#Air Bowl Trainers

[snkrbonbon]

Nike Air Bowl Trainers (1995)

[merakiui]

Bro. Vargas can get it! And Crewel, too! I'd let that mf use my mouth as an ashtray. I need that man to whip me. WHIP.ME.PLEASE

D1 masochist over here! The way I'd be choking on that dickk. Imagine him saying "down girl" while he as you ass up in the air

*exit stage right*

c c ccc c c cc ccc c c ccccccc CREWEL!!!!!!!!! OTL

I am so unwell about him,,, please come back, anon!!! Speak your Crewel truth!!!! <3 oh, to be the disobedient pup he keeps in a human-sized cage...... training you to be good but only using methods that trainers use on dogs.... putting a pretty collar around your neck, making you eat and drink from dog bowls, the sadistic pet play.......... AAAAAAAAAAAAA. Imagine riding him and he's tugging at your leash. You cum when he tells you to, not on your own. A good dog knows not to be so needlessly messy. >:( he's so fine omg,,,, I need him carnally.

That voice line he has about how he drove up North for the winter holiday and spent his time enjoying hot apple cinnamon cider..... I NEED HIM RIGHT NOW!!!!!!! orz orz imagine vacationing in the snowy mountains with Crewel. Sex in front of the fireplace,,, suddenly I'm no better than a dog, always barking for him. >_<

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 3: Medusa's Snake

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

mmafighter!sukuna ryomen x femcoach!reader

Sypnosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. Female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Yuuji, Choso and Sukuna are brothers. Toji is a nice parent. Praising. Warnings: Cursed words. Mentions sexual harassment. Word Count: 2696 words. Author's Note: I just finished and I could finally write this *cries happily*

Night was slowly falling over Tokyo. The small, cozy ramen bar stood out with its warm lights and glowing signs, The air was filled with the captivating fragrance of bone broth bubbling in the pots. The dim lighting enhanced the skill of the chef, whose expert hands moved gracefully as he masterfully prepared the noodles at the counter. The murmur of diners, mixed with the sound of steam and noodles cooking, created a gastronomic symphony.

In the middle of the stage, Yuuji, Megumi and I were there to relax after another day of hard training. The delicious broth and the comfort of carbs soothed the stress we had accumulated over the past few days. Sukuna and I have been training restlessly for the past month for the fight that was coming up in a few days. Toji Fushiguro is a superb Muay Thai fighter, a real threat to a boxer like Sukuna. We had to be prepared.

"My brother didn't let you rest?” Yuuji asked me when he saw me stretching my neck with some help from my hands.

"Yes, he told me not to even dare to think about resting because he would kick me out of the gym,” I replied. The stress in my neck came back from just thinking about his tantrums.

I understood that he was nervous about the fight. He had an important title to defend, and every fighter in his weight class and in back-to-back weight classes wanted it. Sukuna is just a king protecting his crown, but this was already too much. All his tension was slowly creeping up on my back. I had to admit that his dedication is admirable. While we were eating a delicious bowl of ramen without worrying about ruining our diets, Sukuna was still training in the empty gym.

“Sukuna always acts like this. It only gets worse with every fight,” Megumi explained without looking away from his bowl. 

“Doesn’t he have a hobby or something like that? If he keeps tensing his muscles like that, it could be bad in the long run.” I knew from experience. 

“He does, but we can't help him with that.” Yuuji shook his head. 

“What? Why not?” I asked. I was his trainer, I should know. 

Yuuji looked for a second at Megumi as if he was hesitating whether to tell me or not. It was little moments like these that made me understand why they were friends despite having two completely different personalities. They could communicate with just their looks and a few gestures. I wish I had a connection like that with someone. Yuuji let out a sigh and went back to eating, completely evading the question.

“Why don't you want to tell me?” I asked him directly. 

“It's just… It's not like he gets relaxed by it. It's more like a good luck ritual,” he explained reluctantly. 

Good luck rituals are common in any sport. There are soccer players who sing an anthem before taking the field, baseball players who wear a special pair of socks, and fighters who tattoo talismans on their backs. I was used to that kind of thing, and I'm sure Yuuji was too.

“There's nothing wrong with that,” I said. 

“It is because Sukuna doesn't know how to hold back,” Yuuji replied.

I could sense that he wanted to avoid the topic. I didn't know exactly why, but he must have had a good reason to do so, so I decided not to insist and continue eating, but we were no longer talking. It wasn't an awkward silence, we were just tired of the subject and needed to relax.

“Yuuji, she's his coach, maybe you should tell her,” Megumi commented after finishing his bowl… 

“It's unnecessary,” his friend answered.

“Gojo knows about it, I think she should also know in case Sukuna tries something, don't you think?” With that comment, I knew that this was no ordinary ritual. 

“You're right.” Yuuji sighed before looking at me. “The thing is… Sukuna must have satisfying sex the night before the fight for good luck,” he finally blurted out. 

"That's not so weird”. I commented before shoving another mouthful of ramen into my mouth. "Why didn't you want to tell me? You didn't want to embarrass your brother?” 

“Because that's why he and Choso don't talk to each other anymore.” Yuuji started with the story.

Days before the night Sukuna became the champion of the light heavyweight weight class, the three brothers had dinner with their parents. At this dinner, Choso excitedly introduced his fiancée. She was his love and pride, his better half. According to Yuuji, she was a very pretty and nice girl, and as usual, Sukuna avoided her like the plague because he was not interested in meeting her at all. 

Since the championship was held in Las Vegas, Choso and his fiancée stayed in the same hotel as Sukuna because Choso wanted to show her how cool his brother was (despite being a complete jerk). The night before the fight, Choso woke up in the middle of the night and realized that his fiancée wasn't in bed with him. She wasn't in the bathroom, and she didn't take her phone with her, but she took her room key with her. 

He went out to look for her and couldn't find her anywhere. Since he didn’t speak English well, he went to Sukuna for help. When he knocked on his door, his fiancée came out of the room with her hair matted and her panties in her hand. He knew about Sukuna's lucky ritual, so he knew perfectly well what had happened. His fiancée cheated on him with his damn brother. Choso went crazy and jumped at Sukuna, but he knocked him out before he could do anything. 

Choso woke up in the hospital bed with Yuuji next to him. According to him, he had never seen him so broken and betrayed in his life. He cried all night while his older brother was preparing for their fight. He knew Sukuna could be many things, but he never thought he would be capable of being a traitor. Needless to say, despite everything, Sukuna won the fight.

"What a jerk.” I grumbled through my teeth. 

"My brother doesn't care about anyone or anything. He can't be changed. I don't know where my parents failed in his upbringing,” Yuuji mentioned with a sigh. 

"That's why you should be careful, Sukuna is capable of doing anything to win,” Megumi warned me.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for telling me.”

The days passed, and the fight was one day away. After a tedious trip to Dubai and a quick stop to unpack at the hotel. The team, Sukuna and I headed out bright and early to the official weigh-in with the fight referee and judges. After Sukuna had lunch, we headed to the exhibition weigh-in at the hotel's convention center. This is where the fighters must appear to be brawling before the fight to get the public's attention. There is also a press round for them to publicize the event during the day. 

Sukuna, Gojo and I were called to the stage along with Toji Fushiguro and his trainers to be the next to go on stage. Sukuna was wearing his headphones and had a very unfriendly look on his face. Gojo asked him to take them off, and he did so between tantrums as I mentally prepared myself to go on stage. This reminded me of the good old days. 

As we walked out onto the stage, the press cameras began to flash and the murmur of reporters manifested itself in the room. I kept my face as serious as possible as Sukuna and Toji greeted each other and prepared for the weigh-in. I watched as he took off his hoodie to reveal his tribal tattoos proudly to the audience. The fighters reluctantly greeted each other with hurtful insults and stepped on the scales. The weight was somewhat different from the morning, as both had eaten breakfast at the hotel buffet. Toji weighed 220 pounds, while Sukuna weighed 215.

The audience applauded when it was announced that both passed the weigh-in. The only thing left was the press round. After Sukuna and Toji exchanged threats, all of us  sat at a long table on stage. Two coaches between the fighters to keep things from getting personal. The emcee asked if anyone had any questions, and the requests bombarded him. The emcee decided to give the floor to the reporter in front of me.

"I have a question for the Medusa’s Snake! How did the man-hating former welterweight champion of the women's division become the trainer of the champion with clear anger issues!?” The reporter exclaimed so that everyone present could hear the question. 

I could feel Sukuna's eyes drilling into my skull for me to turn around and give him explanations on the spot. I carefully approached the microphone to speak loud and clear. 

"I may not like men, but I like champions. I always belong to the winning team," I answered while the photographers kept flashing me.

Medusa’s Snake was the nickname I was baptized with in the first fight I had against a man in the first gym I went to. That fighter was a disgusting man from my past who harassed me in and out of the gym. He would always watch me, try to touch me and follow me home. That was until one day I asked him to train with him, since he was so interested in me. He agreed and during the fight he tried to touch my tits, that was until I kicked him and knocked out a couple of his teeth. He ended up in the hospital and didn't wake up until a day later. From then on, I was nicknamed that way, and my brand as a champion was to be mean to men but honest with women, which wasn't too far from the truth.

"How is your neck? Can you train the world champion in that condition?!” Another reporter asked. 

I used to be the world champion in my weight class until during my fight with Maki Zenin, I fell badly on my neck and tore it. I won the fight, but I lost a lot of range of motion in my neck. The doctor ordered me to rest for an indefinite period of time. It's been like that for almost two years now.

"I am fine, but I'm not fully recovered. My focus at the moment is on doing everything I can to keep Sukuna as champion,” I replied.

"Mr. Ryomen! It is known that you are very strict with admissions at your gym and that there are no women! Why the change?!” Another reporter asked. Sukuna took a few seconds to think about his answer, I could already imagine what stupid thing he would say next. 

"I chose her because she is the best,” he answered without further ado.

A small smile infiltrated my face before I could hide it. That response caught me off guard. It was the first time Sukuna had recognized me like that. I'd be lying if I said it hadn't been nice to be recognized for the first time in two months of work. In fact, it's the first time I've been recognized as a trainer in a long time. Being a woman in a male"dominated world is complicated. You have to be good enough to be accepted, but not be the best so as not to overshadow any man with fragile masculinity.

After a couple more questions and an exchange of threatening hints, we went back backstage. We were about to head to the hotel gym to warm up a bit, but Sukuna stopped me halfway down the hall to confront me. A move that not only seemed strange to me, but also to the team.

"Are you a world-class fighter?” Sukuna questioned me. He couldn't be serious. I was going to answer, but Nanami stepped in. 

"Didn't you know that?” He asked him to make sure he wasn't joking. 

"Did you think we just brought you some random pretty girl so you could finally learn floor techniques?” Gojo interjected in amusement. Sukuna got flustered about the hidden intention of his coach’s questions. 

"I don't waste my time watching female fighting,” Sukuna answered, slightly blushing with embarrassment for being the only one who didn't know who I was. 

"That explains why she beat you up the first day,” Itadori commented with a chuckle. 

"I'm not surprised coming from Medusa’s Snake," someone said in a thick voice behind us. 

It was no other than Toji Fushiguro. A tall, strong and powerful man. A fighter easily recognizable in the crowd. If you put a bag over his head, people could still recognize him by his large physique. Unlike his body, his appearance was quite plain. He had a haircut that was not so long, but not so short. He wore a black sweatshirt, gray shorts and sandals from the brand that sponsors him. Despite his dangerous reputation, he had a pleasant smile, decorated with a small cut on his lip. 

"It's nice to finally meet you,” he greeted me directly, completely ignoring his opponent. 

It felt strange for him to approach me in such a friendly manner, but I still accepted his greeting. Megumi appeared behind him, looking like he was wondering the same thing I was.

"Do you know her, dad?” Megumi asked him in confusion. 

"Do you remember the fight your cousin Maki lost three years ago?” Toji asked without taking his eyes off me. Megumi nodded. “She finished the fight with a perfect Kimura*, someday you should teach me how to do that,” he flattered me with a proud smile, but it vanished when Sukuna came between us. 

Kimura: A technique whose main objective is to exert pressure on the opponent's shoulder and elbow joint to achieve submission in various wrestling disciplines.

"Not even in your dreams, old man.” Sukuna barked with a frown. “She signed a contract saying she belongs to me, so don't even try.”

Seeing Sukuna so defensive about keeping me on his side was strange. After the last two months, he has done nothing but scold me every time I do something wrong in his eyes. Toji didn't even flinch at his threat. I poked him in the ribs to get him to step aside and let me talk. 

"Thanks for the compliment and the offer, but Sukuna is the only one I plan to train until I get back on my feet. I plan to return to the ring soon,” I explained with a smile. 

“I understand. If you change your mind, you know how to find me,” he said while pointing at Megumi. Toji approached Sukuna and gave him a proud smile. “Take good care of her, snakes are great at escaping,” he advised her with a wink before walking away with Megumi and the rest of his team behind him. Sukuna muttered a curse under his breath and let him go.

Two big UFC fighters had recognized me as a good coach and fighter on the same day. It was a big step for my self-esteem and my career. My heart was beating like crazy with excitement, and the smile on my face didn't seem to go away anytime soon. 

“You're smiling like an idiot,” Sukuna scolded me. 

"Can't I be happy that the heavyweight champion just complimented my skills?” I said as we headed for the exit with the others once Toji left our sight. 

"That better be it, and you better not be thinking about going with him,” he challenged me. 

"Are you jealous?” I joked while nudging him. 

"Of course not,” Sukuna answered while rolling his eyes. 

"Don't worry, just behave, and I'll still be yours,” I said in a mocking tone. I was partly joking and partly not. I really wanted him to behave. 

"Nice try,” he spat before picking up the pace to go with Gojo, leaving me behind. “Worth the shot” I thought as I followed them.

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[the-kr8tor]

Heatwave

Feat: The cats 😺😻😾

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Synopsis: You and Hobie try to survive a record breaking heatwave.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, some miscommunication, FLUFF, lovestruck Hobie.

A continuation of this fic

My Masterlist

*I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

You groan loudly, as if it helps make the air cooler, but alas it doesn't work that way. It certainly doesn't help that the air-conditioning in your building completely fizzled out last night, resulting in you and Hobie waking up sweaty and grumpy.

You breathe heavily through the humidity, but the sweltering heat doesn't make it any easier.

The cats don't help too, especially that they're currently blocking the air flow from your single working fan. Crumpet,Teacup and Crowley lay sprawled across a cooling mat, Crowley looks back at you every minute or so, checking to see if you've melted into a puddle.

Teacup, the ever spoiled baby, mewls towards you, as if to say it's time for their hourly wipe of their paws with a cold damp cloth. She's lucky you love her. She's been relishing the attention lately, especially time spent with Hobie, you can't help but get jealous sometimes, this is what Hobie probably feels like with Crowley attached to your hip.

You reluctantly stand up, stretching to your full height, arms wide, you cringe at the sweat clinging to your back, arms, legs and clothes, it's safe to say you're covered in it. You grimace at how tacky your clothes feel on you, your tank top must look like an abstract painting from behind. You lick your lips in a futile attempt to keep them moist, feeling the cracks of skin underneath your tongue.

You grab the designated cloth to soak it in the sink, at the same time you open the fridge to grab another ice pack. Thank goodness you have a stock of them for whenever Hobie comes home bruised. You wish you don't have an abundance of it though, you hate it when Hobie gets hurt.

Teacup meows loudly, telling you to hurry up.

"Alright, alright! 'm coming, you big baby" not noticing your words slurring together. You lift up the cloth, wringing off the excess water.

You stride towards the cats, carefully patting the cloth on their paws, while checking their fur for any tangles. Making sure their water bowls aren't empty.

After rubbing their paws you move to pet Crumpet, moving your fingers on her head, and scratching behind her ear. She purrs under your touch.

You're concerned about Crumpet, she's a lot older than the other two, so you're taking more time to be more attentive towards her.

You rub her thick fur absentmindedly, the air from the fan blowing on your lashes. Your mind wanders back to Hobie, how is he faring in this temperature? Especially in his suit, you practically had to beg him to leave his leather vest at home.

"I always wear it, love, I don't feel complete without it"

"Yeah, I know for the aesthetic," you change your tone, you don't want to fight, "but damn it, just for today please, I don't want you getting heatstroke" you sigh at his stubbornness.

For added effect Crumpet meows at Hobie, backing you up.

Hobie sighs in defeat, "fine," he drops the vest haphazardly over your bed, you think he's mad.

He leans over kissing your cheek, it's too hot to give you a proper kiss, you curse at the temperature, depriving you of affection. "don't forget to drink water, yeah?"

"Mmhm, you too. Take breaks, okay?" you move to hug him, but you recoil your hands back, thinking the added heat might make him more agitated. Hobie thinks you're mad at him.

You wanted to convince him to leave his leather boots and wear his trainers instead, but it might've been all in vain, since he's already opening the window to swing away.

That was hours ago, you hope he's okay, and keeping hydrated. You wish he wasn't mad at you.

Putting the ice pack on your head, you lean against your sofa, watching the cats stay cool.

You zone out, not hearing the familiar thump of heavy boots.

Hobie thinks you're ignoring him, shit you look mad, your face scrunched up into a scowl, sweat dripping on your forehead.

He crosses the small distance, the cats lay sprawled on their mat, the only indication that they noticed him is their heads slightly following his movements, even Crowley refuses to scowl at him. It's hot even for the little hell spawn.

Hobie grabs the cool can inside his little plastic bag, it rustles, but you still haven't looked at him. Fuck he should've kissed you goodbye better.

You feel the cold can on your cheek, waking you up from your daze. You feel sluggish. Craning your neck towards Hobie, you give him a small smile.

"Hey, you're home, early" your eyes slightly glossy.

"Yeah, even villains are too hot to commit crime" he notices your eyes, "when did you last drink water?"

You grab the cold can of soda from his hands, your hands shake trying to open the lid. "Um, I'm about to drink now"

"Shit, sweetheart, that's not enough" he grabs the can from your hands, earning a small "hey" from you. "Let me get you some water, yeah?"

Hobie rushes towards the kitchen, shit how long have you last drank? You must've been too busy taking care of the cats that you forgot about yourself. He doesn't blame you though, those cats are your family. He should've checked in on you on one of his breaks.

Glass in hand, he webs himself towards the living room, so he can get to you faster. You hate it when Hobie leaves his webs inside, but he'll apologize and clean it up later.

Hobie brings the cold glass to your chapped lips, you empty it in a flash, water drips from your chin, he wipes it with his thumb.

"There, you're gonna feel better in a minute" he sighs when color comes back to your lips.

"Can I have the soda now?" You tilt your head prettily.

Hobie opens the can for you before giving it back, "lemme change and I'll get you another glass, yeah?" He rubs the sweat clinging on to your eyebrows, messing up the strands. He chuckles at your unruly brows.

"What's so funny?" You pout against the mouth of the can.

"Nothing" he pecks your forehead, ignoring the sweat. That kiss will have to do for now, he has to make up a lot of kisses for the lack of love he gave you that morning.

Hobie basically tears his suit off him, sweat clings inside, he should shower. He should also try and fix your aircon, but he doesn't want to leave your side, you were on the brink of heat stroke when he arrived, Hobie needs to watch over you till you're better, and the cats need attention too, he still hasn't won over Crowley yet. He's made it his personal mission since he met the rascal.

Crowley settles next to you, the fog clouding your mind slowly dissipating. You sigh with your eyes closed.

"Oi no sleeping" Hobie places another cold glass in your hands in exchange for the soda. He's now wearing an old band shirt that he's kept at your place. Hobie doesn't have shorts, so he just went for his boxers.

He sits next to you, with Crowley in between. Hobie stretched his legs in front of him, his toned legs in full display.

"Here," Hobie hands you a fresh cloth "nevermind c'mere" you happily lean towards him, "you need to take care of yourself too y'know" He dabs the cloth on your neck, drying it.

"I know," you sigh "I was just worried about the cats and you, it must've been hard being in that heat all day"

He hums too engrossed in wiping you dry. You take this as Hobie still being angry at you.

"Are you still mad at me?" You ask in a small voice. wringing your hands anxiously.

"What?" He stops his movements, "I thought you were the one who's angry" he grabs your hands, smoothing the skin with his thumbs, trying to calm your thoughts. "Why would I be mad?"

"Because of the vest thing" you look up at him through your lashes. "I thought, you might've looked at it like I'm trying to change you, I'm not, I like you just the way you are"

Crowley watches the scene with pensive eyes. Crumpet sneezes in her sleep, while teacup curls near Hobie's foot.

"I'm not mad about that, I understand you were looking out for me, and I was too bloody stubborn" he kisses each of your knuckles, his warm breath calms your nerves. You know he isn't good with his words, sometimes opting for showing what he means through his actions.

" 'm not mad either, I shouldn't have pushed you" you lay your head against the couch cushion.

"Nah, I want you to make me, you keep me in line, love. You're right I would've gotten heatstroke with it on" he softly lays your hands on Crowley, he returns to his previous action, wiping at the soft skin on your hip.

"Imagine, I fainted while swinging" he jokes but you glare at him.

"Not funny, Hobart"

"Now, you're mad" He chuckles as he moves the cloth over your nose.

"Augh!" You swat at the piece of wet cloth "that's disgusting!"

"It's your own sweat, lovey" Hobie smiles lopsidedly.

"Next time, wear your trainers instead of boots too?" You ask shyly.

"Alright, for you, yeah"

You nod, finally convincing him "you took care of yourself out there?" You cup his jaw, making circular patterns over his skin with your thumb.

"Yeah, took breaks, hydrated, can't say the same thing for you though"

"I know, I'll do better next time" you sigh, thumping your head on his shoulder.

"Oi" he shakes you with his shoulder "I still owe you that kiss"

You laugh, Crowley perks up at the sound "and I still owe you a hug"

"What are you waiting for? Come up here and get it" a smile creeping on the corner of his lips.

You lean up, head staying on his shoulder, Hobie does all the work, he cranes his neck down as he holds the back of your head, guiding you towards his lips. You sigh into his lips, ignoring the sweat forming on his upper lip.

You cling on to his shirt, slowly moving your arms around him, he kisses deeper.

By some sort of miracle the aircon comes to life, blowing much needed cold air into your flat. You both decide to ignore it, while you climb on his lap, so his neck wouldn't strain. He holds your back, anchoring you.

Crowley meows at the both of you trying to get your attention away from Hobie.

A/N: thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

My requests are open! Check out my rules.

[shiny-kaibernyte]

Ooo ooo!! What about Champion Lance?

In Lance we trust. One Lance Headcannon ramble COMING UP! Lance is surprisingly hard to write for but i think i got something plausible.

No warnings unless mentioning a punch is one?

Lance | General Headcannons

Lance will be straightforward and honest with everyone. You want the truth, ask Lance and he will spell it out to you in the most brutally honest way. 

He is sharp minded and incredibly strong-willed. This man can bounce back from anything thrown at him, and can silence anyone with a single comment if he wants. He has made challengers feel as if they are an ant compared to him, if they’re getting too cocky with him that is.

If he finds someone mistreating their Pokemon, he reacts in one of two ways. Depending on what's happening. If the trainer is new and is simply overworking their Pokemon without actually realising: Lance will berate them for this and then teach them carefully on how to actually care for they’re Pokemon.

Lance is a surprisingly good teacher.

However, if what they're doing is physical and genuinely meaningful in how they are hammering their pokemon, he will not back away from using violence. He Hyper beamed a petty thief! Lance will throw a punch in himself if need be.

A LOG when sleeping. And I don't mean he's a sound sleeper, a lot can wake him up. I mean literally a log, stiff as a board. A statue if you will. 

Clair once thought he was unconscious, he was so still, resulting in her pouring ice cold water on him, followed by Lance jumping up so far you honestly thought he could cling to the ceiling. One of the few times he let his guard down and now he's cold and needs new clothes.

Yes, Clair got it all on camera. And yes all of the Elite and gym leaders have the video saved.

Lance is an incredibly serious person, and will not tolerate any form of disrespect from anyone. Although sometimes he can be a bit too serious. Laughter is so rare from this guy that even a simple chuckle gets people staring at him.

It takes him an hour to get his hair like that. Lance’s naturally hair is spiky don’t get me wrong but to get those perfect spikes takes time darlings.

Private person. Period

Lance cares way too much about other people and they’re pokemon than he reasonably should. I repeat he has Hyper beamed a thief for stealing a random woman's pokeball.  This tends to get him in situations he can’t get himself out of. Whilst he doesn’t like asking for help, he will if he knows it's the only option left.

Before he became champion, he would constantly be going around the other Elite members and testing they’re strength making sure they are alway at their best. When he became champion he did this a lot less, instead focusing on his own pokemon and the might of the gym leaders. 

He can’t swim all that well. Lance spends so much time in the air that swimming is almost foreign to him. Although he can swim, it's not too graceful and you would mistake his wild flailing for drowning.

For this reason, he definitely has a Pokemon that knows Surf he doesn’t use on his main team. 

Man has a soft spot for food. Wanna get on his good side? Give him anything to do with Spicy food and he is all ears. The other elite members used to carry Spicy curry pots on them whenever they needed Lance to do something he would normally say no to.

Quite the artist and also has decent music talent. He once tried Pottery, he made a somewhat functional bowl on his first attempt. Charcoal is his specialty, he has a hidden sketchbook full of pokemon he has seen over his travels.

Hates travelling overseas for tournaments and HAS turned them down before. It has to be a massive oversea event for him to willingly go instead of Red or Falkner dragging him there.

Lance has a soft spot for kids. He is much more protective over them than the adults watching them. Always helping any kid without a second thought, the adult in his mind comes second. 

He throws a vicious right hook. Lance has knocked a team rocket grunt out and once put a hole in a wall. It’s no Raihan punch, that man bent a Cement wall. But he will put you on your ass. 

This man has a secret stash of hair dye in his house. If his hair starts greying he will be READY! And yes that is not his natural hair colour.

Does NOT like his shoulders touched. I think it's the cloak, but if someone touches him on the shoulder, he will death glare at them. Hands, arms, back all fine. Shoulders, no. Same thing with his legs. Falkner once tapped him on the leg when he was napping and it resulted in Falkner getting a kick to the face. He was fine but now he warns people not to touch Lance when he sleeps.

Speaking of Falkner, these two definitely roomed together for a while. Falkner is the only person Lance trusts enough to handle his pokemon. If for Any reason Lance has to part with Dragonite, Falkner is who he turns to. Even the pokemon centre can’t handle his precious pokemon. Arceus forbade him to let Clair handle them.

He loves and respects Clair so much don’t get him wrong. But when they were younger, Clair was quite the trouble maker and accidentally hurt Lance’s Dratini. He never fully trusted her again with his pokemon. No ill will between them though, They have dinner together at least once a week. 

Though in Clair's defence, Lance did provoke her first. He got that spit fire personality somewhere.

Won’t eat any kind of fish or Tail food. Sushi is his enemy. Not team rocket, not Team Galactic, not even team Magma. Nope. Sushi. 

Remember the curry thing from earlier? If that doesn’t work to persuade him somehow, just tie some sushi to a stick and follow him around, he’ll give in eventually. Don’t let his Dragonite eat it though because it will try and it is funny to watch.

[live-laugh-lenney]

Hi just got into reading your writing, I adore it ❤️❤️

Was just wondering if you could write about George while during labour and after cuddling with a cute baby. I feel like he would be so cute and helpful 😂😂

thank you for coming by my blog and checking out my stuff, that means a whole lot to me! if you wanna check out the previous girl-dad!george blurb then you can read it here. xx

nearing the last few weeks of her pregnancy, all yn wants to do is stay at home.

as much as george tries to coax her out for some fresh air, just for a walk around the park down the road or sitting in the background of on one of chris' football shoots so she could get some social activity in as well as some time outside, she denies every invite that comes her way. she just doesn't feel up to it.

and george understands.

"i'm fat, i waddle instead of walk, i look gross and i haven't showered for about four days because i'm tired lugging this around," she points to the bump that protrudes from over the waistband of her tracksuit trousers and stretching the material of one of george's old t-shirts, "i just don't want to go anywhere, george."

"you're not fat," he tuts and runs the stretch of his palm across the curvature of her front, feeling the active kicks from his little girl as she moves around and gets comfortable from the previous jostling motions of yn waddling her way towards him, "you are pregnant. not fat."

"i've gained so many pounds," yn huffs her fringe from her face and he rolls his eyes, "don't roll your eyes with attitude, clarkey."

"not done with attitude," he retorts and presses a kiss to her lips, "you're just being silly, okay? the midwife told you in your last visit to her that you'd probably gain a little weight from your body changing."

she frowns and he cups her face in his hands.

"besides, all that added weight is just proof out little girl is growing healthily."

she drops her forehead to his chest, a slight stretch from her neck because of the bump restricting her from getting any closer, and she groans lowly.

"will you be okay for a few hours? i can get someone to come and sit with you for an hour or so?"

"i'll be fine," yn grumbles, lifting her head up to look at him and he has a soft and gentle look in his eyes, one that seemed to be debating on whether he should leave for chris' video shoot or stay and explain that he needed to be home with her, "don't even think about cancelling, george. i'll be fine. if anything goes wrong, i'm sure arthur can come down from upstairs."

"hill or television?"

"oh, definitely hill. i think mister frederick would pass out if he had to do anything remotely related to me being in labour."

george snorts and retrieves his hands from her, passing her by as he walks towards the door to her flat and grabs his boots for the 3g pitch chris had booked, slipping his feet into his trainers, before grabbing his hoodie from the back of her door.

"you call me if anything happens."

"george, we have three weeks."

"baby's can come early," he warns her and she rolls her eyes, "less with the attitude, missy."

"go on, go. you'll be late otherwise," yn smiles softly, "tell chris i say hi and that the baby told me that she can't wait to puke on him when she's finally here."

and, of course, everything is fine and dandy in the first few hours without george.

she made herself a sandwich then followed it with a bowl of cereal because she was craving something a little chocolatey, watching all of the youtube videos that she needed to catch up and scrolling her social media, replying to sweet messages on her twitter and doing a small q and a on her instagram for people to involve themselves in.

until she felt an ache roll across her belly.

an ache that was nothing like the braxton hicks she'd experienced just a short week ago when she'd panicked about going into labour. the midwife explaining it was just her body getting ready for when it was time to pop their little girl out, that it was nothing to worry about and that she wasn't in active labour and just needed to rest and enjoy the last few weeks as a family of two.

an ache that did worry her because it was harsh. enough to make her hunch over. enough to make her eyes water. enough to have her heart racing in her chest.

"you just had to do it without daddy here, huh? did you not hear our conversation earlier?"

she didn't want to interrupt george and she told herself that she had enough willpower to cope for the first hour, by herself, and she didn't want to call chris when he was in the middle of his shoot to tell him she needed her boyfriend when her labour was only at the first stage.

she reaches for her phone and tries to call arthur hill, except it goes to his voicemail twice. to which she left a rather agitated message in relation to how she was going to make him do all the nappy changes and have him on babysitting duty when her little one had arrived.

"yn?"

"arthur," she says, "hello."

"hi?"

"don't be so surprised i'm calling you, idiot. we're friends," she rolls her eyes to herself and her words come out as a low grumble and he huffs out a gentle laugh, "i just need your help."

"i'm in the middle of editing a new reacts video, can it wait till-"

"i think i'm in labour and i just need someone to come and sit with me for a little while. just in case," she grumbles out, looking at the clock as she kept a close eye on the minutes ticking by, "just until george comes home from his shoot with chris in a couple of hours."

"oh, shit."

"please don't panic," she begs him softly, hearing the instant shock and worry in his voice, "i'm fine. nothing is really progressing and i've only had two contractions in the last fifteen or so minutes. but-"

"no, no. it's fine. give me five minutes and i'll be down, okay? do you need me to bring you anything? does george have anything that you'll need?"

yn shakes her head, "no, no. just, yourself. please. george has a spare key in your flat, by the front door, you can use that."

"okay, i'll be there soon. just sit tight."

and when george gets home a short hour and a half after her first contraction, he's greeted with the sight of yn swaying her hips on her yoga ball in front of arthur who was sat on the sofa, her hands in his as she squeezed them gently, lips pursed as she took deep breaths in and out.

and, at first, he's confused.

until it really dawns on him and he's drops his stuff instantly. feet on their way to her before he could toe his trainers off and usually, yn would complain about the smell of his sweaty clothes after his arrival home after anything activity-related except today, she had bigger things to worry about.

"jesus christ, you didn't think to call me?"

"i didn't want to interrupt your shoot. plus, it's not too bad," yn smiles softly, her cheeks red and her forehead shiny with a thin layer of sweat building up on her skin, "arthur's been a great help. he should take up midwifery."

"no," arthur blurts out suddenly and she giggles lightly, "i don't have the stomach for it."

"okay, maybe a doula then," yn suggests, "your voice is very calming and soothing to listen to. i made him recite animal facts to distract him and myself."

she looks at george and his eyes are full of concern.

"george, i'm okay."

"she's a trooper," arthur lets george take her hands, replacing his spot in front of yn and he stands to his feet, wiping his hands on his t-shirt as they were warm and a little sticky, "do you need me or shall i leave you both to it?"

"i think we've got it," george look at him and smiles, "thanks, mate. i'll keep you updated on everything. hopefully we have a baby next time we see you."

arthur grins and bends over and presses a soft kiss to yn's forehead, squeezing her shoulder before he bids his farewell to the two of them, closing the front door behind him as he exits the flat. leaving yn and george in their own bubble, allowing them the privacy to endure the next step of their parenting journey together, the quiet feel to the room almost comforting for her as his thumb rubs over her knuckles reassuringly.

he calls the hospital, speaks to her midwife, lets yn inform of her of everything and they're told to come in because yn was definitely about to have a baby. no fake contractions this time around.

it was the real thing.

and she was terrified.

"i don't wanna go," she whispers tearfully and her feet come to halt at the front door, dropping his hand as he takes one step more and he turns to look at her, "george, i don't want to go."

"no, no. hey," he hoists the strap of the baby bag over his shoulder, her head dropping down to her chest as she hid the tears that were beginning to well and spill over her eyelids, "i know you're scared. hell, i'm scared, too. so scared. but we've got this, yeah? you've got this."

she shakes her head.

"yes, you have. you're the strongest woman i know, okay? you've been amazing through the last nine months, you've battled all you can battle, now it's time for the final step," he grins widely and she looks up at him, his palms cupping her face, "we're about to have a baby, yeah? the last nine months of growing our little bub is coming to an end."

"i can't do it," she whimpers and her bottom lip wobbles, "george, i can't."

and she bursts into tears. her cries echoing around the hallway, down the corridor of the floor of her flat, and his heart breaks at all of the emotions coming from within her. her cheeks wet. her eyes red. and he scoops her into a hug, hiding her face in his shoulder, cupping the back of her head with his hand.

"i'm with you every step of the way," he whispers, "right there, next to you, holding your hand. i'm not going anywhere."

she gulps back a thick sob, her tears dampening the shirt on his body and her knees are shaking, gently swaying as she felt a contraction start its painful ache across her stomach muscles, a heavy groan in the air that he could feel the pain radiate from.

when they get to the hospital and once she's given a room, with a pool in the corner in case she wanted it and a birthing ball beside her beside in case she found comfort on that, changing into a gown so she was a little more comfortable. the smell making her feel a little more at ease knowing she was somewhere where she could birth her baby safely. the gentle pastel colours of the walls around her making her feel less stressed and panicky and a lot more mellow and calmer.

and george stuck to his word.

he never left her side. he never tore his attention from her. he never left the room. he stayed planted to the seat beside the bed. only getting up to use the en-suite loo that came with the room and when she was after a nurse to ask a question about something she was a little scared and nervous about.

"think we should tell the guys?"

"i think arthur would have mentioned something," yn smiles, "i'm very surprised they're not in the waiting room."

"do you want them here?"

yn shakes her head, "as much as i'd love to see them, i just want you here."

he smiles and kisses her forehead.

"you're doing so well, okay? i wish i could do more for you than just hold your hand or rub your back," he frowns, "i just hate seeing you in so much pain."

"it's all worth it though, right? we get a baby at the end of this," she's softly spoken, having only just had an epidural to ease the pain she was feeling and to help her cope with the aches of her contractions, "me and you, can you believe that? not once did i ever picture us in this position when i saw you on tiktok all those years ago."

he snorts out a laugh and blushes softly.

"i'm so glad i commented on that one video you stitched onto mine," he reminds her, "don't think i'd be as happy with life than as i am now. never did i think i'd be a dad, though."

"you're going to be such a good dad," she says, "such a dilf."

yeah... so... i definitely love this girl-dad!george au that had risen up on this blog. i have a few messages in response to it so i'm going to work on them. i just love the idea of all of the boys being girl-dad's. :'))) please tell me i am not alone! anyway! thank you for requesting this. my inbox is always open for george and arthurtv chats on here. xx

[magicshopaholic]

Drowning pt. 2 (Namjoon x OC)

Summary: You and Namjoon find out you still have some kinks to iron out.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Genre: Angst, fluff

Word count: 3.9 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: sexual innuendos? if that - idk

A/N: I have, to this day, not been able to get over purple-haired Namjoon, so this fic is dedicated to whichever stylist decided to bring this into our lives. Takes place the morning after Drowning.

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @margopinkerton, @faearchives, @whoisbts, @purpleseoul7, @kflixnet (if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk)

Listen to: “full time lover” by prateek kuhad

namjoon masterlist | main masterlist

It’s a sunny day in the London heat, but according to Dilara, it will rain this evening.

Kaya stares at the clouds in the distance, wondering if they are rainclouds and if they are even near enough the city to provide a respite from this heat. She will be back in Amsterdam by then, though, where the weather is more bearable.

She can hear voices from close by, of Dilara and Taehyung, of her friends, of Namjoon and Chris speaking their language in similarly deep voices. It’s somewhat comforting, but Kaya can’t seem to find it in herself to join them. In fact, she hasn’t all day, and she can’t quite figure out why. 

Taking a deep breath, she tries to retrace her steps from this morning, all the way from when she had woken up in Dilara’s guest room, cold and alone.

Her heart had jerked to such a stop that it physically hurt. The first sound out of her mouth had been something between a dry sob and a gasp. She’d sat up in an instant, realising a moment later that the cold was because the air conditioner had clearly been turned up - or that it felt that way because the warm body next to her that always ran a little too hot in the summers was no longer there.

She’d had to blink and rub her eyes before the grogginess disappeared and she was able to focus on the Rolex lying on the bedside table, followed by the Converse shoes by the closets that were definitely too big to be hers. She’d felt mildly ridiculous but given her heart was still beating rapidly and unevenly, she’d gotten off the bed and slipped on her shorts, now able to hear faint voices from outside as well.

Namjoon had been in the kitchen with Chris and Dilara, scarfing down a bowl of cereal while the three of them chatted. His face had broken out into a dimpled smile at the sight of her, easy and familiar, and he’d sort of held out one hand. For some reason, including the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach that hadn’t yet subsided, Kaya pretended as though she hadn’t seen it.

It didn’t end there. Dilara and her friends had a plan to go ice-skating and somehow, Kaya found herself and Namjoon being roped into it. To his credit, Namjoon seemed equally enthused at the prospect - but she had a feeling he could be convinced into anything at the moment. His happiness and relaxed demeanor was transparent, but it didn’t do a lot to help her discomfort disappear.

The cold interior was a welcome respite from the heat and their group of six meant that Kaya was able to distance herself from Namjoon without making it obvious. She wished she wasn’t, but it simply felt too overwhelming to be around him, as though it was opening the door to a room stuffed with feelings she had to begin making sense of.

Dilara and her friend Lexie, her trainer and a professional dancer, had taken off on the ice together, gliding like swans and seeming strangely coordinated, like they knew each other’s movements. Chris and Taehyung were far less graceful about it; the latter was dreadful, half-stomping and yelling in fear, and had to be coaxed by his girlfriend who was laughing but stayed patient, holding his hands and guiding him, while Chris outright refused to participate.

It left Kaya and Namjoon to be the average, normal skaters and when he had come over and asked if she wanted to skate together, holding out his hand, she’d found it impossible to be able to refuse.

The uncertainty didn’t go anywhere, though, not while skating, not after, when they grabbed fish and chips from a nearby vendor, and not now when they hung around by the Thames on a rare day off, eating and sipping on cold drinks.

The breeze by the river is slightly cooler; sitting on a ledge overlooking the water, Kaya tries to clear her mind.

She smells him before she hears him, the familiar cologne making her heart involuntarily skip a beat. “Hey. Is this seat taken?”

Kaya opens her eyes but doesn’t look at him; turning in his general direction, she forces a small smile and shakes her head, looking back at the water as he sits beside her.

“Are you okay?” he asks. When she simply nods, he speaks again, and his tone is slightly different. “Something on your mind?”

Too much. Now that he’s sitting beside her, she’s finding it harder than ever to look at him, afraid he’ll see everything on her face.

���Is everything -“

“Can you -“ She interrupts him and stops abruptly. “Can you… not get up in the morning and just leave like that? Maybe wake me up or - or drop a text or something?”

By his silence, she can tell that isn’t what he was expecting. “Yeah,” he says after a moment. “Sure. Sorry.”

She nods, slightly regretting her brusque tone. Her eyes look around without really seeing anything, vaguely registering people walking around on a Tuesday afternoon. For once, Namjoon doesn’t seem about them being together in public. She wonders if that’s on purpose.

“Is there anything else?” he asks gently. “Kaya… did I do something wrong? Last night?”

Kaya shakes her head. Nothing had really happened last night for anything to go wrong. They had clambered into bed, fully-clothed minus denims - she guessed he didn’t want to presume anything and was waiting for her cue. 

Somewhere in the darkness, the proximity and familiar touch and pure longing had led to her tilting her head up and finding his lips, and they’d engaged in a passionate snog session that could’ve gone all the way, had it not been for her stopping it abruptly. 

“Sorry,” she’d murmured, rolling off him and feeling his hand slide off her thigh. “I just don’t think tonight is… you know, the right…”

Namjoon had saved her from stuttering and nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “No problem,” he’d replied softly, and waited for her to settle back down before doing so himself, eventually wrapping his arms loosely around her body - comforting but not suffocating. She’d felt his semi against the small of her back and a primal part of her wanted to throw caution to the wind, but she’d restrained herself.

Now, sitting right next to him, it occurs to her how foreign the distance is between them, even if it’s barely a foot.

“Are you sure you want this?” she blurts out. 

“This, meaning… you? Like, a relationship?” He hardly waits for her to nod. “Yes. Very much. Why do you ask?”

“Because it’s just occurring to me that the only reason we’re here is because Seokjin tricked me into going to your hotel yesterday,” she says, the words suddenly flowing. “Without that… would all this have actually happened?” she asks, finally looking at him. Would you still be here?

Namjoon frowns. “I mean… honestly? Maybe not,” he admits. “But you can say that about a hundred different things. We’re here right now because everything up till this moment fell into place a certain way.”

“But would you be here?” she asks finally. “Or do you think you’d even want to, a week or a month from now? Because… Namjoon, I can’t help but feel like I - like I ambushed you,” she confesses. “I just showed up and I said a bunch of things and I caught you off guard… emotions were running very high. But once everything calms down, in a few days or a few weeks… will this still be something you want?”

His frown deepens and Kaya can tell he’s struggling not to let his incredulity show. “Is it something I want? Kaya… I can assure you, that is not something that has ever been in question.”

“Then why didn’t you come to me sooner? Why did it take me coming there and a fight to happen and - and for you to find out about the note for us to be here?”

“Because -“ He sighs. “Look, I can’t pretend I know what might have happened if you hadn’t come over yesterday. I think I was questioning my decision enough that I would’ve eventually called you, probably to apologise or definitely at least to talk. But… no, it probably wouldn’t have been last night,” he admits. “But that’s how these things work sometimes. Would we be here if you weren’t in London for work?”

Kaya turns away as he tilts his head, his logic not escaping her.

“You did not ambush me,” he clarifies firmly. “You told me a bunch of things I needed to hear and as hard as some of those things were… you were right to say them to me.”

That’s not what I’m talking about. Not exactly. But she doesn’t know how else to put it. Next to her, Namjoon takes a deep breath.

“You know, when I was on the way to the airport after you told me about the break-in,” he begins, a little hesitantly, “before I decided to write to management about the press release, I was… I was going to tell them I was terminating my contract. I didn’t,” he adds quickly, when she snaps around to look at him in shock, “but that was the initial plan.”

“Jesus, Namjoon,” she breathes, shaking her head. “When did you get such a flair for the dramatic?”

“I wasn’t trying to be dramatic,” he disagrees. “And it’s not like I would’ve stopped being a member of BTS that second. There would’ve been a discussion and meetings about it - and I was ready to have those. But I didn’t go through with it because as I was typing out the email…” He sighs. “I got a message from Jungkook asking if I knew where his socks were. And then one from Jimin asking me not to tell him. And I had no idea what they were talking about… but I knew I couldn’t do that to them.”

“Tell me about it. Please do not end your career for me,” she states, still reeling from this new information. “Christ. Those were really your only two options?”

“The point is, is that I didn’t break up with you on a whim,” he says patiently. “Obviously, I shouldn’t have done it at all, but… Kaya, it really, genuinely felt like my last resort then. So if you’re asking me if I still want to be with you? Honey, I never stopped. Okay?”

Kaya feels chest loosen slightly - but only slightly. The casual term of affection doesn’t escape her notice either; he’d only started calling her that when she’d started calling him that. Until then, it had been a lot of jagiya and sweetheart and baby - but this extremely American endearment had been new to his vocabulary then. 

When she’d mentioned to him once, when they were thousands of miles apart, that it always made her think of how her immigrant parents called each other honey, deliberately using an American term to make each other laugh, he’d suddenly started using it much more often.

“Namjoon, I…” She exhales deeply, wishing the answer would come to her - wishing the question would come to her, perfectly structured so she could get her point across but still avoid hurting him. “I get that you think that,” she says slowly, noting how his shoulders fall but powering through, “and I believe that you think that. But it’s been six months.”

“That’s really not a lot.” 

“I’m not saying your feelings have disappeared. I’m saying…” She tries but gives up almost immediately. “I’m saying that things can change in six months. And I don’t want us making such a huge decision - again - based solely on what happened last night. We’ve missed each other and we said a lot of things, but I really think we need to take a beat and think about it. Because… I can’t go through a break-up again. I just can’t. So, if you’re not one hundred percent sure… well, then this is your out.”

There’s a few seconds of silence where the sound of the river seems louder. Then, Namjoon speaks.

“I don’t need an out. I don’t want one and I don’t think it’s -”

Just then, both of them are called and they turn to see everyone starting to pile into Dilara’s Aston Martin DBX. 

“Look, just - just think about it, okay?” Kaya says, standing up and dusting herself off. When Namjoon doesn’t answer, his tongue in his cheek, she hesitantly offers her hand. Despite his visible discomfort, he takes it and even though he doesn’t apply any pressure, he keeps holding her hand until they’re at the car.

—

Namjoon follows Kaya into the guest room, slowing down a few feet behind her, and watches her gather her belongings from around the room.

“Good thing I didn’t unpack a lot,” she says lightly. “The cab should be here any minute. Thank God the college is paying for it or I’d be taking the train. Do you think you’ll still come?” she asks after a moment, sounding doubtful.

“Yeah. I’ll be there tomorrow morning. Need to book the hotel and everything,” he explains, suddenly remembering he needs to inform the team and taking out his phone.

“Joon?” 

“Yeah?”

She sighs. “Are you mad?”

“What? No,” he says honestly, lowering his phone. “Of course not. I’m just trying to understand…” He takes off the beanie he’s been wearing all day and runs a hand through his hair, letting breathe in the AC. “I know you may need time. And I’m fine with that, really. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere.”

Kaya purses her lips, a small smile flickering on her face. “But?”

“No but,” he says immediately. “Yet,” he begins after a moment, “I really want to understand why you think my feelings might have changed. It’s not like I moved on with my life after we broke up. I didn’t even try,” he admits. “Why is that the doubt in your mind?”

She shrugs slowly. “I don’t know. I know that you… love me, but I just need… I don’t know, some kind of reassurance. Something to show me that it’s more than the relief of getting back together.”

Namjoon frowns, something just occurring to him. “Is this the only thing that’s holding you back?” he asks curiously. “From…”

“From getting back together?” She pauses, evidently thinking. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Really? You’re not mad at me anymore?”

She takes a deep breath. “No. I was, yesterday. Very. But it’s getting too hard to stay mad at you,” she admits. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”

Something blooms in Namjoon’s chest at that, hopeful and happy, but he reins it in. 

“I love you,” he says.

He’s not imagining it; an automatic smile threatens to creep up on her face but she suppresses it. “I love you, too. But I don’t want to move forward with this - this thing in my brain, constantly questioning me. I’m sorry, I know I’m probably not making any sense,” she mutters, shaking her head and moving around the bed with her packed suitcase.

“No, come on, don’t be sorry,” he says immediately, coming to stand before her. “I really want to understand, baby - okay, let me see if I’m getting this -“ He touches her shoulders to stop her in place and clasps his hands together.

Kaya sighs but doesn’t protest, folding her arms across her chest and tilting her head, clearly humouring him.

“You want to get back together - which, by the way, is music to my ears -“ he adds, his heart skipping a beat when she purses her lips in amusement, “and it’s not that you’re angry… you just aren’t sure if I’m serious about this?”

Her shoulders fall and she looks away, now seeming visibly frustrated at her inability to word it.

“I think you believe you are,” she says slowly. “But I think you think you’re supposed to. I don’t think you’ve thought this through beyond just getting back together. About what happens after getting back together.”

Something settles in Namjoon’s stomach; it’s like the feeling of hearing a bunch of demos and arrangements and knowing that a particular combination of them is the correct sound - but the challenge is to recreate in reality what is in his head.

“Okay.” He swallows, nodding. “Firstly, I hope you know that as much as I want this, I in no way want to pressure you. You can take all the time you need - I just don’t want this to be something that’s a factor in it.”

She shrugs helplessly. “How does that happen? I can’t tell my brain to stop thinking about it. There has to be a rationale behind it.”

“So… you want me to prove that I’m in this for the long haul?”

“I mean, it’s not a test. But… yeah, an indication wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

They stare at each other, both their points having been made, with the looming feeling of an impasse. Namjoon fiddles absently with the rings on his fingers, something he realises only now that he should have returned to the stylists yesterday.

“Alright.” He pokes his tongue in his cheek and takes a deep breath. “I think I get it. I just want you to know that… this is not the way I was planning to do this. Or even imagining it - like, Dilara’s guest room was nowhere in the picture. But I love you,” he repeats, “and if we do get back together, it’s my job to make sure that this isn’t something you ever doubt again, so…” He takes a step backwards and, with his heart suddenly starting to race almost as though it’s trying to catch up with his brain, he goes to kneel.

It takes almost his knee to touch the ground before Kaya seemingly catches on, her frown deepening one second and her eyes widening the next. An incoherent gasp escapes her mouth for which Namjoon is glad, for he doesn’t think he can get through this if he’s interrupted.

“Kaya Madaan, love of my life,” he says, slipping a silver ring off his middle finger, “I can try and convince you of this every single day for the rest of our lives - and I will - if you make me the happiest man on -“

“Oi, Kaya, your taxi is here - whoa, what’s wrong - oh, my God! Oh, my God!”

Dilara gasps in the doorway, while Kaya is still frozen in shock before him. Namjoon feels like he’s been hit in the chest with the sudden interruption and he swallows, staring wordlessly as the door opens wider and Taehyung appears next to his girlfriend.

“What happened? What’s - oh.” Taehyung’s eyebrows disappear into his bangs and he swears in part-shock and part-awe - and in Korean, Namjoon notes somewhere in his mind.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” Dilara exclaims, wincing in guilt and looking at Kaya.

“Damn,” muses Taehyung, back to English, “I always thought I was going to go first.”

“What?” Dilara smacks his shoulder in horror, making him gasp and wince as he clutches his arm.

Namjoon’s brain finally snaps out of its shocked silence and he gets to his feet. “Alright, get out,” he snaps, walking over and slamming the door, hesitating for a moment before turning around to face Kaya.

“That was definitely not part of the plan,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. “Okay, where, uh, where were we? Oh, right -“ He moves to go back to his original spot, but Kaya stops him.

“Namjoon.” Her voice is still a little shaky but her grip on his shoulders is firm. “You don’t have to do that. You don’t - you shouldn’t. Not now.”

From her expression, he knows she isn’t referring to the location. He reaches up to brush his thumb against her cheek. “I really do want you to know that I - Kaya, I’m not afraid to do this. Granted, it should be more romantic, more planned - and definitely far, far away from those two. But I mean it just as much right now.”

Kaya bites her lip and even though he knows all the things wrong with this situation, she shakes her head slowly. His heart sinks unexpectedly but he hopes it doesn’t show on his face.

“Not like this,” she says softly. “We’re not there yet - on multiple fronts. But, someday… maybe.”

His chest loosens slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I still don’t think we should get back together this minute,” she says after a moment, waiting for Namjoon to nod. “But… come to Amsterdam tomorrow. Help me move in… maybe christen my new apartment?”

He half-chuckles. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to -“

“I know. And… you did.” She gives him a small smile when he meets her eyes. “This was not what I had in mind when you said prove,” she says, giving him a look, “but I think it did the job. But… God, Joon, what would you have done if I’d said yes?” 

He takes a deep breath and shrugs. “Well, for starters, I would get you an actual ring.” He slips the ring back onto his finger, the metal feeling cold in the AC. “And told Big Hit that as my legal spouse, they fly you back and forth to wherever I am.” He pauses. “You know, I think I’m going to do that anyway.”

Kaya raises her eyebrows. “You can do that?”

“Yeah. I think so. If you’re my significant other on paper - and, yeah, there will be a paper,” he adds, slightly apologetically. “But they can afford it.”

“Well, you are a shareholder,” she points out. “But you know what? If you manage to swing that, I’ll take it.”

He squints. “You have never let me pay for a ticket in three years. I had to convert it into a birthday gift for the Rome trip.”

“Take the win, honey,” she murmurs, reaching up and kissing him. Namjoon almost sighs when he feels his chest relax and his stomach unclench with worry. Pulling her closer by the waist, he kisses her back, every cell in his body cherishing the moment.

“You have no idea how much I love you,” he mumbles into her shoulder when they pull away into a hug. 

“I may have an idea,” she replies, equally softly, tightening her arms around his shoulders. 

There’s a knock on the door. “Er… I don’t mean to interrupt,” comes Dilara’s voice, sounding extremely hesitant, “but the security guard just called me to say your taxi is still waiting.”

“Shit, I’m going to miss my flight,” mutters Kaya, immediately stepping away and fumbling for her suitcase and bag. Namjoon tries not to be disappointed as he takes her suitcase from her and wheels it to the front door, waiting while she pulls on her shoes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promises when she stands up again. “Call me when you land?”

“I will.” She reaches up to give him another quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before heading out, tucking her long hair behind her ear and calling the lift. Namjoon watches until the lift arrives and she steps in, blowing him a kiss as the doors close.

Missing her already, he trudges inside and shuts the front door behind him to see Taehyung and Dilara surreptitiously staring from where they are on the sofa.

“I’m going to kill you two.”

—

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[sotogalmo]

9 (1 day ago)— 4:22

SOULs of The Performers (season39 & two from season40)

(of a popular circus called “Space Mine”, or in short 'Spmn').

Solei- a very popular, well known and well liked performer. Solei is an androgynous being- appearing somewhat feminine yet having a soft and masculine voice. They seem to only be a 'trainer' rather than an actual performer. They have the Caressing Soul. (something is up with them)

Aurien- well known, and mainly popular around those who are also fans of Solei; they don't seem to make a difference between Solei and Aurien. She has the Dominating Soul. Or, maybe, just maybe, a Radiating Soul. (she knows something is going on with Solei)

Vii- with how calm, and quite similar to Castor in some ways, Vii seems to have a Shadowed Soul. But who knows, Vii might have an Enlightenment Soul. / Saachi- with how similar she is to Flor and due to their trio name being "Christmas girls" maybe she has the same Endless Soul as Flor does. But she seems more.. softer. Maybe she doesn't have the Endless Soul. But who knows for sure / Ji Woo- Someone who's carefree and 'homely' yet, Ji Woo has the Solitary Soul. He seems to be sweep under the rug, in some cases. / Ryu- he's similar to Ragnvaldr, in how he acts (I would think). Giving him the Tormented Soul. Or maybe he has the same soul trait as Aegaeon does; a Tainted Soul.

Azure- well known but not really well respected. Azure is quite numb and chillingly cold, and is a performer. A Blank Soul. But it's also been said that he possibly might've had an Enlightenment Soul, only turning Blank after reaching a dead end. (He's quite similar to Daan in that way).

Jae- He's an ordinary young man. Nothing too appealing, but appealing enough for him to be in a circus with others around. But he and Flor share the same soul trait. An Endless Soul. / Evon- Is one of those who are more appealing then Jae is. Appearance wise, with the white strand of hair, which makes her stand out. But for her soul, it's the Enlightenment Soul.

Rose- With their unique and one-of-a-kind appearance and especially their talent, they might as well have their own soul type named after themselves! But, not now. They have the Endless Soul.

Khoi- Enlightenment Soul. His fast-learing ability has him learning a lot in some short amounts of time, which has him wanting more. / Sai- His quiet behavior yet the way his attaches himself to others seem to point that he has a Solitary Soul. / Vera- lightly similar to Sai, but I suppose that's only based on their looks and how quiet they are. Their difference is of course their soul, to which Vera has the Endless Soul (I like to think that she'll be similar to Karin from Termina). / Ellie- and her somewhat princess-like air to herself, she might seem like she would have a Dominating Soul. But far from that, she actually has a Latent Soul.

Toon- Tainted Soul, with how her and Lang have some fights (hindsight, quite petty but it's funny) and it somewhat led to her having a bowl cut. / Monica- She, Solei and Dian have the same views (I would think), so their soul trait is the same. Caressing Soul. / Isla- She seems to be quite similar to Aurien in some ways but also to Ava. But she doesn't seem like one for power, so it leaves her with a Radiating Soul.

Lang- Enlightenment Soul. She's known for picking things apart, and of her questions that she asks Moran.

Minori- Minori, she's confusing to say the least. The month and day she was born has people with more courage and such, but she's quiet and skittish. Not much of a talker or a booster, but she's somewhat similar-ish to Tanaka (from Termina), giving her the Latent Soul.

Stasya- Solitary Soul. Someone who's found a home inside of this circus (quite the irony), or maybe perhaps Stasya has the Suffocated Soul?

Tallis- Solitary Soul, similar to both Stasya and Vermillion. / Castor- The Shadowed Soul. But it has been debated that he may have a Tormented Soul as well, but that's been said by those who seem to know of Castor's past. / Himei- Caressing Soul! She and Noora get along well due to their shared soul trait. / Kyo- Just like Aegaeon and Ryu, having him with the Tormented Soul.

Tov- Enlightenment Soul. She and Moran are quite similar in how they are due to their soul.

Noora- Her friendliness and childishness has her with the ones who have the Caressing Soul. / Lark- Enlightenment Soul, with how he seems to appear as a librarian in a place full of singers.

Onyx- Cold like Azure is, but not all that similar since Onyx has 'life' in himself. He has the Enlightenment Soul due to how similar he and Azure are. / Dian- He's quite similar to both Monica and Solei, in of their shared traits and views (in some way), so he also possesses the Caressing Soul.

Cirrus- Quite a mystery they are. Resembling the cloudy sky, and their eyes being closed almost always. Giving this air of being choked out of breath. Similar to Azure, yet also similar to others who are more lively. Suffocated Soul, seems to explain them quite well.

Aegaeon- Her fightin' energy and quite mean look has her being compared to Marcoh. Having her with the Tainted Soul. But she means well, just like Marcoh.

Moran- Enlightenment Soul, again. She and Lang have talks about philosophy or anything of their interest that is besides their acts in the circus.

Flor- well known for her out going and generally jester- like persona and personality. It's been stated that she has once wanted to do something else rather than performing but she likes her job now. She has the Endless Soul.

Akane- Similar to others who have a Solitary Soul, to which she also has.

Vermillion- A Solitary Soul. I don't think I should explain it too much, since without his girlfriend- and the way he's not that well known in the circus. It's self-explanatory, on why he's alone.

Daiki- A Dominating Soul? She'll be quite similar to D'arce and how she is devoted to Le'gard yet has a dominating soul (but it's Tina for Daiki, and not Le'gard).

Ava- a beauty with nothing much underneath but she seems to be quite similar to others yet for Flor Ava reminds her of Solei, which might have her with the Caressing Soul that Solei has.

Innamorati- Quite feminine in some ways? But always quick to make sure others don't call him of any name like so since he doesn't want to be seen as a woman. He has the Changeling Soul. (Quite similar to Marina, but the opposite)

Toki- He's known as a wolf in sheep's clothing. Most likely having a Decrepit Soul.

Solei: @solei-eclipse , Aurien: @apriciticreveries , Vii - Saachi - Ji Woo - Ryu: @starry-skiez , Azure: @4listr , Jae - Evon: @kofeedoggo , Rose: @rosedeleca , Khoi - Sai - Vera - Ellie: @junebluues , Toon - Monica - Isla: @nottoonedin , Lang: @pwippy , Minori: @skyisjusthere , Stasya: @billwasnot , Tallis - Castor - Himei - Kyo: @bluemoonscape , Tov: @ivanttakethis , Noora - Lark: @kamersona , Onyx - Dian: @rockwgooglyeyes , Cirrus: @yunoftheclouds , Aegaeon: @paradisedisconcert , Moran: @geospiral , Flor: @sotogalmo , Akane: @aakaneeee , Vermillion: @subzeromoron , Daiki: @teapotuser , Ava: @paperstarry , Innamorati: @alien-til-i-stage , Toki: @z3r0styrant . (Possibly many more!! But by a screenshot this is all imma do).

*most SOULs have been repeated since there are only 15 known SOULs / I don't really know how SOULs work in Funger, and such. So- uhm. Yeah some of these are probably weird & wrong to the ones who know more of Funger than I do ( @dannybobany !!! ALNST OCs in funger!!)

**again, most SOULs aren't really that correct. I've tried, with the information I've been given of Fear and Hunger and the information I've been keeping in my head of the OCs in Season39. These aren't fully their SOULs, since I am not their creator (minus Flor, she is gonna stay with the Endless Soul). Basically; I was winging most of these SOULs

***There are only 15 known SOULs in Fear and Hunger, there is a chart of more SOULs but we don't have people with those souls just yet:

(so most of the SOULs in this post might be wrong as a whole, but I'm going off of what we do know as of now. So if these don't fit the characters, I'm sorry — I'm honestly doing all of this BY personality, and not really by their Zodiac Sign. But their Zodiac is mixed in, so)

[kuroppiii]

  matamis ᵕ̈        filipino hc!timeskip!boyfie!        iwaizumi hajime x gn (filo?)reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : sharing halo halo   ⋮⋮  on a hot summer day with haji

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛     ♡ # 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 - 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱     ♡ # ~1𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴     ♡ # 𝘤𝘸 : 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘫𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳     ( + 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰 ! ) ( 𝘵𝘣𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳     𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘰 ,     𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 )

🧸 directory ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ ( title translates to ‘ sweetness ’ 🤭 ) this is utterly and wholly self serving rahhhh !!! gonna be so honest i don ’ t speak the best tagalog ( my lolo and lola never taught me sigh ) so pls politely correct me if anything ’ s wrong ! <<33 ”

“sandali,” (wait a minute) iwaizumi used his spoon straw to push yours out from the bowl of halo halo as you were using the straw end, leaving you idiotically sucking on air through the straw before you completely registered what was happening.

you take your mouth of the straw and lightly hit him on the wrist as you whine, "bakit?" (why?)

a deep chuckle leaves his chest as he takes the spoon end of his utensil and starts stabbing the contents of the bowl, "babe, we haven't even mixed it yet-"

"i was taste testing it!" you argued back. all iwaizumi did in response was shake his head and click his tongue, continuing to mix up the bowl.

"you're always so particular about how we eat this," you huff, yet gave in and started helping him break up the toppings into the shaved ice dessert.

it was a hot summer day (arguably the best kind of day to eat halo halo), and you and iwaizumi decided to visit one of your favorite hole-in-the-wall destinations in the city. the owners were immigrants from the philippines, explaining why the resturaunt served the best filo food you've found in japan to date.

best of all, however, was that each summer the small restaurant brought back halo halo to their menu. and their halo halo had everything! what you and iwaizumi loved was that they didn't skimp on all the classic toppings–creamy ube ice cream, rich ube hilaya (jam), gulaman (gelatin), jackfruit, banana, and even crunchy corn flakes to finish it all off.

though your boyfriend's occupation as an athletic trainer meant he closely watched what he ate for the sake of being "healthy"... he could never deny getting a nostalgic taste of his childhood favorite whenever you suggested it during the summer months.

today–even though the owners had about four fans going in the room–it was so hot that the dessert was already starting to melt. getting impatient, you take a spoonful and quickly bring it to your mouth to avoid the evaporated milk from dripping on the establishment's table. (the sugar from the dessert is bound to leave the table sticky if any gets on it, and you wouldn't want to do that to the sweet lola (old lady) and lolo (old man) who ran the place.)

"hey! i wasn't done yet," iwaizumi protests, "you're gonna miss getting all the flavors in one bite, that's the point-"

you hold up a finger to shush him, closing your eyes savoring the taste you haven't had in months. he shuts up and lets you have your moment, but you notice a noticeable lack of clinking–almost as if your boyfriend isn't continuing on his usual halo-halo-eating ritual.

you crack one eye open to see him staring at you. not in a creepy way, but with a soft smile on his face. he had the look of admiration in his eyes... or maybe that was his sweat, you don't know. you open your other eye and tilt your head at him, amused.

"ano?" (what?) you tease, nudging his leg under the table with your foot, "haji, the halo halo's gonna melt, why aren't you eating?–"

"sarap?" (good?) he suddenly asks.

you go to reply "duh" but you're already eating another spoonful of halo halo so it just comes out in a hum, "mmrmh!"

he aimlessly digs his spoon into the dessert bowl a few more times, "y'know, i might just have to let you finish the whole thing-"

"HM? no way, we always share!" you go to prepare a spoonful with as many of the toppings as you can–the way you know he likes it–and hold it up to his face, your other hand underneath to prevent any from dripping on the table, "plus we already paid!"

like a toddler, he turns his face away, still glancing between the spoon and you, an annoying grin on his face.

"... sige!" (go on!) you were not about to let this bowl of heaven go to waste.

he guides your hand holding the spoon back to the bowl and nonchalantly shrugs, "i don't know why i always let you trick me into coming here, the amount of sugar in this is really bad for you-"

you groan at his health-talk, "but since when have you cared about that? it's lola and lolo's halo halo! it doesn't count."

then he laughs...

he's messing with you. now you can tell.

you don't know what he's trying to get at, but despite your frustration, you can't help but laugh a little with him (while eating that spoonful of halo halo for yourself, of course) because his eyes crinkle up as he smiles. the sound of his laugh makes you feel warm inside and you hope that by swallowing down another spoonful of frozen dessert your insides can cool down a bit from the sensation.

"yeah, well..." he starts, running a hand through his short hair, "also i think i could watch you finish this whole thing and i'd be satisfied."

"ano ba? (what the heck?) what are you even saying? did you get heatstroke?" you question before using the straw end of your utensil to sip some of the refreshing concoction in between you two. how could staring at you be better than eating halo halo? on a hot-ass day like this? you fear your boyfriend's gone mad from the heat.

almost as if he can hear your thoughts, he continues, "you look so happy every time you take a bite, you know that?"

you pause sipping from your straw, taken aback by the sudden comment.

he doesn't hesitate to add on, "sobrang ganda mo" (you're so pretty).

that's when you feel heat creep up onto your face, and hastily take another long sip from the cool halo halo, "d-don't be corny."

"i guess it's the nostalgia."

"you haven't even taken your first bite yet, you haven't even tasted-"

"mahal kita." (i love you)

"...... mahal din kita– kain na!" (i love you too– now eat!)

from that, he finally takes a bite of his own, and it's your turn to admire the lovely man that you somehow have the honor to have in your life.

[junjiie]

해찬  ##  🗯️ ⠀ &THEAFTERPARTY..

twenty four just a little. ⠀ wc 1.1k. ⠀ warnings none.

the sound of your keys in the door almost made hyuck jump three feet in the air from his place at the windowsill, where he was sitting with a bowl of cereal in his lap and his speaker playing next to him.

what followed was a desperate scramble for his phone to pause the sad playlist he’d put on to sulk to before you could get in the door, and also attempting to turn in his place to make it look like he was sitting in the windowsill.. casually, rather than staring out into the dark and wallowing in his own misery.

he’d just about managed it before you shouldered the door open and kicked it closed again, chucking your keys onto the kitchen counter and then collapsing backwards onto the sofa with a huff; coat still on, headphones still around your neck, baseball cap falling to the cushions below, and shoes still on from where your feet were dangling off of the other side. donghyuck watched the display with badly hidden amusement, attempting to hide his exhale of laughter but reportedly failing when your head snapped up and you shot him a glare. 

“leave me alone, i’m still reeling.”

he turned his face down to his bowl of half-abandoned cereal to try and hide the smile on his face, pushing a few floating cheerios around with his spoon as he replied.

“why? was it really that bad?”

you shuffled and maneuvered in place until you were lying flat on the sofa, trainer-clad feet still hanging off of one of the armrests, and nodded vigorously as best you could from your position.

“worse than bad, oh my god. maybe it was just because i was tired, or something, because i was not ready for him to drag me to the park and start jumping around all crazy with the speaker he apparently pulled out of his ass turned all the way up.”

his eyebrows raised in surprise, but before he could get a word in edgeways you were off again—and so he felt he could do nothing but relax in his windowsill spot and enoy your rant, spooning his remaining cereal into his mouth while he did so. your hands were waving in the air as you spoke, fabric of the coat you still had on swishing this way and that with the movement.

“like, why would you even do that on a blind date? maybe he was just trying to see if i was into the weird ones—which, i guess i am, kinda, but c’mon, at least ease me into it instead of just springing it on me like that. i’m never letting heeseung slip my name to anyone he knows ever again, i swear..”

a yawn interrupted your tangent, and donghyuck tried to stave away the endeared look that he could feel spreading on his face in response to the way you flailed to press the back of your hand over your mouth to stifle it, in case you happened to look over and witness him in all his full pathetic and loserish glory. he’d only just moved in—he couldn’t really afford to be kicked out again so soon. mark probably wouldn’t let him back on his rickety and scoliosis-inducing sofa.

“anyway,” were your first words after you’d recovered from your bout of sudden tiredness, heaving yourself into an upright position and fiddling with the zipper of your coat, eyes narrowing when you attempted to look over at what he was eating. “what’ve you been doing the whole night? and what’re you eating?”

donghyuck swallowed his latest mouthful of bordering-on-soggy cheerios and gestured the bowl in your direction before you stood to hang your coat up and discard your shoes and cap, trying not to shrink back into the window too obviously when you crossed the living room again and was suddenly very close to him, leaning over a little to get a better look at what was inside of his bowl. when you were apparently satisfied you straightened up again and made a short grabbing motion towards his spoon, speaking up when he didn’t react immediately.

“give me a bit, will you? just a little.“

maybe it was a bit embarrassing, how fast he handed his spoon to you and held up the bowl not long afterwards, but hyuck pushed the feeling aside in that moment. it wasn’t like anyone else was there to make fun of him for it. 

and thank god for that. he probably shouldn’t have been watching you eat nearly-soggy cheerios with the look he knew he most likely had on his face, but again—there was no one there to judge him for it, so he let himself this one time. the spoon clinked back against the rim of the bowl once you’d finished with it, and you then made a budge up motion with your hands, to which haechan stared up at you cluelessly for until you rolled your eyes and explained.

“move up, idiot, you can definitely fit two people in there.”

brown eyes widened in realisation, and hyuck hurried to comply, abandoning his speaker and nearly-empty bowl to the floor below to further make room for the two of you on the windowsill (and make sure he didn’t spill milk all over himself). you collapsed down next to him and pulled your legs up to hug your knees to your chest, all of your breath escaping you in one long sigh. your skin was smooth from where it was pressed up against his own bare arm, and donghyuck felt like his face was red, a little too hot than what he could excuse as the heat of the living room.

he needed to do something about this crush—preferably as soon as possible. and seeing as getting rid of it didn’t look like it was all that likely, especially with how he would be waking up to you more often than not, then..

donghyuck spared a glance in your direction, only to find you already staring straight at him, eyes wide and unblinking as you searched for something in his. startled, he whipped his head back around and listened as you snickered at his reaction, as you let your head fall onto his shoulder and all the tension seep out of your shoulders.

well. he might as well just suck it up and confess. but not just yet—again, he’d only just moved in. surely he could allow himself a few more weeks of peaceful domesticity before preparing to possibly having to give it all up again.

(as well as preparing his back to carry his suitcases five floors down again. if it had half-killed him the first time, it no doubt was going to finish him off the second time around).

(･o･;) 💣 ⠀ previous mlist next

JJ ₊ ⠀THIS IS SO BAD HELP MEEEE oh well

taglist ## @wave2love @mins-fins @kimgyuuu @wtfhyuck (perm) &&& @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @kosmicbomb @222brainrot @haohyo @dinonuguaegi @winuvs

[snkrbonbon]

[mania-sama]

Trick or treat!!! 😁

hello, dear! welcome to my humble abode! dig into this bowl to get some candy… ah! you’ve got a fanfiction line explanation! a rare gem indeed.

this excerpt is from if you need me, dear, i’m the same as i was:

He’s on the court before Sakusa is. He’s across the net before Argentina can celebrate their victory. He’s grabbing Oikawa’s shoulders tightly before anybody else can get to him. Iwaizumi stares into his estranged best friend’s glassy, confused, uncomprehending eyes. He’s shaking Tooru’s shoulders, desperate as he yells: “You are having a heart attack!” And Hajime is fifteen and three-quarters, learning emergency CPR for his new part-time job as a lifeguard. He thinks that it could come in useful. He thinks that saving people isn’t a job he would mind. And Hajime is sixteen, watching Tooru recover from his surgery, and he realizes he will never play professional volleyball. He wants to help people like Tooru forever — people who want to dedicate their whole life to a sport but have a body that strives to prevent their goal every step of the way. He can’t do that as a player on the court. And Hajime is seventeen, trying to convince Tooru to eat a sandwich even though he is adamantly insisting he isn’t hungry. He discovers sports medicine isn’t just about the physical ills and pains. To be a good athletic trainer, he has to see every aspect of a player’s well-being, and that includes their mental health. And Hajime is eighteen, standing alone in the airport and experiencing loss for the first time. In order for Oikawa to grow as an athlete, he has to cut away the weed strangling his roots. Hajime lets him without complaint. This is part of his new career, after all; if he helps athletes succeed, they would all, one day, leave his medical care. And Hajime is twenty-seven, losing his best friend for a second time at the end of the first set of chest compressions. At least three ribs have cracked under his pace and pressure. He pinches Tooru’s nose, pries his jaw open, and breathes air into his lungs twice. His ring and pinky finger automatically find his pulse point. Nothing. Seeing that no medical equipment has arrived, he starts the second set of chest compressions. Oikawa’s bones creak and give way under his desperation. He knows CPR like the back of his hand; if the ribs are breaking, that means it’s working. It doesn’t get rid of the panic and pain at the thought of how much damage he’s doing to Oikawa’s body. The paramedics are a second too late with their LUCAS device at the end of the last compression. He dives down for another round of mouth-to-mouth, recognizing, faintly yet viscerally at the same time, that Oikawa’s soft skin is pale and rapidly cooling. At the junction between his neck and jaw, Iwaizumi searches for a heartbeat. Breathe. Nothing. Breathe. Nothing.

this entire segment, as i intended, is meant to be read completely out of breath, gasping and choking on every single word. it’s meant to feel like the world is rushing and crumbling around you. it’s meant to be read at the speed of lightning, each word cackling and breaking. the periods in the paragraphs are merely suggestions; every paragraph starts with an and because the last sentence, the last paragraph never really ended.

it’s meant to be, in all intents and purposes, to be one continuous run-on sentence. unfortunately, that would be rather bad form for me as a writer. i don’t have the skill to pull it off just yet.

when you get to the “breathe. nothing. breathe. nothing.” it’s not supposed to be a gentle breathe. it’s supposed to be a gasp, panicked and hurting and desperate. it’s a cry, a sob of pain. medically, he’s doing a very measured recovery breath to force oikawa’s lungs into the action of breathing. mentally, it’s everything but measured. the “nothing” is crying. the actual sob with tears. nothing! he is screaming, knowing that his best friend is fucking dead, but he is saying nothing as he dives into another breath.

it should be read, more accurately, as: “gasp. please, please. don’t leave.”

and this all really stems from the line directly before this excerpt:

“Holy shit,” Iwaizumi whispers, all of the air leaving his lungs.

everything just rushed out of him. he has nothing left. and then, the buzzer sounds with this:

Sixteen to fourteen. Team Argentina wins Olympic gold.

that’s the last line of clarity before everything shatters. literally, the sound breaks with the buzzer as the entire world falls away and rushes at the same time.

this is probably my favorite part of the entire fic, one of my favorite things that i have ever written to date. i put a lot of care into this. everything i wrote came from the heart, and i hope how i intended it to be read translated well.

[docdetective]

In The Woods Somewhere

“What on earth do you normally eat?” she said, realizing she hadn’t seen any kind of meat, or cold items, not even jerky or tuna.

Logan thought quick. The real reason was, he hadn’t really been eating. “I was due for a supply run. Not only out of batteries. The storm is inconvenient as hell.”

It didn’t sound convincing to his ears, but logistically, he didn’t see any reason why she wouldn’t believe him. She wouldn’t know how much protein a human would have to consume to achieve his build, she worked with wild animals, not a personal trainer.

He figured he got away with it as she started collecting items and piling them on the table. He was suddenly ultra conscious of the cabin’s cleanliness. And where would she sleep? Not in the bedroom filled with empty whiskey bottles.

He put the batteries in the radio and set it to a channel he hoped she would like, muttering a quick “I’ll be right back.” As she set a pot of water to boil on the stove.

When he returned ten minutes later, from his frantic cleanup of the bedroom, Andi was humming along to the song blaring, something Logan didn’t recognize, about going to church. It made him think of Nightcrawler, of all of them in the kitchen together at the mansion. Marie and Kitty always wanting him to join in on karaoke. He shook his head. Not the time. Couldn’t scare her away into the storm by being emotional.

Andi was quite proud of herself for actually planning out a decent meal out of the scraps he had. As he reentered the main area of the cabin from the door he had disappeared into, she nodded down towards the pile of potatoes and onions.

“Want to start chopping?” She was knuckles deep in a bowl filled with some kind of sticky dough. She hoped he didn’t mind her telling him what to do, but she'd be damned if she had to do all of the cooking. He quietly moved to find a knife, and Andi watched with relief she hadn’t fucked anything up.

Logan found a knife in the drawer, and set to work on the pile of potatoes and onions in front of him, noting with some amusement how dull the blade seemed compared to his claws. The rhythmic sound of his knife against the cutting board filled the cabin, accompanied by the crackling of the fire and the soft music emanating from the radio.

They worked in sync, the tension between them still present, but it had mellowed. The sharp edge of it had dulled into something quieter. Andi could sense Logan’s unease, and she felt a little off-kilter herself. He certainly didn’t seem like a threat,if anything, he seemed more intent on avoiding her than anything else. Still, the thought crossed her mind. Was he trying to get something out of this situation?

She dismissed it. Logan didn’t strike her as the type of guy to manipulate her into bed. In fact, he seemed more confused by her presence than opportunistic. She glanced at him now and then, catching him doing the same. He wasn’t grumpy like before, but he was still closed off. Guarded. There was a tension in him, like he was trying to keep something under wraps, but she couldn’t figure out what.

Andi kept herself busy kneading the dough, but her eyes occasionally flicked to Logan as well, trying to read him. He wasn’t grumpy, not like the last time they met, but he was quiet. Guarded. She wondered if that was just his way or if it had something to do with her being here. There was a tension in the air, like he was on edge, but it wasn’t hostile. More like...nervous?

“Are you always this talkative?” Andi asked, her voice light, hoping to break the silence without making it awkward.

Logan didn’t look up from the chopping but smirked slightly, just a twitch of his lips. “Depends. Are you always this bossy?”

She raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the teasing tone. Not what she had expected. “Only when I have to be.” “Fair enough,” he replied, his eyes finally meeting hers briefly. There was a flicker of amusement there, but it vanished as quickly as it came. “I’m not used to having company, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Andi softened, sensing that maybe she’d hit closer to the truth than she realized. She was aware that Logan was something of a recluse, but this felt deeper than that. “Neither am I,” she admitted, focusing on her dough again, shaping it into rough rounds. She wasn’t exactly the type to hang out with neighbors, either. “I usually am up here completely alone all winter. The ones that stick it out don’t have much in common with me.”

Logan nodded, but didn’t respond, regretting not trying to carry the conversation when the silence returned, but it felt a little more comfortable now.

After a few more minutes, Logan set the chopped onions and potatoes aside. Andi glanced at the neat little piles and gave him an appreciative nod. “Thanks. You’re better at this than I expected.”

He snorted softly, leaning against the counter, the irony. “I’ve had lots of practice.”

Andi smiled, but again was hit with the realization he was no typical rough Alaskan hunter.. His movements were too precise, too calculated, even in something as simple as chopping vegetables. And there was the matter of his physique. He clearly wasn’t surviving on canned and dried food. As the soup simmered and the flatbread baked in the small oven, Andi leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching Logan as he stoked the fire. He moved with a quiet efficiency, but there was a restlessness about him, like he was constantly keeping himself in check.

“So,” she ventured, her tone deliberately overly casual, “what do you do up here all day? Besides chop wood in your living room, that is.”

Logan paused, his expression tightening for a fraction of a second before he shrugged. “Keep to myself. Hike, fish when the river’s not frozen.” He gestured outside vaguely. “Helps to keep the mind occupied.”

There it was again, that vagueness Andi wished she could find out the reason behind. Something unspoken. Andi wasn’t sure if he was deflecting or if he just didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that kept him out here.

The simplicity of his answer caught her off guard. She’d expected him to dodge the question again, but there was something raw in the way he said it. As if he hadn’t meant to be so honest..

Andi decided it was a good time to check the bread in the oven, pulling it out once the edges turned golden. The evening was settling into a comfortable rhythm, and neither seemed eager to disturb it.

Logan set the table in silence, his hands moving with a certain economy, two bowls, two spoons, and the pile of flatbread placed in the center. It was simple, almost domestic, and the thought stirred something uncomfortable in him. He wasn’t used to this; sharing a space, a meal. It felt... intimate, even though it wasn’t supposed to be.

Andi ladled the soup into the bowls, feeling Logan’s presence behind her, handing him the full bowl. They sat down, across from one another at the small wooden table. The crackle of the fire and the storm outside were the only sounds as they dug into the meal.

Andi blew on her spoon before taking a bite, her eyes lighting up as the rich flavors hit her tongue. Logan watched her expression and realized he was ravenous from the smell, and quickly shoved the hot soup in his mouth, closing his eyes as the warmth traveled to his belly. It wasn’t just the physical warmth, but the wave of emotional warmth it brought him. Sitting at a table, with someone that admittedly, was there of his urging, but seemed to be comfortable and was good company. The months of only existing had not taken a toll on his body, but as he felt his brain relax, this was good for him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had missed the domesticity of the school, of talking with someone that wasn’t scared of him.

Andi glanced up, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It’s not bad for canned goods and some old potatoes.”

“Better than anything I’ve eaten in a long time,” Logan said, and Andi caught the genuine expression on his face. He wasn’t lying, she could tell from the instant relaxation into his chair how much he suddenly warmed up to her.

“It was a mutual effort.” Andi grinned at him from over her bowl. “I’m surprised you know how to cook at all, actually, with what was on your shelves.”

Logan snorted, dipping a piece of the bread into the soup. “Yeah, well, when you’re out in the middle of nowhere, you learn to fend for yourself. I’m no chef, but I won’t starve.” She smirked, leaning back in her chair. “I half expected you to just hunt something down and eat it raw.”

Logan’s lips twitched into the hint of a smile. “That’s a last resort. Don’t want to scare off the neighbors.” Andi snorted, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Yeah, all those neighbors around here. The trees would really freak out."

Logan gave her a sideways glance, the corners of his mouth still tugged upward. "You never know. There might be a squirrel or two keeping tabs on me." “Oh, definitely. I can see it now, a squirrel patrol reporting back about the strange guy who lives in the cabin. ‘He’s chopping firewood again, fellas. Same guy, same routine. Real suspicious. Better tell the forest ranger.’”

Logan chuckled, a low rumble that Andi found oddly comforting, and she realized it was the first time he had really laughed. She leaned in a little, her smile playful as she held his gaze. He felt himself melt a little into that gaze, the laugh coming from deep inside his chest, a foreign sensation.

Logan paused, his expression faltering just for a second before he masked it again. “I’m just a guy who likes to keep to himself. Nothing special.”

“‘Nothing special,’” Andi repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, right. You walk around like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, you can’t sleep, and somehow you manage to chop firewood indoors, making a total mess of the place. Sure, nothing special at all.”

Logan shot her a look. “I didn’t say I was neat about it.”

She laughed, the sound light and genuine, and for a moment, the tension that had been building all night seemed to ease. Logan found himself relaxing, letting the conversation flow in a way he hadn’t expected.

“I’ll admit,” Andi said, swirling her spoon in the bowl, “I didn’t think you’d be this decent to hang out with. You’ve got that whole lone wolf vibe down, and I figured you’d just grunt through dinner and call it a night.”

Logan tilted his head. “And yet, here you are.” “Excuse me, I’m here because you wouldn’t let me leave.” A hint of a challenge in her voice. “You know, I feel like you owe me the story of why you're up here in the dead of winter if I’m going to be trapped here with you all night. You’re not like the other men that stick around.”

Logan raised his eyebrows, clearly deflecting. “You always this nosy?”

Andi grinned, leaning her chin on her hand. “Only when I’m snowed in with a guy who chops wood in the living room.”

He shook his head, a reluctant smile pulling at his lips, as much as he didn’t want to tell her the truth. “Fair enough.” She watched him for a beat, realizing he wasn’t going to elaborate. She couldn’t be too upset, if he had asked her, she wouldn’t be telling him, either. “I don’t know, Logan. You’re kind of growing on me. I never thought I’d say that about a guy who broods for a living.”

“Brooding’s a full-time job, sweetheart.” he replied, deadpan, which made Andi snicker.

“Well,” she said, finishing off her bowl, “next time I need someone to sulk in the corner while I make dinner, I’ll know where to go.” Logan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “And I’ll know who to call when I run out of ideas for making soup.”

“Deal,” she said, smiling despite herself. For a brief moment, it felt like the walls between them weren’t so high.

They finished their second helping with companionable silence, and slowly the awkwardness between them lessened. Andi had never been the type to feel uncomfortable in silence, it was something she had grown used to in the wild. But with Logan, it was different. He seemed like a man who carried too much, weighed down by whatever shadows he was trying to escape. And yet, sitting here, eating soup across the table from her, he almost seemed... normal.

He was glad to see she didn’t seem bothered by the quiet. In fact, she looked almost content, sitting there, wrapped in the warmth of the cabin. When he had insisted she stay, he hadn’t thought through this part, the part where he had to be in her presence for hours on end, feeling the pressure to entertain her. When she finished, she stood and carried both bowls to the small sink. Logan followed her with his gaze, then got up to help her clean up. As he moved beside her, the proximity felt charged, but neither of them acknowledged it. They washed the dishes in silence, their movements synchronized, careful not to brush against each other. Andi could feel his presence, though, a solid, grounding force at her side.

Once the dishes were done, they both lingered by the sink, neither knowing exactly what to do next. The fire crackled softly behind them, casting a warm glow across the room. Outside, the storm continued its relentless assault on the world beyond the cabin walls, but in here, it was still.

Logan cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "You can take the bedroom," he said, nodding toward the door he had disappeared through earlier. "I'll sleep out here."

Andi hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice soft but steady. "I don't mind taking the couch."

Logan just nodded once and sat down on the sofa, staring into the fire. The subtle shift in his posture made it clear: the conversation was over. Andi felt strangely dismissed, like she was being gently pushed out of the moment they had just shared.

The finality in his body language left no room for argument, and Andi didn’t press him further. She nodded, her steps measured as she made her way toward the bedroom. The room was simple, but cleaner then she had expected, the bed piled high with blankets.

Before closing the door, Andi glanced back at him. Logan remained by the fire, his broad back turned to her, his stance rigid as if he were bracing himself against something unseen.

"Goodnight, Logan," she said softly, her voice carrying across the still room.

Previous Part Next Part

[catch-needed-hobbies]

Little AEW x Pokémon thingy feat. Hook and Orange Cassidy

Orange Cassidy was not an energetic guy; a lot of people confused it with apathy but that implied he didn’t care about things. He cared about things but he just couldn’t be bothered to show his excitement most times. Right now as he watches what is in his opinion the most adorable exchange he’s bore witness to, he thinks about how other people probably think he doesn’t care at all. They’d be wrong.

“They’re still at it?” For the first time in the ten minutes it took his tag-partner to return from the vending machine, Orange looks away from the scene in front of him to address Hook, who has a bag of Doritos in his hands now.

“Yeah. They have not stopped. It’s very cute.” Just from the tone, you wouldn’t guess that Orange had already taken about a hundred pictures so he can look back at them later.

In that moment, Hook’s Pokémon partner finished his little lap around the locker room once again, capping it off by jumping up high enough to kick the berry laying on top of Snorlax’s head perfectly and into the painted target behind.

As the little Raboot began another lap, running past his trainer and his tag-partner as he did, Snorlax grabbed two berries from the bowl, eating one then placing the other on his head.

Their trainers meanwhile, watched in silence. It was a good exercise for Raboot; Snorlax was very tall for the little Fire type, even when sitting down, so he was getting some good high kick practice.

As another berry hit the bullseye perfectly and Raboot began to run again, Snorlax reached toward the bowl only to show the first bit of emotion of the day as he realized they were out of berries.

Well you did eat about half of them bud. Orange thought seeing his companion shake the bowl as if that would magically make more berries appear.

Raboot reached the larger ‘Mon and jumped up high only to stop in his tracks mid kick, noticing the lack of a target on his buddy’s head.

Gracefully, he let himself fall back down and kick at the floor a little in frustration. But soon enough, he put his little paws back in the pouch on his belly—Taz would always laugh at how “Of course you’d have a Pokémon with built in hoodie pockets Hook”—and walked back to his trainer, putting out a single paw in the air.

Hook in return, lowered the Doritos bag to his partner and let the little guy grab a singular chip that he began munching on like a piece of lettuce.

Orange just stared curiously. “Should he be eating that?” It was a genuine concern; he knew certain Pokémon couldn’t eat chocolate for example, what would a Dorito do to one of them?

“Yeah, I’ve seen him eat coal out of fireplaces so, I think he’ll be fine. Not the first time he’s had one anyway.” And with that silence befell the locker room again. Raboot began playing with one of the rocks he kept in his pockets and Snorlax—surprising no one—fell asleep on the floor.

It didn’t matter; their tag match wasn’t for another 20 minutes. They could just rest for now.

[plaidbooks]

Pokémon, park, picnic + fluff

The park was always nice at this time—there were people and Pokemon alike milling about, jogging, taking pictures. You loved the sound of it, and the different things you saw.

A woman with a parasol—for the heat and shade—walked by with her nose up, and her Purrloin had the same type of arrogance in its gait.

A kid threw a frisbee for his Growlithe, and the Pokemon chased after it.

A man bought ice cream for his kids, and water that he put in a reusable bowl for the Eevee that was excitedly drinking from it.

Relaxing by the lake, you stretched your arms over your head, your Piplup doing the same. She looked at you for confirmation, and you nodded, “go swim.”

Instantly, Piplup tottered to the edge of the lake and jumped in, swimming—and cooling off—happily.

Just then, a man jogged up close to you. He was drenched in sweat—obviously, he was running through the park—and his Boltund had its tongue out in a pant.

The man took out a headphone and gestured to the bench you were on.

“Mind if I sit while Bolty swims a little?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Not at all.”

He sat next to you gratefully as Boltund dove into the water.

“You must be a hell of a trainer if your Boltund doesn’t shock anyone in the lake,” you mused, and you meant it.

The man grinned. “Bolty knows how to contain his electricity.” He leaned back, taking a deep breath. “Name’s Joe, by the way.”

You replied with your name before letting your eyes go back to Piplup, who was overjoyed in the water. The bathtub you had at home for her was good, but fresh air and the lake was better.

Bending down, you opened the basket at your feet and took out a sandwich.

“Would you like half?” you asked Joe. “Piplup and I usually have a picnic here once or twice a week, and I always pack extra for any hungry Pokemon—or people.”

Joe smiled. “Nah, I’m good. If I ate in the middle of a run, I’d get sick.”

You nodded in understanding. “I do have fresh water, too.”

“Now that, I’ll be happy to have.”

You passed Joe the fresh water then fell to talking as your Pokemon played in the lake. By the end of the conversation, you had exchanged numbers, and Joe would be having a picnic with you next week.

[abandoned-mars]

humanstuck names + more ! :]

john - ivan greenfield; korean/english; comic book store employee + shifty mom & pop restaurant waiter/support staff

rose - lavender buchanan; vietnamese/dominican?; sells custom clothes on depop + nsfw tumblr writer/artist

dave - dominic santiago; puerto rican/dominican; audio tech store employee + local club dj + aspiring rapper

jade - dahlia flores; pacific islander; unemployed, works for family farm

aradia - gabriella diamanté; japanese/mexican; texas road house type restaurant kitchen expo/dishwasher

tavros - antonio ‘tony’ noquez; spanish; works at dad’s animal shelter

sollux - niko park; korean; probably unemployed or sells nfts or some shit

karkat - donnie santos; black/colombian; mexican restaurant busboy + movie theatre employee

nepeta - june bernard; french/irish (white); dairy queen employee lol + volunteers @ pet shelter

kanaya - harper norris; african; sells custom clothes

terezi - quinn nephus; greek/italian (white); unemployed

vriska - viktoria ‘vikki’ huffman; russian (white); rue 21 cashier (is about to be fired)

equius - sterling rudd; black/native american?; training to be a mechanic at dad’s auto shop

gamzee - jordan scott; black/mixed; little caesar’s cook

eridan - cory reynolds; russian/scottish (white); unemployed

feferi - josephine galette; black/indian?; diner waitress + volunteers @ pet shelter

jane - janet greenfield; korean/english; pastry shop employee

roxy - macy buchanan; vietnamese/black; shitty dive bar bartender

dirk - diego santiago; puerto rican/dominican; burger king window worker/cook

jake - fletcher flores; pacific islander; texas roadhouse waiter + works on family farm

hal - alex santiago; puerto rican/dominican; thrift store cashier + furry tumblr artist

damara - anastasia ‘ana’ hoshi; japanese/mexican/filipino; hotel maid + fancy-ish restaurant waitress

rufioh - richard ‘richie’ noquez jr.; spanish; works at dad’s pet shelter + grocery store bagger

mituna - tatum ‘tate’ park; korean/welsh?; pizza delivery boy + aspiring twitch streamer

kankri - marcus santos; colombian/egyptian; diner waiter

meulin - lauren ‘laurie’ bernard; french/irish (white); coffee shop barista + tumblr writer/artist

porrim - elle norris; african; high end fashion store employee

latula - presley nephus; greek/italian (white); bowling alley attendant + dive bar bar back

aranea - leah huffman; white; restaurant hostess + interning at mom’s job

horuss - kade rudd; black/native american; dad’s auto shop mechanic + welder

kurloz - jesse scott; mixed; mexican restaurant dishwasher/cook + drug dealer

cronus - trent reynolds; white; works at dad’s company

meenah - natasha galette; black; new wave fashion store + aspiring hair braider

handmaid - hanna hoshi; japanese; house cleaner

summoner - richard ‘rich’ noquez sr.; spanish; owns the local pet shelter + personal trainer

psiioniic - jonathon park; korean; data entry manager + fixes computers for extra money

signless - derrick santos; colombian; preacher/missionary?

disciple - lizette bernard; irish; elementary school teacher

dolorosa - rosa norris; african; interior decorator?

redglare - monroe nephus; greek; lawyer

mindfang - marina huffman; russian; runs her own business (it’s a cover up for some illegal shit)

darkleer - darius rudd; native american, owns an auto shop + army weapons coordinator

ghb - grant scott; black; club bouncer

dualscar - dylan reynolds; russian; chief of surgery at hospital?

hic - cora galette; black; ceo of large cooperation (somewhat in cohorts with marina + dylan)

dad - david greenfield; white; 9-5 sales businessman

mom - lorelei buchanan; vietnamese; retired (used to be a scientist but found the cure to something and retired at like 35)

bro - drew santiago; dominican; club bouncer/dj/bartender + drug dealer + probably has an only fans

grandpa - jake flores; pacific islander; retired air force

calliope - caroline ‘callie’ umbridge; mixed; librarian assistant + stage manager at local theatre

caliborn - caleb umbridge; mixed; unemployed (reddit sub moderator)

i might go back and edit some of these bcus im not in love w all of them but i also don’t give a fuck abt most of them