#and for watching the videos i'm so glad you enjoy them! <3

[queerasfolkgifs]

Hey everyone! So it's been an embarrassingly long hiatus, but I've finally had time to edit again, and so I'll be posting my QAF breakdowns for each episode on TV Takes again! Here's the video for 1x07, Smells Like Codependence. I hope you enjoy, and I'm really sorry about the long break, hopefully that won't happen again 😅

[hoseoksluna]

STEAM | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 9.2k

summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam

warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names

note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3

The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.

He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.

You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.

And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.

The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.

But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.

It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.

Showers with him are something else.

Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.

That has become your new version of hot long showers.

And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.

You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.

That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.

You feel him everywhere.

You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.

Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch. 

That’s a good girl. Messy for me. 

The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.

It’s a part of the solo girl's night.

A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.

You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—

A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.

You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.

He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is. 

Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.

Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully. 

His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses. 

Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth. 

He is not, in fact, on his way home. 

It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy. 

You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny. 

Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.” 

He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?” 

The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display. 

He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.” 

Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself. 

Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen. 

Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking. 

A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do? 

It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice. 

You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on. 

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.” 

Naked. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.” 

And with that, he hangs up. 

The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you. 

You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend. 

His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form. 

Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer. 

Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience? 

The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad. 

Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you. 

What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done? 

You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you. 

That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.

Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer. 

By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.

You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you. 

The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had. 

The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to. 

Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all. 

The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream— 

“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”

Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment? 

Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call? 

“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person. 

Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult. 

You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there. 

This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—

“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.” 

It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred. 

Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body. 

A healer with big, round eyes. A good man. 

With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”

It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.

You made Yoongi drink a lot of water. 

And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober. 

He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross. 

So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially. 

Was it out of the question or would he consider it? 

Your leg jitters harder. 

You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin. 

“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.” 

He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion. 

You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—

Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek. 

“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?” 

You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one? 

You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks. 

“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness. 

And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. 

“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.” 

You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?” 

Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”

You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did. 

Your arousal returns at full speed.

“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently. 

You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side. 

“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.” 

He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?” 

You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself. 

Yoongi coos. “Good girl.” 

A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you. 

“Can I feel how wet you are?” 

A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.” 

You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted. 

“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue. 

He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?” 

You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.” 

He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”

You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?” 

Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?” 

The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine. 

He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?” 

Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.” 

A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?” 

You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—

You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath. 

“Spank my pussy again, please.” 

Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while. 

“Apologize first.” 

“You didn’t tell me how.” 

He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—

“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.” 

Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours. 

You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples. 

“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”

You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.

“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged. 

“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?” 

Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times. 

You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think. 

When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants. 

Roses, opening. Roses, sighing. 

You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—

“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half. 

There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath. 

Such a stark, sudden change. 

You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.

Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.

Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?

You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.

You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.

Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that. 

“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.” 

The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving. 

“Keep your legs where they belong.” 

“No.”

A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage. 

“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin. 

You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under. 

“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.

“You want to get fucked by someone else?” 

A question for a question. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration. 

Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home. 

The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy. 

There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.

“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?” 

Truthfulness, at last.

Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start. 

You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down. 

You fight against it. 

Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness. 

And you decide to repeat history. 

You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants. 

The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat. 

“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?” 

You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether. 

And then, you collect your essence again. 

This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest. 

“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.” 

Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you. 

He parts his lips for you. 

And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally. 

You’re in charge. And it feels divine. 

His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue. 

“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.” 

A straight hit to his core. A glee for you. 

But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince. 

And then—then he manhandles you. 

Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does. 

He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden. 

Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter. 

“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?” 

You gulp, frozen, eyes widening. 

Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion. 

“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.” 

So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit. 

Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free. 

You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off. 

“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.” 

Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused. 

“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.” 

You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation. 

“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way. 

A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum. 

“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.” 

Yoongi has had enough. 

He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’. 

Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.” 

You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?” 

He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix. 

You moan his name, gone—entirely gone. 

“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?” 

He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him. 

“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”

Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.” 

He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you. 

“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.” 

You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.” 

He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something. 

Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—

Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.” 

You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you. 

“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.” 

You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come. 

It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them. 

“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.” 

You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes. 

“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.” 

With that, he hangs up. 

You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again. 

Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself. 

You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you. 

“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing. 

You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?” 

Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.” 

You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief. 

“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you. 

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you. 

He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—

Yoongi loses his mind. 

And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles. 

“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.” 

He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours. 

But you don’t let him take charge. 

“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.” 

Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you. 

His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed. 

You hold onto his neck with your dear life. 

“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.” 

You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours. 

“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.

“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.” 

Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him. 

It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock. 

It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit. 

It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life. 

And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.

And it’s you who checks up on him. 

“You sure you’re okay with this?” 

You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too. 

He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring. 

“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.” 

You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation. 

“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?” 

You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness. 

“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him. 

“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.” 

“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.” 

Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / READ part two 

[euovennia]

"what's so funny?" | task force 141

this blurb has been on my mind so much ever since it first appeared in my inbox and i'm so happy to have finally written it, my dumb little gen z brain couldn't resist. thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3

pairing: youngest!reader x (platonic) task force 141

warnings: none

summary: the team gets curious when you seem to having just a little too much fun while scrolling through your phone. (based on this request)

The team doesn't seem to notice your small huffs of laughter at first, and if they do, they don't seem to give it a second thought. Why would they? You laughing at random videos on your phone had practically become second nature to them by this point. So, they remain quiet, each of them doing their own separate thing in the common area. Gaz reading some random article about sharks on his phone, Ghost and Soap watching some low-budget action film on the television, and Price busying himself with some random crossword from a book of puzzles he'd picked up for himself not too long ago. They don't bother to interrupt your screen time as you sit propped up in the corner with your phone in your hands. They've come to learn you're often far too enthralled with the minute long videos you religiously scroll through to give them more than a quick smile of acknowledgement. They don't mind, however, it seems to make you happy.

Even so, they can't help but each feel a little curious as your faint smiles of amusement turn into small fits of giggles that you can barely contain with a painful bite to your lip. By the time Gaz finishes up reading his article, you're practically bursting at the seams as you try to contain your laughter. He watches you from across the room with great interest as you give your phone screen another swipe with a swift movement of your thumb. He keeps his eyes concentrated on your smiling face, eagerly waiting to see your reaction to the video you're currently watching. He's glad he did, because he's first to witness the way your resolve practically shatters as you fall into a loud fit of laughter. Each of the men give each other a shared look before Ghost stands up from the uncomfortable couch and makes his way over to you.

He stops just a few steps shy of you, "What's so funny?"

You give yourself a moment to calm down and take in a deep breath before handing him your phone with a large grin. He watches the video, his brows knitting themselves together in a state of confusion before he looks back down at you once the short video is finished playing.

"You're kidding me."

You grab your phone from his hands and haphazardly place it back onto the small table before standing up and grabbing his wrist.

"We need to do that, now."

He lets out a grunt, "We're not fuckin'–"

He's cut off by you reaching forward and grabbing onto his wrist with a soft touch.

"Please? I really wanna do it."

His eyes flicker back over to the video that's looping itself on your phone before settling his gaze back onto you who's staring up at him with a dopey grin and hopeful eyes. He's found he has a hard time saying no to you nowadays.

He sighs, "Fine."

Your face glistens with delight at his words and you're quick to pull him away from the room with the rest of the team still being able to hear you say something like, "this is gonna be so funny!"

Price, convinced you've whisked Ghost away to take part in something diabolical, quickly gets up from his chair and makes his way over to your abandoned phone. He picks it up with a careful grip and watches the video that's still looping.

Soap is the first to speak up after a few moments have passed, "What was it?"

Price's face is one of pure confusion as he turns the phone to face the men awaiting his response, "It's just a slice of bread falling over."

Gaz's face lights up as he gets up from his seat, "I wanna see some bread fall over," He cheers before rushing off in the direction of where you had taken Ghost.

The remaining two men watch him scurry off before turning to each other, the eldest of the two looking exceptionally confused as he speaks out, "Is this meant to be funny?"

Soap shrugs, "I prefer the one where the bread is having flashbacks, but the original one is fine too."

Price gapes at the Scotsman, "Flashbacks?!"

[just-some-random-blogger]

im sorry babes but im begging you. Can we have a pedro pascal x reader fic where she's like a vlogger/lawyer and its like a fanmade video of them on yt of them being crackheads and being all lovey-dovey. like libra x aries vibes they balance each other out sm. you don't have to really but i genuinely feel like you're the only person who can pull this off.

Talk To My Lawyer

Every time Pedro gets asked something he can't answer, he always says the same thing.

Pedro Pascal x Lawyer!Reader | 600< | cw: gender neutral!reader, fluff, crack, rpf, typos, etc.

A/N: i didnt use and pronouns for yn besides you so anyone can read! ALSO this took forever, but im glad I finally did it. I hope you enjoy this nonnie! it's not exactly like the request but its pretty funny lmao

Tagging: @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak @sunfairyy @djarinsstuff @mooniesyubi @pedropascalgirly @mmmmandoz @multifandom-fangirl4

X - (Formerly Twitter) - verse

@hotnewsoutlet: Pedro Pascal announces marriage to Civil Rights Lawyer with heartfelt Instagram post. @gigigogold1: PEDRO IS MARRIED? @linmanuzel: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (2) @HOTdigitidawg: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (3) @103840582duh: ??????????????????????????????????? QUE @pedropascaldad: TO A MOTHER FUCKING LAWYER 💀💀💀✋✋✋ @pedropascaldad: OF COURSE THE LAWYER LOOKS LIKE A SUPERMODEL TOO HAHAHAHAHHAAHAHA *jumps off a plane*

@papipascalyuh: ok but if pedro was gonna get married ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hell yeah itd be someone who looks like THAT holy fuck

@80pascal: ?????????????????????????????????????? UR TELLING ME THIS LAYWER IS NOT ONLY HOT BUT SMART AND FUNNY TOO????? [article link attached] @biwohla: 💀💀💀💀💀 NO CUZ THE LEVEL OF UNHINGED??? FROM A LAWYER???? INFUCKINGSANE @marvelwhorebb: "... I made sure to wear the Pedro Pascal T-shirt I made when we first announced our relationship. Gotta let the people know I'm one of them and simply got lucky." @atrediessucker: T-SHIRT *I MADE* SCREAMING WHATTTTTT

@djinssdjarrinn: OK IT HURTS BUT FUCK HES SO WHIPPED [video attached]

"How are you today?" asks the interviewer.

Pedro smiles and nods, "good, how are you?"

"I'm great, now that I got to see you," she says, making the man curl his head into his shoulder and grin.

Pedro waves a hand, "oh stapit"

She grins back, "I was excited when I saw you arrive with the internet's favorite lawyer."

His expression shifts, he brightens up. He places a hand on his chest, "me too! I'm so happy to have a date today. I always end up beggin' for some time, and now I got it-" fist pump "-y'know, not that I'm complainin'."

"Yeah, I was gonna sa-"

"I like begging." *Pedro smile.*

The interviewer doesn't quite catch it, "-y, the both of you are always booked and busy. How do you find time for each other?"

Pedro thinks, but is distracted when you walk up from behind him. He looks back when you place a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, he's forgotten all about the question and dotes on you. He brushes a hand on your cheek, asking you if you're okay. You whisper something but then catch the camera. You give a bashful smile, "oh, sorry to interrupt."

The interviewer immediately waves a hand, "oh, don't worry about it."

Pedro mutters something and kisses your hand. He holds it as he looks back to the interviewer. He opens his mouth then shakes his head, "sorry, what was the question?" Pedro laughs.

The woman chuckles then moves closer to you, "you know what, I'm sure people are dying to know, what's something you newlyweds like to do together?"

Pedro instantly turns to you.

You purse your lips in thought.

"I-"

"Watching movies," you say.

"I-" Pedro starts again, looking back to the interviewer, "I don't think we can say what we like to do."

*crickets*

Pedro looks at you, expression mischievous.

You stare back at him, eyes like daggers.

He holds back a laugh and leans into the mic, turning to the camera, "I can't say it. Talk to my lawyer."

The interviewer laughs and so do you, begrudingly.

"Talk to my lawyer," Pedro repeats proudly, breaking into a wide mouthed smile.

"Ok," you mutter, "pack it up, Pascal."

@alexielover: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP BASHING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL WHAT THE FUCK @600MILK: MF SAID TALK TO MY LAWYER 🙄✋ SOBBING @oscarisaaacsz: watch him use that for everythingggggg 😭 @pedrogrill: LORD I HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS @starwazfr: *sips clorox cutely* @emeryslala: and im supposed to sha la la baby after this? FOUL @pascpedro: respectfully, id pay to be their third @probelmaskt: PACK IT UP PASCAL???????????????????

[btdemaru]

hiiiyaaa! just found your blog, and im already obsessed 🤭 the theme is so cute too like wtf 🔛🔝 anyways i was wondering how the obey me brothers would react to an mc who’s very very good at giving massages! idk what it is but im very good at giving them so i wonder how they’d react to that 😭 again, super obsessed with ur blog and ur work <3

Obey me! Mc giving good massages to the brother's

note : thank u omg i just love pink tbh and i couldn't find any soft pink theme but im so glad you love my theme now 💕. AND THANK U AGAIN for suggesting this cause i need more idea juices for them [lipbite].... Gn!mc.

Warning : oiled up (not all), Might be ooc, if there's a misspelling/typo's I'm sorry, but mostly fluff cause idk if u wanted smut or not so enjoy

Lucifer

He will definitely resist it at first- the avatar if pride? The eldest?? A massage??? Do you think he's tired and overworked ?? [Yes]

But eventually gives in and lays down on the bed, i think he'd prefers clothes on or maybe just a t-shirt so that when you're done giving him the massage he can get back to work again

He's wrong 💀. Five minutes into the massage Lucifer's eye was starting to get droopy and heavy but he tried not to sleep

I think his back has alot of knots especially around his shoulder

If you knead/massage that part he'd probably slip out some groans or at least a satisfied noises

"i have no time for that, it'll only waste my time and i need to finish a few more-" before Lucifer could finish you tug his arm trying to drag him to the bed. He looks at you before sighing "fine, but i don't need this." Proceeds to lay down on his chest while he buried his face into the pillow.

You gently pressed your palms against his juicy broad shoulders before putting pressure on the tight knots "haaah.." he accidentally let out a satisfied sigh "oh? Seems like you're enjoying this after all!" Hearing you say that Lucifer went silent but still enjoys it, slowly drifting to sleep.

When you're done he's already too relaxed and knocked out at this point "hello? Earth to Lucifer! Were done here.. much better right?". No response at all from the mighty prideful demon below you, slowly with struggle you move him so he's laying on his back to find a peaceful look on his face as it was evident that he's definitely tired.

Mammon

Probs after you massage him once he'd want more some other time

Barges into your room after a 'tiring' day of having complaints and being chased for his debt just to ask for a massage

If you say no he'd look at you with puppy eyes while whining and pestering you about how shitty his day was

You (ofcourse) give in and he starts to take his jacket off leaving him in his white shirt smiling sheepishly at you before his back faces you

Mammon sighs in content as he immediately melts and relax into your touch, leaning more and more as he's starting to get a little too greedy for your touch. You pulled away only for him to gasp and turn over dramatically "hey why'd you do that? I thought the massage was-" you quickly cut him off "oh hush and let me do it properly and stop leaning all your weight towards me or lay down!" You spoke as he pouted and lay down on your bed.

He talks and talk about his day while you apply pressure on his muscles

Slowly he yawns and at the end of the session he sits up and thanked you before his eyes closes... now you have a sleepy eepy mammon

Leviathan

You cant tell me that he's not playing his video games most of the times or watching stuff to the point where his posture is BAD

And him sleeping in a bathtub doesn't help at all

He secretly has been wanting to ask for a massage from your for quite awhile but never really got the courage to ask even if you're close!

If you suggested it tho he wouldn't decline at all and just let you do your thing

You should probably tease him to take his hoodie off and just go shirtless to see how red he can be

"are you sure about the.. shirtless part?" He's still unsure but does it anyway since you're more experienced. What he didn't expect was a massage oil dripped onto his back from his shoulders all the way to his hip as you softly rubs it, making him jolts out of shock. "Wait wait wait w-what even was that?!" He looks at you "it's just an oil, relax."

He struggled to relax as he kept moving and wriggling slightly made you a little bit annoyed before gripping his waist and sits on his ass area so he doesn't move.

Levi's eye fluttered as your hand works magic on him, from his neck slowly moving down his shoulders and so on.

After you're done his face was less flushed as he thanked you and asked if he could ask for more in the future

Satan

He would probably droop himself over your shoulder fully dropping his whole weight onto your back

Nuzzling Into your neck before finally asking if you can massage him as his back was hurting from reading

If you accepted he'd happily lay down next to his cats (the one where he totally didn't sneak in)

He dimmed the light in the room and lays back down while he impatiently waits for you to begin

"just for a couple of minutes.. my back is killing me already" he said as he lays on his chest while slowly stroking the sleeping cat next to him "fine fine" after you spoke, you started to do your massage.

Satan couldn't help but melts and groans at the pleasure as the pressure on his back was slightly going away from your delicate but precise hands

Let's say 20 minutes has passed and you pull away thinking that satan is asleep and that you can stop, but as you do that his arms pulled you in again wanting for more "just ten more minutes- it feels so good.." well ten more minutes it is! (I cant say no to him)

Asmodeus

He's the one who sets up all these heart candles with flowery smell and assorted massage oil for you to choose

Asmo lured asked nicely for you to give him your perfect and heavenly massages

He'll even ask to give you a massage in return (it'll turn into more)

Loves the way your hand roams around and all over his body

Oh and asmo probably will go butt naked only with a towel to cover his ass

You gave in to him since he made the efforts of already setting the mood with pretty scented heart candles and bought the massage oil

When you start to carefully massage his neck, he's going to be loud and wouldn't mind if anyone outside his room hear him, slowly working down to his back Asmo is amazed of how good you are "where did you learn this? It feels so good~" he nuzzle back to his pillow after talking.

After you're finish, he'll insist to give you a massage in return so if you accept that then don't be suprised if his hands roam around places on your body slightly squeezing it (he'll ask tho) and perhaps more than just a massage

Beelzebub

You'd give him massages a few hours after his workout sessions

Loves the way your hands move all over his muscular body and would be a happy boy if you provided small snacks after

This is just a guess of mine but i think it'll be kinda hard? Like you'd need to put more pressure on him than the other's cause his muscles are hard

Aside from the back side, feel free to give him arm massage as well

Beel will stare at you when you're kneading his sore arm muscle, a small smile was shown on the corner of his lips and he leans back.

"you brought snacks..right?" He looked around the room and on the bed to find anything he van chew on "I'll give it to you after the massage so be patient." Beel actually did what you said and waited til the end of the massage

Gently rub his arms with a warm towel after pls he likes it.

After that he'd probably embrace you while he's eating the snacks and just enjoy how fuzzy n relaxed he feels and glad that you accepted his cuddles

Belphegor

He wouldn't ask for it in words, belphie would just tug your shirt and pat his back signaling he wants you to start massaging him

Loves LOVES when you give him scalp massages and gives his face kisses afterwards

Eventually will fall asleep but who's suprised atp lmfao

You better give him snuggles and cuddles when you're done cause i like to think he's abit clingy

Belphie pats his back as you guys were watching a movie "you want a massage like- right now?" You said while only getting a nod from the demon next to you, quickly gets in between your body and lays on your stomach as he waits for you to start "...hurry" belphie kept nuzzling his head on your hands as you sigh and starts to gently massage his head

Working your way across his scalp to cover all areas. Trying to massage his scalp using your fingertips for at least 5 minutes before small snores are starting to come out of belphie's lips, he would say it from time to time about how good of a massage you give and how much he enjoys it.

[elli3luvs]

falling in love at a coffee shop pt. 3 [ELLIE W]

summary: watching movies with your favorite barista was never easier

genre: fluff/angst

wc: 1.9k

a/n: thank you guys for loving this! i don't feel as if im too good at telling stories but im glad you guys enjoy it hehe sorry if i missed anyone on the tags as well!!!!

part two

Who even knew video stores were still a thing? You surely didn't think they were — you were almost certain they died out in the late 2000s with the rise of streaming services. Every store around town seemed to be shuttered up. But Ellie, being the cool girl she is, somehow knows of a still operating movie store. You have to admit, putting in a DVD somehow feels cooler than pulling it up on Netflix. There was something about the sound of the DVD player that made you a little giddy. The giddiness was totally not because of the girl standing in front of you.

Totally not.

She raises her eyebrows when the tray slides back into her DVD player, "Super cool, huh? Feels... retro." She lets out a shaky breath while rubbing the back of her neck. She makes her way over to the couch — plopping down, making your body slide closer to her. Her scent fluttered over your nose. She smelled woody and like coffee.

On brand.

You still couldn't believe you were sitting in Ellie's living room. The room smelled similar to her minus the coffee smell. The room wasn't necessarily tidy but it wasn't overly dirty. There wasn't trash everywhere but random trinkets were scattered over the surfaces. There were hoodies thrown over the backs of chairs and a couple of empty water bottles on her coffee table. Lived in is what you would describe it as. There were a couple of picture frames on a mantel above her TV but the room was too dark to make out the figures. 

"I haven't watched anything on DVD in like, I don't know, years." You let out a small laugh as the home screen pulls up. It was a movie you have never heard of, but it looked similar to Star Wars. Grand music filled the room before she turned the sound down a bit. 

Ellie nods at your words, "I love it," You turn your head to look at her. There was a giddy look in her eyes you have never seen before, "Going to the video store is, like, my number one hobby."

You laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement, "What about making coffee?" 

Ellie clicks the 'Play Movie' option and a bright light flashes over her face as the commercials play before the movie. You forgot movies used to have commercials even on the home versions. 

She rolls her eyes playfully at your question, "Making coffee is my job. Even though I love it, I definitely don't want to think of it once I'm out of there."

"I get that." 

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you. It's hard not to stare at her through your peripheral. All you wanted to do was stare at her. You feel her legs pressed against yours, her legs spread a little more than yours. You take in a deep breath so you don't freak out at the contact. 

God, is this middle school? 

You shift your eyes slowly over to her figure, just wanting to take a tiny little peek. She was too pretty not to look at. It wasn't weird to look casually, right? When your eyes connect with hers, though, you rip them away while you blink rapidly. 

Shit, she was already looking? 

A pounding feeling against your chest makes it nearly impossible to focus on the now-playing movie. A spaceship rips through outer space as the main actor barks orders at his crew on the ship. Techno music plays in the background. You had no clue what was happening as a little vermin-looking creature started speaking in a made up language. 

Was she still looking? Surely she had to be focusing on the movie she chose. She looked so excited to start it. She definitely wasn't staring at you anymore.

You slowly move your eyes across the room and slightly turn your head to look at her. Your eyes connect with her green eyes once more but instead of looking away, you keep them there. You can feel your face flush under the intense gaze she has you under.

Ellie's eyes widen once she realizes you weren't going to look away. Another flash from the TV illuminates her features. You could tell that she was blushing. Neither of you looked away even as the tension built.

She was so cute.

"I can't," She starts, voice barely more than a whisper, "I can't focus on this."

You smile at her, "I definitely have no clue what is going on," Ellie smiles at your honesty, "Turn it off. We can just talk."

Ellie seems to like your suggestion as she reaches her hand out and presses the off button on the remote. She fully turns toward you. Your knees knock against each other with how close the proximity is.

Ellie rubs her hands together while a breathy laugh escapes her lips, "I guess I'll ask the question that's been burning me the most."

A laugh bubbled out of your throat, "What is this 21 questions?" Ellie joins your laughter at the realization of what she's doing, "Go ahead, I guess. I might have an answer for you."

"What's your major? And... why did you decide to come into my coffee shop that day?"

"Woah, these are... really hard-hitting questions." You sarcastically reply. Ellie pushes your shoulder lightly with a chuckle. She mutters, Shut up' before looking back at you with expectant eyes. There was a glint in her eyes.

You loved the way she looked at you.

"I'm a literature major, boring I know, and the reason I went in is that my friend dragged me there," Ellie acts fake offended at your response, "I actually hate coffee."

Ellie gawks at the last part, "You what?"

You throw up your hands in surrender, "Don't hate me. It is just so nasty to me."

"I feel as if you have just shot me. You always order something," Ellie's hand goes over her heart in a dramatic manner, "But if I'm being honest, I don't really like it either."

You shoot up from your position. Ellie may have been faking shock but this was true for you, "What do you mean? You own the coffee shop!"

Ellie copies your surrender motion, "I know. I know. The only reason I opened the shop, well became a barista in the first place, is because my dad really loves coffee," You can feel your heart melt at the kind words, "Gave us something to bond over."

"That's really cute, Ellie." You look at her with eyes gushing with love. You hoped she couldn't tell how infatuated you were becoming with her.

"I know, I'm adorable," She leans in closer as if she's about to reveal a huge secret to you, "You do realize we have other drinks than coffee, right?"

She laughs at the way your face pales and how your eyes widen, "Oh my god!"

Her laugh was perfect.

It was becoming impossible to ignore your feelings for much longer. Each moment was another reason to fall for her. She was extremely sentimental and super observant, remembering the tiny details. Ellie was the first to notice if you parted your hair a different way or did a new thing with your makeup. It made your heart soar with happiness when she remembered another tiny detail from you.

Throughout the rest of the night, you guys talked about random things on that stupid couch situated against the wall. You talked about her love of space and how she wishes she could see the stars up close at least once. You talked about your worries and fears, things you wanted to do when you grew up, and the things that make you happiest.

You got closer to her with each passing second, knocking knees turned into your legs thrown over hers. That turned into you scooting closer (almost sitting on her lap) and your head leaning against her shoulder.

You weren't sure when you fell asleep. All you knew was it was the most comfortable you felt in a while.

--

Burning light was what woke you up. It definitely wasn't how you wanted to wake up, much preferring the smell of food cooking. Damn those stupid curtains for being pulled back. You furrow your eyebrows at the blinding light, not yet used to the morning sun. Your hand shoots out to feel around where you were. Still on the couch but no Ellie. You blink the bleariness away from your eyes while wondering where Ellie went.

There's slight muttering coming from the kitchen, it's hushed but urgent. There she is but you can't make out what or who she is talking to. You sit up from your laying position, back aching from sleeping on the tiny couch. Your ears strain to hear the conversation.

"Wasn't really expecting... come home... random girl!" That definitely wasn't Ellie's voice. It was too high-pitched and sweet.

"...Quiet... still sleeping... been broken up... had no right." There was the voice you came to know. 

Curiosity filled your mind at the quiet talking in the kitchen. She never mentioned a roommate while talking to you last night. You fully push yourself off of the couch and creep your way to the area they were in. Ellie's back was turned from you so you got a glimpse of who she was talking to.

It was a shorter girl with black hair with an angry expression painted on her features. Her eyes landed on you and she scoffed. 

Oh shit. She was furious.

"Great," Her voice cut the tense silence, "Now she's walking around as if this is her house."

Ellie whipped around with a look that made your heart stutter. It looked as if she had been caught doing something wrong.

She gave you an apologetic look, "Cat, can you for once..." She cut herself off, reaching out to you, "Hey, listen-"

You decided to cut her off this time while stepping back, "You never told me you had a girlfriend. This changes a lot, Ellie." 

Cat scoffs again at your words. Her arms cross over her chest as she mutters, 'Good god, Ellie.' Ellie gives her a pointed look before turning back to you.

"I can fully explain this." Ellie's words are punctuated by the movement of her hands. They were shaking slightly. 

'She's just stunned that she was caught,' an evil voice in your head bounced around.

You shake your head, "No need to." You turn on your heels ready to get the hell out of the tense situation. Ellie calls your name but once you are out the front door she doesn't make any moves to run after you.

"Great," You roll your eyes trying to ignore the feeling of your heart shattering, "This is fucking great."

You couldn't wait to talk to Dina.

tags: @ellieismami, @minillie, @dankpunks, @elliesgff, @muthafuckingstargirl, @deafelliewilliams, @pinkazelma, @fairybr3ad, @me-and-your-husband, @intrnetdoll, @kyleeservopoulos

[clayvedevs]

ATP Hunger Games Simulator

With relatively little tournaments going on now post-wimbledon, i've decided that the next best thing is to watch the atp top 25 (minus rat) fight to the death in the hunger games. Since that's also not an option, i'm left just simulating what would happen if they were in the hunger games. So without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, meet the cast:

And it's lights out and away we go!

Day 1

And already, there are casualties. Local american idiots Ben Shelton and Taylor Fritz team up to fight brit Jack Draper and honorary brit Alex de Minaur. Unfortunately, Ben and Taylor don't make it. Rip american idiots. You found each other in every universe.

As the day goes on, we don't see any more casualties. However, faa is pricked by thorns, which is about the most action so far. Oh and Hubi sparing Lorenzo's life like the gentleman he is. Daniil with explosives, a great combination i'm sure. As night falls, 2 cannon shots can be heard in the distance. Rip Ben Shelton and Taylor Fritz.

Night 1

Some very interesting groups. Not sure why Lorenzo would want to hang out with the guy who just defeated him in a fight, but it's his decision. No more deaths yet. Sebastian Baez is a mood.

Day 2

Novak Djokovic with a spear is something that everyone should be afraid of. But having said that, it is Jack Draper who kills Felix Auger Aliassime, who evidently has not recovered from his earlier thorn prick. Jack - 3, everyone else - 0. A cannon can be heard in the distance. Felix Auger Aliassime, taken from us too soon.

Night 2

Everyone prefers night matches apparently, because all the action is happening at night! Both Chileans fall at the hands of the ruthless Sebastian Korda and the merciless Andrey Rublev respectively. Rip Chile, you had to put clothes on eventually. Alex de Minaur has opted to keep Lorenzo Musetti alive. This is the 2nd time someone could have killed Lore but his puppy dog eyes must have won them over. Will this come back to bite him in the arse? Honestly, i wouldn't need much convincing to snuggle up with Alexander Bublik.

Day 3

Hubi the gentle giant not so gentle, forcing Bublik to kill Karen. If i was Sebastian Korda, i too would question my sanity. I wouldn't even have to be in the hunger games. Alex keeps letting people live, which is nice of him, but what other chance are you gonna get to eliminate the threat that is Novak? Biggest news though, the number 1 seed is out! Yes, Jannik Sinner has been killed at the hands of Sebastian Baez. 4 cannon shots can be heard for the Chileans, Karen and Jannik.

Night 3

Not much to say here, except that Tommy Paul might have an infection, Stefanos is thirdwheeling ruru, and Jack shows mercy for once. Also, i've heard Novak sing in that backhand boys video, and he didn't have the worst vocals.

Day 4

A lot of sanities being questioned. Tommy Paul tried to be too clever and it has backfired on him. Sebastian Korda is the last North American standing. In a repeat of the Dubai semi finals this year, Ugo Humbert has taken down Daniil Medvedev. Is the arena filled with clay? Sebastian Baez seems to be enjoying himself though. And glad to see Andrey try to fix his sleep schedule. 2 cannon shots for Tommy and Daniil.

Night 4

Another night, another Tsitsipas rizz masterclass. First cuddling with Sascha, now holding hands with Jack. In revenge of the Acapulco final, Casper kills Alex. Between this and Daniil, mouse man nation has truly crumbled.

Day 5

It seems like his age is finally catching up with Novak, whose ankle gives out after a chase by the fitter Andrey. After scaring him in Day 4, Holger doesn't finish the job and spares Korda. Maybe he felt bad for the jumpscare? But in a huge twist of events, evidently Bublik hasn't gotten over Hubi forcing him to kill Karen, so he enlists the help of Carlos to get revenge. Poor baby Casper is pricked by thorns. I wonder how he'll fare?

Everyone has failed their mandatory drug test and begins to hallucinate. Sebastian Korda wins the Sebastian Derby, and there goes Latin America's last hope. Both Carlos and Novak die hugging tracker jacker nests. Maybe it's a grand slam winner thing? Also Lorenzo and Holger attempt to run away to wonderland together, but their doomed love story ends there. At least they died together. I know the French eat snails but apparently they also eat scorpions too. And this one is a doozy. A whopping 8 cannon shots can be heard for Alex de Minaur, Hubi Hurkacz, Sebastian Baez, Carlos Alcaraz, Lorenzo Musetti, Holger Rune, Novak Djokovic and Ugo Humbert. At this point, i'm beginning to get scared that Sebastian Korda might actually win this thing.

Night 5

Korda continues his reign of terror, taking out Bublik. Grigor dares to dream, something that he hasn't done in a long time. Probably.

And it's time for the feast!

Oh my! Andrey Rublev has always been a wanted man, but now it seems like he's wanted more than ever, and not in a good way. Grigor doesn't go to the feast. At least he didn't see his lover die.

Day 6

Grigor goes and takes revenge for Andrey's murder, but ultimately decides against going through with it. 2 cannon shots can be heard. Rip Alexander Bublik and Andrey Rublev.

Night 6

Poor Grigor, still haunted by his dead lover. And here's another weird statistic for the atp, tree related deaths - 2. You heard that right ladies and gentlemen. Two people have died from tree related incidents: Jack from falling out of a tree and Sebastian Korda from being stabbed by a tree branch. Ouch. At least his reign of terror is now over.

So, who is still alive?

After flopping on the atp tour for these past months, Casper Ruud, Stefanos Tsitsipas and Grigor Dimitrov suddenly find themselves with a chance at victory. Will it be the iceman Casper Ruud who will find himself winning a title bigger than a 250? Will the balding, bisexual, Bulgarian Grigor Dimitrov win his 2nd title since 2017? Or will Stefanos "daddy issues" Tsitsipas prove that he can win without on-court coaching? Stay tuned to find out.

Day 7

Casper goes back to his Scandi roots and builds a shack worthy of rivaling ikea furniture. 1hbh off and Grigor runs away, knowing he can't shank the ball as well as Stefanos can. 2 shots can be heard for Jack Draper and Sebastian Korda.

Night 7

Stefanos wasn't invited to the cuddle party. The shock of that was too much for him and he passed out. Not fatally though.

Day 8

Stefanos, in awe of Grigor's backhand and slice, knows he cannot compete with him, begs to be killed. Grigor keeps him alive anyway.

Night 8

If this were another genre, it'd be the start of a smutty threesome. But it's the hunger games, so two of these men are gonna be dead come tomorrow.

Day 9

And what's this? Grigor Dimitrov has died from thirst. What a way to go though. And Casper Ruud from district 4, killing off his title contender for king of flopping, has won the hunger games! Congrats king, i hope you win a real title soon.

[personwhowrites]

Okay uh― I am quite new here and I saw that ypur requests are open (I hope)

But, I LOVE your writing with Self-Aware 141 TF with Player!Y/n ！Especially the ones with Ghost's and Price's mocking - I swear, they wpuld totally do that.

Can you maybe do 2 part or just Platonic one with them hanging out (somewhat) with Player!Y/n that just accepted that they are aware amd just rolls with it?

There will be no part 3! ~maybe~ I will be catching up on requests! My inbox is now close for a short while -E <3

Aware Part 2

You nervously bit your lip as you debated turning your PC on. Slightly regretting the choice as your eyes fell upon their character.

John “Captain” Price

At first, you hesitated deeply to turn your PC on. Your mind was filled with dark thoughts of what could be waiting for you if you switched it on – a hacker, or even worse, a stalker. You were about to give up until you heard a voice coming from your screen.

“Nice to see you, kid," Price said, causing you to jump out of your chair in surprise. "Easy now."

"Fuck this is so weird," you mumbled, eyeing the screen warily. "Jesus, so you all can actually see me?"

"And hear you, so watch that fucking tone," Price said with a low chuckle, causing your body to freeze in fear. "Took you long enough to come back."

"Well, it’s hard to come back when a fucking game character is talking to you!" You hissed back a response as you tentatively sat back down. "Hell, I was thinking about throwing my whole PC away."

“Well, aren’t you glad you didn't!" Price said, sitting down on a log. "So, what made you come back, kid?"

"I...uh...I don't know," you replied, averting your eyes from the screen and grabbing your phone. You started to record the conversation. "I guess I needed some company?"

"Company?" Price said, crossing his arms and looking at you. "I may be ones and zeros, but I'm not dumb, kid."

You remained silent and sighed. He was sure smart – smart enough to soon point out that you were facing the camera the wrong way, making you blush in embarrassment. As you and him talked, slowly it hit you – you liked talking to ones and zeros.

"So, you all just hang out or something?" You asked Price, taking some notes down on your phone. "Like, none of the stuff ever happened?"

"Pretty much, kid but we practice our aim.” Price said in a teasing tone before turning to look behind him. "Looks like I gotta go back to my code."

““Wait!" You yelled, slightly as you put your hand up to the screen as if you could actually stop him. "Wait wait...I uh...want to know more about you."

Price stopped for a moment then looked at you. His eyes slightly softened as he tossed his head back slightly, laughing. He nodded and stared at you for a long time.

"Very well, kid," Price said with a smug smile forming on his lips. "So, what’s your name, kid?"

"Y/N," you said softly, moving your hand away. "You guys always been...aware of this...world of yours?"

"Of course we have! Every single character in a game is!" Price said with a small laugh. "I'm surprised you humans didn't figure it out faster."

"Why expose yourself to me?" You asked, making his laughter stop and his stare become tense. "Why me?"

"Well...Y/N," Price stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. "We... felt some sort of welcoming with you."

You stayed silent as Price took off his hat. You couldn’t help but smile and shake your head in amusement. You may have been a little out of your mind for talking to someone from a video game, but it felt so good to have someone in your life who would listen to you. Price looked at you with a gentle expression as you deleted the recording from before and threw your phone somewhere he couldn't see.

“Tell me how it feels like to be code!" You said excitedly, taking out your pen and notepad. "Please..."

Price laughed and shook his head. He seemed to be enjoying the comfort of someone that isn't code as well. He looked at you with a kind expression, like he was trying to understand what it was like for you. "It's a strange thing, being code. I'm not really alive, but I'm still here. It's like I'm connected to a world that I can't see, or touch, but I can feel it. It's like I'm a part of something much bigger than me."

Kyle “Gaz”Garrick

You eagerly turned on your PC as soon as you woke up, hoping to talk to Price again. Your excitement only grew when you saw Gaz waiting for you, with a warm and welcoming smile on his face.

“Well, well, so you really are back, huh?" Gaz said, making you quickly nod. "Wow, you seem excited to actually see me and not scared."

"Well, I had a good chat with Price," you responded softly, reaching for your notes from the night before. "Gaz, I wanted to ask you something."

"Go on, Y/N," Gaz said, making your heart race. He already knew your name. "What? Surprised I know your name, kid?"

"I can guess Price told you all," you said, looking back at the screen. "He did, didn’t he?"

"Mhm, he sure did," Gaz responded, nodding his head. "Now, you seem like a talkative person."

"I guess I am?" You said softly, making Gaz sit down. "Hey...I already asked Price this, but...why did you guys pick me?"

"Pick me...that's one way to put it," Gaz said with a chuckle. “Well Y/n, like Price said. You brought us some sort of welcoming.”

You gave him a smile and look at the time. You were late to work, late for your real life experience.

“I have to go..” you say getting up from your PC. “I have work in thirty minutes and the bus ride is fourteen.”

“Do you have actual good aim at work?” Gaz asks making you roll your eyes. “Come on! It was a joke!”

“Very funny Gaz..” You say shaking your head. “I will have better aim after work.”

You waved goodbye to Gaz and reluctantly turned your PC off. You stared at the blank screen for a moment, slightly worried that they could still see you. You sighed and shook your head, feeling a bit silly for worrying. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door, feeling a bit lighter knowing that you had a friend to talk to when you needed it.

After a long day at work, you finally make it back home and turn on your PC. Much to your delight, you see Gaz still waiting for you like before. You eagerly sit down in your chair and give him a warm smile. He notices you and responds with a friendly smile of his own. You lean back in your chair and take a deep breath, feeling a sense of comfort.

“So how was work?” Gaz asked, his voice filled with concern. You let out a sigh and looked down at your dirt-streaked uniform.

“It was alright,” you said with a shrug. “But I had a few problems.” You hesitated for a moment before asking, “Gaz, do you guys even eat?”

Gaz laughed. “No, not even in the game!”

“That’s strange,” you murmured to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief. You looked back at Gaz and smiled. “Video games sure can be weird, can't they?”

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, your mind drifting back to the long day at work.

“I guess I should have known you guys didn't eat,” you said with a laugh.

You hadn’t meant to, but before you knew it, you were lulled into a deep sleep by the sound of Gaz's voice. His gentle words were like a lullaby, and it wasn't long before you drifted off into a peaceful slumber. It felt like only seconds had passed, but it must have been longer, for when you awoke the sun was peeking its head through the curtains, signaling the start of a new day.

John “Soap” MacTavish

It had been a while since you last touched your computer. With work, personal issues, and other distractions, it was easy to forget about it. But one day, you finally decided to turn it on, and the game loaded up by itself. You watched as Soap loaded in, and his face was filled with worry as soon as he saw your tired eyes. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, and he knew you had been through a lot lately. He wanted to make sure you were doing okay and that you weren’t pushing yourself too hard.

Soap spoke sheepishly as you leaned back in your chair, “

The last time we talked wasn’t so great... Where have you been, Y/n? It's been a while..." His voice was filled with worry, and you could tell he was concerned.

“Busy..." You murmured under your breath, closing your eyes slightly. "God, I’m so tired..." You could feel the weariness weighing down on you, and you wished you could just take a break.

“Then why don’t you sleep?” Soap says watching closely. “It’s good to sleep! Hell we even do it when you turn the PC off.”

“I can’t sleep now.. I gotta count how many hours I worked the past week.” You mumble rubbing your eyes. “So I will have to exit you out and get on Google Docs.”

“Couldn’t you have me on your screen, just on the side?" Soap said, getting closer to the screen. "I could help you..."

You sat upright, opening your eyes and considering the idea of splitting the screen.

"Maybe... but how could you help me?" You asked, curious as to what Soap might be able to do. “Or do you just want to chat?”

“We can chat while you work.” Soap says as you move him to a bother screen. “Nice! Hey I never knew your PC was this colorful.”

“Me ether..” You respond with a yawn and rub your eyes. “Better get started..”

Soap started to ask you some basic questions, like what your favorite color, food, and things to do besides work and gaming were. Everything seemed to be going well until you suddenly passed out headfirst into the keyboard, making him worry. He stayed there for a few minutes, only to discover you were asleep. Work and your life seemed to be in a state of disarray from his perspective, and he was concerned for your well-being.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

You took a seat in your chair, turning on your PC. You held a steaming cup of tea in your hand as the game loaded. You were slightly surprised to see Ghost and Price there, and a feeling of dread settled in your stomach. Were they there to make fun of you again? Was it your lack of progress in your work that had drawn them in? You tried to ignore the feeling, focusing on the game ahead.

“Looks like the brat is back.” Ghost says looking at you. “Got better aim this week or what?”

“Very funny..” You say rolling your eyes. “Never knew two of you can be here at once..”

“Well, we can be if we want.” Price responds looking at you. “Heard you passed out talking to the other two..”

“Work..is slightly overwhelming.” You respond taking a sip from the tea. “Hey, you boys been doing good?”

“Mhm, but I better get going.” Price says leaving you with Ghost.

“So, you gonna pass out on me?” Ghost says changing the background behind him. “Seems like you are kid.”

“It’s y/n.” You hiss in response, Ghost shakes his head and laughs. “How come your not acting your character?”

“Well, it gets boring acting like a low level person.” Ghost says with a slight shrug. “What want me to just stare at you? Because if that’s what you wa—“

“Your British accent is stronger..” you say interrupting him. “Why?”

“Why ask so many questions?” He snapped back making you roll your eyes. “Is that all you do? At least the questions have better aim than you kid.”

“Look! I’m good at gaming! I swear it’s just the control messed up!” You day setting your cup of tea down. “I’ll prove it! I bought a new controller.”

Ghost watched as you grabbed a new controller, a hint of amusement in his eyes. You started to load a mission with him, and he waited patiently as the game booted up. As you settled into your seat, you were aware of his gaze on you, but you tried to focus on the game ahead.

You slumped in your chair, a feeling of defeat settling over you as you surveyed the scene. Ghost had been roaring with laughter when he loaded in to see your performance, and now you were both in fits of laughter. You shook your head and covered your face with your hands, still chuckling at the absurdity of it all. You looked up at Ghost with a rueful smile, his laughter slowly fading away. You sighed and put your head down on the table, your cheeks still flushed with embarrassment.

“Think that controller is messed up too.” Ghost says calming down from the laughter. “Might need to buy a new one.”

“Whatever.” You say wiping a tear from the laughter. “Fuck..I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

“Maybe same time next week.” Ghost says leaning against a tree. “Or what, too busy?”

“Maybe..” You respond as your phone buzzes. “Shit, I forgot I had movie night with some friends.”

“Better get to it.” Ghost responds with a slight sad tone. “Hope to see you soon Y/n.”

Before you could say bye to him, the screen went dark. Your PC had shit down by itself, you sigh and got up from PC. Why did you feel some sort of connection with him?

Alejandro Vergas

You were listing to music at the time, not seeing him loaded on your other screen. Watching you sing to the songs that played loudly around you.

“Mi Amor, you got a beautiful voice.” Alejandro says making your fall out of your chair. “Shit! Sorry didn’t mean to scare you. Are you alright?”

“Fuck.. ow..” You murmured getting up from the floor. “Bloody hell.. that hurt..”

You glanced at Alejandro, noting the worried look on his face. Then you looked down at your hand, which had taken a hard hit when you fell. It was still throbbing with pain and you winced as you tried to make a fist.

“Please don’t just appear in another screen.. I forget I have more than one.” You mumble looking at your hand. “Thank for the compliment..”

“Are you alright?” Alejandro asks again hoping to get a response to his question.

“I will be..” You finally say sitting back down. “How you been Al?”

“Al?” Alejandro says confused looking at you. “New name for me?”

“You deserve it.. you were the only one that wasn’t on my ass about my aim.” You mumble looking at him. “Is Al okay?”

“It’s perfect Amor.” Responds quickly. “Please tell me about your day..”

You smile at him, he was kind hearted. Sweet and elegant with you, it made your heart flutter each time he would laugh at funny moments in your life. You yawned and rub your eyes not noticing how long you been talking to him.

“You better get some sleep.” He says looking at you. “Go on now and get rest.”

“Right.. I have work in ten.” You mumble rubbing their eyes. “Talk to soon..”

You look back at your screen to see it’s black. The PC has shut down by itself once more, you get up from your chair and rush to lay down down on your bed. Closing your eyes you hear Alejandro voice the back of your mind, comforting you and loving your smile.

?

“Test seems to to run well.” ? Says looking at you through a window. “Make her more tired, see how long it takes her to realize.”

The scientist nodded in response to the order and quickly walked away towards the cameras that had been pointed at you in the room. You were completely unaware of the life you had been thrust into, but the scientist pressed a button on a nearby table and suddenly gas was released into the room. You groaned in pain as the gas filled the air and you felt a prickling sensation in your lungs and throat. You tried to move, but found yourself unable to as the gas started to take effect.

“Enough, we don’t want to kill them.” ? Says making the scientist release the button and walk back to them. “Check on her on every hour.”

The scientist nodded once more and watch at ? Walked away. Leaving them to watch over at your tired weak body. You were their experiment, their fun, their..lab rat. You had no choice, no voice to it.

————

{Tag List} @emtynessinmyworld @angi61400 @lenasvoid @thatanonymouschocolate @astrologhoul @smolmoonbabey @agspgrwasb @uwu-i-purple-you @bbygirlformw2 @euovennia

[bunmurdock]

OMG the porn links you dropped the other day were GOLDEN! do you have any more? <3

re: spicy links, ah, i'm glad you like! i don't watch spicy videos much bc i'm just so single-mindedly in love with matt murdock sjdfsndksngns and most videos break the illusion for me. it took me forever to even find those videos ahha.

if you're interested in the model, he appears on two channels on ph—here and here. i watched a bunch of other videos (even checked out his onlyfans) but wasn't really feeling them. BUT i am very picky, i've been consuming adult content for a long time, you may enjoy this and this among others. he's definitely a great performer in bed and has a gorgeous body and voice!

[magical-wishies]

To love or not to love, that is the questio-

Ok whoops wrong reference. Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I made a MV of the song "Darling Dance" by Kairiki Bear featuring my favourite little tricksters for the occasion!

I'd rather you go straight to Youtube to watch it because Tumblr always finds a way to cut the quality, lol.

Eng subtitles are available too!

Here it is! Hope you enjoy my pride and joy. Basically like a hopeful child but in video format. Reblogs are specially appreciated because Youtube sucks at promoting new channels!

This also acts as a behind-the-scenes post, so let's get straight into that, shall we?

MV Project 1 "Darling Dance"

Illustration time: 37 hours

Editing time: Approx. 30-35 hours

Total: 70 hours

*Cough* Holy freakin' moly does making an MV take so long. Before you roll off your bed, I'll say that part of the reason making the art took so long was because I have trouble drawing Marx consistently.

Here's some unused assets! Look at them, they're all salty over not making the cut.

In all seriousness though, a lot of times I don't really see a lot of editors/ MV makers getting appreciation for their efforts. And now that I've personally experienced making an MV for the first time, it's also increased my admiration to the people who dedicate their time to this! All the kudos to them.

Now, I'll go scene by scene then comment along the way! Spoilers ahead!

Verse 1

Pretty good for what it is. In the first image, you see that heart behind Magolor? I discovered the motion of it on complete accident lol. Capcut is hard to figure out..

I also really like the color palette of 2nd image. That art of Marx was the last one I did during production (aka I drew it this morning), and just look at him. He's such a bastard he's the best.

Pre Chorus 1

Mmmm yeah it sure is the pre chorus! I put a bar behind the text in the middle because I didn't want people to stare into their soulless eyes for too long. That probably worked!

1st Chorus

When I first added in the expression change, I fangirled over it a little on the first rewatch. Like, come on! They suddenly look mischievous, and the color change on the background! I know I drew it but still!

For the rest, I experimented a little with all the "Nah"s! I think it ended up well. Most of the lyric editing in this MV is completely original, so I had a couple of things to try out!

Verse 2

This song is horrifically outdated because it says Twitter instead of X!! (/sarcasm)

This scene is my second favourite. I'm really proud of the details on the tabs and the editing at the beginning! Wish I could put more images but the app only allows ten. Bummer.

Pre Chorus 2

I think it's cute, and I used it as my pfp on YouTube! That's about it though.. image limit is killing me I can't put anything here :(

Chorus 2

...Not gonna spoil it! I like how I drew them, but there ain't anything notable. Unless you look at the last image I put right before the bridge. :)

Bridge

This is where my editing comes in freakin' clutch. Ooooooh it's so satisfying to look at. Chef's kiss. Also those Marxs (Marxes?) are really cute.

The second part of the bridge is nice as well! I tried to make the lyrics snap to the rhythm. Glad I added that tv effect in the bg too!

Chorus 3

This scene is my favourite! Wanna know why?

This sequence right here. I think I will etch it into my brain forever... I love me some snappy editing. Like a lot. Like a lot a lot!

The second part of the chorus is like the original song's MV! I loved the hearts popping in and out whoever thought of that is a genius. Putting it into the MV was a good decision!

And that's a wrap! Hope you enjoy the MV as much as I enjoyed making it. And, stay tuned for next time! I have a feeling a certain jester is getting his own solo MV...

Feel free to leave your thoughts either in the Youtube comments section or here. See you around!

[iamthecomet]

You can't just say Aethdew sexting while Dew's on tour and get away with it

I'm so glad you asked about this. It's been plaguing me for literal weeks. (@miasmaghoul can back me up on that). Enjoy. <3

Aether's phone buzzes late. Well after midnight, like usual. He doesn't know what time it is where Dew is--earlier by an hour or two he guesses. He'd like to say he's keeping track. That he knows exactly where they are. He kept track for the first week or so. Looked at all the pictures, watched the videos. But that started to crack something painful open in his chest. Loneliness. Jealousy. He made the right choice--he knows it. But man, it doesn't make the ache for the stage any less. He wants to be there with them. Mostly, he wants them all here with him.

The message doesn't wake him up. Sleep has been elusive since his pack went on tour. He finds himself awake most of the night--sleeping in fits during the day. Curled up in sunspots. Dragging Sunshine into a nap with him. His mind wanders less in the sunlight.

The TV is on low. Still on the show Sunny left it on when she went to bed, kissing Aether on the temple and telling him not to stay up all night. The light flashes over his face, he's watching, but he isn't. It drones on, something about baking that Cumulus probably loves.

Aether looks at his phone. He knows it's Dew before he really looks at it. He's the only one who texts him in the middle of the night. Heedless to time and basic human decency. Aether is grateful for these middle of the night texts. He gets one almost every night. He probably won't mention it to Dew--then he runs the risk that they'll stop.

Droplet: Can't sleep.

Aether shakes his head. He thinks about asking what time it is. Asking more details. Asking him why, exactly, he can't sleep this time. But he doesn't really want an essay on the shitty hotel bed and the scratchy sheets. Or how the bus is too loud. He just wants Dew. A: How was the show?

D: hot. Good I guess. A show. You know?

Aether does know. They run together after a while. Blending until it's hard to remember what happened in France and what happened in Spain. He doesn't miss that part, the exhaustion, the bone-deep fatigue that you have to push through every day.

A: hotel?

D: yeah. Rooming with Swiss. Wanna help me sleep? Aether looks at the text. Tries to smother the desire already curling in his gut. Of course he wants to help Dew sleep. He wants Dew to be here so he can press him into the couch and kiss him breathless. Wants to sheathe his fingers inside Dew's over-warm body and finger him until Dew begs.

A: you could ask Swiss.

D: don't want Swiss.

Aether stares at the message. Three words and he's already chubbing up. Show me he texts back. Slipping his free hand into his sweatpants and wrapping his fingers around his cock. Let me help. The next thing Aether knows his phone is ringing. He fumbles with it, trying to answer the video call and keep his hand on his dick. He half expects Dew's face to fill the screen, instead he's met with his cock. Hard, already flushed red at the tip and shiny with pre. Dew's spidery fingers are wrapped around the base. Aether watches the way his stomach muscles jump as his fingers contract and release. Dew's sweatpants are pulled down to his thighs, bare toes pressed into the white tile floor, already curling. "Tell me what to do," Dew whispers. "Are you in the bathroom?" Aether asks, narrowing his eyes and trying to get his barring. Dew snarls. "Does it matter, come on, Aeth. Please." It's the please that gets him. Always is. It's a rarely used weapon in Dew's arsenal, but it's lethel. Aether can't deny him when he asks nicely. Why would he want to? "Go slow, tell me what it feels like." Dew's breath stutters. Aether watches his hand drag up the length of his cock. Watches it kick in Dew's palm. "Better if it was you." "Wish it was," Aether says. He's fully hard now, heavy in his own hand. He matches Dew's pace, mimics his motions. It's almost enough to pretend it's Dew's skinny hand. Aether bites back a moan as Dew rubs the palm of his hand over the flushed head. "Aeth," Dew whines after a few minutes. He's shaking a little. "Need more." Aether knows the feeling. Body screaming for him to just move, for more, for something rough and desperate. "Yeah, yeah, faster now. It's ok." Dew groans when he finally lets loose. Aether matches his rough pace, precum soaking into his sweatpants. Listening to Dew pant and whine as stands, dick in one hand, phone in the other. Aether watches Dew's pre drip from his cock and onto the tile and he thanks Satan for good internet connections and better phone cameras. Dew makes a noise Aether knows too well. Gut punched. Desperate. He can see his toes curling. Can see the fine shake in his thighs. Aether longs to reach out and touch him. To be the one with his hand wrapped around that cock, to feel the pulse of it. He squeezes his own, balls drawing up tight against his body as he watching Dew drag himself closer and closer does him in. "Aeth--" "Me too, let me see it. Come on Dew, make a mess for me I wanna--" Dew swears, his rhythm falters. His cock kicks in his hand and Aether watches as he cums across his own knuckles and onto the floor. The video shakes as Dew tries to keep the phone in his hand as he cums. Gasping. Aether wishes he could see his face--could watch the way his eyes roll back in his head--next time. He doesn't need it, the sight of Dew cumming is enough to send Aether over the edge. Groaning, spilling into his sweatpants and over his hand. He digs his teeth into his cheek and tries to keep his eyes open--watching as Dew wipes his hand off on his pants and pulls them up. Aether drops his head back against the couch cushion and tries to breathe normally. Dew's face fills the screen next. Flushed, still panting. His hair is a mess. He smiles at Aether, wide and dumb and sleepy. Aether can't help but smile back at him. He feels insane. He feels like if he tried hard enough he could reach through his phone and drag his fingers over Dew's cheekbone. "Better?" he asks. Dew nods. "Still miss you though." "Few more weeks, Firefly. And it'll be my hand, I promise." "Hopefully more than your hand," Dew grins. He tries and fails to stifle a yawn. "Go to sleep, Dew." Dew frowns. But he steps out of the bathroom and kills the light. Dew's face is illuminated now by only the light from his phone and the TV, droning in the background just like it is for Aether. "Same time tomorrow?" Dew asks. Aether nods, "I'll be waiting."

[whoregaylorenzo]

Hiii!! I'm new to this fandom and I'm also a sucker for good sibling relationships

Do you know where I would be able to watch the videos Alex and Marc did together?? I did a generic search but to no avail 😭

Thank you so much!;!!!

welcome to the fandom anon!! so glad to have you!!! <3

okay so I'm not sure if you're looking for specific videos or anything but I'll compile a few links to the challenge videos here :) tell me if you meant sth else

¿Quién sabe más? ¿Marc de Alex o Alex de Marc? (one of my fav comfort videos, literally 15min of two brothers being silly answering questions about eachother)

whisper challenge (if you are like me and don't speak spanish you won't understand them but if you are really like me you will just enjoy them speaking words and cracking eachother up)

5 second rule challenge (this whole video feels like one big inside joke between those two they are just cracking up the whole time, very nice show of their dynamic tbh, also you will learn why alex does not have a gf lmao)

Who said it? (cute, thats all I can say)

What´s in the box? (I think about "el tuku tuku" every day, big rec this one)

fishing (listen I wanna talk to whoever at motogp thought up this content cause it cracks me up they really sent these two dudes fishing, looking so out of place, weirdly calm?? and then they haul this massive fucking fish?? the heck?? love it tho)

and then they did this interview afterwards (or before idk I found it randomly) basically talking about cohabitation and living with their parents, its cute edit: lol I forgot this is also where the interviewer asks when marc took the valentino posters down

making their own hand sanitizer (during the pandemic obv, they make them mix a bunch of stuff to make hand sanitizer and surprisingly they managed it, plus marc being a star pupil knowing all the pandemic rules)

there's other people in this fandom who have been around muuch longer so anyone is welcome to add to this!!

[graysparrowao3]

I'm definitely excited for more Cal and Lia content! The way you write their dynamic is always a joy to read!

I was curious: Relating to the Cal and Lia WIP, did Rolan barely figure out what they were doing or did he know the entire time and was just playing dumb? Is there a little snippet you can share from that WIP?

A follow up question that doesn't exactly relate to the WIPS: How did you figure out writing for their dynamic?

No worries about answering those if you want to keep the fic a surprise! Love your writing!

Forest! Hello, this is so lovely! I'm so touched, and so glad you enjoy to read how I write them. I also love your writings on the siblings, it feeds my soul and my heart! I will do very best to answer your questions and hope it is what you would like from them! <3

(I wanted to do my best to answer and this unintentionally got very long and took a while, I do apologize!)

Relating to the Cal and Lia WIP, did Rolan barely figure out what they were doing or did he know the entire time and was just playing dumb?

Based on the idea provided by @faerunsbest I'm going to go with that he figures it out not immediately but very early on. I'm approaching it that he is playing dumb because he decides that's the best way to keep track of them without having to face the awkwardness of confronting them, and he does get a sense of satisfaction for getting one over on them. But he'll be doing things like staying awake until he knows they're back, doing research on their partners, etc., to make sure they're safe.

Is there a little snippet you can share from that WIP?

It's in the notes/planning stage and I don't have enough content yet to share a narrative snippet, but I'm not against sharing it at all! I shall try to remember to do so soon and tag you both! <3

How did you figure out writing for their dynamic?

For writing their dynamic, the first thing I did was listen to/watch their lines and scenes a lot. There's a collection of Rolan's lines here and also in this Youtube video, and there's a Youtube video of Cal and Lia's lines here. I watched all the scenes on Youtube/Twitter I could find of scenes I never got in my playthrough (i.e. the 'bad' ones).

Then, based on what we see in the game, and I try to explore the underlying psychology and extrapolate to new situations. (I think some of this probably veers into 'head canon' territory, so I hope this is okay to share here.)

An example that stands out in my mind is that if Lia dies and Rolan yells at Cal, Cal runs upstairs at Last Light and has ambient lines about how devastated he is, but if the player speaks to him he immediately hides his pain and says he's fine, it's Rolan he's worried about. So, Cal is able to mediate between them and take care of them emotionally at the cost of hiding his own pain, and also note that Rolan and Lia have more difficulty with emotional intelligence & expression and don't provide that same support for him. (This is why in the longest fic I've written so far (not this Cal and Lia fic, but just to make my point), I had Cal sort of crush on and try to spend time with Dammon and then Wyll, not because I wanted to particularly explore a relationship for him in that fic, but because it shows that Cal is looking for the gentleness and ability to be heard (that I thought those two characters in particular would provide) that he doesn't get with Rolan and Lia - noting here not just how they do interact, but how they do not interact, and what impact that would have on them as people.)

Another example is Lia in Act 1 states that she keeps dreaming of waking with her throat slit - so I wrote her as having this as part of a trauma response, and as being terrified, reasonably so, for her safety, even long after the threat has gone. As much as Lia 'wants to do the right thing', she's idealistic about what that is (note her wanting to join a Mercenary Group), and is also battling her own demons. I think I'm getting off topic, sorry!

These are things I keep in mind - what do they want (in general)? What are they missing? How are they coping with the traumas of their lives? And importantly, how does this impact their interactions?

So, what I usually keep in mind in terms of their dynamics when I'm writing them (note this is only my in-game or post-game thoughts and is not exhaustive character analyses, just main points that I think of to try and keep them "in character" as I see them and avoid falling into 'flanderization'):

Cal:

Is trusting, open-minded in his tone and approach (note how he's always had Rolan and Lia to trust in and take the lead so he doesn't have to).

I might use questions more in his dialogue with them.

It's not about him emotionally - it never is, and he never complains about that in the way Lia does - is carrying the emotional weight for the three of them. (If Cal dies, Lia says angrily about Rolan "it's always about him, his pain" - which in some ways was true, but it may be more accurate to say 'it was never about Cal, his pain'.)

He is light-hearted sometimes and does like to joke around, but he's not infantile - this is still a young man who has been through some serious trauma and conflict.

Admires Rolan more than anyone (says so if Rolan dies).

Wants to be heard but won't ask for it, wants to not have to worry about fighting in every sense of the word.

Lia:

Wants to do 'the right thing' but may be idealistic about what that is, wants to be safe (as mentioned before, is traumatized by it all in her own way).

I might drop words from the start of her speech, especially definite articles/indefinite articles/pronouns (i.e. the, a, I). A lot of the characters in BG3 do this because the dialogue writing is tight, but I associate it more with Lia (rightly or wrongly lol) and it emphasizes directness in her speech.

More direct and bold in approach, not always in the most thoughtful way (as she says, she loves them but isn't good at expressing it), but similar to Cal not being infantile, though she's direct it's not pure aggression - it's protection and fear.

I imagine that deep down she knows Cal admires Rolan more - so where does that leave her? But she's not selfish enough to say it.

Rolan:

(I'm sure folks have already talked about him extensively, so I'll try to focus only on my approach to their interactions!)

If in doubt, I try starting his speech with "I". Even I revise it, it's always a good jumping off point for centering himself in the interaction.

Oblivious to or purposely avoids emotional cues or anything that would cause vulnerability, in part for self-protection.

If he goes too far, as long as he's on good terms with the speaker (and he is with them) he does apologize and revise. He's focused on himself but not a complete asshole, when prompted he doesn't want to hurt them and won't take that risk.

People have different head canon for Rolan (and Cal and Lia) childhood, the theme is often belonging and the doubt / insecurity of belonging that always underpins his thinking. Any assholery towards them is self-protective, lack of emotional expression skills, or the only way he knows to achieve his/their goals.

Wants to succeed, to prove himself, to provide.

All three of them:

Limited emotional expression, just in different ways. Not going to say outright how they really feel unless it's an emotional or climactic moment that will absolutely force it.

Want to protect each other, just in different ways. (Broadly, Cal - emotionally, Lia - physically, Rolan - materially).

Love each other deeply - would all do anything, up to and including sacrifice themselves for each other.

Are determined and have their own agency, and doing the best they can.

Are exhausted and coping with trauma differently.

So essentially it's like a constant push and pull between the three of them, with all of them wanting to express love in the ways they know whilst trying to get their own needs met too, and at the same time none of them able to outright talk to each other in a vulnerable way or express their pain, dancing around what they can't say and falling back on what they're good at/their coping skills.

(Oh God, I hope this is what you were hoping for, I'm sorry it's so long I sort of just kept going 😅)

[stevebabey]

ruby hi!!! massive congrats on your milestone, i can't think of anyone more deserving of love than you my dear <33 i'm loving the sights and scenes of hawkins so far, may i request a trip down to lover's lake ❤️‍🔥 "i've had a terrible day at work so just kiss me" from list five with mr loverboy steve harrington? thank you so much love uu and congrats again!!

KAIT HI!!!!! i'm so glad ur enjoying hawkins m'dear and lover's lake with mr. steve harrington? that one's a dreamboat you're a lucky lady hehe <3 thank u thank u im literally giving u a big KISS rn ur so nice to me- i really hope u like this ! i manipulated the prompt a bit & omg accidentally used loverboy u got into my head this so is written for u

Robin's been keeping count of how many times Keith will ask Steve, in a single shift, to re-organise the front display due to inadequacy. That's the word Keith uses. Says it in that terrible drawl in his throat and with those lifeless eyes that don't seem to care when Steve's eye twitches after he's been asked for the third time.

Steve seriously thinks about kicking the entire display to shit.

He nearly does, just to stick it to Keith and permanently his cheeto-dusted fingertips and greasy mop for hair. God, Keith brings out the worst in him. Steve's honestly just stalling at this point, considering he's got about 15 minutes left of this shift. He busies his hands. Doesn't give the perpetually lurking Keith a chance to drag him into some other mindless job.

The 15 minutes crawl by. He's shrugging off his vest 2 mins out, specifically avoiding Keith's gaze as he maneuvers into the break room quickly.

"You're not finished yet, Harrington!" Keith's grating voice follows him in. Steve doesn't let it phase him, gathering his personal items from the employee room without a pause. He can sense Keith behind him in the doorway like a fucking vampire, some villainous presence hovering nearby.

"I could write you up for that, you know that." A crispy crunch. He's still snacking, even as he berates Steve in that bored tone; Steve wonders if today's the day to pick this fight with him. Really considers it. He ends up just clenching his jaw and watching the clock as it ticks over into sweet, sweet free time.

"Sure, Keith. Whatever you say." He grinds out, not even attempting pleasantries. There's a tight smile on his face but it might be a grimace for all Steve cares. He pushes past him and heads for the door.

"Hey Buckley," There it is again, that drawl that drives Steve nuts. "Can you check the front display? Undoubtedly, your Neanderthal friend will have found a way to mess it up and I'm not staying behind to fix it again."

Steve doesn't need to know what Neanderthal means to know when someone's calling him an idiot. He catches the start of Robin's furious glare, whipping towards her manager, but it disappears from view as he pushes out the door. Too hard. It slams against its hinges with a bang.

The steps rush up to meet his feet as he dashes down them. It's all muscle memory, opening the car door, turning the ignition, reversing out of the Family Video parking lot. The road gets swallowed beneath the car as he drives, a titch too fast than the speed limit warrants. Doesn't matter, Steve knows there's a remedy for his bad mood waiting at home.

You're in the kitchen when he gets in the door. He can tell from your shoes, left strewn halfway across the hall and outside the door to the kitchen, like you'd remembered to take them off at the last second. He toes them to the side with a small smile.

You must be in the middle of fixing a cup of something as there's something in your hand that tinks! gently, a teaspoon against porcelain.

Steve leans against the door frame and drinks his fill of love. Watching you be content as ever in his home, haloed in the setting sunlight through the windows, is a special sort of soothe on his soul. He's not sure he'll ever get used to it; or that he wants to.

Steve takes a breath in, thinks back to when you said love? well, love smells like your shampoo to me once, and thinks now that love must smell like the hot chocolate cradled in your hands. Love smells like you in the kitchen, waiting for him to come home.

You turn, catching sight of him. "Steve!"

His chest turns that bit lighter at your excited voice. He smiles and it comes easy. "Hi, sweetheart."

You cross the room to him, abandoning your steaming mug and Steve's arms are already open by the time you reach him. You slide up onto your toes, arms circling his neck, and you're pleasantly surprised when Steve ducks down and buries himself in your neck, his arms around your waist.

"Missed you," He mumbles and releases a sigh. His arms tighten, pulling you closer.

"Missed you too, Steve." You tell him truthfully, running your hand over the back of his head soothingly. You're like a balm to scorched skin, any fleeting bad feelings scampering at your reassuring touches. "Everything okay?"

Steve dredges his head out of his hiding place, staying close. His nose nuzzles against the length of your own, his eyes tired and affectionate.

"Mm." is the non-committal answer he gives you. He presses forward, lips seeking yours but you dodge them and give him a little frown.

"Everything okay?" You check, repeating the question. Steve can't be mad at your insistence, even though you're depriving him of kisses at the current moment. His thumb swipes along your ribcage impatiently.

"I've just... had a terrible day at work," he admits with a sigh. "So, just kiss me? Please."

And how could deny such a sweet request like that? Not when he sounds like your kisses could cure all his ails, could make any bad day a good one.

"Of course, loverboy," you breathe with a grin, eyes searching his face for the usual blush that arises at the pet name. He doesn't disappoint. Cheeks pink and lips even pinker, you tighten your arms around his neck and kiss him warmly. Steve gleefully tastes chocolate on your lips.

"Any time," you murmur when you pull back, and you mean it. Steve takes you up on that without a moment's hesitation.

join the celebration!

[melonteee]

I started watching one piece in like end of 2021/early 2022 and caught up pretty fast because of who and how I am as a person, and I honestly feel like I've become so much more of a better person for it. Like I don't know if I come off that way to other people, but I know that I feel better about life and about myself, and I just feel happier overall. I feel more able to find joy in the smaller things, Brook especially always running through my mind with the line of "I'm so happy I'm alive!" It feels so silly because I really only got into to the show recently, but it feels like it's worked it's way deep into my bones and my soul and I honestly don't know who I would be these days without it.

Anyway I ran into your videos and I love them, I think they're amazing looks into how the characters interact with their story and their world and how their experiences shape them. I love media that focuses on character and story, and liked one piece for that, but watching your videos made me appreciate it so much more. All this to say thanks for making the videos! Sorry this is so long

Anon you've perfectly captured why One Piece has like, charmed me so much. One Piece has genuinely made me rethink things in my life, has made me see things about myself and the world in general I hadn't previously thought about. That may sound stupid and sappy but it's like, watching a series about a group of people who aren't MEANT to be perfect - Luffy isn't MEANT to be a hero nor labels himself one - but he still works to be the best he can be...just did a lot for me idk.

An example is like, when Sanji wanted to save his family in WCI. When Luffy didn't berate him for it, didn't ask him why, didn't question a damn thing, he just said "Well, that's who you are! So I'll help you."

That really opened my eyes in how you can help someone, in how what someone needs isn't immediate reasoning or to be told that's not in their best interest, they just need the support. There's multiple other things One Piece has made me see, but that one was sure a standout.

Also, thank you so much! I'm glad my videos have made you enjoy One Piece more, that's their goal! Heehee <3

[molarbeardoc]

Hey!

I started writing this like back when I first posted the MR Morse code video! Hope you enjoy

I present to you:

A WRITTEN Infection Regretevator au

Erm yeah big reveal idk where I’m going with this enjoy :3

"DAMN IT!"

It hissed, glaring at the beakers that sat before it.

It had been struggling to perfect the perfect poison for decades since that stupid cat was arrested. Yet each time it thought it had something, anything, it blew up in its face.

Sometimes literally…

"What am I doing wrong?! Why must this happen to me?! That flea-bag spent years and prison and come out shooting lasers from her eyes! Yet I can’t perfect basic science! I was head of my league! I controlled everything that happened within my time. I brought life to things who floated in jars! Even if they did turn their backs on me in the end…"

"WHY MUST I FAIL TIME AND TIME AGAIN?!"

It bellowed, its voice awakening its unwilling partner in crime and bringing attention to it from the yellow fool. God did it hate his overly pitched hysterical and nasally voice.

"Maybe it’s just not meant to be. Give up maybe? But then again, you’re about as stubborn as mule, hehehe."

"Silence freak."

"Well he’s got a point MR…"

The shackled being sat up, yawning as he butted in with his own opinion.

"You’ve been workin’ on this project for years. Maybe it’s time to throw in the towel.."

"I fail to see why your thoughts matter?"

"Command heard and followed…"

Despite it not being much of an instruction, MRManeuver knew that the rock downplaying his voice meant to shut up. He learned that the painful way and preferred to not be melted down into a mush like before hand…

"How typical of you! Silencing your lackey when he’s correct. Oh how you never change!"

"Didn’t I tell you to shut up?"

"Hey, my shop my rules. You agreed to follow my terms as long as I allowed you to reside here without fear of Ms. Retro, Jermbo, or Mach attacking you… Again…"

"I don’t fear them."

"It says, its hands trembling as it holds the beaker in its claws."

Enphoso chuckled at the joke, though the rock found it less than amusing, snapping its fingers and watching malicious as the man convulsed and held his throat.

"You test my patience every second you open your mouth. You work for me, understand..?"

It listened for a response from him as his mouth foamed before he choked out a silent ‘yes sir’. With the mover being reminded of his place, it returned the air to his lungs, ignoring his heaving gasps and coughs.

"And I thought I was cruel…"

The yellow grinning face adjusted his clothing, shooting a sympathetic glare towards Maneuver.

"You don’t compare to a God…"

"A fallen God you mean!"

MR let out an infuriated growl, but Enphoso knew he was correct.

Falling from the heavens weakened him significantly. Whatever he did, he could return with equal power.

"You and I both know I’m right…"

"My hatred for you grows daily."

"You hear that? It loves me."

"Shut up."

"Nuh uh…"

"You’re worse than that gradient."

"Okay wow… That’s an insult if I’ve heard one…"

"You’re right, that was too harsh, sorry…"

"It’s okay sweetheart."

MRManeuver listened to them, growing uncomfortable…

"MR?"

"Yes Enphoso?"

"I don't know if I can regret in this elevator alone."

"Me neither."

"It's just so scary without you…"

"I don't wanna lose you…"

"I have to tell you something-"

"Ever since the day I saw you-"

"You were special I can't lose you."

"I'll be so sad-"

"You’ll be so mad-"

"I won't be glad-"

"Here without you-"

"I'll be so sad if you walk away"

"This elevator just won't be the same"

"I'm the only person left to blame-"

"This digital circus just won't be the same"

"Ever since the day I saw you-"

"You were special I can't lose you."

"I'll be so sad-"

"You’ll be so mad-"

"I won't be glad-"

"Here without you-"

"I'll be so sad if you walk away"

"This elevator just won't be the same"

"I'm the only person left to blame-"

"This elevator just won't be the same"

MRManeuver could only watch in horror as they made out. Jaw dropped as confused terror filled his eyes.

"What the fu-"

Lmao

Happy April Fools day

Keep fooling around my silly little critters!

And if you’re upset about it not being serious

Don’t worry

Some of this is taken from the actual fic wink wink nudge nudge