#Sloth Gloss Games

[satoshi-mochida]

Mecha dance battles rhythm RPG Steel Century Groove announced for PC - Gematsu

Sloth Gloss Games has announced Steel Century Groove, a rhythm RPG set in a world where mechas once used for war are now used for dance battles. It will launch for PC via Steam in 2025.

Here is an overview of the game, via its Steam page:

About

Pilot mecha in rhythm RPG dance battles. Assemble a squad of colossal dancers, challenge every rival you lock eyes with, compete for the championship trophy, and uncover the secrets of a world where everything moves to the drumbeat of steel feet. Thousands of years ago, humanity built colossal war machines to stop the apocalypse. Now they just use them for dance battles. Groove your way across a rich world, assemble the perfect mecha crew, and rise from humble beginnings to ultimate stardom.

Key Features

Dance Dance Mecha! – Challenge other pilots o intense dance-offs on a massive scale.

RPG Rhythm Battles – Each mech has a unique kit and special mechanics. Choose the best move for each note to defeat your opponent.

A Pilot’s Journey – Make friends nd rivals on your journey to claim the championship trophy.

Turn Up the Volume – Groove to the awesome built-in soundtrack or bring your own MP3s.

Gigantic Adventure – Battle from coast to coast and uncover the secrets behind the steel dance.

Additional Features

Collect and Upgrade – Level up your mechs, equip them with mods, and pair them with different combinations of backup dancers.

Unique Gameplay Kits – Each mech has their own set of abilities, mechanics, and resources. A simple starter mech builds and spends energy, while later mechs have you maintaining an army of drones or swapping between cards in a mini deck builder.

Flexible Rhythm Combat – Steel Century Groove doesn’t demand a specific button press for each note. Instead, pick from your mech’s kit of battle abilities.

No Playing the Metronome – Challenge yourself against interesting melodies, even when playing with your own music. You’ll never just be endlessly tapping out the beat.

No Accessories Required – Built from the start for gamepad or mouse-and-keyboard.

Watch the announcement trailer below. View the first screenshots at the gallery.

Announce Trailer

[blue-disco-lights]

Tag Game Tuesday

Thank you @suzy-queued @deedala @shinygalaxyperson @energievie @sirrudo @tanktopgallavich for tagging me in!

name: Julia 🍵

when is your birthday? April 24 ♉️

favorite social media platform outside of tumblr? Instagram - though Twitter is a close second, and I only started using it last year because of this fandom :)

do you wear makeup? eyeliner (which I taught myself to apply on the bus going to high school), mascara and lip gloss. otherwise i have no idea how to use foundation, concealer and all the rest

favorite board game? hmm. The Game of Life? what a weird game lol. The last board game I bought was based on 'The Shining' and I played it on family vacay with my kids. Normal.

do you have any tattoos? Yes just one for now, a floral+geometry design inside of my upper arm. I'd like another but fear all my decision-making powers may have gone into this one.

which of the seven deadly sins would you say you struggle with the most? Yeah maybe it's sloth 🤷🏼‍♀️ i need more motivation to go out and do things nowadays

best vacation you’ve ever been on? Oahu for beach & tie between Montreal & Chicago for city exploring

how do you get around town? (car/bus/train/on foot/etc) I live in a very bus & walking-friendly city. I grew up taking the bus everywhere. My current work has parking (which is VERY rare, so I drive and listen to audiobooks)

describe your vibe in three words: Calming. Non-judgey, Curious.

share a song rec: (i know it's the theme song from "Portlandia", but it always calms me :)

Tagging in @palepinkgoat @creepkinginc @michellemisfit @mmmichyyy @depressedstressedlemonzest @grumble-fish @too-schoolforcool @sleepyfacetoughguy @silvanshadow @sweetbee78 @honeyvanillin. @divine-gallavich @ms-moonlight-inn @notherenewjersey @ian-galagher @gallawitchxx @francesroserecs @lingy910y @vintagelacerosette @thepupperino @tsuga-of-mars @callivich @bawlbrayker and everyone else!

[gplayr]

Mecha dance battles rhythm RPG Steel Century Groove announced for PC Sloth Gloss Games has announced Steel Century Groove, a rhythm RPG set in a world where mechas once used for war are now used for dance battles. It will launch for PC via Steam in 2025. Here is an ove... https://blog.gplayr.com/mecha-dance-battles-rhythm-rpg-steel-century-groove-announced-for-pc/ #Clips #GameAnnounce #PC #Rhythm #RhythmGames #RPG #Screenshots #SlothGlossGames #SteelCenturyGroove #Trailers

[modularnra40]

I think a fun thing to explore in fiction that gets sort of glossed over in the game due to the technical requirements of 'have a bunch of identical mobs to fight' is the idea that the 'same' spirit dont necessarily need to map to the same demon -- like wisdom -> pride is something we see in game, but like, wisdom could also corrupt into something like greed or gluttony (hoarding knowledge either to use for power(ie safety) or to guard jealously for shallow satisfaction, respectively), or wisdom could corrupt to wrath or sloth in a similar way as justice -> vengeance -- like if the spirit was mostly called 'wisdom' due to their /behavior/ as opposed to what actually motivates them... There's just so much fun ways to explore subtle nuance between motivation and behavior and how we label things and understand emotions and such!!!

i think a misunderstanding about spirit -> demon pipelines, when people in fandom are guessing what a particular spirit or demon’s equivalent is, is for some reason people think a spirit will turn into its opposite. that’s not how it goes, it’s still the same creature, it’s not going to swap over into the opposite of what it’s been embodying. it turns into, like, a perverse version of that virtue, or what you get when there’s “too much of a good thing”

[shoichee]

ALSO CAN I ASK FOR SOME RANDOM GOM HCS U HAVE? like just random ones u have or if u want like some toxic hcs abt them :D

I’m assuming that I can include their negative traits of their personalities as well 👀 Also including Momoi in this… lots of analyzing for this hc, so I used my brain here pls appreciate AGAIN these are all headcanons/interpretations of possible toxic hcs about them and only a few are canon

[Headcanons]

Kuroko Tetsuya

Kuroko is the hardest person to find a “negative/toxic” trait in, and it doesn’t seem like he has any

kind, understanding, hardworking, and compassionate; he’s everything a good-natured protagonist is

but he’s only like this to people/hobbies he cares about/close with; anything else he’s quite apathetic and also very passive/neutral about

the biggest hint to this is when Akashi criticizes Kuroko for cherry-picking who the GoMs should “go all out against” and who to casually toy with

and Akashi is absolutely correct

most of the series is portrayed through Kuroko’s perspective, and Akashi is the first direct outside perspective who comments on his actions/attitude

it’s obviously not that Kuroko didn’t “notice”... he clearly sees and knows what these GoMs are doing; after all, he had a conversation with Aomine about how observant he is to everything around him

of course, if you were close to him, all your opinions and issues matter to him

it’s the fact that what’s not really important to him is suddenly now important just because someone he knows is involved

just an example: if someone was advocating climate change, he has no opinion on it until someone he knows cares about the issue

in other words, he has a subtle hypocritical view on things, especially when he interacts with others

another clear negative trait could be that he’s too idealistic or perhaps naive, seeing things in a clear black-or-white picture and not necessarily a gray area

WE know, as an audience, that the GoMs honestly needed therapy and a proper adult to guide their out-of-control talents

but Kuroko, in his eyes, had viewed them as “bad” and “evil” in their ways of basketball until they changed after their respective matches

he’s probably someone who doesn’t yield to other opinions once he forms his own, and this may make him unable to consider things in other people’s perspectives

which is again, ironic: someone who doesn’t have generally a strong stance but once they do, it’s very unyielding, which further proves Akashi’s comment about Kuroko’s tendency to nitpick which to care about

a final hc about a potential flaw he might have here in a different ask!

Kise Ryota

y’all… it’s as canon as day that he has a mean side

straight from the author himself, it’s confirmed that Kise is only kind to those who he respects, and to the rest, he’s cold-hearted

in the manga, it’s very clear that he’s super judgmental on every first impression on people he meets, boxing them into categories based on the way they look, act, and speak

only when they surpass his preset expectations (low or high depends on his preliminary judgments of them) is when he opens his mind to the rest of their personality

this is a very close-minded way of thinking, and I hope I don’t need to explain why LOL

this can be interpreted as him being two-faced by the majority of the people in his school

his way of speaking can definitely be very cruel and crass, and to sensitive people, his words can easily shatter hearts

Kise’s negative/toxic traits are pretty straightforward here, so let’s move on

Midorima Shintarou

his harsh words can be considered a “negative” part of his personality, but I think it’s a lot more than just that

it’s confirmed in the series that he’s a bystander and almost always minds his own business

on one hand, one can say he’s self-driven and that he constantly strives for self-improvement

on the other, it can be interpreted as him being very dangerously ambitious and selfish, in which most actions he takes are for the sole reason of self-improvement and not for altruistic reasons

for example, when he helped Kuroko and Kagami in the training camp, it was under the reasoning that them becoming stronger would be a good challenge for himself to test and learn

that’s not to say that he can’t have friends, but most friendships he’s built are with capable people who can potentially provide him with some new beneficial skill/goal to strive towards

after all, he’s only learned to trust Takao as a friend only after seeing him as someone capable

because he’s so focused on himself, he’s extremely likely to turn a blind eye to injustice, most also likely to use Oha Asa to justify their “misfortunes” as he continues on his day

he’s not cold-hearted, but altruism comes by Midorima a lot rarer than the average person

now, we know that his Oha Asa aspect is used to balance his serious side as the “comedic side” of him, but if we really think about it, his obsessions with the horoscopes could be a huge obstacle in the future, where he may refuse to listen/depend on others in favor of his own intuition and the stars; after all, no one knows everything, and depending on the stars as one’s next source of advice and guidance isn’t a sound decision to commit themselves to

he seems like the person who overthinks and jumps to conclusions when it comes to social situations, but instead of confronting the person, he turns to fate and fortune if Takao isn’t near to help

Aomine Daiki

I wouldn’t be surprised if Aomine had a skewed sense of beauty standards from all those magazines he consumed and from being around Momoi for the majority of his life

of course anyone can distinguish pieces of media from reality, but during the most impressionable years of life, without experiencing other types of people and physiques, he would have limited knowledge on what “beauty” is and whatnot

this probably would be more of a problem in his adolescence than adult

a very given negative trait is his short temper plus his tendency to turn to physical violence when someone nags him to a certain point, seen with how he’s treated Wakamatsu in the beginning (though this seems to almost disappear by the end of the series)

what I’ve noticed in every scene he’s in, is that everything seems to revolve around him and his hobbies of basketball and Japanese idols

what I mean is that everytime we see Aomine, it’s always Momoi approaching to Aomine or just him always being the center of attention; never once has he approached Momoi for anything and it’s always been the other way around

in other words, people have to cater to him in order to get along with him/be in good graces (additional example: Imayoshi letting him do as he pleases to get him to be cooperative and participate in the games)

we’ve actually never seen Momoi’s hobbies outside of being a manager for her basketball teams and just anything basketball-related

he can be quite apathetic, choosing to only pay attention and try in things he’s interested in… which is basketball and those magazines

he seems to mature in the Last Game though, so I’m not quite sure to what extent these headcanons would apply to older Aomine (these also don’t really apply to Puremine)

Momoi Satsuki

the author probably also included this type of anime trope as comedy, but belittling another female for her body is definitely a no-go in reality; I feel like this is something most people gloss over really lightly

her body comments on Riko are actually what made me skeptical of her character at first before the show really shows her entire personality

that being said, it seems that she always takes the opportunity to look down on other girls (especially to those she is a stranger to) as a sort of “competition” when there’s boys around

definitely at certain moments, she screams a “pick-me girl” type of person (real phenomenon, you can search this up!)

while Kuroko doesn’t seem to actively mind this, I think she also has no good sense of boundaries and what’s considered appropriate touch and consent; people can chalk this up to “oh it’s just infatuation,” but this definitely isn’t okay if we really think about this

her life also seems to revolve around either Aomine or Kuroko, and based from that, I’d feel like she’d have a difficult time forming her own identity/life separate from her “manager life,” especially once she graduates from Touou

can definitely be interpreted as too clingy at certain moments, while others may think it’s her way of showing that she cares

Murasakibara Atsushi

most people would chalk up Murasakibara as “lazy,” and on the surface level, it does appear to look that way…

I think his true negative trait is that he has a lack of intrinsic motivations to drive him to do things

it’s different from being lazy; someone can be lazy while still having a goal, and certainly someone can be lazy while they’re motivated by thoughts of “I want to learn more,” “I want to get stronger,” etc. (you guys, it’s me right now in college)

and he doesn’t have that

part of this was contributed to the fact that he’s already so gifted with genetics and thus, there’s never been a goal for him to have to work towards to when he’s already at the top

he doesn’t actively seek out, and while that may be a characteristic of sloth, it’s not exactly right either

he willingly does things if people around him give him the motivations/reasons to do so; a person of sloth wouldn’t do anything even with all the motivations and goals handed right to their face

snacks/food are examples of extrinsic motivations that fuel him to carry on daily life

Himuro is always the main motivator for Murasakibara to come out and watch matches, and he also does whatever Akashi orders in both Teiko and present days // a person who can give the giant the motivation to do tasks would get along with him the most

searching out for a challenge against his basketball skills is something that’s never crossed his mind

why? he grew to be like the way he is because of the lack of results from his “search” of a challenge throughout his games

again, it’s only when Murasakibara gets handed a silver-platter of a challenge, Jason Silver, that actively gets him pumped up and raring to go

as such, Murasakibara is equivalent to a rusty machine, extremely difficult to start up and find compatibility with, but very powerful and efficient once he finds that spark

Murasakibara finding any partner or friend in the future would be extremely difficult because he ticks a different tune from the rest

Akashi Seijuro

his entire Bokushi side was a giant-ass red flag for very obvious reasons LOL anyways, moving on…

it’s difficult to pinpoint a negative characteristic for Oreshi because he’s the pinnacle of a gentleman character… but that technically is also his negative trait

for him to maintain that perfect image for himself and others, he has always carried himself in such a way that doesn’t allow for errors or expressions of “weakness”

thus, bottling up his frustrations and emotions to the point of no return is something very familiar to Akashi, and I’d feel like Bokushi is the result of his overflowing emotions left unchecked in the first place

I also predict that if Akashi continues to carry himself without letting himself wind down and feel emotions on the spot rather than locking it up inside him, a day will come when he splits into two halves again with a “new” Bokushi to deal with his current life (and let the current Oreshi take a backseat in his psyche to take a break from the turmoil)

also will tend to overwork himself to manage people’s expectations as well as his own, and he’s not one to depend on people not because he sees them as inferior or incapable, but because he’s doing this out of habit from being in positions of authority and responsibility for much of his life

and so, he may tend to hide important things or just not speak about his problems in general to those close to him because he feels like he can do it all himself and spare everyone the work and stress associated with them (a leader mentality)

throughout the majority of his life being calm and calculated, his emotions would definitely escape from him in forms of uncontrollable lashes of anger… before he would realize what he’s done… that is, assuming that another Bokushi hasn’t form within his subconscious yet

[radiorenjun]

twisted strings || lee donghyuck

➶ pairing: lee donghyuck x reader

➶ genre: angst. angst. JUST ANGST. twisted string soulmate!au, non-idol!au

➶ word count: 3.1k

➶ synopsis: you and donghyuck were one of the rare soulmate couples unlucky enough to be cursed by your own string

➶ warnings: y/n and donghyuck have somewhat of a toxic relationship, mentions of surgery, injuries, drinking, arguments, hyuck being selfish, character death!

➶ a/n: I am not romanticizing or support toxic relationships. This is purely fictional and if you do not like such topics, kindly move on. Have a good day. 

➶ based on the song 'Evelyn, Evelyn' by Evelyn Evelyn

“Y/N.” 

“Donghyuck.” 

God makes mistakes sometimes. One of the greatest mistakes was the soulmate system. It is often believed that if you meet your soulmate before the age of 14, you were set for a doomed relationship. Unfortunately for you and Lee Donghyuck, you found each other when you both were only 5 years old.  Upon meeting each other for the first time, the string tied to your pinkies had intertwined the both of your hands together, making it impossible for the two of you to physically separate.

The day you met Donghyuck was considerably one of the worst moments of your life. You were both trapped in each other's special bond. The string that was supposed to connect the two of you together became a cage, one that you could not get out of until death tears you apart. Soulmates were supposed to love each other but the twisted string binding the two of you together only made you desire for freedom even more.

“Why do we bother to stay?”

“Why are you running away?” 

You two were soulmates after all. The twisted string was a rare phenomenon that only happens to one in 50 million people around the world. You’ve been sticking to each other for so long, you can’t stand being with each other considering you couldn’t have your own privacy anymore. When your parents took you to the doctor back when you were younger, the doctor suggested surgery to remove the bond.

But the risk was too high. Removing your string could result in one of you dying, your parents didn’t want you to go through with it. But as you grow older into your teenage years, your relationship becomes even more unhealthy. Donghyuck was beginning to think the risk of getting the surgery was worth it. While you, on the other hand, all you wanted was to get along with Donghyuck. You didn’t want to run away from your relationship, you wanted to fix it. But unfortunately, Donghyuck didn’t have the same mindset.

“Don’t you feel like severing?”

“Everything’s just come together at last.” 

“We’re broken, why would you want to play?”

Donghyuck felt like this life was all just God’s game. An entertainment for him. He couldn’t bear the thought of living by your side at every second of the day, but yet again, you would always turn down his offer of getting the surgery. You were scared. He was too. You both wanted to be happy. Donghyuck felt like the time you spend alone with each other was a complete waste, he rather used his time to do other things like developing talents and doing things he used to enjoy like playing soccer or baking cookies with his mother.

You, however, felt like you should be more grateful for this opportunity. You’ve heard a countless amount of stories about those who lost their soulmates before they could meet them or those who never found their soulmate. You didn’t like the toxicity your relationship holds, but you couldn’t help but hope that maybe one day that things would change between the two of you.

After all, at some point in your lives. There was a time when the two of you actually fell in love with each other. 

At least, that’s what you want to believe. 

“We grew up closer than most”

“Closer than anything”

When you were younger, your foolish selves believed that the two of you would get through living a happy life living by each other’s sides for the rest of time. But of course, those are just nonsensical ramblings of young children. Nothing good lasts forever. You’d like to believe that Donghyuck loved you at some point in your lives, just like you loved him. Even if that love is no more, you couldn’t help but hope.

Life was playing an amusing game with the two of you. The longer you both spend time with each other, the more broken your relationship becomes. The more broken your relationship becomes, the stronger Donghyuck’s urge to cut you off from his life becomes. And as more time goes on, you start to think if things would be better if you get the surgery. If one of you dies, at least one of you will have a chance of living a happier life, right?

“Shared our beds”

“But wore different clothes”

Your parents didn’t know what to do when you first met. When you were younger they would arrange an organized schedule of who gets the two of you in their home for the week like a child with divorced parents. It wasn’t like your parents didn’t like you being together like this. Your parents treated Donghyuck as their own son and his parents treated you as if you were their own daughter. But you both knew that deep down, they’d like to have their own child back without their soulmates sticking to them like some kind of weird sloth.

“Talked about everything”

“Spoke about so many things”

You spent years of your life together talking about anything and everything in an attempt to heal your relationship despite the fact that you two knew that it was getting you nowhere. You often asked questions like “what shall we wear tonight?” or “what shall we do today?” 

“Can we go ice skating?”

“But we just did that yesterday”

You were both different people with different personalities and different interests. Unlike Donghyuck, you had thrown away your hopes of ever achieving those big dreams of yours a long long time ago, but always felt nice to dream of what you could be if you weren’t so hopeless. 

“Should we be firemen?”   

“Can we be astronauts?”

You were often looked down upon by your classmates when you were still in elementary school. The teachers would always scold them for constantly making fun of your intertwined hands being stuck together by the string. They would always tell your classmates to be nice and to invite the two of you to play with them.  But alas, children are children. They don’t understand what words and actions could do to someone else.

Often, the teachers would make you join in on their little game of tag or hide and seek. It was quite difficult for the both of you to participate, it wasn’t like the two of you were telepathic. You constantly spend the first few seconds arguing where to go or where to hide which ends the two of you being caught before you could even have a chance to actually have fun. And eventually, your classmates would ignore your presence if the two of you participated.

“What if they find us?” you asked one day while playing hide and seek with your peers, crouching down to ensure that your body is safely hidden. Donghyuck lets out a small scoff, outstretching his legs as he leaned his back against the wall with a heavy sigh before looking down at your intertwined bond. “They’re not looking anyway,” he shook his head. 

These days, your conversations were always the same. Dull and monotonous. Filled with hopelessness and despair. Eyes filled with exhaustion and distress. Faces void of emotion as you both stared at the dull grey ceiling. 

“Y/n.” 

 “Donghyuck.”

“Why do we bother to stay?”

“Why are you running away?”

“Don’t you feel like severing?”

“Everything’s just come together at last”

“We’re broken, why would you want to play?”

“Fill my glass,” Donghyuck ordered, making you reach your hand out to fill his glass with wine. At the age of nineteen, the love between the two of you was nonexistent. You both had to deal with the excruciating truth that you’re going to be stuck together forever. “Why are we weeping?” you muttered under your breath as you slumped against the sofa beside him. Donghyuck ignored you as he sipped his drink with an annoyed roll of his eyes.

“At your side”

“I feel like a ghost” 

You never knew about this. But Donghyuck was always the one to wake up first every morning. And every morning, he couldn’t help but turn over to stare at you as you sleep. Knowing how creepy it is, Donghyuck couldn’t help but admire your content expression. The way your eyelashes hovered over your skin, the way your lips part slightly. He would never tell this to your face. But he loved waking up to see the innocence glossing over your sleeping state.

Despite the many arguments you two get into with each other on a daily basis, it felt nice to lay down in silence with the comforting thought of the two of you having your own peaceful moments every morning. But of course, as soon as you wake up, Donghyuck is back to looking at you as if you were the bane of his existence. 

In retrospect, Donghyuck viewed you as someone who needs to get off of his back. Quite literally. He wanted you to let go of him, he wanted to live his own life where he doesn’t have to put up with you being constantly beside him. He knew you were his soulmate, but he didn’t know if he loved you or hated you. All he knows is that he just wants you to leave him be and have his privacy.

Everyday was just the same. There was nothing new to the two of you. Your days of living with each other always goes by the same questions over and over again.

“What shall we wear tonight?”

“What shall we eat today?”

“Do you think we’ll get married someday?” you asked him one day, looking at the loving couple across the street from you as you both stood in front of the bus stop side by side with equally emotionless expressions. Donghyuck took a small glance at you, unsurprisingly you were saying it with a hopeless expression. Why did you have to ask such a question when you know very well what the answer was going to be?

“We discussed this yesterday,” Donghyuck replied shortly, keeping his eyes on the empty road as people continued to walk past you. His eyes wandered to those who walked alone with hands in their pockets. Then his eyes wandered to those holding hands with their soulmates, gazing lovingly at them as if they were the brightest star in their eyes. Donghyuck then looked back at you, his half-lidded eyes scanning your broken figure that mirrored his own. Was he willing to marry someone as broken as he is?

“Should we be movie stars?” 

“Will we be millionaires?”

But can someone broken still talk about dreams as if they still have hope in their lives? Donghyuck never knew what’s the point in these wishful conversations. It was just hurting the both of you even more as time went by. You knew conversations about the things you know you’ll never be was just getting your hopes up. But life seemed too dim for the both of you, you couldn’t help but hold onto these late night conversations as if it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“I want to be famous.”

“They’re watching us anyway.”

Donghyuck had always wanted to be a singer since he was a child. He loved to sing and dance before he met you. His parents were ready to support him in his dreams, his future was bright as heaven’s gate when he realised he had actual potential of being a star. But that can’t happen. Not with you by his side.

A part of you thought that the reason Donghyuck had always hated you was because you ripped him away from his dreams and his own privacy. You couldn’t blame him for being angry at you. But you knew that deep down, he was also at fault, too. If the two of you hadn’t met all those years ago, you’d probably be in a much healthier and happier place by now. 

You both would probably be in a better place by now if fate hadn’t decided to let you meet that day.

“We grew up so very close.”

“A parasite needs a host,” Donghyuck spat at you, venom and malice lacing his tone as he pushed away his plate of food aggressively across the table. It was another one of those arguments. You two were getting sick of each other. You were at a breaking point. Donghyuck was discussing about getting the surgery again and as usual, he snaps at you harshly whenever you decline the offer. But you couldn’t help but retort back at his snarl.

“I’m only trying to do what is best for us!”

“Well I never wanted this. I never asked for this. All that I want is some time to myself!”  

“Donghyuck…”

“Just get away from me! Please just stop touching me! You’re always trying to be somebody else!”

Donghyuck believed that deep down you were just putting up a fake act. He believed that all this talk about you not getting the surgery for the sake of the both of your safety was all just buffoonery. He thought that you just want to see him live a miserable life along your side for the rest of your lives. He views you as some kind of parasite sticking onto his body. 

He was too blinded by selfishness to see the good side in this situation you were both stuck in.

“I just realise I’m not alone.”

You were afraid. If you took the surgery, you were afraid that Donghyuck was going to die instead of you. He may not like you, but you didn’t want to live with the overwhelming burden that you killed your own soulmate, even if it wasn’t your idea to do the surgery. You didn’t want to live without Donghyuck either. You wanted someone to love. Unfortunately for you, Donghyuck didn’t want the same thing.

“Well you’re only scared of me.”

“But you never cared for me!”

“Why don’t you let me free?”

“Cause you never dared to be!”

 Spewing insults and cries back and forth was all the only thing you’ve been doing the past couple of years. You were both tired. Tired of living like this. Living in misery and despair. You knew you weren’t going to be happy in this life, but you also knew you didn’t want to sacrifice Donghyuck just because he wanted it. In Donghyuck’s mind, all there is to think about was how life would be so easier if you cut the damn string off of your body. How everyone would be much happier if you just agreed to the surgery.

“Cause you never listen, you’re always insisting!”

“Just stop reminiscing!” ¦¦ “I’m just reminiscing!”

“I feel something missing.”

“I just want you here with me.” ¦¦ “I just want my privacy.”

“God, can’t we just get along!?” ¦¦ “God, won’t you leave me alone?!”

That was it. That was your breaking point. 

You finally agreed to the surgery without hesitation, your eyes no longer held a single ounce of light and hope in them as you signed the papers willingly. Donghyuck couldn’t say anything else to you either. He finally got you to sign the papers and do the surgery but why didn’t he feel as ecstatic as he should be? Why was his heart still so empty? Why couldn’t he find the enthusiasm in him as you both got into your robes, preparing for the surgery.

You haven’t spared the slightest glance at him since the argument you two had the other night. But then again, why would you? You finally agreed to signing either yours or Donghyuck’s life to death, there was no need for you to feel anything about it. You prayed to God that Donghyuck would be the one to survive, no matter how bad he has treated you in almost the past two decades, you still prayed for his survival.

“Y/n.”

“Donghyuck.”

The doctors placed masks over your mouths, informing you that they were going to start the anesthesia with a concentrated expression on their face. Donghyuck looks over to you to give you one last look, his eyes becoming half-lidded when he sees your content face resting right beside him. The way your eyes slowly shut when the gas kicked in, he practically saw your hopeless pupils shining before his own eyes started to get droopy. For once in years, he squeezed your hand encouragingly in his, feeling the string tighten around your body as he does. 

“Y/n.” 

“Donghyuck.”

He felt your hand squeeze back softly, making his heart flutter for the first time in ages before he finally succumbs into a deep sleep. 

“Y/n.”

“Donghyuck.”

As Donghyuck opens his eyes, he finds himself in a hospital room, A heart monitor placed right beside him, beeping loudly to signal the calming beating of his heart. He sat up slightly, his body feeling weak and sore. He examined his body, stitches and gauze were everywhere and all around his arms. The strings that he had gotten used to seeing wrapped around his body were nowhere in sight. 

It worked. The surgery worked. 

“Y/n.”

He was no longer stuck to your body anymore. He was finally able to live his life as freely as he wanted. He could hardly believe his own eyes as he pressed both of his palms against his face, pinching himself to see if this was just some kind of weird dream. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. God, when was the last time he smiled like this.

He couldn’t wait to do the things he’s always wanted to do. He couldn’t wait to go home to his parents and see the baffled looks on their faces once they see him as a whole happy person again. He couldn’t wait to tell all his friends that he could finally drink with them without you getting on his back for drinking too much- 

Wait. You. Where were you? 

“Y/n.”

His head shot up, looking around to see if you were in the same room as he was. His heart raced when he saw the empty bed next to his. Have you gone home without him? Or did you wake up way earlier than he did? Why didn’t you wait for him to wake up? Where have you gone? Why weren’t you right next to him? He was supposed to be the first one to wake up to see the peaceful expression on your sleeping face. He was supposed to be the first one to tell you that this surgery would be the best decision you two have ever made.

The clipboard filled with data the doctor left on the table beside him had all the answers to his question. Donghyuck used a weak hand to grab the papers and set them on his lap, carefully picking each and every one of them up, his eyes quickly scanning the letters printed onto it. From what he can conclude, your soulmate string was cut off and donated to science. The surgery took about 4-5 hours and he had been resting for about two days.

He also concluded that you had died in the middle of surgery. 

“Y/n.”

“Y/n.”

“...”

“Why didn’t we try to stay?”

“You wanted to keep running away.”

“Why did we agree to severing?”

“Everything’s over at last.”

“I’m broken. Let’s play this game again.”

if you haven’t noticed. Hyuck is in bold. Y/n is in italic. Both is both. 

This was a new writing style I wanted to try out and it’s not my best work but I think it’s pretty good enough to post.

[ashbelero]

Obey Me!

~Theology Corner 2

✨Seven Princes✨

You guys seemed to really enjoy my last theology exploration into Obey Me! So I thought maybe I’d do a little more. Part 1 - https://otomeman.tumblr.com/post/618068151319543808/obey-me-theology-corner-so-we-already-know

First, why am I into theology/what qualifies me to talk about it? Not a lot. My dad’s a pastor but I don’t practice, and a lot of this comes from Catholic canon, which I’m also not associated with. But I find the whole thing fascinating and I’ve read a lot about it because quite frankly, this shit is an aesthetic. Anyway, let’s move on to deep dive #2.

We’re all very familiar with the seven brothers of the Devildom and the story that says they were angels who fell from heaven (except Satan who is made of rage and angst). Now, that IS true about Lucifer, the eldest... But I found myself wondering why the others were chosen for that role. Had Beelzebub ever been an angel in church canon? Why were these demons chosen for the seven seats out of hundreds of others? Was it just because they had cool names? And were they really associated with their respective capital sins?

Let’s start with the idea of the seven brothers first. Yes, there are seven demons considered to be the seven Princes of Hell. Specifically, the model that Obey Me! uses is from classifications of demons written in the 16th century.

Around this time period, theologists were very into the idea of creating a hierarchy of demons in hell, with most agreeing that Lucifer is definitely their leader. Originally, I thought they had gone slightly off of the text The Lanterne of Light, written in the early 15th century, which is among the first that names the princes of hell and their associated sins. The Lanterne’s princes are:

Lucifer (Pride)

Beelzebub (Envy)

Satan (Wrath)

Abaddon (Sloth)

Mammon (Greed)

Belphegor (Gluttony)

Asmodeus (Lust)

Seeing this, my first thought was that they’d taken this model and worked off of that. We can see some of them (Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, and Asmodeus) are in line with the game, but Beelzebub and Belphegor have different sins associated with them, and Abaddon is nowhere to be seen.

But after further digging, we find that there’s a later, although apparently less-used, text written in 1589 by Peter Binsfeld, a German bishop and witch hunter (badass, but he was actually kind of nuts). Binsfeld’s classification, known as The Princes of Hell, not only names the seven that we know but also the same sins they’re written with, in this order:

Lucifer (Pride)

Mammon (Greed)

Asmodeus (Lust)

Leviathan (Envy)

Beelzebub (Gluttony)

Satan (Wrath)

Belphegor (Sloth)

Okay, so this is clearly the source material they used - the only slight difference is the brothers’ birth order/seat order. Interestingly enough, this also seems to be the material used in Supernatural season 3 and on (which I haven’t seen). Could the developers have picked it up from there? It’s entirely possible.

Now what does Binsfeld’s classification say about the demons, and were any of them ever considered angels at some point?

First of all, the demons were not just representative of their respective sins, but also the primary source of temptation to those sins. Their entire job is to tempt humans and get their souls into hell. That doesn’t necessarily seem to be a concern to the Obey Me! crew, but then again... we are the ones coming back to play this game every day. Maybe they’re on to something after all.

Now we’ll go one by one through how the Princes of Hell are represented. This is a bit more difficult because not only are translations of Binsfeld’s work rare, but it’s hard to track down the original texts at all. Some of this is speculation, some is based on similar writings of the time.

- Lucifer -

Lucifer is the easiest to find info on, and the one who most canons seem to agree on. Some biblical texts use Lucifer as another word for Satan or the Devil, but considering Satan is a separate entity in Binsfeld’s text, we can assume that’s not the case here. I’m not gonna go into history or origins at the moment; that a story for another day. But the parallels between the game and mythos are pretty basic: Lucifer was the first angel to fall from heaven after attempting to restructure power, and is now the ruler of all demons in hell. This is close to our lore, with the only difference being that Lucifer actually serves Diavolo - but there can’t be any doubt who’s in charge among the brothers.

- Mammon -

Mammon is an interesting demon in that he wasn’t personified as an actual demon until much later in theological history; the word “mammon” simply means money or wealth. I’d love to go further into mentions of Mammon as a concept and sin in the bible, both old and new testament, but let’s stick to this for now. However, we can find stories that describe Mammon as a fallen angel - the reason for his fall being his obsession with the gold paving Heaven’s streets over his love of God. As a demon, he tempted humans to sin through promises of wealth. Our Mammon doesn’t seem to be very good at that.

- Asmodeus -

Asmodeus, or Asmodai in some translations, was almost always a demon of lust in Judeo-Christian theology, and featured prominently in the stories of Tobit and Solomon - Ooh, sound familiar? We’re not going into Solomon’s connection to the game today, but later. It’s not altogether clear how Asmodeus tempted humans to sin (aside from a lot of interrupting weddings by killing the groom), but later depictions show him as a beautiful young man with a limp... this limp being caused by the fact that one of his legs is a rooster’s. (Yeah. Can you imagine? I assume our Asmo got this fixed up somehow.) He’s only ever mentioned as being an angel once, however - by Pope Gregory in the 6th century. There’s no other implication that he was ever fallen. So that’s an interesting note.

- Leviathan -

The most interesting thing to me in Leviathan’s appearances is that the gigantic sea-dwelling demon is often considered not only the water parallel to the land-dwelling Behemoth, but also... female. But while this is in a number of depictions, there’s also hundreds of others. Leviathan was a figure in many religions, although these all seem to simply point towards the sea serpent rather than the demon or Prince of Hell. In catholic theology, he was said to pose a threat to all of God’s creation by devouring it, or swallowing it up in the waters of chaos. It wasn’t until the 13th century that Leviathan was given the role as a demon of envy by St. Thomas Aquinas; this was the version used by Binsfeld, placing Leviathan in charge of punishing the envious.

- Beelzebub -

Beelzebub is another one whose lore is pretty expansive, known by many names and titles. He was commonly associated with disease, though some biblical references to him as a Philistine god say that his title as Lord of the Flies was because he kept the flies away from the sacrifices laid out for him. He’s incredibly prominent in theology and tends to take on the roles of many other demons depending on the text, even being synonymous with Lucifer, Satan, and Mammon at times. Binsfeld’s classification is the first and one of few that assigns him to gluttony, where in others he represented envy or pride more commonly. The idea of him being a fallen angel seems to originate from the Testament of Solomon, but this also associates him with the morning star and appears to be another that interchanges him with Lucifer.

- Satan -

Fittingly, there is a massive amount of overlap between Satan and Lucifer in theological records. Both are described as a fallen angel that rebelled against God and subsequently was cast into hell to rule there in numerous different records. But there’s a lot more references to Satan in the bible than there are to Lucifer - possibly because satan was simply a Hebrew word meaning “accuser” or “adversary”, where ha-satan was more of a definite article to refer to the demon prince himself. In Christian translations, these were usually merged into one. Surprisingly, it’s hard to find any specific descriptions of Satan as a prince of hell; at the time of Binsfeld’s writings, he was mostly viewed as an object of witchcraft, a generalized devil, and often a subject of mockery in a good deal of entertainment media. Not hard to understand why he’d be associated with wrath in this case, as he was by many other classifications.

- Belphegor -

Belphegor’s lore is all over the place. He’s originally described as a demon who seduces people to him by suggesting ideas for inventions to get rich off of, though Binsfeld writes of him as one who tempts with laziness. His etymology is similar to Beelzebub’s, sometimes written as Beelphegor, roughly translated to “Lord of the Gap/Opening”, though it’s not abundantly clear exactly what this title means. It’s possibly because of this naming connection that he and Beel were written as twins. He’s also another one of the princes who was commonly depicted as a beautiful young woman when he appeared in the human world. Looking into beliefs around Belphegor outside of Christian theology turns up some... interesting details, but we’ll gloss over those for now. In a rare depiction of him as a prominent figure of hell, he was sent out to the human world by Lucifer to confirm whether or not it was possible for humans to live in married happiness; ultimately, Belphegor decided this was a groundless rumor. This could be something referenced in his hatred of humans in the game.

So that’s what we know about the brothers based off of one of the more obvious source materials for Obey Me! In future Theology Corners, we’ll explore the demons as depicted in the Testament of Solomon and what the King of Israel has to do with our highly suspicious bishie sorcerer.

[stutterfly]

Love Bytes 06 | Boolean Logic  | KNJ (M)

Last time on Love Bytes 05: Your friends have good intentions when eavesdropping on your first tinder date. When things don’t go exactly as you imagined, there’s comfort to be found elsewhere. A charming gesture takes your breath away and you find yourself dangerously close to crossing a line you’d never thought of before.

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Word Count: 12.8K

Series: Love Bytes (6/?)

Genre: F2L, fluff, humor, SLOW BURN, friendship feels, ANGST! pining, sexual tension, smut, Bestfriends!au, CollegeProjessor!Namjoon, S O F T Namjoon, did i mention slow burn??? :)

CW: anxiety, panic attacks, some negative self-talk, dirty talk, teasing, grinding, dry-humping

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader, brot7 masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

Do not repost.

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It’s been twenty minutes since Seokjin barged into your apartment and started listing all the things you did wrong on your date. You’d be mortified if you hadn’t already dealt with Yoongi earlier in the evening, telling you much of the same. He’d already covered the basics of looking at your date and given you a touching pep talk about knowing your worth. You’d be double mortified if not for the fact that you’re slightly distracted.

Not even thirty seconds before Jin walked in, you’d willingly put Namjoon in a position to grope your tits and it’s been on a relentless loop that surfaces between every other word Jin has to say. Kim Namjoon. Dorky professor? Firewall enforcer? Clumsy bestie? Thorn in your goddamn side? It’s only consuming every bit of brainpower as you wordlessly nod along to Jin’s lecture about the importance of posture in showcasing one’s demeanor.

Namjoon has been sitting across the room with a plate of half-eaten food before him, growing more amused by the tale Jin spins of your disastrous behaviors. He’s blowing everything way out of proportion, but you can’t muster the energy to fight him on it, not when the gears are grinding so hard to form a solid reasoning behind your earlier actions. But every time your eyes gloss over and you replay the scene in your mind, your stomach forms knots that cause you to repeatedly cross your legs over one another. You’ve done it at least three times now and both men have definitely noticed so you’re consciously fighting the urge to repeat the action.

Jin attributes it to your fidgety nature, tying it back to the way you had squirmed under the scrutiny of your date. “Y/N, I don’t think you’re really getting it. I need you to pretend we’re on a date. Here. Namjoon, be the observer.”

“Gladly,” Namjoon replies, happily slurping up a mess of noodles and fixing his gaze on your reaction.

You don’t even bother wasting a glance on the man on the floor as Jin angles his body towards you. He folds a leg over his lap, plants an elbow on the back of the sofa and rests his cheek on his palm as he leans towards you. The famous panty-dropping smoulder makes an appearance and you can’t help but feel a bit flustered by the intensity he brings to the charade. Your shoulders raise like they might shield you from the attack of such a gorgeous face. “Tell me about yourself, Y/N.”

This is torture.

You drum your fingertips on your thighs and look down at them briefly before remembering your conversation with Yoongi. Nervous eyes tear themselves away from the stubble coming in on your kneecap, forcing you to focus on the piercing gaze of Seokjin.

“Well…” you begin, fully intending to let this play out, but freeze once your eyes land on his face. “Why do you look angry? I can’t talk to you when you look like that.”

“What do you mean? Do I really look angry to you?” Jin’s brow sinks even lower towards the bridge of his nose.

Stifling a giggle, you nod and smack your lips. “It’s good practice if I ever go on a date with grumpy cat. So cute, yet so grumpy.”

You boop him on the nose and he swats your hand away. “Are you going to tell me about yourself or continue to dishonor the memory of grumpy cat?”

A sigh passes your lips. “I don’t know what to say,” you finally admit with a wince. “My life is so boring. Like, what am I supposed to say? Hi, I’m Y/N. I work on people’s computers all day and answer boring emails and support calls. In my free time I like getting drunk and laughing at videos of cats falling off of things, playing video games with friends --most of which are men by the way, is that cool?-- and going for walks at sunset.” You pause and let him take that in. “Ooh, or should I be like every generic profile I’ve seen? I like going on adventures! Hanging with friends! Living my best life. I’m an old soul. Here for a good time, not a long time! EL OH EL hit me up on Snapchat.”

The animated nature of your features quickly fades as you slump against the cushions. “I mean and here I thought I was boring as fuck. But Chul comes along and actually proves to me that I can be topped. And not in the yummy dom way.”

Namjoon chokes on a piece of pork and smacks his chest a few times, successfully dislodging it from the back of his throat.

Jin curiously roams his eyes across your face, flickering back and forth between your eyes and lips. “Ah, so... you prefer to be the sub?”

A heat rises to your cheeks and you know answering is a trap, but the longer his question hangs in the air the more flustered you become. “Are-Are you kidding? Like I’m gonna be the sub. You know I have to control everything.”

Lies are easier to tell when they’re coated with a layer of truth, no matter how thin that layer may be.

“True.” Namjoon swallows, the remnants of his cough sputtering from his mouth.

Jin considers your answer for a moment and grins, flashing you his pearly whites. “So you dom then? What’s that like?”

The other man in the room dribbles water onto his shirt at the question. He’s about ready to give up on breathing altogether. Jin knows it, too. That’s what makes this game so much fun.

You drag your teeth across your lip, trying not to think about the implication that Jin is also not a dom. “So! Enough about me. Tell me about yourself, Jin.”

With that, Seokjin snaps his fingers and points at you. “Ding ding ding! We have a winner! People love to talk about themselves. If you’re out of ideas on what to talk about, ask your date something about himself based on whatever random information you have. Give him a chance to impress you. Take me, for example. I am the head chef at Heart & Seoul, where I give everyone a taste of my heart … and soul. Everyone who has ever tried my food says it reminds them of home. You should come by sometime. I’ll make a plate special for you, courtesy of the handsome god of cookery.”

You roll your eyes. “Well, that’s certainly a statement.”

“Ask me about my food!” he prods, nudging you with his elbow. “Don’t you want to know what kind of plate I’d make for you?”

“Jin, I already know your food is good. I don’t need to ask--”

“It’s Barbe-cute,” he blurts, clearly proud of himself.

“You’re so…” You try to finish the thought but start laughing as he breaks into his own windshield-wiper cackle. A defeated half sigh, half grumble follows the trail where your laughter leaves off. “I just feel like this is the worst part, you know? Trying to explain to people who I am and why I matter. It’s like, on one hand, I don’t care! This is awful! And I don’t have to prove anything to anyone. But then… on the other hand… What if they don’t like me? Like Chul? Chul made up his mind the moment he saw me in person. He didn’t like me and I don’t know that there’s anything I could do to change that. I feel so stupid! ‘Cause I’m like, bro, didn’t you see my photos? Didn’t you look at my profile? Like why you gotta be so judgy when we talked all day?”

The man on the couch next to you uses his large hands to anchor the wrists that you’ve unconsciously been waving around during your tirade. “Okay see, this is what I’m talking about. You need to slow down and stop waving your arms whenever you speak. Imagine you’re a sloth. Slooow motions.” He uses his grip to slowly push you back against the cushion. “Relax.”

You puff air out of your lips indignantly. “Jin, I can’t. I’m not wired like a sloth. I’m more of a...a...” You shake your head, unable to find the word you’re searching for.

“Hummingbird,” Namjoon chimes in quietly, rapidly flapping his fingers up and down to mock you.

Jin laughs at the comparison, pushing you back against the seat when you begin to rise. “Oh, little hummingbird. Sit. Stay.”

Your brow furrows and a pout stains your lips as you comply, rigid shoulders resting flush against the couch.

“Good girl,” Namjoon adds with a snicker.

Ignoring the excitement stirring in your belly at the words, you narrow your eyes at him and he clutches his heart. “Oh wow if looks could kill…”

You finally sigh, dragging your hands down your face. “Jin, I get it. I suck at everything.”

“Oh don’t start that,” he scowls, jabbing your knees with a bony finger. “You’re perfectly fine. You may be a mess but you’re actually a very adorable mess.”

“Fuck off.” You wriggle away from his touch, grimacing at the nod of agreement Namjoon sends your way. “Both of you.”

“I mean it.” Jin laughs between words. “You are a delight, Y/N. Just because you have things you need to work on doesn’t make that any less true. And I'm only telling you that you need to work on these things because you are my dear, dear friend. I want to see you succeed and live your best life." He cocks his head to one side and gives Namjoon a pointed look while you're distractedly glowering. "Especially if you're dating another mess of a human, maybe someone even worse than you. Someone has to have manners. You can't both be terrible at everything."

Jin's eyes snap back to your face as he becomes the focus of your deadpan stare. "Thanks for the pep talk.”

A hand clasps your shoulder and the weight of his arm drapes across the expanse of your back. He uses his grip as leverage to press you against his torso as he scoots closer to you. "Oh, it's okay. You just have to stop trying to knock your date out. Just try to focus on that one thing for your next one okay?”

“I kind of don’t want a next one,” you grumble, allowing your cheek to fall against his collarbone. “Not if it has to feel this bad after every time.”

Wisps of his hair tickle the side of your face as he shakes his head close to yours and tightens the hug. “You don’t give up! You can’t give up! Trust me when I say the next will be better!”

You hum a doubtful note against the fabric of his shirt and push him towards the opposite end of the couch. “If you say so.”

“I know so,” he replies matter-of-factly, catching the antsy circles the chopsticks in Namjoon’s hand are drawing in the noodles left on his plate.

Just like that he begins to feel guilty. There’s something going on here, and he can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s no doubt in his mind that he truly walked in on something he wishes he hadn’t. They’ve all been waiting for him to make a move and now it’s possible that he’s trying. Today was a dud but one thing is certain: it would be so sad to see him lose you to a stranger because he’s too scared to elicit change. Namjoon isn’t going to outright ask him to leave, but it’s written all over his face. Maybe it’s time to let whatever developments have obviously been happening between you two continue.

With a loud sigh and stretch, Seokjin rises from the cushions and makes his way to the door. “Well, I think I’ve made my point. I should get going though. Don’t let this experience bother you too much.”

You spring from the couch and catch the door as he opens it. “I’m fine. Really.”

He shoots you a questioning look but you pull him into a quick hug that allays most of the tension within it. Namjoon unfolds his legs and stands as you exchange goodbyes with Seokjin and usher him out of your apartment with a tired smile.

The door finally closes with a dull thud. Your shoulders deflate with the air in your lungs as you turn the heavy deadbolt. Namjoon’s palms find purchase on the precipice of your shoulders, fingers dipping softly into the crevasse made by your collarbones. You melt back into his touch, throwing your head into his chest when the pleasurable chill of the massage works its way down your spine.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m not that stressed. Really,” you weakly attempt to reason with him, silently wishing he’d never stop. A moan rumbles in your throat, making your brain go numb.

“I know,” he mumbles while continuing the controlled movements of his fingertips. “Fist of Fury sounding good?”

“Mmm, I was thinking about something with more comedy.”

“Way of the Dragon then?” he suggests, gently leading you towards the couch in a slow waddle.

“Please don’t make me watch it in English,” you groan, shuffling in time with his strides. “I don’t think I can take that dub again.”

“Fine, fine. Hold up.” He offers an amused smile as he pushes you towards the sofa as he searches for the DVD in question.

The loss of his touch leaves a chill in its wake and you instinctively pull on the fuzzy blanket scrunched into the gap between cushions. You drape it across your torso and bury your arms underneath just as Namjoon pops the DVD into the xbox below the television. He mindlessly grabs a controller, flicks the lightswitch, and shoves the nearby ottoman with his foot until it’s closing in on the sofa. You react before it can hit your shins.

As he flops onto the cushion beside you, the sensation of your legs brushing against each other has you leaning towards him with a shiver. The startup screen highlights his face as you lift the blanket, offering coverage despite feeling the heat radiating from his body. You just want to feel someone next to you. Much to your surprise, he accepts the offer and huddles in, pressing your bodies close together.

Quelling the shakiness of your exhale, you reach over to grab the controller from his lap. Instead the muscles of his thighs flex as your hand drags across them. You’re already apologizing as you jump in place, retracting your hand as quickly as possible while fumbling to look for the controller. He looks down at your hand and then back up to your face, silently pursing his lips as he drops the controller into your palm.

"Sorry," you mumble again as you navigate through the menus, not daring to peek over at his face.

"Don't worry about it," he whispers, sprawling an arm over the couch cushion behind you. His fingertips lazily tap against the contour of your shoulder, wishing that the t-shirt was smaller, thinner, something that could expose more of your skin beneath the blanket.

You fail to contain the deep inhale that causes your chest to rise and slowly breathe out the nerves constricting your lungs. As you start the movie and set the controller on the armrest, you turn your head to look at him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he parrots back at you. The warmth of his leg presses into your thigh, serving as a reminder of the wetness between yours.

“About earlier, I…” you trail off, unable to finish the statement. The needy touch-starved thoughts haven’t yet worn off and you curse your brain for letting you taint your friendship with impure thoughts of the man beside you. How could you possibly tell him that you weren’t thinking clearly before when you still want him to touch you, when your pussy clenches any time he pushes his body against you? The familiar sound of the title music fills the silence.

“Don’t worry about it,” he repeats softly. “Let’s just… watch Bruce Lee, hmm?”

His words somehow simultaneously bring you comfort and disappointment. You smile and nod, shifting your attention back to the television, though you can feel the feathery touch of his fingertips flirting with the hem of your sleeve seconds later. As you shift in your seat to relax your head against him, that same touch trails up your shoulder to brush a mess of hair from your neck before settling comfortably in the space between them. You chuckle at the old woman staring down Bruce Lee as your eyelids grow heavy. There’s no way you were even going to make it five minutes in, but you attempt it anyway.

“She lookin’ at him like a snack.” You’re relying on your thirst to keep yourself awake. “I agree.”

Namjoon snorts. “She’s looking at him like she’s gonna call the cops. Are we watching the same movie?”

“My bad. I’m self-inserting for granny,” you murmur, voice growing wearier by the syllable.

“Are you already falling asleep? We can watch it another night if you’re tired.” You can feel his eyes boring into the top of your skull as your eyelashes flutter against his chest.

“No,” you argue weakly, not bothering to lift your head to meet his gaze.

“I can feel you closing your eyes.”

“No,” you say again with a slight shake of your head that doubles as an excuse to nuzzle into the warmth of his chest.

“So if I took my phone out right now and snapped a pic, your eyes wouldn’t be closed?”

“Nope.”

“Not nice to lie,” he teases softly, smoothing the hair back from your forehead.

“Shhh, don’t talk during movies. You’re missing the part with the soups.”

He cradles your head with a scoff, resisting the urge to impart a goodnight kiss to the top of it as you obviously doze off. Your arm falls into his lap with the sound of a dull ‘pat’. Immediately his hand carefully draws yours away from the danger zone and sets it loosely over his. The gentle twitch of your digits against his palm beckon him to lace your fingers together. Butterflies wrack their way through his stomach and he soon complies, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as he does so.

Do you realize what you do to him? Probably not. Being here feels like walking a tightrope that he keeps wobbling back and forth on. But leaving would kill the adrenalin rush and leave him with nothing. He’d take the highwire any day if it meant there was a chance you could be waiting on the other side.

He’s determined to make it further into the movie, and he has every intention of nudging you awake, but not even five minutes later his eyelids droop and his neck bends back over the top cushion.

Just a few minutes. I’ll wake her up in a few minutes.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The change in volume from the end credits to the top menu of the DVD catapults you from slumber. You groan as you crane your stiff neck up towards the open-mouthed, snoring man whose warm chest you’ve been napping on. The grin creeping across your face threatens to break into a giggle, but you muzzle the sound before it can leave your throat.

The haze of sleep still clouds your mind and as your eyes travel up the dark skin that stretches up to his jaw, empty cravings for intimacy permeate the fog. Your head lolls back down and you scrunch your cheek against the base of his throat with a shaky exhale before turning towards him. You skim your lips over the muscles in his neck, shivering at the thought of pressing down. Pushing away the growing urge to suction your mouth down on his flesh, you lightly tap the side of his cheek. “Joonie.”

He groans loudly as he lifts his head off the cushion, but offers no other words of acknowledgement. Discomfort spreads across his features, brow knotting as he palms the back of his sore neck. His other hand firmly wraps itself around your knuckles, subconsciously dragging your palm across his lap as he stretches his limbs out. Heavy arms come back down and constrict you in a sleepy hug; the comfort it brings threatens to take you back into the world of slumber, but you shake off the impulse to close your eyes again.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” you announce softly against his white t-shirt, basking in the warmth of his embrace.

He peers down at you through dark, half-lidded eyes and struggles to bring a response to the forefront of his mind. You trace your fingers along the contours of his jaw, causing him to lean into your sleepy caress. Before you can register the movement, his lips graze the precipice of your forehead and your stomach lurches into a somersault at the sensation. Wait. Did he just...?

The bubble of his dream-state finally pops. Suddenly everything feels too real. His eyes widen and his heart drops, desperately wishing he could awaken from this moment panting and sweating within the confines of his bedroom. Is there a chance you’re not aware of his embarrassing mistake? He pulls back and the sharp sound of his lips smacking together awkwardly fills the room as the menu loop resets.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, abashed features straining to look anywhere else. “I’m gonna go.” He shifts uncomfortably, wriggling out from beneath your form, but your fingers reach out and curl around the solid mass of his forearm.

“Stay,” you whisper. “Please?”

You can’t fight the way your heart is pounding, desperate to feel the tickle of butterflies in your stomach at least one more time, to find your hand enveloped in his warm, comforting grasp. Deep, dark eyes settle on yours, searching for any excuse to decline such a tempting offer. When he comes up empty, you also find yourself at a loss for words and you shake your head, trying to come up with some explanation for the blurry lines you’ve been drawing all over your friendship with him.

You rationalize that it’s not crazy to find comfort in the arms of a good friend. How many times has Jennie kissed your forehead without meaning anything by it? How many times have you held hands with her and platonically snuggled up together? Is it really so different now that Namjoon is the one beside you?

Your mind flashes back to the moments leading up to Seokjin’s arrival. You were the one to guide him towards you. Your lips never touched, and you refuse to accept the fraction of your brain that screams of its disappointment. The fact that you got close enough to expose the possibility of Namjoon as a makeout partner is a thought you’re struggling to bury. That’s what makes him different. That’s what makes it difficult to let him leave.

You know it’s selfish, but there’s a shred of something that you can’t allow yourself to acknowledge. Until you fill the void of a relationship in your life, or sex at the very least, maybe this is exactly what you need. It’s harmless, really. Just a comforting snuggle buddy. It’s harmless... right? You ask yourself again, the echo of his heavy breaths fresh in your mind. The memory plays again: one hand clasps around his neck and pulls him down towards you, the other guiding him teasingly towards the lace of your bra as your noses brush against each other; it’s enough to set your cheeks on fire but not enough to retract the offer.

“Don’t leave. Please, just… Just lay with me again?” you plead quietly. Could you sound more pathetic? There’s never been a more appropriate time to wish you were built like a computer, or at least something you could flush the short term memory from, but here you are: painfully human and seeking complacency.

You keep your eyes fixed on him as you rise, his expression never falling into the expected air of pity. Shock. Confusion. Maybe even relief. But never the pity you anticipate. The television coats his features with a soft glow and your shoulders instinctively relax as his smile molds shadowed dimples along either side of his mouth. The word of affirmation that escapes him is barely audible over the sound of the tv.

The room grows dark and silent all too fast as you tap the power button on the back of the screen. Warmth radiates from his hand as it trails down your arm, finally twining itself between your fingers as he waits for you to lead the way. Of course he’s memorized the steps to your bedroom, but he’s not about to let impatience reveal the alacrity within.

It’s no trouble to navigate in the darkness and you find yourself needlessly tugging him closer. You’re quick to hide your own eagerness under the guise of fatigue, forcing a loud yawn from your mouth as you flop back into the center of the bed. He stumbles forward a bit before catching himself on the soft mattress, quietly climbing onto it as though the weight of his body will shatter its molecular structure.

Tonight the moon is blocked by the clouds in the sky, and the unusual pitch black nature of the room is a little unnerving. It’s easy to imagine shadows moving when you can’t see anything clearly. Before you can burden yourself with unnecessary anxiety, Namjoon’s palms are dipping into the mattress on either side of you, parallel to your waist. You can feel him ascending like a silent panther, closing in on his prey. Stale air hitches in your throat as he hovers above you, a delicately placed knee sinking into the space between your thighs.

The heat from his core sears shameful desire into the surface of your flesh and you attempt to close your legs. The inside of your soft thighs squeeze against the unexpected muscular mass of his, trapping him just below the wetness you’re refusing to acknowledge. It doesn’t take long for you to become keenly aware that if he leans any further up he will be wearing it and you press your legs even tighter together, despite knowing the barrier of muscle between them makes the task impossible.

Your palm reaches up to find his face, curling under his jaw to cup his chin in a playful venture to diffuse the tension in the air. It’s closer than you expect. There’s a strange relief in the realization that he can’t see the way your jaw falls open. That relief quickly dissipates when his plump lips press against the pad of your thumb, causing your sharp inhale to cut through the white noise of the fan nearby.

He laughs softly, breath hitting your skin in puffs as your fingernail scrapes against his upper lip. This position is not exactly ideal, considering the erection beginning to form in his boxers. With one leg trapped between your thighs and the other plunging into the mattress beside you, all it would take is one lazy dip of his pelvis to allow you to feel how you affect him.

“What are you doing?” You find your voice, but it sounds hoarse and foreign, and you make no effort to hide the accusation dripping from your own guilty lips.

“I…” His heart drops to his stomach. What is he doing? The more time that passes leaves the memory of you on the couch feeling increasingly surreal, like a cruel joke originating from a desperate imagination that he’s foolish enough to believe. He squeezes his eyes shut, struggling to think of something that will fix this mess. The rain pattering against the window is soothing and it tries to wash the awkwardness from the air, but it’s not enough.

Then a lightbulb goes off, and his hand is already gently bringing yours down to the mattress. His voice is even, despite the humiliation coursing through him. “I dropped your defenses.”

“You what…?” Before you can contemplate the meaning behind his words, his hand tightens around your wrist, pressing it into the soft mess of blankets beneath you with his full weight. You strain against his grip as he begins playfully jabbing at your waist with his free hand. You scrunch your hips towards your elbow as you swat fervently in the direction of his arm to no avail.

Strong, stubborn fingers poke and prod all of the sensitive spots he’d briefly had the pleasure to acquaint himself with. You do your best to keep the laughter from spilling out, but he isn’t satisfied by the restraint you’re showing. The noises he wrenched from you earlier had been so delicious and he’s desperate to pull more, so he dares to pinch his fingers at the tender crease in your skin between your thigh and hip.

You buck your hips and cry out at the sensation, the fabric of your shorts riding up just enough to grant his fingertips access to the outermost edge of your panties. His eyes roll into the back of his skull for a fraction of a second, reveling in his success. Your hand clamps down on his bicep, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks. He would be hissing and backing off if not for the delectable sound of you stammering out a slew of pleases on repeat.

Are two fingers all it takes to make you beg me? He muses, pleased with the visual he’s created for himself in the darkness. He can feel his cock poking out from the hole in his boxers, sensitive head sliding against the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

“Joonie, please! I’m gonna--” A snort escapes the back of your throat and you choke back a gross fit of giggles as his fingers twitch against the cotton fringe beneath your shorts. “It’s too much!”

Those are definitely a string of phrases he’s going to file away for later. He licks his lips before loudly smacking them, enjoying the fact that you can’t see the devilish smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Really? ‘Cause, uh, I don’t feel a thing.”

His thumb and forefinger pinch against your flesh in that same sensitive area, ripping another uncontrollable cackle from you. Even in the darkness, it’s easy to tell that you’ve got tears in your eyes from the way you’re pleading with him. Your clammy fingers slide along the lean muscles in his bicep, tapping him repeatedly as though a referee will appear and save you from his relentless fingers. Your head falls back and you half-bury your face into a pillow to muffle the way you’re howling beneath him.

“Please, please, please,” you beg between pained wheezes, hopelessly bucking your hips up towards his. “I’ll do anything. Please. Please. Please. Please. Namjoon...”

He does his best to avoid your frenzied thrusts, dodging to the left and right to keep his now rock hard dick from touching any part of you. But the breathless way you’re pleading and panting against the pillows has him melting, daring him to grind his aching cock on your hips. His fingers slowly drag a delicate path away from the cotton he’d been trying to build the courage to do something more bold with. They trace invisible teasing lines downward and the abs hidden beneath your soft layers of flesh finally stop contracting. This time the final laugh that escapes you trails off into a breathy moan, body flaring with desire for more contact while simultaneously fatigued from twinging and fighting against his mischievous digits. Namjoon’s form lingers above you in the darkness with your crass groan refusing to leave his eardrums.

Hot breath fans the shell of your ear, his already deep voice somehow dropping an octave lower as the gravel in his throat fights the word bubbling out from it. “Anything...?”

Why does he keep doing that? It’s driving you insane. You don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice take on this tone before tonight, even in jest, and it’s making your ears ring with how hard they’re now straining to take in more of that delicious, gruff whisper. You have no choice but to hold your breath to quiet the exhale that threatens to reveal the lust coating your thoughts.

Just as you’re certain he’s about to drop his weight onto your thigh and expose the wetness soaking through your shorts, Namjoon pulls his head back with a loud contented sigh, flopping down onto the mattress beside you. Maybe he’s just giving you a taste of your own medicine. Can you blame him after all the mixed messages you’ve been sending? You’ve been filling pretty much every conversation with sexual tension lately; it makes sense that he would try to dish some back at you.

In your defense, Tinder hasn’t exactly been the fun, liberating experience you’d been promised by the app’s promotional messaging, and your frustrations are starting to become palpable. Even your vibrator can’t keep up with the rollercoaster highs of your sex drive right now. Poor Joon is just caught in the middle of a very, very bad drought and you’ll be damned if you let your friendship become a casualty of your desire for a little rain.

Coward. The thought reverberates against his skull hard enough to make him shake his head as he props himself up on one elbow.

“Help me hook my laptop to my TV so I can watch movies on the big screen,” he says, cutting through the self-loathing. Knowing you’re glaring at him in the dark, he pauses. “What? You said anything.”

“Just get a Firestick. They make those things specifically for people like you. I don’t need your incompetent ass calling me every time you can’t get it working.”

“You always gotta be rude about everything?” he tuts. “Besides, Firestick ain’t gonna help with what I want to do.”

The conversation allows you to forget the shame dripping out of you and you flip onto your side to more comfortably counter his point. “You can get every YouTube video on the planet on that thing. Not to mention Hulu, Netflix, PrimeVideo… Like, you can get anything you want to watch at the push of a few buttons. Well, everything except…” you trail off, the gears in your head spinning fast enough to come undone.

He swallows, knowing you’re about to call him out. “I don’t need a Firestick,” he reiterates.

Your cheeks flush. Porn. Of course it’s porn. Just another thought you don’t need floating around your head: Namjoon jerkin’ it to whatever weird shit he’s into. Honestly, you’re almost afraid to touch the laptop with how much he’s probably used it for that specific purpose.

“Of course not.” You sigh as your palm pushes him back against the bed, eager to just forget the night and feel the same way you did last week. “You’re gross.”

He huffs at the accusation, even though he admits to himself you’re completely right and doesn’t audibly argue the point. He also doesn’t fight the way you force him down, resting his head against a soft pillow as the weight of yours comes down onto his chest. Instinctually, his arm reaches around you, pulling you closer with his fingers tented against the small of your back. You shiver into his t-shirt, briefly catching the scent of his deodorant before closing your eyes.

“So, that’s a no then?” he asks dejectedly, voice rumbling up through the ear you’ve got pressed to his chest.

You chuckle into him as you nuzzle your face back and forth a few times, reveling in the way it feels to be in such a comfortable position with another person, even if it is Namjoon. “I guess I can do it since you’re indulging me right now... I won’t tell if you don’t?”

His fingertips move down your back to idly play with the band of your shorts, tracing lazy lines across them. You tense, taking all the self control you currently possess to stop from grinding your hips into his thigh.

He hums in response, finally resting his hand respectfully above the fabric of the t-shirt at your waist. “Okay,” he whispers.

You lay together in silence, listening to the increased assault of raindrops at your window. Normally with the fan going like this you’d be feeling chilly and be rushing to pull a blanket over you, but with the heat coming off of him in waves, you’re feeling rather warm, almost sweaty. It feels like the breath in your lungs isn’t enough and you take in a few deep, noticeable inhales and exhales. Your heart is pounding like you just ran some kind of incredible marathon.

“Y/N… You ok?” Even sleepy, you can still hear the concern dripping from his tone.

You take in a couple more hungry breaths. It almost feels like a panic attack sneaking up on you. But why now? You’re not even doing anything worth freaking out about. Is it the stress of the day? Is it the embarrassment?

“Yeah… Just...anxiety...” you manage to pant out weakly, your chest heaving frantically for more air. “I’m sorry."

He fishes for your hand in the darkness, turning his face down towards the top of your head to plant a small, innocent kiss there. “Shhh, shhh, I got you. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, trembling fingers gripping his with a sense of urgency, like at a moment’s notice he’ll melt away and you’ll be left alone. “Don’t leave, okay?”

He twines his steady fingers between yours. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. You’re okay. Try to breathe deeply. I’ll be right here.” He starts to inhale loudly, causing your head to rise with each deep fill of his lungs, and fall with his audible exhales.

Over the course of a few minutes, your breathing aligns with his, and you’re even holding at the same moments to help your body relax. When you seem stable, he wants to say something comforting, but simply gives your hand a gentle squeeze once he recognizes the soft snore leaving your mouth.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Joonie, did you clean your apartment before I came over?” you’re eyeing the spotless nature of his abode suspiciously. “Since when do you not throw your shirts wherever?”

He smiles, pleased with himself as he folds his arms and crosses the room before sinking into the couch. “Since you always complain about it.”

You stare him down incredulously. “It’s just… I’m shocked. It’s so unlike you.”

“What?” He scoffs. “Are you seriously gonna complain now that my place is clean?”

“Hmph. Where’s your laptop?” you question,

He pulls it from the folds in the couch cushion sheepishly. “Hold up.” He’s opening it and typing in the password as you flop down next to him.

“If you seriously left porn on here knowing I was coming over to do this, that’s on you. Gimme. I wanna see what fucked up shit Professor Kim gets off to.”

He tries to cover the screen, but you can still see the raunchy frozen frame beneath his splayed fingers. Your eyebrows raise, taking in the sight of a nude woman’s body straddling a well-endowed man on a black leather couch. It’s tough to push back the smile fighting through your pursed lips. “Couch cowgirl, huh?”

“You know…” He fumbles to close the tab and thrusts the computer into your lap, clearly embarrassed at the thought of you seeing any of that. “I don’t stand over your shoulder judging your porn choices.”

You shake your head and scoff. “What makes you so sure I watch porn?”

“I know you,” he groans, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh, beginning to navigate to the display settings. “I’m not judging. It’s just a little more tame than I was expecting.”

“You’re judging,” he declares finitely. “And what the hell are you expecting anyway? What kind of fucked up shit are you into, hmm?”

Your face flushes and you stop typing. He laughs. “See? Just that reaction there tells me you’re one hundred times worse than me. You’re just better at hiding your search history.”

You swallow hard and snap the laptop shut. “Joon, you knew I was coming over to do this today. You had all night to clear out your embarrassing stuff. It’s not my fault you’re a dumbass.”

He starts to quietly interject. “Actually, my IQ is--”

“I don’t care what your IQ is. You’re not goading me into telling you my porn preferences. I’m just here to help you get your laptop hooked up.”

“Is that why you’ve closed it?” he asks with a smirk.

You blink at him a few times. “N-No.”

He laughs again and you can feel your face burning, knowing that he’s pridefully drinking in the sight of your mistake. “Don’t worry. You don’t need to say a thing.” He leans in, closer than you expect and begins speaking in a low, gravelly whisper that freezes you in place. “I already know what you like.”

You do your best to keep your breathing steady, but it quickly turns into a sputtering mess when he cups your chin and trails his index finger down your neck, stopping just above your breast bone. With no effort at all, he guides you down with the press of his finger until you’re laying flat on your back. He steadies himself over you with a strong arm that sinks into the cushion beside your face, effectively boxing you in as he descends.

“You like it when I take control,” he announces, an unfamiliar confidence in his husky tone. “Don’t you?”

At this point, you know your jaw is trembling as it hangs stupidly open. Every word you can think of dies on your tongue as his free hand draws a line beneath your t-shirt, up your belly and teases the lace trim around one of your breasts. You shiver as he drags his fingertips back and forth in the valley between your tits, growing more and more desperate for him to reach beneath one of the cups and take you into his hand. Chest heaving, you turn your gaze away, hoping he will spare you the embarrassment of looking into his eyes with the hunger in yours.

“Yes,” you whisper weakly, knowing he’s got you. If Jimin has been teaching him how to play Chicken, he has taken it to the next level and it’s gone past the point where you think you’re able to willfully extricate yourself from the situation.

His hand shoots up from beneath your shirt to clasp your jaw, forcing your face back into position. “Look at me when you answer.“

You let a tiny moan slip at the rough contact and your eyelids flutter for a moment before meeting his gaze. His eyes are dark and eager, pupils blown out to the size of dinner plates, perfectly set to devour you. You need it now. You need him now.

“Yes…” you whimper. His hand drops like lightning down beneath your bra, molding as much of your tit as his strong grip can manage.

“Fuck yes,” you breathe, clasping your arms around his neck and desperately bringing him down to meet your lips.

He moans into your mouth as he comes crashing down, greedily sucking the air from your lungs with every last taste he imparts. The hand that had been supporting his weight tangles itself in your hair as you buck your hips up into him, thirsty for more of whatever he’ll give you. The rocking passage of your hips causes him to mirror the motion, grinding his thigh deliciously up against your clit. You mouth falls open with the need to take in air at the sudden friction in your jeans. He uses the opportunity to slip his himself past the barrier of your teeth and deep into your mouth, gliding his tongue across the surface of your own.

While this has never been a thought that’s crossed your mind in the past, you can’t imagine not knowing his taste. And yet when you try to describe it and pin down his delectable nature, it slips away. Your lips crash harder around his, hopelessly searching for the moment that your thirst will be quenched and never finding it. You want him more than you ever thought possible, in any way possible. It’s like he’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time, flooding all of your senses with a ravenous need that refuses to fade, even as you drink him in again and again.

As he pinches a pebbled nipple between his fingers, you whine through a gasp and fight to bite at his bottom lip, sucking it through your teeth. You hold him in place long enough for him to prop himself up on the couch and move back. Like hell if you were going to let him have all the power.

“Please,” he groans through gritted teeth, sounding incredibly vulnerable. It’s like music to your ears. You drag your teeth over his lip slowly one last time before letting it snap back to him.

With an ease you’re not used to, you’re able to push him back and sit up, carefully untangling your legs and rising from the couch. He’s about to pull you back towards him when you point to the middle of the couch. “Sit there.”

His adam’s apple bobs a few times, dark hunger never leaving the spark in his eyes as he positions himself as instructed. Clasping the outside of his knees, you force them closer together as you straddle his lap. With your legs spread like this, you can smell how wet and ready your pussy is, so you know damn well that he can too. You should be embarrassed and hiding your face in shame. You should be, but you’re not.

Your fingers knot themselves in his hair as you slowly roll your hips across his lap. Your voice is low and husky, filled with messy impatience. You’re ready to fall apart at his hands if he’d let you, but first you want him to know how it feels. “Is this how you like it, Namjoon? Is this what you want?”

A sharp inhale gives you your answer, but you continue to roll your hips just above his lap, hoping to elicit an erection. He groans as he buries his face into your neck, sliding his hot tongue over a particularly sensitive area and latching himself on. You realize you’re going to buckle quickly under the ecstasy you’re not used to feeling. Feeling reckless and bold, you reach down into his sweatpants, grasping for the cock you know has to be rock solid at this point.

Your hand clumsily slides against the gray band at his waist, unable to even clutch the drawstrings in your haste. The harder you try, the more your fingers seem to tangle in them. Soon you find yourself trapped, unable to move your hands away from the gray material they’ve become encased within. Using the brunt of your shoulder, you force Namjoon off your neck and much to your horror the laughter spilling out of him becomes squeaky like a windshield wiper.

“Wooow!” Jin’s disappointed voice has you breaking out in a cold sweat, frozen as you take in the broad shoulders dressed in Namjoon’s clothes before you. “Are my eyes deceitful like you? How many times have I asked if you had feelings for him? And now I catch you like this? What do you mean, none? I’m sure I asked at least once!”

As you shake the hair from your eyes and try to break free, the horror intensifies as the man before you morphs into a giggling Hoseok.

“Tsk-tsk-tsk. Dirty girl,” he chides, bringing his arms around your neck. “How long has it been? Have you forgotten how? I can help you remember if you want.”

You shut your eyes, trying to wish the temptuous voice away, but when you open them it’s now Jungkook staring at you, cackling. “Showing him your tits wasn’t enough, noona? You want him to touch you too?”

He tuts as he leans forward, and you begin to slide from his lap, which seems to be growing larger and steeper by the second. You’re desperately trying to get your hands free so you don’t fall, but it’s no use; you can feel yourself slipping away.

“Oh, are you stuck?” His obnoxious guffaw echoes into the darkness encroaching the apartment. “Well, since I’m a nice guy, let me help you with that. I’m really good with straps.”

He stands and you feel yourself fall, but he catches you by your bound hands, causing your elbows to knock against your head. You feel about 2 feet tall in his clutches as he suspends you in the air with one hand. The other starts pulling on the tangle of gray drawstrings, causing your body to twist in his grasp. With a sharp tug, he has you completely unraveling in a dizzy haze. You clamp your eyes shut again to avoid the vertigo jeopardizing the stability of your stomach contents.

You hang in Jungkook’s grasp, his cackle reverberating through your skull as you feel a gentle breeze caressing your body. As you open your eyes and look down, you realize you’re completely naked, and as you fight against his hold, your body spins. You’re face to face with Taehyung, his eyes cold and calculating as they roam across your body, searching for imperfections. He cocks his head to the side, wearing an expression of granite as his eyes slowly, painfully ascend your exposed flesh.

He blinks at you a few times before breaking into a boxy smile. “Wow. I’m glad we kept your clothes on.”

As you recover from the sting of his words, you fight against Jungkook’s grasp and attempt to swipe at Taehyung’s gorgeous face. As he leans back, his visage morphs into Yoongi, who stands there looking perplexed by your current predicament.

“Hobi’s right. You are easy, aren’t you?” He quirks an eyebrow and turns away, his form evaporating into the darkness.

Again you fight against the man holding you in place. This time you fall, but you land softly against a couch cushion with the cheshire grin of Jimin looming over you.

“Oh, Y/N… You went home with Namjoon-hyung, hmm? I thought you liked me?” His smile quickly falls into a rare scowl, all traces of mirth absent in his stone gaze. The jealous venom biting in his tone causes you to wince. “It’s fine. I have better options.”

“I know,” you whisper, closing your eyes and allowing the tears to fall, attempting to descend further into the cushion.

Your body congeals into the cushion, slowly melting through it and sending you hurling into the darkness. Your knees hit a hard surface with a loud crack, but it doesn’t hurt. Nothing hurts like the words in your head. You know they’re right.

A spotlight appears over you, drawing attention to your lack of clothing and you clutch your knees to your chest to cover yourself as best you can. As you look around for an exit, you notice a mirror running along the wall behind you, taller than you can even fathom. Quick to disregard the sight of yourself, you turn around and there’s another one waiting ahead of you. Glancing around the room again yields dozens and dozens of mirrors in every direction. There’s nowhere you can even pretend to hide.

So you stand, tears stinging your eyes from the heartbreak of the truths you keep telling yourself. You shuffle over to the nearest mirror, feeling like your feet are sinking into sand and unable to fully rise with each step. Your reflection stares back at you: tired, cold, tear-stricken. You exhale and shove at the glass, unhappy with the person you see staring back at you. Instead of shattering or at least cracking like you expect, the glass bends in and bounces back, forcefully sending you into the mirror behind you. Your back lands against the hard surface and you slide down, allowing yourself to just sit and cry.

As you hug your knees close to your chest again, a fuzzy warmth envelops you. Clutching at the soft blanket that covers your body, you look up to see Namjoon’s dimpled smile starting back at you. He lowers himself to his knees and embraces you from behind, arms cradling you, lulling you into a place of comfort. It’s only when you stare ahead again that you can see the smile now gracing your own features.

He always finds a way to help, doesn’t he? With a contented sigh, you turn your body to gently bring your lips to meet his. The warmth of his body floods yours once more.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You awaken to your lips pressed against something hard. Your eyelids flutter a few times and you can just barely make out the shape of Namjoon’s arm pressing into your cheek. You must have rolled away from him in your sleep. Thank God. The sweat that trickles down your neck somehow runs cold and you shiver, tugging at the blanket covering your shoulders that was definitely not there when you closed your eyes. With a few deep breaths, you attempt to calm your heartbeat. You’re in your room. None of that was real. You’re safe.

Gently wiping your saliva from his forearm, you carefully shift your weight and turn your body to face him. Thankfully, he appears to still be sleeping, half tucked beneath the same blanket. What do you know? Even the human heater must get chilly sometimes.

Your heart still pounds wildly against your ribcage; it’s so loud that you’re almost afraid the sound will rouse him from slumber, but he lays peacefully beside you. There’s a hint of moonlight breaking through the clouds, and it casts just enough light to illustrate how angelic his features look while reposed. With the dream still fresh in your mind, you feel the need to reach out and make sure this is real. 

Your hand gently glides through his hair before cupping his cheek and stroking it with your thumb. You catch yourself wondering how you might explain the action, should he awaken at this moment. For now, all that matters is the tranquility the subtle movement provides; it coaxes you into security. As your heartbeat calms, you rest your head on his chest. There’s a dull thumping that you can feel beneath your palm and you swear time stills as you lose yourself in its soothing cadence. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Sunshine can’t seem to clear the clouds enough to illuminate the room. It still feels like it could be too early to rise, but the sound of birds chirping over the soft patter of rain lets you know that it’s later than you might believe. You blink a few times, irritated that you’re rising at all on a Saturday morning when you could be sleeping the day away. It’s not like you have anything planned. As you stretch your spine straight up, a pair of lean, muscular arms constrict your chest and waist, lazily pulling you back into a prime spooning position. 

You lightly massage the pair of forearms pinning you in place with oblivious fingertips. That’s right. Joonie’s still here.

He’s careful to keep your form from his pelvis, knowing that it wouldn’t take much for you to feel the stiff bulge tucked into the band of his sweatpants. Whatever alternate dimension he’d stumbled into last night had given plenty of fuel for his fantasies: your moans, your touch, and kiss you had nearly shared. 

But with the gray fragments of daybreak twinkling through the blinds, reality has to kick in at some point. He knows there’s no way you would pass up the opportunity to make fun of him should you feel even the tip at your back. Now’s not the time to tempt the luck of the universe, not when he has you like this.

You do your best to ignore the blush creeping across your cheeks as you settle in, lacing your fingers with a firm squeeze to his. He lifts his head and sleepily sets it in the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning the surface of your skin and giving you new chills with each exhale. "Morning, Geeksquad."

You hum in response, leaning back into the sensation. He breathes deeply, taking in the subtle mingling scents that linger on your form: the hint of lilac conditioner in your hair, the traces of moisturizer on your skin, the remnants of perfume spritzed some time ago, and the fragrance he can’t place as anything other than “you.” He could stay here for hours just breathing you in, trying to figure it out, but any description would fall short of capturing its perfection.

The tickle of his breath at your neck causes to you shake your head against the pillow a few times, attempting to hide the smile curling the corners of your mouth. You’re content with the scene staying as it is and you’re almost relaxed enough to drift back to sleep when the ceiling above you allows the first long creak to break through the quiet of your bedroom. Then another. And another. Soon there’s a steady familiar squeaking of the bed frame in the apartment above. An awkward silence falls between you both, but quickly fills with a rhythmic squeaking.

It was too much to hope that the noisy neighbors could put off their sexcapades until you weren’t in a compromising position with a friend. You side-eye the light fixture above you as it rattles in time with the sound of the headboard now hitting the wall. You know from experience that the noises will dull in time, but it doesn’t make right now any better.

Just as you’re about to say something, there’s a slew of loud “yes”es that cut through the room. Not daring to look back at Namjoon now, you scrunch your face into a grimace and silently pray for the bed to fall through the ceiling and crush you. Neither of you are willing to say anything, either embarrassed or enthralled by the lewd visions plaguing you as a result of the sounds above.

While you can't recall the most recent dream to grace your subconscious, an encore of the previous one pervades your thoughts. The image of Namjoon feeling you up as you make out like a couple of horny teenagers has you squeezing your thighs together and tensing your body against him. 

Desire charts a course from your brain straight down to your pussy, the noises descending from the ceiling only serving to heighten the fantasy. The thought of him cupping your tits and pulling you back into his chest creeps into your mind with every second you spend tucked beneath his arms.

You bite your lip and stretch again, this time purposefully nudging your ass into him with a forced yawn. Even through a heavy knit layer of cotton, you feel the hard shape that butts up against you. A soft, sleepy groan croaks out from the base of his throat, which only allows the perverse reverie to further take over. 

Dropping his forehead against you, a heavy, tight-lipped grumble sends vibrations up your neck. This, combined with the creaking bed frame and muffled moans from above, sends a hot, prickly wave of adrenaline surging through you. A restrained puff of air forces its way through his nostrils as his nose sweeps against the sensitive spot at the base of your neck.

Your pussy clenches at the sound of his weakness, like the gravitational pull of your soaking cunt can draw in his cock if those muscles deep inside can contract hard enough. You're hyper aware of the way your shorts are riding up, removing that extra barrier between you both, but you're too worked up at this point to care. 

You reach back, wordlessly carding your fingers through his hair. The action elicits another faint moan into the flesh of your neck, sending the high of your adrenalin to new heights. Silent, jagged breaths wrack the outline of your chest as he tightens his arm's hold on your waist. 

He makes a fist to keep himself from grabbing your hips, knuckles trembling against your belly and clearly struggling to keep things PG. But you're not having it, not after the dreams that have plagued you and the filthy things running through your mind. Hoping to lure another lewd sound from him, you wiggle your hips and shimmy your shoulders to provide the cover that perhaps you're trying to get comfortable. His fist opens and desperate fingers sink into the flesh beneath your t-shirt.

It's not a request, but a harsh demand in the form of a whisper against the shell of your ear that leaves you absolutely quaking beneath him. "You don't want to keep doing that."

The subdued whimper crawling up your throat nearly dies behind pursed lips before transforming into a pleased hum. Your hips seem to have a mind of their own, rising to challenge what may or may not be a bluff, and slowly grind back into the erection firmly planted at your backside. You're too enticed by the possibility of a gratifying answer to stop the word falling from your mouth. "Why?"

That definitely came out brattier than intended. A swarm of angry butterflies pump their way through your system. Their fluttering clogs the path to your brain that tends to lean towards subtlety. Dull fingernails dig into the skin at your hip and shoulder tight enough to leave marks. His hips thrust forward for the first time, slowly dragging the mass of his cock up your ass and then back down in delicious, languid strokes.

You hold back the moan building in your throat and a sharp sigh chokes its way past your lips instead. The subsequent needy, ragged inhales fill the space around you. Your back arches while your hips remain in place, causing your chest to rise as you knot your fingers in his hair. When you throw your head back and close your eyes, he bites his lip to quell the urge to pepper kisses along your exposed neck. His restraint is admirable, but the toll it takes on him is palpable at this point.

“I think you know why,” he accuses in a low whisper, dropping his forehead against you again and halting the stroke of his hips.

“I won’t tell… if you don’t,” you promise, your chest about ready to cave in on itself from the amount of pressure his arm is now squeezing into it.

Feeling brave, you offer one more subtle roll of your hips, tempting him to follow the provocative pattern. Now he’s the one who tenses. He’s still, holding his breath for just a moment in disbelief as the dull sound of the lovers above cut through the air. Then you feel the sliding of his palm across your abdomen and a greedy exhale at your ear. Fingers dig into your flesh, holding you in place as he answers your unspoken question with gentle rock of his hips. You respond with hungry need, clasping your hands over both of his as the rhythm of your bodies begin to sync.

He lets you lead the campaign to your mutual destruction. If this is hell then he’s happy to be the fiery tide at the back of a devil disguised as a moon goddess. His hips ebb and flow against whatever pace you set as you listen to the lovers upstairs and soon you find yourself wishing for more. You feel as though at any given moment his cock is going to spring free and rub against the meat of your ass-- and you're ashamed to admit that you couldn't be more turned on by the thought. 

His fingers start to tease the band of your shorts as he rocks himself against your ass, savoring the way you’re panting. He slows his pace without realizing as he drifts into his own fucked-out daydream. It becomes clear you’re at his mercy when you whimper his name at his unintentionally lazy thrusts. The tides have turned.

You’re definitely about to say something you might regret --as if you didn’t have enough of that going on already. Your dripping cunt urges you to beg, to plead with him to go farther. You’ll set up as much porn on his TV as he wants. But right now, you want to be touched so badly you feel like you’re going to explode. “Please.”

What he wouldn’t give to hear you say that again. He hooks a finger beneath the fabric at your waist and dips his tongue out to wet his lips, which deliberately skims your neck. This time you moan and he finds himself echoing the sentiment as he decides he’s going to take his time with you and pull out as many “please”s as you’ll give him. 

You jump when your cellphone’s ringtone cuts through the room. He holds back the sob building in his throat, leaving only choked air in its wake. It’s suddenly clear to you that the only other sounds in the room are both of your labored breaths. You strain to reach out towards the nightstand and Namjoon’s arms reluctantly give way to your movement. He immediately rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling in disbelief as you fumble to swipe at the screen.

“Why do you do this to me?” he whispers to himself, and rolls away from you to contemplate the meaning of life.

“H-Hello?”

“What uuuuup, bitch." Jennie’s voice is loud and carries through the receiver even though the volume isn’t at its highest setting. 

You wince, trying to shake the lingering nerves from your voice. “Heeeeey, Jennie.” You stumble through a few incoherent syllables. “A-Are you back?”

“You sound guilty. What are you doing?”

“I wasn’t doing anything, Jennie,” you scoff.

“Doesn’t sound like it. Oh, did you go have a rebound bang after that shitty date yesterday?” she asks excitedly.

“What? No! I was just minding my own business. Relaxing.” You swallow, sparing a glance at Namjoon. “Alone.” 

He raises his eyebrows at you and your roll your eyes, mouthing the word ‘what.’

“Okay, okay! I got it. I don’t need to hear about how great your vibrator is again. I get actual sex from actual real people, Y/N.”

Your mouth falls open and you cringe at her statement, tearing your eyes off of Namjoon’s giggling form. He folds his arm over his face to hide his laughter, but from the corner of your eye you can still see his body convulsing.

“You know what!” You shriek, rising from the bed and scurrying out of the room as fast as possible. “I don’t need this. Is there a reason you called?”

“Obviously you don’t check your email. I’m on my way back but Taehyung stopped by and asked me to retouch those photos he took.”

“Taehyung drove all the way there to ask you that?”

“He was apparently out this way for a gallery or something. I don’t know. He stopped by with a flash drive and asked me to work my magic aaaand ta-daaa. Well. Open your email. It works better if you can actually see what I’m ta-daing about.”

You swallow, putting her on speaker as you open the mail icon on your phone. Sure enough, there’s an email from Jennie with several attachments. Your eyes skim along the text in the body of the email and settle on the photos below. Holy shit.

“Well? What do you think? Pretty good right? I mean I haven’t touched them all but Tae and I picked out what we thought were the best of the best for your profile. He liked the artsier looking ones, but I said hey man, sex sells. And it does, Y/N. So sell that shit. Put em up, get some matches! Oh and don’t worry I didn’t use any liquify shit to make you look thinner or anything. I just focused on accentuating your natural beauty and fixing the lighting with some adjustments to levels and curves, maybe a few color balance filters. Honestly though, Tae knows what he’s doing with a camera and I didn’t have to do much for most of them. Some cropping and smoothing out wrinkles in the backdrop to make it look more like a real beach. Adding some plants in places for dimension.”

You stand there staring at the photos, quietly taking in just how gorgeous the pair have made you look in each one. “Honestly they look so good. But this is so much work for my stupid profile,” you mumble as you scroll through, admiring the images that you still can’t believe are you.

“Y/N, sweetie. I love you. You’re a catch and I can’t wait to see you find the person who will appreciate and love you even half as much as I do. But you need to get laid. Badly. Right now you’d probably fuck anything that moves. I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me you banged that meathead Jungkook. Even though we both know he’s a fuckboy. Totally pump-and-dump type. One hundred percent not boyfriend material. Not even worth the trouble of a fuck, honestly. But you know we on about those arms… I’m pretty sure he’s the only person we know that could actually do your fantasy of being fucked against a wall and, like, not even be tired from holding you up...” she trails off, lost in her own thoughts. 

The words don’t embarrass you, even if Namjoon can hear them; you’re too distracted to find yourself even remotely fazed. You’re too lost in the work they’ve presented here, too shocked to say much of anything because of how excellent a job they’ve done. Can this really be you? Is this what you look like on a good day?

Namjoon listens in, taking this opportunity to inspect his own arms. He flexes the scrawny muscle in his bicep, trying to will it to grow bigger with a glare. His head snaps up. Your fantasy. She said ‘your fantasy.’ Is that really what you like? 

He looks back down at his muscles, entertaining the possibility of such a scenario. It seems challenging, but not impossible, considering he’d half-carried you up three flights of stairs not too long ago. Then again, that’s a little different than holding someone up while thrusting into them and not giving a sloppy performance. What a fucking thought. Restraining the urge to palm himself over his sweats, he brings a curled finger to his lips in contemplation while eavesdropping on the rest of the conversation you don’t seem interested in hiding.

“And because you fucking suck at selling yourself, this is the easiest way to you get there. You get the sex out of your system and then you find mister right --or misses right; I don’t judge!”

You sigh, knowing she’s the one with experience. Jennie has a new prospect every week, but she knows how to utilize others’ infatuation to her advantage, get what she wants, and discard them as she sees fit. And she does it so effortlessly that you can’t help but envy her. She would know better than you could ever hope to.

“Thank you, Jennie. Really. I-I’m so grateful. Just… thank you. I’ll put these up and see if I get any hits.”

“Don’t get sappy on me, Y/N. It’s no big deal. Dudes are gonna be lining up to get in that pussy, babe. Don’t even worry ‘bout it, ‘kay? Love you bitch.”

“Love you…” The call ends and you wander thoughtlessly back into the bedroom.

Namjoon’s shit eating grin says everything that he doesn’t, but you settle into bed beside him and choose to ignore the look he’s giving you in favor of scrolling through the images again, completely disregarding the way you two were previously dry-humping to the sounds of your neighbors going at it. Namjoon’s frustrated sigh lets you know he hasn’t forgotten.

“Apparently Taehyung and Jennie worked on these together,” you say, pulling up the first one to show him. “Do you…” You hesitate, suddenly feeling shy and you nervously on your earlobe. “Do you think this is okay? Like am I lying to people if I put these up? I feel like they’re too good. I feel like they’ll expect this all the time and I don’t think that’s really fair.”

Namjoon’s eyes soften as he takes the phone from your palm. He licks his lips as he scans the details in the photo: the curve of your smile, the sweetness in your eyes, the way your head coyly rests upon your shoulder. You’re beautiful, as always. Makeup doesn’t really change that. But your smile radiates positivity and light in this particular instance; you’re practically glowing.

You twiddle your fingers together as you wait for the verdict, unable to read his stoic expression. “Well?”

His eyes roam from your face down to the photo a few times and he cracks a smile. “I think you need to stop worrying. I don’t see a difference.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Don’t you think I look too… good there?”

He mirrors your confused expression. “I think you look as good as you always do.” He catches himself when your confusion turns into bashfulness. “You know, for a nerd.”

You scoff and roll your eyes at the short lived compliment before propping your head up on his chest. Your finger pokes the screen, swiping across the images one by one and taking some time to review them with him. Not a single insult passes his lips. There’s nothing but praise spilling from him, finding something unique and genuine to compliment you on with each photo. He must sense your insecurity because he pauses each time and reminds you that he’s not being paid to say nice things. You silently thank him for at least trying to build you up. Surprisingly, it helps.

“I guess I’m using them then,” you sigh in defeat, rolling away from him as you take the phone back. You’re already downloading the photos so you can set them to your profile.

Namjoon rises at the opportunity, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach at the thought of you actually finding someone. Because Jennie is right. With photos that actually do your beauty justice, people will be flocking to you in droves. It seems too real now that you’re eagerly putting them on there. “Tinder won’t know what hit ‘em,” he says dejectedly. 

You’re too distracted to properly catch the disappointment in his tone. “I hope so.”

“Hey... I’m gonna go, Geeksquad. I just remembered I made plans with some of the guys and I want to make sure I run all my errands ahead of time.”

You hum a note of approval and almost miss the way his face twists in anxiety because as you look up, he transforms his stress into a soft smile. Still, you see just enough to know you’re being a rude bitch right now and it’s bothering him.

“I’m sorry.” You drop the phone and cross the room, pulling him into a tight embrace. “Thank you for staying with me, Joonie. I… really appreciate you. I’m a mess and you always take care of me. So thank you. For real.”

“I know, Geeksquad.” He strokes your head a couple times before taking a few steps back. It hurts too much to say what’s on his mind. 

“And, um… before Jennie called I…” You lock eyes and you mouth the words you wish to say, but they don’t come as you want them to, “just got caught in the moment. I’m sorry.”

He blinks at you a few times before vigorously nodding. “Yeah.” He clears his throat after hearing the crack in his own voice, bringing it a few octaves deeper to protect his ego. “Yeah, uh, me too. Don’t even worry about it, okay? I’ll, uh, I’ll text you when I know what we’re doing.”

You nod enthusiastically, a grin spreading across your face. “Okay!”

With that, he disappears and you hear the unlocking of your door and the soft click when it closes behind him. Picking your phone up from the bed, you struggle with setting the order of the photos. You save and resave different combinations for about 10 minutes until a notification blocks your screen. You’ve got a match.

[smolsk]

Solace

I wrote this for Obey Me mctober’s Day 27 (Last Night in The Devildom) on my twitter for my Mc, Maya. The grammar and/or spelling isn’t perfect, so please bear with me on this one :3 

[Word Count: 4982]

----------

A week.

A week is all that is left in the Devildom student exchange program that Lord Diavolo had created nearly a year ago; Nearly a year of learning almost everything from the three realms, of trying to memorize every stairway, hall, and dead-end in RAD to not get lost in its massive corridors, of spending every second with the seven demon brothers she had grown so fond of.

It all ends in a week, and Maya felt lost.

On Monday she left her room to join the brothers downstairs for breakfast, barely having the energy to even get out of bed.

“Hey, Maya!” Mammon greeted her as they walk past each other in the hallway. “How’s my favorite human doing? Well- not my favorite favorite- I mean-” He cleared his throat. “How are you doing?”

Maya raised a brow. “I’m doing good. You?”

“Honestly, not that good.” The white-haired demon shrugged and looped an arm around her shoulders. “You only have a week left before you go back home, and I’m seriously gonna miss ya. Everyone will.”

“I’ll miss you too you know. Who’s gonna try to steal my wallet every morning when I’m back home now?” She smirked. “I saw you putting my wallet in your pocket, Mammon.”

“Aw come on, I almost had it!” Mammon exclaimed, handing it back.

They laughed for the rest of the walk downstairs.

-

Tuesday rolled in and Maya headed over to Leviathan’s room, holding up two bottles of cold orange juice and a bag of chips, yawning a bit every now and then. She needs to get some sleep soon.

She knocked gently at the door when she arrived. “Hey Levi, it’s me.”

When she heard a grunt of approval from the other side of the door, she let herself in.

“Oi normie, you’re late,” Levi told her, pausing the game he was playing on his DDD to look up at her. “Our anime marathon isn’t going to watch itself you know. Unless you’re too busy for a yucky otaku like me…” he grumbled the last part.

“Sorry about that.” Maya scooted over and sat beside him, placing the bottles and chips on the floor next to the pile of snacks Levi first brought. “And no, Lev, I’ll always have time for you and our weekly marathons.” She ruffled his purple hair.

“O- oi! Cut it out!” Levi swatted her hand away. “And besides, this is gonna be our last one.” His shoulders visibly slumped.

Maya gave him a gentle smile. “Let’s just make the most of it then.”

They played the last few episodes of their anime in each other’s company, loudly singing the opening songs until their throats were sore. The orange juice bottles lay on the floor; condensed, forgotten.

-

She sat on the couch with Satan in the common room on Wednesday night, both with a book in hand. It was quiet, as all the others in the house of lamentation are asleep (all except for Lucifer, who’s pulling another all-nighter for the third night in a row in his room), nevertheless, they both didn’t mind the comfortable silence that surrounded them.

“Still can’t sleep?” The blonde asked her, putting the book he was reading down on his lap.

“Yeah.” Maya sighed. “I have a lot on my mind, that’s all.” The bags under her eyes are starting to get visible by the faint glow of the fireplace.

“If you want, I can let you borrow some of my books when you get back home.” Satan suggested, “To keep you company in case this occurs again.”

“Yes, if that’s alright with you, that is.”

“Everything’s alright if it’s you, Maya.” He smiled at her, closing his book. “Come on, it’s time for bed.”

“You’re not even my mom!” Maya laughed softly.

“But I am older than you.” The blonde laughed back.

The fire danced in their eyes, crackling softly as the wood burned in its brick walls.

-

When Asmodeus saw Maya at RAD on Thursday afternoon, he let out a loud, dramatic shriek.

“Oh, honey!” He exclaimed, rushing over to her. “You look so pale!” He cupped her cheeks as he scanned her features, horrified.

“What do you mean?” Maya asked him, voice muffled from her cheeks being squished by the avatar of lust. “I’m okay, Asmo. Don’t worry.”

Asmo didn’t take any of it, as he grabbed her hand and dragged her into one of the empty classrooms.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want to impose, but is something bothering you? You looked like you haven’t had any sleep in days.” He asked her, hands gently resting on her shoulders.

The pink-haired demon considered the silence that followed it as a yes, and removed his hands from her shoulders to cup her cheeks.

“Do you want me to do something? Anything? I can call Lucifer and the others-”

Maya cut him off.

“No, please don’t tell them. I’m fine, Asmo.”

Asmo sighed, tucking away a stray strand of hair behind her ear with his finger. “Okay, I won’t force you to tell me anything. But if I see your condition worsen even a tiny bit, I will tell Lucifer about it, okay? Wouldn’t want you to look awful on your last days here, right?” He tried to lighten the mood.

“Right.” Maya smiled at him. “Want to grab a bite before we head home?”

“Of course, darling!” He beamed, “I still need to update my devilgram story!”

She laughed. “Well, what are we waiting for? let’s go!” It was now her turn to grab his hand and lead her out of the classroom.

Asmo didn’t point out that her laugh was forced that day.

-

Beelzebub found her in the kitchen on Friday, fixing herself a cup of coffee.

“Maya.” He called out, walking over to her side at the kitchen counter.

She turned around when she heard his voice. “Oh hey, Beel! Good morning.” She greeted. “Fancy a cup of coffee with me? There’s also some leftover pasta in the fridge from last night’s dinner If you want.”

Beel eyed the obvious exhaustion prominent across her face. The bags under her eyes are noticeable now; dark, angry. Her eyes were glossed over and puffy; Beel would’ve guessed it was from recent crying.

“I think you really shouldn’t drink any coffee right now.” He told her, taking away her mug and downing the hot beverage down his throat. The drink burned his throat a bit, but he didn’t care.

“Hey!” Maya weakly protested, pouting that her coffee got taken away. “Why not?!” she questioned him.

“You look exhausted, Maya.” Beel pointed out. “Is there something bothering you recently? Having trouble with your tasks?”

Maya shook her head. “I just have a lot on my mind Beel, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“If you say so.” Beel nodded, moving toward the fridge. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” She told him. “I just ate.”

The demon hummed, opening the fridge and leaned down, practically inhaling whatever food that’s in there.

Maya leaned on the kitchen counter, picking on her nails as she listened to Beel’s rapid consumption of the fridge’s contents.

“Do you miss them?”

Maya looked back at his patch of orange hair that’s peeking out from behind the fridge door.

“Who?”

“Your family.”

Maya stayed silent for a moment. Beel stopped eating and turned to look at her.

“..Maya?”

Maya jumped when he suddenly called her name. “oh! Uh-” She cleared her throat. “I do, actually.”

Beel stood up and closed the fridge. There were bread crumbs on his cheeks.

“I just don’t think that they feel the same way for me.”

-

Saturday rolled in and Maya was being dragged away by the youngest brother.

“Belphegor, what are you doing?” Maya asked him, wrist sore from being tugged on too much.

He remained silent, his boots clicking on the steps as they ascended further into the stairway that led to the attic.

“Belph, I’m not in the mood to argue with you right now.” She told him. Her hand was going numb by the tightness of the demon’s grip.

“I’m not looking for a fight, Maya.” He retorted, opening the door to the attic and dragging her inside.

“Then what do you want?!” She tugged her hand free of his grasp. The blood slowly rushed back into her hand, her fists clenching.

“Beel’s concerned about you,” Belphie stated.

Maya went quiet.

Of course, Belphegor knew. It couldn’t be helped though, the twins are psychic.

The Avatar of Sloth decided to press further. “Maya, when was the last time you slept?”

She averted her eyes, choosing to look down on the cool wood flooring of his attic.

“I don’t know.”

He sighed, motioning for her to lay down on the bed. She hesitated, yet she eventually gave in.

She lay on the soft mattress of Belphie’s bed, the smell of fresh linen reaching her nose. She let out a breath.

Belphie then laid down beside her, sighing in content when his body landed on the silky sheets.

“I don’t get you,” Maya started, rolling over to her side to face him. “One day you’re breathing down my neck, looking for every chance to try and annoy me into snapping back, and the next you’re worried about me, dragging me into the attic, your attic, and insisting that I need to rest.”

“Because,” Belphie paused, thinking about what he wants to say next. “Because believe it or not you matter to me. No, to us. We care about you."

She hummed, rolling over once again so her back faces him. He scoots closer, choosing to place his arm over her waist; a sign of content, a sign of acceptance that they’re finally on the same page.

“Is there a reason why you can’t sleep?” Belphie asked. “If I may ask, does it have anything to do about you leaving on Monday?”

He could feel her stiffen beside him, relaxing a bit when he started to stroke her hair. The bleached part of her hair was almost gone now; she had cut it a month or two back when it started to become too long. She sighed.

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Then stay,” He offered. “Stay here with me and Beel.”

“I can’t,” Maya whispered.

“Then let’s just sleep.” Belphie closed his eyes. “You can do that for me, right?”

“I’ll try.”

-

Everything seemed fine on Sunday.

Lucifer offered to walk with her to the Demon Lord’s castle that day; They were heading over there to deal with her remaining paperwork so she could go back home without any issues.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, “You seem tense.”

Maya let out a shaky breath.

“I feel nervous, Luci.”

They walked through one of the streets in the Devildom. Maya could recognize a face or two from the bustling crowd in the stores; Demons she had acquainted with at RAD once. The lights from the streetlamps glowed above them, like little stars that twinkled in the night sky back in the human world. Back home.

The Avatar of Pride extended his hand, hovering ever so slightly above hers. “I could hold your hand if that would make you feel better.”

It did. A smile crept across Maya’s face when she felt his fingers laced with her own. Maya can feel the callouses on his palms; rough, yet so soft at the same time.

-

When they finally arrived in front of the castle grounds, the other exchange students were with Barbatos right outside the door waiting for them.

“Maya!” Luke called out in joy, moving away from his spot beside Simeon to run towards her.

“Go on,” Lucifer ushered her, hands finally pulling away. Maya missed the warmth of his hands against her cold ones.

The two met and engulfed each other in a tight hug, with Maya picking the little angel up to spin him around.

“Hello, Luke!” She greeted, as Luke giggled in her embrace. He smelled like freshly baked cookies and butter.

“Aren’t you excited?” The angel gawked at her. “We’re finally going home!”

Maya didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

She placed him down, and they headed over to the others, with Lucifer following right behind.

“How’s my favorite magic man?” Maya grinned at Solomon, raising a hand to give him a high-five.

“Nice to see you too, Maya.” He chuckled.

“Hello, Maya.” Simeon moved over and placed his hand on her head.

“Hello to you too, Simeon.”

“It seems that everyone is already here,” Barbatos hummed, pushing the doors leading to inside the demon lord’s castle.

“Come,” The demon butler gestured them all to come in. “Lord Diavolo is waiting.”

-

It was now Maya’s turn to be in the Lord Diavolo’s presence and her body involuntarily shook. She didn’t even know why she was shaking; She’s on good terms with the demon prince, even formed a close friendship along the way, so what was she even nervous about? The angels and Solomon saw her nervous stature and gave her a comforting look. She nodded at them in a silent thanks, before heading inside Diavolo’s office.

The moment she stepped inside, she was immediately engulfed in a big bear hug.

“Hello, Lord Diavolo.” Maya relaxed in his arms, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She has this strange feeling of safety despite the fact that she’s being hugged by the demon lord himself.

Lord Diavolo let out a booming laugh, “You look different,” He held up his large hand to hold her cheek. He frowned. “And pale. Have you been sleeping well?”

She shook her head. “It’s fine, my lord. I can just get back the sleep I lost once I go back home.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that you can call me Dia just fine?” Lord- no, Diavolo held her hand and guided her to his desk. Maya noticed Lucifer standing in a corner; calm, composed. He nodded at her in greeting.

“Okay, but it’s your fault if Lucifer punishes me later for calling you so informally.”

Diavolo chuckled and let her sit down on the seat across from him, and sat back in his chair as well.

“First things first,” He started, reaching for his drawer to grab something. “Do you want a lollipop?”

Maya raised her brow, a smile crept on her face in disbelief. She huffed a laugh.

“I’m kidding!” Diavolo laughed, putting it back. “That one’s saved for Luke.” He opened another drawer, finally fishing out her papers and grabbing a fountain pen that was sitting on his desk.

“Tell me, how was your stay here in the Devildom?” He asked as he flipped through the pages, wrote something down, then flipped once more.

“It’s alright,” Maya answered. She could hear the faint scribbling of his pen against the paper. Diavolo hummed, contemplating. “Any troubles with the students?”

She shrugged, fidgeting in her seat. She could feel a headache coming in soon. “The constant ruckus of them brawling with the brothers in an attempt to eat me alive, I am used to.” She explained. “Them not eating me and befriending me instead though… That’s new.”

Diavolo sighs, pausing whatever he writes in her papers. “I apologize for the trouble that must’ve caused you.”

“It’s okay, Dia.” She assured him.

The demon prince leaned back, stretching his back and fixing his posture. “I think we’re almost done here. Is there anything you want to suggest if ever there’s a chance for the exchange student program to start again next year?” He questioned.

“Other than sending my deepest condolences to the next human exchange student because they’re about to babysit the brothers for a whole year, no.”

That sent both her and the demon lord in a fit of laughter. Maya can hear Lucifer chuckle from his corner.

“Thank you, Maya.” Diavolo smiled. “Thank you for making this exchange program possible. Because of you, the program was a success. You can join the others outside now.”

Maya stood up from her seat and bowed at the Demon Lord. “Thank you as well.”

“For what?”

“For choosing me.”

Diavolo smiled. “My pleasure.”

Maya started to head over to the door when she stopped in her tracks.

Something was wrong.

She blinked. Once, twice. Everything seemed so blurry all of a sudden. The two demons behind her stared at her in confusion. “Maya?” Lucifer called her. “Are you okay?”

Maya looked back at them, squinting to try and refocus her eyes. Her head was pounding like someone dropped a bag of bricks on it. “Yeah, I'm just-” She tried to assure him, a hand raising to give him a thumbs up. “I’m just tired, that’s all.” Her hand was shaking violently.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” It was Diavolo’s turn to ask her, rising from his seat in alarm, concerned.

“I’m-”

And then everything she ever felt that week suddenly came down at her, coming together to form the worst migraine she ever experienced. The room blurred more, with splotches of black mixed in her obscured vision. She felt dizzy. She felt sick. The last thing she saw before the darkness consumed her was a blurry Diavolo, running over to catch her from falling.

After all, the human body could only endure so much.

-

When Maya regained consciousness, she found herself wrapped up in a soft blanket. She sat up, shrugging the blanket off her upper half, despite her head violently protesting. She squinted, eye-ing her surroundings in an attempt to figure out where she is. The moonlight illuminated the room she was in, making it easy for her to look around.

There are large paintings hung up on the walls of people Maya couldn’t recognize, her vision still slightly blurry. She looked down; the bed she woke up in was massive, like she could roll over it for hours and won’t even fall off. Like it’s fit for a king.

For a king.

Maya immediately realized who this bed belonged to. She tensed, eyes frantically searching the room for him.

And then their eyes met; dark brown eyes swimming, drowning in his golden orbs, like two suns shining down on the Earth. Warm, loving, relieved.

Diavolo sat on a chair beside the bed, his bed, hand reaching over to hold hers tight. A look of relief was evident on his face as he let out a breath he’s been holding.

He called for Barbatos to go get the others, her hand still in his as if she would disappear if he dared to let go.

“I’m glad you’re alright.” He smiled.

Maya just stared at him.

“What happened?”

Diavolo frowned, “You suddenly collapsed. I had Barbatos prepare my bed and I carried you all the way here. I also had him inform the brothers as well. You’ve been asleep ever since.”

She furrowed her brows, “How long was I out?”

“Twenty hours, give or take.”

-

The moment Barbatos announced that Maya was alright, everyone immediately scrambled over to the demon lord’s chambers, door opening so violently it would probably come off of its hinges.

“Maya!” Mammon cried, rushing over to where she laid and hugged her tight, his wet tears dampening her shirt. Asmodeus followed suit, bawling loudly next to his white-haired brother. His tears stained his face, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.

Leviathan and Satan rushed in next, roughly shoving each other when they both entered the door at the same time in an attempt to free themselves from getting stuck.

The twins went in after them; Beelzebub was shaking violently, big fat tears rolling down his face. His hand grasped Belphegor’s tightly. His twin visibly winced at his grip.

Lucifer entered last, sighing in disbelief at his brothers’ behavior, but nevertheless relieved that Maya is finally awake. Barbatos is beside him, face stoic as ever. His eyes met hers, a silent message shared between them.

‘I’m glad you’re alright.’

Maya said nothing.

-

“Sorry about the mess,” The oldest brother sighed, closing the door behind him. “The others are going to follow shortly; Simeon and Solomon are still trying to comfort Luke.”

“What were you thinking?!” Levi exclaimed, “We were so worried about you, you normie!”

“You scared us, Maya!” Mammon sniffled beside her, “Please don’t ever do that again, ya hear me?”

Maya smiled.

And then she laughed.

And then the tears started falling.

The brothers rushed over and sat on the corner of the Demon Prince’s bed in alarm.

“Oh no, honey!” Asmo wailed as Maya tried so hard to wipe her tears. She couldn’t help it, it won’t stop flowing out.

“I’m sorry,” She choked, “I’m so sorry.”

Every time a tear strayed down her flushed cheeks, a part of her goes with it.

They all sat in silence, giving her a chance to break down her walls and finally let it all out. Diavolo squeezed her hand gently, quietly telling her that it’s okay to talk about it.

“I’m just so tired,” Maya told them, hiccuping every now and then as her body trembled in Mammon and Asmo’s arms. “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t even get out of my own damn bed. Heck, I couldn’t even barely process anything. There are so many things running in my head right now. So many things, and it’s driving me insane. It’s making me feel afraid. I don’t want to go back home, I don’t want to be alone again. I know I can’t stay, but the place I live in back home can’t even be called a home. No light, no warmth, no one to go back home to. But here… I feel like I belong, like I have a family that cared about me and I… I love you guys so much that I’m afraid to lose it all.”

When she was finished, nobody uttered a word. Maya tensed, scared.

“I’m sorry,” She sucked in a breath. Her throat was sore from all the crying. “I shouldn’t have-”

She was suddenly engulfed by all of the brothers in what seemed like the best hug she ever had in her entire life; They weren’t like the hugs they would give her every time they go their separate ways in RAD’s hallways, they weren’t like the hugs they would give her whenever they would laugh when someone cracks a joke.

No, this hug was special.

It made her feel loved for the first time.

“Maya!” They all cooed, “We love you too!”

Maya burst into tears.

-

By the time they all broke their hug after what seemed like hours, the door opened once more as Barbatos let the angels and Solomon in.

Luke was sobbing in Simeon’s arms, making little hand gestures at Maya in an attempt to reach her.

“Barbatos told us what happened,” Simeon moved towards her and gave her a look of understanding. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that.”

Maya weakly nodded, “It’s okay, Simeon. It’s not your fault.”

“Maya!” Luke sniffled, finally calming down when Simeon placed him on the bed next to her. “Thank God you’re alright now!”

She smiled at him, running her fingers through his soft blond hair. “I’m sorry for making you worry, Luke. Will you accept my apology?”

“Apology accepted!” The little angel cried, hugging her tight.

-

It was time for all of them to go back home. They all exchanged one final hug with Maya. Lucifer insisted her to stay in Diavolo’s room that night, the oldest brother convinced that she needed to rest before going back home.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t go home with you all tonight.” Maya told them, “I hope you all have a safe trip back home.” She ran her fingers through Luke’s hair one last time.

“No worries,” Simeon hummed, “It’s okay to rest every once in a while.”

“I’ll promise to write to you every day!” Luke declared, eyes watering a bit. “You better read them.”

“Oh, Luke.” Maya softened, kissing the angel’s forehead. “I will cherish them all.”

Luke beamed.

“Well I guess this is goodbye,” She nodded at Solomon.

“This isn’t goodbye, Maya,” The sorcerer assured her, “It’s more like a “See you later” thing, you know? We’ll see each other again - I promise.” He winked.

“Thank you for listening to me.”

“No, thank you,” They told her. “Thank you for trusting us.”

-

After they were escorted back outside by Barbatos, It was now the brothers’ turn to say goodbye.

“I’m seriously going to miss you guys.” Maya smiled at them.

“You better!” Mammon was tearing up again beside her.

Maya sighed, lifting her hand to wipe away his tear. “It’ll be fine, Mammon. I’m sure I can still see you sooner or later.”

A thought formed in her head, “Which reminds me…” Her hand dove under the sheets and fished out her wallet. “Here, you can have it.” She placed it on the demon’s hands.

“What?”

“You can have it,” Maya repeated, a smile forming on her face. “Besides, I can’t exactly use Grimm back home, right?”

Mammon sniffled, then immediately threw his hands around her. He was crying now.

“Oi, normie,” Levi called her, “Don’t you dare forget about us.”

“Oh Levi,” Maya motioned him to come closer so he too can join their hug. “How could I forget you?”

The avatar of envy averted his eyes, blushing immensely, before finally joining them.

Satan stepped forward and ruffled her hair. “Do you still want the books I’ll lend you?”

Maya can’t stop smiling. “Always.”

The blonde hummed, “I’m gonna miss you, Maya.” He then moved away.

Asmo practically threw himself over Maya, landing against his two older brothers.

“Hey! Watch it!” Mammon growled from under him.

“Asmo-”

“Maya!” He bawled, peppering Maya’s face with kisses. “Take care of yourself more okay? Remember to drink enough water and eat!”

Maya laughed, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I promise, Asmo.”

The three demons immediately pulled away from their hug when they saw Beel approaching at a rapid pace. They didn’t want to get crushed by the Avatar of Gluttony’s huge stature.

“Hey there big guy,” Maya whispered, chuckling a bit when he trapped her in a bone-crushing hug.

“If you can, talk to your family for me?” He muttered, his purple eyes glossed over.

Maya closed her eyes. She sighed, “I’ll try, Beel.”

Belphie slid in between them, “So, can we all three sleep together now?”

Maya giggled, gently patting the youngest brother’s soft hair. “Soon, Belph. Soon.”

When they both finally pulled away, Lucifer approached her.

“If anything goes wrong,” He cupped her cheek with his gloved hand. “Just remember that you’ll always have a home with me. With us.”

She softened in his touch. Those were the words she always wanted to hear.

“Thank you,” She breathed, “I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime.” The oldest brother gave her one of his rare smiles, stepping back.

“I shall escort you seven to the door now,” Barbatos announced, reminding the brothers that it is time to go.

“See you later, Maya!” Mammon grinned, walking towards the door with the others.

“I’ll leave her to you, my Lord.” Lucifer nodded towards Diavolo, who was beside Barbatos.

“Don’t worry,” Diavolo assured them, “She’s in good hands.”

“Good night, Barb!” Maya called out to the demon butler as he accompanied the brothers outside. Barbatos smiled at her, before closing the door.

Diavolo was the only one that stayed behind.

“Move over,” He blurted out.

“What?”

“Move over. I want to cuddle you.”

-

“Tell me something about yourself.”

“Like what?”

“What did you like to do back home?”

Maya hummed, thinking hard. “I liked listening to theater.”

“Really?” Diavolo’s eyes shone in astonishment beside her, arms holding her close. “Can you tell me more?”

She giggled, amused at his reactions. “I had a dog while growing up. From what I can recall, I think we named him Kev. He was tiny; like a little white cloud zooming around in my family’s kitchen. Yet he had these big blue eyes; two sapphires, my mother would call them. But five-year old-Maya thought otherwise. They told me I thought of them as planets.” She paused, “I wish I had more memories of him to tell you. He passed away when I was eight.”

“I’m sure he was a good dog,” Diavolo assured her, a hand reaching up to play with her hair.

“He was one of the best,” Maya smiled at the memory.

-

“How long are you going to stay here?” She asked him.

“Until you fall asleep,” Diavolo answered. He was resting his chin on her head now.

“It’s okay if you need to go,” Maya sighed, “I know you’re busy running the Devildom. You’ve done so much for me already. You probably think of me as a burden right now.”

“No, you’re not.” He told her, “I won’t hate you. I won’t think of you as a burden. I know you think that’s what you deserve but it’s not. I want to stay with you.”

“Stay with me?” Maya repeated.

“As long as I get to hold your hand,” The demon prince chuckled, sheepish.

“Okay.”

Maya’s heart was caught in her throat when Diavolo’s hand slipped into hers, intertwining their fingers together.

It wasn’t weird. It wasn’t wrong. It was Diavolo.

They stayed like that for a while, relaxing in the comfortable silence. Diavolo suddenly broke the stillness when he breathed out a laugh.

Maya looked up at him, “What’s on your mind?” She questioned.

He smiled, “You.”

At that moment Maya realized that he was close. So close.

Diavolo seemed to notice it too. He leaned in, ever so carefully. He stopped when his lips were barely touching hers.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

One look in their eyes and nothing more is said. They could tell they both wanted the same thing; the look they both had is what gave it away.

And then their lips met.

Their kiss was not at all the same as those romance movies Maya watched with the brothers. It wasn’t anything like how they described it in Satan’s novels. It didn’t feel like those rough kisses she had heard in Asmo’s stories.

This one was different. This one was soft.

It felt like laying in bed after a long day. It felt like rain in summer. It felt like the first bite into warm bread. It felt like living.

Yeah, Maya found her place. That place was wherever Diavolo was.

-

It was Monday when Maya woke up back in her apartment.

She was cold, she was alone. But she was loved.

She smiled.

Oh, so loved.

[purplesurveys]

841

All About the Letter L

Please List! (at least one) Animals I Like: Lions, lemurs, lamb, and a special mention to Lhasa Apsos because Gabie’s family has one, even though Harley never particularly liked me haha. Foods I Like: LUMPIA, liempo, lasagna, and lobster.    I Know Someone Who’s (jobs): Lab assistant, librarian, lawyer, and lecturer. I Wouldn’t Mind Visiting: Luxembourg, Laos, and Lisbon, Portugal. Sometimes I Feel: Lethargic, let-down, lonely.

Music I Listen To: Lady Gaga, LANY, Lauv, Lykke Li, Lianne La Havas, and Lea Salonga. Movies I’ve Seen: Love Actually, The Little Mermaid, Lolita, Lucy, Life is Beautiful, Les Misérables. Names I Like: Lily, Lorin, Loretta, Lucia. And now, onto the random questions! 1. Have you ever locked yourself out of your house before? Not on purpose. Once when I was in fourth grade the school bus dropped me off but there was no one home (at that point I wasn’t given my own key yet) so my sister and I had to wait around half an hour till someone got back home. Other times I always had a house key with me. 2. Do you like green leaves or autumn colored leaves? Idk we don’t get autumn, so I’ll go with green. 3. Are you a sore loser at games? Yeaaaaaaaah haha it’s an ugly fucking trait of mine. I’ve treated everything like a competition for as long as I can remember and I was the worst kid to play with. 4. Are you a good listener? Yes. I prefer to listen than to do the talking, so I’ve gotten better at it through the years. 5. Who do you like? Who do you love? I like my friends; I love my dogs and my girlfriend. 6. Lamps - do you have wall ones, table ones, or freestanding tall ones in your house? My parents have wall lamps in their room. My mom was actually looking at floor lamps for the living room just recently, but she didn’t push through with buying one, idk why. 7. How often do you use the library? Back in my first year it was my sanctuary because I had no friends. The library was the only place where you can be alone and not feel judged for it. When my circle got bigger, I’d only go there to print stuff and that happened at least once a week. 8. Do you own a label maker? Do you label everything to stay organized? No, I don’t own one. Funny how my favorite TV characters – Monica Geller and Amy Santiago – both have a penchant for being organized and have their own label makers though haha. 9. Do you prefer lip gloss or lipstick? Lip gloss. Lipstick has always looked too strong on me. 10. Have you ever done the limbo? As a kid. It’s not a common game here but because we saw it a lot when we’d watch kids’ shows from the west, my siblings, cousins, and I would play it. 11. Have you ever played “The Floor is Lava”? Sure. 12. Is YOUR mama a llama? An occasionally emotionally abusive one, sure. 13. Do you lick your ice cream or just bite into it like some sort of savage? I take forever to eat ice cream so I’ve learned to bite it so that it doesn’t end up dripping all over my hands. 14. Do you know anyone who has lung cancer? Walter White. Hahaaaaaaa seriously though, no one. 15. Have you ever gotten lost before? Yeah, but those instances were nothing Waze couldn’t fix. I think I��d get an anxiety attack if I ever got legitimately lost with no map or app to help me. 16. Do you lounge around like a lazy sloth? If I know I’ve earned the right to, yes. 17. What little things make you happy? Driving through green lights, seeing a smiley face on my Starbucks cup, kind strangers, free cuts, finding a top I thought I’ve lost, babies waving at me. 18. Are you a loud or quiet person? I can be both, depending on who I’m with, what the circumstances are, and how comfortable I am. 19. What do you like to eat for lunch? I’ve skipped on lunch since March since my family eats breakfast really late lol. But back in school, since I’m usually on the go during lunch hours, I’ll just get a plate of instant noodles with a side of kwek-kwek. 20. Are you a list-maker? Yaaas. Love lists. 21. Have you ever had lice? Just when I was around 10 when I still played outside.  22. How much weight can you lift? I’m a really small person so not a lot, but by the end of my PE class last year I was able to deadlift either 80 or 90 lbs, I’m not sure which. It’s not a big number but I weigh 90 lbs myself sksksksk so I’m happy enough with being able to lift my own weight haha. 23. The last pair of shoes you wore - did they have laces? Yep. 24.  Do you litter? Never. 25.  Have you ever written or received a love letter? No, actually. Gab has other ways of expressing herself so I’m okay with it. 26. Are you a liar? How often do you tell lies? I’m honestly quite incapable of lying. I can say little white lies like “I liked your article” but anything beyond that I just feel too guilty doing. 27.  what do you do when you feel low on energy? Spend time with Kimi, get away from my phone, and lie down somewhere. 28.  Have you ever ridden in a limousine before? I haven’t. 29.  How often do you do laundry? My parents do it once a week. 30. How many languages can you speak fluently? Two. With enough context clues I can read a bit of Spanish and Cebuano, but I definitely can’t speak them. [a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[chaotiicgoods]

CHARACTER INTRODUCTION

BASICS !

NAME . Finnick Odair

NICKNAMES . Finn

AGE . 14-25

SPECIES . Human

PERSONAL !

MORALITY . lawful / chaotic / neutral / true / reckless

RELIGION . Atheist 

SINS . greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy / wrath

VIRTUES . chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice

KNOWN LANGUAGES . English, some dialect from district 4

SECRETS . His main secret is that the Capitol forced him into prostitution after he won the 65th Hunger Games, but he also has a lot of secrets for people in the Capitol; he basically has a flirty personality that isn’t really his but he still has to use it for the Capitol. His love for Annie Cresta also remains a secret for a long time, as a way to protect her from the Capitol. 

PHYSICAL !

BUILD . scrawny / bony / slender / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / pudgy / average

HEIGHT . 5'10″

SCARS / BIRTHMARKS . He has a couple of scars due to his combats in the arena on the arms, chest and back. 

ABILITIES / POWERS . He knows how to fight using a trident, a spear and a knife, he also knows how to do some nets and to tie knows, and he’s good at fighting in the water 

RESTRICTIONS . He’s overprotective toward his loved-ones, which could make him do reckless things for their well-being. 

FAVORITES !

FOOD . Seafoods

DRINK . Water, but otherwise white wine

PIZZA TOPPING . Shrimps and onions

COLOR . Sea green

MUSIC GENRE . Rock

BOOK GENRE . Historical

MOVIE GENRE . Comedy

CURSE WORD . Fuck

FUN STUFF !

BOTTOM OR TOP . Switch

SINGS IN THE SHOWER . He totally could, but not if he’s at the Capitol

LIKES PUNS . It depends, but generally yes :P

Tagged by : @mistcity​, thank you :D 

Tagging : @fandomvariety​ (Gloss) @fallsekings​ (Haymitch) @multimuse-rp​ (Peeta) @thegoodandthegreat​ (Gale) & YOU ;D

[ohsh1t2wksl8]

All About the Letter L

Please List! (at least one) Animals I Like: Foods I Like: I Know Someone Who’s (jobs) I Wouldn’t Mind Visiting: Sometimes I Feel: Music I Listen To: Movies I’ve Seen: Names I Like: And now, onto the random questions! 1. Have you ever locked yourself out of your house before? 2. Do you like green leaves or autumn colored leaves? 3. Are you a sore loser at games? 4. Are you a good listenier? 5. Who do you like? Who do you love? 6. Lamps - do you have wall ones, table ones, or freestanding tall ones in your house? 7. How often do you use the library? 8. Do you own a label maker? Do you label everything to stay organized? 9. Do you prefer lip gloss or lipstick? 10. Have you ever done the limbo? 11. Have you ever played “The Floor is Lava”? 12. Is YOUR mama a llama? 13. Do you lick your ice cream or just bite into it like some sort of savage? 14. Do you know anyone who has lung cancer? 15. Have you ever gotten lost before? 16. Do you lounge around like a lazy sloth? 17. What little things make you happy? 18. Are you a loud or quiet person? 19. What do you like to eat for lunch? 20. Are you a list-maker? 21. Have you ever had lice? 22. How much weight can you lift? 23. The last pair of shoes you wore - did they have laces? 24.  Do you litter? 25.  Have you ever written or received a love letter? 26. Are you a liar? How often do you tell lies? 27.  what do you do when you feel low on energy? 28.  Have you ever ridden in a limousine before? 29.  How often do you do laundry? 30. How many languages can you speak fluently? [a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[madamhatter]

koagema inquired: “i’m having trouble sleeping by myself... can you sleep with me?” UNPROMPTED ASKS | ALWAYS WELCOMED | @koagema​

Laying across the couch in the girl’s dormitory, the young Hatter’s head rested down the armrest as her hands were preoccupied with holding a Nintendo Switch close to her face. A small brunette avatar breezes through a stroll through the lengths of flower field she personally grew on her island. A phantom of a smile appears as the Hatter looks over her progress. Redesigned island with her museum, tailor shop, and general store scattered throughout the island and specific neighborhoods in place, divided by wilderness, the naturalistic approach warmed her. 

Beyond the horizon, strokes of purple and orange are brushed across the virtual sky as the sun’s light begins fading, mirroring the course of the day outside of the dormitory windows. An idyllic scene painted in the young hatter’s mind - bliss appearing and coloring the atmosphere with long-sought comfort she wished for so long. However, what completed the scene wasn’t in her line of sight -- it was quite literally under her nose.

Short and curled poppy-pink locks greet her as she finally looks down. Chiaki, in great lengths in her cat mannerisms, lays out in similar fashion like her own. However, what cushioned the back the gamer happened to be an odd point of interest for her -- Sophie’s own chest. While all the more curious as to remember how these arrangements and comfortableness of their positions came to be, the Hatter willed herself to pay little attention to rationality and logic for the evening. 

Already out of common attire, Sophie was comfortably in an oversized green hoodie with mismatched socks of purple and gray. Her locks of dark copper were bunched up into a bun, lazily kept together with several pins as the strands of true silver and dyed brown fell out. She glanced down over her ‘friend,’ inspecting at how strange the situation was all together. For Chiaki, the change and aesthetic of the clothing were usual -- casual and always looks like she was ready to sleep. A too-large shirt for her frame, a rather ironic ‘Resident Evil’ graphic tee when they were playing such a gentle game, conveniently lengthen shorts and long pairs of white socks as both her feet and Sophie’s feet were tangled together on the couch.

For half a second, I look like a normal teenager, Sophie muses to herself, brows raising at the observation. Though she looks down, observing the ever-so-focused Chiaki tapping away at the buttons and holding down the analog stick. Something lingered on Sophie’s expression -- a rare but small smile, a shine in her eyes, and a hidden adoration underneath it all.  And we look like a...

Immediate misdirection needed and the hatter shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut.  The world now dark, she takes a soft breath with her mind taking the forefront. Stop that. Don’t you start with that mess now. It’s nice and quiet. Do not be selfish and ruin it. Forced blink after the other, the hatter swallows the blatant mystery that was their relationship, but she continues on.

Yet, repressing is was going to be a challenge. Elephant in the room aside, she couldn’t help but watch her. Chiaki’s cursing has made its presence anytime the two indulge in these slothful times. Sophie wouldn’t be able to hold back a soft laugh before she quietly inquiring about the current irk in Chiaki’s game and providing encouragement. Soft conversation between the two would occur, the other adjusting slowly against the other, with a cuddle and a mutter under their breath.

And now, the flutter returns to her chest, a veil of rosy now glossing her eyes, as the next breath she takes was a heart-filled sigh...

.....And she found herself to have been locking eyes with Chiaki Nanami. An intensity underneath her cloudy grey gaze, the gamer was removed from her game. All attention only fixed between the two girls on the couch, and the loudest sound was the racket in Sophie’s chest. A stuttered breath as the brunette's joints locked, shoulders spiking. The color of embarrassment surged through her pale complexion, ruining the facade of composure and maturity she had been so well known for. 

Almost snapping her head back, the Ultimate Hatter uses the armrest to full advantage -- locking eyes elsewhere and allowing her reddened face to fade. Why was I staring for such long? How odd of me! I shouldn’t staring! God, she noticed it and must think that I’m more outlandish as is. 

Hidden behind those eyes, what laid in her thoughts, was all too far away for her to comprehend. Guilt panged in her chest and she drew her lips into her mouth, roughly chewing the insides of her cheeks. If she kept it up, she’d sooner have iron flavoring the inside of her mouth. 

“My apologies--” She forces her eyes shut, grip shaking and her right leg twitching. Once more, a forced breath leaves her, resilient to fall apart at this current state. She lifts her head again, yet her eyes slowly obscure what was in front of her -- if she dared to look at Chiaki, she dared to think that her heart would stop altogether. And wouldn’t that be a nice way to go?

However, something greeted the hatter’s ears. The gamer had placed down her gaming device on Sophie’s chest, she had taken a breath (was it because she needed to figure out how to make this scene less awkward or she was giving herself time to think of something to say? Sophie ponders).

<I’m having trouble sleeping by myself... can you sleep with me?>

Both of the hatter’s brows knit together, eyes widening -- perplexion fiddling what already little composure she holds whenever she was nearby the shorter girl. Putting the gaming device gently onto the ground beside the couch, hesitantly and cautious fingers reach out. Warm and hollow fingers extend and brush against the other’s warmer cheeks, Sophie’s brows now lowering and her lips now agape

Sophie Hatter should’ve been used to being winded by the sporadic happening at Hope’s Peak Academy. Plenty of hijinks corroborated across the Main Course students and with most others, like herself, dragged into it, there were numerous scenarios on an endless list of proof that she could recall. Despite this, there were other cases that fell short of Sophie having ever experienced them-- one of them being a genuine attraction.

Index finger fiddles along and twirls a strand of poppy pink lock, worrisome eyes roaming over the gamer’s expression, drinking in every last detail she memorized each time she saw her face. Pools of bright gray, never too stormy or gloomy like rain clouds, yet as calming like rain hitting the glass panes back home. A lingering reminder of sleeplessness, familiar yet well-hidden bags underneath her eyes But, they don’t stain her face like it does to mine. 

Calloused palm now cups across the softness of the other’s cheek, another hand playing along with every strand it could find. She had half the mind to--...

“Of course, Miss Nanami, I know how hard it is to sleep sometimes. Having someone, I could only imagine it can maybe make it easier. I’m not too sure about that, but I’m willing to help you in whichever way I can. Let’s save before we do--” 

Understanding nod aside, Sophie’s cheeks blossomed with a rosy shade and she runs her thumb across the apples of Chiaki’s cheek. A bashful smile emerges, eyes closing, wanting to assure Chiaki in any way she could, wanting to provide in all that she can...after all, that’s all that Sophie Hatter was good for. But, it didn’t sting so much this time around to be used, if it meant to be with her.

As quietly and quickly as the two moved to the Gamer’s room, unable to contain their whispers and sputters of giggles, they both had easily fallen asleep when they laid by another.

Tangled underneath thick sheets, Sophie Hatter could only reminisce the kindness of Chiaki’s touch. What pooled in her dreams were peonies blooming and lavender scenting the air on a open-wide field by a small home hidden in a flowery meadow. 

Her body involuntarily moves, fingers stretching out, reaching out to something. Another softer hand slithered underneath the palm of Sophie’s hand, curling out and in again, occupying the spaces between her marred digits. A gentle squeeze before their hands interlocked again, Sophie’s body returning to peace.

Breath drawn, the slumbering brunette grazed her forehead against a touch she still yearned for -- against Chiaki’s shoulder. Her arm had already rested above the pinkette’s side, holding her close. Sophie’s chest to Chiaki’s back, their breathing slowly and following another in rhythm, pools of copper, silver, and pink mixing together from what little space didn’t exist between their bodies.

All this touch, it was something kept minimal on campus, even when they were awake and alone together. Yet, it was only when their minds drifted and forgotten about the world that their closeness existed in a space that neither of them could yet speak of, but both pined for. 

And it made the dream all the sweeter.

[asters-garden]

The revamped Seven Deadly Sins! pride: a mother who never shares her recipes with her family because of how protective she is of them as they gain her many a praise

Lust: an asexual artist who's paintings are lust for life with artwork of beautiful landscapes and still lives

Gluttony: a dog that always begs for more and more treats and bites you if you withhold them

Sloth: your cubicle neighbor who makes rubber band balls all day and takes 15 smoke breaks a day even though you've never even seen him near a pack

Envy: a middle school girl who does petty lip gloss theft

Greed: a twitch streamer obsessed with having more and more subscriptions, they hide as a do nothing soft-core streamer

Wrath: Wrath hides as a shitty ex bf who always yelled at others when playing online multi-player games

so sick of stereotypical 7 deadly sins character designs i want lust to be a weirdo shut-in with 47 different fetishes who buys feet pics, not a sexy man and/or woman in a corset.

[vicecityhq]

██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...

WITNESS(ES) SAY THEY REMIND THEM OF: broken porcelain, cherry lip gloss, backlit keyboards, butterscotch, bloody lace . With a slight resemblance to MARIS RACAL of/the ACTRESS.

CLICK BELOW TO VIEW ENTIRE FILE.

FULL FILE:

last name, first name: Lim, Maja alias: Manika realm of birth (if earth, nationality): unknown age: immortal, appears to be in mid-20s gender:  female preferred pronouns: she/her Species: enchanted doll   Occupation: streamer, freelance software developer sexual orientation: pansexual any associated/owned businesses: n/a

VISUAL FILE: 

skin color: tan eye color: brown Scars: n/a piercings:  n/a tattoos: n/a hair color: brown abnormalities: n/a horns/ wings/ etc: n/a transformed form: n/a

RELIGIOUS BELIEF: athiest

SINS:  lust /  gluttony  /  greed /  sloth /  envy /  wrath /  pride

VIRTUES: chastity   /   temperance /   charity  /  diligence   /  kindness /   patience  /   humility  

KNOWN LANGUAGES:    english, tagalog, korean

SECRETS:    does cam girling on the side. She’s not strapped for cash; she simply takes pleasure in being ‘simped.’

SAVVIES: programming, video gaming, streaming

Powers & Abilities: pain immunity, mental manipulation through direct eye contact & a spoken statement, object puppetry, the ability to use magic that is malevolent in nature, supernatural beauty

Traits:   + creative  -  rebellious

BACKGROUND CHECK:

Date of Birth:  

Date of Death:   [ if applying for an undead character ]

Crime Record:   when it comes to her freelance gigs, Maja is pretty morally liberal about who she chooses to work with. she's obtained personal information via unlawful means and created data-mining plugins on request.

Background/Biography:

Maja was not so much born as she was created. She's aware that she has a creator but cannot remember who they were or their purpose in making her. She once tried to track them down – but that’s ancient history. After abandoning that fruitless pursuit, Maja decided to determine her own purpose. Admittedly, this hasn't been as fulfilling as she'd wished. The gnawing ache of emptiness in her gut persists. What is her purpose here? Is she a being of good or evil? Do such binaries even exist? In the pursuing years, she busied herself with various pursuits to distract herself from these nagging questions. She learned English and Korean, earned a degree in software development in Seoul, and established herself as a relatively successful video game streamer, which, in combination with freelance software developing/programming gigs, is how she presently pays the bills.

Perhaps the most confounding thing about Maja Lim is that she is a hopeless romantic. She wants love – real love – perhaps more than anything else in the world. She wears her heart on her sleeve. Well, around her neck, to be more precise. The little glass heart strung up around her dolly neck was given to her by her maker. Perhaps it is reckless of her to keep her 'heart' out in the open like that, but what is love but not a calculated risk?

INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer

“I’m sorry, officer,” she said, ‘It’s all a bit of a blur….”

Maja weighs the benefits of playing with the man before her. Bleary-eyed, slumped shoulders, probably desperate for another cup of coffee. How many had he had that day? Three, four, five? He must’ve been on the clock for a while; an Agdoeg cop's job is never done. She’d feel bad for him if she didn’t hate cops on principle. That might’ve been reason enough to waste his time, but she knew she’d be wasting her own, too. A new episode of her favorite drama was airing in an hour. She’d hate to miss it.

The officer stared at her, waiting for her to go on. She stared back, innocent doe eyes with pitch-black pupils -- the shadow of a shark in deep waters. She leaned over the table as though she was about to share an intimate secret. Then, in a low voice meant only for him, she said, “You’re going to let me walk out of her. You’re going to tell your superiors that I knew nothing, that the interview was a wash. And then, when I’m out the door, you’ll forget everything about me.”

And so it was.

The officer walked her out of the station and Maja made it home just in time to watch her show. So why did she still feel so sad? She supposed that when you always got everything you wanted, you ceased to want anything at all.

"What shit," Maja said aloud in her empty apartment.

[ilistenedin]

1. On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?

3

1. Describe yourself in a hashtag?

#lethargic

1. If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?

No one comes to mind.

1. If your life was a musical, what would the marquee say?

How To Let All Your Past Trauma Take Control of Your Present Life

1. What’s one thing people don’t know about you?

There’s plenty of things.

1. What’s your wakeup ritual?

I don’t have one, really. I wake up, check my phone, crawl to the bathroom, and then just exist.

1. What’s your go to bed ritual?

Decide it’s time for bed, pop melatonin and advil, depending on my anxiety levels I smoke a little, lay in bed for 5 hours unable to sleep.

1. What’s your favorite time of day?

Sunset and night time

1. What is one thing no one knows about you?

No one knows

1. Dream country to visit?

France

1. What’s the biggest surprise you’ve had?

My sister surprised me with MCR tickets... and then the world ended

1. Heels or flats/sneakers?

Sneakers

1. Vintage or new?

Both

1. Who do you want to write your obituary?

My cats

1. Style icon?

I don’t really have one.

1. What are three things you can’t live without?

Food, water, and bed.

1. What’s one ingredient you put in everything?

Garlic

1. What 3 people living or dead would you like to make dinner for?

Gerard Way, Evan Rachel Wood, and I can’t think of anyone else

1. What’s your biggest fear in life?

Being unliked. Or hurting others. Or losing loved ones.

1. Window or aisle seat?

Window.

1. What’s your current TV obsession?

Attack on Titan.

1. Favorite app?

Twitter

1. Secret talent?

None of my talents are secret.

1. Most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life?

Travel to the Philippines for 5 weeks.

1. How would you define yourself in three words?

Selfish. Lazy. Mediocre.

1. Favorite piece of clothing you own?

Birkenstock’s? Or any one of my hoodies.

1. Must have clothing item everyone should have?

Comfortable jeans.

1. Superpower you would want?

Telekinesis.

1. What’s inspiring you in life right now?

Nothing.

1. Best piece of advice you’ve received?

I can’t think of anything cause I never follow anyone’s advice.

1. Best advice you’d give your teenage self?

Stop looking for approval from men.

1. A book that everyone should read?

Honestly can’t think of one. Not everything is for everyone.

1. What would you like to be remembered for?

Trying.

1. How do you define beauty?

Having a kind heart.

1. What do you love most about your body?

I like my ears.

1. Best way to take a rest/decompress?

Good food and then falling asleep watching a good show/movie or listening to your favorite music.

1. Favorite place to view art?

Online.

1. If your life were a song, what would the title be?

Self-Sabotage (Repress Repress Repress)

1. If you could master one instrument, what would it be?

Piano

1. If you had a tattoo, where would it be?

I have, they are mostly on my arms. I have one on my thigh.

1. Dolphins or koalas?

Dolphins cause ocean. But also dolphins are assholes and bully sharks.

1. What’s your spirit animal?

Probably like a sloth?

1. Best gift you’ve ever received?

MCR tickets. Aside from that I don’t really like receiving gifts. Makes me uncomfortable.

1. Best gift you’ve ever give?

Uh idk. I gave someone a lightsaber once which was cool I guess. And a ring that was a tiny sword. I’ve only ever really given meaningful gifts to one person so.

1. What’s your favorite board game?

Pandemic.

1. What’s your favorite color?

Red

1. Least favorite color?

Blue

1. Diamonds or pearls?

Pearls

1. Drugstore makeup or designer?

I don’t wear makeup

1. Blow-dry or air-dry?

I don’t have hair lol. But when I did, blow dry.

1. Pilates or yoga?

Neither.

1. Coffee or tea?

Tea

1. What’s the weirdest word in the English language?

The first one that popped into my head was smegma and I really hate that it did.

1. Dark chocolate or milk chocolate?

Dark

1. Stairs or elevator?

Elevator

1. Summer or winter?

Winter

1. You are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat?

Eggs

1. A desert you don’t like?

Anything with nuts.

1. A skill you’re working on mastering?

Surviving

1. Best thing to happen to you today?

My cat licked my hand for like ten minutes straight.

1. Worst thing to happen to you today?

I looked in the mirror.

1. Best compliment you’ve ever received?

Someone used to say I was handsome. It felt much more, idk, suiting than people having called me beautiful in the past.

1. Favorite smell?

Citrus or patchouli

1. Hugs or kisses?

Hugs

1. If you made a documentary, what would it be about?

Modern day cannibalism. Or the dead bodies on Mount Everest. Or female-centered horror films.

1. Last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?

I’m not even done watching it cause I have to take frequent breaks but I May Destroy You.

1. Lipstick or lip gloss?

Chapstick

1. Sweet or savory?

Savory

1. Girl crush?

I mean I’m gay, so.

1. How you know you’re in love?

When the day is made by whether or not I talk to the person.

1. Song you can listen to on repeat?

See You Again by Tyler, the Creator and Kali Uchis

1. If you could switch lives with someone for a day who would it be?

A fat house cat

1. What are you most excited about at this time in your life?

I might be moving to a new city. Not confirmed. And not exactly excited so much as I am nervous. But yeah.

1. Your go to for having a good laugh?

Rewatching episodes of Unhhhh

1. Your affirmation for today?

I don’t have one.