#What we exactly are a mix of and what. Doesn’t matter we are all the same people and there’s nothing really different about us

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

man anthropology is so cool, humanity is so old.

I can’t wait until we find even older bones!

bc I so subscribe to humanity (homo sapiens) being a bit older than we think, it’s mostly because we just haven’t found the bones yet.

most fossils and bones don’t really preserve well or at all, it’s very specific circumstances that they happen and are preserved well enough for people to identify and interpret.

and like a lot of things there’s no exact date we change from one species to another it’s just gradual small change, we really aren’t all that different in the grand scheme of things.

humans and Neanderthals, and other hominid species have kinda just existed alongside each other for ages. Most of us are if not all are hybrid Neanderthal/homo sapiens.

We don’t exactly have all the knowledge needed yet to fully figure out where (it’s Africa but where exactly we don’t know, we keep finding old ass bones) or when we diverged or when we start the dates on how old we all are as humans.

and I think that’s pretty fucking cool, hundreds of thousands of years of just vibing with tools and shit. So cool!

[tonycries]

FIVE! - C.K.

Synopsis. Five hours - it’s all it takes for Choso’s baby fever to take over. After all, you’d look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader 

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, unprotected, bréeding, Choso with rings + a tongue piercing, creampíe, mentioned kids, cúmplay, he goes feraI, oraI (fem receiving), Itadori family shenanigans (mild spoilers for unc-kuna), overstím, fíngering, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Will I ever write a Choso fic without the Itadori family? No absolutely not.

4:37PM.

“Ooo, Cho can we check that place out?”

And, listen, just because Choso would give you the moon right along with his heart doesn’t exactly mean he’s jumping with joy when he follows your gaze to that gaudy little shop tucked away in a corner of the mall. Flashing a loud, glittering sign reading, “FORTUNES: FIND YOUR FUTURE!”

Traitorous memories flash through his mind with each step you drag him closer. Of all those fortune shops he’d frequented years ago, trying to figure out whether you’d say yes to a date - before even thinking of actually asking you. 

He won’t ask anything, Choso reassures, stepping through the heady, curtained doorway. Probably not anything, he’s musing, pulling out his wallet to pay for your session. Well, maybe some things, he concludes, eyeing the sprightly old woman that takes a seat opposite you two, peering down at her dramatically large glass ball on the table. 

But that doesn’t mean he’ll-

“Babies.”

“Huh?”

“Yes.” the woman gives a solemn nod. “Five of them.”

Both of you let out a squawk of surprise, much to the amusement of the fortune teller. And Choso can feel his palms getting sweaty against your own as he manages to croak out a low, disbelieving, “Five?”

All but toppling out of his seat in suspense as she takes a moment to scrutinize her orb once more. And, surely glass balls can glitch, right? Mix up fortunes or something? Because while he knows you’ll be by his side in this life and every other one after - kids were a whole other responsibility that neither of you had talked about, yet.

At least, that’s what Choso was trying to convince himself right before the woman lets out a thoughtful hum, “Well, you-” pointing a wisened, accusing finger right in his flushed face. “-want more - about eight - but, of course, your future wife says no.” Gesturing to your giggling figure, “Honestly, young man, learn to keep it in your pants, the poor dear!”

Shit, he was going to run away, do something to end up on the national news - and judging by the way you squeeze his hand, you could tell, too. 

Subconsciously, Choso’s eyes scan the wall for any hidden cameras, wondering what type of strange prank this was. It had happened once four years ago - and just-so-happened to be what made him give up and finally ask you out - but, hey, it made for a pretty great first date story, right?

Finding none, he sighs, barely opening his mouth to ask before she plows on, “And of course there’s only so many your uncle can piggyback at once, right? No matter how much that grump says he doesn’t like it.”

Right.

Of course.

Oh god, he thinks he could faint. 

Choso doesn’t dare say anything for the rest of the session, nor does he look directly in your eyes. Save for that one time to admire your delighted laugh when the fortune teller prattles on about how your kids will “fight his needy self for your attention.”

Not until the two of you are stepping back out into the too-bright mall, your fingers intertwined with his, voice sweet in his ear as you continue with your forgotten mission to find the good brownie mix for the family dinner tonight. 

“Eyes like yours and hair like mine.” You sigh, repeating what you’d heard mere minutes ago. Hooking a finger subtly into his belt loop, smirking, “Sooo, five, huh? You’re this worked up over that?”

“N-no.” Choso replies hastily, but the heavy gulp he takes is a dead giveaway he can’t stop thinking about tiny combinations of the two of you running around. Face too-hot, hands jittery, brows furrowed as he decides for the second time in his life that, yeah he’s never stepping foot inside a fortune shop again. 

You notice - of course, you do. 

Especially when he pulls you into the nearest changing stall, knuckle-deep inside your drenched panties, rings cool against your cunt, lips kissing at your throat. Ignoring your teasing complaints about “getting late”, despite how you’re letting him have his way. 

He feels the vibration of your voice under his hot tongue, laughing - even when he gives your pretty clit a little pinch. “Five.”

And through it all, he can’t help but think - hypothetically, of course, that he hopes they all have your laugh.

---

7:16PM.

Honestly, the one thing that made the Itadori residence more of a home to Choso was having you there. Even when you’re standing with him outside the front door, letting out a sigh as you glare at your sad excuse for brownies.

“Ugh, Cho, we totally burnt them.” you grumble up at your boyfriend. “Your dad is gonna hate it and Sukuna’s gonna make fun of me and-”

“Sukuna can try.” Choso hits the doorbell once more, sure that the ruckus inside was too loud to even think over. “And he probably will.” Before turning back to your adorable pout, and ah he can’t stop himself from cupping your face, smoothing over that furrow in your brow. He leans in to give your lips a chaste peck, “But, he’s still gonna steal some. N’ dad’ll love it, and you already know gramps is gonna sneak in some even though his doctor told him not to.” He’s getting out through kisses, pulling your giggling face closer to his. “And we’ll be lucky to get any before Itadori inhales them.”

He ends his little speech with a slow, lingering kiss. Sliding his soft lips across your now much happier ones. Dancing a hand down to pull your hips closer, murmuring throatily, “N’ most of all, I’m gonna love ‘em, baby.”

You gasp at the feeling of his long fingers pressing just at the hem of your panties through your dress, “You’re- you’re too much.” You hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. “But, the brownies really are-”

Slam!

“Yeah yeah, Jin, the brats are finally here, jus’ fucking on the porch!” 

If there’s anything Choso’s learned from all the times you’ve had dinner with his family, it’s that 1. Yes, the brownies - as burnt and questionable as they were - will always turn out to be a hit in the Itadori household. 2. You were really, really too perfect for your own good, even amidst the chaos. 

“Oh no, let me.” you flash Jin a beaming smile, taking over the well cleared-out plates to the kitchen. Only to be followed by an enthusiastic Yuji almost tripping over his own feet to help you out. 

“You got a good one there.” Choso snaps out of his soft stare to whirl around at where his grandpa was seated next to him. He tips his head over to where you were chattering animatedly with the younger boy taking your load of dishes. “Real lovely. Though, the desert I’m assuming you helped out with.”

Jin pipes up, “Bah! I thought that liquorice was great.”

“They were…brownies.” Face burning, he stammers, knowing full well that you were the one that forgot them in the oven. “And uh y-yeah, you got me…”

And, of course, because it’s a family dinner, Sukuna has to lean over to rile him up. Interjecting teasingly, “Then you best wife that cute lil’ thing up before those baking skills of yours make ‘em run off n’ find someone that can bake.” He smirks devilishly, eyes flitting to the view of the kitchen, “And…”

“And?”

“-is fuckin’ great with kids, too.”

Several things happen at once - the words are barely out of Sukuna’s mouth before he’s being swatted over the head. Hard. After all, being the nicer of the two doesn’t make Jin Itadori forget his roots as the older brother.

And Choso’s jaw is dropping into a soft oh! Not at the unusual display of strength, no, instead it was at the heavenly scene before him.

He swears, the lights grow just a bit brighter and the world becomes a little rosier at the sight of you teaching an eager Yuji the correct way to scrub strainers. Gently guiding the boy until that confused furrow between his brow disappears. “Yeah, just a bit more on the side and you’re done!”

He gives you a very soapy high-five, “You’re literally a lifesaver, Kugisaki was just making fun of me for this the other day.” Moving onto the rest of the workload, “‘Can’t do shit’ gonna show her, seriously. Thank you mom- uh-”

Yuji freezes. You freeze. And it seems that everyone in the world might’ve frozen, except for Sukuna who was still rubbing that bump on his head. 

And you, of course, promptly cutting off the flurry of apologies that looked like they were about to burst from Itadori’s lips. Smiling at the flustered boy softly, “Well…good job, Yuji.” you bump his hip. “And now onto the blender.”

“AW, MAN.”

Suddenly, everything was normal again. Except for Choso - definitely not Choso. 

Mom? 

So utterly, completely not Choso when everyone’s still talking downstairs, and he’s not. Making some cheap excuse about a ‘bathroom break’, which really didn’t explain why he covertly drags you behind him by the hand. All but shoving you into his childhood bedroom, shutting the door as quietly as he could without alerting anyone of your tryst. 

“Ch-Cho-” you squeal when he pushes you against the wall, dropping down to his knees with a fervor that makes you wince. But if it hurt, then Choso doesn’t show it - doesn’t show anything but pure need when he bunches your dress up at your waist. Soft tongue darting out to glide along your drenched slit, “What’s gotten- hngh- into you?”

The only response you get is a murmured growl of something you can’t bother deciphering. And he doesn’t give you any other, either - sluggishly nudging away your panties to admire your glistening cunt. 

So close. Just hovering over your puffy folds, smiling at the way they only get wetter at his hot breath, “Five.”

Too close. Glossy pink lips falling slack to wrap around your clit and-

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Though, it was more of a bang. And an even louder voice from outside, “OI, you brats better be decent, gramps found some dusty old albums n’ wants you two down.”

---

9:02PM.

“Awww, this is from his first fight with Yuji- yes, Choso so what if I took a picture?” Jin excitedly points to a photo on the page, “Yuji was the one with a bruise, but Choso was the one bawling.”

You titter at the glossy picture, a confused-looking Yuji as a toddler, being smothered by his older brother in a hug - big, fat tears running down his pouty cheeks. Adorable. And somehow that encounter with the fortune teller today rings in your mind - wonder if your kids would have those same eyes?

“As cute as ever, huh?” your gaze dances across all the gems of childhood on the page. 

“Disagreed.” Sukuna leans over, no matter how much he’d like to pretend he wasn’t interested in these albums. “Look how attached the lil’ anklebiter used to be.” A painted nail pokes at one of Choso on his uncle’s shoulders, tiny fists happily gripping onto pink hair - much to his disgruntlement. “And then I look over at him now and-” He glances over at the man in question, very much unamused. “Well. That’s disappointing.”

Choso rolls his eyes, “What’s disappointing is how you’re this old but still can’t find a-” 

“Ooo look this is from when he’d run away during bath time!”

That album is snatched so fast out of Jin’s hands that you wonder whether it might just be your imagination. But you look over at a red-faced Choso, seeing him hold it way above your heads. Muttering out a hasty, “I think that’s enough photo time.”

Amidst the collective groans of disappointment - even Sukuna lets out a low huff, you hadn’t gotten to those ugly matching Halloween costume pictures yet - only Yuji speaks up, “Do you think I’d be like that, too?”

Sukuna scoffs, “What? An emo bastard? Might just work out for ya, kid, the dumbass look isn’t doing you any favors.”

Yuji juts his chin in indignance, “No- we already have Fushiguro for that.” Tilting his head over to the album still tight in Choso’s clutches. “Do you think your kids would like me? Would I be that cool favorite family member?”

“No way, brat. It’ll be me.”

Choso’s grandpa also chimes in as well, “Huh? No, I’d be the favorite.”

“Gramps-”

“Says who?”

“DISRESPECT TO YOUR ELDERS!”

“Hey!” Everything turns to Choso, startled at his sudden outburst. Tension crackling as he pokes a thumb at his chest, “I’d be their favorite. For all five of them.”

And you knew a fist or two to be thrown, hell, you half-expected the album to be used as some type of weapon. Because before you knew it, Sukuna was on Yuji, and both Yuji and Choso were on Sukuna. Falling to the floor in a tangled pile while his grandpa sat on the sidelines, chanting an elated, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Ah, it’s times like this that you wonder how Jin Itadori really had the patience. Because with all the grace that was lacking in the current scuffle on the living room floor, he claps his hands loudly. “Alright. Perhaps Choso’s right, that’s enough photo time for tonight.” He plucks the album out of a dazed Choso still gripping onto it, before moving to walk out. “And for the record-” Flashing you all a devious smile which suddenly had you remember that shit, him and Sukuna were twins, after all. “-I’d be the favorite.”

The arguments that followed were ones you had to record on your phone to giggle at later. And, yet, through it all, the only thing you could truly focus on were Choso’s words - all five of them.

Fuck. You were truly, irrevocably so fucked, and one sideglance at the pretty pink blush burning at the tips of Choso’s ears told you he wasn’t faring any better. 

You jolt when his hand wraps around your waist - nothing out of the ordinary - but what was was the way he strayed past their usual perch at your hip, trailing slightly above to just caress your stomach. Something so electric in those eyes when they catch yours briefly. 

All five of them, huh?

---

9:37PM. 

SLAM!

“Cho, why’d you-”

“Shut up.”

You don’t know what’s hitting you first - his lips crashing against yours, or the realization that this was Choso. Dark eyes half-lidded, skin burning, breaths heaving with the fervor he was drinking you in with. 

“What-” you yelp when he pulls away lazily to suck on your lower lip. “What got-” Only to come clashing back down again, drawing out all the air in your lungs as he blindly shoves the two of you against the nearest wall. “What got into you this- mmpf-” And again it’s like Choso didn’t want you to talk - could bare another word in your sweet voice for fear of poking some deep, visceral part of himself awake. 

This time, not even daring to break the kiss, he pants into your open mouth, “Shut up.” So bruisingly sloppy, “Please.”

And oh he was so very determined to have it that way, because all you can do is let out breathless gasps when his hands dance down your body. Handling you so rough with the way he snaps the neckline of your cute lil’ dress, kneading your breasts, your hips. Everywhere and anywhere he could reach until he makes his way down to cup your already-damp cunt through your panties. “-because tonight m’gonna have her talking.”

Choso pushes his hips against yours with a strained grunt. Lips curling into a sinful leer when all you can do is gasp at the outline of his thick erection through his pants. Grinding down onto his palm subconsciously, dragging your sloppy pussy. 

“Shit.” Choso immediately brings his hand up to admire - now all glistening with a sheen of your syrupy slick. Looking you right in your glassy eyes as he pops a wet finger into his mouth. His own rolling to the back of his head, “Oh shit.”

Oh, he was going to enjoy this. So very, very much.

“Turns out…” he trails off, cutting himself off by dropping to his knees. Hard. Large hands groping your ass closer to his greedy mouth, “-she says we got some unfinished business.”

You whine when Choso hooks an index underneath the mound of your drenched panties sliding it along your puffy folds. All the way up until he was nudging at your pretty clit, then down, down, down until you were just coating his fingers. 

“Ngh- Cho-” your knees weaken, when his hot breath hits your pussy. And he notices - of course he does. Circling his muscled arms around your legs to hold you up, “Oh my god s’too much.”

Too much? He’s barely even getting started. And he tells you that - slurs it between his sharp canines biting down on the thin fabric of your panties. He tugs with his teeth, “M’gonna- fuck you smell so heavenly- m’gonna ruin you.” 

You whimper in disbelief. Knowing he was too entranced with your cunt to tease you again, you mewl, “Wh-what’s got you this- fuck- worked up, Cho?”

The only response you get is a throaty growl - like the mere idea of the answer to that has Choso losing his sanity. 

And, honestly he feels like he’s lost it already. Instead, taking his time to watch the way your slick beads through the see-through fabric with each passing second. Breaths coming out in little puffs as he pulls your panties back every-so-slightly and-

“Fuck!”

And then he’s pulling - ripping your poor panties to shreds. Cock twitching wildly at the strings of slick connecting your pussy to the fabric. Mouthwatering. 

Your panties lay in tatters on the floor. The cold air hitting you right along with his steady stream of saliva. Once. Twice. Smearing it across your folds with his thumbs as Choso repeats a single, jagged whisper, “Five.”

But you barely even have the time to register his response before he’s diving nose-deep into your dripping cunt. You don’t even know if he took the time to breathe - hell, he was kissing your puffy folds like he didn’t need to breathe. 

“Shouldn’t have taken me to ngh- that fortune shop.” his lips mesh sloppily with yours. “Shouldn’t have gone to dinner, too.” Licking down your folds, the cold metal of his piercing making your head spin. “Fuckkk we shouldn’t have. Ohhh we shouldn’t have- ”

He can’t help but let out a guttural, fucked-out little grunt at the sight. Looking right up into your glassy eyes as the tip of his nose bumps against your throbbing clit. On purpose. 

You buck your hips deeper into his pretty face, mewling. “O-oh. Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” Letting him lick so filthily all over your clit - your folds - just barely dipping into your hole like he couldn’t decide. And it finally sets in that just maybe you weren’t getting off easy this time. “Five?”

And fuck you can feel the way Choso grins against your pussy, wrapping his now-glossy lips around your clit to suck so harshly.

“Mhmmm.” he moans, cheeks hollowing as he tugs on your poor, ravaged clit. Rolling his tongue - the ball of his piercing - right across the sensitive bud in just the way he knew you liked. “Shouldn’t have put those thoughts in my head, baby.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. Five. 

You definitely weren’t making it out alive today.

The same sentiment seems to ring in Choso’s pussydrunk head as he pulls away with a lewd squelch to grin up at you. So fucking pretty with his eyes miles away, hair messily framing his smudged eyeliner. Lips all puffy and glistening, your slick covering the lower half of his face, his chin - some even on his jaw like Choso was trying to get messy on purpose. “Ya finally got it, baby? I could feel her gettin’ wetter.”

You did. How could you not?

You jump when Choso reattaches his lips, this time bullying his tongue past your folds, into that first, feeble ring of resistance. Stretching out your sopping entrance on his tongue in persistent, rough pushes. “Seems she hngh- really likes the idea, hm? Of me breeding this lil’ cunt?” he moans, muffled with the way he was thrusting his tongue deeper and deeper with each second. Roaming for those cute sensitive spots he knew so well, “N’ who am I to say no to the fuck- mother of my kids?”

“There! Oh my god there-” you cry when his piercing just hits at your g-spot. “I-I thought you ngh- didn’t want kids, Cho–”

As if to prove you wrong, Choso’s only curling his tongue deeper into your walls. Squeezing past your walls to fuck you exactly the way he wanted to with his aching cock right now. Hitting that magic spot again and again and-

“Oh yeah? Seems-” Like he was fucking addicted, Choso surges forward again. And again. And again and again so deep that you could feel the curve of his chin, each and every movement of his jaw. “Seems the last five hours were a bit- eye-opening. Fuck- you’re squeezin’ me s’fucking- mmf- tight”

And it was true - your walls were milking Choso’s tongue so hard you half-lucidly wondered whether it didn’t hurt. Whether his tongue wasn’t cramping up at this point, lips aching. 

But if they did, then Choso acted the exact opposite. Nails leaving neat little patterns on the plush of your hips as he makes you ride his face harder. 

“Cho!” you buck your hips wildly when that wasn’t enough for your needy boyfriend either. Big, fat tears of overstimulation rising up to your eyes when he swipes his thumb across your pulsing clit. Rings cold against your cunt when he starts to draw urgent, messy little circles in time with his tongue.“Oh fuck-” 

“Five.” he’s spitting into your cunt when your thighs start trembling beside his head. Jaw sagging open so lewdly as he gets faster - sloppier. Fuck any rhythm or reason. “Five.” he moans, sounding as strained as you felt - as taut as a tightrope right now with each drag of your sloppy cunt over Choso’s ravenous mouth. Greedier - letting your slick run all the way down his wrist now with how messy he was getting. “Five.” he whispers, when you finally cum. 

And shit, you’re such a vision when you do. Tears springing to your eyes, fingers tightening on Choso’s hair. Letting out such cute sobs of his name, hips moving out of control all over his mouth while he still pulls and pushes his tongue into your gummy walls. Fucking you so obscenely through your high. 

“Yeah? You all done with the first one, baby?” he rasps, giving your sensitive cunt one, last peck at your delirious nod - and another extra, just to watch you squirm. “Then-” Choso does the same up your body, pressing his lips to your stomach, “-you can-” the valley of your breasts. “-take responsibility.”

That’s all it takes for Choso to easily throw you onto his sculpted shoulders like some ragdoll. Taking long, urgent steps towards the nearest flat surface - that just so happened to be your couch. 

“Cho- slow-” you squeal when he throws you onto the cushions. “-down.”

And he does anything but. Barely paying attention to your zipper when he pulls off whatever’s left of your dress, throwing it god-knows-where behind him. “I’ll buy you a new one when we go pregnancy shopping.”

Choso lets out a long, strained groan when he unbuckles your bra. “Gonna be so pretty as a mama.” Large, soft hands coming to knead and guide your pretty nipples into his mouth, “Gonna be- fuck- so pretty with these all full.” 

And you can only watch, jaw-dropped, as Choso sucks on your tits. Eyes rolling to the back of his head with how harsh he was - as if he was trying to get out milk. Needing to feel it - to taste it on his tongue. 

“And this- oh this-” A hand sneaks its way down to splay out over your stomach. Pressing down, hard. “So round and full with my kid.” He manages to grit out over the metal clinking of his belt, “They’ll look at you and all they’ll see is me.” He pauses, feeling something crinkle in his pocket - a shiny condom. One that Choso chucks along with your dress, “Fuck, they’ll see me. Know how I ruined you. Me me me me-”

Fuck- 

You’re so caught up in Choso’s sinful little mutters that you barely even noticed he’d pull down his pants - just enough for his rock-hard erection to spring free. And he looked so painfully hard, such an angry red at his weeping tip, leaking all the way down, down, down those prominent veins. 

Twitching upwards at the mere sound of your voice, “Why don’t you p-prove it then, Cho?”

You broke him. You were sure you broke him. 

The words have barely left your lips before Choso’s fist is squeezing at the drenched base of his cock. Angry. Desperate. 

All but cumming on the spot when he glides his fat head along your slit - letting your cunt drool all over him before-

“F-fuck-”

“Shhh baby, I know I know.” his mouth crashes against yours in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Sucking on your tongue while he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. Inch by fucking inch. And whatever’s remaining of Choso’s sanity knows he should slow down, let you breathe, maybe stretch you out more - but how could he when he physically can’t. “Fuck- too- too good. God, I have t-to do this more often.”

Your raw cunt too heavenly that he genuinely can’t stop his hips from splitting you apart deeper, from spreading your thrashing legs so far apart it burned.

From feeling the way you’re torn between taking more and flattening your feet to push away- Letting out a strangled groan, “No no no no no- don’t you take this pussy away. How else will I breed her?” He runs his delirious mouth, strong arms just dragging you across the couch back onto his mean cock. “Need this- need this so bad. Fuck-” Choso throws his head back as your cunt sucks up his leaky tip. “-oh god think m’gonna die if I don’t get to breed this pretty pussy. To give her my kid.”

Pushing in small, sharp jabs to bully himself inside, having your puffy folds bulge so obscenely around his cock. Quivering and struggling to take him all. Not even a quarter of the way in yet he was pushing in and out in and out in and-

“Oh- please-” you claw down his toned back, his waist, onto the biceps that were pushing your knees up for easier access, all the way until they were at your tits. Folding you into a tight mating press, “Cho–”

Ah, that little nickname always did things to him. And Choso nuzzles the crook of your neck gently - the exact opposite of his hips, leaving faint, dark streaks of eyeliner on your skin. “What is it? What do you hngh- want, baby? I’ll give ya anything.”

And maybe you were a mastermind. Maybe you were an idiot. Because you hum into his ear, sending goosebumps rising down your boyfriend’s spine, “Wan’ five of them.”

If you thought you broke him before then you fucking ruined him now.

Because in one, harsh thrust he’s bottoming out - feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs, your hazy brain. And the stretch - fuck. You could feel each and every dip and curve of Choso’s girth, thrumming against your plushy walls. Still pushing inside you despite bottoming out, stretching you out like such a slut. 

It was all Choso could do to echo, over and over like some type of mantra. “Finally- Five, huh? Five- Fuck!” Leaving little bruises on your thighs from spreading them apart so hard. “Gonna give you five- fuck- five.”

Each word was punctuated by a long, mean thrust, not daring to reel back until Choso could feel his fat head kiss your poor cervix, and his heavy balls smack against your ass. 

It was starting to take a toll on your ability to speak in coherent sentences - as expected, of course. 

“Oh- ngh- Cho, s’too deep. Too- ah-” you blubber tearily, heels digging into his shoulders. And he only fucks you harder into the couch. Bouncing you so rough on his swollen cock. 

“Too deep?” Choso mutters, sounding genuinely surprised. As if to confirm for himself, he trails up a hand to feel for where he knew he was leaving loving little marks on your cervix. Pressing down. “How are ya- hah- how are ya gonna let me breed this cute cunt if even this is too deep, huh?”

You don’t have the ability to answer even if you wanted to - because Choso starts to toy with your still-sensitive clit. Sending flashes of white-hot pleasure with each roll of his ringed thumb over it. Tiny, incessant circles.

He coos over your lewd ah! ah! ah! “Awww. My baby can’t s-speak anymore?”. The curve of his dick fucking you so dumb, massaging your tight walls, hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. “S’alright, jus’ let me hah- take care of it, okay? Jus’ let me paint this oh- heavenly pussy white.” Choso’s knees dig into the cushion as he angles his hips ever-so-slightly to hit that one-

“Fuck! Oh fuck- Cho–”

Found it.

“C’mon, baby.” Choso moans into the valley of your breasts, hips out of control now. Free hand coming up to squish your cheeks together, forcing you to peer into his dark gaze. “L-look at me. Fuck- look at the future father to your kids.”

All while his thick tip hit your g-spot over and over and- 

And oh how he loved how fucked-out you looked already. Capable of only giving him bleary, cockdrunk heart-eyes as he milks himself on your sloppy cunt. He couldn’t think straight - doesn’t think he’s been able to since five hours ago. 

Since he’s been wrecked with thoughts of how he’d do their hair and you’d pick them up from school. And how Yuji would be the best uncle and- Fuck, how he wanted those five kids with you - maybe even more- 

“More?” you gasp. And Choso lets out a guttural groan when you clench so sinfully around him in surprise. Fucking you so filthy, “M-more kids?”

Choso only drawls out a low, “Mhmmmm.” Pinching your clit faster between two fingers to shut up those cute whines because shit- he could cum from just how tight you were squeezing him. But refuses to before the mother of his kids. “Ya don’ ngh- wan’ me to? Don’ want me to fuck a baby into you?” 

You’re crying out harder when he speeds up. Rocking your sloppy cunt so harshly, making sure your poor pussy will remember him for a long, long time. Just trying - needing - to make himself cum. To fill you up with his seed till you can’t take it anymore. “I- ngh- do!”

And it takes everything in Choso to pull away from your ravaged tits, connecting his sweaty forehead with yours. Whispering, “How many?”

“As- fuck-”

“Mhm?”

“As many as you want- hngh-”

That’s all it takes for Choso’s body to bow, teeth digging in right above that rapid pulse on your neck so hard you wondered whether it drew blood. Hips stuttering, giving your sensitive spot one last, harsh kiss.

This time, when you cum you see white flashes behind your eyes - or maybe that was just Choso. Because the sight of you falling apart on his dick was all it takes for him to as well. Hard. Almost painfully so. 

Eyeliner running down his cheeks now with each thick, hot rope of seed he was filling your snug cunt up with. Those cushions below the two of you the last thing on his mind right now as he holds your trembling hips still, fucking his cum deeper and deeper.

The hand on your stomach pushes down, watching awe-struck at how your bloated cunt just coats him in cum. Dribbling down the side of your puffy folds, forming a creamy ring at his base.

“Oh!“ your jaw falls slack at how animalistic it felt. At how slutty your overfilled pussy felt, drooling all down your legs - and his. Onto Choso’s painfully squeezing balls as he fucks you like an animal. Again. And again and-

Again. He was speeding his hips up again. 

Then it’s like something snaps - Choso’s restraint, your sanity, and the couch. Fuck, his hips were so harsh that the couch was sagging entirely too much on your end.

This time, wrangling your legs around Choso’s waist, lifting your limp body up into Choso’s arms before you can react - squirming at the way he still doesn’t bother to pull out. Letting your cum gush all the way down his still-hard dick. 

Hands spreading your puffy folds apart, making such a mess of cum down below as he drags himself across your walls. Like he was marking you from the inside out - and he was.

“Didn’t think we were ngh- done, did you?” Choso’s lips graze your swollen ones. “After all, I did promise five.” Softly pooling a stray tear onto his tongue, piercing burning into your heated skin. “N’ we gotta practice for that, too, right?”

---

“The photo albums, really? Honestly, dad, you might as well have just gone and just outright told them.”

The older man only waves a hand dismissively, turning back to his favorite late-night show, “I’m not getting any younger here. N’ I’d like to see some grandkids before I see the pearly gates.”

Jin only sighs, but doesn’t disagree - after all, he couldn’t deny his father what he himself has been dreaming about ever since Choso finally plucked up the courage to actually ask you out. Yet he persists, “But honestly, Sukuna - you were teasing him a bit too much.”

Sukuna grunts, “Teasing? What teasing?” Crossing two big arms across his chest, “From the way they ran outta here, I suspect he should be thanking me.”

“Well, the true MVP - as the kids say - is this one-” Grandpa Itadori points at a rather oblivious Yuji. ‘Real nice improv to the plan, kid.“

Who only shakes his head before looking around the room for any answers, “Huh, wait. What plan? Did I miss some plan?”

“Ahem- no. Nothing.” Jin coughs, swiftly moving along the conversation above Yuji’s confused protests about what secret plan there was and why. “But, really, it should be that fortune teller you hired, Sukuna. Bit over-the-top honestly, but Choso was telling me all about her and you must’ve gotten a real convincing actress.”

Rolling his eyes, “Huh, I didn’t hire her, I thought that was the ol’ man’s work?”

“Now why would I go looking for actresses, my wife would just haunt me from the grave.”

The silence that follows is a heavy one as it slowly dawns upon everyone in the room - except for a still-floundering Yuji - that this was in no way a creative improvisation to the aforementioned plan. Not at all, really.

Oh. 

Wow. Five…really?!

“GUYS WHAT WAS THE PLAN?”

A/N. This got wayyyyyy longer than I expected lmao.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[nereidprinc3ss]

drunk in love

in which fem!reader gets extra affectionate with spencer when she's drunk and he's just happy to be there

fluff! warnings/tags: drunk!reader, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff, spencer loves you so bad, short n sweet, that's it a/n: this is for the person who requested spencer taking care of drunk!reader and they're just being really cute and kissy and i lost your request i'm sorry but i hope you see this!! if you guys like this pls let me know, i have spencer helping drunk!r with a bath locked and loaded and its also so cute oh my god i love him goodnight

“Spence,” you say, voice pretty and airy as a song, pressing butterfly-light kisses with soft lips all over the side of his face. 

“What?” he asks fondly, fighting to keep his grip on you secure as you keep trying to fall down and bring him with you. This bar isn’t necessarily a dive, but he’s sure the floor is still sticky and he’s not interested in checking. 

“I really love you so much. I love you so much more than anyone else has ever loved anyone before.” It’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve told him you love him so much in ten minutes, but it doesn’t feel any less wonderful to hear. “Say it back!” you pout, settling against his chest. 

“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”

Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact. 

“Call me that again.”

Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider. 

“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”

“Because you love me?”

“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly. 

You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonders what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.

“Kiss?”

He gently grabs your wrists. 

“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”

Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk. 

“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.

“Can we kiss forever?”

“We can try,” he muses. 

“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”

“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”

He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns. 

“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”

You pout. 

“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”

Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in. 

“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”

“Just me?” you ask anxiously. 

“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”

He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all. 

You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash. 

“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”

Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle. 

“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”

“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”

He chuckles. 

“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”

You make a face. 

“I’m always nice.”

“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown. 

“In my head I am.”

He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to. 

“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”

“You think I’m not usually nice?”

“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”

“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd. 

He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go. 

“We can definitely get ice cream. We can do whatever you want.”

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [8]

The observants have been pestering Danny for a while now. Something about a ‘kingly’ duty. 

Apparently there is this collective of ghosts who wish to conquer the infinite realms and have been sporadically trying to do so for the past… give or take six hundred years or so? maybe longer. 

After asking around it’s clear to Danny that they get more zealous with each year that passes.

so, ghost cult, world domination, realm domination? doesn’t matter, but usually dead cult folks settle down after their deaths, in this case however from what Danny understands these people are continuing what they started in life. And this is one hell of an ancient cult that’s somehow still relevant considering that ‘new’ members still show up and join their ranks.

But Danny is King now (much to his dismay) so it would probably be best if he just put an end to this matter once and for all.

Danny went in prepared and with backup that he told to wait for his signal should things go sideways. and then went in.

he expected a big fight, a huge mess, he would probably need help at some point cause unlike with most of his rogues this was a big group who were probably a lot more organized.

he did not expect the haunt of the cult to look like a mix between middle eastern and asian, a bad feeling was starting to creep up Danny’s spine.

The bad feeling got worse when Danny got close enough and was promptly surrounded by a group of ninja’s who had their weapons out. He felt himself promptly fall into a defensive stance that he thought he had long forgotten. Danny isn’t exactly sure what to do now though.

the stalemate is broken when one ninja speaks up in arabic “the heir has finally come to take his rightful position” and all of a sudden the tension is broken and Danny is left dumbfounded and with anxiety creeping up his spine as the ninja’s fall into kneeling positions.

“young master Danyal al Ghul, we are most honored by your arrival and here to serve you in death as we have in life”

Ah

Well shit

[how2loa]

HOW2LOA : ignore the 3D !

you have heard coaches tell you to ignore the 3D time and time again but you just can’t seem to be able to ignore the fact that the money isn’t in your bank account yet or that your physical appearance isn’t changing? we’ve all been there. let me help you!

be confident about your decision! say your affirmations with conviction. convince yourself that your visualization is real. if you affirm for ten minutes and then ask why is it not here yet i still see my circumstances well guess what? you’re just reaffirming that your circumstances exist.

literally pretend they’re not there. but if you choose to acknowledge them, think about it this way. why would they even bother you when you know you’re getting everything you want? the whole situation will turn out in your favor anyway so why would you bother worrying about 3D circumstances when you know how the ending will be. its like knowing a secret everyone else doesn’t know.

you don’t have to make yourself feel crazy or feel delusional like you’re lying to yourself, but if you know that you staying consistent with thinking as if and ignoring your circumstances will make them disappear then why wouldn’t you just do that? be patient and stay discipled, if you don’t have it you’re not done. keep thinking as if.

i know that sometimes we are faced with circumstances that we cannot ignore like having to pay a bill. i think what we often get mixed up when we hear the phrase “ignore the 3D” is that we think we have to ignore all circumstances and responsibilities in real life. NO! what you are affirming in your head, does not have to match what you are physically doing in real life. if you want to manifest being a millionaire, going out and shopping like one when you’re earning minimum wage and have bills to pay will get you in debt! do whatever you need to do in the 3D and while doing it, just affirm against it in your head. why would you quit your job to live as if you’re a millionaire when you’re still depending on that job for income in your 3D? that will just stress you out even more because you’re now depending on your manifestation to survive.

not to say you cannot manifest while depending on the manifestation, but there’s no need to put yourself in that position willingly. thinking as if and your actions in the 3D don’t have to match. it doesn’t matter what you’re doing in the 3D anyways since it’ll change in just a second right? so don’t mind what is happening out there and live in the 4D.

circumstances can disappear in a second, just like they appeared. and don’t even worry about the how. there’s infinite ways things can work out the way you want them to, you cannot even fathom all the possibilities. your job is to persist in your desired state, and the 3D must prove you right. it has no choice. unless you waver. so stay consistent and be stubborn until you get exactly what you want.

[smokeysweater]

Masterlist It had been a good arrangement so far. You and John I mean, it had been pretty comfortable since you originally applied for the ad, it still baffled you that nobody else wanted this, 250 pounds every two weeks, to live in a nice house in the gorgeous countryside, with a roommate who is barely here. Even when John is here, he’s civil and nice. Doesn’t talk to you unless needed, using the sweetest of nicknames when he does as well. ” hey sweetheart, I’m about to run to the grocery store, ya need anything?” ”let me just squeeze right past you, doll” ” Thanks for the dinner love, it's delicious as always.” His voice, that deep, smooth British tone mixed with the most knee-dropping nicknames, it’s a wonder how you’ve survived this long with him invading your mind every time you go to bed. so it was a good thing you two had going on, he left for months on end, leaving you with the house you barely paid rent for, you’ve seen the bill, you know it’s not 250 pounds, that barely scraps it. You’ve tried confronting him about it, but he just hit you right back with a “Don’t worry about it sweetheart, just let me handle it.” …yeah you didn’t fight back against that one. honestly, before you realise it, three years have passed, 3 nice years of having a giant, beautiful house in the countryside all by yourself with a sometimes roommate and only paying dirt for rent, and you might be the luckiest person you know. it had occurred to you one day however, since it had been three years since you’ve started living with John, or as you’ve heard some people call him, Captain Price, that you two were common law.So, you thought it was at least a little funny, so you brought it up one day. You had been waiting for a week when he was home, it had been a bit since he got back, you decided now would be the moment to tell him, with you two sitting at the dining table eating a dinner John had prepared for you two The utensil’s that clattered and Clinked against the plates filled the mostly silent room, there was no tension against you two, just happy to let the quiet fill the air, so you took this as an oppuritinty to tell the older man.  “Hey John,” you spoke, prompting him to look up, baby blue eyes peering up at you, threatening to still your very being. “You know, since it’s been three years since we’ve lived together, we’re technically in a common law marriage now, funny right? I mean you're barely here but the kingdom decides we’re ‘married’” You chuckled, putting air quotations at the married part, you didn’t look Price in the eyes when you said this, focusing on the plate in front of you. so you were unable to see the way his eyes darkened, how his knuckles seemed to whiten with how tightly he gripped his knife and fork. His breathing silently froze for a moment, but the moment you looked back up again, he went back to normal, as if to hide what motions exactly ran through him like a fright train. ” that so?.. spouse we should do something to celebrate, huh doll?” Price asked, in the hushed velvety tone he always carried when talking to you. you shrugged, uncaring. “I mean, we don’t have to, I don’t think it matters, we’re not married.” You reminded Price casually, too preoccupied to see the way Price twitched at that.

”I suppose not.” He mumbled back.

That small moment set off a chain of events that would change your relationship for the better or worse.

the next morning, you felt stranger than usual, it felt.. weird, and wrong. But, naive ol’ you, shrugged it off, getting up for the day, but when you looked down at you beside the table to grab your phone, you noticed something. curiously, you picked up a ring, a pretty little thing, the red gem glinting bright in the Sun, the silver band attached to it feeling smooth and cool against your skin. next to it, was a small note. ’Hey sweetheart. Had to leave early, I’ll be back, I promise, I got you something for Our marriage, Hope you like it. Be back soon To Mx Price. Love, John Price’ what the fuck.

[k-hotchoisan]

7 minutes in heaven (Mingix fem! Reader)

Synopsis: a game of spin the bottle lands on you and Song Mingi for a dare of 7 minutes in heaven.

Right. We all know what’s coming.

Genre/warnings: sexual tension, sex, obviously, unprotected sex, orgasms, hickeys, cream pies, dirty talk, pet names (princess)

Word count: 2.3K

A/n: I just found out like what 7 minutes in heaven meant from my friends and I was instantly like “it’s basically sex???” Bro she was just tired of me at this point.

Also this is pretty fucking filthy. I would love Song fucking Mingi to ruin me like that too. ❤️

Spin the bottle, spin the fucking bottle.

“Oh come on. Just fucking come!” San whines. “You have me there! And Song Mingi is coming!”

“Song Mingi? Why the hell is he going?” You whip your head at San.

“‘Cause he’s Yunho’s friend?” San answers matter-of-factly, scrunching his eyebrows at you. “And he’s your crush?”

“Oh my god, San. Fuck off”, you wave him off in annoyance. As much as he was right, you hated that he was right. You and Mingi’s friendship started through mutual friends, and for some reason, it seemed that you fell for him during the course of the friendship. And you hated that, because the basis of the friendship was just extreme playfulness and constantly getting on each other’s nerves.

On that one time when Yunho teased Mingi about the both of you being a couple, Mingi smacked Yunho, outright denying any ounce of feelings between the both of you.

So now, it was two things—seething hatred and an ugly crush—the biggest paradox of feelings you’ve ever had. You spent the past few weeks lessening your meet ups with Mingi, and he didn’t question why.

And now suddenly a party that he’s gonna be at? No fucking way. San doesn’t relent though, for some reason he was hell-bent on getting you to come, and he wouldn’t tell you exactly why.

“What would it take for you to come?” San questions as he leans into your shoulder, giving you the puppy eyes that could never out-do Yunho’s.

“Five hundred bucks,” you answer, pinching his nose as he winces in pain, slapping your hand away.

“Yeah right”, San rolls his eyes. “I’ll introduce you to someone, okay?”

That isn’t the main point but you sense San’s sincerity, so you decide to humour him.

Little did you know that it would snowball to whatever had happened.

Your arm is hooked around San as the both of you enter Yunho’s spacious apartment, greeting the people as the both of you slither past them to look for the host. San spots Yunho from a distance and waves to him to get his attention. Yunho turns his head and pats the guy beside him to get his attention.

And it was Mingi.

Mingi has an unreadable expression the moment his eyes land on you, noticing your hand around San’s arm. He gives a small smile as the both of you walk over to greet Yunho.

“Hey. I’m glad you made it”, Yunho greets, giving San a hug as San removes himself from you, and then patting your head. Mingi still has his eyes on you, and you pretend not to notice.

“Yeah, I had to hold her at gunpoint for her to come”, San jokes, using your head as an arm rest. You roll your eyes.

“Damn. You really didn’t want to see me that much?” Yunho asks, pressing his palm against his chest, acting heartbroken. You playfully give him a light shove.

“It’s been awhile, y/n. Nice seeing you again”, Mingi chimes in, giving you a smile. You stare back, exchanging a small smile back at him. It had definitely been a couple of weeks since you contacted him, since the bullshit he spout.

“We’re going to play Spin the Bottle now, and you came just in time for that. San, y/n, you wanna join?”

Your gaze holds Mingi’s, almost challenging him and your grip tightens around San’s arm.

“Sure. Sounds fun.”

A circle quickly forms as everyone sits, there is about seven people in the circle, a mix of girls and guys, including you and Mingi, both of you sitting across each other. The game goes on pretty normally in the first hour, but as the drinks started flowing in, the questions and dares starting getting more spicy.

In the fourth round, the bottle spins, and it lands on Mingi.

“Truth”, Mingi says.

San pushes the question, “Have you liked anyone in the friend group before.”

You don’t catch Mingi’s gaze at you because you were too busy whispering something to San.

“Yeah.” A few “ooohs” echo in the room and you purse your lips in curiosity.

A few rounds later, the bottle spins, and it lands on you.

“Truth”, you say.

Yunho rubs his hands. “Is there anyone in the room that you wanna kiss?”

Fuck. The alcohol was definitely kicking in, but not enough for you drunkenly answer right away. You really wanted to lie.

Everyone had their eyes on you, curious of your answer, especially Mingi. He’s quiet, his gaze piercing into you, and you catch wind of it. Your anxiety slowly dissipates as you decide to be smug with that motherfucker. You know he’s gazing at you, and you hold the stare before shifting your gaze to San, who was fighting for his life with the alcohol, before saying, “Yes.”

Considering that your small gaze towards San wasn’t missed out by majority of the players, they laugh and clap their hands, evidently fooled by you. You smile as you sip your alcohol.

The bottle spins. And it lands on Mingi.

“Dare”, he says, almost too confidently.

Hongjoong immediately pushes, “Seven minutes in Heaven, to whoever the bottle lands on.”

Mingi scoffs, feeling confident, as he reaches for the bottle to spin it.

It spins, and it the neck lands on you. Your eyes widen in shock because you really did not expect that. Mingi has that unreadable expression on his face again, before Hongjoong smacks his back, reminding him of his dare. The players roar in excitement and whistles.

Seven minutes of being trapped in a room with each other.

Your mind is racing, but you tell yourself, anything could happen, including non-sexual things. The both of you could just sit alone together, albeit in a little bit of awkwardness, and just wait for the seven minutes to pass. Okay, that doesn’t sound so bad.

You and Mingi stay seated on the bed of a guest room, not saying anything to each other.

Seven minutes start.

“Are you avoiding me?” He asks after long pause.

“No?” You lie too quickly.

“Then why haven’t you been replying to my texts? We used to hang out so much.”

“I was just busy.”

“Liar.”

You glare at him, and he holds the stare.

“You’re finally looking at me properly”, he says, and your heartbeat ups another notch.

“Did I do something to upset you?”

Not really. You couldn’t really blame him, but at the same time, what happened genuinely did make you upset.

“No”, you reply, turning away, only for his fingers grab your chin.

He sighs. “Please stop looking away from me. It’s driving me crazy.”

Good. That’s cause he deserves it. The way his fingers are pressing onto your chin was starting to make you heat up.

“No. It’s mostly a me problem”, you vaguely tell him. “You sure you’re okay with doing this when you have a crush within the friend group?” You ask, as you lie onto the cold sheets.

Mingi doesn’t answer you, but he towers over you, looking at you with some sort of lust and desire—it was looking very dangerous.

“I’ll answer you non-verbally, if I get your consent”, he responds, his breathing getting heavier. You decided to take him on and nod.

He leans in and kisses you, feeling every part of your mouth, as he groans into your mouth. The alcoholic taste lingers, mixed with his saliva, tasted strangely sweet. He pulls your shirt off as you unbuckle his jeans.

The way his wet and leaking cock presses onto his underwear fucking scares you because he was so fucking big. He tugs your bottoms and undergarments off, almost too desperately, then soaking his fingers with his spit as he starts rubbing your clit slowly. Electric pulses through your spine, in pleasure as your back arches, and soft moans are leaving you.

He plunges in both hands when he deems you wet enough and you cry out as his fingers curl into you.

Five minutes.

He continues to fuck you with his fingers and you hands claw his arms, desperate for something more hotter, and bigger.

He pulls out, leaving you clenching at nothing. Mingi’s underwear is removed way too quickly and you gasp at his length and girth. He was not fucking around. He wraps his hands around his cock and pumps it a few times, giving you a small show of his groans and small bucking hips.

Four minutes.

Mingi lift your legs to his shoulder as you lay on your side as he slides his cock into you, before fucking you into the bed, his grunts and moans filling up the room. Fuck. His cock is too fucking big. It’s just dragging against every single nerve in your wall. Your hands were gripping onto the sheets, as you fail to keep your composure, and your moans.

“Fuck. You’re so tight”, Mingi exhales as he pulls out before slamming into you again as he drinks your whimpers and cries. “So fucking good.”

He lets your leg fall, and he fucks you from behind, his hands gripping your hips. Your limbs were starting to feel numb from the pleasure. He stops for a second before grabbing your waist, to put your back to lie against his chest. This only fucks up your sanity because his cock was stuffing your wet and abused cunt from the bottom.

“Mingi, it’s too much—fuck—so fucking big”, you cry out, your mind going hazy as he sucks against the skin on your neck. Your head was lolled back, and your eyes are rolled back too, feeling nothing but the sensation of Mingi’s cock going in and out of your hole, as you cream on his cock. Fuck, it felt like heaven.

“Such a good girl. Keep moaning for me”, Mingi hums as he, himself, also was struggling to form coherent thoughts as you were squeezing him out. His moans were trapped in your head because his lips were close to your ear. His fingers pinching your nipples before slapping your cunt gently, causing you to squeal and tighten around him and his voice goes up and octave.

“We have three more minutes,” Mingi says, his eyes glancing at the small timer facing the both of you. “We should really at least finish it with something good—like this”, he says as pushes into you so deeply and your body becomes paralysed, his cock slightly bulging your abdomen, your mouth is open but no sound is coming out. Your thighs tremble as tears pool at the corner of your eyes. Your pussy flutters around his cock as your orgasm hits you in waves. Mingi thrusts in you shallowly, his full cock still deep in you.

“Y/n, you’re creaming so much. It feels so fucking good. I’m gonna cum too, Princess”, he encourages, rubbing your clit in slow circles, tightening another knot in your abdomen.

Two minutes.

Mingi just wants to continue fucking into you until he’s satisfied, and once you feel his cock twitch in you, you know he’s close.

“So tell me, who was it did you want to kiss between the guys?” He suddenly asks, slowly decelerating his thrusts, and you were about to lose your fucking mind.

“Was it Choi fucking San?” He asks, his fingers cupping your chin to ensure you face him. He smiles, loving how fucked out you looked, ruined by him. “Tell me, princess.”

He pulls out in such a slow and painful speed that your thighs tremble from the way his cock just drags against your walls.

His grip on your cheeks lower to your neck, and he gently squeezes.

“Answer me”, he demands.

One minute.

“Fuck—it’s you. It’s fucking Song Mingi!” You cry out, craving his cock to fill you up like cockslut you were.

His eyes grow wild as he lets go of your throat , his hands slithering to your bottom of your thighs, spreading them even more as he bottoms out in you, slamming his cock right into you until you start seeing fucking stars behind your eyelids.

“Good girl. Take my fucking cum”, he says as he fucks into you one more time, his cock squirting strings of cum right into your pussy as your second orgasm overwhelms you, leaving you whimpering and shaking from the overstimulation as Mingi empties in you.

The timer goes off, the alarm annoyingly loud. Mingi gingerly pulls out of you as you twitch, and lets your head rest on the pillows. Your cunt was still throbbing, as it flutters at nothing while Mingi’s cum leaks out of you. He looks at you and smirks, like you are his favourite masterpiece. He inches forward and presses his lips onto yours as he strokes your hair.

“That’s my princess. I think it’s pretty obvious but I like you. I really, fucking like you”, he confesses. As you were about to reply through half-lidded eyes, the door knocks.

Mingi pulls the sheets over you before answering the door. Yunho had his arms crossed and his eyebrow raised. He spots you heaving softly against the guest bed and immediately puts two and two together.

“She’s not playing anymore,” Mingi answers, blocking his view.

Yunho scoffs. “Took the both of you fucking long enough. The tension was crazy. We’re going to get more drinks so the both of you can continue your own little game.”

Mingi laughs as Yunho leaves, before shutting the door behind him.

He stares at you, curled up in bed, still looking dazed, and walks over to you. He pulls the sheets off, and a mix of his cum and your arousal just dripping past your inner thighs, red flushing your ass and your cheeks.

Mingi licks his lips, suddenly hungry again as he towers over you to spread your legs once more, pushing in a finger way too easily, the sounds of his cum squelching out of your pussy as your eyes roll back again. His fingers cup your chin, forcing you to face his lustful gaze.

“Seven minutes are up but now we’ve got all the time in the world, princess. I’ll show what real heaven feels like.”

[octoberautumnbox]

Discordant Waltz: Adrenaline

Oh Sieun (Former IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri) & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, clothed sex, oral, feet?, friends with benefits, doggystyle

Word count: 4.2k

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon)

a/n: this took a while lol anyways! april release is here, tried something different again for now. as always, stay tuned for the next!

“I don’t care where you are or what the fuck you’ve been doing this entire time. Just please come to the convenience store by the river and meet me.” Sieun's voice, you're sure it's Sieun's voice, is mixed with a garbled tone through the phone.

“Okay, but-” And the line cuts. You shuffle your cellphone defeatedly back into your pocket and start towards your newly-mandated meeting place. 

You’ve only begun putting two and two together: The person you were just with wasn’t Sieun, even though she looks exactly like her. That person wasn’t like Sieun at all, especially not in the way the two of you had sex. It was so different, and the nagging feeling in the back of your head that something was wrong only grows clearer. 

A blaring horn unfreezes you from the middle of the street. You step out of the way and onto the sidewalk, and the truck’s irate driver brings the hulking machine past your point in the road. You watch it drive off, leaving a cloud of dust behind its wheels, and for what seems like a minuscule amount of time, you unfreeze yourself off once more from staring at the now-settled dust on the asphalt.

It dawns on you: you’ve slept with the wrong woman. It wasn’t your Sieun you just had sex with. The girl you just fucked wasn’t the girl you were supposed to fuck. But no matter how you say it, no matter how many times you think it in your head, it just doesn’t make sense. How could that not have been Sieun?

The walk back towards the convenience store by the river is slow and quiet, but your mind races with these thoughts, calling for just more and more of your brainpower to stay conscious and on track towards your meeting place. Even though you’re sure the initial confusion has subsided, the effect still settles deep within every bone of your body: you fucked another woman besides Sieun.

Before you know it, your feet bring you to the convenience store by the river. Sieun’s eyes meet yours from inside through the window, and she motions you to come in faster. You pull the door open and a cool blast of air hits your face, and Sieun pulls you into the seat beside her.

She fights the noodles down her throat, and after a quick gasp, she starts: “Apologize for missing my calls later. Lemme finish this first, then we go over to your house.” She downs a swig of Mountain Dew and fights back the stinging acid running down her throat. 

“My house? But-” she interrupts by bringing a chopstick to your lips. She sucks in air through her teeth, and finally goes back for more of her ramyeon. You note it’s the spicy kind as the heat coats your lips where her chopsticks touched.

“Please shut up while I’m eating. I’ll explain later.” She flashes you the dorky kind of smile that could nevertheless kill and returns to her ramyeon, paying you no further mind. 

Despite being over budget, you pick out another six-pack of beer for the two of you and bring it to the registers. She eyes you from her seat by the window and gives you a thumbs up from there. You sigh and wonder how you landed someone as great as her. If only…

~~~

“Wow, nice place.” Sieun's eyes roam across your living room, from your sofa, to the TV, to the coffee table with its remote and mug filled with cold tea from this morning. “Quaint. I like it.

“ What the fuck does ‘quaint’ mean, Oh Sieun?” you tease. Bring an arm around her shoulder and pull her close, plant a kiss on her cheek.

“It just means quaint,” she sighs casually, leaning into your embrace, “no more, no less.”

Both of you take off your shoes and make your way to the sofa. You place the six-pack of beer on the coffee table as Sieun bounces on a sofa cushion, evidently having a good time. You shoot her a look, and you're stopped in your tracks by how her hair falls unerringly into place like it does. She smiles at you again, but you take a seat on the floor in front of her.

“What are you doing down there?” Her giggle rings clear as day as she says it. She picks up a can of beer and pulls on the tab, releasing carbon dioxide in a melodious fizz that eases the tension around you: tension you didn't know was there.

She hands you the beer and you take it carefully, for some reason trying not to mess up whatever it is your body is planning to do next. You feel the cold floor tiles against the palm of your hand, not nearly as cold as the beer in the other, before giving up on both and focusing on the imminent warmth that is Sieun's feet. 

Set the beer down and grasp her soles through her cobalt blue socks. Find her muscles, tendons and nerves as you push and squeeze around her delicate feet. Wring out strangled sighs and shushed whimpers from Sieun’s lips.

“What the fuck are you doing…” Her breath hitches before continuing on unsteadily. She unravels, thread by thread, under the changing and shifting pressures you apply on her soles and toes, confusion vying to bubble up to the front of her mind but ultimately getting pushed back down by the attention you give her. 

“What’s gotten into you, babe?” She giggles more as you manipulate her body the way you like, and yet you’re pulled into her intensifying orbit. Your… friend… leans forward and takes your cheeks in her hands. She pulls you towards her and kisses you, nibbling your lower lip at every careful squeeze you apply on her foot. Her tongue tries to push past your teeth, and for the first time in a long time, you find yourself hesitant.

“You… must be tired today. I thought I’d be nice.” You try to hide the uncertainty in your voice, choosing to divert her attention elsewhere. You strip her of her socks and toss them in the general direction of your shoes. Continue to rub her feet, and she pulls you in for another kiss.

This time, you accept. Her tongue slips past your teeth and you meet it with yours, swirling around each other as more of her sultry gasps drift out of her mouth. Sieun pulls you even closer, trying to take in more of you, before she runs out of breath and has to break away. 

“Whew, that was hot,” your friend sighs as she leans back onto the backrest and breathes deep. Her head lolls back and she stares idly at the ceiling as she tries to catch her breath. “Where’d you learn that, huh, stud?” 

Ignoring her, you continue to massage her. Moving from her soles and toes to the balls of her feet, your hands make their way to her heels, then her ankles, and up to her calves. 

"Oh, I love how you think, babe." Your hands crawl up her smooth and creamy legs, and she flashes you a smirk. Sieun relaxes with a deep sigh and her eyes shut. Your friend's naughty smile is unsteady on her lips, victim to your sensual assault on her legs.

Stop momentarily, take a beer can from the table. You pull on the tab and release its own pent-up fizz and hand it to her, casually yet carefully. "Take a sip, baby. Let me take care of you."

She receives it with a tiny "thank you" and takes a sip. As you return to her massage, you watch her lips curl around the rim of the can, arousal growing as her tongue wipes over and collects the fluid left behind.

Your hands reach her hips and you grip resolutely. It catches her mid-sip, and it forces her to keep the beer in her mouth for a little while longer. Then, she makes a show of swallowing slowly and licking her lips after once more. 

You slip your fingers under the waistband of her PE pants and pull down. With a little help from your friend lifting her hips off the couch, you successfully peel it all off of her smooth legs. She spreads them for you and you’re met with a pair of blue lace panties covering her crotch. The sight of them sends even more blood rushing into your dick, and your self-control dwindles in the face of her needy whines.

“I picked out a cute pair for you today… You like?” Sieun brings her knees up to her chest, letting her feet dangle in the air. She hooks her arms under her legs and starts biting her finger enticingly, communicating what she wants you to do next.

Remember the comfort that is Oh Sieun, how you just get each other so well, how there’s next to no guesswork when it comes to her. You pull her panties to the side, revealing a drenched pussy in need of some love. The sensation of the fabric leaving her core is exhilarating for her, but nothing excites her more compared to what’s coming. She braces herself as you bring your face closer, and finally you drag your tongue up against her clit.

You pepper kisses all over her crotch in between long drags between her puffy lips and dripping cunt. "Mmm, babe…" She leaks more in response, torn between wanting you to go faster and harder or slower and softer, bucking her hips but changing her mind. Her sweet nectar intoxicates you like a love potion, wanting more of it, more of her, that you tighten your grip on her waist and hold her steady to lap up more of her essence. The feeling of your hands imprinting on her sides drives her closer to the edge, and her moans grow in volume and intensity as you continue the hard, hard work of loving her to death.

“Stop… No, not yet… I’m really close, babe,” she whines powerlessly, not knowing the effect it has on you. “Please come up here, I need you…” She unhooks her arms from her legs and draws them outstretched to receive you. In return, you stand over her and make quick work of your belt. She takes the initiative of pulling down your pants once free, and your friend’s delicate fingers grasp your already rock-hard cock to stroke and marvel at.

“You want this, baby?” Your cock twitches between her fingers, telling her wordlessly that you want her just as bad. With Sieun, there’s no need to thrust into her hands: she knows you so well, she’s so devoted to your cock that she learned for herself how best to service you.

“Yes, please…” She brings it down and right against her fuckhole. She teases herself with it; it’s all she could do when you loom over her with authority. She rubs your head on her clit, showing you just how ready she is for you, before tracing the lips of her pussy and smearing her slick all over your tip. “Can I please have it?” 

“Do what you have to do,” you command, and she heaves a sigh of arousal before doing her best job. Her hand slithers under her jacket and most probably under her bra again to pull out another condom. She tears it open with her teeth and, this time, places it on her lips. Sieun guides the rubber onto your tip and unrolls it onto your length using only her mouth, taking in more of your shaft as she does. She barely makes it all the way to your base, but a sudden bout of impatience hits her and she plunges herself onto you, taking you all the way and causing her to gag. You feel some of her spit drip onto your calf, so you stroke her hair and let her breathe. 

“You’re adorable, you know that? Taking my dick like such a good girl…” Grab a fistful of her hair and slowly pull her off your cock, letting more of her spit fall from her lips to wherever. Her eyes are shut and tears form in the corners, but she doesn’t wipe them away. 

You plant your hands on either side of her head on the backrest, still looming over her. She takes your cock in her hands again and aims it at her waiting entrance with a needy look in her eyes. “I can’t wait anymore, please?” 

Of course you indulge her. Enter her heat carefully, feel her walls make way for your length. Her mouth forms an “o” as you push yourself further and further into your friend’s core, rubbing against all her good spots, drawing out gasps and little moans from her.

“Babe, your thick cock is so good, please…” Her legs twitch when you hit certain points, letting you know exactly how she likes it. Her toes curl with pleasure as she welcomes you deeper into her sex, just as she searches for your lips to steal kisses from in spite of her eyes that won’t open.

You pick up the pace, spearing into her core faster and faster, as her grip on your shoulders tightens with each of your thrusts. Her forehead starts to form small beads of sweat, as do her forearms and the insides of her thighs. She’s getting restless again, squirming under you as you fuck her, and you place your hands on her hips again to keep her steady, the naughty girl. 

“Fuck, babe, please… Please!” She places her hand on the back of your neck to keep you close. Her eyes finally open and you see the fire within her pupils just begging to be doused. You can do nothing else but indulge her, and your friend grows wetter and tighter to accommodate her favorite cock. It only spurs you on further with how pliant, how willing Sieun is. Was she always like this?

On the other end of your mind, a gruesome memory resurfaces. Who was that girl? Why did she look exactly like Sieun? What was she doing in her house?

She pulls you in and captures your lips with hers. Your friend nibbles and licks and grunts throughout the kiss, aligned with every single one of your thrusts into her needy core, all the while trying to hold you tighter so she never lets you go. 

Why did she let you in like that? Why did she let you kiss her then? Why is she letting you kiss her now?

“Fuck… Fucking shit! You feel so good inside me, please!!!” Her screams of pleasure snap you awake, and you’re met with the visual of Oh Sieun, your friend, staring blankly into your eyes as you use her tight little fuckhole mercilessly. Her tongue hangs out her mouth and drops of saliva leak down to her chin and onto her jacket. “Please… please babe, I need more…”

You get the message and give her what she wants. Pull out, only for a moment, and let her adjust. She flips over, plants her knees into the seat cushions, places her hands on the backrest. Sieun presents her plump ass to you, and she squeezes her thigh before spreading her legs again to show you her dripping, freshly fucked cunt. 

As if hit with another dose of adrenaline, you shove your cock back into her soaked and quivering pussy, hard, causing her to yelp and scream. You grab her slim waist, feeling up her smooth skin just burning to be ravaged, and pull her towards you with every thrust, causing the sofa to creak and groan. However, it's nothing compared to the unholy noises forced out of Sieun's mouth; her lungs burn and her throat sores as she's subjected to more and more of your mind-numbing pleasure. 

“I can't… I can't hold it! Babe, I'm cumming!!!” Her velvet walls clench and suffocate your cock, but it does nothing to slow your maniacal pace. Your rough-fucking of her pussy never stops, never slows, and despite the pain she undeniably feels with you abusing her body (you know how sick she is in the head), she nevertheless pushes back to meet your pelvis in what little efforts she could take to bring herself over the edge. 

Your orgasm hits you like a train derailed, and despite your weakened state from earlier in the day, you deliver spurts and spurts of your warm cum into the rubber. She feels every twitch and throb of your cock inside her burning core, and it brings your friend over the edge too. Her hips convulse just as the first streaks of her girlcum spray out of her cunt, leaking more and more of her love juices onto the poor cushion underneath her with every jerk of her hips. She screams and wails her pleasure; surely she’s waking up with a sore throat tomorrow morning. For now, her teeth clamp down on the fabric of the backrest, the only thing she could reach with you keeping her firmly in place.

Your respective orgasms start to wind down, and you pull yourself out of her and let her collapse onto the sofa. Take your seat next to her, pick up your can of beer from the floor, lean back like a king. You take a sip, and the alcohol soothes your shot nerves and dry throat. 

Sieun cuddles up next to you, leaning on your shoulder and draping one of her arms across your chest. You place your arm over her in response, and she melts again.

“Whew,” she sighs, out of breath and with a noticeably raspy voice, “that was great. Why don’t you fuck me like that all the time?” Her chest rises and falls with every tiny circle she draws on your chest, and you squeeze her closer to you. You’re drawn back into the comfort of just understanding each other, of not needing to explain, of just being you around your friend.

But once again, the guilt bubbles in your chest. You remember: you’ve slept with another woman not even a day earlier who looks exactly like her, and what’s worse, she even felt better than Sieun did. She let you sniff her hair, kiss her neck, fuck her ass. Are you really not going to tell her?

The guilt rises up your throat and drops into your stomach at the same time. It dawns on you again, this is your friend. Your friend, who you drank beer with on a Friday afternoon. Your friend, who begged you to use her like she was yours. Your friend, who keeps condoms in her bra for you and only you. Just friends, that’s all. Are you really not going to tell her?

Suddenly, your view is obscured by her eyes. You find Sieun on top of you, straddling you, as she takes your cheeks in her hands. Her hair falls to her cheeks as she positions her face above yours, and she plants wet kisses and licks on your lips. 

“Thanks for today, babe,” she says between smooches. Your hands drift towards her hips again, and once you grasp them, she breathes out slowly and sensually. She breaks the kiss for a bit, but she keeps her forehead on yours. “If you’re trying to tempt me,” she runs her thumbs on your cheekbones, “then it’s working. But not right now, I’m spent.” Her giggles make their way into your ears again, and her gravity strengthens its pull on you once more.

You check the time and find it’s late, much too late for a lady like her to be out alone on a night like this. Wrap your arms around her waist tight, secure the woman of your dreams in your embrace forever. However, you know time is running out and the guilt will only root deeper into your system and eat you alive if you don’t pull it out soon; pull it out now. 

“Do you wanna bring this over to the bed?” You try your hardest to be casual about the question, but the way it comes out, shaky and tentatively-toned, makes it anything but. Still, she finds it cute, evidenced by the small giggle that escapes her. 

“Sorry, gotta be fair. I kick you out every week, don't I?” Oh Sieun stands up quickly and without any hint of dizziness, landing on her feet gracefully. What’s left of her slick runs down her creamy thighs and the moment you snap yourself out of staring at the lewd sight, you notice she was staring too.

“I need your shower and a towel, never mind if it’s used.” She makes her own way into your shower, but not before opening every closed door and flipping every light switch she could find. Once she finds the bathroom, her head peeks out from inside, and she calls at you:

“Leave the towel and my clothes by the door, I’ll get them when I’m done.”

The door shuts loudly, and you realize you failed. Without much else to do, you gather her things in your arms sullenly and drop them by the door like she asked. You retake your seat back on the couch and ultimately resolve to turn the beer in the can into beer in your stomach. 

~~~

Oh Sieun exits the bathroom clad in her perennial PE jacket and jogging pants, with the added twist of your towel wrapped around her hair. It’s the first time you’ve had her like this: squeaky clean, sweet-scented, relaxed like you didn’t just rail each other to oblivion. She’s beautiful, and you can’t even bring yourself to tell her.

“Hey, what’s the address here? I need a taxi.” She plops herself down next to you on the sofa and brings her legs over on your lap. Half of you regrets forgetting to put on pants, while the other half starts to get ideas. 

You reach out your hand to take her phone, but while Sieun leans over to give it to you, she notices your cock starting to harden once more. “Something’s up with you today, babe.” The phone makes its way from her hand to yours, and she gets an irresistibly naughty look in her eye again. 

Your friend takes your cock in between her bare soles. You feel the damp skin of her feet rub against your growing shaft while you type in your address and book her cab for her. 

“Is this gonna be a regular thing with us? Because,” you look over to her and find her leaning on the armrest with her head leaning on her hand, “I dunno. I could get used to this.”

“Could be if you want it to, Sieun.” You hand her back her phone, and she sees the cab on the map, only six minutes away. “I’d rather you not start something you’re not gonna finish, though.”

“Wow, Mister Bigshot. Challenge fucking accepted.” Your friend spreads her knees apart and shoves a hand into her pants. Sieun pulls her feet away and positions her face over your lap. She hurriedly takes half your length straight into her warm, wet mouth, and her tongue glides and rubs all over your shaft wherever and as far as she could reach. You grab her head and force it down to take more of you in, and her hips buck onto her hand the moment you feel yourself hit the back of her throat. 

You keep her there for a while, and she never ever stops running her lewd tongue over your dick. The sounds and vibrations coming from her mouth only spur you on further, as does the sight of her fingering herself under her pants just for you. 

Just to tease her more, you take her phone and show it to her: one more minute. She tries even harder to suck you off, hollowing out her cheeks and going wild with her tongue. Her moans grow deeper and louder to match yours, and the vibrations that reach your rock-hard cock drive you close to the edge.

“Baby, I’m close… Take my fucking seed in your mouth!” You pull her head down as far as she can go, and amidst gags and glucks your friend never tries pulling herself off, instead choosing to be a good girl and receive everything that’s for her and her alone. Your warm cum shoots into her throat, and despite her gags she never lets up or lets go of your cock between her lips. 

Her phone suddenly rings, no doubt the taxi calling to say he’s at the pickup point, and in the closest of calls your spurts come to an end. Sieun raises her head and shows you how much of your seed she collected on her tongue with a smile, and she makes a show of swallowing it all for you. 

She gets up and makes for the door, but when you try to follow her out you find your legs are jelly. Instead, she leans over and plants a kiss on your cheek, and as she walks off you hear the sound of your front door creaking opening and shutting quickly.

~~~

a/n: whew that was a wild ride LMAO anyways it was tough working on this throughout hiatus and even now idk if im actually really really back, but nevertheless here u are! once more i hope u enjoy reading as much as i did writing :)))))

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon)

[babyleostuff]

Hiii!!! so I just read your cheol fic when he was being a dick for his s/o caring (it hurts... it's the beginning of the title, sorry brain is fried from uni) I was wondering if we could get the in-between of the fight like in the practice room after s/o left and everyone was shocked. mingyu fought him?? like gotta know what happened, anyway sorry if this is too long

hope yoyr day, night, evening, morning, or whatever time it is for you is going well!! your writing is so captivating too btw

-Nabi

thank you so much for your request 💜 hope you enjoy this!

you can find part 1 here

HURTS SO BAD | PART 2 | CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

summary | seungcheol’s pov from my previous fic

genre | angst

word count | 1k

pairing | choi seungcheol x gn!reader

“Fuck you, Seungcheol.”

Instantly, as these words escaped your mouth, he regretted every single thing he just said, praying that he could somehow turn back time. But there was nothing he could do now, the damage was done, and he simply watched you leave with a heartbroken expression.

He wanted nothing more than to crumble into a small ball and hide somewhere far from here. 

Despite the music still playing from the speakers, the silence in the room was almost deafening. Seungcheol could feel the hard stares from the boys, as they tried to wrap their heads around what just happened. 

“Did you actually lose your mind?” Jeonghan was the first to speak up. Seungcheol didn’t dare to look up and face the disappointed expressions of his friends. 

“Never in all those years we have been together have you ever said anything so cruel, no matter how fuck up things were. And now you lash out at your, mind you, partner for being worried about you?” Jeonghan scoffed, clearly angry at his bandmate. 

Seungcheol knew that there was nothing he could say or do to make this situation better, he only stood there with hunched shoulders and a tight throat. 

“What has gotten into me,” he thought.

Yes, he was stressed as hell, and everything irritated him lately, but he swore he would never take his anxiety out on you. Well, until now. 

The jacket you threw at him caught his attention, laying abandoned on the floor. Is this how you feel right now - left behind and neglected, by the person who was supposed to love you no matter what? He took a step to pick it up, still feeling the warmth of your body coming from it. 

“I’m going to fix this,” Seungcheol said quietly, putting the fabric to his chest. 

“Did I hear you right, hyung? You’re going to make it right?” laughed Mingyu, approaching the older one. “You just yelled at your partner and told them the worst things you could have ever possibly said. We can put up with your bitchy behavior, but that’s not an excuse to treat them like shit,” he said, clearly very agitated by the whole affair. 

“Let it go Mingyu, he knows what he has done. It’s his problem now how he’s going to get out of this shit,” said Jihoon, putting an arm on the taller’s shoulder to calm him down. 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t change the fact that he just basically emotionally abused one of my best friends.” 

“Hey, don’t you fucking dare saying I abused them in any way,” Seungcheol raised his voice at at younger boy, his emotions getting out of hand. “I know what I have done, and I’m going to make it right again,” he said, not exactly convinced himself. 

“So what, you think you'll buy them flowers, pout and make puppy eyes, and they'll forgive you?” he scoffed and crossed his arms, making him look bigger than he already was. 

“No, making puppy eyes is your thing, I’m not that cheap,” Seungcheol fired right back at him. 

With each exchange between Seungcheol and Mingyu the tension only escalated, the atmosphere becoming charged with a mix of anger, frustration, and hurt. Their tones harsh and cutting, both of them tried to defend their position. Sadness, and disappointment were evident on their faces, further fueling the intensity of the situation. 

“I messed up, alright? But you're acting like I hurt them on purpose-.” 

“Well, to us it looked like you wanted to-.” 

“Could you just stay the fuck away from my relationship and focus on your shitty love life?” 

The rest of the boys, who were skeptically watching what was going on, knew this wouldn’t end well. Mingyu might have been passive most of the time, letting the others walk over him and still not batting an eye, but when it comes to his friends and their well being, he wouldn’t just stand around and watch. 

Wonwoo who was standing by the mirrors slowly came up to Mingyu and patted his back. 

“There is no use Mingoo, you’re not helping here,” he said sternly. 

“Well, I have the right to be angry.” 

“No one said you didn’t, but let’s not add more fuel to the fire, okay?” 

Mingyu glared at Seungcheol for the final time, before turning around and walking out of the room. 

“I’m going to check up on him,” said Mingaho. 

As the tension evaporated the second Mingyu left, Seungcheol could feel his anger turn to sadness and powerlessness. Now not only has he hurt you, but also his friend, who was so dear to him. 

Seungcheol felt trapped, not knowing what to do next and feeling extremely mentally and emotionally drained. He sighed deeply with a blank stare, drained from all of his usual energy. 

With the silence still apparent, everyone parted ways to give Seungcheol some space. Only Jeonghan and Joshua stayed by his side, not knowing what to do. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” asked the oldest, with a tired voice. 

“We’re all here for you, Coups and you're not alone in this. Don’t worry about Mingyu for now, he’ll come around,” said Joshua. “Take a deep breath and try to think clearly about this.” 

“It's just that everything seems to be going wrong, and I feel like I have no control over it.”

“We know, but you should have just talked to them. Why didn’t you do it? Why did it have to come to this Coups?” asked Jeonghan. 

“I don’t know, I really don’t. I thought I was stronger than this, that it would pass and everything would be okay. I just didn’t want to be a burden to them.” 

“Well that didn’t end up too well,” said Joshua, laughing at Seungcheol’s pouting face. 

“Thank you for being here for me. I really need that right now.”

“Of course! That's what family is for. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re all so pissed at you right now,” said Jeonghan. 

“Yeah, for a second there I thought Mingyu was going to punch me or something,” chuckled Sungcheol. 

“I wish he did,” muttered Joshua, and walked away quickly before the oldest could respond. 

“I’m going to make this right,” thought Seungcheol. “No matter what it takes.” 

[piratefishmama]

Just ONE chance | Part 2

“Are you gonna message him?” It was later in the evening, Rosie was in the living room watching some gameshow while Stevie sat at the kitchen island, having just finished cleaning up after dinner, Robin facing her through her phone, stuffing her face with what looked like French fries.

“Dusty thinks I should but… should I? It doesn’t feel too… I dunno, desperate? Cause I’m not desperate, I could not care less about dating rockstars, in fact before all this the idea of dating a rockstar would have never crossed my m—“

“Stevie” Robin cut her off “if anyone seems desperate right now, it’s him. It ain’t you, nobody in their right mind could think it was you. You were just doing your own damn thing and he cringe-failed so hard he broke the internet. Listen… you don’t have to do shit, EVEN IF Dustin is telling you to. Dustin doesn’t know everything.” Stevie bit her bottom lip in pensive thought, Robin on the other end of the video call stuffed another French fry into her mouth before asking, “do you want to though? That’s the important thing, do you want to?”

“I don’t KNOW, that’s the problem. It’s nice… I guess… to be wanted, but it’s not just about me anymore.” It was about Rosie. Stevie’s life wouldn’t be the only life impacted if she took that chance. Maybe if she were younger, maybe if she didn’t have Rosie things would be different, maybe she’d have been wild and jumped at it, but she had Rosie, and Rosie mattered way more to her than anything a stranger on the internet could give her.

“It’s a little bit about you, Stevie, and it’s okay to let it be about you. You’ve spent literal years putting yourself on the back burner, even Mike got hitched before you, like who called that?” Nobody. Nobody called that, even though he and Will had been dancing around each other since kindergarten, nobody would have called that. “We both know Billy wouldn’t have wanted you to be on your own like this either.”

“What if he’s weird about Rosie?”

“Then he hits the road, simple. I heard he’s good with kids though.” Stevie offered a look, a simple unimpressed raised brow “Whaaatt, okay fine I looked him up when I saw it all blowing up, call it me doing my sisterly duty. He’s weird, but in a harmless opossum kind a way, y’know? Like he probably scampers or something.”

“What about like… drugs… alcohol… shit I don’t want around Rosie?”

“According to his Wiki page, the whole band an issue with addiction in the early days, toxic music label, it was a huge legal mess, they all went to rehab, cut their old label an they’ve all been clean and sober since. Knowing you, like I do… I really do think you’d like him, and Rosie would love him too, He’s very… I dunno…”

Vickie, Robin’s fiancée, chose that exact moment to shove her face into view of the camera to announce, “He’s like a mix between Billy and Dustin, a suuuper-hot, but a huge nerd, you’d like him, definitely.”

A weird mix of Billy and Dustin. What a wild mental image.

“So you’re both on Dustin’s side then. I should message him?”

“It’s not our place to tell you what to do” Robin shrugged, she couldn’t tell her what to do, but she could offer a helpful suggestion of “maybe ask Rosie, she’s the only reason you’re hesitating and she’s old enough now to at least have an opinion, right?” Stevie looked toward the living room, where the glow of the TV bounced off the walls, Rosie’s laughter echoing from the other room.

“She already knows somethings up, Stevie, kids talk in school” Vickie reminded them “and Eddie’s… pretty famous, Corroded Coffin aren’t exactly unknown, an you’re not exactly unknown online either, someone’s bound to have mentioned it to her by now.” If the kids hadn’t, Dustin probably would eventually just to get her on his side before Stevie could get her on hers.

“Fine. But if this all blows up in my face, i’m revoking both your lunch privileges, for life.”

“What?! N—” Stevie cut their unison attempt to argue off with a well-timed click of the end call button, put her phone face down on the island top so she could ignore the incessant buzzing of them attempting to dial back, and made her way to the living room, where someone just face planted into a lovely pool of mud on the TV. Good ol gameshow night.

“Rosie…?” No time like the present. “Can we talk?”

It wasn’t often that Stevie interrupted gameshow night, usually they’d be watching it together, but Stevie had had other things on her mind, other much more pressing things that people didn’t seem to want to let die.

She was prepared to let them die, let this be a weird story of her ‘youth’ that she’d remember some day in a nursing home, a story nobody would believe but she’d swear blind happened!

A rockstar thought she was hot enough to send the internet into a meltdown one time. It happened, she swore it!

It wouldn’t die though. Not until she either told everyone to drop it, or entertained it.

“Sure, but uhm… if this is about the Eddie Munson thing—” she turned away from the TV to look at her mom “Uncle Dusty warned me about it way in advance, got me just before school started this morning.” Probably saved her from being ambushed about it by the kids at school. “It’s cool! He’s really cool, I mean, he’s super weird, huge nerd but… he seems nice”

Meddling little shit. Stevie took a breath, accepted this information, decided to deal with it later, and just powered through. “And you don’t think it’s unrealistic for everyone to think this is real?”

“It’s definitely real, mom. Uncle Dusty found his private account on your followers list, he’s been following you for aaaaaages,”

“Most people call that stalking.” How did Dustin even find it among the mass of others? Had Eddie been that obvious? Or was Dustin just that good?

“In the old days maybe! It’s almost romantic nowadays. You should message him, before Uncle Dusty does, cause he will. We both know he will.” Dustin had been uncomfortably absent all day since bursting in without warning. Stevie hadn’t even thought of it as a red flag until Rosie mentioned it ought to be. “It’s time, mom. It’s okay.”

“You’re really okay with it? It’s not crazy?”

“Oh, it’s SUPER crazy, but it’s a cool crazy, my mom’s gonna date thee Eddie Munson cause he begged you to, it’s the best kind of nuts, I wonder if he’d teach me how to play guitar…”

Had Eddie Munson actually asked anyone before he opened those DM’s, anyone at all, because he didn’t really consult the band as to what he was going to DO on the band's accounts, they’d have probably told him not to do that.

And they’d have been correct!

Because everyone and their mother, and even some fathers, decided to shoot a shot they never had!

He didn’t just get one DM, no, he got… many. Many. People messaged asking for autographs, merch, people asked for tickets, some offered themselves if Stevie didn’t message, some offered to DRESS UP as Stevie for him, a few went with Eddie’s own plan simply messaging with a plea for just ONE chance for themselves.

For hours. Hours. He scrolled through those messages.

Sure, he could have gotten someone to do it for him, but he’d done everything else on the account by himself, so he’d tackle the DMs too. He’d delete them, one by one, everything that wasn’t relevant to his quest, making sure to view each one, even if they did surprise him in their creativity, because what if she had a private account like he did? What if she actually recognised her popularity and created a tiny incognito safe haven from it all like he did?

She didn’t though.

She didn’t have one.

She didn’t need one.

At least that was what he gathered at the end of the long list of DMs, she didn’t have a private, she just had her main one, and she hadn’t sent him anything from it.

He knew it was a long shot, he could have had all the fame and fortune in the world, it wouldn’t matter if she wasn’t interested in it all and she clearly didn’t seem to be if what Chrissy had said was true. She didn’t do sponsored posts; she wasn’t aiming for fame and fortune. She lived a comfortable life with her kid, and just happened to be popular on the internet.

She didn’t owe him anything, he didn’t deserve an answer, he—

Bzzt-bzzt

He snatched his phone right back up lightning fast, swiped down the notifications bar, and with wide eyes read the first line of the message he’d been sent,

“PLEASE HEAR ME OUT I’M STEVIE’S BROTHER, DUSTIN.”

Eddie wasn’t about to claim Stevie didn’t have a brother. He didn’t know if Stevie had a brother, just that Stevie had a sister because the sister, Robin, had turned up in a video once, bursting in on a live in the early days to accidentally announce to the world that ‘Vickie’ was now single.

It could be a trick, it could be a way in, it could be literally anything, what Eddie knew for sure though, was that it was the closest he’d gotten to potentially speaking to Stevie.

So, he did the only thing he could think of.

He replied, “prove it.”

The reply came through quickly, almost like this mysterious brother was waiting by the phone in hopes Eddie would be there to receive his message. It was a photo of a polaroid. Grainy as it was, it was clearly a younger, frankly stunning Stevie with a barely-there baby bump, reaching back to a guy who was leaning over her with a ridiculously stacked sandwich, she looked happy, she looked lovestruck, she glowed, and for a moment, jealousy struck him as if he were some childish teenager.

This was likely her child’s father, the one who was no longer in the picture for some unknown reason. She’d never disclosed why. He looked happy too though so… there were more questions than answers at that point.

Plus, the Polaroid had a scrawled “Stevie domesticated Satan” on the white part with a little devil face so, many questions, very few answers.

With the image, however, came the caption “I took this when she was pregnant with Rosie, it’s the last photo we have of Billy, Rosie’s dad.”

Rosie… Stevie had a little girl.

Another photo followed, this one of Stevie and a younger boy with curly hair, the kid all dressed up in a brown suit, hair done up to the nines, probably for some kind of party. No pregnancy in sight, they were both beaming at the camera, the kid with an awful lot of metal in his mouth but, adorable. The Polaroid had “Snowball!!!” scribbled on the white part, followed by a message reading “my mom took tons of photos of us for the Snowball dance back when I was in middle school, Stevie helped me do my hair” so the kid was supposed to be this ‘brother’ of hers.

A final photo was sent, this one clearer, obviously taken on a phone of what looked like a grade graduation ceremony, a more recent image of Stevie, with her daughter, and an older version of the kid from the snowball picture. Captioned with the message “only family could get so many family pictures!” 

The next message came through without a photo “we’re not related by birth, she was my babysitter for years before circumstances got her adopted by my mom. I’m oversharing a lot and she’s probably gonna kick my ass for it BUT I think she’d like you if she gave you a chance so I’m building a bridge of communication!”

Oh yeah, this guy had meddling little brother energy for days.

Eddie quickly typed back, “thanks for your vote of confidence, man but she isn’t giving me a chance here, you are, it’s not up to anyone but her.”

Typing—typing—tyyyyyping “she just doesn’t know you, an she’s hesitating cause of Rosie, I could probably get you a meet up though!”

“What like, ambushing her in the wild?”

“It’d work!”

“Sounds like it’d get me slapped by both her, and a restraining order an neither are good for my public image, or my feelings.” He then quickly added, before ‘Dustin’ could argue “Listen dude as much as I appreciate this, an I do, I’m real touched by your approval, it means the world to me, at the end of the day, it’s up to her. You can’t make this decision for her, alright?”

The typing stopped, then started again, and then stopped. Then finally “fine, but can you leave your DMs open for a little longer? She’s got Rosie to consider so she may just need to think about it a bit longer.”

“Deal.” He’d leave them open for one more day, after that he’d just have to accept the loss, accept that she didn’t want him, cause she sure as shit didn’t need him, and move on with his life.

Dustin sent him one last emoji, a little salute, and that was that for the rest of the night. There were a few more pings, opportunists, but nothing from the person who mattered most. He deleted them, switched his phone to silent, and took his disappointed little self to bed.

It wasn’t that late but, he was done for the day.

He was tired.

[lornaka]

My five cents on Tech’s fate in TBB

It’s been over three weeks since the show ended and I’ve been writing this in my head ever since, mostly to have it summed up in one post for posterity lol. I considered letting it go at this point but I know it’ll drive me crazy if I don’t get it out of my system so might as well.

So here we go, some of my rambly post-finale thoughts on Tech’s death (and a few other issues) under the cut!

Disclaimer: while this post is in critical spirit (because that’s how my brain works), I want to make clear that I have nothing but respect and gratitude towards everyone who’s worked on the show. My criticisms are of the final story as a whole as I interpret it (art is art, everything is subjective, you know the drill), but one never knows what goes into the process of making it behind the scenes, so I’m not holding anything against the creative team. I love this show dearly and am in awe of how good it is at its best, despite certain things I wish they did differently.

To begin, if I had to sum up the biggest problem that TBB writing suffers from, it would be lack of closure, and too many red herrings. Not just for Tech, but many things. Major plot threads as well as little character moments are cultivated or thrown in just to never culminate in anything or to be immediately discarded after serving the plot, some of them incredibly misleading. Some of the top examples:

- Crosshair’s chip. We never get an exploration of how the trauma of his chip activating and being left behind not only affected his motivation and choice to stay with the Empire, but his relationship with his brothers. While it was made fairly obvious, if subtly, that Crosshair became free of the chip’s influence after getting hit by the ion engine on Bracca, the narrative treated this change as if it didn’t matter at that point, while it obviously mattered a lot within the context of Crosshair’s character. Add to that all these little details with him clutching his head in s1 finale, Omega expressing her disappointment in him, and Tech’s comment on how “it is just his nature” (as if it matters!!! See what I mean about the narrative treating Cross’s chip as if it didn’t play the key part in his trajectory? They throw in this line, like we are supposed to take away that it’s simply Crosshair being Crosshair and not like, the results of brainwashing and abandonment), Wrecker blaming Crosshair for not going back to them, all while we as the audience have been shown and told repeatedly how these chips work (and so were the Batch), we ended up with an incredibly confusing situation with lots of mixed signals from the writers. And once Crosshair makes his choice to stay with the Empire in s1 finale, his chip and the confusion it brought to his relationship with his brothers is never brought up again, because the plot simply moves on.

- Cid’s betrayal. After her being a major character for two seasons with a continuous relationship build-up with Omega in particular, she is discarded as soon as her betrayal serves the plot, with all that character development getting thrown out of the window. You can be mad at Cid all you want, but to me it’s incredibly weird and wasteful to end two seasons worth of build up on that note without it having any closure for the characters, especially Omega whose whole theme is trusting people and bringing out the best in them. It’s fine if they decided to make Cid exactly what she appeared on the surface (untrustworthy and self-serving) after playing around with her potentially growing through her fondness of Omega, but then at the very least the betrayal should’ve had an impact on the characters, Omega most of all. Even just one casual line from Omega in s3 about how Cid’s betrayal impacted her emotionally, however minimally, would have solved that problem. And no, CX-2 mentioning how he extracted info on Phee from her off screen absolutely doesn’t count as closure, because I’m talking about emotional closure for the main pov characters as well as the audience. Cid had a presence for two seasons, then as soon as she executed her role as a traitor to further the plot, she was discarded like she was a random extra.

- Emerie’s relationship with Hemlock. We are led to believe that he basically raised her, instilling in her the idea that she had no chance without him and owed her purpose and “safety” to him. You can’t tell me that this didn’t deeply affect her struggle and eventual decision to break away from all that and choose to help the kids, basically betraying Hemlock. I get that the show only had so much screen time and Emerie is a supporting character in season 3 at best, but common, she has more tension with Dr. Scalder than Hemlock while the potential for this rich deep conflict between them is right there.

I can probably list more smaller examples but this is getting long and I don’t want to go on any more tangents, so, finally, the biggest example of lack of closure and tendency of TBB writing to display foreshadowing that leads nowhere:

Tech’s death.

First of all, I’ll die on the hill that it wasn’t denial or delusion that led to such a big portion of the audience to believe that Tech didn’t really die in s2. If we look at the facts:

- there was no body

- it’s the finale of season 2 out of 3, pretty early for one of the main titular characters to get killed off

- the only/last character to allegedly see Tech after his fall is a villainous scientist who is known to experiment on clones specifically

- not a fact but: the whole scene with Hemlock presenting Tech’s goggles to Hunter was incredibly suspicious. In hindsight, I think the whole purpose of it was so that the Batch got Tech’s goggles back in their possession as a memento (and to show how evil Hemlock is to rub it into Hunter’s face like that) but it was executed in a way that read as something much more. It read as if Hemlock was going out of his way to convince us/Hunter of Tech’s death, but with us knowing who Hemlock is, his background in experimenting on clones, everything screams at us to not trust a word he says. Is it really so surprising that so many of the viewers immediately jumped at the conclusion that something more was going on there?

- Hunter’s (lack of) reaction/immediate narrative fall-out. More on that later as I address lack of emotional impact of Tech’s death in s3.

- it’s Star Wars. And there was no body.

So yeah, to me, it is completely justified that so many people read that whole thing as open to speculation at the very least, foreshadowing Tech’s survival at most.

Personally, I was 70% sure Tech was truly dead prior to s3, but not because the text told me so, but because at that point I was used to the show’s writing regularly sending out mixed signals, and a part of me was resigned to Tech’s death becoming another example of the writer’s intent clashing with their accidental empty foreshadowing.

As season 3 aired and the whole CX-2 plot was unfolding alongside continued lack of closure for Tech’s fate, my hope for Tech Lives reveal grew and grew, but in the end my initial doubt was proven right, unfortunately.

Oh, CX-2.. what a mess. You can’t tell me the creators went over all of these scenes, all of these lines, looked at the whole picture and *didn’t* see how it was incredibly easy to interpret CX-2 as potentially being Tech with all these little potential parallels. “Domicile” alone.

If they didn’t want us to entertain the idea that it could be Tech, they could’ve done it differently, but for some reason, they chose to leave that space for speculation. My question is, why?

If they truly wanted us to believe Plan 99 was it, Tech’s Noble End that we were supposed to take as this dramatic super emotional ultimate sacrifice and all that, then why would they not make it clear that CX-2 couldn’t be Tech? Why breed confusion? And breed confusion they did. It’s hard for me to believe they didn’t foresee the “ohh is it Tech?” speculation.

When so many members of the audience immediately and individually jump at a theory or have the same take away from the story they are being told, yet the authors say it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, something went seriously wrong with the writing.

I don’t like to speculate on such things because we will probably never know for certain, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they had at some point considered CX-2 being Tech or at least something more for the whole CX plot thread, but changed and reshuffled things at the last minute for whatever reasons.

Which is fine and understandable. But it brings me to the heart of my biggest issue with how Tech’s fate was handled:

lack of impact and closure.

Let’s disregard all the Tech Lives theories for a moment and focus on what we did get: Tech, one of the main characters, getting killed off at the end of s2 out of 3, for stakes and consequences and NOTHING else. When I say nothing, I mean nothing.

Imagine, for a moment, he survived and stayed with the Batch. Nothing would have changed, in the grand scheme of things. Nothing. We wouldn’t have had a few obligatory “Tech mention, everyone feel sad now” throwaway lines/goggle shots and whatnot, sure, but that’s it.

Tech dying didn’t change the trajectory of the plot in any way, nor did it affect any of the other characters in a way that changed their trajectory. And anything less is simply not enough to justify killing one of your main characters. Stakes and consequences ain’t it.

Consider Mayday, for example: a supporting character, but his death in s2 affected Crosshair in such a way it completely redirected his journey, AND in s3 we got an episode that cemented the impact Mayday had on Crosshair and provided emotional closure for them. That’s a narratively meaningful death.

Tech’s death was not meaningful to the narrative beyond removing him from it. That’s why so many Tech fans insist he deserved better treatment: not only was he not present in one third of the show physically, but he lacked any sort of presence even in death. His absence was never processed or grieved by any of the main characters and so by extension by the audience.

And before anyone starts with the whole ‘they are soldiers/they had no time to grieve/etc’ arguments, it is the responsibility of the writers to provide the space for all of that emotional impact. It they don’t, there is no impact.

A few reactions here and there, moments of missing Tech as a person and a brother, not an asset, anything would have made this whole thing easier to accept.

The lines that we did get, from Omega mentioning the stuff Tech taught her to Echo commenting on how decryption would be easier if Tech was with them to “Clone Force 99 died with Tech” from Crosshair - each and every single one of those lines linked to Tech’s functions as part of the squad, his usefulness, but we didn’t get a single line in remembrance of him as a person of his own, no one missed or remembered him for himself or his personal impact on them.

Just one line from Omega about how he taught her about change being a constant part of life or whatever, or Wrecker making a comment on how Tech used to info dump about stuff, anything would have instantly provided that much needed sense of “he was here, he was a person and is still a part of us”. Instead, Tech was killed off to show that messing with the Empire is dangerous and risks are real, I guess, and immediately lost any and all presence within the story.

We never even got to see Crosshair’s or Phee’s reactions to losing him.

Speaking of Crosshair, that’s a whole other example of complete lack of closure: they never closed the loop on the family being reunited again after initially leaving Crosshair behind, and with Tech dead, it’ll forever stay broken.

They could’ve given this a bittersweet yet meaningful spin if they developed the angle of Tech dying on a mission to bring Crosshair home, making a sacrifice so Crosshair had a chance.

Instead, the moment Tech dies, we get Hunter (and through him, the narrative) immediately abandon the idea/plot thread of going to rescue Cross all while saying “let’s not waste Tech’s sacrifice”. Sacrifice for what? Clearly Hunter doesn’t see it as a sacrifice for Crosshair’s sake, so, what, to make sure the rest of them makes it from the mission? The mission to save Crosshair. That mission. Right.

I see people talking about Tech’s noble sacrifice that ensured his family got to live and eventually have their happy ending, but all I can think about is how the creators chose to have him die on a mission that was immediately abandoned and the only take away from that whole sub plot was Tech’s own demise.

And after Crosshair is back with the Batch, his reaction to Tech’s death is never explored at all.

So yes, to me Tech deserved so much better. If you are going to kill off a major character, it must be necessary to be compelling. The way I see it, Tech’s death was not necessary at all because it didn’t change anything. And if it was meant to, the creators failed to communicate that by choosing not to explore the emotional impact of it and not structuring certain story beats in a more precise manner.

To wrap this up, if the way Tech’s death was handled was satisfying for you, that’s valid and I’m glad for you. For me, unfortunately, it’s completely the opposite and will forever remain the biggest and most unfortunate low point in the story.

And while I welcome anyone to share their own perspective if they wish, please don’t take this post as an invitation for debate, since there is no one right or wrong way to interpret or be affected by art.

[dystopyx-blog]

as a Floyd enjoyer

I do read a LOT of octotrio posts.

Like a lot

so, as a yandere writer

time for yandere octotrio headcanons!

a lot of this will probably tie in for my ideas for my self insert and yandere posts I’ve written in the past!

it’s hard to say who was interested in you first. Either Azul was interested and sent the tweels on you, or the tweels were interested in you and then got azul interested and then azul sent the tweels on you, all I can say for certain is that at some point, someone is interested, and you get the tweels sent on you.

So you got the tweels following you around now. The two have different ways of studying. Floyd, of course, is more hands on. Jade typically stays back, taking EXTENSIVE mental notes. He mostly only gets involved when he can tell Floyd is getting a bit too… much for any one person to handle.

of course, then you have to deal with TWO tweels, and idc who you are, dealing with BOTH of them is way more to handle than just one of them. Like, one tweel is like 100%, but when those fuckers are working together it’s like at least 110%.

but… you seem to handle them really well somehow??

so whether it was Azul who was interested first, or they were interested from the very start, safe to say they are VERY interested in you now.

The tweels, despite being chaotic neutral at best (chaotic evil at worst) are still pretty goddamn loyal to Azul. So they eagerly report back to him (either to convince him or further convince him, again, doesn’t matter)

then this is where it gets really fun (for me)

I love the octotrio, and what I especially love is the mix of platonic and romantic. Like, ofc Floyd and Jade are purely familial. But when it comes to their relationship with Azul, it’s the kind of platonic that so fucking seamlessly shifts into romantic that no one is sure when it turned, and also no one cares. The octotrio blend so fucking seamlessly with each other, that they could even be purely platonic with each other, it could be less romance and more family, but an outsider would never fucking know or understand that. THE OCTOTRIO RELATIONSHIP/S ARE SO FUCKIN NOM NOM NOM I’M DEVOURING IT —

Ahem

anyway

point is, whether octotrio is a romantic poly or just three really fucking close friends, they all look at you and go “that one, we want that one.” And they don’t even have to vocally announce they want to share you, it is understood. There is no “all in favor say aye,” after a few times of the tweels reporting back to Azul they’re just all agreed “yes, this one is ours now, we are taking them for the seafood polycule.”

calamari, unagi, and shrimp, yum yum

ANYWAY

Expect the tweels on yo ass even more than before. Not only that, but they are FULLY embracing their statuses as fucking terrifying menaces to keep all your icky clingy friends away

Suddenly they’re paying extra close attention to your flaws. All of which they find endlessly endearing, what they’re really looking for is a chance to snap.

an insecurity, a life ending mistake, anything to get a chance to whisper in your ear that you need special help. Or maybe they’ll even use the fact they’re living up to their name and stick to you like leeches to convince you you need to talk to Azul

maybe you’re strong, maybe you can’t be fully convinced. Maybe once they do bring you to Azul (trust me, they will) you decide “nope, I’m out.” Thing is though, once they get you there, it’s already decided. Azul will know exactly how to trap you, exactly what to do to get you to come back, or even better, stay.

if you’re in Yuu’s shoes, I imagine he’d be willing to let you AND Grim live in the lounge. To make it less suspicious, he’ll probably say you have to work, or that he gets to use Ramshackle. Something to make sure you’re not suspicious why he’s suddenly so hospitable. But really, ramshackle or service are not what he’s after. Obviously. No, he needs you there, with them.

I don’t even really have to get into what these guys do as yanderes, since most students are already pretty frightened by the tweels. And now that they have someone to ‘protect’? HO BOI, do they REALLY give the student body to fear.

and if they get past Jade and Floyd, then there’s Azul, who will bribe or blackmail until they leave their darling alone.

yeah, sorry to say, once they have you in their sights, it’s pm over for you.

Doesn’t matter who saw you first, cuz you were doomed from the start either way.

GENERAL OCTOTRIO + READER HEADCANONS ❤️

Pleeeasassse I cannot get the image of octotrio dog pile outta my headdd. Azul, Jade, and Floyd are CUDDLY MOTHERFUCKERS, you cannot convince me otherwise. And once they have you, you’re joining. Typically Jade and Floyd both spoon Azul (you can’t convince me otherwise (or maybe you can, let’s talk)), and you’ll likely be sandwiched between Azul and whichever tweel called dibs that night. Or, it’s the true dog pile, where limbs are kind just all over the place. There’s typically a tweel at the bottom (cuz big bois), and that tweel is typically Jade because Floyd insists on being on top, despite his height and weight. And adding you just makes the dog pile feel so much fuller ❤️ (and if you’re one of those people like me who falls asleep better with like weight on top of you… yeah, you are not gonna be awake long enough to protest)

it may take a while for Azul to get comfortable enough to go full octomer on you, especially if you’re a darling who runs away, but once he does trust you enough, he will. And like… come on, I think we as a fandom agree that octo Azul is beautiful/adorable, so of course you do not react negatively to it, even if you’re a stubborn darling.

maybe you’re speechless, and Azul gets flustered and wants to ZOOM back to the surface, but the tweels hold him back, and thank god they do, because even if you aren’t screaming “omg you’re so cute/pretty!!” like I would, you probably mutter it under your breath, just loud enough that he definitely hears (did you know sound moves faster in water?) and he is a blushing cephaloboy. (Bet you didn’t think I’d bring SCIENCE into this, HA)

Suddenly now they’re also snuggling you in the water in med form, because yes these boys cuddle in med form, and you’re one of them now. Can’t breathe in water? Silly, they got magic for that. You are not getting out of this seafood pancake 🫵🫵

you are going to have so many limbs all over you omg. The tweels are trying their damndest to wrap their eel tails around the both of you, and Azul is keeping all of y’all together with his arms

(here’s another science fact, octopus do not have tentacles, those are arms)

AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE BREE—

[katanablue]

Donnie + simultaneous orgasm

Warnings: toy usage, grinding

If you had to choose one of the million things about Donnie you were extremely grateful for; in this moment you’d pick how experimental and open he was when it came to things in the bedroom.

You’d even place it right on top when he’s the one who suggests something new.

Like right now, when he brought up the idea of finishing together at the same time.

“Just shift a little more left and… ohhh— yeah right there. Right there, Dove.”

You could barely keep your eyes open, not when the vibrator perfectly placed between you and Donatello is sending waves of pleasure throughout your bodies. You balance yourself with your hands on his plastron, fingers spread wide and flexing into him as you started to gently rock your hips. Donnie puts his own hands on your waist and starts to move along with you, mouth hanging open as the vibrations travel throughout his cock.

Your combined soft pants filled your bedroom, careful to not go past a certain volume considering it’s late at night and your apartment walls aren’t exactly soundproof. But right now you weren’t focusing on that, right now you were too zoned in on the toy against you and watching your genius boyfriend rut against you and it.

“You look so beautiful, Dove.” He whispers and trails a hand up your chest to lightly pinch your nipple, twisting it delicately and then switching to your other. You whimper and dig your nails into his plastron, grinding yourself a bit faster against the toy, spreading your arousal over it and Donnie’s thighs.

“Fuck, Donnie. Why didn’t we done this sooner?” Your voice is almost slurring, laced with desire and the dire ache to orgasm. But you remember why you’re doing this in the first place, to reach that blissful peak at the same time as your terrapin lover.

“Doesn’t matter. What matters now is— ohh God lean forward again, just like that!” He moans loudly, throwing his head back and bucking his hips upward which in turn causes the vibrator to be more snug against you. You cry out and rock your hips harder and faster, already feeling that familiar knot start to form.

“Please say you’re close.” You beg, sliding your hand up his form to cup his cheek. He puts his hand over your own and nods, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Lean closer.” He strains out, winding his arms over your back to keep you pressed against his plastron and effectively minimizing the space of your pelvises even more against the vibrator.

You moan right against his mouth, Donnie swallowing it up eagerly as he puts all his energy into making sure you both climax at the same time, fingertips digging nearly hard enough to leave bruises into your skin.

Your whines mix together, increasing in strength and then you both feel that band snap. You pant and huff heavily against each other, your movements becoming sloppy and rough. The toy slips out of position but that doesn’t stop you and Donnie from continuing to ride out your orgasms by humping against each other.

Eventually you both come down from your high, his hand affectionately rubbing up and down your sweaty back. You lift your hips and remove the toy, plopping against Donnie to catch your breath and peppering sweet kisses against his cheek.

“So,” You huff out and lift yourself just enough to look him in the eyes. “What’s next on the experimental list?”

“Well actually I conjured up a wheel to make it more exciting…”

[loveinhawkins]

After the almost end of the world, Steve tells Eddie that he can have a shower first.

It feels surreal that they’ve both made it here—that Eddie is standing in his hallway, leaving mud stains on the floor from his boots: remnants of The Upside Down mixed with normal dirt.

Steve almost wants to ask if he can walk around some more, create countless marks as proof of his existence; hell, even take his hand and run it down the beige walls.

Leave a trail, Steve thinks, through a fog of complete and utter exhaustion. So I know it’s real. So I can find my way back to you.

What he says instead is, “Try not to get your dressings wet.”

Eddie pauses on the stairs. Smiles. “Okay, nurse,” he says, and it’s a gentle tease if anything, his voice softened by tiredness.

He’s holding himself a little stiffly while turned to speak, his upper body almost at an angle.

Steve thinks about the jagged line down his side (“If the bats died, like, ten seconds later, you’d have—you asshole,” Dustin had rambled through tears, thumping Eddie on the arm); how Eddie had narrowly avoided a hospital stay. Thinks of the way Eddie tried to reassure Dustin, fiddling with the guitar pick hanging around his neck in a show of nonchalance—but Steve still saw how his hand shook.

“Guess I’m just a lucky son of a bitch, huh, Henderson?”

It shouldn’t have been luck; it should have been a guarantee. Steve should have ensured it.

Eddie makes his way upstairs with slow, heavy footsteps. Steve waits until he can hear the water running, then heads to the phone.

He’s used to this routine by now. Robin and Nancy first, as he knows they’ll pick up rather than their parents.

“Oh, thank god,” Robin had said when she answered the phone after Starcourt. “I thought it was a horrible dream.”

“Thank god?” Steve echoed, laughing.

“Yeah,” Robin said, quite seriously. “It was either I dreamed up everything alone, or we saw it all together.”

And Steve, touched beyond words, had called her a dingus instead.

Tonight, their phone call is much quieter.

“I’m home,” Robin says. “I love you.”

Steve’s hand clenches around the phone. “Love you too,” he whispers, and he ignores the warning sting in his eyes, because he doesn’t have time to—he still has so much left to…

“I’m home,” Nancy says. She adds, “Get some sleep, Steve,” in the fatigued tones of someone who will not be taking their own advice.

Eddie comes downstairs sometime during Steve’s phone call with Mr and Mrs Sinclair. He’s quiet; the only sign that alerts Steve to his presence is the faint smell of mint body wash.

When Steve hangs up, he has to take a breath, still clinging to the phone pointlessly.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks quietly.

Steve breathes out. “Checking in,” he says.

He dials another number.

It began after Starcourt, the Sinclairs having bought the excuse that Steve had been trapped with Erica in a broken down elevator as the ‘fire’ began—technically true, Steve had thought, just in the wrong order.

Their conversation had been all anxious tones, all, You were there, Steve, what exactly…? Should we be worried that…?

And he gets good at it, at bridging the gap between worlds: keeping the full truth from parents, but giving them just enough information, little things that go beyond the surface level cover story, that somehow help put their mind at ease—cultivating the sense that Steve is the witness, the one being honest with them.

Christ, he’s tired.

The call with Max’s mom is hard. She’s still at the hospital, and technically there’s nothing to really worry about (Max’s arm had a clean break), but that doesn’t change how it all felt, how she shook with pained sobs as Steve tucked her into his side.

“She’s sleeping now. She said you were with her,” Susan tells him, voice low. “Steve, I’m—I’m so grateful.”

But I wasn’t, Steve thinks. Not when it mattered.

He doesn’t realise that he’s still holding the phone after the call has ended until Eddie takes it from him and puts it back in the cradle.

“Hey, can I, uh, use the phone? Wanna call my uncle,” Eddie says.

Steve doesn’t mention the fact that Eddie has already spoken with his uncle, that Steve had overheard him fighting tears in the hospital as he called the plant where his uncle was still working: because even the earthquake-like rumble felt all over town as Henry Creel died wasn’t enough of an excuse to warrant clocking out early.

“Pretend I’m s-someone else calling,” Eddie had whispered, his voice breaking. “Wayne, I-I’m okay. Got stitches, but I’m okay. Fuck. I love you.”

And Steve tried not to think about how it could’ve so easily been him making the call, telling Wayne Munson that his nephew will never come home again.

Eddie pauses, hand hovering over the phone. Then he twirls his index finger in a little circle: turn around.

Steve does. Can’t find the energy to smile.

“Shower,” Eddie says, then taps him very gently on the back, once, twice, like he’s saying off you go.

Steve manages to twist his body so his own fresh bandages don’t get wet, carefully tilting the shower head away from them. He methodically washes away the dirt; the heat of the water is welcome, but it also seems to weigh down his limbs with every drop.

When he goes back downstairs, Eddie is on the phone. He keeps repeating vague little mm-hmm sounds, and Steve somehow is sure that he isn’t on the phone to his uncle.

“Yeah,” Eddie says as Steve approaches. “Yeah, he’s here.”

There’s a little side table next to the phone; Eddie reaches for the notepad, scribbles, then turns it round so Steve can see.

Dustin’s mom

And Steve…

He knows he should talk to her. He knows Claudia will no doubt have questions, even if Dustin’s probably already given his own half-baked explanation about how he hurt his leg—“It’s just a sprain,” he’d insisted, even as Steve hoisted him up, took all of his weight.

The right thing to do, surely, is take the phone from Eddie.

But Steve suddenly can’t bring himself to even lift his hand for it. He feels drained, feels vulnerable and exposed after the shower—that along with the grime being lifted from his skin, it’s also left his stupidly fragile, exhausted heart on show.

Eddie’s eyes flicker over his face like he can see it, see everything, and without so much as an awkward pause, he murmurs into the receiver, “He’s tired. Yeah, he’s—he’s okay. Mm-hmm. Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

He hesitates for a moment, a fleeting sheen to his eyes, and then he says, “Thank you. Goodnight, Mrs Henderson.” Another little pause. He smiles, adds, “Goodnight, Claudia,” and hangs up the phone.

“Is she… okay?” Steve asks. “What did she—is Dustin—”

“All good,” Eddie says. “She was just… checking in.”

The checking you were okay goes unsaid, but Steve can still hear it.

It weighs him down like the shower had done. He doesn’t register that he crosses through to the living room, just knows that he’s suddenly sinking down onto the arm of the couch, that Eddie is sitting next to him.

Steve doesn’t consciously decide to speak, the words tumbling out of him like it’s inevitable.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he mumbles.

He can practically hear Eddie frantically trying to make sense of what he’s said.

“Well, yeah, no plan’s gonna go perfectly, man, that’d be—but, hey, we fuckin’ made it, we—”

But Steve is shaking his head. “No, I… I thought I’d figured it out, I—”

He doesn’t know how to explain it; it’s too much to…

It’s something too big to put into words.

The fact that, as Nancy relayed each phase of the plan, he had listened closely, only agreed because at least he was in the group that would be closest to the ‘blast zone.’

That he’d hated leaving Lucas, Max and Erica alone, but had tried to reassure himself that at least they weren’t in The Upside Down.

That once Dustin knew where Steve was going, he wouldn’t take no for an answer, that he’d follow him to The Upside Down no matter what.

And, honestly, Steve would’ve preferred Eddie not getting dragged into this bullshit for any longer than he needed to be—that if it was feasible, Steve would’ve just told him to take the RV and run.

But Steve had seen how he was with Dustin, roughhousing in the grass. Knew that where Dustin went, Eddie would follow, too—a shield in his hand.

And Steve also knew something along those lines was true for him and Robin: that if he thought he could get away with it, he would’ve told her to watch over the kids at the Creel House, but knew she’d choose to be with him.

That all he could feel about going into Henry Creel’s lair himself was relief—not because he thought he was an essential part in all of this, but because he just…

He needed to be there. Just in case.

Because there was a look in Nancy’s eyes that terrified him. It said that if she had to, she’d die with Henry Creel, so long as it would all be over, so long as Barb would be avenged.

Out loud, all he can say is, “It… it was too close.”

“Steve,” Eddie says. “No-one got—”

“You’re not listening,” Steve says, and there’s a scream in his throat begging to be released; he doesn’t let it go. “It was too—I almost—almost had to—”

“Steve.”

“S-someone’s gotta call home,” Steve goes on. “And I—fuck, I was so scared I’d h-have to—to tell them that—”

“Steve,” Eddie whispers.

“But I-I would’ve,” Steve says. His voice cracks. “I couldn’t have just—they would’ve got a-answers, I would’ve—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly, and he’s got a hand in Steve’s hair suddenly, guiding him to his shoulder. “I know you’d—hey, I’ve got you. I know.”

The first sob, when it starts, hurts—feels like it comes straight from his stomach. Eddie holds him through it, almost like he’s afraid Steve might drift away to some unreachable place.

“I’ve got you,” he keeps saying. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

When it’s over, when Steve gives a final, shuddering breath against Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie murmurs into his hair, “S’too late for any more phone calls, Steve. C’mon. Show me where to sleep?”

It’s not even all that big of a thing, when Steve leads Eddie to his bedroom, lies down on the farthest side of the bed. Leaves deliberate space.

“You don’t have to—there’s a guest room,” Steve says, tongue thick with exhaustion. “Don’t wanna—kinda worried I’ll hit your dressings in my sleep.”

Eddie looks at him from the doorway. “You’ve been patched up too, Steve,” he points out.

Steve shrugs.

Eddie steps into the room. “It’ll be fine,” he says, smiling. “We’ll both be gentle, huh?”

Steve nods through a yawn. When Eddie makes to shut the door, he says, “Don’t, leave it open. Just—just in case the phone… I’ll sleep right through it otherwise.”

Eddie’s still touching the door handle. “D’you trust me?”

Steve’s eyes keep closing against his will. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I trust you.”

Eddie shuts the door so quietly that it barely makes a sound. “Okay. ‘Cause I have, like, freakishly good hearing.” Through his lashes, Steve sees Eddie smirk wryly. “Like a bat.”

Steve thinks he makes a noise of acknowledgement—isn’t quite sure as his eyes have closed.

He feels Eddie lie down next to him, feels the covers being drawn up.

“I’ll hear the phone,” Eddie says. “I’ll answer it, ‘kay? I’ll come wake you up, if I need to.”

A gentle hand on Steve’s forearm.

“Promise,” Eddie says.

Steve breathes in. Out.

“Okay,” he replies, and he falls asleep completely: not needing to stay half-awake, not needing to pick up the phone—not needing to do anything at all.

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Pines Headcanons [Happy Birthday, Grunkles]

I cannot believe I just now got reminded of this- holy shit. Unfortunately, I'm not an artist so have these headcanons instead about Stan and Ford

Stanley ���Lee’ Pines

He’s bisexual. This is not up for debate (/lh). It just made sense for him 

Stanley is ambidextrous. He can write and utilize both his left and right hands. This was something he self-taught himself in after the portal accident 

On the power of ‘I said so’, Stan does have some level of book smarts but instead of math or science- it’s creative writing. He’s got the talent for it; however, he rarely - if ever - shares these stories with anyone

Stan has some form of neurodivergency. Young Stan definitely gives the impression of ADHD but also I feel he’s got dyslexia- don’t ask me why. This is canon now

He does have scars from the time he spent on the run and doing his sales. I’m not sure what they are exactly, but just know he has them 

Stan knows martial arts. Other than boxing, I feel he would’ve taught himself in other forms of fighting- like the ones done on the streets and it’s a weird mix of martial arts and free-style fighting

He can be a bit of a poet, but for the most part- Stan prefers show-and-tell as his love language. He will present his partner with gifts, and makes sure they understand he’s there for them 

He’s kind of protective over his partners, and definitely has gotten into fights in an attempt to protect their honor. It’s ill-placed sometimes but he’s not about to let some bozo mess with them

Stan always sought his father’s approval. He attempted multiple times to perfect his studying skills before the science fair accident, but apparently Old Pa Pines didn’t seem to notice and the rest, well, it was already history

He fantasized of being a pirate when he was a kid. This is where the whole thing of going on a seafaring adventure with Ford came from! Unfortunately due to canon events, this soured out but he held onto a photograph he and Ford took in front of the beach as a memoir

He’s very much not a big fan of vegetables

Stanford ‘Ford’ Pines

He’s arospec and ace!

Ford absolutely loves puzzles. Why? It just weirdly fitting for his character

He definitely has C-PTSD following the events of Weirdmaggedon

Autistic Ford? Autistic Ford. There is no way he doesn’t have it- I said what I said

Before he got involved in the strange and paranormal, one of Ford’s main interests was actually crystals and rocks! It felt weirdly fitting for his character, and here we are

Ford is more of a cat person. At one point, he rescued a cat-adjacent creature from an auction and named her ‘Nova’. Of course, it’s far from a cat but well, we’ll get to that later

He would be into LARP if it exists in the Gravity Falls canon. Like, that man is a nerd and already enjoys the show’s version of Dungeons and Dragons, there’s just no way he wouldn’t participate in LARP

He does have scars from his time in other dimensions for thirty years. He’s very secretive about them and doesn’t let anyone see- not even Stanley

Ford deals with the aftermath of a burnt-out gifted kid- like, he was the prodigal son and got all the right honors, scores, all of it but as he got older- the more he struggled, the more he felt like something was missing. As the golden child, he was brought up with the notion he would be important but then got smacked in the face when he realized none of it truly mattered

He had a lot of issues adjusting to his new life in Gravity Falls, Oregon after he was brought back from the portal. Ford’s triggered fight-or-flight response would kick in with unexpected situations- like, he’s definitely pulled a blaster/space gun

He likes hot chocolate

Ford enjoys cuddle piles, let’s be honest here. Once he gets more comfortable, he begins making nests with the rest of the Pines family

He’s protective of his family!

I’ll try and come up with new headcanons soon, but since I took too long releasing this- given I got sick unfortunately, I decided to post a smaller version 

[sufferingsokkatash]

THAT famous zukka hug in the atla north and south comic : an essay you did not need, by me.

i was thinking about how, in writing, there should be no accidents or coincidences in how and why something is described, or the detail the writer chooses to use. for example, zuko tapping his hand on his desk would be used to show that he is impatient or anxious about something.

so THEN i decided to apply this to the zukka hug, because why not be delulu about these things idk.

first of all, here are the zukka hug pages for context:

disclaimer: i don’t really know how the fandom feels about the comics. personally i like them, so i will proceed with that bias in mind. also please take this with the humour that is intended, it’s more fun that way.

i go down a sabre tooth moose lion hole below the cut.

this whole scene to me is largely what we all love about atla - humour and good characterisation combined with serious subject matter. king kuei and bosco are the comic relief and oblivious party in the face of quite a complicated issue, as zuko himself acknowledges. this humour then extends to kuei offering zuko the chance to join in on his hug with bosco, which zuko politely refuses. obviously, there is the clear issue of zuko being afraid of being eaten by a bear, but we’ll pretend that ernest hemingway is grading our papers here, okay.

it is a very deliberate writing choice and contrast to have zuko refuse hugs from one person/animal and then immediately and happily accept one from sokka. (see also: sokka running excitedly with a big grin on his face at the bottom of page 17 to greet them, naming zuko first, but remembering that he is a good ambassador to the swt and using their proper titles despite his excitement. more silliness mixed with seriousness. see also, also: HE RAAAAAN!) zuko may be touch averse and not a huggy person, but screw that when it’s sokka who’s offering the hug.

remember there are no accidents in good writing. kuei happily says: hello friends! to which, in both that panel and the next, he is clearly ignored. sokka and zuko are so absorbed in hugging each other that sokka neglects his duties in welcoming them both properly. zuko : 2 swt ambassador role: 0. also ignored is the fact that kuei brought his bear, which would normally be subject to some kind of smartass comment from our boomerang boi, even if he knows he’s obsessed with his pet from the ba sing se episodes.

this could be an actual mistake, but sokka ran towards zuko, who was standing in front of kuei. but in the hug panel, sokka is between them. that means kuei walked all the way around them trying to get their attention, and it still didn’t work. sokka, nor zuko, say a further word to kuei. like exactly how much tunnel vision is there in this, my goddddd.

bosco is protecting kuei and sokka is protecting zuko. could be why they mirrored them and their positions in the hug panel, so not a mistake. a swt person says: protecting foreigners, sokka?! but that is exactly what he does by ignoring the protesters and telling zuko not to worry about them. despite wanting to do his duty to everyone sokka puts zuko first, basically, and doesn’t care about what they all think of him. that’s kind of huge for sokka.

yes, hakoda is injured at this time and yes he’s proud of sokka, but surely as chief he would have gone to meet the earth king and firelord? why did the writers go to so much effort making sure that sokka was there to meet zuko and have them hugging take up a third of an entire page when printing and space in the comics is such a consideration? it is clearly important, y’all.

their faces when they see each other. sokka can’t stop grinning and zuko closes his eyes in relief he’s so happy. enough said.

sokka says: thanks so much for coming! like he doesn’t already know zuko would travel the world just to make him happy or help in what’s important to him. have you forgotten boiling rock, sokka? because that dude you’re wrapped around, acting like he’s been starved of you, sure hasn’t.

this comic is all about nations coming together and traditions being upheld and shared. in other words, marry him sokka. it is in your diplomatic interests to do so.

in utterly insane conclusion:

i am always surprised at how much they made the effort in the writing for this one scene. i don’t see the comics as something that tease ships, they aren’t natla. what i do see is two guys who clearly care about each other, almost to the detriment of their roles and responsibilities, and their relationship was worth the effort taken in the writing and artwork to show that. it is super heckin sweet. does this mean i think zukka is canon or could be? no. maybe did i have fun pretending and overanalyzing every detail? yes.

ps in all seriousness, the answer is that this is about my fav boy and how far he has come in his character growth journey - exhibit a from ‘the avatar returns’ episode:

the end, i am getting blocked and going to jail but it’s okay because zukka is my bosco hug.