#and show he does have/can actually open his eyes

[mixingandmelting]

If it's not a bother for you, can you please write batfam (including Bruce) and superfam getting jealous when reader subtly mentions her ex when they do something similar to her ex bf. (e.g. reading a book/watching a show/an activity that her ex used to love etc.)

Thank you!!!

A/N: Hello Anon! Sorry that this was sitting in my drafts for so long... 😔 I wasn't sure if you were meaning literally everyone in both families (batboys, batgirls, Jace Fox, supergirls, superboys, etc.) which would've made this post even longer and taken more time... If there are characters not written here you specifically would like, let me know

BATFAM FEAT:

Bruce:

Everything he does is subtle. The stiffness in his muscles, the tick in his jaw. All you did was mention how the way he readjusted his Rolex around his wrist reminded you of your ex. But since when did the things he did remind you of the other guy? 

“Must be a thing.” He chuckles, the grip around on his mug tightening as he takes a sip of his coffee. 

Bits and pieces of his control over his emotions continue to chip off. There’s irritation building up from sensing nostalgia in your voice when he casually asks about your ex. Under the pretext of curiosity, of course. A scowl set on his face hidden behind a newspaper without him knowing he’s making one. It’s to the point where he fails to school his expression on time when you push down the newspaper. For a moment you stare at him, shock and awe meeting cold and stormy. 

“Playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne… is jealous?” 

His eyes widen for a second. To think he was that jealous to where he couldn’t keep up a facade…

He frowns when your lips curl up into a grin. Let’s just say the two of you made up real quickly afterwards when he suddenly pulls your wrist towards him.

Jason:

Sure, people can be reminded of their ex but come on. He reminded you of yours over how he shakes his hair out after taking off his helmet? That’s way too oddly specific.

“From what? Riding a street bike?”  He snorts, placing his helmet on the bench next to him with a thud from restrained strength. 

His mind knows there’s nothing to think too hard about; your ex is an ex and he’s currently yours. But clearly his heart doesn’t, churning and coiling with awful emotions he’s all too familiar with. He goes to grab a rag and wrench for “extra maintenance” when it’s actually him finding it hard to keep himself cool-headed if he doesn’t keep himself busy. 

“Jason? Jason. Look at me. It’s not what you’re thinking of.”  The only indication that he’s listening is the glance he tosses over his shoulder, still unamused and an eyebrow raised.

“I-,” The eyebrow raises higher from your sigh, “You just do it so naturally and still manage to make it attractive, okay? My ex had to try, forcing a Justin Bieber’s hair flip. That’s all.”

He gets you to break into laughter when he grabs you by the waist and cuddles you, grumbling how you should’ve said so from the start.

Tim:

His fingers hover over the keys for a second. Then he goes back typing. Nothing is amiss albeit the sounds of the mouse and keyboard clicking a tiny bit louder. He’s not bothered. Nope. Even if it was over how he cracked open his can of energy drink with a single hand, he’s not overthinking it whatsoever. 

“Yeah?” 

His voice stays steady, masking his questions as curiosity while in a small corner of the monitor, he’s pulling up and scrolling through the file on your ex. Net worth? Minimal. Job? Mediocre. There’s nothing about your ex sharing this habit or any other habits with him. But he considers that his fault, having brushed the other as unnoteworthy (which he does with anyone who breaks your heart). He can feel annoyance bubbling inside of him from your reminiscence with the other and his inability to pass it off as a simple talk about exes. Wait. Was this why? Because of the one time he mentioned about his past relationships?

“...Tim? Are you jealous?”

“W-what? No.” 

He flushes when he catches your unimpressed expression on the reflection of the screen. Instantly, he’s turned around, surprised to comforted when you start showering him with affection. Later on, he gives in and quit trying to get back at your ex for hurting you.

Minkhoa Khan/"Ghost-Maker":

Many had purposely brought up their exes to him before, trying to poke him for attention or gauge for a reaction. And most often he’d smirk and indulge them, finding the action as “cute”. 

But right now, his lips are set into a straight line. Constantly swirling the champagne in his flute rather than drinking it down. 

“Oh, I reminded you of your ex?” 

Lacking the feeling for empathy or fear, he’s never had found himself feeling jealous especially over an old flame of his partner. Right now? His mind is filled with irrationality and possessiveness. More than peeved for such a small thing to trigger an unneeded memory. 

He’s not one to usually filter or hold back on his opinion.  However, currently, there’s twice as much sass and bluntness as he shares his thoughts on the other in response to how fond you sounded when talking about your ex’s shared habit with him where your eyes widen from how out of character he was behaving. 

“Oh my god, you’re so jealous!” 

He refuses to give you the satisfaction, choosing to stay quiet and finish his glass. But when you don’t stop gloating, his hand slowly makes its way towards your shoulder to have you stop in a more… efficient way.

SUPERFAM FEAT:

Clark Kent:

“O-oh, really? I didn’t know your ex wore glasses…”

It’s bothering him so much. He doesn’t like it  that your ex does the same thing as him with the whole pushing up glasses if they were to slide down ever so slightly. It goes from him clasping his hands in his lap to resting them on his thighs in fists. More from him trying to stop said habit than anything else. 

Frustration and restlessness is how he gets, shuffling every few seconds so he’d at least feel comfortable on the bench he shares with you. His smile more awkward and his voice more strained. He wants to be the good boyfriend that would support you in every way: emotionally, mentally, and physically. So he tries to stay empathetic but his response stays as half-hearted caused by the ugly emotion coursing in his heart and brain. 

“Clark…? You’re not possibly jealous, are you?” 

Instantly flusters, cheeks matching his Superman suit while he denies that he is. 

“No! I’m not jealous whatsoever!” He tries to endure your stare, only to sigh and wave the white flag. “Yeah…. I actually am.” 

He lets out a grunt when you wrap your arms around him, finally breaking into a smile when you call him a silly man and that you’re stuck to him with superglue.

Conner Kent:

He stops and turns towards you, an eyebrow cocked up. 

“Uh, no. I don’t think so. This?” He flicks up the collar of his leather jacket in front you. “Is a Superboy signature move originating from yours truly.” 

So obviously your ex was copying him.  Not similar or “doing the same thing”.  But apparently, you beg to differ. He keeps brushing his hair back and fiddle with his shades, trying to suppress his irk of you continuing to push that he is similar to the other. Huffing at every point you make and rolling his eyes. 

He just doesn’t get it. Why he’s feeling this way and why he can’t act like normal. It’s not his first time hearing something like this from others, taking it in stride and joking how he’s that amazing that everyone wants to be him. But That’s not what’s happening right now. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, toying with a can near his foot. 

“You’re jealous.”

“No???”

Jealous? Him? No. No way. He’s Superboy, why would he be jealous? Despite his denial, his face starts to resemble his pants as you accurately guess what was running through his mind. At least part of his dignity gets restored when you kiss his cheek, calling him cute to which he cheekily replies with a duh.

Kong Kenan:

The baseball lands into his hand with a satisfying plot while he’s looking at you with a confused gaze. 

“Me tossing baseballs… reminds you of your ex…” He’s careful and slowly enunciating each word, making sure he didn’t (more like he hopes) misheard you. 

He goes back tossing the baseball with pursed lips and blowing air through his nose. It’s only concern. Worry. There’s nothing that he and your ex share in common. So he’d think you wouldn’t stretch it that far about getting reminded over something mundane as tossing a baseball. 

His tosses get harder, his eyes straining from keeping them trained on the ball. He makes an effort to at least voice out that he gets it, quite literally saying exactly that as he proceeds to explain why you’re wrong E.g., he’s smarter. He’s skilled. He’s Superman-

“Kenan, you know you’re jealous. Right?”

He startles, snapping his head towards you.

“What do you mean? I’m just saying-”

Trust for it to happen as soon as he takes his eyes off, the baseball would come falling on his head.  Coiling over, he yelps then scowls with tinted cheeks. At least you comfort him in the midst of your laughter, rubbing circles on his back which releases the tension in him as you promise you have no intentions of leaving him.

[zevrra]

[𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬.⋆˚࿔]

synop: some drabbles, first kisses & how they’d go with my fav arcane men!

ft. gn!reader, jayce, viktor, & vander

a/n: should i flesh any of these out? >:3

(this is sfw but slightly suggestive w/ a lil angst)

𝐉𝐀𝐘𝐂𝐄

— is the type that once he gets a taste, he doesn’t want to stop.

his hazel eyes glance down at your lips and they linger for a long moment, full of want and need as he debates on kissing you; can see the gears turning inside his head. until jayce realizes he’s staring for a little longer than he should and breaks out in a little embarrassed smile, flashing his fangs and that cute little gap in his teeth. “sorry…” he apologizes, ripping his eyes back up to yours.

“it’s okay.” you whisper; as if you were any better than he was, staring at his tilted lips. craving and wanting him with so much tension, it could surely be cut with a knife.

jayce chuckles nervously under his breath but leans forward despite his hesitation, pushing aside any and all of his worries, as he presses his lips gently against yours. it’s a small, soft peck of a kiss; just enough for him to get a sweet taste of you. he leans back a little then, eyes hazy as if he’s become intoxicated with just one kiss. and before either of you can voice an opinion on your first kiss, jayce is eagerly moving on.

“one more.” he mutters, seeking your lips again. he plants a firm kiss against you this time. his breathing is quickly turning into wild rasps as he presses his lips again and again into yours. his hand are roaming along every inch of your body. fingers grasping at your thighs, digging gently into your skin, smoothing across your waist, tugging you into his own lap while his lips continue to find yours.

he whispers countless of pleas and begs of just “one more” between each kiss until they’re no longer just quick pecks and evolve into fuller, far more passionate kisses. one giant hand runs up your thigh again while his other moves to hook around the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. “taste so good.” jayce whispers just as his tongue runs along your bottom lip.

“more.” he mutters across your reddening lips. “please need a little more…” he adds in a huff, waiting for you to give him the green light.

he’s got your head spinning in circles; breathless while your lips still tingle from his desperate make out. your face burns with a drunken blush from the kiss and you’re not entirely sure if you can find the right words to say, so instead you capture his lips now.

and it’s the only answer he needs before he’s desperately sweeping you back into a passionate make out session.

𝐕𝐈𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐑

— is the type who kisses you by total accident one day and then flees.

it had just been you and viktor in the lab together for days on end. the two of you had worked through countless of formula errors, spent every sleepless night together, drank enough coffee that it could replace every ounce of water in your body; and yet you two enjoyed it more than anything. you laughed, brainstormed, and have come closer than you’ve ever had before.

it was…a little obvious that you liked viktor, well to your knowledge it was but not so much to viktor; or so it seemed.

“you’ve done it!” you exclaim, excitement creeping into your voice as you stand from your chair as vik does the same. you crowd over vik’s shoulder to get a better look at the smooth, luminous glass ball, eyes wide open as you stare at the stabilized hex crystal before you. “you’ve actually done it!”

“no,” vik speaks, ripping off his goggles as he stares up at you. “i could not have done this without you. you’ve contributed so much! we did it.” he adds before tossing his goggles off to the side. he quickly tries to gather any paperwork and journal entries the two of you had written in the last few days; eager to rush off and show his work to heimerdinger and the council. and he says little else, too excited to show off his breakthrough, pocketing the hex crystal as he hurries for the lab door.

in his flurry, he forgets a very important piece of paperwork. you grab it, turning towards the door to the lab where viktor had started heading off towards to, waving it in the air before vik can get too far. “viktor! you forgot something!”

vik stops just at the door and spins on his heel to come hurriedly back to you. but instead of taking the note and continuing on his journey to the council room, he’s instead closing the distance between you and him very quickly; quick enough you don’t have time to think, let alone react as vik is sweeping forward to press his lips fully into yours.

he kisses you then, passionate and full of just pure excitement for the things you two have managed to do. and the kiss is far more amazing than anything you could have imagined but it’s cut entirely too short when vik is suddenly realizing all too fast exactly what he’s done and breaking away. he backs up, damn near tripping over his own cane in his hurry, as he takes the paper right out of your hand. he mutters a goodbye and nothing else before he’s gone; just as quickly as he had kissed you.

you stand frozen, in humbled shock, debating if that had actually happened or not. but the warmth blooming across your lips and face is a dead giveaway that yes, it did in fact happen.

and you smile with the thought that this could be the start of something wonderful…and yet it’s only the start of viktor avoiding you at any cost.

𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑

— is the type to be a little embarrassed because of his age but really he’s been holding back for too long.

“you don’t really want this, do ya? i’m practically an old man now.” vander laughs from behind his bar top. he sips on the cheap whiskey he’s been drinking the entire night, glancing at you over the rim.

everyone else from the bar had gone home for the night but you had decided to stick around for a little bit longer; just for this. for him. you swirl your drink around inside your cup, glancing between the moving liquid and vander’s handsome face. you had been dropping hints for, god knows how long, that you wanted him, and now that it was just the two of you…you were willing to push your luck a little to get exactly what you wanted.

“mmm i know.” you respond, taking a sip off your own alcohol of choice that night. “that’s what i like about you though.” you add with a smirk.

your response only makes him laugh again, shaking his head. he pushes his cup out of the way and off to the side, most likely empty and definitely forgotten for the rest of the night, as he settles his hands on the edge of his bar. “that so?” he asks with a grin.

you nod, mirroring his grin right back at him. if you were given the chance sooner, you would’ve dragged him out of the bar two and a half hours ago.

“what if this old man can’t keep up with you?”

now it was your turn to chuckle as you crawl up onto the bar, sliding across the wood surface until you’re sitting pretty right between his settled hands. you move your legs to dangle on the other side of the counter, closing the gap as much as you can. “guess you’re just going to have to find out, hmm?” you respond, running a hand down the front of his broad chest.

while he’s still a little hesitant, it doesn’t take anymore convincing as soon as the distance is closed. his gaze is hungry, always has been, as he settles his eyes onto your pretty face. he’s sucking in a deep breath when the last bit of his resolve vanishes. and it’s his turn to close the gap now as he captures your lips in one swift movement. he’s feverishly kissing you, deep and full of yearning. gripping the edge of the bar like his life depends on it, keeping himself upright and from what you can only assume is to hold himself back just a tiny bit; didn’t want to scare you off with just how badly he wanted you too.

vander grunts against your lips, reaching with a large hand to caress the side of your neck, deepening the kiss with a swirl of his tongue meshing into your own before he’s huffing a deep breath and breaking off the kiss. he pants against your slowly swelling lips, still keeping himself close but far enough away you’d have to chase after his lips if you wanted anymore.

“gonna ask again, you sure about this?” vander mutters. and you can see it in his gray eyes, the want and the need he holds for you and how he’s holding himself back, just in case you may have changed your mind.

but that was impossible. you wanted him and only him. you roll your eyes at his slightly concerned tone of voice before you slide your arms up to lock around his neck. “i’m more than sure. now shut up and fucking kiss me.”

[litnerdwrites]

Yes to all of this. 100% Yes!

And to add on, I think Feyre ended up getting exactly what she wanted.

She got upset about the whole 'no such thing as a high lady' thing, in a conversation she started by stating how the title of High Lady made her uncomfortable. Between this and the way she chants in her head, while opening gifts, praying that they aren't crowns, imply that the idea of having equal authority and political power upset her. However, what Feyre did want, was to paint, help rebuild after the devastation of Amarantha's reign, and not be stuck indoors all the time.

There were a couple problems with each of her desires though. Her trauma reaction prevented her from doing things she enjoyed, due to both survivors guilt and a associating red with blood. Going out was dangerous, due to her unstable powers, the instability of the court, and the risk of Hybern/others coming after her (remember that she's untrained in both magic, and fighting, still trying to become properly accustomed to her fae body and new lifestyle, and panics at the sight of anything resembling blood, which probably would include actual blood). All of these are valid concerns, but Feyre's desires a valid too. It was up to her and Tamlin to communicate, grow their relationship, and try to find solutions, alternatives, and otherwise attempt to move forward together, while supporting each other, setting healthy boundaries, and making their expectations clear. If it couldn't work out, or they weren't meshing, then they should've broken up amicably.

But this post isn't about their communication issues.

Stepping back, I think what Feyre wants is power without the responsibility or drawbacks.

She wants to have her say in politics, or matters regarding the court, when she feels like it, but refuses to acknowledge the political ramifications of marrying The High Lord of Spring, being the woman who broke Amarantha's Curse, and having the powers of all seven HLs after being resurrected by them. She wants to be Tamlin's equal in every way, but when it comes to the idea of equal political status, she expresses discomfort. She wants power equal to his, without the title. Yet, she refuses to acknowledge or even deal with or learn more about the political ramifications of her circumstances.

Feyre laments her circumstances, but doesn't make an effort to educate herself about them. She never tries to learn how to read or ask about the laws of the Spring Court. She's upset when people cite that there are rules and traditions she and they need to follow, but makes no effort to learn them in any capacity, so she might understand her situation, and take action accordingly. Instead, she shows open disdain for those rules and traditions, without properly trying to communicate her problem, leaving her looking like a toddler.

Now, Velaris is the opposite of this.

There's no danger because no one knows it exists.

There's no distance between her and the people because they've spent centuries living next door to their ruler and his inner court, and can see him regularly when he hosts those meet & greets where his people raise their issues to him.

They aren't bombarding her with their gratitude because, a) It was the spring Court that was cursed, and b) The only issues Velaris saw, from what we can tell, was no trade, meaning no spices. It's clear that the area warded was large enough to not only encompass the city, but enough farmland to feed the entire population for fifty years, otherwise having very little over all impact on their quality of life.

Velaris has been protected on the blood of Illyria and the Hewn City, facing little to no significant changes in their lifestyles as a result. Both during war, and under Amarantha.

The political climate of the Velaris is not only stable, but has no impact on other courts, nor does it draw the eye of foreign nations because, again, nobody knows it exists. Feyre can do what she wants, because there's little consequence in doing so, while in Velaris. If Feyre fucks up political matters, it isn't going to have many ramifications, because the citizens will just laugh it off and carry on with their day.

If she uses her powers, before the other HLs learn about them, she doesn't have to worry about being spied on, anyone learning about them, because it doesn't matter in Velaris. If she wants to spend time painting at a studio in town, or volunteering, there's no risk of her life being in danger, because nobody knows this city exists. If anyone is looking for her, they will probably check either The Hewn City, Illyria, or any other small towns/villiages/cities that may exist because nobody suspects that there's a secret other city.

Meanwhile, none of those factors can be applied to the Spring Court, because while there, all eyes are on her and there would be ramifications to her actions.

It makes sense Feyre becomes High Lady in Velaris, because it means nothing. It requires nothing from her. There's little weight on her shoulders, and being uneducated isn't an issue because there's nobody around to critique her or how much/little she works. To the citizens, she's more like a neighbour, and we have no evidence that any of them leave Velaris at all, so we can assume they haven't personally seen the other two thirds of their court. With that in mind, what have they got to compare her or Rhys to, given the luxury they live in.

Of course she doesn't do High Lady duties. She doesn't have any, and if she did, they wouldn't matter. It's not like they look after anywhere other than Velaris anyway.

In regards to Nesta, I agree that she isn't able to rule either, but she has the most potential. It's important to understand that when we're told that Nesta was 'raised to marry a prince', it doesn't mean she's versed in politics. At least not more than is necessary for social gatherings. Aside from birthing heirs, and possibly hosting events, a Princess or Queen would be responsible for managing the household, meaning Nesta was likely raised to do just that. When they got their wealth back, it was likely her running and managing the household, especially while her father was away.

Ultimately, Nesta's education didn't give her the skills a politition would need, she has the most potential to learn, and even without that, I still think she'd do a better job than Feyre. At the very least, she can read, and has the initiative to go learn how to do it, if she doesn't know.

doesn’t surprise me feyre doesn’t do her high lady duties and she only brings it up for her own interests bc remember how much she brought up tamlin not making her a high lady?

tamlin would have made her his lady, same duties now she is doing now except her title has “high” word in it

“tamlin never saw me as his equal” bc your not! you don’t even know the basics of fae world!

tamlin not seeing feyre his equal for position of ruling does not mean he didn’t love or value her

it’s most likely tamlin thought they had all the time in the world now and he would teach her as they’d go

and is like what’s wrong with that?? some self reflection would go a long way feyre

she isn’t educated

she knows nothing about the faes or lands

has no training in politics

has no idea how to behave at court

she knows nothing

feyre had no reason to believe she is worthy of being tamlin’s or anyone’s equal in a position of leadership over a court

all she did was free tamlin, who then killed amarantha

if she believes it should be bc of love like honey, that’s not how it works. again it shows she has no knowledge of the land, of fae and the world of power

if it was human lands and politics then it’d make sense, they don’t follow magic bound laws

does that mean kallias sees viviane, who was in charge while he was UtM, as weak? no

if feyre wants to hate tamlin for not teaching her anything like girl at first u didn’t care about it and then u were traumatised and whisked away to nc, when was he suppose to teach u??

even if we ignore magic choosing the ruler rule….

she married a high lord and got her title, but she hasn’t earned it

it would be one thing if she worked after getting it through marriage but she hasn’t. all she did was destroy a court, attack lady autumn, look down on her citizens like her mate and opened a paint studio like?? that’s not ruling

“i’m the high lady of night court, i can do as i please” but u can’t honey, that’s not how it works

it’s a title she shows off but she doesn’t do the job it requires, and i don’t see how she is respected for it- for being a high lady

feyre hasn’t earned the title of being a high lady

she hadn’t even earned a position of power or a position in a court

for nesta, i don’t believe she’s ready nor has earned a title of a ruler either, but she is educated enough to be a part of a court

nesta was meant to married for power but it’s feyre who actually did

looking back, it’s crazy how much tamlin not naming her a high lady bothered her and she did no self reflection on it

[harrywavycurly]

Worst Mob Boss Ever: Book Club

Part 1: Here

A/N: I wasn’t planning on a part 2 but here we are because I got hit with inspiration, so enjoy✨

CW: Language, mentions of Harry’s “job”, mentions of past violent acts (broken nose), multiple “threats” of violence towards one person.

Tag List: @mema10 @angeldavis777 @outofthisworl-d @howling-wolf97 @umadirectioner @fangirl509east

Summary: Harry joins you for book club and it doesn’t go the way he imagined it would ✨

“They aren’t going to let you in dressed like that.” You warn the tall green eyed man who is standing next to you holding your slippers outside the parked car that’s currently in a driveway of a house he’s never been to before. Harry quirks a brow as he looks down at his suit, not sure why his attire would keep him from being able to enjoy an evening discussing a subpar romance novel. You shake your head and give Mitch a glare as you grab your backpack off the floor of your car. “You better bring it back with a full tank or I’m kicking your ass.” Your brother just rolls his eyes as he watches you sling a strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Just call me when it’s done.” You just nod and go to close the door. “And uh tell Sydney I said-” You close the door on him before he can finish his sentence making him laugh as you shoot him the bird before turning and facing the house.

“May I ask what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ignore Harry as you make your way up the path that leads to the front door of your bestfriend’s house. “Do they have an issue with Gucci or something?” He asks as he follows closely behind you while Mitch begins to back out of the driveway so he can go run the errands he needed to borrow your car for.

“I told you this is a cozy book club meaning you can’t just show up in a suit and honestly no one gives a shit if it’s Gucci or not.” You explain to him as you take the pair of slippers out of his hands that you made him hold for you while you got the rest of your stuff from the car.

“If I take the jacket off and roll up the sleeves it can give cozy vibes.” He offers making you roll your eyes because both of you know that nothing will make his suit look cozy.

“Just don’t embarrass me this-” Harry’s attention moves from you to the front door of the house as it swings open revealing someone he hasn’t seen in months, dressed in a matching pink and white stripped pajama set and white slippers.

“What the actual fuck is Harry Styles doing on my front porch?” You look at Morgan and then over your shoulder to Harry who looks more amused than annoyed or even shocked at her question.

“Good to see you too Morgan.” He greets your bestfriend with a smile making her cross her arms over her chest as she glares at him.

“I must have died and gone to hell because there is no way this is actually happening.” You raise an eyebrow at her as you try to ever remember her ever mentioning knowing Harry but you come up empty as the two of them just stare at one another.

“Uh how do you know him?” You ask making Morgan finally acknowledge you and you could laugh at how her face changes from a scowl to a soft smile as soon as her eyes meet your, but then she lets out an annoyed huff as she looks away from you so she can go back to glaring at the man behind you.

“That’s my cousin’s old boss. I met him at a holiday party a year or so ago.” Harry can’t help but feel his jaw clench as she motions at him with one of her red acrylic nails, not liking the tone she’s using at all. “He’s an asshole and-”

“I’m an asshole? Your cousin was the asshole or did you forget the reason why he no longer works for me?”

“So he borrowed some money-”

“I didn’t know stealing was the same thing as borrowing?”

“He paid it back.”

“Yeah after I broke his nose and threatened to beak his kneecaps with a crowbar.” Your eyes go wide as Harry tells Morgan what he did to her cousin as if it’s the most casual conversation he’s had all day. But to your surprise all Morgan does is place her hands on her hips and narrow her eyes at him while Harry just stands there unbothered.

“Oh please as if you ever do anything yourself you had Frank do it for you.” She snaps at him making Harry let out a chuckle as he shakes his head in disbelief that of all the people in this city you could be friends with you somehow manage to pick someone who can’t stand him and all because he fired her cousin for stealing from him. And if Harry’s being honest she’s lucky her cousin is even still breathing but he’d never voice that out loud to her since she’s already looking at him like she wants to strangle him with her barehands.

“Frank? You think I sent Frank to deal with your idiot cousin? I wouldn’t trust him with my coffee order.” You feel like you’ve been standing on Morgan’s front porch for an hour when in reality it’s only been a few minutes but you decide in this moment you’ve heard enough and just want to go inside and change out of your work uniform.

“I’m going to go change while the two of you finish catching up.” Morgan looks at you and smiles as she moves to the side giving you enough space to walk through her front door, leaving her alone with Harry on the porch.

“Listen Morgan I’m not here to talk about your cousin or work I’m just here for book club.” Harry’s voice is calm and controlled, it doesn’t hold a single bit of the annoyance he has bubbling inside of him right now as he watches you enter the house and turn down a hallway so you’re no longer in his line of sight. Doing his best to hide the fact he doesn’t enjoy not being able to see you, he is willing to say whatever he needs in order to get inside the house.

“Fine but you’re not stepping a foot inside my house until you explain why you’re here with my bestfriend who doesn’t have anything to do with you or your business.” Harry can tell by her voice that she’s serious, she would make him sit outside on the porch all night until he gave her the details she’s looking for so he just nods before running a hand through his hair.

“I got into her car thinking it was mine and now here we are.” Morgan gives him a look that lets him know she isn’t buying a single word he’s saying.

“You got into her car thinking it was yours? Why because it’s a big black suv?” Morgan furrows her brows as Harry lets out an annoyed sigh and just shrugs in response making her roll her eyes. “God you’re such a narcissist.”

“So I’ve been told.” He says with a smirk as he remembers a very similar conversation he had with you earlier.

“You can’t come in dressed like that.” Morgan states as she eyes his suit and Harry for a moment considers just using your phone so he can call Eric to come get him but he really wants to see what this book club is all about since you were willing to risk your life by threatening his head of security just to get to it on time.

“Sorry I missed the memo that went over the dress code but this is all I have.” He explains making Morgan rub her lips together as she contemplates several options in her head, and when she finally gives Harry a smirk he knows he’s not going to like what she’s about to tell him.

“Fine just lose the jacket and you have to wear slippers.”

“I don’t wear slippers.”

“Then you don’t come inside.” Morgan watches Harry run a hand over his face as he lets out a sigh of defeat before looking at her and motioning towards the front door.

“Fine lead the way then.” She smiles and turns around to lead him into the house. “Just please don’t make them fuzzy.”

You walk out of Morgan’s bedroom finally feeling a bit more relaxed now that you’re out of your work clothes and in your gray sweat-shorts and pink t shirt, you smile as you walk down the hall and can hear the sound of Sydney’s voice. When you turn to go into the living room you feel like you just entered a weird alternate universe because Harry is sitting on the couch with his sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows, his suit jacket hung over the armrest of the couch, a pair of red and white fuzzy slippers with hearts all over them on his feet that are propped up on Morgan’s ottoman and a glass of wine in his hand. You look over to his left and see Sydney sitting next to him with her back against the armrest so she’s facing him with her wine glass clutched in both hand as her eyes go wide with a wild kind of excitement at something he just said.

“Wait you like-you can do that?” Sydney asks making Harry just nod in response as he takes a sip of his wine while you walk over to the loveseat across from the couch.

“He can do what?” You ask making Harry’s eyes travel across the room until they find yours and you ignore the small flutter your heart does when he gives you a smile as if he hasn’t seen you in ages when it’s just been ten minutes.

“He can beat up Johnny for me.” Sydney answers with an excitement you haven’t heard from her ever since her ex, Johnny cheated on her a few weeks ago.

“I’m surprised you haven’t done it yourself.” He’s looking at you as he speaks and you roll your eyes as you lean over to grab the bottle of wine off the coffee table so you can pour yourself some but Harry is quicker than you so he beats you to it. Placing his own glass down on the coffee table, he picks up the bottle of white wine and an empty glass. “You’re quite scary when you’re annoyed so I can’t image how terrifying you could be to someone who really pissed you off.” He adds as he holds the full glass of wine out for you to take, an annoying grin on his face.

“She tried but he-” Sydney begins but then pauses to take a sip of wine.

“He what?” All the lightheartedness leaves Harry’s voice as he turns to look at Sydney and she swallows the sip of wine in her mouth before she turns to look at you which makes Harry follow her gaze, his green eyes a shade darker as they stare into yours. You want to laugh at how serious he is but you don’t, you oddly find it kind of nice knowing he seems upset at the mere idea of someone doing anything to you.

“He called the cops on me.” You answer for Sydney with a chuckle as you lean back into the cushions of the loveseat, doing your best to get comfortable.

“That’s because Johnny is a little bitch who was scared shitless the moment he saw you pull up into his driveway with that baseball bat.” You roll your eyes as Morgan explains what happened as she walks into the living room and places a tray of snacks down on the coffee table. Harry can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto his face as he imagines you in a fit of rage pulling up to someone’s house holding a baseball bat.

“Well he sure didn’t seem scared when I used it to smash his windshield. Seemed more angry than anything.” Harry takes a moment to look around the living room, as far as book clubs go he feels like it’s on the smaller side since it’s only the three of you and then him but he also for some reason feels the same way he does when he enters a meeting that’s just with his top men. So he can’t even stop himself before he says what comes to his mind next.

“Are you lot in a gang? Is that what this book club is actually for? Just a cover up for your meetings to discus who needs to be met with a baseball bat in their driveway?” All three of you look at him with playful glares making him just quirk a brow when Morgan takes a sip of her wine and looks away from him first so she can go into the kitchen to grab some napkins.

“Do you not have friends Harry? Because not every group of friends that are willing to go to jail for each other is a gang.” Sydney asks as she reaches over and gently places a hand on Harry’s knee and you have to rub your lips together to keep the laugh inside when you watch her give his knee a nice reassuring pat. “If you don’t that’s fine you’re like a big deal so-”

“Don’t feed his ego please he’s actually the worst mob boss ever he doesn’t even have a phone.”

“You don’t have a phone?”

“I have a phone I just don’t have it on me right now.”

“What? So how do your uhm people know where you’re at?”

“I had to-”

“He called his security guy on my phone.”

“Oh is he cute? This security guy?”

“He had a nice phone voice.” You answer with a shrug before taking a sip of your wine while Harry has to bite his tongue to keep him from saying the worst things about Eric just to keep your friend away from him and for you to want to take back the thing about his nice phone voice. “His name is Eric.”

“Eric? Oh I know Eric. He’s your type Syd.” Morgan states as she places the napkins down and finally takes her spot next to you with her wine glass, she gives Sydney a playful wink making her let out a laugh.

“You can do better than Eric he’s not the best when it comes to dating someone.”

“I didn’t say I was tying to date him Harry.” Sydney mumbles as she takes her hand off his knee making you lean your head back and laugh when you see Harry close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose with his free hand as the realization of what Sydney actually means hits him.

“Well I have no comment on how he performs in that department.” He answers as he brings his wine glass up to his lips to take a rather large sip.

“But seriously you’d like-like really have someone beat Johnny up for me?” Sydney asks shyly as if she doesn’t fully believe that Harry has the connections or the time to deal with her ex boyfriend who he doesn’t even know. You look at Morgan because she’s the only other person in the room that knows what Harry does for a living and the type of people he’s associated with, she’s already looking at you and playfully wiggles her eyebrows as she sips her wine.

“Syd he could have Johnny more than just beat up.” Morgan says as she looks away from you and over to the girl who is now looking at Harry with a suspicious expression on her face. “He could have him swimming with the fishes if you know what I mean.” Sydney’s eyes go wide while Harry as usual looks completely unbothered as he turns his head so he can look at the girl who now seems a bit concerned with how close she’s sitting to him now that she knows what he’s capable of.

“The term is swimming with the fishes.” Harry corrects with a gentle smile while still looking at Sydney, Morgan just lets out a huff as she leans over to grab an apple slice from the snack tray on the coffee table. “And while yes I could make that happen I don’t really think it would be necessary in this situation.” You watch in amusement as Sydney stares at Harry with a hand clutching her chest and the other holding onto her wine glass for dear life.

“Okay well what would you do to him then?” You ask out of pure curiosity because you want to know what sort of punishment he thinks is fitting for Johnny, hoping it’s nothing too disturbing since he’s already mentioned to you how he has cars blown up with people he doesn’t like or sees as a threat as if it’s no big deal.

“Well in situations like these death is too nice so you simply make them wish for death just so the torture can end.” Harry doesn’t want to come off too harsh or make any of the girls in the room fear him, especially you so he does his best to make his tone soft and gentle even if the words are far from either of those things. But given how Morgan’s mouth is slightly hung open and Sydney’s eyebrows are almost raised so high they are hitting her hairline he would say his method didn’t work as well as he intended.

“Holy shit.”

“Did you-you say torture?”

“Jesus Harry you can’t talk about torturing someone so badly they beg for death while wearing fuzzy slippers at a spicy book club meeting.” Your words have Harry looking down at his feet and immediately rolling his eyes at the horrendous slippers that Morgan forced him to wear just so he could gain entry to her house.

“I’m sorry I just-”

“You’d be willing to do that? For me?” Everyone’s heads turn to look at Sydney, Harry feels an anger beginning to burn inside of him as Sydney looks at him with eyes that tell him she’s not used to people being so willing to do things for her let alone have someone hurt on her behalf and he knows it’s because no one has treated her the way she deserves.

“It’s the least I could do for you love.” He answers making a small blush creep its way onto her cheeks. “And if I’m being honest I wouldn’t really be doing it for you. I’d be doing it for myself because he just sounds like someone who needs to be taught a lesson or two on how to treat someone.” If there’s one thing Harry truly hates it’s men who don’t know how to treat their partners and this Johnny fellow doesn’t even know he just earned himself a spot on Harry’s shit list.

“So you’d handle it personally then?” Morgan asks with a quirked brow because she knows Harry almost never gets his hands dirty anymore unless he’s given no other choice.

“Yes I’d do it myself just like I did with your cousin.” Harry says as he glances at Morgan and gives her a look that tells her he’s not lying, he really is the one who broke her cousin’s nose.

“As long as you’re the one doing it I’m fine with it.” Sydney states nonchalantly as she leans over to grab a cracker off the snack tray.

“I do have one condition though.” He says with a smug like smile on his face as his attention shifts from Morgan over to you.

“A condition? You don’t get to negotiate something you offered to do in the first place Harry. How are you an actual mob boss? You really are the worst.” You argue as you glare at him making that annoying grin spread across his face, the one that makes his dimple appear and the butterflies to go off in your tummy.

“You have to agree to go to dinner with me next week.” You feel your eyes go wide as your mouth drops open while Morgan and Sydney stare at Harry with equally just as shocked expressions.

“Oh fuck off Harry I’ve already been held hostage by you in my own car and now you want to trap me into going to dinner with you just so you’ll beat up Johnny? You’ve lost your mind.”

“I haven’t lost anything. I’m just going off that old saying of if you’re good at something don’t do it for free.”

“We aren’t offering up our friend as payment for you to almost kill someone Harry. Don’t be fucking gross.” Morgan says in your defense but Harry doesn’t pay her any attention, his eyes still set on yours as he waits for your answer.

“Yeah Harry you’re acting like one of those poorly written romance novel mafia bosses who kidnap the girl they like and force them into a weird marriage and we are very much anti forced anything around here.” Sydney adds making both you and Morgan giggle as her worlds become a bit jumbled towards the end due to the fact she tries to take a sip of wine while still speaking.

“I’m not forcing her into anything she can say no and that would be fine.” You bite your bottom lip as Harry stares at you.

You let out a long sigh before you take a sip of wine to help calm your nerves as you contemplate your options, you know Harry is involved in a world you’ve only really read about or watched movies depicting the violence that takes place in it but you also know there’s a subtle softness to him. Because even now the man is at a book club drinking shitty wine and wearing slippers all so he could spend the rest of the evening with you. Once you’ve made your choice you lean over and place your glass on the table before crossing your arms over your chest as you stare back at him.

“I’m not going to dinner with you until after you do whatever it is you’re going to do to Johnny.” You counter his original offer making him narrow his eyes at you a bit clearly not expecting you to be try to negotiate with him.

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it? You’re not going to argue with me about it or anything?”

“Nope.” His answer makes you raise an eyebrow because it’s a bit unnerving how quickly he accepted your offer. “If you try to flake out on me I know where to find you.” He adds as a gentle reminder that he knows where you work and what kind of car you drive. While Harry is busy looking at you he doesn’t notice Sydney’s hand coming up to smack him upside the head causing his eyes to narrow as he turns and gives her a harsh glare but she doesn’t even seem the least bit bothered by it as she’s also glaring at him.

“You can’t threaten her while also asking her out on a date Harry god you are the fucking worst at this.” You have to bring a hand up to cover your mouth so your laughter doesn’t spread throughout the room as Sydney lets Harry have it. “Like seriously learn some manners.” She adds with a huff as she gets comfortable on her side of the couch.

“See what I mean? Worst mob boss ever.” You say with a laugh making Harry roll his eyes as he turns his attention back to you.

“Are we going to actually discuss the book or just sit here and give Harry a list of people we need him to hurt for us?” Morgan asks as she motions to the book in question that’s sitting next to the snack tray on the coffee table.

“For every name you add to the list it’s another dinner she has to go to with me.” He explains knowing it will make you all huffy and annoyed, something he’s coming to enjoy even though he knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help that he likes the way your eyes get this little glimmer in them when you look at him while frustrated with something he’s said or done.

“So the book it is then.” You answer for everyone making Harry chuckle as you reach for your copy that has your bookmark on the page you left off at, deciding for the rest of the girls that one dinner with Harry is all you’re willing to do at this point. So when they both just nod and grab their own books you let out a small sigh of relief because you know deep down that the more time you spend with Harry the more you’ll probably end up enjoying it and you can’t have that because who wants to enjoy the company of the worst mob boss ever? Certainly not you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In a Place Like This 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob! Frank Castle

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: your efforts to be left alone find you in bad company.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The chime of your cell phone wakes you. You reach over blindly, head under your pillow, neck twisted, body strewn over the mattress. You silence it and fold your arm over the pillow. Just a few more minutes. 

It starts again. You snarl and drag it off the chest beside your bed. You roll over and bring the phone to shine in your face. Two-fucking-AM. You’re not scheduled until seven. What’s this noise about? 

“What is it, Alfie?” You answer without courtesy. 

“Get down here, now.” 

“I’m not on schedule--” 

“I don’t give a shit,” he snips, a quake beneath his agitation. “I need you here, now.” 

Fuck. He hangs up before you can argue. This better not be him cowering behind the counter as a bunch of teenagers make a mess again. He sure talks a big game for a coward. Well, that’s what happens when you pay people to put up with you. 

You sit up and stretch. You are fucking wiped. Still, you’re no one to say no to money. You know if you don’t show up, Alfie will try to take your apron. 

You dress in the dark. You only flip on the bathroom light and put yourself together. When you leave, your eyelids are still drooping. You force them open as you head on onto the street. You have to be alert, especially this time of night. 

You have one hand around your brass knuckles as you stroll down to the station. You catch the line to the stop closest to the diner and climb up to ground level. You rub your forehead and yawn as you swing open the door. 

You enter to silence. Even at half-past two, that’s odd. You look around at the empty diner. There’s only one guest sat. He’s face is streaked red. His hands stained a similar shade. It’s that jackass. Castle. 

Alfie hisses at you through the kitchen window and beckons you back. Your eyes meet the sole patron’s gaze but he doesn’t move or speak. You scowl and head back to meet Alfie. The door flaps shut behind you. 

“He asked for you,” he wrings his hands like a greedy mouse. “I offered him coffee. He only said your name.” 

You smile wryly. What in the hell does he want? You look around the kitchen. Vinny does days and at night he has Paulie working the grill. The man can hardly light a burner with how fucking high he is. You tut and push your shoulders straight. 

“Right,” you march over to the sink and grab a cloth. You wet it as Alfie shuffles back to the window to peek out. “Stop gawking.” 

“Do you know who that is?” He asks. 

“Yep and he’s just like the rest of them,” you sneer and leave your purse on the counter. You march out to the table and hold out the cloth, “Clean yourself up before you stain my table.” 

Castle tweaks his head as his dark eyes meet yours. He gives a sort of sway as he accepts the cloth. You shake your head. 

“Get up,” you demand. 

He snorts. 

“I’m serious. You’re making mess.” You strut away back to the window and snap your fingers above the ledge, “Alf, a garbage bag.” 

You wait and take the black plastic, then turn and snatch a cloth from under the counter. You return to the table, wipe the seat, then cover it with the bag. He continues to wipe his face as he chuckles. 

“You sure don’t stop. Even at the crack of dawn, you’re fiery,” he shakes his head. 

“What do you want?” You ask tersely. 

“Ain’t got a menu yet?” 

You huff and stomp away. You come back and slap down a menu. He’s amused. 

“Coffee, tea, juice, to get you started?” 

He holds the cloth out to you. There’s still crimson in the creases of his hands and along his hairline. You take it with a dull glare. 

“Hope I didn’t interrupt your beauty sleep. If I did, gotta say, can’t tell,” he winks. 

You don’t flinch. His brows rise and he clucks. “I’ll take coffee. Black.” 

“Coming right up.” 

You twist on your heel and go behind the counter. You toss the cloth in the window. Alfie jumps back and hides. Goddamn, you’re really the one dealing with this bullshit. Right now?! 

You fill a mug from the machine. You don’t care if it’s stale. You return to Castle’s table and set it down. 

“You know, I’m feeling like a full stack. Been a while since I had pancakes. Oh, and with that apple syrup.” He taps the menu. You reach to fold it up and he catches the other end. You pause in a tug of war. “And I’d like to enjoy it with you sitting across from me. A sweet face to go with a sweet plate.” 

You scoff. Really? You blink and yank the menu free of his grasp. 

Not what you need. You go to the window and put in the order. Alfie yells at Paulie who only slurs in return. You’ll be lucky to get anything. 

You almost regret punching him in the face. Even if it was unintentional, it felt good. You tap your heel as you crane to see through the window. What the hell is Paulie doing? You didn’t ask for bacon. 

You storm through and across the kitchen. You snip at Alfie as he watches cluelessly. 

“Damnit it, Alf. You wanna hire someone who isn’t on crank?” You shove Paulie away from the grill. 

You pull out the pancake mix and take the scoop. You go to work making three large flapjacks. Alfie mutters by the window as Paulie pulls out a smoke. 

“Do that outside,” you warn. 

The pancakes bubble and you flip them. The perfect brown. Wonderful. You’re working as owner, waitress, and cook. You pile up the plate and grab a wrapped bunch of cutlery and the apple syrup on your way out.  

You bring it to the table and place it all in front of Castle. You gesture to the caddy on the other side of the table. “Powdered sugar and maple there.” 

He smirks at you, “you forgettin’ something, sugar?” 

You roll your eyes and sigh. You pull out the chair across from him and sit. “I know who you are, Castle. You don’t need to keep this up.” 

He guffaws as he drizzles the syrup, “oh, I know. But I wanna know who you are.” 

[isa-ghost]

I genuinely intend to remain reinforcing that Phil Does Not Want To Do Lore On The Realm because I don't want the community's pushing to send him to the point of never doing anything like it again (I've seen this lowkey happen before in other fandoms).

BUT...

I see such a clear pipeline from trPhil's "no fuck you go away I'm burying previous trauma and pain in logging obsessively" to some sort of "fine, I admit I'm miserable because I lost family and friends AGAIN, and I will begrudgingly try soothing it with letting people in my bubble again" type surrender moment brought on by trSneeg because he's so persuasive and makes excellent points with pure logic and reason and the idea makes me salivate.

Obviously it's all 100% ooc jokes and even if it WAS intentional rp, we have no guarantee that trPhil is "main" (specifically q) Phil, but technically trPhil HAS vaguely opened up to trSneeg about the grief and scars he has in the wake of losing his children. trSneeg knows trPhil is bitter and still grieving. He can see that logging, no matter what trPhil insists, is Not helping him actually heal. It's just barely letting him cope.

It's the same old tricks rpPhil has always turned to to deal with baggage, immersing himself as much as he can in physical labor of some kind. His projects back home in Hardcore, the "trains in his basement" in DSMP after he had to kill his own son, all the building and looting and protesting he did on QSMP any time the kids were taken away from him.

And I think we've seen more than enough evidence to show that trSneeg could 100% keep his cool through all the stubborn and heated refusal trPhil would meet with his attempts to convince him to just be willing to socialize and invest in people again. Not even to join Yellow, just let himself have meaningful connections again, rather than sticking to tolerating his and trFit's presences (most of the time). Even though trPhil's evasive behavior has been reinforced (probably tenfold) after The Keepers assaulted him and destroyed his wings AGAIN, I think with the tenacity and confidence trSneeg exudes, he could slowly eventually coax trPhil into opening up again. Even if just a tiny bit.

Especially because he sees why trPhil is so adamant on sticking to his guns rn, he knows it's not JUST the factions and snails. He'd see it even if trPhil hadn't straight up told him multiple times already. Right away, trSneeg would make it very clear that trPhil would have no obligations to anyone or anything, that socializing doesn't mean he HAS to save people from the peril they face or take a side in the interpersonal conflicts they have or help them all figure out what the deal is with the eyes or the Keepers or anything else.

He doesn't have to put up with a snail that reminds him of his lost kids, he doesn't have to choose a side like it's Purgatory again, he doesn't have to get involved with the horrors people are going through like he often did with the islanders, he doesn't have to help solve/understand whatever is going on in The Realm like he did with The Federation and The Codes and everything else fucked up and strange on Quesadilla Island. If having friends is all he wants, he can have that.

And even if trSneeg STILL couldn't sway trPhil with All That, that would mean we'd get a gut-wrenching storyline about how after so many years of loving and losing again and again throughout his immortal life, rpPhil knows that pain is a part of love whether you want it to be or not, you can't have one without the other. He can't make connections here without signing up for the stress and pain that comes with it because that's what it means to care about people.

It's not just the most recent time putting him off from it all, it's an entire cycle he's been forced to suffer in for as long as he can remember, because that's what being immortal entails. He wants the cycle to end already. He can't stand being fully alone right now whether he admits it or not thanks to QI. His determination to isolate himself as much as he can while he's in The Realm is to slowly reacclimate himself to being alone so he can tolerate it in his home world again. When the loneliness gets unbearable, that's when he has no qualms with being pestered by people or goes to see what everyone else is up to. As that happens less over time, he'll go home again now that complete isolation doesn't hurt anymore (or more accurately: now that he's reconvinced himself it doesn't).

All of this is to say, trSneeg is 100% the guy that would break the ice under trPhil and get his story rolling, whether that means he embraces the pain of loving and caring again, or reinforces how hellbent he is on trying to escape it.

[i-merely-jest]

Welcome to the show, folks!

This site is really fun from what I've seen so far... although I do have to comment on the lack of other Cookies on it!

What a shame, truly... that means less people to talk to, y'know.

Oh, and it sure is boring just sitting around and waiting for something to happen. Alas, I am trapped inside some sort of labyrinth, and my options are limited.

But hey! There's always something new on the internet, amirite? Boy, are a lot of you dirty little liars... Hehehe...

//mod will remain anonymous and goes by he/they pronouns

the plotline for shadow milk cookie himself is after being freed from the silver tree, but then being put into a different form of containment afterwards. for some reason i wanted him to be in an ikea, so this different containment just so happens to be a fucked up version of ikea. shadow milk cookie is essentially stuck in the infinite ikea, but not exactly, since it's not an scp and it's my own take on the matter. basically, it's like the cookie run equivalent of ikea since it's made with materials seen in the cookie run universe, and he can't physically leave it usually.

it is unknown to others what entity sealed him away here, and even shadow milk cookie himself claims to not know what it is. given how he's unwilling to talk about it most of the time, he is either lying completely or only telling a half truth. furthermore, he's not willing to divulge much information about the place he's stuck in aside from ominous answers that leave people with more questions. if he ever has visitors, he's more than eager to toy with them a bit, especially since they're exceedingly rare. good luck getting out though...

when he does appear to others in the real cookie world, it's typically as an illusion or ghost-like figure from him using his powers to project himself back into reality, so he's translucent. furthermore, he can still do voice impressions, so sometimes he will only be a disembodied voice, as this is easier and more entertaining to him. it is also more common than an actual appearance of him.

he can still have some effect on the real cookie world and can choose to be tangible or not, but is usually the latter. it's incredibly taxing for him to use his abilities nowadays, so he has to remain in his alternate reality, constantly trying to find a way out. it's been so long that he can somewhat control the environment with his powers, but for the most part it seems like something else is in control of the space. sometimes he can forcibly open up a gateway out, but will always have to return since there's always this unknown force dragging him back...

general dni, but if i find you annoying i might block you too

no nsfw, but some flirting is okay (don't expect shadow milk cookie to reciprocate in a genuine way though; he'd likely just see it as a joke) shipping generally depends because i honestly have NO idea who's he's even shipped with but. yeah. feel free to ask or try to plan something with me in advance

i'm generally okay with either silly or serious roleplays, so have fun! i won't bite, i promise. (unless, of course... i'm lying? who knows...)

i encourage oc interactions, as well as canon character interactions! i'm also fairly open to cross-fandom roleplays if it really comes to it

fun fact: this is THE most effort i have put into an intro post. credit for the eye dividers goes to sisterlucifergraphics, and credit for the other shadow milk cookie assets goes to phantasyze. is this blog kind of self indulgent? yes, and i freely admit this. i think he deserves to be in a hellish solitary confinement dimension though.

[skimmingmilk]

ooo now i'm curious, tell us more about drift! 👀

i'm assuming, like his name implies, he "drifts" around and just does whatever he wants?

You got it! Drift's name came from a couple of things. First, it's the game mechanic when you take tight corners while boosting as Sonic xD But also, it can mean being carried along by the wind or water, so fitting for a pirate world and also compatible with Sails's name :) And then the big thing is that he's so adrift in his own life. Just completely and utterly directionless.

Drift lives alone on an island in the middle of No Place. He can't swim, so he's not about to go live a life on the open seas. Most of the planet is under water, with scattered islands spread out across the ocean.

Now, he doesn't let it bother him! He doesn't need much, his island is lush and peaceful. It's okay that he can't really run anywhere, the island's not that big, he can cross it in less than fifteen minutes just walking. He likes living life worry-free, without a care in the world. He naps in hammocks all day long, plays his guitar, and eats seaweed salads and drinks out of coconuts xD He has absolutely no drive to do anything. No purpose. No point. And he's happy. He doesn't care that he's stuck in one place because his island is beautiful and he's alone! No one telling him what to do, no one expecting anything of him. It's just him, nature, and peace.

This probably doesn't sound too bad, right? Except, it's Sonic. An aimless Sonic who sees absolutely nothing wrong with lying on a beach all day, every day, alone, forever. He's Sonic's carefree nature dialed up to the point where he couldn't care less. Without anything to run towards, he doesn't run at all. Without anything to live for, he's not even really living.

He's also very talkative despite being alone. Drift got the whole slice of the talking pie xD Sharp might have a sharp tongue, but he also isn't compelled to say everything that's on his mind and Bur (originally Snare, but I think Bur works better for his character, like the little spiky seed balls that get stuck on clothes or in animal fur) is non-verbal. So it's safe to say, Sonic's most annoying qualities went to Drift, lol.

When Drift finally has some company - in the form of Rouge and Knuckles landing on his island for a change - all he's got to offer them are carefree conversations and coconuts, no way home in sight. Just miles of ocean.

"Haven't you ever wanted to at least see what else is out there?" Knuckles demanded. Eyes still closed, Drift lazily waved his hand towards the endless blue expanse beyond the edge of his beach. "Take a long look, pal. That's all there is." "You can't know that!" Knuckles smacked the palm tree with the side of his fist, the whole thing swaying along with the hammock and finally coaxed the hedgehog to crack one eye open and peer up at him. "If you've never left this island, how could you know that there isn't something more for you?" Drift clicked his tongue, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he folded his arms behind his quills. "You tell me, big guy. What could be better than this? Now d'ya mind? You're kinda blocking my sun."

Knuckles can't stand him xD Rouge is just annoyed and wants to find a way back as soon as possible. But the two of them give him a little more perspective, even if he doesn't outwardly show it - because it is pretty fun to annoy them, he's never had real people to mess with - and when Tails shows up, it becomes clear that Drift is fully aware of how he's not actually free. Not caring is his way of coping, convincing himself that he couldn't possibly want more because he can't have it when the world has nearly drowned. But after connecting with both Tails and Knuckles, Drift decides life's no fun without taking a chance or two, so he decides to go with them when they finally leave the island.

Then they'll run across a familiar pirate ship we all know and love, and Drift will find both a purpose and adventure waiting for him aboard <3 He and Sails hit it off almost instantly, to the surprise of absolutely no one, lol. They bond the quickest out of all the variants.

Drift likes to hang out in the crow's nest because "it's the farthest from the water that I can get" and that's where Sails likes to hang out, too, when he doesn't feel like partying and wants somewhere to tinker on his contraptions. Sails thinks he's funny and Drift thinks he's clever. They understand each other's longing for freedom and purpose, but they worry about the price. Drift doesn't want to be anchored to anything and Sails worries he's only valuable as a member of a crew, that on his own, he's nothing. They both fill a need they didn't know they had, and they recognize it straightaway.

"Well... if ye every feel like yer being dragged down here," Sails hummed as he looked out at the edge of the horizon, "I'll fly ye up and out." "Oh yeah?" Drift snorted, but his muzzle quirked in genuine amusement. "Wouldn't that be considered mutiny?" "Can ye really mutiny if ye don't even have a proper captain?" Sails sighed dramatically, coaxing a chuckle out of his companion. "It keeps changin' every day! They keep... they keep abandonin' us," he said, his voice soft, but there was a frustrated edge to it lying just beneath the surface. "Why shouldn't any of us leave?" "Then why don't ya?" Sails pursed his mouth thoughtfully. "I've only ever been any good as a part of a crew. Even if all I ever do is help throw parties and act as lookout. At least I'm doin' something for someone." "A fair point," Drift agreed idly. "Well, guess it'll just depend then. How far can those tails of yours carry ya?" Sails looked over at him and shrugged. "Don't know," he answered honestly. "But so far, they've gotten me where I've needed to go. Can't promise they'll do the same for ye, but... I can promise I'll try." Drift glanced at him, and the sea breeze suddenly wasn't all that cold as a warm smile spread across his face. "I'll hold ya to it," he chuckled.

I haven't written much for them, I still need to figure out exactly when in the show they meet (right now I have it outlined for right after the episode "No Way Out" but I haven't fully pieced together each sequence of events), but I know I love them and they're wonderful~

Thanks for asking about my other problem child Drift! <3

[sickskz]

One step too far

Synopsis/intro: After over a week of bedrest due to having the flu, Hyunjin is beyond ready to get back on stage. Desperate to make up for his lost time, he pushes his body beyond its limits on his first performance back. What starts off as exhaustion and sore muscles the next day quickly spirals into something far more dangerous. Luckily, his members are looking out for him.

A.k.a the fic where Hyunjin gets rhabdo

Sickie: Hyunjin

Caretaker/s: mainly a mix of Changbin, Felix, Han and Chris

____________________________________________

Hyunjin had always been one for theatrics, there was no denying that. Call him a drama queen, he holds the title with pride. However, saying that when he woke up this morning, his body felt like someone had tried to repurpose it by throwing him in a volcano and have him spat back out… That honestly wasn’t even an exaggeration. 

Every single cell in his body felt like it was screaming at him, set aflame and burning up from within. Opening his eyes was like peeling open an old, rusty lock. He didn’t know how he could possibly be able to move at all.

Yesterday was the first concert Hyunjin had been able to perform in a couple of weeks. He’d been put on a small leave due to having the flu, but yesterday he had finally been declared as ‘healthy’ and fit to perform again.

As one then does, he gave a little extra for the stays, jacking up his energy to 110% for each and every song.

Being back on the stage had been so incredibly liberating, it really had him wondering how he could ever survive without it. 

He had been sore before, of course, all the time, but nothing like this. Ever. Not even the flu had his body aching as much it did right now. 

Hyunjin almost felt like crying. In fact, judging by the dampness on his face, he might have cried already in his sleep. Or maybe it was just sweat. Either way, they both told the same story. He was in pain. 

He inhaled a shuddering breath, wincing when his chest expanded and stretched his tender muscles. He peeked over to the bed at the other side of the room. Empty. Changbin was up. The clock was in his peripheral, so a small shift told him all he needed to know. It was 10am… and no one had woken him up yet? Strange. 

Hyunjin struggled to roll on his side so he could prop himself up to sit, body protesting his every move and his stomach churning from the strain. He gulped. 

The change in posture caused the room before him to tilt violently, nausea crashing over him as his vision dimmed at the edges. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would help, but it only made him feel like he was spinning even more. He tried to hold on to his mattress to steady himself, but pain lanced through his body sharply, stealing the air from his lungs. 

“Shi..” he lurched forward just in time as a mouthful of bile shot up his throat, splashing on the floor and only partially into the trash can in between the two beds. He desperately grabbed hold of it as a second wave came over him, retching loudly as vomit scratched up his throat. He could still not see straight, so dizzy that for a moment, he was worried he was going to faint. 

How the hell had he gotten sick again? He had just recovered.. he thought immunity was a thing. Maybe he hadn’t actually been all clear before performing again? Maybe this was the punishment his body gave him for not waiting long enough.. 

He couldn’t make sense of it…

He had felt pretty good yesterday, great even, and he hadn’t had a fever in days. 

Now, Hyunjin had never mastered being quiet when throwing up, even with his stomach as empty as it was now. He was loud, and as he heaved and retched unproductively, footsteps could be heard thundering down the hall.

The door slammed open, showing Changbin in the doorway with a wide-eyed expression that quickly morphed into one of concern. 

“Hyun—… aish” the rapper scurried over, briefly looking over the small mess before sitting down beside his dongsaeng on the bed. 

He put a hand on his back to comfort him, but Hyunjin cried out in pain at the touch, a mix between a gag and a sob leaving his mouth. Changbin freezed, pulling his hand back and letting it hover uncertainly over Hyunjins sweat drenched t-shirt. He didn’t feel particularly hot, like he had a fever, but every other symptom seemed quite clear.

“I’m-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, hey..” Changbin tried to keep his composure, immediately losing track of what to do if he couldn’t provide any physical comfort. He was usually good at that when it came to Hyunjin. “It’s okay, hey, it’s okay, try to breathe” he settled for that, moving his hands to hold onto his own thighs. Resisting the urge to reach out, hug him, anything to console him. 

Hyunjin gasped for air, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to will his body to listen. Changbins hand felt like it was made of prickly needles when it landed against his back, digging into his skin and causing electric shocks of pain all through him. 

However, his presence did help, and Hyunjin could feel himself start to calm down and follow his hyungs guidance.

He wasn’t sure how long it took, but after a while he finally managed to breathe a little easier.

“Are you done?”

Hyunjin nodded reluctantly, letting Changbin pry the trash can from his hands and setting it aside to deal with later. 

“You poor thing” Changbin cooed in sympathy. “have you gotten yourself sick again? I.. I’m sorry I touched your back, does it hurt?” The rappers eyes glistened with guilt and Hyunjin wanted to punch him for being so annoyingly sweet and kind. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know touching his back would make it feel like he was ripping a knife through his muscle fibers. Hell, that even caught Hyunjin himself by surprise. He had never felt anything like that before. 

“I..” Hyunjin swallowed thickly, then exhaled shakily “I don’t know. I just woke up feeling like… like I’ve been run over by a truck a couple times” as if on cue, his right calf suddenly cramped up, making him double over himself with a hiss. 

Changbin frowned, stopping himself before he instinctively went to hold on to the other to support him. “Did you go too hard last night? I mean, you certainly made an awesome show, but..” he trailed off, as if a thought just crossed his mind. “Do you want me to bring some ice packs? Maybe it can help ease the soreness a little.” 

Hyunjin didn’t want to be alone, not now. He was still too dizzy. “No, please don’t leave” he answered quickly, tears brimming in his eyes and lips wobbly. Changbins expression softened, and he smiled gently. 

“Okay..” Changbin sighed and Hyunjin sniffled helplessly. “Can I touch you? I just want to feel if you have a fever.” the rapper said earnestly, earning a small nod from the younger. 

Changbin’s hand didn’t feel like needles this time. In fact, it was a gentle warmth that ever so lightly caressed his forehead. Hyunjin let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Hm, you don’t feel warm.. I think you may just have really overworked your body, Hyunjinnie” Changbin commented, fully immersed in his nurse role. “I can ask if one of the others can come by with some ice packs then, is that okay?” 

“Yes-” Hyunjin didn’t even hesitate. “Please.”

He didnt feel warm, according to Changbin, but he wholeheartedly disagreed. He felt like he was burning, pain searing through his bones relentlessly. Icing himself down seemed like the only possible way to relief. 

“Alright-” Changbin finally glanced at the bedsheets Hyunjin had been sleeping on. A dark patch in the shape of a human was visible in the center of his bed. “I.. I think we better get your sheets changed.. and get you into some fresh clothes too, don’t you think?” The rapper swiped a drop of sweat off Hyunjins forehead. “Do you think you can stand?”

Hyunjin thought for a moment, eyes squinting, then shrugged halfway- not really able to bring his shoulders into it. “Dunno.”

Changbin seemed conflicted, brows drawn together in deep consideration and his lips pursed. “Okay.. uh, how about you support yourself on me, I don’t have to touch you if it hurts.. or.. what do you think?” He pushed himself to stand up from the bed, holding out a muscular arm so Hyunjin could cling onto his bicep.

Hyunjin had a countdown in his head before standing up with all the might he could muster. His legs were like jello beneath him, but he managed to stand wobbly, latching himself onto Changbins arm. The pain was worst in his back and legs, as well as deep in his abdomen and torso. His arms were tolerable in comparison, though they too felt unusually heavy. 

He took one small shuffle of a step, and though his knees buckled slightly, he was able to stay up by holding onto Changbins steady form. “Okay, let’s go” 

They must’ve looked like a nurse walking his 97 year old patient through the corridors of the nursing home, the way Changbin patiently supported a frail, hunched over Hyunjin- who walked about as fast as a snail. 

Every step burned, he struggled to lift his feet off the ground, but when he finally was able to settle on the couch, it was all worth it. 

Changbin had grabbed a clean T-shirt, pyjama pants and a pair of socks for him when they were on their way out of the bedroom, and still managed to send a text regarding ice packs.

Hyunjin hadn’t really realised he was squeezing his eyes shut again when he was sat down on the couch, until he opened them to see Jeongin staring at him from the couch opposite of him. His expression was sceptical, his eyes scanning Hyunjin like he was some sort of chemical weapon. Did he look that bad? 

“You good?” Was all their maknae had to offer. 

You good? Hyunjin clicked his tongue quietly. No, he was not fucking GOOD. He was awful, actually.

In fact, he wondered if the youngest would comply if he asked him to strangle him with a couch cushion to put him out of his misery. Right then and there.

“Yeah..” Hyunjin managed, forcing a small smile as Changbin put out the fresh clothes for him. “‘Just… must’ve overdid it last night, I guess” he chuckled weakly, wincing at the pain it caused around his rib cage. 

“Ah.” Jeongin nodded, shrugging his shoulders and returning to whatever it was he was watching on his phone. Hyunjin probably would have been offended by his disinterest if it wasn’t for the fact that he still was in agony. 

“Lift your arms up.” Changbin ordered softly, and Hyunjin obliged to the best of his ability. He got them a little over halfway up before reaching a dead end in his shoulder joints, and his arms quivered so much it almost looked like he was shaking them purposefully. A strange, new choreography, perhaps. 

Luckily, Changbin was swift and managed to both strip him of his sweaty shirt and replace it with a clean one before his arms collapsed back down against his sides. He went to try and help him with his pyjama pants, but that took an awful lot of effort. For them both. 

Hyunjin, as if he was a severely injured patient, clung onto Changbin over his shoulder as the older managed to undress and dress him without bending or hurting his legs too much. There was no way he hadn’t done that before. Changbin moved like a professional. 

Once fully clothed in dry clothes, Hyunjin carefully slid down to lay on his side. Changbin lifted his throbbing legs onto the couch for him, then helped him get a pillow under his neck for support. “Better?” The rapper asked, crouching down and looking at him with a kind smile. 

Hyunjin managed a small smile of his own, despite the tears still stinging at the corner of his eyes. He watched on as Changbin lifted his strong hand and ever so gently wiped a droplet from the edge of his eyelashes. His heart ached with emotion, making his breath hitch. “Thank you, binnie..”

__________________________________

Lee know arrived in the common room shortly after with three ice packs wrapped neatly in towels. An art he had performed many times. 

“Injured? Sick?” He asked shortly, handing the packs to Changbin, who was now sitting carefully next to where Hyunjin had his head propped up and supported by pillows. He had also gotten a pillow to support between his legs, one behind his back, and one that he was hugging to his chest. 

Even with his eyes closed, Hyunjin could feel the unsure shrug Changbin responded with. “Don’t really know. He doesn’t feel feverish, but his body aches like crazy..” 

Hyunjin let out a small, appreciative hum when he felt the first chilled bundle carefully press to the back of his neck. Another one was soon placed gingerly against his back, held in place thanks to the pillow. 

“Lee Know, can you place the last one of his legs? Seemed like they hurt a lot.” Changbin spoke rather quietly, probably assuming Hyunjin was asleep. It wasn’t far from the truth. Despite having slept in, Hyunjin felt exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Can’t he do it himself? He’s not asleep.” Lee Know said in a teasing voice, and Hyunjin squinted his eyes open to glare at him.

As he stubbornly went to reach his arm out for the last ice pack, Hyunjin froze with a wince as the burning slashed across his back and down his legs. 

“Agh-!” His hand fell back to dig into the pillow he’d been cradling to his chest, and the younger curled in on himself as he tried to breathe through the cramps. Short, sharp breaths. 

“Woah, hey, don’t…. Jesus..” Lee know seemed unsure of what to say, unsure of what to make of the situation. Hyunjin wasn’t too sure himself. “Uh, I was just poking some fun, sorry...” he sounded genuine enough. 

Hyunjin could feel the cooling of the pack against his calf, and inhaled shakily before opening his eyes again. “It’s fine.” he spoke through gritted teeth, his eyebrows pinched. It wasn’t fine, and he could sense Changbin and Lee Know having a silent conversation between the two of them. Hyunjin was too tired to be bothered with what it was about. 

Changbin carefully swiped some sweaty strands of hair from Hyunjin’s face. “Actually.” he cleared his throat, as if the mouthing silent words to Lee Know a second ago somehow had messed with his vocal cords. “Lee Know, could you grab a thermometer as well? I just wanna make sure..” 

“Sure.” Lee know nodded, awkwardly turning on his feet and heading towards the nearest bathroom. 

He returned a moment later with a thermometer in hand, and Changbin thanked him before preparing it for use. 

“Alright, can you open your mouth for me?” Changbin said gently, and Hyunjin couldn’t help but furrow his brows as he was spoken to like a child. He wanted to retort with something along the lines of ‘I don’t know, can I?’ Or ‘why don’t you make me?’, but he resorted to simply complying in silence. 

The cool metal tip from the thermometer nested safely under his tongue, and after a few seconds, it beeped. Changbin pulled it back to read off the tiny screen, face contorted in concentration. 

“Hm.”

“Hm?” Hyunjin urged, struggling to keep himself awake for any longer than he needed. 

“36.8°C (98.2°F), no fever..” Changbin said with a hum, placing the thermometer on the table. That’s good, Hyunjin guessed. Didn’t explain anything though. Maybe it really was just overexertion..

“Hyunjinnie, should I ask if Felix to come by with some pain relief patches?” Changbin asked softly, eyes darting between his phone screen and Hyunjins pitiful form. 

Hyunjin thought about it briefly. While he didn’t want to cause Felix any trouble, he was in such desperate need of relief that there was no way he could turn it down.  

“Yes, please.”

_______________________________

12pm

Hyunjin had fallen asleep again. 

When he woke up, it was thanks to the sound of Changbin and Han laughing in unison. They could very well be at the very other end of the house, as far as he knew, considering how loud they could be. He heard them either way. 

Hyunjin groaned, the pain welcoming him back to consciousness. First then was he alerted to the fact that, although it was quite obviously not Changbin anymore, someone was sitting beside him.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Felix’s voice was soft, and he leaned forward to peer down at Hyunjins face with a toothy smile. “Heard you weren’t feeling the best.”

Hyunjin tried to return the smile, genuinely happy that out of everyone else, Felix was the one sitting by him. “Feeeeelix~” Hyunjin drawled, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. It wasn’t very effective.

“How are you feeling?” Felix mused softly. The sunlight behind him almost gave him the illusion of a halo, like he was truly something otherworldly. An angel sent to Hyunjin in his moment of suffering.

Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh, his lips forming a small pout. “Exhausted.” he muttered, his voice tinged with defeat. “I don’t get it.. I was finally feeling okay yesterday, but now… I think my body hates me. I don’t think I’ve ever been this sore.” His tone was petulant, almost childlike, but Felix understood. Hyunjin was upset, and rightfully so.

Felix ran his fingers through his hair, carefully untangling the salty strands that had clumped together earlier. “Yeah?” Hyunjin watched as the other’s eyebrows knit together in thought, though his lips still held a small smile. “Do you think you could describe it a little more ? I just want to understand what you’re feeling. Maybe I can help.”

Hyunjin blinked groggily, trying to piece together the words that could best describe what he was feeling. “It’s… hard to explain.” he admitted, his voice small. “It feels like my muscles are… burning. When I-I move, it feels like they’re tearing-“ he took a break to allow himself some less strained breaths, before continuing. “Even breathing, it feels like someone’s pulling at my ribs.. and my legs… gah, they just keep cramping up all the time, so so bad...” he couldn’t help the small, petulant half-sob that slipped past his lips, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I-I just don’t understand why everything hurts so much..”

Felix nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed as he listened. His heart ached at the sight of Hyunjin being so miserable and unlike his usual self. “Okay, it’s okay~” he soothed, soft fingers ever so tenderly brushing across Hyunjins cheek. 

“That sounds awful, Hyunjin-ah… I’m sorry.” Felix murmured, voice heavy with care. “You really pushed yourself way too hard, didn’t you?” He paused, his expression softening. 

“I… I really do think the best thing right now is for you to rest. Let your body recover, okay? And I’ll see if I can find something to help with the cramps..”

Hyunjin nodded weakly, his eyelids already slipping. The effort of talking had drained him again. “Okay.” he whispered, curling a little tighter around the pillow pressed to his chest. “Thank you, ‘Lix.”

Felix leaned down to tuck the blanket more securely around him, his hands ever so agile and light. “Of course. Just try to sleep, Hyunjin. You’re going to be okay.” His voice was soft, comforting enough that Hyunjin’s breathing soon evened out and he drifted off yet again. 

Once Felix was sure Hyunjin was asleep, he stood up quietly, trying not to disturb him. He made his way to the kitchen, hoping that a warm meal might help his friend recover faster.

When he entered the room, he found that Chan already there, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in hand. The leader was scrolling through something on his phone, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. At the sound of Felix’s footsteps, he looked up and offered a small smile.

“Hey, Lix. You alright?” Chan asked, setting his phone down. His sharp eyes immediately picked up on Felix’s slightly frazzled state. 

Felix hesitated for a moment before nodding half-heartedly. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s Hyunjin I’m worried about.” He moved to the stove, pulling out a pot and setting it on the burner. 

Chan’s expression darkened at the mention of Hyunjin’s name. “What’s going on?” he asked, pushing away from the counter and setting his mug down. 

As Felix began chopping some vegetables with methodical precision, he relayed everything Hyunjin had told him to Chan. His voice was steady, but the worry in his eyes was unmistakable.

Chan listened without interruption.

“-I don’t know, Chris, he really doesn’t look too good.” Felix insisted with a sigh, stretching his arms up above his head to try and ease the tension in his shoulders. “The way he described his pain, I…. I can tell something is wrong, I just can´t figure out what.. If he’s not better in a few hours, we have to contact someone. A doctor, a nurse, just someone who knows what they’re doing.”

It was more a conclusion than a suggestion, but Chan couldn’t say that he would’ve disagreed either way. He had listened intently as Felix summed up Hyunjins state, pale, sweaty, and face scrunched in pain even in his sleep. Like Felix, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this than the dancer just having overworked himself.

“I agree.“ Chan said softly, a sigh escaping his lips as he mindlessly peered out the window. “We’ll just have to keep a close eye on him, yeah? If anything changes for the worse, we know what we need to do.” The oldest watched Felix stir around in the pot, noticing that he had grown quiet, lost in thought. 

“Speaking of, is he alone right now?“ Chan asked, breaking Felix out of his spiralling mind. 

Felix shook his head, his voice low. “He was still fast asleep when I left about 15 minutes ago. Han and Changbin are hanging out in the next room, keeping an ear out in case they hear anything.”

________________________________________

2pm

Roughly one and a half hour had passed, and while Hyunjin had hoped and prayed he would be getting better with time and rest, things were only taking a turn for the worse. 

When he woke up from his nap, his body was covered in a new layer of cold sweat, relentless shivers running through his body. He didn’t feel the same, sharp pain he’d felt earlier, but the dull ache in his body lingered, only faded because he felt too dazed to fully grasp it.

“Felix…?” Hyunjin called out, his voice barely carrying into the room and filled with an aching need for reassurance. He felt awfully strange, like he was no longer in his own body, his own voice sounded like an echo. 

His chest felt jittery, his heart drumming erratically against his ribs. It wasn’t painful, just uncomfortable, and it made it a little harder to catch his breath.

A head popped around the corner just a moment later, but it wasn’t Felix. 

“Hey, pretty boy~” Han said with a soft smile, his eyebrows furrowing as he took in the sight of Hyunjin’s trembling form. A particularly harsh shiver ran through him, covering his skin in goosebumps from head to toe.

“You need anything? Felix just went to make some food for you guys.” Jisungs voice was gentle, though the uncertainty in his tone was clear as he stepped closer, his eyes scanning Hyunjin’s pale face, taking in the cold sweat and unsteady shivers. His expression softened further, worry fully replacing any teasing edge.

Hyunjin couldn’t hold himself together anymore. The tears that had been welling in his eyes finally spilled over, streaking down his pale skin as his body shuddered beneath the blankets.

“I-I really don’t feel good…” Hyunjin’s voice was barely above a whisper, his words trembling just as much as his body.

Han’s heart ached at the sight. He gently placed a hand on Hyunjin’s forehead, his eyes widening as he felt the heat radiating from his skin. “Sh-..You’re burning up.” he murmured, his voice laced with worry. “I thought Changbin-hyung said you didn’t have a fever…“

Hyunjin’s sobs came out in small, pitiful gasps, the salty tears soaking into the pillow below him. The fever had drained him, leaving him a shell of his usual self. Weak, feverish, and utterly vulnerable. He gripped onto the others boys hand desperately, like it was some sort of lifeline.

“Awh, Hyunjin-ah, It’s okay, it’s okay.“ With his free hand, Han attempted to wipe away the tears, his fingers tenderly brushing the damp strands of hair from Hyunjin’s pallid face. Every touch was an attempt to soothe, to comfort him in any way possible. 

Then, the rapper fumbled for his phone, dialing Felix’s number in a hurry, his heart clenching uncomfortably in his chest.

Thankfully, Felix answered on the second ring. “Lix, it’s Hyunjin. Something’s wrong.” Jisung’s voice was strained with worry, but he didn’t need to say more.

Felix didn’t respond; he simply ended the call. But the sudden sound of hurried footsteps, echoing from the kitchen, was all the reassurance Jisung needed. 

“It huuuurts..” Hyunjin wailed miserably, voice cracking with the strain of the sobs wracking his body. 

Felix and Chan both came jogging into the living room, quickly assessing the situation and stepping up behind Jisung with big eyes. 

“Shhh, what hurts, baby? What hurts?” Jisung eased himself off the couch to sit on the ground beside him, never once letting go on Hyunjins clammy hand. He didn’t know what else to do, looking at Felix and Chan with a desperate look in his eyes. 

“M-my legs, my-my l-legs…" Hyunjin chanted in gasps, writhing with pain as Felix carefully stepped forward and started pulling the blanket off him. His legs felt like they’d been wrapped up far too tight, feeling both numb and excruciatingly painful at the same time. 

“Can I take a look, Hyunjin-ah? Please?” Felix voice was soft and gentle, and Hyunjin barely managed to nod. Chan handed the thermometer to Han, who quickly added two and two together.

With the thermometer back in between Hyunjins chapped lips, Felix pulled back the blankets fully. He carefully lifted the cuffs of Hyunjins loose pyjama pants, freezing in action.

“Chris-" Felix’s voice caught in his throat and the silence that followed was fiercely broken by the urgent beeping of the thermometer. 

“Yeah, I’m already calling for an ambulance. Felix, take off his socks, they may be cutting off circulation.” Their leader immediately responded, lifting his phone to his ear and holding a hand to the back of his own neck. 

“39.5°C(103.1°F)” Han read aloud, looking back to Chan with panic swirling around his eyes. How had it changed so quickly? 

Hyunjin laid there, sobs dying down into quick, shallow breaths as he tried to understand what was going on around him. He could only capture a few things here and there, completely overwhelmed by the tightening pain that held his body in a lock.

When Felix removed his socks, there was an immediate relief, but it washed over him fleetingly, quickly replaced by the same sharp, stabbing pain.

Hyunjin cried out in agony, gripping onto Hans shoulder in desperation, body tense and erratic. Felix swallowed back his own tears as he assessed Hyunjins legs, all while not touching them. 

His feet looked.. weird, for the lack of a better word. Hyunjin was lean, with a naturally slender build that was only accentuated by the muscle tone he had earned as a hardworking dancer. 

His ankles in particular, were and had always been slim, a delicate shape that stood as a sharp contrast to the strength they had.

Now, Hyunjins feet didn’t even look like they belonged to him. They were puffed up unnaturally, skin stretched and flushed. The swelling was so distinct that indentations from his socks remained imprinted in his shins.

Felix frowned deeply, eyes darting from the swollen limbs to Hyunjins face, contorted in pain. His hands hovered, unsure if any touching would cause more harm than good. 

Chan paced around with the phone to his ear, rattling off information to the dispatcher with a calmness in his voice that just barely masked his own rising panic.

‘They’re on the way’ Chan mouthed to Felix when he caught his panicked eyes, who only nodded helplessly in return. 

“It’s going to be okay, help will be here soon.” Jisung murmured softly, his trembling fingers carefully carding through Hyunjins damp hair.

In the span of a few minutes, Hyunjin slipped further into a haze of delirium, the world around him breaking under the weight of pain. His eyes fluttered open and shut, unfocused and glassy. Garbled cries broke from his lip, tearless sobs that made his chest heave in uneven gasps. Feverish words tumbled out of him, disjointed and meaningless, and his grip on Jisungs hand was getting weaker. 

Hyunjin hazily caught the fleeting images of his friends moving around him, seeming to multiply. Suddenly, they morphed, first to blurry paramedics, then to nurses. 

Snippets of words floated past him in a faint echo, eerie and unfamiliar: Hypotensive, edema, AKI, crisis. He heard the faint blare of sirens and a distant mutter of ‘I’m here’ through the relentless pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

Then, all at once, everything disappeared.

____________________________________

It all felt like a few seconds, like an abnormally long blink. 

When he opened his eyes again, the room around him was new. White and sterile. 

A clean, clinical smell clung to the air, and the steady buzzing from the fluorescent lights made Hyunjin hum in response. 

His gaze drifted briefly over the machines around him, taking in the thin IV lines in his arms and the monitors beating steadily at his bedside. 

Hyunjin tried to move but failed to do so, his body pinned down with exhaustion. He managed to sluggishly tilt his head to the side instead, catching sight of two familiar figures hunched over in a couple of chairs in the corner. 

Chan sat with his head in his hands, while Felix sat leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his face pale and drawn.

They were speaking in hushed tones, but then Felix's gaze suddenly moved up from the floor to meet Hyunjins. His eyes widened, making Hyunjin realise how red and teary they were. 

“Lix..” Hyunjin breathed out, just above a whisper, his throat feeling dry and scratchy.

“Hyunjin-ah.” Felix was by his side in an instant, his hand fumbling to hold onto one of Hyunjins. “You’re awake..” his voice trembled, but relief flooded his face.

Chan stood from his chair as well, shuffling over and offering up a weary smile. “I’m so glad to see you.” he said, his voice strained with emotion. Chan gently leaned in and pulled at a string that was hanging by the bed.  Hyunjin looked at him in question, and Chan chuckled weakly.

“Just letting the staff know you’re awake.. So we can get some more information, okay?” Chan gave him a sympathetic smile, but it faltered once he saw the heart rate monitor climbing unexpectedly. From 70, to 80, to 90, 95..

“Hey..” Felix said, tapping his finger lightly against the top of Hyunjins hand in an attempt to ground him. “Hyunjin-ah, it’s okay, baby, just breathe.” Felix voice was comforting and steady, anchoring him from the storm that started brewing inside his hazy mind. 

Hyunjin blinked away the tears that stung in his eyes, sucking in a hitched breath as he tried to follow his instructions. “W-what happened..?” He strained, his eyes swirling with confusion.

Chan sighed softly, again flashing a small smile in an attempt to comfort him. “You got really sick, Hyun-ah.. your muscles were-“ 

As if on cue, the door swung open. The doctor, a middle aged woman with sharp eyes and a bright coat, walked inside with a nurse trailing behind her. 

Chan stepped back to allow her to stand by the bed, but Felix stayed put by his Hyunjins side, holding his pale hand steadily in his own.

“Mr. Hwang, we are glad to see you’re awake. I’m Dr. Davis, I’ve been one of the doctors attending to your case since you arrived” the doctor said. Her voice was calm and professional, but there was a trace of sympathy in her eyes as she glanced at the two members by the bed.

Hyunjins boggled mind found it hard to understand what she was saying. It was like most of his English knowledge was thrown out the door in an instant, only allowing him to understand a few words here and there. 

The others would translate for him afterwards, he was sure, so he nodded along the best he could. 

“You’ve developed something called rhabdomyolysis.” Dr. Davis explained, immediately capturing Felix’s and Chan’s full attention. She succinctly explained how the condition developed and, in Hyunjins case, how it had led to an ‘acute kidney injury’.

Hyunjin stared at her dully, mouth hung open slightly as her words traveled through his hazy brain. His eyes flickered to Felix, before he spoke up, questioning.  “a… a cute kidney?” He whispered, eyebrows drawing together in disbelief. 

Felix let out a surprised noise, somewhere between a laugh and a startled sob. He quickly covered his face, unable to hide the mix of emotions bubbling inside him. 

Rubbing his thumb over Hyunjin’s hand, Felix responded. “Mmm, not quite, Hyunjinnie. It’s ‘acute,’ not ‘cute.’” He smiled despite himself, though his eyes remained sullen.

Chan, unable to help the soft chuckle that escaped him, explained it to him in Korean. “Acute, meaning sudden… and not good, usually.”

The doctor continued when they settled, seeming unfazed by the interruption. She told him how he had been lucky, how this sort of thing could’ve been dangerous, but that they got to him in time. “Your vitals are stable, but we will have to keep you here for treatment and monitoring. We can’t know the extent of the damage until we’ve done some further testing.”

Chan stepped into the doctors line of sight once she finished talking, looking at the her with a troubled expression, as if he too was having a hard time processing it all. “So.. then.. is he going to be okay?”

The doctor didn’t confirm, nor did she deny. She looked at Chan, putting on a small smile. It looked fake, Hyunjin concluded. 

“We are going to monitor him closely, he is in very safe hands here. If you had come in any later, I wouldn’t be comfortable saying this, but since we got to him when we did.. I do believe there is a strong chance of full recovery.” 

Chans hardened expression finally cracked, and he hung his head as he let out a long exhale. “Okay.” he declared, clearing his throat and straightening his back in an attempt to regain his composure. “Thank you.”

The nurse swiftly went around the bed, checking each and every monitor that Hyunjin was attached to, before she and the doctor left with a promise to return within the hour.

There was a silence that stretched thin and uncomfortably across the room once they left. Both Felix and Bang Chan looked off in the distance with disconcerting looks on their faces. Hyunjin just stared blankly at them. 

“Uh…” Hyunjin finally mustered, his voice a mere rasp breaking through the stillness. “So… definitely no cute kidneys then..?”

Chan and Felix both snapped out of their trance, heads swiftly jerking around to look at the boy in the hospital bed. Felix chuckled a little more freely now, a single tear slipping down his cheek as he pressed a kiss to the back of Hyunjins hand. “No cute kidneys, unfortunately.” 

Chan stepped closer, giving Hyunjin a soft, dimpled smile. He seemed a little conflicted for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what to say next.

“.. you really scared us yesterday, Hyunjin.” Bang Chans voice sounded sullen, wavering a little. He swallowed thickly. “Please, don’t ever do that again.”

Hyunjin felt his stomach drop, heart breaking at the sorrowful tone in his hyungs voice. “I’m… I’m sorry, I’ll try not…. Wait- yesterday?”

“Yeah… you’ve been clonked out for a while.” Felix chimed in, smiling sympathetically as Hyunjins face went through a flurry of emotion. 

How long had he been out exactly? And.. had they stayed with him all this time? They were still wearing the same clothes, as far as he could tell. Were the others not allowed to come with? Probably not..

Chan picked up the chairs from the corner and placed them next to the bed, settling himself in one as he began to translate the information that the doctor had given them. Just the most crucial parts, simplifying it a little for Hyunjins sake.

Hyunjin was still not fully with it, but he certainly was more coherent than he had  been earlier. “Uh-huh. My kidneys are not cute at all then… probably quite ugly, actually.” he sighed, shutting his eyes. 

“It it’s any help, I don’t really think anyone’s kidneys are usually described as cute” Felix reassured him, flashing an award-winning smile. Hyunjin reciprocated it with a weak tug of his lips.

“Yeah, whether your kidneys are cute or not shouldn’t be on your lift of worries, Hyunjin-ah” Chan said, his tone soft yet serious. He reached out, his hand lightly ruffling Hyunjins hair in a comforting motion. Unlike Felix, Chan’s face didn’t hold a smile this time. His expression was sombre, reflective of the reality of the situation. Of what could’ve happened if…

“Let’s just focus on getting you better, yeah? We’ll take it day by day.. and you’ll never be alone. Not as long as we have a say in it.” Chan looked at Felix, who nodded supportively and gave Hyunjin’s hand a soft squeeze.

“Just….try to get some more rest, okay? we’re not going anywhere.”

_______THE END____________

Soo, I got this idea and started writing some things about it back in December actually.. it’s been very on and off since then, and I hope it is a decent result at last😅

I’ll probably have to read through it at some later point and fix on it or something but…. I’ll let you have it now, either way✋🏽 Bon appétit

[timideartilleur]

"It's just another day at the Committee of Public Safety (21th Century AU)"

Episode 1 - "Fixed hardware, broken heart"

What follows is a tiny script I wrote many months ago, set in a modern AU. The main characters, as you might have already guessed from the title, are the CSP members. Thanks to @mathildeaquisexta for giving me the courage to post it, as I wasn't convinced at all... Hope you enjoy!

Billaud: [frowns] Guys… This stupid machine has broken again [hits the monitor of his PC].

Carnot: If you keep doing that of course it will break. What happened?

Billaud: It’s already broken!! [whines] I told you!...Internet Explorer stopped working so I deleted “explorer.exe” from the task manager to then open it again…

Carnot: You did what!?

Billaud: [angry] I did what you told me to do in these cases…!

Carnot: I never sa-

Hérault: Aaaaaah… You and your cryptic, diabolic machines! I find myself so good with pen and paper.

Carnot: Cryptic…? Come on, even Lindet managed to learn how to send emails…

Collot: [laughs immoderately] Have you heard, Lindet?

Lindet: [with his head stuck on his paperwork] No, I haven’t. Usually when Carnot speaks, all my ears can grasp is an indistinct cacophony.

Carnot: [indistinct noises of annoyance].

Billaud: [sobs] I’ve lost all of my work now!!

Saint-Just: Haven’t you done a backup of your files?

Billaud: Oh… [puzzled] What do you mean with “backup?

Carnot: Supreme Being… [rolls his eyes, gives a quick look at Billaud’s monitor]. It’s not broken, just stuck.

Collot: [with impatience] And what are you waiting for!? Fix it, would you? We’re having a call with some representatives in half an hour.

Carnot: [narrows his eyes, in a passive aggressive tone] You know what? I won’t. I’m tired of constantly fixing your devices and, most importantly, not being listened to!

Robespierre: Nobody ever asked you anything.

Saint-Just: Can’t Prieur do it? He’s quite good with technology.

Robespierre: Isn’t he on mission?

Saint-Just: [sighs] Not that Prieur, the other one there [points at Prieur de la Côte-d'Or on the opposite side of the room].

Robespierre: Aaaah! [smirks] You mean Pierre-Louis!

[Saint-Just facepalms.]

Collot: Geez Robespierre, how can you still confuse them?

Saint-Just: Anyway… Prieur, can you please unstuck Billaud’s pc? Since Monsieur le Chevalier de Saint-Louis here refuses to do it?

Carnot: [angry, raises his voice] How did you call me!?

C.A. Prieur: [smiles embarrassed] B-but, but… No I… I can’t. [Blushes] I’m not as good as Carnot with these things… I don’t think I…

Billaud: [rushes towards Prieur, folds his hands in front of him] Pleeeeeeease, dear Prieur! It’s essential for me to have my files back…!... And for Collot too: he has to receive an important message…!

Hérault: [confused] Why can’t Collot use his computer? He has a fancy Apple one. Also his phone can-

Robespierre: Believe me, you don’t want to know what happened neither to Collot’s pc, nor to his phone… And what might happen to yours in case you have the foolish idea to lend them to him.

C.A. Prieur: Fine, fine I’ll see what I can do… [stands up and timidly approaches Billaud's desk]. Oh, it’s actually not that hard: you press the power button for a few seconds forcing the machine to shut down. Just that! Next time you turn it on, it should be alright, see? [does what he has just said, showing Billaud that the pc is working and no data have been lost.]

Billaud: [amazed] Wooooooooooh!!

C.A. Prieur: By the way, it’s correct to delete processes from the task manager when they stop working, but in this case you deleted “explorer.exe” instead of “iexplorer.exe”, which is the process tied to the Internet browser.

Billaud: Thank you!! [squeezes Prieur in his arms.]

Saint-Just: Well done, Prieur. A quick and effective solution combined with a clear explanation of the problem… [glances at Carnot to tease him]... Without wasting words on dramatic tirades.

Carnot: [blushing with rage, tries to pull himself together] Very well. Since my contribution not only isn’t appreciated, but it’s also mocked, there’s no need for me to stay any longer. [Quickly packs his stuff up and leaves the room shutting the door.]

Robespierre: What a drama queen.

Collot: Dude, you acted more or less in the same way just a few days ago, when he told you your poems are stupid.

Lindet: Can someone please go calm him down? He still has to give me back some reports I sent him a while ago.

C.A. Prieur: [sighs and frowns] I fixed Billaud’s pc… Guess it’s my duty to fix Carnot’s wounded heart too… [takes his cane and leaves the room.]

Hérault: How poetic…! But human hearts aren’t like machines!

[Barère abruptly enters the room.]

Barère: [joyful] Bonjour, mes amis!!

Robespierre: [serious, points at his watch] Do you know what time is it?

Barère: [smile proudly, nods] I’m perfectly on time!

Saint-Just: It’s 10 am.

Barère: Oh well… [embarrassed] Today is my day off, so…

Collot: [astonished] Day off!? Since when have we had days off!?

Billaud: The revolution never goes on holiday!

Barère: [a bit disoriented] But, but, but… I asked permission to-

Saint-Just: You asked permission to none and are blatantly lying.

Barère: [frowns, in an emotional tone] But, but… Listen, it’s complicated… There was a little problem with my wife and I have to go ba-

Hérault: [shocked] Married!? You are married!?

[General stupor. Even Lindet raises his head from the paperwork.]

Collot: [nonchalantly] Yes yes… With a vain, spoiled, noble brat.

Saint-Just & Robespierre: What!?

Barère: [blushes] Hey…! [looks down] Don’t call her like that… Besides, how do you know!?

Hérault: Indeed…

Collot: [grins] Fouché told me.

Barère: [annoyed] And how the hell he knows!?

Fouché: I know everything.

[Everyone turns around towards Fouché who’s standing behind them.]

Hérault: And where do you come from!?

Billaud: [sobs] Man’s truly in the walls of this room… 

Fouché: [creepily smiles with widened eyes] I was simply looking for Collot, he doesn’t reply to my calls.

Collot: Ah, right, yes huh. [Takes his coat left on a chair and joins Fouché] Excuse-me, nerds. I have some matters to settle.

To be continued...

[winterfeverscare]

How do ya think Sly x Scrap would play out? Would it be hurt and comfort sort of thing or slow burn?...

I was waiting for this my entire blog lifespawn.

I have a headcanon actually. Espers see people's lives from their perspectives, I mean they see what people felt and their purposes. Scrap saw Eve's complete life, seeing how she was "wounded" by Sly, because this is how she felt for all this time. Scrap thinks squeak bothers Sly as a karma class, even if he disagrees.

Now, Scrap has never met Sly. Whenever he went to the house of the comets, fen was always hidden in her room so as not to see the visits and anyone.

Even if Eve does not act cruel to Sly in front Scrap, he can read what Eve did and her previous actions, because she recalls what she does.

"I want my brother to see me. Give me attention."

"...I know."

So, one day along with his Savior Complex, Scrap dares to go to Sly's room to try to talk about things. When she opens the door, he can see Sly's life completely. Eve's "severe" trauma was only caused by Sly trying to grow, while Eve comes to Sly to destroy fen self-esteem and flood her in fen depression.

Who to believe? He could see in Sly's eyes that Eve was nothing more than a victimist in her own mind, showing what squeak was capable of.

"What Happened?" Sly whispered, something uncomfortable for seeing a visitor to her room.

"I..."

But Scrap was in shock. Her girlfriend is an abusive asshole to squeak own sister.

"Nothing, I'm sorry for coming."

Scrap would take a few days to think, being against the sword and the wall. He wanted to help Sly, but he couldn't leave his girlfriend like that. But...after seeing what his girlfriend was capable of, does he really want a future with her?

He hits Sly's door again on another day, coming to visit the house of the comets. Eve was next to Norma, and wanted to take advantage of the situation.

"What happened...Again?"

"Eve is with Norma. Can we talk?"

"... if this is about Eve, I don't want-"

"I want to talk to you, about you. Please."

---

I think it would be both hurt-comfort AND slowburn. Sly accepting she was hurt, and Scrap accepting the person he loved was an abusive person. They both grow in each other.

[south-sea]

i just wanted to draw his wings

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

The fans: Ugh Sonic was just so preachy. I mean obviously he's supposed to be the good guy, so any uncomfortableness I feel here and any way I feel like Sonic's choices are framed as being why some other people have shitty lives is just bad writing because he is obviously supposed to be right always, but this characterization makes no sense. Isn't he right for the things he did?

Ian Flynn, using Kitsunami to say the (barely even at this point) quiet part even louder: Hey it's almost like ever since the Mr. Tinker event we've been purposely running with the critique of Sonic as being more selfish than he appears. Sonic is upholding a system of Eggman v Sonic that currently benefits him and shuts down talk of how to improve the current system because he likes his own personal enjoyment and he's attached enough to Eggman that he'd rather Eggman pretend to be a good person than be stuck in prison for life. He doesn't even quite practice what he preaches. We are trying to show that the current hero v villain system and Sonic's recklessness currently affects some people poorly and that Sonic isn't a perfect hero.

[youremyonlyhope]

Who gave Sondheim the right to write a song as bittersweetly perfect as Sorry-Grateful?

[kanene-yaaay]

Thinking about,,,, them,,,,,

Kel and Sunny,,,,

[arminsumi]

Betting your girl's mouth on a basketball game was crazy — and Suguru was all for it.

After taking a loss that may or may not have been deliberate, jock!Suguru wears a dirty grin on his face while watching you suck his best friends virgin cock like a good girl, loving the nasty wet noises you make while slurping up and down nerd!Satoru's pulsing shaft, slowly stroking himself to the sight of you on your knees, making cock disappear in your mouth like magic.

And Satoru — the poor boy — is losing his mind because he's never felt a woman's lips around his dummy big cock before. He used to tell you that sex is beneath him — now he's throwing his head back, gritting his pearly whites, curling his toes and biting his bottom lip 'till it's all red, totally surrendering to your little mouth — it's just so funny to you, 'cause he's been the know-it-all bastard telling you "... you're just Suguru's slut. If you paid as much attention in class as you did to my best friend's dick, maybe you'd amount to something. Do you even remember what we learned yesterday? Exactly. But I do — that's why I'm the top student and you're just — "

Bla bla bla... Satoru's now showing you how much precum his dummy big cock leaks — it's a sticky mess oozing out of his tip all over your quivering tongue. You looked up at him and winked, and he seethed inside because god he's hated you for so long but now your lips are wrapped around his cock and your mouth is taking him to heaven.

He's whining, biting into his fist, knees all wobbly. the texture of your tongue drives him nuts — then it clicks. oh, this is why my best friend is obsessed with his girlfriend. This is why he can't shut up and stop oversharing his sex life with me.

'Cause heaven really does exist on her tongue.

"fuck, slow down..." Satoru tries to ease his cock out your mouth, feeling his orgasm threatening to erupt at any moment.

But Suguru pushes you back down on his cock, filling your cheeks again, "nah, keep going baby, he's gonna cum — aren't you Satoru? You're gonna cum in my girl's mouth, huh? Come on, big boy, I know how long you've wanted this. Fill this little slut's mouth with your cum."

Those taunting words push him over the edge. His heavy balls tighten up as he feels you suckling his swollen head, and then white ropes come bursting out.

"Ahh—gh! Fuck... nn!"

Satoru's legs give out and he moans like you've never heard a man moan before, releasing all the cum he's worked up for you like he's been waiting years to do this. Actually, he has been waiting years — waiting patiently to find an opportunity to make your jaw ache and eyes well up with tears.

"Baby, you gonna swallow my best friend's cum f'me?" Suguru encourages, stroking his cock lazily against your cheek now.

He watches you compliantly swallow Satoru's seed, and Satoru twitches at the sight.

Huffing, Satoru comes down from his high and brushes his white wispy bangs out of his eyes. He's glaring down at your mouth.

"... still fucking hate you... " Satoru mutters to you in a voice still shaky with the after-effects of his orgasm.

"I still hate you, too." you smile back at him.

His heart flutters and bottom lip twitches. He can't stop staring at your lips, your eyes, your hips, your thighs.

"Ah, Satoru, quit your act — you're the one who proposed this idea in the first place."

You went red in the face. It was Satoru's idea? The mister goody-two-shoes, know-it-all, all A+++ report cards, 'sex is beneath me' Satoru?

"Huh? I thought this was your idea..." but before you can express your surprise you're already feeling Suguru nudge his cockhead against your lips.

"Sh sh, now it's my turn, baby. Open wide."