#but besides them it's just a normal thing

[bbokicidal]

Not a Need, but a Craving | Loser!Perv!SKZ

Warnings: Chris is lowkey a creep here lol, Perverted behavior; Panty stealing, slapping of tits/ass/face, hair pulling, up-the-skirt pics, one-sided masturbation, meandom?Jeongin Pairing: OT8 [individual] x Fem-implied!Reader Genre: Suggestive but not smut (well.. sort of. 18+) Notes: Based loosely off of this perv!skz post I did a while ago. <- read this first!

방찬

Relation: Trainees

❥ Chris tells himself he'll delete these pictures every time he takes them, but he always ends up adding them to the the album specifically curated towards you and your -- well, the panties he deemed so cute and so sexy, enough so that he needed the pictures on his phone or he'd die. It was the only thing that he could get off to at this point; Women just didn't ever seem to want to come home with him so he could actually get some pussy, so...

❥ He's almost... proud of himself with how slick he's gotten; Taking pictures up your dress at the club when you're dancing against him, sneaking a photo or two up your skirt on the train while you wait to get off, or even up your nightgown when you're in the kitchen making breakfast for him after he stayed the night because the ride home was hours long and you had too big of a heart to let him go so late in the night.

❥ And of course he knows you can never find out. You're pretty, popular amongst the trainees and he's -- yeah, he's been there a long chunk of time but he doesn't have a ton friends or go out with people like you do. If you found out, if anyone found out, he'd be kicked out of the company and he'd never see you - or your pretty pussy and cute lacy panties - ever again...

리노

Relation: College students

❥ Minho is always touching you. When he can, at least.

❥ It started all because you sat next to him when studying. He was there to help you, but you insisted on moving closer to look at the textbook he was gesturing to and the moment your thigh brushed against his own it was all over for him. He'd tensed up and choked on every word that tried to leave his throat, ears bright pink. He could even smell your perfume from where he sat.

❥ He knew almost immediately he needed more, so as he came over more often to help you with classwork - because that's all he was to you, a tutor - he would let you sit close or even ask you to come sit beside him instead of across the table so he could have you right there. He would think about it later, too; The way your hand lingered on his arm when you patted it and bid him goodbye that evening, the way your fingertips brushed over his own as you eyed the textbook together.

❥ Maybe he was a bigger loser than he thought, getting off just from the simple touch of a pretty girl he shares a class with. (Not that he'd ever admit to you that sometimes he comes in his pants when your thighs touch his own under the table...)

창빈

Relation: Gym buddies

❥ Changbin was... still shameless.

❥ But even less so, now. He'd begun asking you to come to the gym with him all three times of the week he went - his schedule a bit busier than normal these days - and every single time he would go home and right away hop in the shower to tug on his cock.

❥ He'd started doing this... thing. He swore it was so that at the end of the year, you could create a video that showed your progress over every day you spent together at the gym working hard - but really, Changbin took photos of you two together at the end of your workouts just so he could use them while he got off later that evening. The sight of your hair all messy, you in slightly damp workout leggings and a sports bra, skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat...

❥ He knew it was a little gross, using your body to get off like that. Especially when you were sweaty in all of the pictures - But he preferred it that way. He could hear your heavy breathing in his ears even hours after you'd parted ways, the way your chest bumped his arm as he flexed and you held up a playful peace sign and smile. Call him gross all you want - He knew what he liked, and what he liked was you.

현진

Relation: Friend of a friend

❥ The collection was growing day by day and Hyunjin was getting more and more bold with every move he made. He never got the real thing because girls just weren't interested in him with his long hair, glasses, and pretty round eyes; so this was the best he'd get.

❥ He'd started sleeping over more often, using Felix as a reason to even be there in the first place. You two were close, he was close with the Australian - so he was automatically invited too, right? Right! And when he was over at your house and you were distracted playing a game with Felix, well - what was Hyunjin to do but go through your drawers and find something to take home with him?

❥ He's got favorites, of course. Anything pink is by far at the top of his 'I want this' list, stealing a lacy pair the first time he came over - then two more pair, one set seamless and the other covered in cherries, the next time he visited. Luckily for you, he doesn't stay the night at your place too often, or you'd be running out of underwear constantly with how he's stealing them left and right.

❥ But Hyunjin swears he's seen you stealing glances at him here and there, so... maybe if you knew he was using them to jerk himself off every night or sleeping with them curled up near his face so he could rest with your scent right beside him, you'd be more open to just handing him a pair to keep.

❥ It's only a matter of time before he starts taking the used ones.

한

Relation: College Roommates

❥ Jisung can't help the way he's just so... submissive? Around you?

❥ Let me explain. Jisung's developed a real bad habit of acting like he needs help from you when you're around because if he needs help, you'll touch him. He'll eat messier than normal so you'll wipe his lips clean for him - and yes, he'll practically come in his pants at the feeling of your thumb so close to slipping in his mouth - or he'll almost act as if he doesn't know how to do something so you'll hold his hands while you explain or hold onto him as you help him learn how to do something. Even if he's just faking being a bit of a himbo so you'll help him.

❥ And one of the reasons he gets away with this ^ so easily? Is because he's a known loser around campus and he's constantly teased for it. And you..? Well, you're the pretty girl who takes pity on him.

❥ His favorite is when you come to check on him at night or peek in to see if he's sleeping before you shower. He'll hum out that his head hurts or that his back aches from training all day or working out - and you'll comb his hair through your fingers or rub your hands down his back until he's falling asleep under your touch. And while, yes, it does help him sleep in the long run - it also makes him rock hard. The moment you leave the room after he 'falls asleep' he's rutting his hips down against the mattress and whimpering your name into his pillow.

필릭스

Relation: Best friend's brother

❥ Felix is affectionate with everyone he's close to. But you -- you're beautiful, and soft, and your tits are just so...

❥ Call him a loser if you want - he knows it's what he is. A desperate, shy, sweet angel who's booksmart and tries way too hard to be cool, who hangs around the pretty, popular girl because she's his sister's best friend. Just the precious little brother who sees that gorgeous girl once or twice a week at his home and takes it as an opportunity to hang around her; Hugging onto you, burying his face in your neck, cuddling up close during movies.

❥ And you let him cling to you because 1) He's hot, and 2) You know it's the only touch from a woman he'll ever get. And you suppose you don't mind the way his hands wander over your body when he swears he's just cuddling close and getting comfortable. You're pretty sure he doesn't realize you know he's feeling you up and groping every curve of your body, but. Ignorance is bliss.~

승민

Relation:

❥ It starts as an accident.

❥ Seungmin's hand caught in your hair when he laid it on your back and as he pulled away, his ring caught and pulled. He'd moved away so fast it had been enough to make your head lull back, a gasp and yell of pain and laughter falling from your lips as you reach to push his arm away.

❥ And Seungmin... -- God. He's weak in the knees. He spots the way your mouth falls open, your nose crinkles and eyes close at the feeling of your hair being pulled. And he knows in that moment that he needs to see you like that again.

❥ So he does it as a joke; subtle and cautious about it at first. You'll play fight or bicker about anything and Seungmin will pull your hair, fingers fisted tight in the strands until his hand was so close to your scalp that he had full control of your head. On one instance he had pulled you close until his face was inches from yours, cocking a brow and listening to you whine about how tight he was holding onto your hair - and another, you'd dropped forward into his lap in laughter while he was still holding onto you and he swore he almost shot a load in his boxers. That was the closest a woman had ever been to his hips - And if you didn't feel the way his cock twitched against the side of your face, it would've been a miracle.

아이엔

Relation: Close friends

❥ Jeongin loves being a little mean to you because you're the only woman in his life who will let him get away with it.

❥ You're one of his closest friends, even if he's kind of lame and everyone looks down on him for being the youngest in his group - and you're the one who openly bickers with him, teases him, and he does it all back to you and you take it, which surprises him a little bit. You let him pull on you and wrestle with you or cling to you when he's tired, even if he's all sweaty and gross. But sometimes the wrestling or bickering turns to pushing and pulling on each other until you're both on the floor and he's holding you down while you're kicking to be free.

❥ The first time he spanks you, all he remembers is the way you cry out and feeling of your ass against his palm. He plays it off by laughing because that's what you do, completely disregarding it and brushing it off before spanking him as well in retaliation - and he lets it happen. Not because he's into it, but because he's too distracted with trying to figure out how to hide the fact that he's so hard it hurts.

❥ He's going to need more of that feeling in the future. He knows he does - so he does it again to test the waters and when you, once again, laugh at it and take it as play-fighting, he dares to go further. These days the two of you are always slapping at each other's arms and thighs and ass - but if he's feeling really bold he'll slap your tits and sometimes, your face. Gently, of course, little taps here and there when it comes to your cheeks. And each time you take it in stride with giggles and slapping him in return, while he gets off to it later that evening in the bathroom stall after practice, remembering the way you feel under his palms when he spanks you.

❥ And that's how Jeongin discovered his impact play kink.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @felixleftchickennugget @byeon-bae

[wonderjanga]

I’m the Parent and the Child

Billy has a kid form as Marvel and chooses to go into it quite often. He normally leaves his adult form for Champion of Magic duties. As a result, you’ll mostly see three little kids running around as opposed to two little kids and an adult. This is a little concerning for some people and absolutely outrageous for others.

Mary, Junior, and (Kid Form)Marvel: *all just finished jumping Adam and are now sipping juice boxes while sitting on the curb*

Supes: *flies down and lands near them* “Hey, kiddos. Is your father nearby?”

Junior: “Huh…?” *confused, cause he checked his father was dead*

Mary: *immediately clocks that he’s talking about adult Marvel* “No, why?”

Supes: “I wanted to talk about something with him. Have you heard of the Justice League?”

Marvel: “No?”

Supes: “Well, we’re a team of heroes and we want your father to join.”

Mary: “Oh, cool!”

Supes: “Yes, it is cool. So is he nearby?”

Junior: *now picked up on the fact he’s talking about adult Marvel* “No, he’s off somewhere… doing something.”

Supes: “Oh? And he just left you guys to watch over the city alone?”

Junior: “Uh… Yes?”

Supes: “That’s… Extremely irresponsible of him.”

Marvel: *still confused* “Mister, what are you talking about? Our Dads are de-”

Mary: *steps on his foot harshly* “Mister, you don’t have to worry about it. He’ll be back soon.”

Supes: “But I should worry. He’s letting three children wander around fighting crime with no supervision and nothing to protect you besides your powers.”

Junior: *shrugs* “That’s never stopped us.”

Supes: “Look, just-” *sighs* “when your dad comes back, give him this.” *hands Mary a JL comm because she seems the most responsible*

Mary: *takes it* “Okay!”

Later…

Supes: “I just can’t believe it! He seems like a good hero, but guess what?” *pacing around*

Batman: *reading a newspaper or something* What?

Supes: “He just let his kids go around fighting crime on their own!”

Batman: “And?”

Supes: “And they’re kids! Little kids! All around Robin’s age!”

Batman: *puts his newspaper down* “Oh? I assumed they were older.”

Supes: “Yeah, no. They’re all prepubescent!”

Batman: “Oh…”

Supes: “Yeah, oh. Are we gonna have to talk to him about this?”

Batman: “It seems so. If he accepts the membership offer, that is.”

Supes: “But what if he doesn’t? Are we just going to have to stand to the side and just watch this happen?”

Batman: “No. If he doesn’t accept, I’m sure there are other things we can do. After all, just because he doesn’t want to join the League, doesn’t mean he won’t prevent his kids from joining a team of their own like the Titans.”

The Captain does join the JL, and much to their delight, Junior and Mary join the Titans. Though the other little boy was nowhere to be found. He could still be seen patrolling Fawcett though so maybe he didn’t want to join while the other two did?

Anyways, that was the concern, here’s the outrage:

Black Adam: “Wha- Champion why in the Gods’ names do you look like that?”

Marvel: “What do you mean?”

Black Adam: “I mean, you look like a child.”

Marvel: “So?”

Black Adam: “So change back into your normal form.”

Marvel: “You mean my adult form?”

Black Adam: “Yes.” *rolls eyes*

Marvel: “Oh uh… no.”

Black Adam: “What do you mean no? I shouldn’t have to lower myself to fight a child.”

Marvel: “I…” *wants so badly to tell Adam that he already was a child before, but he can’t because, you know, secret identity* “Sure, man.”

He still ended up fighting Kid Marvel. Billy also won so that was a slight blow to Adam’s ego.

[chaoticwriting]

The First Son

All the batkids have one common secret they are keeping from Bruce. That is the fact that there is a new vigilante in town. At first they were confused when they heard rumors that the bats had a new member since Bruce hasn't introduced anyone to this guy.

It is only after a little prodding that they realize that the guy they are talking about is just a new vigilante. A good one too. No one has seen him and the only reason they know it's a he is because of his voice. The goons often call him The Phantom.

At first, they were very wary of this new guy. Last thing they need is a new guy who decides to do whatever the hell they want in the city. But no. Phantom doesn't interfere with anyone's works nor does he create chaos whenever he works. The guy operation is smooth and if not for the unconscious bodies sprawled on the ground, no one would even realize he is there.

The first contact they ever had with Phantom is when Phantom gives them a tip of an Arkham breakout in the planning. No one knows how he knows but he just is. His information gathering is better than any of them including Tim and Barbara. They also successfully established a way of contact between them. Whenever any of them need help, they will leave a sticky note on the bat signal and they will receive whatever intel they want the next day. They try to see him by staying right beside the signal and even setting up cameras but none of them works with either the sticky note straight up disappearing or the cameras becoming static with the sticky note getting replaced with the Intel when the static is gone.

And so they go like this for a few more months when suddenly a tip comes up from an unlikely source.

Talia Al-Ghul has informed them that because of desperation Ra's is planning on kidnapping Tim and Damian to use them in a battle against Talia. She has been working to take over the League of Assassin after she gained news of her own father having dark plans against his own son. After the recent fatal blow to her father's faction, in a desperate attempt to defeat her, decides to break his own words and plans to invade Gotham to take Damian as hostage and Tim to become his apprentice.

The batfamily goes on high alert especially since Talia herself is there with her assassins trying to help them. But unfortunately, they underestimate how determine Ra's is. Talia nor the batfamily don't expect that Ra's would be crazy enough to bring his whole faction to invade Gotham.

Tim and Damian are not having a good time. Let it be known that normally, they can easily take down anyone they want to if they work together. Unfortunately, their opponent today is Ra's Al-Ghul himself. If Batman, Cass or even Dick is here, they would easily be able to hold their own against him. But Tim's expertise is detective work while Damian is still young and are at a disadvantage in terms of physical strength and experience.

Everyone is fighting to get backup to Tim but with the Supes out of this world and most other heroes busy with their own works, it is quite hard to deal with the assassins. That is until all the assassins are frozen on the ground. They don't know how or why but the assassins are now fully covered in ice with only their heads out.

A figure forms slowly in front of Ra's as his blade inches slowly towards Tim. A loud metal clanging sounded destroying the silence that has befallen the whole battlefield. In front of them is a man with black hair, blue eyes and very very tall. On his hand is a Khopesh that is directly parrying Ra's katana.

"Hello father."

The voice sends a chill into everyone who hears it. But for the Batkids, they know that voice. That is the same voice that is often heard whenever they try to communicate with Phantom. That means, the guy in front of them is Phantom.

"No no no. Impossible. I killed you by my own hand. There is no way you are here. An imposter. That's what you are."

Ra's says as everyone can feel the tremble and fear in his voice. And for the record the bats and Talia have heard Ra's voice being in fear before but this is different. This is the fear that you showed when you are in front of your natural predators. Your death.

"Indeed. It is a mistake for me to believe that you would love like I used to love you, father. And I loathe myself thinking about it. For the longest time revenge has been on my mind. But some people have helped me in letting go of the past. People who truly see me and treat me like family."

"How? How are you still alive? The Lazarus Pit swallows your body as a sacrifice."

"The Pit does no such thing. When you put me in there, you merely set me free. The Pit claims me as one of her own. And she takes pity on my life and decides to give me a better one. And for that I will be eternally grateful to her."

In a fit of madness, Ra's swings his sword towards Phantom. He doesn't want to hear any of it anymore. He needs to kill Phantom now. Before he-

A kick sends him flying across the rooftop towards the other side. Ra's roll on the ground growling in pain. That kick specifically aims to give me the most pain without damaging his body in the slightest. A feat that can easily be done by a very skilled martial artist.

Phantom picks up Tim and Damian that is still on the ground. With Damian fully unconscious and Tim barely conscious, Phantom sends them to the ground using what the other thought to be some form of telekinesis. They slowly pick Tim and Damian and after making sure Tim and Damian aren't in imminent danger, they try to make contact with Phantom, when a dome of ice erected from the ground surrounding both Phantom and Ra's.

Phantom holds his sword in by his side and slowly walks towards Ra's.

"My name is Danyal Al-Ghul. The first son of Ra's Al-Ghul. Today, I am here to formally challenge Ra's Al-Ghul to a death match on account of the continuation of the unsolved battle 500 years ago. All the members of the league are to be witnesses of this battle."

That sentence sends dread to everyone present. Talia knows of this tradition. A tradition that is used by her father to take down any opposition to his rule. That's why she has never confronted his father head on. She is not confident that she can win against him.

Ra's knows that he can't hide any longer. Last time he wins is barely because of an ambush and Danyal was poisoned. He would have never won otherwise.

Usually, Ra's prided himself in being a warrior. Who will dare to look death in the eyes to challenge it to battle. But people that are close to him knows that he is a coward. A coward that is so scared of death, who will do anything to run against it. But now, he can no longer run. Death has finally made his way towards his doorstep. Death in the form of his first son. The very son who he killed because of a prophecy he heard from a seer.

'You shall die a worthless death. At the hand of your greatest creation. He will be your end. The one who will put out your flames of life. Your first son.'

He has been enraged when the seer says that. He killed the old woman and even prepared a plan to kill his own son. The son that trusted him. He first sends him on a big mission where he knew Danyal would never fail. Then he makes a grand celebration when he returns. That's when he poisoned him, reducing his strength to barely a tenth of his full strength.

Even then, Danyal had put up a tough fight. Claiming Ra's hand while fighting him. He thought that he succeeded when life left his son's body. But he is greedy. He tries to awaken him again to make him into his perfect warrior. But the Lazarus Pit swallows him. Leaving no trace behind.

For the longest time, Ra's hid the existence of this son. He is his greatest creation. He is also his greatest shame.

Danyal walks slowly towards Ra's. The others are trying to crack open his ice dome but unless he wills it, even the sun can't melt his ice. Ra's is kneeling right there. Seemingly given up any chance of retaliation. Both of them knew that Danyal is the superior one between the two. Either intellect or strength. Danyal has and will always be better.

Putting the sword on his neck, Danyal asks him. "Any last words father?"

Ra's looks at him with an empty eyes that suddenly gains light as he thrust his katana straight into Danyal's chest. Ra's is about to laugh in victory as he thinks he has outsmarted his son again but then he realizes that his son is still standing there with his sword on his neck.

"Goodbye father." And with that, Ra's head flies into the sky and falls on the floor. Danyal can hear the screaming and shouting from the outside but he doesn't care. He has done it. His long forgotten revenge. His blood feud.

He looks at his father's corpse and burns it to ashes. He has made sure that the old man's soul has completely dispersed after the soul of people he kills unjustly has taken him apart one by one. What a gruesome death. Appropriate for such a vile human.

Danyal looks at people he can consider friends. He could see worry and Nightwing's and Spoiler's eyes, respect in Red Hood mannerism and confusion in Black Bat's body language. He has made sure no one sees Ra's body when he kills him since he knows some of them can read body language too well.

Looking at Talia, his sister, Danyal gives a nod, disperse the ice and disappears. Talia later takes control of all the assassins and they return back to their base after a quick talk with Batman. They heard the conversation from inside the dome. So they knew a little about what was happening.

After that night, Phantom completely disappears without any trace whatsoever.

[thequeenofneverland1]

Being the Granddaughter of Oh Il-nam and the wife of the Front Man Would Include

Anonymous Request: hi can you do a headcannon of Being the Granddaughter of Oh Il-nam and the Wife of the Front Man Would Include please and thank you!!

You were deeply involved in the creation of the Squid Game, working alongside your grandpa.

Some of the iconic games, especially the more psychologically challenging ones, were your ideas. “What do you think about this, Grandpa? Imagine the fear when they realize the glass could break beneath them.” Your grandpa chuckled, patting your shoulder. “You’re as sharp as I hoped you’d be. This one will keep them on their toes.”

You first noticed the man when he participated in the games.

Although you only saw him through the screens, his determination and strategic mind stood out to you. “Player 132 is different,” you mused, watching him survive yet another round. “He’s not just playing to win. he’s observing, planning.” Your grandpa nodded beside you. “Those are the qualities of a survivor. Let’s see if he has what it takes.”

When he emerged as the winner, you were impressed and curious. Your grandpa invited him for a private meeting. “You didn’t just win the game; you conquered it,” your grandpa said, offering him a drink.” He glanced at the two of you cautiously. “I survived because I had no other choice. What do you want from me now?” Your grandpa smiled. “To give you a choice. Join us, and I’ll show you a world you could never imagine.”

Your grandpa made him his right-hand man for the following game, a decision that surprised you. Why him?” you asked your grandpa. “He’s new to all of this.” That’s exactly why,” your grandpa replied. “He sees things we don’t. Watch and learn, my dear.”

During the next game, you and he spent more time together as you helped him adjust to his new role. You’re surprisingly calm for someone thrown into all this,” you said one evening, handing him a report. He smirked. “And you’re surprisingly warm for someone who helps create these games.”

After working together for months, the bond between you grew stronger, and he finally decided to confess his feelings. “Can I ask you something?” he said one evening as you walked together near the game facility.” You glanced at him. “What’s on your mind?”He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I know this world we’re in isn’t exactly normal, but… I like you. A lot. Would you be my girlfriend?”You smiled, feeling warmth in a life otherwise filled with coldness. “I thought you’d never ask. Yes, I will.”

Your grandpa’s passing was sudden, leaving both of you to navigate the aftermath. He wanted you to lead this,” you told him, holding back tears. “He believed in you.”He looked at you, his expression conflicted. “I don’t know if I can live up to that.”

When He Became the Front Man “Are you ready to take the responsibility?” You asked he donned the mask for the first time. “Of course I am and having you by my side. We will be unstoppable.” 

Despite the darkness surrounding your lives, he proposed to you in one of the rare quiet moments He reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring. “I don’t have much to offer except this life we’ve built. Will you marry me?” Tears filled your eyes as you nodded. “Yes. I’ve already chosen this life with you. might as well make it official.”

Married life in your world was unlike anything normal couples experienced. You worked side by side, overseeing the games while trying to keep some semblance of normalcy.

As your marriage went on working together to create new games, each more elaborate and psychological than the last. “What about a game that tests loyalty?” you suggested one evening. “Make them choose between saving themselves or someone else.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Cruel, but effective. That’s why I need you. always one step ahead.”

The next game began, and together you implemented new challenges, ensuring they would be more psychological and intense than ever. “This one will push them to their limits,” you said, reviewing the game plan. He nodded, looking at your mask and his. “They’ll either survive or break. That’s the point.”

[daceydeath]

I Want to Watch (Part 8)

Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader x Seonghwa x San Word Count: 4.7K Genre: Pure Filth Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Explicit Activities

Wooyoung has a brilliant idea he just needs some of the demon line to help him bring the plan together

a/n: Happy New Year my loves. Thank you so much for your love and support for 2024 you are all the most wonderful souls there are xx

Watching Wooyoung perform was one of your favorite things watching him be loved and adored by his precious Atiny and seeing him be free to do exactly what he was born to do made you so happy. But watching the the others now was very different to how it had been before each powerful hip thrust and sensual body roll had you pressing your thighs together tightly remembering how good each of them felt when they had been with you and throw in the way Seonghwa and San performed when they went into full performance mode you could feel your face getting hot and your underwear sticking to you.

You had a spot on the barricade like you always did when they had a concert that you could attend. None of Atiny knew you existed so you played the part of an excited fan and chatted with them always comparing favorite songs and choreographies with them. Tonight was different though the air felt heavier than normal and there was also the fact that after Wooyoung had found you in the crowd you noticed how much more the boys would come to that part of the stage when they were flirting with the crowd. At one point Wooyoung and San were having a competition as to who could make the crowd scream louder as they continually rolled their hips six feet from you, after the MATZ performance where you were sure they were doing this on purpose if the devilish look in both Seonghwa and Hongjoong's eyes held any meaning so you waited with baited breath for the security to come and escort you backstage to where your boyfriend would be waiting along with his delicious members.

"You were amazing Woo" you grinned letting him wrap his arms around you and pull you against him peppering your face with kisses.

"Did you like it? We changed a few things in a couple of the choreographies to make it hotter" he grinned hands sliding down your back to squeeze your arse.

"Believe me I noticed" you smirked playfully hitting his shoulder to get him to let go of you "but you really need to shower my love, you stink".

"Aww let me fuck you first? then I only have to shower once" he purred against your ear quietly making goosebumps erupt across your skin.

"Nope" you popped your lips as you enunciated the word "You can just shower twice".

"You just want to flirt with the others" he pouted prettily, making you reach up to kiss him again, this time letting your lips linger.

"No I'm not despite how much you told them to drive me insane" you tilted your head and raised an eyebrow at him as he dissolved into giggles and walked towards the showers. You sat on one of the couches to wait for him watching everyone take photos and get ready for the send off. San was drying his hair having already showered and Mingi was putting on rings he hadn't worn onstage. Hongjoong plopped down on the chair across from you, drinking deeply from a plastic cup.

"Did you enjoy the show?" he smiled cheekily, the tip of his tongue tracing his top teeth.

"Very much" you nodded, throwing his mischievous energy right back at him making him chuckle deeply. "But I always do".

"That's good sweetheart, we tried to look our best for you" Seonghwa grinned sitting beside you while their managers fussed around getting things finalized and packed up.

"I noticed, was that your idea or my beloved Wooyoung's?" you played along like it was just casual conversation and not blatant flirting from the two eldest members "the demon line was out for blood tonight".

"I wouldn't say blood" Hongjoong drawled sensually, his eyes darkening as you bit your lip softly.

"More like cum" San whispered against the shell of your ear, you hadn't even noticed him moving towards you too enthralled by the other two. You jumped slightly hearing him chuckle deeply behind you, his hands moving to grab your shoulders gently "Sorry princess, didn't mean to scare you".

"Pricks the lot of you" you grumbled as Seonghwa and Hongjoong joined in laughing along with San.

"After the send off I think your precious Wooyoung has something he wants to ask you?" San continued rubbing his hands along the tops of your arms teasingly.

"Of course he does" you smirked as their managers started getting the others ready to head out again.

You sat on your phone watching the TikToks appear as Atiny's uploaded clips of the members signing photocards and answering questions, and the odd one of them flirting shamelessly, you couldn't help but laugh at how other Atiny responded the endless thirsty replies were hilarious. But you couldn't help but notice something naughty lingering in Wooyoung's eyes in each and every clip where he played up for the camera, something you couldn't quite put your finger on. You heard Jongho and Yeosang come back signaling the end of the send off knowing that meant you would be heading out sometime in the next half an hour but you couldn't help the nerves that started fluttering in your tummy at the various thoughts of what was to come. When your boyfriend returned he was looking at you with dark hungry eyes, his hands latching onto your hips as he held you close to him.

"We're not going back to the dorm tonight baby, and you are definitely not sleeping" he purred in your ear teasingly rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb.

"Alright" you swallowed hard trying to keep your face neutral "Did I need to go home to get anything?".

"Nah I bought stuff for you from the dorm. I have something planned that I hope you will be ok with" he kissed the shell of your ear making a shiver run down your spine you were already intrigued but now you were down right horny the thought of more than one of them fucking you was getting you wetter than you really should be.

"What have you planned, Woo?" you asked shakily clenching your legs together one more to ease the dull ache forming in your core.

"You will have to wait and see baby" he cooed letting you go and moving to grab his bags ready to leave. You followed the managers moving to get into one of the vans that was waiting so that the waiting fans wouldn't see you. Sitting in the back of the van you fiddled with your shirt you hadn't been expecting anything to happen after a performance Wooyoung only usually had energy for a quicky to get the last of his adrenaline so you weren't even wearing anything particularly sexy. Your thoughts were broken by the door sliding open and Seonghwa stepping in followed by San and finally your mischievous boyfriend, their eyes all looking you over in a way that was far too predatory for you to not flush with desire. San was the one that moved to the spot beside you, his hand sliding up your thigh until he was cupping your core, the warmth of his hand making you unconsciously spread your thighs for him.

"Acting like a little slut already?" Wooyoung mused his voice deep as he watched you flush deepen "Letting almost anyone touch you now huh?"

"No, Woo just who you let touch me" you whimpered needily embarrassed that you were getting riled up so easily.

"That's right baby only who I let touch you and right now that's all three of us" he giggled evilly making your eyes widen and San put more pressure against you the heel of his hand grinding against your folds.

"Are you going to be a good girl?" Seonghwa smiled sexily "let us all play with your pretty little pussy?".

"I'll be so good for you" you whined rolling your hips against San's hand only for him to pull it away from you.

"Nah uh princess you are not in control tonight" San scolded playfully, his voice dangerously low. You pouted your wide eyes looking at him pleadingly.

"Aww so cute sweetheart" Seonghwa soothed his honey voice filling you with warmth. The van pulled up suddenly, your eyes darting around to figure out where you were making Wooyoung laugh at you.

"You are so easy to distract baby" he snickered putting his mask on and covering his head with his hood the others all following suit as they got out of the van and walked into the hotel lobby you bringing up the rear the way one of their managers would as Wooyoung walked over to the reception desk to check in.

"Why are we at a hotel?" you whispered to San your brows furrowed in confusion.

"So we don't get any noise complaints silly princess" San answered like it was obvious making you close your mouth quickly. Wooyoung collected the key and you all followed him towards the elevator letting him press the button to the room's floor.

"When we get to the room you should go change while we set everything up baby, is that ok?" your boyfriend asked softly.

"Only if you tell me what is happening afterwards" you swallowed "I know you have all agreed on something but I haven't yet" you added your tone hushed.

"Of course" your boyfriend answered sweetly "We just need you ready before we start anything then if you want to change what is happening we will".

"We will never do anything you don't like sweetheart" Seonghwa murmured.

"Yeah, only things that you will really like" San continued winking at you in the mirrored door of the elevator interior. You rolled your eyes and followed Wooyoung out into the hall which was surprisingly short.

"Huh?" you blinked as Wooyoung opened one of only two doors in the hall.

"This is the penthouse baby, we can make as much noise as we like and no one will complain" he answered your unasked question before kissing you lightly and giving you the duffle bag he was carrying "Your clothes and stuff are in there".

You wandered into the bedroom dropping the bag on the bed and opening it to find that your sweet and incredibly horny boyfriend had packed almost every set of underwear you had kept as his place. Every set that he determined to be his favorite had been packed. You selected a light pink set that came with a garter belt that made you feel sexy when you wore it and covered yourself with one of Wooyoung's shirts so that none of them would see it until you were ready. Walking back to the seating area of the suit you found San and Wooyoung shirtless and Seonghwa with his unbuttoned only and a camera sitting on a tripod in the middle of the room.

"Why is there a camera?" you stopped in your tracks feeling trepidation tinge your excitement.

"I wondered if you would be happy making a little movie for me" Wooyoung smiled softly moving towards you to cup your face "for when I'm on tour and stuff".

“Well that depends” you batted your eyelashes trying to look as innocent as possible while wetting your lower lip with the tip of your tongue “What will I be doing in this movie of yours?”.

“Well I thought perhaps I’ll film it and you can work out what you would like to do with my very eager members” Wooyoung grinned, kissing you slowly, his hands creeping down your body to lift the hem of his shirt to expose your hips.

“Fuck princess you always wear the cutest little things” San purred sliding his hands around your waist and tugging you from your boyfriends grasp his lips finding the skin of your neck kissing and teasing your sensative flesh.

“Couldn’t agree more” Seonghwa hummed his lips coming to claim yours fiercely, his kisses far more passionate while Wooyoung moved away to pick up the camera.

“Shall we see where this goes?” Wooyoung chuckled teasingly.

San eagerly ran his hands up your body taking the oversized shirt that was covering you with them exposing the rest of you to Seonghwa before he helped pull it over your head gently. While Seonghwa was more than happy cupping your breasts and letting his lips wander against your neck and down to your collarbone and chest.

"So fucking pretty baby" Wooyoung cooed from across the room the camera already focused on you while you shivered in their grasp.

"The prettiest" Seonghwa agreed, mouthing at the flesh of your tits.

"The most perfect" San continued claiming your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as he licked into your mouth. You whimpered as the pair of them each made you feel like you were the luckiest girl on the planet.

"I think San should fuck her first" Seonghwa breathed heavily tweaking your nipples through the pink lace. San didn't say anything, merely spinning you to face him so he could pick you up and carry you to the couch so he could sit with you straddling his thighs and keep you as close as possible as he teased you.

"Sannie" you whispered needily nibbling his bottom lip as he grabbed your arse harshly.

"Fuck how can you already be this wet we have barely touched you" San groaned lifting you off his lap slightly you realized to let Wooyoung film you better.

"Like you didn't expect this after how you performed tonight?" you teased playing up for them all. "You were all hot, half dressed and dancing like you were already fucking me". Seonghwa laughed musically behind you lounging on another couch adding to the deep chuckle that emanated from San's wide chest.

"Glad you noticed princess" he smirked his fingers tracing your wet folds through the flimsy ` fabric making you wiggle in his lap, your hips chasing his fingertips "We had to make sure you were paying attention".

"Sannie, please" you whined softly rolling your hips tentatively against his digits.

“Such a good girl when you want to be” Wooyoung murmured quietly.

San kissed his way down your neck while sliding the lace aside as teasingly tracing your slit before sinking one finger inside of you smirking against you as you mewled softly and pushed your hips against him. Torturously he took his time dragging it against your walls not letting you have the pleasure you were trying to get from him as you rolled your hips again to push him deeper. 

“So impatient sweetheart” Seonghwa tutted, making you look back at him with wide doe eyes.

“Attention only on me princess” San tutted, slipping his finger back out of you completely leaving you empty.

“Please Sannie. I will be good. I promise” you begged already too desperate for one of them to actually fuck you after the teasing from the concert, the car ride and now.

“I’m not sure I believe you princess” San purred, moving you out of his lap and turning you so you were now bent over the arm of the couch. You whimpered in anticipation only to jump and squeak when his hand came down sharply to slap your left cheek leaving it stinging before he squeezed it gently to soothe it making you swallow hard and your walls clench around nothing all three of them chuckled at the flush that covered your face as San’s hand came down harshly again against the right cheek this time a sharp gasp falling from your lips as the damp patch on your underwear grew before their eyes.

“Oh sweetheart, who knew you were going to like to be punished?” Seonghwa groaned, palming himself through his pants. Wooyoung was looking desperate like he needed to touch himself but didn’t want to put the camera down as he filmed the pink handprints forming on your arse.

“Fuck I am going to have to start spanking you baby” Wooyoung agreed leaving his own light spank against you making you almost hum.

“Put the camera on the table Woo, I’ve got an idea” San grinned, pulling you upright and helping you towards the glass sliding panels that separated the lounge from the entryway. “I’d fuck you against the windows princess but I’m not sure your boyfriend would let me show you off like that”.

Pushing your chest against the glass San pulled off his sweats and lowered himself to the carpet behind you pulling your underwear aside and pushing his tongue inside your weeping hole making you moan loudly, his fingers digging into your hips to hold you still as he licked and sucked at your clit before pumping his tongue inside you again.

“God Sannie, more” you cried pressing your hips further against his face while he lapped at you frantically causing the heat in your belly to begin rising rapidly. San didn’t answer, he simply stood quickly and lined himself up bottoming out inside you with one long deep thrust almost knocking the breath from you.

“Princess” San grunted deeply, slowly rolling his hips against you for a moment to let you adjust and let your boyfriend get in position to put the camera down before slamming into you roughly and making you groan. “So tight and wet for me”.

“Always Sannie” you gasped resting your face against the cool glass as he continued to roughly rut into you each thrust kissing your cervix in a way that was making you dizzy “Sannie”.

“Good girl princess, take what I give you” San almost snarled his hips slapping against your skin loudly as the wet squelch of your pussy swallowing him filled the quiet room. 

“You look gorgeous like this baby” Wooyoing whispered, stroking himself in time with San’s hips bucking against his hand as you wailed wantonly.

“Going to let me fill you up all night princess?” San moaned his pace still rough and deep as kissed the back of your neck and shoulders.

“Please Sannie, please” you sobbed your walls quivering with how close you were “want your cum”.

“Fuck princess” San groaned biting down on your shoulder lightly licking and sucking a mark there.

“San. Wooyoung. San. San” you called as your walls clamped down around San, your legs shaking so wildly that San wrapped his arm around your waist to hold you up. “Fuck San”. You could feel your vision blur as tears pricked your eyes and your arousal dripped from you coating your thighs and San while he continued to roll his hips chasing his own high.

“Princess, fuck” he shouted slaming his hips against you and holding you closely against his as the warmth of his seed filled you.

Oh my god baby” Woo breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling as hard as yours “I’ve never seen you squirt like that”. You couldn’t answer, you just let San carefully pull himself from you and scoop you up into his arms.

“That was unexpected” Seonghwa stared hungrily at you before moving towards one of their bags and pulling out a bottle of water and some wet wipes to clean you up with. “I think we need to give you a minute before I have my turn huh?”.

Sipping the water slowly you let Seonghwa clean you up not minding that his touches lingered and turned from the act of helping you from being a mess to massaging your thighs and hips then anywhere else he could reach. The haze that had filled your head after San had finished with you started to lift and before you could even realize you were letting soft little noises fall from your swollen lips.

“That’s it sweetheart, let me take good care of you” Seonghwa whispered sultrily hovering over you as he kissed from your stomach to your breasts gently biting and licking at your soft body.

“Mmmhmm” you hummed, nodding lazily as he let his tongue lick at your nipple through the almost sheer lace of your bra arching into him when his teeth grazed the hardened bud. 

Will you give me what you gave Sannie?” he continued taking your other nipple into his mouth and suckling at it, making your breath hitch.

“Yes Hwa” you answered breathily, your fingers sliding into his hair to scratch at his scalp. Seonghwa repeated his previous action grazing his teeth on your sensitive nipple as he slid his fingers into your underwear circling your clit with feather light touches to make you squirm. 

“Can’t believe she can still be so responsive after you fucked her like that” Wooyoung muttered to San who just shrugged watching you move so gracefully for his hyung.

“I want her again after Hwa” San grinned wolfishly, making you whimper and buck against Seonghwa’s fingers.

“Don’t be greedy Sannie” Seonghwa smirked, kissing his way to your now throbbing and desperate pussy.

“Hwa, need you” You breathed softly your hand still carding through his hair making his stop and kiss your thigh chastely.

“You’ll have me sweets don’t worry” His voice sweet as he kissed your pubic mound. As soon as his tongue touched your clit you were moaning loudly, the overstimulation pushing you to your limit. The wet muscle swirling around your puffy slit and sensitive bud were instantly too much and not enough at the same time. Gripping his hair tighter you rolled your hips against his face, your head flopping back on the couch cushions as he finally plunged it inside you. 

“Fuck” your boyfriend grunted moving so he could get a better angle to film you from as Seonghwa devoured you like he was a man dying of thirst and you were the only source of water to sake that thirst. Slurping and sucking every drop of your juices he could get from you. Wrapping his pretty hands around your thighs Seonghwa pulled you even closer to him grunting as you clawed at his hair.

“Hwa, please, don't stop, please” you babbled rocking your hips even harder against his face hiccuping as you moaned. Seonghwa groaned against you, sucking your clit between his lips to suckle it, roughly pushing two of his fingers into you to pump into your walls in time with his tongue. “Seonghwa” You sobbed, coming undone on his face as your eyes rolled back in your head.

“Good girl sweets” Seonghwa praised, pulling his face away from your twitching core but letting his fingers continue to pump lazily into you to continue your pleasure. “Do you think you can move? Or should I carry you?” 

You opened your mouth to answer only to have your words cut off by a gasp and Seonghwa pressed his thumb against your clit making your legs twitch involuntarily while he snickered scooping you into his arms and taking you into the bedroom where he placed you gently in the centre of the bed your face pressed into the crisp white sheets. Seonghwa’s fingers trailed lightly down your spine making you shiver. You heard Wooyoung and San come in and the click of something plastic but you couldn’t concentrate, lost in the feeling of Seonghwa’s touch on your burning skin.

“Hongjoong told me your arse his heaven sweets” he purred sexily both of his thumbs now pressing into the flesh above your hip bones.

“Fuck yes” your boyfriend hissed lowly his voice thick with desire again.

“How about you be a good girl and suck Sannie’s cock while I get you prepped?” Seonghwa chuckled watching you get to your hands and knees and open your mouth to let your tongue poke out ready for San to let you have his dick again.

“Such a good little slut baby” Woo cooed moving so he could get a good shot of you taking San into your waiting mouth. San’s wicked grin only faulted when you circled the blush pink head dipping the tip into his already pre cum drooling slit.

“Fuck yeah princess” he groaned gutterally sliding himself along your tongue until he was almost touching the back of your throat. You gasped as you felt the cold drop of lube drip onto your puckered hole, accidentally gagging yourself on San’s length.

“Aww is someone too excited to have a cock in both ends?” Seonghwa teased his thumb slowly pushing inside of you carefully.

“Focus on me princess and just relax” San coaxed cupping your cheek with his strong hand and guiding you to help you get your rhythm back. You couldn’t help swirling your tongue around him again as he began to pull himself back from your mouth only to have him moan deeply and sink himself back into your warm mouth “Your mouth is perfect”.

Breathing deeply through your nose you tried to ignore the slight pleasure that was coming from Seonghwa’s fingers as he sank another into you stretching you further and focus on getting San’s cock as far down your throat as you can humming and swallowing around the tip as your nosed brushed the soft skin of his torso.

“Shit, princess” San hissed, threading his fingers into your hair and rolling his hips against your lips “You going to swallow every drop?”. You moaned unable to do much else as San fucked your throat gently your saliva dripping from your stretched lips and onto your chin as he sped up. His hips stuttered slightly as he got closer to filing your throat up.

“Good girl sweets” Seonghwa praised slipping his fingers from you and replacing them with the head of his dick prodding your hole just enough for it to stretch for him but not enough to actually enter you. You whined pathetically tears forming in the corners of your eyes as you looked up as San.

“Made just for us” San rasped, his voice tight, his head dropping forward as he stiffened on your tongue flooding your throat and mouth with thick spurts of cum. You could hear your boyfriends affirmative whine as you swallowed everything San gave you and opened your mouth to show him. Seonghwa took that as his permission to push himself inside you, your eyes rolling back in your head as he filled your tight hole, his fingers finding your clit to keep you feeling good as you adjusted to him.

“Oh my god Hwa” you whimpered, your arms giving out causing you to fall forward onto the bed.

“Fuck” Seonghwa grunted harshly pulling your hips back towards him and thrusting slowly and deeply. “You’re unreal, perfect, fuck you’re a goddess” he gushed each word punctuated by a roll of his hips.

“Shit I want her arse next time we do this” San panted from where he was flopped on the bed beside you.

“Hwa” you called, your voice muffled by the bedding as he continued to thrust deeper inside of you, his fingers continuing to circle your puffy and oversensitive clit.

“I’m not going to last long sweetheart” Seonghwa moaned loudly, snapping his hips against you, the sharp snap of skin against skin filling the room between the sounds of heavy breathing and the wet sounds of your used body.

“Fuck dude, that’s so hot” Wooyoung groaned making you turn your head to see him tugging his cock in time with Seonghwa’s hips as he filmed the two of you. You felt Seonghwa’s hips start to stutter as he sped up his fingers pinching and flicking your clit until you almost cried.

“Seonghwa” you sobbed as your orgasm washed over you suddenly making your whole body shake and spasm.

“Fuck Sweetheart…fuck” Seonghwa yelled cumming hard as you clenched around him, you could feel his hot seed filling you as he held you in place shallowly rolling his hips to prolong his pleasure. 

“Jesus Christ” San groaned, helping you lower your body to the bed, your leg muscles still twitching as Seonghwa cleaned himself up and grabbed you something to drink. Wooyoung grinned at you brilliantly, finally putting down the camera and pulling you into his arms.

“Love you” he whispered into your hair, kissing your temple.

“Love you Woo” you panted softly.

“I think we might all have to shower together after that” Seonghwa chuckled while carefully sitting himself on Wooyoung’s other side “Not sure you should stand by yourself for a while”. 

a/n: Thank you for reading lovelies I adore you all and I am so grateful for your likes, reblogs, comments and support you are amazing xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar

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@leeknowinggg @tanzen-ist-gold @taz-97 @ocean-dreamer-sky-chaser @everythingboutkpop @tunafishyfishylike

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@skersey33 @jintastic-day @hwxbibi @onmykneesforateez @skittyneos @thjksnsh

[your-hockey-mom]

Happy New Year!! Could you possibly do an imagine about kissing Q at midnight? Ty!!

10:43pm. 

Was it really New Year's Eve already? It was incredible how quickly the year had flow. So much had happened between Quinn and yourself; some for the better and worse. Right now, things were bad again. Not between the two of you, but with the team and with his ability to stay healthy. After healing fully from the high-sticking, you thought Quinn was going to get back to his old self, sniping wristers from the blue line and stacking up points for a back-to-back Norris run. Sadly, he was looking at another two to three weeks of off-ice rest, not counting the time off during Christmas. 

Quinn hadn't traveled to Calgary with the rest of the Canucks and you could feel the effects of Quinn not being with his boys while you sat beside him in his living room. He hadn't said a whole lot today, nor had you pressed him for conversation. If he wanted to talk, he knew you were available. Other than that, you had left him alone. However, it was nearing an hour from the new year and you were itching for something to do. 

"Wanna get dressed up and take a walk downtown?" You turned toward him on the sofa, crossing your legs up under you. You weren't sure how your proposition was going to over, but you would remain hopeful nonetheless. 

Quinn sighed deeply, "Not really. I'm not in a 'going out' mood. I'm sorry, sweetheart." He would look up from his phone and give you a sympathetic glance. It was all over his face that he had no interest in leaving his apartment that evening. Normally, you'd share that same sentiment, but New Year's was once a year, and it wasn't often that Quinn was home for the holiday. You just thought that maybe he would want something to get his mind off the raincloud over his head.

You both had watched the game together. He was tense the entire time, like he was on the bench and completely powerless to command this team. Everything was a struggle, but when they had finally tied it up there was some hope that they could still turn it around. Unfortunately, the score would end with a 3-1 Canucks loss and Quinn shaking his head. This was two games without their captain they would lose, and another two points they wouldn't be going home with. 

Leaving him alone with his thoughts and whatever business he was doing on his phone, you tried to keep yourself awake and the collective mood in the apartment from completely going to shit. Watching any kind of movie was out, because you knew his mind would be elsewhere, but what could you do where it wouldn't be back in the arena, replaying plays and fixing errors? You'd pout as you bounced from idea to idea before you felt your stomach grumble. 

"Wanna bake some cookies?"

This would cause him to put his phone down, like it had been the magic words he didn't know he needed to hear. "I'd actually love that."

You'd give him a warm, beaming smile before hopping to your feet and excitedly hurrying to the kitchen. Now, you nervously hoped that you actually had everything needed for cookies! 

"What do you need me to do?" Quinn would ask, looking at you on your tip-toes, going through the cabinet before finally getting up to help you. 

"Can you grab the eggs and butter? We should have enough eggs.... I hope so anyway!" You remarked nervously. 

"Sure," he replied flatly, taking a moment to scan the interior of the fridge. "Anything else?"

"Nope! That's it for the cold stuff, thank you."

"Mhm."

Quinn would shuffle around to the island, taking a seat while you messed about, adding more and more ingredients to the space in front of him. You knew he was trying his hardest to come off as happy, but you knew he was having a hard time. You wouldn't press him to cheer up, and if he had wanted to go back to the living room, leaving you to finish them, it wouldn't have bothered you.

"Sorry I'm not much help," he mumbled, like he had read your mind. 

"What? Oh, you're okay, baby! I'm glad you're here, that's enough!" Your smile had brought a little glimmer to his eyes while he continued to sit and watch. Quinn had been the only boyfriend you had had where just being in the same space with him brought you joy even if you were both doing different things. You could feel him watching you, making you smile more when you had your back to him. The slight squeak of him moving back his chair had been the only indication that he was on the move. 

"What can I do to help?" He would say, snuggling in tightly to your body, making it near impossible to move anywhere. 

You'd take a minute to think of what you could have him do, but you also didn't want to take him out of his comfort zone. 

"Can you just keep doing what you're doing?"

"Just...holding you?"

"Mhm!" You giggled, reaching for the sack of flour and measuring cups, struggling to reach due to Quinn's grasp. "I'm not asking for too much, am I?"

"Not at all. I just feel guilty watching you do everything." His voice was low, and sprinkled with the sound of depression and anguish. You knew that's how he had felt watching the games he couldn't participate in: hopeless and useless. 

"Well, I can't hold myself," you laughed, overlapping your hands on his at your waist. "You're doing a great job."

Quinn would playfully scoff at you giving him a verbal gold star, but deep down, he was so thankful that you didn't ridicule him when he got in these moods. He knew he could be so hard to deal with and the fact that you took every one of them at stride meant so much. Tonight was no different. 

The minutes would tick by quickly as you measured numerous ingredients into varying bowls before finally combining them into one, homogeneous mixture resembling chocolate chip cookie dough. From time-to-time, Quinn would dip a single finger into the dough, and each time you would softly tap him on the hand.

"Baby!"

"Quality control test," Quinn teased.

"You've said that three times now! Don't make yourself sick!"

He would let his arms fall from around your body, when you hinted that you needed to move away from where you had been standing. He seemed to be in a slightly lighter mood, having peppered you with delicate kisses the whole time you worked. How you loved having him home with you, just doing silly little domestic things like a normal couple did. However, having a partner like Quinn, and his profession, you never took the little things for granted. 

"Okay, fifteen to seventeen minutes," you said, putting the filled pans into the already hot and ready oven. You'd set the timer and walk back to him as he leaned against the counter. Quinn smiled at you, taking your hands in his at his sides. 

"Now we wait?" He asked, blinking slow, like he was fighting sleep despite being awake at this time rather often. 

"Mhm, come on, baby. You look exhausted," you confessed, trying to drag him back towards the direction of the living room. 

"I'm okay. I'm afraid if I sit down I'm going to fall asleep."

You acknowledged the truth in his words before another brilliant idea came to your mind. "Oh! I know! Wait right here, 'kay?"

Regrettably, you'd let go of his hands so you could cross the room and dim the kitchen lights to a low, golden glow. 

"Alexa, play Moonlight Serenade," you'd ask, returning to Quinn's arms. 

"Playing Moonlight Serenade, by Glenn Miller on Amazon Music."

Quickly, the apartment was filled with the crackling of a vintage record recording and the 1940s orchestra that was responsible. It was an easy enough waltz to sway to in the comfort of each other's company, there in the kitchen while the cookies bubbled and baked in the oven. Quinn would smile over your shoulder the whole time, having finally been able to shake off the feelings of failure. 

"Everybody loves somebody sometime~," Dean Martin would croon through the apartment's speakers. "And although my dream was overdue, your love made it well worth waiting for someone like you~

You couldn't help but giggle. It was like the song was saying what you were feeling and Quinn held the same sentiment. Silently, you two would continue to dance together to the love songs of old until the beeping of the timer pulled you apart. You'd both turn to see that the clock also read 12:00. 

"Happy New Year's, baby," Quinn would say first, tipping your chip up towards his awaiting lips. 

"Happy New Year's!" You replied, your lips just hovering next to his. The kiss was long, and sweet and everything you wanted to welcome in the new year with. Neither of you would let the other go for several minutes after, sharing multiple more affections until Quinn reminded you of the cookies.

"I'd really hate for your hard work to go to waste. We can always finish this later," he chuckled, pulling you in for one more heartfelt kiss. 

"Well, we'll have another fifteen to seventeen minutes," you winked, taking the pans out of the oven. "Does that work for you?"

"Oh, absolutely."

[mcytshipsandmore]

Mumbo deserves to be kissed by hot women.

Mumbo/Pearl? Two incredibly intelligent nerds who hide their level of obsession and insanity through the thin veil of being the "straightman" in the bits or just not mentioning the insane things they do (Pearl fucking WON decked out 2, Mumbo brought forth an entire new form of combat to the life series because he gave himself a challenge on HC s8 which he researched the fuck out of)

Mumbo/Gem- Two incredibly sassy and overcompetitive people who have intense bloodthirst. Like, Mumbo just needs an inch of Confidence and a reminder that he can be jokingly mean (like cleo level) and he won't be hurting someone's feelings- and this man can go for the fucking THROAT like, the start of this season??? God, if this man had a villian voice it would be so over for me- cough but that's besides the point- THE COMPETITIVENESS like, They both have this want to win, Mumbo normally resigns himself to loosing from the get go, but when he doesn't god- and Gem??? Yeah I don't need to explain. Also, both of them love killing other folks and binding over it. Like, when Mumbo gets to just kill and be a gremlin? (That end crystal quad kill would have been beautiful)

Anyways, secret life is to blame for these thoughts and Jesus fuck hermitcraft s8, s10, and WL have only compounded them. Pearl flustering Mumbo with praise after he directly states he can't handle it and folds in on himself from it?? Gem asking Mumbo to BARK??? LIKE- oh and add Gem calling Mumbo "her's" from that one WL session

- 👁🎭 anon

Gem and Pearl love their sopping wet man

-🍫

[aerynwrites]

Familiarity

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Summary: Reader has reached their breaking point and Simon just happens to be in the right place at the right time. Word Count: 2.8k Warnings: **PLEASE READ ALL TAGS!!!** Descriptions of Suicidal thoughts, ideation, and attempted Suicide!!! Thwarted suicide attempt, hurt/comfort, this really is just a coping piece, no romance, tiny bit of fluff at the end kinda. A/N: if you are struggling with thoughts like these please reach out to somone (988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline). The anniversary of a friends passing occurred recently and I was having a harder time with it than usual. this popped into my head and wouldn't leave. I wish someone had been there for them in that moment. If you are struggling with thoughts like these please reach out to someone. there is ALWAYS someone who cares and will miss you. You are loved. You matter. And someones life won't be the same without you.

It’s cold. Colder than you were expecting it to be tonight, but maybe that would make it easier. you heard somewhere once that the cold water would shock the body and make you breathe in and then…

You shiver despite the winter jacket you wear, the only thing grounding you in this moment the paint flecking off beneath your fingers of the decrepit metal bridge, the cold seeping into your bones. The rubber soles of your boots squeak softly on the railing beneath them, the water rushing quietly a few hundred feet below. It had just rained for almost a week straight, the river is higher than normal, the current tumultuous. It would be quick.

You hope.

It’s also more lonely than you expected - as odd as that may sound. In reality you did pick this spot for a reason, not only because you drove by it often, but because it seemed desolated. Less likely for someone to roll up on you in this precarious moment. But you thought there might be birds singing or crickets chirping or…something except your own screaming thoughts and the breath catching in your throat.

Your eyes drift upwards, away from the watery tomb that lies in your future, out to your shitty car parked in the tiny gravel lot by the start of the bridge. You can see the faint white outline of the envelope you left behind sitting on the dash. You didn’t want anyone wasting resources on searching for you, so you left a note behind - and to maybe give closure to anyone who might care.

The cold air sears your lungs as you take a deep breath, knees quaking beauty you as you let it out again, lifting one foot from the railing to lean ever so slightly forward…

——

He couldn’t sleep. Again.

He’s used to that, used to the nightmares and the evil thoughts that taunt him in the early waking hours. But ever since Johnny…they’ve been worse - they never stop and they’re louder. This time he woke up in a cold sweat, Johnny’s voice echoing in his head, a scream he never really let out before he…

Simon clenches the steering wheel tighter, the leather of his gloves creaking with the strength of it.

He’s never taken this route before, but he needs to get away, needs the distraction of discovering and then trying to find his way back. Left, right, straight, left again, go through the stop sign and then…

A bridge.

One he’s never seen before, and on any other night, one he would’ve driven right past if it weren’t for the silhouette his headlights illuminate on the bridge as he turns on the road to pass it. He notices the car next, and tiny little alarm bells go off in his head. And, shamefully, a louder voice just tells him to move on this isn’t his business and he just needs to leave-

He parks his truck beside the car. Gravel crunching under his boots as he exits. His training kicks in without his approval, the part of him that has been taught to observe and gather information. It’s what makes him glance at the interior of the older model sedan, and at first there’s nothing unusual. Trash in the floorboard, mostly fast-food wrappers and…empty pharmacy bags. Articles of clothing tossed in the back seat, multiple old air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror. What strikes him as odd, however, is the handbag abandoned in the passenger seat, cellphone lying next to it, and the white envelope sitting on the dashboard addressed to ‘whom it may concern’ written in shaky script.

His feet carry him towards the bridge before he can think better of it, and the moment he sees the person standing on the railing of the bridge, he feels an almost impercebtible tug in his chest.

Familiarity.

It calls to him, an old friend. The grief, the pain, the anguish, the shame - all of it so consuming and all of it so familiar he can’t stop himself from approaching you. And as he watches your chest heave with a deep breath and your foot lift off the railing as you lean forward, that stupid tug is what makes him call out to you.

“A little cold out for a swim ain’t it?”

———

The voice shocks you, startles you so severely you can’t stop the yelp that slips from your throat as your foot slams back down on the railing, hand scrabbling for purchase against the rusty support beam. You jerk your head to the right to look at the intruder, eyes widening when they fall upon an absolute hulk of a man standing just mere feet from you. His hands are tucked casually into the pockets of his hoodie, stance easy - as if he didn’t just interrupt the most tragic moment of your life-

“What the fuck are you doing?” You practically hiss, indignation bubbling up inside you.

You can’t even manage to kill yourself without something going wrong.

The man shrugs, “Could ask you the same thing.”

He takes a step forward and you bristle, leaning away from him and further towards the water below.

“D-don’t come any closer!” You call, voice shaking despite your best efforts. “I’ll jump. You can’t…you can’t stop me.”

The man just shrugs again, pulling a small carton from the pocket of his hoodie, followed shortly by a lighter. He pulls a cigarette from the box placing it between his lips before lighting it, taking a deep drag before looking up at you again.

“Never said I was tryin’ to stop you,” he says simply, stepping closer to the railing when you don’t protest.

Confusion swims in your belly, heart thundering from the surprise but starting to calm down as the stranger finally comes close enough to lean against the railing you stand on, casting his gaze out over the inky black river.

You finally work up the courage to speak again.

“Then…why are you here?”

The man huffs out a laugh, a bitter dark sounding thing before he takes another drag of his cigarette.

“Couldn’t sleep, needed to clear ‘m head.”

You give a snort of your own, disbelief clogging your mind.

“And you just so happened to come across the person trying to dig her own grave,” you laugh this time, a real one. “What are the fucking odds.”

“Well,” he replies slowly. “You wouldn’t really be diggin’…swimming maybe-”

You scoff again, looking over at him in complete surprise. “You…was that supposed to be a joke?”

You swear you see his lips twitch up in a smile.

“Somethin’ like that.”

Your irritation comes back slightly as your lips tilt downwards. You want to snap at him, tell him to fuck off, to go away and just let you do this in peace - but something stops you. Fear maybe. Curiosity. you’re not sure what it is exactly but it implores you to ask -

“Nightmares?”

More paint chips away beneath your nails, falling down into the waters below, your eyes following its descent. You see the man nod in your peripheral.

“Get ‘em every night…but tonight was worse.”

It falls silent again as his words hang in the air, and neither of you say anything for a long while. You stand there still contemplating your demise and the stranger finishes his cigarette before flicking the butt of it away over the railing.

“I get it you know,” he says finally, voice softer than it has been so far, gentler.

You look at him, brows pinched in confusion, and he gestures to you then the water.

“I get it,” he reiterates, lips pinched in a thin line.

His words earn another scoff from you, and that bitter pit in your chest grows blacker. Darker.

Here we go, you think. Another good samaritan trying to tell you that you have so much to live for. Don’t do it. It will get better. Just look on the bright side.

You shake your head, looking back out over the water.

“I highly doubt it,” you say bitterly, eyes starting to burn with unshed tears that threaten to betray you.

The man shrugs and leans heavier on the railing. “Can’t doubt what you don’t know,” he trails off for a moment. “You wanna talk ‘bout it?”

You shake your head, eyes clenching shut when you feel the tears fall.

Goddammit, not now…

But before you can stop it, words come spilling from your lips, like a waterfall that never ends. All of your woes, your anger, your grief, your sadness, the demons that haunt you both awake and asleep. The perceived failures that never end, the never-ending hopelessness and seems to stretch out before you like a yawning cavern.

All of it.

And he listens.

You don’t even know how long you go on for, voice shaking, tears dripping from your chin, knees quaking beneath you as you dump all of this on some stranger who just happened upon you, until you finally stop, taking a deep shuddering breath and facing the water again.

“I just want it all to be over,” you finally whisper. “I’m so tired.”

The man nods, standing a little straighter now.

“My best friend was shot right in front of me,” he says softly, his own eyes now distant when you look at him.

“We’re military - comes with the territory. But he…” he takes a shaky breath of his own, “Johnny was different.”

A beat of silence.

“I went through all the same shit. Ended up in the same place you are,” he gestures to you, “but instead of a bridge I wanted a bullet. Got plastered, was just about to go through with it when I some how managed to get on the phone with my Captain…” he lets out a sigh that sounds so world weary you feel it in your very bones.

“He talked me down. Helped me get things back on track - as on track as they could be without Johnny.”

He looks to you then, and for the first time since he approached you tonight’s you’re able to see the color of his eyes. They’re brown - a deep dark brown that’s more expressive than you were anticipating.

You study him for a moment longer.

“Is that what you’re here to do? Talk me down?”

The man shakes his head, the movement allowing the light to illuminate the scar that runs from his eyebrow down to his upper lip. Yet another thing you missed.

“No. Don’t need to,” he says casually. “You were never going to jump.”

Indignation flares its ugly head again, but it’s quickly tempered by the confusion bubbling in your belly.

“What…how could you possibly know that? I was going to do it.”

The man shakes his head again, this time turning to face you fully.

“If you were going to do it, you would’ve done it the minute I walked up to you. Now-”

He reaches out a scarred hand, and you see the barest hint of black ink peaking out from beneath his sleeve.

“Let’s get you down from there.”

You hesitate, eyes trailing back to the water rushing beneath you before trailing back to this strange man on the bridge. You could jump, you could do it right now and he wouldn’t get to you in time.

So you turn.

And his hand is surprisingly warm, soft even. Despite the scars and calloused palms. His hand cradles yours so delicately as he helps you down from the railing, his other hand reaching out to grip your waist to ease your descent.

“That’s it.”

Shame washes over you the moment your feet touch solid ground, and the man must senses it, because a firm hand settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently.

“I’m sorry-”

“None of that,” he chastises lightly, shaking his head. “Y’got nothing to be sorry for.”

You can only nod, eyes trailing slowly up from the ground to finally look at him face to face. To some people he might seem scary or intimidating - what with his tall stature and the scars on his face or even his demeanor. But to you, right now, all you can sense is solidarity - a warmth. An understanding you haven’t felt in a long time.

So, before you can really think about what you’re doing you’re leaning forward and wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

He seems surprised by the act, his entire body going stiff beneath your own. But just when you move to pull away, a pair of arms wraps around you in kind. The hug is longer than usual, but it would appear that both of you needed it. And when you do pull away, neither of you step much further apart.

“What’s your name?” You ask, breaking the silence that had fallen over both of you.

He thinks for a moment, as if hesitant to reveal more of himself to you than he already has.

So you extend an olive branch in the form of your own name and watch as his shoulder sag ever so slightly before he answers your question.

“Simon.”

You can only nod, and soon a silence falls over you both once again. This one a bit more tense than the others.

What do you do now? There’s no rulebook for this - not step by step; what to do when someone stops you from jumping off a bridge. There’s so much you want to say, but your thoughts are a jumbled confused mess and now you feel foolish and-

“There’s a spot up the road a ways that opens early,” Simon says, interrupting your thoughts. “I could use a bite. You in?”

The invitation startles you. It’s so casual, so…normal, in the face of what just transpired that you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips at the absurdity of it all. But then you fumble for your phone before remembering you left it in the car.

“Early? What time is it?”

Simon turns a muscled forearm over, tugging at his hoodie sleeve to peak at his watch.

“A little past four a.m.”

You suck in a breath, shock coloring your features. You got to the bridge at midnight. You didn’t even realize how much time had passed…

A gentle pat on your shoulder pulls you back to the moment as Simon turns to start walking back to the small gravel lot.

“Come on,” he says, leaving no room for refusal, “They have good pancakes. Johnny-” you watch as his steps falter slightly before he continues.

“Johnny always raved about them,” he turns back to look at you then. “My treat.”

You manage to send him another small smile, nodding.

“Can’t exactly turn down a free meal, now can I?”

Simon lets out a chuckle, so soft you might have missed it if it wasn’t so quiet out.

“You’d be the first.”

Neither of you say much on the short journey back to your parked cars. Only when you get there, Simon gives you the name of the restaurant to plug into your GPS before turning to walk to his truck.

Your car door squeaks loudly when you open it, and you slide into the drivers seat. Moving to close the door, you pause - the small white envelope catching your eye.

Reaching for it, you take it in hand and eye the shaky writing on the front. Instinctively you want to shove it in your purse, that tiny voice in the back of your head telling you that you’d need it again one day. But another voice, a new one - rough and gravelly with a Manchester accent is just a little bit louder and before you can think twice your out of the car and walking back toward the bridge.

You hear slightly hurried footsteps behind you, and you can picture Simon slightly panicked thinking your rushing back to finish the job. But you stop at the railing, white envelope crushed between your fingers as you look back out over the dark water.

The footsteps behind you stop, assessing, waiting for your next move.

So, with one last glance at the paper in your hands, you take a deep breath and rip in half. Then rip it in half again and again and again - until nothing but tiny scraps remain. The flat between your fingers like sand, falling down, down to the waters below in a manmade snowfall, the wind picking up and carrying pieces away until you can no longer see any evidence of the object at all.

You turn, and Simon is smiling - a real smile.

“Come on,” you say, walking towards him and your parked cars once again. “I want some pancakes.”

And as you both walk together, his shoulder brushing your own…You can’t help but feel just a little bit lighter.

A little less alone.

[mummyscarian]

Mumbo Stole Grian's Soul, and How it Connects to the Life Series

Alternatively, Mumbo Stole Grian's Soul, and How it Saved Everyone.

When Mumbo stole Grian's soul, he really stole it. Like he actually, genuinely stole it---the whole thing. All of it became his. Or, well, not his, exactly---it was still Grian's soul, but it was just in Mumbo's body, yeah?

Mumbo stole it to become human---it was a whole thing, really, he kept turning into a potato, and a golden carrot, and then a pig---oh, it was horrible! And he just needed to be human again. So, of course, the next logical decision was to steal his best friend's soul. Of course.

Grian wasn't exactly thrilled at first---well, he thought it was a joke at first. Mumbo insisted it wasn't, but, well, you can't actually steal someone's soul, can you? Grian went along with the joke, but he didn't feel any different, didn't feel empty or however one was supposed to feel when your soul was missing. Maybe Mumbo meant it metaphorically anyway. Regardless, the moon was big, and they were Watching.

Last Life. A new rendition of the death games the Watchers loved to put him through. And Mumbo was there. Why was Mumbo there? No matter---their minds were not their own, and the Boogeymen were coming. There was no time to think, only to survive. Watching Eyes, Listening Ears, there was never a real escape.

Mumbo died by Grian's own hands, and something felt weird about the world. He could feel it in the air---did everything become just a little more clear? When he looked up, why could he see them Watching? As the Finale neared, he could Remember. This was a death game. He was only meant to Watch---but he chose to Play.

When he died, he Watched. When Scott stood on that tree, and the Watchers started to reach---Grian defied them.

/kill Smajor1995.

He was not supposed to be able to defy Them. He always tried, of course, because who was he if not Grian, the prankster? But, regardless, he could not have defied them in their own world, where they were in control. To send a command like that, to destroy the sanctity of their game?

...Did he have that ability the whole time? The power to---No. He didn't. In 3rd Life, he was powerless. What made Last Life any different? The Watchers kept a grip on him as tight as the other Players, molding his mind into whatever they wanted, making him do horrible things to his friends.

Grian never knew what made it different. The moon was big.

Then it was Season Nine.

Mumbo---well, Last Life wasn't exactly pleasant. His mind hadn't been the greatest lately---not strictly because of Last Life, mind you. He was going through a bit of a slump. Everything had calmed down, after the moon and Last Life, and people were moving on, but he still felt uneasy, and lost, and burnt out. He... needed a break. A vacation.

So, with great hesitancy, and lots of doubt, he took one---went to see what else was out in the world. Hiked, biked, and saw all sorts of beautiful sights. And it... helped, truly, it did. It cleared his mind. He felt...

...human?

Without Mumbo, Grian felt like his soul was missing. Which was weird to say, he knew, because Mumbo had "stolen" his soul, but he just meant it metaphorically, alright? Grian without Mumbo---what was he?

He brought Grumbot back, but it still didn't feel the same. He missed his friend. And he knew it was good for Mumbo, but he still couldn't help but miss him the normal amounts (okay, maybe not the normal amounts, but that was beside the point, alright?).

He still couldn't help but wonder why Last Life ended the way it did, and why the Watchers were so silent. Grian tried to find out if he was somehow stronger, despite revoking his powers before---the Rift. Was it Grumbot, or was it him? He wasn't sure.

Then Double Life happened. And there was no Mumbo.

Things felt weird. Well, things felt normal, but slightly to the left, for a death game. Grian was distinctly aware it was a death game. They all knew it was, but there was always that fog that kept them from truly questioning, from truly fighting it. Complacent. Single-minded. Dependent. ...Violent. Aggressive. Unforgiving. Bloodthirsty.

He could still feel it, but he felt too aware of it. He could Watch the Watchers Watching them.

Double Life---it was short. Grian tried to push against the code keeping them all trapped, but, being bound to Scar---well, maybe Grian got too focused on trying to keep his soulbound (soul?) alive and, by proxy, himself as well.

Watching the Watchers Watch Pearl and Scott---They had more precautions this time, keeping Grian under Watch too. They were... wary. Cautious. Which meant they didn't know how Grian had slipped out from their grasp either.

Hope bloomed for the first time in a long time. A way to fight back, a way to save his friends from the death games---but how? Why? What happened, what was different---

Souls.

The Watchers controlled your soul. They changed its code to change you. Grian knew this very well. They had done this to his own soul many, many times. To his friends' souls.

Mumbo had stolen Grian's soul.

...He had literally stolen Grian's soul.

Grian could have laughed---he did laugh. That bastard. That loveable bastard! And he didn't even realize what he had done!

If Mumbo had Grian's soul, the Watchers couldn't bend him and break him. Grian... was free.

Well. Not entirely. Maybe Grian's soul was free, hidden where the Watchers couldn't find it (because who stole somebody's soul, seriously?). But his friends'...? They weren't. And as long as the Watchers had them... He wouldn't be free either. They used them like pawns to keep him trapped, all as punishment for daring to deny their divine gifts.

...But now he had a trick up his sleeve. A piece of the platform to stand on.

Going AFK during Limited Life was risky, but he trusted his Bad Boys' to protect him. Protect his body. (And Mumbo, unknowingly, or well, a little knowingly now, as of course Grian had told him when he returned from his vacation, protected his soul.) While his... not his mind, exactly, but another part of himself, confronted the Watchers.

This season was prime to be a bloodbath, but it would be the last of its kind, he swore to them. He demanded of them. It was a relentless argument on both sides---Grian wanted his friends to be safe and they threatened to harm them, while Grian withheld what they wanted most. Him.

The Watchers were a possessive bunch, and Grian---Xelqua---was theirs. They wanted him back, they wanted their Watcher back, he was one of Them, and they could not accept that he had dared to leave them. Could not fathom why he would.

There was a compromise---unwilling on both sides.

And so Secret Life was born.

Mumbo was there, and Grian was too scared to get too close to him, for fear that the Watchers would Look a little too close and See. He couldn't choose which players were dragged into these games, and the Watchers had their favorite victims (thankfully, Mumbo wasn't one of them, it seemed, even if he was the coal miner to the canary).

It was a fight for control, the Watchers unwilling to give it up, and Grian forcing himself onto the scene. Tasks, carefully crafted to be both frustrating and fun for His players (and sometimes just violent enough to satisfy their Hunger). Ups and downs, gives and takes. Tasks submitted by Watchers themselves---but the Boogeyman curse was all his own. See? He could make it entertaining, too. He understood what they wanted, and would give it to them, but only if they played by his rules.

Demise was a threat.

Interfere with their beloved "life" games, and They would take all of HermitCraft and force them into the games. Force them into worse. Take them, and control them, forever (just like Evo).

Real Life was a test.

It felt like loosing, to Grian. And, well, he did loose, actually. Out first, in his own game? Ridiculous. But... He felt like he lost everything he had worked so hard to create. Or, well, no, he felt like all that time spent running, and hiding, and creating a new him, trying to get himself away from the Watchers---it was for nothing. He... was submitting to them.

Of course, he knew it wasn't exactly that. He was still a Player, still him, and this was the only way to keep his friends safe. To convince the Watchers that he could run the games himself. To convince them that he was still a Watcher (it burned. It burned. He didn't want to be).

Running Real Life was difficult---he hadn't used his Watcher powers like this in... well, ever, really, to create a whole reality? He'd never gone that far. It was short lived, and, strangely, very nauseous.

But, somehow, it got the point through. He passed the test.

Wild Life was all his own. Weeks---months---spent carefully crafting a fun game for his friends, as though to apologize for everything he'd inadvertently subjected them to. He got to choose the players, and, to his surprise, they all wanted to come---even...

Even Mumbo.

Grian almost didn't want to invite him. But wouldn't that be suspicious, inviting them all but him? For them all to join but him? Mumbo would understand---but, in the end, he joined.

And he teamed with Grian. And it felt... so right. So perfect. Somehow, the death game didn't even feel like a death game. Him, Skizz, and Mumbo---the Sub-one Club! Or, well, the Floaters---or, actually, the Spanners! Yes, the Spanners! Grian almost felt at home. Being in control, the others knowing what He was and accepting him, creating a fun game for his friends. This was---well, it was just perfect! And he loved it! He loved it! It's what he had always wanted, back when 3rd Life was supposed to be his, and now, he had it! Everything he wanted!

And then

Mumbo

died

first.

[cheetabites]

☆彡 cinnamon pt 2 ˳༄꠶

character: kang dae-ho (player 388)

˳༄꠶ summary: five sfw and nsfw general headcannons for dae-ho

sfw headcannons

★ he’s a man that knows how to dress himself well. in korea, the importance on appearance is a reinforced by society so lots of people dress good, but i’m telling you that he knows how to keep up appearances - even if his clothes remain casual, all his outfits look good on him; he mainly wears black high waisted dress pants w/ wide pant legs paired with a loose fitting shirt & a cardigan or an oversized hoodie w/ cargo pants

★ he has a sad playlist that he jams out to regularly; even if nothing bad happened. he could be doing the most mundane task - like walking down the streets of korea - and one of the most heartbreaking songs would be blasting out of his earphones

★ he hates needles, and i mean he hates them. sure, he got a tattoo, but if he has to do anything like getting his blood drawn he’ll bolt it out of there - unless you’re there and you hold his hand

★ he’s one of those people that keeps all their app tabs open on their phone. and probably barely has any storage space because of the amount of pictures he has of you and other things; he doesn’t want to delete them because he thinks he’ll forget the moment

★ he’s big on physical touch. there isn’t a moment where he can go on without holding your hand or wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind. it’s also normal for him to place tiny kisses on your face whenever the opportunity arises

nsfw headcannons

★ loves to tell you how beautiful you are when you please each other. your hair could be messy and sticking to your face, or you’re sweating profusely, but it doesn’t matter. he never wants to think your any less than beautiful

★ he really likes when you ride him; especially when he’s just laying flat - no hands on you or anything - on the bed and you lay your palms flat on his shoulders for support

★ the idea of you just using him for pleasure really gets him off - like if you were stressed and needed to blow of steam so you decide to pin him down and be a little bit mean and condescending while you please him; he usually cries when you guys fuck like that, but it’s always out of pleasure

★ he wouldn’t want to have sex anywhere besides the bedroom. i feel like both of you tried it once in a more public place - like maybe one of your guys’ cars or in a hotel room - but it turned him off so bad that you both agreed to not try that again

★ he’s all for waking you up by eating you out (consensual somnophilia); hearing you gasp as you awake and having you card your fingers through his hair to tug on it, it’s one of the best sights he’d ever witnessed. he usually does this on the days he has to work cause he loves riling you up, but he always makes sure to clean you up before he leaves

the end! i hope you enjoyed <3!

[intimidating-fettuccine]

hi! can i req poly yan!masky x reader x yan!hoodie?:)

I hope you enjoy this, as this is a pretty rough combination :p

Oh, you don't know what you're getting yourself into, or maybe you do and you're into that sort of thing. Normal Masky is physically incapable of love, he will never, ever fall in love with you, no matter what you do, and guess what? Yandere Masky is the exact same way. While yandere Tim will love you and treasure you, you're getting Masky instead, who just simply grows possessive over your body, and wants nobody else to have access to you, only him. Well, at least, except for Hoodie, who he begrudgingly shares you with. Hoodie in general is closer to Brian in personality and treatment than Masky is to Tim, but Hoodie still isn't nearly as sweet to you as Brian might be. He's not sure if the intense, deep, primal possession he feels toward you is love, but he knows the feeling he feels is strong enough that he's not going to give you up.

There's going to be a LOT of fighting. This will not be a sweet, romantic experience between them. Masky and Hoodie can barely share when they're normal, they definitely can't share when they're yandere for you. Masky is the one initiating most of the fights, as it aggravates him to see Hoodie around you at all, especially if he's being physically affectionate with you. Hoodie never gives in though, and there are a lot of thrown punches and pointed guns, but the one who ends up winning tends to vary. Whenever Masky wins he gets especially cocky and tends to hide you from Hoodie for several days so he can do whatever he wants to you (a situation that is not generally enjoyable for you, as you come out exhausted, starving (as Masky almost never remembers to feed you) in need of what feels like multiple showers, and covered in bruises and bitemarks). Hoodie winning tends to be much better, as he'll at least apologize for making you watch that, but it just goes to make his possession over you even stronger, and you'll never be able to get away from him. Neither of them really knows how a normal romantic relationship is supposed to work, so it's mostly just them dragging you back and forth and forcing themselves on you if you don't comply.

So long as Masky is distracted by something else, most of your time is spent with Hoodie, which you're thankful for as Hoodie is always the better of the two at least, as he makes sure you stay well-fed, and he'll clean up the injuries both of them tend to leave on you. You can talk with him, and engage in any hobbies you might have had with him. He tends to spend a lot of time watching you, though. Staring from beside you, observing what you do, experimenting on you to see how you react to different situations. He gets antsy if he doesn't touch you for too long, and often randomly forces himself on you, pressing his lips to yours with no warning, touching you without permission. He's at least somewhat gentle about it, but whenever Masky catches him doing so it just reinforces in Masky's mind that he doesn't have to ask you permission to do anything, which makes your situation with Masky much worse. Both of them get so physically clingy, wanting to be the one to leave the most markings on you, wanting to be the one to touch you the most, wanting to be the one to use you however they please the most. Just make sure they never end up asking you if you prefer one over the other, as neither of them is a good answer to give because it'll just piss the other off and cause more fighting, and turn some anger on you. Should you ever actually have to choose between them in general, cozying up to Hoodie will save you in the long run, as if you ever feel the need to escape (you will), Hoodie can at least assist you, and in the end, find a way to keep you all to himself. He can hide you, live with you somewhere far, far away, away from Masky, where, while still living under controlled possession, you'd be much safer. It won't last forever, though. Masky won't stop searching for you, both you and Hoodie know that, and once he finds you, you're never getting away from him again.

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

December 31 - Countdown | word count: 999 | @wolfstarmicrofic

“FIVE!”

The first time Remus thought about kissing Sirius, he had been fifteen years old.

Sirius had just returned from hanging out with the girls. At first glance, it appeared that nothing had changed. Then Sirius walked right up to Remus’ bedside and asked “what do you think?”. So, he found himself searching every part of Sirius’ face. His slightly crooked nose, his stunning grey eyes, the faint freckles dotted across his nose, his stunning grey eyes, his wavy hair which is currently pulled up in a messy bun, his stunning grey eyes… it had taken an embarrassingly long time to notice the subtle black mark lining the edge of Sirius’ eyelids. Just the small touch was enough to make his eyes pop, drawing Remus in as though they were hypnotic.

Remus normally hated the sight of makeup, why did girls have to cake their faces with the stuff trying to make themselves pretty? But on Sirius, Remus thinks he might have to rethink his beliefs, because Sirius was born for makeup.

It had been a fleeting thought, only lasting for a second before he quashed it under his foot. A flash of an image. Him leaning forward to press his lips against Sirius’, but it is quickly replaced by Sirius’ look of disgust. Because Sirius would be disgusted if he knew the thoughts racing through Remus’ head right now. Sirius is straight, and even if he weren’t, they are friends.

“FOUR!”

The first time Sirius thought about kissing Remus, he had been seventeen years old. The thought was immediately followed by heavy regret pooling in his gut and the sharp tang of disgust on his tongue. Would Remus think differently of him? Would he hate that Sirius thought of him in that way? Sirius already knows it is wrong, a few wires tangled in his head, so he buries it deep inside and doesn’t dare bring it up again. Well, that was the plan, but it seems that this box is less seal-tight as the rest.

He'll be going about his day when the image pops into his head, and the thought flits across his mind. Remus is sitting on the windowsill, bathing in the warmth of the sunlight like a cat. The window is popped just a bit to let in the fresh air, but not enough to let in the windy draft. He is chewing slightly on his bottom lip. Sirius would swoop in, pressing a kiss to Remus’ lips, soothing the sting.

But this must be another cruel trick of his mind, so he keeps the thoughts to himself.

“THREE!”

A year after the first thought surfaced, it still has not left, cropping up at the most inconvenient times, slowly but steadily wearing away his resolve. It’s when Remus has to avert his eyes when Sirius walks by without a top, that Sirius crawls into his bed late at night, and confesses.

But not the confession Remus had been hoping for. Instead of confessing his undying love for Remus, he says he thinks he might be gay. And for Remus, that is enough to crush his heart. Because then Sirius goes on about how he keeps looking at boys and wondering if kissing them would feel better than kissing girls, because everybody talks about how it feels like fireworks, but he has never felt that.

Part of Remus tells him to offer himself up. But he ultimately ignores the unhelpful suggestion. As much as Remus wants to kiss him, he won’t be used as an experiment, used while Sirius has need of him, then tossed to the side if—and probably when—things don’t go the way Sirius thought they would. Besides, even if the kiss did help Sirius understand, it wouldn’t make them boyfriends.

“TWO!”

Sirius had never been given gifts he really wanted. His parents always gave him family heirlooms or expensive clothes they expected him to wear or expensive books they expected him to memorize. He had never truly gotten something he really wanted. Sure, his friends got him good gifts—candy, Sleekeazy's, quidditch supplies, art supplies, even some makeup once he showed an interest in it. But the gift Remus got for him, almost has him going against all the promises he made for himself to kiss him.

The newest Queen cassette and his very own cassette player. His heart felt too big for his chest, and the only way he could think of resolving it was a kiss. Since he couldn’t do that, he settled for a hug that strained his muscles.

“ONE!”

They are locked in the closet for “seven minutes in heaven”. Neither of them speak, neither of them move. And yet, the tension is so thick Remus could cut it with a knife. Both of them staring at the other, daring each other to make the final leap. To use this as an excuse to get what they both clearly want so badly.

In the end, Remus is too afraid to risk their friendship and Sirius is too afraid of liking it too much.

They leave the closet still yearning.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Maybe it’s the exhilaration in the air, maybe it’s the kissing couples around them, maybe it’s the buzz of alcohol in his system, maybe he’s just fed up with dancing around each other. Whatever the reason, Sirius seizes Remus and pulls him into a kiss before he even consciously notices what he is doing. By then, there is nothing that can be done. Their friendship teetering on the balance, ready to plunge into a proper relationship, or fall and shatter.

Remus yanks him away, eyes looking deep into Sirius own. Despite hating direct eye contact, he doesn’t squirm away. He knows this is an important moment for Remus, for them. So, he stays still, pushing as much of his want and desire into his eyes as possible.

It must be enough, because Remus yanks him back into a searing kiss.

Yes, Happy New Year indeed.

[sleighhethereal]

— poor first impressions

WARNING: slight nsfw, bunnies

imagine being one of the only female best friend's of Mei, and somehow you haven't met the Monkey King at all the first season or two

you didn't really give a shit to begin with

sure, it was amazing having MK as a best friend AND successor to some immortal jackass

all you've heard from MK is that Wukong was—

"HE'S THE BEESST!" MK squealed as he swung the red staff around in the air, swiftly doing stances with each turn. "Just as the legend says, [Name]! He's strong, handsome, and- and- he taught me that you should ALWAYS believe in yourself—"

"MK, I could have told you that myself."

though, there was a small part of you that wasn't atleast curious of what or who Sun Wukong is

it seemed MK talked about you alot, because sometimes Wukong asked for you to join

"Hey [Name]." MK would approach you as you held twenty dishes in hand, "Monkey King asked me... to ask you, if you wanted to- sort of- join in on the training—?"

that'd be when MK would receive a wooden spoon to the back of his head, sending him flying to the ground face-first

"HELL NO! HE GOT ONE OF YOU, I'M NOT LETTING HIM TAKE THE OTHER!" Pigsy would screech, somehow spawning another wooden spoon in his palms.

after that, MK stayed for shifts a bit longer than expected‐ you'd ask why and he'd tell you Monkey King seemed like he was sulking, so he gave him a break

weird stuff

it was during personal training that you'd finally meet the Great Sage‐ not under great circumstances

and no, it wasn't for the end of the world

MK was prepping his own moves, with you on the side for... support? Mei came around in a bit, sitting beside you.

"I wonder what else I can do.." MK mumbled to himself, pushing his hand out as it began to glow a bright yellow. "YAAAAAAAHH!"

everything went black

and you slowly opened your eyes to see Mei beating the absolute shit out of MK

"I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY—"

"YOU TURNED MY BEST FRIEND INTO A BUNNY- CHANGE HER BACK, NOW!"

you blinked, looked down, and screamed.

you quickly rushed- well, hopped‐ towards a full-length mirror and gazed upon yourself.

you turned into a life-sized bunny

half the day was spent with MK trying to turn you back but nothing worked, just a sweaty man on the floor and a whole lot of sobbing apologies

it would've been fine but you were starting to do strange things

like, you hated Pigsy for example

"Kid, what the hell is up with you?" Pigsy asked, his eyes filled with nothing but concern.

"Don't TOUCH me!"

you found some menstrual pads, chocolate, and some take-out noodles on your bed the next day

you weren't on your period.

you nudged people, head-butted, and didn't sleep at all at night

sometimes you'd watch MK sleep and he'd wake up to your purring, and then others would wake up to his terrified screams

finally, MK took you to Flower Fruit Mountain- he couldn't turn you back himself, but someone can

that'd be the Monkey King himself

you were especially weird this week- you had made a dirty den in the shop, growling at anyone who came near

so, yeah, that was kind of the last straw for Pigsy

when Monkey King came out to greet MK and Mei, he never did

he squealed at the sight of you, pushing the kids aside (quite roughly, sending them flying off the stairs) and rushed you with open arms

he kissed your face, nibbling your cheeks— a part of him actually thought you were an early birthday gift

"O-M-G! You're so cute! What brought you here, hmmmm? Oooooooo, I just wanna eat you up and put you in my pocket-" He babbled nonsense as he carried you, pinching your cheeks.

that was until you practically pounced on his face, pulling his nose close to yours as you stared into his eyes.

"You'd give me great kittens."

"...Oh?"

It took MK a while to try and separate you both and it took a while longer convincing Wukong to turn you back

"Look, man, I need you to bring her back to her- you know, normal self."

"But why????"

"You KNOW why!"

"If dealing with her is so difficult, I could... take her off your hands—"

"MONKEY KING." "DON'T YOU DARE!"

"WHAAAAATTTT?"

eventually, after like two days, MK convinced Wukong. it would've taken longer if it weren't for you actually telling him that you wanted to be yourself again

after Wukong's dramatic tears and hard hugs, he turned you back

lucky for you, you don't remember anything that happened after being converted

well, lucky for like a few seconds after you got back to the shop

"So you kind of asked Monkey King to, uh.." MK got close to your ears, whispering the rest."

your face went red, "I did what?"

"I think he was into it too—"

"WHAT?"

[biblical-chronicles]

Cheer up

__________________________________________

where Liam makes sure the reader doesn't spend NYE alone and sick

__________________________________________

The knock at the door wasn’t just unexpected—it was downright odd. You frowned, tugging your blanket tighter around yourself as you shuffled to answer it. You weren’t expecting anyone, and definitely not on New Year’s Eve. Everyone else had plans that didn’t involve sitting at home nursing a rubbish cold.

When you cracked the door open, there he was, Liam standing on your doorstep with a plastic shopping bag dangling from one hand. His grin was as cheeky as ever, and he looked quite lively, even in the bitter cold.

“Alright, love?” he said casually, like this was a completely normal thing to do.

“Liam?” you blinked, utterly baffled. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you I wasn’t coming tonight—I’m sick, remember? And shouldn’t you be at the party? Pretty sure that’s more your thing than… this.”

He didn’t wait for an invite, just strolled in like he owned the place, plonking the bag onto your counter. “Yeah, yeah, heard all that,” he said, rooting around in the bag. “But I figured you might cheer up when you see this.”

With a flourish, he pulled out a bottle of wine, holding it up like a trophy.

You stared at him, unimpressed. “You brought wine? Liam, I’ve been sneezing me head off all day, and you want me to drink wine?”

“Exactly,” he said, completely serious. “Kills the germs, don’t it? Wine’s medicinal.”

You snorted, despite yourself. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“Course it is,” he shot back, leaning on the counter with that insufferable smirk that always made it hard to stay annoyed at him. “Besides, I didn’t come here to drag you out. Just wanted to check on you, make sure you weren’t sat here wallowin’ or summat.”

You folded your arms, though the warmth in your chest was harder to ignore now. “So, what? You decided to ditch a perfectly good party to babysit me?”

“Babysit?” he echoed, mock offended. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just makin’ sure you’re alright, that’s all. You know I can’t leave you hangin’ love.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile creeping onto your face. “You’re ridiculous. Fine, stay in here. But if you catch this cough and start whingin’ tomorrow, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Deal,” he said, already kicking off his boots and making himself at home on your couch.

A little while later, you were both settled in. The wine was open, glasses poured, and somehow, the mood had shifted into something easy and light. Liam had a way of doing that—making you forget yourself, forget the rubbish day you’d had, just by being his usual self. He was full of stories tonight, half of them ridiculous, the other half even more ridiculous. You found yourself laughing, your cheeks hurting from it, and for the first time all day, you felt properly warm.

“Thanks for this, by the way,” you said, swirling the wine in your glass. “For coming over, I mean. Sorry if I’ve ruined your night, though.”

“Ruin it?” he said, eyebrows raised. “Are you daft? This is bang on, this. Couldn’t think of a better way to spend it, to be honest.”

You looked at him, taken aback by how genuine he sounded. For all his attitude, there were moments like this when Liam’s softer side slipped through, catching you completely off guard.

“Oi,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence and jolting you out of your thoughts. “You know there’s only twenty minutes left till midnight, right? If we’re watchin’ them fireworks, you’d better get your arse in gear. Can’t have you standin’ out there in a blanket, can we?”

You blinked, momentarily thrown by the change in topic. “Wait, you actually want to go outside? In the cold?”

He grinned, already grabbing his coat. “Damn right I do. Fireworks aren’t gonna watch themselves, are they? Now, get a move on, woman, or we’ll miss the lot.”

His grin was infectious, and despite everything you couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright, I’m going,” you said, tossing the blanket aside and grabbing your jacket.

Once you were bundled up, Liam gave you a quick once-over, frowning. “Oi, where’s your scarf?”

You waved him off. “It’s fine, Liam. We’re just stepping out for a bit. I’ll survive.”

“Nah, nah,” he said, already unwrapping his own from around his neck. “No way you’re goin’ out there without one. You’re already ill—you’ll end up worse, and I’ll be stuck listenin’ to you complain for a week.”

“I wouldn’t—”

“Shut it,” he interrupted, stepping closer and looping the scarf around your neck. His hands lingered a little too long while adjusting the fabric, his knuckles brushing against your skin.

“There,” he murmured, stepping back slightly but still close enough to look into your eyes. His expression softened, his gaze searching yours as if he’d only just realized how close you were.

You couldn’t help it—your cheeks flushed, the moment growing heavier. The air between you shifted, and before you knew it, his eyes flicked down to your lips. His touch still lingered on the scarf, and your breath hitched, wondering if he was about to close the distance.

Then, suddenly, a loud bang cut through the silence, a firework going off prematurely somewhere in the neighborhood. You both jolted apart, startled, the tension dissolving as you laughed nervously.

“Bloody knobheads, settin’ ‘em off early,” Liam muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” you agreed, not trusting yourself to say more. Without addressing what had almost happened, you opened the door and led the way outside.

You both found a bench in the garden with a clear view of the skyline. Liam pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapping one out and holding it up in offering.

“Fancy one?” he asked.

You hesitated a second before taking it. “Why not? New Year’s Eve, after all.”

He lit his with a practiced flick of his lighter, inhaling deeply before leaning toward you. You brought your cigarette to meet his, the glowing tips touching as he helped you light it. For a brief moment, your eyes locked again, his face illuminated by the ember’s soft glow.

This time, it was harder to look away, but you forced yourself to lean back and take a drag, exhaling slowly into the cold night air. The silence between you felt companionable, as you both smoked and stared out at the lively city.

After a moment, you turned toward him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Sorry,” you murmured against his shoulder, “for being such a broken record about this. But thank you, Liam. Really. You have no idea how much this means to me. You mean so much to me.”

When you pulled back, his face was flushed, his expression uncharacteristically shy. “It’s no problem,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “Like I said, I'd always choose you over some daft party I can throw any week.”

The words made your heart stutter, but before you could reply, he shifted slightly, meeting your eyes.

“You know I will, right?” he said, his voice steadier now. “Always choose you, no matter what. I’ve always cared about you, more than I probably should’ve as a friend.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want this to sound too clichè or whatever, but… you’re the one person I’d drop everything for. Always have been.”

You stared at him, a wide, disbelieving smile spreading across your face as his words sank in.

“God, you idiot,” you said softly, shaking your head in wonder.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the sound of fireworks starting to explode in the distance made you both glance toward the skyline.

The colors lit up the sky, and without thinking, you turned back to him, grabbing his jacket and pulling him close. Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his in a kiss so full of passion and relief it made your head spin.

The fireworks grew louder, the explosions echoing across the city, but all you could focus on was him—his warmth, his hands on your waist, the way he kissed you back like it was the only thing he wanted in the world.

__________________________________________

I hope it's good enough for all of you loves

cutesy request curtesy of @avxoxo1 I hope you enjoy it x

and, sorry if it’s a bit shite this time, but swear down that New Year’s bender proper did me in. Promise I’ll be back to rights and writin’ better stuff tomorrow, me loves xx

sorry again x

[graciegoeskrazy]

you call yourself a friend?

(OFC!Maise Macdonald + Ross + Matty)

Warnings: matty is the bitchiest bitchy bitch, amazing dad ross, crying toddler, screaming, they make up for it tho :)

A/n: FIRST FIC OF 2025! Hope everyone had a happy and safe new years!

The hum of the tour bus engine provided a steady backdrop as Ross knelt in front of Maise, her tiny arms stretched above her head as he slipped a soft, purple sweater over her little frame. Her usually messy hair was fastened into two high pigtails that Ross has perfected at this point in solo parenting. She giggled as Ross tickled her sides while adjusting her sweater, her laughter soft and sweet, cutting through the low chatter around them. The rest of the band lingered around the cramped space: George scrolling on his phone, Adam nursing a cup of coffee while reading, and Matty pacing near the door, clearly agitated.

"Alright, sweetheart, let's get your shoes on," Maise wiggled her feet, off in her own little world. “Where are those little things? We’ve got to find your pink…”

“They’re under the couch,” George mumbled without looking up from his phone. Ross leaned forward to peer under the seat, finding the tiny sneakers nestled in the corner.

Matty’s voice cut through the bus, sharp and laced with anger. “I’m telling you, it’s absolute bullshit! They think they can just shove us into whatever promo crap they want without even asking?”

“Matty,” Adam warned, his voice low but firm. “It’s too early for this.”

“Too early? It’s too late for them to keep pulling this crap. We should’ve put our foot down ages ago!”

"It’s a five-minute promo, Matty. Not the end of the world," George said, voice calm but firm.

Ross sighed, slipping Maise’s shoes onto her little feet. “Mate, we’ll deal with it when we stop. No use winding yourself up about it now.”

“Oh, thanks, Ross,” Matty shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “That’s really helpful. Just sit there playing Dad of the Year while the rest of us have to clean up this mess.”

Ross stiffened but stayed calm, keeping his focus on Maise as she giggled, oblivious to the tension. “Matty, I know there’s a lot happening right now but there really is nothing that can be done. We all have bigger things to deal with right now, but we will all deal with this together when the time is right, like we have always done.

Matty snapped, his voice rising. He turned on his heel, gesturing wildly. “Oh, please, Ross. We’ve never done it together. It’s always you who gets to check out whenever it suits you. Must be nice to have a cute little excuse sitting on your lap.”

Maise froze, her smile fading as she glanced up at Matty, confused by his tone. Her big brown eyes filled with uncertainty. “Daddy?” she murmured, her tiny hand gripping the fabric of her pants.

“That’s enough, Matty,” Ross said, his voice steady but with an edge of warning.

Matty barely acknowledged him, his rant gaining momentum. "You- you all act like this is normal. Like we should just bow down and say thank you for wasting our time! I’m so tired of this shit-"

"Language," Ross interrupted, his voice more direct this time as he glanced at Maise.

Matty’s eyes snapped to Ross. "Language? Really? She’s not even listening."

Maise started to flinch at his words as she kept her focus down.

Ross kept his focus on Maise, but his shoulders tensed. "She’s always listening. Just dial it down a notch."

"Oh, give me a break!" Matty snapped, throwing his arms up. "Can we not pretend this is the first time she’s heard someone say ‘fuck’?"

Maise, sitting quietly on the bench beside her dad, froze at the sharp tone. Her wide eyes flicked between the two men. Ross noticed her lower lip tremble ever so slightly, and his jaw tightened.

"Can we not do this around my baby?" Ross said, his voice calm but with an edge as he looked at him.

Matty shot him a glare. "Oh my God- I don’t care about your baby!"

The words hung in the air, heavier than the pounding of the rain against the windows. For a moment, no one moved. Maise’s tiny hands curled into the fabric of her sweater as she let out a soft, muffled sob. She tried so hard to hold it in, but the hurt was too much to swallow.

It took a beat too long for Matty to realize what he’d said. His expression flickered - defensiveness melting into regret - but Ross didn’t wait for an apology.

He kissed the top of Maise’s head, his voice soft and steady as he murmured to her. "Hey, hey, it’s okay, love. Let’s get you ready to go, yeah? It’s time to eat breakfast.

She nodded weakly but didn’t say anything, her lips pressed into a tight line as she fought to keep her emotions in check. A single tear escaped, sliding down her cheek, and Ross quickly brushed it away, trying to hide the fact that his baby girl’s broken heart was making his break. “Let’s find your bunny, huh?” Ross said, his voice bright and warm, desperate to distract her. “We’ll get Bunny all ready for the day too. Where did we put him last night?”

“By my bed,” Maise whispered, her voice barely audible. He nodded and picked her up. She immediately curled into him. Her tiny hands clung to Ross’s shirt as he moved toward the back of the bus, gently swaying her in his arms. She peaked her eyes out from hiding in Ross’s shoulder but quickly hid again when her glossy eyes met Matty’s.

Behind them, the tension in the bus hung heavy. Matty stood frozen, guilt etched across his face. George and Adam exchanged pointed looks as they stood next to him, but neither said a word as Ross disappeared into the back.

“I didn’t mean…” Matty started, his voice trailing off.

“Yeah, you never do,” George muttered, his tone cutting.

…

Ross opened the small curtain that led to her bunk, grabbing the stuffed bunny she couldn’t sleep without just yet. “Look who’s here to save the day,” he said softly, holding the stuffed animal up. “Bunny says you’re the bravest girl he’s ever met.”

She still kept her eyes down, her tears finally spilling over as she buried her face in Ross’s shoulder. “I don’t like when Matty’s mad,” she mumbled.

“I know, love. I know,” Ross murmured, stroking her back. “But he wasn’t mad at you. He’s just having a bad day. Sometimes grown-ups forget to use their big voices when they’re upset. But it’s not your fault, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, her grip tightening.

Ross held her close, his heart aching at the weight of her little worries. “How about we go make some breakfast now? Bunny can come too. How does that sound?”

Her face brightened just a little, the promise of normalcy chasing away some of her sadness. “Okay,” she said again.

“That’s my girl,” Ross said, kissing her forehead once more. He carried her back to the front of the bus, where the others sat in uneasy silence.

Matty looked up, his expression full of remorse. “Maise, I’m…”

“Not now,” Ross cut in, his voice firm but not unkind. He set Maise down on the bench and handed her Bunny. “Let’s get her settled first.”

The room quieted again as Ross focused all his attention on his daughter, his soothing presence filling the tense air. The band could wait. For now, Maise came first.

…

The rest of the day rolls by slowly. Matty and Ross keep their distance. They’re cordial - barely - but Ross is short, and Matty doesn’t push. The unspoken tension weaves itself into the fabric of the tour bus, heavy and palpable.

Maise hadn’t been the same either. She was usually running up and down the halls of whatever new arena they were in, making Ross and the boys chase after her. But today she was quiet, keeping to herself. When Ross sat her down in the green room and told her to stay for a minute, she obeyed. Not even trying to run away or giggling at the thought of the look on her Dad’s face when she disobeys him.

Everyone noticed, especially Matty, and it only made his guilt worsen. Charli tried talking to her. Maise usually liked playing and getting one-on-one time with other girls, but Maise didn’t have any interest.

Not because she was scared, but because she just didn’t want to. She looked… tired. Like the life that once took over the little girl was sucked out of her. She didn’t talk either. She gave small nods to everyone she talked to and said ‘Hi’ like normal, but she was quiet for most of the day, content with playing on her iPad.

When Ross puts Maisie to bed, the silence is starting to feel unbearable. Ross carried her sleeping form back to the bus. She was already upset after being woken up in the dressing room. Ross tried to comfort her by singing some soft tune that carried through the closed door of the bunk room. When Ross emerges moments later, Matty doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t quite know how.

After a few hours, the rest of the band is on the bus and in their respective bunks, except for Matty and Ross. Ross hasn’t taken his eyes off of his laptop, meanwhile Matty keeps looking up at him for what feels like every 5 seconds.

“I think we should talk.” He eventually says.

Ross doesn’t lift his gaze. “We? I think you need to talk to Maise.” Ross says coldly.

Matty sighs before sitting up. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said earlier. I was upset, and I took it out on you - and Maisie. That wasn’t fair. None of this is her fault.”  

Ross leans back, his jaw flexing before he says, “No, it’s not. But she’s my kid, Matty. My kid. If you’ve got a problem, you bring it to me. You don’t take it out on her. Not ever.”  

“I know,” Matty says quickly. His voice softens as he adds, “I know. I just- I got in my own head. She wasn’t in the way. I was. And I’m sorry.”  

Ross is about to respond when a small, choked cry cuts through the conversation. Both men freeze. Then, almost in sync, they turn toward the bunk room door.  

Ross is the first to move, pulling back the curtain to find Maisie curled up in the bed, her face red and damp with tears. “What’s wrong, love?” he murmurs, scooping her up into his arms

Her tiny fists clutching at his shirt as she hiccups through her tears. He rubs soothing circles on her back, carrying her to the couch where Matty still sits, looking suddenly out of place.

“Maisie, what’s wrong?” Ross asks again, his voice low and steady.  

She pulls back just enough to look at him, her wide eyes brimming with tears. “Daddy…” she starts, her voice trembling. “Do I make your life messy?”  

The room stills. Matty’s sharp intake of breath breaks the silence, but neither Maisie nor Ross seems to notice.  

Ross blinks, his brow furrowing as he tilts his head. “What? Maisie, what are you talking about?”  

“I make your life messy,” she repeats, with the clarity only a toddler can muster. “And Uncle Matty’s. And Uncle George’s. And Uncle Adam’s. I love you all too much to make you upset. So…” She pauses, fidgeting with the hem of her pajamas, her little lip wobbling. “I’d rather just… get out of the way.”  

Ross’s face crumples. “Maisie, stop that right now,” he says, his voice breaking just a little. “You’re not messy, and you’re definitely not in my way.”  

Matty leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “Maisie, look at me.”  

Her big eyes flicker toward him, hesitant and glassy.  

“You listen to me, okay?” Matty says, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “You could never make our lives messy. You’re the best thing about it. All of us - we love having you around. I was upset earlier, but not because of you. You’re not the problem. I was. And I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you were.”  

Maisie blinks at him, her tears slowing, though her little face is still scrunched in thought. “Really?” she asks, her voice small.  

“Really,” Ross says firmly. He presses a kiss to her forehead, pulling her close. “You’re ridiculous for thinking anything else. Got it?”  

Maisie lets out a shaky sigh, burying her face in Ross’s chest. “Got it.” They could hear the grasp for clarity in her voice. She wanted to believe them, but she didn’t just yet.

Ross grabs her chin, tilting it to look at him. “Hey, If you ever feel like that again, you tell us. Okay? No more keeping stuff like that to yourself.”  

Maisie nods against Ross, her voice muffled as she says, “Okay.”  

And though Maisie can’t see it, the boys exchange a look over her head - a silent agreement, a shared guilt - and they know, without saying it, that they’ll do better. For her. 

[darkcircles4lyfe]

There's something that's been bothering me for a while now, in terms of bnha's ending and it's final canon pair. I had a hard time understanding the way people seen to interpret their "superiority" over other pairs because they are "pure, healthy and wholesome", adding in how strange the author's intentions came across, and just feeling even more confused.

Until i came across a NileRed video of all things. (It feels so bizarre bringing such a random video to this discussion but bear with me lmao) Where he attempted to make "the world's purest cookie" by creating it in a lab, basically. Using the purest form of every ingredient he was able to find because "well it's pure, so it must be better, right?". And it was very amusing watching a guy who never baked before struggle to make even something so basic, with a decent, easy recipe. Everyone was excited until it came time to taste it, and it ended up being the blandest thing he's ever tasted.

And then another youtuber, Ann Reardon, who's a professional baker, not only explained the wrong in the use of the ingredients showed in the video, but also tested the recipe he used normally, and the result was just a nice choc chip cookie. There was nothing wrong with it.

Nile's entire problem was that he didn't know a thing about the nuances of baking as a science of it's own, and only went by what he, a chemist with no experience in baking, thought would work the best.

To me, that is literally that pair's entire existence in physical form. People in favor of it use the first basis of how "pure and predictable" is good regardless, because they deemed it inherently healthy but didn't bother with actually analysing it further. The story had the recipe for a regular, typical shonen romance, but both use of it and ingredients were all totally wrong.

And the author, not having any experience with writing romance, did what he thought was best, (maybe because he liked them together and was attached), but fumbled tremendously when he realized he wouldn't be able to make them happen organically, because it was too late, it didn't fit anywhere else in the story, and there were too many things in the way as well. So he did what he could to side step them into a believable conclusion, but in doing so, he sacrificed his story's flavor and complexity for something that fell flat and became unpopular among true fans of the series.

"I think that my interpretation of purity was naive... Purity didn't have anything to do with flavor or smell or texture. Purity is its own thing, and if you want to achieve true purity, you must sacrifice everything. Everything that makes it worth it."

(fantastic quote from the NileRed NileBlue video)

Anon, you've really charmed me with this metaphor, and I think it works. The details get a little fuzzy once you know that the "pure" ingredients he got are actually made so you know exactly what's in them, not necessarily so that they are impurity-free. But he still applied an extreme level of hubris in using chemistry lab materials to make a "perfect" or "better" cookie, without understanding anything about the very different science that is baking. Like, he didn't know what baker's chocolate even is. Besides, what he sought was impossible, because chocolate practically cannot be made 100% without "bug parts" etc. And in the end, he made a really fucking terrible cookie anyway. I'm fascinated by the fact that it didn't even have a smell...

I'm definitely not one to judge ships against each other to say that one is inherently better, but when the other side keeps pushing this idea of purity, it does make me pause. Do they like it because it's bland? Because it ticks off all their morality requirements? Because it affirms their idea of normal? Honestly I'd have a lot more respect for them if they openly rejected what the source material has given them in favor of what their own imaginations can come up with. Some do, to be sure, but most still try to defend canon. Come on. Give them something to struggle with each other over and grow from. Anything but this constant unspoken blushing awkwardness.

I do want to put a small wrinkle in what you've said, though. I don't want to assume Horikoshi was doing what he thought was best with 431. Think about it this way. If he, much like many shonen mangaka like Oda for example, set out to write a story where romance is not the focus because he wasn't interested in writing those kinds of plots, but instead more interested in developing plots that are based in politics, friendship, family, sacrifice, and examining the dichotomy of "good" and "evil," why not maintain that priority through the end? Why would he spend dozens of pages systematically dismantling everything he cared about in the first place for the sake of something he clearly viewed as secondary? Like yeah, maybe he did think they were cute and was still attached to the idea of them ending up together, but I can't believe he thought they were worth this much compared to everything else he actually put effort into.

However, this "pure cookie" metaphor you've made fits quite well with how publishing can operate, where the rules of marketing are often erroneously applied to art of storytelling, like lab chemistry to baking. The things that give the story its uniqueness and flavor are refined and boiled down for the sake of making it predictable, benign, safe, easy to digest. So it can sell. So it can avoid controversy with conservative society. I'm honestly really sick of debating all the points of this ending as if they are definitely 100% only Horikoshi's vision or personal mistakes. We really don't know that and maybe we never will. I for one at least hope that we keep in mind that censorship is still a very real and current issue, and I'm not going to speak ill of the dead, as it were.

btw, I was largely inspired by this thread about Steven Universe on twitter, and tbh I include this reasoning not just for 431, but other things along the way, especially the last 10-15 chapters or so.