#also my bubbles aren't alive

[jojo-schmo]

EXPLODES WITH HAPPINESS!!!!! I am shouting for joy from every rooftop in town!!!

YOUR ART IS SO BEAUTIFUL!!?!?! And you drew me!!!! Oh my gosh oh my gosh you have such a special and unique art style with the loveliest hatching and shading and confident looking lineart! And your bubble stickers are perfect!! haha I need to get some of my own!!

It's very nice to meet Theia, too! I'm so happy it could help a little bit. I'm incredibly touched by this, I can't even fully express how much I love it.

Thank you, THANK YOU!!! <3 <3

If you see any bubbles with candy in them floating by, take them! It’s a Halloween treat from me to you! :D

And if you found one, lemme know!! It’d be nice to know where my bubbles ended up :3

[astralis-ortus]

guess i missed you too much

✱ boyfriend!bc x fem!reader

— that's what being in love does to you.

w.count → 1.2k genre → fluff warning → reader referred to as baby and my love, 2 (two) chatroom screenshots a.n → based on this request! ngl i was like '!!!' as soon as i read the request bc i can just imagine how it would go i'm—ㅠㅠㅠ also, i have an announcement here about requests, commissions, and fanart shop—i would really appreciate it if you'd check it and help a girl out♡ ⋆ if you're enjoying my stories, do send me a ko-fi ⋆ see masterlist

to put it simply, chan is dumbfounded.

he's pretty sure he had mentioned to both han and changbin that you're coming here, to seoul, in a exactly week and chan needs to have all the urgent project revisions to be done prior to your arrival. he's absolutely sure the two promised they will only be gone for a little while to get some coffee to wake them up, and chan is now certain that the two are definitely not only heading out to grab those goddamn coffee.

"if you two aren't back here in 5, just know this is your one and only warning," chan muttered through gritted teeth, trying his best not to sound too pissed before sending the voicenote in their '3racha only' groupchat.

it's not that chan didn't understand—he knows he's been pushing both changbin and han more than he usually does, and chan is very much aware that the duo are bound to be a bit more rebellious than usual once they reach their point of exhaustion, but he really is looking forward to the time he's about to spend with you, and he's not about to let anything come and ruin that.

it's been a while since you've last spent a considerable amount of time together with chan. sure, there are stolen dates here and there whenever a holiday would match up and you could take some time off to visit chan's version of paradise (which is unironically everywhere within the bounds of japan) together, but those visits always ends as quickly as it starts and left the two of you with a longer list of regrets by the time you had to let your hands slip away from chan' warmth.

so this time, when you finally were able put your responsibilities on rest for two whole weeks, it didn't take much of a convincing for either you or chan to finalize the dates when you would finally be able to be within each other's reach. chan even went the extra mile to immediately book your flight coming in, though you had to basically threaten him with no video calls for a week if he went through with his other plans to spoil you rotten.

well, you could only hope that chan won't pull any uno reverse card on you once this plan came to an end.

a bell sound from his phone quickly distracts chan from the lines of lyrics he's trying to edit—an action he came to regret when the notification in view were merely a singular line of emojis sent by changbin, consisting of the same teasing faces and a pink ribbon both changbin and han been sending chan for days now on end.

"oh, he's done," chan groaned, head tilted back in annoyance as he threw his poor beanie back at the sofa where changbin was supposed to be seated right now. to be frank, chan didn't understand what changbin has been implying with the string of emojis at all. presumably changbin and han had seen the way chan saved your kakao talk profile—hence the pink ribbon, but why now? exactly when chan's the most sensitive of the topic? the fact that chan couldn't contact you drives him even crazier—you had told him you haven't been feeling well and you'd text him again once you feel better, but that was like, what, an eternity ago? chan didn't want the risk of waking you up either especially with your trip coming up, so…

he's basically helpless.

another set of annoyed groan became chan's initial response when his phone came alive with a new notification. reluctantly grabbing the device, chan was mentally prepared for a text bubble sent by the youngest of the three, containing of the same string of emojis changbin had just sent—only for his heart to jump out of his chest when he saw the pink ribbon next to your name.

before chan could type another reply, his attention were robbed by the knocks on his studio door—which is a little weird considering neither han or changbin would bother, and the fact that it's nearly midnight meant that almost no one that chan knows of should be looking for him around this time of night.

"manager hyung?" chan cautiously called out, instinctively grabbing his discarded beanie before he went to reach for the door. "did you leave something? or are you—"

the words on chan's tongue dissipates soon after the door swung open—but even with the way his eyes just doubled in size, chan still couldn't believe what he's currently seeing right in front of him now.

"hi, my channie," you finally spoke, a wide grin decorating your lightly flushed face from all the adrenaline you've been feeling; and only then, chan seems to wake up from his trance.

"wha—baby?" chan could hear how voice had skipped an octave higher, but he couldn't care less—did he fell asleep? is this a dream? chan had to pinch himself before he even pulled you in his arms, tightly wrapping the giggling mess that you are in his warmth. "you're actually here? wasn't your flight next week? did i got the dates wrong? how—"

"whoa whoa, calm down there, racer," you quickly stopped your boyfriend's wild train of questions, still with your smile plastered across the span of your face—your plan is a massive success.

"it was supposed to be next week," you confirmed, eyes still taking in chan's perplexed face while your brain etched the memory in its hall of fame, "but i miss my boyfriend too much to wait another week, so… i asked for bin and jisung's help to change my plane ticket!"

suddenly, everything that's been happening to chan in the past week just clicked—the time he caught changbin and han meddling with his laptop, the nervous chuckles, the way they become way to secretive with their phones, the phone calls, and those lines of goddamn emojis. it all finally makes sense.

"is that so?" chan shook his head despite the clear view of his dimpled smile, arms tightening around your waist, "so you three little naughty being has been cooking up plans behind my back, that's what you're saying?"

the sound of your sweet laugh fills chan with an overwhelming sense of warmth— you might spend the majority of your year apart from each other, but for chan, it's moment like this that makes all the dark nights of longing seem worth to be worth his patience.

after all, you're everthing chan ever wanted in his life.

"my my," clicking his tongue in faux disappointment, chan gently fixed the strands of hair falling over your eyes—ones ever so tender whenever you fixed your gaze on him, "what am i gonna do with you, hm? you naughty little baby?"

"not sure," you cheekily replied, lightly scrunching your nose the way chan usually does. you're just happy that you're finally in chan's arms again, to hell with any of the 'repercussions' chan might be building in his head for your little misdemeanor.

"but can you kiss me first?" you continued, trying your best to stay nonchalant despite the sudden spike of your heartbeat due to your own silly attempt at being witty and chan's surprised laugh, "i think i need my boyfriend's kiss so i could face my punishments later."

frankly, chan's head is still plagued with tons after tons of questions of your little successful stunt—he can't help it, you're someone he love and cares about after all,

but who is he to deny your sweet little plea?

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[comicaurora]

I'm not a writer whatsoever and am currently listening to the OSPod Publishing special, and was really intruiged by your description of your character-driven stories as being similar to a DnD campaign. Could you please elaborate a bit on what you mean by "it's good when the characters surprise you"? It's likely an obvious writer thing, but I would've thought that an author wouldn't be surprised by where their story or characters go since, well, they're the one writing it. Regardless the comic is amazing so however confusing your process may be to me personally it's clearly effective

It's a little bit difficult to explain!

A lot of the writing process is just sitting down and writing it - laying out the setpieces, describing what the characters do, writing and tweaking the dialogue for impact. But in my experience, the vast majority of the REAL writing process happens internally, and large chunks of it are out of conscious reach of the writer. This unreachable space is where new ideas form, and why no writer has ever been able to answer the question "where do you get your ideas from?"

This is why a writer can beat their head against writers block for weeks at a time, then wake up one day with a solution and the entire next chunk of storyline fully formed. My dad calls this phenomenon "the better writer in the back of your head." A lot of the creative process doesn't happen in the front of your mind, where your ego and your inner voice live. Most of it is deeper down. This is how your mind is capable of surprising you in any context, including dreams or unexpected emotional reactions - your mind is a lot larger than just the parts you can consciously feel.

When I put a character in a situation, I can make a conscious decision for what they'll do and then execute it, but I can also listen for ideas bubbling out of that inaccessible region of my mind. Most character ideas start out as a small set of conscious decisions on the part of the writer - "I'll make him a classical hero with a strong sense of justice" or "she'll be a strong but weary leader putting on a brave face" or "I'm playing an edgy rogue with a dark past" etc etc, quick and basic elevator pitches. But the characters come alive when they're allowed to grow down into the inaccessible parts of the mind, where consciousness gives way to emotions bubbling up from even deeper processes. Once the characters are allowed to start feeling things about their story - like "maybe that classical hero doesn't actually feel great about the lord they serve" or "the weary leader has an endless wellspring of vengeful rage to keep her going when she falters," more creative ideas for their next move start bubbling up. Things that don't flow logically from their elevator pitch, but make sense for the character that grows out of that pitch as they're allowed to engage with the world and story around them.

The way I build characters puts a focus on how they're feeling in any given situation, which is completely separate from what I, the writer of the plot, need them to do to move the plot in the direction I was planning. So sometimes I'll be writing something, and a little bubble of inspiration will pop up and let me know that, unexpectedly, this situation is really getting to one of the characters. And I can choose to keep them on track, or I can let their internal compass take over and see what makes the most sense to them at that moment of the story.

Characters are not real people, and they aren't as large or complex as a human mind, but in my experience, if you build a character solidly enough and give yourself room to play, they will grow down into your subconscious wellspring of creativity, and your mind will volunteer ideas to you using their voice. You don't need to use them, but it's very useful to cultivate them, because sometimes those ideas are better than anything you could consciously stick together in the public-spacing front of your mind.

[orion-archives]

Dear Americans and people outside Mexico: Please stop.

I have seen many posts of people outside Mexico saying: Congrats, Mexico! Claudia, a leftist feminist ambientalist jewish woman, is president! Take notes US!

Meanwhile, you go out in the streets in Mexico today and no one is celebrating. No one. The streets are empty, everything feels sad and hopeless.

A lot of people didn't want her. Because we know what is going to happen.

Morena (her political group) is literally in every position of power. From senators, to city governors. They have EVERY SINGLE thing in the goverment.

You know how bad things are gonna get for us here? Do you know what she has allowed? What THEY have done to our country? All the shit we have been through because of them?

No, because you don't care. You haven't cared enough to research who this woman is really and just praise her without knowing a shit.

Because you have to make everything about you, don't you?.

"I can't believe Mexico has a woman president before US!"

"OMG, US take notes!"

"The US-"

Can you stop for a second and think outside of your bubble? Do you truly know who this woman is and what she has done to Mexico? Or you are just using this to talk about you and your own country and problems?

Please. Please do your research.

She is not your precious feminist ally.

She has denied multiple times the ongoing wave of violence against women in Mexico (11 women go missing A DAY). She has sent riot police to gas feminist protests.

Did you hear what I said?

11 WOMEN GO MISSING A DAY.

EVERY DAY 11 WOMEN NEVER COME BACK, ARE KILLED, ARE RAPED, ARE TORTURED, ARE GETTING FORGOTTEN WITHOUT LEAVING A TRACE. EVERYDAY.

And she denies this. She has denied MULTIPLE TIMES that the violence against women is at an all time high.

A feminist would denied that 11 mothers/sisters/daughters/aunts/girls/women/people are going missing PER DAY?

No. Because she doesn't fucking care.

She is no ambientalist.

She was more than happy to support the Tren Maya, a project AMLO, the former president, was hooked on making since the begining.

The issue?

DEFORESTATION. MASSIVE DEFORESTATION.

10 MILLION TREES HAVE BEEN CUT DOWN.

Entire natural spaces gone for a train that isn't even working and already is having problems.

Also, how can I forget this?

27 people died, 80 injured.

The line 12 (Linea 12) of the CDMX Metro collapsed. The structure and the entire transport had (and still are) been neglected by the city administration.

Guess who was in charge of CDMX at the time of the tragedy?

Exactly, Claudia Sheinbaum. What was she doing instead of sending resources and money to fix and mantain the Metro?

But political propaganda for herself, of course!

And even after that tragedy, there have been multiple issues and accidents in the metro. A fucking coworker of a family member was trapped in a wagon alongside multiple people for HOURS due to a malfuction of the metro. They weren't allowed to get out even if they were cooking alive due to the heat of being inside a closed wagon and police ordered them TO NOT FILM what was happening to them.

She is not a saint. She is not an icon. She is not someone you should praise.

FUCKING INFORM YOURSELF BEFORE TALKING.

Mexico is not USA. Get it? We don't have the same politics and issues you have, get that?

The entire world doesn't revolve around you. We aren't your argument to use, we aren't your little meme to fuck around with.

We are people that are tired. People that didn't want this. People that are upset, dissapointed, mad, hopeless.

My blog isn't a political place, so as a final note, I want to say this:

I want to be wrong. I really, really want to be fucking wrong.

I want my country, Mexico, to be ok. To be a better place to live.

I HOPE to be wrong and that things get better. For me, for my family, for my friends, for the millions of people that stay, study, work, breathe, live and love this country.

Claudia Sheinbaum, I really want to be wrong about you. Not because I love you, but because I love Mexico.

I don't have high hopes for the future, but I really, REALLY, want things to be better.

That's all I have to say for now.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Touch-Starved (canon)

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otherwise known as; the part where The Puppetmaster finds out he has THE FEELINGS(™, patent pending) for the Combat Harlequin. lmfao

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"Almost..." His hand trembled at the last piece required. He carefully slotted the optics in place, and twisted the eye multiple times to stick it in place. Within moments, he steps back, and Bubble flared up alive again, checking out his new, updated vision. “Wow! I can see more colors now!” The Blimp spun in place.

“Those new eyes should allow you to broadcast anything you see to me, if I so wished.” He explains, pulling out a small, thin black screen from one of the the desk’s many compartment. He switches it on, and Bubble’s eyes suddenly have a tiny red dot blinking in the middle of it.

So far, so good. The device was working as intended and he could see the top of his dentures from Bubble’s perspective, making Caine grin proudly.

“You may proceed to do your chores once more, the upgrades are done.” He sends the blimp to his merry way, and Bubble only nods before turning away to make his way out of the office. He leans back with a content sigh and closed eyes, satisfied with the work done for the day.

At that very moment, Pomni also opens the door.

She looked… disheveled, to say the least.

“Oh hey Pomni!” The butler blimp greeted with his usual reply. The Harlequin only sent him a look of acknowledgement, knowing that it’s useless to try to spark up a conversation, as Bubble was already making his way out.

Caine blinked once, and then he blinked twice just to make sure he’s seeing things right.

Was she always this… dazzling? Literally? He could see sparkles forming everywhere.

She flipped her hair in a messy attempt to get rid of the strands currently stuck to the skin of her nape. Her trademark golden ponytail missing, most likely a B.O.S.S.’s doing. She made her way to Caine’s desk and he swears he could feel his heart beat faster and faster with each step she took. The Harlequin’s trademark squinted brows with half-lidded eyes meeting his own wide stare, a gaze that would typically make any person with a still-functioning sanity cower in fear.

She took a seat on his desk with her legs crossed and her back turned against him and leaning on her right arm, as she usually did.

“Here’s the die you asked for. Took me a bit, but still got the job done.” She checked her left arm for damages after she placed the multi-colored puppet heart in front of him, while she flashed her teeth with a victorious, smug smile. His words are caught in his throat and her entirety shines too brightly for him. He couldn’t understand it.

Why… did she seem like a flame, and he felt like an unsuspecting moth, drawn to her light?

He shook his head clear and forced his stare away from her direction, clearing his throat while clutching the die. “I-I see, thank you, Pomni. You-you’ve done… a… wonderful…” Her hand grasped his own and his heart leapt at his own throat. Her synthetic, calloused fingers felt so rough, yet so gentle against his own gloved ones that he considered taking them off.

“...j-job.” His breath hitched as he struggled to finish the end of his sentence, unable to tear his attention away from her eyes. He found himself gawking at her intense, golden eye matched with blue and red pinwheel ones.

“Aren't you forgetting something, Puppetmaster?” Her expression questioning, yet with a slight and subtle undertone of mischief glinted at her optics. 

He couldn’t speak. He struggled to form coherent words. It felt like he was being strangled by an unknown force clutching at his neck, yet there was clearly no malice behind it. 

“Wh… What am I forgetting…?” He asked in such a feeble tone that made her chuckle in such a low rumbling tone, snaring his full attention.

“Well, I think that I deserve a reward for my services. Don’t you think?” She stands up. Warm hands suddenly felt so cold and empty, and already he missed the warmth present just about a second ago. The Harlequin made her way towards him as he spun his chair to meet her halfway. Hand at her hips as she towered over his sitting form. He’s all of a sudden clutching at the armrest so intensely.

“Y-yes, of course! H-how could I forget!” He nervously chuckles, he would pull on his collar right about now. “What is it you wish to be rewarded with?”

He offers her his best smile, and she giggles as she shakes her head. Without any warning, she took a seat on his lap, and he went frozen. As if making one single move would shatter the very fabric of the universe. She leaned her head to his shoulder, fiddling with the collar of his shirt then her fingers trailed onto the underside of his chin to make him look at her. He shivered from the contact.

“You.”

He trembled as his face warmed up to uncontrollable degrees, and produced visible heat waves. Not even his self-installed coolants were helping him tone down the sudden rise in his body temperature in the slightest. He couldn’t control his shakes, making the Harlequin smirk, knowing that she had the Puppetmaster all wrapped around her finger.

He didn’t know what came over him, because now his own hands were making their way onto her thighs to pull her closer to him entirely, the other shakingly placing itself onto her shoulders and he could feel the way she sighs contentedly against his touch. He exhales a shaky breath himself, attempting to steel himself.

“M-my dear, a-are you positive that… that is what you’d like?”

It was better to be safe than sorry. She sits up straight, and for the first time, he regrets ever asking that question in the first place.

“Actually…” Her voice trails off playfully, while she stands up. “... Maybe I’d like something more.”

It only took her a finger underneath his chin to pull him as she leads him to a nearby wall. As if his own body had a mind of it’s own, he pins her in place with both arms adjacent to her head. His face leans in closer and closer to her with eyes closed, and she’s leaning up close to him, fully ready to accept his advances.

Pomni’s soft lips met his teeth, and Caine could smell the faint traces of grass and sweat rolling down from her synthetic skin, evident of her hardships from the recent battle. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his loops around her waist to pull her closer, while the other cups at her face intensely. He savored her mouth as their breathing became heavy and fast-paced, only breaking apart for a mere second, gasping for air before delving back in to their desires.

Desire…

Quite the accurate depiction of how Caine truly felt for the Harlequin at this moment. He couldn’t quite decipher when this had started, though.

As if her intentions were to pry him away from his overbearing and unnecessary thoughts, Pomni pushed him away to pin him to the wall this time, continuing the liplock. He grunts from the impact, but gladly returns her enthusiasm with fervor as he loops his arm around her back, pulling her flush to him once more. Her hands made their way to the lower sides of his jaw to caress so gently, and he finds himself melting at every contact their touches made.

Without breaking the teeth-on-lip-lock, he steered their bodies onto the direction of his desk, leaving the Harlequin laying on it as he loomed over her, ravaging her mouth once more like the touch-starved man he was. He adjusted her thighs just enough to make room for him without making the position uncomfortable for the both of them, their heated make out session felt like it could go on forever as he gripped her waist tightly.

It felt like if he let her go, she would disappear all of a sudden. And he didn’t want that.

He made sure to not lean too much of his body weight onto her by propping himself up with his elbows, both hands find themselves cupping her face to keep her in place as her hands trailed all the way up from the lower arms to his shoulders to do the same to him. He broke the kiss to gasp for air, a string of saliva being the clear proof of their heated action, but quickly delved back into the riveting sensations of their activity. 

Her touch against him were like magic; every contact sent shivers and jolts down his spine as she switched from holding his shoulders to holding his chest just above where a collarbone would traditionally be, pushing him away to let herself up. For a nanosecond he thought that maybe he went a little too far with his advances, until she disproved his theory by shoving him to one of the nearby long couches, only a pillow to cushion and soften his landing onto the furniture.

Quickly making up for lost time and contact, she quickly crawls to straddle his waist, clutching the back of his head to make him look at her, and her only. His hand found itself gripping at the back of her waist tightly once more, the other clutching her own head just to make sure she’s still there with him. Both were panting heavily, the room temperature very much heated as a result of their affairs.

His eyes looked at her longingly as he breathed heavily. “Pomni… I… I don’t think I want this to end.”

She flashed him a consoling smile.

The alarm rings, deafening the surroundings as he jolts awake, falling from his chair comically with a loud, slightly high-pitched scream emitting from his throat. He groans from the headache he had received from the impact to the ground, clutching at the top sides of his jaw, as he leans his head onto the desk for support.

His false heart was beating faster than when one would run; His face was flushed and he frustratingly ignores the heat from the rest of his body with a grumble.

He shifts his eyes to look around. Nothing’s changed. Everything was the same since Bubble left to do his daily chores.

He shakes his head and slams his face down onto the elegant desk, groaning depressingly and half-sobbing.

What the fuck? Was… WAS IT ALL JUST A DAMN DREAM!?

Oh, he could scream and cry into a pillow right about now. But the panicked angry screaming of a certain someone being bothered by the recent addition; the Ragdoll Mannequin that was “Ragatha”, suddenly grabs his attention. Now, he’s looking outside into the manor grounds from his office’s windows with a tired and questioning gaze.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

“But Mistress! You still haven’t tried out my trademark cookie recipe!! It’s GUARANTEED to be your instant favorite!”

“STOP CALLING ME MISTRESS! FOR THE LAST TIME, I DON’T CARE, GET THE FUCK AWAY-”

Caine sighed disappointingly to himself, dragging his hand across his eyes.

God fucking dammit. He actually feels something for her.

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I would say I'm sorry, but we all know I'm not. :)

[pantherxrogers]

A Long Night - Mike Schmidt x Reader (18+ ONLY)

Content warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY), oral (m receiving), dom/sub elements, degradation, explicit language, p*rn w/o plot, established relationship

A/N: Love this movie and love this man fr 😪 No one asked for this, but he's sexy so I had to write it 🫦 This is a little more intense than what I usually write, so read trigger warnings plz!

Summary: Mike gets home from work. The reader sucks him off. That's literally it, but it's hot! (Also, we're pretending that Mike & Abby have a much better relationship with Aunt Jane and that she's still alive 😀).

You've got him by the balls. Literally.

Mike is all you can see, hear, and feel. His head rests against the back of your couch, eyes squeezed together in pleasure. It takes all of your concentration to keep sucking his dick and not get lost in his pretty face.

"Fuuuuuuuck..." Mike mumbles out, his hips bucking into the warmth of your mouth. You use one hand to cup his balls, feeling them tighten when you gag around him. You take in the way his body reacts, a shiver overtaking him. 

"Does that feel good, baby?" Your voice is slightly hoarse when you pull off of him. Shifting on the pillow below, you've been on your knees for him since he got home. He lifts his head, peering down at you. 

You squeeze your thighs together, needing some sort of pressure on your clit. His dark brown eyes sweep over your frame, slightly hooded from the pleasure you've given him. He's still wearing his vest, with tousled hair and an unshaven beard. His veiny hands grip your couch cushions, needing something to ground himself.

"I asked you a question, baby" You tease, using one hand to stroke his cock, your saliva acting as a lube. His dick stands proudly, thick and hard in your soft palm. 

"Shit-, yes, feels fuckin' amazing," he pants, hips bucking, pre cum bubbling from the angry red tip. You can barely fit your hand around him, wetness seeping out of your pussy, imagining his veiny cock inside of you. 

You lock eyes with him, leaning down to place soft kisses around the tip. He groans out, the sound adding to your arousal. Gathering spit in your mouth, you hold his gaze, before letting the saliva drip out onto his dick.

"Fuck, such a dirty girl," he groans, bucking his hips up into nothing. You smirk at his desperation, loving the way he's falling apart in front of you. 

"C'mon baby, wanna feel your lips back on my dick," he whines, before you put him out of his misery. 

He lets out a guttural moan when you take him back into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. You're lost in the taste and feel of having him in your mouth.  

Your eyes water slightly, taking more of his cock in your mouth until you feel it hit the back of your throat. He lets out a steady stream of moans, littered with profanities. You breathe through your nostrils, looking up at him while you massage his sensitive balls. 

"You're so fuckin' sexy," he murmurs, bringing up a hand to cradle the back of your head. You love the feeling, relishing in the control he has over you. Relaxing your throat, he fucks your mouth, gently gripping your head with both hands.

"Look at you, on your knees before I can even take a shower," he punctuates the words with sharp thrusts, making you gag around him. Warmth spreads over your body, loving the way he talks to you.

"Such a fuckin' slut, aren't you?" he mocks, a smirk taking over his face. Your eyes light up at the words, loving when he gets like this. So close to the edge and just a little mean with you.

You do your best to nod your head, humming in agreement. The vibrations cause his dick to stir, pushing him closer to the edge.

"Fuck, 'm gonna cum," he huffs, locking your head into place while he sloppily thrusts into your warmth. 

You babble around him, helping him chase his orgasm. He's lost in pleasure, jaw slightly agape. You're grinding down onto the pillow below, unable to control yourself. 

"Fuckin' take it," he groans, more wetness pooling into your panties. "'M gonna cum in your mouth, then fuck that tight pussy," he mutters, your low moan adding to his pleasure. 

The vibrations cause hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat, salty and thick. You lift your head slightly, trying to relax your throat against the steady stream. 

"Shiiiiiiiit," Mike huffs out, arms slumping to his sides. You stare up at him in awe, sliding off of his cock. 

He looks down at you, raising an eyebrow. You feel your cheeks burn, sticking your clean tongue. His answering smirk makes your pussy throb.

"Such a good girl," he mumbles, reaching down to shove his cock back into his pants before he helps you up. You settle into his side on the worn couch, nestling into his warmth, pressing kisses along his neck. 

He turns his head to capture your soft lips, forcing his tongue into your mouth. His rough vest brushes against your sensitive nipples, your skimpy pajama top doing little to act as a barrier. The way his tongue invades your mouth makes your head swim. 

Peppering kisses down your throat, his strong hand reaches across to knead your ass through your pants. Goosebumps follow everywhere he touches, your heart still beating out of your chest. He starts to slip his hands into your pants, before a knock sounds at the door.

"Damn it," he groans, the disappointment in his voice making you giggle. 

"Open the door!" You both bristle at the sound of his aunt's voice, likely bringing Abby home for the night. The thought of the sweet girl makes you smile, untangling yourself from your boyfriend.

"C'mon, Mike, answer the door," you tell him, almost laughing at the disappointed look on his face. 

"Babe, c'mon, we'll finish later," you giggle, as he untangles himself with a scowl on his face. He presses a firm kiss on your lips before he stands. 

Your heart thuds when he bends down, hovering over you, both arms trapping you in your spot on the couch. 

"Say hi to Abby, and then go wait in my room until I get there," he commands.

You squirm, subtly grinding your clit against your heel, before nodding. He chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your lips before heading to the door. 

It's going to be a long night. 

[deathbxnny]

So we know that Boothill had a daughter but what is he had a S/O that also was killed but their consciousness was put into a robotic body(?) and they work for the IPC. Not having any memory of what the IPC did to their family and they meet Boothill again after a long time. Maybe they didn’t even recognize Boothill. Just angst.

ʕ •̀ ω •́ ʔ congratulations on 1000!!!

Oooh, I really love this request, Anon!! I've been craving something angsty and tragic, so I hope you'll like this and thank you for the request!!<33

Content: Reader is similar to the Androids from "Detroit: Become human", spoilers to Boothills past!!, past romantic relationship, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, swearing, reader kind of is hinted to have a southern sounding accent, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

"You promised your next life to me." (Boothill x Gn!Reader)

"That was close-" "-Too close! I told ya not to shut the gates too hard! The damned hens nearly got us killed when they woke up!" A young Boothill hissed to you, although there was no malice in his voice, only a playful tune of amusement. You grinned, biting into one of the apples you had stolen. "But we're alive right now, aren't we?"

The sun was slowly peeking out from beyond the mountains, painting the skies above you in soft blues, pinks, and oranges. You leaned against the tree you were both hiding in, trying your best not to fall out of it or make too much noise, lest the swearing and enraged farmer nearby heard you. It was just supposed to be a little early morning fun, in which you both hopped your neighbors fence to get some of his freshly harvested apples.

Some may call it stealing, but you often liked to call it "borrowing". Served the old man right anyway. He always sold them for too high of a price at the market!

"God damn you, brats! Once I get my hands on you, you'll never think of crossing my damned fields again!" The farmer yelled, loading his shot gun, before he seemed to trip over the pots you had accidentally run into on your way to the tree. Both of you snorted at the cursing intensifying, your hands pressing against your mouths to weakly muffle the laughs that threaten to bubble out of you.

A door creaked open in the distance, the disgruntled old wife hobbling out in annoyance. "RANDY! WHAT ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH ARE YOU DOIN'? IT'S NEARLY 5 AM!" She yelled, the farmer quick to scramble up and pull on his hat with a gulp. "Those damned kids are back!-" "-I don't care! Get your ass back in here, or so may the Aeons help me!" The man only reluctantly did as told, trudging back inside in sizzling rage, yet decided that for today, the little rats could escape him just one more time again. He'll get them next time.

You two waited for a while after the door slammed shut before you finally let out a relieved giggle. "That's what he gets! Old man Mr. Roger had it, comin'!" You slid down the tree, skillfully landing on your feet, before you ran towards the cornfield you came from. "Let's get back to the horses!" You called out behind you, making the young boy follow after you quickly, albeit slower due to being the one carrying most of your "borrowed" goods. You had always been the braver one. The one with the most energy and the most strength to do things. He looked up to you in moments like these, nearly admiring you when you jumped over the fence with no difficulty. He struggled alot more than you did before he too finally reached your horses on the otherside.

"That was really fun..." Boothill trailed off as he helped you load up your half of the apples onto your mare, that was attempting to take one for herself. You hummed in agreement, thanking him right after whilst he helped you onto your saddle. "It's always fun when you're with me." You commented with a shrug, not understanding the weight of your kind words that made his heart beat faster. You rode next to eachother in silence for a while, your eyes glued on the sunset before you, and yet the boy found you more interesting to look at. He bit his lip nervously when the sun hit your eyes just right, making them glow.

"I'm gonna hit the bed the second I'm home... but we'll meet later today again, okay? See ya!" It wasn't a request in Boothills' mind. No, it was simply a natural demand, a requirement to be there, to see you. He watched you ride on the opposite path back to your home, wondering when he too could be braver than you and spill the words that were on his mind for his best friend.

--

That was one of the only memories of Boothills childhood with you that he could remember anymore now. It was odd to think that you two were once nothing more than little troublemakers ridding through the early morning hours together. Only years later however, you'd see eachother every day through marriage.

Your home was a small cottage near the oceanside, miles of fields and meadows surrounding it, in the distance, unexplored forests and mountains. It was your idea to move there as it was still close to his family, and he couldn't have been more grateful. Especially with the small bundle of joy he one day found whilst he was out checking on the cattle during a strong thunderstorm. You were resting at home that night, your fingers moving quickly as they crocheted a blanket you had been working on for a while, ears strained to listen to the music over the static that played through the radio. The fireplace was warm, eyes beginning to drop shut from the exhaustion of a busy day on the farm, when suddenly the front door creaked open and in came your husband, soaked to the bone.

You sat up, watching carefully as he set down his dripping hat and pulled off his boots with one hand clumsily, the other tightly wrapped around something you couldn't see from the dimness of the room. "Come here, honey. Look what a sweet little thing I've found out there." He chuckled gently, holding out the wrapped bundle to you, whilst he pulled away some of the cloth to show the face of a small, sleeping infant. You gasped in surprise, eyes widening, as you were quick to take her out of the wet cloths and wrap her into your own warm arms. "Oh she really is so little!" You whispered in awe, and Boothill could see the love you had for what would soon become your adoptive daughter from the start.

She was your everything ever since that fateful night, you two lovingly calling her "Lavender" after the fields her father had found her in. She was a lively, easy child, so loving and sweet, that your heart couldn't help but be filled with her the moment you met her. Boothill found alot of purpose in raising her with you, often times taking her on horse rides around the land he owned, or taking her out to fish, whilst you taught her how to garden and crochet things herself.

You and Lavender were his sweethearts, his everything. All that Boothill lived for... until eventually, you weren't.

--

The day came in which the devil's from above, also calling themselves members of the "IPC" came down to slaughter you all senselessly. No one survived, no one but Boothill. Your daughter was dead instantly, her small daughter hidden under the heavy rubble, never having stood a chance against the bombs.

He could never forget the relief he felt when he found you, even if it was short-lived. You were fatally injured, breath labored and short, as you tried to hold on for just a moment longer. His arms wrapped around you, tears in eyes when he saw the fear for the first time in yours. No amount of bravery could save you now. "(Y/N)... you... please, you can't die." He chocked out, unable to comprehend the agony he was in. Yet you couldn't hear him over the ringing in your ears, your hand reaching up to grasp his shirt tightly with all the strength you had left. "I'll... I'll find you. I swear I will. In my next life. I promise... I..." Your arm dropped, the fear relaxing into nothing, as your breathing came to an end, the only thing left being the crackling of flames around you.

.....

....

..

"Mr. Boothill? Are you... alright?" Dan Heng awkwardly nudged the now Cyborg man, his head tilting in confusion. Aventurine raised a brow, his arms crossing as his gaze met your rather unamused one in thought. "My... he only seemed to malfunction once you arrived, (Y/N)!" He grinned teasingly, making you roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Can we please continue? You claimed we didn't have any time to waste." The blonde raised his arms in faux surrender, knowing he shouldn't bother you any more than summoning you here has.

A high-profile IPC android like you surely had better things to do after all than to deal with a failing country, but here you were.

Boothill, meanwhile, blinked a couple of times, his head hurting and throbbing in agonizing pain. Just how was this possible? Just how were you alive?

Why did you not recognize him?

"... I... sorry, they look really familiar." He said, trying to compose himself when you gave him a sharp, uninterested look. Your eyes always held so much kindness for everyone. How could you forget even that? Pulling down his hat to cover his eyes, he sighed and shook his head. He supposed both of you had changed beyond recognition in one way or another.

"Anyways... let's get goin'... that nice, wing-headed Mister ain't gonna go down on his own..." He continued, trailing off for a moment, before he simply turned and left to fulfill his part of the plan. He heard you scoff lightly, obviously unamused by whatever seemed to have angered you so much before coming here.

His soul ached for you in ways he couldn't ever utter out loud again. And whilst you did keep your promise of seeing him again, this is not the life or the way he had preferred.

At least you weren't a liar, he supposed bitterly with a cold chuckle.

Alrightyy... I finally found the time to write this, and I'm unsure how I like it... BUT it's done, and I hope it was okay for you, Anon!! Thank you again for the request!!<33

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

women in horror

wanted a sapphicnatural anthem so i wrote one <3

this is dedicated to all the women of supernatural, and especially to the people in the fandom who bring them back to life to give them their sapphic happy endings. happy @sapphicnaturalrights sapphicnatural week !!! i tried to hit as many of the prompts as possible in one go <3

lyrics under the cut!

VERSE home alone late at night cold open in the dark light bubble bath, spilling red wine her scream cues the title card

guest appearance, aren't you lucky exposition, keep it clunky mystery isn't the only thing she makes hard

PRE-CHORUS tiny top, thick makeup white and lacy linen lipstick pop, DD cup bloody in your visions oh, she's a woman in horror come and tell me you want her handcuff torn, baby born losing is a given monster turn, crash and burn i know why you're driven oh, she's a woman in horror come and

CHORUS bury your girls bury your gays you like pretty women (yum) but you love your cliches she's coming back wrong i'm making it right once i get my shovel we'll keep you up at night (oh?) we'll keep you up at night (okay)

([british accent] so basically, she- am i american or not? i can't remember. oh. um. [american accent] is this accent okay?)

VERSE bloodthirsty kiss and chase through hell's fire and heaven's grace slow panning shots up to her face (that's hot) that's a wrap on her screentime

credits rolling, she's the last name find a plot hole, give her the blame she's a hot one but it's a shame about her crimes (ew)

PRE-CHORUS tiny top, thick makeup white and lacy linen lipstick pop, DD cup bloody in your visions oh, she's a woman in horror come and tell me you want her handcuff torn, baby born losing is a given (yeah) monster turn, crash and burn i know why you're driven oh, in a fatal genre she's dead cos you (laughter into manic shriek)

CHORUS bury your girls bury your gays you like pretty women but you love your cliches she's coming back wrong i'm making it right (yeah) since i've got my shovel we'll keep you up at night we'll keep you up at night

([american accent] so his girlfriend burns to death, so he wants revenge, but then she comes back to life, like - nonono, his mom comes back to life, because she also burned to death-)

BRIDGE me and bloody mary are getting off in the back of your daddy's car stole your silver bullets, the witches and i making magic, we go so far for women in white for mothers and wives for demons and daughters resurrection time the write to survive she's coming alive for women in horror resurrection time !!!

CHORUS you bury your girls you bury your gays i love all your women and i hate your cliches she's coming back strong i'm making it right now i've got my shovel we'll bury you deep at night we bury you deep at night

[wooahaes]

on repeat

pairing: non-idol!dk x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 12/13

word count: ~7.0k

warnings: mentions of food. time loop au. some angst concerning not having a soulmate. also mentioned angst for other member (hao).

daisy’s notes: i feel like this one could have been longer but i didnt want it to get Too long compared to the other fics, yknow?

summary: What started as a day of making deliveries ended in Seokmin waking up on the same day. And then again, and then again… So, wherever you are, he needs to find you if he wants to see Saturday again.

Seokmin had been living his life on schedule ever since he turned ten. Before that, truly, because his parents had always set something for him (school, play, dinner, bath time, bedtime), but he knew that it became a little different after he turned ten. He had doctors appointments configured into that schedule, and every appointment had his dad holding his hand as the doctor tried yet again to work out what Seokmin's sign could be. Some of them would always be subtle and hard to detect, but there were plenty of things they could figure out.

And then when that list was exhausted, the afternoon doctor's appointments turned into Wednesday afternoon appointments with Dr. Jeon. She'd spoken to Seokmin for their first appointment with his mother sitting next to him, gauging how he truly felt about the fact he might not have a soulmate. He didn't tell her at first that it hurt to be different. Not with his mother next to him, rubbing soothing circles onto his back. He needed to smile for his mom, to be the bubbly boy she knew and loved.

Wednesday afternoon, Seokmin went back alone starting with that second visit. "My classmates made fun of me again for not having a soulmate."

Dr. Jeon had adjusted her bright pink glasses, and frowned at him. "How do you feel about that?"

That they're right, so it shouldn't hurt to hear the truth. "Bad." He'd curled into himself a little more, tugging his jacket closer to himself. Maybe he could disappear if he tried. "I can't help it."

Dr. Jeon's room was lit only by lamps and whatever light made it through the blinds and curtains. She hated the overhead lights (they buzzed loudly and she could never hear herself think, she said), and Seokmin never minded that they were off. The orange glow made things feel oddly safer. So did the fake sunflowers on her desk, tucked away behind her behemoth of a computer (Dr. Jeon said she could never keep them alive if they were real). As much as he wanted to disappear, he felt safe here. Dr. Jeon wasn't his mom. He didn't have to pretend for Dr. Jeon.

"I wish I had a soulmate," his voice was quieter that time. "Some of my classmates think something's wrong with me. That..."

She looked up from where she's been jotting something down. "That?" She prodded in that inquisitive way she did last time they spoke alone for a few minutes, and Seokmin knew he couldn't drop it without feeling guilty. "It's okay, Seokmin. You can take all the time you need."

He didn't meet her gaze. "They think that I'm never gonna be loved."

Dr. Jeon frowned again at his words. "Do your parents love you?"

His head shot up. "Yes! Of course they love me!"

"Do your friends?"

He nodded furiously. "And—And I love my friends. But what does that have to do with my soulmate?"

Dr. Jeon shook her head. "Love comes in many forms, Seokmin. A soulmate's love isn't guaranteed to be romantic, but even if it was, you aren't guaranteed to be with your soulmate. Love takes effort. My husband is a relationship counselor," she twisted her wedding ring around her finger, "and he sees plenty of couples who assume being soulmates is the only thing they need to make it work."

"But..." He furrowed his brow. "I thought soulmates were forever."

"They can be." Dr. Jeon paused. "You're so young, Seokmin, but you'll understand one day. A soulmate represents the possibility of that love, not the only existence of it." She chuckled. "Besides... You're too young to worry about romantic love. But for now, we can work on acceptance."

Acceptance...?

"Whether you have a soulmate or not, Seokmin," she said, the big beads of her earrings clinking together as she set aside her pad of notes, "you're still a person capable of loving others and being loved. It's hard for kids your age to separate out love like this, but you'll realize it as you grow up. There is nothing wrong with not having a soulmate."

Seokmin hadn't been able to accept her words for a while. Every day, he saw something new in the world about soulmates. A new drama based around them, or a new discount to those who can prove they're with their soulmate, or a new magazine with childish quizzes that pretend to predict your soulmate's traits. Every Wednesday, he found himself back on that plush couch and talking about something new. A new thing he's eliminated. Another classmate discovered their sign. News of an intern at his dad's work that found his soulmate (this one Seokmin wasn't supposed to hear). And every week, he left Dr. Jeon's sessions with those words said at the end:

There was nothing wrong with not having a soulmate... So why did Seokmin want one so badly?

Seokmin grew up. He started college, and he met Minghao through it. Eventually his routine changed as he began to balance work and school and a social life, all while living in a cozy little apartment with Minghao. Make breakfast, go to class, go to work, find time to shove food into his face, deal with more customers... It became a schedule he pretty much lived by with his social life a little less present. He'd get it back one day, hopefully. But he always made time for dinner with Minghao on Friday nights: their one day a week where they’ve completely slowed down together.

Minghao seemed more tired this week. "I'm tired of blue."

Seokmin looked up from his dinner. "Which blue?"

"Calm blue. Not sad. They're fine, wherever they are, and I should be glad for it, but I'm not." Minghao scowled.

Seokmin frowned as he watched Minghao. Their vision is filled with red now, he wanted to say. Are you okay with that? But he didn't, instead reaching out to ruffle his hair. "It'll be okay," he said. "At least they're calm now."

Minghao said nothing. He just sat there, staring, brows drawing together more and more.

"What?"

"It's darker."

His soulmate was upset by something. Seokmin averted his gaze. He kept his thoughts to himself. No doubt Minghao already had them himself: his frustration upset his soulmate. He couldn't help but wonder if that was the kind of person Minghao's soulmate was: someone who empathized even though they had no idea where their own soulmate's feelings were coming from. No doubt their vision would be clouded by those same blues. Minghao could be sharp-tongued and snarky at times, but he wasn't a monster. He worried for them whenever his vision was lit up with fiery reds and deep blues and nauseating green.

"I used to be angry, too, you know." Seokmin kept his focus on his own dinner now. "That I don't have one."

"You know I don't believe that." Minghao had always been one of the ones who, for some reason, believed Seokmin did have a soulmate. His sign just wasn't one of the obvious ones like his or Seungkwan's. But Minghao was reasonable about it, too: Seokmin was the kind of person who could forge his own soulmate if things felt right enough.

Seokmin waved it off. "But I understand being angry. It's something outside of your control, and it's hard to let that... be."

Humans, in Seokmin's experience, liked having control over themselves. He saw it in himself as a child, always wanting to have some choice in what he wore, in the foods he ate. He saw it now, too, in children when he went shopping and saw patient mothers holding up two options for their child to pick from. But he always saw it the most with his friends. The frustration that etched itself into Minghao's brows whenever the colors changed, the subtle annoyance before his thanks when someone pushed Seungcheol toward the right object, the way Seungkwan would flinch from pain sometime and wave off any concern. All things that stemmed from depending entirely upon another person in one way or another. And Seokmin felt it, too, in not having. A soulmate was never a guarantee to have love in your life, after all. Yet Seokmin didn't get to choose whether he would want this person at all. Would he? If he had a soulmate, would he fall for them? He had plenty of love in his heart to give... but would they even want it from him, too?

"You're right," Minghao's voice was softer now. "I think... I want to meet them someday."

Seokmin smiled. "I think you should."

“I’m scared they’ll hate me.” Minghao let out a sigh, staring down at his food for a moment. “So what if they do?”

“Then you’ll figure it out.” Seokmin reached across the table, squeezing Minghao’s hand gently. “If they’re your soulmate… Then they’ll try to understand you. You’ll do the same, right?”

Minghao met his gaze, but said nothing. Today wasn’t a day that he could agree with Seokmin, already too inside his own head. In time, he’d accept it: Seokmin knew he would. He just needed time, and Seokmin was more than happy to give him that and whatever space he needed. He could believe in Minghao’s soulmate enough for the both of them. 

And the day he met them face to face, Seokmin knew he’d been right: Minghao’s soulmate was patient in the way he needed them to be. Understanding, too, without any hidden malice toward him. Exactly what Minghao needed.

There was a text from Seungcheol in the group chat: dinner at jun's? i'm paying :)

Not everyone was able to make it, of course. It was horribly last minute, but Seokmin figured it had to be important since it was. A few people had their reasons to not be there (work, other things that needed doing). Seokmin, on the other hand, was free from his usual job. All he had was the option to make some deliveries for extra money, and he'd probably spend the day doing that to get some exercise in. He rolled out of bed, got ready for the day, and stepped out of his bedroom to see where Minghao was asleep on the couch. Seokmin paused, brows drawing together until he saw that he was clutching his phone still. Ah. He must have come back late last night and fell asleep while on the phone with his soulmate as they made their way home. Seokmin left him with a blanket draped over him before he headed out for the day. Maybe next time, Minghao would end up asleep in his own room.

He checked the app while waiting for the elevator. Sure enough, there were already delivery orders made. Groceries (he only ever accepted the small orders), food deliveries, flowers... Seokmin scrolled through for the closest pickup to start. He wouldn't mind the long ride to wherever he was delivering to, but there was a flower shop just down the street that Seokmin always loved making deliveries for. Flowers made people happy, after all. One popped up from someone named Minho for someone named Jinki ("a 'thank you' gift for my hyung"), and Seokmin accepted it without another thought. Soon enough he'd taken the elevator down and set out for the day, pedaling his way to the flower shop.

Jinki had been caught off-guard when Seokmin showed up to his workplace with a vase of sunflowers he'd protected with his life. He passed the message onto the man, and made his way out for the next delivery, bumping into an intern on his way out. He'd apologized to her quickly, and started out for another delivery. A grocery delivery for a single dad who was taking care of a sick kid, another run to a store for cat food for a man who'd run low and couldn't leave his apartment easily with a broken leg, a lunch delivery for a young woman at work... Seokmin went about his day like any other, always greeting people with a smile before moving onto the next thing. By the end of the day, he was exhausted, and immediately went to Jun's restaurant to rest.

Jun wordlessly set a cup of water in front of him. "Push these tables together after you wipe them down," he said. "Cheol will be here soon."

Seokmin had waved him off after agreeing, just enjoying a few minutes of downtime. It wasn't even his job—Where the hell was Mingyu?—but Seungcheol had insisted that it was important. He didn't mind helping out if it made things move a little smoother. He made his way to the back to grab the things he needed, and put himself back to work. The tables were wiped down thoroughly, and Seokmin pushed them together before straightening up. The next time the door chimed, Seungcheol had come in with the brightest smile on his face that Seokmin had ever seen.

"What happened?" He asked, pushing a final chair into place. "Minghao texted to say his soulmate had something come up. I'll let him know the good news tonight, okay?"

Seungcheol made his way over, shedding the light jacket he was wearing. "I should wait until the others get here, but..." He paused, and then shook his head. "No—I'll wait. It's important."

Seokmin stood still for a moment, mind already thrumming with possibilities. "It is good news... Right?"

He nodded. "It's..." His gaze softened a little as his smile fell a little. His happiness was still warm and welcoming, but now felt akin to the tenderness of a warm embrace than the crackling fire it had been before. "It's really good news, Seokmin."

The possibilities dwindled by tens and hundreds. No bad news... Which meant this had to be big. A promotion, or maybe he finally heard back from the graduate program he was trying to get into? Seokmin drummed his fingers along the chair he'd been clutching, before tearing him away from it. People began to file in over the next twenty minutes: Jeonghan and Joshua arriving together, Mingyu bursting into the room loudly (yes, Jun, he saw the restaurant was empty—and yes, he enjoyed resting after work) with Soonyoung coming in just a few minutes later, and eventually Vernon and Chan had joined the table while bemoaning a late bus. Mingyu helped Jun serve food as they caught up on life.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan called out from the other end of the table, a knowing look on his face. “You wanted to tell them something.”

Seungcheol fought back a smile. “I found them.” 

Immediately, the room went silent. Vernon was staring at him with wide-eyes, mouth agape. Jeonghan was just smiling, clearly having been informed ahead of time—and the same could be said of Joshua, who had this shit-eating grin on his face.

“Well?” Seungcheol pouted. “You aren’t going to say anything?”

“That’s great!” Seokmin decided to say quickly, and he saw the way Seungcheol then smiled. “Do you want us to keep it a secret, or can I tell Minghao?”

“You can tell him,” Seungcheol waved him off. “I just wanted to tell the rest of you. I told Seungkwan—” He then paused, “Speaking of—All of you are terrible!” He scowled a little. “I told him first and he immediately started sending me pictures of myself in ugly outfits you all swore went together!”

Jeonghan snorted, typing something out on his phone. “We didn’t do it all the time, you know.”

Seokmin chuckled, glancing over to where Jun had settled in the chair next to him. “Remember the shirt he wore to this place’s opening?”

Seungcheol let out another whine. “I didn’t know it was neon! Joshua said it wasn’t that bad!”

“It wasn’t!” 

If looks could kill, Joshua would be ash. But Seungcheol had started bickering with him about it (apparently that shirt had been a gift from Joshua… on April fools…), and Seokmin took his chance to steal another dumpling. His phone buzzed, and he glanced down at it to see it was the app he delivered for—there was someone for a restaurant not that far away. He dismissed it. He could use the money, sure, but… He’d stay at least a little longer. Just to see Seungcheol happy.

Fed up with his debate with Joshua (an immovable object against Seungcheol’s unstoppable force), Seungcheol let the topic go for now. “We’re going out on Tuesday, actually,” he said. “I think you guys will like them. We ended up shopping together for a while and talking—they’re really nice, and…”

Seokmin let his mind drift for a moment as he listened, his own heart sinking in his chest. Everyone seemed to be finding their soulmate over this past year. He looked at Jun for a moment. That meant he was the only one who hadn’t found his soulmate yet, right? He couldn’t imagine being the last person, but Jun seemed to be taking it well. Soonyoung, just as Seokmin did, went out on the occasional date—hell, both of them had dated a bit recently before deciding to prioritize other things for a bit. But it was weird knowing that he was going to be on his own now. Even Vernon and Jihoon ended up having soulmates. Seokmin had wanted to hold out hope that maybe that meant he had one, too, but…

The door opened, and in walked someone who looked at the group with wide-eyes. “Sorry—I thought this was still open—”

“It is!” Jun said, getting up and making his way toward the counter. “Sorry, how can I help you?”

The customer had started rambling about their friend, Minho, having been here a few days ago. Seokmin listened as they explained their own soulmate sign—the same as Jun’s—and he felt his feelings swirl inside of him. The computer chirped, and Seokmin moved to see that it was a takeout request. With permission from Jun, Seokmin accepted it and immediately went to snag the delivery request himself. He’d be back before the hour was over, and it’d give him some time to clear his mind. The customer had gone to an empty table, and Jun disappeared into the back to start cooking both their food and the order that Seokmin left hanging on the line.

“Hey.” Vernon had made his way over to the counter, voice lower, “Everything okay?”

Seokmin nodded, quietly sliding a fortune cookie across the counter. “I’m going to make a delivery,” he said. “Just to get some air.”

Vernon slowly nodded, immediately getting it. He’d stepped out when his own struggles were getting to him before he found his own soulmate, after all. “Gotcha. Is it a good tip?”

Seokmin glanced at the screen. Not really, but he didn’t mind: it was a small order and he wasn’t going far. It was better than no tip, at least. “Yeah,” he lied. “I could use the extra money.”

Vernon knew he was lying. But he nodded again, tucking the cookie into his hoodie pocket. “Travel safe, dude.”

All too quickly, Jun had plated the food. Mingyu had dipped into the back, delivering the dishes to the customer that sat alone, and Jun sat next to Seokmin. He’d uncapped a sharpie with his teeth, drawing a little cat onto the corner of the plate alongside a flower. Above it, he’d written some message of encouragement—all a part of the order’s request. 

“Someone else could pick up the order,” Jun capped the marker again. “If you don’t want to go.” 

Seokmin shrugged it off. “It isn’t far.” He paused, “Plus my bike is outside. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Jun hadn’t responded, brows drawing together. He looked over to the customer in the room, watching as they ate for a moment.

“Jun?”

He took a step away, realization spreading over his features. “Sorry, I just—” He walked away, quietly greeting the customer. Seokmin watched as he rounded the other chair, hands curling around the top of it as he said something… and soon Seokmin knew. 

So he packed away the meal, tying the bag, and confirmed that the order was on its way. He’d congratulate Jun later on finding his soulmate. But now, he just needed to get out before the heat and smell of spice suffocated him. He grabbed his bike, unlocked it, and took off toward the towering building not that far into the city. It was all too easy to get into the building and get pointed toward the right floor. Normally, he’d leave it here, but he decided to waste a few minutes heading upstairs.

A young man had greeted him, breaking away from where his coworkers were gathered around pizza. One of them had already heckled him for being the one person to order something out, but it all seemed to be in good faith. The guy—Soobin, according to the app—had thanked him, quickly enough. Someone bumped into Seokmin as he was waiting for Soobin to hand him a cash tip (something he’d insisted upon), and Seokmin felt his heart leap. Maybe he’d text Jun and apologize and head home instead. Things were… off. 

Jun didn’t hold it against him when he did. All he did was wish him a good night, and Seokmin was thankful for it. 

There was a text from Seungcheol in the group chat: dinner at jun's? i'm paying :)

Which was odd. Seungcheol had already treated them out last night, so why invite them out again? What was he going to announce—a marriage proposal? Seokmin was still half asleep as he pushed himself out of bed. He'd agree to be there after he ate breakfast. He skipped it yesterday and soon regretted it. Yet the moment he stepped out of his bedroom, he saw Minghao asleep on the couch again. He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he made his way over.

"Minghao, your bed is more comfortable," he nudged him awake. "Two nights in a row? Really?"

Minghao had furrowed his brow upon waking up, staring up at him. "Two...? What are you talking about?"

Seokmin walked away, stretching as he went. "Didn't you fall asleep here the other night?"

With a confused look, he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He stretched before reaching for his phone, looking down to see the new message on it. "What does Cheol want...? It's short notice and he knows it."

Seokmin looked up, already growing more confused. "He found his soulmate. Don't you remember? I told you when I got back last night."

"You were asleep when I got in." Minghao frowned at him. "When did he tell you?"

"Last night when we..." He trailed off, looking at his phone more clearly now. It was Friday, but yesterday had been Friday. He knew it, because he'd lived it. "We had dinner with a couple of the others, and..."

Minghao folded his jacket over his arms, and it was now that Seokmin realized this had been what he'd seen Minghao wearing on Thursday night. "You must be psychic or something," he made his way toward his room. "Don't ruin the surprise. Cheol will never let you hear the end of it if you do."

Yesterday was Friday. Seokmin knew that yesterday was Friday. So why the hell was it Friday again? Maybe he'd dreamed the entire thing. Was that a sign? He'd look into it later. Food and work would come first. He'd start looking into it when he showed up to Jun's restaurant tonight.

Sure enough, every single order he'd filled yesterday was right there today. Seokmin accepted those, too: maybe his dream meant something.

Sure enough, the night played out the same. Seungcheol announced having a soulmate. The others teased him over the past outfits he’d worn. Joshua poked fun at a neon shirt. Jun’s soulmate came into the restaurant. And Seokmin accepted that same takeout order. This time he had almost avoided the person coming in, and he’d given them a strange look when they turned back to acknowledge him this time. Again, they apologized to him after a moment before going on, checking their phone.

And then he went to sleep, and, again, it was Friday.

Around the fifth Friday he lived through, Seokmin realized a few things. He’d already figured out that he both met his soulmate and missed them (he Googled a lot that third Friday), and that he just needed to find them to break the loop. Every single day, he tried to fill the same delivery orders. He tried to go to the same places at the same time. He met the same people most of the time—he’d already missed that final order twice now, snatched up by someone else while he was trying to figure out what was wrong. 

But that was… beyond several Fridays ago. This was Friday number fifteen, and he’d managed to exact a few things. Minghao had given him something to say to prove that, yes, Seokmin was trapped in a time loop (details of his date the night before, followed by a quick enough explanation that Minghao knew wasn’t bullshit by the panic in his voice), and it’d given him an ally in every repeat day. He’d slipped up and spoiled Seungcheol’s surprise during one of the loops and given up on finding his soulmate that time. It didn’t feel fair to potentially let that be the day. 

Minghao filled a cup with ice and water. “You’re not trying to make the day perfect though, right? Because you’re going to just prolong it if you do.”

“I’m not.” Seokmin had stretched out across their couch, arms resting over his stomach. He didn’t have to leave for another few minutes. “I just didn’t want to find them after I ruined Seungcheol’s surprise.”

“He doesn’t remember now, though,” he shrugged. “Try to find them soon, though. You seem tired.”

“I am.” 

Minghao came over to him, extending the glass to him. “Then get out there and keep looking.”

“I have to stick to the schedule, though,” Seokmin accepted the glass as he sat up. “Otherwise I’ll keep missing them.” 

“Remember what we all said?” Minghao crossed his arms. “You’ll know them when you see them.”

Seokmin moved over, giving Minghao space to sit next to him. “I don’t know what that means.”

“When I saw my soulmate, I…” He pressed his lips together, looking toward the windows for a moment. “I felt like I was at peace.” Again, he paused, thinking over his words. “Like… I was ready to try to love them. To learn more about them and see why they were my soulmate.” 

That night, Seokmin posed the question of how they all knew while sitting at dinner with the others. He mouthed an apology to Soonyoung for asking a question neither of them (to his knowledge) would ever understand, but he didn’t seem all too bothered by it. The group had gone quiet, all thinking about their individual answers. And as Seokmin expected, Seungcheol had his the soonest.

“I didn’t feel anything special until I caught them,” he admitted, looking at Seokmin. “But when I did… It felt like everything was right. Like… Everything had been leading to that moment. I was where I needed to be, I think. As much as I wanted to meet them sooner, I think we found each other at the right time.”

Jeonghan nodded along to it, a soft hum sounding from him as he agreed with every sentence. “Right. I know I’m different because I’ve always known mine, but… I felt like I’d found the missing piece in my life. I know that’s sappy to say,” he laughed softly, “but it’s true. I’ve loved them this long, you know?”

Vernon had pressed his lips together. And a moment later, he nodded, too. “Right. I’d liked them for a while, but I think realizing that our sign had been right there the entire time… It all just made sense—”

“You literally made out with them immediately, don’t act all sentimental,” Chan rolled his eyes. “But… I felt this pull when I met them. Their friend had caught me, but it still felt like something was pulling me toward them.”

“Right, right…” Mingyu nodded along to that. “It felt like things were right in this way I can’t describe.”

Joshua hummed to himself, the sole person without an answer yet. He raked his fingers through his hair before meeting Seokmin’s gaze. “Maybe I’m just weird, but I didn’t really have anything like that. Like… I knew I was about to meet them since we’d agreed to meet up at a coffee shop, but the most I felt was this comfortable warmth. Like, we’d grown up sharing this experience together. It just felt like I met someone who understood me in some way.”

Seokmin noted down everything in his mind. A feeling of things being right, or a pull toward someone, or even that he’d found something he’d always been missing (although maybe without realizing it, if it were to apply to him). 

Yet he went to bed that night, woke up to another Friday, and wondered if he had broken something along the way.

Online forums helped plenty. He made and remade an account and the same post since around Friday number eight, always getting the same people chiming in and believing in him. You’ll find them soon! He’d always say how many Fridays he’d repeated, and yet there was always the same encouragement. Today was Friday number seventeen. Every single day, Seokmin woke up to the same situation. A new account, a new post. Seungcheol’s text. The same deliveries, the same thanks. The same breaks for lunch, including texting Mingyu about meeting up for coffee sometime (he hadn’t made it yet, but he was determined to). The people on the forums had told him the same thing his friends did: he would know his soulmate when he saw them.

So why was he so antsy today?

He’d shown up to Jun’s restaurant at the same time, wiping down the tables in record speed before relaxing with his cup of ice water. He listened to the clamor of pans in the back as Jun cooked for another table, eyes fluttering shut as he sighed. Friday number seventeen, and he wasn’t getting any closer, was he? Over two weeks and he’d found little ways to break up the monotony when he could. No one he delivered to was his soulmate. No one in that Jinki guy’s office had faced a repeat day (he’d done the stupid thing and stood up during day twelve and asked out loud, and he was thankful no one would remember it by midnight). No one in any of the stores he went to, either (again, day fourteen he did the same as he did with Jinki’s work). And he’d delivered to Soobin faster than ever before, only to receive no answer when he asked yesterday. 

So where was his soulmate?

Seungcheol arrived soon enough, smiling as brightly as ever. The others filed in over time, too. Jeonghan and Joshua arrived together once more, always talking about some movie they were still debating about the real meaning of. Mingyu made a big deal stretching and bragging about his short break at home with his soulmate—he’d bring the back takeout afterward. Soonyoung burst into the restaurant soon enough, always talking about how he was tired of his office being short on staff. Then Vernon and Chan, bemoaning their late bus as always, joined the table soon enough. Seokmin had known the following conversation by heart: Seungcheol announcing that he found his soulmate, followed by him pouting when no one immediately said anything. Seokmin always found himself being the first to congratulate him, saying he’d pass word along to Minghao if he wanted. Seungkwan sent Seungcheol all of the ugly outfits they’d lovingly tricked him into wearing over the years (never for serious events—always for a stupid get-together with the full group). The neon shirt. Jun’s soulmate would be there soon. They always came in at the exact same time…

Jun reached out, fingers brushing against Seokmin’s bicep and tearing his eyes away from his watch. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft enough to not alert the others, and Seokmin barely paid him any mind at first.

“Just waiting for something.” He paused, then realized that he was the only person present who knew of his situation. He looked up, shaking his head as he turned to Jun. “Sorry! Sorry, I’m fine. Just…” He glanced at the door for a moment. Any moment now. “Waiting.”

Seungcheol spoke up again about his soulmate, and Seokmin was thankful for the change in topic. He’d explain it all in due time. Hopefully today would give him another do-over and he wouldn’t worry Jun. Soon enough, the door jingled, and Seokmin rose up out of his chair. Jun’s soulmate was here, which meant the order from Soobin would be coming in soon. He’d made his way over to the computer, tapping at the edge of it as he waited impatiently. Soon. Soon. Jun had stood up, excusing himself from the group to unknowingly speak to his soulmate.

“Sorry,” Jun’s soulmate had said to him, and he slid them a menu without much thought. “My friend, Minho, came here with a couple of friends…”

Seconds passed with each tap of Seokmin’s finger. Soobin’s order. Always steamed pork buns and fried rice and some sort of beef or pork (the only thing that might change—the tiniest change that didn’t affect anything). He pressed his lips tighter together. Tomorrow, he’d start from the top. He’d ask everyone. He’d tell everyone that he was stuck in a time loop. Minghao would help him convince them all. If they knew that Seokmin was looking for his soulmate, they would help. 

The computer chimed. Seokmin tapped the order, reading over it. Steamed pork buns. Fried rice. Beef. And…

And more?

He hesitated to accept it, glancing over to Jun and his soulmate.  “Jun. There’s a request for takeout.” He paused for just a second, “I’m gonna confirm it, alright?”

Jun waved him on, and Seokmin felt his heart hammering in his chest as the ticket printed out. He made his way to the kitchen, clipping it to the line for Jun to refer to. This had to be a sign. You were there. You had to be there, right? No one ever changed their order like this. His brows knit together. Had he done something to set off some sort of butterfly effect? Was he just giving himself false hope now? He wanted out of this loop, soulmate or no soulmate. He’d lived this Friday seventeen times now, and all he wanted was to wake up on Saturday morning and go get coffee with Mingyu because Mingyu was offering. Mingyu would pay for a slice of cake or whatever dessert he wanted, too. And at this point, Seokmin had earned the same thing.

“Is everything okay?” Jun had approached him, keeping his voice low—again, mindful of what little privacy they had with so many of their friends present. “You seem… different.”

He shook his head. No need to worry him yet. “The ticket’s on the line,” he couldn’t stop staring at the screen now. An extra order. For what? For who? Jun hadn’t budged. Seokmin decided to lie: “Just… thought I recognized the name.”

Thankfully, Jun shrugged it off. Mingyu had made his way to the kitchens to help, and Seokmin held himself together. He would not get his hopes up. Not too high. This could be it, or it could be some sort of butterfly effect. He took a different way to the store earlier, after all. Wasn’t that what the whole thing was based around? Small actions having bigger impacts? Wonwoo would know. He was smart, he’d probably read about it. Maybe he’d ask Wonwoo about it on Friday number eighteen, if he woke up on Friday again. 

The food was made and plated before Seokmin knew, and he watched as Jun uncapped a sharpie with his teeth. He’d drawn a little cat onto the corner of one of the lids—the unfamiliar order, Seokmin realized—and then drew a little flower next to it. He’d always done it for Soobin’s order. Would that change things, too…?

“Someone else could pick up the order,” Jun said as he re-capped the marker. “If you don’t want to go.”

“No!” Seokmin paused. When did he get so desperate? He waved a hand, trying to act casual again. “I mean—The money is good, and my bike is outside.” Please don’t push. “I’ll try to be back to help clean up.” But if this is it, I won’t. I can’t. Please understand. Seokmin tied the bag tight after throwing in a few sets of utensils and more than enough fortune cookies. He picked up the bag, stopping to turn back to Jun. 

His soulmate was right there, and Jun hadn’t realized it yet. Maybe…

“Jun?”

Jun looked up from where he’d begun to tidy up behind the counter, that same earnest look on his face. Seokmin always wondered what he looked like when he realized that person was his soulmate. Even when he missed being able to deliver Soobin’s order, he tried to go out, to retrace his steps and hopefully run into his soulmate. Then again… Would telling him throw things off even further? Or would Jun even want for him to tell him? 

Seokmin opened his mouth, then closed it a moment later. He turned, looking at Jun’s soulmate. They were sitting alone, about to break into their meal. Jun would know soon enough. And… if it were him, Seokmin wouldn’t want to have the moment given to him like this. He turned back to Jun one last time. “Actually… Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back later.”

He could see the concern on Jun’s face, clear as day. No doubt he would be calling him come morning. Seokmin made his way out of the restaurant, waving to the others and saying he’d try to be back as soon as he could. Soon enough, he’d unlocked the bike lock and tucked it into his bag, strapping on his helmet. He’d biked this path so many times he knew it by heart, no need to keep track of his location through his phone’s map. He left his bike near the doors in the lobby, the way he always did when the secretary let him into the building. The elevator ride felt shorter than normal, and Seokmin found himself hesitating. He could hear Soobin and his coworkers talking in the other room. 

He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and made his way forward. Soobin lit up when he saw him. Again, he was heckled by another coworker for ordering something else, and Soobin waved them off.

“I’m not the only one,” he’d said this time. “They’re—” He paused, looking around, only to roll his eyes. “They’re in the bathroom still—”

“I’m here!”

Your shoulder bumped against Seokmin as you rushed in, and Seokmin felt his heart leap. It was you. You’d bumped into him that first day while Soobin was giving him the cash tip he’d insisted on. And now you were pulling out your own wallet, insisting on covering a cash tip since Soobin hadn’t tipped enough on the app. You’d been rambling about how today you felt like something other than pizza, and…

“It’s you.” 

You looked up, blinking as you stared at Seokmin. “Me…?” And then it clicked, those pretty eyes lighting up with realization. “You—” You had gasped, eyes already growing teary. “You’re—”

Seokmin could kiss you now, relief flooding every single cell in his body. He’d dropped the bag onto Soobin’s desk, ignoring the way the guy dove to make sure nothing spilled, and stepped forward. You had immediately wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight. Something felt right about it all, like his life had come together in a way he never knew it could have. The rest of your coworkers had gone quiet, and Seokmin had let himself cry a little. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, voice wavering. He held you tighter, “I—I almost thought I wouldn’t find you.”

You said nothing and just let yourself cry out of relief. 

When you finally pulled away, it was to tell your coworkers that you needed to leave soon. You knew just as well as he did that the two of you needed to be together when midnight struck, and you weren’t going to work through the entire night. Not with Seokmin right there with you. It seemed to renew the energy in your team as all of you got to work. You pulled a chair over for Seokmin to sit near you while he waited, and he took the chance to text a few things out:

To Minghao: I’ll see you saturday

To Jun: I’ll explain tomorrow :) don’t worry about me. I’m okay now.

And to Seungcheol: I found them. 

You had paused for a moment, looking at Seokmin curiously. After a moment, you caught yourself staring, and grew flustered. “Sorry. Just… What do you want to do? We've got some time to kill until midnight, so...”

Seokmin had been living his life adhering to routine. From childhood to adulthood to the past seventeen Fridays, everything had a time and place for him to be. So he just smiled at you, rolling his chair a little closer to you: “Whatever you want to do.” He paused, deciding to go all in on being cheesy. “Let’s follow our hearts this time, okay?”

And you, who had found routine over and over in your own life, smiled and made living on repeat worth it with that smile.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[mishy-mashy]

Bruce is actually really attractive, and I have enough reasoning to make a list

He's:

Tall (. Tall enough to hit his head on the vault doorframe)

Long-legged

Has a straight nose bridge

Has high cheekbones (more noticeable in 2nd pic below)

Has a strong jawline

Sharp eyes, but they aren't small (plus eyebags if you're into that)

Overall, he has strong, attractive facial features

Has broad, refined shoulders. You can tell he works out (or he did, when he was alive)

Even has a thick, muscly neck

He has MUSCLE. Is SCULPTED. NOICE. VERY NOICE. (nice arms. Nice shoulders. Nice neck. Nice legs. Nice butt-)

(There are actually panels where you can see some of his muscles. Other than those already shown here, he's got bricky thighs-

-and in the panels where we first get his name dropped, he's got those shoulder blades too-)

The one time we see him smile, and he actually has a scary one

Has small, kinda sharp pupils, and his eyes remind me of a cat. We only ever saw him tense or defensive, so his resting/listening face is really cute

Other than the physical appearance stuff, he also:

Takes shit without batting an eye (patience, knowing it's just how Kudo is, etc)

Kudo being all "Cut the crap Bruce and give it to me straight", after Bruce tests his blood and is rightfully Concerned because they just faced AFO

Put up with Kudo's experimenting and testing over Yoichi's transferable Factor

Did ya'll see the look on Kudo's face when he realized he had Yoichi's Factor/will? Kudo was going to start in nonsense and Bruce just dealt with that.

Also something I noticed when looking back at the images here; Bruce has bandages on his arms in the void. But not when he faced AFO in the sewers.

Were he and Kudo cutting their arms open in their experimenting over Yoichi's theory? Is this why Kudo has two gauntlets instead of his one? Why we never see his bare arms in the void? That he always keeps his arms down so there's no slip?

Is smart enough to run blood tests, plus has enough common sense to pick Shinomori as his successor

He picked a guy who avoids society, has an Ability to detect danger so he can always stay away from AFO, is also a coward so he's never going to go throw himself into danger, even without knowing instinctively he stands no chance, etc.

Meanwhile, Kudo chose Bruce, who he played Hot Potato Yoichi with; but he did also trust Bruce, and put the only pure combative Ability in OFA through Bruce.

These two made their choices based on what they valued and saw the Factor needed.

Is logical, analytical, and calm.

He tried advising Midoriya on their Abilities in One For All, especially his own.

Midoriya then tried ignoring him about using Fa Jin for the first time, but found he was right, thinking: "Dammit!! I had [Lady Nagant] right where I wanted her, but... ugh! The Third was right. My parallel Quirk processes are all screwed up!" (ch. 314).

Plus, when Midoriya fixed his processing mistakes, Bruce was analyzing the way he reached his new conclusion. Pure facts, no bias, very calm, just saying it as it was.

We never see him panic. When he's caught by surprise in the sewers by AFO, Kudo, and Yoichi's little bubble event, he immediately reacts. He doesn't falter, he just knows he has to do something right now.

Was more willing to listen than Kudo to Yoichi's beckon, and probably was just following Kudo's rejection of Midoriya

While we don't see Kudo's face, we see Bruce's eyes when Yoichi calls on his heroes. Bruce was more open and receptive, or at least more impacted.

Bruce was also the one to start talking, while Kudo just kept quiet.

He actually communicates a lot

When Yoichi called them to support Midoriya, Bruce started talking to paint a picture of why they thought the way they did, so Yoichi understood where they were coming from.

(Though he seems to beat about the bush sometimes, since Kudo spoke up to be direct on how they couldn't just put their trust in some starry-eyed teenager. Plus, when Kudo tells him to just tell him what's wrong [double Factors])

When Midoriya first used Fa Jin against Nagant, Bruce came out just to tell him he knew what he was trying, but that Midoriya wasn't ready; and Midoriya found he was right. Midoriya just didn't want to listen to him then.

He asks Kudo for clarification after finding Kudo had two Factors in him after the sewer incident ("Just to be sure, All For One didn't touch you, right?") Kudo knew him well enough to go "stop beating around the bush and tell me", so Bruce was probably gonna start with questions, theories, and trying to understand everything in general, before saying "yeah you have two Factors. Don't know why".

Is strong-willed and loyal.

He followed Kudo, even to death, carrying on the cause he started until it ended with him.

Plus, when talking about how AFO needs a strong will to override OFA's own, we first see Bruce, Kudo, and Yoichi.

AFO couldn't steal OFA because the will was too strong for him, and that was back during Banjo's time. Since Shinomori never actually tried opposing AFO and just hid, we can assume the first Three (Yoichi, Kudo, Bruce) already had an accumulation of strong willpower that made OFA un-stealable. Those three are a strong enough foundation, and the main wills, that the other users just become bonuses.

Kudo, also saying that Midoriya needs allies with the same will and drive as him... hey Kudo, you're talking about yourself and your old allies, aren't you? That's why you look at Yoichi and Bruce when you say this.

Not only is Bruce attractive, but he's got good character. THE END.

[dartagnantt]

Dungeon Delver's Survival Guide | Or how I learned how to DC skill checks

PDFs of this and more can be found over on at my Patreon here! I release everything for free, so your support makes this possible. I'm working on a new class for 5e! Follow the Kickstarter here!

Not to be mistaken for my other survival guide that has yet to go anywhere

A conversation and a youtube video made me consider re-examining some skill checks in a bubble, as opposed to just observing the weird table in the using ability scores section of the PHB and binary success or failure states.

So, enjoy me rambling and inventing game mechanics!

I considered doing an entry for insight check on creatures who aren't lying, but I ran out of time, and it was kind of off theme

And now to plug my stuff. I release homebrews weekly over on my Patreon. Anyone who pledges $1 or more per post don't have to wait a month to see them, and also help fund my being alive habit.

At the moment, they have exclusive access to the following:

Oath of Integrity

Path of Iron

Stranger than Fiction

Trickery Domain: Revised

I also have three classes, and a splatbook over on DriveThrueRPG to check out:

The Rift Binder. A class specialising in summoning monsters and controlling the battlefield.

The Witch Knight. A class that combines swords and sorcery in the most literal way.

The Werebeast. A class that turns you into a half beast to destroy your foes.

d'Artagnan's Adventurer Almanac. A compendium of races, subclasses, feats, spells, monsters and more!

[3hks]

How to Write the "Golden Retriever" Character

Hello hello! I recently uploaded a post about writing the "Black Cat" trope and as promised, here's my advice on the opposite archetype: Golden retrievers!

OVERVIEW

In general, the GR is more open and extroverted. They can talk and often aren't shy about it! They seem more comfortable in their own skins and tend to get along with people better.

DIALOGUE

For dialogue, subtext also matters here, but it's not as needed as for the "Black Cat." Why? Because for the BC, they're words don't always line up with their intentions, but for the GR, they may have more animated ways of talking that include extravagant gestures and expressive features!

And because they enjoy talking, it's not uncommon for them to get ahead of themselves; thus, they may use filler words (uh, uhm, etc.) more than their counterpart.

As for dialogue tags, words such as beamed, cheered, exclaimed, etc. should be used to depict their excitable and happy nature. Of course, they won't be sunshine and rainbows all the time, but it's still good to keep an eye on the tags you're using!

But as a whole, there aren't many limitations as to what you can and cannot do when it comes to how this archetype speaks. As long as they aren't stoic 24/7, then you're free to play around!

CHARACTERISTICS

Again, let's talk about some flaws and virtues of this character! As always, you don't need all of these traits to form a successful and well-written character (and obviously, you can add more); these ideas won't apply to everyone!

*VIRTUES*

Caring

Kind (Sweet, friendly, etc.)

Open-minded

Sociable

Adventurous

Accepting

Positive

*FLAWS*

Dense

Ignores personal space

Impulsive

Overly chatty

Gets ahead of themselves

In general, the GR is an optimistic extrovert who loves approaching people but can be a bit dense about love and personal boundaries--even more than the BC. Still, that's what makes them so loveable! They have an innate curiosity and impulsivity, so they're more open to adventure. On the flip side, this also means that they aren't great at taking care of themselves and can be irresponsible.

**CHARACTER**

Because of the GR's sociability, they can be pretty popular amongst their peers and/or co-workers. Unlike some underhanded methods to gain popularity, the GR gains attention naturally with their endearingly wholesome, energetic, and honest personality. They may also come off as slightly naive and too innocent in some sense, it only adds to their charm.

However, that means that others may attempt to manipulate the GR because of their gullibility.

RELATIONSHIP

In their relationship, the "Black Cat" should balance out the GR and vice versa. In 99% of cases, the GR first approaches the BC upon their first meeting but it's generally the BC who keeps the impulsive GR in line (and alive).

In a social stance, the GR is the extrovert while the BC is the introvert; thus, in any social events, the GR typically does the most talking while the BC hangs in the back.

It will take some difficulty for the both of them to compromise and fully understand each other because of their near opposite traits, and there's normally some struggles regarding communication.

With the BC, the GR also tends to be more open about their honest emotions; they're unafraid to show their tiredness, misery, and even clinginess regardless of how "out-of-character" it may seem. To add on, they can become really serious when it comes to their loved ones.

CONCLUSION

To quickly sum up, the GR is a bubbly, talkative character who sometimes doesn't think their actions through but is loveable all the same! They can be a little clueless at times but are supportive lovers and friends.

Happy writing~

3hks ^^

[imustbenuts]

nuts reads trigun in jp 14 - trimax' vol 1 theme is big on family

i mean, thats obvious, but it didn't ping on my radar as much until im sitting here chewing on what im reading.

ive written in part 7 with the first hint of filial piety, 12 with a lost in translation bit about vash calling sheryl and lina his family, and 13 where wolfwood comes across as a guy who is taking someone's child(daughter) away to elope for marriage. the tl;dr of all of this is that trimax' vol 1 seems to be a set up for exploring themes and what "family" can be defined as.

i uh, suspect japanese idea of 内外 uchi-soto is at play here. (ie in-group and out-group but family) it seems to be lowkey tied to that and the themes of 'otherism'. the kanjis for them means, in 内, and out 外.

the uchi 内 is the 'us', and it is most commonly used in the context of home and family.

the soto 外 is the others, the ones who aren't part of the family.

there's absolutely more ways uchi-soto can be used than just family. village, organization, etc.

so while i dont have a concrete answer of how fucked family dynamics exactly are in japan, i can say its at least pretty fucked in a lot of asian countries affected by ww2. this is further compounded by a lot of classism, traditionalism, trauma, shit mental healthcare, absurd rapid economic growth, the whole turd rainbow, that its not uncommon for many born in say 1900s to 1980s to be... pretty messed up.

i mean, the long term results of gunboat diplomacy, opium wars and colonialism will do all of that, yeah.

i think its why knives here vaguely gives me that abusive old asian turd vibe:

domestic abuse is... not exactly uncommon, honestly. again, dont live in japan so i wont pretend to know for sure, but similar culture and the same capitalism trajectory makes me think its got similar trends. also a lot of these DVs can rooted in toxic masculinity, power trips, ego, and anxiety surrounding productiveness/money.

yeehaw:

(quick note: another reading of 内 uchi can be nai. is that why studio orange named him nai....??? 🤔 and gave him a onesies pajamas and made him a hikkikomori?)

so thats knives. he kicks and slaps his little brother around and even cuts off his arm to the point that a lot of vash's behavior can come across as an abuse victim survivor. he shares the uchi with vash and their sister plants, while everyone else alive on NML is the soto. the outsiders.

and then vash seems to define his own 'uchi' as... the entirety of humanity, or at least an uchi with no 'soto'. no outsiders than maybe himself. its debatable if you want to read this as a result of his abuse, if vash inherently leans towards this, or a mix of the two. like how things are depicted in stampede.

i think the characters that highlight these themes nicely are Sensei/Doc and Brad. im skipping and not rehashing stuff from my prev post, but yeah its. all there.

.... Of course I would We're family (身内). And it's all the same to him. Vash The Stampede's concept of "family (身内)" is absurdly wide.

i mean, check out brad's bubble in here where the Family is expressed as 身内 miuchi. more in the tone of "one of ours". nightow could have just used a bunch of other words like 家族 kazoku, 親身 shinmi, 親戚 shinseki that leans closer to blood family, but nah. nightow just picks 身内, with the 内 to highlight the in group out group family culture dynamic going on.

this is then followed up with this panel

man.

i wanna whack knives with a steel chair.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #29] 'Daddy'

warnings: polaroid taking, titty compliments <3, teasing, 'daddy' but not seriously lol, busan invite!!! yaaaaay!!!

a/n: last update for 2nite cos next week will be busan hehe

wc: 8k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

A soft smile rests on your lips as you wake up; the heat of Jeongguk's body keeping you warm beneath your duvet. His arm is looped over your waist, and while there's nothing inherently romantic about it, you find yourself indulging in how lovely it feels. Safe. Snug. Stable.

He eventually stirs a little later than you, squeezing you closer while his legs stretch out a little bit, and nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. Groans.

"Morning," he says, voice gravelly, throat a little parched from the dry winter air. Your humidifier had run out of water in the night, but neither of you had been woken by the small beep that would have told you so.

Your hand drops to rest over his, and he doesn't really think much of it as he spreads his fingers for yours to sink between. It's nice, the way his body just sort of accepts yours in any capacity; the same way yours does for him. You wouldn't say you're holding hands (even if you are). Would just say you're connected. Fostering a feeling of togetherness (even if you aren't).

"Morning," you hum gently, voice also a little croaky.

Jeongguk always thinks you sound cute like this. Likes your morning voice.

You like his, too. It's a little deeper than usual. Breathy. It's just 'cause the air has dried out his throat overnight, and his vocal cords can't vibrate at their full capacity. There's logic to his lethargic-sounding voice, but you ignore it all, 'cause you like the excuse of him just being sexy.

And yet despite the attraction that comes with a husky voice, the overwhelming adoration that irritates your heart as it bubbles through your veins comes in the form of intimacy.

Jeongguk's voice sounds like this because he slept in your bed.

He sounds like this, because he feels safe enough around you to let down any and all guards.

Sure, you're no longer hunter gathers from prehistoric times, and sleeping doesn't hold the same weight as it would have done for your ancestors. There are locks on your doors in one of the safest nations in the world. To sleep doesn't mean to risk death - and yet the cautionary tales of humanity run within your veins. You're only alive because one night, thousands of years ago, someone stayed awake throughout the night to ensure their family's safety.

Falling asleep together? Well, it only confirms one thing: you're a safety zone for one another.

Or maybe not. Guess you'll never truly know.

It's all very sickening, how sweetly you think of one another. Would never admit to it. Both as bad as one another in that regard. Made for one another, some may say.

"You stayed," you say, as if Jeongguk would ever leave.

"You know I always stay," he mumbles. He's been in your bed enough times for you to know this. Why you'd ever think he'd do otherwise is beyond him. "Plus I like your shampoo. Wanna use it."

His sleepy eyes are still shut. He's only entertaining this conversation 'cause he enjoys entertaining you.

"Show up without warning, claim my bed as your own, and now you're after a shower, too?" You affectionately scold him. He squeezes you a little tighter.

"What's mine is yours, remember?" he says, echoing a statement from the night before, lips brushing against your neck so subtly that you wonder if he even realises.

He does.

"We're not married," you tell him, to which he just shrugs. Holds you even tighter, still.

"We could be."

"Would you make me sign a prenup?"

"No."

"Okay," you airily agree. It's all facetious, and carries no weight. Is just fun to joke about from time to time. Something you've done for a while, now. Will always pretend like it repulses you. "We can get married. I'll rinse you in the divorce, though."

He pouts against your skin. Huffs. "That's not fair, B."

He'd never do that to you.

"Then don't marry me," you tease, as if it's even an option. "Problem solved."

Jeongguk doesn't like this scenario.

Also doesn't like that he's started joking about marriage, 'cause he knows it's only because his brain is doing that stupid little thing it likes to do whenever he has a crush.

See, Jeongguk is bad at the whole casual thing. Made a marriage pact with Hayun before he'd even fucked her. Fancied a friend in high school and ended up studying the same optional classes as her 'cause she told him that he should. It's why he was late applying for uni. Didn't have the right set of subjects studied to be accepted onto his course, so had to take a couple extra exams.

So now he's joking with you about getting married, 'cause he's accidentally thought about it a couple of times, and doesn't wanna be the only one of you thinking about it.

It's not like they were big dreams - just little daydreams, small snippets of a 'what if' . You hardly even feature in the daydreams. Apart from that one where he imagined you both walking into a reception room after the nuptials to a crowd of your friends cheering - but, like, everyone has silly little thoughts like that! Or at least, that's what he likes to tell himself.

He's been speaking with Yoongi a lot lately about wedding plans. Decides that's what's corrupted him. He's still young. Still single. He's not ready for any of that. Not in the slightest.

"Wouldn't wanna marry you anyways," he says. "You're so not my type."

"Gguk," you deadpan. "I can feel your boner digging into my ass."

It's not a lie. It's also not because of you, you know this. Know that morning is a particularly... hard time for him.

"It's morning," he pouts. "Not my fault. I'd get a boner even if I was hugging... I don't know. A pillow. Or Jimin."

"You'd get a boner for Jimin? Does mean a threesome-"

"No," he mumbles quickly, his sleepy voice making him sound so sweet and tepid, despite the burning heat beneath his ribs. "Shush, baby. No threesome."

Baby .

A term of endearment reserved for only the most intimate of endeavours, Jeongguk has never called you it outside of sex. He knows this. You know this.

Neither of you mention it.

You simply just pretend like he never said it; like your heart isn't beating so fast you're scared it might stop.

The rule of no pet names was put in place by you; ignored by him.

Disco Ball? Fine. Whatever.

Byeol? Excusable.

B? Well, it kinda makes sense.

But baby ? God, it gets you all sorts of fucked up.

You're able to ignore the way it makes you feel, usually. Too distracted by his lips, or the need to keep yourself from coming undone. Like this, when you're being kept warm by his body, but his touches are as innocent as his voice is sleepy, it's different.

For the first time in a long time, you feel a little bit scared. He's so good with your fears, but they still exist. You've just been holding a pillow over your eyes for a few months.

The pillow is gone now; just you, him, and the cinematic-scale fears your harbour in your heart.

"A threesome would be good for you," you say, not really believing it. "You're wasted on just one girl."

He squeezes you a little tighter, for the billionth time within a fifteen-minute window. "No, I'm not."

It's lovely to indulge in such a declaration.

It means nothing, in the grand schemes of things - just that Jeongguk thinks you're worthy of his body - and yet it feels a little weightier than it really should do. It's almost as if there are rocks tied to his words, but they're disguised in pretty satin scarves, wrapped up and hidden away, only felt when they get tied to you and drag you down. Head in the clouds, feet on the ground typa shit. The kinda feeling that makes you wanna write poetry, but you haven't written anything of any substance since Seokjin.

There's a quiet sadness to the way that your broken heart always seems to spill onto pages of notebooks, but the things you really want to shout about? The things that make you smile? They never make it onto the pages of your journals.

You keep these feelings all bottled up. Wax sealed. A daisy dried into the imprint. Just for you. Yours, all yours. No one can steal them that way. They're safe.

Like you are right now; Jeongguk holding you in such a way that lets you know you'll never be truly alone, as long as he's in your life.

You're grateful.

And it terrifies you.

You know that Jeongguk is withholding something that will only hurt you.

Have done since he showed up at your place after the last Dionysus night.

Should you rip it like a band-aid, or apply pressure to stop the bleeding? It's not a choice you wanna have to make.

Yet you know you need to.

Quietly, you muster up your courage. Untangle your fingers from his. Remain in your little spoon position, but busy your hands with picking off flakes of glitter from your forearm.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" you ask, a little apprehensive of the answer you could get.

Jeongguk's grip on you doesn't ease. He keeps you close, for fear of you wanting to leave. He won't stop you, if you do, but he wants you to know that he wouldn't like that. Wants you close, even if his past actions might push you away.

He sighs. Inhales. Loves the scent of your shampoo. Your sheets. You . Your smell , his brain corrects. Loves the way you smell. Not you. God no. Fuck. No. Not at all-

"Hm?" You encourage a response, knowing that Jeongguk is probably letting his thoughts get away from him.

When things get intimate, Jeongguk's thoughts tend to go awry. He voices the most unhinged shit he thinks of, just because he can. Says stuff he'd never dream of saying otherwise.

Contrarily, in moments of vulnerability (though his thoughts are very much still awry) he stays silent. It's a curious contradiction, but one you've grown used to. You don't mind it. Understand it. Understand him.

Eventually, he speaks up. "You really wanna know?"

Sitting, you twist your body to face his. Back against your bedroom wall, you pull your legs up to your chest. "Mhhm."

Your body language says 'absolutely not', and Jeongguk knows this. Sits up too. Lets your duvet pool around his impossibly slim waist, abs on show, and the freckle on his ribs that you adore so much says 'hello'. A teeny tiny tummy roll (thanks to how awfully he's been eating during exam season) reminds you that he's still human. Still lovely, regardless. Lovely, and warm, and a little forlorn in his gaze.

It doesn't linger on you. Drops to his fingers, which twiddle in his lap. He shakes his head, hair waving ever so delicately around his pretty features. His lips part. Words try to come out. Silence prevails.

"I already know," you say quietly, to which his eyes find you again. You're looking down, now. He hates this. Hates that it's his actions that have caused it. "I mean, I don't know know. I just know something happened with Hayun."

"How?" he asks quietly. He's not rude, nor confrontational. Just curious.

You shrug. "Intuition?"

Got a shit-bag ex who taught me all the warning signs, your brain corrects you.

He seems to accept this answer, so you don't elaborate.

He's quite forthcoming, when he admits to the truth. States it plainly, just like he did with Jimin.

"She kissed me."

"When?" You ask, wanting a timeline. Thinks it might help you understand his thought process if you know the steps that led him to your apartment that night. "Where?"

He battles with his mind for a moment, but his heart wins. Honesty is owed.

"Um, like, outside. The courtyard area-"

"New years," you say quietly, not to interrupt, just to connect dots in your own head. It's embarrassing, the way shame drowns you out. It's like you're spluttering for air, but in reality, you're stoic. Not moving a muscle.

"New years," he echoes. Hates this.Wishes the conversation would just stop. Knows it can't. "We were talking and-"

"I don't need the ins and outs," you interrupt, suddenly changing your mind.

Now that he's giving you specifics, it's just making you feel worse.

That's the most confusing part, you think. You've been feeling fine about things - and yet now, seeing his guilt? Makes you feel like maybe you should feel awful, too.

Jeongguk looks down. Purses his lips. "I know. I just don't want you getting the wrong impression."

"My impression is that you kissed Hayun and then came and fucked me," you sigh, bitterly disappointed. It's exactly what you've been assuming ever since that night, but the confirmation still stings.

"No, see, that is the wrong impression, B," Jeongguk stresses. You're so casual and flippant about things, but Jeongguk knows it was anything but. "It wasn't as linear as that. I know it sounds shitty-"

"It does."

"-But it really wasn't like that at all."

It doesn't matter.

You feel like a cheap consolation prize, regardless. Sort of like Jeongguk only came to you because Hayun decided she didn't want him after all.

It's stupid really. Your pride is getting in the way of things. Your disdain for Hayun? Even more so.

If he explained the what, the when, the why, the who, the how, you'd know that Jeongguk really didn't mean to make so many bad decisions. The only good decision that night, he thinks, was coming to see you - but even that, he managed to fuck right up.

The thing that pushed Jeongguk to leave Dionysus that night?

Wasn't Hayun. Wasn't Danbi rightfully giving him a piece of her mind. Wasn't any of that.

It was a choice that he had made earlier in the night.

Sick of his eyes searching for you in the crowd and always drawing blanks, Jeongguk had gone searching for you. Yeonjun had no clue where you were at this point, and had suggested maybe you'd already left.

You hadn't. Were just in the girls bathroom with Danbi, and some college girls who were in awe of the glitter (so naturally, you were turning them into glitter girlies too, free of charge).

Nonethewiser, Jeongguk tried his luck dipping from the club and heading to the next street over to where the arcade was. Less than a minute walk. Again, you were nowhere to be found - but the machine you had been at was currently free of punters.

Sure, maybe he spent a little too long trying to win the My Melody plushie, but he was drunk , and it felt important . He almost gave up after he got the Cinnamoroll, but couldn't. Had convictions. Was determined. Was gonna get your stupid, adorable plushie no matter what.

And he did.

Of course he did.

He's Jeongguk. There's nothing he can't do, when his heart's really in it.

Looked for you upon his return. Didn't realise you were still in the bathrooms, this time consoling a girl who had just seen her boyfriend kissing one of her friends. Classic, really. A little liquor and so many men seem to think that cheating is okay. Will cry about it being a mistake, but you know damn well the mistake is getting caught in the act, not the act itself.

His final port of call had been the staff room. Tossed the plushie down on the sofa. Sighed. Lamented the way things had changed since you'd last been together in Dionysus. Knew it was all his fault. Wondered if it was really worth it.

If Hayun was worth it.

He knows the answer, now. Had to experience it to really be sure, but he already knew. Deep down, he always has done.

But she'd entered the staff room when he was all sad and doe-eyed over you, and convinced herself that maybe it was her making him feel this way. Invited him to get some air. He'd needed a friend. Had lied to himself so well about the nature of the relationship that she was only ever a friend, he had seemed to think maybe she was. Maybe it'd be good to talk with her.

Lessons have been learned. Mistakes made. Decisions done.

"Should have told you first, I know," he says quietly, eyes on his hands. Looks up at you. Wishes you would look at him. "I'm sorry, Byeol. I'm sorry, and if I could re-do the events of that night, I would - butI I can't, so. This is where we're at. Fucked up, then I fucked you. Kinda poetic, in a way."

You snort out a disapproving laugh. "Yeah, if you were a teenager on tumblr in 2014."

"Not even gonna pretend to know what that is," he says, genuinely clueless to what a tumblr is, and why 2014 is relevant. "But B, we both know I didn't come here that night with the intention of fucking you, I never... Look, I'm sorry that I let it happen. All I can do is promise you that it won't happen again."

Men have promised they'd move mountains for you before. You'll believe it when you see it.

"What won't happen again?" you ask, a little petulantly. "You fucking me, or you kissing Hayun?"

Being childish right now will do no one any favours.

Will make you feel vindicated for a split second, mind you.

"Well..." Jeongguk begins, but stops himself from finishing.

He means Hayun.

Is done with it. Done with her.

Hates what's become of your friendship since her return. The loss of your closeness aches more than the residual pining feelings for her have ached in the last year. The way he once felt about her is not representative of who he is now.

"Well?"

"Well, kissing is intimate," Jeongguk says with a curt sense of authority. He's speaking your opinions as if they're universal truths.

"It is," you agree.

"I don't really think it's appropriate to be intimate with a girl my best friend hates."

"Hate is a strong word," you say, hiding a smile.

"I think it's just the right strength, here."

You know what Jeongguk is saying. He's speaking in tongues, but you're well acquainted with his. It's easy to decipher.

Yet you're an insolent little brat when you want to be, and so you twist his words. Not to be malicious, just to get confirmation.

"Hayun told me she was your best friend," you tell him. "And I'm pretty sure she hates me, so... you're saying we shouldn't kiss?"

"You rarely ever let me kiss you anyways, B," Jeongguk reminds you with a fond smile. Thinks he'd settle with never kissing you again if it meant he still got to banter with you. "But no, you idiot. Hayun says a lot of shit. You shouldn't listen to her. You're my best friend."

He's heard it with his own ears. Had always shrugged her mean comments off. Hasn't been able to shake the way he heard her speak about you. Tried, for a while. Just ended up making him feel like a shitty friend.

You deserve people in your corner. If Danbi was acting like besties with someone who had been cruel about you, he'd be pissed off. Thinks she had every right to criticise him in the way she had on that evening.

Despite being at his little party last night, Danbi had barely spoken to him.

Had looked at his neck. Raised her brows. Asked, "Well, are you being nice to her? I sure hope you are. And I sure hope those are from her, otherwise you're in for a world of pain, my friend," and then walked away before Jeongguk could even reply.

Danbi scares him.

Is pretty sure she scares Tae, too, but he seems to get off on that. To each their own, and all that.

"B, I don't wanna fight with you," he says, holding out his hand.

For reasons you can't, or simply won't, explain, you accept it. Toy with his fingers as your hands rest on top of your duvet. Trace his knuckles. Admire his tattoos. Relish in the serenity of him.

"Don't wanna fight, either," you sigh. Glance up at him, only to realise he's looking at you with such crestfallen need for forgiveness that it feels like the only thing you can do. "And, hey, maybe it was good. Me being mad at you gave me a little push in the right direction."

"Oh?" Jeongguk questions. His skin feels all hot. Prickly. He doesn't like it. "How so?"

You think nothing of it as you admit to the date you had last night. Jeongguk asks for his name. Nods when you tell him it. Asks for specifics. His career path - "sounds boring" ; his hobbies - "meh" ; his charms - "I have a dimple, too. See? Look, and I get dimples when I smile like this, too!"

As you're explaining the night before, Jeongguk is hunting for one of his shirts amongst your clothes. Says he wants to get a drink from the convenience store.

In reality, he just doesn't wanna have to look you in the eyes, just in case they sparkle for Seojoon.

"You're too competitive for your own good, Gguk," you laugh. "I'm not gonna ditch you for another guy. Unlike some of us , I'll keep my best friend around even if I do fall disastrously in love."

"Okay, one - I kept you around!" He protests, rummaging through the clothes on your desk chair for one of his shirts. There's definitely one in the pile. You're sure of it. "Two - who said anything about love ? I wasn't! Are you going to be in love?!"

Jeongguk can never really hide his emotions. He tries. Really hard. Always fails. His competitive edge is showing now in a way that it never has done before. He really is feeling threatened by Seojoon.

He's stupid, you think. You're not gonna ditch him. Would miss him too much.

Sure, you'll need to iron out the nature of your sleepovers, but that'll just be a small change - and fuck ! You've only been on one date. Hardly falling in love, are you?

"No!" You laugh. "Christ, Gguk. It's only been one date."

"But there's gonna be more?" He asks, still rummaging. Has already found a shirt. Just doesn't wanna face you right now. "You're gonna see him again?"

"Well maybe," you admit. "I don't know yet. He hasn't asked."

Jeongguk pretends like he isn't satisfied with that answer.

Again, he fails to compel this narrative. The little hum he chirps gives him away.

But then he's thinking about the reason you went on that stupid date in the first place, and wants to explain himself again. Really wants you to know how shitty he feels about it.

"About the Hayun stuff," Jeongguk begins, glancing over to you, but you just shake your head.

"Why waste your time explaining it away?" You ask with a small shrug and eyes so sincere Jeongguk thinks you could end world wars. Eyes he thinks he'd go to war for .

Silly thoughts, for a silly boy, who's engaging in silly conversations that makes his heart feel anything but silly.

It feels serious. Stern. Secure in his understanding of his feelings, but too scared to do anything about them. Especially now.

"I don't love your choices," you continue, not trying to be critical, but wanting him to understand why you aren't lingering on the situation. "But we learn from our bad decisions, no? We make mistakes so that in future we can make things right."

"It doesn't mean I shouldn't feel bad about it," he says quietly, eyes down.

"Well, what will beating yourself up about it do? Will just make you feel crappy - and like, don't get me wrong, I think you deserve to feel shitty for fucking me without telling me-"

"I do."

"But I'm not hung up on it," you stress. Really, you're not. "You feeling bad about it will make me feel like I should feel bad about it."

If Jeongguk was elated about his choices, enthusing about Hayun, then yes - you'd feel awful.

Thing is, his distress is written all over his pouty little face. There's nothing about even kissing her that he seems to enjoy. Not anymore.

Or at least, even if he liked it in the moment, the aftermath seems to have catapulted him into a near-permanent state of disgust. That's enough to make you feel alright about things.

"Okay," you sigh when you see his frown hasn't eased up. "Tell me one thing: do you still want her?"

The way Jeongguk recoils with a crease between his brows almost instantly says it all.

"Christ, B. No. Obviously not"

Cherry on top.

"Well, I mean she can have you," you tease, pleased to be smiling through such a conversation. Progress has been made.

"I don't want her," he insists, and it really does boost your ego.

"Should have thought about that then, shouldn't you?" You smirk with a raised brow.

Jeongguk throws his shirt at you. Whines. "Cut me some slack, B. I said I'm sorry."

The conversation dissolves into nothingness - Jeongguk asking you what you want from the shop, and you asking him what he wants to watch on Netflix when he gets back. Will only be gone for a few minutes, but it'll give you a chance to breathe and process the morning's revelations.

He slips on a pair of your jeans - mom cut, and shrugs when he looks in the mirror. Thinks they don't look too bad. A bit baggy, and loose on his hips thanks to your curves, but nothing that a belt can't solve. For a quick run to the shop? They're fine. Will do the job. Saves him from wearing sweats again, and given his near-constant state of boner this morning, sweats are not a wise idea.

The waistband of his Calvins peek out from the top of the jeans, framing his hips like they're a work of art deserving a place in the Louvre.

You sort of think they are. Think he's got a body that deserves to be admired. Worshipped. Appreciated. Know that you're more than capable of doing all of those things.

"Take a picture," he smirks, when he catches you looking.

You're unashamed.

Sure, your cheeks blush a little bit, but you just keep drinking in the sight of him. So often his body is shrouded in darkness when your hands are running over it - but you can see him, now. See the ridges of his abs, and the way they move ever so gently as he exerts a little energy.

Nodding towards the shelf just behind him, where your old polaroid sits prettily amongst some other tat, you smirk right back. "Gimmie it and I will."

You expect shyness - and get shyness, Jeongguk's smile a little scrunched as a soft giggle escapes his lips - but you don't expect for him to actually reach over for it.

"How do you work this thi- oh!" He exclaims as he presses down on the button that extends the lens.

It's not a proper polaroid, just an old instax that has seen better days, but it does the job well enough for you not to trade it in.

Honestly, you rarely use it these days. Maybe once a year, if you're lucky. You've no idea if it has any film in it - but as Jeongguk points it towards you, not bothering to adjust the exposure settings ('cause he doesn't realise it's needed) and presses down on the shutter button, it's confirmed that there is, indeed, still film in it.

"Oh, shit," he laughs, as if he wasn't the one who very deliberately took a photo.

He's not that stupid. He knows how cameras work. The mechanical whir as the photograph pushes itself out of the slot is nostalgic; a reminder of times that were simple.

He shakes the polaroid a little as he passes the camera over to you, looking at the empty photograph with a small pout.

"Takes a couple of minutes," you explain. "Put it on my desk, let it develop."

He does as he's told, believing you without hesitation. You've honestly no idea what you're supposed to do while they process.

Shake it - no! Don't shake it. Keep it out of the light. No! Give it light! No put it in the light for a minute only.

Everything you've ever been told about polaroids has been contradictory, and you enjoy the chaos too much to actually figure things out.

Holding the polaroid camera to your eye, you're smiling as Jeongguk decides to pose like an absolute tool. Muscles tensed, arms up in swan position, he looks like he's trying to compete for a place in Men's Health magazine.

"You're so stupid," you murmur affectionately.

"Stupid hot ," he corrects.

"Mmm," you hum as you press down on the shutter button, a flash lighting up your room. "Like a real-life Calvin Klein model."

He pings the top of his briefs against his skin with a teasing wiggle of his brows.

"Careful, or you'll speak it into existence," he assures you. "And then everyone will want me."

"So?" You laugh. "Am I supposed to feel threatened?"

Jeongguk's met many girls in his lifetime. Watched many on screen, and seen just as many in magazines. Gorgeous women. Beautiful women. The kind of women he'd be lucky to have - and yet, if were to be honest about his feelings for once in his damn life, he'd say 'no' .

No Hollywood star could ever compare to his star.

Instead, he deflects.

"Threatened? Huh," he smirks. Shakes his head to the side, like a dog with an itch. He's quite puppy-like, when you think about it. All doe-eyed and charming. Exquisitely cuddly and notoriously boisterous. Cute - and yet that smirk of his? The toned muscles of his chest? Sin . "You jealous?"

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. "I'm not the jealous type."

Jeongguk presses his lips together, still smiling. Nods. Eyes sparkling, his tongue toys with his lip ring a little, the freckle beneath his bottom lip on full display.

Shakes his head. "I think that's a lie."

Oh, how insufferably right he is - but you're not gonna give him the satisfaction, even if you're both well aware of it.

"I've never been jealous in my life," you say with a small giggle as Jeongguk prowls towards the bed. You lift the polaroid to your eye, and press down on the shutter button once more.

He doesn't imagine it's a great angle.

He's wrong.

"No?" He flirts, taking the camera from your hands as he gets himself between your legs.

He's sitting on his knees, with his thighs hooked beneath your legs. The hand that isn't holding your camera - the tattooed one - pushes the shirt you're wearing up a little. Reveals your underwear, and the bottom of your cute little tummy. There's a softness to you that he likes. Gets him hard .

"Shame," he shrugs. "I get jealous."

"I could tell," you assure him, as if your heart isn't beating a mile a minute. Something about Jeongguk like this - half-dressed, Calvins, body on show just for you - really gets you all hot and bothered.

The tips of his fingers stroke your skin, until they meet the top of your lace underwear. His thumb dips. Presses down on your clit, the thin piece of material the only obstruction.

You gasp, because of course you do, and Jeongguk feels vindicated. Thinks he'll never need to be jealous, 'cause no one is ever gonna make you feel like he does. Knows that he'll try his goddamn hardest to keep things as they are right now, 'cause he's had a taste of what it could feel like to lose you.

He doesn't want that - and yet he feels the need to preserve things as they are, just in case. Knows that Seojoon exists, and doesn't like the prospect of what that could mean for the future.

He raises the camera to his eye. Looks down at you.

"Chess?" He asks, giving you the option of an 'out' that only the two of you understand.

"You finally gonna teach me how to play?" You banter back, knowing that he wasn't asking you to play. He's checking consent before he presses on the shutter button.

It will produce just a single image. One for you to keep; proof that once upon a time, Jeon Jeongguk had touched you so indecently angels would weep. The sins you commit with him feel like heaven on earth, so how could they blame you? You're sure when you reach the pearly gates, they'll understand - though heaven wouldn't really be worth it, you think. Not when you've already experienced Nirvana with him.

"Not if you don't want me to," he says, his intentions thinly veiled as he lowers the camera to look at you.

There's innocence in his dark eyes; an elixir you just want to bottle up to preserve for a rainy day. His thumb is still pressed against your most intimate of areas, languid in its subtle movements, just to remind he's there. Willing. Wanting. Waiting.

"So chess, or no chess?"

He's too far away for your hands to reach him properly, so you simply tap beneath his hand to encourage the camera further up, indicating that he should realign it with his sight.

"No chess."

Slow as he makes sure he's got the perfect angle, Jeongguk presses deeper against you. Has you humming in anticipation of more substantial touches.

The camera flashes, a mechanical buzz accompanying your bated breaths. He can't have captured much, you think, knowing the camera well. Will likely just be his hand, probably, and the part of you it was taking ownership of.

The photo begins to slide out of the slot at the top of the camera, but Jeongguk's hands are full. He nips the edge with his teeth. Pulls it out. Keeps it there. Realigns the camera. Lets go of your pussy to push your shirt up your stomach.

"Up," he instructs, teeth gritted thanks to the polaroid, letting you take over the removal of your shirt. Your body is bare, save for the pair of underwear he's been toying with, your chest now his to play with - but he doesn't. Not really. Just holds one of your tits in his firm grip. Tells you to hold the other one. You comply. The camera flashes again.

He spits the polaroid between his teeth to the side. It's developing now. He doesn't dare look at it. Another, arguably worse one is printing out anyways. Again, his teeth nip at the edge and pull it out.

"You'll use all the film," you say softly, a fondness to the way you're scolding him. He discards the polaroid between his teeth, a smile on his pretty lips.

"I'll buy you more," he says as his hand strokes up your chest and sinks to where your bird should be. "Still missing a necklace."

Oh, on the contrary, you think.

"Shame."

Camera still by his eye, Jeongguk lines up the perfect shot: the top of your chest, collarbones sparkling in your bedroom light, his hand wrapped around the base of your throat. Careful not to include your face, he thinks it's a shame. Would have quite liked your pouty lips as part of the picture, too.

He squeezes his hand as the camera flashes.

Pulling the polaroid out with his fingers this time, he shakes it gently. Finds the other photos scattered around your body and tosses them in a neat pile beside your bed.

"Gimmie," you say, scrunching your hands out in a bid to retrieve the camera. There's no protest. He sort of wants you to take pictures of him, too.

Wants evidence that you once wanted him as badly as he seems to want you.

"Where do you want me?" He asks, a little shy now the camera is back on him.

Aligning focus, you hold out your hand, and let the tips of your fingers trail down the ridges of his torso. Jeongguk glances down to watch your hand, so focused on your dainty touches that he barely even notices the flash going off.

"Only two shots left," you say quite contently as you perch the camera on your bedside table, the polaroid still printing. You'll check it later. "Should save them for something important."

He raises a brow. Looks genuinely confused. "Your tits are important."

With a laugh, you shake your head, hair tangling against your pillow. Cupping your tits for a little support (and warmth) you simply say, "not if you're an ass guy."

Jeongguk's whole entire face scrunches up, to the point where his lip ring does the thing, but you can't focus on it. He looks too cute. Stroking the tops of your thighs adoringly, Jeongguk sighs.

"Look, I'm not saying I'm not an ass guy anymore, but, like - shit , B."

He reaches up to rest his hands over yours, but you slide yours out so that his are making direct contact with your tits. Putting your hands back on top of his, you encourage him to squeeze them, which earns you a whine from his prettily pouted lips.

"Love your tits. Absolutely corrupted me, they have."

"I know," you say smugly. "You're welcome."

"I'm not thanking you," he laughs, rolling your nipples between his fingers. The arching of your back gets his cock throbbing. You're so easy to work up. So is he, though. "Ruined me."

He loves your laugh, but loves it catching in your throat as he spanks the soft flesh of your chest even more so.

He doesn't let the sting linger; soothes your skin immediately. Mutters to himself, with a shake of his head. "Absolutely ruined."

"Careful," you tease. "Or I'll start thinking you're a tit guy."

"I'll eat your ass just to prove I'm not," he banters back - but then you twist beneath him. Get on your front. Ass up for him, just how he likes.

"Alright, then," you challenge.

"B," he husks, gripping onto your ass with one hand and stroking down your arched back with the other. Poised so that you can see the mirror across the room, there's something sordid about watching Jeongguk like this.

Desire becomes him. There's nothing about his mind, body nor soul that doesn't want you in this moment, and it's written all over his skin. He has to have you. Will simply die if he can't.

"Yeah?" You reply sweetly, and he just knows you're gonna be in one of those moods - a mood he loves, but a mood he knows is no good for the way you make his heart beat these days.

"Behave yourself," he husks. "We both know we shouldn't."

It hasn't been discussed, but he's got a point. You know you should be practising a little more self-restraint.

"I won't tell if you don't."

His grip gets tighter. Jiggles your soft flesh a little. Gets him gritting his teeth. Cursing.

Your body jolts forward as he spanks you, just once. It's so satisfying.

"Shouldn't play with your food before you eat it," you smirk, knowing just the way to wind him up.

Yeah, Jeongguk thinks to himself. You're definitely one of those moods.

It's the bratty type. The 'wind him up just because it's fun' type - but two can play at that game.

"Want me to eat it, huh?" He husks.

"Mhmm," you whine a little as he massages your skin.

His hands are strong, but his determination to not let your brattiness win? Oh, even more so.

"God, you're filthy for me, aren't you baby?" He husks. Knows how much baby gets you. Uses it deliberately.

"Mhmm," is all you can whine in anticipation of something, anything, to relieve the ache in your pussy. Have been horny all week, but unable to act upon it without thinking about him - and you were mad at him. Didn't wanna be thinking about him at all, let alone as you came.

"My pretty little slut, aren't you?" He praises, fingers toying with your lace underwear. The slickness of your pussy seeps through the fabric. Gets him all wet and dirty, just how he likes it. "Cunt just begging to be fucked, but it's your ass you want eaten."

"Koo," you whine .

He's rarely ever mean in bed, but it always gets you even hornier than usual when he is. It's the juxtaposition, you think. A man as kind and charming as Jeongguk should not be as unhinged as you know he truly is.

"What have I told you about calling me that?" He laughs. "Don't fuckin' do it."

It's not that he doesn't like it. In fact, it's quite the opposite. He likes it too much.

"Why not?" You ask, because again, it's one of those moods - so Jeongguk decides that if you wanna fuck with him, he's gonna fuck with you instead.

"'Cause you're gonna address me properly, aren't you, baby?" He says, thankful you aren't looking at him, 'cause a smile is tugging at his lips.

He's got a plan. Doesn't know if you'll play along. Hopes you will. Knows that there's no way you'll fuck him if it goes right - and that's sort of what he's hoping for. The pair of you simply have no self-control, so he's trying to create some.

"What am I gonna call you?" You whine as he rubs over your panties with his long fingers.

"What do you think, baby?" he teases. "Use that pretty little head of yours, baby girl."

God. You're gonna die.

"Koo," you whine, because of course you do. There's only one name that compliments baby girl - and you don't wanna say it.

What you do want? Right now? Is for Jeongguk to fuck you so hard it makes you booking the entire day off worth it.

"Uh, uh, baby," he says as he holds your cunt. Absolutely takes ownership of it. Gets you all whimpery and whiney - and when he starts being nice? Oh, fuck . You're done for. Death imminent. "Use that pretty, perfect brain of yours. You're so smart, aren't you? You know what to call me."

Jeongguk would be lying if he said his cock wasn't throbbing. Your mom jeans - the ones that were baggy - appear tight now, thanks to his hardness.

You take a second. Assess how much dignity you stand to lose from 'addressing him properly', and decide you're too horny to care.

"You think I'm smart, Daddy?"

Glorious , Jeongguk thinks. Not the name. Just that he managed to get you to say it, and mean it. His power knows no bounds. This is fucking fantastic .

"There you go, baby girl," he praises, pushing your panties to the side so that he can get a good look at just how messy you are. He thinks he'll die almost immediately. "So smart. You like being smart for me, don't you?"

You can't believe you're gonna say it again. And yet -

"Yes, Daddy," you nod into your pillows, 'cause the anticipation of Jeongguk doing something - anything - to your pussy right now is simply too much.

" Too smart, almost. I'm gonna have to fuck you so hard you can't think straight," he tells you. Smirks to himself. His breathy laugh echoes around the room. "Gonna be a dumb slut on my cock, aren't you?"

"Fuck," you moan, not willing to subject yourself to another 'daddy' - but Jeongguk pushes his luck.

"Who?" he insists. "Who you gonna be fucking?"

You roll your eyes, not that he can see it. Can't believe you're doing this. Can't believe you kinda like it, either. "You, Daddy."

"Hmm," Jeongguk hums with great satisfaction, giving you a very gentle but curt spank, before rolling back down beside you.

You're confused. Worried .

And then Jeongguk is chuckling to himself. "That was easier than I thought."

You sit up instantly.

Mouth ajar, you turn your head judgmentally, reaching a conclusion that is gonna earn Jeongguk the bluest balls he's ever had. You'll make sure of it.

"What?!"

"What?" He smirks right back.

"That was easy? " You question, still confused, but also aware that despite the raging boner he has, a fuck is not what he's after.

Maybe he wants to be blue balled.

Weirdo.

"Yeah," he smirks, then fucking giggles to himself. "I got you calling me Daddy . God, you're so willing to do anything for my cock, B. It's so cute."

His smile prevails as he giggles, finding much amusement in playing you at your own bratty game.

"Oh my God," you wail. "I fucking hate you! You know I hate 'Daddy'."

"And yet you'll do it for my cock," he laughs even harder, now. "Oh, it's adorable. Really really sweet."

"I'm ending our friendship."

"No you aren't," he tells you, reaching for your wrist to pull you back down into your sheets with him - and for reasons you (again) don't care to explain, you just let him.

"I am," you assure him, even though you're kinda now snuggling into him.

"Don't disobey your daddy, baby," he jokes.

"I'll send him to an early grave if he isn't careful," you warn, but it only cracks him up even more.

"So you admit it?" he teases. "I am your Daddy?"

"Oh my God!"

"I'm your God, too? Wow, you really are being kind today-"

He's interrupted by your dainty hands covering his mouth. "Shut your face."

Jeongguk just laughs. Knows he'll probably just make it up to you with a quick fuck, if you let him.

The cursed thing about it all?

You probably will let him.

'Cause even though you hate Daddy, and you hate feeling embarrassed, and you hate not understanding your feelings, you do understand that nothing feels quite as calm as the aftermath of time spent in bed with Jeongguk.

It's the orgasms, you tell yourself. He makes you calm when he makes you cum. There's probably a science behind it. You're not gonna google it, 'cause you don't wanna be proven wrong.

"Put a shirt on," you huff. "You're paying for the snacks this time. You owe me, like, I don't know. Three weeks worth of snacks for that little stunt."

And so when Jeongguk returns from the shop a little while later, you're pleased to see he really did buy enough snacks to last at least a month, if not longer.

"Was meaning to ask you," Jeongguk says as he unpacks one of the bags while you scroll through the Netflix home page. "When are you next in work?"

You're yet to tell him you booked the day off because of his exam. Now Wednesday, you have Thursdays off as usual. The Friday shift pattern changes most weeks depending on who needs it off, but this week, you've managed to get it off, too. Saturday will be your first shift.

"Well," Jeongguk says. "I missed a bunch of family events 'cause I was studying all the time. I'm probably gonna head over to Busan this evening just to show my face for a night or two. Keep mum happy."

"That's cute," you smile. "She'll appreciate it, I'm sure."

He nods. Knows she will. Feels bad for being a bit of a shitty son in the last few weeks.

"I know things have been a bit mad with Tae's shows, and just... Well, everything," Jeongguk staggers his words, a little unsure of himself. For once, he fears your rejection.

"Mhmm," you agree. "Been crazy."

"Yeah," he nods. "Sea air helps, though. You wanna come with?"

"To Busan?" you clarify.

For some reason, it feels like your heart is in your throat. You might throw it up entirely.

"To Busan," he reinforces. Turns to face you. "With me. Busan. You wanna come?"

"Do you want me to come?" You ask, not wanting to be a charity case 'cause he feels bad about the whole 'Daddy' thing.

Jeongguk doesn't feel bad about the 'Daddy' thing in the slightest. He genuinely just wants you to come with him.

"I'll get bored on the drive if I'm alone," he shrugs. "Plus mum keeps asking why I don't have a girlfriend yet and if I introduce her to someone as repulsive as you, maybe she'll stop insisti-

"Oh fuck you," you laugh. "Mothers love me."

"Yeah, sure they do," he teases, knowing full well his mum will think you're the greatest thing he's brought home since his first-grade report card.

"I'll prove you wrong," you say, not that you have to. Jeongguk is just winding you up. "Your mum is gonna like me more than she likes you."

"So you're gonna come with?"

You bite down on your bottom lip. Ignore the conventions of a relationship that are looming over the pair of you both. Nod.

"Yeah. I'll come with."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[dylanisdazed]

ok hey im drunk heres some dreams i had last night

first of all, idk where this came from or even how it started but i need you to look up wire cutting clay.

ok did you google that or youtube that?

so...this authoritarian entity was taking people and they would draw a line down the forehead, down the bridge of the nose, then across the mouth and down the side of mouth to sort of create a puzzle piece of the face......

then this super sharp wire came down and sliced their heads 😐😮😟😲😲🤮🤢🤮🤕🤮🤢🤮🤢

it was so gross and scary. they said they did it in a way to keep most of the brain intact to keep people alive.....

and then i was renovating this big house by myself and i was telling my mom how scared i was about the slicing and she was like "Oh Dylie, don't be silly. Our money will keep us safe." 😂🤣 WHAT MONEY MOM? but also i felt better and continued renovating this huge house i had apparently. They also made children bungee jump from a 140 story building and it was designed to snap so it killed them.

Anyway

THEN, I was flown out to the desert, it was so beautiful it was like Colorado adjacent and there was all this orange terrain and pretty blue sky. It was a new company. It doesn't make sense but it was like this HUGE reservoir of QUALITY red wine but also water? So we had this really good red wine and could also bottle water but the bubbles made it toxic idk. Anyway, I was really concerned about it being toxic and selling it to people and they were like we produce 500 million gallons of wine a second, we will be SO rich and they wanted to hire me and I was conflicted but I was like okay well can we at least invest a lot of money into hiding the fact its toxic and also find a scapegoat if anyone finds out?

SO THEN

They hire me as Vice President, the owner Tori, LOVED me. She was like your so cute and you have great ideas. I told her I still felt conflicted so I needed a BIG salary and also i would only work 1 day per 7 days off. They agreed and so I took the job. It took me like a month to fly to New York from there because I flew one day, then had to take a week off, then fly again then take a week off then have a meeting then take a week off, etc.

In the wine reservoir they had these HUGE turbines down below the water like way deep and they would offer scuba / diving tours. WELL, they only really did that to people they didn't like and they would guide them INTO the turbines to be chopped into little bits. I was horrified. However, not by the murder more so because I enjoyed the wine. I was like I DONT WANAN DRINK THIS WITH TINY HUMAN BITS AND BLOOD IN IT! They were like this reservoir is like 10 trillion gallons a few humans aren't gonna matter but i was still disgusted so I came up with an idea to bottle a Luxury brand of the wine that was in a separate reservoir that we could charge more for and there would be no bits. I'm a genius!

Anyway, this is how my brain works

bye

[saviorkid]

la libertà

I lost the request for this one :(( but it was basically about a fluff phoebe x reader

Fem!reader x Phoebe bridgers, mostly fluff

REMINDER!!!! my first language is not english, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes 💘

I felt the gentle breeze hitting my skin as I watched the sea, on that balcony that would remain engraved in my heart for the rest of my days.

I took a deep breath

Is this a dream?

I could smell the soft smell of ocean salt and the sun stinging my skin and that's how I felt and I felt something that characterized those little vacations in southern Italy; The freedom

or I most to say la libertá

Lost in that landscape, I suddenly felt the warmth of her body hugging my back

"Good morning" she said in a hoarse voice

I answered a very shyly 'hi'

I could still feel the nerves of that first time I saw her, even though we had already been a couple for a long time.

She kissed my neck with tenderness because of my obvious embarrassment.

She loved to joke about my shyness, and I very proudly said that it bothered me when in reality it made me melt over her

"You got up early today, aren't you tired from last night" she said with that playful tone that characterized her

she laughed when I responded with a little smack.

"I just wanted to see the sunrise for the last time".

Today was our last day in Positano, a lovely village in the Amarfil coast and it was a total dream.

This vacation were actually our first ones after a long distance relationship because of Phoebe's tour with the boys

I actually can put on words how magic was this trip with her, I think I could never get ove-

"Babe? are you alive? " Phoebe ask with a little laugh

"Yes yes, sorry. What were you saying?"

"I asked you what do you wanted to do for our last day"

"oh, I actually don't know yet... but" I told her as I slowly turned my body to look into her eyes in a hug

She looked at my with so much love and also with with a confused face

"But?"

I give her a little kiss and said

"The only thing that I want it's you and me on that bed..."

"Oh yes?" She seemed very interested in my idea

"Yep" I said and gave hee a long kiss that ended up being a little more intense than I thought and I cut it off to tell her

"Yes, you and me im bed eating some pancakes"

I swear I almost saw the disappointment until she understood what I said and smiled flirtatiously.

"Yes, if it's that what my ragazza wants"

I kissed her quickly and ran to the kitchen searching for the ingredients

and as I began to prepare the pancakes I saw her silhouette next to the door, still without seeing her.

I felt the little smile in her face

¿Do you want them with syrup ? I asked her

"I think that question is illegal" She said as she sat at the small kitchen bar that connected to the living room

“Here they are” I said and left the plates on the table. "Thanks love"

We enjoyed the comfortable silence of our breakfast while we tried those pancakes. Everything felt soft and surreal, neither of the two wanted to break that bubble of love and warmth in that apartment.

Phoebe looked at me for a while and simply took my hand and pulled me into the room.

I felt confused but I let myself go with it

Phoebe just lay down on the bed and softly said "Come here" as she hit the bed.I laughed as I looked at her in confusion.

I lay down on the bed and hugged her. "I think someone has been bitten by the love bug."

She didn't say anything and simply hugged my nakedness, which was very common for both of us but this time she felt different.It felt like one of those moments that stays etched in your heart. And she just said it, like it was nothing, like there was no fear of feeling it.

"I love you"

There was silence for a few minutes, insecurity had taken over me and I thought it was a little joke. But when I had the strength to look into her eyes I could see the love and her fear, and that's when I knew.

we were in love

A true love

They tipe of love that would leave marks on our bodies

So I kissed her, I kissed her like I had never done before. Leaving fears and insecurities behind, I only wanted her.

So i said it

"I love you, And I don't think I've ever felt anything like that for anyone else."

OMG?!

my first fic *crying*

I actually believe that it's I think it's bullshit but I tried it 🥺Thank you very much for the anon

XOXO, vic