#being an amalgamation of all of them i think

[oceansoul001]

So it's been around two weeks now since I've finished Kingdom Come Deliverance 2, and to tell you all that there has not been a single day that I haven't thought about this game would be such a big understatement. Cause I'm not sure there has been a single hour that I'm awake that I haven't thought about it. And it's so weird! Let me explain.

I mean, it's not atypical for me to be fascinated by a piece of culture, be it a game, a movie, a tv series, a book, whatever. But this, this is something else, on a completely different level, and for the love of everything I just can't explain it! Maybe two weeks it's still super fresh, maybe it's because I'm now still playing the first KCD, what keeps me within this world, but I find myself constantly going back to thinking about it, about the story, about the characters, and most of all of course about Henry & Hans, and how special they feel to me.

It is particularly weird with Henry, because he is this strange amalgam of a written character and a player character, a sort-of-my-avatar in this world, but at the same time quite defined. I cannot compare this balance to any other game protagonist really, every other (that I know of) was either one or another, with my preference being always the custom character with some defined characteristics - meaning custom looks and gender, even if the backstory or a general vibe was not changeable (like, let's say, a Dark Urge in BG3 is for me a custom character, even if some crucial parts of them are well defined). But Henry's not like that, he always looks like Henry and sounds like Henry. At the same time, the flexibility of how he can react to the world is wider than with a typical written character. And even if within the game story we cannot actually change or influence what happens, generally the same things in the main plot always happen to my Henry and to your Henry, I think we can still differ in interpretation, what it actually means for MY Henry, and it can differ from what it means for YOUR Henry. And neither of us would be incorrect.

Some people might compare this maybe to the Witcher series, which is probably the closest, yes, but for me it's still completely different. I never WAS Geralt in my heart in any game from the trilogy. I played as Geralt, I made some choices, I picked a romance, I was immersed in the stories etc, but it was always the same Geralt to me, one and established character, not MY character. Maybe because he was first and foremost the book character in my head, and much later a video game protagonist, so it might feel different for other people, but I never had with him this weird fluid feeling of being him and not being him when I played the games. And I have it with Henry. I don't know if it makes any sense at all to anybody beside me.

And with Henry, it feels different, it feels as if I partially were Henry, when I played; I would not ask myself "Hmm, what would Henry do in this situation", it was rather "What would I do", with me being Henry at that point. With me taking over the emotions that my Henry would feel at a given moment. This again might feel as a regular thing for some people, who immerse themselves easily into defined protagonists, but it is not typical for me. And I tell you more - I have this... Thing... That it is much more difficult for me to find my own voice in a male protagonist. I can love them and root for them, of course, but it is like watching a movie or reading a book. Not "becoming" them when I'm playing as them in a video game.

I'm this kind of RPG player that always, like ALWAYS, plays as a female character, if I have a choice. I've never thought about it much, or why it's that way, but it is something I am very conscious about. And with Henry it's somehow different, it's like the way he is written and presented leaves still a place for me to blend in somewhere as well, despite the fact that he actually has an unchangeable face and an unchangeable voice. ...Or maybe it is partially because of that? Meaning that Henry is NOT your 'typical male video game protagonist', thank gods. But it cannot be just that, as there are definitely more characters in other games that do not fall into this category as well, and they don't leave me with the same feeling Henry does. I cannot explain it any better I'm afraid, I just feel this special connection between myself as a player and Henry as a protagonist that I have not felt before. And it makes him so, so special to me.

With Hans it is much easier to explain of course. Everyone loves Hans. He is funny, and witty, and cocky, and caring, and emotional, and vulnerable, and yes, he is sometimes self-absorbed, but he is also this pure, naive idealist - I LOVE the part when he says to Brabant that the role of the nobility is to protect the people they rule over, because I know that he genuinely believes that! He is this type of character that I always feel the need to protect, even if he doesn't need it actually at a given moment. Like in the framework of the game, when I AM Henry, I would gladly carry him over any puddle, so that he always stays safe, and warm, and comfy, and I would die for him no questions asked at any given point, even if it meant like the worst possible game ending for me as a player. Have I already mentioned that I love Hans?

But there is also one more layer, the layer that in my head is simply labeled as "Henry&Hans", together. And this is probably THE weirdest part to explain from all of this babbling. But I've got to try. So generally, when it comes to romances in fiction, I would say that yes, I enjoy a good romance, I really like when it is part of a story, I root for characters that I like to get together. But I rarely think about it outside of enjoying said fiction. I am usually not much of a shipper, don't read fanfictions, don't download fanarts, etc. I am now trying to recall when was the last time that I was really, like REALLY invested in a fictional ship, and I don't know, I think it might have been in 2017, when The Last Jedi premiered, and I was immensely angry that Rey and Kylo Ren didn't get together. It was freaking 8 years ago!

It is a bit different when it comes to romances in video games with customizable protagonists, because in that case I don't only expect to be immersed, I demand to be immersed, so to speak, if this is supposed to work. I need to feel something, anything, to be engaged in a romance that I am supposed to be an active part of, meaning choosing a character to romance, picking dialogue options, enjoying interactions, etc. And it happens quite rare. Most of romances in video games are just an additional mechanic of a sort, and choosing "I am going to romance this character" is not much different than "I am going to buy this ship/horse/base", or less harshly "I am going to make all squad mates loyal to me", not necessarily because I like all of them equally, but because it is possible within the game, so why not.

The video game romances that truly got to me were of course mostly the ones that had some good writing behind it, or great acting, or an interesting angle. I loved my Astarion romance during my first BG3 playthrough, because it ticked all the categories mentioned above, but also something beyond that. And I never loved any other of the romances from BG3 to the same degree, even though most of them are truly great and I really enjoyed playing through them. I loved my Solas romance in DAI (and in DATV even), because it was so different, it mostly wasn't even there so to say, like it was probably the least of romance content possible to even have a romance, but it touched something in me. And... No, that's that, that were the only ones that I had feelings and emotions about as a me-player, not just as a character I am pretending to be. Up till now.

So, with Henry&Hans romance, to jump from one digression to another digression, because who is reading all this at this point anyway, for quite some time I didn't even know, and later didn't fully believe, that is in the game. I started to play KCD2 around two weeks before it premiered, and all I've heard at this point was that there is potentially some gay romance that some people were rioting about, but I didn't even care much. You see, coming back to my previous notes about not being really immersed into male protagonists, because I am not male, it was always the same, or even more true, with romances - I was actually really immersed only into romances where I can play as a female character and I can romance a male character of my choosing. Because that is how it works in my life as well. Imagine my surprise when I'm playing through this medieval simulator about some guys engaging in some politics and shit, not expecting that this is soon going to be one of the most important games in my life, and then suddenly getting smitten by these two. It was when we got to Trosky, I remember it clearly, and they told me that I have now twelve bell tolls to save Hans. MY HANS! I mean, not mine at that point, really. At that point what I felt was probably sadness, because I was sure, oh I was so sure, that they would never let us romance Hans, are you kidding me? Like two main characters that have a history together, that are actually connected to one another throughout the whole story? With Hans being present in the game as his own, fully fledged character, with his own story arc, being already our best friend? Not being in the game to serve the one purpose of being a romanceable character? And to top it all, with like two guys?! I believe I am quite media-literate, so to say, have consumed my portion of different arts, and I just know it won't happen, it can't happen. It would be a contradiction to everything we have known so far. This kind of ships happen only in our imagination, in our fanfics, in our fanarts. So I didn't even dwell on it much.

And then came the ride to Nebakov, the first in game moment when you see this dialogue option with a heart icon next to it, and what the hell, am I just imagining things? I kid you not, for the next week my mind was living in this prison of "are they fucking Hans-baiting me; I won't forgive them if they are", because I simply couldn't believe that this is actually possible, that this could be our romance option, a meaningful one!

So it was probably all of the above, finally a meaningful romance, not just something slapped on a game with a plot as a separate thing, finally a meaningful character, not a "romanceable character", but a main character with a possible romance, if you get what I'm trying to say. A character that I've already started to love. And with this incomprehensible thing of me becoming Henry when I'm playing, it clicked. It clicked as nothing else ever did in the fiction that I've experienced so far.

And now I'm sitting here, a woman in her late 30s, not queer, thinking about these two fictional guys and their fictional love, like every day, and what it means to me as a person, and I just can't!!! The weirdest feeling ever. But a wholesome one, I think.

Thank you, if for some reason you've decided to read through this, I promise that I am not crazy, or at least I thought so up till this point. Now... not so sure. I needed to vent it all somewhere, somehow, and this is probably like the only place on the internet where I won't feel very bad about spilling it all out.

[1007xf]

Hallucinations

Ever since EP3 first came out and I found out that the hallucinations during the Translation Core fight change depending on your team and that each member has a corresponding one, I've been, well, very normal about this fact. I've been ruminating over theories in my brain ever since then and now with EP4 behind me I think it's about time I laid down my thoughts about each one in written form for whoever has the patience to humor me.

DISCLAIMER this entire post could be me overthinking some cool designs. But overthinking is like my thing so. Can't help it☆☆

Now, I'm going in with the assumption that each hallucination represents some sort of deep seated fear within each character. Maybe not necessarily their biggest fear ever, but definitely something that eats away at them from the inside. So, let's begin with looking at each of them in alphabetical order!

Akizet

Starting off strong here with I Have No Idea. Seriously. For all of these, I have some pretty robust interpretations, but Akizet's the only one that fully stumps me.

I can make out some elements, the receptors on it seem to be tir, but they hardly match any character we know of. The shape kind of fits Miltza, but her receptors have 5 "fingers", not 4, and Kazki doesn't fit at all either. So either this is someone from her past we haven't met yet (Rouzesche? Unlikely), not any specific person at all, or I'm missing something.

Obviously something that sets this hallucination apart is the pink "strings" coming out of it. This is the only one that has them. Looks like parasites to me, probably secri since we know what zuzucri infection looks in quite great detail and it's not like this. This is not particularly surprising, we know Akizet dealt with things like this as a surface runner, though I suppose this could hint to how her larval death went. Also to be noted, this hallucination lacks the hole in the chest multiple other hallucinations which depict someone "infected" have. This leads me to believe this is a larval obesk, as opposed to a qou, who can't even get infected by secri.

Last thing I'd like to add is that this thing kind of looks like... a weird amalgamation of multiple obesk. The 3 legs all look like they were taken from different bodies, and also it kind of looks like it had a second head that got decapitated? So like I said when I was talking about the mystery tir receptors, maybe this isn't a specific individual, but a mixed representation of a parasitic infection? Like the multiple victims, all having fallen prey to the same hivemind, now are fused and melted together into one monster. But I'm actually really unsure about this. I promise I'm more confident with the other ones, this one is just really confusing to me for some reason!

Bozko

Okay, this one is quite interesting. I'll first get out of the way what I think this is not.

This guy clearly has jut receptors. But I don't belive it's Cavik or Tozik, since it doesn't look like either of them beyond anything extremely superficial.

As for I do think it is... this is Vekoa. Appearance wise, I'd say she fits.

The receptors are the same, the one eye, and the cape (?) thing behing the hallucination isn't too far from Vekoa's clothing. Also, this hallucination is a qou, since it has a hole in the chest, denoting the destroyed mindcore and hijacked body.

Though beyond just looks I do believe it also makes sense from a character standpoint. Everyone at this point would be scared of Vekoa, since all clues lead to her spearheading the collapse, however Bozko seems to dread her the most out of anybody. He multiple times mentions how he thinks she's to blame for the entire tragedy. He zeroes in on eliminating Vekoa being the solution to everything, to the point he starts sounding somewhat sinister, definitely concerning. Obviously the situation was much more complicated, however Bozko is unstable and needs to anchor himself to anything in order to stay present, and burdened by his past as he is, that anchor seems to be protecting the team and culling the infection. To him, Vekoa is the root of it, and technically he isn't wrong, but his way of thinking and processing the situation is very dangerous. He has tunnel vision on the idea that he is alone, alone with the monster, with the predator, with Vekoa, that it's him and him only that needs to bear the responsibility of taking her on, because he fucked that up in his life, so now he needs to set the record straight in his death.

Overall, what at first seems like a twisted representation of Vekoa slowly becomes a representation of Bozko's self destructive, self punishing spiral.

(I could talk about this guy for so long but it's so hard because his story touches on some real personal stuff for me. He just like me frfr but honestly it's not even funny anymore why are the pixels on the screen stealing words from my mouth)

Cavik

Do I. Do I need to say anything. Seriously.

I think the fact that this is so obvious fits Cavik. He's always been so open about himself and his ideas, to the point it can become... problematic.

Seeing how important Akizet is to him like this is quite sad. Losing her could very well be his greatest fear, especially losing her in such a violent, terrible (haha get it. Because terrible life. Parasites?) manner.

What I would like to point out is that while Cavik's hallucination is clearly Akizet, Cavik is nowhere near close to being Akizet's hallucination. Just something to think about. Their dynamic is healthy and will definitely not degrade in time because of Events that have transpired.

IK Golem

(Or well, Karik, since Itzil is asleep at this point) (right) (they're asleep right) (I'm not misremembering this no? 0_0)

Well, this is Gakvu! Funny thing, girl is featured in a whopping 3 hallucinations. Congratulations?? I think???

Now, I will not give this one too much thought. It's just a Gakvu turned into a husk. The "real" hallucination of Karik appears only after the Pale Halls are unlocked.

Hey girl.

This is Telyu! The fact that the hallucination changes is so cool. Yeah, but I don't have much to say here either. Karik is scared of losing a close friend. Painfully normal fear for a painfully normal kiv. What is interesting is that Telyu retains Gakvu's melted leg. I don't think that means anything, but I thought I'd mention it.

Gakvu

Huh. Looks like she couldn't be bothered to even come up with a hallucination for herself. I'm joking.

Now, here, this is less based on actual clues and more just me interpreting something. I think this creature represents the Conflict as a whole. Gakvu always thinks of the bigger picture, so her fear being this Conflict itself fits. And, even visually, I'd say it fits. It's a ambiguous mass, with many eyes, many claws, a great thing that only works because so many minds are dedicated to senseless fighting, stuck in their ways of thinking, a ball that in it's own stubbornness throws itself down the hill, only to inevitably get hurt, only for inevitably tragedy to strike. This stubbornness to stay in your old ways, this closed off way of thinking, is what Gakvu resents, is what she ultimately fears, because she knows how destructive they can be. From the trauma of how she was raised (yes, trauma, she may act cool, but it clearly greatly affects her) in the structurist way, to the imminent threat of her execution (I do hope she doesn't die that way. She'll definitely die, I just hope she gets to do it on her own terms) she's always lived with the fear of a much greater entity out to get her.

An interesting thing, her hallucination and Bozko's kind of parallel eachother? Or are moreso foils? Bozko's is the immediate problem, Vekoa, the person propagating this infection, but Gakvu's is the Conflict itself, the bigger picture. It's cool to see how they view their situation in such different ways, both of their ways of thinking being both useful, but also potentially dangerous. I generally tend to think of Bozko and Gakvu as foils to eachother in one way or another, but that's another discussion entirely.

Miltza

Miltza. MiltzaMiltzaMiltza. Sigh.

Again, this is one of the very obvious ones. Though it's cool that you can cross reference this with another hallucination of Gakvu, the one IK has. It really shows how Miltza sees Gakvu, even if she tries to be reasonable, not as a qou, as an individual, but as a saboteur, as an instrument for mayhem and strife. Instead of the hole in the chest, the hand symbol is shown, a mark of Gakvu's alliance. Miltza literally doesn't see her heart.

Obviously I don't think Miltza is that vile. She clearly was... trying. And Gakvu herself seems to recognize as much, unfortunately by then it's too late and she's gone. But the hallucinations are the worst a mind can conceive, so I don't think she's really to blame for this.

Miltza you certainly were a character. Bon voyage girl you were kinda crazy for believing in allat <3

Tozik

Last but definitely, definitely not least.

This is. Okay. It's not okay.

Obviously the figure in the left is Bozko, the one on the right is Gakvu, the one in the middle could be Cavik, but it could also be Tozik himself. The receptors could literally be either of them. Yes, they have a curve, which would be Cavik, but the style in which the hallucinations are present seems to kinda hate the straight lines and angles of the Ekivik style sooo... it's a bit hard to tell? Either way, I think both interpretations carry similar enough meaning.

Tozik cares. A lot. He always did, Akizet was just terrible at reading him (to nobody's surprise). When his fear gets extracted out of him and made manifest, it's a corrupted, lost version of his closest friends. While he seems to keep everyone at an arm's length, his friendship with Bozko gets outright stated and it's clear he was closer to Gakvu too. (As for Cavik, if that is indeed him, I guess they shared a caste and had similar duties so maybe they worked together more?? I don't know. Their tie doesn't seem as personal as the other 2 so that's another reason I tend to lean into that being Tozik himself)

And now? Now, beyond everything else happening, he has to witness these 2 friends deteriorate more and more, Bozko's struggle being obvious, and the cracks starting to show in Gakvu's façade too. Ironically, he is the first to start physically deteriorating, and at a much faster pace, a little later on. Maybe because this hallucination doesn't have the chest hole, this isn't the fear of them becoming husks, but rather the fear of them succumbing to their own internal struggles and losing it?

Another interesting detail, this hallucination seems to have blood on its hands. This is the only one with such a detail. It obviously means something. I don't know what, but it must mean something.

Conclusion??

Hi are you still with me. No. Ok :)

But really, if you somehow read this far I really appreciate you <3<3<3

I would like to add something. I'm not on the discord (too scared :( ) and I've never really participated in online discussions yet. I've never seen anybody else speak so in depth about this topic specifically yet, however obviously I could have missed something. So if I just stated a bunch of obvious shit everyone knew already I'm soooorryyy. I tried to give it my own flare okay☆☆☆

Overall I'm glad to finally get all this info off my chest and into the void of tumblr. I definitely have more to say about other things and maybe I will in the future!! I was thinking about writing some of my thoughts on each character respectively, maybe.

And once again thank you for reading and good night is 3 in the morning for me and I need to get up in 3 hours <3

[gamecube-stims]

fracture ( oc ) stimboard with pink mineral stims , black rock stims , arcade stims / fnaf stims for day 1 of @ / vampire-bat-stims anniversary event

x - x - x / x - x - x / x - x - x

[esotericdogboy]

okayokay YES Needles is made of needles, but what kind exactly?? hypodermic, darning, tapestry, knitting???

wrong. it’s these actually

[mechazushi]

Fortitude Privilege {Staring Yu/Na and Base Inspector} (A short story)

After everything had settled down, they let Kafka do what-the-fuck-ever. That also includes snuggling on his boyfriend at anytime during work hours.

Vice Captain Hoshina was the first to leave the training room when Iharu passed by with a new recruit. He was showing her around the expansive base when he was presented with an opportunity to have a down to earth meet-and-greet with the base's second in command.

"Hey! Vice Cap! Good timing. Yunna, this is our Vice Captain Hoshina. Vice-Cap, this is Yunna. She's a transfer from Division Seven." Iharu took the lead on the introductions while the two of them were exchanging salutes. They all began trading questions with each other, busy distracting themselves with platitudes to not notice another person turning a corner and coming up behind Hoshina. A tall, burly, and clearly tired individual shambled up behind the vice captain and slumped over his shoulder unceremoniously, almost knocking him over.

"Oof, Kafka! Is everything okay?" Hoshina said calmly at the intruder. The man he called Kafka just wrapped his arms lopsidedly around Hoshina's left shoulder as he dug his face into the crook of his neck on the right.

" 'M fine. Drained" He mumbled incoherently, sacrificing vowels in his state of exhaustion. He nuzzled his nose affectionately in the curve of Hoshina's neck and took a noticeable whiff. "New cologne's nice."

Yunna, the new recruit, became visibly flushed as she continued to stare on. Iharu was already completely desensitized to this and just continued his conversation with the Vice Captain. Noticing the state of shock on the newcomer, Iharu took a second to explain what was happening.

"This is Kafka Hibino. He's the Captain's and Vice Captain's boyfriend. Everyone has learned to just let him get away with this bullshit." Iharu smiled cheekily at Yunna after he had finished.

"What am I supposed to do when he's like this? Tell him 'No'?" Hoshina said as he crossed his arms. He felt the rumbling of deep throated laughter coming from the man on his shoulder.

"Conveniently leaving out the fact that I'm also a kaiju." Kafka said as he lifted his head a little just to speak clearly. Yunna made a small squeak of surprise as the revelation made all the pieces click into place.

Down the hallway behind Iharu, everyone could hear another person aggressively shouting as they came down their direction.

"Aw, shit." Hoshina whispered under his breath.

"Who's that?" Iharu questioned as he turned around to look.

"Base Inspector. Probably looking for me to bitch about something inane." Hoshina continued. Iharu took that as a sign to whisk the new person off to a different location, sensing a need to disappear before he got themselves caught in possible corporate crossfire. Hoshina prepped his best Resting Bitch Face as the lanky inspector approached viciously.

"Afternoon, Inspector." Hoshina said in a deadpan manner. He took a longer look at the man coming toward him and noticed he recognized none of the man's features.

'Hmm. I wonder if he's new?' Hoshina thought. His hopes were raised a little, thinking that this possibly new base inspector wouldn't have the same stick up his ass like the last two did.

"Vice Captain Hoshina. Just the person I was looking for." The inspector called out. He opened his mouth to begin what was most certainly about to be a mindless rant concerning some slighted offence over some breach in paperwork or protocol, but quickly shut it when he noticed Kafka making no move to acknowledge his presence.

"Well, I was going to bring up your continued disregard to execute less leniency toward how officers structure their reports, but now it seems I should take over instilling basic officer conduct as well." The Base Inspector straightened his square framed glasses and leveled the most demeaning glare at the tired, hairy, lump that had made its place on Hoshina's shoulder.

"Oh, lay off. He said he's tired." Hoshina countered. He was beginning to wonder if a mightier-than-thou attitude was a requirement to being an inspector.

"Lethargy is no excuse for blatant indifference to higher authority." The stringy looking man sniffed haughtily. A threatening, rolling, and loud inhuman growl emanated from Kafka, still not looking up from his place at Hoshina's side. Hoshina chuckled as he ruffled his hair while he talked to him.

"Mind being a dear and head up to Mina's office for a bit? The only adult in the room needs to discipline this child, apparently." Hoshina spoke in hushed tones, sounding incredibly loving into Kafka's ear. Only a more disappointed growling whimper was heard in response.

"You could beg for more cuddles if she's in there." Hoshina sang quietly as he nosed Kafka's hair. The slacked-spined man lifted his head to stare disapprovingly at the unwanted interloper before planting a smooch to his Vice Captain's cheek and walked away, radiating an irritated aura all the way down the hall. The two that were left followed his path and waited for him to turn around a corner before continuing the discussion.

"You do know that having a relationship between a higher authority figure and an officer is prohibited, correct?" The inspector said as he turned back to face Hoshina.

"You know that man has a fortitude rating, correct?" Hoshina snarked.

"Don't you mean an aptitude rating?" The inspector returned wearily.

"No, fortitude." Hoshina reiterated firmly as he stepped closer into the inspector's personal space, " Ya'know, because he's a kaiju and all." The inspector tried not to express it, but he seemed taken aback. first from the clear hostility, then from realizing what Hoshina meant.

The inspector's lips flapped open and closed for a moment before letting slip a small, simple "oh."

"Were you not made aware that we had such a person within our ranks?" Hoshina asked poignantly.

"I was made very aware of such personnel." The inspector said as he adjusted his glasses again, "What I wasn't made aware of was how much leniency he seems to be permitted to have because of such an obscenely paltry standing." The inspector spoke with baseless higher authority, attempting to recover from finding himself on the back step. Hoshina could feel his lips being stretched thin over his teeth as he felt the need to use them to rip the throat out of this obstinate and unwarranted trespasser.

"Then you should have also been made aware of how that man had not only saved the lives of millions, but also saved the planet six times over consecutively." While being shorter than the inspector, Hoshina did a fine job of making it seem like he was towering over the other man.

" As... notable... as those achievements are, it shouldn't take away the fact that a relationship between an officer and a Vice Captain is unconducive to to the workplace since it could be used to unjustly gather sway in one's ranking." The base inspector held his position in the conversation, but was forced to slink down in height as he cowered under Hoshina's invasive presence.

"Ohh, trust me. The higher ups have made it very clear that he's already achieved the highest ranking they'll allow him, and that's being an exploitable weapon." Wrath tinged the edges of his words as he managed to climb higher over the base inspector.

"There is nothing in this world that he hasn't earned by not working his ass off for. So excuse me for thinking that the least he's owed is the right to express some fuckin' PDA." Hoshina could feel the tips of his lips curl into an unfriendly smile with an uncanny amount of teeth showing.

"If you really want to drag rank over this and piss off a man who's capable of leveling all of Western Japan for no decent reason, be my guest. If you have nothing drastically important to talk about, like something that's impeding the health and wellness of my officers, then I bid you farewell and hope your day is as wonderful as you are." Hoshina reclined back onto his heels and crisply marched away from the inspector, who still wasn't recovered from the invasion of personal space and was stuck being slant backwards, even as Hoshina moved out of eyesight.

Minutes later, Hoshina had found himself in Mina's office. Hoping to join in on Kafka's sudden bout of needed physical closure, he slipped past the threshold and quietly dumped his gym bag next to the door. Taking up most of the center of the room in front of the desk, was Mina, sandwiched between Bakko and Kafka. Reclined against the tiger formed monster, Mina looked silently overjoyed to have an asleep Kafka nestled between her legs as he rested his head on her stomach. Laying tilted on his side, the left portion of his face was buried in Mina's clothes while his arms had dug a hold around her midsection, framing his head. A low vibration hung in the air, getting louder as Hoshina snuck over.

"Need me to pry him off?" Hoshina lovingly muttered into Mina's forehead as he planted a small smooch as well.

"Later. Now, I need you to grab my phone!" Mina tried to contain her excitement as quietly as she could while gently brushing her free hand through Kafka's hair, the other being trapped under his heavy shoulder.

"Yes, he looks adorable, doesn't he?" Hoshina playfully rolled his eyes as he made moves to stand up.

"Well, yes, but you can't tell me you can't hear this?" Mina's smile was wide as she looked up at Hoshina. He took a second to listen as he processed the low rumble in the room.

"Is... is that not Bakko purring?" Hoshina questioned.

"No, he's awake!" Mina harshly whispered in joy as she jabbed her finger behind her, "This is all him!" She pointed her finger again at Kafka, emphasizing her revelation.

Hoshina made a quiet, deep throated cackle as he comically tiptoed around her desk to grab the phone and pull up the camera. He managed to settle onto the floor and shimmy his way under Mina's free arm as he held the camera close to Kafka's face. They got at least a good minute of audio, starring his purrs before Hoshina decided to end it there, not wanting to push their luck.

"It's a shame he can't purr all the time. Instead of the sleep talking, I mean." Mina commented as Hoshina made himself more comfortable in their embrace on the floor.

"We wouldn't be able to get out of bed in the morning if he did." Hoshina muttered sleepily as he finally stopped shifting when he found a good spot to settle into. Mina brushed his hair for a second while she returned the forehead kiss from earlier before relaxing into the warm and heavy pile she had unintentionally made for herself.

@iceclew

I hate to ask this from ya, but... Have you seen this yet? If you didn't have an opinion one way or another, that's fine. Just wanted to ask.

[markantonys]

day 71 of asking why reddit has suddenly become convinced that the 'finn and mat's rhuidean trip are a waste of time and easily cut, and that season 3 will obviously feature him splitting off from the friends he just reunited with in order to spend the entire season dicking around with thom and getting into shenanigans, as that is much more important to his overall character arc than his 2-book waste arc

like there have been SO MANY posts like this lately and all of them are filled with comments of universal agreement! am i having a stroke? what the hell is going on???? i'll admit mat doesn't have a huge amount of specific stuff to do in the waste aside from rhuidean, but rhuidean is crucial to his character and s2 had Mat-Finn Connection Foreshadowing out the wazoo, plus the waste plotline is MUCH more fertile ground for creating additional Specific Mat Stuff and enhancing his character development & relationships with other main characters than his TDR plotline of dicking around with thom is.

[rahabs]

I’m glad my expectations for Veilguard were low, especially from a writing perspective, because instead of anger now I only feel disappointment that even my already low bar wasn’t met.

[teethbomb]

hrrnnggg digital circus…

[abyssembraced]

Making You the Patron Saint of Something

Patron Saint of Creation

Patron saint of explosions. Patron saint of More. Patron saint of something new entirely. Something unfamiliar, something you can't recognize. Was Frankenstein's monster an abomination or had his like just never been seen before? You're the patron saint of all those new, beautiful things. You're the patron saint of the monsters, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Patron Saint of Bones

Patron saint of frameworks. Of structures. Of solidity. Patron saint of things that break. Patron saint of things that are left behind. The bones survive long after the body, the building: what is there left for them, when the rest is gone? What do bones do, with nothing to hold around them? Who holds the bones?

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagged by: @distrxst (thank you!)

Tagging: Back at it again with tagging Everyone <3 And again, if you have multiple rp blogs, absolutely feel free to do it for one other than the one I tagged!! @bladesfromthedark , @legalbrats , @tazmilyxfamily , @pri-rp , @hopeful-hugz , @quillheel , @musescfmusic , @interdimensional-ship

[prompt-master]

I think you're a Leo kinnie

What you mean by this changes DRASTICALLY depending on which version you mean

[albireon]

sketchin

[anghimalaaynasapuso]

DISCORD BOYFRIEND KÖNIG

sfw + nsfw. this is just an amalgamation of all my ideas

könig has never been one for putting his face on social media. even before the scars that pull at the skin of his cheek, reshaping his expression in ways he’s never fully grown used to, the idea of being seen, really seen, has never sat right with him. there’s a certain comfort in anonymity, in keeping the world at arm’s length. easier that way. safer.

that unease, paired with what some might consider his more nerdy interests, means he gravitates toward spaces like discord rather than the highly curated feeds of instagram or facebook. there, he doesn’t have to worry about photos or videos— just a username, and a presence in text.

his handle is simple: king 👑. a nod to the name he’s carried for so long, stripped of rank, stripped of weight.

even in the server where he’s most active, he keeps things vague, blending into discussions about games, military history, or whatever niche interest has caught his attention that week.

every now and then, he’ll let something slip— a mention of deployment, an offhand comment, disappearing for months at a time, only to return with a sudden burst of activity. some put the pieces together. most don’t. and könig prefers it that way. it’s easier to let them think he’s just another guy with spotty internet.

your first interaction is rather simple in retrospect.

he’s back after weeks of recon, shaking off the mission like dirt from his boots, easing into the familiarity of a gaming server he’s called home for years.

it’s not a small server, so new people come and go. he does his usual routine— an automated, slightly impersonal welcome but what he doesn’t expect is the sheer enthusiasm in return.

“hi!!!!”

he stares at the message for a second, counting the exclamation marks. three. four. five? a small smile tugs at his lips before he even realizes it.

it doesn’t take long before you’re at his metaphorical side, sending a friend request before the conversation even shifts from your college courses.

the older members tease him. something about his last deployment scrambling his head enough to take a newbie under his wing. he lets them talk. he doesn’t mind.

soon enough, you’re in his private messages, dramatically lamenting your latest loss in a game he’s only vaguely familiar with. könig listens— well, reads— as you rant, words spilling out at a rapid-fire pace, interspersed with keyboard smashing and increasingly incoherent frustration.

he’s not much for new releases, preferring to sink his teeth into a single game for months on end, grinding away until mastery is muscle memory. still-

one evening, without preamble, he sends you a link. his profile. in your game.

the response is immediate. ‘king!!! 🥺’ you type, followed by an onslaught of keyboard mashing that takes up half his screen.

he exhales a short laugh, shaking his head. he wonders if you know how easy it is to make him grin like an idiot.

the calls are… an unexpected development.

könig doesn’t make a habit to join server calls. ever. it’s not even about anxiety, not really, just preference. too many voices, too much noise. he never expected to be comfortable enough with anyone to want to be in a call, let alone initiate one.

but when you start gaming together, it becomes a necessity. typing mid-match isn’t exactly efficient, and you’re the first to point that out.

“okay, listen, king, i am not about to lose another ranked match just because you take five years to type ‘behind you.’” he huffs, amused, but relents.

soon enough, calls become second nature— no longer tied to gaming, no longer requiring an excuse. you always ask first, polite thing that you are, and könig always agrees. sometimes it’s an unspoken invitation, a simple “call?” sent in the quiet hours of the night. sometimes he beats you to it, pressing the button before he can think too hard about it.

one time, it’s you who calls. he answers on the first ring.

“are you- wait.” you pause, listening. there’s a distinct, rhythmic thud-thud-thud in the background. not footsteps, but something heavier, more controlled. “are you on a treadmill?”

“mm.” his voice is steady, unaffected. a quiet confirmation.

you gasp, and he can practically hear the amusement brewing in your tone. “oh my god! you actually work out? i thought you were lying.”

he snorts, breath hitching slightly as he adjusts his pace. “why would i lie about that?”

“i don’t know! you just- i mean, you sit at your desk all day, playing the same game for hours, and you’re always online at weird times-”

“you are describing yourself,” he points out.

“shut up.”

there’s a pause, and then, with the kind of mischief that only comes from knowing exactly how to push his buttons, you add, “prove it.”

he slows to a walk, swiping open his phone. a moment later, you receive a picture. him, flexing. the lighting is dim, but you can still make out the cut of his forearm, the solid shape of his bicep. just to humor you, he throws up a peace sign.

“not stolen from pinterest.”

you burst into laughter so sudden and bright that he finds himself smiling before he can stop it.

you learn what it means to miss könig pretty early on.

it happens suddenly. one day, he’s there, active as usual, sending the occasional meme, idling in voice chat even if he’s not talking. the next? radio silence. not even a ‘typing…’ indicator.

at first, you don’t think much of it. maybe he’s sleeping in. maybe he’s busy. time zones are weird. it’s fine.

but then a whole day passes. then another. you check his status— nothing. not offline, not do not disturb, just… gone.

curiosity turns into concern, and before you can think better of it, you ask in the server.

“hey, anyone heard from king?”

the response is casual. unbothered. “oh, dude’s probably deployed again.”

you blink. reread the message. “deployed?”

“yeah, king’s military.”

there’s no warning for the way that statement knocks the air from your lungs.

military? as in, real-life combat? as in, war zones and danger and actual life-or-death situations?

you stare at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure what to even say to that.

he doesn’t resurface for weeks.

you don’t realize how much you’ve come to rely on his presence until it’s gone. his absence is loud in the quiet moments of your day, in the spaces where a message from him would normally be.

you check the server out of habit, catching yourself before you can search his username. it’s stupid, you think. you barely know him. he’s just some guy from a discord server.

but the worry lingers.

and then, one day, just like that— he’s back.

his return is as unceremonious as his disappearance.

no dramatic entrance, no fanfare. just a simple “hello.”

you see it the moment he sends it. your stomach flips.

before you can stop yourself, you send a private message. “you’re alive.”

a moment passes. then— “yes.”

you frown. “you were gone for weeks.”

“i know.”

frustration bubbles up. “you could’ve said something.”

“i couldn’t.”

you hesitate, fingers tightening around your phone. you don’t know what you were expecting. an explanation? reassurance? but it’s clear you’re not getting one.

but then, a follow-up message. one that feels heavier, more careful. “i’m sorry.”

and just like that, the irritation dissolves.

it’s strange, the way things slip back into place after that.

he doesn’t talk about it, and you don’t ask. but something shifts. after that deployment, könig starts telling you when he’ll be gone. nothing in detail, really. just a simple, “i’ll be away for a bit.”

(it means everything.)

slowly, you get used to it. the rhythm of his presence and absence, the way your conversations pick up right where they left off, as if no time has passed at all.

it goes on for months. this… thing between the two of you. könig doesn’t hesitate to call it friendship, though he knows, knows, it’s something else entirely.

something with edges softer than companionship, something that lingers in the pauses between conversation, in the way you had whispered his real name under your breath when he revealed it to you.

he doesn’t rush to name it. doesn’t push. he lets it simmer until it feels inevitable.

in the end, it’s you who breaks first. technically. not that he’s keeping score. not that he would ever rub it in your face, especially when he was a mere day away from asking the very same thing.

it starts with a message. no preamble, no buildup. just a simple: hey, what are we?

könig sees it and reacts before thinking. presses the call button so fast his thumb practically smashes the screen. it rings once, twice—

“you didn’t even ask.” your voice comes through, half exasperated, half amused.

“didn’t want to give you time to unsend.” his own voice is steady, but his heart is anything but.

you huff. “bold assumption.”

“not really.”

a pause. he hears you shift, fabric rustling, the sound of you settling in. something warm and slow uncoils in his chest at the familiarity of it.

“so,” you start, hesitant. “what’s your answer?”

könig exhales, tipping his head back against his pillow. “do you want the truth?”

“obviously.”

he hums, considering. in reality, he’s known the truth for a while now. probably before you even realized it yourself.

“i like you,” he says, simple, sure. then, because he knows you, because he knows your deflections, your habit of teasing when you get nervous, he adds, “and i’m very aware you like me back.”

you sputter. “that’s a bold assumption-”

“not really,” he repeats, smug this time.

you groan, but you’re laughing, and it sends something bright flickering through him.

könig doesn’t ask for nudes. not once. he flirts, he teases, but never pushes. he knows your boundaries, respects them, never even hints at wanting more. if anything, he’s careful. too careful, sometimes. like he’s afraid of crossing a line you haven’t even drawn.

so when you finally send something, it’s your choice.

the first picture is tame. barely anything. it's a shot of your thighs, soft and warm in the low light of your room. nothing scandalous. nothing too revealing. but the second you hit send, your stomach twists with nerves.

könig sees it immediately. you watch the typing bubble appear, disappear, then appear again. and then— “fuck.”

you grin. “good?”

“you have no idea.”

it only escalates from there.

könig never requests more. but when you send it, when you want to send it, his reaction is worth it. he worships you through the screen, tells you how beautiful you are, how much he wishes he could touch you.

“pretty,” he texts once, attached to a voice message.

you press play. his breath is ragged, like he’s just run a mile. “pretty thing,” he repeats, voice tinged with something almost reverent. “you’re going to ruin me, love.”

the first time he sends you something, it takes him forever to work up to it.

you don’t ask for it. wouldn’t dream of pushing him into something he’s not comfortable with. könig isn’t shy, necessarily, but he’s private. you know that by now.

so when, out of nowhere, a picture pops up on your screen, your brain short-circuits.

it’s cropped carefully, but there’s no mistaking what you’re looking at— bare skin, broad shoulders, his stomach flexed just slightly.

“you like?” he texts after a minute.

you swallow hard. “yes.”

“good.” and then— “more?”

you bite your lip. “please.”

könig gets bolder after that.

he sends more. never too much, always teasing, always just enough to leave you wanting. sometimes it’s his hands, sometimes it’s his abs, the sharp cut of his hip bones, the waistband of his sweatpants hanging just low enough to make your mouth water.

one night, he sends a voice message instead. you press play.

at first, all you hear is his breathing. then, slowly, softly— your name, whispered through a noise that makes heat bloom low in your stomach.

“wish you were here,” he murmurs. “wish you could see what you do to me.”

the actual nudes don’t take long. not ar all. you’re both desperate. buzzing. könig’s the one who caves first.

it starts with your text. 10 p.m., the hour where inhibitions slip through grasping fingers like sand.

“wanna see your cock so bad, könig…” you murmur to your propped phone, cheek pressed to your pillow, another one stuffed against your chest like it might replace the hollow ache between your ribs. a distraction. a poor substitute.

on the other side of the screen, he exhales, dragging a hand down his face. fingers tensing, then flexing, like he needs something to hold onto. “love-” your whine cuts through before he can even think. instinctive. needy. his stomach clenches. “okay, okay. as long as you're sure.”

his heart pounds as he opens his photos. he doesn’t exactly collect dick pics, but there are a few kept locked away, private albums, a passcode he suddenly fumbles to enter.

three minutes. that’s how long it takes to choose the best one. the right angle. the right lighting. enough to make your breath hitch when you see it.

he hits send before he can overthink it, then leans back, phone balanced on his thigh, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

your phone buzzes. the photo pops up. you blink, breath hitching sharp in your throat.

“oh my god.” the words spill out of you before you can even think to stop them. “könig…” you stare at the screen, gaze locked on the thick, heavy length of him. the way it curves slightly, resting against his thigh like it’s weighed down by its own sheer mass. your breath stutters.

“you're so fucking big.” it barely registers that you've said it aloud.

“yeah? you like it?

“like it?” you shoot back. “i want it inside me.”

his breath leaves him in one harsh exhale. he shifts, hips rolling involuntarily like he can feel your words on his skin.

“can i see you too?” he sounds so polite. and then, as if that wasn’t enough to twist the knife deeper— “please?”

your stomach flips. you bite your lip, already reaching for your phone camera, the need to show him everything burning through you like wildfire.

your breath comes shallow as you slip your hand lower, phone steady in the other. the need is a pulse under your skin, throbbing, insistent. you pull the covers back just enough, the cool air prickling against the heat between your thighs.

the camera catches everything. your slightly parted thighs, your swollen clit, the wetness gushing out of your hole. it feels like baring a secret you’ve never told anyone. you hesitate for half a second, heart racing, then hit send.

the second the message disappears from your screen, it hits you— you just sent that to him.

on his end, könig freezes. the photo loads slow, torturous, and when it finally pops up, he feels his whole body tense, blood rushing south so fast it’s dizzying. “f-fuck, i need to be inside of you-”

sex with könig, if you can even call it that, at first, sneaks up on you. you never thought you’d be the kind of person who got into this. sending texts that made your face burn, leaving voice messages you could barely listen back to without cringing. but with him, it’s different. easier. less embarrassing because it’s him.

still, going from nudes to actual phone sex takes some time.

“gonna sleep,” könig texts you once, attached to a blurry photo of his bed.

“alone?” you send back, teasing.

the typing bubble appears. then disappears. then— “obviously.”

you grin at your phone, satisfied. but then— “but i could use some company.”

you stare at the message longer than you’d like to admit.

in the past, you hadn't told him how many times you’d dreamt of him because you thought you'd scare him off, kept your mouth shut about the images that haunted you at night, of his hands pinning you down, his mouth at your throat.

didn't tell him that you had woken up panting, arousal between your thighs, könig’s name on your lips too many times. didn't tell him that you had pressed your hand against your clit during your calls, to the sound of his voice, to his laugh, to the quiet, wrecked groans he sometimes lets out when he stretches after a workout.

but you wanted to.

and tonight, you would.

the conversation turns slow. lazy. heavy with something unspoken.

“you sound tired,” könig murmurs, voice warm. he’s always like this late at night. soft, unhurried, like he’s sinking into the sound of you.

you swallow hard. your skin feels too hot, too tight. “i’m not.”

a pause. then, lower— “what is it, love?”

you hesitate, pressing your lips together. it’s too much. too embarrassing. but he knows something is different.

“talk to me. tell me what you’re thinking.”

you let out a shaky breath. “i had a dream about you.”

the silence stretches.

you can hear him inhale. you bite your lip. force yourself to continue. “i think about you. when i-” you stop. you can’t say it. can’t admit it.

könig exhales through his nose, like he’s trying to steady himself. “when you what?”

your stomach is a knot of nerves. but you want this. want him. so you take a breath, close your eyes. “when i touch myself.”

his breath stutters.

“fuck.” the word is almost a groan. your pulse hammers, blood rushing through your ear as heat pools in your stomach.

“könig,” you whisper.

he exhales, whispers his next words like a beg, “say it again.”

you swallow. “i touch myself to you.”

“i do too.”

your stomach flips. “what?”

“i-” he cuts himself off with a quiet curse, like he's frustrated with himself for hesitating. “i touch myself to you too.”

your breath catches. heat blooms in your chest, spreading down your spine. “könig-”

“all the time.” his voice is lower now, raw, like he's aching with it. “when i can't sleep. when you're on call with me, laughing, teasing me. when i wake up hard in the middle of the night and can’t stop thinking about stuffing you full.”

your body is burning again, despite the aftershocks still rolling through you. you're about to choke out a reply when you hear it— the rustle of fabric, the faint creak of bedsprings, the wet slide of skin on skin.

“are you-”

a sharp inhale. “yes.”

“let me hear you,” you whisper, thinking about his pretty, pretty cock. uncut, soft skin stretched over the flushed head, the way it would slide back when he’s fully hard, revealing the deep pink of his leaking tip. the veins that wind down the length, standing out against the pale skin

there's a pause, a hitch in his breath. then, slowly— “okay.”

there's a small rustle, könig adjusting himself on the bed. the faint sound of him pumping lotion on his hand. a quiet sigh. and then, a low grunt as the warmth of his palm wraps around his cock.

könig looks down at his hand, eyes half-lidded, hips bucking up in small thrusts. he imagines your pussy instead of his fist, hot and tight and so fucking warm, fluttering around his length as he pushes in, spearing you open with a cock too big for your little cunny.

he knows you’d cry for him, little gasps and hiccupped moans, squirming beneath him as he bullies his cock deeper, past that tight ring of muscle into the slick, warm clutch of your cunt.

“a-ah- fuck, ah-”

your breath stutters at the sounds, hips grinding against your palm. “wish i could see you.”

“on cam?”

you groan, squeezing your thighs around the pillow in-between your legs, grinding your clit against the material softly. “yes, please..”

fuck, you're so polite.

[g-k444]

From one slut to another, would love to be invited by my "friends" to play drink and games, only to end up tied and blindfolded as they smack my pussy and fuck me while making my guess who is who. If I guess wrong I'm not allowed to cum and will be spanked more and if I'm right...well I can't really stop them from forcing me to take their dicks and abuse, can I??

ohhh yes, you get the EXACT vibes girl..

"from one slut to another" has me fantasizing, thinking it'd be kinda hot to get fucked and used with another lil whore too

yk, being commanded and told what to do with you for their entertainment:

"go on, show what good sluts you are and play with each others' tits"

your boyfriend's friends rub up their shafts as they watch us, as between sniffs and quiet sobs we oblige and follow their instructions in fear - horrified at the way they let out noises of pleasure as you push your chest into mine, making your hard nipples push into my own soft breasts as I move my tits to sway and slap into yours

it's futile however, as regardless of the way that we play with one another for their entertainment - I'm still ripped away from you - and you from me, as someone shoved their cock into me and starts fucking me from behind whilst the same happens to you opposite me

im forced to have someone unwantedly fuck into my pussy whilst looking forwards - unable to tell who's even fucking me - and watch you in the exact same position, having your body fucked like a ragdoll and watching you cry and scream, just as helpless as I.

"lick her pussy, go on, clean all that cum up."

youre made to crawl to me whilst i lay on my back, broken from the fucking id endured, giving my pussy no avail as you yourself are forced to dip your tongue between my folds and pull away with the mens' white seed - still hot from ejaculation - covering your tongue, before you swallow it and lower your head back between my thighs to lap between my legs and clean my pussy of the amalgamation of my slick and the cum from all the other mens' release into me

but still, the audience is insatiable, and i let out a scream as i feel my body being lifted - yours as well - and another man holds my legs to stop my kicking and slot my legs between yours so that our thighs are interlocked, intimate parts flush with one anothers'

"c'mon, now scissor and share our cum between yourselves"

it's so degrading - and i can feel the tears rising to my eyes as i make no effort to move - my pussy so broken and sore from all the mens' fucking and then having you lick at my core... and you don't want to do it either.

But we're left with no choice again, as a pair of arms seizes the both of us from behind and starts making us scissor manually. picking us up and pushing us back together so that our pussies squelch and smush against each other, sharing the cum that still drips from between your legs and coating my pussy with it, painting my pussy white once more from the second-hand sperm that was once lodged within your fuckhole

...like, from one slut to another, would that not be so fucking hot??

[arolesbianism]

I need to find new eternal gales songs right now I cannot keep living with most of the playlist being shit I listened to in 2018

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141!(Part 5)

The shithead owner decides that he needs to sign up for a "restaurant renovation" show. Chaos ensues.

"A fucking TV show?"

Gaz frowns while polishing glasses.

"Told him it was a bad idea."

Price shrugs, lighting a cigar. You are horrified, being on the screen for millions of people to see was nerve wracking. And it'll be the first time you meet the owner.

"Restaurant renovation... Lik' he gives twa fucks aboot renovating this shitehole."

Johnny ashes his smoke and passes it to you. You take a deep drag and sigh, this is gonna be a disaster.

~

Cameras are set up everywhere, everyone's mic'd up, there are too many people in too small of a space. Some obnoxiously loud man introduces himself. He seems to be an amalgamation of every TV host you've ever seen, wearing too much cologne and too much hair gel. He puts a hand on your shoulder,

"The place looks terrible but at least they got something nice to look at here."

He flashes a smile, cheap veneer blindingly white. You awkwardly laugh while Price steps in, introducing himself. You scurry away to the back where the rest of the boys are,

"I want everyone to be on their best behavior today. No fucking around. Don't make me look bad."

The owner is a bland man, average height and weight, with a shitty haircut and wearing an ugly flashy shirt. He turns around and briefly introduces himself, he already smells like liquor. Great. He gets waved over to get interviewed by the host. You and the guys watch from the other end of the restaurant. It's quite embarrassing, the host pointing out how run down the place looks, the menu is confusing and overwhelming, and then asks if he's drunk,

"I can smell the alcohol from here Carl... it's only 11am buddy."

The owner stutters and blinks,

"I- just uh, just a crazy night is all."

The host stares, unconvinced. Carl shifts awkwardly in his chair. The next segment was ordering food apparently, so you were up. You walk up to the table as the host asks you a barrage of questions,

"How would you say the fish is here? Is everything fresh? What do you think of the steak? Do you have any recommendations?"

When you say you only ate the fries from here and he laughs loudly,

"That is not a good sign folks!"

He stares at the camera, showing off teeth that were too big for his mouth before you walk off and punch in the order. There's a cameraman recording John and Simon cooking,

"Steak and potatoes."

John reads the slip out loud, they move around the kitchen while the owner watches. For such a simple dish there's a lot of chaos, Carl is yelling at them to move faster and cook properly, John is busy arguing with Carl and burns the steak, Simon plates up the food and hands it off to you. You place the plate down in front of the host,

"Oh...oh my God..."

You keep a straight face, hands behind your back. The host looks back up at you,

"Does the food usually come out like this?"

There's a tone of disgust and concern, his eyebrows turned up, you shrug. He stares back down at the filet and cuts into it,

"It's very impressive that one is able to overcook such a large piece of meat. That takes...skill."

You watch concertedly as he picks up a piece and puts it into his mouth, it looks like he wants to cry.

He goes on to complain about the quality of the food to the camera as he walks to the kitchen,

"At least it's clean back here. I've seen kitchens in wors- is that a fucking pigeon?"

Sure enough, there is. How the fuck did it get in here?

"Oh! I just left the door open to let some fresh air in..."

Carl awkwardly tries to catch the bird while the boys watch amusedly, even the camera crew stifle a laugh.

"Christ Almighty, what is wrong with you man?"

The host shakes his head, watching the whole scene in disbelief. Eventually, the bird is out of the building and the sweep of the kitchen continues.

"Food is not expired, everything is stored properly, it's all very well organized. I was honestly expecting worse."

The host walks up to the bar next, plucking up bottles and examining them,

"So, Kyle is it? How long have you been working here for?"

"Just a little over five years."

Gaz leans against the bar. There's a gasp and the host waves the camera over,

"Look at this shit,"

He points at the label,

"Expired in August,"

You look over at Gaz and Soap, they look like they're about to piss themselves, holding back laughs.

"Of 2012!"

The host looks disgusted,

"Why didn't you throw this away?"

"Carl told me to not toss anything."

Kyle shrugged. Soap is almost in tears, shaking, trying to bite back a howl of laughter.

The next two days are like this, you don't know why Carl hasn't pulled the plug on this fiasco yet,

"I think he's getting drunker as the days go by."

Johnny says, ashing his cigarette. There's a nod from Simon,

"I think he enjoys being embarrassed, seems like the type to get off on that."

'The big finale' as the host calls it, means getting a new menu, refreshing the cooks(John's) skills, and cleaning out the bar. The place is opened and there's a line out of the door. It's overwhelming, the customers are putting on a show, acting like dickheads and sending everything back even when there's nothing wrong with the food. Simon and John are on top of everything, putting out food as fast as possible, Carl is shitting himself running around the kitchen like a headless chicken. The night goes by fast and everyone is at the bar,

"So the cooks are for the most part competent, the waitress is amazing, and the bartender is well... The man can do no wrong. The problem here is you,"

The host points at Carl who is fucking sloshed swaying back and forth,

"I genuinely think this restaurant would be better off without you."

Carl starts bawling. The host is visibly uncomfortable. The boys and you are looking at each other. Then when all the cameras and lights are gone, it's all back to normal. Carl is looking for reassurance from anyone and you and the boys just pack up and head home, Price patting him on the back,

"You'll be alright."

~

A few months later, you're all sat on the couch watching the TV. Johnny's over the moon pointing at the screen,

"Look thare A am! See hou sexy A look?"

He's smiling and waving at the camera in the background of the scene where Carl is crying his eyes out. That gets a laugh out of Gaz,

"You're a sick bastard, Soap."

Once the episode dropped, the restaurant got busy for a few months. Most of the customers are horny women ogling at Kyle. On occasion you get the request to bring out "the scary looking one" and you just laugh it off.

"You're so lucky working with all these guys, I don't know if I'd be able to control myself,"

A particularly drunk woman said to you one day. You just smile while Kyle winks at you over his shoulder.

[disaster-writer]

Obsessed

Pairing: Pro-hero!Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Summary: Bakugo is obsessed with your ex and it’s driving you up a wall (Inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s song Obsessed)

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Smut, 18+

A/N: a few weeks ago I saw a post that was about this same concept, and I couldn’t find it to link it here unfortunately. I just thought it fit so well with him that I wanted to write my own take on it. Also this is just comedy, obviously his behavior in this would be problematic in real life so I’m definitely not condoning his obsession.

Minors DNI

Bakugo Katsuki’s eyes danced from cover to cover of every one of the magazines stocked in the stand at the convenience store he regularly stopped at after work. Each one baring a hero with advertisements of their interview inside. He noticed that some of his friends had even made the cover, notably Shitty Hair’s and Racoon Eye’s engagement announcement and a magazine that Dunce Face had recently modeled for.

But there was one specific cover he was glaring at.

His hands crackled.

Fuck it.

He hadn’t hesitated any longer before grabbing the magazine and staring at it with scrutinizing eyes.

Fucking Hawks

That fucking asshole was on the cover of another magazine— as if the other million with him on it wasn’t good enough.

He rifled through the pages, landing on the one that the cover said his interview would be on. It wasn’t one, or two, but four fucking pages long.

He read it furiously, eyes bouncing from each and every word.

‘What would you say is the most rewarding part of your hero work?’

Who gives a crap.

‘How have you learned to balance fame with being a hero?’

Absolute shit question.

‘Everyone knows you have a large female fanbase, so we’re all curious to know why you think that is?’

Because they’re all fucking idiots with shit taste, that’s why.

‘About two years ago you were part of a pretty big scandal when you were seen leaving your agency hand in hand with a hooded woman. Now that some time has passed are you willing to admit that she’s your girlfriend?’

No she was his fucking girlfriend, not that fucking asshole pretty boys—

The magazine blew up in his hands.

”Hey!” The store clerk yelled at the hero, “I don’t care if you’re a hero, you have to pay for that! What kind of business do you think I’m running!?”

“HAH!?” Bakugo puffed up his chest with a sneer as he stormed up to the counter, “MAYBE YOU SHOULDN’T KEEP SHIT MAGAZINES HERE IF YOU DON’T WANT THEM BLOWN UP! GET SOME BETTER SHIT! I’M OUTTA HERE!” He yelled furiously at the man before storming out of the store and slamming the door shut, shattering its glass.

The clerk ran up to the door in a rage, screaming something or other at the hero as he stormed down the sidewalk angrily.

He’d probably need to find a new convenience store.

Bakugo continued to stomp his way down the sidewalk as he walked to your apartment. He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled his phone out, pulling up google.

He found his fingers quickly tapping away at the screen.

Hawks

Picture after picture of that stupid hero came up and his finger swiped through each one as he sneered at his stupid face that even Bakugo couldn’t deny was objectively attractive— not to mention he had this air of coolness around him, making every single goddamned thing he did seem effortless.

Bakugo was seething, passerby’s staring at him in fear as they watched him silently rage on such a beautiful, clear day.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of your door, shoving the spare key under the mat into the lock.

”Hey, Kat!” You chirped, looking over at him from the kitchen, “How was work?”

“Fine,” he grumbled, walking over to you and taking a peak at the dinner you were cooking. Looked like chicken soup but knowing you and your cooking skills it was probably some amalgamation of whatever was in your fridge. “Couldn’t fuckin wait an hour?”he grumbled— he would’ve cooked for you if you weren’t so damn impatient.

”You were taking too long,” you whined, throwing some celery into the pot. “I got hungry.”

He grunted, reaching for your hips and turning you into him, slamming his lips into yours.

Hawks probably used to kiss you more gently— he could just picture him seducing you into kissing him, making you chase for it. 

Not Bakugo. No, if he wanted to kiss you then he was going to fucking kiss you.

You pulled away breathlessly, a hairs breadth away from him, “Whoa— what was that for?”

He stared down at you with hooded eyes.

He was better than Hawks.

He could even prove it.

He turned the stove off and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

”Hey— what are you doing!” You yelped, kicking your legs. 

“Bedroom,” he grunted.

”But what about dinner?” 

“I’ll fix whatever mess you started in there later. I’m making sure you work up a real appetite.”

* * * *

Bakugo’s hips smacked against your ass sharply, balls hitting your clit with every thrust, each slap louder than your muffled moans in the pillow you clung to for dear life.

One hand gripped the headboard as his other gripped your hip in a bruising hold. He stared at you, hunched over your trembling body as tears clung to your lashes.

Hawks couldn’t fuck you like this— no damn way. 

But what if he could— he technically was the number two hero, while Bakugo was still stuck at number 15.

What if he fucked you better?

The thought had Bakugo fisting your hair and pulling you up, freeing your pleasured moans and cries.

”K-Kat— ah, fuck—“

Did you even mean to say his name? What if you really meant to say Hawks’— what if you meant Hawks every single time you ever said his name?

”Tell me you’re mine,” he grunted.

”’M yours— all yours Kat— only yours,” you babbled uselessly. He’d be lying if it wasn’t one of his favorite things about you in bed, given any sort of prompt and you just ran with it. 

“Who fucks you this good?”

”Y-you! You do!— You fuck me so good Kat—ah- best cock I’ve ever had—“

He growled, wrapping his arms around you and hoisting you up, now fucking up into you as he held you against him, head lolling on his shoulder.

He bit down on your neck hard, making you cry out as he started sucking on it, sure to leave a nasty hickey behind.

Maybe Hawks would see. He knew neither of you even talked anymore but what if he’s just on patrol, sees you, decides to say hi, and finds that dark bruise right on your neck, sucked raw.

The thought had him bouncing you faster against him, his muffled groans into your neck sounding with your high pitched cries of his name.

He wound his hand down to your clit and rubbed back and forth furiously.

”Oh fuck—“ you sobbed, body arching and trying to get away, but he tightened his arm around you and held you in place.

”Cum pretty girl, cum around the best fucking cock you’ve ever taken.”

You came with a shrill cry, grasping for any part of him you could hold onto.

He came soon after, inside. 

He knew he shouldn’t but something about cumming in you sated whatever beast was inside him.

You whined as you slumped into his arms, weak and shaky.

”You promised Kat.”

”Couldn’t help it.”

”Then you’re wearing condoms again.” You huffed as he lowered you down on your side of the bed.

He tsked, “Go on birth control.”

”I’m not fucking with my hormones.”

”Damn woman,” he growled, laying beside you, “I’ll get you a plan B, just quit your whining.”

”You’re wearing a condom next time.”

”Yeah yeah, fine.”

”And go make dinner.”

He pulled you against him, your body curling against him with your head on his chest. “In a second. Lemme catch my breath and help clean you up first.”

You huffed but nuzzled against him. 

He liked having you curled up against him but he couldn’t deny there was an ulterior motive to him ‘catching his breath’.

He just really loved the fact that you were laying with his cum dripping out of you right now.

Not Hawks’s cum— Katsuki’s

The rest of the night went as it routinely did for the most part. He fixed the mess of the soup you were working on before eating you out and making you cum three times then fucking you for a second time… then a third time.

And when you thought he was finally done, you went to shower and get on with your shower routine only for him to walk in half way through your shower with his dick hard again.

He fucked you for a fourth time.

All with a condom.

”Seven times,”  you breathed as your head hit the pillow. “You made me cum seven times tonight.”

Your limbs were sore, Bakugo had to carry you to bed. Your legs were basically useless now. 

“What’s gotten into you tonight— it’s only a Tuesday.”

Marathon’s like these weren’t exactly out of the norm, but tonight felt so unprompted. 

He grunted, turning on his side and pulling you against his chest, clinging to you like a Koala.

”I’m not allowed to want to fuck my girlfriend?” He murmured into your hair.

”No… just felt out of no where that’s all.”

”What? You didn’t like it?” He growled defensively.

You rolled your eyes, slotting your legs with his. Everything was always so dramatic with him, “No I liked it. Best cock I’ve ever had, remember?” You snickered.

His arms tightened around you… now he was thinking of the other cock you’ve taken.

”Better than the birds?”

“Oh my god,” you hissed, annoyance dripping from every word, “Really Katsuki? This again?”

”What? It’s a simple fucking question.”

”Yes. Your cocks better than Keigo’s. Happy now?”

Silence filled the room. You thought maybe he dropped it and you closed your eyes.

”Are you just saying that to shut me up?”

”Kat,” you snapped, eyes opening again. “Drop it. I’ve already told you everything about that relationship. Just move the fuck on— I already have.”

He was silent once again.

”Do you still have his number in your phone?”

You cursed to yourself… this was going to be a longer night than you thought.

* * * *

Bakugo stared out the window as you snored lightly in your sleep, burying his nose in your freshly washed hair.

He couldn’t sleep knowing he was laying in the same spot Hawks once had.

Did he used to hold you just like this too?

When you mentioned your ex in past conversations he had thought nothing of it. You were a civilian, your life was normal, he always figured this ex you mentioned was some boring ass nine to five guy that put the most generic shit in a dating profile like ‘Favorite Hobby: Traveling’.

Of course Bakugo would be better than that guy.

Come to find out you were in a long term relationship with the number fucking two hero.

What the fuck was it about you that attracted high ranking heroes of all people. 

Like yeah you were cool and fun and magnetic and didn’t take shit from anyone— you were even able to go head to head with him in a screaming match which shouldn’t have been as attractive as he found it. Not to mention how fucking hot you were…

Okay fine, Bakugo thought you were goddamned perfect any man would be a fucking idiot if they didn’t find you any less than perfect like he did.

But still.

Number fucking two.

Hawks had always been cool and collected, saving people every day without lifting a finger. He dominated the skies and had a trail of girls drooling after him. The media loved him— everyone loved him.

Bakugo on the other hand… not so much. How could you go from someone like Hawks to Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

From number two to number 15.

One day he would become number one but he still wasn’t quite there yet.

Ever since he found out he had found himself thinking of the hero more than he ever had before. Hawks dominated every second of his life.

Is he still friends with your friends? Is he good in bed? Do you ever think about him? Is he easy-going? Not controlling like Bakugo sometimes could be?

Oh god.

He had issues.

* * * * 

“Y’know they were in love,” Bakugo practically gagged.

Kirishima side eyed his friend.

He was seriously over talking about Hawks every single time he patrolled with Bakugo.

”Isn’t she in love with you now?”

”That’s what she says,” he grumbled.

”You don’t believe her?”

”No, I believe her. I just think she’s confused.”

He was really starting to lose it, huh?

”Don’t you think,” Kirishima started, choosing his next words carefully as he waved at a little kid they walked by, elbowing Bakugo to do the same. “It’s unhealthy to think about your girlfriend’s ex this much? It’s been like two years since they broke up hasn’t it?”

”19 months and three days.”

Oh boy.

”Okay… have you tried talking to her about your obsession—“

”IT’S NOT A FUCKING OBSESSION!” He suddenly exploded, hands crackling. “WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP SAYING THAT!”

Kirishima didn’t even flinch as he screamed, instead offering an apologetic smile to the civilians on the sidewalk. “Maybe because you started asking how he is in bed after you two had sex?”

”SHUT UP SHITTY HAIR, NO ONE ASKED YOU!”

“So you haven’t talked to her then?”

Bakugo growled in response.

”Maybe talk to him?”

Bakugo looked over at his friend, eyes wide as he watched Kirishima walk beside him with his arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the sky. “Talk to Hawks?”

The idea had never struck him before.

”Yeah. Maybe you just need to meet him. You’ve probably just built up this grand image of him that the media keeps perpetuating— he might not be as perfect as you think, they always did say never to meet your heroes.”

Meet Hawks.

Meet Hawks.

Yeah— he could do that.

Bakugo was suddenly blasting away from his friend.

”Hey! We’re still doing a job you know!?” 

“I’m working by myself today!” He called out behind him.

Bakugo was on a mission.

He was going to meet Hawks and give him a piece of his mind.

The hero was often spotted perching on rooftops, miles away from his agency as any villain with a brain would know better than to commit a crime right by a hero agency— Hawks’s agency especially.

So Bakugo found himself bounding from rooftop to rooftop, searching the skies for that damn bird— he was also keeping an eye on the city, he was still a hero with a job after all.

But as the sun started to set, Bakugo grew restless, finally deciding to take a break and lay on one of the many rooftops he landed on.

No damn sign of him.

Of course he’d be hard to catch, his whole schtick was being fast.

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed at a cloud that reminded him of bird wings. He wondered if you two ever got up to weird sexual shit with those stupid wings.

His chest felt so damn tight every time he thought of him, like he could explode at any second.

He knew so much useless crap about him now that he read and watched practically every single interview of his.

He was a Capricorn.

His blood type was B.

He was 5’7” and 3/4.

His favorite food was chicken— goddamn cannibal.

He wondered if that was why you were in the habit of cooking chicken for dinner most nights.

You were together for two and a half years, that was a long time to spend with someone. What mannerisms have you picked up from him that he always believed were yours?

He pulled out his phone and pulled up Hawks’s instagram, scrolling through perfect photo after perfect photo of him and reading his replies to fan comments.

Damn bird probably didn’t even run his own account.

He tapped on his tags, scrolling down to one of the many photos that haunted him.

He remembered the news at the time, headlines reading ‘Pro-Hero Hawks Has A Girlfriend’ and ‘Sorry Ladies, This Hero is Taken’.

At the time he couldn’t give less of a shit, but now.

It was all he could fucking think about.

He stared at the photo of Hawks dragging a hooded woman by the hand out of his agency. He scrolled and stared at the second photo of him grinning down at the woman.

It was you all right.

There weren’t any other pictures of the two of you out in public and it irked him. It was like an itch that couldn’t be scratched as he wondered just how the two of you looked together in your relationship.

Did you have any pictures of the two of you in your phone?

That was when the sunlight was completely blocked, blanketing him in shadow.

He lowered his phone and his quirk nearly blew up the device.

Fucking Hawks.

His eyes followed the bird as he perched on a telephone pole near the rooftop.

”There a reason you’re lounging on a roof, hero?” Hawks asked with an amused smirk.

Bakugo only stared— was this real or had he actually lost his mind now?

He raised a brow at his silence, tilting his head, reminding Bakugo of an owl. “You didn’t get hit by a quirk or something did you?”

He suddenly had no idea what to say— he hadn’t actually planned anything out to begin with. He figured his mouth would take over like usual and he’d go from there.

”Wait, I know you,” he suddenly snapped his fingers, “You’re that hero Dynamight.”

”THAT’S GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT TO YOU.”

Hawks blinked at the outburst before he barked out a laugh.

”WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT BIRD BRAIN!?” He shouted, stomping his way over to the edge of the roof.

”Nothing, nothing,” he laughed, waving his hand, “That’s a great name.”

”ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME!” He screamed again, throwing his hand up and blasting off an explosion straight at Hawks.

Hawks’s eyes widened as he quickly darted upwards, missing the attack. “Y’know I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to be on the same side,” he called out, watching Bakugo as he seethed.

”Same side my ass,” he growled under his breath, “Is my girlfriend’s number still in your phone!?”

”Your girlfriend?” Hawks scoffed, “I don’t know who’s been lying to you but I can promise I don’t have your girlfriend’s number—“

”(Y/N) (L/N)!”

Hawks’s face fell, “You’re dating (Y/N)?”

”YES I AM, YOU STUPID BIRD.”

”Alright fine,” he shrugged, “I guess I do have your girlfriend’s number.”

Bakugo screamed as he hurled blast after blast at Hawks, to which he swiftly dodged each and every one.

He stopped, panting as he searched the sky for him as the smoke cleared, only to find the man standing in front of him.

”Is there a reason you’re trying to kill me? (N/N) moan my name while you two fucked or something?”

A fierce rage boiled in him at the nickname, “DON’T CALL HER THAT!” 

He began shooting more and more explosions at him.

Hawks tsked.

What a bother— were you really dating this guy?

He sent his feathers straight at Bakugo, each one catching onto any piece of fabric it could without slicing him and another set of feathers sliding off his gauntlets.

He had Bakugo pinned against the rooftop, palms against the concrete.

Hawks walked through the smoke, staring down at the struggling, screaming man with an unamused expression.

He kneeled down. “You’re aware we broke up like two years ago.” He said flatly, this was so ridiculous, he could barely remember what happened the last time he talked to you.

”19 months and three days,” he spat.

“Whoa,” his eyes widened before a grin tugged on his lips, “You have issues huh?” He only laughed as Bakugo continued to scream at him. “You also know she’s the one that broke up with me, right?”

”Of course she did! Because you’re a fucking dumbass who can’t fuck!”

“Can’t fuck? She tell you that? Because I remember her telling me something very different.”

Bakugo saw red, now thinking about you moaning about Hawks’s dick the same way you moaned about his.

He sighed, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest. “Y’know… it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen her. And I suppose I should cut your rampage short. Let’s go on a little trip.”

* * * *

You hummed, dancing around your kitchen while you cooked. Bakugo was late, but that was fine, he probably got held up with hero work.

You knew he’d probably yell at you for cooking dinner without him again but you were sticking to a chicken dish that you had perfected so he could complain all he wanted while eating his deliciously seasoned chicken.

There was a knock at your door.

”One second!” You called out, quickly washing your hands. It was probably the landlord again.

You turned your music off, humming as you skipped over to the door and opened it.

Your smile immediately fell.

Keigo fucking Takami leaned against the wall across your door with your boyfriend, who was currently wrapped up in a bandage capture weapon from his ankles to his mouth, being floated by Keigo’s feathers.

”It’s come to my attention that you’ve lost something,” He coolly stated with one of those grins you used to see on almost a daily basis.

Bakugo was screaming into the bandage around his mouth, not a single word coming out coherently.

Your head fell as you pinched the bridge of your nose, “For the love of God please tell me I’m being pranked.” You groaned.

”Not today sweetheart.”

More screaming ensued. “Alright,” you huffed, “Come in I guess.” You moved to the side, Bakugo being floated into the room first with Hawks following behind, and his two gauntlets floating in afterwards.

Hawks looked around the familiar space, “You redecorated,” he stated calmly, before noticing your neck, “And that looks painful,” he pointed to the ridiculous hickey your boyfriend left on you the night before. He went over to the couch and placed Bakugo down, his feathers finally rejoining his wings.

He immediately rolled off, hitting the ground with a thud as he struggled.

Hawks quirked an eyebrow at him before looking back to you, “Dynamight huh? Little hero magnet aren’t ya?”

You shrugged, “Seems so— this one keeps my hands a bit more full though.”

”Just wait till he finds out about the other hero you dated.”

Bakugo struggled more, smacking his head against the coffee table.

”He’s fucking with you Kat!” You called out, walking over to him, now standing above your restrained boyfriend, “There was no other hero— do you have to rile him up even more?” You snapped at Keigo.

He only shrugged, “He tried killing me so I think that’s fair.”

You groaned, “I’m really sorry about that. I’m gonna talk to him tonight.”

He hummed, “Nothing I couldn’t handle. You look good by the way, it’s nice seeing you doing well after all this time.”

”Yeah, you too,” you grinned, “Hero work going well? I see you on the news almost every day.”

”Better than ever.” He smiled, “I’ll let you attend to him though, I think he needs the attention.”

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks.” You said leading him to the door, “And thank you for bringing him here, I’m sorry again for any trouble he caused.”

”S’alright,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I do have one question though,” he turned, facing you in the doorway, “Did you really tell him I can’t fuck—?”

“Good night Keigo,” you slammed the door in his face.

You walked back over to your boyfriend, watching him roll back and forth between the couch and coffee table as he struggled with the capture weapon.

”Oh Kat,” you sighed, “What am I gonna do with you?”

You sat on the couch, leaning down and yanking the bandage from his mouth.

He said nothing.

You raised a brow, “Really? You had a fuck ton to say when he was here,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You were flirting,” he grumbled.

”You tried to kill him? Really? You don’t realize how fucking psychotic that is?”

“… He called you sweetheart.”

”Okay,” you snapped, “This has got to stop Kat. Honestly it seems like you’re more into Keigo than me.”

”That’s absolute fucking bullshit, and you know it. I’m only obsessed with him because of you.”

”So you admit you’re obsessed?”

”What!? No!—I— shut up you fucking idiot!” He screamed, rolling on the floor again to try and break free.

”Okay, how are we gonna remedy this? What can I do to help you get over this? Therapy?”

He stopped, staring at the ceiling, ”… Lemme send him a picture of my dick in your pussy.”

”Absolutely out of the question.” You stated, utterly unamused.

”Sucking me off?”

“Nope.”

”Eating you out?”

”Try again.”

“Mirror pic of us in doggy?”

”Kat—… actually I can deal with that— but only if you agree to talk to a therapist. I love you Kat so I’m really gonna need you to drop this obsession with my ex or I’m gonna have a new one.”

”Fine!” He barked. “Doggy and a therapist.”

You nodded, “Doggy and a therapist— and did you pick up that plan B like you said you would?”

“…damn it.”

* * * * 

[New Message… Unknown number]

[1 Attachment]

Keigo Takami: ‘Thanks. I almost forgot what she looked like in that position’

[New Message… (Y/N)]

(Y/N): Idk what you said but I’m begging you to stop riling him up. There’s only so much screaming I can take in one night 

Keigo Takami: Good luck sweetheart, I’m sure you’re doing a lot more screaming than he is anyway ;)

(Y/N): Bastard