#but my gut reaction to that is. don’t keep the place so dirty that there��d otherwise be flies?

[tyonfs]

game on.

❝ you play your games, and i’ll play mine. ❞

PAIRING ▸ liu yangyang x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, friends to lovers, some fluff and crack

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, hendery being oblivious as fuck, dirty talk, smut, oral sex, some aftercare

SUMMARY ▸ the lines have always been blurred between you and yangyang. you, fed up with your best friend being an absolute boy and gaming away his problems, decided to take matters into your own hands.

WORD COUNT ▸ 3238 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello! i impulsively wrote this so consider this my contribution for yangyang day ♡ i hope you guys enjoy !!

YOU WERE PISSED.

It wasn’t like you were expecting much. You just wanted to spend the evening with your best friend on the one day you both had time to hang out, but he clearly had other plans. YangYang had been playing video games all day while you were just sitting on his bed and watching him like an idiot. You rolled your eyes, going through your phone for about the umpteenth time as you listened to him yell commands at Hendery.

“Go mid, go mid!” he shouted into his mic, furiously clicking his mouse and tapping keys in tune with his command.

You finally gave up and walked over to him, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. “YangYang,” you called with a frown. “We were supposed to watch a movie tonight.”

YangYang, startled, took off his headphones for a moment to peer up at you. “What did you say? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

You despised the gentleness of his tone. YangYang was definitely sweet by nature and had good intentions (save for his wild streak), but sometimes he was simply insensitive and ignorant of his actions. You wondered if he knew how annoying it was for you to have to sit on his bed for over an hour just to be ignored. It didn’t exactly help that you had the biggest crush on him and overanalyzed every single word and action.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Fine, YangYang. Keep playing your silly game,” you snapped and went back to his bed with a scowl. “I’ll just sit here and do nothing.”

YangYang seemed to realize that he had been neglecting you, so he mumbled a curt apology to Hendery into his mic and paused his game. It sounded as if Hendery was whining, but YangYang turned off his mic and put his headset down. He got up and walked over to you, sitting at the edge of his bed where you were curled up.

He raised a brow at you. “Happy?”

That tone of his just pissed you off even more.

“You can go back to playing your game if that’s what you want,” you mumbled, clearly jealous that he was prioritizing his game over you.

“I want to spend time with you.” YangYang slid his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry for gaming while you were over.”

You let yourself be vulnerable and crumble for a moment, but then you ducked your head so he couldn’t see, mumbling, “I’ve been waiting here like an idiot.”

“Hug?” he offered, hoping it would make up for his wrongdoings.

You pursed your lips. You refused to give in so easily, especially when it came to Liu YangYang. He had a knack for getting what he wanted with a simple flash of that dazzling grin. In short, you were tired of having to wait for him.

You weren’t sure if that meant wait for him to hang out with you or notice your feelings for him, but both answers seemed to align well.

The lines had always been blurred between you two. It had gotten to the point where even his friends didn’t believe him when he would say he wasn’t dating you. Maybe what gave it away was the way you both would hug for a little too long, or the lingering stares, or maybe even the way he’d hold your hand when he didn’t have to.

However, whenever the topic of dating arose, you’d either shy away from the conversation or change the topic quickly.

“No.” You stood up, dragging him up by the arm and over to his gaming setup. You sat him down in his chair and slung a leg around his thigh, sliding onto his lap. “You keep playing.”

YangYang seemed to stiffen up as you straddled him, tucking your head into his shoulder. He kept you close to him, though, and placed a hesitant hand on the small of your back. You could hear him swallow thickly as he put his headphones back on and rejoined his game. He didn’t question your command, but you could tell he was much more jittery.

You turned your head a little. You could see the blush on his face and the tension in his jaw.

You scooted up further into his lap, noting how he froze as you did. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and although the two of you were practically cuddling, it felt odd with Hendery’s voice coming from YangYang’s headphones.

“Dude, where were you?” Hendery asked. “The enemy team nearly got your turret.”

“Sorry about that,” YangYang apologized, looking like a bundle of nerves, which was something you hadn’t seen before. You shifted slightly and YangYang quickly turned off his mic before cursing under his breath. “D-don’t do that.”

You stilled. YangYang just stammered, and you swore you could hear his breath hitch. A devious part of you wanted to take this further and see where it would go.

“Don’t do what?” you asked innocently, adjusting your position subtly.

There it was.

YangYang’s hard-on pressing into your thigh. The bulge from his grey sweatpants was so obvious, and it sent butterflies to your stomach. You couldn’t stop yourself from exhaling sharply into YangYang’s neck, making his erection grow and your head spin.

“That,” he grunted out, hand coming back from the keyboard to hold your lower back again.

“You seem to be enjoying it,” you observed, biting your lip as you felt him twitch under you.

Your best friend clearly didn’t want to push you, but he was enticed, and it made your heart race. “You mean… you want to?” he asked slowly.

“Yeah,” you said, hiding your face so you didn’t have to meet his eyes. This was all you’ve ever wanted, of course, but you still wanted pay-back for being neglected. “Keep playing your game.”

YangYang continued playing, although you noticed the slight shift. There was a tremor in his hands and he was very unsure about his hand placement every time he came back to hold your back. Although, you underestimated his confidence because when you were least expecting it, he bucked his hips up against yours.

You bit back a mewl, one hand gripping his shoulder tightly as his movements became repetitive. You weren’t looking at him but you knew YangYang was smug, trying to get a response out of you. You arched your hips off of his lap and he grabbed your waist, pushing you back down, right onto his rock-hard boner.

YangYang bit your earlobe as his hot breath fanned the side of your neck. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, but it was impossible when he was rolling hips up against yours. You could almost picture the smirk on his face.

You whimpered out softly, dangerously close to his mic. Initially, you didn’t mind, only thinking about his reaction to your sounds, until you realized the worst had happened. Fear shot down your spine as you straightened up quickly.

His mic was on.

“What was that?” you heard Hendery ask.

“Louis,” YangYang replied smoothly.

“Louis? He’s at my place.”

“Um…” YangYang trailed off. “Anyways, let’s push bot since we’re at their base.” He turned off his mic again and pulled you back to him, nibbling at the base of your neck. “Panties off,” he murmured, sliding his sweats and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free.

YangYang had, once again, gotten his way.

Your breath hitched at the sight of his throbbing cock. Desire coiled in your gut, making your entire body flush. You got off of his lap to do as he said, looping your fingers in your belt loops to tease your shorts down.

YangYang did a double take, finding it hard to focus on the game and on you at the same time. His eyes briefly met yours before they trained on your lower body, lust clouding them. Before you could take off your panties, however, YangYang was slain in the game, and had to turn on his mic as Hendery started complaining.

“That jungler is a pain in the ass!” Hendery whined. “But, dude, you’ve only got five kills so far. You good?”

“Yeah, um, I’m not doing so hot this game,” YangYang replied, shooting you a glance and leaning back in his chair as he waited out the cooldown. “The heat’s getting to me, I guess.”

“YangYang, it’s winter,” Hendery replied. YangYang closed his eyes for a moment, opening his mouth to retort, but Hendery continued, “Shit, okay, come mid with me.”

YangYang hummed in agreement and turned his mic off, a darker look in his eyes when he turned to you. “Suck me off, baby,” he said in a low voice, adding, “please.”

“But we were supposed to—”

You stopped yourself as a flush of heat crept up your neck. YangYang looked amused as you bit your lip and got to your knees, crawling toward him so that you were between his legs. When you looked up at him, he looked as if he was at his limit.

YangYang ran his thumb along your lower lip, hand cradling your chin. “I’ll make you feel good after this game, baby,” he reassured.

You nodded, pouting at how flustered he was making you feel. Getting distracted again, YangYang moved his attention to his game again, tapping keys repeatedly. You narrowed your eyes, displeased at the lack of attention.

You play your games, and I’ll play mine, you thought bitterly.

This was an unpredictable jump in your relationship with him, and you were just realizing it as you took ahold of his cock, loving how it twitched in your grip. Your lips grazed the soft skin, causing him to hiss through his teeth, squirming a bit in his seat.

YangYang’s breathing was growing ragged and uneven.

You closed your eyes and took the head of his cock into your mouth, hesitating before sucking lightly on it. You looked up at him through your lashes and smiled at how a vein appeared on his neck. YangYang unmuted his mic to reply to Hendery’s commands, removing his hand from the keyboard to grab your hair in a fistful and push you down on his cock.

A loud whimper escaped you as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. Finding a balance between teasing and careful, you bobbed your head, relishing how the thick veins along his length pulsated against your tongue. YangYang had to mute again, letting out a low and guttural groan when you started building up a faster rhythm.

He died again in the game.

Loser, you thought childishly.

But now, YangYang could focus on you while he was on cooldown. He tugged at your hair, whining when you pulled off of him. You met his eyes and lapped at his slit that was leaking with precum. YangYang’s eyes darkened and he thrusted back into your mouth, making you whimper as you suddenly took him in your throat. You moaned against his cock and let him fuck your throat, digging your nails into his thighs.

You were startled when he seized up, grunting as his hot seed shot down your throat. You swallowed it and pulled off of him, wiping your mouth with a proud glint dancing in your eyes.

YangYang let out a pleased little sigh. “Sit on my lap, baby.”

His cooldown was over.

You got up from your spot on the floor and straddled his lap again, but YangYang was wrecked. He saw your eager expression and chuckled, bemused. He unmuted his mic to speak to Hendery but let his fingers dip into your panties, rubbing his slender fingers against your clit in slow circles.

“P-please,” you breathed out, hands gripping his shoulders for leverage.

“Patience, baby,” YangYang cooed in your ear.

“What did you just call me?” Hendery’s dumbfounded voice resounded from the speakers. “Did you say baby?”

“You’re hearing things,” YangYang brushed off while you wanted to die of embarrassment.

“Yo, we did it!” Hendery cheered a minute later while YangYang was still working on your clit. The words victory flashed across the screen in bright blue. “Dude, you wanna play TFT to celebrate?”

“Yeah, no,” YangYang said bluntly, ending the call and tossing his headphones onto his desk so he could turn his attention to you. He ghosted his hands along your sides. “I have my prize right here.”

“YangYang,” you whined out since he left your clit alone before you could finish.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you,” he mumbled, kissing down the column of your neck. “Let me make it up to you.”

YangYang rubbed your hips in slow circles before removing your shirt carefully, examining your body with hungry eyes. He leaned forward to press kisses from your stomach to your chest, making your heart thunder in your chest. When he reached your chest, his hands slid to the back to unhook your bra. With an easy snap, he unhooked the undergarment and slid the straps down, biting his lip at the sight of you in full glory.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, peppering kisses around your nipple and then sucking lightly on the bud.

“YangYang,” you cried out softly.

Your best friend broke away for a moment to open his drawer behind you pulling out a little silver packet. You watched him tear it open and slide the latex around his throbbing cock. How he managed to get it up again was beyond your understanding. After all, horny boys will be horny boys.

He leaned back in his seat, smirking up at you. “Go ahead, baby, fuck yourself on my cock,” he instructed, grabbing his shirt by the nape so he could slide it off, revealing his v-cut abs.

You swallowed hard.

First of all, YangYang was absolutely hung.

Second of all, you had no experience in this field of sexual activity. This was feeling more like paranormal activity because you had no idea how his massive cock was going to fit inside you without rearranging your guts.

“But you’re so… big,” you whispered, looking at his length as he gave it a few pumps.

A soft look crossed YangYang’s face. He picked you up easily, hands gripping your thighs as he laid you on his bed. There was so much care and softness to his touch as he got over you and lined himself with your entrance. The way he looked down at you was full of pure adoration and it made your breath get caught in your throat.

“Ready?” he asked, moving your hair out of your face.

You bit your lip and nodded, bracing yourself by holding onto his shoulders.

You thought he would start, but to your surprise, he pressed his lips to yours, one hand gently cupping your face. You kissed him back fervently, wrapping your arms around his neck. Lost in the taste of his lips, YangYang slowly pushed himself into you, a strangled groan tearing past his lips at how tight you were. You broke from the kiss to tuck your face into his shoulder, crying out as you were stuck in the crossroads of pain and pleasure.

YangYang’s grip on your waist tightened. “Fuck, babygirl.”

“You’re so big,” you replied with a pleased sigh, your hand sliding up the nape of his neck to curl into his hair. Your hips shifted a little as your walls adjusted around him.

“Damn right I am,” YangYang replied smugly, starting to thrust in you at a leisurely pace. He slid a hand into your hair and groaned as your walls squeezed around him. “God, your cunt’s so fucking tight.”

“Oh, shut up,” you huffed, flustered by his comment. A moan escaped your lips when he hit a certain spot in you that set you on fire. “R-right there!”

“Nice and vocal,” he cooed, slowing down his pace in favor of deeper thrusts, “just how I like it.” A groan tore past his lips as he fucked you into the mattress. “I want to feel this,” he growled. “I want to feel you.”

Waves of pleasure hit you with each thrust, overwhelming you to the point of tears streaming down your face. He was so big and you could feel him in your lower abdomen, but the pain eased away and you could only feel yourself on the edge of euphoria.

“Shit, YangYang, it feels so good,” you mewled out weakly. “H-harder.”

YangYang grabbed ahold of your legs and moved them over his shoulders while he pinned your hips down. He let out a shaky breath and slammed into you harder, making sure to linger whenever he went as deep as he could. You were a moaning mess by now, holding onto him for dear life as he pounded inside of you.

You were already so close, pre-stimulated from him fingering your clit earlier, and his powerful thrusts were making you lose your grip.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

You nodded weakly, meeting his intense gaze. “I think I’m close,” you told him in a breath.

“Cum for me, angel,” YangYang urged, moving his hand down to rub your clit again as he quickened his pace. “I want to hear you say my name. Who’s making you cum?”

“Y-you, YangYang,” you sobbed, digging your nails into his back. “F-fuck—”

You couldn’t even finish what you were saying, nor did you remember what you were going to say because you fell off the edge first. You broke apart in front of him, crying out in pure bliss as you released against his cock. The pleasure in your gut that was building up had now flooded your body, but YangYang still fucked you through your orgasm until he, too, fell apart.

Sweat beaded your flushed skin, but you only noticed it when YangYang’s forehead was against yours, his breathing slow and heavy. He pulled out of you, using up the little energy he had to toss the used condom in the trash before he trudged back to his bed. He got in next to you and pulled you to his body, enveloping you into his warmth.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough,” he mumbled against your skin.

You were still catching your breath, still winded from your orgasm. Now, YangYang was so tender, so gentle, that you were at a loss for words. It was almost laughable compared to the filthy words that were coming from his mouth early.

You cuddled close to him, wrapping a leg around his hip. “Don’t be,” you said with a smile. “It felt really good.”

YangYang grinned and kissed your forehead, your cheeks, then pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You scrunched up your nose at the contact but he just kissed all over your face.

“I’m glad you felt the same way,” he murmured. “I was starting to get scared that we would just have perpetual tension between us forever.”

“Of course not,” you said with a laugh. “Xiaojun would’ve beat you up if you kept denying anything between us.”

“Well, now I can stop denying it, at least,” he mused, holding up your hand to his lips so he could kiss your knuckles.

“I still can’t believe we did that.”

“I mean,” YangYang started, plastering an easy smile on his face, “I’m always good to go again.”

Needless to say, you ended up taking him up on that offer for a few more rounds.

[isolemnlyswear]

a fic where reader is a slytherin who has never associated with the marauders before but during a quidditch game against ravenclaw regulus falls off his broom so reader saves him and sirius is really grateful and keeps bothering reader to thank her every time he sees her

my pleasure

young!Sirius Black x slytherin!fem!reader

a/n : ok i changed this a little bit?? thought it would make more sense as i don’t think sirius really enjoys regulus and co

warnings : injury, kissing, pain?? all fluff, though

taglist : @oldschoolkiddo @amourtentiaa @anchoeritic @faeinorbit @tomriddleswifey @inks-and-jinx @blacksbooksx @punkrific @truly-insatiable @cedricsbrowncurls

---

You watched the boys from afar, curious brow raised in interest. The brunette, the dirty blond, and... Sirius. The raven-haired boy piqued your interest the most. You weren't quite sure why; you'd never spoken to him, except once, when you lent him a spare quill. He’d been grateful, but after that, you were just another Slytherin to him.

But now, as you watched him walk out onto the field with Ravenclaw, there was a pit in your gut that warned you. Against what, you weren't quite sure, but it was bothering you nonetheless. Your palms were sweating and your heart was in your throat, however, you took it with a grain of salt. You were quite paranoid sometimes, and always worried about something going wrong.

Yet, this time, as you watched the boy in red mount his broom and shoot into the air, you couldn't focus. Well, you could - it was a hypnotic state of mind, one where you were hyper-aware yet perpetually numb at the same time.

About an hour in, you were jolted out of your trance as you heard a loud scream.

You saw a head of ebony hair falling from the sky, legs unable to latch onto his broom as a Ravenclaw seeker slammed into his side.

Your face went pale as your feet carried you down the stands, just as you heard a small crack when Sirius hit the ground.

You rushed out onto the field, a surge of protectiveness washing over you as you fell to his side. Madame Pomfrey was nowhere to be found, and as a few students gathered around, you reached for your wand. You were a talented witch - the best in your year - and knew upon feeling his injured knee what spell could fix it.

Sirius groaned in pain, squirming under your gentle touch.

“It’s okay, ” you whispered, “It'll be over in a moment.”

He was still writing in pain, and you took a deep breath.

“Brackium Emendo, ” you said steadily, waving your want with precision. A small pop echoed through the pitch and Sirius’s face contorted.

After a second, the boy looked up at you, mouth agape.

“D-did you just...?” he breathed as McGonagall walked out onto the pitch, stern look crossing her features.

“Miss L/N, ” she said rigidly, frowning slightly until she saw Sirius stand up on his previously broken leg. She raised an eyebrow, turning to the black-haired boy. “Did you heal his knee?”

You nodded, gulping. “Yes, ma'am, ” you said nervously, pursing your lips.

“She- she just- my knee-” Sirius mumbled, eyes flicking between you and McGonagall.

“Miss L/N, that could have gone terribly wrong.” she said, frowning.

“It didn't, did it?” Sirius quipped, earning a glare from the professor.

“It did not.” she conceded, pausing a moment. “No points from Slytherin, then. Even though that was incredibly dangerous, you executed it... Perfectly, ” she said with a sigh, walking off the pitch.

Sirius grinned at you, and you smiled back. “What's your name again?” he asked, holding out a hand.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N.” you replied, taking his hand and shaking it.

“Well, thank you, Y/N.” he said, and you blushed. Your name rolled off his tongue like honey, like he was meant to say it.

“My pleasure, Sirius,” you replied, flashing him a small smile over your shoulder as you turned to leave.

---

The next day, Sirius ran up behind you in the corridor after Charms.

“Y/N!” he shouted, and you turned to meet his smiling face.

“Hi, ” you said simply, biting your lip.

“I-I just wanted t’say thank you... again...” he breathed, looking you dead in the eye. Your breath hitched in your throat at the intense eye contact, and you cleared your throat, shaking your head.

“It was my pleasure, really, Sirius, it was the least I could do, anyone would-”

“No, ” he said, ��Not just anyone would. You would, Y/N. You're amazing, really, ” he said hesitantly, gauging your reaction. You blushed furiously, looking down at your feet.

“T-thank you?” you said tentatively, laughing softly. Sirius bit his lip, ears drinking up the sound of your laugh and he was quickly growing intoxicated on it. He wanted to make you laugh again, and again, and again.

“As you say... my pleasure, ” he quipped, smirking. You laughed again, shaking your head with a smile so big your lip was caught in your teeth.

---

The day after that, Sirius caught up to you in the exact same place again. You shook your head with a laugh as he called your name, turning around.

“Yes, Sirius?”

“Hi.” he said, beaming at you. “I- I just-”

“...Wanted to say thank you?” you all but cut him off, smirking.

“Yes, actually. Well-” he trailed off, looking unsure. You smiled, cocking your head, and he laughed softly. “That's not entirely why I came here.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to see you, Y/N, ” he let out, finding himself with a nervous grin. He didn't get nervous like this, except around you, apparently.

“You did?” you said, and he nodded. “Well, Sirius, I wanted to see you too,” you said with a smile, laughing lightly.

“Yeah?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Now why is that?”

“Oh, come on, you know why-” you rolled your eyes, but quickly shut them as Sirius kissed you, arms hesitantly wrapping around your waist until you hungrily reciprocated, and he pulled you closer. You broke away, looking him in the eye.

“Thank you, ” you said with a giggle, and he laughed.

“My pleasure.”

[alighieri-sparda]

A stinky devil and bath thoughts | Vergil x M!Reader

Summary: Vergil is all yours again. You decide to give him a relaxing bath to ease his mind — and get rid of that stinky smell of demonic creatures after a few months in Hell.

Masterlist | Rules | A simple gift for @mooshs-crack-headcanons

Happy birthday! And this time, with the real gift. xD I hope you enjoy this fluffy piece I wrote for you. I wish I could give you something better, but that’s what I got :’D You deserve only the best, Paul. You know it.~

It’s important to mention that I got the most of inspiration for this work from the ‘Washing a Devil’ series by Chrome, specially from this particular chapter. So, please, if you guys haven’t read it yet, please do! It’s really lovely.

Lots of a passionate Vergil under the cut. 

- - - - - -

Vergil is finally back. Back to the place he could always call home, the safest spot in the world for him: your gentle and comfortable arms. Vergil is finally back. Back to the place he could always call home, the safest spot in the world for him: your gentle and comfortable arms. 

When he crossed the front door of your house, the first thing you did before saying anything was holding him closely, kissing those soft lips of his you missed after several months without his presence. Vergil is your safe spot as much as you are his, and now you both feel complete.

However, something started to bother both of you when you separated the kiss: the smell of demon guts and sweat was not the most welcoming in the world. You didn’t mention it at first, but Vergil quickly realized how unfortunate this condition would be for you both and suggested to take a bath before doing anything else.

“Let me wash you then.” You smiled, your words sounded so pure and heartwarming to the half demon’s ears that he couldn’t help smiling as well.

[...]

You slide your hands down Vergil’s strong arms, taking the collar of his coat as a starting point to make his black piece of cloth fall on the floor. Then, you go to his buttoned shirt, unfastening it at a gentle pace. Your eyes gradually catch the sight of his torso as the shirt is unbuttoned, and you can’t stop admiring how gorgeous this man looks even so stinky and dirty.  

The man under your touch observes your actions in a calm state of mind which he hadn’t seen himself feeling in years. You had been waiting for him for months straight, and yet you don’t hesitate in slowing things down just to admire his presence, enjoying every inch of his body and every spectrum of his personality. A tranquil gaze rests on his eyes because he knows he’s safe with you. There’s no need to rush things.

Once the last button is finally unclasped, you let it fall over his arms, letting it join his coat on the floor. Vergil looks almost ashamed of looking like that; his torso is all grimy, even supposedly protected by his layers of clothes. You, on the other hand, don’t mind at all. The smile that draws onto your lips evidences your actual enjoyment of that situation. 

“How can you smile at this filthy situation of mine?” Vergil chuckles when he notices the happy tilt of your lips.

“Because I’m about to have a lot of fun washing you.” You explain, visibly excited for what is going to happen next. 

Vergil sighs as he watches your hands go to his belt and undo it in a blink of an eye, throwing it out of his waistband just as rapidly as you ease the grip of his pants around his hips. You welcome his relieved reactions with a kiss on his cheek.

“You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking at your playful expression.

“How couldn’t I enjoy you, Vergil?” You say as your fingers hook the waistband of his pants and his underwear at the same time, pulling them down in one single movement. He suddenly gets exposed, and it scares him a little bit. Even if it’s under your sight.

Instead of grinning back at Vergil’s perceptible shudder, however, you only smile softly, comforting him.

“Now let’s get you cleaned.”

Then you kiss his cheek again, encouraging him to keep going with that. It isn’t like he wasn’t enjoying it though.

In a few steps, Vergil sits in the bathtub previously prepared by you with a medium warm water level. He lets a heavy breath out of his lungs when he starts feeling cleansed after months stinking like demonic corpses. The smell is really not good, but you ignore it as much as you can. It’s not his fault anyway.

You turn the faucet that indicates hot water while bringing the bottle of shampoo and soap closer to your reach with your other hand. The sound of water falling and mixing with the one already in the bathtub fills the bathroom. When the water level rises enough, you turn off the faucet.

In the meantime, Vergil has closed his eyes, taking the opportunity to relax his muscles and enjoy being under your care again. The sweet smell of the soap and shampoo already enters his nostrils; he exhales at the good sensation being intensified by his temporary privation of sight. Then, he groans satisfied when the hot water suddenly falls on his scalp. Vergil wasn’t really paying much attention to the sounds around him.

Once you sit beside the bathtub, you pay attention to his head and face firstly. You let the water do the primary and simpler work as you gently rub your fingertips all over his face, cleansing the dirt stuck to his skin and some thin lines of dried blood all over his cheeks, jawline, and nose bridge. He leans his head back at your personal touch, sighing quietly.

“You look so beautiful.” You whisper unconsciously. 

Vergil doesn’t seem to notice your compliment. His eyes are still closed and his chest slowly moves up and down. You can tell he’s enjoying it.

After you’re done cleaning his face, your hands now reach his neck and shoulders. This time, instead of just rubbing only your fingertips on his skin, you use your entire palm to massage and cleanse the superficial dirt at the same time. Vergil’s muscles get a little tensioned when you first touch them, but he quickly relaxes them again against your gentle touch. Another satisfied groan says it all.

“I thought you wouldn’t accept me back, [Name].” He suddenly says, blinking slowly his eyes and looking at you after some time. “When Dante and I came back, I’ve already started to think that I would have to live with my brother. And I almost locked myself back in Hell again.”

You chuckle while you don’t stop the movements on his shoulders.

“I’d never let you do it to yourself, Vergil,” You giggle. Now, you take the shampoo bottle in your hands and squeeze it, letting a generous amount of shampoo fall on Vergil’s hair. Putting it back in place, your fingers finally run through his strands of hair, massaging and scouring his scalp. “Besides, being stuck in Hell wasn’t your fault. It’d be unfair not accepting you back.”

“Well… It actually was.” He answers in a more serious tone. “The Qliphoth only raised under my command, due to my uncontrollable pursuit of power. I don’t even deserve to be here, to begin with.”

Your fingers stop the massage for a while. One of your hands now touches the back of his neck as the other one gently fondles his cheek.

“But now it is in the past. You’ve certainly made mistakes through your path, everyone does at some point, but you’re here with me now. And that’s the only thing that matters.” You whisper. Unlike the past two times, now you prefer to kiss his soft lips instead of his cheek. A comforting peck to remind him how important he is to you. To remember he’s safe now.

You slide your hands over his damp skin, putting them back on his scalp once more. Vergil just sighs, clearly affected by your lovely words.

The grunts of satisfaction that Vergil lets out while you clean his hair make you want to stay that way forever, just listening to the sounds of his satisfaction as you enjoy the caress that you know he likes best, but you have more work to do.

That being said, you finally wash the shampoo away from his scalp, still massaging it to be sure you cleaned it completely. While your hands do the cleansing part, you observe Vergil’s expression again: he’s just like he was before talking to you, eyes closed and relaxed face. Another unconscious smile draws onto your lips. 

Your intention with all this is not only to clean him but also make him relax as much as you can. Because of that, you soap your hands and massage the skin of his face, neck, and shoulders with the soap that remains on your palms instead of scrubbing it directly on his body. Vergil visibly appreciates your action, taking a short breath as he feels the good smell of the soap purifying his body.

“[Name],” He mumbles your name suddenly. Probably asking for your attention.

“Hm?”

“Do you recall a tattooed man knocking on your door sometime before the incident?”

You can’t help but smile when you listen to his words. His point is already clear for you.

“Yeah, I do.” You answer as you keep your hand movements. Your fingers are now finishing up his shoulders area, just taking the opportunity to relieve the tension that remains in his muscles. “I almost couldn’t believe it when he said he was you.”

“But I knew you would do so.” A gentle smile crossed his face. “Besides thinking about my family, when I saw myself that incomplete, another important thought crossed my mind: checking if you were doing well. If my lack of presence didn’t put you into any dangerous situations.”

He searched one of your soaped hands, kissing the back of it. 

“I wanted to kiss you so much on that day. But you would fairly refuse my request.”

“Thanks for being aware of it,” You chuckle, embracing his shoulders even outside of the bathtub. “But I need to confess that seeing you as a smaller and more fragile man than me was a lovely sight.”

“Oh, you think so?” This time, the smile on his lips gets a more teasing tone. “How cute. But, honestly, I prefer to see you like the pretty fragile man here.”

“I know that.” You giggle in response. Then, you leave the embrace to catch the soap once more while you move your gaze all around the bathtub, looking for a good spot to position yourself for the next step of the bath. “Now I need to wash the rest of your body, but I can’t find any good position to do it.”

“Allow me to facilitate the things for you then.”

When Vergil says this, you first think that he would reposition his body in the bathtub to make your work easier somehow — and he did move, but not with the intentions you thought he would have. There is no time for you to react: in the blink of an eye, Vergil pulls you into the bathtub. You would be impressed, but Vergil is a half-demon after all. He always has at least a little bit of strength guarded in case he needs it.

“Hey--!” You even try to scold him, but it is in vain. When you come to your senses, you’re sitting on his lap, and your clothes are now sticking to your skin due to their soaking. When did he get that cheeky?

“So, is it better for you now?” You haven’t seen that playful grin in months. Although the situation is not the most satisfying in the world now — soaked clothes are not comfortable at all —, you can’t complain about it. It only shows you how much he missed your presence. 

“You…!” The laugh that comes up to your throat can’t be helped at all. “Jeez, you could have asked me for a shared bath before!” You didn’t mean to have one, but if that’s what he wants, now you have no choice but to give it to him. 

“Stop complaining and take off these soaked clothes.”

He didn’t even need to ask you this, to begin with. You don’t get out of the bathtub to take them off, just getting rid of them quickly and then throwing them to the same point where Vergil’s clothes were left before. 

Once you are completely bare, Vergil gives you no time to react again: he kisses your lips passionately as he lets his hands explore your body freely; his smooth yet audacious hands make your body shiver in surprise, feeling his fingertips reach your chest, back and then your waist, the place he rests his arms around when you separate the kiss.

“I missed you.” He whispers against your lips, holding you even closer as you embrace his shoulders once more, but this time it feels a lot better. Vergil has never been this talkative before, even with you, so this sentence of his is already proved to you due to his previous attitudes. 

You whisper as sincerely as he did: “I missed you too.” 

Vergil slowly puts himself back in his previous position, forcing you to break that embrace. His gaze follows your body up and down as he comforts your legs across his lap.

“Now you can finish your work.” He smiles at you softly.

The next couple of minutes are all about you doing to his chest, back and arms the same as you did previously, gently removing the superficial dirt with your fingers, letting the water help you with that. Your touches keep the intimate intention by massaging his muscles and cleansing them with the soap in your palms as a happy smile crosses your face every time you hear a satisfied or relaxed hum coming from him.

Although the relaxation you provided him during this whole process, you notice that Vergil is still awake when you announce that you’re done with his bath. He blinks slowly after minutes straight with his eyes closed, looking directly at you again. 

Before he can say anything, it’s now your turn to surprise him with a kiss. Vergil looks so adorable under your care, with his guard completely off and heart opened, just for you.

“You smell so good now.” You giggle against his lips after this last kiss.

“Thanks to you, of course.” He winks.

“Listen, I could stay like that with you all night long, but I prefer our bedroom to do so.” You slowly get out of the bathtub, taking the towel in your hands on your way. “You can get up now. I’ll just get some dry and clean clothes for us both.”

Once you’re standing beside the bathtub and move your body to go to your bedroom, a strong hand grabs your wrist, stopping you where you are.

“I surely can leave the bathtub. But I need to do something before wearing any clothes.”

Your night is far away from finishing there because Vergil did miss you. In all of your ways.

[crow-in-a-teapot]

tower of nero spoilers

i have just finished the tower of nero. and before i go searching for other people’s thoughts and art and more of the characters i love so much, i want to write down some of my own thoughts because i know as soon as i delve into that ‘ton spoilers’ hashtag there are going to be complaints and criticisms and so much that i don’t want to hear, or essays that’ll make me upset, or things that’ll change my perception on the book (because on this website people really love to hate the trials of apollo).

i want to start with: i loved it. it didn’t feel earth-shattering or huge and momentous like some of my favourite riordanverse books (house of hades, the blood of olympus, the last olympian and maybe some of the magnus chase books take those pedestals for me) but it was satisfying. and i think it was satisfying because it in no way felt like an ending. whether because eventually rick will write that will-and-nico-go-through-tartarus-and-save-bob novella, or because we (or at least i) will continue writing and imagining and creating for this world i don’t know. he didn’t wrap up the story in a perfect little bow like ‘nineteen years later’, he simply put it on pause. gave us a glimpse of where every character was at at the end.

the only thing that makes me so angry and upset is that i did manage to get some spoilers for moments that i know would have been so good to experience for the first time if i hadn’t been spoiled for them. the moment where rachel mentions penguins in a mansion near her house, nico getting mental health advice from mr d, the fact that will and nico were going to be in the book for so much of the story, but the big thing was literally spoiled for me two days ago, it was the reason i sat down to read it as fast as possible because i was terrified of getting more spoiled and not being able to experience the moments for myself, was that piper had a girlfriend. i know that reading that for the first time would have been so cool and surprising, and the fact that when it came up for a moment in the last couple pages all i felt was disappointment because it was spoiled for me and because it was now tinged with whatever that person was saying about her having a girlfriend.

but i still had some warm fuzzy moments, the two parts where apollo thinks he’s going to die but nico comes up behind him - so good. impeccable. 

Leader Guy spat. ‘Now, I kill you.’

He raised his sword... and froze. His face turned pale. His skin began to shrivel. His beard fell out whisker by whisker like dead pine needles. Finally, his skin crumbled away, along with his clothes and flesh, until Leader Guy was nothing but a bleached-white skeleton, holding a sword in his bony hands. 

Standing behind him, his hand on the skeleton’s shoulder, was Nico di Angelo.

and

Nero raised his hand, ready to give the kill command, when behind me a mighty BOOM! shook the chamber. Half our enemies were thrown off their feet. Cracks sprouted in the windowsand the marble columns. Ceiling tiles broke, raining dust like split bags of flour. 

I turned to see the impenetrable blast doors lying twisted and broken, a strangely emaciated red bull standing in the breach. Behind it stood Nico di Angelo.

gods. poetic brilliance. i can’t believe i’m still a nico di angelo stannie in the year 2021. in five years i have not changed (ever since the tv show announcement last summer i have managed to morph into myself from 2017)

from here i’m not sure where to go next i kind of want to go through everything, except it’ll be more difficult than my tyrant’s tomb reaction because i wasn’t reading on a kindle and thus can’t just do funny little reactions to screenshots of quotes, so i’ll just skim through the book page by page and see what i can comment on (i’m not planning on doing analysis today, no thank you, just enjoying the end of my childhood and trying to squeeze as much out of it as possible)

i have an emotional attachment to mr. snake from the very first chapter, and am very upset that he’ll never get off on his baltimore stop and get to see his wife, lu had no reason to shoot and kill him like that.

that brings me to lu, i liked her, it was interesting to see how rick kind of brought in not only the overarching theme of abuse, but also people who let the abuse happen, i have more i could say on this i’m too lazy to right now, and i promised no analysis - or the fact that Lu had conspired to make the show non-lethal to spare Meg’s feelings rather than - oh, I don’t know - refusing to do Nero’s dirty work in the first place and getting Meg out of that house of horrors. 

And are you any better? taunted a small voice in my brain. How many times have you stood up to Zeus?

Okay, small voice. Fair point. Tyrants are not easy to opppose or walk away from, especially when you depend on them for everything.

the parallels to meg and lester heading to percy’s apartment, and then to camp half blood to the hidden oracle was so cool to read, every callback to the hidden oracle just there to remind us readers exactly how far apollo has come and how he’s changed; the entire chapter with sally, paul and estelle just felt sickly sweet, it just didn’t seem real how wholesome and good that family is, like i get why apollo broke down and just sobbed in that shower.

also rick really saying acab again in toa, i thought he was done after that elf cop chapter in magnus chase (the magnus chase series is a masterpiece) but apparently not, with A ‘good cop’ is still a cop... still a part of the mind game.

the grey sisters, i forgot about them completely but this threw me back into was it the sea of monsters when annabeth summoned them? i’m not sure, it could have been the lightning thief either, they really remind me of the disney hercules movie. the whole ganymede paragraph was gold, i love gods being canonically confirmed lgbt in the riordanverse. i also love the whole eye-tossing part - 

‘He will crush our eye,’ Anger cried, ‘if we don’t recite our verses!’

‘I will not!’

‘We will all die!’ Wasp said. ‘He is crazy!’

‘I AM NOT!’

‘Fine, you win!’ Tempest howled.

also, the explanation for why dionysus chooses to look the way he does was perfect, because it was something i often wondered about and wasn’t expecting to get an explanation for, and i imagine the whole mythological dionysus to look like.. well like a more feminine apollo i guess, beautiful in a gender non-comforming way.

Other Olympians could never comprehend why Dionysus chose this form when he could look like anything he wanted. In ancient times, he’d been famous for his youthful beauty that defied gender.

... 

In retaliation, Dionysus had decided to look and act as ungodly as possible. He was like a child refusing to tuck in his shirt, comb his hair or brush his teeth, just to show his parents how little he cared.

every scene with nico at camp just BREAKS ME, i would throw in screenshots of every damn quote but unfortunately, as said above, cannot and would rather not type every one; we’ll start with, obviously apollo confirming to him that jason is dead. 

He didn’t look angry exactly. He looked as if he’d been hit in the gut not just once but so many times over the course of so many years that he was beginning to lose perspective on what it meant to be in pain. He swayed on his feet. He blinked. Then he flinched, jerking his hands away from Meg’s as if he’d just remembered his own touch was poison.

ugh then will talking about how nico’s doing, confirming that he’s suffering with ptsd, mr d giving him advice, helping him sort though what voices in his head are real and which ones aren’t, then the paragraph that just recounts every horrific thing poor nico has been through, how will has to reassure him that he’s okay and ‘with friends’ when he wakes up after shadow travel

will’s kindness to apollo, buying him clothes, and apollo finding seymour the leopard’s head in his bed, put there by mr d aaaa AAAA A A A A A THE ORDINARY, EVERYDAY CAMP HALF BLOOD THINGS..

i could go on for years and years about how much i appreciate rachel having a big role in this book, and the visit to her apartment, everything, her art, the fact that she got what she wanted, she’s going to PARIS to study ART, she isn’t forced to be someone she’s not by her dad, and gets to be a big part of a demigod mission and not stand on the sidelines for once.

i love that her landscapes are still visions, that she still paints the quests demigods go on - the burning maze, jason’s funeral pyre, caligula’s ships; and how nico ~appreciates art~

‘And, hey, di Angelo -’ she pushed him playfully away from the canvas he’d been ogling - ‘don’t brush against the art! I don’t care about the paintings, but if you get any colour on you, you’ll ruin that whole black-and-white aesthetic you’ve got going.’

i. love. rachel.

WILL GLOWS!! THE HEADCANONS FROM LIKE FIVE YEARS AGO THAT YOU’D SEE FLOATING AROUND ABOUT HIM MANIPULATING LIGHT!! CONFIRMED!! CANON!! AMAZING

I AM  OBSESSED WITH THE TROGS, I LOVE THEM, THEY ARE GREAT, not gonna lie, i was expecting something more dramatic and spooky with how worried will was and how dionysus was going.. visiting the cavern-runners isn’t ♫ good for your mental health  ♫ but the little hat frog gremlins were a good addition. i like them very much and their funky little soup shenanigans. quoting the ghost king himself: trogs good. nice hats. (IM SORRY I KEEP MENTIONING HIM BUT I JUST) also how apollo starts wishing for breadsticks a s ajoke and theY STRAIGHT UP HAVE BREADSTICKS? HUH? WHERE DID THEY GET THE BREADSTICKS FROM??

yeah, i’m also still very much upset by every mention of jason grace, it’s funny how ever since his death in the burning maze i have grown to love him more and more and that’s not fun for me, for that boy to become one of my main comfort character’s and have his death and sacrifice and nobility mentioned every few chapters. i’m pretty sure i cried when he appeared to talk in apollo’s dreams, and this time the tears weren’t from the effort of keeping my eyes open and working for hours straight reading this book (i remember staying up until 2am to finish the sequel to beautiful, broken things, it was very much worth it)

‘All right, Jason. We miss you, though.’

ALSO. THE FACT THAT THIS KID. THIS CHILD. HAD TO THINK ‘BUT IF A HERO ISN’T READY TO LOSE EVERYTHING FOR A GREATER CAUSE, IS THAT PERSON REALLY A HERO?’ A KID ISN’T SUPPOSED TO THINK ABOUT THAT AND BE READY TO SACRIFICE THEMSELVES FOR THE GREATER GOOD,, i,, ugh,, he’s supposed to be finishing school and designing temples not being the perfect hero and soldier,, spain without the s,,

as @couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name said: ‘thinking about how ghost! Jason didn’t seem to understand why Apollo was so upset about his death because he’s been raised to believe a hero’s sacrifice is noble and his life doesn’t matter in the grand scheme and also if he doesn’t understand why the person who watched him get horrifically killed is so torn up over his death he probably doesn’t even realize his other friends are grieving him..’

IM SO UPSET THE ARROW OF DODONA IS DEAD D: IT WAS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE CHARACTERS ALL THE FUNNIEST MOMENTS WERE BECAUSE OF THAT ARROW AND IT'S DEATH WAS SO SAD WTH LIKE WE FIND OUT HOW USELESS THE ARROW FELT AND HOW THE GROVE OF DODONA ALL THOUGHT IT WOULD BE CRAP AND WOULD FAIL APOLLO AND THEN ONCE WE FEEL BAD FOR IT, IT DIES??

the entire python battle was pretty grim, there is a part of me that's like because this is the last book series i would have loved say the magnus chase and kane chronicles gang in a giant battle with everyone like the battle of manhattan but even more dramatic, but even so, i did appreciate that python battle and the whole almost-falling-into-the-depths-of-tartarus thing.

him talking to artemis was cool, but JESUS: 'I turned and strode out of my room, trying to recall how the god Apollo walked.' like that HURTS. it was such a huge culture shock for apollo to go throught this huge character arc and be so human and understand the pain of others, to be around gods again who are so.. apathetic. also, zeus. 'Interesting how he put that: I had done him proud. I had been useful in making him look good. My heart did not melt. I did not feel that this was a warm-and-fuzzy reconciliation with my father. Let's be honest: some fathers don't deserve that. Some aren't capable of it.'

OKAY OKAY SO THE END?? CHIRON TALKING TO A CAT (BAST) AND A SEVERED HEAD (MIMIR) ABOUT SHARED PROBLEMS WITHIN THE PANTHEONS!! WILL AND NICO RECEIVING A PROPHECY FROM RACHEL TO GO TO TARTARUS AND SAVE BOB!! THE HUNTERS OF ARTEMIS, INCLUDING THALIA AND REYNA BEING BEST FRIENDS (qpr.. qpr..) HUNTING THE TEUMESSIAN FOX!! PERCY, ANNABETH AND GROVER, THE ORIGINAL TRIO, GOING ON A CHAOTIC ROAD TRIP TOGETHER!! - SO MANY STAND-ALONE SET -UPS PFSJSJSJ

okay quick word on the reunions at the end: funny little elephant visitation program with livia and hannibal. love that for them. calypso and leo's relationship seems rocky and complicated, but that's to be expected, i think even if they do get properly back together again it might not last long, because it does pretty much feel like a teenage relationship where the two aren't very compatible, but we'll see. hazel and frank are so funny with their gold plated necklaces. lavinia - tap-dance icon. almost cried at the mention of jason's temple-extension plan again. percy not being sure about what he wants to do in college is accurate and i like that that's left to be up-for-interpretation (rick does THE MOST for the fanfic writers pfsjsj). i am OBSESSED with aeithales, like i hate deserts so the burning maze setting is not my favourite but GOD that HOUSE, the vibes are off-the-charts. i'd love a house made of living trees that's also a greenhouse filled with dryads. meg gets a unicorn. that is so great.

i kind of wish the book hadn't ended with 'Call on me. I will be there for you.' because every time I imagine the friends theme song and i don't think that's the vibe he was going for, BUT i do love him talking to meg, that was genuinely emotional - 'You'll come back?' she asked. 'Always,' I promised. 'The sun always comes back.' ; i really wish it had ended with that, but i guess apollo does tend to break fourth walls and talk to the readers, like a lot of the protagonists of riordanverse books.

[tyongf-nct]

what else are friends for? - jung wooyoung {smut}

thank you to this anon for the idea! 

dynamic: wooyoung x female reader

warnings/tags: wooyoung POV, best friend!wooyoung, corruption kink, innocent!reader, implied virgin!reader, oral sex (female receiving), only reader orgasms

~

Wooyoung could not stand you.

Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but you did drive him crazy. You were so innocent, so wide-eyed and sweet it was almost infuriating. As your best friend, Wooyoung felt a strong sense of protection over you, wanting to keep you away from harm and always looking out for you. At some point that protective instinct had turned into a deep lust for you. Specifically, a need to ruin you.

Your encounters with other boys had usually not gotten past a certain point, with your lack of experience and nerves about rushing into anything you hadn’t gotten very far—sexually, that was.

That didn’t stop you from discussing these things with Wooyoung, though. After all, he was your closest friend and the person you trusted most. This provided quite an issue for Wooyoung, however, because the whole time you’d be rambling on about how desperate you were to just do it, he couldn’t stop thinking about bending you over a desk and just absolutely ravaging you like you wanted so badly.

“I just wish I was brave enough to get it over with,” you said one evening while watching a movie with Wooyoung in his bed, “Like, doing it to myself is no problem, but suddenly when I’m with a guy I get so uptight? What is that about?”

Wooyoung struggled to hold in a choked sound at the word “tight”. He tried to nod encouragingly, but frankly the only thing on his mind was the image of you spread out and moaning for him. He felt awful about these thoughts, trying to shake them from his head but you kept going on and on about how horny you were. Finally, he snapped.

“Have you ever thought that maybe you won’t have sex because none of the guys you try to sleep with are the right guys? Huh? Did you ever think about that?”

Your words were cut off suddenly, a shocked expression passing over your features. You didn’t look upset, but rather confused at Wooyoung’s sudden outburst. Wooyoung felt himself blush at his unjustified reaction, folding back into himself as he tried to cover his face.

“I mean...I guess I did think about that,” you started hesitantly, “But...who do you suggest to be the right guy? You?”

This time Wooyoung really did choke, uncovering his face to whip his gaze over to you. You were sitting expectantly, doe eyes round and boring into him so cutely. Wooyoung sighed, turning his body to face you completely before letting it all out.

“Alright, the truth is...I have been thinking about you. With me. About—you and me together. I-in bed, I mean,” he stuttered. You coughed, evidently surprised at Wooyoung’s suggestion. He cursed himself internally, wondering if it was a mistake to confess, but your next response placed the confidence right back in him. 

“That might just be a good idea,” you said.

“What?” His eyes widened like yours usually did. The look of innocence of his face rivaled yours and you almost laughed at how surprised he looked. 

“Well, I am much more comfortable with you, naturally. Plus, it’s not like I’m not attracted to you…”

“Y-you are?” He exclaimed.

“Yes,” you giggled, “And maybe you…maybe you could teach me. How to, d-do it, you know.” Wooyoung couldn’t tell, but he assumed your face was warming as the realization of what you were saying took over.

“Yes! I mean, yes, I would definitely do that. For you. With you, I mean,” he cleared his throat. You seemed to consider it for a moment longer before nodding. Unsure what to do next, it took you looking into his eyes and blinking a few times before he kicked into action, turning off the television and moving to sit in front of you.

“Okay, so since this is your first, um, time, I won’t do anything crazy. Nothing will hurt, okay? I promise,” Wooyoung said. You nodded, biting your lip as the familiar look of innocence crossed over your features. Wooyoung wanted to groan right then and there, thinking about corrupting a sweet little girl like you. He refocused himself, though, reminding his mind that you were his best friend and only deserved the best treatment.

“Lay down on your back and take off your shorts. I’ll make you feel so good, I swear,” his deep voice sent a shiver through you, a satisfied smirk forming on Wooyoung’s lips. Good to know you responded so easily to him.

You shifted on the bed, following his instructions and laying back with your lower clothing off. You were left in cute little panties and your t-shirt, looking so small and untouched underneath Wooyoung. He groaned roughly, the sight of you bringing blood rushing to his length. He tried to conceal his hard-on, not wanting to freak you out when you already looked so nervous. Wooyoung brushed a gentle hand up your bare thigh, relaxing you effectively as he watched the tensed muscles start to soften.

When you seemed relaxed enough, Wooyoung moved down until his face was equal with your core. The small whimper you let you when he kissed your inner thigh nearly had him rutting on the bed like a desperate puppy, a sharp burst of hormones rushing to his gut. 

“Fuck, I might come in my pants just listening to you,” he grumbled. You either didn’t hear him or didn’t care, because you kept making the tiny little impatient noises as he kissed up your thigh. Once he reached your center, he took a deep breath to steady himself, the nerves stronger in him than in you, and he hooked a finger in your panties to pull them aside.

“Fuck,” he blurted. 

Your core was so pink and soft, as innocent and untouched as the rest of you. Wooyoung’s eyes rolled back, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting your sweet skin. 

“You sure?” He looked up at you through thick lashes. You nodded, sighing a hoarse, “yes” before he continued with moving closer to your center. The noise that you let out at the first stroke of his tongue should have been illegal. Wooyoung couldn’t help but push his clothed erection against the mattress, groaning against your skin as he started to lick and suck the best way he knew how. Your moans were high and sweet, so helpless and fucking hot as Wooyoung ate you out.

He slid his tongue all the way up your core, collecting the wetness in his mouth as it coated his full pink lips and sharpened tongue. Your small hands reached down to grasp at his hair, tugging and holding on desperately as you started to grind against his face. Wooyoung couldn’t stop the pathetic moan that escaped him, his fantasy of finally taking away your innocence coming true in one gloriously dirty moment. It didn’t take more than five minutes before you were coming all over his face, droplets of your arousal falling down your center before Wooyoung lapped it up like a cat sipping a bowl of milk. 

By now, Wooyoung was rock hard and this close to creaming his pants. He didn’t think he had ever been so turned on in his life. Your frame was shaking with pleasure as you rode out the last few minutes of your orgasm, hips bucking up with one last kiss to your core.

You finally spoke up after two silent minutes, “Should I, you know, help you out?”

Wooyoung was confused before he looked down and realized what you were suggesting. He chuckled, coming up to press a kiss to your lips before it struck him that it was the first time he had ever kissed you, and now all you’d remember about your first kiss together was how your own pussy tasted.

“No, baby, don’t worry about that. Next time, alright?” His voice was soft and reassuring. You nodded, looking a little relieved, and grinning mischievously. 

“You know, that was our first kiss,” you sang. Wooyoung blushed, looking away with embarrassment.

“I know. Sorry, it probably wasn’t that nice after...what just happened.”

“It definitely could have tasted better,” you laughed. He smacked your thigh playfully, unable to control the giggles bubbling out of him as well.

“It tasted great to me,” he smirked, cackling when you groaned and smacked your hands over your own face.

[peachyunjinnie]

Lee Felix A-Z

chan  minho  changbin  hyunjin  jisung  felix  seungmin

masterlist    making out with felix

pairing ➛ lee felix x female reader

genre ➛ a - z list

warnings ➛ mention of kinks

synopsis ➛ this is an alphabetical list of smut themes, from aftercare to kinks everything is covered in this post.

word count ➛ 1.4k

author’s note ➛ i am back with another A-Z. to be honest i had to think for a second because the duality of lix is kind of complicating. but i hope you enjoy !!

A: Aftercare

He is kind of lost, but really wants to be there for you. He will ask you every 2 seconds if you’re okay or if you want something to eat or a bath/shower. He is such a sweetheart and only allows himself to relax when you’re fast asleep. 

With a long stretched ‘fuck’ and him cumming inside in your throbbing walls, he took some minutes to calm down and stood up to get a wet towel. He cautiously cleaned you up and massaged your thighs. 

“Babe, do you need anything? A bath? A snack? Something to drink-” his voice slightly shaking not knowing what he should do, now.

“Lixie, I want you to come here and cuddle with me.”

A small smile spread over his beautiful lips and he crawled to me and kept me in his arms for the night.

B: Body

On himself:

He really likes his freckles but his abs are his capital. He works hard for them and wants people to know that he keeps himself fit. He is really proud of his body so he would pretty much love his abs the most on himself.

On his S/O: 

He absolutely adores you in any way, but your hair has something that he cannot stop thinking about. He loves your length and the color. He thinks it suits you. He  l o v e s  to play with them when he is bored or when the two of you are just talking with each other. He also loves your little reminders, you give him. If he forgets something you are the calendar for him. It shows him some sort of affection that he goes crazy for.

C: Cum

He would prefer inside but he as well likes your mouth. Your puffy lips spreading the cum. This boy can messy, not minding where he cums. He could literally cum anywhere on your body and he would love it. 

D: Dirty Secret

He watches hentai. He seems like the type to watch them so secretly. He doesn’t want to be judged by anyone so he just does it when NOBODY is around. No members, No You and Not any other human being in the radius 2 miles. For real this boy really is a scared baby when it comes to his little dirty hentai side.

E: Experience

He has a little experience. He joined JYP when he was 17-ish and at that age he could’ve literally do anything. I think that he may have had a relationship, but much more than that Felix is not that extremely experienced.

F: Favorite Position

Lix loves when you ride him. He has a perfect view of everything. Of this gorgeous body and most importantly your facial expressions. When you hit too deep and it reaches your G-Spot of how your little nose scrunches up and your eyes shut together tightly. He is in complete love with his sight and sometimes accidentally thrusts upwards to see your reaction.

G: Goofy

He is such a goofball but when it comes to fucking he gets serious. He just wants to do anything for you and make you feel comfortable that he gets way into the thought of having to satisfy you that he forgets to be the goof that he normally is. But you don’t mind it at all.

H: Hair

I’ve been thinking about what I should write and I’ve come to the conclusion that I have no idea. I want to say that he is bare but I can’t trust my guts on that one. I think your own imagination will be way better though.

I: Intimacy

He is very intimate. He just wants to be close to you and make you feel every single inch of him. He wants to caress and stroke your body. Shower you with kisses and make you feel as precious as you are.

J: Jack Off

This boy can get so freaking horny from time to time that it’s really concerning. Out of nowhere you could be standing there and he would whisper in your ear that he needs you now. He would fiddle his violin maybe 3-6 times a week? Felix is horny and needy.

K: Kinks

Slight BDSM: Giving

Praises: Receiving, Giving

Slight Choking: Giving

Slight Bondage: Receiving ,Giving

A little Daddy Kink: Receiving 

L: Location

He prefers to stay in bed but a little exhibitionism isn’t something he would say no to. Maybe a blowjob backstage or on the couch of living room in the dorm. He likes the small adrenaline rush, he had the fantasy of fucking you in the dance practice room and he loved it a lot so he suggested it once.

M: Motivation

Titties. He is loves them a lot. Small, big he doesn’t care. He loves how soft they are and how his cum drips down from your chin. How they bounce when you ride him, how they are covered with purple and red bruises once he is done with you.

N: No

I think Felix would definitely hate hurting you or being too harsh on you, so blood play or knives play is a big no. If you would recommend it he would try to but you would see that he is having such a hard time.

O: Oral

He is a big big big blowjob enthusiast. He admires how your small mouth can do all of this magic, how you can make him feel euphoric. Lix may not be experienced but boy he knows what he is doing, with his tongue and his lips. Girl, he may not be a pro but he can do something.

P: Pace

He goes for a slower pace and gets faster with time, if you know what I mean. He starts out with slow and long thrusts, and works himself up. His sensual and intimate thrusts develop into a hard and deep jolts.

Q: Quickie

Lix as said in Location, can do some quickies but doesn’t do it too much. His fear of getting caught is pretty permanent, so he does it sometimes in places like dance practice rooms or in the dorm. When he knows that you like it then he would definitely be down to do it more than he already does.

R: Risk

The adrenaline is what he loves, the blood rushing through his body and the head full of thoughts about getting it done fast is what gets him going. Backstage lix would ask you to help him with his ‚problem‘ and not long after that you two could be found in the bathroom with his member in your mouth.

S: Stamina

His stamina is pretty good. Maybe for 2-3 rounds but after the 3rd round his energy would lack. He can do it with some foreplay.

T: Toy

He doesn’t really have any toys whatsoever, except for a small vibrator. He prefers to please you with his mouth or his dick but sometimes when he gets too deep into fucking you he grabs the vibrator and gets you screaming.

U: Unfair

He can get a little unfair but not as much as the others (Minho, Chan and Hyunjin) but that does not mean this boy will not get you hot and needy. Him on stage is pretty much how teasing he can get.

V: Volume

Felix‘s volume is a very very low. His iconic line in 3rd eye is kind of how low it can get when he lets out a small groan or says something like „Princess, you like that?“. His groans and moans next to your ear while he thrusts into you slowly and sensually.

W: Wild Card

You two once tried BDSM and he was enjoying it more than he wants to admit. He liked the blindfolds and the whips but he is still a little bit scared to seriously harm you but with your reaction and your moans he gets more and more confident with his dom side.

X: X-Ray

A good 6 inches. On the thicker side and a little veiny. He is a little bit bent but that reaches all of your spots so well that you could not complain whatsoever.

Y: Yearning

Let’s be honest he yearns for you everyday. He just really wants you by his side all the time and just wants to make you feel like the goddess that you are.

Z: ZZZ

As said in Aftercare, Felix is so tired and worn out after but he will still be awake or tries to be until you are asleep. In case you need something. 

[slashingdisneypasta]

NATM 2 Rogues (Sans Kah) x Teddy Roosevelt (Super Platonically) || Oneshot

Title: I Was Made In A Mannequin Factory In Poughkeepsie

Notes: 

This may become a series. For now though, enjoy the meeting of Teddy! 

Plot: Even though Larry has agreed to travel with the tablet between the three museums, seeing as it wouldn’t be fair to out of the blue bring all these things and people (back) to life and then dump them back into non-existence, it was deemed necessary to move Kahmunhrah’s ‘business partners’ to the Natural History Museum so they’re far away from Kahmunrah’s gate and cant even ponder bringing him back- because that is undesirable outcome, for everyone.

After they arrive at the museum, most of the other exhibits (Sans the good old Easter Island Head and Dexter) keep their distance from them. Everyone’s uncomfortable about this move and change, and that’s understandable but it doesn’t feel good at all… until Teddy steps in.  

Warnings: I guess, exclusion? But don’t worry, Teddy will fix it

~~~

“Its is a… nice museum, I suppose.” Ivan, the first to talk when they leave their crates -Larry had yet to figure out a place to put them or construct exhibits for them,- the first night at their new home, 3 hours after the sun went down. They had been busy wondering around the halls, exploring the new playing field together… thinking. Now they stand together, alone, back with their crates in a hallway.

No one had come to greet them unless you count the Easter Island Head asking for ‘gum gum’- but they had looked at them, for sure. Some scowls, some glares, but most they were wary looks as people walked away. Its not that the three men expected a warm greeting, but they didn’t really expect news about them to spread so fast, either.

Napoleon takes a deep breath, breaking out of his thoughtful trance and glances up at Ivan. It was be impolite to leave him without a response when he’s attempted -however blandly, - to fix the mood… Looking around the place quickly, Napoleon notes the tall ceiling and the railings. “Uh, oui, it has some beautiful architecture, Ivan… “

“I like the colour of the wood.” Ivan adds, continuing the conversation because what else is there to do?? If this aloneness is any indication of how they’ll be living for the rest of their time here, then theirs no point in sitting and being solemn about it. Al, on the other hand makes a face at the Tzar from his place sitting on his crate beside Napoleon. Napoleon nods in agreement, looking around at the floors with risen eyebrows.

“I agree, it’s very, uh, museum-y.”

“Da.”

Theirs a lapse of awkward silence in the conversation, before Napoleon promptly turns to Al. “What do you think of the wood- “

“Oh nah, nah, nah, don’t look at me. I’m not playing this game with you people.” He takes his hands off the crate on either side of him for the first time since he sat down and rubs the lines left there from how tight he was gripping. “We’re all thinkin’ the same thing. You saw what I saw, how they’re lookin’ at us. They know about Kahmunrah and us. We ain’t safe here.”

Ivan’s eyebrows raise up his forehead. “Are not safe??” That’s a little bit of an overreaction, isn’t it? He was thinking maybe they were looking at a long, lonely life with just each other but… peril? What? That was not on the radar!

“Oui, I agree with him. Ivan, haven’t you heard of Caesar?” Napoleon looks forward again, face growing darker. “A great leader… like us… stabbed thirty-seven times in the middle of a crowded room. These rooms feel like that when we’re in them.”

“I’m sure you are overreacting. These are all but peasant, who- “Ivan immediately squints, on realising what he said. He looks for an even amount of time between Al and Napoleon, suspicious. “Wait.”

“If I was gonna kill you, man, I’d do it my Tommy.” Al raises his gun, rolling his eyes at Ivan. “Which doesn’t work, as we all know.” Ivan and Napoleon nod slowly at that, remembering Al’s idiocy that the man himself choose not to mention. He puts the useless gun back down in his lap. “Besides, probably couldn’t get a knife through all those layers on you, anyway.”

Ivan spares another suspicious look at the back of Al’s head. Then they watch some faceless soldiers pass by them in the hallway, ignoring them completely.

“So, what are we going to do about this??” Napoleon asks, a high and impatient tone in his voice and he whips around the face Al. “I don’t know about you two, but I’ve already died once and I do not look forward to giving that red, horned beast another chance at me.” When he was alive, Napoleon would have never mentioned the Devil outright like that. He never would have suggested he was going to that place, in the first place.

… but now he knows how he’s remembered. He knows what parts of his life he’s judged on. The blood, the fear, and the death. He doesn’t see why deaths judgement will be any different.

Ivan takes a deep breath in, hearing Napoleons words like a stab through the gut, and looks furiously at him, but stays quiet. He’s right…

“Me neither. Boys, we need a plan.”

Ivan immediately rejects one part of Al’s phrase. “I am not one of your monochromatic minions, Alphonse, refrain from calling me your ‘boy’.”

And Napoleon, another. “For what?! Its not like we can charter a carriage and travel back to Washington in our condition!”

Al takes in a deep, refrained breath of his own this time, and slowly turns threatening around to speak quietly to Napoleon, first. “Mate, no one charters carriages anymore anyway. They’re called cars, now. And of course, I wasn’t suggesting that- don’t assume I’m an idiot!”

“I beg to differ! I think it would be much safer for us all if we all assumed that!”

“I’ll get right back to you, Froggy. And Ivan! I don’t take kindly to being told what not to d- “

“Ah! There you are!”

The new voice startles the 3 out of their budding argument, and the all turn down the hall towards where the Easter Island head is planted- to see an older man with a brown moustache, a jolly smile on his face and his hand on the handle of a sword coming towards them. Ivan raises an eyebrow, confused about who this could possibly be and why he is coming towards them so familiarly, Napoleon whips out his own sword and jumps to his feet, and Al just watches the 26th President of his country speed walk towards him, dumbfounded. None of them are yet used to historical figures they know, being alive also.

As soon as Teddy stops in front of them, he calmly raises his hands in surrender. “No, no. Sorry, sir.  I just hold the handle of my weapon, so it stays still while I walk. I should’ve known better- my apologies.”

Napoleon holds Teddy’s stare for a moment… Ivan and Al watch the tension a little worried and a little amused… and then the general puts his sword back away on his hip. Something about the way this man calls him ‘sir’, acknowledging their military positions and the kind sparkle in his eyes… Napoleon tries to calm down again, as Teddy smiles to them all in turn, under that moustache of his.

“Good evening, men! I apologise that I’m late. I meant to greet you as soon as we awoke for the night, but I’m afraid there was an unfortunate run in between our night guard and a monkey. Just routine stuff, don’t worry! Its settled now.” He offers his gloved hand to Napoleon, the closes to him, first. “Theodore Roosevelt, 26th US President. Don’t be afraid to call me Teddy, though. I’m not president anymore.”

The way he says it makes them all think he’s joking about not being a leader anymore. Like it doesn’t actually bother him, and none of them understand it.

But they move on, anyway. It’s something to discuss later, anyway.

They all shake their hands and introduce themselves, and Teddy nods his head. Once introductions are over, his hands both touch the sides of his thighs in, nearly a ‘A-Ten-HUT!’ kind of stance, spine completely straight. Ivan and Napoleon appreciate the good form. “So, I trust you’re settling in here well? Everyone is being welcoming??”

Al takes his hands, puts them on Ivan and Napoleons arms and prods them out of the way so he can go toe-to-toe with ‘Teddy’. They just give him dirty looks and shuffle to give him room, Ivan rolling his eyes at Al’s temperament. Such a child. “Actually bub, they been givin’ us dirty looks all night. We feel like them slaves, in Rome, ‘bout to be thrown into the auditorium with the lions!”

Napoleon sighs deeply. Coliseum… not, auditorium…

But Teddy doesn’t disregard Al’s statement because of a small mistake, like any superior Napoleon new, would have. His face fills with concern and frustration. “Well, I’m very sorry you feel that way. I told them to… we had a meeting… “Teddy’s face looks positively stormy, for a few moments there, a stark difference from his earlier cheer. Al feels pride well in him, getting such a serious reaction. He thinks, maybe this guy, who’s clearly the leader of this motley bunch, will get some executions going now! That’ll be great! This place is about to get a real glow-up! -

… That is, until Al truly recognises the expression on the older mans face.

Its not murderous. He doesn’t even think he describe it as ‘pissed’.

More like… disappointed. Like a mother about her children.

Al sets himself back onto the heels of his feet as he had popped onto his tippy toes. Good god, what kind of Brady Bunch shit has he walked into?

Finally, Teddy sighs, kisses his lips and comes to a conclusion. “Well, we’ll fix that. Come along, men! We’ll introduce you to the group!” He starts walking off back down the hall the way he came, calling loudly to the Easter Island head that honestly creeps Ivan out a bit, to please call a meeting.

Napoleon, Ivan and Al look at each other for a moment.

… Follow? Or stay behind?

Or, more specifically, go force themselves out of their comfort zone and make acquaintanceships, or cage themselves in to a lonely rest of their time here and possible assassination?

Ivan turns, squares his shoulders and follows the ex-president first, followed by Napoleon with his nose in the air, and finally an uncertain Al. “Fine, but I aint trust none of ‘em.”

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Bury My Love (Final Part)

jooA/n: This is the final part, folks, it’s BIG SAD until it gets happy. It’s been a long road and I love this fic a lot, it’s a little bittersweet to finish it! Also I finally made a banner after the final part :/

Warnings: The softest, saddest smut ever written in my entire life, unprotected sex, big sad, bit angst, but happy ending finally

Word Count: 2265

taglist: @purpletigertaetae​, @lvupmushroom​, @wannatrymebitch​, @jooheonbee​, @confusemonkey​, @wuggaboo

You’re asleep when your phone rings, and since Namjoon never called, only has your number for emergencies, you rush to answer it.

“Yes?” You answer, and your heart is pounding.

“Hello, Y/n. I’m sorry to call so early…I need your help at the office.”

"N..now? It's not even seven, Joon-"

"I'd consider it a personal favor to me, Y/n."

You swallow hard, blinking sleep from your eyes. Lately it was taking three glasses of wine to get you to be able to sleep and your stomach feels heavy and sick. But Namjoon didn't know any of that, didn't know you were heartbroken and grieving the loss of someone you maybe never even had, and he'd never asked you for anything.

"Okay. Give me half an hour."

You feel like you're going to vomit when you pull up to the building. Maybe a bottle of wine wasn't the best sleep aid.

You realize you must be the first staff at the office, and you're grateful you'd taken the time to put on a little makeup because you feel your face paling when Namjoon's office door is open.

Are you about to get fired? Is that why it was Namjoon who called? For moral support?

It's Jungkook you see first when you walk in, limbs feeling heavy.

"Noona! Thank God you're here." He says, and gives you a big bear hug that makes you smile a little.

Namjoon flashes his dimples at you, too. 

Then your eyes fall on the couch, where Yoongi is sitting, shoulders slumped, and your heart seizes in your chest.

"What is this?" You ask, voice cracked.

"It's an intervention," Namjoon says firmly.

Yoongi doesn't speak, doesn't move. The room reeks of alcohol and vomit. Yoongi looks pale and thin and you hate how it makes your throat seize with worry.

"We just want you two to talk," Jungkook says softly.

You take in a deep, slow breath. "Listen, I'm glad that you all think enough of me to ask me to talk, but-"

Yoongi speaks for the first time and his voice is hoarse. "They know."

You swallow, your throat feeling full.

Namjoon stands from his chair and pats your shoulder as he walks out, while Jungkook just 

flashes his bunny smile and follows.

You feel like you can barely breathe when you sit down in Namjoon's desk chair.

"I'm sorry," Yoongi chokes out, head still hanging, looking small and defeated. "I'm just so fucking sorry."

"What happened last night?" You ask, trying to ignore the ache in your chest, how badly you ache to reach out and take his hand.

Yoongi shakes his head. "Nothing. I got too drunk and Kookie was worried and... I'm sorry. I'm sorry it got out, I didn't want that."

"So what, you're upset your dirty little secret got out?" You spit out, grateful for the anger that rises in you because it helps not to hurt so much.

Yoongi looks up at you, and the look on his face spears right through your heart. He looks so tired, so stricken, and all you want to do is throw yourself into his arms and you hate yourself for it.

"No. No, I'm upset because I was a fucking idiot. I thought I could protect you. I thought I could keep you from...from all this."

You're quiet for a moment, your blood boiling, head spinning. "Are you trying to tell me that you broke up with me ...that you ripped my heart out ...to protect me?"

You can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. "I...you don't understand, Y/n, you don't know what it's like, what people are like when stuff like this gets out…"

You’re stunned into silence, and Yoongi wrings his hands in his lap. “Y/n.”

“Fuck you, Min Yoongi,” you say, voice shaking, and you stand up, trembling with rage. “You think I didn’t think about that? You think I didn’t know that things might get hairy, dating an idol? You thought I just jumped into this without knowing that?”

He’s looking up at you blankly, mouth parted. “I-”

“I did it anyway, Yoongi. I did it anyway because I’m in love with you, you fucking idiot!” Angry tears are spilling from your eyes.

Yoongi swallows again and stands, his hands coming out and hovering near your arms, as if he’s afraid you might push him away. “Y/n...I...I love you. I still love you so fucking much, and I-”

A sob hitches in your chest. “Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this now? What’s changed, Yoongi? You must still think I’m too weak and stupid to date you, to get through stupid shit like scandals and being apart -”

“I don’t-”

“The only thing that’s changed is that I’m moving on. I’m moving on and you’re not, you’re just moping around and demanding to know who I’m fucking like you didn’t give up any right to know that the second you broke up with me over a fucking phone call!” 

Yoongi’s breath catches in his throat, and his eyes are wet, searching your face.

“It’s not like that, baby, I swear. I swear to you. I thought I could do this. I thought I was strong enough to let you go and let you be happier but I’m not. I’m fucking not and it’s a knife through my gut every time you look right through me like I never meant anything to you. Did I? Did I ever mean anything to you?”

“How can you even ask me that?” You’re sobbing in earnest, now, and you suddenly feel defeated, sitting down on the couch hard.

You feel him sit down next to you, feel his hand rubbing circles on your back and it just makes you sob harder. It’s been such a long few weeks, so many nights just crying and wondering why he didn’t want you, why he’d turned on a dime from the sweet, soft boy he was with you to that harsh asshole on the phone, telling you he was too busy to listen to you cry.

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness," Yoongi says, voice shaking. "I know I don't deserve you. I never did, but I….I still want you. I need you, baby, I feel like I can't breathe without you."

"Why are you doing this to me? Why now, when I was just starting to think there was life after you…"

Yoongi's hands clutch at yours. "Please," he gasps. "Please, don't. I don't want you to move on. I can't watch you move on, Y/n, it'll kill me."

"Because you're jealous? Because you're territorial? Some knee jerk reaction-"

"No. No! Because I realized that you're stronger than me. I realized I had underestimated you."

You can't speak, just crying, and Yoongi cups your face in his hands.

"Please," he says, voice low and broken. "Please, let me...let me touch you? Let me show you how much I still love you, doll, please…"

You whimper in the back of your throat, giving in, letting yourself melt against his mouth when he kisses you, hard and hungry and desperate, and you know this might all fall apart, that you might end up heartbroken all over again, but you can't bring yourself to care.

***

There's something in him that's so desperate he can barely remember to breathe when you kiss him back, when your hands clutch at his shirt, something in him telling him this might be the last time he gets to feel his palms on your skin, the last time he hears his name breathy on your lips, and it hurts, feels like broken glass in his chest because this, buried inside you a few moments later, this is the place he feels most at home.

He ignores his body urging him to go faster, fucks you slow and deep, tears spilling from his eyes like they'll never stop, blurring your face. He wants this to last as long as it can, wants to burn the memory behind his eyelids so that he can bring it up when he thinks he can't keep going, when you leave him because he deserves it, because he hurt you.

He doesn't delude himself that he'll have the strength not to beg you to stay, so he makes it last, ignoring the pull in his stomach, the ache in his balls, your whimpering and pleading.

The couch is too small to touch you everywhere like he wants, to commit the memory of your skin under his hands, so he cups your face, kissing along your cheekbones, the salt of your tears and his own tangy on his tongue.

"I'm sorry," he says, words hitching in his chest because they aren't enough, even combined with the reverent way he's looking at you, how his body is slotted with yours like a puzzle piece. "I love you. I love you so fucking much and I'm so fucking sorry."

Your only answer is the way your back arches, how your cunt clenches around his cock.

Yoongi cries out in frustration when he can't hold back anymore, when he spills inside you, kissing you over and over again, moaning into your mouth and he holds you so tight when it's over, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm pulse around his spent cock and he hides his face in your neck when you wiggle under him.

"Not yet. Not yet, please." He murmurs against your skin, feeling wide open and raw, like if he lets you up you'll slip away from him for good and you're breathing hard under him.

"Yoongi. Yoongi, let me up." Your voice is soft but he thinks maybe that hurts worse than if you we're yelling and he shifts to let you up, covers his face with his hands as he hears you shuffling to get dressed, feeling like there's someone sitting on his chest.

He thinks for a moment that he can do it, that he won't break down and beg you not to go but after a moment of silence a sob catches in his throat.

"Baby. Y/n," he mutters, and it's a hoarse whisper that hurts his throat. "Don't."

You take his hands from his face and you're dressed and kneeling beside him on the floor.

"Yoongi."

He looks over at you miserably, and your eyes are so soft it's a spear through him and he prays there's enough liquor hidden somewhere in Namjoon's office to get him through the day.

"If I give you another chance, will I regret it?" You ask, searching his face, and he's so shocked he doesn't answer for a second.

He scrambles up, adjusting his half off clothes, leaning down towards you.

"Never," he breathes. "Never, I'll never hurt you again, I swear."

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and there's hope rising in his chest and he's not sure he'll survive it if you change your mind, not now, so he cups your face in bis hands, brushes his nose against yours.

"I swear, baby. I'll be so good to you, always."

"Yoongi...I can't do this again. You can't do this to me ever again."

He shakes his head fiercely. "Never, never, never," he chants, kissing you all over your face, and when you smile the pressure in his chest finally breaks.

He pulls you up into his lap, squeezing you tight, kissing every inch of exposed skin he can reach, and you're giggling when you pull away and it feels strange to be smiling, like he's almost forgotten how.

"I gotta go to work now," you say, smiling, and Yoongi pouts.

"I just got you back. You can't go to work." He grumbles, and you kiss his nose.

"I can go to work, and you can go home and shower and sleep. You're a mess, Min Yoongi."

He nods solemnly. "I am. I've been such a big mess without you. You have to take care of me. I clearly can't do it myself."

You grin and that's when there is a soft knock on the door, Namjoon peeking his head in.

You scramble up and Yoongi whines, grabbing at your hand.

You manage to dodge him and he stands up, squeezing your hand in his. You look up at him. "I'm gonna try to get out of work," you say, and peck his cheek before releasing his hand.

As you pass Namjoon you nod to him. "Thank you."

Namjoon smiles at Yoongi.

"Yes, thank you," Yoongi says quickly. "Thank Kookie for me, too." As he passes Namjoon, he whispers, "I'll replace the couch."

"Wait, what?" The leader calls after him.

***

He spends days with you, hands all over you, murmuring apologies into your skin with his mouth and his hands and you end up having to take three days off because of muscle strain.

When you try to go home on the third day, he sits up and grabs you around the waist, yanks you back into bed.

“Move in with me,” he whispers against your neck, and things move pretty fast after that, even though he still gets nervous when you go out in public, making you wear a hat and a mask and clutching your hand tight.

It’s worth it, in the end, all his worry and fear, because he gets you at the end of the day, gets to hold you tight against him and bury his face in your hair and breathe in your scent, and he’ll be damned if he ever does anything to jeopardize that ever again.

[spooky-scary-imagines]

heyo! could you write something for michael / billy / stu / and any other slasher you think would be good - about their s/o who has a really bad stutter (and who possibly might be bullied or something of the nature) your work is really good and ahh!! i needed to see a stuttering mess in a work to make me happy about my own stutter

((Totally! I hope these lil drabbles help cheer you up some! And remember, never feel bad about your voice. It’s not the way you talk that matters, it’s the words and the feelings behind them. I’d write for all of them if I could but I decided to add Bubba, Norman, and Chop-Top for this one cause two of them have a stutter (though Chop-Top’s ain’t as strong and Norman’s is more due to anxiety and therefore written different) and the other is just always v good. They’re also some of my favorites so I’ll always love writing them lol. Btw I tried my best to write a stutter accurately but, like always, I want to make sure I didn’t write anything offensive or inaccurate so let me know if there’s anything along those lines. Also, this is long af so I added a read-more.

Various slashers s/o with a stutter:

Michael:

“M-M-Michael d-d-don’t do this,” you pleaded. He stared at you emotionless, as he plunged the knife back in.

“P-P-please! You-You pr-promised!” He ignored you and pulled the knife in and out of the now-mutilated flesh.

”Y-Y-You sa-said you would w-w-wait! It’s n-n-n-not e-even  H-Halloween!” He reached in and pulled out a mass of slimy guts and pulp, then gestured to you to take it. You held out your hand and took his offering, mildly disgusted.

You went to a kitchen drawer and pulled out a gallon Ziploc bag, dumping the handful inside. “H-Here. We-we’ll j-j-j-just save s-some and I’ll m-make something w-w-w-with it l-later.” Michael set the knife off to the side and lifted up his current “project” as if presenting it for your approval. You rolled your eyes, but smiled anyway.

“Yes, i-it’s a b-b-b-b-beautiful J-Jack O’Lantern, M-Michael. B-B-But it’s gon-gonna r-rot if we p-p-put it out n-now!” But even as you say it you know you might as well break out the tea candles.

Billy:

Once the bell rang, you nearly ran out of the classroom to your locker. You glowered as you replaced the books from your previous class with the ones for your next. You slammed the door shut to see your boyfriend standing behind it, a wicked, yet charming smirk on his face.

“Boo.” You just rolled your eyes.

“N-Not in the m-m-mood.”

His brow furrowed at that, usually you were more happy to see him. “What’s up babe?” his eyes looked around defensively at your fellow classmates wandering the halls, “Some punks giving you shit again?”

“N-No…” you sighed, “The t-teacher c-c-c-called on me in c-c-class today to r-r-read. Asshole kn-knows I d-d-don’t w-wanna t-talk in front of ev-everyone.”

Billy scowled at that, “What a fucking prick. Want me to teach him something?”

You hesitated for a moment, he was a jerk, but no. “D-D-Don’t w-worry ab-b-bout it B-Billy…He’s-he’s j-j-just doing hi-his job…”

“Hey,” Billy gripped you reassuringly by the shoulders, getting you to look him in the eyes, “Never let nothings like that make you think less of yourself baby. You’re amazing just the way you are.”

You almost felt yourself well up at his thoughtful words. Sometimes he shocked you with how sweet he could be. You nodded, and leaned into hug him.

He returned the embrace, and you felt him lean down to whisper into your ear, “You wanna just ditch and watch movies at my place?” A very tempting offer you may just take him up on.

Stu:

“H-H-Hello? Wh-Who’s this?”

“Do you like scary movies?”

“Ha Ha, very f-f-funny. Wh-Who’s th-th-th-this? F-for real.”

“I’m the scary killer outside your window…”

“Oh s-s-sure. I b-bet,” sarcasm and annoyance dripping from your words, “Quit b-being a creep R-R-Randy.”

“It’s not Randy. That your boyfriend?”

At that comment, you started to get an idea of who your mysterious caller was, but decided to play along. “N-Nah, b-b-but I d-do h-have one.”

“Oh yeah,” the voice giggled, “And what’s he like? Bet he wouldn’t like you talkin’ to lil ole me.”

“P-p-probably n-not, b-b-but he’s not h-here. And you h-h-haven’t h-hung up.”

There was a pause on the other end, then a huff. “You never answered my first question.”

“Oh? Th-that th-thing ab-b-bout s-scary movies? Yeah, I l-l-like ‘em”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

You hesitate for a second, while it would be fun to keep this going, you feel like upping the ante a bit. “I d-d-don’t know. H-How ab-b-bout you c-come up h-here and w-w-watch o-one w-with me?”

“What about your boyfriend?”

“C-C-Come on M-Mister K-K-Killer, h-he c-can join. I th-th-think you kn-know w-where t-to find h-him.”

You heard a shuffling on the other end and then the call abruptly ended. You sat in silence for a moment, curious about what would happen next. A familiar rapping sound came from outside your window. You pulled back the curtain, revealing your boyfriend standing there with his signature goofy grin plastered across his face. Through the glass you hear the voice you’d missed, “Wanna let me in?”

Bubba:

The Sawyer home was unusually quiet right now. With Drayton out at the gas station and his other brother doing god-knows-what, just you Bubba and Grandpa were left at the house. With Bubba working downstairs, you had been left to your own devices. Though you didn’t mind some alone time, it was odd that you hadn’t really seem hide-nor-hair of your beau lately. Though that seemed like it would be changing pretty soon, as you heard the large metal door to the kitchen slam. You turned to see Bubba coming towards you, happily clutching something in his hands.

“W-W-What’ve you g-got there B-Bubba?” He excitedly shoved the object, which you know could tell was a book, into your hands. “Where the Sidewalk Ends” the cover read, with a drawing of two children looking over what looked like the edge of a cliff. You flipped through it, and it appeared to be a collection of poems cute illustrations to go with them. You turned back at your love, who was watching you eagerly, seemingly trying to figure out your reaction.

“It s-seems like a v-very n-nice b-b-book H-Honey. Th-th-thank you.”  His brow seemed to furrow underneath his mask and he poked the book more insistently. You cocked your head in confusion, “I’m af-f-fraid I d-don’t get w-what your s-s-saying.” He opened the book and a warbling hum came from him as he pointed from the words to you.

“You w-w-want m-me to r-r-read it? Out l-loud?” He squealed happily and nodded. “ Are y-you s-s-sure? B-B-But W-what ab-bout th-the way I t-talk?” He nodded again and pulled you into his lap on the couch. He hugged you tightly around the waist, resting his head on your shoulder as he looked down at the book. You laughed softly about his enthusiasm, “Alr-right…I-Invitation…If y-you are a dreamer c-c-come in. If y-you are a dreamer, a w-wisher, a liar. C-Come in….

Chop-Top:

The whole Sawyer house was very much relieved today. It had been awhile since anyone had driven by and food was running kinda low, making everyone a bit on edge and touchy. Luckily, a whole van of people stopped by last night and were quickly dispatched, meaning everyone would get to eat. Your boyfriend’s brothers were currently preparing and cooking the meat, while your boyfriend looted and organized the belongings of the now-cattle.

“Y/N! C-Come in here and take a look at this!” your boyfriend hollered from the other side of the house. This was somewhat ominous as you never could tell what he was going to show you when he got excited like this. His tone of voice when showing you a neat bug was the same when he was propping up and goofing off with a corpse. You walked in and he was standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by a mess of objects scattered around him. On him was the ugliest shirt you had ever seen. It looked like bowling alley carpet had a love child with a kid’s drawing of what a Hawaiian shirt was supposed to look like. It physically hurt your eyes a bit to look at it. “Check out th-these digs babe!” he crowed.

“W-Wow…th-that s-sure is…c-c-copacetic.”

“I know r-right!” He turned back to admire himself in the dirty wall mirror, “T-Totally far-r out!

You hid a grin behind your hand, “You’re one sh-shagad-d-delic c-cat.”

He whipped back around to face you, beaming ear to ear, “Awww sh-shucks,” he wadded his way through the mess over to you, throwing his boney arms around you waist. “You’re pretty b-bitchin’ your-yourself,” he crooned, pressing a sloppy and slightly gross kiss on your cheek. Maybe you could get used to the shirt…

Norman Bates:

There was a record playing in the main lobby of the motel when your returned from tidying one of the cabins. As you stepped in farther, you could make out your sweetheart’s voice singing along softly. Curiosity drew you closer and you watched from the doorway as he folded laundry. His voice was as sweet and smooth as honey and the melody seemed to drip into you, wrapping around and warming your heart.

“It takes a lot of sunshine…To make a s-summer day…But just a little love…Can go a long, long way…”

You wolf-whistled, and he whipped around to face you, dropping the shirt he was holding. “Oh dear, I, um, well, you, w-weren’t supposed, to, er, see t-that.”

You moved towards him, picking up the shirt from the floor and returning it to him. “Y-You s-s-sing b-beautifully you kn-know.”

His eyes flicked back to meet your’s, “R-Really, I, well, I just never, s-sing in front of anyone…”

You smiled, looking up at him with faux innocence, “H-How does th-this one g-g-go again? So i-i-i-incid-dentally…”

He gulped, “Um, Treat love g-gently…”

“W-When it c-c-comes in view…”

“It-It could even, even happen to…”

You both joined in for the last line, “S-someone l-l-like you…”

As the song played on in the background you realized how close the two of you had gotten. You both blushed and turned away slightly, but neither of you could hide the blush or grins painted across your faces.

[ryouverua]

Trial 4 - The Confession  (3)

THIS IS.... NOT HOW I THOUGHT THINGS WOULD GO DOWN... AT ALL...

Investigation 1 / 2

Trial: 1 / 2

WHAT THEY HAVE A TEXT BOX AND EVERYTHING THIS IS LEGIT THEN?!?!

Wait, so she really did meet up with him before the virtual world then? I imagine it was before she gathered everyone, but after that flashback light that caused her to panic the way she did - so in the last few days? And it would have to be before he met Monokuma too... so not yesterday (as I’m imagining this taking place midmorning after they went to the VR world) but the day before that?

I can only imagine what threw him off as she was speaking. He has an excellent poker face though, so I’m not surprised she didn’t realize he was onto her.

It says a lot about Kokichi that he could stay calm in the fact of that, but also it’s... a bit sad that he didn’t think he could approach anyone for help...

... Then again, countering a murder plan with a murder plan is, uh, very Supreme Leader-ish! And one that doesn’t get your own hands dirty...

I guess you are really confessing everything, because I don’t know why you would feel the need to add that damning evidence on top of all the other stuff???

By making it more interesting, did he just mean getting everyone into the simulator full well knowing Miu’s plans, or literally telling Monokuma, ‘I am going to counter Miu’s murder plan with my own’?!?!

It sounds like Kokichi’s idea wasn’t to put the motive in the simulator, after all! Monokuma is straight-up saying it was his!

But does it matter at this point if we didn’t find it??? I swear, between the Necronomicon, the First Blood Perk and this, we seriously not using any of the motives!

So they argue a bit with Monokuma about him working together with a student but he handwaves it away with the whole, well, ~I wasn’t involved with the actual murder myself~ which, okay, fine though technically isn’t he working with the mastermind. It’s kinda distracting from the confession at hand anyway.

  It’s a bit scary how badly you want to confess though.

“Anything that lets me actually put you in the ground.”

That’s a lukewarm revenge -

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

W H A T

j us t

happen....ed...........

shuichi also reacted with probably one of the cutest ‘eh’ sounds I have every heard out of his mouth but unfortunately this is all visual based, not sound based, so I cannot include it here, and also that is entirely beside the point

Holy shit, Kokichi. Holy - shit - DID YOU... STRAIGHT UP... JUST..... DROP GONTA’S NAME...

AN ENTIRELY APPROPRIATE REACTION TO FINDING OUT YOU MURDERED SOMEONE VIA ALTER EGO AND DON’T REMEMBER IT once again, a masterstroke by Kokichi, Mr. ‘I reference YGO Duel Monsters without even trying’

Yeah, I’m not surprised to see Tsumugi chiming in here. She has been Gonta’s biggest defender from trial to trial, even if her voice isn’t as loud as Kaito’s. 8(

And my god, if Kaito’s voice ain’t loud right now!

HIMIKO DON’T YOU FUCKING SAY IT

A;SLDKFJ KOKICHI DON’T THINK YOU INTERRUPTING HERE SAVES YOU FROM ME SERIOUSLY JUDGING YOUR LIFE CHOICES

“YOU CAN’T JUST SPLIT THE SCREEN LIKE THAT WITHOUT A SWORD DUEL THAT’S NOT HOW THE MECHANIC WORKS!”

“- ANYWAY I was totally confessing guys, and on behalf of Gonta as well as myself! I can’t believe you would just interrupt me when I’m being so charitable! Waaaah, you’re all so meeeean ~ !” insert crocodile tears sprite here

I am here to interrupt this incredibly serious and terrifying confession with accompanying illustration to ask - why ‘Busters’?! What kind of dumb name is that, honestly.

Between this and your ‘if everyone dies, the game will end!’ comment, you’re really scaring me right now, Kokichi - !

Gonta is not about this at all.

Man, I’ve been making the D: face over and over again during this trial - meanwhile, Gonta right now is the living embodiment of that text emoji right now.

Oh.... oh, of course. Kokichi doesn’t know about the avatar error either, does he? He’s been operating under the assumption that Gonta has been... lying to us this whole time............ That he’s been a perfect liar, without a single crack in his veneer, even to a keen liar-spotting master like Kokichi, and that he’s been just as good at tricking us as him - even better, possibly. 

Oh, no. Oh, no.

Gonta’s strongest, most stalwart supporter of the whole game is back in the game!

TRAUMATIC BUZZING NOISE FLASHBACKS

Between all the back and forth, including a bit of gloating at Shuichi on Kokichi’s part, he drops this:

And here, to counter all of the ‘Gonta is too ~dumb~ to do something like this’ comments, he already has a ready-made argument. He really has been set from the beginning, huh? Either that or his improv ability is topnot - oh wait this is Kokichi Ouma we’re talking about, of course it is. Anyway, while I think Kokichi set Gonta up to do this, I feel like I’m at least affording Gonta a bit more agency than his classmates. 8′/

d-don’t.... neglect the heart...... nngh

erika furudo is being channelled by kokichi ouma to wreak havoc on this killing game, this truly is the worst timeline

FUCK PLEASE DON’T BRING UP GENTLEMEN THIS IS SO AWFUL I’M GOING TO D I E

and everyone else seems to be in the same state I am, minus the whole ‘I’m 99% sure it was Gonta’ mindset I had going in, so Kokichi asks them the obvious question:

Aaaah, I thought so. Kaito has been pushed far enough that he won’t accept anything other than Kokichi being the culprit. :(

Kokichi’s about to drop a massive truth bomb in the trial and Kaito is not going to like it.

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE KOKICHI NOW YOUR TROLL FACES ARE WARPING THE FABRIC OF REALITY ITSELF AROUND YOU PLEASE CONTROL YOUR TERRIFYING ULTIMATE POWER

I just really wanted to isolate this one shot from the debate especially because damn, just - the way they set it up for him and his sprite to dominate the whole screen by just - towering over everyone despite everyone being against him, despite everyone accusing him, is just some great work by the layout team!

Also the fact that they can contrast that with this image with all the flowers and sunshine around him, with that cute little smile on his face... man, I keep praising what they did with the trial debates for a reason!

And once again, it’s Kaito argument that Shuichi is forced to cut down...

All the pieces except for two - Gonta’s motive/reason he would work with Kokichi (because I thought it was maybe spur of the moment move on his part to protect Kokichi, but Kokichi is heavily implying it isn’t, and the fact that it was done via prepared item is.... a problem) and Gonta’s memory problems - are officially out in the open. Oooh geez - I had been wondering how they would do this case since to me, it didn’t seem technically difficult to figure out, but I guess the writers’ solution to that issue is to just gut-punch the players all the way to the end. 8′D

And now Kaito’s being countered by his other sidekick. Can we stop kicking this poor puppy while he’s down??? As in, the poor puppy who is probably dying a slow death from a mysterious illness right now??? Is this the game’s idea of karmic rebalancing for not outright deathflagging him again this chapter, or???

Because you’ve been baiting him this entire time.

So... was he going to let them fall for the lie of ‘Kokichi Ouma is the culprit who killed Miu’? That’s what I’m wondering right now. He’s very happily driving in the point that the one, singular truth can be incredibly painful, but this still seems very much to be a reaction to all the events of the trial leading up to this point!

Having Gonta beside Kaede’s stand, the other person who we thought, ‘No, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t possibly be....’ was probably planned from the very beginning for this trial, I imagine.

I-I MEAN IS THAT FAIR SINCE BUGS ARE DIRECTLY TIED TO HIS TALENT...

But of course, while the classmates are rallying around Gonta and Kaito...

Showing growth at the most unfortunate times, Shuichi Saihara uses his budding confidence to grow up up up and away from Kaito. 8′\

Look at him, inserting himself in between the two like this -

“SHUT UP KOKICHI YOU’RE RUINING OUR BROSHIP - W-WE CAN STILL BE BROS AFTER THIS, RIGHT KAITO???

Kaito directly after the trial but actually no please let the saimota stay strong you must overcome....

On the one hand I feel like Kokichi is being heavy-handed - on the other, I’m starting to think that he feels the need to over-explain everything to his classmates because they just won’t get it otherwise. 8′D

I don’t feel like this is 100% fair though - he did a really great job with finding the door in Chapter 1! He, uh, did completely lose his mojo though, so...

Well, the point is, Kaito did need to teach him how to trust in other people because Kaede broke it by lying to him! Shuichi has been a naturally suspicious worrywart this whole time!

HIS VOICE IS BREAKING I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS

SHUICHI CAN’T EITHER

FUCK I THOUGHT DOING HIS FTES WOULD HELP ME THROUGH THIS BUT IT MADE EVERYTHING SO MUCH WORSE

Oh shit, this was a surprise bit of support that I wasn’t expecting! How shocked do you think Kokichi is right now that K1-b0 of all people is not completely disbelieving him, on a scale of 1-10??

If I make a comment about how computer-like this is would I get slammed for being robophobic or -

I mean Kaito’s technically not wrong? But he’s not completely right either... I, I really think Kokichi is trying to kill two birds with one stone here. 8′/ But to what end, is the real question... Disillusionment? Is that the ultimate goal?

MONOKUMA YOU’RE BRO-BLOCKING ME!!!

unholy screeching -

Kaito sounds so betrayed -

“Hold on Monokuma, I thought this was only supposed to happen in the event of an even split -”

“Shut the fuck up Shuichi Is2g I’ll crazy glue your hat back on!”

THIS IS AN INCREDIBLY UNLIKELY TEAM and also a popular OT3, I imagine with an incredibly complicated name. like. how do you combine saiouma and, uh... kiibouma I’m guessing - saikiibouma maybe???

also K1-b0 please don’t wave your Objection! finger in Gonta’s face like that, it is neither the time nor place and also incredibly rude and not helping -

I absolutely love (and by love I mean my heart is being wrenched In Twain) the way they have Shuichi facing in one direction, and Kaito fully, completely turned the other way.

Once again Shuichi is learning how to defend himself, and is finally willing to do it. I... just wish it would be under better circumstances...

Actually, out of pure luck, it lines up really well with Kaito’s last FTE and the option I chose where Shuichi bites back about his detective work. It’s funny how in the end, his natural reaction is still to search for the truth at all costs, and I like reading him as someone who is naturally curious as well as singularly focused that way, sometimes to the detriment of everything else - and come hell, high water or, regrettably, casualties. And he’ll certainly have those regrets, and fret on them endlessly as he loses himself in a spiralling circle of self-doubt, but would he be able to stop himself from following that path down to the bitter end? No... no, I don’t think so.

Should I include every cap of Gonta pleading with everyone that he isn’t the culprit? No, it’s redundant. Will I anyway because he’s tearing my heart to pieces? Yes. Yes I will.

asldkf;asdf the worst thing is he isn’t. He isn’t lying. He paradoxically is the killer and not lying about it, because not being the killer is his current truth AS HE KNOWS IT...

Y-You sound like you’re talking from personal experience, and outside of the last few trials, too! Which side of this ‘cornering’ were you on exactly...????

Oh!!! We haven’t seen this sprite in a long time!

Is it just me or is Kokichi acting extremely viciously right now? Like, his vitriol levels are off the charts. Honestly I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt this part with commentary because the way Kokichi is going off, just absolutely screaming at him, is a huge departure from the cool and collected Ouma we’ve had up to this point!

Did they... prepare arguments beforehand, maybe? And he’s losing it because Gonta isn’t playing along with the plan he said up? With that said, when Gonta turned on Kokichi in the Meet-n-Greet, Kokichi wasn’t anything like this. So what’s his deal???

Kokichi Ouma will not rest until he has flipped every single aspect of this trial and the trial format as it’s been up to this point on its head, and subsequently, used it to attack everyone around him. 

Holy shit, Kokichi has well and truly lost it. This - this has to be real. It’s far too raw for it not to be real.

Ugh, the way Kaito’s voice cracks when he jumps in here...

KAITO......................

I... feel like, despite flickerings of his ‘playful’ persona, this may be the longest he’s ever gone showing his genuine feelings - and man, they aren’t pretty. I mean, that’s assuming this anger is genuine... but I really, really feel like it is.

Just like another character I love who also uses lies and fantasy as weapons, I feel like going over this section again with new eyes will be extremely telling.

Still, that means he really, really wants to live. And the ‘we’ there is interesting. Who is the ‘we’? Is he speaking for a select few, including Shuichi? For the whole class? Someone not here, in a similar vein to Kirumi?

you know Kokichi for someone who wants to live, maybe screaming at someone whose good friend is an assassin is a bad idea

You know everyone fighting over him is eating Gonta from the inside out.

Ah, fuck, I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop and I think this is when it’s going to happen.

I’m like 99% sure Kokichi’s on Tsumugi’s hit list for next chapter. 8′D 

Oooh, speaking of growth - !

You know, I keep saying this and I don’t know if I’m alone in thinking this or not but Shuichi has been consistently weak in all things social and emotional, detection-wise and otherwise. But now, here, we finally have Shuichi picking up on the true source of Gonta’s confusion on his own, his language, and how it could be relevant to the case on his own without anyone else giving him any clues or hints!

The one who has consistently stood up for Gonta in every trial, Kaito, the one who wants to believe in everyone, and Gonta himself... aaaaah, no, no no..... 8′/

KAITO WHAT IS THAT NEW SPRITE

OH GOD NO THAT’S SUCH A SAD SPRITE SDLKFJ

OMFG HIMIKO ARE YOU SERIOUSLY WHY ALL OF THIS HAPPENED

ALSO... oh, that’s right. Gonta lifted up the manhole cover at the beginning of the game with his lefthand, didn’t he? SHIT....

His sprites and tones of voice are oscillating so wildly now and it’s really hard for me to keep up??? I’m getting whiplash asdlfkj

THAT. THAT IS THE ONE PART THAT I AM WAITING FOR. I thought it was in defense of Kokichi because that is the only way I can feasibly see him killing someone and still be, well, the Gonta Gokuhara who wants to protect everyone, but there is too much of this murder that seems premeditated!!!

So we’ve established this in previous games via Celes’ and Peko’s trials, but it’s worth going over again - especially since these guys have no knowledge of either of those games -

Yeah... we’re really going to need a motive from Kokichi. Could it be as simple as countering Miu’s plan? I suppose taking her out as an obvious threat makes sense, and he’s already established that he wants to live ... There’s also the question of if it can really be something like, ‘he also wanted to use this as a way to create a fun mystery.’ I really hope not. 8′\ I suppose something like, ‘I’m taking opportunity of the fact that I’m getting rid of a threat on my life to also drive home certain points to the rest of my classmates, and also as revenge for the events of the last few days’ would be more of an acceptable answer to me, given what I’ve seen of him so far. With that said, that... is not a great way to survive, considering the target being painted in broader strokes on your back each passing minute...

DON’T LOOK AT ME, SWEETCHEEKS!!

don’t neGLECT THE HEART, DAMN IT

Jeez, maybe he really does see the rest of them as chess pieces... and Shuichi as a knight that can move in abstract, highly unpredictable ways. 8/ Either that or he’s thinking he can keep tightlipped on the motive since Gonta no longer knows it?

Looks directly at Shuichi - winks - blows kiss - “Hey you know what would be a great first date idea? Setting up a tragic murder via patsy that will rock your worldview, potentially break you apart from one of your only friends in this wretched place and ultimately send everyone spiralling into despair.”

“W-Where did you learn how to pick up people?”

“Oh, some book I found in the library called ‘Enoshima’s Guide to Love for the Hopelessly Loveless’, why?”

“KAEDE.AGAIN, WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME IN THIS SPOT. I DIDN’T WANT TO BE THE PROTAGONIST. SOMEONE, PLEASE SEND HELP.”

Sadly, Kaito is all bluster at this point... oTL

I have a feeling this is going to end up looking a lot like my reasoning...

He goes down the list so clinically. It’s one thing for me, an outsider, to be able to do that (and just barely, because I was SAD about the conclusion I came to, damn it), but for someone in the game to be able to do it... yikes....

“There is no amount of incest roleplay fantasy dreams that’ll make up for the shitshow that is today.”

“He’s making me be the one to say it, isn’t he. Sonuvabitch.”

well fuck you too

no no no no no no no he’s CRYING HE’S AUDIBLY CRYING THIS IS 50 SHADES OF NOT OKAY

He’s straight-up challenging Shuichi to be the one to pull the trigger (absolutely pun intended).

IF.... IF ONLY IT WERE SO EASY, KAITO....

“If I just choose myself THIS HELL WILL BE OVER.”

“Bro I will fucking deck you.”

What if I just

turned

the game off

right now

just let this game board sit open, here, for all of eternity

that would be okay right

[bba-sae]

Long Ass Nights

Pairing: Mark/Reader

Genre: College!AU + Fluff

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: What’s a college party without a drunk fool?  Mark wouldn’t know.

Author’s note: See what I did there? :D @stoppcy sent me a funny ass joke so I gotta dish out the goods yeah? Still open to hear more jokes and possibly write more imagines. So send them my way!!

Mark knocks on your door at 10:30. Exactly when he said he would in his text, and his snapchat, and his twitter DM, and the three-second facetime call you hang up on. It still doesn’t change the fact that you attempt to close the door in his face when he greets you. 

“For the love of God woman, why must you kill this night,” Mark asks as he pushes against your body through the door. You fight back full force, but you lose strength in a few seconds. You’re a freshman in college with a killer meal plan, it wasn’t like the gym was your first priority. 

“Stop trying to dirty my purity with your disgusting party things.” You say with a winded breath. Suddenly you are pushed to the floor due to Marks sudden push when you were distracted speaking. You glare at him as you cross your legs, not too interested in making an effort to get up. Mark sends you the same giddy smiles he always does and he makes a dive for your bed. 

“Your purity? Who are you even? You are the epitome of sin. Don’t lie in the face of God.” You get up fro your spot, finding a spot on your own bed to sit with him. He grabs your wrist and lifts it as if it actually obscures your body when he takes the time to scan your outfit. “This doesn’t look like a party outfit.”

You throw your wrist onto him, earning a quiet “ow” from his side. You roll your eyes, your gaze landing on your cluttered closet. A pretty ensemble hung neatly in contrast to the chaos behind it, giving away the fact that you had actually pondered going with him. But Mark is Mark, he would never notice.

“Just put on that outfit that’s hanging outside your closet. “ Mark says without looking at you and your lips part in surprise. A devious smile plays onto his lips along with his telling eyes that turn to you. “You aren’t sly.” He teases and you grudgingly get off your bed to sit at your desk.

“I’m busy.” You mumble, lifting a pencil, realizing that was the only motif of productivity that lay on your desk. You frantically grab a post-it note, pretending to feign business. 

“School just started. It is literally our second week of Freshman year. You ain’t got shit.”

You sigh, head falling onto your desk in defeat, “why must I go with you to this dumb party?” 

Mark gets up from the bed, walking behind you to place two hands on your shoulders. He shakes your body jokingly, moving you back and forth in your roller chair. 

“Because I’m rushing for Nu Kappa Tau, and I’m weak and prone to conformity so without you, I might die.”  He makes a good point, you think. But you still cannot bring yourself to be around a bunch of dumb frat boys for your night. You’ve had your share of high school parties, and you’re not interested in upgrading. 

“The party thing isn’t for me, I’m not really into it.” With this response, Mark turns your seat around and kneels down to meet your eyes. His hands still rest on your shoulder and his face means business.

“I will buy you food for a week if you go with me tonight.” 

You ponder his offer for a moment. Dining hall food is nice, but there were too many good restaurants on campus to pass it up. You take a deep breath and nod before Mark shoots up with an accomplished smile.

“So me dying means nothing to you, but food does. Alright, noted.” 

You shrug and stand from your spot, “Priorities, man.”

It takes longer than either of you would like to admit to get to the party. You spend 10 minutes convincing Mark to get out of your room while you change. But he insists that he’s known you long enough and it’s time to make the next milestone in your friendship. To which you retort that four months is hardly long enough, reminding him of the summer job you both hated and met at. He shudders at the thought of working for that hell hole of an amusement park. 

Once you finally exit your dorm, dolled up and all the works, Mark looks at you with a smile and hums a quiet “pretty” to himself that he hopes you don’t hear. Yet you do, and you can’t help but feel the slightest part of you actually light up with contentment. Did you actually just swoon for Mark Lee? Hell no. 

When you arrive, Mark exchanges his usual fist bumps and platonic ass slapping with his “bros” and you squint your eyes in disgust. One boy is adorned with an oversized jacket that dawns the letters NKT on the back. He sends a nod to Mark and catches a glimpse of you, sending Mark a thumbs up. You scoff and look to Mark who is disgustingly bobbing his head in agreement. You hit his arm and he immediately stops. The boy walks closer to the two of you.

“What’s up Mark? I knew I could count on you coming through tonight. House rules; you break it you pay for it, if you get too lit go to the fucking bathroom, and if the cops come, you’re underage so you don’t know us, we don’t know you. Got it?” He holds out a fist for Mark to bump and Mark let’s out a laugh. A peculiar sound really, more like a less forceful grunt to efficiently exude is “bro-ness.” The boy looks at you and smiles. “You a friend of Mark’s? I’m Johnny.” 

It surprises you how his frat boy-esque aura dissipates in the slightest form, and you figure if you met him under different circumstances, you might actually like him. You decorate yourself with the fakest smile, trying to hide the fact that you don’t care all that much for being here. It’s been a hot second, but you’ve already sorted out the people you want to talk to and the people you don’t. So far Mark and Johnny are the only ones who fall into the former category.

“I’m not Mark’s friend.” You answer with the sweetest smile, not sparing a single glance to Mark who looks at you offended. 

Mark awkwardly laughs, pushing your shoulder with a little too much force that your step falters, “No free food if you’re going to be mean.” His voice is patronizing and you know he overdoes it to tease you more. 

You rub the spot he pushes with a pout, “That vaguely sounds like you’re a dog trainer, I feel violated.”

He leans in closer, pockets stuffed with his hands and a devious smile hints on his expression. When he speaks, you can tell it’s meant to be a whisper, but it’s the kind that’s loud and obvious for the boy standing across,“Well you’re acting a lot like a bitch right now so I guess it’s fitting.” You part your lips, offended, readying your hands to punch him in the gut.

But Johnny coughs and interrupts your possible chance of getting arrested tonight. You wonder if that was on purpose. “Um so yeah, you guys been to a party yet this semester?” 

You both shake your head no, you a little less enthused than Mark. 

“Nah man, first college party. Hers too.” 

To this, Johnny smiles mischievously clapping his hands together as if prepping you for the night, “Dope, glad it’s NKT then. It’s your first college party, so have fun, get drunk, get laid alright?” He slaps a hand on Mark’s shoulder sending him a wink.

Mark side-eyes you as Johnny speaks, awaiting a reaction. You turn to him in disdain, a serious glare on your face. 

“If you leave my ass to get banged by some college ass I will drown you in the closest river, you frog.” Mark’s eyebrows raise and eyes widen as he struck my the slightest bit of fear that you might actually keep your word. He’s only known you for four months, but he knows he shouldn’t leave out any possibilities.

Johnny snaps his fingers and points back and forth between the two of you, “Oh shit, I didn’t know you two were a thing.” 

“We’re not. She’s just clingy, but she has a better meal plan than me so it’s not like I can do or say anything about it.” Mark says casually and you nod in approval for his remark. Johnny nods curiously to wave off the clear emotions going on between the two of you, one-sided or not.  He decides he should let you guys figure your shit out yourselves.

“Okay, okay. Well if it’s not a big deal then, I’m gonna have to steal Mark for a hot second. Go have fun y/n, there’s a lot to do.” You reach out for Mark thoughtlessly while he is suddenly pulled away by the arm. Yet Mark doesn’t really fight back, probably knowing that this was where the night was going. 

In mere seconds he’s pulled into the house and you can’t discern exactly where the trail goes as you lose sight of them when another tall boy stands in front of you. He’s tall, sweaty, and reeking very much of weed. 

He begins, a greasy smile, matching his greasy face, “Look, I’m no cop, but I think it’s a little illegal to look that good at a part-”

“No” is all you say before walking into the house to grab yourself a drink. 

More time passes and yet no sign of Mark has appeared. You spend your time sitting on the kitchen counter, sitting on the couch, and sitting on a lawn chair in the backyard. You’ve become acquainted with a few brothers, all not as douchey as you perceived them to be, but then again, you never saw Mark as the type either.

One of the boys, a third-year named Jaehyun, you recognize as the star basketball player and honestly, you wouldn’t have guessed otherwise. You’ve heard his name, seen his face, and watched his games on multiple occasions. In fact, almost all the boys in NKT never needed an introduction, all of them had something going on for them.

 Jaehyun gives you a dopey smile and the vibes of your usual boy next door when you see him up close, “First-year?” Is all he says when he walks into the kitchen to see you sipping your drinking without the least bit of urgency. You nod with a laugh and a shrug.

“Is it obvious?”

He shakes his head aggressively, almost spilling his drink when he waves his hands, “no it’s not that you look like one. It’s just that I haven’t seen you around, so I figured.”

“And you know everyone that comes to these parties?” You ask and take another sip of your drink. The alcohol stings your throat, but you haven’t nearly had enough to affect you. In fact, you’ve been nursing this drink for some time, not invested in losing control.

He shrugs and stands by the spot where you sit. His elbows support his weight on the counter as he leans back and looks up at you. 

“I’d remember you, that’s for sure.” He tilts his head toward you and sends you a look that is absolutely swoon-worthy and you cannot help but feel incredibly susceptible to his advances. You answer with a roll of your eyes to feign disinterest and prolonged hum before speaking.

“Does that work on all the girls?” You asked, trying to seem far less impressed than you actually were. Maybe it was his prince charming-esque attitude, a miracle boy in the sea of faces you don’t care to remember. Maybe it was the fact that he was Jung Jaehyun, dreamy upperclassmen with a few Basketball Championships under his belt. Point is, Jaehyun lived up to his name, probably far surpassing the praises. 

“Hmm, I’ll have to ask all the girls I’ve tried it on.” He says as he places a hand on his chin in thought as if trying to bring forth a complete list of names. A few seconds past and he turns back to you, “Did it work?”

You laugh at his effort, nodding your head to satisfy him and he laughs. The two of you talk more, about your classes, what he’s heard about your department, and if he would show you how to play basketball. The conversation goes seamlessly, and for a second you forget why you even came to this party in the first place, that was until your “why” comes fumbling into the kitchen. 

Mark’s got a red solo cup in his hand, probably empty from spilling it all over himself, and he reeks of too many substances he’s underage for. He spots you like a hawk searching for prey and is soon stumbling over to you. He grabs your hand and pulls you off the counter before sending Jaehyun an apologetic smile. Jaehyun laughs and slaps his hand against Mark’s shoulder like a proud father.

“You’ve got to see what I just did y/n” Mark slurs with a hiccup to end his sentence. He leans into you, his body warm and heavy. “I just did a backflip.”

You squint your eyes in disbelief, “Bet. You did not.”

“He didn’t, I was watching.” Another boy says as he trails behind him. He’s more composed, like most of the upperclassmen brothers and his features challenge the golden boy Jaehyun right next to you. The boy places a hand on Mark's shoulder to pull him away from you, the other on holding a cold beer. “Lil’ Markie her just jumped off the top of the stairs screaming ‘I am absolutely fully capable’ and ran straight here right after.”

Mark frowns and looks up at the dashingly handsome boy, “Yuta you’re making me look bad in front of my friend c’mon.” Yuta rolls his eyes and lightly pushes him. 

“Oh, your friend? This is the friend?” He looks at you with a knowing glance and leans down to meet your eyes, “Hey there y/n, you look grea-” 

Before Yuta finishes his sentence he is aggressively pushed away by your sloppy friend, causing Yuta’s drink to splatter on the both of you. You look down are your outfit, now starting to smell a little too much like Mark’s breath and your glare shoots up to meet Mark’s gaze. Jaehyun stifles a laugh and shakes his head, walking over to Yuta. He slings an arm around his shoulder and grabs the beer out of his hand.

“Ssstop hiiitting on herrr” Mark pleads and the boys both laugh before being distracting by the rest of brothers loud calls of their names. Jaehyun salutes you with a sweet smile before walking off.

“Hit me up sometime y/n, you can help me practice sometime.” All you can do is smile giddily at his offer while Mark looks at you in complete disgust. The second Jaehyun is no longer in your sights, you slowly turn to Mark, who’s playing with he sleeve of your sweater. When he looks at you, he looks like a lost puppy and a piece of you wants to have sympathy. You decide you’ll punch him when he’s sober.

A goofy grin is painted on Mark’s face though his eyes clearly struggle to focus on you. He sends you a cute “Hi” with an even cuter wave and it takes every piece of your will to not want to coddle him like a baby and take him home for the night. You sigh, scanning him up down, really getting a feel for the situation that stood before you.

Mark was never the most collected person. You noticed this when you worked with him, and he would often fumble with his words trying to talk to guest, or even worst, fumble in his step only to fall face first on the floor of the gift shop. Mark was a bit of a spazz, and it only gets worst when he’s drunk, you realize.  

You shift your weight to a hip, preparing to lecture your friend like a disappointed mother, “I lose you for what? An hour? and you’re already crossed. Who raised you?”

But Mark doesn’t show the slightest bit of regret, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you. His eyes are affectionate, so much so that you could feel it slap you in the face. He leans into your space more to speak, “Go on a date with me.” He requests, and you felt a piece of you twist deep down. His words signaled a sudden burst of warmth to shoot through you as if it’s something you were waiting for but hadn’t quite realized you wanted. 

Yet you shake off the butterflies and groan in disgust, “Ugh, so you’re this kind of drunk.” You attempt to walk away, but Mark grabs your hand and you feel as if your stomach might explode. When he turns you to him, he places a hand on your face, thumb rubbing your cheek gently. His eyes scan your expression and for a second you don’t know how terribly intoxicated he is. For a second you forget that you want to punch him in the gut. For a second you’re actually glad he dragged you to this dumb party. 

That is until his face turns pale and a look of horror is painted on both of your faces. Mark's eyes swing indecisively between your face, your dress, and your shoes, and he opts to bend down and release the contents of his stomach onto your discount shoes.You pat his back sympathetically and sigh. At least he had the decency to not aim for your face.  A charmer, he is.

When you wake up in the morning, with Mark rudely taking up most of your tiny bed, you’re angry. Mark can tell when he wakes up from the way you slam your poor makeup utensils on your desk. That and the fact you woke him up with a punch to his gut and an “I’m seriously so fucking pissed at you, you jerk.”

Mark was ever so the intuitive type

He rubs his head, the excruciating ringing in his head feeling more intense when he gets up. He looks at your morning state, naturally alluring and equally frustrating just like remembers. He still wears his clothes from last night, the stench from last night overwhelmingly awful. He reaches for his phone, only to realized it’s shattered and dawns twenty text messages from different numbers. One from his ex and they didn’t seem too happy about his several audio calls. 

Mark still swears he’s a heavyweight.

“And yet you still look as ethereal as ever after a night of partying,” Mark says with a shameless smile and a cute laugh and you try your very best to wave off his comment. You’re still trying to decipher how you felt about his gestures toward you, but at the moment, you’re also still thinking about your $9 shoes that you have yet to figure out how to clean. 

“That’s because I’m not an idiot. Idiot.” You say with a glare and Mark holds his hand up defensively.

“Hey, I was just living the college life. It’s all part of the process.” You stare at him for a moment, wondering if he as planning on addressing his attempt to breach your friendship line, but you figure that you knew him better than that. Mark was a lot of things, but a confronter he was not.

“Last time I checked, attempting backflips and shamelessly hitting on girls is a little too far don’t you think?” You answer, wondering just how many other girls he got too close to. A piece of you didn’t want to know.

He laughs at your answer, “Girls? You mean girl.”

“I don’t know what you did in that hour I lost you.” You say plainly, “Do I even want to know really?” You fake a shudder and he looks at you disappointedly.

“Well I was with myself the whole night and I can tell you, there were no girls,” He quotes the last word before dropping his hands to his sides,” you’re the only girl I wanted to hit on.” You look at him confused and he sighs loudly before continuing, “Being drunk I have ten times the confidence to actually look you in the eyes and tell you how crazy you make me. But no, you had to go off and be the absolute goddess you always were and fuck it up and make me nervous even with all of my sensibility gone. Can’t you be unappealing just once. For me?” 

The two of you look at each other for a moment, and neither of you knows what to say. This was it. This was what you were waiting for, and you finally let the butterflies in your stomach fly free. It was a feeling you don’t think anyone else could give, except for the dumb lightweight of a friend that looked at you like you were the sun and annoyed you at all hours of the day. Not even third-year basketball star Jaehyun that asked you to practice with him could replicate it. 

“I can see your still dellusional from last night huh?” You joke, trying to clear the air and Mark throws his hands in the air in frustration before laying back on his bed.

“For a scholarship kid, you are seriously so dense.” He says annoyed and you simply get up from your spot, grabbing your pack of gum from your bag. Once retrieved, you find a spot on your bed, laying on your side so your facing Mark’s hungover frame. You hand him a piece of gum with a sweet smile and Mark’s face lights up as he accepts the offer.

“Hit on me sober. You’re better at it.”

[isthemedia]

When I was a Villain

Chapter 1 NSFW

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3 NSFW

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 

(this was how I spent my Sunday...)

~~~~

                                                                                                       Chapter 5

What the hell was with that group of lunatics?! Why target kids!? What the absolute hell? Mic rushed through the streets. This was bullshit! Kidnapping!? He slid slightly as he rounded a corner, and that's when he heard it.

Muttering.

Some really...really intense muttering. The fuck? Cautiously he followed it. More villains? If so then he’d make sure they’d pay. Maybe blast out their eardrums...maybe knock them out? Get them to take him wherever the HELL these assholes were.

However as he drew closet--

“What the fuck!?”

He saw the group jump and look to  him.

H-holy shit. HOLY SHIT! This was not happening!? KIDS were NOT getting involved in this!

“I-it’s you,” one spoke.

Just what the hell was he wearing? Were those supposed to be some sort of disguises? Who honestly thought people dressed like that!? Suspenders and a bow tie!? Really?

“M-Mic?” okay what was up with the fake-ass goatee?!

--

Mic glanced back at the building, he knew the kids did as well.

“There’s no reaction even though we’ve gotten this close,” the girl said.

“The lights aren’t even on. It doesn’t look like anyone’s there,” the redhead added.

“Could you just shut up,” Mic growled. “We’re suspicious as hell right now, don’t go saying stuff out loud like that.”

“Hey, what’re ya doin’ hostess?”

Holy shit that made him jump. Dammit, keeping an eye on these kids is making him more on edge.

“Come drink with us,” one of the flushed, clearly drunk men urged. Jeez he reeked.

“Stop it idiot,” the other laughed as he slapped the back of the head of the other.

“Th-there’s a lady with a huge rack!”

“SHUT UP!” And before he realized it he punched the one that was making moves of the fucking 15 YEAR OLD GIRL! “Oh shit!”

“Let’s get away from here now,” the kid in the bad wig suggested.

--

“Shit, my bad,” Mic sighed as they moved to another area.

“I ah...th-thank you,” Yaoyorozu blushed.

“Yaoyorozu-san, are you alright?” Midoriya asked, still a bit shaken up from the sudden encounter, but felt himself smile when she nodded.

“There aren’t many people out but there are still some,” Todoroki stated.

“We...shouldn’t do anything to draw attention,” the creation user added.

“Mic-san, it was incredibly dangerous what you just did,” Tenya hissed.

“Oi oi, don’t get started,” The blonde began. “Sorry, body I’m not gonna let some asshole just hit on a minor as I’m just standing there.”

“We need to get back on track,” Kirishima insisted.

“What should we do?” Yaoyorozu asked.  

Midoriya glanced over. “Let’s try around to the back. This is all we got. We need to look into it further,” he explained and looked to the villain. “M-Mic-san, a-are you--”

“If you brats are this adamant, then yeah,” he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You five are well in over your heads, what kind of adult would I be if I just left you now?”

--

“It’s...so narrow. I’m afraid I’ll get stuck.”

“You’re not going to get stuck,” the blonde assured her. “I gotten through tighter places. This is nothing.”

Mic felt a little at ease when he saw the girl look to him and relaxed a bit as they moved on. ‘Keep them calm. Keep them calm,’ was his mantra.  

“Ah, we should be able to see inside at that height,” the green haired boy said.

Mic glanced up. They should, hell if he could get to the ledge he could pull himself up and look in too.

“Will we be able to see anything in this darkness?”

“Todoroki-kun I can make a night vision scope--”

“Wait Yaoyorozu,” the redhead cut her off. “I...I actually brought one with me.”

Holy shit, these kids...knew what they were going to do from the start.

“Alright,” the boy in the bad wig started. “Midoriya and Kirishima look through it. Iida and I will carry you on our shoulders.”

“Oi creation girl did you want a look in?”

“Ah…” she hesitated but nodded. “I-if you think that would be good, Todoroki-kun?”

The boy looked over and nodded. As the boys struggled to climb one another Mic crouched down as the girl climbed onto his shoulders.

“You good?”

She nodded.

“Alright, I’m going to grab onto your legs to keep them stable, are you alright with that?”

“I..ah...y-yes. T-thank you for asking.”

He carefully stood up, as the boys finished getting up as well.

“Kirishima, what’s inside?” he finally figured out that was the glasses kid who was in that get up.

The girl created he own scope and looked in as well.

“It’s pretty dirty,” she stated.

“Way dirty,” the redhead agreed. “I really don’t see anythin--” The the redhead froze and jerked back, almost losing his balance.

“Oi, what is it?” Mic hissed.

“In the back--Mi-Midoriya, Yaoyorozu look in the back,” the redhead urged as he handed the other boy the scope.

The girl gasped, and he tightened his hold on her so she didn’t fall.  

“N-no way...are those….Nomus?!”

Nomus? Mic’s eyes widen. That-that was what Shigaraki called that THING that took out Eraser. Oh shit they were in deep now.

Wait what was that?

They all looked to see something lift a car and--

“SHIT!” He held onto the girl as the wind from the stomp swept through the little passageway. The gust blowing away part of the kids’ disguises.

“No way, the heroes were moving way before we were,” the glasses kid said as Mic helped the girl get down from his shoulders.

“Yeah yeah all well and good. Looks like I should bounce,” the blonde huffed. “You brats are all crazy, ya know that? Fucking insane.”

“We should fall back as well, let the heroes take it from here.”

“I agree with Iida-kun,” the girl said. “And if All Might is there, then there’s even more reason to rest easy.”

Mic chuckled as he and the kids started to head out--

That was, until they heard footsteps.

And a voice, that sent a chill up all their spines.  

--

He took a steadying breathe. Shit this guy...holy fuck this guy!

He glanced over. Holy fuck these kids were so close to losing it. Swallowing some and said quietly, and soothingly as he could. “Stay calm…”

Midoriya’s head jerked up and looked over the the blonde. H-he almost forgot he was here. H-his voice…

“We’re not out yet. Don’t panic, not yet at least.”

H-he knew the villain could yell and scream and have it be devastating, but this? This was...unreal. His tone, his pitch, just washed over them. It-it almost felt comforting--

Then there was a sudden burst of sound that reminded him of splashing of water.

“Dammit,” a voice coughed. “What the hell?!”

‘Kaachan!’

Right...they-they had to get Kaachan. They had to get him. They had to save him! They had to-had to--

He jumped when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Breathe kid,” Mic urged. There had to be a way...a way to get out. To get them out. He saw the glasses kid and the girl holding onto the other two. They were trembling. Fuck what could he even do!?

“Ah, so you came after all.”

Mic felt as if all his organs froze. D-did he--did he know they were--!? He dared to take a look over the wall that hid them. Just in time to see All Might, diving down right at the man in the mask.

“I’ll have you return everything! All For One!” the hero declared.

“Will you kill me again, All Might?” the other taunted.

Shit shit shit! They needed a plan! HE need one! He needed to get these kids the fuck out of here! This was no joke! Hell this isn’t even close to the fucking USJ shit! He HAD to be the one to do something! Because these kids…

These kids…

They can’t fight.

He heard a gasp.

“Iida-kun. Everyone!”

“You can’t Midoriya-kun!”

“He’s right kid, you aren’t--”

“No I...there’s a way,” the green haired kid started. “A way that won’t involve us fighting that will let us leave this place, but still save Kacchan.”

“Are you serious?” Mic asked.

“Let’s hear it,” the half-and-half boy said.

--

Holy fuck! He couldn’t help the laugh that left him. HOLY FUCK! That kid! THAT FUCKING KID! He was grinning, he knows he was.

It worked. That plan of his worked! HOLY SHIT!

“Just as we thought, all eyes on them,” the half-and-half kid said.

“Ah, right..., you two go, ya got the ear plugs?” Mic looked over.

The girl nodded as she put them in. “Ah...Mic-san, are you sure you don’t want to--”

“Hey are you going to take my help or just ask question, get going!”

The two looked to him questioningly.

He sighed. “I’ll be fine, but you two need to get outta here. Worry about yourselves first. You shouldn’t be worrying over villain like me.”

He could see the girl about to reply, but she closed her mouth and just nodded before she and the boy ran off. These kids...damn, he hoped he was done and gone as a villain by the time these kids became pros or else he’d be in real trouble.  

Alight, now his turn. He rushed out, just as Mange used her Quirk and launched Mr. Compress up. SHIT! Since when could she do that!?

"Titan Cliff!"

"What!?" Spinner gawked.

Mic chuckled and tapped the lizard man's shoulder. He turned around--"YOU LOSE!"

Normally he didn't like using his Quirk at such close range, but fuck it, He was pissed.

"We can still catch the--" Magne's words were gut short as a blur of yell knocking him and Double down.

Gran Torino? Holy shit! THE Gran Torino! Thiiiis might be bad for him...but damn.

“Hmm? Blonde hair? And weird sunglasses?” The older hero noted.

“Hey they’re not weird, their fashionable,” Mic argued. Shit, he knew of him. So yeah, this was really REALLY bad for him.

“You’re that weird villain...aren’t you?”

“Weird...villain?”

“The one who helped out before? That’s you isn’t it?”

“I guess?”

“Well...you better be ready to help out again,” Gran Torino insisted.

“Hey as long as the kids are safe, and I’m not going out in handcuffs, sure, why not?”

--

The coward! The Fucking Coward!

“I won’t let you escape!” Torino yelled, and was smacked away.

Shit! Mic turned on his heel and jumped, catching the older hero. “I gotcha!”

“Warping.”

“Oh fuck that!” Mic yelled as the older hero was taken out of his arms.

“Detroit Smash!”

--

W-was he seeing this right?! Mic ran over to the two heroes. All Might, was...bleeding? When did he get hit? “Oi oi, old man Torino, can ya hear me? Oi!”

The older hero groaned as he slowly pushed himself up. Oh thank fuck he was alive.

“Toshinori...you’re, at your limit.”

“Limit?” Mic repeated.

He looked over to him. “Get going. This isn’t safe for you.”

“Hey you told me too--”

“Things change! Now get going!” Gran Torino demanded.

“Tch, fine, lemme get you up at least,” Mic grumbled as he helped the older hero up.

“You certainly are a weird villain...you sure you don’t want to be a hero?” Gran Torino asked.

“Hey, never thought about being one, since nobody ever call me one.”

“Heh, well they just might soon enough,” the older hero smirked. Mic’s eyes widened a bit.

Him? A hero?

No way. Just…

No fucking way.

“Now get going,” the older hero urged; and this time, he didn’t argue.

~~~~~~ A/N: Ya know, we all know the insane volumes Present Mic can reach. But what about the more soothing low tones he could do? Seriously, I see him being able to get his voice to the right frequency to quell a tense situation. 

[kristsune]

All 99 asks for NJ + does he get a happy ending to his story?

1. What do they smell like? He smells a bit like grease and that slight hot electric smell when dealing with a lot of electronics. There is also always an underlying scent of vanilla.

2. What is their voice like? He’s rather soft spoken and gentle, but there is a confidence there and steel behind his words when he needs there to be.

3. What is their biggest motivator? To protect his brothers, and end the war as soon as possible.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory? There was one time when Rex caught him in the middle of a dare from Hardcase.

5. How do they deal with/react to pain? He takes it and deals with it. His dizzy spells can turn into headaches and even migraines, but he refuses to tell the medics about them so he deals with them as best he can. But it means he has a pretty high tolerance.

6. What do they like to wear? He loves his flight suit, it’s comfy and it feels right. (in many modern aus he is an unintentional hipster.)

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively? Caliber is his best friend, she supports him so much. Kix and Jesse are practically dads to him, and protect him the best they can. Anomaly is extremely special to him, lifts him up like no other.

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten? NJ loves to try unusual foods when he can when planetside. And where he definitely respects other people’s cultures he is definitely not eating a Yalvik queen stinger again, no matter how much they are considered a delicacy.

9. Describe the way that they sleep. He tends to sleep curled up on his side, not taking up a lot of space. He sleeps in his cockpit as often as not, so scrunched up is normal.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food? He loves anything with flavor. Honestly just about anything is better than the flavorless, badly textured osik they had on Kamino.

11. What do they feel most insecure about? They aren’t terribly insecure about a lot, but they are shy, and many would take that as being insecure. That being said, he doesn’t love showing off his body in a public situation, being smaller and having unusual mutations for a clone, he tends to not want to make a show of himself.

12. How do they like to dress? Isn’t this super similar to 6? But he loves to wear soft comfortable clothes when he can.

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt? He carries it like a weight on his shoulders.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal? Someone close to him betraying him would cut him to the bone. When he trusts, its with his entire being. It would gut him to be betrayed)

15. What is their greatest achievement? One of the bigger ones was managing to tune his fighter enough to get it going faster than Anakin’s.

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep? It happens more often than not. He tends to just get more quiet and isolated, but when talking to him, you really wouldn’t be able to tell.

17. What are they like when they’re drunk? He doesn’t get much more than a pleasant buzz when he drinks, but when he gets there, it tends to be very giggly and happy.

18. What kind of music do they enjoy? He loves a variety of music, but anything uplifting with a happy edge, basically great flying music, is what he goes for.

19. Are they right or left handed? Ambidextrous.

20. Fears? Not being able to fly, losing those closest to him. The war never coming to an end.

21. Favorite kind of weather? Clear bright skies, perfect for flying

22. Favorite color? Blue, it waffles between 501st, sky blue, and the blue grey of Anomaly’s  eye.

23. Do they collect anything? Nothing in particular, but he does love picking up a stray feather here or there.

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more? Cold is always better for flying, though cool is better than straight up cold.

25. What is their eye color? Light golden amber

26. What is their race/ethnicity? Maori

27. Hair color? Dirty blonde

28. Are they happy where they are currently? They are able to fly, and protect his brothers and the people of the Republic. Would he prefer there to not be a war? Yes, but is this is as good as it gets)

29. Are they a morning person? Yes. He can sleep in if needed, but he can be up early too.

30. Sunrise or sunset? Answered here 

31. Are they more messy or more organized? He’s mostly organized, sometimes things will pile up and he has to take time to clean up, but it never really gets out of control

32. Pet peeves? Loud chewing, putting down others for no reason other than being mean

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance? Technically he doesn’t own it, but his fighter. He has modified it enough, he considers it his own.

34. Least favorite food? The flavorless protein meals on Kamino

35. Least favorite color? He loves all colors, but if he had to choose, it would probably be blood red, he’s just seen too much of it for his own liking.

36. Least favorite smell? Electrical fire

37. When was the last time they cried? Also found here

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried? Very likely with either Caliber or Jesse, they both are very good at comforting him when he is upset (the best hugs)

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured? Being a pilot, he actually hasn’t received too many injuries. Being shot down generally ended in explosions or being sucked into the vacuum of space, so minor injuries weren’t as common, though he has had his share of minor injuries as a cadet.

40. Do they have any scars? Nothing major to speak of.

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues? Many of the same that anyone who has been through a traumatic war has to deal with

42. Do they have any bad habits? He likes to forget to eat or drink enough, especially when in the hangarbay working on his fighter.

43. Why might someone dislike them? Because he’s a mutie, there are definitely clones that are biased against them, also because he is a pilot, and there are those that don’t think the pilots are real soldiers.

44. Why might someone love them? Because they are sweet and caring and wonderful. They are loyal and fierce and will fight for those he cares about.

45. Do they believe in ghosts? Yes, they are absolutely sensitive to all of that.

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives? Anomaly, Caliber, Kix, Jesse, much of the 501st tbh, at the very least all of Torrent.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone? Anomaly, and later Killer.

48. Are they dating/married to anyone? Anomaly, and later Killer

49. Do they like surprises? Happy surprises? Sure. Not happy surprises. No. not so much.

50. When is their birthday? N/A

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday? N/A

52. Do they have any family? He considers his closes vode his family

53. Are they close to their family? Extremely

54. What is their MBTI type? I am shit at this and i have no idea tbqh lol

55. What is their zodiac sign? N/A

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in? Hufflepuff most likely, maybe Ravenclaw.

57. What D&D alignment are they? Neutral good

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about? Crashing his fighter, losing his brothers/those closest to him. His brothers turning on all they believed in and killing those they loved best.

59. What are their views on death? It is just the next stage in whatever world they are in. though he would still like to stay alive as long as he can, to be with those he loves

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at? Caliber’s jokes, and Anomaly’s cheesy pickup lines he likes to tease him with.

61. When bored, how do they pass time? He loves working on anything mechanical. Tinkering is his favorite thing to do. Lacking that, he does love to read.

62. Do they enjoy being outside? Absolutely.

63. Do they have an accent? The same as most clones, New Zealand

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction? If he knows its for him, he will absolutely fall into that, if there is someone with him he would offer to share

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say? He would wish he could say goodbye to those he loves, and make sure his last act is saving as many brothers as he can

66. How do they feel about sex? He likes it, he likes to have fun with it, but really only has sex with those he has at least some sort of relationship/acquaintance with. He doesn’t really do casual sex.

67. What is their sexuality? Bi/Pan but heavily leaning towards masculine presenting

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood? No. He’s seen too much by this point

69. Is there anything that they find really gross? He hates wet hair in a clogged drain. Makes him gag. (honestly the biggest downside to his long hair)

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them? I am… honestly not sure how to answer this

71. Do they enjoy helping people? Absolutely, core to his being.

72. Are they allergic to anything? I have a feeling the Kaminoans probably tried to modify the clones to try and make sure that happens, but who knows. He hasn’t run into any problems so far

73. Do they have a pet? No. He wouldn’t feel good about keeping something he can’t be there for all the time.

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper? No. It takes quite a bit to get him there. But when he does? He is ruthless to make sure you know what you did and pay for it. (aka the fic i wrote Force of Gold)

75. How patient are they? Most of the time, he is pretty patient, but if something is giving him anxiety it shortens quickly

76. Are they good at cooking? He’s not bad, but he’s also not great. He can do super basics, like boil a pot of pasta (makes either way too much or not nearly enough) He can (mostly) not burn things.

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often? He isn’t big on insults. They absolutely have a place in his vocabulary, but you have to earn them from him, usually by being a dick.

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy? He smiles and laughs often. It’s absolutely infectious, and he just lights up from within

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears? If they were told to him in confidence, he would keep that secret to the grave.

80. Are they trustworthy? Very.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it? Yes and Mostly. Those that know him well can read him pretty well.

82. Do they exercise regularly? Yes, but nothing super intense.

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look? He can be self conscious about it, but he does love his mutations and the way he looks. He started to grow out his hair very early on because he loved it so much and it felt right.

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people? Long hair, lean muscle, beautiful eyes (especially mismatched ones)

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive? (Kind and caring, even if its hidden underneath.)

86. Do they like sweet foods? Yes, Not overly sweet, but he definitely likes them

87. What is their age? Excellent question that I do not have the answer for, he’s definitely a younger clone, deployed later in the war

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between? He’s a bit shorter and leaner like most pilots

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts? No

90. Do they consider themselves attractive? Yes, maybe not as much as others see him, but he can definitely see it.

91. What is their sense of humor like? All over the place, depending on his mood, but he loves jokes and silliness between friends.

92. What mood are they most often in? Focused, on his work or flying.

93. What kinds of things anger them? Bullies, people being nasty for no reason

94. Outlook on life? Generally pretty positive, though he does have his low moments.

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed? Losing brothers, the ongoing war

96. What is their greatest weakness? He trusts pretty easily, and can be led to believe things that he probably shouldn’t

97. What is the greatest strength? His abilities with mechanics and his fighter, an excellent pilot

98. Something that they regret? Not being able to save more of his brothers

99. Biggest accomplishment? Isn’t this basically 15?

100. Create your own! Nonnie asked: does he get a happy ending to his story: I mean? Yes? In the cyuane verse him and Anomaly get away and eventually join the rebellion, but they are alone. Sooo it or miss? He’s alive, and not completely alone, and they eventually find some level of happiness, but is it happy specifically not entirely.

[ahornedgod]

got drabble - (it’s us) against the world i

@zoetekohana asked: As we need more Jonsa, I'd like to request “Please talk to me.” If that's okay? ♡

yes, that’s ok! and i’m still taking prompts :)

a/n: if d&d can be selective with their canon, so can i. some spoilers for today’s episode (which i already watched - the one scene). vague spoilers. i’m taking lots of liberties here, but lol, i’m just following the show’s example! :D

this is unbeta’d btw. so, if you find any mistake, let me know, thanks!

in which Sansa comes to the rescue, once again.

i.

He knows before fully emerging from his unconscious state - he’s back in Winterfell.

Jon cares not for the how or the why, only that he’s back home; at last, he’s home, with Bran and Arya and Sansa—he tries to sit up, too fast, too soon, because then he’s hissing in pain and falling back onto the bed, wounds jumping in protest.

Someone slaps a wet cloth against his face, hard enough to shock but not to hurt.

“Keep still, Jon, I think you’ve had enough of trying hurt yourself for a time.”

His heart aches because – he knows that voice, he’s dreamed that voice, though always in a higher pitch and far brighter, even when upset there’d always been an undercurrent of… of…

Joy.

Slowly, he lifts a hand to remove the cloth from his face, a little smile tugging at his lips.

(And – he can’t blame her, can he? For failing to convey her happiness when he fails as well? Even though he is happy, so very happy, and he’s sure she feels the same.)

“Arya…”

Perched as she is, on the edge of his bed, she almost looks like she used to – back when things were still good, when they were whole and happy. Jon thinks he could close his eyes and see her bright, mischievous smile, her tangled hair and dirty dresses, unrestrained and wild.

She smiles back, genuine, and takes the cloth from him to fold it and place it over his forehead. “You’re so stupid.”

Her voice breaks and then she lunges at him, not caring about his injuries anymore – no, perhaps, she needs this hug as much as he does. So he’ll welcome it. Jon braces for the impact, bites down his grunt of pain, pushes it all aside and closes his arms tightly around Arya. Gods but he’d missed her, so, so terribly. His sister, his little sister.

She laughs, haltingly; his shoulder muffles the sound, where she hides her face from him. “Seven Hells, you’re a bloody idiot.”

He grins in response, drops a kiss on top of her head. “I missed you, too, little sister.”

Arya takes a deep breath before pulling away, her eyes bright with unshed tears, but Jon doesn’t bring attention to it, instead drags himself into a sitting position, slowly, until he resting against the headboard of the bed.

“How did you know?”

A loaded question. How did she—they—know. How did they know where to find him? How did they know what was going to happen? How did they get there in time?

“Bran.”

She says it like it should explain everything, and maybe it does; Jon can’t be sure, Sansa’s letter hadn’t been too clear on that front. But it matters not, as their brother chooses that moment to step into his chambers – impassive and nothing like the boy he remembers.

Suddenly, Jon can’t quite shake the feeling that things are about to take a sharp turn to the unknown, and most likely, it won’t be for the best.

“Arya, would you leave us for a moment? I need to speak with Jon, in private.”

*

For all he had kept Sansa in the back of his mind during his brief meeting with Arya, Bran brings her forth along with the reasons from her absence.

So, she’s angry - he can understand that. In fact, had he been in her place, Jon’s absolutely sure he would be angry as well; furious. He would be ranting and raging and stomping about and trying to extract promises from her to never do such a foolish thing again.

Knowing that, acknowledging it, doesn’t make her continuous absence any less painful.

She’s busy, he thinks, hours after Bran had retired to his own chambers, I left her in charge of Winterfell, of the North. She has many responsibilities now, of course, she can’t simply drop everything and…

Sansa cannot simply abandon her duties to tend to him, there is a Maester for that; he doesn’t know, having been away for so long, how hard it’s been that she can’t spare a moment to come by and check up on him.

There’s no time, he knows that, Sansa does her very best to keep the North prepared for what’s to come – Gods, but for all she fought him over the threat of the White Walkers, it seems she’s been doing everything in her power to make the people understand they needed to keep their focus further north.

Jon glares at his hands, fisted over the furs; stares at his whitened knuckles and the slight tremble.

He would have made time, though, for her—he would have spent the whole bloody time sitting at her bedside until she woke up, had she been in his place. Everything else could’ve waited, he—

That’s unfair. I’m being unfair to her.

And he is, he is. Bran had said, hadn’t he, how Sansa had wasted not another moment to rally a small force of men and sent them beyond The Wall to protect their King, to delay no more than the absolute necessary. She’d acted promptly and, Bran had said, had most likely prevented what could have been a catastrophe.

“The Night King would have gained control one of the dragons.”

Jon knows very well what that means.

He remembers little of the journey back to Winterfell; knows Uncle Benjen isn’t dead, that he had helped them cross The Wall while sparing as many lives as possible. Jon can barely swallow the thought, cannot fathom what possessed him to agree to such an idiotic mission.

“And then you would have made a terrible mistake, Jon, because you would think – there’s no other choice. But there is always a choice.”

He had wanted to ask, what mistake, what could he have possibly done that would be worse than lead a group of men to their deaths? But had refrained and allowed Bran to continue. Then things got confusing once Bran explained—tried to—how he knew. Confusing and, were it not for the fact he’s been face to face with both White Walkers and dragons, well… he would not have believed it.

Three-Eyed Raven. He’s still unsure of what that entails, knows only that it’s made his little brother a shell of what he used to be.

That breaks his heart.

“You should not be angry with Sansa for not being here when you woke up,” Brad had said, nearing the end of their conversation – or what he’d thought was the end of it, “Brienne and I sent her off to rest some. She did spend the past three days by your bedside, never leaving. We had to remind her of her duties to Winterfell and the North.”

Those words had eased something in him, had unwound the tension coiling his body, leaving him exhausted. Even now, as he lies there reflecting, deciding, Jon still feels them like a balm to his frayed emotions.

“Then why hasn’t she come by now?”

“It has been a few trying weeks, before we send the rescue party. Littlefinger managed to put a wedge between Sansa and Arya, manipulated Arya enough to propel her into… You should go talk to Sansa tomorrow, Jon, she needs comfort and I… am no longer equipped to provide it.”

As monotone as he’d sounded, Bran had looked – for a brief moment – truly regretful at his admission. His joy at seeing whatever emotion remains in Bran had been short lived. And, Jon thinks, his gut reaction before agreeing to this talk had been spot on.

Nothing about these revelations turned out to be for the best.

*

In the end he forgoes Bran’s advice of tomorrow.

Pulling on his breeches and boots, and adding his jerkin as an afterthought; Jon makes his way through the halls to Sansa’s chambers. His wounds pain him still, but as long as he moves carefully, he supposes nothing bad would happen. Halfway to his destination, he thinks maybe grabbing a cloak might have been a good idea – except he doesn’t remember seeing one in his chambers.

(Remembers the fur cloak Sansa made him, probably still sitting where he left it at Eastwatch.)

Brienne stands guard, unsurprisingly, and gives him an appraising look before nodding her head—Jon does wonders, though, if the Lady Knight ever rested—and takes a step aside.

“Your Grace.”

“She’s still awake?”

Brienne frowns, almost as in conflict with herself, and he finds his impression is spot on once she talks again. “She… hasn’t been resting well, and I don’t know how to help her,” there’s distress on her face, sharp and contrasting so very much with her stiff posture.

Jon rubs his face and nods at her. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She gives a firm nod, and knocks on the wooden door before he can think of it. For a second, he knows panic; what to say, when he sees her? Jon hasn’t exactly come up with a plan, expected to find her asleep and that he would return to his chambers in minutes.

He’s all prepared to voice his change of mind, when he hears her voice:

“Who is it?”

His heart skips a beat, then trips over several until it’s hammering against his ribcage.

“His Grace, my Lady.”

A pause; he holds his breath—

“Let him enter.”

—and lets it go.

Another firm nod; Brienne turns to face the hallways again. He takes that as his cue, and it’s almost funny how hesitant he feels but. But.

But.

Jon grins as he pushes the wooden door open, steps through, and turns to close it. He half expects her to find her glaring at him; the other half expects her to ignore him until he break the silence first. His smile must throw her off, for her eyes flicker away from the parchments she’s been perusing for a second to look at him, a glint of defiance, but then she does a double take and it takes everything in him not to break down laughing.

Or crying; strangely enough, Jon cannot dismiss that possibility quite yet.

“Is something amusing you, Your Grace?”

Ah, so that’s how it’ll be.

His grin falters and fades into a soft tilt of his mouth. “I just remembered – anything that comes before the word ‘but’ is horseshit.”

Sansa arches an eyebrow, confusing dancing in her eyes though her face remains devoid of emotions. Truly, she must be very tired to let her ask fall, if slightly. It’s not, of course, that she’s used her mask with him – ever since that day in the battlements, after the execution of Ramsay, they’ve been as honest as they allowed themselves to be. He more than she; Jon’s always been quick to forgive and forget and believe.

Not so much she, whose hardships made her near an impenetrable fortress. But Sansa, she’s been thawing towards him, slowly, since their reunion at Castle Black; the weeks leading up to his departure for Dragonstone made it plain to him, she no longer used her mask when they were alone. Her trust in him, in her safety, enough to let herself be completely honest about her opinions with him.

He shouldn’t be surprised she’s closed off again; shouldn’t feel hurt. If anything, he should feel ashamed, having failed her so spectacularly at being there for her when she needed—someone.

Perhaps, she was right to rebuff my promises of protection in the end.

Jon thinks of waiting a few moments before trying to break the silence, but again she surprises him by doing so herself.

“What is it you want, Jon, that is so important you couldn’t wait till morrow?”

“Where’s Ghost? He should be here, looking after you.”

A deflection, but he’s yet to think of a way to broach the subject he wished to discuss.

“Out in the woods, hunting,” and that explains Brienne. “Do not worry, he’s bound to arrive soon.”

The nonchalant way in which she says this, as if it were an everyday occurrence—a pattern she’s learned to predict, makes something tug at his heart. Both in joy and melancholy. He’s glad Ghost has at least managed to do what he’s been asked to. Glad his loyal companion had no qualms at being equally loyal to Sansa, but oh, so very sad because he’s missed him.

Inexplicably more than when they were separated that first time, beyond The Wall. Seeing Daenerys with her dragons had made him yearn for his direwolf, though Jon knows that, had he the chance to reconsider his decision to leave him behind, he would do it again.

Sansa’s safety still comes above anything.

“He was good, Ghost, a most reassuring presence,” she says, after a beat. “I admit it was amusing to watch some of the most vexing Lords take a step back when Ghost would sit beside me during Council meetings.”

It is almost as if she wished to smile, but wouldn’t allow herself such luxury. And while not his main purpose for having seek her out, Jon finds it hard to care; if he manages to pull a smile from her, he’ll count it as a victory.

“Truly? You took him to all those meetings?”

“Not all. I did not wish to bore him; some.”

“The ones with these vexing Lords?”

And, there; her smile, small and fleeting but there nonetheless, and he smiles in response.

“Only those.”

He suddenly shifts, from one foot to the other; she’s not inviting him to sit so he won’t, understands it won’t be easy. He doesn’t expect it to be. And as Sansa finally turns back to the parchments in her hands, it’s clear he’ll have to keep the conversation rolling.

“What happened to Littlefinger?”

Impossible it is, this notion, but he feels as if all the warmth of the rooms vanishes once the words hang between them; Sansa freezes, doesn’t look up, but every line of her body is pulled tight

Her voice, when she speaks, is pleasant but so very empty. “Do not concern yourself over such matters, Your Grace; he’s of no consequence now.”

“What happened?” He tries to instil authority in his voice, but seeing her shaking hands very nearly brings him to his knees. “Sansa…”

“Leave it,” she snaps, closing her eyes.

Gods he should. He should beg her to find some rest and excuse himself, go back to his chambers and wait instead of prying. Pressuring her into talking. Had he not promised himself he would never do that, pressure her? Force her to do something she does not want?

But Bran’s words haunt him; Jon needs to know what happened, otherwise, how is he supposed to help her?

“Sansa,” he says her name, softly, reassuringly, conveying as much comfort as he can in that one word. “Sansa, please… Please talk to me.”

Gods, let me comfort you. Sansa, just let me help you.

She shakes her head, stands up and walks swiftly towards the fireplace. He follows, but stays at arm’s length; every part of him itches to reach out and draw her into his arms, provide the comfort he knows she wants—craves as much as he does.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” his body sways forward; he takes a step, but then freezes. “I’m so sorry, Sansa, I should’ve been here to protect you. I promised you I would and I failed and…”

“You didn’t fail—”

“But I did!” Jon reaches out, touching her shoulder tentatively; he needs her to look at him. “I did. You were right… about everything; I couldn’t protect you, I walked right into a trap by going to Dragonstone, spent months on a fools’ errand and all for nothing—”

She turns around then, and the words die in his mouth. For an agonizing second he thinks she’ll yell at him – she’s holding herself so tightly, eyes swimming with unshed tears and lips trembling. Thinks she’ll yell and cry and crumble and he can’t, can’t bear witness to—she hugs him. Sansa closes the distance between them in one stride and wrap her arms around his shoulders, fisting her hands on his jerkin and squeezing.

His hands hover for a moment at her sides before embracing her just as desperately.

“You didn’t fail,” she says, measuring her words; takes a deep breath. “You did protect me, because you left Ghost with me. You told him to look after me, protect me, and he did. Ghost, who is a part of you—as much as Lady was a part of me.”

A pause; the way her voice breaks nearly unmans him. Jon buries his face in the slope of her neck, breaths her in; his heart clatters within his chest and he wonders if it’ll always be the same – if his heart will always stumble upon itself at the sight of her, if his breath will always catch every time she gifts him with one of her smiles. If his hands will always itch to run through her hair, to trail over her waist and up her back and pull her closer, closer, and closer.

Gods he’s missed her, so bloody much.

Too close, he thinks, urgently, I’m too damn close. This isn’t proper; such an errant thought and he knows he’s been toeing that line for far longer than just now. Except he’s not just toeing it now, is he. He’s simply blown it away. Has been steadily erasing it for months on end before setting sail for Dragonstone.

My sister. Sansa is my sister; she’s always been my sister, but…

But. But. But.

She really isn’t, is she?

“And your journey to Dragonstone was not in vain,” Sansa says, effectively dragging him out of his tumultuous thoughts. “We have the dragonglass. Two shipments of it and a third has just arrived at White Harbor and should be on its way here by tomorrow.”

“But I was supposed to come back with more than just—”

“Jon,” she pulls back, breaking their embrace thought she does grabs hold of his hands, “I know you did your best to secure an alliance with Daenerys Targaryen. We’ll think of a way to make her understand the danger there is beyond The Wall. Let us not despair before giving it another try, alright?”

He heaves a sigh because he knows it will not be as easy as giving it another try. The Dragon Queen has proven to be much too focused on getting the Iron Throne, on getting her birthright, to consider helping them without asking that they bend the knee. Jon wonders if he should tell Sansa about it, about the choice he was given. He knows he won’t, not now when he feels so very exhausted, when all he wants to do is sit down with her and find some rest.

Make sure she finds some rest.

“Come ‘ere,” Jon says, voice rumbling low; he tugs on her hands as he walks them over the settee in front of the fireplace, has to keep tugging until she relents and sits next to him. Closer than she would have before. “I was told you’ve been doing brilliantly ruling in my stead. As I knew you would.”

Sansa blinks, owlishly; there are faint shadows under her eyes, he can’t stop himself from reaching up and running his thumb over it. It doesn’t make her look any less lovely.

“You need to rest now, Sansa, if only for a moment.”

She nods, letting her head drop to his shoulder; a first, for them. “Only for a moment, then.”

Jon rest his head on hers, hoping this first won’t be the last.

Tomorrow, he decides, they’ll talk about the Dragon Queen tomorrow, after he’s enquired about what happened to Littlefinger – what happened between her and Arya. There’s so much he needs to ask about, so much he wants to tell her—he wonders if she knows, if Bran’s told her…

“Jon?”

“Yes?”

“I missed you.”

Tomorrow, it can all wait until tomorrow.

“…I missed you, too.”

* *

part ii

[crosbyru-blog]

Reaction to Trump's proposed rollback of fuel-economy and greenhouse gas standards

The Trump administration today released its proposal to roll back Obama-era regulations for greenhouse gas emissions and cap federal fuel efficiency requirements for passenger vehicles at the 2020 levels of 35 mpg, instead of letting them continue to rise through 2025 to about 50 mpg. Here are some reactions from around the industry to the administration's approach: Rhea Suh, president of the Natural Resources Defense Council: "The Trump administration is driving our auto future in reverse. The clean car standards are already saving our families billions at the pump, supporting nearly 300,000 American jobs, and cleaning up dangerous tailpipe pollution. We need to speed up that progress, not slide backward. Let's keep our eyes on the road–and not let Trump and his dirty deputies run us into the ditch." Joint statement from the Alliance of Automobile Manufacturers and and the Association of Global Automakers: "Automakers support continued improvements in fuel economy and flexibilities that incentivize advanced technologies while balancing priorities like affordability, safety, jobs, and the environment. With today's release of the Administration's proposals, it's time for substantive negotiations to begin. We urge California and the federal government to find a common sense solution that sets continued increases in vehicle efficiency standards while also meeting the needs of America's drivers." Ann Smith, senior vice president of government affairs for the Motor & Equipment Manufacturers Association:  {{title}} {{abstract}} Read more > {{/content}} “We will continue to work with the agencies and California to develop one national standard that maintains stability for our member companies. We believe continued progress in fuel efficiency and vehicle emissions standards will allow our country to remain a leader in the technologies that make cars and trucks cleaner and more efficient here and around the globe.” Adam Lee, chairman of Lee Auto Malls in Maine: "Mark my words; this rollback will be bad for business. "As automakers have met the standards, manufacturers and dealers have been selling more cars and making more money than ever before. Here is my question for the President and these agencies: Why are we going to change the very standards that are giving us the most advanced, most efficient and most desirable cars, trucks and SUVs we've ever seen? "The reality is that Fiat Chrysler, General Motors and Ford compete in a global economy. China, India, Japan, South Korea and the European Union all have higher fuel-economy standards than the U.S. The world is moving to cleaner, more efficient vehicles. You don't have to care about clean air to see that reversing on fuel efficiency would put our automakers out of step with a global market. "Do you think Honda, Nissan and Toyota are planning to make cars that are less efficient? When did America start to believe that losing our competitive edge was a good thing? "The idea that rolling back miles-per-gallon standards will be good for the U.S. auto industry is ridiculous." Karl Brauer, executive publisher of Autotrader and Kelley Blue Book: "This is a huge shift in regulatory oversight, and while it initially looks like a benefit for automakers, it will likely add a level of uncertainty none of them want. Producing and selling automobiles is a long-term process. It requires long-term planning that can't easily be modified without costing car companies a lot of money. Government policy changes are similarly protracted, often requiring years to resolve. This combination will keep courtrooms busy and boardrooms nervous for the foreseeable future." John M. DeCicco, research professor at the University of Michigan Energy Institute: "The administration's effort to roll back these standards is a denial of basic science and a denial of American automakers' engineering capabilities and ingenuity. "Transportation is the nation's largest source of the excess CO2 emissions that cause global warming. Both science and economics show that motor vehicle efficiency and greenhouse gas standards are crucial and effective ways to deal with this problem. "There has been enormous progress in automotive engineering. This progress provides automakers with many low-cost ways to achieve steady gains in efficiency and meet the strong but fair and flexible standards developed six years ago. "The past decade saw average new car and light truck fuel economy rise by 23% even as sales reached new highs and vehicles improved in performance and in many other ways. This progress is a tribute to engineering ingenuity and it refutes any claims that stronger standards put sales, jobs and profits at risk. "Michigan's automakers have the technology and intellectual capital needed to meet ever-tighter MPG and GHG emission targets. The standards are designed with flexibility in mind, and have already adjusted to the shift back to SUVs and other light trucks. "California and other states will be well justified in an effort to preserve their rights to keep strong standards in place and ensure environmental progress." David Cooke, senior vehicles analyst at the Union of Concerned Scientists: "By going after state authority to set emissions standards, the administration would also be fighting against one of the strongest levers California and other states have on public health. Electrification of transportation is a key component of many state plans to meet air quality requirements. Attacking state leadership on cleaner vehicles is a direct attack on public health, particularly that of the most vulnerable communities." Michelle Krebs, executive analyst of Autotrader: "This was a predictable move, as the current administration has been working hard to dismantle Obama-era regulations across the board. And while there's little demand today for smaller, more-efficient or electrified vehicles in the U.S., as gas prices remain low, these lower fuel economy targets proposed by the administration will likely spark an unwanted war between Washington and the California Air Resources Board. While few stakeholders were happy with the tough targets in the current regulations, unraveling those standards will likely be even more painful." Rebecca Lindland, executive analyst, Kelley Blue Book: "While many environmentalists will see this move as an attack, the reality is sales of hybrid and electric vehicles are not growing, even with incentives on the vehicles and home chargers and the like. If and when consumers demand more fuel efficiency from their vehicles, or we finally get a noticeable gas tax, OEMs will build them. With that being said, I do believe Gen Z -- and especially the youngest ones -- will expect their vehicles to be electrified in some manner, so demand may come in the next 10-15 years. A smart OEM will continue to develop EVs and hybrids, and, if the administration gets its way, do so without the pressure to meet an unrealistic regulatory statute. U.S. Rep. Frank Pallone, D-N.J., and ranking Democrat on the House Energy and Commerce Committee:  “The Trump Administration’s gutting of fuel economy standards doesn’t just grind the gears of progress to a halt; it throws our nation’s vehicle policy into reverse. This decision is terrible for consumers, imperils public health, and pushes us further toward unchecked climate change amidst an unprecedented global heat wave.  “President Trump’s rollback will also undermine the competitiveness of our domestic vehicle industry and endangers the hundreds of thousands of jobs associated with car manufacturing. The reality is car manufacturing is a highly competitive global industry and today’s rollback will undermine our manufacturers’ ability to compete for consumers around the world. http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/autonews/BreakingNews/~3/S66BkrFldPw/cafe-fuel-economy-greenhouse-gas-co2-auto-trump buy here pay here https://www.buyherepayherebirmingham.xyz/reaction-to-trumps-proposed-rollback-of-fuel-economy-and-greenhouse-gas-standards/

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The True Danger Of Hurricane Season Is Much More Long-Term

Greetings from the apocalypse! I’m writing from the Summer of 2017, when wildfires have made Idaho and California smell like the Devil’s Vegan Barbecue, the sun is the color of a fresh period stain, and the Gulf Coast is aligned with the first teat of a four-boobied hurribeast.

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In a moment when it feels blasphemous to send anything but prayers, goodwill, money, awareness, donations, and time to everyone suffering from Harvey and the triplets of evil following it, there’s another story that needs to be told about these hurricanes:

There is no upside, silver lining, or good news coming.

More hurricanes, floods, and fires are on their way, and no one, not even the Americans in the Middle, are immune to what future natural disasters will do to this country. Not even Texas. Actually, let’s start with Texas.

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Texas Explains Why We’re Never Ready For Hurricanes

I’m from South Texas, where the school year doesn’t feel real until you’ve had a Meet the Teacher night and a hurricane warning, sometimes on the same day. In my fuzzy childhood memories, hurricanes were exciting moments at the end of summer when you got to fill up your bathtub with a reckless amount of water and pray for a day off from school.

Which explains why hurricane parties are a thing, and why you can find all of your hurricane party decorating needs on Pinterest. No other natural disaster comes with such a slow build and a festive atmosphere. And when hurricane season is built into your seasonal routine — my little sister was named after a hurricane that hit Texas 19 years before she was born — you just roll with them as best you can.

So I wasn’t surprised that most of my friends, family, and childhood friends’ families didn’t evacuate when they knew Harvey was coming. It is very hard to get on a bus going to a place you don’t know for a thing that may or may not ever come. And Houston? Forget it. If you thought Houston should have been 100 percent evacuated, you’ve probably never been there. During Hurricane Rita, there were 100 deaths in Texas, 60 of which were related to Houston’s disastrous attempt to evacuate three million residents all at once.

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The Single Most Entitled Reaction To Modern Problems

I also wasn’t surprised that Texans went nuts helping each other out once the waters started rising. Not because Texans are uniquely neighborly compared to other humans in distress, but because we’re uniquely good at self-publicity. It’s kind of our thing. That said, if you have South Texas friends on your Facebook timeline like I do, you know there were convoys of volunteers ready with food and water before Harvey was even done with its dirty business. Behind every dramatic rescue moment that went viral, there were thousands that no one saw, and for every tone-deaf Joel Osteen, there were hundreds of churches (and synagogues, and mosques!) mobilizing to provide immediate relief. I said there wasn’t a silver lining to Harvey, but that’s actually not true; after a summer of awful news, the storm reminded us that people are good.

The problem is that being good in dangerous moments isn’t going fix next season’s weather. And this season’s hurricane victims are only facing the beginning of their problems.

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The Next Round Of Rescues Won’t Have Viral Videos

Here’s what’s coming: Ten years after Katrina, New Orleans doctors reported a three-fold increase in heart attack victims. The stress from the flooding, multiple relocations, and disruptions in medical care are still messing with the bodies of the people who survived the storm. In the next few months, we should expect to see people contracting gastrointestinal problems from wading in standing water (I mean, we won’t literally see their diarrhea, but you get it). People with chronic issues like diabetes, heart disease, and asthma will suffer from disruptions in their medical care, which will lead to more hospital visits and deaths. It’s probably worth noting that Texas and the rest of the Gulf Coast aren’t in good shape to begin with, health-wise.

Wait! It gets worse! I haven’t even talked about the mosquitoes yet! The West Nile virus was completely wiped out of the population in the immediate aftermath of Katrina. A year later, West Nile cases doubled. This map shows the Texas counties that identified cases of West Nile virus back in May, before hurricane season started:

Texas Health and Human Services

Nine counties in Texas have already started asking pregnant women to get the Zika test, because as you probably remember, Zika means joint pain, rashes, and fever for adults, but severe brain damage, microcephaly, and even death for unborn children.

Wait, it gets even worse! Texas slashed Planned Parenthood funding in 2011, and abortions have been on the rise in the state ever since. What does that mean for pregnant women wading through mosquito-infested waters or working on cleaning up the debris outside their house right now? Hopefully nothing. Hopefully we never see Zika again, and these pregnant women deliver healthy babies who have happy lives ahead of them. Hopefully Texas women who aren’t pregnant today will have plenty of access to contraceptives in the next few months, because the mosquitoes might last until Christmas this year. There’s just some more bad news from Katrina that we have to cover, though:

Katrina’s kids never quite recovered from the storm, either.

Experts say that we’ll never know how many Louisiana children lost a year or more of school after Katrina. They know that Louisiana has one of the country’s highest rates of young adults who aren’t in school and aren’t at work — not because the kids who suffered through the storm just quit school then and there and committed to the hobo lifestyle, but because the average Katrina student moved seven times after the storm. Seven moves would do a number on any student, even the rich ones who are moving because their parents are moving up the corporate ladder or the tough military kids who move because the government makes them. Combine seven moves with a traumatizing childhood event, separation from extended family and communities, economic hardship, and the struggle to rebuild a life in a place where most of your friends and family are suffering through the same problems you are, and yeah, it’s no wonder Katrina’s students didn’t have a great graduation rate.

And not finishing school a is big deal, because …

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We Like To Help Drowning People, But We Suck At Helping Poor People

At the end of the day, bad things happen to everyone, but bad things happen extra hard to poor people. Sickness, natural disasters, layoffs, and addiction can obviously hit anyone at any financial level, but the most vulnerable among us have the hardest time recovering, if they recover at all. In other words, when you’re poor, a flood can lead to a series of setbacks that have decades of consequences. It’s called the Bad Break Test, and America is failing it.

One researcher put the Bad Break Test this way:

“In societies that function well, there are various safety nets in place to prevent a bad break from leading to a tailspin for particularly vulnerable victims. Compared to many other rich nations, the U.S. is not such a society — all too often, when vulnerable Americans encounter a bad break, there’s nothing underneath them to stop their slide. Instead, devastation follows, sometimes in the form of bankruptcy and addiction and death.”

For example, America’s opioid crisis didn’t happen in a vacuum, and it certainly didn’t happen because of Mexicans. Some economists call the increase in overdoses, alcohol poisoning, and suicides “deaths of despair.” Americans are killing themselves over their economic prospects. There comes a point at which people stop trying to break out of their hopelessness and just start numbing themselves to death.

What does the Bad Break Test have to do with hurricanes? 22 percent of Houston’s residents live under the poverty line. Yes, Texans are #TexasStrong and #TexasProud and will rebuild, but let’s not kid ourselves over who will bear the brunt of this storm and every storm to come: poor people who don’t have savings, insurance, or a Plan B or C or D to rely on when everything they own is destroyed. They’re already living in their Plan D, and Plan D is underwater or covered in mold.

How do we cope with the millions of coastal Americans who have decades of hurricane seasons to come? The ones who are forced to leave already have a name, by the way: “climate refugees.” One Louisiana town has been granted 48 million federal dollars to just get out before the Gulf swallows them. The entire town is the first community in the world to get federal money to rebuild somewhere else before their island is washed away, and they’re struggling with figuring out how to do it. Even though we’re only talking about 60 people, they haven’t figured out how to move, and aren’t totally sure they even want to go.

And that’s why we should all be worried. Humans are great at handling danger when it’s at the door, but not when it’s a hundred miles or a year away.

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Americans Are Good Heroes But Terrible Planners

Real talk: The American states that will need the most help tackling flooding and extreme weather in the coming years also voted to keep the government out of their lives in the 2016 election. The fierce independence and self-reliance that Texas is so proud of is exactly what will doom them. Houston didn’t just flood because of a lot of rain; it flooded because it let people build neighborhoods in known flood zones. Why? Because the only reason white people live in Texas in the first place is that Anglos wanted space. Every time people try to build something in Texas, no one has the guts to tell them “No.”

Footnote: The previous statement is not true. Mexico had the guts to tell people to stop building houses in Texas.

Extra footnote: There are lots of conservationists and environmentalists in Texas. They’re just not in charge.

It’s going to take a lot of tax dollars, research, government oversight, discipline, and humility to keep the Atlantic Ocean from swallowing our coasts, and our red states aren’t up for the challenge yet. We listen to our weathermen when the storms are a few days away, but not our scientists and engineers when they tell us that planning for disasters takes years and money. The thing is, Texas has a TON of money. We don’t even have to reinvent the wheel to save lives; we can study how a little bitty country like the Netherlands tackled their own flood monster and lived to tell the tale. If it were up to me, I’d pay close attention to any country that landed on “FLOODPLAIN COUNTRY” as its official name.

You can find more from Kristi deep in the heart of Twitter.

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