#comedical. COMICAL. I need to go to bed

[7-oh-ta1]

World's sleepiest girl attempts to breed blue roses in acnh

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Hi can u pls do like a tag team type thing with Ellie Williams and vi or vi and Caitlyn please. Thank you!

Hi anon, thank you for this request. You gave me the perfect opportunity to try writing a threesome! I hope you enjoy this, I know it's more Vi-centric but I love my girl Ellie too.

Content: 1.5k words, Slight virgin/corruption kink (reader is their good girl and they gotta take her virginity!!), fingering (r! receiving), nipple-play (r! receiving), strap-on sex (r! receiving), use of pet names, not edited so may have some spelling errors

“I know what you want, angel.”

Vi’s voice cuts through your daydream. You were stuck on the way Ellie’s veins were visible through her hands and how you wanted her fingers deep inside you..you shouldn’t, ‘cause she’s supposed to be just a friend. Still, you’re a sick slut who’s imagining Ellie fucking you into outer space.

Not only that, but Vi, too. Her back, oh fuck..it’s so hard to think when she is wearing a wife-beater and her burly build is on display. You wanna claw into her back-

You’re so fucking obsessed with your two best friends, it’s unreal.

Ellie, for one, is a dream. She’s more standoffish and quiet—not shy, but prefers to keep to herself unless she’s with you and Vi. She feels comfortable, but she’s not like Vi in really any way that matters.

Where Ellie is into playing the guitar and reading comics, Vi’s into boxing and sports. You’re their cute best friend who somehow puts up with their bullshit. And right now, it’s so hard to study when Ellie suddenly shifts closer, and Vi’s words are on the other side of you, words spoken softly but teasingly into your ear.

You’re supposed to be doing peer review in your bedroom..

“W-What are you even talking about, Vi?!” You feign innocence.

Vi only laughs, and your core is heating up. How the hell did you go from playful banter to the room suddenly dripping with sexual tension, laid on so thick you swear it’s already filling your nostrils.

“Don’t act dumb, angel. We see the way you look at us. C’mon..” Her voice is alluring, soft, and it doesn’t help that Ellie is just staring at you with hungry eyes. She isn’t like Vi, not teasing and comedic when it comes to romance. That’s what is so enticing about the situation you’ve found yourself in; you have two completely different but beautiful girls in your bed! You’re somehow getting more pussy than the average masc, and you’re sporting stocking for fuck’s sake.

When your face goes all read and your fingers are trembling, it almost goes unnoticed by Ellie the way your thighs are squeezing together. She lays a hand on your left thigh, the side of you she’s sitting next to, and slowly traces her touch up and down, soft patterns as if she’s making sure you’re really into all this.

Ellie and Vi both know you’re into this..these bitches read your journal in which you talked about getting drilled by both their straps!

“Gonna get all shy on us now, angel?” Vi murmurs into your ear, lips hardly making contact with your soft skin. The funniest thing about all of this is that Ellie is the one touching you and she hasn’t said a single word. It’s Vi guiding this, and Ellie adds onto your neediness.

Then, you feel Vi’s soft lips trace over the side of your neck. You could’ve came right then and there, and Vi earned herself a gasp.

“P-Please..” Is all you can even say. Your brain is much too fucked to process anything else, to think of anything but getting fucked by your two friends who you cherish more than anything in this world.

Your thighs squeeze and Ellie leans closer into you. Now, her lips are smothering the opposite side of your neck. You’re currently feeling all the blood in your body rush down to your clit. Your panties are as soaked as they’d be at a water park.

“Please what? C’mon, baby..tell me ‘n Els what you need.”

“I need you to make me feel good!”

You sounded so breathless already, it was pretty cute. They couldn’t deny you when you were like this.

-

You were left in absolutely but your thigh-high stockings—Vi and Ellie mutually agreed to keep those on. You’re laid out, Vi holding your legs open so you don’t shy away, with your slick pussy on full display. You’re already a goner.

Vi has a huge dildo attached to the harness around her waist. You did not know she brought that monster. Ellie definitely knew this, it had to be planned.

Vi needs to prep you first, she doesn’t wanna hurt her and Ellie’s good girl. Her fingers first trail over your pussy lips, eliciting already desperate moans from you. Ellie is watching and you swear she has hearts in her eyes. She pressed her middle finger into your pussy slightly, making you immediately clench your thighs together around her hand, but she doesn’t let up because you’re giving her soft little little pleas, “p-please, Vi..”, all she wants is to please you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” She groans as she slides her finger knuckles deep into your sopping pussy, watching your reaction to make sure you’re doing okay, and then slowly pulls out and adds another, stretching you open slowly as your inner walls swallow her fingers up.

Ellie is sat beside your sprawled body, groping your tits and leaning down to swallow your little whines of need with her mouth.

Kissing Ellie is like another level of heaven. It’s what you imagine being high to be like, if you ever actually smoked weed. Her lips are so soft, so warm. Her tongue licks all over your mouth and it makes you moan even more. When she pulls away, you’re breathless.

“Think you can take my dick, baby?” Vi inquires, and you immediately let out a slutty moan.

“I can, I promise!! Please give it to me, Vi..”

Vi nearly loses her shit when she hears that. It’s always the good girls that are most desperate, am I right?

“Give it to her, Vi. She’ll take it.” Ellie assures the pink-haired girl, and it makes you even wetter that she is talking to Vi as if you’re not there, like you’re basically too dumbed down to understand what she is talking about.

Vi doesn’t seem to wanna waste much time. She pulls her fingers out slowly, making you whine in protest before letting Ellie lick them clean. She spits down and rubs it all over the silicone cock, then she runs the cock up and down along your pussy, making you dizzy with need.

She finally parts your pussy lips and slides just the tip in when she’s got enough of your slick on her dick, and your legs automatically wrap around her waist, making her almost say “fuck it” and pound into you like you’re just some whore.

Ellie watches with hunger as Vi slowly fucks her cock into you. There’s less resistance with all of your juices and Vi’s own..lubricant, but she can practically tell your pussy clamping down on the cock. She realizes just how long she has been sitting in complete awe and leans down to wrap her lips around one of your nipples, making you moan even louder and tangle your fingers into Ellie’s hair.

Getting fucked feels so dirty, and yet so, so good. You’ve got Vi pounding into you now, the ridges of the cock slamming into your spongey walls right where you need it. You’ve got Ellie’s eager tongue flicking against your nipples, taking turns with each while her hand is between you and Vi’s bodies, rubbing tight circles onto your clit.

Your eyes want to just close and feel what these girls are giving you, but you can’t. The sight is so embarrassing for you to watch, but it makes it all the more better to just watch Vi groan as she thrusts into you, and watch as Ellie softly bites your tits.

“Baby’s getting close, hm?” Vi teases, making you involuntarily clench on her cock, only hastening your upcoming orgasm. Ellie’s mouth leaves your nipple, much to your disappointment, to whisper into your ear.

“Cum for us.” Her words are so vulgar, but the soft pecks she plants on your neck is what really sends you over.

You cry out their names like you’re worshipping them, frantically grasping onto Ellie’s hair and tugging at it to keep her mouth all over you, her tongue on your throat, and Vi is saying the most filthy things you’ve ever heard her say as your orgasm crashes through you like waves.

“Fuckkk, swear I can feel your pretty little cunt milk me.”

“There you go, good girl..just cum for me and Ellie.”

When you finally come down from your high, Vi slows down and Ellie’s mouth leaves your neck to plant a few soft kisses on your lips, her fingers leaving your clit to squeeze your hand.

You’re all blissed out, cute little stockings still adorned, and panting with closed eyes.

You just know you’re gonna get the best aftercare.

[thebibliosphere]

It’s been a while since I fever dreamed the plot to something, but I just woke up from a literal fever dream set in a futuristic version of New York where Tom Hiddleston and his pet cyborg owl are entrenched in a spy thriller buddy-cop narrative, only to get swept up in the conflicting heartfelt rom-com narrative of Dakota Johnson who, after a series of unfortunate breakups, has sworn off love and committed herself heart and soul to her job as a curator at Futuristic Met Museum. This is much to the distress of her weed smoking, shroom taking trans lesbian mothers and their elderly dog, Jeff, who just want her to find happiness and love.

As part of his cover, Tom and his cyborg owl, Frank, move into the same apartment where he’ll be staying for several months while he plans to steal a diamond from the Met. I think if you held it up to the light it would project nuclear launch codes that’d been etched onto it. Don’t ask me, my brain was more focused on making the cyborg owl into the wise-cracking comic relief. It kept saying things like “wow Tom, you really are a jack of owl trades” or “don’t worry, Tom, owl always love you.”

The pair meet in the lobby where Tom manages to piss off Dakota by not holding the elevator for her while she is carrying heavy boxes. The apartment building, however, is old and shitty, and he gets stuck in the elevator, requiring him to be rescued by one of Dakota’s mothers who also happens to be the super. Dakota huffs her way out the stairwell just in time to hear her mother inviting the “nice British man” to dinner, much to her chagrin as she realizes that her mom is trying to set her up with the asshole and the cyborg owl that sits on his shoulder like a parrot.

Tom, who finds out she works for the met over said dinner, decides to go along with it as he realizes she’d be the perfect cover to get into the Met Museum for an upcoming gala event—not to mention the perfect person to take the fall for his theft—and begins wooing her relentlessly, assuring Frank, the cyborg owl, that it’s all just part of the mission.

Eventually, the pair fall for each other for realzies, and Tom is conflicted over using her to steal the diamond but his time is running out because we also find out he went rogue for a while after his partner died and was using his skills to work freelance for an international crime syndicate and now the mob is after him?????

Anyway, he’s about to confess all to her on the night of the gala when she gets a phone call from her moms letting her know that their elderly dog, Jeff, is dying so the pair rush back to the apartment and take him to the nearest cyborg vet in the hopes of saving him. En route, the mob find them and start shooting at the flying car they’re in and it leads to a comedic shouting match between the pair along the lines of “what do you mean you’re an international spy and the mob are after you? Ugh, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this sooner! I told you everything about me!”

“Oh, yes, your embarrassing high school stories are exactly the same thing as divulging international secrets. Tell you what, after this let’s get a coffee and I can tell you some highly sensitive top secret information to even out the playing field.”

Anyway, Frank the cyborg owl manages to take out the mob car chasing them with a grenade (????!), and the pair get Jeff to the cyborg vet in time. The dream shifted after that to Dakota helping Tom to figure out how to break into the Met so he can get the diamond, not because she loves him and he helped save her childhood dog, but because she wants him gone. Tom accepts her help and storms off to his own apartment where Frank the cyborg owl is poignantly silent save to say “take some Tylenol”

“…what?”

“Wake up, you need Tylenol.”

Which is what sent me rocketing upright in bed, dizzy and dehydrated, pounding migraine headache, drenched in sweat and running what the thermometer tells me is a 102 fever.

Which brings us to now where I’m downing Tylenol in the dimly lit kitchen, guzzling water and typing this all up on my phone because there’s no way I’m going to remember all this in the morning but damn if it wasn’t a fun dream.

Anyway, shout out to Frank the cyborg owl for waking me up before my brain fried ✌️🦉. I’m going back to bed.

[onboardsorasora]

De aged Daniel sneakily putting on Max’s race suit and helmet then going to show max and he says “look Maxy ima race car driver like you!!!” because he may love Ferrari at his young age but he’s grown to love his maxy more

Hey besties! I hope you don't mind me putting these two prompts together! I love when we hive mind lol

De-Aged Daniel | De-Aged Daniel Pt2 | De-Aged Daniel Pt3 | De-Aged Daniel Pt 4 | De- Aged Daniel Pt 5 | De-Aged Daniel Part 6 | De-Aged Daniel Part 7

Max blinked in shock as he stepped out onto the patio with a cold can of redbull. Little Daniel was riding around the backyard, laughing joyously with himself. That wasn’t the surprising thing of course, Max was used to Little Daniel playing games with himself and his squeaking honking laugh echoing in the living room normally.

No, what was surprising was that Little Daniel was wearing his helmet. Max’s helmet. The one from his first season in RedBull. It looked comical on the little boy, made him look more like a bobble head than ever before. But Max couldn’t deny how overwhelmingly adorable it also was.

Little Daniel wobbled to a stop, spying Max’s presence. He slid backwards off of the slightly taller bike before running to stop in front of Max.

“Maxy Look! I’m a race car driver like you!” Little Daniel grabbed onto the helmet to hold it steady, his little fingers clutching at the red bull logo. Max could see his beaming smile a mile away.

“You look good! I bet you can go very fast!” 

“I would win the race firsht! I will be the fastestest!” Little Daniel ran in a circle around Max before throwing his hands in the air in victory. Max couldn’t help his crinkly eyed grin.

“Hmmmmm, you can’t win a race dressed like that!” Max said teasingly.

“But Fewawi is racing clothes! Silly Maxy!” Daniel giggled, the helmet bowed forward as he laughed and Little Daniel clutched it tighter. Max looked at him, in his favourite bright red Ferrari shirt and Max’s helmet. 

“I have better racing clothes.” Max said matter of factly, thinking to the other things in the red bull gift bag that Little Daniel had so quickly spurned. Max knew his time had come.

“You do??” Little Daniel asked curiously, his large brown eyes wide. Max was about to blow his mind.

“Yes, I can show you.” Max motioned for Little Daniel to follow him, grinning around his can as he helmet wobbled and bobbled as they went.

They ended up in Little Daniel’s room and he dove onto the bed while Max put down his drink and went into the closet. He turned around to see little Daniel jumping up and down on the bed, giggling wildly.

“I’m an ashtronut!” He cackled, gripping Max’s helmet so it stayed on his head.

“I thought you were a racing driver?” Max asked ‘confused’.

“Racing drivers can’t fly Maxy!” Little Daniel squealed.

“Well I guess since you are an astronaut now, you don’t need a racing driver suit, I think.” Max shrugged, as Little Daniel gasped loudly.

“A racing suit? For me?” He bounced into a sitting position, wide eyes and tiny nose visible through the open visor. 

“For you!” Max presented the navy red bull kid sized replica race suit.

“Can I wear it?” Little Daniel gasped, his leg started bouncing excitedly.

“Of course. Let's put it on.” 

Little Daniel bounded off the bed in an excited whirlwind. Getting the race suit on was a comedic montage because Little Daniel refused to take off Max’s helmet and he giggled every time Max’s head hit it.

Soon though, the little excited body was running around the room in the just a smidge too big overalls. The sleeves bunched on his wiry arms and the legs were bunched a little at his ankles but he didn’t seem to care as he was vibrating out of his little body with energy.

He looked in the mirror once before running around the room like a maniac. 

“I look so cool!!!” Little Daniel screeched before running out of the room making car zooming noises. Max chuckled and grabbed his phone, he figured Grace would appreciate a video or two.

[celestie0]

hi, love! how are you today? are you doing well? is work treating you good?

i hope you are doing well! flowers 💐 for my favourite girlie ✨

also have you got any tips for new writers? like i’ve been tryna write this fanfic but i cannot really understand how to keep it flowing without forcing it out, and i’m hoping you can help us out. its absolutely fine if you’re busy or cannot for any reason. no pressure truly🥹

🫶💌

hellooo i’m doing well thank you 🥺💕 work is well i just got home, its rainy where i live so i made some hot cocoa and im just in bed now. i hope you’re feeling better i know you said you were sick <3 🌤️🌤️ some sunshine for you!

ohhh to be asked for writers tips is so flattering! i tried to think of my top few, and i have them below the read line :”) hope they help in some way and if you do end up posting your works don’t hesitate to tag me i would love to read them <3

my writing tips ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

dialogue. this one is toughhh bc i feel like a lot can ride on dialogue. my biggest tip for dialogue would be to just write all of your dialogue for a scene completely stripped down. none of the “he says” & “she says” or action verbs inbetween, just write it all out like it was a simple text convo w quotation marks. that way the words will sound realistic because you’re only picturing a convo in your head, rather than also trying to juggle all the descriptive prose. after you’ve got the dialogue, then you can go back in to fluff things up. if it’s meant to be comedic or a fast-paced argument, i think keeping it relatively stripped down is the way to go, but if it’s something intense or suspenseful then fluffing it up may be the better choice. also, i find dialogue becomes easier the more you write for a specific character, so if it’s not flowing right away, don’t worry!! their words will find you eventually once you get to know the character better :)

on choosing conflicts. this can be harddd because sometimes you just want the story to exist in happy land haha. but just like you said so beautifully in the sweet kickoff ch8 review you gave me, characters won’t always act perfect, but i think a great way to make conflict seem realistic is for them to act in character but with flaws, rather than just randomly out of character with flaws. maybe make a list of what that character’s good qualities and how those qualities could also work against them, and use the latter to brainstorm realistic conflict that those qualities could put them in (ex: a character is self-sufficient, but that causes them to rely on ppl less when they need it -> they fail to reach out for help in timely manners and leads to mistakes/regrets)

pacing. the biggessstt most important thing in my opinion for writing i believe is nailing the pacing. especially for fanfiction where people may be more interested in specific niche scenes rather than all of the stuff built around it. when starting off a story, don’t be afraid to just jump straight into it! or jump straight into the dialogue and then build the scene gradually as it progresses, rather than [gigantic block of text in beginning of scene that reader must drag their eyes through] and then get to the dialogue (im sooo bad w this myself lmao i fluff things up too much). in a world where attention spans are decreasing (rip), a lot of the times less is more. make sure the pacing fits the scene (romantic -> longer paragraphs more focused on subtle details, comical -> short paragraphs w simple n relatable diction, etc)

creating characters. with fanfiction this can be easy since you already have fleshed out characters from shows/books to work off of, but a good way to characterize is to just include little details that give them personality! not only is it a way to allow the reader to resonate with the character, but also it gives other characters in the story an opportunity to notice those lil quirks and create bonds over them as well. i just picture my friends or family in my head, the things i love about them, and incorporate it (i know nothing about film photography but my friend is a film major n thats where i got the idea for mc in kickoff)

for tone and mood. i think to get words flowing for different scenes, it can be really useful to get into the environment of those scenes while you’re writing, such as listening to a song that fits the vibe of the scene prior to/during writing (i blasted tgif by katy perry while writing the party scenes in ch6 of kickoff lol), or if its a scene at night, write it w the lights off, or watch a youtube vid w scenery that matches. may sound silly, but it could help! if i write something angsty in a really bright sunshine environment it’s hard for me to get the words

read more. this is sort of a miscellaneous one but a good way to subconsciously get better at writing is to just read more! your brain kinda learns how to write on its own when you read. also, when i’m reading, if i see words i really like i jot them down in my notes app so i have my own lil vocabulary of words that i know i would like to use in my writing

on writing insecurities. be proud of your writing!! your first draft does NOT have to be perfect. some days the words will flow, but on some they won’t, and that’s okay. don’t get too into your head about “i wonder what readers will think of this plot point or this character action” etc, i think having faith in your own process but also in your readers will bring you a lot of peace as you write :) create what you want to create and the rest will follow!! when i first started posting kickoff i was overthinking sooo many things that ended up being received just fine by readers in the end, so just stick to your plan 🫶🏼💕

use chatgpt. looool ai can be useful in writing too! i usually only use it after i'm completed with a draft, and i just plug select paragraphs into it to see if it can come up with some better words for me to use. it's also useful to come up with logistical details for aspects of your stories for world-building etc (no clue anything ab professional collegiate soccer games i've never been to one but i used chatgpt to come up with the scenes)

woooow i wrote way more than i thought i would haha but i hope this helps!! ive never given tips before so idk if these only make sense to me 💀 but hopefully they can be applied to what you’re looking to write as well :)

[universe-in-the-void-in-the-cube]

@icelandsgirl

Now the Nordc 5 as Gigolos.

Denmark: The Overzealous Charmer

Appearance and Aura: Denmark strides into a room like a peacock, fully aware of his flamboyance. He sports an eye-popping outfit, perhaps a neon-colored suit three sizes too small, with mismatched patterns that clash in the most jarring ways. His hair is tousled in a way that suggests he’s just awoken from a wild party. He wears a grin that’s both inviting and a little too wide, as if he’s perpetually on the lookout for attention. His aura is infectious, yet his boisterousness often borders on obnoxious.

Flamboyant Approach to Gigolo Duties: Denmark's attempts at charm manifest in boisterous and overly theatrical gestures. He flings his arms around, throws back his head with dramatic flair, and delivers incredulous one-liners. "Are you a magician? Because every time I look at you, everyone else disappears!"— he bellows this line like he’s just delivered Shakespeare, unaware that the only response is a raised eyebrow and a polite chuckle.

Outlandish Behavior: His penchant for partying translates poorly into his gigolo experience. During a date, he insists on heavy drinking, claiming it’s essential for creating a “relaxed atmosphere.” As he clinks glasses and throws back shots, he flails passionately, often spilling drinks on himself or, worse, his date. He then slurs through anecdotes of his wild adventures, veering between crude humor and shockingly personal stories that nobody asked to hear.

Initial Interaction: Denmark’s first encounter with female clients is an event in itself. Upon meeting, he bombards her with a barrage of compliments, almost overwhelming in their intensity. “Wow, you have the most incredible smile! It’s brighter than the sun on a summer’s day!” His enthusiasm, coupled with a large grin and extravagant gestures, is designed to impress but often crosses into the realm of discomfort. He holds her hand for an unnecessarily long time, grinning expectantly, oblivious to her bemusement.

Treatment Style: Denmark believes the key to winning over female clients lies in his ability to entertain. He goes above and beyond to create a lively and chaotic atmosphere, thrusting her into a series of impromptu games, fire-eating contests, or karaoke sessions. "Let’s sing your favorite song right here! I need to show you my talents!” His charm is loud, bravado-filled, and rife with enthusiastic antics. He might often try to take selfies at random moments, insisting, “It’s going to be a great memory! Smile!”

Social Dynamics: Female clients often feel a mix of amusement and exhaustion as they navigate Denmark's relentless energy. Her attempts to guide the conversation to more personal, meaningful topics are frequently thwarted by Denmark's comedic monologues and theatrical storytelling. He interrupts with exaggerated tales about his own life, making it difficult for her to share her thoughts. Denmark revels in the role of the entertainer, overshadowing her voice with his constant need for validation and laughter.

The Outcomes: By evening’s end, clients may leave feeling dizzy, not from romance, but from sheer incredulity at the chaotic experience. While some appreciate the humor, others find themselves drained, realizing that what could’ve been a delightful rendezvous turned into a comical circus. They depart without any real connection established—just bewildered memories and a longing for a more grounded interaction.

Finland: The Awkward Wallflower

Appearance and Aura: Finland’s approach is markedly understated, favoring muted colors and practical fabrics that may have been fashionable a decade ago but now just seem tired. He has an unkempt look, as if he just rolled out of bed—hair askew and attire always slightly wrinkled. His demeanor is timid, with nervous glances at his shoes, creating an air of vulnerability that is as endearing as it is disconcerting.

Shy and Reserved Interactions: When a client approaches, Finland’s initial reaction is a deep inhale, his eyes darting to the floor. His attempts at flirting usually include awkward compliments about mundane things, like the way they laugh or how they chosen a lovely drink. “You have… nice taste in… um, drinks?” he stammers, fighting the urge to disappear behind a potted plant.

Awkward Silence and Monologues: As conversation drags on, Finland occasionally manages to let slip personal hobbies—not with enthusiasm, but with a drone-like monotone. “I enjoy knitting. I have a cat.” He then launches into an overly detailed explanation of his last knitting project—a sweater for his cat, naturally. His fascination with mundane details and disinterest in actual interaction makes clients squirm in their seats, unsure of how to escape the painfully stagnant dialogue.

The Results: After an excruciating series of awkward silences filled only with the sound of ice clinking in drinks, clients often leave feeling more like psychological counselors than romantic partners. They question their own sanity for thinking that a gigolo should be engaging. Finland, oblivious to his social failings, typically doesn’t realize his date has left until he sees the bill arrive, prompting a sigh of relief as he retreats to his quiet corner.

Initial Interaction: Finland’s treatment of female clients begins with a mixture of shyness and hesitation. When a female client approaches, he often stutters through a nervous greeting, accompanied by an apologetic demeanor that can confuse her. “Uh, hi… um, you have nice shoes,” he might mumble, avoiding eye contact entirely.

Treatment Style: During their time together, Finland tends to retreat into the background, often allowing conversations to hover awkwardly. His timid nature makes him fail to read social cues, leading to uncomfortable silences where he fidgets nervously. Any attempts at intimacy are stilted and mechanical. If a female client expresses interest, he may freeze up or awkwardly shift the topic to his cats, completely missing any romantic undertones.

The Outcomes: The experience leaves female clients feeling frustrated and disconnected. They may appreciate his gentle nature but find him emotionally unavailable. Most would leave wishing for a deeper connection, feeling that she spent the evening babysitting a blushing wallflower instead of indulging in a meaningful romance.

Iceland: The Detached Overthinker

Appearance and Aura: Iceland stands aloof, dressed in his somber, all-black wardrobe that gives him an air of brooding mystery. His icy blue eyes scan the room, but they seem distant as if he’s contemplating the universe’s next great existential crisis rather than noticing who’s around him. Though his style could be seen as trendy, he often neglects maintenance, leading to a haphazard, unkempt look that allows him to blend into the shadows.

Philosophical Approach to Connections: His interactions are laden with heavy philosophical discourse. When approached by a client, he launches into a rambling analysis of societal norms and their implications. Instead of light banter, he poses questions like, “What is love, really?” and follows it up with an analysis of love in the context of 21st-century capitalism, leaving potential partners bewildered by the depth before they even get to the fun parts.

Emotional Withdrawal and Detachment: When intimacy is on the table, Iceland often shuts down, staring off into the distance as he worries about climate change or the ramifications of selfies on self-image. If asked about desires, he responds with an earnest, “Why desire anything when we are all caught in the loop of temporality?” This grim outlook renders any attempts at romance utterly stagnant.

The Results: Couples who hoped for connection often find themselves feeling profoundly disconnected after an evening with Iceland. They leave feeling as though they were subjected to a therapy session rife with nihilism rather than exploring passion. Even when they try to engage him, he often dismisses the prospect entirely, leaving them wondering if they spent the evening with a romantic partner or a philosophy major on a coffee break.

Initial Interaction: Iceland greets female clients with a cool demeanor, often probing them with profound questions before even introducing himself. “What are your thoughts on the inherent absurdity of love?” might be his opening line, which could either intrigue or bewilder a female client right off the bat.

Treatment Style: Throughout their interaction, he remains unfocused, frequently becoming lost in thought mid-conversation. Female clients might share their interests or feelings, only to have Iceland respond with a distracted nod, quickly transitioning into an existential monologue about the futility of human relationships. His tendency to intellectualize everything often overwhelms any attempts at genuine intimacy.

The Outcomes: Female clients may end up feeling more like philosophical collaborators than romantic partners, thrust into discussing deep themes rather than sharing light, tender moments. After a long evening filled with heavy thoughts and little connection, they might leave perplexed by the lack of warmth and affection. They often question if they had a romantic engagement or simply attended a lecture on life’s dilemmas.

Norway: The Snarky Skeptic

Appearance and Aura: Norway presents himself in an immaculate suit that’s devoid of any flair—a masterclass in Scandinavian minimalism. His cold expression suggests he’s either perpetually unimpressed or slightly disgruntled. He exudes an air of superiority mixed with a palpable disdain for the gigolo life, setting a tone that disarms rather than entices.

Sarcastic Interactions: When clients approach him, they are met with a withering look and a smirk that comes with a legion of sarcastic commentary. “Ah, just what I needed—another person who thinks they can save me from my existential dread.” He relishes in cutting remarks, like dissecting a client’s choice in clothing or mocking their drink choice, thinking this is playful banter when it, in fact, discourages warmth and connection.

Misdirected Wit and Intellectual Games: Norway becomes overly absorbed in proving his intellectual edge, citing obscure literary references and challenging clients to debates they never asked for. Instead of light conversations, he brings up topics like the absurdity of existence or critiques of mainstream media, which completely alienate potential partners.

The Results: Clients often leave feeling thoroughly insulted, wondering if they are supposed to enjoy the date or defend themselves against an unprovoked critique. What could have been a romantic evening devolves into an uncomfortable array of jabs, leading many to rethink their choices upon exiting. Norway, however, begs to differ, believing his ‘witticisms’ to be the height of charm, completely missing the mark.

Initial Interaction: Norway’s approach is often filled with sarcasm from the get-go. He may greet a female client with a dismissive comment like, “So, have you come to save me from my gloomy outlook on life?” This dark humor might catch her off guard, setting an uncomfortable tone for the evening.

Treatment Style: As their time progresses, Norway utilizes biting wit and sardonic humor as tools for conversation. He can dissect a woman’s choice of outfit with a sarcastic jab or cast doubt on her interests, all while thinking he’s engaging her in playful banter. When she seeks warmth or compliments, he may deflect with cynical remarks, refusing to divulge authentic feelings.

The Outcomes: By the end of the date, female clients often feel belittled and defensive rather than cherished. They leave feeling like they’ve been through a series of tests instead of a romantic rendezvous, disheartened by the lack of empathy. Norway’s dismissive approach might lead them to doubt their own self-worth, leaving them reluctant to revisit any romantic pursuits after such a grueling experience.

Sweden: The Rigid Perfectionist

Appearance and Aura: Sweden is the epitome of fashion meets functionality, donned in tailored suits that scream sophistication minus the playfulness. His structured wardrobe reflects a life lived by strict schedules; everything he wears is impeccably ironed and tasteful, leaving no room for spontaneity or flair, which contributes to an overall sterile presence.

Meticulous Planning and Structure: Every date with Sweden comes with a detailed itinerary—dinner at 7, a museum visit at 8:30, and a quiet reflection period at 9:45. His excessively planned interactions snuff out any vein of spontaneity. “I hope you’ll enjoy the cherry blossom exhibit, it starts promptly at 8:00 sharp,” he declares, making it abundantly clear that there’s no room for deviation.

Emotional Sterility: During intimate moments, if they ever arise, Sweden carefully evaluates every angle and position, treating it like a task to be accomplished rather than a shared experience. He details every move, commenting on posture and ensuring everything aligns with his personal “values of efficiency.” Romance dissolves into a series of awkwardly precise moments lacking genuine warmth.

The Results: By the end of the evening, clients often leave feeling drained and bewildered, overwhelmed by a rigid schedule that killed any spark of passion. They question whether they even went on a romantic date or attended a workshop on platonic interaction. Sweden typically reflects on how well the evening went, believing his structure adds to the experience, entirely oblivious to the cacophony of frustration he leaves in his wake.

Initial Interaction: Sweden introduces himself with formal politeness, perhaps remapping the encounter in his mind as a well-ordered business meeting. “Thank you for being on time,” he starts, outlining the evening’s itinerary, ensuring she knows the schedule. His approach may come off as cool and collected, yet it lacks any semblance of warmth or genuine excitement.

Treatment Style: As the evening progresses, Sweden’s insistence on itinerary leads to a sterile atmosphere devoid of spontaneity. Rather than engaging in organic conversations, he tends to follow a script he’s developed, frequently interrupting the flow of laughter with calculated remarks. Should a conversation drift into emotional territory, he redirects it toward efficiency; if she opens up about her day, he promptly replies, “That’s interesting. Let’s move on to the next agenda point.” This approach undercuts any attempts at building intimacy.

Social Dynamics: Female clients often find themselves frustrated, trying to ignite some playful energy. Many attempts at humor are stifled by Sweden’s unyielding seriousness, who maintains that emotional ebbs and flows are inefficient. As they navigate the rigid structure of their evening, many clients may feel as though they’re participating in a clinical evaluation rather than a romantic escapade. Even attempts to engage him in light, flirty banter are met with a polite smile and a reshaping of the conversation back to logistics.

The Outcomes: More often than not, female clients exit feeling satisfied in terms of logistics but yearning for emotional depth. They leave having experienced a caricature of what romance should be—well-ordered but utterly soulless. Sweden’s focus on structure creates a hollow experience, leading most to reflect on the disconnection they felt even amidst the polish. In pursuit of the perfect evening, they instead find themselves missing the thrill of spontaneity and emotional connection, realizing that meticulous planning didn’t account for the unpredictable nature of genuine human interaction.

[voided-selfships]

Favorite scene/storyline with your F/O in canon? Or in your personal canon with them? with Bojack

GRABS BOJACK. YES YOU ASKED ABOUT THE RIGHT GUY /SILLY going off of personal canon. And by personal I mean selfship. True Timeline let's fucking GO!

My favorite scene? Forgive me in this gets long imma be talking about a LOT of different shit because I cannot simply choose ONE

So I'm going by season. Heart emoji

Gods where to start, Our A-Story is a 'D' Story? /silly [we all know it would've been The Telescope but surprisingly Warren veto'd going on that trip. (Unsurprisingly, he missed Herb to death but was not ready to be in a room with both him and BoJack.) I digress.]

Anyway it's my favorite just because of the idea that Warren gets out of bed to see BoJack passed out on the couch before immediately seeing AND hearing news of the D from the Hollywoo(d) sign being stolen???

[That "What- what- what the fuck did you do?"

"What did I do? How do you know you didn't do it?"

"BoJack I was actually sober last night-"

"Sure, sure-"

"And you know I can barely carry half of my weight- how the hell did you do this??"

Anyway, the 90s Trio (BoJack, Mr. Peanutbutter, and Warren) scrambling to get rid of this fucking letter is- this is why it's my favorite. Like comedically??? Yes. Yes. Classic Season 1 Shenanigans.

Season 2? Brand New Couch or The Shot. Brand New Couch...Warren trying his best to be supportive of BoJack's uh....brand new attitude!! Even if its weird- not a bad weird! Just not something he's used to! He tries to be supportive for the entire time BoJack works on Secretariat. [Really I need to draw a comic for Brand New Couch because fuck it's so so good. They make me insane. Moving on.]

Season 3? Not even a Question. Episodes 9-12. I don't even wanna ELABORATE. [Warren trying to console BoJack after the conversation he has with Todd only to be kicked out. Getting the news about Sarah Lynn's death and wondering what he could've done differently. Wondering if he could've been there to prevent it. Knowing that to an extent it was BoJack's fault but not understanding the full story- in the end just wanting and needing to be there for him]

Season 4....The Old Sugarman Place. It's already my favorite episode but in Lore Context? Warren goes with BoJack to his family's lake house- which opens the flood gates to a lot more...person bonding. Which they really hadn't done before. Stories about BoJack's family that Warren only heard snippets of- now more in full, a deeper insight into his friend [crush?] They kiss this episode [and it's a lot more meaningful than any other time. They did it just to do it- not as a lead up to sex] Then of course this season has his mom moving in which was. So so so fun. [And Hollyhock! Warren had a feeling that wasn't his kid but didn't want to say anything. Otherwise enjoyed spending time around her- gave him that weird domestic feeling he oftentime tries to ignore when he's around BoJack for too long]

Season 5... they get together in season five. Free Churro has to be my favorite. If only because they don't go to the funeral together, so what ends up happening is Warren ends up in the right room and after a solid 15 minutes has to scour the entire place to look for BoJack. [He does miss a good chuck of his speech finds him halfway through just to listen instead of telling him it was the wrong place. And Beatrice's funeral was so so empty, no one was there aside from BoJack and him]

Season 6. What episode ISN'T my favorite lmao. I guess I can talk about whenever BoJack gets back- so The Face of Depression? I guess lore wise it's important. When BoJack gets back Warren is startled but not upset- goes with him [not by choice] on his trip around the country. It's mostly fine. They have a fight about...a lot of things later in the season [I wanna say...episodes 11 and 12.] Break off- not up! Just off. Don't hear from eachother again until Angela and The View From Halfway Down. Then don't see eachother again until Nice While It Lasted. [Which!!! All my favorite favorite episodes by the way! Fuck!! /pos]

I just realized I started talking about lore instead of my favorite scenes so whoops fjebdjdjd I'm just so passionate [insane and mentally unwell] about them

[violetskies65]

The Boondocks & Cultural Relevance

Well, Aqua Teen Hunger Force got old.

I needed something new, or something bingeworthy. Unlike most people, I pretty much binge anything with little to no actual regards for plot development and continuity. I have been working a lot, and just relaxing and going to bed at night to various adult animation blocks & adult swim shows.

I was then woken up at 6am by Robert "Grand-dad" Freeman yelling and berating the beloved Riley.

Well, I gotta say, I have enjoyed my time spent watching The Boondocks, and it's view on pop culture and version of events. Some plot lines themselves can be "dated", but actually still hold true and remain valid to modern issues, especially those plaguing the black community. A community in which my white ass is not apart of.

Nevertheless, most if not all jokes land to me. But that is just me, someone who grew up in a painfully extremely white area, who has had to learn about true racial issues via the internet, because I mean, we know how modern school glosses over them. With this being said, both the Boondocks comic strip and cartoon have solidified a place in black entertainment, and I feel as a show it goes further than others in using it's voice to rain concern about cultural concepts and issues. I mean, there was a whole episode surrounding the CEO of B.E.T, and how it is affecting black youth in America.

The Boondocks also parallels a lot with the real world, in a comedic fashion. One episode even referenced famed southern racist singer, Johnny Rebel, as "Jimmy Rebel", in which he teams up with Ruckus. I mean upon further research you could just see that even though the plot is just an outlandish "ruckus is a self hating racist" plotline, it ties back into our sad reality and past with racism, as at one point, a spiteful human being.

On a lighter note, we also have episodes within The Boondocks that are direct ties to figures such as Tyler Perry, Barack Obama, & Oprah. But really, it is a must watch, and there is more to the series other than "Well, Well, Well".... iykyk

[kusuguricafe]

Cloud 9 - Squealing Santa 2K22

A/N: Surprise surprise, @writingwitharlo! I'm your squealing santa this year!! I hope you're having a very happy holiday season and enjoy your gift ❤️💙

I was listening to my renga playlist as I was writing this and the second I finished, the palm tree song started playing. There truly couldn't have been better comedic timing.

Summary: Langa takes Reki on a snowboarding trip! After a long day of teaching Reki the slopes (like, ropes? get it?), the two go back to their log cabin to unwind. Reki's a little upset he's not getting the hang of it as quickly as when he taught Langa how to skateboard, but Langa finds a way to cheer him up!

Semi-inspired by this adorable renga comic

Word Count: ~1.2K

Characters: lee!Langa, ler!Reki ❄️⚙️

“Argh! Itatataa…”

“Reki! Daijoubu??”

“Yeah…”

“Yokatta… I think that’s enough for today. Want to go back to the cabin? I can make you some hot chocolate.”

“Sure. Thanks, Langa.”

Langa offered his hand and Reki cautiously took it, doing his best to stabilize himself as he attempted to stand back up. It’s so much easier to get up after wiping out on a skateboard—the damn thing isn’t stuck on your feet! He almost made it up, when the snowboard suddenly slipped out from under him, dragging them both back down. Langa landed firmly on top of Reki, knocking the wind out of the latter.

Langa chuckled and rolled off of Reki onto the packed snow. Reki didn’t move for a minute or so, still trying to catch his breath.

“S-sorry…” Reki managed to say.

“Don’t worry about it. You clearly got the rough end of that fall. Here, lemme help you take that off.”

Langa sat up and crawled over to Reki’s feet and removed the snowboard. Langa offered his hand once more and Reki reluctantly took it, avoiding eye contact.

“C’mon, let’s head back. I’ll carry this for you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Okay.”

Langa held the snowboard under his left arm and grabbed Reki’s left hand with his right. Reki was looking down at the snow, dejectedly. Langa gently pulled him along, back towards the cabin.

Once they arrived, Reki plopped himself down onto the couch and began taking off some of his heavier winter gear. Langa put the snowboard down, took off his boots and his jacket. Then, he went straight to the kitchen and started making some hot chocolate for Reki, just how he likes it.

After it was done, he went back to the living room to see a moping Reki. He sighed to himself, then walked over and placed the cute snowman mug full of hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of him.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

Langa took a seat across from him. The two sat in silence for a couple minutes, Reki occasionally taking a sip.

“You did a great job out there,” Langa broke the silence. “Much improved from yesterday.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did! You only wiped out like twenty times instead of thirty!”

“I don’t need your sympathy. I know I suck.”

Langa paused. He never really knew what to do when Reki got like this.

“You don’t suck.”

“I do.”

“You really don—”

“Just drop it, okay? I don’t want to hear it.” Reki finally looked up just in time to see Langa’s countenance change from encouraging to mildly hurt. Oops.

“O-oh, I mean, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine. I get it.”

Now it was Reki’s turn to panic. Overwhelmed with emotion, he stood up and said, “I. Just give me a minute. I’m gonna go change.”

“Okay.”

Reki went to leave, came to a halt about halfway to the bedroom, turned back around, and went back to pick up his hot chocolate. Langa saw the mug disappear out of the corner of his eye. He smiled.

A few minutes later, Langa knocked on the bedroom door.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Langa gingerly entered the bedroom. He saw Reki sitting on the bed in sweats, scrolling on his phone. Langa walked over and sat down next to him. Reki glanced in his direction, but that was all.

Langa started again, “You know, learning to skateboard after already knowing how to snowboard is like learning to drive a car after already knowing how to drive a semi truck. This is much more difficult.”

“Really?” Reki looked up from his phone in Langa’s direction.

“Yeah. Turning a snowboard requires very specific muscle control. It’s not intuitive at all.”

“That makes sense. I just thought I’d be able to get the hang of it faster. I guess it’s a lot harder than I thought.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Langa said, gently nudging Reki’s side with his elbow.

“EEK!” Reki squeaked, dropping his phone onto the bed.

“Oh! I’m sorry! Did I hit a bruise or something?”

“N-no, s’not that.” Reki looked away again.

“Hey! Stop doing that. I want to see your pretty eyes.” Langa grabbed Reki’s chin and pulled it towards him. Said pretty eyes widened in surprise.

“So what’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” Reki pouted.

Langa laughed. “You’re adorable, you know. Even when you’re repeatedly face planting in the snow.”

“L-Langa!”

“I’ve been so much happier after meeting you. You’re just the light I needed in my life.” Langa continued, still squishing Reki’s now bright red cheeks in his hand.

“Hah? Where is this coming from??”

“Just thinking out loud. Being around you is like having a little sun in my pocket. You’re so important to me. I, I lov—”

“STOP! P-please stop, I can’t take this,” Reki covered his eyes with his forearm.

“What did I just say about hiding your beautiful amber eyes from me!?”

Reki lowered his arm and began frantically looking around anywhere but Langa’s gaze. “I’m sorry!! I’m sorry, you were just looking at me so, so…!”

Langa interrupted him with a chaste kiss. He let go of his cheeks.

Reki gaped at him. Reki.exe has stopped working.

“Reki? Reki??” Langa waved his hand in front of Reki’s face. No reaction. He shook his shoulders gently. Reki blinked, closed his mouth, and shook his head.

“Wha… did you… did you just…?”

“Y-yeah, I hope that was okahAHAHAHAY!!”

Reki suddenly pounced, digging his fingers into Langa’s sides.

“Ahahahahaha! Reheheheki!! Whyhyhy!?”

Reki was blushing like mad. “You can’t just do that out of nowhere!!”

“Wh-why are you—AHAhahahaha nohohooo!”

Reki was digging into Langa’s tummy now. He quickly realized this was not helping his blush go down. Since when was Langa this ticklish?

“R-Reheheki! Pleheheeease wHA *snort* HAHAHA *snort* NAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!”

Reki had begun drilling his thumbs into Langa’s hip bones.

“I-I’ve never heard you snort before!”

“Shuhuhut AHAha uhUHUP! S-stahahahahap!” Langa was blushing now, too.

“Where else are you ticklish? Here?” Reki squeezed the tops of Langa’s thighs experimentally.

“OHO MY GOHOHOHOD! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOO! NonONONO NOT THAHAAAAA!!”

Langa practically screeched as Reki reached the spot right above his knees. Reki reddened impossibly deeper at that. He let up.

“A-are you alright?”

“Yeheheeyeaha. Th-that’s just a really bad spot.”

“Are there worse!?”

Langa covered his face with his hands.

“There are??”

“Mahaybe…”

Seizing the opportunity, Reki reached up into Langa’s underarms.

“AAAAAAAAAHHAHAHA WAITWAITWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAIT!!!”

“No way, did I actually find it?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHEHES!! REHEHEKI PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Langa screamed, yanking his arms back down in an attempt to protect himself. This, of course, revealed his bright pink face and tear stained cheeks.

Reki continued for a little while longer until Langa began pounding the bed with his fist, his laughter going silent. Langa laid there panting with his eyes closed. Reki leaned down and kissed him back.

Langa’s eyes shot back open, just in time to see Reki beaming down at him. Langa smiled back.

“...Sorry for making you worried earlier.” Reki said.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re okay now.”

Reki reached out his hand, which Langa gratefully took. He flung himself back up and wrapped his arms around Reki.

“I love you.”

“I… I love you too.”

[teslacoils-and-hubris]

best part(s) about tf2?

Well firstly it's a very good game to get into very silly hijinks! Tons of comedic potential from a game that has both taunts and killbinds and blowing people into little pieces that stick around for a while

But for me the big thing is the characters. Both in design and general execution they're so well developed and unique and interesting that I struggle to come up with something to compare it too. (Homestuck comes to mind as far as each character being so unique and well developed personality wise, but I still think tf2 wins out there personally)

Like. You take literally any character and pretty much just by looking at them you know what you get. Which makes sense since their design team had to make each class recognizable from silhouette and fast paced game play. Medic Looks like a crazy doctor, soldier looks like well.. a Solider lol but they have such big distinct personalities that it's really to latch onto them. You put Any of these guys in a scenario and Stuff is GOING to happen as a result you know? Even just in game stuff like cosmetics and voice lines add so much to the characters outside the comics (which I only mention cause most tumblr fans don't actually play the game but enjoy the comics lol) and they didn't just give this treatment to the dudes! Pauling and admin and zhanna all have such big fantastic personalities and absolutely none of them are reduced to the Woman Character you know?

I guess to sum it all up my favorite part about tf2 is how all the characters could very well be real people. From design to personality they're just... people you know? They aren't perfect and they're silly and often over the top because tf2 is at its heart a comedysilly game, but they feel just so real. Scout is an annoying self obsessed loser but he also draws and is willing to admit his flaws when he genuinely needs help (expedition date). Heavy is a big emotionless Russian who isn't great with English, but he has a degree in Russian literature and also names his guns and has beds for them. Engineer seems like the normal polite texas but his go to solution is 'add more gun' and he cut off his own hand to replace it with a robotic hand his grandpa invented. Pauling works 364 days a year pitting two sides of a war against eachother for reasons she doesn't really understand and she likes to go to gun shows when she can. Idk they're all just really strongly realized characters and that really draws people in

[vicshush]

[ID: A 3-page comic about the gifting consequences of naughtiness in a comedic fantasy horror setting.

The title of the comic reads: "Sota Deathmonger and the Slaughter before Giftmas". An accompanying text box reads "Once upon a time, there was a land of snow and ice. Its cities were adorned with human thralls frozen to death in the streets, as people were preparing to celebrate the day of Giftmas.. but one little princess wasn't sharing in the season's merriment..." The title text is over a snow-topped scene outside a medievalish castle, with a frozen, iced over humanoid figure in the foreground, decorated with bits of greenery and round, red ornaments. The characters in the rest of the comic have pallid white hair and skin, mouths full of pointy teeth, horizontal pointy ears, and are mostly dressed in fancy doublets and dresses. A courtier in red and a high, ruffled collar addresses a woman in a ruched red dress, sitting on a couch and drinking tea. The courtier says "Uh, my queen? Princess Sota divided all the servants' children into groups and now she's making them play war..." The queen smiles, tipping her head indulgently and says "Aww, how cute." The courtier's expression is an exaggerated grimace, showing off his sharp upper teeth, with wide eyes cast to one side, one eyebrow raised and one lowered, lower eyelids puckered, conveying extreme dubiousness, as he says "She gave them real knives."

The next page shows the glaring, wild-eyed, bloodly-knifed, shouting Princess Sota as she brandishes her weapon and harrangues her playthings playmates. "Forward! Forward my legions! Cut them down and bring me their ears!" She rants at a pair of frightened, fanged children, one of whom holds a knife over the chest of the other. "You there! Less sobbing, more stabbing!" The child with the knife protests "He- he surrendered!" Sota retorts "I said at the start that's not allowed!" More unhappily shouting children holding knives can be seen in the background.

Sota, tucked into a large bed, is lectured by the queen. "Sota, what you did today was a very naughty thing!" Sota replies smugly, "Thanks, mother". The queen responds, annoyed, "No, you don't get it. Naughty children don't get any gifts for Giftmas! In fact, the Giftbearer only brings them a lump of hard obsidian rock." Pulling her covers half over her face and glaring with wide eyes, outraged, Sota says "B- but that's not fair!" The queen replies, "Those are the rules missy, there's nothing you can do about it." Still glaring from behind her blanket, Sota mutters, "We'll see about that."

A text box narrates, "That night, Princess Sota snuck out of her bedroom, to go and visit the court witch..." Leaning around a door, a large sword hilt visible over her shoulder, Sota yells "Ghurzubak! I need your help." A hunched woman in a brown, hooded cloak sits, smoking from a long pipe. She has vertical pupils, yellow eyes and teeth, and six fingers on her visible hand. Rats with humanoid faces crawl on her arm and shoulder. Both the pipe and a brazier behind her emit thick green smoke. She chides Sota, "I got no more gunpowder to spare. You used it all on that squire!" Sota scoffs, "I don't care about that! I want to find the Giftbearer!"

Sota, her arms crossed and her chin lifted haughtily, continues, "You see, I intend to defeat him in single combat and force him to rescinde his rules about the naughty not getting any gifts!" The witch replies, "Makes sense."

The next two panels are in green tones, their borders a warped, smoke-like ripple. The witch looms over the princess. "Little princess, the Giftbearer doesn't live in this world! He dwells in a place beyond the material realm, a parallel land out of sync with our own. You must shed your physical form, and embrace your astral self, to enter it." Sota asks "How do I do that?"

The witch replies "Drugs. Are you old enough to do drugs?" Sota replies, "I'm ten." The witch responds, "Good. But that's when I started, too."

A text box narrates, "Thus Ghurzubak, who had acquired her arcane knowledge in studying under the watchful evil eye of malevolent were-witches, living deep down the cavernous entrails of the jagged mountains, brewed a putrid herb concoction made palatable by adding milk and honey as sweeteners." Sota, sitting cross-legged in a chair, complains, "But that's just tea! I thought I was doing drugs!" The witch holds out a shallow bowl from which purple steam rises, retorting "You got to work your way up, young lady. Now shut your maw and drink."

/end ID]

A comic for the holidays. Part 1

[bokubear]

hq boys “teaching” you how to kiss

feat. atsumu miya + ushijima wakatoshi + suna rintarou + akaashi keiji

warnings ; kissing ? explainable

notes ; toshi’s big hands aaaa

+ATSUMU never imagined himself to have you sitting in his lap, wrapped around his finger so languidly. well, that is what his kind took this situation as, while you on the other hand wanted to get this memorable lesson over with. especially because of his insistent teasing. “you really came to me ? it must mean because i’m pretty good huh.” and that quirk of his thick brows, irritating to an incurable degree. “no. you’re just my boyfriend, it’d be wrong if i did it with anyone else.” his face turned flat. “oh right.” then lighting up, he beckoned you closer. “so just kiss ? like you said ?” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at his lips. “mhmm, ill guide you from there.” — “alright.” and so you did, till you both became a frantic mess of breath, well, until he was satisfied.

+USHIJIMA throughout his life was characterized as extremely strong of powerful. to you this never seemed to get old, thanks to the difference of how he was with you. and don’t get me wrong, he was still extremely powerful and strong. but maybe the way he would caress you skin, ushering you to close your eyes when you fell asleep each night, like some sort of rare porcelain doll. comedic almost, but adorable. “you want me to teach you how to kiss ?” you nodded your head fervently, patting the stool on front of you which the ace heftily became seated upon. “i can’t say i’ll be any better than you but i can try.” large, stable fingertips grasping you waist. the way he kissed reminded you of a frank sinatra song, fly me to the moon was it ? like honey or syrup dripping off each syllable he spoke. enchanting.

+SUNA could not be more smug about this ordeal. he was quick to oblige, eagerly scooting to hop into bed with you. all curled up like a spoiled tabby cat. “but i have one condition-“nah nah. conditions are no fun, who needs requirements anyways, let’s just make out.” you groaned, rubbing your temples. “thats the thing, i need you to teach me.” his lips parted momentarily, only to close with thought. “ah.. alright then, just close your eyes and go with the flow until you get it, let me take the lead.” like usual occasions, a heated make-out pursued, but suna kept his promise with ‘leading’ you. pointing out mistakes and things that he found unnecessary to make the event more enjoyable to the both of you. smirking so proud when he separated to find you out of breath. i mean you looked so cute, how could he not love it ?

+AKAASHI had his eyes trained upon the pages of “the strange case of dr. jekyll and mr. hyde” by robert louis stevenson, apparently entranced by the ‘late night’ chapter he’d been droning on and on about while cooking with you. “hey keiji, could you teach me how to kiss ?” touching your lips with a finger, you quickly became amused at his dark eyebrows lifting comically up to his forehead, face flushing just like it has many times before. “you-me-teach to kiss ?” he stammered, giving you the ‘is this a joke ?’ by akaashi keiji look ( he definitely rocked that look ). “yes, unless you don’t want to.” you clicked your tongue plopping down beside him. “i mean .. yes. i don’t mind, it’s just kind of unexpected.” a smile pulled at his lips, holding a fond look at you. “now come here, ill be gentle i promise.” featherlight touches and words of praise ricocheted through you, sending you into the clouds. he’s something else.

-maak

plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited

[aarcanechaoss]

Hey ;)

Can you do a headcanon with the BC characters and their so says their safeword

Characters - Zora , Nozel , Jack

👀 are you the same person??? Or is this a hilarious coincidence? -> Anyway off we go … I’m saying they got overstimulated because I don’t want anyone getting hurt okay

Zora Ideale

You have never seen this man freeze so fast, the second that word left your lips. He knew that having a safe word was necessary and he always thought he was careful but he still stayed frozen above you, waiting for you to say something else. The panic leaves when you say you were just overstimulated and that he hadn’t hurt you… because he’d rather die than do that.

Nozel Silva

He has trust issues with himself, the second you say the safe word he is out of you and on the other side of the bed. It’s almost comical… if he wasn’t genuinely afraid that he’d hurt you. However once he realised you were just overstimulated slowly creeped forward and pressed kisses to your face to help you feel better.

Jack the Ripper

Panic. Just straight panic from head to toe, he’s no longer in the mood for anything but giving you cuddles and saying he loves you over and over again. Gets you a glass of water and helps to clean you up almost immediately once you both calm down. Then you both cuddle until you fall asleep.

Osamu Dazai

He pauses and scans you over, checking to see if he had hurt you in any way. He even has a mental checklist of everything you’d both just done before moving away to help clean you up. Your comfort was his priority after all.

Ranpo Edogawa

He had no idea what to do. How do you respond, what do you ask? For being the smartest person in the agency he really didn’t have great people skills. (He does have good tongue skills though… sorry) He immediately stills and just lays there with you until you are able to calm down, he hasn’t left you at all during this- still being quite comfortable in there.

Edgar Allen Poe

You think Nozel panicking is comedic wait till you see Poe. He’s somehow managed to fall out of the bed in his panic at the word. He’s on the floor apologising and asking what you need. It makes you laugh actually which is good too before sleepily asking him to help clean you up and cuddle for a bit. Then you can talk.

Chuuya Nakahara

He goes from king of the sheets to the most precious man ever as he gently moves away to help clean you up. He goes so far as to set a bath for you with a glass of water and your favourite snack. He also gives you a million kisses as he helps you relax. Man loves you big time

[cococookiedraws]

We all know where Nathalie's loyalties really lie.

The Agrestes: [Master List]

[First] | [Previous] | Here: Ep. 13 | [Next]

Ko-Fi

—

Series description: What if Cat Noir, Hawk Moth and Mayura knew each other’s secret identities? This comedic comic series explores the shenanigans they would go through.

—

(Alternate Text under the cut)

[Alternate text for screen reader: The Agrestes Episode 13. A miraculous comic series by Coco Cookie Draws. Updates every Thursday. Frame 1. Adrien sits up in his bed, his hair messy. His pillow says number one Ladyfan. “I need a midnight snack,” he says. He’s wearing ladybug spot pajamas. Plagg sleeps on his pillow that says heart camembert, and holds cheese as he sleeps. Frame 2. Adrien brings a glass of chocolate milk to the table. Gabriel is already sitting at the table with a glass of wines. Frame 3. Adrien sits down. Nathalie walks into the room, to the surprise of Gabriel and Adrien. Frame 4. Nathalie looks dead tired as she pours a cup of coffee. Adrien claps, looking really happy as he notices Nathalie’s Cat Noir pajama top. Gabriel takes a sip of his wine and says “traitor” under his breath. End of text.]

[happyely]

@dabisqueen, with this post of yours you made me think of a lot of comical, fluff and even slightly smutty (a pinch😏) scenes. A thousand thanks!

In this case I focused a little more on Dabi, I'll write about Touya later hehe! Although I predict that these ten points can become more!

So whoever has suggestions or advice I'm happy to read all of them!

Dabi:

#1. The first comedic scene that comes to mind is a bit of a classic, him walking into the bathroom by accident while you're taking off your clothes to take a shower. At first he is dazed and holds his breath it's the first time he sees you without your oversized swimsuit that you always wear, then he hopes you don't notice his presence because he is keen not to get a shoe or a shampoo in his face. Needless to say, Twice's voice freezes your blood, his split personality ruined Dabi's mimicry. You caught him on the side of the door staring at you. You blushed quite a bit. You grabbed the tablecloth to cover yourself and threw his shoe, which he narrowly avoided. You yelled at him to leave closing the door and sitting on the floor. You noticed the bulge in his pants, and now you want to die of embarrassment.

#2. You wake up at night in the den, thirsty and hot from summer that has come too soon and however much you struggle with that urge you finally give in and get out of bed. You need to get something cold ASAP or you risk passing out from being too hot. You didn't expect to find Dabi along the corridor. Your eyes met and you're sure he saw the blush on your cheeks. God is in boxers, nothing but boxers and he is smiling at you, the sweat falls in small droplets on his toned muscles, the boxers do not cover the v of his lower abdomen at all, in fact perhaps they are a little lower due to the heat , hair is pulled back and her blue eyes are even sharper than in the morning, she looks at you with that grin she always has on her face knowing you're embarrassed about it. He joins you and puts his arm on your shoulder to drag you to the kitchen, an iced drink is needed to beat the heat he said whispering it in your ear. The temperature has increased by at least 10 degrees, but it's not the outside temperature, it's yours.

#3. It's a bit of a paradox what's happening, neither of you thought you'd end up stuck to each other because of the bastards who were chasing you. You were on a mission to get information on a couple of new Hero facilities, Shigaraki sent you two for a clean job. You had the information but the alarm went off and you hid inside the closest closet, fitting in perfectly. Damn the skintight, high-cut swimsuit you wore and Dabi's for being too small on the waist and light on fabric. Giran had skimped too much on the fabrics to use, how could that thing be fireproof and feel everything at the same time. Now you're sure you know perfectly the position of his staples, the texture of his skin and his size and you're even more sure that you have no more secrets from him as long as your bodies are joined to hide.

#4. It's cold, you don't have heating and for this you are forced to go to your flatmate. Dabi is a heater and he is the only one there at the moment along with Shigaraki but your boss would die instead of going to the arsonist who is his lieutenant to ask for some heat. So you knock on Dabi's door and you almost have a heart attack, how the hell does he manage to stay shirtless if it's -4 degrees outside. You see him watching you, with the blanket pulled over your shoulders and the pillow pressed against your chest, then he takes your arm and pulls him into his room. He takes the blanket off you and throws the pillow on his bed and then it's your turn. Dabi said he knows a very specific way to warm you up and the clothes don't let you warm up quickly. It's the first time you've slept naked next to him, and you know for a fact that he's holding back.

#5. Shit. That was just the term that helped you better describe the pains you were experiencing. You hated them, they were always constant and they just kept getting bigger. And the only way to bear them and not take drugs (because you were always without them) was to keep Dabi's hand on your belly. Your periods didn't give you a break even for a second, but at least his warmth helped you bear them. "It's becoming a habit that I really enjoy." Dabi had said, the breath on his neck had sent a shiver down your spine. He grinned seeing you in those conditions, in which you were completely dependent on him, and he also loved to tease you by saying that just one yes was enough and he would make the pain go away. You tug at his cheeks, being careful not to catch the staples and burnt skin, but the back pains hit you and won't let you finish with him. Feel his hand move to where it hurts and the warmth to stem the pain. This relationship of yours is becoming addictive.

#6. You are soaked and cold. The downpour caught you off guard and now you are inside a cave to take shelter. Capturing Machia was much more complicated than expected, and despite your quirks you could do nothing against him. You took everything off how wet you were to the core now you have your backs. Somehow you noticed that Dabi's cheeks are red, and it makes you think the cold thinking that he has fallen ill. So you turn around and lean against him to understand his temperature. He gasps and tries to keep you away, but you insist so much that you fall on the leaves inside the cave. Dabi is above you, his face red and on fire like yours, now you understand why he didn't want to be touched, and that awareness presses on your belly and it burns.

#7. You never noticed Dabi's gaze while you talk to Hawks. However, the Hero noticed it very well and stopped putting his hands on you while he is talking. Now he seems to act more respectful and an expression of fear appears on his face as Dabi walks up to you two and puts his arm around your shoulders. The two start to argue, or rather Dabi attacks Hawks saying that all these questions about you are quite inappropriate. Only now do you begin to notice the Alpha-like behavior marking Dabi's territory. He is jealous of you. You blush in one shot trying to reassure him, but his hand on your side is possessive and this immobilizes you but at the same time you understand that you are important to him. Dabi is getting naked. You know how private he is about him and that even with your closest companions he keeps a low profile, but that gesture makes your heart beat. It means that you are worth so much to him that you risk showing his emotions.

#8. Cold Fever has always been a bastard twist caused by his quirk. Heat loss was something he hated more than anything else, or rather it was the second thing he hated after hallucinations. Those were the absolute worst thing. The only thing he could do was wait for it to pass. So it seemed normal to you to go to Dabi to keep him company, checking that his temperature didn't drop further. You never thought you'd be pulled into his bed because you had to warm him, you winced at his cold hands on your bare hips and held him closer to you, you could hear him moaning in his sleep about something that affected his family. You didn't say anything, you just kept silent trying to get him to sleep peacefully.

#9. Fighting side by side was proving to be very profitable for the two of you. Dabi's attacks covered you smoothly so that you could hit the enemy without any problems. You had to impress a mafia boss who wanted to ally with you from Lov. You turned to Dabi to smile at him and see if your teammates were okay. You would never have imagined receiving a spanking from the mafia boss - a resounding smack that made all your comrades immobilize you - who made you jump into Dabi's arms. That blow hurt you and it will certainly have left you with the mark. You feel Dabi's muscles quiver as the boss makes a comment about you that you were a good way to finish the deal. "Burn him." You said aloud, then added: "Burn him now Dabi." And the man who held you close didn't hesitate to carry out your order. No one said anything, in fact they're happy you're okay and not in business with the man Dabi just burned.

#10. You would never expect Dabi to hide so many things about his character and his past and reveal them to you, for some things you really tried not to laugh at how cute and tender they were. Only then did you understand how much he truly trusts you and how you managed to enter his heart and make him think about starting over in a different way. And that night you realize what a lover you have found yourself.

What's the funniest scene you can imagine with Dabi/Touya?

[jimilter]

riptide (m) | k.sj. | (1/2)

one | two

pairing:  kim seokjin x reader

rating:  m (18+)

genre:  angst | smut | established relationship!au

summary:  It takes a foolishly trivial incident to unravel how astonishingly little you and Seokjin actually understand each other. It has you questioning your relationship, and him? Well, he’s questioning his whole life.

warnings:  swearing + implied alcohol consumption + realistic relationship problems + mentions of insecurities, jealousy, complicated mental dispositions + emotional distress + sexual situations (unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talking, a bit of manhandling, fingering) + mentions of masturbation + a ton of miscommunication (refer to the summary smh)

word count: 12.3 k

note:  it’s FINALLY done, y’all! came up to be a monster of 25k words, so i decided to split it into two. i’ll drop the other part next week. this took a lot more time, energy and re-writing than i’d thought it would. i began writing this in january - it’s been five excruciating months! 😩 i really hope y'all will like this one~ 🥺💜

💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

riptide (n) – a dangerous area of strongly moving water in the sea, where two or more currents meet.

Lady, running down to the riptide - Taken away to the dark side - I wanna be your left hand man.

The turn of events has been so fucking hilariously impossible that Seokjin has literally been rendered speechless. Which doesn't happen often, mind you. What can he do, he is just extremely witty—he always has something to say about everything, usually and preferably with impeccable comic timing. Especially when it comes to you. 

This, though. This completely baffling scenario, right in front of him, has him gaping like a goldfish with no words to say.

"Final call, Jin. Gawk at me for five more seconds and I walk out of here," you threaten, an elegant arm poised at your waist and gorgeously plump lips pressed into a thin line. "Say something?"

And Seokjin still cannot formulate a single word, because what the actual fuck? How can you even think that he could ever— 

"Alright." You catwalk out of his bedroom, leaving him blinking into space.

He jumps the next second, leaping after you. "Honey! How would—what—I can never—why do I even have to say—will you wait? You’re being so ridiculous, right now, I hope you know that!"

If he wasn't in such a fix, Seokjin would physically cringe at his speech. It was better when he was just gaping.

“Honey! Stop being so overdramatic, you’ve known me and you’ve known Jimin! For years! Stop acting like you seriously don’t know what happened, here!”

You don't stop, though, gliding down the stairs and hopping over the haphazardly tossed items in the living room as you exit out of the house.

And then you're gone. You're really gone, over something so fucking ridiculous, that Seokjin still has no words to say.

All he knows is that his girlfriend of five years has finally gone crazy enough to jump to conclusions of such high magnitude of stupidity.

And, that Park Jimin is a dead man.

It all begins on an unsuspecting Sunday morning, when the entire house is smelling of weed, stale booze and some worse fluids. 

Last night, Seokjin vacated his own bedroom for the boys to smoke up in at Jimin's request, because that is the only well ventilated room of the house. He spent the night in Yoongi's room with earplugs in, dead to all the chaos in the house—as he often does on party nights—to catch up on his beauty sleep. He cannot afford any unbecoming dark circles or, God forbid, breakouts.

And no, that's not a comedic moment, he really does need his face looking perfect this week for reasons outside of personal gratification too, because he has a shoot on Tuesday. He especially took a leave from his part-time job at the Mexican restaurant downtown where his girlfriend, you, work full-time, on a Tuesday—saying goodbye to all the amazing tips always forwarded to the cooks on Taco Tuesday—for this. Nothing would mess up his face.

Not to mention that one very important audition for a very gigantic project he's been looking forward to. They're yet to announce the date, but it would be this very month. He hasn't really told you much about it, planning a huge surprise for later when—if, actually, but he prefers to be unrealistically optimistic in every situation possible—he bags the coveted position, at the end. He hasn't really decided upon much, other than a long drive and a picnic date to one of those grasslands on the city's outskirts that you love so much. Oh, and bringing up the prospect of moving in together in an apartment with just the two of you. 

He's pretty certain you must not remember him raving about the opportunity, because it has been months since he did that. He then proceeded to be covert about all the mini auditions and trainings he underwent to prepare for the final audition, and he is confident you have not connected the dots.

But that is all a discussion for later — he doesn't even know when he would be auditioning. 

The crux of the whole matter is that he needs to keep looking as flawless as he can until that audition happens.

So he has slept like a baby, last night, while the rest of his friends have partied, including two out of three of his housemates—Hoseok and Jimin—along with Taehyung and Taehyung's girl. Namjoon had foregone attendance in lieu of the Halloween party, next weekend, that he knows he would definitely be forced to attend because Hoseok is hosting. Yoongi, his third and final housemate, escaped the house altogether to spend a night of music-making with Jungkook in his dorm.

So, in the morning, when Seokjin is moving around his kitchen that seems to have been hit by a tornado, checking the fridge and mentally praying that his baggie of smoothie ingredients is still in good shape—a scream echoes around the house.

Seokjin freezes. That sounded a lot like…you.

Immediately alert, he runs out of the kitchen and into the drawing room. Hoseok is hanging upside down on one of the couches, something that looks a lot like undigested white sauce pasta puddles on the ground, inches from his new, fiery red hair. Seokjin grimaces.

"Kim Seokjin!" your screech tears the silence.

Seokjin twists on his heels, looking up in the direction of his bedroom. It really is you. And you're in his bedroom—the room he did not occupy last night.

God only knows what kind of a scene you have walked in on. He hopes these idiots didn’t have an orgy up there, although he really can’t put it past them.

Not waiting another second, Seokjin rushes up the stairs and pushes through the doors to his bedroom. His mouth falls open on an audible gasp.

You stand next to his bed, dressed up elegantly in a navy dress that ends above your knees—which makes him wonder if you are here for an impromptu breakfast date—with one hand clutching his duvet that has uncovered what looks like…

…a head of long, dirty blonde hair.

Who the fuck?

In his bed?

"Hey, Honey!" Seokjin's voice is a squeak. "You… you here for a date?" he manages out of a suddenly parched throat.

You roll your eyes. "Uh huh. A fact you would've known if you looked at the texts I sent you last night." Your eyes are narrow at him. "This explains why you didn't, though. Busy night, Jin?" 

He balks at your words, at a loss. How could you even think it was him, when you know all about Park Jimin and his escapades?! 

Seokjin's blood boils. Fucking Jimin. There is going to be blood on Seokjin’s hands. 

In the midst of it, the blonde head shifts. 

Soon after, as you two watch, a pair of brown eyes with smudged makeup emerge from inside Seokjin's bed—and the audacity?! There’s makeup all over his covers! Jimin will pay for the dry cleaning. The face is followed by a whole, tiny woman of five-something feet who is, thankfully, covered in a shirt.

Seokjin is almost not breathing when the blonde starts to give him a dreamy smile, his gaze switching between her and you. And it’s extremely stupid, because he hasn’t seen this woman before, ever, in his entire life. But he catches the way your arms fall to your sides and those elegant, dainty fingers of yours ball up into fists as you look at the blondie’s face.

Fortunately, the girl recognises him at last before her grin could turn fully dopey, and with a squeak, jumps out of the bed. “You’re not—um. Hi. Sorry, I, uh. I’ll get going.”

And surprisingly, she does exactly that in less than a minute, leaving you to stare down at Seokjin.

“You know, it’s really unbecoming for a girlfriend to keep finding girls in her boyfriend’s bed every other week and not be given an explanation, ever.” Your tone is teasing, but your eyes are taunting. “You shouldn’t always be so dismissive, you know? What if I start getting ideas? I don’t think you even remember how to make up with your girlfriend, at this point, because I never fight.”

That is when Seokjin starts gawking. And literally doesn’t stop until you’ve left the house.

“I don’t get it,” Jackson says, stuffing cold noodles into his mouth and chewing on them without closing it. “Do you think he cheated on you, or do you not think he cheated on you?”

You look at your best friend with your face twisted up in disgust. You swear to God you would never have agreed to make friends with this guy on your mother’s insistence when the Wang family moved in next doors to you, had you known he’d turn out to be such a barbarian a decade later. Twelve-year-old Jackson had been such a decent kid—studious, elegant, well-mannered. What went wrong, along the way?

You exhale, shifting on your chair, very wary of any dried up fluids that you might come in contact with. “I know he did not cheat on me, Jax, the very notion is completely ridiculous.”

Jackson stops chewing and looks away from the WWE match playing on the TV to squint at you. “I’m…confused? Wait. What is the problem, then? What are you mad at him for?”

To be completely honest, you aren’t quite certain yourself.

But you do know that you don’t feel good. And that this feeling has been building up over a couple months, but you have only really acknowledged it head-on, today, in all five-something years of your relationship. Five years, seven months and eight days, to be exact, but that’s kinda besides the point.

You’ve had at least a few months’ worth of buildup that has gotten you to this point, you would admit. Especially after Seokjin had to cancel that visit to your hometown at the end of June, for your parents’ thirty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration because he had an important audition for a big-brand ad film. The cancellation was acceptable, but his offhand comment that, “thirty-five isn’t even that special, we’ll get them a huge gift for their fiftieth,” stayed with you longer than it should’ve. Things got okay-ish when you reminded yourself how Seokjin never really thought too hard about things he said, always being a humorous, unattached clown in every situation. But this morning's dismissal has pushed you over that edge. You straightaway goaded him, claiming he doesn’t remember how to make it up to you, and all you got in response was his shock and being called “ridiculous” and “overdramatic.” Fun.

You were most certainly joking, if a bit caustically, when you said what you did. He could have taken it as a joke and laughed it off. He could have taken it as a threat and comforted you, said it was Jimin that used his room, and maybe kissed you. You already knew what had happened when you saw the girl, anyway. But this was probably the third time this situation had happened, this month. 

Sure, you are understanding and really do know Jimin and what all he gets up to, but is that really supposed to be such a given? Asking your boyfriend to hug you close and kiss your forehead when you discover a girl in his bed just as you were about to cuddle the lump of sheets thinking it was him, is not too much to expect, is it?

Granted, Seokjin has never been extremely expressive, but still. It feels like he’s consciously trying to keep you at a distance, these past few months.

You don’t have the complete grasp of the storm of thoughts in your head yet, but you want to try and explain it to Jackson the best you can. 

“It was about respect, in a way, I guess,” you quietly mumble, and Jackson turns the TV off, now sitting cross legged on the couch to face your chair. He puts away his takeout container to frown at you, probably gleaning how serious this is for you. “He stood there, without saying a single word, expecting me to stop being mad. Almost willing me to stop being mad by making these big, incredulous eyes at me. Like it was that horrible of his girlfriend to demand for an explanation when she found a girl in his bedroom. It was just the two of us, I wasn’t making a scene in front of anybody. He just—ugh! He could’ve simply asked me to not be mad, said it was Jimin who spent the night in the room and maybe even laughed about it, or plotted Jimin’s murder—I would’ve joined in—but no. He acted like I was being stupid, told me not be ridiculous and dramatic. And that made me feel really stupid.”

Jackson winces. “And why do you think you were not being stupid?”

You exhale. “I wasn’t. Because I wasn’t actually accusing him of anything, and five years down the lane, he should know that now. I just wanted him to say it and not scold me when I tease-taunted him. He always expects me to know everything. And even though I always do, it gets tiring sometimes. These weird thoughts get to you — that maybe you’re being too understanding and he’s using that to his advantage, you know?” You look down at your lap, playing with your nails. “It’s just…um. I wanted him to coddle me, I guess. To treat this as something big because I was throwing a tantrum about it and, just, I don’t know—try to cajole me? Assuage me with his words, maybe? But he didn’t. Because he hasn’t done that in forever. Because I never need him to, because I always freaking understand everything!” A sob leaves you.

Jackson pats the place next to him. “C’mere, you dumdum, and stop hyperventilating,” he mumbles, hugging you to his side when you move to sit on the couch. “I don’t exactly understand how the relationship dynamics work, but from what you told me, I get that you wanted attention? Some loving? And instead you got disappointed looks because Jin expected you to be mature and rational about it — the way you always are — and that too with his fucking eyes and some low-key insult words? Is it something like that?”

Wow, Jackson really paraphrased all that amazingly. “Yes, actually. It’s exactly that.”

Jackson sighs. “Y’all have been together a long time, babe, so I guess it’s kind of a given that you’d get to a no-bullshit point. Which is why he hasn’t done that in forever, because y’all probably don’t need that kinda stuff between you anymore.”

“I get that, it’s how a relationship matures. But I’m pretty certain that it’s not supposed to make me feel like this,” you sound slightly muffled, having stuffed your face into Jackson’s hoodie-covered chest. “I feel—I feel like we got too comfortable and now he’s just started to take me for granted. And I also feel like I’m being too needy. Am I being needy and annoying? He’d hate me if I told him all this, won’t he? Half of the reason we’ve worked out so well is because we’re both career oriented and don’t waste time overthinking stupid shit.” You gasp. “Oh, no—would he leave me? He’s used to his girlfriend being mature, not needy—”

You are cut off when Jackson pulls you away by your shoulders, giving you a serious look. “Wait, wait, stop. What did you say? Not the needy part, you’re allowed to be needy once in all the damn three-sixty-five days y’all stay busy for. The…taking you for granted part. Pretty big of a thing to say, babe.”

You sigh. “We haven’t been on an actual date in months. Seokjin thinks there’s no need for that extra effort when we spend lunch breaks at work together, everyday. Outside of the restaurant, our meetings involve our entire flock of friends by default. It’s been three months since we slept together.” You sniff, hating having to impart such a private detail of your life. “So no, I don’t think it’s that big of a thing to say, at all.”

“Wow.” Jackson gives a slow whistle. “You’ve really been bottling up a lot in there, huh?”

You shrug. “I guess. It never made me feel underappreciated, though. Sure, I was irritated at some occasions and disappointed at others, but… Today I feel horrible, Jax.”

“Did you share anything with Byulyi?” he asks, referring to your flatmate and good friend since college.

You shake your head. “She already has a lot on her plate, right now. She got rejected by the photographer she wanted to intern with, so it’s back to freelancing for her.”

“Yeah, that must suck.” Jackson grimaces. Then he looks at you. “You need to take a break, hun. Sit back, today, and have tacos and beer with me. Reset your inner thoughts. Talk to Jin tomorrow. Although, I must say, it’s kinda depressing that you have to actually tell your boyfriend that he’s being a bad boyfriend. Isn’t that kind of shit supposed to be realized on your own?”

You purse your lips. “I guess, yeah. But…don’t say that he’s being a bad boyfriend, Jax. I don’t think he even realizes something is wrong.”

“And that…doesn’t make it worse?” At your raised eyebrows, he concedes with a roll of his eyes. “Fine, fine, in any case — maybe try to hint at it before you dive straight in with the kill? See if he reacts?”

“I don’t know, Jax. What if he doesn’t? He’s really not the best at taking hints and reading signs, or that kind of subtle stuff.”

“Then you can just say your shit. All I’m saying is, give him a chance to figure it out on his own. He’s probably really clueless why you reacted so big on something so small, this morning. If you drop hints, maybe he’ll feel it out.”

You nod, somewhat amazed at how sound Jackson’s advice seems. “How are you doing this, Jax? Being a love guru all of a sudden?”

Jackson scoffs. “I’m just tryna put myself in Seokjin’s shoes. If I was in the situation he’s in, this is what I’d like to happen — be given a window to figure out what’s wrong. You’ve been together a long time, hun. It really shouldn’t be that difficult for him.”

You shrug a shoulder. “I won’t be too sure about that. Why does it even matter if he can or cannot, though?”

Jackson seems to be mulling over something before he drops his chin to his chest. “Because you’re supposed to be partners, hun. If you can tell what’s up with him with a single glance, why can't he? Not being good at taking signs is not a good enough excuse. My gut says that he’d be able to, though. And that knowledge will make you feel infinitely better, trust me. It’ll be reassuring to learn that he really knows and understands you well, won’t it?”

You nod, slowly, but you still have your suspicions. Seokjin has just been the kind of guy whose emotional depth goes to a certain extent and then just — well, stops. There are things that he feels and realizes and sees, and there are things that he doesn’t. It isn’t even something he does, you believe. It’s just how he is. Certain feelings just don’t fall in his orbit. And you’ve never found there to be anything wrong with it when he’s been an immaculately amazing boyfriend and tended to every single one of your needs, always. Well, you have never actually needed emotional consoling, too, so you haven’t had the chance to audition him for that. You keep yourself too busy for all that unnecessary mental pressure. It comes as a surprise, but you have never cried on Seokjin’s shoulder in all these years of your togetherness. You’ve kept your head straight and chin up, even during your college exams. And so has Seokjin, because you’ve never seen him cry, either.

Lately, though, things have been kind of weird. The gradual transformation into your professional lives that began after college, has been drastic in the past few months. Seokjin has been constantly prioritizing his career over you, and you have been understanding about it because you agree with it — to an extent. Seokjin believes it all the way through, though, and you have known for a while that you would hit your limit at some point, and would try to bring him back to yourself. Today morning, it seems, you hit that limit. 

You felt dispensable. 

You hate this feeling.

To be very honest, you know you can get over this. You can give it some time, remind yourself of how much your Jin loves you, believe that he is eventually going to come back to you once he settles, and be understanding about the entire thing. 

You can — but you really don’t want to.

Something tells you that this feeling of getting too comfortable will only fester and take a worse form as time goes by. You can wait it out, sure, and hope you aren’t being a pushover as he works on building his career. You are building your career, too, after all, and at least some of it has been for each other. 

The thing is, your plans with Seokjin are long-term—marriage, kids, white-picket fence, and all that. And you believe that if you are sensing a problem now, you better deal with it now before it has the chance to change its form and affect you both when you are at a more responsible point in your life.

Mind made up, you look up at Jackson, immediately grimacing when he forwards a greasy hand to pick up a taco for you. “I don’t…I don’t like tacos. And may I exchange the beer for scotch?”

“You work at a Mexican restaurant, and you don’t like tacos,” Jackson deadpans.

“They mess up my skincare.”

“Oh, fuck off! Have a spinach smoothie with a drink, why don’t you?”

You purse your lips to hold back your laughter at his ire, your own worries forgotten in the moment as Jackson gets up to get you a glass of scotch and some healthier snacking alternative.

“You're a dead man.”

Jimin stops dead in his tracks, arms frozen in the act of putting a t-shirt on. He blinks at Seokjin with big round eyes. “Hyung?” he mumbles, a picture of unblemished innocence, especially when he covers his toned torso with the oversized t-shirt he was in the process of getting into. “What—what’d I do?”

Someone who doesn’t know better would never believe that this young, innocent, frazzled haired fairy-boy could ever do any wrong. But Seokjin knows better. “You chaotic womanizer,” Seokjin nearly hisses, "you've gotta learn to clean after yourself. Honey found a girl in my bed. A girl—in my bed.”

Jimin had the decency to drop the innocent act. “Oh. Oh.”

Seokjin raises a brow. “Oh? That’s it?”

"Yeah, well, I clarified to her that it was a one time thing when we got to it. She was obviously expecting something more if she didn't leave when I told her to. Disappointed but not surprised." Jimin is frowning when he comes to sit down on the couch next to Seokjin. “Sorry you two had to see that. You clarified to Honey noona that I’d been the occupant of the room, though, right?” 

“I—what?” Seokjin scoffs. “Why would I even need to do that? She knows that already, obviously. She’s been seeing you for over five years, or have you forgotten?”

Jimin squints. “I mean…okay, fair point, I guess. Why’re you so worked up, then? Did something else happen, too? Where’s she, now?” Jimin looks around the living room as if looking for you.

Seokjin sighs. “Well, I couldn't really get much out before she was storming out of the damn house, altogether.”

Jimin blinks. “Storming out? Why? She… um, was she mad?"

Seokjin opens his mouth – and then shuts it. Was she mad, indeed. "I don't know. She looked kinda mad, yes. But maybe she was in a hurry?" 

"Why would she be mad? Did you try to call her? Text her? It's unlike her to react so big on something so small." Jimin bites down on his lip, looking lost in thought. 

Seokjin shakes his head. "She didn't pick up or text back."

“There’s definitely got to be an underlying reason for her being like this. Are you sure you guys haven’t been fighting, hyung?” 

Seokjin sighs. “Yes, Jimin, I’m absolutely certain that there hasn’t been any fighting of any sorts between the two of us before today.” He pauses. “Well, she was slightly irritated that I didn’t check her texts last night, but she knows I go to bed at eleven on days leading up to a shoot, so that one’s on her.”

Jimin looks genuinely concerned, which, in turn, makes Seokjin concerned. Jimin isn't the type to stress over stuff if he can help it. Sure, he cares about the boys and would always be down to do whatever he can for them, but his throwing-caution-to-the-wind way of life causes him to not take most of the things in life seriously.

You’ve been like an older sister to the boys ever since Seokjin started dating you and introduced you to them. They all have their ways of showing their respect and affection to you. Well, maybe not Jungkook because he can’t get over getting unnecessarily intimidated by Seokjin enough to relax around you. 

Jimin, especially, always seems to be affected by any tension in Seokjin’s relationship. Everyone can see how it upsets his entire life when you two are fighting, although he’d never admit to it. He doesn’t need to, because it’s pretty obvious when he becomes a cranky six-year-old who hates the world. 

Right now, he has a guilty frown on his face. "I should've seen to it that Suzette left before I went to shower," he mumbles as if talking to himself. “Shouldn’t have trusted her to leave just because I told her to.” He looks up at Seokjin with troubled eyes. "I'm sorry, hyung."

Seokjin can not believe himself when he shakes his head at Jimin's apology—this little demon causes so much chaos in all their lives that any apology coming from him should be justified and welcome. But this one isn't really on him. "It's not entirely your fault."

Jimin's demeanor changes a bit and the attitude Seokjin is used to witnessing makes an appearance. "Right? That's what I was thinking, too!" Jimin exclaims, some of the concern on his face lifting. "You have to talk to Honey noona and make things right, though, hyung. She’s the only womanly touch in our man cave. We’d all be barbarians without her.” Jimin looks very wary and kind of nervous.

“It’s funny you would crave her ‘womanly’ presence when she’s rushed off because of a woman that you brought home.” Seokjin scrunches his nose. "And I said it isn't entirely on you, because it is partially on you, Park Jimin. You borrowed my room to smoke up in. Why couldn't you take your Suzy back to your own room?"

"Suzette," Jimin corrects under his breath while shaking his head. "Yeah, I should've, but… your room just felt like a better choice during the high," he finishes in a mumble, dragging a hand down his face. “Hyung,” Jimin says with a pout on his lips, “the last time you two fought was two years ago, remember? On your birthday? When Hobi hyung dumped cake in noona’s hair and she had her first shoot for that bigshot magazine, the next day?”

Seokjin nods with a sigh. “She yelled at me for having stupid friends, and I yelled at her for caring more about the shoot that having a good time on my birthday. Yes, I remember.”

“And then she didn’t visit us for a whole week. Please don’t let that happen, again.” Jimin looks up at Seokjin with big, round eyes. “I can’t take that kind of unrest in my life."

Seokjin briefly wonders, if Jimin’s nightly conquests were to see this side of him, would they run in the opposite direction or be more attracted to him? Jimin definitely needs someone in his life that would bring out this side in him and stay to provide him the emotional comfort he requires when he gets like this. 

“I will try not to, Jiminie, but…” Seokjin shuts his eyes. “I seriously do not understand her actions from the morning,” he finishes in a mumble.

“Maybe she’s—maybe she’s worried about something else? Some other aspect of her life?” Jimin suggests with wide eyes. “And she’s just projecting onto you.”

“As sound as the explanation is, I am literally involved in ninety percent of the aspects in her life,” Seokjin says with a twist to his lips. “I would know if something was wrong anywhere.”

“That’s cocky of you to say,” Jimin snarkily comments with narrowed eyes. At Seokjin’s raised eyebrows, he amends, “That’s cocky of you to say, hyung-nim.”

Seokjin scoffs, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s true. We work at the same restaurant, we’re scouted by the same agency. Even her agent is best friends with mine—she gossips a ton about how Honey passes up so many opportunities and pisses her agent off. Her friends are, well—” Seokjin stops short when it hits him. “Wang. Wang could know something!”

Jimin is looking at him skeptically when Seokjin meets the younger’s eyes. “I just think you should have a simple talk with noona first before digging around.”

That is sensible advice. Seokjin nods as he pulls his phone out.

“Just find out what’s been troubling her, hyung. You two are rational people, I’m sure you’ll work it out.” Jimin pauses to scratch the back of his head. “Just please don’t let this be another fight like that one?”

“Don’t worry,” Seokjin finally says with a pat on Jimin’s shoulder as he finishes sending off another text to you, “this one is nothing like that fight.”

Turns out, this fight really is not like that one. Or any other fights Seokjin has ever had with you, in fact, because you’re giving him the silent treatment. 

You’ve never given him the silent treatment. 

Not even when you were students and didn’t have a load of time on your hands and used to waste precious sleep hours arguing over stupid shit that would probably resolve itself if you just slept on it and looked back at it with a fresh state of mind. Not even then did you forego talking.

Needless to say, Seokjin is distressed.

You drive to the house to pick him up at your usual time, the next morning, after not having responded to any of his calls or texts for the entire day. Seokjin is aghast as he gets into the car.

“Honey! What is going on? Why didn’t you—where have you been?”

You simply start the engine and take off. “Busy,” you murmur after a while.

Soekjin’s head is close to exploding. “Busy? Doing what?”

Your face remains stoic as you weave through the morning traffic. Seokjin looks at you. You’re dressed up in your waitressing outfit that consists of a shirt, skirt and tights, and being who you are, Seokjin can proudly say that you would stand out to be the most well dressed server in the field. You’re always pristine and tidy — no accidents happen to you at the job ever. No spillage of drinks or ketchups, no soiled hands being wiped down on your skirt. Nothing even ruins your manicure. 

It is something that Seokjin has always tried to keep up with, this cleanliness streak of yours. Because he has always assumed you would expect it out of him, too. You were attracted to the cover model version of him, after all. It is quite natural that you would have those kinds of expectations. And Seokjin has always been more than happy to deliver. It has become a part of him, in fact. He doesn't even chew with his mouth open even when he's among the boys, anymore.

It has, somewhat, made him practical and less emotional in life, too, but he doesn't really think of it as a bad thing. You have always been practical in life – the most ambitious girl he has ever met, someone that has always prioritized her career and goals over everything else. Seokjin has admired that since college, and has tried to show you that he has similar priorities even if he has had to work on thinking from his mind more than his heart.

But when you are already by his side, what does he even need his heart for, anymore, when it's already yours?

Now, looking at you sitting with a morose expression on your face as you give him the cold shoulder, Seokjin is just as much in love with you as he was when he first met you.

“Stuff,” you say with a shrug, after some extended silence. “You should know about that, right? Your schedule’s always busier than mine and I never complain.”

Your sharp words have him reeling. Whatever do you even mean by that? “Uhm, okay. Fair enough. But… did you really not have the time to respond to a single text?”

“It gets impossible sometimes, Jin, you know how it is.”

Seokjin frowns. He does know that, but he doesn’t feel okay. Something is very off with you. It is as if you’re saying something else and expecting him to discern a different meaning out of it. 

He doesn’t understand why, though. You, of all people, should know how terrible he is at decoding signs.

He sighs.

Seokjin, after his conversation with Jimin yesterday, had decided to ask you about the morning’s incident, head on, whenever you called him back. But you didn’t, and this is the first opportunity he’s had to talk to you, so he decides to bring it up, now. “What—what happened yesterday morning, babe? You got really mad and stormed off, and… I mean, you’ve got to know the girl had been Jimin’s companion for the night, right? You know him, how he is!”

You say nothing, hands tightening a bit on the steering wheel. Seokjin looks down at his own hands.

“You know I was only surprised at your words because we really do not have the time to be discussing silly things." He shuts his heart down when it tries to tell him to go soft. He knows it isn't something you would appreciate. "After five years, you know what I’m capable of right? You can never start getting ideas, because that would be insane and stupid. I’m already so supremely occupied as it is between two jobs, when would I even have the time to cheat, right?” he jokes, snorting to himself.

You’re still quiet, but your tongue comes out to moisten your lips. It is a nervous tick of yours which Seokjin recognizes very well, because with your skincare and scheduled regular application of lip balms, your lips never need the extra moisture.

He frowns. Was he too straightforward? But this is exactly how you communicate with him! “Hey, is everything okay, babe?”

You exhale, noisily. “Everything’s fine, Jin,” you finally say with a roll of your eyes. “And you’re right. I know you wouldn’t cheat. You don’t have the time to chat me up, how are you gonna pick someone new to impress, huh?” 

Your snort sounds lacking in humor, but Seokjin still gives a couple of stilted chuckles. Even so, he's still somewhat relieved. “Right. Just so we’re certain, that was a joke, right? I mean, it would be really ridiculous of you to think that I would—”

“Yes, Jin!” you cut him off with a deep frown. “If I wanted to talk to you about something, or accuse you, or confront you — I’d do that without you having to prompt me. Stop obsessing over yesterday and stop trying to explain yourself. I know it was Jimin’s doing.”

Seokjin feels immensely relaxed at the conviction with which you say the last sentence, certainly, but something is still off. “Why were you ignoring me, then?”

“I just didn’t have anything to say to you.” You stop at a red light, the last one before you reach the restaurant, and turn to look at Seokjin with really vacant eyes. He doesn’t like your stare one bit. “We’ve been together five years, babe. If neither of us have got anything of significance to say, I’d rather not text too much, if that’s okay with you? I’ve got a busy schedule to work around, too, you know?”

Seokjin wants to remind you that both of you had something of significance to say after you left his place in anger, but chooses to just roll with whatever you’re playing at. Maybe he's thinking too much. He nods. “Sounds alright to me.”

“Great,” you breathe out, somehow looking disappointed along with the preexisting sorrowful expression you had on your face.

You really do not have a concrete explanation for why you acted the way you did with Seokjin, this morning. 

You were supposed to hint at being mad, not blatantly try to give him a taste of his own medicine. It could turn out to be a good thing if he eventually starts to miss you and reaches out, sure, but playing mind games never feels right to you. But when he started to joke about not having time to cheat, and something just turned off in you. He really could’ve seriously reassured you of his love. That would’ve been actually comforting. But no. He chose to joke about that, too. You didn’t feel like putting in all that energy anymore, after that.

Now, you sit down in the break room to check your phone during your ten minutes’ rest break. A text message floats at the top of your notifications.

Jax 🚽 Hey How’d it go?

With an exhale, you decide to call him back. Your fingers are too tired to type, and Jackson is sure to launch off into a rampage of texts the moment you tell him you’ve tried to turn the tables on Seokjin.

Seokjin is in the kitchen, his usual rest break not being for another hour, so you don’t have to worry about him walking in.

“Hey!” Jackson jovially greets you as soon as he picks the phone. “Did you get my text?”

“I did, yes,” you respond in a calm voice. “I’ve been looping milkshake mugs through my fingers since eight am, they needed some rest, so I decided to call.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool. I was in a really boring class, anyway. So. How'd it go?"

You pull in your lip between your teeth. "I… I kinda ended up telling him I am a busy person too and that we shouldn’t text that much."

You hear silence instead of the outburst you'd expected. 

"Jax?"

"Are you actually gonna try to play a mind game with the dumbest human being you know on earth?" Jackson so very eloquently asks, his interpretation making you pinch the bridge of your nose. “He’s never even gonna figure it out!”

“I know how it sounds, okay?” You exhale. “I honestly don’t know what came over me.”

“Okay, alright, one thing at a time. So, no coddling?"

"Not a single soft word. Just more expectations of me understanding, and claiming that anything but that would be stupid of me. He acts like I'm supposed to know everything about him and everyone in his group of friends," you mutter in irritation. “As if those dumbasses know the first thing about themselves.”

You realize you're being a bit harsh, because his friends – basically your younger brothers, at this point – are a bunch of clueless idiots that love, adore and respect you. You shouldn't be badmouthing them, Seokjin’s growing callousness towards you isn't their doing. It's his own. 

You sigh. You really miss how things used to be when you were in college.

“Uh, I think we need to rewind a bit. What happened? What triggered this?”

It makes you smile a little when Jackson asks that. At least your best knows you’re not wholly clinically insane. “Well… I drove him to work. He…" your brows lower at the recollection, "he was the first to bring up yesterday morning. And yet again, he gave me the same you've got to know this and that crap, and then he tried to assure me in the dumbest possible way. Do you know what he said, Jax, do you?”

“Um, do I wanna know?”

“He said, and I quote, he doesn’t have the time to cheat. Jackson Wang, are you hearing this? He really straight up said he was too busy to cheat on me and so I should rest assured! Who says that?!”

“He must’ve meant it as a joke—”

“Yeah, he said that, too, and then very immaculately added that it’d be ridiculous of me to think otherwise. I have lost count of how many times the words ridiculous and stupid came up.”

“Goddammit.”

“Goddammit is right,” you mumble, morosely resting your head on your palm.

“What did he say, by the way? When you told him to text less?”

You give a wry chuckle. "Well, he said it sounded alright to him."

"Son of a bitch. You – you two are messed up, man. Messed up bad. Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't? You don't wanna text less because you're busy, you want him to dote on you because you miss him!" Jackson sounds beyond frustrated. "And it doesn't fucking sound alright to him! It sounds scary, it sounds confusing, it sounds like something you would never say to him!" He groans. "But none of you would say that shit to each other! You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess."

You reel from the onslaught of his harsh words, eyes widened and breath stuttering. Jackson isn't usually the type to pay so much attention to your relationship problems. But this time, you guess, he has garnered the depth of your unhappiness and thus has gotten so involved.

You realize he is right. Nothing good can come out of any turned tables, because Seokjin is, anyways, not even going to be able to work out the problem by himself. He may even go around talking to his friends about how you were being cold with him and not giving him any time, and still not realize he has been doing the same to you. He is thick like that. 

When his friends tell you tales of his compassion, you're unable to relate. You've never seen that side of him. He has probably grown up from that emotionally overwhelmed high school graduate who had made friends on a whim, the night of his graduation.

You certainly don't appreciate the emotional abstinence, though, and would very much rather prefer if he would open up a bit more. It would help you be more open with him, without fearing him calling you "stupid" in response.

But it’s still alright, you accept him with that thick brain of his, because he’s still only ever going to be the only one for you.

"How are you two gonna get around to having a proper chat if you just keep building more walls between you both?" Jackson asks after the long pause from your end, this time softer. “I’m sorry, babe, I was wrong. Giving him signs and making him realize shit won’t work. It was stupid of me to suggest that. It’s probably why you ended up being so caustic with him.

“No, no, it was all me, Jax. I could’ve chosen to not listen to you, but my ego got in the way, I guess. It’s not exactly easy, telling your boyfriend you’re feeling neglected. I mean, what if he laughs in my face and tells me I’m being paranoid? What if he thinks I have no regard for his career — or mine — because my priorities don’t align with his?” You bite your lip, shutting your eyes as your insecurities attack you.

“Hey, no. None of that is gonna happen if you really share with him what you’ve been feeling. No hints, no sarcasm, you’re gonna have to tell him point blank. Allow yourself to be raw. He’s the love of your life. You don’t have to protect yourself from him, right?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I know. You’re absolutely right, Jax. But I really have no idea how to even approach him, at this point. He’s either too busy with shoots, or with the guys, or some meeting. I cannot do this on call, because that always leads to misunderstandings.” You bite down on your lower lip, contemplating. “But I’ll figure something out.”

"Yes, you will. You always do. So, that’s good then. In the meanwhile, can you at least clean up this latest pile of poop? The talking less thingy is gonna make you two more distant, hun."

You scrunch your nose at his metaphor, but then your shoulders slump. "I don't know, Jackson. The way he so impassively agreed to it would make me sound really stupid if I take it back. And given what he keeps saying, he really doesn’t want me to sound stupid."

Jackson gives a snort at that. “Hah, funny. But listen. At the end of the day, he’s your boyfriend. You're gonna have to really decide if you're trying to get your boyfriend to give you more love, or if you're fighting a battle of egos and would like to bend him to you."

You bite your lip. “You make me sound manipulative.”

“You yourself confessed you let your ego come into this, one time. Don’t let that happen again. I’m trying to make you realize that complicated problems can have simple solutions, too. If only you’d communicate. Just talk to him soon, please, and make him understand why you’re hurt. Don’t carry on with this stupid cold war, okay? You gotta figure out exactly what you want, first.”

“You know what I want, Jax. You’re literally the only person that does, actually,” you remind him with a sigh.

“Oh, he is, isn’t he?”

You freeze, eyes bulging at the familiar voice. “I’ll… I’ll call you back,” you mumble before you disconnect the call and turn to look over your shoulder at Seokjin’s unreadable face. He stands with his arms crossed, still in his uniform but without the apron. “Jin… what—uh…”

“What am I doing here?” he scoffs, lips curling in distaste as he stares you down. “Well, I was going to the loo when I saw you sitting here. You looked upset, so I thought I’d check in on you on my way back.” He clicks his tongue, a dry chuckle tumbling out. “But apparently, you’ve got other people doing it for you, already.”

You wince, shutting your eyes. The one time he was finally going to give you some much needed attention — you sent a bad message his way. 

“So. Good to know there actually is someone who knows what you want. Would’ve been easier if it were me, though, given how I stand to be the one that is to deliver.” Seokjin sounds pissed off, and despite your irritation, you really want to make him understand.

You rub at your forehead. “Stop talking like that, Jin, it was just Jackson.”

“Wang?” He seems to seethe more, for some reason. “Of course, it’s fucking Wang!”

You frown, standing up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Seokjin looks at you incredulously. “You—do you not see how this looks? You have problems with me, Honey, but you choose to discuss them with him? Who’s he, your therapist?”

“He’s my best friend, Jin, someone I trust,” you grit out.

Seokjin seems to take it the wrong way, his agitated expressions slowly fading into a blank stare. “Oh. You trust him, as opposed to…” He trails off with a shrug, but the implication is as obvious as it can be.

“Jin—”

He raises a hand up, palm facing you as he looks away. “If you need some time apart, you should tell me in plain words. You know I’m not good at reading signs.”

Seokjin gives you a blank stare before turning around to leave the area. You stand rooted to your place, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

Some time apart? Has he lost his mind? 

He really is a huge freaking idiot who cannot pause to think what implications his words have. He seriously doesn’t recognize what all his “don’t be ridiculous/overdramatic/stupid” speeches do to you. You realize you should really make him understand. This has gone on for way too long.

But maybe you should take some time to yourself to cool off before that. You don’t want to say the wrong thing in your rage and complicate things further.

You sigh to yourself as you slump back into the bench you were sat on before.

You’d set out to tell your boyfriend you were feeling neglected, but you ended up making him think you want to be apart. How the heck did you get here?

You belatedly recall Jackson's words.

Why the hell can you not just say shit you really mean and actually want to instead of saying shit you don't?

You’re choosing to be evasive and fucking plastic instead of honest, and falling deeper into your mess.

Your usually dumbheaded best friend was right on this one, you realize. You should’ve just talked like a normal human being instead of letting Seokjin’s words get to you and get pissy in retaliation.

You give a weary sigh. 

Seokjin is grateful for the sudden busyness he’s got on his schedule, or he would explode from all the pent up frustration you have been causing him. 

He realized he wasn’t as upset with you as he was irritated, right after he walked away from you on Monday. He dropped you a text with some excuse of needing to stay back so that he wasn’t forced to ride with you in the car again, and later took the bus home. 

You had told Jackson Wang about what was troubling you, but not him. It made Seokjin feel upset, incompetent and more than a little insecure. Seokjin absolutely hates feeling insecure. Especially about you. You’re the singular most precious entity in his life — not that you are an entity, per se — and anything that seeks to threaten your position in his life or his position in yours, makes him lose his shit.

So it was understandable that he jumped to unfairly disproportionate magnitudes of conclusions that day. When he thought about it, later, he could easily tell that you are just mad at him and not actually contemplating leaving him, not even for a little while. Not that he’d just sit back and have you do that so easily.

Seokjin also hates overthinking, but that is all he did for the entirety of his Monday. 

Monday, though, was the last time he had time to overthink. Life got exponentially busier after that.

Immediately after his shoot on Tuesday, he received his agent’s call and was informed of his jam packed schedule for the remainder of the week. He was pulled into two separate magazine ad shoots on Wednesday, a perfume ad film drank up all of his Thursday, and today, a hair product ad film needed him to report to a sunrise point in the city at the ass-crack of dawn. The sky was still dark when he rode across the city with his agent at nearly four in the morning. 

And now, the afternoon sun beats down on his car as he drives back alone, his agent staying back to tend to some business. Stopping at a red light, he reaches for his spinach smoothie with one hand and his phone with the other. Ugh, he feels beyond tired.

Blearily, he looks down at the device around a yawn, fingers habitually reaching for your chat.

He took a week off from the restaurant and dropped you a text, late Tuesday evening, informing you of the same.

Honey✨❤👸 Hm, kay. Good luck x

Unsurprisingly, that stands to be your last message in his inbox. It’s been four days.

Sighing, he swipes a hand down his tired face and exits out of the message app. He went to bed at nine o’clock, last night, and owing to the way he has trained his body to sleep on command, he did manage to get a sleep of nearly six hours, too. But it was fitful and plagued with nightmares featuring you. 

Knowing he doesn't have to be at the restaurant until Monday and that his next gig isn’t until Wednesday, he cannot wait to get back home and drink his weight in alcohol before he sleeps his way through the weekend.

Just as he has moved past the intersection, his phone rings. 

Honey✨❤👸 calling...

He nearly spits the smoothie he just sipped at.

Coughing, he roughly jostles the plastic cup back in the holder and pulls up to a side of the road to pick up the call. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone, embarrassed at his desperation.

“Jin. Um, hi.” You sound awkward, as if you…have been compelled to call him due to some reason.

He is immediately worried. “Honey? Is everything okay, do you need something?”

He hates himself for being so concerned when you have been neglecting him for so many days – yet again, despite your spat at the restaurant – instead of finally talking to him about what’s bothering you, but he can’t help it. At the end of the day, you are the love of his life. 

“Yes, yes, I’m okay. It’s just, um. Can you pick me up from the restaurant?” you sound nervous.

But, Seokjin realizes, I was right. You do need something. He clears his throat. “Uh, okay, I guess,” he agrees before stopping short when he realizes the time. “Wait, it’s barely even two. Why are you leaving?” he asks, confused and a little concerned. You work your shift till five every day and till eight on weekends.

“Tomorrow is Halloween, Jin. We’re closing for the weekend, remember?”

Seokjin’s mouth falls open on a gasp. He really had forgotten. “Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there in five, wait up.”

He swerves the car into the lane and takes off in the direction of the restaurant. 

He laughs at himself. He has been so caught up in work that he literally forgot Halloween. He wonders if this is what actual adulting is.

He is stopping before the restaurant within three minutes of your phone call, eyes immediately spotting your delicate figure standing on the sidewalk with your hands crossed against your chest.

You step down from the curb when you spot his car, and walk towards him. He watches your elegant legs as they beautifully fall in a straight line. Even when exiting your job as a waitress, you’re every bit the elegant model he met in college. Your hips sway tantalizingly, and something akin to longing swirls in his chest.

He composes himself quickly when you cross the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You awkwardly clear your throat as Seokjin busies himself with starting the vehicle, unsure if he should initiate conversation.

“Um, sorry about this. You were probably getting ready for shoot,” you finally say. “Byulyi dropped me off today. She wasn’t picking her phone up. I was trying to get a cab for half an hour. And the bus stop’s really far—”

“Hey, stop. It’s okay. You should’ve called me sooner.” Seokjin catches your apprehensive gaze on his oversized hoodie when he chances a glance at you. He sighs. “I was returning home from shoot, actually.”

He feels you stiffen, and he feels even more mentally drained at this. You used to be updated with his schedule to the tee — just short of having an actual copy of the calendar his agent carries on him. And the same goes for him with your schedule. This feels so wrong.

You are quiet for a while, your hands fidgeting in his peripheral vision.

“How—how was it?” you finally say, voice coming out like a croak.

Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “The usual. Blinding, tiring, exhaustive. I did okay, I guess.”

He feels your gaze snap up to drill holes into his skull. Your eyes are wide when he checks. “Okay? Since when do you do anything less than amazing at shoots, babe?”

He feels endeared at your casual use of a pet name. “I had to get up at three in the morning and go through a skincare routine. Then drive across the entire city to get to the location, because they wanted to capture actual sunrise. I was more tired than excited by the time they rolled cameras, so.” He shrugs. “Can’t really say I gave my best today.”

You nod at his admission. 

Seokjin almost jumps when his phone rings, again.

Jiminie calling...

He feels you shift in your seat. His mouth sours at the reminder of that Sue girl that started off this entire tussle between you and him. Fucking Jimin and his conquests. What happened to the shy and more than a little glum looking freshman he let into his living space, three years ago?

Your hand suddenly reaches forth to accept the call, putting it on loudspeaker, immediately. Seokjin gapes at you, momentarily looking away from the road. 

“Uh…hyung?” Jimin’s confused voice echoes in the car. 

Seokjin snaps out of his daze when you gesture towards the device. “Wh—Jimin, hi, what’s — what’s up?” he stumbles his way through a haphazard greeting.

“Hyung, I needed a favor. Are you on your way back from the shoot, right now?” Jimin asks, and Seokjin sees you freeze in your seat.

He feels a perverse sense of satisfaction. Yes, take that! Park Jmin knows of my schedule better than you do! This is what you get for ghosting me! “I was, yeah. What is it?”

“Oh, great! I kinda need your help, hyung. My tire gave out. Could you pick me up from the Kappa hall?”

Seokjin scowls. “Yah! Who am I, your butler? Hop on a damn bus!”

He notices you pursing your lips, no doubt finding his agitation humorous — you always do. 

“Hyu~ng,” Jimin whines. “I would take the bus, but the next one leaves in forty-five minutes and I need to be back within an hour!”

“What? Why?”

“I started on my sem project really late, hyung, and now I gotta spend any time I can spare at the rehearsal hall. I’m meeting a choreographer here in an hour. Please help me out!” Jimin is still whining, and maybe his reasoning is kind of alright, but—

Seokjin is tired to his bones. He literally cannot drive all the way down to your apartment and then drive back to the university campus to pick Jimin up.

He sighs, wearily. “Jimin… I’m really tired.” 

“And I’m really desperate, hyung! Dancing is tough! And the subject I've chosen, tougher. I haven't done ballet since first semester, Freshman year! I have to work my butt off and be done in under two months."

Seokjin exhales, feeling beyond exhausted. But then your finger is tapping on the screen and the call has been muted. Seokjin’s surprised eyes fly up to meet yours. You look conflicted, biting down on your lower lip as you shake your head with a frown.

“You should go home and rest, Jin. Leave the car with me, I’ll pick him up.”

“Hyung? Say something?”

Seokjin blinks. “You…”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll pick him up, yeah. He’ll drop me off and drive back to your place.”

“Hyung?! Did you put me on mute, or what? I can't hear a thing!”

“Tell him you’ll be there in ten!” you say, unmuting the call.

“I’m in the car, the network must have glitched. I’ll, uh… be there in ten?” Seokjin nervously finishes off, looking at you in question. You give him a nod, blinking slowly. “Wait up, okay?”

“Oh my God, thank you so much, hyung!” Jimin practically squeals through the phone. “I’ll be in the ice cream shop across the building. I love you, hyung-nim!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes and disconnects the call. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes as he takes a right, now moving in the direction of his apartment instead of yours. “You sure about this? Jimin, um, knows. About our…” Seokjin doesn’t want to call it the f-word, because he would like to believe that you two aren’t actually fighting. “You being upset, I mean,” he settles for the easier alternative. “He might ask questions.”

You give a small huff of wry laugh. “I can handle it, Seokjin. I’ve known Jimin for almost three years now.”

Seokjin doesn’t like it when you address him by his full name. And so, his lips remain pursed for the remainder of the ride, only parting to tell you to “drive safe and text me when you finally get home,” and then he walks inside his apartment without looking back.

He hears his car come to life and then speed away. He shuts his eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter. Gathering his emotional as well as physical bearings, he opens the refrigerator to rummage through some leftovers to munch on while he breaks out a six pack of Budweiser. 

Before his fried rice has even reheated, Seokjin groans at the sight of an all too jovial Hoseok entering the kitchen with a glint in his eyes. “No, Hobi. Not now.”

“What? I didn’t say a word, hyung!”

Seokjin winces, shutting his eyes just as the microwave beeps. “I don’t have enough energy to deal with your general aura, right now,” he mumbles, extracting the piping hot glass bowl. He leans down to open one of the compartments beneath the kitchen table to get to the beer that he’s been dreaming of for nearly an hour, now. “I’m dead on my feet and—woah!” Seokjin gasps, cutting himself off.

Hoseok hops into the kitchen, coming around to stand behind Seokjin. “So you found ’em,” he says around a chuckle.

“Found ’em? This is you?” Seokjin whips his head around to glare at Hoseok up from his crouch. “Why is my liquor closet resembling a liquor shop, Hobi? Why do we have all this—” he turns around to read the labels, cursing under his breath. “Why do we have,” he pauses to count, “five bottles of Tequila and eight bottles of Vodka?”

Hoseok frowns in concern. “Eight? There should be ten, hyung, check again.”

Seokjin actually gasps, this time. “What the hell, Jung Hoseok? Explain yourself before I start throwing hands!”

Hoseok smacks a palm against his forehead, taking Seokjin by surprise, yet again. “Tonight’s the Halloween party, hyung! Did you actually forget?”

Seokjin screws his eyes shut, letting his head roll back with a frustrated whine. “No~o, don’t tell me it's tonight. Halloween’s tomorrow, right? Why is the party tonight?”

“Yes, hyung, Halloween in tomorrow, which is why it would be stupid to hold the party when Halloween is ending.”

Seokjin finds the logic to be very severely flawed, but his energy is draining out fast and he cannot keep up with this quarrel. There’s no point, anyway. He’s known about this party for nearly a month. And Hoseok isn’t going to postpone a whole party just because Seokjin is tired.

“You look tired, hyung. You should rest. Recharge yourself before the party, okay? There’s plenty of time.” Hoseok pats Seokjin on the shoulder with a kind smile.

“I’m not even in the mood to party, Hobi,” Seokjin mutters, reaching behind all the glass bottles to extract his pack of cans. 

Hoseok scowls at Seokjin. “Because you’re upset about your fight, I realize that. All the more reason to party, hyung! Take your mind off it for some time, why don’t you? You don’t even have to dress up, come as yourself.”

“I’d rather just drink myself to sleep and not wake up for the next twenty four hours.”

Hoseok blocks his path as Seokjin moves to exit the kitchen. “Is Honey coming?”

Seokjin sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, Hobi. Did you invite her?”

“No, hyung, because you said you would.”

Seokjin clicks his tongue. He completely forgot. “Then she isn’t coming.”

Without listening to his protests, Seokjin trudges upstairs with his food and beer. He will be forced to come down for at least a couple shots, he is certain, so he better make as much of the time he has on his hands as he can.

These days, it seems to be becoming a pattern for you to do things without really understanding why you do them. 

You nibble at your bottom lip as you recall how gaunt and pale Seokjin had looked when you sat in the car. You had been really self-centered as it is, not really keeping in touch with him for four days, and then reaching out when you needed help. You couldn’t bear to think, on top of everything, that he had driven you home despite his extreme exhaustion while you sat back selfishly and let him drive around the city to pick Jimin up when he looked like a ghost.

You shake your head at yourself as Jimin jogs down the road to enter the car, ten seconds after you texted him. 

His gaze is slightly hesitant when he meets your eyes, even though his smile is nothing but genuine. “Hello, noona. How come you are…” he trails off, gesturing around the two of you.

You start the car, shrugging one shoulder. “Seokjin came to pick me up. Now you’re gonna drop me off.”

Jimin gives you a huge smile, before his eyebrows suddenly lower. You look away, veering onto the road. “Wait. Were you in the car with him when I called?”

You chuckle. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Jimin mumbles around a small laugh.

You hum to yourself as you drive, distracting yourself from the thoughts that keep encircling your head. Seokjin is your boyfriend, no matter how mad you might be at him — you love him and care about him. Which is why you have tried to help him out. Not to mention, you felt slightly guilty, as it is, about calling him to pick you up. Why is your gesture of goodwill bothering you, then?

This is what you do for people you care about. Seokjin would do the same.

Your train of thoughts suddenly comes to a screeching halt.

Would he? Would he, really?

“You okay, noona?”

You jolt back from your thoughts, wide eyes turning to look at Jimin. “Wha—yes, yeah, I'm fine.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’re gripping the wheel really hard.”

You look at your tightly clenched fists, and immediately ease them. “Oh, uh. Sorry. A lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Understandably,” Jimin mutters, looking out of the side window when you turn to look at him.

You purse your lips and press down on the accelerator. 

A few beats of silence pass between you two before Jimin clears his throat. “Can I say something?” he asks you in a soft voice, looking nothing like the seductive persona he puts forth to get ladies falling in his bed. 

You exhale. “Sure.”

“You, um. You are not just hyung’s girlfriend, you know?” he says slowly.

You scoff. “Of course, I do. I am also the very best server my restaurant has ever seen and the best struggling model you’ll ever meet, on the side.”

Jimin snorts, before giggling with his eyes closed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You do. But you do not want to face it. You want to be selfish, for once. You do absolutely know that you have been ignoring all the boys in your anger at Seokjin, but you absolutely do not wish to do anything about it. Not until you’ve resolved this tense air between you and Seokjin.

“You are also a part of our little family,” Jimin quietly finishes.

You suck your lips in at that. The word “family'' really gets to you. 

He’s right, isn’t he? 

All eight of you — well, nine, now, with the addition of Taehyung’s girlfriend — have been a family since the day you met these guys.

You smile as the memories start to filter in.

You had had a giant crush on Seokjin since the very first time you saw him in your Freshman year. Well, having a crush on the guy wasn’t that unheard of given how handsome he was. It also helped matters that he modelled for the cover page of your university’s journal within his first month in college. What surprised you was his reciprocated interest when you both finally got to know each other, thanks to Byulyi. Your current roommate was majoring in photography back then, and somehow roped the two of you into modelling for her portfolio. Seokjin asked you out during the sixth month of your Freshman year.

You recall being introduced to Yoongi in your Sophomore year, when he entered your college as a Music major. You found him laid back, calm but really sassy, and fun to be around. The three of you often hung out together, and you took immense pleasure in singling Seokjin out with the two of your sarcastic back and forths.

In your senior year, Hoseok transferred to your college as a Sophomore, and Taehyung and Jimin entered as Freshmen. 

Hoseok was literally the most lively person you’d ever met in your life. There wasn’t a single moment of boredom next to him. He was easily given the responsibility of planning all your outings and parties, henceforth — a position he still holds with full competence.

Taehyung was usually found to be lost in his head more often than not in his initial college days. He was confused about his major for two entire semesters. With inputs from the group, when he eventually picked Art, he eased into college life. After that, he came out to be one of the weirdest and unwittingly funny guys in the group. You still don’t get how he was the first amongst all the boys to find him a girl.

Jimin was a really quiet and reserved individual, at first. He very rarely interacted with you all, choosing to stay holed up in his dorm room, instead, that Taehyung had forced him to share with him. You suspected he was recovering from a recent heartbreak. It became evident when he started dating someone within a week of getting into college, only to confess it was a rebound when he got dumped. The whoring around that began after the whole debacle is yet to cease, though. Obviously. 

Hoseok comes from a really well-off family, and had brought along with him the four-bedroom apartment he currently resides in with Yoongi, Jimin and your boyfriend. His uncle gave it away to him, rent-free of course, and he proposed to share it with the rest of the guys. Seokjin and Yoongi were immediately on board, more than eager to leave the chaotic dorm life behind. Taehyung, contrarily, decided he wanted to get the whole college experience and refused to quit the dorms. Jimin, then, left the dorm he shared with Taehyung to move in with the elders.

You met Jungkook immediately after your graduation on the boy’s eighteenth birthday. He instantly struck you as a smart kid, really good at singing as well as art. Yoongi disclosed he wanted to be a music major in your college, and you tried to encourage Jungkook about it, but the guy could hardly even look at you. It was cute but also hilarious how much he was scared of Seokjin, and by principle, you.

You believe that is still true. Now that you think about it, you're pretty sure you haven’t seen Jungkook ever actually relax around the two of you.

“Noona?”

You blink, coming back to the present as Jimin calls out to you. You take a deep breath, the memories hitting you with tender emotions. All these people are really precious to you, aren’t they? The bunch of you really are a family, aren’t you?

A sad smile swims up to your face. You miss the boys.

When he calls again, you turn to look at Jimin, questioningly. 

“Please don’t be mad at hyung,” he slowly says, looking down at his lap. In this moment, he looks quite unlike the Jimin you are used to and reminds you of, instead, the one you’d first met. “He might lack tact, sometimes, but he really loves you a lot. You’re his whole world. Whatever it is that you are angry about, you should tell him about it. I don’t think he would be able to figure it out by himself.”

This, you agree with. “I’ll try, Jiminie.”

“We all miss you. Especially Hobi hyung and I,” he says with a lopsided excuse of a smile. 

You resist the urge to fluff his hair. Jimin and Hoseok have been like the younger brothers you never had. You miss them, too. 

He suddenly chuckles. "And Yoongi hyung hides it well, but I think he's the one that misses you the most. No one helps him roast Jin hyung quite like you do."

You roll your eyes. "Of course not. It's a waste for Yoongi to even try to find a better partner at roasting Jin."

You spot your apartment building and pull up to it. 

“I’ll try to talk to Jin as soon as I can, Jimin, I promise. Don't worry so much about it,” you say as you step out, patting the boy once on his head. "I miss you all, too."

You give a small wave and faint smile to him as he drives away.

tagging: @shrimpmsg​

note: so! a lil bit of backstory and the infamous halloween party - how we feelin’ so far? the next part is ~12k words, too, and i’ll post it next wednesday, wait around~ 😘💕

SECOND PART OUT NOW: read here!

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