#I don’t know how to get it out of my system

[no-144444]

don’t embarrass me- l.norris

summary: lando and you have a fight on NYE

pairing: lando norris x fem! reader

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You were angry. Every five seconds you had a friend asking if you and Lando had broken up, all because Maugi (one of Lando’s friends) was trying to make it look like she was with Lando. It was infuriating.

“You alright baby?” Lando whispered as he leant against you, the party already in full swing. You looked fabulous. Silver and gold for the new year. You looked like a million bucks. Yet you felt like a fraud. Every time you saw them together you felt yourself… shrink. Like you had to make room for their friendship. Whenever you’d try to talk to him about it, you were met with more questions than answers, and a lot of aggression.

You didn’t care anymore.

“I’m good,” you smiled. “You?”

“I’m great,” he smirked, pulling your waist into his. “You look fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, dotting kisses against your cheek.

You grinned. “Thanks baby.”

His grip tightened but over his shoulder you saw him. Oscar. Lando’s teammate. Lando’s friend. You had a plan, and you were going to make Lando pay for brushing you off.

“Wanna get out of here-?” Lando had started to speak, but he was cut off when you walked away, and straight into Oscar’s arms. He assumed after a little while, you’d come back. You didn’t. You and Oscar spent all of New Year’s Together, while Lando was stuck with Max and Pietra looking every part the perfect couple.

“Why are you sulking?” Max laughed, clapping Lando on the back.

“She’s gone off with Oscar,” he mumbled, looking up as he leant against the balcony railing.

“He is her best mate,” he pointed out. “Join the conversation, or at least hang off her like you usually do.”

He huffed. “She’s mad at me.”

“What did you do this time?” P asked.

“The whole Maugi thing kind of got to her, and when she’d ask me… I kind of brushed her off. She's been off for weeks.”

“So you fucked up?” Max sighed.

“I fucked up,” he nodded. “And now she’s ignoring me, and it’s 3 minutes to midnight.”

“She’ll let you be her New Year’s kiss, surely,” Max scoffed.

Lando nodded, deciding to go find you, but the uncertainty in his stomach had settled long ago.

He caught you from across the room, the absolute picture of beauty. Dancing haphazardly with Lily as Oscar held both your drinks, you danced, somehow looking somehow carefree and elegant at the same time. He smiled. The anxiety in his chest settled momentarily. You were still you. You were still his. You were just upset.

“It’s almost midnight,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, joining you in dancing as Lily excused herself to the bar. The red flashing lights and alcohol in both your systems made your dancing look a lot dirtier than it had intended to be, but alas, he just enjoyed feeling you close.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, turning around to him. “Finding Maugi anytime soon?”

He rolled his eyes. “You think I’d want her over you?”

“You don’t make it look any different,” you scoffed.

“Baby,” he smirked, practically laughing. “You’re the most perfect, incredible, kind, woman I have ever met. I love you. You’re my everything. I’ll admit when you came to me about it, I could’ve responded better, and I’m sorry. I was stressed about the way the media saw it, and I didn’t know how to respond to you. I’m sorry.”

You smirked. “That’s all I needed.”

He giggled, pulling you into him. How had he ever pulled you? He was such a loser when it came to you. He’d do anything.

“Do I get my midnight kiss?” He smiled, his cheeks blushing.

“You’re such a baby,” you chuckled as the timer counted down. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Don’t ever embarrass me like you have, ever again.”

You pressed your lips to his and bit down on his bottom lip. You made him scared. Is it bad that made him hard?

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navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

[sillymodezeenith]

I have a stupid rare blood disorder and I relate to this cat on a DEEPLY LITERAL level.

For background, I have Hereditary Hemochromatosis; which isn’t particularly rare. A lot of older adults discover they have it when it starts damaging their liver.

Basically, over simplified, you eat things, and absorb iron into your body. Yummy! Good for you! However, my body cannot get RID of iron, and absorbs more iron from the things I consume. Which means I have Too Much Iron. It’s dumb and painful (in a lot of weird ways???).

My liver damage started when I was 14. That is about the most abnormal thing that I could’ve possibly happened to me. There is one singular doctor in my entire state that’s had another juvenile HH patient, and he’d only ever met one (besides me). That’s STUPID. I genuinely cannot convey to you how fucked up and strange that is. I physically should not have been alive along enough to accumulate enough iron to make my organs upset. There’s definitely factors that made it worse, but to this day no one knows how or why I got enough iron that it was having profoundly negative effects.

I’ve been weird and fucked up my entire life and when I was 10~ish a doctor prescribed me iron supplements to see if I’d be, for simplicities sake, less fucked up. She did this without checking my iron levels, or doing any lab work. Anemia is common, some of my symptoms can look similar— Im also autistic and fucking love chewing on ice. That’s a stereotypical sign of anemia— so she just gave me iron and shooed me away. Unsurprisingly, I got worse relatively quickly (again, remember that most people don’t have issues with HH until they’re over 50). I stopped taking the iron supplements pretty fast, but that 4 years was the sharpest and most miserable decline of my life.

I picked up a LOT of weird, shitty, presumably unhealthy habits around then. At that point I still wasn’t diagnosed, and no one knew why I was so goddamn sick; but relevant to this post, I got a CRAZY caffeine addiction. A truly shocking level of caffeine intake. I mean, the amount and potency of what I was drinking meant that most doctors from that point on brushed off my medical issues as being a Freak with too much caffeine and told me to drink water and cut that out. Following medical advice had always made me feel Worse.

You will Never Guess what inhibits iron absorption.

Caffeine. Or, more specifically polyphenols, but the distinction doesn’t actually matter in this.

ALSO, related: You know how we all make fun of 17th century doctors for their obsessions with fluids and bloodletting.

Do you want to know the treatment for iron overload? They fucking took my blood. They just drained that shit and I FELT BETTER. The one treatment that’s pretty notoriously dunked on and made fun of for its lack of benefits. They just took my blood Out of my body, once a week, until I ran out of iron and just had normal blood. Therapeutic phlebotomies. That’s STUPID. It’s a stupid way for my body to work and it PISSES ME OFF!!!

Also final unrelated note, the doctor that discovered my iron overload was my PSYCHIATRIST— Hemochromatosis can cause/exacerbate symptoms similar to bipolar disorder, which I was in treatment for— and she was the ONLY DAMN PERSON to do her due diligence with ordering a full panel of labs, and discovering my iron was DANGEROUSLY HIGH. I owe her my fucking life. Not once did she do her job as my actual psychiatrist and spent 99% of our visits navigating the hospital system and finding specialists for me.

Sometimes I think a lot about my mom's cat

My mom's cat is a common domestic shorthair we found on the side of the road as a kitten

Regular cat, not a maine coon or one of those massive breeds. His mom was smaller than a loaf of bread

But in a sort of a Clifford The Big Red Dog situation, he grew super fast, and really really big, and took a super long time to stop growing

Worried that she was overfeeding him, she eased back his portions, but he stayed a massive round baby

When he started having kidney problems, she took him to the vet.

The vet took a look at him and said, "holy fuck, what are you feeding him", checked the nutritional listings on his chow, and told her "Yeah, maybe he's reacting badly to the amount of grain in this, try a meatier diet"

So my mom wound up special-ordering this specific high-protein prescription cat food made of like. Kangaroo meat or some shit that cost like sixty bucks a bag

And, as typical act two in an episode of House, he somehow got worse on the fancy specialized stuff that was supposed to be Primo Athlete Olympic Feline Blend

Like. WAY worse. His guts were inflamed and his kidneys were shutting down and he was all sore and HE WAS STILL HUGE, just miserable and sad

So shetook him back to the vet, where they had to help him pee (he was apparently close to bursting and had some kind of blockage too) and went "Yeah no this is NOT normal and we don't know what's going on, we're gonna do some tests but in the meantime you should go back to what he was eating before, at least that wasn't actively killing him" so she did

And he still wasn't great, but he also improved

And so they take his blood and do an ultrasound and a couple g's later she gets a call back like "this is gonna sound crazy, but we want you to put him on a low-meat diet. Just the least amount of protein and iron and shit. We need you to find the grainiest, filler-iest dollar tree kibble available and give him some of that bad bad shit"

And my mother is a woman of science. So she did

And he GOT BETTER

His energy picked back up, inflammation went down, he started drinking normally again, got back to pissing like a fuckin champion

And so it turns out that out of all the random ass freeway bonus cats we possibly could have scooped out of a ditch, WE got the one-in-a-million freak of nature with a SPECIFIC genetic defect that means a paleo protein free range diet is essentially poison and he THRIVES on cheap ass garbage

Like. He medically NEEDS junk food

I dont really understand how that works, but i cant argue with results.

If we had four of him, they'd outweigh my mom. And he's FINE

Also blind, but that's unrelated

Im not using him as a symbol or a metaphor or anything. I just keep catching myself thinking about my mom's Big Fucking Cat

[plaidcowboy]

છ !loner!shoupe being rafe’s alibi

── ✦ .ᐟ loner!shoupe!reader

  ‧₊˚ ׁ  ׅ after the peterkin situation :

୭ 𝜗𝜚 ⠀ ┈─⠀ִㅤ ░ ㅤׄ

“i can log into the system.. and cause an error so they can’t track the gun to you..” you held your phone tightly to your cheek, peering at your cracked door for any movement of your dad. rafe whispered back in response to your whispering, though he didn’t need to.

“you can do that for me, fugitive?” his low voice sounded in your ear.

you’d do anything for him. this was only the first of many instances to come that would prove that. you knew upon meeting him you would do whatever to make him stay. there wasn’t anything you were opposed to doing for him. he confided in you about his family issues which only made you feel that more protective. nothing could come between you two. neither of you would let it. what rafe did to the sheriff didn’t come close to what he would do if you were taken from him.

“of course.. i.. i don’t want them to figure out it’s yours. that would mean they’d connect you shot her. i don’t want you to go to jail, rafe. i don’t know what i’d do..”

“shh. i don’t want that, either. they think they’re testing me with this peterkin situation, if anything happens with you, i’ll show them how far i can go”

rafe’s constant reassuring words always made you swoon. no one wanted you like that. no one showed you they cared like rafe does. he showed you the standard of how you should be treated. you thrived off of it.

“but nothing’s going to happen. not with you being so good to me. what did i do to deserve you?”

you started, taken aback by his question. “i don’t deserve you. you treat me too well, i.. i can do more. i can get the cops to focus on the actual perp.. i’ll make them lock him up, you won’t have to worry..”

“no, don’t do that. you’re doing good already, it’s fine.” rafe hadn’t told you who the real perpetrator was. as much as he trusted you with his secrets, this one he still didn’t yet want to tell. you would never rat out ward, him being too close to rafe. it would only upset rafe and that was the last thing you wanted. rafe knew it would only make you more upset with ward. he didn’t need you worrying.

“okay.. i’ll call you tomorrow once i finish.”

 ‧₊˚ ׁ  ׅ visiting rafe in jail :

୭ 𝜗𝜚 ⠀ ┈─⠀ִㅤ ░ ㅤׄ

“no, don’t tear up, you tried your best” rafe wished he could reach through the glass to wipe your tears. your plan to sabotage the computer system did work.. but your father came up with a different way to figure out who the murder weapon belonged to. which led to you and rafe being separated by aforementioned glass.

you softly sniffled, bringing up your sleeve covered arm that went past your wrist to swipe at your nose. “i know.. but..” you hiccuped. “..now you’re in there” your nose twitched.

“i don’t want those tears messing with my little fugitive’s pretty face. i’m not mad at you, alright?”

you sighed out a breath, collecting yourself. “okay.. do you need me to do anything? check on your sisters?”

rafe appreciated your willingness to help. you were always willing. whatever made rafe happy. even messing with the law. or talking to his sisters for the first time..

“nah, don’t talk to them. ’specially not sarah. i’ll deal with her myself” he trailed off to a mumble, slight vengeance forming in his eyes. it should scare you, the inference of what rafe would do to his sister. but you didn’t like sarah’s traitorous actions. family or not, anyone who didn’t care for rafe like you did didn’t stand out in your book. of course, you’d yet to find out what rafe did to sarah.

“okay.. anything else?”

rafe leaned closer to the glass, assessing you. “i’d love if you could visit everyday..”

“i will. i’ll come see you everyday” you rushed out before rafe could finish his sentence. he smirked at your eagerness.

“..but you can’t make your dad suspicious of where you’re going everyday.” you slightly pouted, knowing he was right. you only were able to get away and see rafe now because your dad was called to a scene. usually, he wouldn’t be letting you out of his sight.

“so.. you still got that camera, right?” he referred to your polaroid that you kept on your dresser. that you two used to take pictures of yourselves to keep. you two couldn’t always be around each other what with your dad’s relationship with rafe and reluctance to let you out of the house. “yeah..”

“could you take some pictures for me? don’t think i can go too long without seeing that pretty face.” rafe spoke with an awe to his voice. you wouldn’t get enough of his compliments.

“okay. whatever you want.” you attempted a smile at him.

୭ 𝜗𝜚 ⠀ ┈─⠀ִㅤ ░ ㅤׄ

‧₊˚ ׁ  ׅ part two..

[anxiouslypretty5]

ALL of MY VOID success stories

before i get to anything, no im not giving you proof, (not because im lying. but because i simply don’t have too) and 2 don’t even ask🫶🏽

1st void state success story (2022/2023 idk)

i used the lullaby method idk who the original creator is but i’ll just tell you what i manifested.

revising my age + my birth year

getting rid of odd genetic traits (sicknesses)

removing my eczema

a 360 appearance change

becoming more hyperfeminine

getting rid of stereotypes

becoming very smart in school

a new phone

better vocal cords

my mom owning a successful flower shop

2nd void state success story (2023)

a few college recommendations

once in a lifetime opportunities

a necklace that allows me to shift to any universe i desire to be in

removing my shyness + ed

a violin

my desired wardrobe

weighing 35KG forever (I DO NOT SEE MY BONES, DONT take it out of context)

curvy waist

3rd void state success story (2024)

concert tickets

fun exciting life

bug repellent (i hate bugs)

better immune system + my body naturally restoring healthy cells every day (safely)

changed my eating habits

reversing/fixing my mental health

getting rid of all generational curses

everyone in my family knowing how to talk to each other maturely

revising a death that was the root cause of my family breakage

healthy teeth + immune to getting any type of cavity or mouth infection/disease

exceeding the beauty standards (goes for like every country)

hairless body (except for my eyelashes, eyebrows and my hair ofc)

being good at every game i play

a few trips to brazil, jamaica, qatar, japan and france

made school more fun and also making the teachers teach me useful information

homework not existing anymore

all my desired perfumes

walking in heels is always comfortable and my feet never hurt after so many hours

4th void state success story (2025)

basically anything i even think of instantly comes to me

knowing how to do hair

a great cook and knowing how to make the cutest pastries

being able to lucid dream every night + waking up in the void every morning

use my ideas as inspiration idc (wisely) 😭 i’m barely on this app because look at my LIFE. have fun manifesting though guys🫶🏽

[sonotpattismith]

gee willikers, batman!

pairing: boxer!choso x nurse!reader word count: 11k content: fluff, always a lil angsty w/ me, commitment issues, mentions of toxic relationship dynamics, for my girlies w/ a fearful-avoidant attachment style, big brother choso, mentions of abuse and domestic violence, smut, 18+ a/n: not sure if I like how this turned out but alas we shall persevere :')

You desperately needed to develop a better taste in men. Or a therapist. Whichever came to you faster would be best. 

In reality, it should have been a sign early on into your career when you were so drawn toward the Emergency Department specifically that perhaps you had a certain… affinity for the more chaotic things in life. It was evident in your job, and it was evident in your disaster ex-boyfriend who you’d just broken up with a mere week shy of your one year anniversary. 

He, like the many other men you’ve let waltz into your life, might as well have had ‘RED FLAG’ tattooed across his forehead, but it seemed you were never satisfied unless you were on the brink of a complete crash out— at least that was how you’d always felt until now. Maybe you were getting too old for it, all the bad boy types who had you clinging onto your phone in a furious rage most nights arguing over god knows what. It was never simple, but you seemed to enjoy the thrill of the ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ types of attitudes. 

Again, at least until your latest wannabe edge lord candidate had had you so fed up with his overbearing possessiveness that you were sure your nervous system was completely fried. It wasn’t until that last fight though, that ended with your phone screen shattered after he’d tossed it across the room in a child-like tantrum that was just so like him— the one after which you found yourself having to practice the very same fucking grounding techniques you’d show your patients when experiencing panic attacks prior to procedures— you thought perhaps it was time for a change. 

Which was precisely why you couldn’t for the life of you understand why your coworker insisted on taking you here of all places. Ierie had been working with you for a few years now, so she had already heard about every argument, block, and makeup between you and that disaster of an ex-boyfriend of yours. Though she tried (not very hard but tried nonetheless) to conceal her unbridled excitement when you told you that you had ended things, she was practically bursting at the seams. 

After the poorly concealed praise to a higher being she performed following the news, she did still want to be there for you. That was why she insisted on hanging out tonight so you wouldn’t have to be alone on what was supposed to be your one year anniversary. The catch was though, she seemed to have forgotten that she had already promised one of her long time friends from highschool that she’d be at his fight that same night. 

Which led you to the very predicament you were in now, damn near overstimulated by the hollering and sweaty bodies pushing against you in the overcrowded, modestly sized arena that looked like it hadn’t been maintenanced in at least ten years. Ierie’s cold hand was dragging you by the wrist to assure you didn’t get swallowed up by the crowd, claiming that her friend had already reserved two spots toward the front. 

“I know I came here to support him, but I don’t think Suguru is winning this thing.” She shouted over the crowd once you two found your spots, watching as a burly man stalked around the area taking bets for the fight. 

“Geez, some friend you are.” You snorted with an amused shake of your head. “Does he suck or something?”

Truthfully, you knew nothing about boxing. It was never really your thing, even though you seemed to have quite a few mutual friends involved in the local boxing scene. You weren’t sure of the big names that everyone threw around, who was good and who was mediocre. Despite the fact that you’d much rather be rotting in bed, wallowing in your own self-pity right about now, you figured you should at least try to enjoy yourself and understand what you were watching. 

“No, it’s not that.” She shook her head, her neck craning up to watch as the boxers began making their way out. “The guy he’s going up against is like a fucking machine. He never loses— at least I’ve never seen it.”

“Crazy strong?” You assumed, watching as the man you recognized as her friend hopped into the ring, his long hair pulled back into a neat bun out of his face. Shoko hummed unconvincingly. 

“Nah, I heard he’s got a kid or something. So, I think he’s just crazy determined is all.” 

You hummed, suddenly intrigued to see someone going against Geto— who was already scarily large in your book— with nothing but pure motivation to provide under his belt. As they announced his name— Choso— and he ducked into the ring across from his opponent, you realized that he definitely had more on his side than Shoko let on. 

“Holy shit.” You muttered under your breath, lips parting as you watched him shed his jacket. He looked fairly young for a father, but the dark circles under his eyes surely fit the bill. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so shocked given his line of work, but the man was built like a tank, insanely broad shoulders to carry around those down right dangerous biceps of his.

“Eh? Didn’t I say this would take your mind off of what’s his face?” Your friend grinned knowingly with a teasing nudge of her elbow. She jutted her chin toward the ring. “Think his kid needs a step-mom?”

“Ierie,” You flushed with a breathless laugh. Suguru and Choso met in the middle of the ring, touching their gloved fists together as they awaited the match to begin. “Did you not hear me when I said I need a little bit of peace in my life for once?”

She didn’t respond to your rhetorical question though, because the opening bell was ringing and the boxers began dancing around the ring faster than you could process, administering and dodging blows so fluidly it almost looked choreographed. You noticed how Choso protected his face the majority of the match, ducking and dodging far more than actually swinging. When he did swing though, he swung hard. You wondered with your limited knowledge of the sport if his strategy was just tiring his opponent out. 

A few minutes in, you found yourself flinching back with each punch that was thrown his way, but Geto rarely landed one on his opponent. 

“I knew you’d go gaga for this!” Shoko shouted with a delighted laugh. “You love the dangerous ones!” 

“Shut up!” You grumbled back at her, chewing at the side of your thumb anxiously as the two grew closer to the side of the ring you and Shoko were stationed at. 

Of course, they likely knew what they were doing, but you couldn’t help but think of worst case scenario where these two two-hundred plus pound fighters toppled over the ring and onto your unsuspecting and unprepared body. You abruptly stood from your seat as Geto was cornered against the ring, his back facing you just a mere couple feet away. 

From up close as Choso was landing calculated blows on his trapped opponent, you were able to see that subtle pout in his lips that contrasted against the big and scary vibe every other part of him emanated. The mark across his nose scrunched up in sheer focus, stray bangs from his haphazard bun falling across his forehead. 

It only took a second, your abrupt movement shifting in his peripheral. His dark eyes drifted up just over Geto’s shoulder and met yours. The gloved fists that had been raised and shielding his face for nearly the entire match slowly faltered, drifting down in hopes of getting a better look at your wide eyed expression. 

Those glossy eyes were locked on him, and perhaps he was too awestruck to note that— yeah, everyone was looking at him right now— because it truly did feel as though you were the only one in the room for even just a moment. The whiplash hit him straight in the ribs harder than any opponent could land, knocking the air from his lungs as he watched your face morph in horror. It was just milliseconds following the abrupt change that Geto’s glove was hitting him smack-dab in the center of his face. 

You yelled out in surprise as Choso was instantly knocked back, falling onto the unforgiving ground below him while the arena erupted in hollers, because shit, everyone had bet on him. Even Suguru looked taken aback by how quickly his opponent dropped, because he’d fought with him before and definitely knew that he usually kept his stance stiff enough so that blows like that didn’t take him down so easily— and they certainly never kept him down.

The referee had knelt down beside him to count him down, but you were more concerned by the way blood had begun to trickle out of his nose and even the corner of his mouth. His eyes were barely open, squinting blearily at the blinding lights above him. 

“He’s gonna aspirate if they don’t move him off his back.” You shouted desperately at Shoko, clutching anxiously onto her elbow. 

“They have to count him down— rules are rules.” She stated absentmindedly, getting on her tiptoes to get a better look. “You’re off the clock.”

Ten seconds. He could get through it, you tried to convince yourself as you bounced on your heels. Time was moving too slow though, and you watched in dread as his chest heaved with a cough, the blood that had gathered in his mouth sputtering up to paint his chin and cheeks. 

“They’re gonna kill him.” Your frantic declaration had barely processed in your friend's mind before you were hopping through the ropes and hoisting yourself into the ring. She was yelling out to you, and one of the boxer’s cornermen shot forward to stop you, but you had already slid onto your knees beside the referee, who was also trying to push you back. “He’s choking on his blood!” 

They paused at your sudden, furied response, too startled to do anything as you grabbed his shoulder and mustered all your strength to roll him onto his side. Finally on his side, you reached over to pull the guard from his mouth. At once, Choso began sputtering up and coughing, coating the floor with the blood that he had been drowning in.

As he continued clearing his airway, your fingers carefully dug into the back of his head, threading through his hair to check for blood. With the sudden movements, he was slowly beginning to come to, though all he could hear through the ringing in his ears was the muffled uproar from the crowd. Blinking back his delirium, he lazily shifted onto his back once again, eyes drifting back shut.

“No, no, no— sit up for me.” Your voice instructed him through the haze of his attempted slumber. 

Even Geto had shed his gloves and was kneeling down to help you get him upright. 

“I didn’t even hit him that hard.” He explained in bafflement, the most subtle layer of guilt twinging his tone. “It’s like he completely ragdolled for a second.”

It took all the energy Choso had remaining to blink up at you. The sight of you— the same girl who had thrown him out of his zone for likely the first time ever in his career— his consciousness seemed to come flooding back to him. Sitting up quickly with your’s and Geto’s urging hands under his back, he looked around frantically in an attempt to grasp what had happened. 

“Do you feel nauseous?” You asked him as he watched your lips form in a frenzy around the words. 

Blood was beginning to pour from his quickly bruising nose into his lips, and the thus far useless cornermen bounded over with a small towel. Bunching it up, you carefully placed it onto his nose before tilting his head forward to allow it to flow out. 

“I-I don’t—” Choso was stammering, as was so very common for him, but never in the ring, and he was coming to the mortifying revelation that the insanely gorgeous girl just watched him get the lights knocked out of him with a single blow. 

Your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of his words. You moved the towel aside to hear him better. 

“I don’t usually, uh—” He gulped, face flushing embarrassingly dark for someone who was on the brink of a possible concussion. You tilted your head at him. “Y’know, lose that easy— hah.” 

His attempted nonchalant laughter sounded more like a nervous sigh, but his slurred explanation had an amused smile curling through the concerned pout of your lips. He found himself smiling along with you, blood coating his teeth. 

“So I’ve heard, hot-shot.” You quipped with a shake of your head, pressing the towel back into his nose just as the medic finally hopped into the ring. Your eyes remained on his dopey expression as you tilted your head to the side to address them in a hushed tone. “Check him for a concussion, he’s looking crazy.”

Choso did not, in fact, have a concussion. At least that’s what the medic deduced in the back after having assessed him. Given that there, for some god forsaken reason, only seemed to be one medic present, you aided in transporting him to the back where you stuck around for support. Shoko was rolling her eyes in exasperation, mumbling something incoherent about your never taking a day off. She was however thoroughly entertained by the notion that the Choso Kamo got knocked onto his ass for the first time solely because he got a glimpse of you. Despite the evidence that was pointing there, you vehemently continued to disagree with her on what caused his little hiccup in the ring. 

The medic was packing his things up as you were not-so-subtly re-checking his pupil reactions, because you seriously were questioning the credentials of the supposed medical professional that was about to let the man aspirate right in the ring. Choso didn’t question your insistence on double-checking, his wide, chocolate eyes following your pen light obediently— any excuse to be at the center of your attention for a little longer, right?

“So you’re, um—” His gaze fluttered as you clicked the light off before switching it to your other hand and turning it back on. “You’re a doctor?” 

You smiled fondly and shook your head. 

“An ER nurse— my friend over there’s a doctor though.” You explained, nodding your head back to where Shoko was speaking to Geto. She shouted something about being off the clock before continuing her conversation. 

Choso hummed, blinking away the spots in his eyes left behind by the light. Upon closer inspection, you noted that the mark running jaggedly across his nose and cheeks was a scar, and not an oddly placed tattoo as you had assumed when first seeing it. If he noticed you staring, he made no indication of it— not with the puppy-dog like gaze he still had on you, a small smile on his blood-stained lips. 

His attention was pulled away from you as a ping rang from his dufflebag. Tearing his eyes from yours, he quickly fumbled through his clothes before procuring his cellphone. In a last-ditch effort to make it seem like you weren’t just staring at the man, you busied yourself with cleaning up the blood-soaked towels and tissues that had begun surrounding him. 

“Is everything okay?” Choso had barely glanced at the screen before quickly taking the call. “He’s still not asleep?”

You watched his brows furrow from your peripheral, and you desperately tried to mind your own business. In the louder corners of your mind though, Shoko’s words rang in your mind about his having a child. Despite only having spoken a few words to him, you just couldn’t see how this young, gentle-giant of a man was a father. 

“Yeah,” His voice had become lighter suddenly, an amused smile painting his face so affectionately it damn near gave you baby fever. “Tell him I’m fine— I should be home in a little bit.”

You quickly averted your sidelong glance once he hung up the phone, moving to wash your blood stained hands in the dingy sink that sat in the corner. From the mirror, you could see him digging through his bag to grab a shirt. 

“Sorry— my babysitter called.” He explained as he tugged a baggy, graphic tee over his head. As if it took him a moment to realize how that sounded, his frantic face was quickly popping out the neck of the shirt to clarify. “I take care of my little brother, I mean. I’m not um— y’know, his… dad.”

With a soft hum of acknowledgement, you could have cursed yourself for the subtle excitement brewing in your stomach at the fact that this man was likely single—  and he wanted you to know it, too. Reaching down to grab your bag from the bench, you slung it over your shoulder.  Jumping into action, Choso was quickly picking up his own bag to walk beside you. 

“Big brother’s a boxer, huh? He must think you’re a god.” 

“Oh, he doesn’t know, actually.” He corrected with a subtle flush, his hand fiddling with the strap of his bag. Noting the way your brows rose in surprise, he offered a meek smile. “I just don’t want him getting caught up in all this.”

“And how does he suppose you get all those bruises then?” You teased, but you were quickly putting two and two together that keeping his job a secret from his little brother was likely the reason for his oddly calculated boxing approach. He never seemed to make risky moves, always preferring to protect himself above all else and only striking when he was sure to land it. 

Suddenly, a bashful expression overtook his face, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly as his eyes darted away from you. It was undeniably endearing to see such a tall and muscular man so easily flustered, especially considering how solemnly terrifying he appeared in the ring. 

“Well, he…” He scratched at his head before huffing out a chuckle. “He kind of thinks I’m Batman.”

A choked laugh attempted to hide itself within your throat, but it, of course, failed miserably. Choso turned away from you in hopes that you wouldn’t see the maroon color that painted his neck and cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. That’s just really cute.” You explained through uncontrolled giggles, not missing the way Shoko rose a knowing brow at you as the two of you drew closer. “Well, uh… good luck with that bruise then, Batman.”

“Y-You should let me grab you dinner— y’know to… thank you for not letting me choke.” You turned as Choso chuckled nervously, the hand you had placed on your friend’s arm to head out with her falling. 

 Your gaze fluttered as you looked back at his hopeful expression, but all you could think about was the fact that you’d just broken up with your boyfriend just a week prior because he was no good for you. Staring back at the crusted blood at the corner of his mouth, along with the way his nose was blossoming with a vibrant black and blue hue, you shook your head with an apologetic smile. 

“I’ve got a shift in the morning.” You explained, having to turn away lest your heart break at the way his face seemed to fall ever-so-slightly. “But I hope you feel better!”

As you and Shoko left, she was whisper-shouting over her shoulder an apology to him about your only liking assholes with a feigned subtlety. It was the subdued goodnight that he still called out to you even in the midst of his rejection that had you staring up at your ceiling that night wondering if you’d always be hard-wired to make things difficult for yourself. 

You wished you had had the opportunity to forget about the interaction altogether the following morning at the start of your shift. Typically, working in the ER meant fast-paced, constantly needing to be on edge, and certainly not having the time to think about anything else other than what might be walking through those doors at any moment. As fate would have it though, today was one of the rare instances that your shift was absolutely dragging. 

It was already nearly a quarter of the way into your shift, and all you had triaged so far was an elderly woman with a mild cough, a kid trying to get out of his school’s testing day with a feigned stomach ache, and a hungover college student in desperate need of IV fluids. Needless to say, you were beginning to grow restless. 

You were a mere ten minutes away from throwing in the towel and taking your lunch break early, a luxury you were almost never privileged to, when your pager pinged alerting a new patient. Sitting up with a start, you quickly clicked at your computer to wake it up and check the chart. 

Possible head injury; rule out TBI

Maybe if you hadn’t been so eager to just get up and do something, you would have read into their chart more. For now though, you were avidly collecting your things to check in the first patient you’ve had in the last two hours. Lugging the vitals machine behind you, you offered a soft knock on the wall as you glanced over the chart one more time and slid the curtain open. Your mouth popped open as your eyes finally landed on the name. 

“Choso?” You muttered under your breath, brows furrowing as you looked up from the chart to see the very man you suspected perched upon the sterile bed. 

He almost looked surprised to see you at first, those dewey eyes of his widening ever-so-slightly at the sight of you before a smile spread across his lips. Upon first glance, he looked to be the picture of health (save for the now diabolical bruise spread across the center of his face), smiling and bright eyed with no visible reason for why he’d be complaining of a head injury. As if noting the way your eyes began to narrow doubtfully at him, he quickly attempted to wipe the smile from his face. 

“Um— I was… I was starting to feel symptoms of a concussion.” The burly man stammered out as though rehearsed. 

Barely able to bite back your own amused grin, you tucked the chart under your arm before leaning against the wall expectantly. You made a go on motion with a wave of your hand, but Choso hadn’t expected to be so distracted by the sight of you in your scrubs. Rolling his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, he gulped nervously. 

“Y’know, like a… headache a-and uh…” An anxious smile graced his face as you raised a skeptical brow at him. He couldn’t help it though— not with the way your jogger-style scrub bottoms hugged at your curves so tantalizingly, and you looked so cute with your stethoscope hanging around your neck, the one that would surely catch the way his traitorous heart was racing against his rib cage. 

“How did you know which hospital I worked at, Choso?” You finally interrogated once he’d been stammering a little too long to come up with other relevant symptoms. 

He cast his eyes to the side as you moved to pull the sleeve of his t-shirt up to wrap the blood pressure cuff around his bulging bicep. Though you had already deduced that he was likely fine, he had still been registered as a patient, and now you needed to go through the typical procedures. You wondered if he was even aware of how attractive he was, because the way he remained oblivious to the manner in which you ran a hand unnecessarily down his arm on your way to the pump told you that he had no clue.

“Lucky guess.” He tried to come off as cool, hoping you wouldn’t see through the fact that this was the third emergency room he’d been to today. It wouldn’t let him rest though— the memory of you hovering above him as he came to, the thought that you had jumped into a boxing ring for a stranger and essentially saved his life. “You didn’t let me thank you yesterday. You saved my life.”

“Don’t you have a kid to be taking care of?” You quipped teasingly, a bit flustered at his gratitude as you undid the cuff from his arm. This time around, he did notice the way you rubbed soothingly at the mark left behind by the cuff, and whether conscious or not, he found himself flexing his arm ever-so-slightly just for you.

“Yuji? He’s at school.” Choso explained dismissively before quickly veering back on topic. “I wanted to make sure you were coming to the rematch, but I didn’t have your number.”

He opened his mouth obediently as you nudged the thermometer against his lips, lifting his tongue for you to rest it underneath. The way his pretty, pink lips wrapped around the thermometer made your breath hitch, and you forced yourself to tear your eyes from his as they bore intently into you. You hummed once it beeped, shedding the sterile cover into the bin by the bed. 

“Rematch, huh?” He nodded, fervent eyes following each of your movements as you turned to confirm his vitals into the machine before turning back to face him once again. “I hate to disappoint, but I’m not actually into boxing.”

“You were front row at the match last night.” He rationalized, and his shoulders were slowly falling in disappointment. After a moment, he shook his head before continuing his pursuit. “Then let me take you to dinner at least.”

“Listen, I’m just not really—”

Your excuse was cut off when, after barely a moment of contemplation, Choso grabbed the chart from your hand and tossed it to the floor. A few owlish blinks were sent his way.   

“Your friend said you like assholes.” The man explained simply, but it was clearly eating him alive, evident in the way his determined eyes darted between you and the clipboard that had just got done clattering on the floor. A couple, painfully silent seconds passed before he kissed his teeth quietly, sliding off the bed to pick it back up for you anyway.

Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for your sanity, that little failed stunt worked on you, and Choso bounded out of the ER that afternoon with your contact in his phone. Still, you made it clear to him that you’d reach out to him when you were ready. He nodded along intently as you explained that you had only just gotten out of a relationship, and you didn’t exactly feel that you trusted your ability to pick a man right now. 

It didn’t matter to him though, because you had saved his number under Batman on your phone, and he had never been so proud of the silly persona his baby brother had assigned to him. So, he assured you not to worry, that there was no rush, and that he owed you a dinner whenever it was that you felt like having him.  Sure, the next few days may have been spent glued to his phone in hopes that you’d get over your idiot of an ex-boyfriend sooner rather than later, but he could be patient, right?

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that he began to worry that perhaps you had only taken his number with the hopes that he’d leave you alone. Perhaps you were just letting him down easy. After all, he had shown up to your job after already having gotten a no from you. Choso had never been great with women​​— he’d never had the opportunity to, what with his taking over care for Yuji so early on into what were supposed to be his prime bachelor days. 

Up until now though, it didn’t matter that he hadn’t had the chance to grow out of his awkward, teenage boy cadence, he’d never thought much of it. Sure, he was a man, and he had needs too, but there were always more important things to worry about— like putting food on the table and keeping a roof over the head of his baby brother. His job certainly didn’t require him to be a smooth talker, or a talker at all for that matter. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t read the body language or social cues that women threw at him— not until it was you that he couldn’t get a read on. 

What he didn’t know was that you had spent the month waging war on yourself. The battle consisted of the you that wanted to remain in the familiar arms of men who your commitment fearing heart was sure to see no future with and the you that wondered if taking the hot, kind-eyed boxer’s offer of taking you to dinner and treating you like an adult human being was such a bad thing. 

The decision was proving to be more difficult than you could have ever anticipated, because it was as if your man-child of an ex-boyfriend could smell that you were contemplating doing better for yourself once, and he had been texting you for weeks now. There were apologies, paragraphs sent about how your constant arguments only meant that you two were passionate about one another— ones that had you rolling your eyes while simultaneously thinking that this was the safe option. 

You had come to a fork in the road though, as you stared down at his text asking if you’d meet him at the place you two met— some dingy arcade where you always had to hold your breath in because it seemed none of the men in attendance knew what soap or deodorant were. It was the same place where you remember finding it charming how heated he’d get over losing a game— it was quirky and hot and you couldn’t possibly see how that short-temper might pose a challenge to your relationship. 

Chewing on your bottom lip, your thumbs hovered over the cracked screen that had lain witness to just how un-charming that temper could get. Glancing up at your carefully placed makeup in the mirror, you realized that you had missed getting all done up— missed going out instead of sulking in your apartment and contemplating where your abysmal attachment style could have possibly manifested from. With a shake of your head, you decided that you had put far too much effort into yourself to end up in that cesspool of a joint by the end of the night. 

The cool wind nipped at your cheeks as you tried to borrow yourself deeper into the collar of your coat. You thought that perhaps you should have just waited in the car, but, then again, you weren’t exactly familiar with the protocol for proper dates. The dim lighting offered by the awning outside of the quietly buzzing restaurant cast a soft glow onto the wooden bench you were sitting on as you anxiously peered at the parking lot. 

Just as you were on the brink of losing a toe to hyperthermia, an older looking, black cat peeled into the parking lot, barely coming to a stop before the driver’s door was swinging open. Choso’s frantic gaze caught yours almost instantly, and he almost appeared relieved that you hadn’t left.

“I’m so sorry, I know I’m late.” He babbled, shutting his door firmly before glancing into the back of his car. “Look, I um… I understand if you’re not cool with this, but my babysitter canceled on me last minute.”

In the midst of his hesitant explanation, he was tugging the backseat open, offering you one last apprehensive glance before ducking his head in. When he emerged once again, it was with a pink-haired, bright-eyed toddler in his arms. You stood up as Choso walked your way, whispering something that, by the look of the softly stern expression on his face, looked to be a warning to behave to his little brother before setting him down.

“I’m really sorry about this. If you want to go I—”

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me to my date, Choso?” Your mockingly stern tone halted his mortified rambling. 

The boy, barely reaching his brother’s mid-thigh, was looking up at you with that fiercely curious expression that only a toddler assessing your danger level could pull off. His small, gloved hand was clutching onto Choso’s pointer and middle finger as the fake fur on his tiger beanie swayed with the gust of wind that whipped his way. 

It certainly wasn’t how you had expected to spend your night off, but something about that exasperated guilt in Choso’s tone made your heart clench. All these years you had spent worrying about which douchebag you’d be picking yourself back up over, and this man, who couldn’t have been much older than you at all, had never had that stupid privilege. Such a miniscule act as not raising a fuss over his bringing his baby brother to dinner with him had him staring at you as though you’d hung the stars in the sky, and you suddenly decided that you had made the right decision that night. 

A small, delighted smile tugged at his lips, and he quickly looked down to nudge the boy forward.

“This is Yuji, and he promised he was going to be on his best behavior for our friend tonight, right?” Choso urged with a subtle desperation hidden in his eyes. Your heart nearly melted as he nodded ardently with a soft sneeze.

“Niichan never has girl friends—” 

“Okay, Yuji! Why don’t you show her how you open the door like a gentleman?” He eagerly cut off his brother’s innocent confession with a rapidly flushing face, scooping him up so that he could reach the handle. You offered a knowing, sidelong glance at the flustered man, unable to bite back your tickled smile as you nodded to Yuji in thanks as he held the door open for you with a prideful beam.

Choso had just about jumped out of his skin when your name randomly popped onto his phone. He must have re-read your text twenty times to assure he was understanding correctly, because the girl who had been radio silent for nearly a month was asking if tonight was a good night for her to cash in on the dinner he owed her. 

Truthfully, it wasn’t a good night. He had been expecting to stay home with Yuji tonight given he didn’t have a match, and his brother didn’t have school the next morning. Because of that, he really didn’t have anyone lined up to babysit tonight. He frantically called his usual babysitter, practically begging her to come on such short notice, and he nearly did a backflip when she agreed. 

Yuji was following him around the house with that lighthearted laugh, the kind that made Choso think that maybe he wasn’t doing such a bad job at taking care of him after all, asking him why he was practically bouncing around the house as he rushed to shower and dug recklessly through his closet for something decent to wear. 

It had all come crashing down on him just ten minutes before he was supposed to leave, already having explained to his little brother that his babysitter would be coming tonight, when the woman in question called to let him know that her shift at her full-time job had gone over schedule. He sat hunched over his phone on the couch for what seemed like eternity as he contemplated what to do.

It had taken you an entire month to finally agree to a date with him. Would you change your mind if he canceled on you with such short notice? Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he noted that he was already going to be late, and the thought of leaving you waiting for him at the restaurant had him making the executive decision to bundle his little brother up in his winter clothes and pack him in the car with him. 

Halfway to the restaurant was when it hit him that perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, but it was too late now. He wasn’t sure anything could have prepared him for how quickly you’d let it slide off your shoulders, and certainly not for how easily you’d work Yuji into what was meant to be a date with just you two. 

Here he was though, lips parted stupidly as he watched you allow the boy to steal bites off of your plate (despite how many times he’d already swatted his hand away in mortification) and follow along with all the longwinded stories that toddlers were so good at telling with no real conclusion in sight. It seemed impossible for him to have found you anymore beautiful than he already did, but you were proving him wrong with every affectionate smile sent his way each time Yuji would innocently reveal another humiliating detail about his older brother to you.

“If I had known he was going to woo you so hard I would have left him in the car.” Choso joked with a timid smile, already having had his fill of embarrassment for one night following Yuji’s announcement that he cried everytime he watched Brother Bear with him.

You thought having the five-year-old around helped lessen what typically would have been a painfully awkward first date. Additionally, the seemingly tight-knit relationship they had made you wonder how Choso had found himself with such a responsibility so young in the first place. Of course, with Yuji around, it was hard to veer onto the topic. 

“And how else would I have found out so much about the big, bad Choso Kamo?” You teased as Yuji busied himself with a coloring page the waitress had brought over (much to his brother’s relief). “Brother Bear, huh? Can’t blame you, that one used to get me too.”

“I don’t cry everytime.” 

“Mhmm,” With an unconvinced hum, you peered up at him through the rim of your cup as you took a sip. “So, what turned you into a bear then, hm?”

The fond smile on his face slowly dissipated, leading you to believe that what you thought was a harmlessly joking question held more depth than you gave it credit for. Soon, your smile was quickly falling too as you sat up a little straighter.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” He reassured, attempting to bring that same lighthearted nature back around, but his eyes were heavier as he regarded you kindly. “I just… had to be.”

It was the only explanation he offered you, and somehow it was enough for you to understand the gravity of whatever their situation must have been— at least for now.

“So,” Your gaze fluttered about his chiseled face as you tried to rectify the now solemn energy at the table. Glancing toward Yuji, you noted that he was still concentrated on his coloring, a crayon clutched in one hand and a fry in the other. Still, you lowered your voice a bit as you leaned in closer to Choso. “How did your rematch go?”

“Thought you said you weren’t into it.” 

“Didn’t say I wasn’t into you.”

This caught him off guard, whatever fleeting confidence he had to banter back and forth with you flying out the window just as your own words processed back to you. For a fleeting moment, you almost allowed yourself to be embarrassed by your own forwardness. Something about how easily he could be rendered speechless made it worth it though. After a moment, his lips twitched up nervously as he tried to reign in control of the conversation once again. 

“Thought you liked assholes.” Choso whispered, praying his little brother wasn’t going to absorb that word into his subconscious to spring on him later. 

Pursing your lips, you looked down at the cracked phone screen that had pulled you out of your stupor just hours prior. The man followed your eyes, taking note of the way you ran your finger absentmindedly down the shattered glass. You didn’t say anything, but he seemed to have heard it all, his face falling in quiet recognition. He had seen it before— that look of silent defeat in your eyes fighting against a cycle all too familiar to him.

“The rematch was good.” He offered with a soft, knowing smile, hoping to pull you from wherever your thoughts had wandered to. You peered back up at him. “Kicked his ass. I can be an asshole too— just… not to you, yeah?”

Choso couldn’t have known how deep his words burrowed themselves into your mind, replaying on repeat that entire drive home as your heart pounded against your chest. He had walked you to your car after dinner, Yuji clinging onto his back as he drifted off into what looked to be a nasty food coma. The look on his face said that he wasn’t sure what to do next, but you could certainly guess what was on his mind. 

So, you were grateful when his little brother stirred away and tugged at his hair, pouting about it being too cold and wanting to go home. The man’s shoulder’s deflated ever-so-slightly, and he offered an apologetic smile and a promise that he’d text you.

You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. 

Choso Kamo scared you unlike any other raging hot-head had ever managed to in the past. At least with your past… distasteful selections, you could predict their moves, you knew it would only go so far. With him though, you could feel yourself wanting more, because he was sweet and genuine, and he was the type of guy that would make a nest in your heart so as not to disturb your peace rather than shatter it with an attempt to mold it to accommodate the jagged edges he refused to file down.

Without the expected downfalls of the disasters you set yourself up for, how could you prepare yourself if he disappointed you in a way you hadn’t already premeditated? Other men filtered in and out of your life, never leaving an impact heavier than a break of routine in their wake— but Choso? If you allowed him to stay, you knew it would ache in ways you’d never known if Choso left. 

Despite your fear of falling, you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore him when he texted you later that night asking if you'd made it home, or even the next morning when he wished you a good shift. With each affectionate-smiled reply, you could feel your stomach twisting in fear as you hoped you’d snap out of this haze before the shoe dropped. 

It was the very reason that you hesitated when your phone rang just two days later, his name lighting up your phone at an hour far too late at night to be considered friendly. Blinking back the tired haze in your eyes from staring at your television for too long, you felt that familiar anxiety swimming in your throat. Your thumb trembled nervously as it hovered over the button to accept the call. Shaking off your nerves, you swiped to answer the call. 

“Hey, Cho—”

“Hello?” His voice was panicked on the other line, making you sit up from where you had been vegetating on your couch. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know it’s late— I need your help.”

Muffled in the background, you could hear the distinct wailing of a child you assumed to be his little brother. The sound made you kick the blanket off your lap, already breaking out into a nervous cold-sweat. 

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Yuji— he’s sick, and his fever won’t go down, and he’s not keeping down any of his medicine, and—”

“Okay, calm down.” You cut off his nervous rambling as you shoved your boots on under your fleece pajama pants. “How high is his fever? You should take him to urgent care.”

“I’m trying, h-he has a thing with hospitals.” The man sounded as though he was on the brink of tears, panting subtly in a manner that had you wondering how long he had been wrestling with the boy in order to get him to an urgent care before he gave up and called you. “Please, I don’t know what to do.”

Choso could barely hear your knocking over his brother’s incessant crying, and had he been more alert of his surroundings he would have wondered how in the hell his neighbors hadn’t sent in a noise complaint yet. After nearly a minute with no response, you knocked again, more forcefully this time. 

When he finally opened the door, you would have assumed that he was the one battling a flu— what with his flushed face, disheveled locks, and red waterline. Having to endure his brother’s suffering alone was killing him, and he’d never felt more useless than he did tonight. 

“Choso…” You sighed regretfully, nearly reaching up to pull him into a hug, but he was quickly latching onto your wrist to pull you into the living room where Yuji was bundled up on the couch, his little face flaming with a mix of the exertion from his pained wails and the fever that was still ravaging his system. 

Kneeling down beside the couch, you touched your hand against his forehead. Even with the frigidness that still nipped at your hands from the chill outside, it was clear that he was practically scorching.

“He’s burning up, Choso.” You muttered frantically, making quick work to pull the countless blankets off of him. He was kicking out in protest with each layer you removed, and his brother was quickly moving to push his legs down lest you get kicked in the face. “You need to cool him down.”

“He— he kept shivering…” The man was gulping down tears of frustration, because all he was trying to do was to get him to stop crying. It was breaking his heart with each octave he reached, and he was sure that he’d find a way to make the sun rise early if it meant he could have stopped whatever it was that was making Yuji so uncomfortable. 

“It’s okay,” You reassured, taking note of the fragile emotional state this situation had put him in. It was becoming clearer by the minute that Choso was new to doing this on his own. “We need to put him in a cold bath.”

The man nodded in a haze, reaching down to scoop the flailing boy into his arms as he cried out in protest. You followed closely behind him as he made his way to the bathroom and flipped the light on. 

“I’m cold!” Yuji choked out, only making his brother feel that much more guilty as he pried his clothes off of him. You stepped around him to fill the tub with cool water. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Choso mumbled despondently, dodging each of his kicks with stunning precision. “We’re trying to help you, buddy, okay?”

“What have you given him?” You questioned, finally shedding your puffer jacket you began to sweat with the frantic movements. 

“Nothing, he’s spitting everything out.” Choso’s voice raised in exasperation, though you knew better than to think it was directed at you. 

You paced out the restroom as he lowered Yuji into the frigid water, and you thought surely his throat would start to bleed soon from the way his screams were scratching it raw. It didn’t take long for you to find the medicine cabinet after rummaging through the kitchen, and you made quick work to toss a fever reducer into a plastic bag to begin crushing it. Peeking your head into the refrigerator, you grabbed the carton of apple juice that was sitting on the shelf. Once your child-proof cocktail was thoroughly mixed, you made your way back down the hall.

“Please, Yuji, just sit still.” You heard Choso pleading desperately, followed by the frantic splashes of the attempted escapee. 

“Let me go!”

“It’ll make you feel better—”

“I want Mom!” 

You paused in the doorway at Yuji’s sobbed request, unsure whether or not to intrude. Clutching the cup to your constricting chest, you leaned against the wall just beside the bathroom door as you heard Choso sigh despairingly.

“Mom’s not here, Yuji. We’ve talked about this, please. Don’t do this to me.” His tone wavered notably, and it was clear that the dam holding up the strongest parts of him was weakening by the second, but his younger brother only repeated his request. 

“Yuji,” You called out, finally stepping in to kneel beside Choso. He quickly cast his gaze down, but not before you caught the tears slipping down his face. Brushing back the pink hair that clung to the boy’s forehead as he panted up at you through choked cries, you showed him the cup. “Look, if you drink all your juice then we’ll get your bed nice and ready for you, okay?” 

He sniffled messily as his blubbering slowed, eyeing you skeptically. 

“It’s apple juice, see?” You tilted the cup closer toward him so he could see the familiar yellow color. Noting his apprehension, you leaned in closer to whisper to him in feigned secrecy. “Niichan can’t protect the city if you don’t get better.”

Through dewy hiccups, he slowly released the grip his little hands had on Choso’s wrists to take the cup from you. Beside you, his brother heaved out a sigh of relief watching as he quickly downed the cup, eager to get into his bed and under the covers as promised. The both of you held your breaths until the last drop was sucked up. 

After running a few more handfuls of cold water over his head for good measure, you nodded at Choso to take him out once his skin was finally a bit cooler to the touch. As he dried and dressed his brother back up to prepare him for bed, you busied yourself with cleaning up the puddles of water Yuji’s thrashing had created on the floor of the bathroom. A good couple of minutes had passed before apprehensive footsteps finally made their way back to the bathroom where you remained kneeled on the floor. 

“I’m sorry.” Choso whispered, slowly lowering himself down beside you. 

You peered over at him as he buried his head into his hands. The t-shirt he wore was clinging to his chest as it still dripped with leftover bath water along with the ends of his loose, tousled hair. His shoulders shook every so often with the sniffles he was trying so desperately to conceal, but it had all been too much for him. 

“I know the last thing you wanted to be doing on your day off was working.” He continued as he finally looked up at you, tears of frustration swimming in his dark, tired eyes. “I just— I didn’t know—”

“Choso?” You whispered, resting a careful hand on his raised knee. He blinked at you in question, swiping furiously at the tear that raced down his flushed cheek at the motion. “How… how did you end up with Yuji?”

His eyes quickly fell, observing the way his knuckles whitened as he clenched and unclenched his hands pensively. 

“He’s my half-brother.” He began quietly. A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he looked back up at you. “Wanna talk assholes? My step-dad— Yuji’s dad— was just…”

You gulped, watching the way his jaw seemed to clench unconsciously at the memory of him. A gradual sense of dread twisted in your stomach as you began to guess where his story would go. 

“We fought all the time. Our mom hated it, but I couldn’t stand the way he treated her, and it—” Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the ceiling to calm the way his tears seemed to continue to betray him. “It killed me that she let him.”

Your gaze fluttered with their own misty haze as his words sunk in, an unnecessary guilt clawing at your chest. Shuddering away the tremble in his tone, he finally looked back down at you. Swiping at his nose with a quick sniffle, he continued. 

“We got into a huge fight a while after I finished school. He was mad about— god, I can’t even remember what had him so heated, but h-he threw a bottle at our mom.”

“Choso…” You sighed shakily, shifting forward to grasp at his hand. Though he made no attempt to halt his story, he accepted your hand, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly as another tear raced down his face. 

“I told him that if he wanted to throw shit to throw it at me.” With red-splotched eyes, he offered a humorless laugh and gestured toward the jagged scar that ran across his face. It was now you who was failing to hold back stinging tears. “I thought after— I don’t know, twenty stitches that she’d leave, but she didn’t. So, I did.”

His head dropped down toward his chest, shaking side to side regretfully. 

“I left. I wasn’t there for her when she died— I wasn’t there for Yuji.” You quickly climbed over to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his face into your chest as you allowed yourself to cry silently along with him. “I left him. He was only three. I left him, I—”

“You came back for him, Choso.” You quickly interjected. 

“I should’ve never left in the first place.” His fingers drifted up to dig into your back as you settled onto his lap. “I thought if I learned how to fight— y’know, got bigger and stronger that he couldn’t hurt me anymore, he couldn’t hurt my mom anymore cause I would finally be able to do something about it, but I was just scared. I was scared, and I left.”

“You were just a kid.” You clarified, sliding your hands down to grip his face and force him to look at you. “And you’re here now.”

The grip you had on his cheeks forced his lips into a smushed pout, his wet lashes emphasizing the dark circles that surrounded his irises. Your thumb grazed gently over the scar on his face, and it broke your heart even more as you pictured it on a smaller, more defenseless version of him. You could see that Choso still ever-present in the fear that lingered in his eyes, in the doubt that clung to his frown that told him that nothing he could do for Yuji would ever be enough. 

“And I’d like to see someone try to lay a finger on Yuji now.” You encouraged with a soft laugh. The tiniest of smiles cracked through his solemn gaze, but he was still searching your eyes with an intensity that nearly knocked you on your ass. 

“Why do you do it?” He questioned, his voice barely above a whisper. You tilted your head at him curiously. “I mean, you have a good job, you’re smart, and pretty, and you’re kind— why give it to people who don’t deserve you?”

His hands dug firmly into your waist as you attempted to lean away from his raw stare. You felt naked— humiliatingly exposed as though you had just been the one to air your dirty laundry out. The hands on your sides drew you in closer and closer with each pathetic open and close of your stammering lips.

“I think I came to terms a long time ago with the fact that I’d never get to understand why my mom stayed. I had to be okay with it.” Choso’s brows were furrowing as his gaze drifted down your face before meeting yours once again. “Then I met you, and… I feel that same frustration I felt when I was a teenager.” 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The scarred bridge of his nose grazed against yours as the two of you drew closer. With a strained gulp, you shook your head. “Do you—” He paused as his face flushed, but he fought to push past his timid nature. “Do you want someone to be mean to you? Is that what it is?”

“Choso—”

“Because if that’s the case then let it be me, okay?” His plea had you biting back a wanton whine, because his lips were brushing against yours with all the anticipation of a building promise. Your fingers tangled into the drying hair on his nape. “I’ll be rough with you, and I’ll make you want to cry.”

Leaning forward, he slotted his mouth around your pouted bottom lip, pressing you closer against him as you two pulled at one another despairingly. 

“I’ll be an asshole, but I’ll never hurt you— it’ll always be for you. Is that what you want?”

You could only nod hazily, too lost in the desperation in his tone and the craving he’d instilled in you for the lips you’d only come to know just minutes prior. Without so much as a grunt of effort, he was lifting himself off the ground with you in tow, stumbling toward the hallway in a craven pursuit of his bedroom. The hand holding you up against him squeezed vigorously at your ass, pinching at it until you yelped out into his lips.

“Shh, Yuji’s sleeping.” He still had the nerve to chastise you lowly, using your back to press the door shut. 

With you squeezed between him and the door behind you, he allowed his hand to dance up and grip your jaw, hooking his thumb into the corner of it as his forefinger dug into your bottom lip and pried your mouth ajar. You panted against him, eyes half-lidded as you awaited his next move with baited breath, but as he’d promised, it felt as though he wanted you to cry for him, his lips exploring your neck and jaw at an agonizing pace.

“Choso—” Your plea was cut short by your gasp as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder that had been left exposed in the flimsy tank you had been wearing to bed prior to his call. He moaned against your skin, digging his canines ever-so-slightly deeper into the flesh to feel the way you jolted at the sting. “Ah— ahh!”

The man only hummed contentedly, arm hooking under your thighs once again to pry you from the wall and drop you onto the disheveled covers of his bed and pull the damp shirt from his back. He surveyed the way your eyes ran down his body, your reddened lips parted and your brows drawn softly together, and he deduced that he couldn’t possibly look at you if he was to ravage you like he hated you. 

Dipping down, he flipped you easily onto your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants. Pausing for a moment, he leaned down, and you shuddered at the feeling of his warm chest pressing you against the bed.

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered into your ear, knowing it would only take a shake of your head for his resolve to crumble. 

Your ribcage expanded and deflated beneath him in tandem with your anticipatory panting, and you could only nod through your flushed face, too embarrassed to confirm your desires aloud, yet your senses too lit ablaze by every inch of muscle you could feel on him to deny yourself the pleasure. There was a longing kiss pressed against your temple— an unspoken promise that he meant it when he said he wouldn’t hurt you— before he slowly pulled away from you to yank your bottoms down. 

Choso bit down on his bottom lip, rough enough to draw blood as he fought to maintain his composure. Running his hands up your thighs until they met the swell of your ass, he raised a knee to rest beside your hip before hiking your ass up. 

“Make me understand it.” He pleaded, a subtle growl laced into his tone as he drew teasingly close to where you were throbbing for him. 

“I don’t know, Choso—” Your voice had raised to an embarrassing pitch as you fisted his sheets between your fingers. They smelled just like him, and it was by no means aiding in your coherent thought process.

“Do you need someone to tell you you’re worth more?” At once, his fingers plunged into your incandescent center, twisting mercilessly as he continued to ration with you. “Because I’ll do it, I’ll remind you every fucking day if I have to.”

But his words were quickly becoming background noise that harmonized sweetly with each of your slack-jawed moans. Reaching back, your fingers barely grazed his wrist in an attempt to gain any semblance of control over his pace, but he quickly collected both your hands in his free one to pin them at the small of your back.

“Is that what you need?” He asked again, and his fingers curled up with a striking precision, drawing a pathetically pitched squeak from the depths of your throat. 

You buried your face into the sheets to conceal the way your eyes began to water at the growing warmth pooling overwhelmingly fast in your stomach. After a moment of your whimpering silence, his fingers abandoned you in favor of a resounding smack against your sensitive core. Your legs seemed to snap shut involuntarily, but it didn’t last long before he pried them open once again. 

“Answer me.” Choso demanded. His tone was barely stern— the fervent desperation to understand more present than anything. He threaded his fingers into your hair to pull your head to the side and reveal your face. “I said is this what you needed?”

“Yes!” You gasped, your hearing feeling as though it had increased tenfold as you listened to his sweatpants rusting while they hit the ground. “Please, please, Choso.” 

Despite his insistence that he’d be rough with you as you so pleased, he couldn’t bring himself to stop the gentle way in which he eased into you, savoring each hitch in your breath. Hooking his arm under your neck, he pulled you up to press flush against his perspiring chest, the slow descent up aiding in burying the last few inches of him into you. 

There was a crack in his resolve, evident in the broken moan that his lips pressed right against your flushed ear. The tears that he had promised you finally slipped down your cheeks. His eyes tracked it with a sharp vigilance, the sight making him pull you in that much closer. With a hand gentler than what he had planned for you, he swiped at the salty stream before allowing his fingers to settle around the column of your throat. 

“Keep crying for me.” 

And he made sure you did, his pace relentless as his sculpted hips slapped against your ass. For each overwhelmed tear of pleasure that escaped you, Choso chased it with a kiss; to your cheek and your jaw, to your helplessly parted lips and temple until there wasn’t an inch of you within his reach that his lips hadn’t become acquainted with. You thought your back would snap in two as you arched against him through your high, yet his furious pace didn’t slow until you slumped back against him, only held up by the hand at your throat and his will. 

The man watched as your head fell back onto his shoulders, eyes half-lidded as they stared at the way his gaze never seemed to falter. Only then did he pause, carefully lowering you to lay on your back against his cool pillows. Crawling over you, it was clear that his intent had shifted with the fulfillment of his goal. 

His hair tickled your cheeks as he leaned down to capture your lips tenderly. Reaching down, he caressed the side of your neck with the same hand he had used to restrain it as he entered you once again, this time with the intent of proving that it didn’t always have to be so merciless. With each purposeful roll of his hips into you he proved that you too were worthy of being handled with all the gentleness he had never been on the receiving end of. 

Choso clung onto you as he finished, and he didn’t leave when you allowed yourself to wrap your arms under his shoulders and press your cheek against his heaving chest. Instead, he pulled the covers up and assured they reached your shoulders that had since broken out into goosebumps— though you weren’t sure you could blame them on the cold. 

He brought your hands up to kiss the parts of your wrists that had been locked in his fierce grip. For the first time in years you weren’t itching to leave before he had the chance to leave you, because all the weight and muscle he’d worked so hard for in order to protect that scared, teenage boy in him were enveloping you with a crushing safety while his faint snores into your ear lulled you to sleep. 

Perhaps Yuji wasn’t so naive in believing his big brother was a superhero.

masterlist | requests | talk to me ❤︎

I love hearing everyone's thoughts! ◝⠀(ᵔᵕᵔ)⠀◜

[transformers-spike]

(Not a request)

I’ve been like honestly thinking, what would certain bots call their little human partners? Like I could imagine TFA megs being “my darling” but like at the same time I don’t. Just a random ramble I hope you could help me out here bc it’s been on my mind for a while🥲

I've been discussing this question with @drunkeninlovesailor this morning and we've brainstormed a bunch - so keep in mind we've also come up with a bit of extra worldbuilding (since we don't always vibe with official sources) Honestly, it depends on how well a bot is acquainted with/willing to use human terms. TFA Megatron for example would only use "my darling" if he knows it terribly flusters the human. He obviously looks down on humanity (and this includes everyone but his human - whom he still looks down upon to a degree but shhhhh). If his planet's terms don't have the same impact, then "darling" it is. But if he were to use a Cybertronian term, he would go for "my spark" (meaning "person I cannot live without"). TFP Megatron always goes for something that's a thin line between affectionate and demeaning. Things like "little one" where you're really questioning if he views you as someone he loves or a glorified pet. To be fair he's weird with everyone - any affection he has is mixed with murderous intent. TFP Optimus would call you something that shows his respect and appreciation for you. Not big on nicknames, but I'm sure you can get him to adopt something - be it Cybertronian or human lingo TFP Bulkhead and Breakdown are well-acquainted with human media (thanks to Miko and Knock Out) - but the nicknames they choose are either obscure references or sickeningly sweet to a point it gets ridiculous. Are they aware of this? Mostly Bulkhead - Breakdown would call you cotton candy with a straight face because it's sweet so it must be affectionate, right? TFP Ratchet would refer to you as his associate and later friend until he finally figures out his feelings and admits to himself he's been pining for so long it's starting to take a toll on him. Then he'll start calling his human "my spark" in private, because he's old as balls. But also "sweetspark" if he's feeling playful. Although he's willing to adopt some human terms as well and lovingly mock you by using the most grotesquely cute nicknames when you're alone. TFP Starscream? Absolute disaster. He tries so hard but he's too self-aware about how weird it sounds to call you anything affectionate. Usually everything he uses sounds demeaning even if he starts them with "my" - ie: my fleshbag. Unless you're in private and he's feeling particularly generous, at which point he's going to see if he can use some of the human lingo he learned while scouring the internet. He's testing them out to see which ones work - this can either make or break your boner. He's trying to seduce you not call you his "honey bear" TFP Smokescreen is a virgin who's never been with anyone before (you can pry this headcanon from my cold dead hands) so he's navigating the land of pet names with even less experience. Don't let him use the internet though because he'll probably end up calling you his bitch and see nothing wrong with that. Cybertronian terms tend to be easier. He says sweetspark and acts smooth to impress you, but all it takes is a sultry voice and his entire system needs to reboot. TFP Knock Out has a good grip of human lingo and is the best at mixing human and Cybertronian nicknames. He can easily switch between sweetspark and love - my spark and darling. Heck if he wants to be a smug bitch he'll call you kid/kiddo by saying Newspark.

[angel-shaw]

Adding on cuz the one about him not liking to drive sparked this

David hates driving in the winter, he hates the roads and how dumb people are

He hates Angel driving in it even more, he might trust them but he’s terrified of something out of their control happening and them getting hurt.

He also won’t let Angel (or any other pack mate really) drive if the car is not 100% safe. If anything is wrong he wants them to stay home, get a ride or he will pay for it to get fixed himself. He refuses for his pack to be put in danger beacuse their tires are worn down or something like that.

Futher more I think angel, babe,sweetheart and probably even Sam and darlin were ether scared to tell David, didn’t think to, or felt like it wasn’t including to them the first time something went wrong with their vehicle in winter

Then David found out and chewed them out for driving dangerously and insisted on fixing it immediately and driving them home himself.

Now it’s just their first thought to call David and be like “hay my car tires are stripped and the roads out here are to icy to be safe” and they know they will be excused from the meeting or David will go out of his way to pick them up and help get the problem fixed.

He even has set up a system where if someone isn’t telling him because they are embarrassed or something to need help, other members or the pack will let him know, and he will help without bringing to much attention to it so they don’t feel bad.

I’m thinking about wrighting a few mini fics about this…

David and Angel Headcannons

(first time posting…little nervous😢)

- David’s Lock Screen is a picture of him and Angel from their wedding

- Angel has glasses and contacts that they wear interchangeably

- David towers over Angel more than they realize

- David has an Instagram thanks to Angel and only posts pictures if they’re also in it

- Angel can’t reach the bottom of the washer and has to physically lean over it to grab smaller articles of clothing

- Angel sleeps on David’s chest every night

- Angel used to be slightly jealous of Darlin when they first found out about them because they thought David used to have a thing for Darlin (he never has)

- All of the pack members treat Angel with the same respect as David (but they mess around with them more)

- They are always touching each other’s hands

- David loves to pick Angel up

- Angel loves David’s leather jacket and often asks him to wear it just so they can look at him in it

- David does let them wear the jacket on occasion (it was also the jacket they wore during the inversion)

- When they’re not wearing David’s leather jacket, Angel wears their own utility jacket that is too big for them

- Angel is the shortest of the mates

- They have at least three vehicles

- Angel tends to bump into things a lot and therefore has quite a few bruises at any given time

- David insisted on building a surround sound system for their basement TV to emulate a movie theater experience

- They have a lot of silly floats for their pool

- David listens to metal and rock bands (like Bad Omens and David Bowie) when he’s by himself because he doesn’t think Angel would like it

- Angel absolutely loves being a Shaw and does not shut up about it

- Angel started calling David “Davey” because of Newsies but they will never admit it

- David has carried Angel to bed on more than one occasion

- David puts his arm out in front of them if he slams on the brakes too hard

- Angel deleted Michael’s number after the cat interaction and has never texted him again since

- David has gotten more comfortable talking to other people since meeting Angel and his social anxiety has eased

- Angel loves shopping with David and subtly “showing him off” now that they’re married

- Angel sleeps better next to David

- David gets misty-eyed when watching sad movies, Angel has never cried due to a movie

- Sometimes it takes David longer to say bye to Angel in the mornings because he’s scared of driving and will just stay there holding them until he feels ready to get on the road

- Angel has expensive taste and since meeting David it’s only gotten worse

- Angel loves fashion but also dresses like a poor college student

- David puts his arm around Angel’s waist when they are walking around (and insists on the sidewalk rule)

- Angel thinks David’s morning voice is the hottest thing ever

- David kisses Angel’s neck periodically and it always catches them off guard

- David’s RBF is terrifying to other people and he doesn’t know how bad it is

- Angel does know and thinks it’s funny

- Angel ties David’s shoes for him so he doesn’t have to bend down as far

- David has done the TikTok trend where he puts Angel on his shoulder

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

“𝔐𝔶 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔰𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡… 𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔩𝔶 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫’𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔠𝔞𝔭 𝔫𝔬 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔪𝔢… ℑ’𝔪 𝔤𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔞 𝔩𝔬𝔱” (hope yall get this ref)

Nam gyu x reader x thanos

Smoking weed with thangyu :3

Warnings: weed, smoking it, I don’t think they are crazy toxic in this one actually, kind of a poly relationship but not like officially in words? Idk, pre game/ no game AU bitch I have no clue. If you don’t like weed/aren’t comfortable pls don’t read and pls don’t judge 🙏

A/N: this is for me basically. I just thought this would be funny and I haven’t written in like 2 or 3 days and I wanna get back into it bc I miss it IDK😭 and these two are my favorites. America is geeking out and I’m stuck with it for 4 years so to cope imma write abt smoking zaza w squid game characters.

Also these are head cannons I just wanted to have that lyric as the title lol

_______

- dream and nightmare rotation somehow.

- I feel like smoking with them starts out chill ASF. Maybe yall start back at home and roll up, the three of yall cramped together on the couch.

- thanos is chilling at the arm rest end of the couch, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he meticulously distributes the goods evenly on the paper and rolling it to perfection. He even knows how to make those cute pattern filters. He repeats this process a few more times

- you are in the middle, crushed between him and nam gyu. Your head is nestled right on his shoulder blade as he works, and your right arm is looped through his left. No matter how many times he does it, you still always comment on how he’s “faster than last time” or that he’s done a great job. If he had a tail he’d be wagging it

- and then nam gyu is PRESSED up against you. One arm is clutching your torso as he practically lays on you, and the other is reached all the way behind you to rest on thanos’ back. His hands are never ever still so he’d be lightly tapping a rhythm on your skin as he waits impatiently

- once thanos is all done it’s time to smoke 🙏 now here’s some actual stoner HCs. I’ll make it short

Thanos: I wouldn’t say he’s a light weight bc he can get super high and be SET. But he just gets super high every time. Somehow he glitched out of high tolerance hell. Also he is a joint hog >:( ik it’s infuriating to try and get him to pass the fucking joint. Prolly uses it as a mic. Smh.

Nam gyu: has to smoke a lot to get high. Like eventually he gets there but he has to smoke one together with yall (bc he wants to be included) and one for himself. Bro gets sleepy, HELLA. Don’t matter indica or stativa. Honk shoo mimimi. I would say it makes him not keep his hands to himself but when has he ever??? Be prepared.

Together: world’s most stoppable duo. Literally whatever brain cells they had die. They are hanging off each other, laughing at genuinely anything, they don’t make any fucking sense, and to make it all worse they reek but tell each other they don’t. Once they’ve smoked they like to hit the streets together, maybe go clubbing :3 ends in 14 arrests idek

- they don’t skip you in a rotation EVER. They take their system serious asf. It’s always been thanos, you, nam gyu, repeat. And they will be dammed if you don’t get your hits in. They insist on shot gunning it to you (and each other but you ain’t hear that from me)

- they will never say no to more, three joints is just TO START. They got bongs, pipes, carts, brah everything

- they are extra sweet to you when smoking weed. Very cuddly, keeping you between them and then holding each other. You are literally trapped that way. And they keep looking at you with hazy eyes…

- hungry bastards. Usually they get food to eat before and then they can partake after. Sometimes they take you out to like a street vender for a cheap munchie session.

- not often tho. They like you keep you inside and away from other people. They like having you curled up between them, looking at them with glassy eyes, smoking the weed THEY bring you. Thanos and nam gyu are really possessive guys so they like moments where it’s literally just you three chilling.

- they be talking about the most random shit if all time. If yall remember the shower thoughts trend, that’s just the shit they say.

- they the typa guys when high to ask if you’d still love them if they were worms

- (you said yes and that you’d make a little compost bin for them to live in. They liked it)

- compliment city!! “Baby you’re so pretty” from nam gyu and a “don’t look away señorita, i wanna see you” from thanos.

- they hold hands with you.

- if you happen to green out they are with you in the bathroom. Nam gyu will hold your hair if you throw up and thanos is getting water and setting up for bed.

- tbh not all smoke seshs end in getting freaky, but it’s high in likelihood. Bc like cmon. They are freaky. And sometimes the weed be weeding. And they love you, and each other.

- but sometimes they end in just yall cozied up together in bed, rambling abt random shit, holding each other tightly as smoke clings in the air.

_______

Idk I just thought this was funny. I think the world would be much better if politicians talked shit out over a fresh J imma be real. America is hell.

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART TWO

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: time is ticking but sae-byeok seems to grow more irritated by your existence meanwhile you come face to face with the secret you’ve been holding onto.

wc. 1.9k

warnings: hints of homophobia | authors note: thanks for the love on part one! enjoy part two and let me know if you want to be added onto my taglist.

(nowhere girl masterlist)

You decided to get ready early in the morning to stay in your school campus for the entire day just to avoid staying at Ji-yeong and Sae-byeok’s apartment. Your new plan was just to stay here to sleep so wouldn’t bother them as much. Especially, Sae-byeok.

Because there was only so much you could pack in your duffle bag, you only brought your laptop, portfolio tote and your small portable supply container.

Before you head out, you go on your phone to find your new route to school for the week. And because you were concentrating, you failed to hear someone come out their room and walk towards you.

“Hey.” Sae-byeok hisses.

You shot your head up wondering why she’s up so early. Sae-byeok must also start her days early seeing as she has on her utility jacket, a pair of baggy jeans, and her unruly hair was more styled. The apartment was dimly lit so you can’t make out her expression, but you can only assume she isn’t happy about something you did.

“Why did you give Cheol your crayons?”

You blink. “You mean oil pastels?”

“Yes.” she grimaces. “I don’t know you so I don’t want you to be giving him things. Especially not without my permission.”

“They’re my old sets so I thought it would be better to give it to him than to throw them away.”

“We don’t need your charity case. Don’t give him any more of your shit.”

A frown starts to form on your lips. It’s bad enough you can’t go home anymore, now you have to deal with this.

You can feel your blood begin to boil watching Sae-byeok head to the front door, so you follow her out.

“They’re just oil pastels I don’t see why this has to be such a big deal?” you say to her, your voice louder now that you’re out of the apartment. Sae-byeok isn’t moved by your words. “Your brother looked so happy when I told him he could keep them—I wasn’t planning on giving him anything more.”

The morning breeze hits your red cheeks, cooling them. You following her like a baby duckling was not how you wanted to start your morning when you had a long day ahead.

Once you’re both out on the streets, Sae-byeok stops walking and spins around to face you. She took one step closer and you take a step back.

“Good.” Sae-byeok says.

“Good?”

Sae-byeok doesn’t like naive people. She doesn’t know you but from what she could guess: you’re just a spoiled daughter who threw a tantrum and ran away to prove a point. Once it all blows over, you have a support system to bounce back on. You can go back to focusing solely on your studies and later make a name for yourself—everything she can’t do no matter how many hours in the days she works or how many people she pickpockets.

“Yes. Good.” she repeats mockingly. “I don’t want him to get too attached to you being here—he’s a sensitive kid. So, just keep to yourself and focus on how you’re going to find a new place to stay in less than a week. Got it?”

You didn’t think the words of someone you met three days ago would affect you so much. But here you are, frozen in place, ashamed of yourself. However, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think about the shift in accents when she spoke.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

You were the first person in the art studio—about an hour or so early. With all your deadlines quickly approaching you saw the silver lining in arriving to your university early because you can catch up with all your work. Right now you were working on an art piece due next week, not realizing that class was soon starting and your friends began arriving.

“Hey.” one of them greets you.

You look down from your piece and smile at, Park Yoon. She was the first person you contacted when you got kicked out of your parent’s house, you lived in her dormitory for only a week before you got caught. Although you wouldn’t consider Yoon a close friend seeing as she has a huge friend group, she was a reliant one.

“How are you, um, holding up?” she asks quietly to not catch the attention of the other students who began arriving.

“Not bad. I’m staying at an old school friends apartment for the time being.” you tell her, wiping your hands with a moist cloth.

Yoon nods looking at the ground in contemplation. “How long?”

“A week—well technically until Friday so five days.”

Something about her behavior seems off to you. Usually, she is pretty chipper ready to talk someone’s ears off. But today she is quieter, talking in less verbiage. Yoon shoots a glance around the classroom, surveying the vicinity to make sure no one is watching.

“There were rumors flying around about the real reason you ran away.”

You snort and fall back down on your seat to meet her at eye level. “Rumors? Aren’t we too old to be starting rumors?”

Yoon frowns and scoots a little back. “You know what it is…right?”

You stare at the floor, expressionless.

“They aren’t true, right?” Yoon asks cautiously. You threw her a look and the girl’s lips part to gasp or say something—you aren’t sure but it wasn’t a good reaction. Your heart rate begins to increase as you turn to face your canvas.

It’s all over now, you think. If Yoon has figured it out so will the rest of your peers and your social life is beyond the grave now.

Not even a minute later, Yoon stands up and sits on the other side of the room when she saw her friends enter. You start to become paranoid, wondering if she’ll immediately begin to gossip.

Throughout the duration of class you couldn’t help but get lost in your thoughts. The anticipation of everyone finding out about you was swallowing you whole. You are starting to wish that time moves slower so you wouldn’t have to leave class.

It didn’t help that Yoon and her friends kept stealing looks at your direction. You tried to avoid making eye contact but you would find that hard to do.

Rubbing the sweat from your palms, you pick up your brush and use this rush of panic as a way to speed up the process of your art work.

“Don’t forget about the deadline coming up!” your professor says five octaves higher while the class starts packing their things. “The students with the top three highest grades will get their work displayed at Hangaram Art Museum for the entirety of the summer!”

Your professors words were in the back of your mind as you frantically tried to pack your things to avoid Yoon and her group. It wasn’t until you heard a ‘Psst’ coming behind you that you snap out of your trance.

“Hey,” whispers a peer of yours. You never spoken to him, but the toothy inviting grin he is sending you is enough for you to know that he isn’t harmful. “I just wanted to tell you not to let those girls get into your head. I know how you feel—if you know what I mean.”

You send him a quizzical look. “Thanks?” So, they did gossip and everyone in this class knows. You might just throw up.

“Just keep your chin up and don’t let them see you in a moment of weakness and you’ll be alright.” he sends you a thumbs up as he walks away. You force a smile that goes away in a blink of an eye and sink into your seat.

What have you done? Why did you trust Yoon so much? You feel like such an idiot.

⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

It was almost nearing midnight, Ji-yeong and Sae-byeok were in the living room. After a long day of working, Sae-byeok was trying to rest before doing it all over again tomorrow by watching mindless television until her roommate disrupts her to start pacing back and forth in front of her. Sae-byeok knew what she was getting worked up about. Ji-yeong clearly began to notice your lack of presence today.

“Where could she be this late? I’m sure libraries are closed by now…” she trails off, rubbing her chin in deep thought.

Sae-byeok’s mind goes back to earlier this morning. Your brief exchanges could’ve caused her to avoid coming to the apartment but your duffle bag is still here. You’d have to come back eventually.

“Sae-byeok, what did you do?”

Sae-byeok’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “Me?”

“I saw that look you just did. You look guilty. What did you do?”

“Nothing.” she responds coolly.

Ji-yeong purposely blocks the television screen and crosses her arms. “I’m not moving until you tell me the truth.”

“I don’t remember it was early in the morning.”

“Is it because she gave Cheol her crayons?”

Sae-byeok narrows her eyes. “How did you—?”

“He wouldn’t stop talking to me about it when I picked him up from school.” Ji-yeong rolls her eyes. “So, it is because of that? You got mad at her because of crayons, Sae-byeok, really?”

“It’s not just about the crayons.” she snips, sitting up straight from the couch. “Do you even know her personally? When was the last time you two actually talked before this?”

Ji-yeong doesn’t say anything.

“Thought so.” she scoffs. “I don’t trust her. Especially since you don’t want to tell me why she ran away in the first place.”

Ji-yeong purses her lips to digest her words. She shuffles to let Sae-byeok watch television again and sank next to her in the couch.

“I think she’s nice.” she grumbles like a child. Sae-byeok sends her a glare.

“You think, you don’t know.”

Ji-yeong shrugs. “I have no reason to think she’s a bad person.”

“People can change overnight. I’ve seen it happen and I’ve seen the consequences of being too trusting.”

Ji-yeon goes silent again. “No. This is something different—“

“Well, if you can just tell me why she’s even here in the first place then maybe I—“

“I can’t.”

“Then I don’t see the point in discussing this.” Sae-byeok sighs. She gets up from the comfort of the couch and stretches before grabbing her coat by the front door.

“Where are you going?” Ji-yeong frowns.

“To clear my head. I won’t be long.”

Ji-yeong doesn’t push any further, knowing this is something Sae-byeok occasionally does when her thoughts start to become too much. Maybe Ji-yeong went a little too far trying to defend your character because Sae-byeok rarely ever backs down from an argument so she really tested her limits.

Of course with Sae-byeok’s luck, she stumbles upon you sitting on the staircase, doodling something on your sketchbook underneath the fluorescent lights of the building.

Sae-byeok stares at your back trying to figure out if she should sneak back inside or talk to you. Maybe this is her chance to figure out what you’re really up to and prove Ji-yeong wrong.

“Why aren’t you inside?” she asks you after hesitating. You don’t response, you just throw her a glance before going back to drawing. Sae-byeok feels like this is some sort of payback for earlier.

Sae-byeok thought she was good at reading people’s body language and automatically pinpoint who they are and what their intentions are. It was something she had to learn to do in order to survive. But you are becoming an outlier.

“Ji-yeong is worried.”

“Well, just tell her I’m here.” you speak up. “I’ll be inside later. I just want to stop by a convenience store to get something to eat.”

“We have food inside.”

You turn to make eye contact with her again. For a brief moment, no words were spoken even as tension was rising.

“You got mad at me over oil pastels. Why would I go around touching your food?” you ask softly.

And for the first time, Sae-byeok is taken aback by you. There is another evanescent period of silence.

“Fine.” she says and starts walking down the staircase and further away from the building only to turn around to call out your name. You poke your head out from your sketchbook, raising an eyebrow at her. “Are you coming or what?”

You survey her figure blankly. With every interaction you have with Sae-byeok, she just keeps confusing you further. It feels like you are playing mental game of chess with her and you aren’t sure how to feel about that. You’re already overwhelmed with what happened today at school, you shouldn’t add someone like Sae-byeok to the mix.

Sae-byeok dug her hands deep inside the pockets of her jacket and taps her foot on the pavement, waiting for you impatiently. You sigh in defeat and close your sketchbook.

Just five more days and this’ll all just be a blurry memory, you think to yourself.

🏷️: @monroesturnns

[hangeslovers-world]

YOU BRAT!

Synopsis - brat tamer head-cannons abt the squid game women!

A/n - I’m working on one for just hyun-ju but I needed to get THIS out my system so bad sorry if this is bad I’ve literally never written brat taming before soooo… ANYWHO REQUEST ARE OPEN

Warning - LOADS OF FREAKY SHIT

Characters - no-eul/ hyun-ju (I’ll do a full fic later…with the shaman lady.)

No-eul

You’ve pissed off a total sadist I fear good luck.

No but really the second she thinks you’re out of line she’s instantly fixing that.

Her preferred method is definitely edging she needs her poor girl to be desperate for release before she does anything

Her fingers always stay right at your clit the second you complain she pinch’s it just to make you squirm (she loves watching you squirm)

Punishments are given out fairly thorough she won’t punish you unless you deserve it

So if you like to cum if just listen to her!

No-eul’s fingers touched just the right spot over and over again. You could feel the heat burn up in your stomach as your legs attempted to close from the pressure. Just then…it all went away.

“Cmon I was so close please- oh please just let me cum!” Tears sprung down your eyes if your hands weren’t tied down you honestly would’ve fingered yourself at this point.

“7 times you didn’t listen this week, you can cum once you’ve payed for all your nonsense.” Her words were cold yet they always left you even wetter.

Before you could even open your mouth once more her finger flicked your clit as she smirked looking at you.

“Don’t complain or you’ll owe me more.”

From that alone you knew you were in for a long night…you just hoped she’d let you cum at the end of it.

HYUN-JU

Opposite of no-eul she will have you seeing STARSS

How you managed to make this sweetheart mad enough to have rough sex with you is a mystery to you also

Normally she’s so gentle?…now she’s got her hand on your neck giving you the horniest and scariest look ever

Her hand is around your waist as you ride her for god knows how long your legs are tired, your soaked, she’s soaked, and on top of all she hasn’t given you permission to stop.

“U’Unnie…” your voice was hoarse as your teary eyes looked down at hyun-ju who was red and also overstimulated.

“One more ok.” Her voice was nothing but a whisper yet you knew she wasn’t asking, she was telling you.

Doing as told you got to work moving up and down on her cock holding her breast for nothing more then support as you moved.

“Take it. Take all of me” she said moaning with you. Like a song of melodys mixing together her moans your whines all stuck together as you both cum.

“Have you learned your lesson” hyun-ju says outta breath as she moves you next to her.

“Have you learned yours? You’re the tired one” your words were playful…and a bit teasing as hyun-ju grabbed your chin looking at you in your eyes.

“I’m tired yet, we can keep going.”

Those words alone had your legs ache but…you can’t deny hyun-ju can you?

(Ignore the MAN!)

[stargirl-ae]

let me take care of you, darlin': joel miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader 

It’s pretty safe, maybe a kiss snuck in here and there. no outbreak, there’s a slight age gap between joel and reader, maybe like five years idk. lots of nicknames.

summary; reader’s caught a stomach bug and joel just wants to take care of his girl. 

warnings: mentions of vomiting

word count: 1,054 words

not proof read

6:45 am 

there’s no way there’s anything left in your system after how much you’ve been throwing up. nothing was staying down, no saltine crackers, no little bits of fruit you’ve tried to keep down. you decided to stay on the bathroom floor of the house that you and your longtime boyfriend joel shared. your body aches from how much it’s been contracting from all of your throwing up. you stare up at the ceiling and see the light from the window shining through. letting out a sigh, you pull your legs to your chest to rest your head between your knees. your brain was foggy, your chest tight, your hands shaky. 

you stayed with your head resting on your knees for a few minutes before there was a knock at the door. “hey baby, you alright in there ?” joel’s voice was muffled, but even then you could tell he’s pressed up against the door eager to hear your response. “mhm, just need a minute.” you left your head slowly. you didn’t want to get up too fast in fear of you getting a head rush and falling over. you grab onto the bathroom counter slowly standing, groaning and holding the other hand to your stomach, feeling empty and famished. 

“can i come in?” in that instant you look into the mirror in front of your at your pale reflection, seeing your under eyes sunken and buried in dark circles. your lips dry, your face flushed. you don’t even notice joel opening the door slightly and soon his eyes meet yours in the mirror. “darlin’, you’re not feeling well?” he opens the door fully seeing your in not your best state. “i don’t wanna talk about it, i need to brush my teeth.” i look down at the toothbrush holder and see my red one and joel’s blue one. “ya’ been in here for the past twenty minutes. you barely ate anything since yesterday” he walks behind you to snake his arms around your abdomen that’s seemingly empty. “what’s wrong with my girl? hmm?” he rests his chin on your right shoulder and places a light kiss on the crook of your neck, between your grey tank top and your soft skin. 

“I don’t know,” you go in to grab your toothbrush and dab a little toothpaste on the bristles. “maybe it’s something I ate, had to be from yesterday.” you two had decided to try out a new thai takeout place for lunch yesterday and your body did not agree with the food. “i’ll take care of ya’ today huh?” he suggests, his dark brown eyes meeting yours in the mirror again. “i thought you had a job with tommy?” you sigh out, the pounding in your head is only getting worse by the minute. “i can get one of the guys to cover for me, just brush your teeth and let me make a call, hmm?” he places another kiss between into the crook of your neck and you sigh out. he leaves your shared bathroom and you continue on to brush your teeth. 

   

“i’m yours for the day darlin’. what do you need ? some soup? some tea? gatorade? saltines?” joel’s built stature leans against the door frame of your bedroom and you walk to your side of the closet you two shared to grab one of those big pullover sweaters that feels like a giant blanket. joel had gotten it for your this past Christmas, it had big brown cow spots on it and cow ears on the hood. “oh, my girl…” he drags on his last syllable, coming closer to you. he brings his hands to cup the sides of your face. his face changes immediately, “darlin’ you’re burnin’ up.” concern displays itself in his dark brows, he frowns. “i’m fine, i’m fine joel.” you grab a soft hold on his wrists and muster up a small smile. “come on, mama. let’s get you to bed.” he leans in to place a kiss on your forehead. 

you lean your head into joel’s strong chest, breathing in his scent, the scent of the earth clings to his skin and he wraps his arms around my shoulders. “come on baby, i’ll lay with you all day if you want.” his head lays atop of yours for a few seconds and you then pop your head back up to meet his gaze. 

he leans down slowly to place a kiss onto your lips and you sigh out feeling the slightest relief in your migraine-filled mind. 

   

the two of you both made it to your shared bed; after joel makes a cup of tea for you along with your regular water bottle. the cream colored sheets cover the both of your bodies. joel’s body alone feels like a space heater. “do you want the tv on? we can watch criminal minds.” he suggested as he adjusts his body to his liking, opening his arm for you to lay on his chest. you nod your head as you nuzzle into his chest, just wanting to be as close to your boyfriend as you possibly could be. “thank you, joel.” you whisper against his chest. “what’s that sweetheart?” he couldn’t hear you from your voice being so low. “thank you for staying with me.” you look up to him, taking in all of his beautiful features, his scruffy beard, patched with brown and greying spots, his strong nose, his chocolate brown eyes. “i’d take any day i could to take care of my girl.” he brings a hand to my chin and tips your head up a little more to meet his lips. “i love you.” you tell him, with a big grin across your lips. “i love you too baby, stomach bug and all.” he laughs to himself. he brings his attention back to the television mounted on the wall and clicks on where the both of you left on criminal minds. 

 

in a matter of the first ten minutes of the episode you were sound asleep with your arms wrapped around joel’s torso as soft snores left you. joel was just watching your body rise and fall with your light breathing, his hand lights tracing your spine. all he wanted to do today was take care of his girl. 

[duckprintspress]

Indie Press Web Ring: Interest Check

I don’t know how many of the folks reading this were as active in Ye Olden Days Of The Internet as I was, but circa 2000, discoverability for a webpage was a very different process than it is now. I ran a fan site back in the day, and then, the key was getting involved with similar web pages and building connections, especially trying to get listed on relevant link farms and joining web rings related to things my page was about. A web ring is a lot like a link farm, but instead of being “one page with a big ole list of web pages,” it’s instead an interlinking system. Every website in the ring bears a badge and links to the full list, the previous site, and the next site, and the idea is that if someone clicks “next site” enough times, they’ll circle through the entire list of sites in the web ring and end up back where they started. Rings were always very handy for driving traffic (from the web site owner point of view) and for finding a lot of like-minded web sites (from the user point of view).

See where I’m going with this?

With big corporations now dominating the internet and often drowning out softer voices or throttling traffic to smaller pages, with our SEO often buried by the clamor of useless ads unrelated to our work, I’m looking back to how I used to find people to request WinAmp skins from me and thinking it’s time to go back to The Old Ways.

All of which is to say: I’d like to make a web ring for indie publishers. Especially for indie publishers on the smaller end of the spectrum and those who work in speculative fiction, LGBTQIA+ creators and works, or both. As in: places like Duck Prints Press.

But a web ring can’t possibly be composed of only one web page, and that’s where this post comes in. Do you own an indie press or run the website for one? Would you be interested in having the site for your press be included in a web ring of indie presses? Then fill out my web ring interest check! I figure if I can get about a dozen folks interested, I’ll put something together.

I hope to get to know y’all!

Not an indie press? please signal boost to help spread the word!

Absolutely zero pressure ping to a few indie presses I know have Tumblr accounts. @inclusivefuture (I know you're closing down but... yeah. <3 ) @spacefruitpress @archiveoftheodd @thewhumpyprintingpress @echolitmag

@oficmag @midnightmeadowpublishing

[rat6ix]

So what?

Nam-gyu x reader

Summary: you are horrible for each other but neither of you are gonna do anything about it.

Warnings: smut, toxic!nam-gyu AND reader, neither of them are good people dont be like them, degrading from both parties, switch!nam-gyu and reader, biting, doesn’t take place in squid game, talk of drugs; no description of either doing them but yall high as shit, reader and nam-gyu love each other in some kind of fucked up way…i think, reader is highkey a freak and not in a good way, choking but not the sexy kind reader is tryna kill him, but then again he finds it hot so maybe it is sexy..?, no aftercare.

Porn with no plot 😇

—

Wc: 1.1k

— 🐀

At this point you’re not sure nam-gyu remembers why you were fighting, the drugs in your system combined with the feeling of his cock shoved inside of you making both of your brains fuzzy, you could tell he was getting antsy —impatient even. You hadn’t moved since his cock had slipped inside of you, he didnt deserve it, Not until he apologized. His hands away from any part of you, you made it very clear you would have no problem kicking him out of your apartment , it wouldn’t be the first time he was on your doorstep begging for you to let him in.

You heard him whine from under you, obviously trying to keep himself from squirming. You could feel his cock twitch every time you shifted a certain way, you wanted to roll your eyes at how pathetic he was. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his eyes squeezed shut trying not to fall apart but you knew he would sooner than later.

“Don’t be like that, stop being a cunt nam-gyu look at me.” You teased.

Bringing your hand up to his jaw. You chuckled as he glared at you, his hands twitching by his sides. You know how much he wanted to flip you over and fuck your brains out but you also knew he wouldn’t cause his ego means too much to him.

“Fuck you.” Nam-gyu growled, his jaw clenched his eyes still glaring. You stared down at him blankly before you started laughing, you’d might as well have tears in your eyes at this point.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you.” you joked.

You rolled your hips, a smile still on your face as nam-gyu let out a strangled noise. You moved your upper body closer to his, your hand leaving his jaw finally. Leaning to whisper in his ear.

“Say you’re sorry and I’ll fuck you.”

He made a noise of defiance, jerking his head away from your’s. You leaned back up and frowned, reaching down and gripping his hair. He winced at the feeling, your grip tight as you pulled his face towards yours.

“Don’t do that nam-gyu, you owe me an apology for what you did.” You insisted.

When He didn’t answer your grip on his hair got tighter until he broke.

“Fuck—fine! Im sorry.” He pleaded tears gathering in his eyes from the pain.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” You chuckled.

You knew he didn’t and you were right, the look on his face gave him away. It was the face he always made when he was about to lie himself out of trouble. You knew him far too well for far too long for that to work on you. He didn’t know but you didn’t mind reminding him, your hands moving to his chest.

“Remember when you left me high off my ass on the bathroom floor of club pentagon tonight because you had “better things to do than babysit someone who cant handle their drugs”, hm?” You tilted your head as you spoke.

You were tempted to get off his dick kick him out right now just because he didn’t remember, luckily a nice girl stayed with you until you were sober enough to walk and he’s lucky you’re somewhat sober now or else you’re sure you’d be throwing his shit out of your bedroom window; you probably still will if he pisses you off again.

“You’re still mad about that?” Nam-gyu laughed.

His laughter didnt last long as you brought your hands to his throat and fucking squeezed. His eyes widened as you smiled down at him, his fingers trying to pry your hands off of him.

“C’mon say sorry.” You chuckled, doing your best to keep your hands where they were.

“Fuck— im— sor—sorry.” He tried his best to wheeze out.

Satisfied with his shitty apology you release your grip on his neck leaving him sputtering for breath and coughing. You looked down at him with disinterest, your fingers drawing shapes into his stomach. It took him a little bit to get back to normal, his eyes still wide looking at you. He opened his mouth to talk but you cut him off before he even began.

“I could feel your dick twitching the entire time i dont wanna hear anything you fucking slut.” You rolled your eyes.

You barely had time to register him flipping the both of you over, his hands on your wrists keeping you still. His face was unreadable but you could tell he was fucking pissed. It didn’t take long for him to start fucking his cock in you at a brutal pace, his ringed fingers moving to to dig into your thighs, You were definitely going to have bruises on them in the morning.

Your fingers digging into his shoulders kept you grounded, your jaw dropped a bit has he fucked you into your mattress. He was breathing heavy above you, his head hung with hair framing his face. You could hear him curse under his breath a few times before raising his head back up and flipping his hair back to where it wouldn’t obscure his vision.

“Looking a little tired nam-gyu—“ you laughed.

You were cut off by a particularly rough thrust, jolting you backward. You could nam-gyu had enough if your bullshit but that only made you smile harder as he got angrier.

“Stupid fucking bitch, always running your mouth.” Nam-gyu retorted, gripping your jaw.

It hurt to keep smiling, his fingers digging into your face, but you didn’t care. Your mouth open now as you drool all over his hand. He looks at you disgusted before letting go to wiping the drool all over your face. You laughed as best as you could with his cock still being shoved into you at an alarming pace. Your breathing was as labored as nam-gyus at this point, you could tell he was as close to cumming as you were.

Your hands went to the hair on his neck, he probably wasnt even feeling anything but you wrapped around his cock as you tugged at it. His eyes were trained on where your bodies met, occasionally looking up at your face. His hips were stuttering now, the way you were squeezing his cock not making it any easier. For the first time that night he leaned down and caught your lips in a bruising kiss, you decided to take pity on him and return it. After the kiss was broken you took advantage of the position you were in, digging your teeth into his shoulder smiling up at him when he pushed you back with a glare.

It wasnt long after that you both came, nam-gyu pulling out to cum on your stomach. The room was still, the only sound being both of your loud breathing. He rolled off of you a minute later, taking his place on your other side. You stared up at the ceiling for a while before getting up and making your way to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Nam-gyu asked out of breath.

“Shower.”

—

Belongs to rat6ix

[fuck-customers]

So. Day after Christmas. I’m on register. And so many customers who don’t have a fucking gift receipt. There were some who were the purchaser themselves and just straight up returning, which was totally fine, but oh my god how are there so many people wanting to return without a proof of purchase 🙃 This is why gift receipts are a thing in the first place!!! And then we ask if they know the persons email/phone #, and they don’t know either, in which case we have to put it through as a no receipt return, but our policy is to only do an exchange for the current selling price, no store credit. And they don’t want to do that, so now we’re at an impasse. All because they don’t have a gift receipt. There were 2 separate instances of it being a secret Santa gift, and another lady who got mad when I figured out which of the 5 (FIVE) profiles she had had the purchase attached to it. So she’d have to pay more for the exchange since the price she paid was lower than the current selling price. Idk. This might be a small thing to be annoyed about, but I am and I wanted to get it out of my system

Posted by admin Rodney

[just-a-girl-who-loves-tmr]

Head canons

Post death-cure, safe haven

Thomas, Newt, Newtmas

I warn you this post is very long so welcome to he inner workings of my brain and 3am

Thomas

- ADHD!! You can’t tell me I’m wrong (this is kinda canon but it’s never actually mentioned) Will hyper fixate on things and neglect his well being

- His eyes are hazel, but they go green in sunlight with a lil bit of gold- that’s why newt’s favourite colour is green because its Tommy’s eye colour in sunlight but he won’t admit it he just says it’s a nice colour

- The type of person who does puzzles for fun. Again he will hyper fixate on a puzzle or task and won’t rest until he’s finished (unless Newt drags him to bed which he has done many times)

- Wakes up at 5am to go on runs with Minho. Minho wakes him up because Thomas gets made if he doesn’t and feels unproductive

- Cold showers all the time- unless he’s showering with Newt, then they compromise because Newt likes hot showers

- Either he’s extremely smart or extremely stupid. There is no in between. He could be going on about diffusion and the movement of particles between galaxies but then he doesn’t know how to tie his own shoe lace without making a huge knot he can never undo.

- He has extreme survivors guilt from everything happened to the point where he has panic attacks because of it. He always feels so guilty for helping WICKED, which of course no one blames him for but he always feels like he betrayed them and on the worst days he feels like he deserved to die for helping them hurt his friends.

Newt

- my baby has separation anxiety (I’m sorry!!) he constantly needs reassurance that the others still like him and especially from Thomas after they get together (which happens I will not be told otherwise) that Thomas still loves him and isn’t going to leave him

- This is also because some of the other treat him differently after he was cured- sometimes treating him like he’s fragile and delicate which Newt hates- he fears that the others don’t trust him and feels like he’s not cured and he’s going to snap and hurt them

- Being sick is also a huge trigger for him- he has a weaker immune system than the others due to the fact that he isn’t immune like they are so he gets sick a lot more often- even if its just a cold he gets super on edge, constantly checking his arms and pulse to make sure he’s still himself

- Thomas is always a help during these periods when Newt is anxious and sick, reminding Newt that he’s cured and that he won’t leave him alone. He makes Newt tea and gives him loads of attention- which Newt doesn’t love at first because he’s independent and thinks he can do it himself until Thomas puts him arms around him and kisses him softly and tells him that he loves him, then Newt just melts

- Convinced he has an acoustic guitar because my sister mentioned to me once that he would suit it and I cannot get the idea out my head. He would play it super well and use it to take his mind off things when his brain gets hectic. He doesn’t like playing in front of people because he gets kinda self conscious when everyone’s looking at him but he plays for Thomas when they’re alone and Thomas can’t take his eyes off him because he looks so beautiful.

- He still writes a lot, journaling, poetry, little stories he makes up. It’s kind of like a therapy thing for him when he gets stressed out and he doesn’t want to talk about it he just writes it down. He occasionally lets Thomas read snippets of his poetry and writing and Thomas loves it. Also loves reading so he and Thomas read together until Thomas gets bored and lays on Newt’s chest while Newt reads to him and plays with him hair

Newtmas

- Nicknames>>> Newt calls Thomas things like Tommy, Love, Darling etc. Thomas calls Newt things like Babe, Baby, angel etc.

- They both get anxious about the other one overworking, Thomas gets worried about Newt’s leg because Newt insists on working a lot to make up for the time he couldn’t work while he was recovering. Thomas knows Newt is okay and that he is independent and capable of doing it himself but he still makes sure Newt takes breaks and massages it for him to take the pain away. Newt gets nervous that Thomas is running too much and not eating enough because Thomas feels like he’s obligated to do it and he needs to do his part, but Newt in turn, makes him take breaks and makes sure he’s eating enough etc

- They are so touch starved when they get to the safe haven they are practically hanging off each other, constantly touching in some way. They’re walking? They’re holding hands. They’re sitting? They are pressed against each other’s side if not on the other’s lap. They’re sleeping? They’re cuddling. It’s little things as first just as they’re getting used to being able to touch each other affectionately whenever they want to but they get comfortable very quickly because they are so familiar with each other.

- To everyone else , Thomas is always the talker and Newt is the listener. Thomas always has something to talk about, literally anything on his mind he yap about to Newt and Newt listens because he loves listening to Thomas babbling about this and that. Everyone else agrees that Newt is the quiet one but god forbid when they’re alone Newt does not shut up. He doesn’t talk as much in large groups but as soon as it’s just him and Thomas he talks and talks about anything and everything that he’s been keeping to himself all day. He gets kind of embarrassed about it when he realises how much he’s said but Thomas loves listening to him talk especially when it’s something he’s passionate about.

- Newt’s limp okay. Newt is very independent and hates the idea that he needs help to get around or that he needs to rely on other people’s support but Thomas always talks him down when Newt’s leg is sore. He protests at first but all Thomas has to do is look at him with his big brown eyes and place a gently hand on Newt’s thigh and Newt gives in. Thomas makes sure Newt rests his leg, carrying him everywhere just to hear Newt whine that he can do it himself but still cling to him, burying his face into the brunet’s hair.

- Thomas has also perfected to making of tea and prides himself in making to tea every time he’s sad or in pain. He always gives the cup a kiss first, he did as a joke first claiming that it tastes better when it’s made with love but now it’s a must do and Newt complains that it doesn’t taste the same if Thomas doesn’t give it a kiss first

Thank you for listening to me yap <3 I’m thinking of doing Ivy trio + Minho separately headcanons so let me know what you think

Ily guys <33

[catboymoments]

I feel like you’ve kinda changed a lot recently tbh.

Like I don’t mean any harm. I just mean you went from not being okay with things like Bakudeku, selfcest and other extreme kinks, etc, but now you’re all like, yeah that’s all fine.

Like, what changed your mind on all that? (Genuinely asking)

Also, follow up, what things in fiction do make you feel uneasy?

((Cause I recall you mentioning things like enjoying drawing gore or listening to songs about cannibalism))

This is a bit of a weird ask but since you’re asking genuinely and nicely I’ll expound

Short answer: I got older

Long answer: I grew up, I met a lot of people and realized that there’s a lot of things irl that don’t really… matter that much in fiction? Or matter less? Or they’re really not as bad or world ending as I once thought they were when I was a teenager. When your world gets bigger than the walls of your high school, the things you worried about in fictional worlds become less significant.

for starters let me say that I was never not okay with selfcest I just didn’t really say anything about it until it was brought up, like I really don’t see how it’s a problem. It’s just the age old question of “would you fuck your clone.” and I was a bit of a late bloomer sexuality wise but I’ve always been a bit less vanilla when it comes to kinks- I just keep most if not all of my discussions and art of it in private conversations or under lock and key on priv. I value my privacy and I only want adults to see it.

What changed my view on doing different stuff in fiction was the revelation that I can explore darker topics and complex relationships without it being a moral failing or me endorsing or condoning it and I don’t have to just stick to making fluff. I don’t have to keep my content “”unproblematic”” because it’ll make me problematic somehow, that’s just not how it works. Like I can write about bad stuff in fiction and write stuff as horror and abuse or just explore relationships and how they’d be good or bad and examine tragedy from a well rounded lens. It was like Rock Lee taking off his leg weights for me. I can draw anything .

What makes me uneasy in fiction is when dark topics are romanticized or sexualized. when they’re presented as something “hot” or desirable, or it’s made not with the intention of telling a story or being significant- like for example there’s a difference between someone writing a fic about Hunter being a victim of csa and the horror of that vs someone writing a smutty fic of Hunter x Belos for the purpose of whacking off. There’s a difference between gore and violence on a character for the sake of torture and pain vs angst for a reason. Angst that makes sense. Bad things happen in real life and are okay to be portrayed in fiction, but sometimes I can tell when something is meant to be masturbatory. That’s what makes me uncomfortable!

Also I had a fascination with gore ever since I was a little kid and found warrior cats amvs and I drew a lot of battle scenes with red pen but I think I got all of that out of my system in childhood, I don’t draw gore anymore for the sake of gore LOL like I can’t even play mouthwashing bc I know it’ll make me nauseous

I hope this helps ??