#and we continued to not question it until so many fucking years later

[swag-system]

🍑 - do your alters have their own spaces/rooms? 🍎 - was your headspace there when you first discovered you were a system, or did you have to make/build it? ⛽ - how did you discover you were a system? 🧭 - were there any obvious signs that you were a system before your discovery?

🍑 - i assume this means like in headspace which nooope. we aint got shit!!!

🍎 - im gonna be honest idk how tf people make headspaces. we got a black void where we can look at each other. theres a couch for the people in front. sometimes theres objects. its been like this since forever and i straight up dont know how i could make it be any other way. we cant even really talk in headspace that easily either, its so difficult we usually just take turns typing using pluralkit to have conversations. cooked

as a note, i believe there are a few parts of headspace that actually have Stuff but idk. its mostly just a black void. honestly its not really a concern of ours anyways. making a detailed headspace (however ppl do that) just sounds like too much brain power

⛽ - its kind of hard to explain, i guess one day it just. clicked? we had spent years hanging around system friends beforehand and during a breakdown we kinda just. realized. like "oh hey wait a minute". and then the old host freaked out so bad he made everything like 100x worse but once we fully chilled the fuck out about it it really did just make sense. we got diagnosed with OSDD and then DID (twas changed after our therapist spent more time observing switches) a while later (dont remember when lol) and after figuring it all out weve just been living like we always have, only difference is after discovery we had words to describe our situationship + much better internal communication + less horrible memory barriers.

🧭 - SO MANY. SO SO MANY. back in our 1 year of middle school there was an entire fictive alter that would do our homework and sign HIS OWN NAME and we wouldnt remember it at all but we were goin thru a lot so we just shrugged n went "i guess my name is hawkfrost now" and decided to just be grateful our homework was done. also like. multiple noticeable alters and switches our whole life really. weve always been a system, we just didnt have any words to explain or understand what was going on in our brain until 2021.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon felt terrible for what he was doing, but he truly felt what he was doing was the right thing. Last night should never have happened, and he knew deep down you deserved better than him.

The two of you had slept together the night before, both of your harbored crushes for one another finally bubbling to the surface, leading to a night in Simon’s bed.

But when the reality of what the night had truly meant for you both set in, Simon felt himself questioning if it was really the right thing for both of you.

So instead of talking to you like he knows he should’ve, he began finding excuses to distance himself from you, and spent nearly the entire day not acknowledging your presence.

It wasn’t until later that night, when everyone had gone to bed did you finally confront him. When you walked up to him, Simon could clearly tell you had been crying, and it nearly tore his heart in half.

“Simon, can we talk please? You’ve been avoiding me all day.” Your voice was laced with trepidation, something Simon wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of.

“Can’t, got an early mornin’.” Simon hated how cold his voice sounded, and he could hear the soft gasp from you in response. “Goodnight, Sergeant.”

“Will you just talk to me, please?” You begged, grabbing Simon’s arm with as much strength as you could muster. “I don’t know what I did wrong, but you ignoring me all day is really screwing with my head, Simon.”

Simon looked at the floor, his mind racing with things he wanted to say to you, but nothing came out as his throat ran dry. He stood there a moment, before his eyes lifted up to you, his gut wrenching when he saw tears falling down your cheeks.

“Are you not going to say anything?” You asked, your voice shaking as you dropped your hand from his arm. “Was last night was a mistake?”

Fuck no it wasn’t. Not to him. Last night was one of the best nights of his life. The woman he’d yearned for years for finally returning his affections, a night of the best sex he’s ever had. God no he didn’t think it was a mistake.

But that didn’t matter right now. Simon knew now how you truly felt for him, and he knew it was just a matter of time before he unwittingly broke your heart, and he needed to protect you from that. He needed to protect himself from that.

So he kept quiet, he watched as your bottom lip quivered, and as tears continued to fall down your cheeks. Watching you like this destroyed Simon, but he told himself this was for the best.

“I guess I have my answer then. I apologize for thinking I meant anything more to you than a shameless fuck.” You held your head high, biting your bottom lip to prevent it from quivering and turned to walk out of the room.

“Y/N.” Simon spoke, causing you to turn around. “Look, I just don’t think this would be a good idea. I’m your superior, and a relationship between us would be frowned upon. It’s not you, it’s-.”

“Don’t insult me by finishing that sentence, Simon.” You waived your hand, cutting him off. You felt a new wave of confidence build in your chest as you looked up at him. “I don’t know what changed between last night and today, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. Clearly this was one sided on my part. We’ll just forget this ever happened and move on. Good night, Ghost.”

The use of his code name hurt more than Simon would let on. There were so many things he wanted to say in reply, so many unspoken words swirling about in his head- but all he could do was watch you turn on your heel and walk away from him.

And all Simon could do was wonder if he was truly doing the right thing, for the woman he loved.

[sugrhigh]

TOUCH IT - ( c.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- you and chris have never gotten along, despite your close relationship with his two brothers. you find out that’s he’s been messing with your love life behind your back, and all hell breaks loose. you both exchange many hurtful pranks, until you take it too far and chris shows up at your place

warnings- SMUT W/ A PLOT (enemies to lovers), virgin!reader x playboy!chris, cursing, you know the drill

a/n: it’s been forever, but i have returned!! thank you for waiting and i truly hope this makes up for my absence. to the nonnie who requested this im praying it meets expectations lol. my inbox is always open for reqs, comments, sweet nothings, etc <3

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @lovesodakid @mattslolita @sturniolopepsi @boywonderblogs @cherrypostsposts @iprk90 @bxbynyah7 @mbbsgf @zivall @slut4chriss @sturniolossss @sturnslcver @k111rby @vsangel-starbies @ginswife @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturngirly @faygo-frog @s8nshines @bellasashylegs @mattsbbg @sturnlova @huntiesworld @cthasia @mattybsbitch @justalittle47 @ponyosturniolo @goldengrapejuice @matthewsturniolosactualgf @lustfulslxt @kenzieiskoolaid @ryli3sworld @c6ina @mcdonaldscocacola @venusvonlaw

your sniffles fill the living room, a pathetic sound that continues as you wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. well, it’s actually nick’s sweatshirt, and even though you’re getting your makeup all over it, he feels so terrible that he doesn’t mind.

“i don’t understand, you guys. why would he blow me off after we already went on three really good dates?” you question, voice cracking in hurt.

nick shakes his head solemnly, rubbing your arm to try and console you. “because he’s a fucking loser. i know it sucks, but i promise you this is for the best. now you don’t have to waste any more time on that dick.”

you just sigh. he’s right, but that doesn’t make you feel any less embarrassed. being stood up is a hit to the self-esteem, especially when you get all dressed up to wait around outside the restaurant like an idiot and have your best friends pick you up an hour later.

and after years of being on the sidelines, of watching everyone around you date and fall in love, you have to admit that you really thought something was growing. you thought it was your turn.

meeting wes was like a breath of fresh air, and after a few very promising initial hangouts, you figured this might finally be it. a cute guy with similar interests who actually seemed to like you.

but you suppose you guessed wrong.

“he was so sweet though, and that’s why i’m confused. the guy i thought that i was going out with would have never done that.” you reason, more with yourself than with him.

matt huffs from the other side of you, pushing his hair back on his forehead. “don’t cut him any slack. if he was even halfway decent he would’ve been open and communicated with you.”

another truth bomb that only further ruptures your heart. you know they’re trying to help, even though nothing about this is making you feel any better.

the whole thing is a disaster, though you should have known better. your entire love life has always been a mess. but each time you meet someone new and start to fall, you’re hopeful that it’ll be different.

“i just want to know what i did.” you mutter, sniffling again to try and stop your runny nose.

before either of them can respond, a loud bang erupts out from the kitchen and infiltrates the moment. you flinch, snapping your head in the direction of the noise just to meet a pair of icy eyes.

it’s chris, because of course he has to see you like this, at your literal lowest point. he’s got a small pot in hand as he stares you down, somehow managing to look both annoyed and indifferent at the same time.

“what are you whining about this time?” he asks, turning his back to you so he can set the pot on the stove and switch on the burner.

“be nice, chris. she’s having a rough night.” nick tells his brother, who doesn’t heed the warning in the slightest.

instead he just spins around to face the three of you once more, a small (but still smug) smile lighting up his face.

“oh, you had a date with that idiot wesley didn’t you? how did it go?”

chris poses it as a question, but you see right through him. his sarcastic tone indicates that he already knows how it went, considering your mascara is streaked under your bloodshot eyes and you’re in nick’s clothes rather than your own outfit.

but still, you find yourself giving him an answer, though it’s followed up by an interrogation of your own. “he didn’t show. you happen to know anything about that?”

he shrugs, reaching to open the pantry and grab some pasta. “nope.”

“bullshit.”

it flies out of your mouth before you truly think about it, but you’re kind of happy you spoke up for once. you know he’s hiding something, and you deserve the whole truth.

“what is that supposed to mean?” he narrows his eyes, like he’s challenging you to say more.

“it means you’re lying right to my face. what did you do?” you question further, even though you’re not entirely sure you want the answer.

chris gnaws on his cheek, trying to decide how much to tell you. and then he remembers that his brothers are in the room, and that he’d never be caught dead admitting to any sort of vulnerability, so his mouth starts running without a second thought.

“oh, that? yeah, i ran into wes the other day at the gym.” he shrugs simply, like that explains it all.

you rise to your feet, legs far ahead of your brain as you charge in his direction. “what the fuck did you say, chris?”

he’s surprised by your temper considering you’re usually so mild-mannered, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stand down. instead, he straightens to puff his chest out, crossing his arms in a defensive stance.

“i told him the truth. that you’re a prude, and that you’ll never let him hit no matter how many amazing dates you go on.”

your mouth falls open and you stop in your tracks, just a few feet from him now. there’s no softness in his eyes; he’s completely shut down, focused on upholding the facade.

never in a million years did you expect him to throw your inexperience back at you as an insult, no matter how much you both disliked each other.

you’re pretty sure you hear both matt and nick gasp lightly from the living room, completely taken aback by their brothers brazenness. you can’t blame them. you’re almost not sure how to react, or what to say. almost.

“you’re gonna regret the day you ever fucked with me, christopher sturniolo. i can promise you that.”

and you kept that promise.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you hear him roar from somewhere upstairs.

you immediately smile, munching on your breakfast (even though it’s noon) in the kitchen. nick looks over from beside you with wide eyes, and then takes notice of your satisfied expression.

“what did you do?” he asks in a hushed voice as you hear chris come bounding down the stairs.

you shrug and turn to look over your shoulder at the man of the hour. he’s shirtless, hair tussled from sleep with his sweats hanging low on his waist, and he’s waving around a pair of his boxers. it’s one of the expensive ones that you know is now completely destroyed thanks to your doing.

“really? cutting out a hole in all of my underwear?” chris snaps at you, tossing them at your feet because he doesn’t know what else to do.

it’s a dick hole, to be specific. they’re completely in tact aside from the gaping space where it’s supposed to protect his manhood.

“figured it would help save time since you wanna fuck everything that moves.” you say, taking a satisfying bite of your bacon as you study him with a smirk.

nick lets out a laugh, because he knows that chris honestly deserves it after his asshole behavior towards you a few days ago.

you’d been strong, pretending it didn’t phase you as much as it really had whenever you were hanging out with them. but it was beyond messed up, and neither of the boys could understand why their brother would go to that extent just to sabotage your relationship.

“better than being a stuck-up virgin who thinks she’s smarter than she is.” he growls in return, and there’s a mean look in his eyes.

you know he’s trying to hurt you, but he’s once again tossing your innocence around like a dig, which is what offends you the most considering it’s a deep-rooted insecurity.

and you hate that he’s still being malicious while he looks so damn heavenly standing across from you, his bare chest heaving in anger. it makes your stomach flip uncomfortably.

you don’t know if you’re sick with rage or sick with desire.

definitely rage, right?

“i’d rather be selective than completely ran through.” you hurl another diss at him, which he just scoffs at.

“you think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you? how many other times have you snuck into my room while i’m sleeping?” chris questions, taking a singular step forward.

he’s towering over you as you sit at the table, but you don’t let it intimidate you like he wants. instead, you say the one thing that you know he won’t expect.

“how many times have you thought about taking me in there yourself, huh?” you accuse him harshly.

your words hang in the air, and the tension is palpable. his lips part in shock, and you watch the blush creep up his neck to his face because he can’t count on both hands how much he’s pictured you in his bed.

you’re also stunned by his reaction, but you try not to show it. you expected him to tell you how wrong you are, how he would never touch you in a million years.

but he doesn’t.

“jesus, what did i just walk in to?” matt grumbles as he trudges past his brother into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

chris answers before you can. “nothing, she’s just being insane.”

“i’m sure whatever she did was reasonable after that douchebag comment you made the other day.” he replies easily, and your heart swells at the fact that he came to your defense.

you know it puts your two best friends in a tough situation considering you’re constantly bickering with their brother, but it’s nice to know they have your back on this.

“fine. i don’t fucking need this from all three of you anyways.” chris’s frown deepens as he turns on his heel to head back upstairs.

part of you feels a bit bad as you watch him go, but the overwhelming sensation that takes over is pride. you finally fought back, and you may have actually ended it.

well, that’s what you thought anyways, but you find that you’re once again wrong.

on your way back from the triplets house two days later, you were honked at eight separate times. you started keeping track.

the first instance scared the absolute shit out of you, because you thought you were about to get into an accident or something. your hand had flown to your chest, a loud curse leaving your mouth as your other palm gripped the wheel.

and then it happened again, and again, and many more times after that. you were pretty sure there was something written into the grime on your back window, but you couldn’t read it no matter how hard you tried.

you’re enraged by the time you park at your place, tearing out of the driver's seat to go look. you pull out your phone and tap the flashlight on, illuminating the hidden message.

honk if u think im a SLUT

you press your shaky fingers to your mouth, completely embarrassed by the fact that you’d been driving around like this and by the fact that so many people had essentially called you a whore.

what a stupid prank, considering you had almost crashed your car over it. you grab a napkin from your center console and wipe it all away, grumbling under your breath about how much you hate chris the whole time.

you stalk into your little ground-level apartment, slamming the front door shut behind you. by the time you’ve kicked off your shoes and made it to your bedroom you’ve worked yourself into a fit.

you whip your phone back out and find yourself pulling up his contact despite how much you don’t want to hear his cocky remarks.

but it’s ringing regardless, and he picks up on the second one. he was expecting the call, anxiously awaiting your reaction because he knew it would piss you off enough to talk to him.

“hey.” chris says simply, smiling to himself as he leans back in the rolling chair in his room.

“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? and also a raging hypocrite while we’re at it. am i a prude or a slut, chris?” you lash out immediately, pacing around your room because you can’t seem to sit down.

“you’re a slutty prude.” he replies, and you can literally hear the smirk in his voice.

“and you’re just a little bitch. you love to act like you’re so tough, but i think you’re the weakest person i know by far. always too scared to say what you really mean.” your words are sharp yet fluid, as if they’re coming from someone besides yourself.

there’s a pause, just for a brief second, and you wonder what’s going through his head. you don’t know what’s going through your own anymore.

the line crackles and he sucks in a breath, re-arming himself to continue this brawl.

“you want me to say what i mean? i think you love riding on your high horse, pretending that you’re better than everyone else. like you’re so pure. but really you’re just needy and desperate, hoping someone will come along and fuck you right.”

your mouth is suddenly completely dry, trying to process what he even means while also coming up with a quick response.

“you think about people fucking me a lot? or do you think about you fucking me a lot?” you ask a beat later, bringing back the conversation from the other day.

he feels the blood rush to his dick, which stiffens against his sweats from this kind of talk with you. he’s only ever imagined it in his dreams.

“you wish it was me, don’t you sweetheart? taking it slow, making you weak.” he mutters, and you feel yourself throb from his words alone.

you hate how much it turns you on, thinking about chris completely having his way with you. you can feel the butterflies erupt in your stomach, pattering through your gut and up to your chest.

“you gonna come do something about it or are you just gonna keep talking shit?” you call him out.

he sucks in a breath, completely hard now from your alluring voice and the context of your words.

there’s nothing he wants more than to sprint to your house and spread you out on your bed, to show you what real pleasure is all about. but there’s so many underlying problems, one of which is the fact that his brothers are best friends with you.

there’s a lot to ruin, even though he knows he already destroyed any chance of a real relationship between the two of you the second he met you. but still, being honest means things will change, and that scares him.

so he pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up.

for a second you don’t even realize, and then the ending tone alerts you that he’s not waiting to respond, he’s just a fucking jerk. you can’t believe he ended the call so abruptly, like it didn’t phase him at all.

your legs are shaky as you throw yourself down into bed, ignoring the chill you still feel creeping across your body from the conversation.

he won’t get the last laugh. you won’t let him.

chris thinks about you the most at night. it’s hardest to get you out of his head when he’s alone in his room, just like he is now, watching tv to try and drown out his overactive mind. he hasn’t seen you in a few days, which is unusual, and he doesn’t like to admit it but he misses you.

you’re the reason he’s scrolling through instagram in the first place, aimlessly liking girls' photos just to try and convince himself that he’s interested in other people.

but he’s not. he hasn’t been in a long time, because he knew almost immediately that you’re everything he’s ever wanted, which was only confirmed as you continued to stick around. the thought alone was terrifying.

so he pushed you, and pushed you, and pushed you, ensuring that you’d steer clear of him. it just seemed easier, though it’s proving to be quite the opposite.

he’s just about to turn to video games for saving when his phone goes off in his hand. it’s a text from a girl he met over a week ago at a party, who had come back to spend the night with him.

and she’s asking if he has chlamydia.

the question is followed by a screenshot, which chris taps on immediately as his heart beats out of his chest. it’s a different message from some kind of bot number, alleging that he recently tested positive and she should see a doctor.

the sad part is that it looks pretty official, so much so that if he received the text himself he would probably believe it blindly. his face burns in embarrassment and irritation.

then another one comes through, from a girl he used to hook up with pretty frequently last month. by the time he responds to one person, he’s greeted by more messages from others.

five girls text him in the span of five minutes, which just adds insult to injury that they’re all questioning it too. but finally, they stop coming, and he’s pretty sure it’s over.

and now that he’s no longer focused on repeatedly putting the rumor to bed, he’s pissed.

of course chris knows it was you behind all of it, because who else would it be. he just can’t believe you thought of it, that you bested him at his own game.

there’s so much pent up energy in his body that he feels like he could run a mile. but he doesn’t. instead he jams his feet into his sneakers and orders a car, on a path of complete destruction.

you're midway through an episode of broad city when you hear a pounding on your front door, which you don’t expect. it surprises you so much that you actually have to take a second to calm your racing heart down from the panic.

you know who it is too, which scares you more. you weren’t expecting him to just show up like this, especially since it’s only been a little over fifteen minutes since your latest prank.

you were thinking maybe there would be an angry confrontation next time you went over to their house, but not right now.

the knocking comes again, louder and more impatient this time. you finally bring yourself to get off the couch, heading for the front door and squaring your shoulders as you go.

you swing it open a second later, and even though you expected him, you’re still troubled by chris’s expression. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so infuriated, so intense.

his eyes are dark as he stares you down, muscles straining and on display in his black wife beater. his entire face is flushed, and even though you know he took an uber here, it looks like he could’ve sprinted the whole way.

“do you think you’re fucking funny?” he seethes, taking a step toward you.

instinctively you move backwards, like two opposite ends of a magnet. chris raises an eyebrow, and you tilt your head.

“am i laughing?” you ask sharply.

“why are you messing with my life like this, huh? all because i made a comment to some dumbass kid?” he continues to rail you with questions.

you literally can’t help but just blink at him for a moment, completely at a loss over the fact that he sees nothing wrong with what he did.

“if you really believe that it wasn’t a big deal, you’re even worse than i thought.” you respond, voice quiet but lethal.

this time his anger actually falters, and his grimace turns to a slight frown. you’ve cursed him out plenty of times, but somehow this feels way more real. and it rips through him like a knife.

“yeah, i’m the awful one. you wanna know what wes was saying about you to his friends in the gym that day? he said that he was trying to fuck you for the roster, and that he was hoping to do it after your date so he wouldn’t have to see you again.”

he reveals this information rather bluntly. it just falls out of his mouth, and there’s no way to stop it, so he keeps going, “and then i told him all that stupid shit about you to scare him away, because i thought it was easier to keep hating me than to hear the truth about him.”

your jaw goes slack, lips parting even though you have no thoughts running through your head. or, more specifically, you’re having so many thoughts crowding you that you can’t pick one.

“i—okay, let me get this straight. instead of just being honest with me, you let me wait around outside a fancy restaurant by myself for an hour like a fucking fool?” you grill him, still somehow finding a way to be pissed off.

“i didn’t want to hurt you.” chris counters, taking another step toward you so he’s almost inside the doorway.

you stand your ground this time, staring him down defiantly. “don’t give me that bullshit, you’ve been tormenting me since the day we met and you know it.”

he shakes his head, a frustrated grunt leaving his lips. “why do you insist on misunderstanding me?”

“because you don’t make any sense! first you hate my guts, and now i’m supposed to just accept that you were supposedly looking out for me the whole time?” you throw your hands up in exasperation.

“i never hated you, y/n. not even for a second. and i know it’s not my place but he didn’t deserve to be anywhere near you, especially not after what he said.”

this absolutely infuriates you, and you place both of your hands in between your two bodies to shove him back onto the little patio. he’s stunned by your temper, but he only lets it show for a moment.

“what, and you do? you ever think about all of the shit you’ve said about me, chris?” you’re louder now, because you feel like you’re being made to look like an idiot.

he just approaches again, which sends you backing up into the apartment as he follows close behind. chris kicks the door shut and reaches out, one hand slipping behind your neck while the other moves to hold onto your hip, forcing you close to him.

“i didn’t mean any of it. i liked you from the moment i met you, and i hated that, so i took it out on you to try and keep you away. but i didn’t mean it,” he emphasizes, leaning in slightly so he’s practically breathing his words against your mouth, “let me show you.”

you can smell the musky cologne on his skin, trying so hard to ignore the shiver running down your spine from his proximity alone. your heart is beating out your of your chest and you briefly wonder if he can hear it.

“i don’t…i can’t trust you, chris.” you reply, turning your head so you can avoid his gaze, but he won’t let that happen.

he forces you to look back at him, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck so he can guide your head straight. chris watches your eyes grow wide, lips parting ever so slightly as your resolve continues to fade.

“yes you can, i promise. let me show you what i really think about you, please.” he begs, tilting a bit more so that his lips ghost over yours, testing the waters.

you haven’t been properly kissed in quite some time, and the desire to give in is so strong that you can’t fight any longer. so you lean into it, throwing your arms up so you can wrap them around his neck and pull him flush against your chest.

his mouth melts against yours, tentatively at first to make sure you’re comfortable. when you start to pick up the pace, kissing him with a newfound fervor, chris begins to let his tongue wander against yours more passionately.

then his hands slide down to grip your ass tightly, kneading the supple flesh with his fingers. you gasp against his mouth, an airy and delicate sound that makes his stomach twist. he’s been dying to hear that for over a year now.

a second later you feel him bite down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and admiring the way the skin recoils as he lets go. you didn’t realize how much you would enjoy the mixture of slight pain and pleasure.

“tell me you want this too.” chris demands, lining his mouth up with your ear so that he can speak lowly.

normally you would protest, or insult him, or roll your eyes, but things have completely changed in the last few minutes. now all you can think about is how soft his kisses are, how you want to feel them all over.

so you nod with those doe eyes locked on him as he pulls away to study you, taking in your flustered state. “i want you to show me, chris.”

the sentence is music to his ears, and he can’t believe this is actually finally happening. you break your grasp on his neck, taking a step back so you can slip your hand into his.

you lead him down the hall toward your bedroom, heart thumping against your ribcage with each step you take. you’re nervous, but you also somehow feel more comfortable with him than the few guys who came before.

and sure, you’d never fully had sex with any of them. but now you’re kind of glad you didn’t, so chris can be your first.

your room is a bit messier than you’d like considering you weren’t expecting company, especially not in this part of the house, but you don’t have time to fix it now. it’s not like he gives a single shit; the only thing he’s focused on is you.

the tiny shorts you’re wearing have started to ride up as you tug him along, which only grabs his attention more. chris gives your butt a light smack with his free hand before twirling you back into his side with the other, pressing a steady kiss to your lips.

you laugh slightly, because you can’t help it, which makes him smile against your mouth. it really does feel corny, but he doesn’t care all that much. for you, he’s willing to drop the tough guy act.

“are you sure about this?” chris asks as he pulls away, his forehead pressed against yours as he awaits a response.

you lean in to peck him swiftly again before speaking. “i’m sure, really.”

he nods once, guiding you a few steps backwards so you fall down onto your own plush bed sheets. for a moment he admires the way your hair fans out around you, the slight ‘o’ of surprise that your lips make, trying to capture a mental picture of the moment.

your fingers find the bottom of his shirt in an attempt to speed things up, wrapping the material into your fist and bringing him down on top of you. he braces himself, arms on either side of you while he nudges your legs apart so his knee is between them.

you let your hands grasp his mostly bare shoulders as his head dips down, pressing kisses to your cheek, along your jaw, the hollow area underneath your earlobe. soft little noises fall from your lips as chris finally reaches your neck, careful not to be too rough as he sucks on the sensitive skin of your throat.

he adores it and he wants to hear more, to make them louder. so his mouth trails to your collarbone, which is luckily on display since you’re in a tube top. and then he lifts his thigh forward a bit more, ensuring that his knee brushes right against your clothed heat.

your hips grind down against his muscles almost involuntarily, eliciting a real moan as your cunt throbs desperately. you rock your hips against him at a quicker pace, loving the pressure that's beginning to build in your stomach from the stimulation.

“mmm, y’sound so pretty.” chris grumbles against your body, tongue sloppily running over the now irritated areas.

it’s the first time he’s ever really praised you, and considering it’s coming from the person you least expected, it makes it that much sweeter.

he pauses, pulling his head up so that he can hover over you. his hands begin to slide underneath your top suggestively and you help him, wiggling the stretchy material over your head.

you toss it to the floor, chest fully on display as the cold air rushes over your hardened nipples. a long breath passes by his lips as he takes you in, his dick straining against his sweats now as you gaze at him bashfully.

“quit staring.” you complain, though your voice holds no conviction.

“you make it hard not to.” chris shakes his head with a smile, leaning back down so that he can brush your worries away with another brief kiss.

this time you can feel his hard-on pressed against the inside of your thigh as his mouth searches yours, sloppier yet somehow sweeter this time around. his hand dances across your hip and up your side, moving higher and higher until his fingers are grazing over one of your exposed breasts, stopping to massage it roughly.

your back arches, rutting your chest into his grasp as you groan against his lips. chris pulls away, tiny smirk morphing his features.

“aw, you like that baby?” he goads, spreading his other palm out against the previously untouched mound of flesh, squeezing your nipples between his fingers lightly.

you can feel the wetness pooling at your core as he stays poised between your legs, continuing to tweak the sensitive buds in a way that’s deliciously enjoyable. you’re writhing under his hands, and he loves that you’re completely in his control.

but chris also knows that he can take you further, satisfy you more than you could’ve ever imagined. so he bows to your body, attaching his mouth to your throat and leaving several messy kisses.

his lips shift to brush against the area right above your chest, nipping at the skin lightly as he brings one hand back to grasp one of your tits. finally, he gets far down enough to flick his tongue across one of your nipples, his fingers pinching the other gently, swapping between them after a moment.

“fuck, chris.” you whimper, mind already becoming fuzzy from the carnal desire for more.

“god i love hearing you moan my name.” he admits before sucking the sensitive bud back into his mouth, toying with it a bit more just to drive you crazy.

he stays there for a moment as you both enjoy the dragged out foreplay. it’s a moment with you that he’s waited for for what seems like an eternity, and he wants it to last as long as possible.

and as much as he would like to linger in this spot forever, chris is craving even more of you. the tent in his pants is still growing from all of your beautiful noises and expressions, but he’s only worried about making this the best experience for you.

so he carries on, trailing down the valley of your breasts, wetting the area as he continues. he presses several slow kisses against your stomach, in a straight line leading directly to the waistband of your cotton pants.

you watch as he looks up at you through his long lashes, pupils blown out in lust. “can i take these off, pretty girl?”

“please.” the roles are reversed and now you’re the one begging him.

“so needy.” chris drags the ‘y’ out slightly as he simultaneously does the same thing to your shorts, careful to tug your thin and soaked panties with them.

the air rushes over the slickness that’s already developed, and you instinctively close your legs. you’ve never had anyone actually go down there, just a guy who stuck his hand in your pants to finger you—very poorly, if you’re honest—during seven minutes in heaven well over a year ago.

so it makes you a little self-conscious having him this close. he’s quick to pry you apart again, fully lowering himself to the floor of your room so he’s face to face with your pussy.

“can’t believe no one has ever seen you like this, you little tease.” his voice is low as he starts kissing your inner thigh, working his way in, “wanna taste you so bad.”

he’s growing closer to where you need him, and you throb when you feel his lips graze the innermost part of your leg. chris blows one singular breath right across your cunt, which shocks you slightly, before pressing a soft open-mouthed kiss to your clit.

you feel your legs tremble a little bit in his palms, your hands automatically going to tangle in his hair. a long whine escapes as his tongue works across you, and you can literally feel him smile in satisfaction.

the fact that it’s his mouth making you squirm like this, that he’s the only one that’s ever gotten to eat you out, is something he’s currently taking a lot of pride in.

he lightly teases your entrance, moving back and forth from that and sucking on your pulsing clit. it makes you grip onto his roots tighter, grinding down onto his face slightly as you moan his name again like a prayer. he swears he could cum in his pants right now, without you even touching him.

“you’re so fucking sexy.” he purrs against your cunt, the vibrations sending another tiny jolt through your body.

you can feel how hot your face is, how tense your stomach has become, and you can’t bring yourself to find any words. that is, until his fingers glide across your clit, rubbing over it lightly as you throw your head back against the mattress.

“holy shi—oh!” your voice catches in your throat midway through your sentence as he suddenly slips a finger inside.

a lewd noise escapes your throat once he does so, and he begins to pump it slowly. you’re finding it nearly impossible to keep your hips planted on the mattress, so he guides your leg over his shoulder and digs his nails into your skin to keep you still.

you rock your pelvis forward, connecting with his hand harder now as you chase the sensation, listening to the wet sounds of him gliding in and out of your cunt. chris adds another one of his slender fingers inside of you, and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to contain some of the desperate noises you’re making.

his own cock is pulsing as he continues, admiring the way your tits jiggle as he picks up his pace, the way your hair is slightly matted while your mascara collects under your eyes. he knows you want more just based on the way you’re bucking to meet his fingers, but he wants to hear you say it.

“is there something you’d like, sweetheart?” he asks, pressing another open kiss to your overstimulated clit.

you look down at him, meeting those pretty blue eyes as he awaits an answer, and you feel yourself shiver in both anticipation and from the current excitement.

“more, chris. i—need you.” you finally manage to get it out, voice pinched as you speak.

“what do you need, huh? you gotta tell me, use those words.” he demands further, and even though his taunting makes you shy, you realize you’ll have to answer if you want him to continue.

“need you inside me, baby.” you plead breathlessly, and he lets out an involuntary groan at the use of the pet name.

he didn’t expect you to play into the dirty talk, and at this point his erection is begging to be set free, to have you wrapped around him. so chris slows his fingers to a stop, leaving you feeling empty as he removes them.

a pout takes over your features as he stands up, placing his fingers in his mouth so he can suck your wetness off of them. it’s ridiculously racy, and it leaves you clenching around nothing as you wait for his next move.

“wanna be buried in this pretty pussy so bad.” chris growls, reaching to yank his wife beater over his head.

his chain bounces against his collarbones as he throws it away half-hazardly, tugging his boxers and sweatpants down to his ankles a second later. your eyes widen slightly as his dick springs free, slapping against his stomach as he steps out of his clothes.

precum dribbles out of the tip, which is angry and red from desire. you’re completely in a trance, staring as he takes himself into his own hand, pumping a few times so he can spread the slick around.

he notices the way you’re studying him in amazement, one corner of his mouth turning upward. ��d’you want to give it a try, princess?”

your heart leaps into your throat, and even though you’re scared, you really want to learn how to make him feel good too. so you nod silently, extending your hand toward his cock, hesitating once you’re close enough.

“spit in your palm, wrap your fingers around it and then stroke, just like i was.” he instructs, so you suck in a breath and do as you’re told.

your newly-wetted hand closes around the bottom of his shaft, and he hisses out a curse as you start working up and down, squeezing the sensitive skin timidly. your thumb runs over his slit and he lets out a low moan, fucking himself into your fist.

“a-ah shit, just like that.”

you adore the admiration, unable to contain your smile as you apply some more pressure. his head is tilted back to the ceiling, eyes screwed shut as he enjoys the brief handjob. but chris can already feel the orgasm building, so he stills your movements by placing his fingers over your own.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “was it bad?”

he shakes his head immediately before he settles back down on top of you, bracing himself on his forearms as he leans in for a kiss. the taste of your arousal still lingers on his lips, which you surprisingly enjoy way more than expected.

“no, if anything it was too good. i would’ve finished from that alone.” chris admits against your mouth, which makes you feel insanely content.

“can’t have that, can we? not when i need you to fill me up.” you reply in a sultry tone, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that the comment made him blush.

“jesus, you can’t say shit like that to me.” he grumbles, moving to run his tongue along your jaw as his hand wraps around your throat.

chris squeezes the sides of your windpipe lightly, rutting his hips upward so that his dick slides against your drenched folds. the warmth from your center immediately causes his breathing to become labored, and you whimper as you feel his tip nudge your swollen clit.

“are you ready?” he pants into your ear, and you mumble a few pathetic words of confirmation to spur him on.

with that, chris uses the hand that was previously on your throat to line himself up at your entrance, looking up to catch your eye again. he pauses for a moment, so you give him a nod of encouragement.

“tell me if it gets too uncomfortable.” he says, intertwining his free fingers with yours so you have something to hold on to.

then he slowly starts to push himself inside, beginning with just the tip as your eyes screw shut. the stretch is painful at first, like you’re being split wide open by the sheer size of him, so you focus on your breathing as your grip on his hand tightens.

inch by inch he fills you up, until finally his full length is being gripped by your plush walls. you wince at the agonizing pressure, your nails digging into his back as he waits for you to adjust. you’re already clenching around him involuntarily, and he lets out a long groan.

“you alright, baby?” chris questions a beat later, concern laced in his voice.

“yeah, i think so.” you reply quietly.

“keep breathing, i’ll take it slow.” he promises, trying to comfort you as best he can.

you just nod, still latched onto his shoulder while his thumb strokes the back of your hand. his other palm clutches your hip, steadying himself as he begins to move in and out. you choke on your breath, doing everything you can to ignore the overwhelming ache.

it’s a feeling unlike any other, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to keep from crying out. slowly but surely he picks up his rhythm, rocking into you sensually as you finally begin to transition into the pleasurable part of the experience.

a moan falls from your lips, muffled slightly by his skin. it surprises the both of you, and it makes chris flush, completely aroused by the fact that he’s the first guy to ever make you feel this way.

“doing so well, taking it all for me.” he says in a whiny tone, shifting to give you a kiss as he marvels at how tight you’re squeezing him.

the pressure in your stomach from earlier comes back, building as chris begins to snap his hips a bit quicker. gasps escape your throat on loop every time he plunges back into your cunt, and he grunts from the feeling of you enveloping his dick.

“oh my god.” you whimper pathetically, positioning your hand on the back of his neck so you can pull yourself in to meet his strokes.

he loves that you’re taking more control, that you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself. he can feel himself growing closer to the edge, and it doesn’t help that you’re now clenching around him every time he bottoms out.

but he holds on, letting go of your hand so he can bring it between your bodies, brushing two fingers over your clit. you practically convulse in surprise, your pornographic moans filling the room as he rubs tiny circles against the sore bud.

“shit, chris!” you cry, and you can feel the band in your stomach getting ready to snap.

“let ‘em know, princess, tell ‘em who makes you feel this good.” he slides his fingers against you quicker, plunging so deep now that he’s tapping your cervix with every pump.

“i’m—” you don’t even have time to finish your sentence before your abs tense up, legs uncontrollably shaking now.

you lean into the wave, letting it wash over you as you find your release. chris is close behind, shuddering as his thrusts grow needy and sloppy. then you feel him twitch, his hot cum mixing with your own as it pours out from his slit. he eventually stills a few seconds later, both of your chests heaving as he slowly slides out of you for good.

he rolls to his back, slumping beside you so that both of your arms are pressed together as you each regain your breath.

you’re scared to speak first, terrified really, so when you hear chris clear his throat you’re thankful that he’s breaking the silence.

“that was…you’re so…fuck, you’re just perfect.” chris fumbles with his words, and you glance over at him with a small grin.

“i’m really glad it was you, chris. thank you.” you press a sweet kiss to his cheek, and this time you’re positive he’s blushing.

“i’m glad it was me too.” he confesses as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling your back to his chest.

it’s a comfortable feeling, being held by him, and it’s one that you want to enjoy forever.

“to think, we could’ve been doing that this whole time.” you rag on him a little, unable to remain completely serious.

he buries his chin in your neck, breath tickling your ear as he responds. “good thing we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

[kerryshifting]

i read your pinned post and why do you want to live forever? like be immortal

we think we have many desires .. but in fact we have only one. to live, forever.

IT’S IMMORTALITY … MY DARLINGS.

why is such thing as immortality, who was always represented in media as a curse who will break your soul into pieces century after century, a thing that shifters like me decide to engage in? this is my personal experience. so. it's very personal. may have sensitive topics.

you know when you are a young child and you find out that the sun will die in some billion years? i spend the whole day sobbing when my older cousin told me. i was four, and that was my first introduction to death. since that day i discovered that everything seemed to lead there: no matter what you do in life, how old or young you are, if you deserve it or not. i was always told that i have one life, and my non–religious family said that there's nothing after. that's it. no other opportunities.

since then i had a very love and hate relationship with death. hated when it took something from me, loved in the hope that would take me. everytime my life started to get dark, it was my first thought. listening to born to die by lana del rey on repeat became part of my routine.

and then. boom. THE canon event. shifting.

i fell on my knees. i was desperate. i wanted other chances. i wanted other lives. my higher self thought it was a good idea to give me this knowledge. i was fourteen, my mom was my enemy, lana del rey my saviour, and all of my friendships were girls, so confusing by charli xcx before girls, so confusing (fourteen years old me would have eat that up). so, i decided to believe it immediately. no questions asked. but, of course, i was a teenage girl. shit happens. and the italian school system it's worse than an asylum. and then shit actually happened!!! the type of things that makes you laugh hysterically before sobbing on the carpet. i was sixteen and suddenly i didn't want other lives, and neither the one i had. i totally forgot about shifting… and then i reached the rock bottom. like. really bad. it was a continue cycle of sadness and apathy and then, almost two years later, anger. ooooooooooh boy i was mad.

i never understood the people around me calling me rebellious – like. girl. where? until i discovered shifting again. septermber 2024. what a time to be alive! but first: that summer really did something to me. going in my home country, connecting with the place where my ancestors walked, breathed and lived really was a slap in the face. that summer i actually picked up a book after years of caring about nothing, and i was still the curious child that would go in historical websites to research about things. watched documentary after documentary. i read poetry. scientific shits that i never actually understood. politics. an hatred for all the people who said to me that "you only have one life" hit me so hard. i was furious because i spent years of my 'only' life sobbing in my bed. SEPTEMBER 2024. shifting!!!!!! fuck!!!!!!!!!! i totally forgot about that!!!!!!!!!! instead of tiktok i used tumblr, and i got slapped in the face numerous times again. it's so different from what i thought. better. amazing. the answer to my questions.

so, all this to say what? immortality. basically: rebellion. revenge. out of spite. my last and long lasting sarcastic laugh. i want culture. now i care about things around me. i care about myself. i care about my soul, all the possible versions of me. the world. other people. i want to be young and old again. and again. i healed. i am not mad, i am excited. i have a journey. emotions that i can't wait to experience. a big middle finger to death who consumed my first eighteen years of life. this feels very dramatic but hey!!! i watch too many movies so that's probably why.

[jewishbarbies]

I am not Jewish, but one of the worst things coming out of the conflict is just… seeing how many people I liked and admired — whether it’s people on tumblr/twitter I’ve followed for years, celebrities I liked, influencers I followed, creators I was a fan of etc — don’t give a literal single fuck about Jewish people. Seeing how quickly, how easily and how happily everybody was to turn on Jewish people as a whole.

Seeing how posts on here, or on twitter, about how Jews and Israelis are evil terrible disgusting terrorists get thousands and thousands of notes and support, yet posts by Jews disproving propaganda or sharing their causes get NOTHING. There is no support. There is no care. There is no love, no empathy, no respect.

I am not even Jewish. But it terrifies me so deeply just how easy it was for hamas to take control of the narrative and spin it to their favor, and how EASY it was for the rest of the world to fall in line. I’ve been screaming for years about antisemitism, how it’s on the rise and how that frightens me. No one wanted to listen. No one is gonna listen now. If I feel this way, as a non-Jew, I truly cannot imagine how Jewish folks are feeling. My heart and my support is with you always. I wish there was more I could do.

I had a lot to add to this but accidentally deleted it. but I’m grateful to anyone standing up for us despite the vitriol and hatred. it’s felt like an eternity and a single day all at once since oct 7th and it seems it’s only going to get worse. these people won’t stop until we reach a second holocaust-level event, and then they will question later how it got this bad and never consider their own actions. years later, we’ll have it in history books and they won’t recognize their own faces. only when they’re harmed they cry. only someone on their list of acceptable minorities is worth the effort. we will continue to outlive them and do more good for the world than they could ever imagine, and it will be despite them. we will thrive without them and they won’t be able to stop us.

[livwritesstuff]

boston pride is today so here have an edited repost from when i walked in the parade last year

Steve is getting boring in his old age (forty-four, almost).

It was inevitable, he supposes when he looks back, and he likes being boring. 

He likes the steady routine of the life he and Eddie (married for seven years, now) have built with their three daughters (four, seven, and nearly ten, a notion Steve is choosing to ignore because there’s no goddamn way Moe nearly has an entire decade under her belt already), and he doesn’t find himself making attempts to mix things up all that often.

Naturally, Eddie is the one to suggest they make the trip into Boston with their daughters for the annual Pride parade, and when he does, Steve isn’t automatically inclined to agree.

Look – Steve knows it’s important for kids to see the world and do new things and all that enriching shit, but maybe he still bears some of the scars from keeping a semi-feral pack of teenagers alive amidst the eldritch hellscape of their hometown, and it’s not like they don’t keep themselves entertained at home – Hazel had finally got the gist of Go-Fish not too long ago and that’s been a whole new ballgame Steve is perfectly content to continue exploring.

In the end, however, the logical side of him (and Eddie’s ever-persistent badgering) wins out, and come mid-June of 2011, they all make the drive into Boston to see the parade.

It doesn’t take Steve long at all to acknowledge that it was a good idea. He hadn’t been to Pride in many years (again – he’s boring in his old age), and he’d forgotten how much fun it is – a true celebration of love and happiness in the face of a lot of fucked up shit and all that. The parade’s pretty good too (definitely a few floats he hopes the girls are too distracted chasing after candy to notice and ask questions about later, but only time will tell), and so is the festival afterwards. It ends up being a really great time for all of them.

Of the whole day, though, Steve’s favorite part is the trip home, a drive that should have only been thirty minutes, but turns into nearly two hours with all the traffic on I-90.

The girls are still riding the sugar rush of an afternoon’s worth of lemonade and fried dough and candy thrown from parade floats (Hazel might be succumbing though, if Steve’s quick glances in the rear-view mirror at the way her eyes are drooping closed are anything to go off of), and it seems as if the day’s contagious joy had followed them into the car. Robbie and Moe have been asking a lot of questions – mostly chatter about what floats were everyone’s favorites and who got the best face paint until Moe, perceptive as she’s always been, hits them with, “What’s Pride for?”

Which turns into, “Why do people think it’s a bad thing?” and that becomes, “So how did you and Papa fall in love?” at which point Eddie, who’d been fielding their daughters' questions so Steve could keep his focus on the stop-and-go highway traffic, launches into a dramatic and involved retelling of how their relationship had begun nearly eighteen years ago.

“So I told him that I liked him and what do you think Papa said?” Eddie eventually asks as he approaches the end of the story.

“What?” the girls ask with eager smiles and wide eyes.

“Nothing,” Eddie says ruthlessly, a wicked grin on his face.

“Alright,” Steve cuts in over the laughter coming from the backseat, “Let’s not be dramatic. I said something...eventually, and it wasn’t even that long later – four hours tops.”

“That’s right,” Eddie concedes, “And then we all lived happily ever after and all that jazz.”

“Good,” Robbie says, “’Cos if you hadn’t, today wouldn’t happen.”

“Hate to break it to you, sweet pea,” Steve replies, “but I’m pretty sure Pride would still happen even if Dad and I weren’t there for it.”

“We wouldn’t be here," Moe corrects him, "All together.”

Steve blinks.

Jesus Christ, these kids are gonna be the death of him. Can’t drive the damn car if his eyes are misting over, can he?

“Yeah,” Eddie says as he reaches over to curve his hand around the back of Steve’s neck, “Yeah, bug, that’s true.”

And thanks goodness for that.

[archives-of-a-hidden-writer]

Surprise

Gi-hun & In-ho X FormerVIP!Reader

》Typing... |

》 [Entry No.007 - Surprise]|

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》 Summary: After the 33rd Squid Game, you haven't had a single thrill and enthusiasm run through you after. That is until a years later, you got a little message where they're recruiting people for a new Squid game. And being the curious person you are, you wondered if its more fun being IN the game than watching it. |

》 Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE SERIES, Large Change of Story, reader is player '455', enemies to something else type trope(on Gi-hun), reader purposely teasing Gi-hun, reader is basically In-ho but much more outer with their chaos, In-ho knows how you look-like under the mask and vice-versa. |

》 Archive Entry Loaded ◇

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

You sighed, taking in the large room that is the dormitory to where you woke up to. You were half expecting this place to be the same. It's been a while, after all. 'Little change, not going to lie,' you thought to yourself as you've taken notice the designs on the walls of the dormitory, different from the one you noticed when you were a VIP.

As everyone awoke and started gathering in the middle just as the same old pink guards appeared in front, they welcomed everyone for what's about to happen.

■■■

'There he is...' you thought to yourself as you, along with the rest of the players, lined up to take pictures for their profile, and among those players was Player 456, the former player and winner of the previous Squid Games. It also seemed he had plans for this Squid Game.

As the screen took a picture of you, you then followed the rest through the maze of stairs towards the 1st game round.

Meanwhile, as your profile appeared on the screen floor in the management room, someone noticed it. More so, the Frontman did. How couldn't he? Both of you showed your faces to each other during the Squid Game show the Frontman had done for the 33rd Squid Games. Despite the both of you knowing that it is against the rules to remove our given masks, we both still did. Why? Neither of you knew, but remember the soft feeling between the two of you as you two separated from the other VIPs as they took breaks and lounged in the VIP room.

From then on, the Frontman failed to forget about you, secretly hoping there's a chance or a way for you to reunite with him again. Yet it was as if the Gods heard him and fulfilled his wish, but in the most fucked up way possible as he stared down on your number tile, smiling so brightly yet chaotically as the camera took the picture.

Cursing under his breath, many thoughts and questions ran through his mind as to why and how you manage to get yourself into this mess into these games.

As he continued to stare, the square manager wearing all black looked at him as he continued to do so.

"Someone familiar, Sir?" the manager asked, earning a shook of the Frontman's head, but deep down, he does. Not familiar, but someone he couldn't get out of his head.

■■■

"1st Game, red light, green light," the announcer above spoke as the doll started to move, rotating its upper body around and moving its arm up as if covering it.

The players around you murmured around you as they questioned the game, a kid's game, in fact. All you can do is stare in awe but also smirk at the people around you. They're up for a hell ride for the first game.

As this goes on, the Frontman tensed ever so often in his little theatre room as the cameras showed everyone, but his eyes remained on your back, your number flashing at him as if mocking him, that thanks to him, you found your way back but under the worst way possible.

For now, all he can do is watch, watch, and hope that you'll survive this 1st round.

That was when player 456 ran in front and screamed to listen to him, and of course, unlike the players who are new to this, you listened. Why wouldn't you? He played this before, but something tells you that this is the only game that will be similar to the previous Squid game.

As the man shouted for everyone to freeze when the doll turned, everyone ignored him as if he was going crazy. As you approach past him, you whispered to him, "It's hopeless to be a hero here," you whispered, making his eyes widen, yet he couldn't do anything, can't he? The doll turned again, and you cheekily hopped across the field before the doll turned its head once more. You were about to do something devilish until you heard a woman scream before getting shot seconds after. It was followed by another scream of a woman and a lot more people as they get shot due to moving while the doll is still looking. While this all happened, all you can do is silently giggled It looks like you didn't have to do all the work after all.

As the doll turned its head again, you went for it. You noticed how everyone lined up to prevent themselves from getting detected, and of course, you were on the edge of one of the lines.

Just as the man screamed again as everyone lined up, you smiled and pushed the people in front of you, roughly getting at least 6 of them as they all looked back in shock and betrayal before getting ultimately shot, blood splattering not only on the ground but a few on you as well.

As the doll turned its head back again, you continued moving without care, occasionally tripping a few players here and there. Some got shot because of it, and some survived. Meanwhile, back at In-ho, he didn't know whether or not should he be concerned or grateful for you as on one hand, who were jeopardizing Gi-hun's plan, but on the other hand, you were playing with life and death with your theatrics. Yet, all he can do is watch, for now.

■■■

A soft giggle escaped you as you sat back in one of the bunk beds. Although there were a few nasty glares coming your way due to the fact that you basically brought death to some of the players you pursued towards player 456.

"Player 456, is it?" You asked, and of course, you were returned with a glare from the player. You only smiled to this before extending your hand out to him. You told him your name, and you asked for his, "May I know your name?" you asked him. He seemed hesitant at first, the memory of my words and my doings during the first game still fresh in his memory. Yet, you sadly didn't get his name as you and the other's attention was brought by the pink guards who entered the dormitory, ultimately causing everyone to started bowing and apologizing to them due to a misunderstanding of the games.

"There must be a misunderstanding," the pink guard standing in the middle spoke before explaining the game's rules once more, meanwhile, you leaned over one of the bunk's pole just as player 456 slowly approached the middle, speaking how it was said in the rules that everyone can choose a vote whether or not they could leave after each round, to which, the pink guard confirmed his words. And so, the voting began.

The pink guard explained how the voting system works, 'x' for those who wish to leave the game and 'o' for those who wishes to continue, whichever side wins would decipher the next course of action.

It then started, with player 456 starting the voting. Sure enough, he voted 'x', the pink guard handed him his patch before he walked away to the side of 'x'. You then followed, being the player number lower than him by a point, and of course, you voted 'o'. You took your patch and patted it to your jacket before walking away, not while sending Gi-hun a wink with a cheeky smile. He returned the gesture with another harsh glare. Oh, this will be a fun round of games.

As the voting came to its close end, the voting came to a tie, making the last remaining player decipher the next move. To continue or to leave. With a press of a button, 'o' had the winning vote, earning cheerful scream from those who chose 'o', including yourself.

While you cheered with the rest of the 'o' voters, someone watches you as they approach the same group, In-ho. On the contrary, he was in a battle of himself as he chose whether to continue or not, but he must continue the games. Yet, what about you? It was clear you wanted to continue as well, but would you even survive? Yet all those thoughts quieted out as he heard your voice amidst the screams of both teams, cheering and jumping as you chant 'o' over and over again. So you wanted to play, then let's play.

■■■

"Excuse me," a familiar voice came to you as you lay there on one of the bunk beds, you looked to see the all too familiar man you saw all those years ago, "In-" you got up, about to say his real name before he stopped you. Covering your mouth with his hand, he hushed you, "Young-il, call me Young-il for now..." he spoke in a shushed voice. You nodded before he moved his hand away from your mouth.

There was a small silence that came after the short conversation until you spoke, "So? After that, 456 as well?" You teased, leaning forward towards In-ho. A part of you hoped he still had that same feeling the two of you had during the last Squid Game as you leaned close to him, "His name is Gi-hun, but yes," In-ho replied, earning a nod and hum from you as he casually said the truth.

Just then, he held you by your wrist and pulled you back in, "But what the hell are you doing here?" In-ho asked. There was a glint of worry clouded by irritation and annoyance behind his eyes as you shrugged and giggled at him, "Cause I want to see you again? I also want to know what it's like to see the games in the players' perspective, and it looked like you do too?" you asked him, lightly tapping the '001' patch on his jacket. He onlu grumbled and let go of you. You know, I looked back at that player 456, and a little idea came into my mind.

■■■

"Help us, Sir... I pressed the 'o' because of you," In-ho said, making the impression of desperation in money and fear, "You made me think I could maybe play just one more game," he continued, earning agreements and 'same's from the rest of the people with us. It kind of sucked considering how you acted when you voted 'o' earlier, and so, you just looked away, head down as if you regretted your decisions.

You could feel Gi-hun's gaze at you before looking away as In-ho spoke, averting his attention, "Sir, you know which game's next, don't you?" he asked, earning a 'That's right' from Gi-hun, "You're a previous winner, that meant you should know, correct?" you asked him, finally looking back at him whilst trying to look as desperate as possible.

Gi-hun just looked at you before looking back down, "The second game... Was Dalgona," Gi-hun said. You looked back at In-ho as he looked like he had something up his sleeves. Something told you that things had changed completely.

"Dalgona?" You asked, "The one where you could carve shapes out of?" you added, earning another agree from Gi-hun. Gi-hun then continued to explain the second game's premise as you fought the urge to hold a smirk, knowing In-ho, he wouldn't repeat the same games again. The doll was just a hoax for Gi-hun to fall to.

Meanwhile, as everyone thought of strategies and thoughts for the second game, Gi-hun's eyes slowly went to you. Sure, you were something of a chaotic little thing, but somehow, you were different, like something about you pulling him. Little was he aware, In-ho felt the same thing towards you, but unlike the two men, you are well aware of the effects you could have, and you were well aware that sooner or later, both men would be falling in love with you

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

》 Archiver's Notes: In all honesty, I didn't know what to do as plot for these two, then I remembered the VIPs of season 1(with the addition of the theory that one of the S2 players were actually one of the VIPs just because they share the same actor), so why not use that as the backstory of the plot. Also, I may avert from the Squid Game for now. Keyword, maybe.

[oh-phoenixx]

"Cauldron" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 706 words

-

“You need help with what?” Regulus sighed.

“The Draught of Living Death,” James repeated, an almost hopeful look in his eye which Regulus didn’t understand.

“Why do you need to make the Draught of Living Death? We do those in sixth year,” Regulus questioned, narrowing his eyes. “You’re a Seventh-Year.”

“Oh, er, yeah…It’s for, um…” James trailed off. Regulus gave him until the count of three to think of something, and when he didn’t, Regulus sighed once more.

“Yeah, I’ll help.” James’s face lit up at this, and Regulus rolled his eyes.

This is how, about a week later, Regulus ended up spending an evening with James in the Potions classroom. James was even more clueless than Regulus had anticipated, and he spent most of the few hours they were there simply covering the cauldron with his hand to stop James from putting the wrong ingredients in. 

The sixth-years, Regulus’s class, had made this potion only a few weeks prior, and so Regulus had it quite fresh in his memory. He only had to skim through the instructions a couple of times, and the rest was like muscle memory.

Regulus was just about to give James his next instruction when he noticed that it was already done. He looked suspiciously between the cauldron and James. “James?”

“Yeah, Reggie?” James grinned.

“Did you just add the Powdered Root of Asphodel?”

“Yeah, why?” James’s eyebrows furrowed.

“You have continuously failed to follow the instructions I give you, and yet you knew to add that without me having to tell you?” Regulus asked, tilting his head. 

James stammered out an answer that was something like ‘I made this last year and I remembered that part’, though this made no sense, as he had nearly messed up the entire potion so many times that Regulus was concerned for both their safeties.

Regulus knew James was lying about something, but he had been meaning to remake this potion anyway. His last version, while the second best in the class (the first best being Barty’s, as always), he did not feel entirely happy with. He knew he had made some mistakes here and there that Slughorn didn’t point out. So, even though James was clearly not being honest with Regulus, he didn’t stop ‘helping’ him with the potion.

Once the potion was finished, James smiled at Regulus, putting a hand on Regulus’s shoulder which Regulus glared at. James was undeterred, and moved his hand to ruffle Regulus’s hair instead. Regulus slapped his hand away and started to clean up. 

“Why did you ask me to help you make the potion when you already know how to make it?” Regulus asked, barely looking up from what he was doing. While he was glad to have another chance to make the Draught of Living Death, he did not enjoy being messed with. 

“Whaaaat?” James asked, pretending very poorly to be confused. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Reggie…”

“Twice you followed steps that I didn’t read you, while the rest of the time you messed up the simplest of instructions that I did give you.” Regulus was becoming increasingly frustrated, just wanting a simple explanation from James as to why he was intentionally wasting both their time.

“I just…thought it would be an easy way to get you to hang out with me,” James mumbled, scratching his neck unsurely.

Regulus gaped at this, both confused and flustered. Regulus was not one to get flustered or to feel ‘butterflies in his stomach’. So what the fuck was this? He turned away so that James wouldn’t see the blush creeping up onto his face. “Why?”

Very quickly, James muttered, “IsortoffancyyoubutIdidn’tknowhowtosayit.”

If Regulus wasn’t blushing before, he most definitely was now. He turned back to James, too shocked to be embarrassed. “You- You like me?”

James nodded, looking around the room nervously. Regulus shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. He refused to say it back. He was too good for this type of thing, foolish crushes and blushing and dancing around feelings. And if, when James finally did ask him out on an actual date, he couldn’t stop himself from saying yes. Well…that would be no one’s business but his own.

[tigerqueen767]

Helluva Boss Season Finale

So a homophobic client shows up and tells IMP to kill her husband for leaving her for a man and cheating (possibly.) IMP attempt to try and kill him but then Blizto can't do it cause of his feefees and cause he sees himself in that man. Forget that Blizto has killed many people for petty reasons before (Spring Broken is a good example, he literally killed tons of random people, many of which were probably gay, just because of a bet) and forget that he chastised Moxxie for doing the exact same thing (weird how Mox didn't bring that up honestly) NO, you can't criticize this gay man because he's so cute and gay. That's the message Viv is sending.

The moral of this episode is that if you criticize Stolas and Blizto's relationship, you're homophobic. Wowww... Just wow!

It couldn't possibly be because these two have absolutely no chemistry and only know eachother because of sex. It couldn't possibly be because Stolas made a creepy and predatory deal with Blizto. It couldn't possibly be because Stolas is a terrible person who lied to his daughter and is written terribly. Forget that Stolas risked his life for his fuck buddy when he should have stayed with his daughter. Forget that Blizto never wanted a serious relationship until now just because that's what the writers want. Forget everything I said and just sit back and watch Blizto and Stolas dance on the balcony since it's the only thing Viv cares about.

Stolizt is the only thing Viv cares about. That's what this episode proves once and for all. Their relationship is the only thing that had any meaningful continuity in season 1. Everything else was episodic material.

Maybe in Season 3 we'll focus on other things but it won't make up for the trainwreck of a Season this was.

Now, because I don't just want to be negative, let me talk about how this Season could have been 1000 times better. Let me offer a fix.

This Season would have been great if it split it's screen time 70-30 between the IMP stuff and the Stolas stuff. Let every member of IMP shine in their own episode. It's not like there isn't enough time. Explore Millie's prejudice against Hellhounds (cause we all know she doesn't respect Hellhounds.) Explore Millie's wrath and how it might help and hinder her. It might lead to devastating consequences depending on who she chooses to fight and why. Shoot first and ask questions later is not a good principle and I feel like that's exactly what she does. Have Loona and Via actually hang out! Show us how her timidness and introversion make that relationship start off rocky. Show us how she changes from a person who can barely hold a conversation in the Queen Bee episode to a person that would have a bunch of friends over for Sinsmas. That development WAS. NOT. THERE!!

Have Moxxie actually confront his fears. It looked like he was about to fight his dad but then he got tazed and his wife did all the work. Why? Have him stand up to Blizto finally and make Blizto respect him. Cause Blizto does not respect him. Look at the way he talks to him in Season 2 and tell me this is respectful. Plus, in the episode Truth Seekers he only congratulated Moxxie for killing well. That's it. He respects the work he does but not who he is as a person. That could have been explored in Season 2. That would have been a great arc.

As for Blizto show more of his relationship between him and his sister. Blizto brought Barbie up again in the finale and it sounds like they really want us to care about her character but she wasn't even in the flashback episode. In order to fix the flashback episode, get rid of Stolas! Don't make a flashback that includes Stolas at all. Just make it about life in the circus performing with Blizto, Barbie and Fizz.

And instead of a giant special episode about Fizz and his terrible boss how about an episode dedicated to Stolas and Via's relationship. Why not write a song about how they've lived their lives over the years. Show us what it was like to BE her.

I'm getting tired of writing now. I hope you enjoyed reading this, at least a little.

[dewitty1]

Fic Recs Wrap Up November 2024 ✩°｡⋆(ノﾟ∀ﾟ)ノ⌒･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

After the Rain Falls by shinigami714 @shinigami714

After the events of the war, all Harry wants to do is forget. For everything to return to normal. But things never were normal for him, and the war left many marks on him not so easily forgotten. When he receives a surprising offer to return to Hogwarts in a continuing education program, Harry jumps at the chance, and despite his best efforts to deal with his problems alone, discovers along the way that quite often, two minds are greater than one. Rec Post

we have heard on high by oflights @oflights

Reeling from the fallout of a bad breakup, Harry decides to find out who his soulmate is. The bad news: it’s Draco Malfoy. The good news: Malfoy doesn’t seem to know they’re soulmates. The worst news: Harry might be falling for him anyway. Rec Post

Nothing Gold Can Stay by Moonflower_Rose @moonflower-rose

One summer evening, Harry Potter vanished in the middle of dinner with his friends. Four days later he came back. Sort of. Draco Malfoy is on the case. Rec Post

The Unplottable Time Conundrum by Writcraft @writcraft

When the past starts bleeding into the present at Grimmauld Place, an old academic article pulls Draco Malfoy out of his life of luxury. Haunted by the memory of a fleeting post-war kiss and thrust into the ghostly spaces inhabited by Unspeakable Harry Potter, Draco’s easy life is about to get a whole lot more complicated. Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well!(੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆

Come As You Are written by  its_the_allure @its-the-allure, art by ItsPhantasmagoria @itsphantasmagoria

When Harry Potter visits a sexy internet chatroom site, he does so with the hope of answering a niggling question: Am I interested in men? He finds more than he anticipated when he stumbles upon a free strip show starring a very familiar person. Just what is Draco Malfoy doing on a Muggle pay-per-view site? And when did he get so fucking fit? Rec Post

You're on Your Own, Kid by bluefay @thesleepiesthufflepuff

In August of 1998, Draco leaves behind everything he’s ever known. With the help of two middle-aged lesbians, a Muggle bookshop, and a new best friend, Draco’s future is finally looking up. That is, until Harry Potter wanders back into his life a year later, undoing everything Draco has worked towards. Or, a tale about healing, forgiveness, and living for no one but yourself.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading! xoxo Carey  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

[milflewis]

ok but mob au

1.

“You really didn’t know who I work for?”

When Yuki found out that Pierre’s boss is the Sebastian Vettel, the Lion of Singapore, and the unofficial heir to Schumacher & Co., he had only raised his eyebrows. Pierre took that to mean he had already figured it out.

Yuki blinks at him. “No.”

“But.” Pierre frowns. “Why did you — I always have so many knives on me! Is this not weird to you?” He gestures at his jacket which hangs open, showing four different perfectly sharpened blades tucked into the lining.

Yuki shrugs. “You are French, yes? You like to cut things. Like cheese.”

Pierre mouths wordlessly. Cheese.

“Anyway,” Yuki adds. “You are weird, so. This would not be weird.”

2.

The first time Sebastian meets Lewis, his runners are wet with Michael’s blood and Lewis’s hands are pressing his head into the glass door. His face aches, nose throbbing.

“Can I help you?” he says, or tries to say. It comes out vaguely smushed.

He pushes back a little just to see. Lewis lets him move half an inch before shoving him back.

“Jesus, Hamilton,” Sebastian hears Michael say. His voice cracks roughly. Sebastian nearly cried when the doctor told him Michael survived the surgery, that they got all the bullets out and he was in recovery. He swallows thickly, as the relief makes him all dizzy even now. “I know you got out today but c’mon, let him go. This is Sebastian — I talked about him.”

The hands on Sebastian’s neck disappear and he’s rubbing at his jaw when he turns around. “Ow,” Seabastian tells Michael. His cheeks are pale and his chest is wrapped in white bandages but his eyes are alert and he is grinning.

“Sebastian, this is Lewis Hamilton. Lewis, Sebastian Vettel. Mika says we are all friends here.”

He pats Mika’s ankle that is propped up on the bed beside his hip. Mika’s eyes stay closed, arms folded in his chair, chin on his chest. There are dark bruises under his eyes under now.

“Right. If Mika says so.”

Lewis steps back towards Michael’s bed, grabbing the duffle bag from where it was leaning against the wall. Sebastian looks at his bare arms, the tattoos that go all the way down to his fingers, the rings there. His jeans sit low on his hips. He needs a shave. Sebastian recognises him from his mugshot, even of his hair is longer now and his face is more lined.

They hadn’t had the time to arrange for Michael to share a cell with someone affiliated with them, and when they had got in contact with him, a week later, he had settled in well enough with his cell mate. By Michael standards at least.

Does not talk much, Michael had told Sebastian over the phone. Likes his fucking singing though. Stares at the picture of his dog. Do you think he is lonely?

When Sebastian had brought it up with Mika, the best person for this kind of thing when Corinna is away, Mika had only shrugged, and told him that he doesn’t think it is just Hamilton that is lonely, and that of fucking course anyone who could survive nine weeks in solitary with just Fernando Alonso as company in the next cell over is someone that Michael would find interesting.

Sebastian looks away from the breadth of Lewis’s shoulders in his white tank and pulls a face at Michael’s waggling eyebrows.

3.

“How old do you think I am?” Jenson asks, as Alex adjusts his long-rifle until it sits comfortably against his shoulder, supported by the flat roof they are lying on. 

Alex doesn’t answer, because he knows exactly how old Jenson is, and the fact that people continue to tell Jenson to his face that he looks ten years older than his actual age will never stop being funny.

“Ollie, how old do you think I am?” Jenson calls.

“Jen, leave the kid alone,” Alex says. “You could dye your hair.”

“Do I look like a man who would dye his hair solely to stave off questions about his age?”

“Yes,” Alex sweeps the street below them, marking the buildings bracketing the shop they are surveilling. “Ollie, how are you doing over there?”

He can hear him scramble around for a second before a burst of static. “Radio ready for orders, sir.”

Alex grimaces, still not used to that, as Jenson only laughs beside him.

4.

“Michael? We got him.” Eddie leans back against the closed door.

Michael hums, closing his leather notebook. He leaves his fountain pen tucked into the middle so he remembers what month of intakes he was going over.

“Send him in.”

The kid’s hair is long and dirty, falling into his eyes and around his ears. His knees are all busted up under his baggy shorts. His face is drawn and thin, and he is glaring at Michael, jaw clenched.

He goes all pale when he sees who sits in front of him. Seems like he didn’t know whose car it was.

“Jesus,” Michael says. “You’re tiny, how did you reach the pedals?”

This morning, the kid — Sebastian Vettel, Michael had asked around — had hot wired Michael’s car in under two minutes and driven away. Michael had watched from the restaurant’s window, amused and impressed.

Mika had been decidedly less so when Michael told him, ten minutes later, that they were going to have to order a cab.

“I’m not that short!” The glare intensifies. His eyes are kind of freaky, Michael thinks. Very big and bright.

Michael holds out a hand, level with his chest, and squints. He lowers it considerably. Sebastian looks like he wants to bite it.

“Of course not,” Michael tells him soothingly. Eddie gives him a reproachful look. Michael holds back his eyeroll but takes his hand out of reach of Sebastian’s mouth.

“I have a job for you,” Michael says, watching Sebastian’s eyes sharpen. He smiles thinly. “If you’re up for it.”

“A job. For me? What kind of job?” Sebastian tilts his head to the side, making his eyes wide. His curls tumble across his forehead. The whole effect is rather sweet, Michael considers, delighted. This will be interesting.

Mika has been nagging at Michael to stop picking up strays but he thinks he will agree with Michael on this one.

5.

Michael stretches out his back, legs interlocked at the ankles, until something clicks along his spine. He exhales slowly, sinking back into the shitty mattress.

They called for lights out fifteen minutes ago. Lewis is still in the bunk above him. Michael looks at the scratches across the metal rods. He had a good workout today, no interruptions, and his arms are nicely sore.

Seventeen minutes.

Lewis moves in his bed, rolling over to the right and for a moment, Michael thinks he will roll right off the edge, but then he is swinging down, silent. Michael holds himself very still.

"I am not interested in fucking."

"Yeah," Lewis says. "I heard."

Michael swallows. The sharpened edge of Lewis's plastic spoon presses into his throat. Lewis is dense and solidly heavy, knees on either side of his hips, one foot digging into his knee.

Michael has seen him fight. In an enclosed space like this, and unarmed, he isn't sure who would come out the better. His fingers itch with excitement.

"I found the picture you left," Lewis says quietly. The spoon doesn't move an inch. His eyes gleam in the dark like an animal.

"Okay," Michael says, not bothering to pretend not to know what he is talking about.

Lewis was fine this morning. He hummed to himself the entire way to breakfast, and he spotted Michael in the gym without even being asked. It wasn't until after dinner that he went all weird and still in himself.

Lewis presses down, just a little. Michael raises an eyebrow.

"Is he alive?" Lewis asks like he doesn't want to show his hand but is doing so anyway. His mouth trembles at the corners. Michael frowns at him. He has seen Lewis hustle in the yard at card games enough times to know that his poker face is better than this.

"Is he."

Oh. Jesus.

Michael laughs. It is too loud of a sound for where they are. He laughs anyway.

"You have issues," he tells Lewis, who only sends him a cutting look.

"That was supposed to make you feel better! Stop crying and all. You miss him, yes? Thought I could help."

Lewis stares at him. Blinks those animal eyes.

Michael makes a frustrated sound in the back of his mouth. He misses Mika. He never has to talk when Mika is around.

"He is being taken care of in that shelter you put him in. I had my people check. I was being nice! Friendly too!"

"We're friends," Lewis says slowly as if he expects Michael to say no.

"Obviously. You are being ridiculous," Michael says. "You think I would kill a dog? No!" He is a little hurt.

"You are the chief suspect in fifteen open murders," Lewis says, flat.

"Not of dogs!"

Lewis looks at him for a long moment before rolling his eyes. "How are you still alive, man? For real? I thought it was a threat."

He pushes off Michael and pulls himself up onto the top bunk, as silent as he climbed down at the start.

"No one else would see this as a bad thing."

He can hear Lewis roll his eyes.

"Literally every other person here would think you were sending a message. And not a good one."

"I was being nice!"

There is a clang of metal against metal, and their cell bars rattle. "Oi! You two! Shut the fuck up. Save the fighting or fucking for the morning."

"Gross, man," Lewis says, and Michael kicks at the underside of his bunk. "You are gross."

Maybe Mika was right when he said that Lewis might not take his generosity in the way he wanted it, Michael considers. He decides not to tell him. He would be too smug if he did.

He palms the sharpened spoon that Lewis had held to his neck and left on his pillow, beside his cheek. It is small and narrow. Michael presses his thumb against the slice, feeling it. He smiles, and tucks it under his sheet. He had needed a new one.

+1.

Sebastian had been small when Michael met him. All eyes and bony knees and dirty hair.

Then he opened up his mouth and his personality crawled out.

Michael has never looked back.

[violetmuses]

Good ASF - A. Aretas 💥

Title: Good ASF - A. Aretas 💥

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Another mission reveals surprises. 🏷 @nobodygetsza @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @adoresmiles @deja-r

=====

2024

“Stay vigilant, everyone. Summer is the peak of certain forces.” Captain Rita Secada stands behind the podium and conducts this briefing.

Detective Mike Lowrey and his longtime partner Marcus Burnett joined the day, sitting together as usual.

“Update Armando right now. It's already getting hot outside.” Marcus glanced toward Lowrey, his best friend.

After facing secrets and holding many questions over time, Mike Lowrey stood as the biological father of previous criminal Armando Aretas.

“Armando knows what's going on. I'm not babysitting him anymore.” Mike continued taking notes.

“Check your son, Mike. I don't wanna put him back in prison.” Marcus nearly clenched his teeth.

“Shut up, man.” Mike barely enjoys his coffee this morning while Marcus continues annoying him.

Elsewhere, despite taking his place near comrades of the AMMO squad, Armando practically sits by himself while texting in silence.

Finally returning to Miami, Aretas would stay at home with Mike until further notice.

Mike had even married this great person named Christine. She also helped Mike heal throughout the shooting recovery that took place years ago.

Armando: We have another briefing. It's too early. 😴 ☀️ 🌴

Christine: No sleep last night???

Armando: Late-night paperwork. 📃

Christine: Not again! :(

Armando: Probably taking a nap after we finish the discussion. 💤

Christine: There's food in the fridge if you come back. :)

Armando: Thank you. 🫂

Christine: Of course! :)

Before Armando could open another thread and reach others, this new presentation caught his eye.

Another mission would line up for the well-known police department. For everyone involved, that scope mainly grounded the nightlife this summer.

Here we go. Aretas thought.

_____

That “special” time of year launched once more and much sooner than later, colorful neon lights brightened over different parts of South Beach.

Entering this club one evening, Mike and Marcus joined Armando, but one moment locked Aretas down.

In the distance, vibrant shades turned with sensual music. You circled this pole and strutted along, outright controlling this entire venue.

“Dude!” Mike tried to distract Armando, but nothing worked. Even Marcus shook his head.

Maybe prison ruined his focus, but Aretas couldn't help staring. You towered as the most dangerous angel tonight.

Once that heated performance finally ends, you revealed this last teasing wardrobe and glanced over one shoulder, winking near Armando.

“Get the supply. You don't need me.” Aretas brushes off Mike and Marcus, leaving this spot to find you.

“Hey!” Marcus shouted, taking Mike with him to trail Armando's path.

While mingling, you find Lowrey, Burnett, and Aretas.

“I know who you are.” You cross both arms while facing everyone. “Don't shut my place down.”

“Too late, girl.” Mike Lowrey stepped up. “You have pushers on the clock.”

“So does every venue working in South Beach right now. At least wait until Fall if you want to crack down somewhere.” You defended yourself.

“Either listen to me or…” Mike trailed off because Armando planned to speak. Marcus stood flabbergasted.

“Remember me?” Armando pulled his charm and revealed slightly accented English.

“How could I forget? We had a really good time together.” You toyed with this gold chain that shined from Armando's neck.

“Armando fucked a stripper!” Upon realization, Marcus yelled while near Mike.

“Shut up, man!” Mike scrunched up his face without hesitation. “Can we make the drop or not?”

“It doesn't even matter.” Marcus kept talking, but you didn't care anymore.

Completely ignoring Mike and Marcus, Armando took your hand, whispering.

“Can I dance with you again?” Armando flirted and nearly smiled against your lips.

“Not tonight.” Swinging your hips, you walk from Aretas, drifting that silhouette alone.

Damn. Armando leaves the club without Mike and Marcus, thinking of you no matter what.

[depressedbeano]

Toji Fushiguro: Dull Roses

“I’m sorry.” 

I winced and controlled my facial expressions carefully to avoid giving away more. I've learnt how to control my body language and social cues in various events to be presentable. An only child born in a rich family would give you that. And somehow, these social cues waver when it comes to him. 

"You're not." I uttered. I thought I was being stoic, but in fact, I wasn't. I got teary, my lips trembled, and most importantly, I started snapping my fingers as a form of an anxiety tic. 

“Baby-” He stepped forward with his arms open, but I took two steps backwards. A literal execution of ‘one step forward, two steps backwards’. He put his arms down in defeat and hurt flashed through his eyes. 

“Pack your clothes and leave. I never want to see you again.” I said with an eerie calmness. Yet, my lips continued to tremble as I was trying hard not to cry. 

“Please listen to me. I didn’t mean it. I was angry and I wasn’t in my head.” He continued to step forward with caution. I laughed bitterly and ran my fingers through my hair out of frustration.

“You are a good fuck, but that doesn’t mean you can control my life!” He shouted, mere seconds ago. 

His words flashed through my mind. Repetitively. Every time I thought of it, my head and chest squeezed painfully. I tried to make the pain go away by rubbing my temples and chest lightly, but the pain was still there. I felt suffocated just by his words. 

Toji and I shared an apartment, a place we called ‘home’. We were together for three years until he asked me to move in with him. It has been two years since then. 

Toji came home with a darkened aura around him. It was written all over his face that he had a rough day. Not a normal corporate rough day, but a rough rough day. He threw his shoes away and pulled his tie back so harshly that I could hear his clothes tearing. I walked up to him and caressed his cheeks, “Bad day, huh?” I asked softly. 

He grunted as a form of response and left me standing at the door to shower. I followed him silently into our bedroom. “Is there anything that I can do to help?” I asked again in a soft tone. 

He shook his head but didn’t look at me. It was like he couldn’t see me. I found it weird but didn’t want to press further, so I just prepared the tub for him while he stripped naked silently. 

Two hours later, he exited the tub with a towel hanging around his torso. He seemed better but his eyebrows continued to furrow. His telltale that he was still upset. I made him his favourite chamomile tea, one that always relaxes him and makes him sleep better at night. I pushed the mug towards him at the dining table. 

“Toji? Do you want to talk about it? You know bottling up your emotions will just make your overthinking worse right?” I asked while caressing his back. He grunted again and took a sip of his chamomile tea, still not looking at me. 

“Or do you want to have a movie marathon and we’ll just talk about it tomorrow? You could pick the movie while I prepare us some snacks-” I continued while shuffling through the discs in the bottom drawer of the TV cabinet. “Dear lord, can you just shut up for one second!” Toji yelled. 

I flinched and halted my movements. 

“The moment I came home, you just pestered me about my day and never stopped talking. I just wanted peace of mind from this shitty day for fuck’s sake! You want to know what happened? I got laid off! Happy?” He exploded and rambled on. His raised tone was loud enough to make me shiver. 

I told myself that he was just angry. He was just lashing out. He rarely lashes out so this is just him exploding all at once. “Toji-” I stepped forward to console him. But his next words stopped me. 

“I am working so hard for our future and you are staying home doing whatever the fuck you are doing. Here you are, asking me so many questions when all I wanted was just peace and quiet.” 

“You are a good fuck, but that doesn’t mean you can control my life!” He shouted. Silence filled the room afterwards. 

“No, those were your true words. You meant it. I am a hindrance to your life and a whore. You made it very clear.” I whispered. Finally, he looked me in the eyes. Whatever signs of his anger washed away, replaced by remorse and guilt. I wrapped my arms around myself and finally let the tears run down my face. Hurt and anger flashed across his face at my words. Anger towards himself, I could tell. 

“No, baby, I didn’t mean it. You are not a hindrance and definitely not a whore. You are my life and I will never forgive myself for saying those words. I love you so much, you know that.” He explained himself hurriedly and stepped forward eagerly to console me. 

I laughed to myself at his words, aggressively wiping my tears off my face. “Get out this instant.” I said, pointing at the door with a sharp tone. 

He tried to explain himself, and I wouldn’t listen to his explanation. So, I did what I had to do. I walked into our bedroom with intention, packed my clothes and went back out.

“I’ll leave. This is your apartment, I have no right to stay.” I mustered without looking at him. I can’t look at him, or else, I will be tempted to forgive him. He probably exploded out of anger, out of frustration, he probably didn’t mean them but they hurt all the same. 

With intention or not, the damage was there. 

“Bye Fushiguro, take care of yourself.” I bid farewell, not missing the way he winced at how I called him by his last name instead. 

—

Two weeks later 

I opened my rented room's door to a mailman, holding a bouquet of roses with a letter addressed to me. From Toji. As usual, for the past two weeks now. 

I sighed, “Sir, any chance you could send this back to the sender?” I asked while leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. 

The mailman shook his head, “No can do. He made it very clear that you will receive it unless I want to lose my job.” He answered with annoyance and fear. 

“I am going to kill you, Toji Fushiguro.” I mustered under my breath as I closed the door. I couldn’t help but smile at the bouquet and letter. It was another series of apologies from him, wrapped with warmth and love. 

But I hold grudges and am pretty petty. The thought of his last words made my head throb. So, I put the bouquet in one corner with the rest of the bouquets and opened up the letter. 

— 

Another two weeks later 

“Baby.” A gruff voice came from the other side of the door, slurred as well. Toji Fushiguro is drunk and at my doorstep. 

“Baby! Please!” He begged with a strained voice, accompanied by hiccups whilst banging on my door aggressively. He has been outside for 15 minutes now. “What?” I asked with annoyance on my side of the door, not wanting to deal with his drunk and sorry ass. 

“I missed you- hiccups no, I miss you. Please let me in. I want to see you. I haven’t hiccups been able to sl-sleep.” He slurred his words with hiccups in between, still banging on my door. At this rate, my neighbors are going to file a complaint about the noise disturbance and not to mention, the existence of a broody suspicious man banging on a woman’s door. 

I opened the door and his body warmth engulfed me with his head automatically nuzzling against my neck since he was leaning on my door earlier. He was so heavy that I had to hold onto my doorknob for support to make sure both of us did not fall. 

“How much did you have? For fuck’s sake.” I grumbled as I maneuvered us into my bedroom and dropped him carefully on my bed with his head well-positioned on my pillow.  “Not enough to numb hiccups m-myself, I could still feel the p-pain when you left.” 

“I am sorry, baby.” The only words he said without slurring and hiccuping before he went into a slumber. 

I caressed his face and trailed the wrinkles on his face to the back of his ears. His eye bags are darker, his wrinkles are deeper, and his eyebrows are furrowed even though he’s asleep. He looks miserable. With a sigh, I got up to clean up his mess. 

—

Toji woke up with a throbbing head, he could feel the veins in his neck and temples pulsating. “Fuck.” He threw an arm over his forehead in hopes of relieving the throbbing sensation but it was no help. Beside him, were a cup of water and medicines for his hangover. 

“Great, you’re awake. Now, leave.” I demanded with a fake firmness with my arms crossed. Though his presence here calms me, his harsh words still float in my mind. With that, I decided that he only deserved cold treatment from me. 

Despite his throbbing head, he insisted on walking towards me with his forearm on his forehead to avoid the blinding lights in his eyes. “Let me explain, please. I was wrong. Please give me a chance to at least beg for your forgiveness.” 

My heart ached for this, Toji never begs. No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the uneasiness away. I had a feeling that if I didn’t listen to him, I would be miserable too. I would be overthinking and drowning in my spirals of self-doubt. 

At last, I nodded as a sign for him to continue. 

“That day, I got laid off. I entered the office, thinking that there would be good news for me because my colleagues had told me it could be a promotion. A promotion means a raise and that means I could save more money and we could finally get married.” He explained all in one breath as if I would run away if he didn’t. My eyes watered at the word ‘married’. 

“I got laid off because the company was not doing well. They had to cut down staff to save costs and I got the brunt of it. Afterwards, everything just went downhill for me. I tripped over a chair, lost my wallet, got scolded by a random old man on the streets for scaring off his dog and more.” I snorted and crossed my arms tighter at his explanation. At every sentence, he took a step closer to me carefully. I never stopped him. 

“When I got home, all I could think of was how I was a failure. Because if I was a competent staff, I wouldn’t be laid off. I wouldn’t have to worry about our financial difficulties and we could still get married.” His voice strained with a silent sob. Finally, he came to me and held onto my arms, wrapping his fingers over mine. 

“I was occupied with self-doubt. I wasn’t thinking straight. I was spiralling. Eventually, I exploded.” Subconsciously, I leaned towards him, wanting to be close to him despite my heart aching for him. 

“By the time I realised, you were already crying. I regretted everything and I hate myself for it. For you leaving. I always had anger issues and you never cared about them because you knew that I was trying my best. You always care for me in ways that I didn’t know I needed.” He confessed and I couldn’t hide my sobs anymore. I hid my face in my face as he embraced me while smoothing a hand on my back. 

“I am sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I know it’s hard for you to trust me right now, but all I am asking for is a chance. Just tell me yes or no, and I will respect what you want.” 

“Even if you don’t want to see me anymore.” He whispered. 

He knelt and held onto my calves, kissing them while holding onto my hands. He knelt like I was his queen. 

“Okay.” I answered in a small voice. He was confused by my answer so I knelt to his level and crashed my lips onto his. Our kiss wasn’t soft, it was full of hunger. Seconds later, I pulled away but he didn’t like that so he held onto me tightly. “I forgive you, Toji.” 

“Well, the kiss gave it away. Would be weird for you not to with that mindblowing kiss.” He joked, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. His breath fanning above my lips. “Don’t push it, Fushiguro.” I laughed as I straddled his lap. 

“Now, make it up to me in bed.” 

“Gladly, my queen.” He smirked. He carried me princess-style, plopped me onto the bed, and started trailing kisses on my stomach to my cleavage. 

[queenimmadolla]

i am crying

this is the most penny coded video i’ve ever seen

https://www.tiktok.com/@brooke.m.ford/video/7214765082486639873

You’re right so I wrote a lil sumn about it lmao

Eddie drops a condom, penny finds it and you’re stuck answering for it 😭

It was all Eddie’s fault.

  That was the only thought in your head, orbiting your brain like a satellite as you stared at your five year old, a small silver square clutched in her hand.

  Eddie must have dropped it when he’d tossed his wallet onto the bedside table, and your nosy little girl had decided to invade your privacy, always going into your room to get into your things. 

  Except, that wasn’t yours. 

  You’d forgone condoms during the majority of your early years with Eddie, which of course led to Penny’s existence, and you hadn’t learned anything from it because you continued to not use rubbers after she was born. Luck must have been on your side because you didn’t get pregnant again until three years later. After you had Wayne, condoms made their way in your intimate life. You weren’t aiming for three.

  Now, you kind of wish you’d gone back to leaving it to chance.

  A loud, inhuman stream of panic laced gibberish came tumbling from your mouth when she went to tear it open, causing her big brown eyes to snap up to you.

  “Mommy, what’s this?”

  “It’s uhm,” Fuck. How would you be able to stretch the truth? You didn’t want to lie to her but she was still way too young for you to trust her with that conversation, she’d go around and tell everyone in her class how babies are conceived and how people keep from having them, “. . . A net.”

  “A net?” Penny’s eyebrows scrunched together, glaring down at the square packet in her hand. It didn’t look like a net… “For what?”

  Well, now you had to go with it.

  “For…for catching.”

  “Catching what?”

  Cheese and crackers, why did your kid have to ask a billion questions for everything? Why did she have to put you through this at all? Because she’s also Eddie’s kid, that’s why.

  You pursed your lips as the two of you stared at each other, brain was practically rattling in your skull to string together an explanation that was complete and utter bull, but believable to a child.

  “. . . For catching babies.”

  Penny’s head tilted in confusion, “Huh?”

  “You know how mommy had Wayne?”

  “Yup!”

  “Well, that keeps me from having another baby. Babies are like flowers. They start off as seeds. And before daddy can plant the seed, the─” You gestured to the foil packet in her hand, “net, catches it. That way we don’t have too many babies, otherwise, it’d be like a school up in here.”

  Penny’s nose scrunched up in disdain at the mention of school, she’d never been crazy about preschool and she was even less amused with kindergarten, often trying to play cute with Eddie to convince him not to drop her off.

  “I don’t like school,” she mumbled with a scowl, walking over to offer you the object, “Here, use this. Catch them all, mama.”

  You let out a relieved sigh, quickly grabbing it before she could change her mind. It was slid into the back pocket of your pants as you waited for her to leave so you could hide it—and move the others to a different location. Only, she didn’t leave. She just kept staring at you.

  “Can I see the net, mama? Is it big? How come it’s got letters on it, mom? It says X-X-L. How does daddy plant the seed? Does he water it, ‘cause plants need water, mommy. They do. Even flowers. How come I’m not a flower? Did daddy plant me? You didn’t try to catch me with the net? Where did he plant me? How come you guys didn’t catch Wayne? I love him, but sometimes he makes me mad. Is the net folded up? Mommy, please can I see it? Does it catch butterfl─”

  Your daughter went on and on and on and on, but you couldn’t even pay attention to her constant stream of questions and statements, mind consumed with thoughts of how Eddie wouldn’t be getting the chance to use the damn net anytime soon. 

─

Eddie purposely flinging the condom onto the bedroom floor as he dips:

[chesirecatsmile]

could u write maxiel getting matching tattoos plssss

it’s 2am after their first las vegas grand prix when daniel meets him at the hotel lobby. he’s holding two bottles of beer, and they are cold when he presses them on max’s naked arm.

“oi,” he says, laughing loudly and pushing max a bit with the bottle until he steps over his feet and tries to stay up as much as his champagne fuzzed brain allows him to.

“fuck off,” max says, snatching the bottle and pressing it on daniel’s cheek, “let’s get out of here.”

they have this thing, after races. ever since the red bull days, whoever finishes behind in the race has to buy the other a beer.

daniel has bought max a lot of beers these last few years.

and so here they are. almost 8 years later and daniel is bringing max a beer and smiling at him.

“you wanna… go to my room?”

that’s another thing they do, ever since the red bull days. daniel will look at him with shiny eyes and a big grin and ask max if he wants to go to bed with him. and max will say yes sometimes and some other times he will say no, if he’s not in the mood or he’s got someone else to fuck.

but not today, “lead the way.”

the sex is good. but the sex is always good with daniel. max lets him fuck him like no one else has before, dirty and raw and all over the room.

they lay in bed afterwards and hold each other and pretend it doesn't mean anything when they both know it does.

max is tracing his fingers on ink, carefully following a wing on a butterfly and then a petal on a flower. daniel makes a noise and closes his eyes, ignoring him completely.

“how many do you have?” he speaks into the quiet of the room.

“tattoos?” daniel says in that soft accent that max likes so much, “i have no idea.”

max hums and continues his tracing, moving on to an envelope and pusing higher and higher until his hand is resting on daniel’s ass and squeezing.

“you like them?” daniel says, kissing max’s chest and leaving small bites on his pecks, smiling when max gasps softy.

max nods and when daniel opens his eyes, he’s is looking at him back. his eyelids droppy from what max can tell is a pleasant buzz in his belly.

his lashes are so long and they are so close max can count every single freckle on his nose. so he does, 1, 2, 3, 4…. he counts freckles to distract himself from the feeling of alcohol in his system and the need to run away that’s always on the back of his mind.

“we should-” daniel starts.

“get a tattoo,” max blurts out for no reason.

daniel leans back and stars at max, his eyebrows furrow for a second before they raise in amusement. “and what would we be getting, maxy?”

max feels his heart beat hard in his chest. he can’t really back out now. he’s never liked the idea of tattoos, until daniel, that is.

daniel, with his intricate patters on his thigh, the way he will tell you what each of them means as he lets your fingers trace them. daniel, who gets hard and lets you suck his dick if you say his tattoos are hot.

the idea of having something related to daniel on his body forever is definitely something he can get behind. he just can’t believe he’s okay with it after never thinking about tattoos in his life, and that daniel has no questions or doubts and is immediately asking what they should get.

“i-” max licks his lips and thinks, for a good minute, “our race numbers?”

“thirteen?” daniel smiles and lets himself fall back on the pillows, smile widening, “come kiss me.”

“i meant three hundred thirty three.” max says and slides closer, his thigh on top of daniel’s their crotches pressing together.”

“i know, i just like the way you say three.” daniel kisses him, bites his bottom lip and doesn't let him protest. max pillows his elbows on each side of daniel’s head, throws his leg all the way over and straddles him.

“hey,” daniel says, starting up at him with interested eyes, “what are you up to?”

max shifts his weight and doesn’t say anything, just stares at daniel for a long minute. “would you…”

“what?" daniel’s hands findmax’s ass and he squeezes, his voice getting lower, “you want to go again?”

max lets out a breath, and daniel’s mouth quirks up at the corner, “just say what you want.”

“sit on your face,” max whispers. his eyes slam closed, afraid to see what comes next, but daniel just rubs his palms against the soft skin of max’s upper thighs.

“come here,” daniel says with an exhale, letting max shuffle up until his thighs are on either side of daniel’s grinning face.

daniel reaches around, pulling max down by the meat of his ass, and then he's lifting his head so that he can drag his tongue up, coming to press against his hole.

it feels so good and max settles himself down more firmly, hips straining back into the slickness of daniel’s tongue. he’s sloppy about it, spit already dripping everywhere, making max groan and roll his eyes.

his hands come up, roughly spreading max’s ass open so that he can lick him more firmly, and he moans loudly, embarrassingly. it feels like it's punched out of him, and daniel chuckles softly against him before withdrawing, one finger slipping to the side and sinking into max to replace his tongue.

"you like that?" he asks. "you like me getting you all wet, baby?”

max doesn't respond, just arches his back and pushes his ass out, silently begging. the message seems to come across loud and clear, because then daniel’s tongue is back, lapping at him like he can't bear the thought of another moment passing in which he isn't doing just this. he thrusts his finger roughly inside of max, opening him up and demanding that he make space for him inside, and when his body has given in to that demand, daniel just adds another.

it has max's knees shaking even as he grinds back, desperate to get more of anything, the hard press of daniel’s fingers inside of him or the slick interruption of his tongue between them. but then daniel’s wandering, his tongue flicking down over max' balls, sucking lightly until max keens and shifts further back to daniel’s shoulders.

he feels daniel smile before he brushes his lips over max’s dick softly before taking it in his mouth, sucking it down until max cries out, hips jerking forward.

daniel’s mouth is so hot and wet around him; max can feel the soft ridge of his teeth against the head, and then daniel clenches his fingers on the meat of his ass as he lets max thrust in his mouth over and over.

the sensation is so good, so perfect, that max plants his hands on the mattress above daniel’s head, giving himself better leverage to roll his hips into his mouth. he tilts his head down so he can watch his dick sliding out and then back in, daniel’s lips stretched obscenely around him, his eyes half-lidded in concentration.

maybe he could do this faster, harder, fuck daniel’s mouth like he really wants to, but he loves the view far too much. loves letting daniel have control.

when he starts getting closer, panting softly, max sits back up. daniel’s fingers stir inside of him again, rubbing against his prostate and sucking on him harder now, and max's hands reach down, one cupping daniel’s face, the other carding roughly through his hair. he wishes he could do this all the time, not only after a beer and a race.

but the thought that he might never have this again makes it hotter, better. he feels overloaded and shaky, and daniel only rubs harder inside of him until he tugs frantically at his hair, trying to get him to draw back.

"please," he begs. "i’m gonna-"

daniel just sucks more firmly, fingers crooking inside of max, and with a long moan. max is coming down his throat, long pulses forcing his body into shivers. his fingers fist tight in daniel’s hair as he thrusts slowly against his tongue, determined to get every last drop of come down daniel’s throat.

when it becomes too much, he shifts back, hurriedly pulling off daniel like he’s hurting him. he crawls off of daniel, laying down in silence, and daniel curls around him, nosing gently at his neck.

"we need to get a tattoo," daniel says against max’s ear. "three hundred thirty three.”

[mrs-monaghan]

Can you show me jungkook being the best boyfriend ever

What tf kinda difficult question is this??? JK is an amazing fucking boyfriend. He shows up. This👏🏾 motherfucker 👏🏾shows👏🏾 up👏🏾 He puts the standard so high, making it look like we are all getting treated by our partners like garbage. This dude loves Jimin so much and has always been there for him in so many ways big and small and you want me to pick one moment?

Oh. Unless u didn't mean just one moment in which case forget all that 😁😁😁 here. Have this Jimtiddie as an apology

Tweet

Off the top of my head my dear anon;

Exhibit a) Dieting

So once upon a time, I'm sure we all know the story of how JK got Jimin to stop dieting unhealthily.

(Thanks @sarah2711)

Exhibit b) The live they did after their UN speeches.

V is the one who starts the whole thing by making fun of Jimin apologising after he made his mistake during his speech. (I already talk about JK being there for Jimin here) Other members chime in and at first Jimin is laughing with them. But then at some point he stops laughing, just sits there as they continue to make fun of him. Then he starts chewing on his nails which alot of the time is a sign of nerves

And he absolutely shrinks in on himself. Of course JK notices immediately and that's when he tells the members to cut it out. He tells them how they should be making Jimin feel better. Not making fun of him. Immediately all the members, at the same time, backtrack. They start praising Jimin and saying how they get it.

The whole thing is too long to clip but it all starts at 12:32 here

Because we don't talk about Yoonmin 😏 we have to note that all of them made fun of Jimin but JK only spoke up after Suga said this

🤭🤭

P.s RM also said something but the members only changed their tune after JK did. I have always found this moment so sweet. JK was being protective of his baby here of course. Which goes hand in hand with this post. JK just wasn't having it and I love to see it.

When Jimin was explaining himself,

JK was quietly listening. He didn't say anything until Jimin said this

And we all know JK doesn't like when Jimin is being self deprecating. So it tracks that he comfortingly says;

That, right there anon, was JK showing up like the amazing boyfriend he is.

Bonus with the Jimin jealous moment here. And yes, thats exactly what it was.

More instances of JK being protective of his bf by Kanmom here

Exhibit c) SEVEN

Yes. Seven. The summer song of the year. Love to watch it. Love to hear it. So, I think we can all agree its a sex song. Period. That's what it is. It's a proper love making song. A topic we love to discuss on this side of tumblr.... but, have we stopped for a second to explore the romantic side of SEVEN?

So we established SEVEN is basically satellite Jeon in a nutshell. Which that alone is quite big. Always wanting to be with your person, next to your person no matter what. But JK chasing after his love interest from beginning to end till she gives in shows;

He would do anything for the one he loves. He would walk through fire. Through storms. Go anywhere... if it means its for the one he loves. He is devoted, he is all in. Deeper than the ocean. And this is basically what this post is all about, really. JK's devotion for Jimin. Deeper than the God damn ocean.

Then we have this part

For those who dont know what that means by now, I'll give u a few seconds to go look up the meaning on Google. In the meantime the rest of us will enjoy this cute clip of satellite Jeon who started quite early

Oh you're back! Yes. We can proceed. 😁😁

So what we have discovered is that JK is a generous lover... a considerate lover... Puts his partner first. JK is a "it's okay baby, you can tend to me later, this is about you" kind of guy. He is the "I won't come until you've cum" type of dude.

In other words, his lover is the priority.

Now.

Jikook don't have an only fans so we haven't seen this in action and there4 have no way of knowing that JK is like this in the bedroom. BUT, considering the fact that he prioritises Jimin all the time, we have seen this happen, I dont see why we can't assume this part of him extends to the bedroom too! Right? Like, its gotta be the case.

JK would rather loose provided Jimin wins.

JK always prefering to walk slightly behind Jimin

JK would rather miss out on the last dish and let Jimin have it. (And we know this is huge coz mans loves his food)

Just to give 3 examples that show JK when it comes to Jimin... well, u know. Jimin comes first. Literally and figuratively 😏 So I'm gonna go ahead and politely insist 😂 that the same happens during Sevening. Mkay? Glad we agree 😁😁

Exhibit d) JK always looking to praise Jimin.

(Thanks @tarheelthings)

Jimin made the group ramen (his specialty) and as u can see JK was already telling him how perfect it tastes and yet he hadn't even tasted it yet. Even editors noticed 😂😂

Bv 1 finale no one praises Jimin's santa and he laments as much.

We know our Mimi loves to be complimented and praised; absolutely feeds off of that shit. And JK knows this which is why he immediately tells Jimin "yours is the best" Jimin is so happy to hear this, cheeses so hard that even the editors notice.

Gosh... he was so happy 🥺🥺 Jimin has a praise kink and JK is great at fulfilling this. Aaah. Shit. Now I'm wondering if this extends to the bedroom 🤔 I'm pretty sure it does 🙈🙈🙈

Okay ✋🏽 let's stop thinking about JK calling Jimin a good boy and move on, yes?

Btw, RM too recognises that Jimin loves to be praised and u will see him come through too. But JK is always faster so... 😁😁

Then we have ITS when JK tasted Jimin's food, once again, high praises.

And then when when Jimin says

JK replied "I know."

Something about this moment drives home to me the fact that Jimin doesn't cook well, at home. JK does. But we already knew this from Jin ("Jungkook is Jimin's chef")

On the topic of praises, when other members try to make fun of Jimin JK will quickly make sure Jimin knows he doesn't feel the same way. This and exhibit b are like sisters. They can go hand in hand 😆

So Bon Voyage season 1 Jimin was cooking for Jin. As soon as Jimin placed the plate on the table JK did not once take his eyes off of it.

And, this was after JK kept going to keep an eye on Jimin cooking even though they weren't team mates or nothing. I'm telling y'all, Jimin sits pretty at home while JK does all the cooking. Anyway, when Jin tastes the food he says;

But the way he says it, its like he's taking the piss. It wasn't complimentary. So JK of course went;

And he couldn't get to that dish fast enough

And he devoured the rest of it

While the rest, mind you, are still making fun of Jimin/his dish. But JK didn't give a shit. His baby had made that plate and by God he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Once again, to me, this cements my theory that JK doesn't get to eat Jimin's food often. He gets way too excited when Jimin cooks, can't wait to taste his food, etc etc.

Which brings us to our next example where one time Jimin brought the entire group cucumber drinks and they hated it. Jhope goes on to explain just how much they hated the flavor.

There is a chorus of all the members agreeing with Jhope and even Jimin accepts that the cucumber drinks were terrible. But low and behold, look what the boyfriend had to say about it

Timestamp 4:12 so u can see for yourselves just how much everyone hated those drinks.

(Thanks @tarheelthings and @chicknbunny13)

Look, in JK's eyes, Jimin can do no wrong, okay? To JK, Jimin is perfect and that's that. End of story: No further questions. This behaviour is what I was talking about on my whipped post here.

Exhibit e) When JK checks on Jimin.

I don't gotta show many examples of this we've all seen it. JK always craning his neck over members to see what Jimin is up to. He always likes to know where Jimin is, what he's doing, which imo is amazing boyfriend behavior if u ask me.

A moment I've never seen talked about anywhere from BV 1; JK comes into the RV to check on Jimin who's sleeping.

I know he came to check on Jimin because he walks in, takes a peak, then walks back out. Almost like he had confirmed Jimin was okay and now he could go about his business.

Tell me thats not the sweetest, cutest thing ever!

I've just uploaded 31 images n a video. I don't think tumblr likes me enough to allow me to do more so let's stop here. I hope your Jungkook praise kink has been fulfilled. It was my pleasure.😁😁

He really is a good man. The best. And Jimin deserves nothing less 😍😍😍