

“I couldn't wait to get to you, Spence,” you confessed, arms pulling him back to hug you once again, his own engulfing your figure. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. I miss you all the time.” He said, burying his face into the crook of your neck, wet hair prickling on his skin. He peeled himself away from you, taking a deep breath. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

The squealed “Yes!” before you kissed him ardently once more was forever ingrained into his mind.

Amidst his reverie, you stood up from your seat. The wind tousled your hair slightly, so you used your left hand to tuck it behind your ear. The street lights reflected their light on a ring you had on your left hand. He recognized it instantly. “I should go,” you murmured, slightly graceless.

“You still have it.”

You looked at him, still sitting and nodded softly. You were hit with the realization that he also remembered you. It didn’t matter that it was such a small thing about you, relief flooded your veins at the very thought that he thought of you. “I do.”

You waved at him, your lips turned upwards shyly. You turned your back and started walking away from him. Again, he thought. And again, he let you, without putting up a fight, which he was aware that he should have done. The elephant in his chest was a light weight compared to the heavy truth dancing around in his throat. Said truth would become much bigger, a heavier burden for him to carry, once it made its way out of him. Speaking made it real. He knew it because every memory that he kept of you, in a sacred, untouched area of his own consciousness, was full of comfort after sharing uncomfortable truths.

It was like his heart screamed at him to keep searching, to keep trying for the person who made it beat faster. But his brain, foggy with all the logic and terrible, horrid things he had to face, decided it was best to keep himself away from you, to save himself the trouble of being the target of pity, or worse, being another person who left him.

From that day on, you’d casually visit the park, secretly wishing you could see him more. It didn't take too long until your wishes were granted, no matter how private you thought they were. Perhaps they were all over your face and he could still read you so easily. Despite the apparent capacity of reading your wants, you were positively sure that Spencer didn't know what to say, just like you. Everything, including him, felt as distant as you had left it. You weren't sure if you could go back, but running away was just as troublesome: you had to adapt in order to survive, but everyone else surrounding you was already fit to the environment. You stuck out like a sore thumb, unable to connect with anyone but the protagonist from past memories of what once was a happy relationship.

Every time you were there, you sensed someone looking at you shortly after your arrival. It was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you, to try to talk things through without rushing into anything, trying to conquer the other's forgiveness by sharing both ordinary and big moments you had during your time apart. As you sat down and talked and shared, you realized that you'd never stop loving him, not even for a second, not even if you could. You had tried and failed, and kept coming back for more to fall in love with the same person over and over.

These encounters quickly turned into the best moments of Spencer's weeks, getting to be filled in on the things he had missed in your life. You had shown him photos, your new degree, new friends, discussed details about your job and how things were in your family. All of that wrapped in intricate, subtle details on how much you'd turned into a person he was already feeling proud of. You had grown into a strong-willed woman who managed to keep your heart as pure as the day you had met him. You still had the traits that made you fall in love with him.

One day, you two were sitting on the bench and you pointed to your initials on it. “Heh, I remember that day. You kept worrying someone was going to show up and stop me from doing it.”

He smiled. “I'm glad no one did.”

“It's funny, isn't it?” You asked, eyes on the indentation, not expecting him to answer due the lack of context. He frowned. “I mean, us. Acting like we don't know each other just for the sake of spending time together.”

He thought for a moment. With your shameless comment, you were definitely daring him to say something. Daring him to make things real, but better this time. “I like that idea,” he said, getting you to look at him. “Don't you? We get to meet each other again. I get to meet you again and I get to make sure that, this time, I'll never let you go.”

“You still don't know me enough to say that with such sureness,” you said, feeling bashful all of a sudden. It was also one of your behaviors that got him so enthralled, once again. Your capacity of saying something and then act coyly, as if you didn't know what he was talking about. Almost backtracking on whatever you had said that was a little more risky than the usual chatter.

He wouldn't let you.

“I want to.”

His tone made you speechless. Your expression turned into one of sheer, pure enchantment. It told him everything he needed to know.

Everything bad was now under the bridge and you could finally have each other back after being so patient.

He now remembered what it was that he missed so dearly in his life.

You.

[seat-safety-switch]

With the ever-present rush towards convenience, so many sit-in restaurants are becoming take-out-only instead. Let's be honest: none of us really want to go outside and talk to people in order to get food. Just flip that app and bingbong® yourself a drunk order of fried treats for only $25 in fees.

Pizza Hut was one of the first to abandon the pull of large square footage, throwing millions of nostalgic red plastic cups into industrial grinders in a mad rush to stop bleeding so much goddamn money all the time. Today, those cups are worth $250 on eBay, so they look pretty stupid now, don't they?

The problem with all this is, in the time of our foreparents, it was real hard to fake the existence of a restaurant. If you went to a Pizza Hut, it was a real-ass physical building. It probably had not been copy-pasted together by a bunch of Taiwanese scam artists using Google Image Search fifteen seconds before you appeared. That was more of a Taco Bell thing. Nowadays, you can't be sure. Computers treat bullshit the same as any other kind of shit, so sometimes you'll be ordering from a completely imaginary restaurant. Feels weird, doesn't it?

As with many other cases in my adult life where I figured out everyone was just faking it, I decided to try and make some quick money. Papa needed a new engine, you see, and Slant Sixes don't exactly grow on trees anymore. With just a couple wonky Excel spreadsheets and a glob of code the size of Upper Tonawanda, I was in business with Switch's Fun-Time Pizza, an entirely non-fictitious restaurant whose address happened to be at the same place as a Pizza Hut.

Folks would pay me money, and then I'd quickly pay Pizza Hut to have a pizza ready by the time the delivery guy rolled up. Nobody seemed to care that the box said the wrong thing, and soon I was collecting fat stacks of money for doing nothing at all, just like the platforms themselves. This went on for a few weeks, fattening my bank account for slaughter. Until the first complaints came in, that is.

Yes, friends: it turned out that the local Pizza Hut had hired someone who wasn't very good at washing their hands. Soon, I was handing out big-time refunds on behalf of a massive international corporation, except I was doing so out of my own ill-gotten profits. My rickety, strung-together bullshit engine made entirely out of spreadsheets and chewing gum simply could not comprehend the idea of a refund, much less one for a weak human phenomenon such as food poisoning. Soon, all the money was gone.

Have I learned something from this whole experience? Yes. The most important thing in food service is to wash your hands thoroughly before (and after!) handling the customer's meat. The second most important thing is to charge at least a hundred percent premium over your supplier, to leave room for little hiccups such as this.

That's way easier to do if you position yourself as an upscale luxury restaurant, such as Lord Switchington of Canterbury's Refined Palate Pizza Parlour For Bourgeois Assholes Only, which will be launching this weekend in the very expensive neighbourhood next to mine. Hopefully their Pizza Hut is a little bit better at keeping the bathroom soap dispenser stocked.

[kooqitas]

#pairing: cheater!jeonghan x reader ♡ smut [18+ mdni], pwp ♡ wc: ~1400 #synopsis: you always knew jeonghan was worthless, you just didn't expect to see him at a school parent meeting with his wife #warnings: cheating!!!!! rough sex, semi-public sex, degradation, breeding kink, spitting, slapping, humiliation, jeonghan is dom and y/n brat. wonwoo mentioned. unprotected sex. #warnings: ok, maybe i went a little over the moral line, but considering that i fantasize abt kpop idols having sex i don't think morals matter that much here… ★ m.list | inbox :D join my taglist

you knew you were fucked when he walked into that class.

yes, the guy you had been fucking without any strings attached almost daily for two weeks was at the school's parents reunion at that exact moment. the problem? you were the teacher and he was the father of one of your students... with a huge fucking ring on his finger and his WIFE by his side.

eunbin was so cute, as always, the girl with asian eyes loved you as her teacher, and made sure to show you how much her father and mother who loved each other so much were there, after going through a five-year wedding anniversary dinner last night.

you tried to be professional, you tried your best not to show how pissed you were about the whole situation, but honestly yoon jeonghan should go fuck himself!

it was the worst time of your life, a student's mother telling you how much her daughter loved you, and all you could think about was her husband cumming inside your cunt. god...

you don't know what the hell he came up with, but after the meeting was over, while you were gathering your things in your class, jeonghan appeared behind you.

"you told me you were single!" you asked, visible mad.

"well... maybe i hid some information..."

"fuck you!" you said, stupidly.

"look, it's just a... detail" he said.

one detail? seriously? you shameless son of a bitch- you wanted to tell jeonghan to go kill himself, but you took a deep breath, trying to be professional about the situation

"your wife wouldn't like to see this, you better let me go."

he chuckled, now leaning in as he placed a hand on your waist, holding you in place. 

“you are probably right, but who says that i care? do you care?”

“yes. i do!”

“really?” he laughed. his mouth on your ear now, his hands started moved over your body. “then why don’t you push me away?”

“you are married, jeonghan”

“so? my wife isn’t here, is she?” he placed a wet kiss on your neck, that make you gasped. “maybe you are enjoying this…”

“do you have a free relationship?” jeonghan didn’t answer, he just laughed again. “that’s so fucking wrong. if i knew that you are married, nothing will happened in that bar, and after… what that fuck, who owns the apartment where we had sex?”

“is mine. only mine!” he laughed.

“did she cheated you too? is it some type of revenge?”

“no” he shook his head. “i’m cheating cause i want you… so bad.” his hands start moving up your thighs, pushing up the hem of your dress. “stop acting like you really care for it, you aren’t pushing me away”

“eunbin… your kid…”

“i don’t care!” he kissed your neck. “she isn’t here, is she?”

“but if she discover it..”

“then she wouldn’t have to discover it, that’s the whole point, pretty!” he kissed your neck again, a lot of wet kiss when he touched your tight.

“you are disgusting!”

“and you are a whore! so we match a lot…”

jeonghan kissed you

he kissed you in a wild way, in the naughty and delicious way that you liked so much, his tongue dominating the kiss, his hand roaming your body without any shame, his waist glued to yours making you feel his cock in his jeans, fuck, jeonghan was the devil!

“i’m gonna tell everything to your wife!”

he laughed, and grabbed your hair, forcing you to look at him.

“are you threatening me with that? really? and what will you tell her? that you are letting a married man use you as he pleases?”

you hit him in the face, hard, before spitting out the words that were in your head.

"don't treat me like a slut."

jeonghan laughed, his typical sadistic laugh, lightly caressing his cheek before turning to you again.

"but as far as i know, a woman who moans, fucks and cums for a married man is a slut!"

you wanted to resist, you wanted to hit jeonghan and expose to his wife how much of a scoundrel he was, but you did the opposite, you kissed him, kissed him as if you needed it, kissed him sitting on the table and letting him have free access to between your legs.

"you're pathetic!" you muttered as he knelt down, leaving kisses on the inside of your thigh as he lifted your skirt.

"and you're a disgusting whore! you know, we deserve each other!"

"be quick, you've already given me enough trouble for today!" you complained.

"i'm leaving on a 'business trip' on tuesday, i promise i'll fuck you properly in my apartment" he mocked, making it clear that the times he slept with you were because he made up to his wife that he was working.

but he got the message, undoing his belt and pulling your panties to the side, mocking how wet you were with the whole situation.

"what's up? my little bitch got wet watching me be a good father? do you have some kind of breed kink, huh? do you want me to cum inside you, to get you pregnant?" Jjonghan put two fingers inside you, just to make sure how wet you were, and as he imagined, you were fucking wet. "imagine how beautiful you'd look pregnant of me."

"shut up, i'd rather die than have your child!"

"you say that but you're spreading your legs for me, like a slut!" jeonghan pulled your hair hard.

"i do charity work for motherfuckers sometimes"

jeonghan spat in your face, making you laugh, you knew you had affected him and that was what you wanted.

and the next second he was inside you, fucking you as if your office door wasn't unlocked, fucking you as if his wife wasn't waiting meters away in the parking lot, fucking you as if he were a single man...

jeonghan threw your bag on the floor, laying you down on the table and fucking you even harder, holding your mouth so you wouldn't moan loudly and draw even more attention (as if the table shaking wasn't enough)

"sluts like you are only good for this, full pussy and covered mouth!"

"what's the name of that friend of yours?" you questioned, making jeonghan arch his eyebrow in confusion "ah, jeon wonwoo..."

"what's wrong with wonwoo?"

"i'm sure he'd love to help you keep my mouth quiet!"

"slut!" jeonghan growled before thrusting into you again, this time angrily, squeezing your neck and grabbing your waist. "you're mine, only mine, this pussy is my toy!"

"no, love! a slut's pussy has no owner... and you know it!"

jeonghan's eyes darkened, you had never seen him hate him, but that was exactly what he was feeling at that moment, jeonghan tightened his grip on your neck, leaning his body against yours and thrusting into you even harder.

"you're not even crazy enough to fuck with Wonwoo, i'll end his life," he growled once more.

"i'm not yours, jeonghanie," you teased him.

"you're. mine. only mine. my personal whore. my toy. my bitch. mine. mine. mine."

and you cummed.

yes, you admit it, it's pathetic to come with a married guy calling you 'mine', but you came.

"tell me you're not mine now, damn it! tell me you're not mine after you've come on my dick!"

jeonghan kept thrusting into you, but all you did was seriously tell him to stop.

he respected you, still confused by the situation.

"what's wrong? did i do something wrong? is everything okay? did i hurt you?"

"i came!" you answered simply.

"yes, i never let you not come..." you laughed, leaving him even more confused.

and then you stood up, still staggering a little, but lowering your skirt and panties, and picking up your bag from the floor.

"what are y-"

"your time with that whore here is over, jeonghan... by the way, tell wonwoo that i changed my mind and now i really want to sit on his cock."

"he... he... WHAT?"

"shit, i thought he told you that at that party at his house he tried to fuck me while you were sleeping." you laughed, knowing that you wouldn't be the only one to find out things that night. "good night, by the way... your wife pays me not to lower eunbin's grades... but i don't think she's gonna tell you about that, right... i'd have to explain to you what other secrets i keep."

and then you closed the door, leaving a confused Jeonghan.

and hard.

♡ @highvivvy, @bath1lda, @unlikelysublimekryptonite, @gyuguys, @aaa-sia

[botslayer]

If the fire, sulfur, black iron, and devils every which way didn't give it away, both of us aren't in a place you want to be after you die. I'd offer you a drink but the only things they offer you usually came out of... Well. You. My own blood has a pretty good palete.

You don't have to panic. Not yet. You aren't dead, again, not yet. You're only here because everyone gets a fair warning. So change your ways, yadda yadda, find Christ, yadda yadda... Can you tell my heart isn't in it? Good. At least they'll vary up the torture for it. You get sick of eating hunks off of yourself and still being able to feel it the whole time.

Oh... You want to know what I did for that punishment? Well. It started when I was alive. I killed a man in self defense. Robber broke in, I shot him. And it was all down hill from there. I moved out to the woods after the third guy... Mostly because the best I could do there was plead manslaughter.

Anyway. I bought a plot of land not too far from a hiking trail, built a little shack. Turned it into quite the operation. I was a one-man Sawyer family. I had butcher knives, cleavers, cutting boards, sausage stuffers... I remember the first time I ate a man in those woods. The first woman was alright. I screwed up the spices for her liver, though. Live and learn. All in all? I musta got about twelve or thirteen hapless hikers where they needed to be. And I ate like a king for six years.

Why only six? Throw another skull on the fire and I'll tell you... Thank you. See. One night, another guy came traipsing up the path. Another lost and weary traveler. Two in one day, would you believe it? But winter was coming. So a quick stock up in the event of being snowed in was necessary. Problem was I was outside having a smoke and I was still draining the latest one. If he saw that there'd be no mistake what I was up to.

So here comes a seven foot slab of man. Treating the cold around him like it wasn't much of an issue. One thin hoodie over a thin T-shirt and some overalls. I took to a short conversation with him as I sized him up. He had about a foot of height on me and he was built. Big country, cornfed son of a bitch.

"Who're you?" "Who are you?" "Why are you on my property?" "You can own property this close to a hiking trail?" So on and so on... And then I asked if he knew how to get back to the trail. It was getting dark, you see. I offered to help him back if He'd just let me nab my hiking boots. He agreed and I tried to circle around him. I figured he would still be looking at my front door. Waiting like a big old dog.

But when I exited the side, butcher knife in hand, he was holding a woodcutter's axe. Still looking at the door though. I could tell his tool wasn't mine. Crazy bastard must have had it strapped to his back... I took the chance and leapt at him from the side. He shook me off but the fight forced the door to my cabin open and he got a good look at the woman on the hook. I had left the TV on and was listening to it as I smoked, lit her up enough to see.

I'll remember until eternity, when else is there to remember to down here? But I'll remember until eternity what he said after I got to my feet. "Well... This is awkward," and I think it was a joke. I don't know. But I couldn't help but laugh. "I suppose it is."

But we looked at each other... And we kept sizing each other up. I knew my chances of surviving a face-to-face fight with a bigger man with more reach were minimal... If I recall correctly, he didn't want to fight. "We don't have to do this. I could help you butcher if you want..." But I tell you no lie when I tell you meeting a kindred spirit. One so forceful. One so... Comparatively Jovial. I was in love. And love makes us all do crazy things.

The next few minutes for both of us was a game of hack-and-seek. And we were both it. I don't know if he felt the same, but I think we were both having fun slinking around my house and yard. It was a hell of a way to spend my last hour or so on Earth.

But he caught me. I rounded just the wrong corner and he had me by the scruff of my neck. His weapon, unwieldy as it was with a single hand gave me just the time I needed. I stabbed him in the throat just in time to feel the axe crack though my rib cage and split my heart. I died on top of him... I remember trying to kiss him but I don't think I got close enough to his chin.

And now I feel it is another punishment for me. To never see my darling Francis again... I take some solice knowing he hasn't seen me, either... Maybe it means he felt the same. Who can say?

... Your presence in this realm is fading... Well, your arm is translucent, that's usually a dead give away, no pun intended... Just remember. Change your ways. Or you might end up with a good view of what's happening to everyone else while what happens to you, whatever it is, goes on and on. And on. And on. And on. And on.

After successfully leading your next target to your murder-shed in the woods, they pull out an axe from themself and proclaim "oh, this is awkward."

[disaster-j]

Hey

I like Lou. I loved him as Tommy and the few scenes I've seen of him as Rocker have been very endearing. He's a charming actor and he's been a very likeable guy so far. Not to mention a lot of us feel justifiably bad about the way he was treated by fans throughout all this.

I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with the "lou got me in the divorce" movement, I'm one of em myself. And I love the idea of coming together to be his fans bc he's genuinely won so many people's affection with so little screentime. But.

We should keep in mind that he's just a guy at the end of the day. He's a person who has been very kind and respectful and yes we have all the reason to like him but it'll be a disservice to yourself and to him to forget that he's just a person.

Don't put him on a pedestal. Don't set imaginary standards for him that he may not meet later on and will leave you feeling like your heroes are dead all over again.

Stan respectfully and responsibly.

[seaspringangel]

kiss kiss kissing game - kinich

you and kinich play a little kissing game. no biggie, right?

pairing: kinich x gn!reader

warnings: none! just pure fluff <3

a/n: so not only is it pocky day, it is also me and kinich's birthday + i had apt by rosé and bruno mars on loop!!!!! so i wrote this dedicated to my new obsession and birthday twin. i hope you guys enjoy <3333

“Kinich, would you like to play?” 

Your smile was truly saccharine, possibly more sugar-sweet than the chocolate glaze that covered the thin stick you waved in front of his face, and it made Kinich’s heart skip a beat. 

He was too caught up in staring at you to answer at first. He stared at how your eyes danced with such pretty whimsy, how your face glowed like a star in the grass before him, forever bright and burning, the setting sun behind your back dousing you in a golden radiance that sent him silently spinning, much like the world on its axis.

Staring at your lips, still stained with fruit juice, glistening red as if you’ve been passionately kissed. Would you like to be kissed?

“Kinich?” You tilt your head to the side, brows furrowed in such an innocent way that he feels his heart racing again, making him feel like he was standing on the needle-point edge of a mountaintop, ready to fall into the embrace of something greater.

Kinich could only hope his face didn’t betray the emotions creating a storm within him, lest he be blown away. “I heard you. Play what?”

You smile even wider, even brighter, even lovelier. “The pocky game!” 

…what?

“What.”

You laugh, mirth shimmering in the air around you like a veil spun from the fabric of your joy, and Pryo Archon above, how he wanted to lose himself in you - in the bell chime of your laughter, in the light that sang from your very being.

“It’s a game, like the ones you compete in here in Natlan.” You glance up at him beneath the butterfly wings of your lashes, a little dream unfolding before Kinich’s eyes. “...but without, y’know, the maiming. Or the potential death.”

Kinich couldn’t help but feel his lips quirk up slightly at your cheekiness. You always seem to make him smile, even without meaning to. 

“That’s a shame. I was looking forward to being resurrected again actually.”

You roll your eyes. “Veeeery funny. Anyway, this game is simple and silly, and it may not be as adrenaline-inducing as bungee jumping or the like but I think we’ll both find it fun. And I figured…”

Suddenly, your smile becomes soft and Kinich doesn’t know what he’d do if you kept looking at him like that, with your pretty eyes crinkling with a tenderness that stoked a blaze hotter than Turnfire within him. 

“...I figured since it's your birthday too, we could do something silly, I guess. Together.”

You were still smiling, but there was an undercurrent of vulnerability in your voice, swelling like a tide. You just wanted to make him happy. You just wanted him to be carefree and unburdened as you were, even if was for one day, and how could he possibly turn you away when you looked at him like that, pure glitter in your eyes?

It was as easy as plunging head-first off the edge of a cliff.

“Whatever game you want me to play,” Kinich said softly, “I’ll play it. Just for you.”

You lit up, a dazzling flame of happiness made from Kinich’s dreams. 

“Okay so,” you begin to explain, “I put one end of the pocky in my mouth, and the other end goes in yours.”

You press the chocolate-covered end of the pocky stick against his lips, and his lips parted to allow the treat entry. The sugar of it rested plainly on his tongue.

You laugh a little as you eye how stoic he looked still. If only you knew how he felt on the inside. 

“To play, we have to start eating our ends. Whoever mouth lets go of the pocky first, loses. Or…”

And this is when you begin to blush a little, and Kinich relished in the way your cheeks pinked like the clouds rolling overhead, so sweet and beautiful. “Or we both get to the middle and kiss, making it a tie. But it’s not a big deal or anything!”

Kissing you, with your cheeks so flushed and your lips looking so petal-soft. That was certainly a challenge worth more than its weight in gold. And a challenge he wouldn't back away from.

And for the rest of the day, and beyond that, with chocolate and satisfaction still melting on his tongue, nothing could’ve compared to how sweet you tasted, how soft your lips were against his, plump as a daisy, just as addictive as the fruit juice coloring your mouth painting his own like smeared lipstick. A kiss kiss kiss here and there until he had you laid out on the grass, saccharine and sugar sweet all for him.

tags: @houseofsolisoccasum