#he is very pretty but theres no way he could bust a move | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

knpjpr · 3 years

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fucked up. | jjk sm au

⇆series: #fake

⇆main ship: gamer!jungkook x student!reader

⇆genre: angst, angst, and angst and then some fluff

⇆word count: 4.5K (unedited)

⇆warnings: theres cussing, unprotected sex, (wrap it up smh.) riding, dirty talk, tension between yn and jungkook, slut shaming, taehyung x lou ;), taejoon friendship confirmed, jimin and yoongi fight, jungkook and yn fight, everyone is messy tbh

⇆ a/n: if you'd like to be added to the taglist, send me an ask + time stamps are in this part for a reason

Yn ; October 31th | 11:21 pm

The minute you and Lou are entering the house, everything is in full swing. People scattered all around, some at the bar table filling their cups with whatever type of booze they could, others dancing, playing beer pong, and much more that you knew Jin would throw a fit about later.

Lou is parting ways with you, automatically walking her way to the booze table and pushing some guy you’ve never seen over as you make yourself home to a space on the couch. Lou looked pretty, just like your dark angel costume, she’d placed herself in a white version, the curve of her body showing nicely. She was indeed a pretty angel.

Taehyung is the second person who you see tonight, walking up to you with the same smile you’ve known since fifth grade. “Care if I join you?” He’s noticeably a vampire, the corners of his mouth leaked with fake blood as his red contacts contrast with the costume.

“Sure, Lou went and ditched me… as usual.”

He’s laughing, the only sound that made you feel comfortable in this crowded house full of people you’ve seen but never made the time to get to know. The two of you had finally been able to talk after a long time and it was nice. You and Taehyung were good friends and you hoped it stayed that way.

“I like your costume.” He says, taking a quick glance over at your outfit, but deciding that if he looked any further it would make you uncomfortable.

You’re smiling at him this time, settling into the party as your side tucks into his. “You want something to drink?” Nodding slowly, Taehyung is standing up and walking towards the bar table.

It had been a few minutes of you sitting there when you decided to walk around the place. Loud music with people’s chatter to overlap with it. You easily are swinging past bodies, trying to find Taehyung’s figure who wasn’t at the bar table any more. It wasn’t until you feel a hand on your shoulder when you are close by the backyard sliding doors that you stop. “Hey.”

You turn and there Jungkook is, red solo cup in hand, and a smile placed on his face as your heart pounds. He looks hot, black hood over his head with clown makeup decorating his face, his jeans ripped like always. His costume was simple, but even so, still made your heart race.

He had been waiting to see you all night, got here early due to Namjoon’s request to get out the house and help, and so seeing you here made his heart happy, made him happy.

He’s taking a long glance down your body, swallowing hard when he notices that you aren't wearing alot to cover your figure, parts of your body like your cleavage and thighs on full display to him. “Like what you see?” You tease as he frowns down at you, which has you laughing, unintentionally placing your hand on his chest.

His gaze softens the minute your touch is all he feels. “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter?” He asks, watching as you move closer to him every time someone pushes past you. “Sure, follow me.” You say as you slip your hand into his and start leading him past others, not noticing the blush that rises on your cheeks.

Namjoon ; October 31th | 11:37 pm

Namjoon was a tall.. a little too tall handsome guy, to which he had found out by the longing glances he would get from girls and even so guys. This was not his usual thing, never had himself at a party so he was determined to find someone he knew and hang with them for the majority of the night.

Slipping past a few people, he’s coming into sight of Taehyung, choppy brown hair displaying in messy waves as a red solo cup had been accompanying him for the night. Namjoon is walking up to him, dimples on full display, which has Taehyung splitting his gaze from something to him in an instant. “Yo dude, like your costume.”

Namjoon did not plan to go all out for this simple halloween party, and seeing as Jin told him that it was a costume party, he opted to dress up as his future career. He wore a bright orange nasa jumpsuit, one that his mom bought him per his request. He wanted to be an astronaut and sure hell this kid could do it.

“Thanks.” Namjoon takes a seat beside Taehyung, finally realizing that his attention wasn’t on the 5’11 tall ass guy seated next to him, but rather on a shorter girl who’s doe eyes were scanning around the kitchen.

Namjoon recognized her almost instantly, didn't even have to question it by the way Taehyung is sighing hard. “When has she looked that pretty, and why am I just realizing this.” He blurts, Namjoon not knowing if he’s talking to him or to the air that this party didn’t have enough of.

“Why don’t you talk to her?” Taehyung cocks his head in Namjoons direction, an unrecognizable look on his face. He had been watching her the minute he assumed you found Jungkook, his gaze not being able to falter at all from her direction.

“I don’t know man, I don’t want to fuck up our friendship.” Taehyung admits, he didn’t know whatever the feeling that he felt right now was. But he did know if he were to explore it, he could possibly fuck it all up.

“Well, you never know. That’s why they are called “leaps of faith,” namjoon shifts in his spot on the couch, watching as the girl they had been looking at is startly approached by another figure. “You never know. If you don’t go, others will.”

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, getting up from his seat the minute the girl’s face crinkles in uncomfortableness at the other unknown guy. Taehyung didn’t know what would come out of him and Lou, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t ignore how he felt at that moment.

Jimin ; November 1st | 12:03 pm

If there was one thing Jimin knew, it was that costumes at Halloween parties are not mandatory. He very much disliked dressing up in some tacky costume, like a couple who had just walked past him as a firefighter and a dalmation. Fucking lame.

Instead, Jimin dressed hot, dressed in clothes that he wore all the time, but for Yoongi, it made his heart pound and Jimin knew that. Could tell all just by the way Yoongi would take long glances the whole ride to Jin’s and would constantly suck in air the minute Jimin is softly brushing against him.

Jimin had been seated on one of the bar stools in the den of Jin’s house, carefully watching as Jin and Yoongi go at it in a round of beer pong. Yoongi was losing terribly, his attention too intertwined with the blonde that was sitting comfortably behind him.

Jin’s turn was next, only had three more cups to go before Yoongi was completely plastered, which meant that Jimin would have to drive them home. Yoongi was already starting to become drunk, the smell of booze making Jimin’s nose crinkle in a cringe. Drinking was overrated.

Jin takes one of the balls in his hands, angling his hand as he squints before chucking the ball, the sound of a plastic ball hitting liquid making Yoongi groan. “F-fuck man.” Yoongi grunts, slipping the ball out of the cup before tipping the cup up to his lips and chugging the rest of its contents.

Jimin watched with distaste, Jin smirking widely before waiting for Yoongi to try his shot with the remaining eight cups left on Jin’s side. “Man, I think it’s far to see I've won.” Jin says taunting but Yoongi glares hard at the older male. “You, you shut your big lip ass up. I can do it just fine you f-fucker.”

Yoongi reaches his hand down into the small basket full of ping pong balls, grabbing the plastic orb and trying to copy Jin’s movements, but failed with a drunken stance, the ping pong ball bouncing off the table and onto the floor.

“S-shit.” He groans, Jin smirking as Jimin rolls his eyes. There was no way that Yoongi was going to win and it was starting to annoy Jimin because he was sitting here watching him just drink and drink.

Soon enough Yoongi was sipping down his last drink, proving ultimately that Jin won fair and square. “Damn dude, usually you beat me. Must be my lucky day.” Jin laughs out and Jimin slips off from the bar stool. “I’m going to go get me some water.”

Yoongi being completely plastered was a bad thing. Not only was he extremely clumsy but he was ill-tempered and acted rash and right on the spot. So the minute he’s coming to the conclusion Jimin’s leaving him behind, he’s turning fast and accidentally spilling the remainder of booze on Jimin’s clothes.

“Fuck! Baby I didn’t mean to.” Yoongi says, not paying attention to the looks people are starting to give the minute they realize what just left his mouth.

Jimin didn’t care about his clothes, but what he did care about was Yoongi just outting them out. Outting him out. Yoongi had been trying to wipe away the stain with his hand, not even understanding that wasn’t how it worked.

Jimin slapped his hand away, Yoongi’s face forming into a frown as he realized Jimin was pissed. “Don’t fucking touch me.” Yoongi finally realized around him that people were watching, looking back at Jimin.

And here came the ill-temper that Yoongi had when drunk.

“Are you fucking embarrassed of us? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Yn ; October 31th | 11:42 pm

You had found no one occupying Jin’s guest room, slowly leading Jungkook inside and locking it so no one could come busting inside and interrupting the two of you. Which was usually drunks and or people looking for places to fuck.

Jungkook sat on the end of the bed, his usual man spreading pose coming into your line of sight. It makes you blush, having to stop yourself from being anymore of a fool that you could possibly be.

“Hey, you can come sit too.” Patting with persistence you’re sitting down with a slight giggle that has Jungkook smiling back at you. He had noticed the blush that placed your cheeks, his starting to burn.

“You’re blushing.” You blurt out, that has Jungkook flinching as a slightly irritated look was on his face. “You’re the one who’s blushing.” He says, eyebrows furrowed as you look away from, trying to cool down your face.

“It’s because of you,” he speaks out, his straightforwardness never faulting in his personality. You turn your head to face him, face bright red with doe eyes piercing his gaze. “It’s because of you that is making me blush.”

At this moment your heart is beating fast, his body shifting closer to yours as you swallow hard. Jungkook has always been clear cut, always knew what he wanted, but when you came along, his dynamic changed. He wanted you, and he wanted to prove it.

“Tell me if you don’t want to.” That’s all he says as he waits for your response. Your heart almost about to burst out of your chest. You wanted this, for him to kiss you again and to be wrapped up in just him. “Go ahead..”

That is all you had to say before his lips are in the space of yours, hearts beating at the same pace together. His hand slowly creeped up and intermingled with yours. Your stomach filled with butterflies, his warmth and smell surrounding your senses.

The next thing you knew, you were spread out on the sheets of Jin’s guest room, Jungkook’s flushed face and deep breaths as he doesn’t know what he wants to do first. “I don’t have a condom.” He says, because obviously he didn’t think he would be over your naked body like this, about to fuck you like this.

Your response is filled with shyness, the fact you’ve never let someone look at you like this, and because he didn't know he looked so adorable at this moment. Hair standing up every which way, eyes hooded, and cheeks pink. “You can continue..”

“Is this your first time?" He asks as though that should be the response to what was about to happen. You can't help the giggle that tumbles from your lips, gesturing along to his slightly shocked face. "Yeah, it is."

He's coming over to you, looking you in the eyes as you slightly bite a hold on your lip. "Ah, uhm okay. I’ll be gentle, just tell me if anything is hurting." He talks distractedly as he investigates your body and you can't tell if he’s nervous or just doesn't know what he’s doing.

Whenever he's settled on his decision, he's moving to lay over you once more, your legs spread out towards him. Going to press another kiss to your mouth, however you're halting him before your lips are contacting. "You can chill too, you know? I don’t expect this to be perfect."

He’s nodding his head, before sitting up and pulling his shirt off his head, which was the last article of clothing that made the two not fully naked.

"How about you ride me," An idea that plainly flew into his head, however he's finishing, moving back and onto his back. You couldn’t help the blush that crept up on your face the minute his hands came in contact with your waist, placing you above his torso.

He’s moving to align himself perfectly with your entrance, a slight moan escaping from your lips the minute you're slowly slipping to be seated on him. He groans, his hands coming to make a place on your hips. You didn’t know what to do at first, this had been your first time, and it wasn’t like you were taking notes on how to be fucked.

It was the way he would moan differently that had you figuring out a better pace for the both of you. His head had been placed back into his pillow, at an angle to where he could watch how your tits would bounce and exactly how your wetness would pool down onto his dick. “God fuck baby, you feel so fucking good.”

His words rolled off his tongue with such ease, you hadn’t been uncomfortable at all by his dirty talk. And he knew that just by the way your walls would clench and a longed out whine would slip past your lips. If you did that again he probably would have cum right then and there.

His hands held a tighter grasp on your hips the minute you were placing your hands to rest on his chest, your hips rolling at a quicker pace, his dick rubbing up and down on your walls. “Fuck..” His tip slips back as you bring down your hips back onto him.

“Yeah baby, just like that." He praises, voice stressed as he feels his cock jerk somewhere inside you. He's not even sure where you learned this, because plot twist you didn’t learn it anywhere. Your pussy fixes around him at the finish of his words and it pushes him to the edge, making him throw his head back again.

It’s when he’s feeling his high coming that he’s moving your back, your chest pressed to his as he’s moving his legs and thrusting into your pussy. You moan loudly, his nails digging into your hips as your hands are tangled in his hair. Lips finding each other as you could feel your climax reaching too.

He doesn’t stop his fast thrusts until your moaning non stop, the feel of your nails digging hard into his hair, legs shaking uncontrollably as the two of you are hitting your climax. The sound of his moans mixing with yours as the only person you thought about was him.

His arms stay around your body until the roll of your hips transforms into little jerks, gasped breaths hitting his neck which has him smiling softly. His neck cranes so he can get a decent glance at your face, a fucked out smile on your face. “Damn, dick that good?” He teases as he feels a huff pressed to his skin.

You're fast to turn in his arms, scrunching your nose as you gaze toward him. "You suck, you really looked hot in that costume," He laughs loudly at that, as he rests his nose in the crook of your neck. You're immediately loaded up with warmth as his arms wrap themselves around your waist. He wanted nothing but to stay in this moment with you.

An all around recognizable feeling starts to pool in your stomach. It was beginning to get harder to contain your complete infatuation with Jungkook, to hold yourself back from falling excessively fast. The way he had been holding onto you gently, drawing circles with his fingertips, and even humming softly, you knew you were fucked.

Yn ; November 1st | 12:37 pm

Soon enough Jungkook is slipping away from your grasp, checking the constant notifications dinging from his phone which made him shoot up from the bed and hurry up to put on his clothes.

“Woah- Is everything okay?” You ask, pulling the sheets with you to cover yourself. Jungkook could see the worried expression on your face, “Yeah baby, don’t worry Hoseok needs me down stairs, Jimin and Yoongi are fighting.”

The minute you are hearing his words, you have to digest. First, he called you baby and boy did you like it, and second Jimin and Yoongi were fighting? You were shocked, hurrying to get out of bed but Jungkook is stopping you.

“No. You stay here okay? I’ll come back after it’s all done, it’s just so you don’t get hurt.” That’s all he says before he’s rushing out of the room leaving you with a shocked and worried feeling.

It had been about twenty minutes and Jungkook still hadn’t come back, so you decided that you would go see what was going on by yourself.

Walking down the stairs in one of Jin’s hoodies and shorts, you heard a lot of yelling, but most importantly crying. Slipping through a few people your heart almost broke at the sight.

Jungkook had been holding back Yoongi as Hoseok and Jin did the same with Jimin, Yoonig’s face streaming with tears, eyes red and nose bloodshot. “Why the fuck are you so scared huh?? Am I nothing to you?!?” He screams, trying to claw out of Jungkook’s hold as Jimin’s eyes are just as hurt as Yoongi’s are. “I never said shit about that Yoongi! I just wished you would have given me time!”

Yoongi can’t control what he’s feeling at that point, tears still streaming as he’s still trying to fight his way out of Jungkook's hold. “You’re my fucking boyfriend Jimin?! Why is that so hard to accept??” Everyone is shocked as Jimin breaks down. You had never seen Yoongi so hurt before, never seen him cry and sure as hell never seen him interested in someone. Jimin doesn’t even look Yoongi in the eyes before he’s leaving, slipping past people who were recording, tears streaming through both of their eyes. Yoongi screams after him, begging him to stop walking and come back but Jimin doesn't and you could tell it broke Yoongi more.

Soon enough Jin announces the party will continue and for no one to panic as him and Jungkook lead Yoongi up towards his room, trying to calm down the crying guy with every walk.

You needed something to drink after that, today was a lot to process and a drink from whatever was in the bottle that was in your hand would suffice. “Now bitch, boy do I have some tea to spill for you.” Lou’s voice rang from beside you, a bright smile on her face.

She instantly notices you’re in Jin’s clothes, but decides that she’ll ask you about it later, but first she needs to tell you about what she just experienced. “Girlfriend guess who just kis-” She doesn’t even get to finish her sentence before someone is walking up.

Lou steps beside you the second her personal space is being invaded, the look on the guys face nasty and uncomfortable. “I’m glad I finally found you again, I never got to ask your name before that one guy came.”

From the way Lou shudders and the way he talks you can tell she’s met him and doesn’t want to again. “Listen dude, she’s not interested.” You speak up, but the guy doesn’t take his hint, a sour look on his face the minute you’re interjecting.

“Listen bitch, why don’t you go get fucked somewhere else alright?”

He’s motioning towards Jin’s clothes, a ping in your chest the minute you realise he just slut shamed you, an instant feeling of discomfort coming through your skin. Lou is seconds from saying something before Taehyung is stepping behind the guy and coughing loudly.

The guy falters, looking over his shoulder and swallowing down. “You know what? I think my friend just called me.” No one gets to say anything before he’s walking fastly away, a worried expression on Taehyung’s face. “Yn? You alright?”

You couldn’t move, the minute you are hearing the concerned voices of Lou and Taehyung has you unintentionally crying. Taehyung doesn’t know what to do when he sees this, softly reaching out and grabbing a hold on your arm and pulling you into a hug.

Jungkook ; November 1st | 1:13 pm

Jungkook helps Jins put Yoongi on his bed before he’s walking across the room into the guest room and being hit with emptiness. He rushed downstairs and looked across the house only to see people going back to what they were doing.

It’s when he looks toward the kitchen that he sees you, but what he sees makes his thoughts run loose. He couldn’t deny that since the day he had proposed to “fake date” that maybe you still thought of it like that and even so, liked Taehyung.

He was pissed, pissed because now he was convincing himself that you played him, pissed at himself for slowly falling for you when he shouldn’t have. He’s walking over towards the kitchen area and clawing you out of Taehyung’s grasp. “Man what the fuck.” Taehyung frowns hard at the younger guy, but Jungkook isn’t looking at him.

“I think it’s time to end the deal.” Jungkook seethes through his teeth, his jaw clenched as you looked confused. Lou and Taehyung were confused behind him. “Jungkook why are you ups-” He doesn’t let you finish, the grip on your hand tight. “I was stupid to think you liked me, but you know what that’s what I get huh? I mean I was the one who suggested for you to fake date me to get over Taehyung for Lou. But even still it looks like Taehyung likes you over her.”

“You did WHAT??” And that’s when shit hits the fan. Jungkook’s eyes widen the minute he realizes what he’s said, Lou scrunching her fists around the cup she had in her hands, liquid spewing out.

“What a load of bullshit.” She doesn’t even look at Jungkook, her cold gaze directed towards you. You had seen this look before, always toward her mom or her brother when they severely pissed her off, but now it was directed toward you for the first time.

“I knew it was all fucking weird. But you two seriously took me for a fucking fool huh? I can’t believe this is what you do behind my back.” You were scrambling, trying your best to not break down. “Lou it’s not what you think-” She doesn’t let you finish either, grabbing a bottle of alcohol and throwing it on the floor, breaking it. “So this is the kind of friend you take me for!!” She looks you dead in the eyes, before turning around and realizing that Taehyung had heard Jungkook’s words. She couldn’t do this, turning around fully and running away, out the house or somewhere in the house, just anywhere away from there.

You push your way out of Jungkook’s grasp, making him realize that he fucked up the minute that he’s watching your back, your figure running away and out the house. You had just lost your best friend and the guy you were falling for all in one night.

↫ masterlist ↬

— "first loves have always been confusing, but when you're bestfriend confesses she likes someone, your willing to do anything, even fake date and even so, find your first love."

⇆a/n: if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask - (if you aren’t being tagged. turn notifications on)

TAGLIST: @pjmriri @yoongiofmine @shatzkrinslinzki @sereni-soo @avke @betysotelo18 @she-is-dreaming @jkslachimolala @rageyoudamnednerd @teti-menchon0604 @peachy-skz0325 @shreyuuu @pvt-only @lovelytaes-blog @awseokjin @girlwiththeglittereyeliner @tanumiki

284 notes · View notes

blxetsi · 4 years

Note

Hi! Can I please request modern au hcs for Armin?

tysm for requesting !!

modern armin arlert dating headcanons

lowercase intended !

college!armin arlert x gn!reader

- okay so

- i think in a college setting you and armin hit it off really well

- i think you guys wouldve just accidentally kept bumping into each other, whether it be around campus, at some coffee shop, in the library

- it gets so frequent you dont even know if its a coincidence at this point, yet you cant help but hope that you seem him whenever you go out

- after ALWAYS bumping into each other and apologizing before making small talk, armin makes the first move

- mf just says "are you following me ?" to which you reply "are YOU following me ?"

- that night ends in you two exchanging numbers 🤩

- you find out that hes a humanities major, and wants to be a psychologist some day

- you also find out he has a paid internship at a research facility near the university you attend

- hes super sweet but also super humble, so he tries not to keep the subject on himself for very long, just wanting to know more about you

- as you two get closer he gets more touchy (not in a weird way)

- he starts greeting you with hugs now, and likes to have a light grip on your wrist when hes leading you through crowded hallways of the school

- he introduced you to his bestfriends and roommates, mikasa and eren, and they were really accepting !! (they already could tell armin liked you even if he didnt know himself)

- you start developing feelings for him about two months after you exchanged numbers, and you honestly felt really weird

- because this beautiful boy whos so sweet and kind and intelligent is like,, wayyyy out of your league

- armin thinks the exact same thing

- he thinks youre so cool and fun to be around, you always have the best stories to tell and are so welcoming,, its HARD not to fall for someone like you !!

- finally he gets up the courage to ask if you can come to his apartment

- and there he confesses 😳💥‼️

- you sit there shocked for a couple seconds too long because now hes freaking out like "im so sorry i didnt wanna seem creepy i just wanted to tell you how i felt you can leave or i can walk you home- wait you probably wouldnt want that but-"

- you just kind of grab his shoulders and start shaking him. before you tell him you like him too.

- the apples of his cheeks turn pink before he smiles and gives you such a tight hug !!

- hes immediately planning a date with you for when youre both free

- takes you to the local aquarium 🤩 and kisses you in front of the moon jellies (u know those big tanks with the jellyfish that are like glow in the dark ?? and the whole hallway is pitch black except for the lights from the tank ?? yeah ❤️ he kissed you THERE and it was beautiful)

- has chapped lips 😐 sorry i dont make the rules

- has a habit of picking them when hes working or lost in thought

- doesnt mean you stop kissing him tho

- is the kind of guy that will genuinely get worried if you send an "sos" type message. gets out of his own class just to speedwalk (he isnt gonna break the rules and run in the halls 🙄) and come to your class just to see if youre okay

- looks at you like 😐 when you explain you just need him to get you an iced coffee from that shitty coffee place in the cafeteria

- does it anyway even though hes annoyed 😌✨

- will grumble about paying him back for the five dollars he just spent on you while you kiss him over and over again in thanks

- doesnt let you pay him back though smh 🙄

- loves to give back hugs

- will do it while youre working, or while youre doing the dishes

- if youre shorter than him he'll rest his head on your and just smell your hair

- if youre taller than him hes shoving his face inbetween your shoulder blades

- is such a lightweight drunk its not even funny

- none of his friends are tbh 🙄

- the first time you saw him drunk was when eren dragged you guys out to a party their friend was hosting (literally interrupted your cuddle time in armins bed to THROW OFF THE BLANKETS and say "you guys are coming with me 😁👍" and when you two said no he TURNED ON THE LIGHTS and ruined the vibe 😐 fucking asshole)

- anyways you two had to change back into your clothes at 9pm just to go to a shitty party that was gonna get busted by the cops anyways 😔💔

- you couldnt find him through the sea of people, and u got really worried until armin called you

- it was not armin on the other line 😁👍

- he said his name was reiner ?? and he said he was with armin bc he puked while playing beer pong

- the guy tells you where they are and you go to find them. theyre sitting on this couch in a backroom and theres only like,, five people in total there ??

- armin is SOBBING while reiner is trying to get him to drink water

- "reiner you dont get it,,, theyre so beautiful. i cant compete. i dont even think theyd wanna be with me. and you have to see them talk about their major. theyre so smart you dont understand." "okay buddy lets just finish this water okay ?"

- armin is leaning his shoulder on this GIANT of a man just going on about how much he loves you and how amazing he finds you. until you tap his shoulder. and then he realizes youve been listening this entire time. and then he starts crying because he doesnt want you to find him weird. and then you have to explain to him that you two are dating. where he doesnt believe you still.

- eren ends up giving you the keys to his car and saying "ill just call you when i need a ride back" and reiner CARRIES armin to the car 😭😭😭

- hes a real gentleman 😁👍

- that morning armin remembers EVERYTHING and is MORTIFIED

- calls reiner immediately like "did people see me puke ? oh god am i gonna be talked about ?"

- has very vivid dreams and remembers all of them ?? will literally tell you about a dream he had when he was five and WILL NOT forget a detail. its weird

- his family actually doesnt seem like they like you 😳 not because they dont theyre just very,, quiet people...... except for his grandfather

- doesnt even care who you are to armin, will pull you down on the couch with him to tell you about all his research and findings as an archeologist (before he retired)

- if youre ever feeling sad about anything, whether that be stress, family problems, or body image issues, armins taking you to his place 😁👍

- he'll cuddle you and whisper how much he loves you while you two are watching something on his laptop

- has acne scars on his shoulders. dont make fun of him for it pls

- loves getting back scratches though, the tingles make him feel really calm

- if you have like,, makeup brushes and stuff he likes it when you brush his face with them, no product or anything but the tingles he gets from it 🤤

- over time his parents warm up to you quiet a bit, and when his mom shows you baby photos and from him as a kid youre SHOCKED.

- he had this little bob cut from when he was ten to his teens 🥺🥺🥺🥺

- when you two are walking back home or wherever you cant help but go on about how cute he was and how healthy and pretty his hair looked (not that its not healthy or pretty now) and he just giggles before pulling you into his side and kissing your cheek while saying "okay baby, ill grow it out just for you then"

- also loves the petnames baby, angel, and love

- will gladly let you steal his sweaters. has a really nice knit one that his grandma made him before she died. that ones off limits.

- doesnt like to fight, but when he feels like hes in the right he wont hesitate to yell back when youre yelling at him

- just dont yell at him pls, it makes him sad

- it takes him a while (and by a while i mean like 30 minutes at most) before his texting you asking if you guys can talk about it

- its really easy for you two to make up, and immediately hes hugging you and just asking if you wanna do something with him

- also, cuts his own hair ?? and would cut yours if you asked. mikasa vouches for him "yeah he trims my hair all the time. why ?"

- every year on your anniversary hes taking you to the aquarium. and he always kisses you as softly as he did the very first time, in the dark hallway of the moon jellyfish tank ✨

a/n

THATS ITTT !!! thanks again for requesting !! i hope you all enjoyed. remember asks are open !! u dont have to request headcanons either !!! go crazy friends !!

#attack on titan headcanons #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan #armin arlert #armin attack on titan #armin arlet x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin arlet #eren mikasa armin #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman

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nonbinaryspacegoo · 3 years

Text

the sudden reawakening of my special interest in portal has yet to die down and i am full of Thoughts

specifically im full of Thoughts about a core!chell and human!wheatley au

so uuhhh

portal 1:

* glados boots up the Test Core (Chell) and releases her into the test chamber, you know the drill

* eventually glados decides that this isnt all that interesting and goes to incinerate the core, only for said core to, against all odds, make a daring escape off her management rail and through a hole in the wall

* determined that no tech in HER facility will defy her, glados attempts to hunt the rogue ai down but the fact that chell was outfitted with a portal device attached to her hull makes it bizarrely hard

* somehow the little bastard makes it all the way to glados' chamber and takes her out but not before having her portal device removed and incinerated, and being shut down (for now!)

portal 2:

* chell is powered on after she is assigned to caring for sleeping test subjects. too bad theyre almost all dead

* chell goes through the survivors, waking them up and trying to help them through the test chambers to help her find her portal device and make her escape to the surface. they keep dying on her which is...less than ideal, but she Perseveres and eventually comes to her Lucky test subject, Wheatley [redacted]

* hes chatty, and his testing and puzzle solving techniques are strange and often involve breaking things, but chells a results kinda core and hes gotten further than any other human so who is she to question his methods

* he manages to find her a Personality Core Hull Attached Portal Device and attach it to her and they move on together

* eventually they come to the end of her management rail and she communicates that she wants him to catch her. there are two options for this: 1. he does manage to catch her in his arms and is promptly knocked to the ground under her not insignificant weight and velocity and gets to lie winded on the ground with a metal orb on his chest and a nose bleed. or 2. (bastard addition) he realises at the last second that Hey Thats A Big Metal Ball, gets war flashbacks to high school soccer practice, and promptly jumps back, letting chell hit the ground

* either way they move on glados' old chamber and wheatley openly wonders who finally took her down. they make it to the control panel and wheatley plugs her in. now either chell activating the lights or him hitting buttons at random boots up glados

* wheatley attempts to talk his way out but glados is much more interested in the little core who fucking MURDERED HER

* wheatley attempts to bargain for his freedom ("well i see you two have some history, how about you just pop me up to the surface and ill let you two catch up. (possible further dialogue depending on how much of a bastard you like your wheatleys) or maybe you should um, send her with me, i mean, seems reeeaaalllyy dangerous, and im sure youd want her far FAR away from you. so you could just... hand her over, send us to the surface, and we'll both be gone Forever, never have to worry about her coming for you ever again"

* glados informs him that since hes awake and gotten this far, though shes "sure the Testing Core did all the real work", he can start testing while she deals with this rogue (insert musing about how to make an AIs death as painful as possible here)

* at this moment chell manages to wrench herself free of the claw that was holding her and makes another bid for freedom. (she either 1. slips through another well-placed hole in the floor or 2. is quickly crushed and her lifeless body is tossed away as glados laments how easy she got off before turning her attention back on wheatley. either way she tosses him into a test chamber to get started

* wheatley goes through several tests before engaging an aerial faith plate only to spot chell, after several jumps he manages to get the gist of what shes trying to tell him (shes alive and shes going to get him out of there, just keep testing)

* chell does just that, busting her human out and taking off together

* wheatley comes up with a plan to take her down and they do it

* they manage to install chell as the new chasis. not sure what she does with glados but i am feeling wheatley kicks her severed head at one point

* now theres a few versions i can think of

1. chell betrayal: chell makes wheatley test instead of releasing him

2. wheatley is forced to sit around waiting for chell to try and find a way to get both of them out and many nasty words are said

3. wheatley betrayal: wheatley pulls some fuckery to try and ditch the core and send himself to the surface, or even shut the whole facility down, or maybe control the place through chell, either way its a bastard move.

* idk what happens after that part thats all i got plotwise lol

but here are a few little tidbits on core!chell

* she was built to keep glados entertained by running tests

* she does love doing puzzles and pushing herself but she does NOT care for being put down and the constant threat of death or dismemberment and she certainly doesnt care for people trying to kill her

* someone told her that there was a whole world outside the facility (im thinking glados, as a way to taunt her with the fact that shed never see it) and now she wants OUT

* does not speak. at all. ever. she has a vocal processor and should be able to but she doesn't

* based on how some people will "nod" and "shake their head" by jiggling the camera up and down or side to side, or jump to express their feelings while playing, i headcanon that she communicates via expression (as best a core can), lots of wiggling, pointedly looking between items of interest, and spinning

* heavier than most cores because she was built to withstand an absolute beating, with thicker plates and so on

* very impatient, very smart. surprisingly expressive, and can be pretty affectionate when things are going well

#chell #core!chell #portal #portal 2 #valve #wheatley #glados #mine #pls interact i wanna Talk #portal au #reverse au #human!wheatley

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deansawthetvglow · 4 years

Text

eternal skyline of a spotless mind- or the one where the first 5 or so minutes of 15x20 are the only minutes i accept.

in which i ramble a whole ficlet on accident and y’all i need the full fic. yes there’s a tinnnny bit of smut. also spn 15x20 spoilers slightly

now i want the fic where dean applies to be a mechanic, gets the job, does real good. he and miracle live in the bunker, sam and eileen moved out a year ago now to follow a job opportunity for eileen. it’s a big place to be alone in. he keeps watching over and over all of the movies he has in a file entitled ‘cas’ favourites’ he sips whiskey, a responsible amount, and pets miracles head while his head is on his lap. sometimes he dives into the lore, he’s glad sam isnt here to give him shit about finally doing his research, but he’s trying to find a way to cas. to save him. and one day he tries to mix up a spell thatll open a portal into the dark nothing and his ingredients sputter and spark and he thinks it’s gonna work this is it, and it just doesnt. the smoke clears, the sparks stop popping, and there’s nothing. and so that night he goes into the dungeon draped in one of cas’ old trenchcoats and he sits in that spot he had to sit years ago and he cries, and miracle sits beside him and he cries because he’s trying he’s trying to live for love he’s trying to do right by cas and he just....he cant...cas died thinking dean didnt...didnt love him. and god, does dean love him. so he cries and he whispers iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou and he falls asleep on the concrete, uses miracle as a pillow but dean doesnt think he minds. and he wakes up in the morning, eyes puffy, and he drags himself to work, and he’s back to square one. and this continues for a while, dean doesnt really remember when he tried the spell, but it’s been a while. a month, maybe more. and he goes into work, and there’s a new car for him to work on. it’s old, a classic, but dean kinda thinks she’s more junk than classic, sue him, and he starts working on it, and he opens the trunk to pop a particularly stubborn dent out of it, the client’s not paying for that but he just can’t let the car be driven around all beat up, and there, right in the trunk, is a trenchcoat. bundled up, and tan and big and dean grabs it, he shouldnt but he does and his heart is beating so fast as he brings it to his nose and smells it and it’s cas it has to be and so he rushes to the front office, demands to know who the client is, when are they coming by and as he’s going completely wild wanting to know everything it suddenly goes calm. because there, in a worn flannel and blue jeans, is cas. castiel. and dean just looks for a moment, to convince himself its real, and then hes rushing to a wide eyed cas and saying ‘you stupid son of a bitch’ and crashing his lips into those ones which he has wanted for and then cas isnt really kissing back so dean stops because he...he cant take anything more from cas, he needs to give and he...he stops himself because what if...what if this wasn’t what cas wanted, so he pulls back, lets his hands linger on the soft of the flannel, and then cas is speaking, head quirked, ‘do i...do i know you?’ and fuck. his heart drops right out of his ass. his knees buckles and hes on his way down when castiel catches him, pulls him up, hand on his shoulder, and he holds on to him. and dean lets out a ‘you don’t remember?’ and castiel says, ‘no. i...i dont i’m so sorry.’ and dean thinks all hope is lost until cas asks, ‘i know this is too much to ask but it...appears i know you, and i kind of just, woke up one day in a field and i...i dont really have anywhere to go..and um’ and hes rambling but he’s determined to get his little angel back, all the way back, so he says, ‘you wanna come home with me, angel?’ and cas grins and dean wants to see that grin everyday of his life. so he finishes cas’ car, lets him trail behind as they drive to the bunker. he doesn’t explain it really, just opens the door and says ‘well, heres the place’ and cas walks in and looks at everything with such wonder. and he brushes his fingers across the gold embossing of an angel on one of the books there and dean just watches, listens to cas breathing, aches to touch.

he sets cas up in his old room, cas quirks a head when he sees all the suits and ties in the closet, says something like ‘now i understand why i woke up looking like a tax accountant’ and hes being good old cas, sticking so close to dean and he’s sitting beside him to watch a movie and miracle is sprawled across their legs and cas says, ‘i could get used to this’ and dean says, ‘yeah cas, me too.’ so they sit and they watch and they repeat that day in day out and the bunker isnt so lonely anymore, and he and cas do everything together, and dean researches spells to get cas’ memory back. he thinks it has to do with the fact that his grace got ripped out in the process, theres a small nick on his adams apple that he recognizes as the place it must have left, but he coughs himself out of thinking about that neck and those lips and that hair and those thighs and- he hasnt kissed cas since the first day, he longs to. he sees the way this cas looks at him and he wonders. he wonders if maybe...maybe this castiel can learn to love him again. and it’s going on a year now. cas works down at the local flower shop and has an apiary on the hill above the bunker, deans still in his same routine of life, and they’re not...they’re in the same place they were before cas confessed. just, in this middle ground, this unspoken something, so as he lies beneath a car he decides, the happiness isnt in the having its in just being in just saying it, so he goes home that night, picks up flowers from a competing shop bc he doesnt wanna spoil the surprise, and sets up the table. cas’ name is still carved there, cas had laughed when he first saw it because “what kind of long name is that,” and dean was bursting with fond. and anyways he lays down a table cloth and lights a candle and waits. shaking in his skin just waiting for cas to get home, and then cas is walking in saying ‘hello, dean’ and running down the stairs, groceries in paper bags overflowing in his arms, and his hair is disheveled and dean helps grab a bag and puts it in the kitchen and waits for cas to follow and see...the set up. and cas asks, what’s this about? and dean looks at cas and takes a deep breath and says, ‘someone once told me there’s happiness in just....fuck...in just saying it so here goes. and its okay if you..if you dont but...’ and cas is getting closer, his head quirked and deans heart is beating out of his chest and he says ‘i love you.’ and then cas is rumbling, ‘dean, look at me’ and so he does, looks up into wide blue eyes and cas is smiling. smiling so big and beautiful and dean wants to hear it he needs to hear it he needs- ‘i love you too, dean winchester’ and then theyre kissing again, kissing and holding and deans a little embarrassed but hes crying and then theyre skipping dinner entirely and cas has his hand on deans bare shoulder and hes shivering into the touch its so overwhelming and he fucks himself down onto cas’ cock and cas digs his fingernails into deans thighs and looks up at him blue and beautiful and overwhelming and deans pretty sure he blacks out when he comes except, he doesnt, because his eyes are open and the lights in the room are all busted and cas is lying there under him looking up, dean thinks so at least, he can’t really see him and so he laughs and he laughs and he’s not really registering what happened, a beautifully timed power outage like something divine saying this is how you met and he’s here still and you finally have him and so he climbs off of cas and grabs something to wash them up and a candle or two from the table and when he comes back, and wipes the damp cloth gingerly across cas’ body he notices cas tense and he sees in the candlelight cas is looking very serious and he stops being sweet just asks ‘cas? whats wrong’ and cas says, ‘dean? dean. dean winchester... dean...righteous soul the one i fell for and will always fall for the one i love the one i have always...’ and dean dives back on top of cas and kisses him senseless because now cas remembers everything before and he remembers everything after and everything now and its perfect

and honestly they still arent really sure what happened except that maybe the spell needed angel mojo so it snagged it from cas or maybe the empty curled itself around cas mind and all it needed was the Loud of too many emotions to overflood it but all that matters is that they are here together.

and then one day, at the dinner table, cas looks at dean and he says ‘dean, will you....’ and he shuffles inside his pocket and presses a box into deans hand and its- ‘will you marry me?’ and dean is practically leaping over the table to kiss cas and saying “yes yes yes of course of course i wanna grow old with you i wanna be with you always in life and death in everything always together”

and cas is crying because he could have what he wanted, he has the one thing he wants most and dean wants him most too.

and then dean is pulling back and cas is looking pensive and he says, ‘there is one thing, dean.’ and dean looks worried so he places his hand on his knee and he says, ‘i want to be human, all the way human.’ and dean looks like he wants to protest or cry and hes not sure which it is but then dean is crying and saying ‘ill help’ and then the next day theyre out with the bees, because cas thinks his grace will do them good, and dean holds cas’ hand in his tightly and follows that little nick on his throat and opens it ever so slightly with the angel blade and tries not to think about how hes hurting the person he loves and he loves and he loves and then the grace is flowing away and dean captures it in a bottle, hands it to cas, who later pats it down in the ground so they can grow a new tree, and dean gives cas two little stitches on his throat and kisses all around them and washes cas hair for him in the shower and then

when the day comes, they go together, they get to live with one another and watch the sunsets on their front porch with miracle and jack and sam and eileen all looking out over an eternal skyline.

#woops this was an accident i #destiel #deancas #destiel coda #spn spoilers #destiel ficlets #spn 15x20 #spn 15x20 coda #angel !!#king !!#long post

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yn-dreamlife · 4 years

Text

Our Princess

Ok so like I don't know if ya’ll have seen the interview or whe=atever where BTS dresses up as Princes and then proceed to like kiss each other on the cheek and stuff but imagine like you're there and they dress you up as a princess and like.... yeah. (Heres the interview if you haven't seen it)

BTS x reader (OT7 x reader)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: fluff, low-key smut/lemon, mentions of smut, cuteness, nicknames, eventual shy reader use of the word daddy/daddies (like once)

Images not mine just found them on the internet but I did make the collage.

As I sneak into the back of the building I have to stifle a gleeful giggle at the sound of my boyfriends laughter. I can tell at this moment its Namjoon and Taehyng laughing and my heart swells at the thought of them.

I truly am blessed to have such seven amazing boyfriends. And im blessed to have a friend who's willing to sneak me into this interview, of course I could have just told them the truth and come with them but this would be better.

I just got back from my world tour and while most of it they where with me the last month (give or take) they had to return home. They called me to ask when I would be home and when I heard they where having an interview at the place my friend works I quickly lied so I could surprise them.

They’ve done it to me tons of times before, it’s only fair I get to do the same. And hey if this happens to be how we officially tell the fans we’re together then I’m okay with that. Sadly im not actually sure what this interview is and y/f/n wouldn't tell me.

“y/f/n!” I groan as she drags me away from where my feet were already carrying me.

“Sorry y/n/n but I gotta get you in the proper attire first.” She says winking.

I look at her suspiciously “you’re not sending me out in lingerie or some shit right?” She sputters before quickly yelling at me in a hushed whisper how they don't do that here and I couldn't help but chuckle, “just checking.”

She rolls her eyes pushing me into a room and locking the door behind us, sometimes the boys need to leave an interview during break just to be alone and it would ruin the surprise of me being here if one barged in.

As I finally look around I gape at the big ball gown right in the center. “Woah! What lucky duck gets to where that?!” I gasp admiring the beautiful dark blue dress.

“You” She states like its a simple fact like humans need to breathe.

“M-me- What?!” I look at her dumb founded and she just smiles.

“Mmmhmmm!” She hum happily pulling it off the mannequin. I waste no time undressing and quickly putting the dress on before she changes her mind or something.

I feel giddy as the dress slides on my body. “y-y/f/n” I stutter out staring at myself in the mirror as she quickly applies some makeup and puts my hair up in an elegant updo.

“Hmm?” she hums.

“I look-” You pause truly speechless.

“Absolutely amazing?” You nod silently, “of course you do! With me as your stylist where could you go wrong?!” She chirps happily as she looks at her watch.

“Are we to late? Did this take to long?!” I ask worried trying to ignore my growing disappointment.

“What?! No! Just trying to see if they’re all dressed and ready. You’re going to be the last one to go as our surprise guest.... and it looks like its time!” She says as her phone chimes.

I stand up hands sweaty so I wipe them on a towel. “Wont they see me as I enter?”

She shakes her head, “no they’ll be turned around and blindfolded incase someone tries to peak.” She says winking, “oh and you will be too!”

“What?!” I exclaim shocked.

“Yep... haha kinda for the whole beginning half.” she says scratching the back of her neck.

“W-wha -why?!” I asked in a hush voice as she leads me out of the room.

“You’ll see.” She whispers placing a silky blindfold carefully on my face, not tight enough to ruin my makeup. I sigh as we continue walking.

“Alright boys! Are you guys excited?!” y/f/n asks excitedly. she whispers for you to sit back and you do so carefully.

“Yes!” Jungkook says excitedly. “I want to see this mysterious beautiful princess!” I can hear the smile in his voice and ignore the slight ache. ‘He’s doin it for the fans, they dint know about us yet.’ I remind myself.

“May I ask a question?” I hear Namjoon ask.

“Of course!” y/f/n says.

“How old is this princess?” He asks I assume I’m supposed to answer but a hand is slapped over my mouth before I can do so.

“She’s around all of your age!” she says quickly as Namjoon hums thoughtfully. You nod remebering they don't know its you yet.

“Can I please please please take the blindfold off now?!” I hear Hoseok asks and I almost ‘aww’ at him but I refrain.

“No.” y/f/n, states simply. “-First” she says cutting of there groans of frustration. “I want you to guess who it is.” She says, “Or who you hope for it to be.”

“Papa Mochi!” I hear Jimin cheer happily and I almost bust out laughing but I quickly cover my mouth.

“That’s a guy!” y/f/n says exasperated like she's heard this all day.

“fine!” he groans, “ummm Kumiko!” Jimin says.

“Is that just a random person?” She asks and when I don't hear anything but a sigh from her I assume he just shrugged. I shake my head smiling as I listen to a bunch of random names leave there lips.

“Kaede” I hear Namjoon next.

“Iva” Jungkook says

“Koge” Jin spoke next.

Now it was Hobis turn “Rai”

Taehyng waited a second before also replying, “Risako”

“Ishi” Yoongi speaks calmly.

“What do you all just have a random store of names in your head?!” Y/f/n asks exasperated. I can hear the smirk in her voice when she speaks next, “Surprised none you said your best friends name.”

“She’s still on tour.” Tae says rather roughly.

“Calm,” Namjoon whispers but I still caught it, ‘just how close to them am I?’ I wonder reaching my hand out only to meet the fabric of someones shirt.

“Wah!” He exclaims and I recognize it as Taehyung. ‘So I’m very close.’ I think to myself. “Uh thanks...” he mutters moving his shoulder away. ‘cute.’ I think.

“Jeez sore subject haha sorry folks,” she pauses and clears her throat before continuing. “Anywho go ahead and take off the blindfolds!” She says and as I go to reach for my own a hand on my wrists stops me.

“Not you m-lady.” She says in a fake accent. I hit her hand away pouting.

‘Lame.’ I think to myself bitterly.

“If she can't see us why is it fair we get to see her?” Yoongi questioned. ‘Thank you!’ I thought exasperated. She groans.

“ugh! fine! Party pooper, you can keep your mask on too!” She chirps and my shoulders sag, ‘so much for that.’

“Fine” he says and I can hear him sit back down. I hear the others collectively gasp as I assume they remove there masks.

“What? Who is it?” Namjoon speaks this time, ‘so he kept his blindfold on too.’

“You two are gonna wanna see this!” I hear Jungkook say and I can hear the grin in his voice. It makes me smile and I wave shyly biting my lip.

“Y-Y/n?!” I hear them both exclaim. My grin widens.

“Y/f/n get this damn blindfold off me I want to see my bo-” I cut myself off, “My boys!” I say in a rush. She groans

“Okay but you'll have to wear it again for one of our games.” She states matter-o-factly. I Quickly rip it off and my smile gets impossibly larger as I see them all standing there.

“Look at all of you!” I say grinning as I stare at all of them in there prince outfits. A noticeable warmth spreading to my cheeks, ‘shit they look really good.’

Before I can think more on how amazing they look I am quickly picked up and spun around by Namjoon. I laugh gleefully as he does so, me and him spent the least amount of time together on FaceTime over the past few weeks sadly, both busy at the wrong times. But that doesn't mean we didnt catch each other eventually.

“Why didnt you tell us you where coming?” Jimin asks swiping in as soon as joon set me down to hug me and the rest of the boys followed.

“To surprise you of course!” I say grabbing Yoongis cold hand as he pulls away.

“Well it worked!” kook exclaimed.

“Yeah this is almost as good as papa mocha right jimin-ah?” Hobbi says nudging him.

“Hey don't be like that!” He says as he stares at me helplessly. I laugh at this.

“No, no I think chim would have preferred Papa Mocha right Jin?” I say looking at the handsome man.

He smirks, “I dunno... maybe” I laugh bending over slightly as I do so missing the way all there yes where trained on me.

“Alrght alright, enough of the gooey best-friend stuff!” y/f/n says. “We’re gonna take a break to give you seven time to prepare and poor y/n here time to enjoy herself before our next game.” she says about to walk away.

“Wait! Whats the next game?!” I ask.

“You’ll see.” As the cameras are turned off we are all sent away, the boys walk with my to ‘my room’ but we all know cameras where there to catch what would be said and whatnot so we stopped in the middle of both and I turned to all of them smiling widely.

“You should have told us!” Taehyng grumbles as he clings onto you from behind nuzzling his head into your neck.

“If I did that I wouldn't have been able to see you get all angry at the thought of me being away any longer.” I said bopping his nose and his own cheeks reddened.

“Oh yeah, guess you heard that huh?” I make a mhm sound and he hides further in my neck as I giggle.

“So kookie was I pretty enough to be worth it? Was I a good enough mysetery beauty princess?” I ask, he bends down cupping my cheek, “The only one who fits the bill,” he whispers placing a kiss on my lips.

“Hey knock it off!” I say as a blush creeps its way onto my cheeks. They all laugh at that.

We go to our own rooms and I sit waiting impatiently. Ten or so minutes later y/f/n comes back and pulls me into the room again and sits me back in the chair.

“Okay so our next game is called... drumroll please!” All the boys smack there hands on there thighs, “Blush-rush!” She declares.

“What?! Oh no!” I say exasperated “grrr curse you y/f/n!” I say shaking my fist at her as the boys laugh.

“Yeah yeah thats the witches job not yours m-lady.” I scoff. “Ok! theres two rounds! One action round and one verbal round! y/n sets the boundaries, and you boys follow them but otherwise your good. Your goal? Make y/n blush as long and as deeply as possible.” She says looking to you to set the rules.

“Ok obviously you boys know the no-no squares.” You say simply and they all chuckle nodding. “Okay, uhhhh I guess..Oh! No yelling in my ear!” You glare at Jungkook then remembering when you where still best friends and he screamed in your ear to wake you up, while acting out how he would wake his future girlfriend.

He holds his hand up defensively and I shake my head at him smiling. “I don't know! You guys know me, so you know whats to far!” I said shrugging. They all nodded smiling, they know old boundaries of when we where trying to hide it from the fans are off the table, we’ve seen the theories and there isn't any negativity towards them so we figured why not.

If it comes out it comes out, if not then thats okay to. We’re happy ether way, it was a group decision.

“Alrighty then lets get going!” She says smiling. “Boys pick which one you do first-” she gets cut off by an enthusiastic Namjoon.

“Words!” He says quickly and all the boys quickly nod in agreement. I can't help but laugh.

“Alrighty then y/n back on with the blindfold.” I groan but put it on anyways.

it’s a long moment of silence before I hear anything at all, quickly thoughts of being alone flood into my mind but are quickly washed away by someones breathe hot on my ear.

“Baby girl,” Instantly I recognize Jin, “you should have told us you where coming, we could have welcomed you home properly.” my eyes widen beneath my mask knowing full well what usually happens when we reunite.

I clear my throat trying to avoid the blush on my cheeks. “Don't try to hide it princess,” Namjoon says his voice deep and on my other side, I can feel the warmth from the two bodies next to me. “You always react so well, such a beautiful blush.”

This time I can't stop my cheeks from turning pink. “Little one~” It’s Jungkook, completely different from the excited adorable one who just minutes ago was excited to see a mysterious princess “doing so good, you’ve barely blushed so far.” He purrs but then chuckles deeply “Or you weren't blushing.” I groan slightly as I shift in my seat.

‘Damnit only three of them have-’ “Hello Kitten,” ‘Yoongi, shit’. “Look at you, don't you look so pretty?” He says and I know if he could he would run his hands threw my hair right now.

“Hello my little flower,” I hear another voice right next to my ear, ‘hello hobi’ I chuckle. “Something funny? Or you just like the way we’re making you feel?” I don't answer and he just chuckles at that.

“Hello my little angel~” Jimin practically purrs into my ear just like Yoongi. “I love your dress, it would look better on my bedroom floor though, don't you think?” I try to shake off his words but of course the blush continues to grow.

I know who has to be coming next and I’m not surprised when I hear his deep voice, “Hi baby, are you happy to be surrounded by your daddies?” He whispers in my ear and by now the blush has moved down my necks and up to my ears.

“Yes how are-” Jin gets cut off by y/f/n.

“Alright alright!” She cuts in, “jeez guys I said make her blush, not kill her... you seven jeesh.” She pulls the blindfold off and I look up to see all seven of them around me smirks on there faces.

‘uh-oh’ I look down not able to stare at them any longer, its to much I’m already warm enough. I didnt think they would be so.... suggestive.

They chuckle as they see my cheeks warming up again. “I have to go cool off in the bathroom!” I say quickly standing up and moving to the hallway. I lean against a wall breathing deeply.

“Damn you.” I sigh as I cover my face, even the after thought makes me blush.

“y/n?” I hear y/f/n, I look up at her smiling softly. “We can't make it a silent part, no one would no what they said and we all sign privacy policy contracts.” She said seriously.

“Oh it’s fine I just was shocked really,” I huff out a laugh, “but lets make it silent, I want to see what our fans come up with.” She grins nodding.

I go back out smiling reassuringly at the boys who all relax visibly. I sit back in the seat preparing myself for the next round. I breathe deeply as y/f/n gives the all clear as I watch Hobi approach.

Truth be told I don't know what I was expecting but I wasn't expecting him to just sand in-front of me forcing eye contact, thats for sure. So when it got to be to much I quickly looked away, and thats how I knew I fell into the trap. His finger making its way under my chin to turn my face towards him as he leans in closer.

And just when I think he might kiss me he pulls way smirking and I purse my lips to prevent a smile. So caught up in the moment I didn't realize Yoongi slipped behind me until I felt his hands move down my exposed shoulders only to go back up and move towards my collar bones. Goosebumps forming on my heated flesh.

He drew his hands away drawing them close to my throat. Jimin also comes up not hesitating to move his hand from my cheek to my neck where he hovers placing slight pressure from his finger tips almost like from one of the first few videos he took of my where instead of doing the face smooshy thing he went and choked me.

I know my face is beat red by now but there is still four more to go. I smile as Jungkook comes up to me, he wouldn't do anything to bad- I’m instantly proven wrong as his arms go around my middle, feather light touches moving over my sides the same way he does when I’m blindfolded and- ‘nope! don't go there then you WILL blush more!’ He smirks triumphantly knowing that was enough.

Taehyung is much more.... pg I suppose as he peppers my face with kisses repeatedly, but I realize that that he was just to prepare me for when Namjoon sneaks up behind my sticking his face in my neck. He is sure to hide what exactly he’s doing by his position but I feel his lips moving up and down my neck going to the spot by my ear.

Jin is the last, and what he does is simple but effective. He simply takes me off the chair and places me right onto his lap, and of course once again by now my face is beet red and they’ve surely beaten me since Hobi, but it was more fun to let them all go.

After that the interview was basically done we stayed for about an hour more before we all decided to drive home. I was in my car with just Jungkook and Namjoon while the others went in there car. Im sitting in the back in Namjoon’s lap, yes there was a perfectly good seat beside him but honestly neither one of them cared and I loved the contact.

We where stopped at a stop light the conversation at a comfortable silence when I spoke up. “You guys where very... open.” I say as I hide my face in Joons neck. he chuckles his hands moving up and down my back.

“What can we say, not seeing you for, what a month? Add onto that the opportunity to publicly do anything we want with you, well we have to do everything we can.” he said smirking squeezing my hips.

“Well not everything.” Jungkook says winking in the rear view mirror and once again I blush as a giggle leaves my lips.

It’s a week later when I go onto youtube and find the latest conspiracy video for the eight of us shockingly. It’s videos of us over the whole time we had been dating, proof of the long time relationship. I smile as I show the boys and we reminisce on the old videos.

I decide to post a picture on my instagram from the interview, one of the seven of them in there costumes and then one of me with each of them alone, namjoons was one of my favorites, not that I didnt love them all of them but one of the camera men caught the moment he picked me up and spun me around and I knew I would always treasure it. I put the caption, “My princes.”

Seeing this they put a picture on there official insta saying “Our princess.” No one truly asked any questions, they all just knew. The comments where filled with friends saying finally, and fans agreeing saying how happy they where. And we where too. We truly would have a happily ever after.

Hey guys my request an taglist’s are always open! Thank you!

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ddaenggtan · 5 years

Text

black irises in the sunshine | kth

anger is everything. other gods tease you for the short fuse, but it comes with the territory. people have called you stupid, have called you dumb, oafish, useless, incompetent, insolent, rude, arrogant. all of it. insults and mockery flung at you, but even your skin isn’t thick enough to deal with constant abuse. it’s the exact reason you keep going to the underground, knuckles bloody and bruised, fighting anyone that dared enter the cage. it’s the reason you go to the clubs, surround yourself with mortals and their writhing bodies. it’s there that you see him the first time, voice husky as it rolls through the room. it’s there you find someone who treats you differently than the rest. you just never expected him to be one of the muses. | monsters and gods pt 3 (masterlist)

pairing | taehyung x reader

genre/warnings | greek god au, calliope!taehyung, ares!reader, theres a lot of violence and it does get descriptive so be aware of that, none of the main characters other than ares get hurt and its not uncalled for or anything in a narrative sense, so just be aware of that; there are mentions of other idols, but if you can guess them you get a cookie because they are Vague; suuuuper bisexual Ares, Ares Can Step On Me, like I am SO gay for her it isn’t funny; explicit smut ft: cunnilingus, taeHUNG bc hes got MASSIVE SCHLONG, some body worship kind of and then just....regular worship? like? idk how to explain that? lots of praise and lots or orgasms

word count | 14k | cross posted to ao3

a/n | HOOOOOOO this has been sitting in my google docs for literal months waiting for an ending and i decided to try to get it out for tae's birthday bUT that didn't work because i have a Job and shit so YEET I GUESS HAPPY FUCKIN NEW YEAR??? LIKE??? YEEEEEEEEEEEEE this fic is very near to me because Ares is my sweet sad angry babie and i love her, and i love tae and i love suho and i love the muses and i just........lOVE this fic like i think this is currently my favorite of the mag series so!! i hope yall also enjoy it!!!! yall are welcome to send me messages about this even tho I'm terrible at replying to them in a timely manner!! thanks to everyone who helped me with this, and everyone who has expressed interest in it, and everyone who has ever read anything of mine, because you're genuinely the best people ever, and this is literally a gift to y'all because you deserve it.

Fuck, that was too hard .

The guy across from you goes flying, hitting the chain link wall of the cage harder than you intended. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, and even holding back, you've got a better buzz than even the best nectar can give. Your blood sings as the guy gets back up, and you almost wish you could remember his name, because he's put up a hell of a fight. For a mortal, anyway.

He charges at you again, and time slows as your vision tunnels. You can see the feint as he decides on it, how he hesitates in bringing his left up. You wait, watching him get closer and closer. You start to dart to your left, letting him think he's got you, before you side-step and dart to your right instead. His punch goes wide as you steady your balance and move. The top of your foot connects with his ribcage and the resulting crack of bone is lost amid the cheers and yells of the audience.

Your opponent steps back and you're proud of the way he doesn't show the pain. He doesn't wince, doesn't move to touch the spot you hit, just tightens his stance and clenches his jaw. It's only you that notices the hitch in his breath, the way he flinches with every inhale. Your eyes narrow at that, zeroing in on the rib. You'd meant to just crack it, had been holding back most of your strength to keep from hurting him too seriously, but as he steps forward, you can see the way he grits his teeth against the pain.

The fight leaves you immediately, like a bucket of cold water straight to the chest, and you drop your hands.

"Yield." He just stares at you, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Yield to me, and then go to the doctor."

"I'm not gonna yield," He says. He spits a mouthful of blood out onto the floor. "I'm not weak."

"Seriously, dude," You insist. "You're not gonna win this, and I don't want to hurt you more."

His scoff has you seeing red. "As if a princess like you could hurt me."

Your fist connects with his face before either of you registers that you've moved. There's a voice in the back of your head reminding you that he's just mortal, he can't take the same kind of beating you can, but it's lost in the haze of fury. The next thing you know, the ref is dragging you away and slamming you into the cage wall. Your opponent is being dragged out - you still don't know his name - and he looks beaten senseless. Victory rolls through you accompanied by a sick satisfaction at the way his blood looks decorating the canvas beneath your feet.

It lasts for less than an hour. It's always like this; the thrill of the fight, the burn of success, it's gone faster than you can blink. It's what drives you to keep fighting, to keep going to match after match, just to seek out the under-the-table stuff afterwards. It's never enough, not anymore. Back in the old days, they'd let you fight anything. Bears, bulls, lions, giants, anything they could get a noose around long enough to point it at a colosseum. That was a long time ago, though, before all the rights movements happened. You won't lie: you miss fighting beasts like that. The sheer power and strength they have, the survival instinct that makes them such fierce competitors, it's so much better than the rules and regulations of the mortal world now. Fights have gotten dull, rehearsed, more like a performance or a show than an actual fight. People make more money losing than they do winning and it's made the world boring.

You flex your hand as you open the door to your favorite bar. Something caught it at some point in the last fight, a cheekbone or a tooth, and it stings a little. Doesn't hurt, not exactly, not for a goddess, but it did enough that you feel it at all, which means it couldn't have been anything but torture for the guy on the other end. The bartender waves at you and gets your usual ready as you sit, and you idly wonder if Busted Rib Guy will be okay. It looked painful, for a human, and you'd tried to hold back, but…

Well, you weren't really responsible for what happened to condescending little fucks, were you?

You sip the bourbon, enjoying the burn as it goes down. The lights are dim, tonight. You're glad. You don't want to deal with people looking at you, men coming over to talk to you, trying to advise you on how to properly bandage your knuckles or how to avoid the bruise on your cheek next time. If you had wanted to avoid it, you would have. You'd intended it to hurt worse, honestly, but that first guy'd had a weaker right hook than you expected.

You look around, wondering if anyone here would provide a decent distraction for the night. There's a pretty brunette in the corner with carefully crafted braids, and as your eyes travel, you imagine what's hiding beneath the silk and leather. You're pulled from the thought by the sound of music, and you curse under your breath. You forgot that it's an open mic night and you'd meant to go to the bar across town instead. Irritation colors your vision; every open mic night is awful, full of lofty poets talking about their trauma and wannabe Taylor Swifts thinking they're on the same level as Sappho. Ah, now that was a girl with a set of pipes. You miss her, wonder what she would say to the butchering of whatever song you're about to hear.

The voice that comes isn't what you expect. It's smooth and deep. The world turns to velvet around you as the voice wanders from one speaker to another, creating a mesmerizing multi-dimensional effect despite the way the singer doesn't ever leave the stage. You turn, knuckles white around your bourbon glass; he's utterly magnetic, every eye in the room trained on him as he purrs into the vintage mic. Long fingers are wrapped around the scuffed metal, decorated with jewels that glitter in the dim light of the bar. You can smell the lingering cigarette smoke from the guy beside you and the Jäger from the girl two stools down and for once, you don't even care. He's captivating, voice travelling between speakers in the bar and coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Your eyes don't leave him, and you wonder if you can memorize the way the blond waves fall against his forehead if you stare long enough.

The red seeps away from you, slinking back into the corners of your mind, settling once more into a low thrum under your skin. It fades into the background of this man's voice, the charisma that rolls off him in waves as he pulls the mic in close just to push it to the side with a teasing smirk. It settles something in your chest that hasn't been calm since the fight in Athens so long ago.

The music fades out sooner than you'd like, and he gives a slight bow before wandering into the crowd. You do your best to follow him, but the gold of his hair disappears almost immediately, lost in the throng of people around the stage waiting to speak to him. You turn back around, downing the next bit of bourbon that Suho pours you.

"I know," He says with a grin. You cock a brow at him, not having said anything he could agree with. "He's good. That's what you were thinking, right? He's why we're so packed on open mics. Got the audio and lighting guy whipped, so he's got all these special effects, too. Drives people crazy.”

"He's alright," You mutter. You toss a few bills down on the bartop and step back. Suho gives you a courteous nod as you leave. The bouncer gives you a dirty look when he spots the lit cigarette between your lips, but he knows better than to try to tell you otherwise. You've taught him better.

You lean back against the brick wall of the alley and take a drag. The warm smoke fills your lungs and you close your eyes. It's a different kind of burn than you're used to, a distraction from the crawling sensation that drives you to fight. It's calmer, more controlled. Feels like the smoke from Hestia's fires. Feels like home.

"Never expected to see you here," A voice calls out. It's deep and startling in the darkness, but you don't jump. You just open your eyes, exhale, and look to where it came from.

The singer stands before you in the same undone white button up and black tee he performed in. He doesn't have a cig, doesn't seem to have much of any reason to be outside. He moves almost lazily, as if he doesn't even need to, just wants to, and when his gaze flicks up to meet yours, your vision fills just for a breath with every opponent you've ever faced lying at your feet.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" The words slip from your tongue before you can stop them. It's not his fault, the voice in your head says, he didn't mean it that way, but still, your blood is thrumming now that he's here and you want to know what he's talking about. Want to know why he thinks you wouldn't be here when there's attractive people and good bourbon and you've never seen this man before in your life. Want to know why he already seems to think you aren't civilized enough to be at a bar, why he spoke but all you heard was Zeus' voice in your memories.

"Exactly what I said. Should I be clearer?"

"Yeah, probably," you spit. Yet another person that assumes you're stupid, that you don't understand basic languages, as if you haven't been speaking them since the ancient times. As if you couldn't speak circles around him if you wanted. "Unless you want your teeth on the fucking ground."

"Good to know the stories are true." He tsks and you're filled with a strange sense of disappointment and fury, both at him and yourself. Your vision turns red at the edges and the cigarette between your fingers is crushed in your grip. He pays no mind to it, just saunters past with a lazy, swaying gait that draws your eyes to his hips and then down the long leather-clad legs. "See you around, Ares."

"That's not my fucking name," You yell after him. He doesn't respond when you shout your actual name, the one you chose, on your own, as a middle finger to the Olympians. "Get it right next time, dickwad."

He turns the corner of the alley and the streetlight catches his face just enough for you to see the smirk he wears. For once in your life, you're torn; you want to smash his face in, yes, because how dare this random guy speak to you like that when you could kill him with one finger to the right pressure point. You also find your skin's hotter than usual, stretched too thin over your bones, and you want him to run his hands over you until it feels right again.

Until it feels like it did when he was singing.

How did he know my title?

The thought comes unbidden, days later, with the desperate hit of a palm against your shoulder. You've got the woman in a headlock, patiently waiting for her to pass out completely so the fight can be called, and your mind is wandering.

How did the singer know who you are? You hadn't thought anything of it at the time, distracted by fury and frustration, but with time comes a special kind of clarity. You've never seen him before, not that you know anyway, yet he didn't hesitate to call you Ares. The only ones who know of your kind are your kind, but you haven't seen any of your siblings among mortals in a long time. You thought you knew the other gods and goddesses, but maybe not. It has been a while since you stepped foot in the golden city.

The woman in your grip goes slack and you release her. You're still lost in thought as the ref calls the match and leads you out of the makeshift ring. The cheers of the audience are background noise at this point, akin to static or the buzz of electricity, and you pay them no mind as you head to collect your winnings. You didn't even get any kind of buzz from success this time, too immersed in the way the singer walked and talked and looked. The image of his smirk is burned into your retinas.

"Yeah, you didn't hear? He just got out of the hospital. They had to keep him overnight because they thought he might puncture a lung. I heard that if it had been a little worse, they would've had to wire his jaw shut." You stop, fingers brushing over the stack of bills you don't even remember being handed. You look up, making eye contact with the guy whispering nearby. Your suspicions are confirmed when his friend smacks his arm and juts his chin in your direction before they both disappear into the crowd.

You shove your way outside, frustration creeping through you and coloring your vision. You manage to keep it contained long enough for you to make it to the alley behind the warehouse, but it explodes from you in a rush of thrown dumpsters and sheet metal.

Fuck , you never meant to hurt him like that. You told him, you fucking told him to yield, it isn't your fault he didn't listen. It's not your fault that he went and insulted you, acted like he was better than you just by virtue of being a dude, as if you weren't worshipped in the old days for the power you had and the blessings you could give. You'd held back, through all of it, you'd told him to yield, and he insulted you. It wasn't your fault.

You slide to the ground, running a shaking hand through your hair. It isn't your fault , you repeat. You close your eyes and take deep breaths, the way Hestia taught you, willing the fury to dissipate. It's like a fire in your veins, burning and bubbling your skin until you can't resist anymore. You take another breath. It isn't your fault. You tried. You offered an out. It isn't your fault. Fuck, what was his name?

With a growl that quickly morphs into a scream, you kick the dumpster once more before stalking off into the darkness. You need a fucking drink and you're gonna find a distraction in someone else if it's the last thing you do.

The club is packed when you get there; you're not usually a fan of clubs like this, too full of people who are too friendly, but they're perfect for nights like tonight. You don't even need to wait in line, just slip the bouncer a 50 as you pass, and the bartenders are quick to spot you. You're pretty notorious in the city for over-paying, which means you're knocking back bourbon before you have a chance to ask for it. There are people everywhere, pressed up against both sides of you while the bass thrums in your throat, and it takes you longer than you're proud of to realize why.

There's a band playing, apparently. They're not bad; the vocalist isn't anything like the singer from Suho's, but it doesn't make you want to tear your ears off, so you consider it a success.

You're dancing before you remember deciding to. Everything's a blur when you get the itch in your bones, the need to make someone bleed. To feel something that isn't rage or condescension. People are even closer here on the dance floor, suffocating in their proximity, but there's a woman grinding her ass into you, and it sparks the dying fire in your gut. The beat of the music drowns your own heart, and it's all flashing lights and heat and a body pressed against yours that is all too willing.

She follows when you go back to the bar for another drink, and giggles when you lick salt from her wrist before downing tequila. Her hands are wrapped in the leather of your jacket as she kisses you, your own resting lightly on her hips. She laughs against your lips and says something you don't hear before ordering another drink. Something makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You take the brief reprieve to look around the club, searching for whatever it is that has you on alert. You find him on the upper level of the club, leaned over the balcony with a drink in hand. You can't make out his expression, exactly; it's too far away and too guarded. But you'd know him anywhere now. The singer knocks back whatever's in his glass, eyes never leaving yours. You don't know why he's here, if he comes here often or if the Fates are having a laugh at your expense, but you do know you want to make the most of it.

The girl is back, pressing a heated kiss to your lips and drawing your attention from him. You return it, nipping at her lips and getting a small gasp in return. You smirk and bite your way down her neck. She's breathy in your ear, hitched moans lost in the beat of the music, but you barely hear her as you suck bruises into the skin of her neck. He's still watching you. His drink is gone and he's gripping the bannister of the balcony, rings glinting in the light. You wonder if the cool metal could soothe the burn in your bones. You want to know if he can bring that calmness from before back, if he can soothe the frenzy in your mind with his hands the way he can with his voice. Just imagining it has you soaking through to your jeans.

The girl makes a particularly loud noise in your ear and you're brought out of your thoughts. As if he can sense it, the singer straightens. He gives you one last look before disappearing back into the crowd, and you wonder if you're imagining the disdain in it. You draw back from the girl's neck, about to tell her to find her friends when she slides her hands in your hair and tugs.

The burn in your blood is back, now, and you hope this girl is prepared for what awaits her.

"You're here early," Suho says when he spots you in the nearly empty bar the next night. He's not wrong, either; you skipped the fights tonight completely. There was no buzz last time, no relief, and you have no reason to believe there would be tonight. Not with the way the singer captivates your thoughts.

Besides, you have enough money leftover from the previous few to last a couple days.

"What, did you decide not to kick someone's ass before getting wasted?" Suho doesn't wither at the look you give him, just pours you a couple fingers of bourbon and slides the glass over. "Or did they just stop letting you in completely?"

"I might change my mind if you don't shut up," You tell him. There's no real heat behind it. You've known Suho for years now, been coming to his bar for so long it almost feels like home. You're almost friends at this point.

It helps that he knows when to bite his tongue so he doesn't get his teeth knocked out.

"Seriously though, I don't think I've ever seen you here this early. Especially not on mic nights." You're very careful in your lack of a reaction to his words. You'd seen the workers setting up for it when you came in, and even if you hadn't, you know when mic night is. You've spent enough time avoiding it.

"Does he sing every time?" You ask in lieu of an explanation. You don't look away from the amber liquid in your glass, letting the silence hang as the bartender does his best to follow your thought process.

"Taehyung? Most weeks, yeah. It's been a nice change from the usual drunken karaoke. He goes around to some of the other places in town, too. Apparently he just likes to sing."

"Taehyung," You repeat. The name rolls from your tongue a bit awkwardly. It's more than you expected, somehow, but you can't place exactly how . Just...more. "Is he always that good?"

"Oh, yeah. We have regulars now for mic night because of him. He's got a whole fan club and everything."

"Hm." You drain the rest of your bourbon and Suho refills it. He leaves you in peace then, serving some others that appear at the bar.

The place fills faster than you can blink. That's what it feels like, anyway. It's like one moment there's you and a handful of other people scattered around, and now you're being jostled between some dude a million feet tall that definitely doesn't look old enough to be here and a girl with her tits up to her throat and surrounded by a cloud of perfume so thick that it starts a migraine behind your eyes almost instantly. She flirts with Suho a little, likely trying to score free drinks, and you roll your eyes. She pouts at him when he gives her the total, batting eyelashes that go on for miles, and for once, you wish Suho would just give in and comp the drinks.

"I'll pay for them," You say. She was definitely saying something, maybe you should have been paying attention to it, but fuck , this migraine is only getting worse the longer she stands there. "I'll pay for your drinks."

"Oh, thanks," She says. Her smile is hesitant, and quickly turns apologetic as she takes in the boots and the ripped jeans and the leather jacket. "Um, I'm not...I don't, uh…"

"Do I look like I want to fuck you, sweetie?" She looks a little affronted and a laugh escapes you. You lean closer, letting your breath ghost over her cheek as you speak in her ear to be heard better. "If I wanted to fuck you senseless, you'd know it. And I can guarantee you it would be a hell of a lot better than the watered down rat piss this guy's giving you."

When you lean back, her face is flushed and she's stammering. You smirk and hand her the drinks she'd ordered.

"Too bad you’re not, you don’t, huh?" You tell her. The patronizing tone isn't lost on her, nor is your mockery of her earlier words, and she shuts her mouth with an audible click before strutting off. Suho glares at you as he pours more bourbon.

"Can you please try not to run off my patrons?" He mutters. "Some of us actually need money to live."

"Some of us would like decently timed refills and to not choke on perfume," You quip. "And better bourbon, for that matter." He hisses something about what he's giving you being top quality but you tune him out, throwing one leg over the stool Perfume Girl vacated. You'd like to keep just a little bit of personal space.

Across the bar, you catch a brief glimpse of the girl from the night before and you wince. Her neck is thoroughly bruised, and you catch a peek of bruises and scratches on her back as she shrugs her jacket on. You didn’t mean to be so rough with her, even if she had been into it; you’re usually pretty good about remembering that the mortals are just that - mortal - and as such have to be handled delicately. They’re so fragile, it feels like they could break with a strong wind. Guilt settles in your gut and turns the bourbon in your glass to cough syrup. You’ve half a mind to just leave before she sees you, are about to turn and do exactly that, but the speakers screech to life and the deafening feedback from the mic keeps you glued to your seat.

The crowd quiets even as the excitement ramps up, all talk silencing but for the occasional hushed whispers here and there. The first few notes of the song echo through the speakers, and a spotlight appears on him.

He looks different this time, his hair dyed a vibrant blue that matches the glinting jewels in his ears and on his hands. He's an absolute vision and you wonder how Aphrodite has allowed him to live so long when he's so beautiful. His voice hangs in the air and calms you, the same settling in your chest as last time, the same freedom from the burn in your veins. It's addictive.

The song doesn't last nearly as long as you want it to but the stillness inside you lingers long after he's done caressing the microphone. You place a few bills down for Suho and light up a cigarette as you head outside, ignoring the dirty looks from other patrons as you do. You're on a mission, the thrum of bloodlust returning with every second that passes, and you can't even be sure if he's still around or if he's wandered off already.

You stand in the alley for what feels like hours, turning at every sound and smoking cig after cig just so you have something to do. You've almost decided to say fuck it when footsteps sound from the back of the bar, coming closer to you.

His blue hair is visible even from the other end of the small alley, a giveaway similar to the light at the end of your cigarette and the smoke you blow into the air. There's no way he hasn't seen you, you think, you're making no effort to hide or be sneaky, and yet he's continuing forward as if he doesn't see you at all, eyes focused on a phone in his hand. You wait until he's just a few steps away before speaking.

"How do you know my title?" You ask him. He stops as if he'd always meant to and doesn't even bother to glance up at you or respond. The edges of your vision turn scarlet at the blatant disregard and you're speaking before you can even process the words. "I asked you a fucking question, pretty boy, you're gonna answer me. Unless you want that precious mouth bloodied up."

"And you wonder how I know who you are," He drawls, still not bothering to spare a glance at you. A scowl grows over your face at his sarcastic tone. "If you're going to hit me just get it over with. Otherwise, I have places to be."

He stands, waiting and expectant, but you don't move. He's humming, quiet and to himself like he doesn't even realize he's doing it, and the red seeps away from your mind until you're left clear-headed once more. You sigh, long and heavy, and crush your cigarette into your denim-covered thigh to put it out. It tickles.

"I'm not going to hit you," You tell him eventually. "I just wanna know how you know me. And how you do it."

He cocks a brow at that, finally looking up from the phone in his hand to level dark eyes on yours. "Do what? Sing?"

"No." You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. The words are harder to find than you thought they'd be, lost in the depths of his gaze, in the clarity you're so unaccustomed to, in the way you feel like you can breathe for the first time in days. "I don't care how you sing, that's not important, it's the...fuck, you know what, never mind, it doesn't fucking matter." You push off the wall and step past him to head towards where the streetlight gleams off the bar windows.

"Tell me." The command has you stopping in your tracks, and you're again flooded with just wanting to know how. How he clears the haze, how he stops you, how he makes you feel real. You turn, hands stuffed into the back pockets of your jeans. "How I do what?"

It takes you several long breaths before you can answer, and you aren't even sure he can hear you over the sounds of people leaving the bar, and you find yourself disappearing into the crowd without waiting for a response. Your own words are reverberating in your skull, getting louder with each step you take, and you wish you could just turn it off .

"How you make me feel like a person again."

You avoid the bar for a few weeks, going hours away from your usual area to an unfamiliar hole in the wall just to make sure you don’t see him. You’re more deadly than usual in your fights, victories coming quicker, injuries piling up along with the guilt, but you can’t bring yourself to return. It’s unnerving, the way everything goes quiet around him, the way you can think, but the worst is the way you can feel. Everything’s calm and steady and blue, and it only makes it easier for the regret and the guilt and the anxiety to curl around your throat and squeeze until you can’t breathe, to clog in your throat while the laughter of your siblings echoes in your ears, and you...can’t. You can’t do that, you can’t let it win, you can’t let them win, they can’t know that you’re everything they think you are and worse.

You can’t let yourself drown in that, and yet you find yourself back at Suho’s, lost among the crowd while Taehyung’s voice surrounds you. The ache in your bones fades away, chased by the thrum of the fight that still lingers despite the hours that have passed since you felt your opponent’s femur break under your palm and their screams echoed in your ears. Everything is calm again, and the guilt nearly drowns you.

He hasn’t even finished singing before you’re outside, chest heaving as you gasp against the weight on your chest. You broke someone’s femur , and did you even really need to? The fight itself is a blur even now, snapshots playing through your mind like a montage. The way they’d darted at you first, how their foot felt connecting with the backs of your knees, the determination in their eyes when you went down, the jolt of shock as your hands wrapped around their leg, the dull throb of a barrage of hits against your waist as you pulled them down as well and bloodied their face, the blood-curdling scream as you snapped the bone like a pretzel stick.

Your breath comes faster in your lungs, forced out by the growing guilt that lodges there in its place. Images swirl in your mind, chased by a never-ending stream of thought and regret that you should be used to by now. Fuck, you didn’t need to, and you still did it; you lost control, you fucking hurt them, and for what? A couple hundred? Was it even worth it? Who knew when they’d be back into shape to fight, what if they needed the money? They weren’t even half-bad. They got you down, at least, shouldn’t you have gone easy on them? You don’t even remember their face, can’t remember what the announcer said their name was, words drowned out by the buzz under your skin.

Metal crumples under your grip and you spare a half-second to mourn Suho’s dumpster before you slam your knuckles against it. It tingles, not even real pain, and you don’t hesitate to repeat it. By the time the metal is disfigured completely, a distorted mess of paint and steel and garbage, you still aren’t in pain, but there’s a sheen of gold across your knuckles and you feel less like you’re drowning and more like you’re suffocating. The usual. You can handle that. You think.

You don’t even realize that you’ve slid down to the ground beside the dumpster until the back door of the bar opens and footsteps echo through the alley. You wish you knew how long you’ve been here, how long you’ve sat among empty bottles and stale beer and broken glass, but you can’t be sure. The brief reprieve brought by Taehyung’s voice is long gone, chased away by the guilt and rage that still sits heavy in your chest. You hope you’re not noticeable here, that whoever’s left will just pass by and leave you to piece yourself back together on your own.

Voices tell you that it isn’t likely, the deep baritone of one too familiar to ignore. The other is new, but you’re familiar with the tone, the inflection, the intent behind it. You've heard it before, in crowded clubs as a guy pushes too close to some girl who can barely stand, in a coffeeshop when a random customer can't take a fucking hint, at the local campus when some professor insists that there could be maybe one thing her student could do to pass. It makes everything in you curdle, the bourbon from earlier threatening to work its way back up; it screams predator , and you absolutely refuse to let anyone fucking talk to someone like that, like they have some right to whatever it is they want.

You refuse to let someone talk to him that way.

"Seriously, Kratos, didn't I tell you to leave me alone? Did Aphrodite not teach you your lesson last time you harassed someone?" Taehyung's voice brings a calm that's an unsettling match to the anger washing over you. You're used to the red at the corners of your vision, the tint to everything you see, but you aren ' t used to the way it all turns purple and focused and clear .

There's no haze this time, there's no abrupt shift of you moving before you know you've done it. You can feel the glass crunching under your boots with every step you take, can feel the way the air has a chill that creeps down into your lungs with every breath, can almost taste the apprehension that's rolling off of Taehyung despite his relaxed stance. The only thing that gives him away is the tense set of his jaw and the mix of relief and fear when his eyes land on you.

"I'm pretty sure he said no, Kratos." The god turns at your voice and you watch the realization wash over him as he realizes what - who - you are.

"Been a while since anyone's seen you, Ares." He scoffs a little, not moving from where he has Taehyung caged against the wall of the bar, one hand pressed firmly into the brick. He's entirely too close, and you have no doubt that the stench of him permeates the very oxygen around them.

"Been busy. Doesn't change the fact that the man said no. Take the loss, walk away." Kratos' eyes narrow at your words and he steps away, but only to move closer to you.

"Why do you care so much? You've never been one to care about any of us before." Kratos inches closer and the hyper-focus that Taehyung's voice causes starts to melt away with every twitch of your fingers. You've never liked Kratos, all brute strength with no respect for the challenge, no appreciation of the fight, too focused on sheer power and exhilaration. He is the worst of the worst of the worst of your kind, of all the war-focused gods. Every bit of yourself you hate is every piece that Kratos loves about himself.

"I care that you don't seem to be able to understand when someone doesn't want to be around you, you absolute piece of filth. Taehyung had a point though, I really thought the whole thing with Aphrodite would've taught you how to back off. Or should I pull the video out, I think I still have it saved for when I need a good laugh." Malice and fury twitch across the other god's face and you absolute revel in it. You can feel his anger prickling across you, like needles in your very pores, and you ache for it. It's been so long since you last had a good fight, a real challenge where you didn't need to hold back at all.

Too long since you fought a god like yourself.

"You're testing my patience, cousin," Kratos spits. It's a little generous to call the two of you cousins - you're several times removed, at best, and potentially closer than that with your family's warped history - but you let him have it. It might make him feel better. "I'm having a conversation, that's all. And if said conversation means that we end up back at my place, then, well, can anyone really blame me for what might happen to this pretty little m-"

Your fist connects with his jaw immediately and the red floods you for the few seconds it takes to register Taehyung calling your name. The calm struggles for a second, warring with the rage, but it wins out eventually. The singer's talking, but you can't make out any actual words. You're too focused on Kratos, the way he's righting and readying himself for a brawl. There's a fire in his eyes that matches the one in yours and everything in you feels alive for the first time in too long.

This fight is different than your usual ones. There's no blur, no warped sense of time that usually comes with the adrenaline. You're focused and controlled in a way you haven't had to be for centuries, careful and precise and deliberate with every swing and every kick. The red seeps back in slowly and every time you think you're about to lose it, you hear Taehyung, still pressed against the wall of the bar.

Kratos lunges at you for what has to be the tenth time, clearly trying his best to knock you to the ground - he succeeded, once; you let yourself get distracted, too caught up in thoughts, but it didn't last long - and you sidestep him just in time for him to ram into the ruined dumpster instead. He looks pissed when he turns back around and something in you sings at the sight. He makes for you again and you dodge again, only to be dragged back towards him by the grip he has on your jacket. Fuck, should've taken that off , whatever, he's too close.

Pain explodes in your side and you're fairly sure he's busted part of your rib, but you just slide your arms out of the sleeves and twist to plant your knee straight into his gut and then slam your heel down onto his much-less-safe toes, and then back up to knee him in the groin. It's nowhere near enough to take him out, but his nose is oozing golden ichor and he groans with every shift of his weight, and you've got him pinned against the wall with your forearm pressing hard into his windpipe.

"Now, you're gonna listen to me you steaming pile of dog shit," You hiss. "When someone tells you no, it's not a fucking negotiation. It means you fucking leave and find someone with loose enough morals or enough internalized self-hatred that they're willing to subject themselves to your absolutely pitiful fucking excuse of an existence for the thirty-two seconds it'll take for you to get off."

Kratos doesn't respond, just sneers and spits blood at you. It's a miracle you don't actually try to rip his head from his body, because the thought crosses your mind for a second too long. Instead, you just press harder against his windpipe and enjoy the choked gasp that it draws.

"You don't stalk people either, the way you did with 'Dite. Don't you know it's better to let them come to you sometimes?" You tsk, ignoring the way he claws uselessly at your arm. Gods may not need to breathe, that's a fact, but they feel pain, and there is no way this isn't absolutely excruciating for him when even you can feel the small bones in his neck cracking and breaking. "And if I hear even a whisper of you pulling shit like this again, then I'm gonna find you, you pigshit. And when I do, I won't hold back even the slightest, and do you know what comes after that?"

His eyes are full of fear now, and only grow wide with terror as you lean in close enough that he can feel your lips against his ear as you whisper.

"You are going to wish that you could die."

When you do release him, he disappears instantly, with a cloud of acrid grey-green smoke curling around your ichor-spattered boots. He's only been gone a second when you slump, the adrenaline fading as quick as Kratos had left. Your side is throbbing now, your knuckles are bruised and broken and gold, there's a pain in your leg that you aren't sure what's causing, your head is screaming even through the high of the fight, your face stings in the crisp-cool air. Every breath makes the pain worse so you stop breathing. The brick wall of the bar is rough against your palms, but it's the only thing around that can keep you upright, so you'll take it.

"Well," a voice drawls from your left. You'd jump if you had anything left in you, but every ounce of energy is gone, spent teaching Kratos what Aretha Franklin meant when she sang about respect - and really, there was another fantastic singer, you really should visit her sometime soon - so instead your head lolls to the side. You aren't sure what it is that jolts through you when your eyes land on Taehyung, fingers curled carefully around the collar of-

Your jacket. That's your leather jacket. You barely remembers shrugging out of it, but you're glad it's not on the ground, trampled and covered in the gold spatters that decorate the rest of your body.

"Well?" You echo, wincing at the pain it causes. You've definitely got a busted lip, that's for sure from the way it feels different and swollen, and you're pretty sure there's a head wound, too, because you don't remember there being a golden halo around Taehyung before the fight.

"Well," He repeats, slinging the jacket - your jacket - over a shoulder. "You should get that looked at." He starts walking, making his way to the entrance of the alleyway. He gets halfway there before he stops and turns and cocks a brow. "Are you coming, or do I get to keep this?" Your jacket waves a little, as if he's wiggling it, and it makes you feel like a stray dog being lured off with treats.

You're never going to tell anyone that it works.

Taehyung's place is as nondescript as the car he parks outside. It's a plain apartment building on the outside - looks like maybe it was a hotel back in the 1930s, based on the outdated carpeting in the lobby and the grate on the elevator he steps into. Even the hallway is plain and unassuming as he leads you to the end and uses an old, tarnished brass key on an older, more tarnished brass knob. You aren't sure what you expected, you can't even begin to guess what Taehyung is like outside of the dirty alley or the stage where he sings, can't fathom what kind of decor he could possibly have.

What you step into isn't anything you could have guessed. It looks like he has the entire rest of the floor to himself based on what you can see, but there's also a spiral staircase tucked into a corner, bookshelves built in under each step that are filled to the brim, and a fireman's pole in another corner, so there's at least one more level above this, but something tells you both the staircase and the pole continue past that. There's artwork everywhere, pieces you recognize and pieces you don't, several van Goghs and a couple from Matisse and you think in the corner you spot an actual fucking da Vinci sketch that's supposed to be somewhere in Europe. There's a gramophone beside a top-of-the-line sound system, an entire wall that's just a record collection, books upon books, framed bits of poetry - including an actual hand-written rupi kaur, a signed Maya Angelou print, and a signed cover of ain't i a woman by bell hooks that you would die to know how Taehyung got his hands on. It's a museum's wet dream and yet it retains a lived in atmosphere. There are mugs left on tables, blankets strewn about as if someone just got up from a nap, an easel propped up by a far window with what looks like an impressionist painting of the cityscape, books tossed down half-read with receipts and coupons and candy wrappers and everything but a bookmark tucked between the pages.

It feels like a home and it makes your heart flutter in your chest at the same time that something in your stomach shrivels up into itself.

Taehyung walks like he’s meant to be followed, so follow you do. You spy another man - older, you think, but it’s hard to tell, really - sprawled across a couch, blanket splayed across his lap as he watches some kind of dance show on a flatscreen hung above a warm and roaring fireplace, a couple of girls in what looks to be the kitchen, one sitting on the counter while the other stands between her legs and pretends not to notice the former stealing strawberries from her bowl as she taps at her tablet, and there are footsteps creaking above you, hidden behind walls even as Taehyung leads you up the staircase. They all look up when you pass, but only the man gives you a second glance; his eyes are a weight on your back that doesn’t leave until you’re upstairs and following Taehyung into a large, rather nice bathroom.

It’s vintage as well, but it’s spacious and well-kept, like the rest of the place. Taehyung pats the marble counter by the sink and you bite your tongue against the urge to tell him you aren’t a dog. You don’t move though, instead watching him as he lays your jacket across a brass bar on the wall and then digs around in a cabinet for a minute or two. When he straightens up, he’s got a somewhat dusty off-white box in his hands, and he frowns.

“Up,” He says. “I need to look at your ankle.”

You don’t move, but you can tell he doesn’t miss the twitch of your nose at the thought of being commanded like an animal. Like someone who can’t understand. Like-

He sighs.

“Please, will you sit on the counter, so I can look at your ankle?” You huff, but you do as he says.

He doesn’t speak as he works, completely silent except for the odd command - “Roll it for me...alright, now flex that...deep breath...stop fidgeting or I’ll only make it worse…” - and the occasional hum under his breath. It seems to be second nature, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and it endears you more than you’d like. His touch is gentle but firm as he lightly squeezes your ankle and wraps it, lifts your pant leg to rub some kind of cream into a somewhat worrisome golden bruise forming on your calf, darts under your shirt to quickly and painlessly set your ribs before wrapping those as well. He doesn’t say anything at all until he’s almost finished with the cuts on your hands, golden ichor long gone and wounds already on their way to healing thanks to some sort of mist he spritzes on them.

It only stings once, as he’s spraying something over some kind of cut on your thigh where Kratos ripped through the denim there without you noticing. You can’t stop the hiss as the pain hits, though you regret it when he glances up at you.

“Sorry,” He mumbles under his breath as he dabs lightly at it with his long fingers.

“It’s fine,” You tell him. “I’m used to it.” Your voice is rough, always, but softer than usual. You don’t know why. You can’t decide if you like it.

The entire time he works, you wait. For him to tell you it wasn’t necessary, that he can fight his own battles, that he’s not surprised a brute like yourself got into a fight, that you’re no more than what the rumours say you are. You’ve got a million different curses and insults ready to spit back at him when he finally speaks.

“Thank you,” is what comes. It shocks the words out of your mouth, and you actually look up from where you’ve been watching him methodically wipe gold away from a scrape on your forearm. His gaze is concentrated on the injury and his lips are pursed and you wish you could figure him out.

He must take your silence for the confusion it is, because he continues.

“I mean it,” He says. “I’m usually not someone that lets other people fight for me, but we both know that I couldn’t have taken Kratos. He’s too strong, and he was counting on that. Until you showed up.” You don’t respond. “Is there a reason you left before my set was done? Or why you were sitting in an alley beside what is possibly the most gnarled dumpster I’ve ever seen?”

You don’t answer him, instead focusing on the way his hands feel as they tilt your chin so he can look at the cuts and bruises and scrapes that decorate your face. You focus your gaze just past his shoulder, content to memorize the pattern of his gaudy vintage bathroom wallpaper, and he doesn't press for more. The distracted humming picks up again every time he stops talking, and eases the storm of guilt shame rage pain hurt grief loneliness in your chest.

"I fight," you eventually say. Your voice is too loud in the quiet of the bathroom, shatters the silence like a sledgehammer, and you hate the way it trembles. Still, Taehyung doesn't look away from where he's carefully wiping gold from your skin, just cocks a brow, and it's as if a dam breaks in your throat. "Like, real fights. Actual competition, with rules and shit, and...sometimes the bad ones, because they tend to fight differently, it's a different kind of fight, y'know, and it's never really fair, because I'm...I'm me, but I hold back, just for fun, y'know, and it's, uh. It's alright usually, I go in, do my thing, I win, I go drink, and it all gets, I dunno, easier, maybe, for a while, like I can think right, but, um.”

You hesitate for a split second and force yourself to focus on the way the alcohol-soaked cotton tickles the cut on your head.

“Sometimes it's not...sometimes I can't control it as well, the anger, and I kind of just lose it on people, and a while ago this guy, he almost needed his jaw wired shut, but he was kind of a prick anyway, I guess, so whatever, but, uh, today, I...there was this girl and she was doing really well, actually, y'know, managed to get me down to the mat, which is rare and pretty impressive, and I'm pretty proud of her for it now, but then, I just. I just kinda lost it, like, I just kept swinging, I couldn't stop, and then I just...I broke her leg, for no real reason, just because I wanted her to hurt, and I don't...I'm not sure why I even did it, because I'd already won, right, like what was the point of doing any more, it wasn't even helping at that point, y'know, it's not like the buzz kept up any longer because I broke this kid's leg, and I love the fights, they help clear my head for a second, but I never wanted to actually-"

You words stop short, like there are too many of them to say in too short a time, and it's then you realize Taehyung's hands are in his lap and he's looking at you fully. His expression isn't neutral anymore, it's not the carefully crafted mask of a performer, it's real and open and genuine and all you see there is pain . For you. Pain and understanding and compassion you never expected to find anywhere but the deepest corners of your soul. Looking at him looking at you like that makes you feel like you can breathe again.

"You never wanted to hurt anyone." His voice is rough, like maybe there's emotion clogging his throat as well, and you aren't sure what that does to you, but something in you jumps at the thought.

Tears mar your vision as you nod and you curse under your breath before wiping them away. He catches your quivering hand in his and just holds it for a second. His eyes don't leave yours and there are a thousand things you expect him to say but what he says is:

"I believe you."

And that...it's more than you can take, and you break, right there on his bathroom counter, sobbing into his chest while he just rubs your back and hums and you remember the face of every person you've ever hurt and the look in their eyes as you left some of them for dead.

You wake up the next morning curled up on the most comfortable chaise lounge in human history, sitting up and shoving the blanket off of you in a rush before you remember where you are, why you're there. A glance around tells you that you aren't alone; there's two guys bent over a table that you think might also be a tablet, conversing quietly and pointing every so often at whatever they're looking at, a girl balanced along the edge of the staircase holding a lyre - which, wow, you haven't seen a lyre in that good condition in a while - and strumming lightly along it before she frowns and shakes her head and restarts whatever melody she's playing, and the same guy sprawled over the couch with a blanket strewn haphazardly over him while he watches a different dance video on the flatscreen. He's the closest and you don't really want to talk to any of these people but you think you might have to because you aren't really sure how Taehyung got you here last night but you know it was quite a drive. You'd just mist over to the bar if you really wanted to, but your ribs hurt like a bitch still thanks to that fucker Kratos. Anything as intense as misting is out of the question for the time being.

The man on the chaise spares you a glance that feels longer than it should, full of a judgement you have no doubt you deserve and yet somehow fires your anger anyway.

He rolls his eyes before you even say anything and waves a hand towards the kitchen. You snap your mouth closed and shoot him an irritated look, but you storm in that direction anyway. Healing is exhausting, and you want nothing more than some meat to tear into and a cold beer.

When you get into the kitchen, however, Taehyung is standing there already, as if he’s been expecting you any minute. There’s a plate in front of him, full of food you barely recognize, and he slides it towards you.

“Eat,” He says. You grit your teeth, unmoving, and he sighs again. “Please sit, and eat. You need the strength to heal properly.”

You resist for a split second, but there’s a softness to him now. Something you can’t exactly put your finger on, but that you know is different , somehow, and it changes things. It makes you want to listen, to do as he asks, because he is asking . He’s not telling, he’s treating you like an animal.

It’s a request, not a demand, and that makes all the difference.

Taehyung is quiet while you eat. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t watch to make sure you’re doing it, but you have no doubt he’s keeping an eye on you. It’s quiet, but not unbearably so; the air is broken by the sounds of the lyre and the television, as well as the soft chattering of the men at the table. It makes it comfortable, makes it soft in a way you’re unaccustomed to being, like the way people talk about lazy Sunday mornings or that voice they get when they see a cute animal.

It feels like home should be, instead of what yours is.

“So why’s Pretty Boy giving me the death glare?” You eventually ask past a mouthful of food. Taehyung barely looks up, just glancing past you to the guy laying on the couch. You can feel his eyes boring into your spine, but it’s nothing new.

“Taemin’s just protective,” Taehyung says softly. “Especially considering the stories.”

“The ones about me, you mean.”

A myriad of emotions passes through his eyes when he nods, and you wish you could more easily decipher them. Maybe in time, you will.

Maybe.

“Those, yes,” He says softly. “But he’ll learn.” He doesn’t say it, but nonetheless, you hear the words as clear as day. Just like I did.

Someone hums behind you and you glance over to see a woman - the strawberry thief - making her way into the kitchen. She gives Taehyung a look you don’t care enough to figure out, and they have an entire conversation in the span of five minutes. Something about it irks you, and it only gets worse when they start moving around each other, Taehyung handing her things without her asking.

It’s ridiculous, and you know it, but the air gets heavy in your lungs and your head starts to swim and suddenly you’re suffocating. It’s too much, there’s too much here, and you can’t take it anymore.

The force with which you shove away the counter would have slammed it into the wall were it not already attached. There are slight cracks in the granite tops, though, and there’s just enough clarity as Taehyung calls your name for you to feel guilty about it. It’s not enough to stop you though; you have to get out, you need to get out, before you do something worse, and the cracks in the granite are proof of that.

You’re out the door in an instant, your form coalescing painfully back into solid matter as you reach the hallway. Your ribs ache, screaming with the effort of trying to mist away from this place, this home , and you lean against the wall in the hope that it will help steady you.

The door opens behind you, the creak of the old hinges deafening in the silence of the hall. There’s a commotion behind it, voices overlapping each other and reverberating in your skull until they’re a twisted mockery of your siblings.

You stumble down the hall, one hand clutching your ribs to keep them as still as possible despite your movement. It’s not lost on you that there are footsteps following you, but you can’t focus on them now. You’re not moving fast, and you need to be, you should be running , but you can’t. Your vision is already clouding slightly at the edges, the sudden spike of adrenaline waning now that you’re out of the apartment.

Someone says your name and you swing.

It’s instinct, the way your fist flies through the air; you can’t control it, not this, not when the red is all you can see even as it seeps away and turns lilac. It doesn’t matter anyway. You don’t make contact with anything but the wall, plaster crumbling around your fist and onto the carpeted floor.

“That was rude,” Taehyung says softly. He doesn’t sound mad, though he should, considering you almost decked him straight in the nose. “I’ll take you back.”

He drapes your jacket over your arm and walks away, toward emergency stairs tucked into the corner instead of the elevator, and you follow. He hums as he goes, and he lets you lead the way down the stairs, keeping pace with your quick steps until both of you step out a side door into an alleyway.

Out of habit, more than anything, you light a cigarette and put it between your lips. You don’t miss the disgusted scrunch of Taehyung’s nose, but you do ignore it. The smoke is familiar in lungs, comforting, and he doesn’t understand it, won’t ever understand it, but he doesn’t have to.

“Sorry, Tae,” You say after a few minutes of silence. Taehyung shrugs one shoulder and moves to lean beside you against the stone of the building.

“Are you okay now?” You nod, taking a deep breath, remembering how Hestia had taught you, so long ago, how her hand felt against your chest, the warmth and love it held. “Then you’re forgiven. And you can call me Calliope, if you want.”

You’re both quiet after that. He doesn’t make fun of you, he doesn’t judge you, he just silently drives you back to Suho’s bar, which is when you remember that he doesn’t know where you live. You’re fine with it; you don’t want to see him in your run down hovel. It’s not much, especially compared to his own apartment, but that makes sense, too.

What could ever live up to the home of a Muse? Not even a muse, really. The Muse. The Head of the Nine Muses, the one called on most often by those in need, the one that everyone knew, the one that Hephaestus just put statues of in the gardens of Olympus, according to the rumors that Apollo sent you.

The calm that he brings lasts until you get back to your apartment, nearly ten full minutes after you disappear into the alley beside Suho’s bar. It’s the longest the calm has ever lasted, and the view of the city tinted lavender is one you think you love.

If you can love.

Things get clearer, somehow. The weight on your shoulders lessens, makes you feel less like Atlas and more like you, how you were all those years ago in the now-ancient days when things made sense. When people fought for honor and glory and justice more than they fought for oil and death and greed.

It could be because open mic nights are frequent around the city, and you’re able to figure out his schedule pretty well. You don’t go every night that he sings, just when it gets to be too much, when the scarlet haze starts to bleed into your irises like a flag in front of a bull. It helps, for a while, lets you settle long enough to pull the pieces of you back into a shape that vaguely resembles yourself.

It could be because the fights happen every night, and Taehyung is no stranger to where to look to find them. He watches every one that he can, when he isn’t singing, and his presence anchors you. Focuses you, so that you can pull your punches just enough, so that there’s less hurting and more fighting. It doesn’t work every time, you still lose yourself in the rage and do more damage than you ever mean to, but it helps enough. And when it doesn’t, he’s there, to slide a hand across your shoulders in that exact same way that Hestia used to, that Apollo might if you let him close enough to know you’re alive, that Artemis would , were she anywhere but where she is.

It’s a strange feeling. You’re not used to companionship, you don’t know how to have friends. You still say the wrong things and do the wrong things and he still speaks to you like he expects to be listened to, but you both are learning. You apologize more often, and he corrects himself quicker. It’s a slow, fragile thing, this friendship, but it’s there.

Until the night when it’s not.

You aren’t sure how it happens. It’s been weeks since you last saw Taehyung; he mentioned some project he was working on, something or another that would have most of his attention along with that of several of the other Muses. You had brushed it off when he said it, some snide remark about how you don’t need him there to win.

You would take it back if you could.

Because you were right, of course, you don’t need him there to win; you can do that on your own. And your control has gotten better, stronger, over the last few months, but complacency is what always leads to disaster.

The guy deserved it, is what you tell yourself as you’re pulled out of the ring. He was a piece of shit anyway, you remind yourself as you call Apollo with shaking hands. He didn’t deserve your mercy, you tell the golden gold after you’ve begged him to help save the man’s life. Artemis would have done the same, you insist to him, long after he’s hung up the phone and left to follow the ambulance to the hospital.

You don’t go to Suho’s. You can’t bear it, not when he might be there, not when he would read it on your face in a heartbeat. You don’t want to watch the disappointment crumble into something more familiar, something worse, you can’t watch him look at you with the knowledge that your siblings are right, that they’ve always been right, that you’re nothing better than a crazed animal.

The club is packed full when you get there. The bartender starts to pour you a drink and you just take the bottle, leaving a too-thick wad of bills in return. The bourbon tickles as it goes down but it warms your stomach and distracts you from the haze in your mind, the repetitive beat of they were right they were right they were right they were-

“Whoops, sorry,” someone says, a second before they knock into your shoulder. You’ve been around long enough to know a fake fall, and you scowl as you glance towards them.

He’s cute. Taller than you, with skin that would hide the marks you so love to create, and hair that looks like it would be soft in your hands. His clothes fit well, and they look like they were chosen for comfort over style despite the way he walks like a model in them, which you always find attractive.

The smile that slips onto your face is familiar, as is the way you bring your hand up to rest on his hip in an effort to steady him.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” You tell him, not being subtle in the way you eye him. He looks soft; you love them soft. “You headed to get a drink?”

“I might be,” He says teasingly, a coy grin forming on his lips.

“I’ve got something better, if you’re interested.”

His eyes roam along your body, his breath drawing somewhat quicker when he notices the scrapes on your knuckles. “I might be.”

It takes five minutes to get him to a corner quiet enough to talk. Less than three to get your lips on his. One and a half to start sucking a mark into his neck that makes him moan so pretty you can’t help but want to hear it again.

One of your hands is up his shirt, playing with the pebbled buds and the metal pierced through them, while the other teasingly massages the skin of his hip when he’s torn away from you roughly.

“What the fuck?” Your voice growls as you look up. The guy is standing there, looking for all the world like he’s ready to run, but he isn’t watching you.

No, his eyes are on a familiar sight; Taehyung, his hair now a pretty lavender that makes you think of a home you don’t have, even as he doesn’t look at you.

“Taken,” He growls, releasing the collar of the guy you had every intent to make cry with pleasure. The guy scurries off before you can stop him, though, and you don’t bother to hide your disdain.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You demand, already lighting a cigarette as you head outside. Taehyung follows, pulling it from between your lips and crushing it in his hands before you have the chance to get your lighter out.

“Me? You looked like you were about to eat him .” He follows you all the way to the street outside and down the sidewalk, pulling each cigarette out of your hands before you can light it. He waits until you’re a decent distance from the crowd outside the club before he stops you, one hand lightly encircling your wrist.

Your boots scuff against the ground as you stop, not turning to look at him. You’re too afraid to, too worried he’ll see it all on your face and just know that you’ve fucked up, maybe beyond repair.

“Apollo called me,” is what he says instead. “Said I might want to find you tonight.”

You should’ve known. That little fuck, of course he would rat you out.

“I didn’t-”

The words choke in your throat. You want to say you don’t need him. You don’t need him to come running like you’re some scared little girl who can’t control her strength, you don’t need him to piece you back together because you aren’t broken, you don’t need him because you don’t need anyone, you never have.

“I know you didn’t,” Taehyung says quietly. “I know he deserved it, I know what he did, and I know you didn’t mean to.”

Something inside of you breaks and you find yourself shaking.

“He hurt her , Tae, I heard it, I heard her telling her friend about it on the phone, I saw her crying, I saw her clothes, okay, he-”

“I know,” Taehyung says, pulling you into a loose hug. “I know you did, it’s okay. He’s going to be okay. He’s not gonna escape his punishment from that, you didn’t send anyone to Hades today. It’s okay.”

The cloud struggles, for what feels like hours. Guilt settles like lead in your stomach, and you wish you weren’t so used to the feeling. The rage returns every time you remember what that girl looked like, what she sounded like on the phone, how you felt when you realized it was your competitor who had done that to her.

There’s no honor in that. There’s no justice, no glory, in beating an opponent who was never aware they were in the ring, and it makes your blood boil all over again. Taehyung’s voice soothes you, slightly, makes the edges of your vision turn indigo, but it isn’t enough.

It’s never enough.

“I have to go,” You say, pulling yourself away from him. “I need- I have to find-”

“A distraction,” He finishes for you, too aware that you can’t find the words you need. “Some mortal that you can bruise and break and bang until you feel less like a monster?”

That’s exactly what you want to do, what you had been about to do with that guy at the club, and it’s only Taehyung’s voice calling your name in that soft, sweet way of his that makes you wonder if that’s not a good plan.

“I’ll be a distraction, if you need one.” You whip your head around, staring at him, but he doesn’t flinch. “I’m sturdier than the mortals, I can take more. Let me be your distraction.”

“I…” You hesitate. You don’t know why. You shouldn’t even be entertaining this idea, it’s not a good one, but then...when have any of your ideas been good? “I can’t fuck in a house with eight other people.”

“You have an apartment,” He says easily. “Let’s go there.”

It’s a bad idea. You don’t do that, you don’t fuck people at your apartment, you don’t have people in your apartment, it’s your space. It’s a bad idea, it can only end in disaster.

“Okay.”

Taehyung’s lips are soft against yours, yielding and pliant just the way you’re used to. His hands are big and warm against your ass, even through your jeans, and the feeling gives you the courage to slide your own under the ridiculously patterned button-down he’s wearing.

He lets you lead the way through the door, kicking it closed behind you with slightly too much force. Your apartment is small, a studio with a bed tucked in the corner for the rare times that you need it.

You push Taehyung onto it and slide yourself onto his lap, already grinding down onto the hard length you can feel there. He's not quite as enthusiastic, but his fingers are like steel against you, pulling you down with every rut of your hips.

This, you can do. This, you're familiar with.

You push on his shoulders, doing your best to get him on his back so you can have better access to the clasp of his jeans, but he resists. You try again, firmer, using a harsh suck against his skin as a distraction, but he still doesn't go.

Frustrated, you pull back.

"Not like this," He says. His voice clears some of the fog, and you frown.

"Do you want to be on top, then? Because I don't mind, I just need it," You tell him. He sighs a little, but he flips the two of you over so he's kneeling between your open legs and your back is cushioned against the mattress.

"How long has it been since you spent the night with someone who knows who you are?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he sits back on his knees.

You shift, uncomfortable. "A while. Why does that matter? Just fuck me."

"No," Taehyung says, voice gentle but firm. You cock a brow at him and move to get out from under him, but he stills you with a hand on your thigh.

"You are a goddess," He tells you, trailing his hands down so he can undo the laces on your steel-toe boots and slide them off. "You have held Victory in your palms and set her free."

His palms burn through the denim on your thighs, but you welcome it as he slides your jacket over your shoulders to the bed beneath.

"You are the winner of wars. You are the one who grants battlefield wishes. You are the dead's escort to Hades." He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek and then down your throat.

He pulls back as he gets to your collarbone, eyes blown wide with unfamiliar desire, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.

"You," Taehyung tells you, with desire in his eyes and belief in his voice, "Deserve to be treated like the goddess that you are, with the respect you have earned, and the care you deserve."

As often as you fuck people, it's been a very long time since anyone wanted to fuck you for any reason beyond your appearance and the personality you show them. But this? This look in the muse's eyes as his hands settle on your knees as he waits?

Taehyung wants to fuck you because you're you. Not despite it, not because he doesn't know . He has seen you at your worst and yet he keeps coming back, keeps showing up as you fall apart. Each time he stays, hands you a basket so you can pick the pieces of yourself up off the ground, holds the tape so you can mash it back together, and is ready to help steady you when you start to crumble again.

He's here for you , to treat you in a way no one has ever treated you before. He's your friend.

He cares.

You nod, however tentatively, and his lips are on yours in an instant. They're firmer now, less pliable and more controlling, but you don't mind. Not this time.

Not with Taehyung.

His hands don't hesitate as he strips you both of your clothes, but you can feel it each time he checks to make sure you're okay. The way that he watches your expression, the tense of your muscles under him, the cadence of your gasps for air between kisses, he reads all of it as clear as if it's a book in front of him. He slows down before you can stop him, his lips drawing back from the kisses he draws across your thighs, and he speeds up as your thoughts start to drift, swiping his tongue and two fingers through your folds to tease and bring your attention back to him.

His fingers bury themselves in your heat, crooking slightly to brush against that soft part of you that makes the world spin, and it's all too intense. His lips are hardly even touching your skin, just pressing gentle kisses against the skin of your thigh, a gentle complement to the way he glides his fingers in and out of you, slow and steady and delicious, but it's absolutely intoxicating.

He's talkative, too; he gives you constant praise. He tells you how well you take his fingers, how good you look with his fingers inside you, how absolutely fantastic you taste on his tongue, how he'd live between your thighs if he could.

It's too much, and you can't be sure why, not when your orgasm is approaching quicker than it ever has, not when your walls clench around him and you soak your sheets, not when he's cleaning your cum off his fingers with his tongue.

"Good," He purrs. "Now you're all warmed up."

His mouth hits your heat without hesitation or warning, before the aftershocks are even finished, and your hips buck upwards. His arms slide underneath your thighs only to grip them and bring them back down. You can't move much in his grip except to grind your pussy against his mouth, which he seems to enjoy, if the muffled grunts that escape him are any indication.

He doesn't stop until his tongue is buried inside you with one finger drawing lazy circles on your clit and you're cumming again, hands gripping the soft strands of his hair so tight that you would be afraid of pulling it out if you could focus on anything besides the feel of him against you.

He lets you ride the aftershock, this time. Waits until your pants die down slightly, until you're back in your mind.

"Good?" He asks you. His voice is deeper, rumbles instead of slides, but it breaks through the post-orgasm haze long enough for you to nod. “More?”

“More,” you agree, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss. You haven’t been this clear-headed in a while. Every sensation is clear and crisp, every sound heightened, everything is simultaneously more while also being exactly what it’s always supposed to have been.

Taehyung’s cock is everything you could have expected from a muse; thick, long, beautiful, and it fills you in a way that’s indescribable as he slides inside. He groans at the feeling, deep and throaty and beautiful, and begins his thrusts nearly immediately.

It’s as slow as he was with his fingers; steady and forceful, but unhurried. As if he wants to take his time. As if he wants to savor it. Savor you .

“Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” He mutters, almost as an afterthought. “What you look like right now, what you look like when you’re fighting, when you’ve won and you’re triumphant? It’s fucking addictive, seeing that confidence in you.”

“Shit, Tae, don’t stop-”

“It’s so fucking intoxicating,” He groans, pace quickening. Your arms wrap around him more fully, nails like claws down his back as you arch your back to get him deeper. “You get this look in your eyes, like you can do anything you fucking want to, and it’s so fucking brilliant, because you can , you can do anything and everything you ever fucking want to do, and no one can stop you.”

A whine you’ll never admit to escapes your throat, and Taehyung drives his cock further into you.

“Let go, my sweet,” Taehyung purrs in your ear. “Let yourself relax, just this once. For me.”

His hand touches your clit and it’s so much, too much , you’re feeling everything so intensely that it takes a solid minute to realize you’re coming down from an orgasm. Taehyung has stilled inside you, unmoving but groaning as you flutter around him, and you push weakly at his shoulder.

He slides himself out of you, looking entirely too proud of wet spot underneath you and glistening against his lower stomach. You wobble your way up to rest your elbows underneath you, and it’s like he can sense your words before they come.

“No,” He says simply. “I don’t you to get me off with your mouth.”

“A hand then? I don’t want you to leave unsatisfied.”

A frown pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he leans down just enough that your lips are almost touching, a not-there kiss that you can only wish for.

“In what world is fucking you to the point of Elysium unsatisfying?”

The crowd around you is deafening; some of them are cheering for you, but the majority are rooting for your downfall. Such is the life of a challenging the champion, you suppose.

You don’t know how Taehyung found this place; maybe Artemis had heard rumors, or maybe he searched for it himself. You can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’ve got someone worth fighting on the other side of the arena.

The sand crunches beneath your feet. It’s hot, hotter than it should be since you’re still wearing your signature jeans and boots - without the jacket this time. You learned from that mistake.

Your vision tints pink as you size up your opponent; he’s massive, not one to be easily defeated, and you relish the challenge. It’s been so long since you’ve fought a giant. Excitement thrums under your veins as he turns to you. He scoffs.

If you had a little less control, you might be flying across the arena already. He clearly has no idea who’s standing across from him. Probably thinks you’re some demigod, come to challenge him for the fleece he isn’t supposed to have.

He’ll learn.

Something moves in the distance. It should blend in, considering how dark it is, but instead it draws your eye, and you don’t even question why. You would recognize him anywhere, have recognized him everywhere, and his presence calms you. Makes you remember a few nights ago, falling into bed in a hotel in Rome because the burn was to much and you needed him to help you release it.

“Try not to be too quick, princess,” The giant across from you huffs. You cock a brow and send a look to your muse, who just rolls his eyes, despite the smile playing across his face.

Violet rings your vision as you ready your stance. The announcer yells something that’s lost over the noise of the crowd. Taehyung leans forward, elbows on his knees, excitement and pride in his eyes.

The giant swings.

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

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Meeting and Dating Sticks

(My gif)(requested by anonymous)

- As a kid, you spent ever summer visiting your grandma and grandpas farm. It was the highlight of your year but there was something there that you wished you could avoid... Sticks.

- Ever since you were little the farmhands son would harass you, always trying to scare you, tease you, push you around. He infuriated you growing up and was the one thing you couldn’t stand about visiting your grandparents.

- He was also one of the first things that came to mind when your parents asked if you’d be willing to stay with them for a while as they packed up your old house. You’d be moving to the countryside not too far away from the farm as soon as they sold it.

- You figured that Sticks had to have grown up by then, you hadn’t seen him for over a year and who were you to turn down staying with your grandparents. You were... partly right.

- Stanley and Sticks picked you up from the bus station allowing you to get your first good look at the country boy “all grown up”. He’d gotten handsome was your first thought but the sentiment was lost the instant he opened his mouth.

“So the city slicker returns.”

- Immediately, you knew this prolonged visit wasnt going to be as peaceful as you thought it would. During your car ride, Sticks was relatively calm but after you got to the farm and were done settling in...the games began.

- Throughout the week, you were met with pranks, teasing, and all different annoyances. It seemed like Sticks genuinely just enjoyed seeing you get all worked up, and boy did you hate him for it. The thing you wanted most in the world was to wipe that smile off his face. But then things changed, well, not completely.

- It was a normal day, you’d been wandering around the farm trying to find something to do when you heard something in the barn. You figured something had fell over so you went inside to pick it up and maybe hang out in the straw for a while. When you went inside there was nothing seemingly out of place so you just went about hopping on the straw and exploring the bales.

- That was when Sticks popped out, scaring you half to death and laughing loudly as you shrieked. You yelled at him angrily, pushing him down while also managing to take yourself with him as you lost your footing. You ended up halfway on top of him and half poked by the straw.

- His laughter calmed as you realized his hands were on your sides, catching you before you crashed onto him. He didn’t seem all too fazed, aggravatingly content with your current situation. You quickly stumbled your way up and out of the barn, your cheeks burning hot as you made your escape.

- It was with abject horror that you realized you were falling for him. Slowly but surely you were noticing the redeemable qualities about him and disgusting yourself with those very same thoughts. Although you had to admit, he’d dialed down his pranks after the barn incident. You weren’t sure what it meant but you hoped it was good.

- Every now and again you’d catch his eyes on you, it felt as though he knew your secret and it bothered you to no end but you couldn’t risk confronting him. You couldn’t let him have a chance at embarrassing you even further. So you let him watch you and minded your business, keeping your distance as you tried to forget what your mind was pushing you to think about.

- It was a week or so later, you were walking by the cornfield when all of a sudden you were pulled in through the stalks. You shrieked but immediately clamped your mouth shut as you saw who it was. Guess who. He grinned even as you slapped his chest.

“What was that for!” You yelped, adjusting yourself as your heart attempted to slow itself down.

“I wanted to show you something.” He told you.

“And scare me half to death.” You glared

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” he scoffed amusedly. “Close your eyes.”

“Then how will I see what you want to show me.” You rebutted.

“Just close them, alright?” He said and you could have sworn he was nervous.

- So you closed them and waited. You were about to open them again to ask what he was trying to pull when something warm pressed against your lips. Your eyes flashed open as he quickly pulled away, watching you warily as he awaited your response. You weren’t sure what to say so you said nothing and began to walk down the trail between the corn.

- He called after you, hightailing it to catch up. Once he was at your side he apologized for everything, even the kiss, awkwardly stuttering his way through a confession of his feelings as you continued to walk. He pleaded with you not to tell anyone, telling you again that he was “real sorry for even trying”.

“Don’t be,” you finally said, taking a glance at him before hesitantly kissing his cheek and disappearing through the corn. You didn’t see it but the instant you were gone he jumped around, hidden behind the stalks with a massive grin on his face.

- Your first actual date was in the barn, he surprised you with a little set up in the loft. A soft blanket, food, music playing through a busted up radio; you had to admit, it was adorable. The two of you shared a real kiss and just like that the city slicker and the country boy were an item.

- You probably keep your relationship a secret from your parents and grandparents for a little while. You aren’t sure how they’ll react so you figure you’ll just see what happens between you two first, no sense making waves when you aren’t gonna surf.

- Theres not a lot of pda in your relationship mostly because he doesn’t want to get in trouble with your folks.

- He probably really likes cuddling but refuses to admit it because he’s a tough farm boy.

- Comparing accents and what you call things when you’re bored.

- He’s a fan of metal bands so you spend a lot of your time listening to them yourself.

- Every now and again he’ll ask you to help him cut his hair. You’ll sit on his bathroom sink and trim it while he rests his head in your lap.

- Sitting next to him for meals and secretly, purposefully brushing each other’s hands when passing food. Once in a while he’ll reach over and hold your hand under the table.

- Sticks kind of grew up differently than most kids. Where others were allowed to just be kids, he had to be grown up and much more responsible. Because of that, you’ll sometimes catch him acting like your father, telling you to do, or not to do, this or that.

- He’s always willing to help but usually teases that you owe him whenever he does.

- Anytime you walk away his eyes follow you until you’re out of view. Sometimes it’s subtle glances, other times not so much.

- Sharing looks with each other when things get weird.

- Accepting his father and his odd sayings wholeheartedly.

- His dad loves you almost as much as he does, platonically of course.

- Old habits die hard, right? He still likes scaring you but definitely doesn’t do it quite as much as he used to. He also likes telling you scary stories rather than trying to jumpscare you all the time.

- A part of him likes telling you ghost stories because they put you on edge and let him be your knight in shining armor, holding you close whenever you actually get scared.

- You’ve gotten used to his teasing by now so his incessant need to “occasionally” make your blood boil doesn’t affect you too much anymore.

- Teasingly stealing his gloves or hat when he’s not looking in retaliation.

- Resting in the straw together, you can’t remember how many times the two of you have fallen asleep in the barn.

- Whenever you’re ready to leave he tenderly picks pieces of it out of your hair, giving you a little smile as you peck him on the lips in return.

- Helping him with his pranks if they seem harmless enough.

- Occasionally helping him with his work so that he doesn’t kill himself trying to do everything by himself.

- Sometimes when you visit him while he’s working he’ll just start explaining what he’s doing or how something works. You never knew you could learn so much from just deciding to see your boyfriend.

- Kissing in the corn fields.

- Sneaking into his house late at night.

- Always stands behind your chair whenever you’re sitting. He does it so much that it feels weird not having his presence behind you whenever you’re somewhere without him.

- He always stands up for you no matter who he’s defending you from.

- He’s very protective, always keeping an eye on you or keeping you close. Whenever you’re encountering something he doesn’t like he’ll keep you behind him so that he can defend you if need be.

- Hes really good at comforting you whenever you’re worried, sad or scared; more so when he isn’t the direct cause of it.

- Eating pie together.

- Watching the stars or clouds (depending on the time of day). You lay your head against his arm as the two of you lie on your backs in one of the many open fields around the farm.

- Going on long walks together.

- Your grandparents probably don’t like the idea of you going off on your own so they made a rule that if you want to go somewhere in town you need to bring Sticks along completely unaware of the irony.

- Piggy back rides.

- Really likes getting kisses on the cheek. There’s just something so nice about it especially if you just do it out of nowhere.

- He probably still, jokingly, calls you “city slicker” but when he’s actually trying to use a pet name he’ll just say hon, darlin, missy or some kind of name that means something in your relationship.

- He probably built you a tire swing at some point so the two of you visit that and play around on it when he isn’t working.

- He likes listening to you read or talk while he does menial tasks. It makes his day a little less boring and let’s him appreciate how nice your voice is.

- He picks you little wild flowers he finds while working. Sometimes they end up a little wilted before he can give them to you but you appreciate the gesture.

- It’s pretty easy to get him worked up so fights happen... I wouldn’t say often but certainly not rarely. He’ll raise his voice but never quite yells at you, he just can’t bring himself to do it no matter how mad he gets in the moment.

- It doesn’t take long for the two of you to make up. Most of your fights are petty arguments just...louder. You’ll both apologize and hug and that will be the end of it.

- Sticks isn’t a very jealous person but he has his moments. Whenever he does get jealous the main reason behind it is his own insecurities. He can’t help but think it would be easier for you to date anyone but him. You wouldn’t have to deal with evil scarecrows or strange dads or dumb farmboys that don’t even work on their own farm.

- You always reassure him that you don’t want anyone else but him. He’s the only farmboy, the only boy at all, that you could ever love.

- He likes you, the real you, odd quirks and all. In fact, he finds the strange things about you kind of endearing in a way. It gives him more to learn about you and love.

- Even though he doesn’t say it very often, he really does love you. He never realized someone could make him as happy as you do. You really changed his life for the better.

#goosebumps headcanons #goosebumps headcanon #goosebumps imagine #goosebumps #scarecrow walks at midnight goosebumps #sticks imagine #sticks headcanons #sticks headcanon #sticks goosebumps #90s tv show #90s imagine #90s tv show headcanons #90s tv headcanons #90s tv show imagine #90s tv series

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happys-crazy-queen22 · 5 years

Text

Title: Little Bitches Get Blocked

Gif credit @mansons-horror-queen

Requested by @nocturnalherb16. I hope you like it. Thank you for requesting.

Happy reading Dollie.

Taglist: @chriscrosscerulli. @ilovetaquitosmmmm. @thisplace-ishaunted. @alilpunkrock. @jesseswartzwelder. @nocturnalherb16. @musicsexandpizza69. @myanaconda-will-consider1t. @baylishh. @ryansitkowskiswifey.

Why is it, when you have something going good someone always has to ruin it? You asked yourself as you looked at all the Instagram and Twitter hate that was posted. Every time you would click on a post more hate would pop up. It was depressing and it made you feel like you shouldn't be here.

You slammed the computer shut and sighed, laying back on the bed. The thought of Ryan made you smile by as soon as he was there a word or a sentence slashed him away. So you didn't think at all and rolled over going to sleep. Maybe you can forget what jealous people had to say and get some sleep.

"Ryan"? Chris called from the living room, getting the attention of his band mate and boyfriend to his little sister.

"What's up"? He asked sitting down beside him, taking a bite out of his turkey sandwich.

"Have you seen Y/Ns Twitter and Instagram lately"?

"No. Why, what's going on"?

Chris turned the laptop to Ryan's view, Ryan quietly read off some of the messages.

"You're just with Ryan for his money".

"How can Ryan be with a whore like you"?

"You're so fat, why is Ryan with you? When he could be with someone skinny and hot. Like me".

"You're a lazy bitch, that's mooching off of Ryan and Chris".

"You're not even Chris's sister, you're probably fucking all of them to get your fifteen minutes of fame. You whore".

Ryan balled up his fist squishing his sandwich. He hated when fans disrespected you. Talk all about the band you want to but when fans go after the ones he loved, he would go off.

"Is this on all her social medias"?

"Pretty much. It's mostly one girl. She won't leave Y/N alone".

"Who is she"? Ryan and Chris got closer to the laptop to see.

"Mypussytastelikeskittles". Ryan and Chris looked at each other than to the screen then back to each other. One last look and busted out laughing. Chris wiped away a tear, he was laughing so hard.

"Wow. I bet your pussy taste like shit. That's why you are such a fucking bitch to Y/N". Ryan yelled sarcastically to the screen.

"We should say something".

"I don't know. Y/N, hasn't commented yet so maybe we shouldn't".

"We are he brother and boyfriend, we're supposed to stand up for her. This person says she's a fan and fans shouldn't act like this toward our loved ones". Chris said typing on the key board.

"You're right. What are you going to say"?

"I'm writing on my Instagram to her. Im calling her out.

"Dear Mypussytastelikeskittles,

I would like to know what is your fucking problem with my sister? What has she done to make you say such lies? Is it because shes family and dating Ryan and you're not? Is it because she can go with us on tour and enjoy us twenty-four/seven? Or is it because you are such a low narrisitic person that you have to make someone feel the way you feel? This is not Creature behavior, this isnt fan behavior. You say you're a big fan, yet you belittle my sister and make her feel like she doesn't deserve to be with Ryan. They have been together for three years and you're the first fan that has had a problem with it. Why is that? Do you think you should date him? While I hate to break it to you honey but he doesn't go for trashy bitches that put people down because of their own insecurities. You need to work on you and go on. Cause it's never going to happen, that goes for any of the band members. They don't want you.

So I hope you can move on and don't get the hate you put out but somewhat deserve it. Don't call yourself a fan when you're nothing but a monster.

Sincerely, Chris Motionless".

"What do you think"? Chris asked Ryan as he was typing on his phone, probably calling her out too.

"Blocked and blocked". Ryan said as he clicked off his phone.

"You good"?

"Oh yeah. I laid into her about her bullying and the hatefullness coming from her".

"Good. We did the right thing". Chris reassured Ryan.

"I know. I'm going to go check on Y/N". Ryan got off the couch and walked into the room he shared with you. He saw you scrolling through your phone. The sleep didn't happen like you wanted.

"How are you"? He asked leaning on the door frame, the light from the living room showing his silhouette on the bedroom wall.

"I'm fine". You rolled over, looking at him.

"I saw the post you and Chris made. Thank you. You didn't have to do that. It may make things worse". You sat up in bed, Ryan came and sat beside you, snuggling into your embrace.

"I don't care if this girl calls the president and complains. No one is going to talk about you like that. It's all lies and everyone that knows you, knows that".

"I've had hate mail before but nothing like she's posting".

"She's jealous of us and what we have. She's jealous that you're Chris's sister and that you get to spend every minute with us".

"If she only knew". You said with a chuckle.

"We're not that bad".

"You guys stink. Have you been in a tiny van with a hundred skunks on a blazing hot day that try to cover it with body spray"?

"No".

"That's what it's like to tour with you guys in summer and it's horrible. Then you find week old dirty underwear hidden under the couch and the smell makes you nauseous. I've had that done to me a couple of time. The weird thing is, it's always Vinnys and Balzs underwear".

"That's disgusting. I didn't need to know that". Ryan laughed.

"Everything isn't band orgies and rainbows". You both laugh as Chris came in.

"What's happening now"?

"She posted on my post, saying she apologises and she hopes you forgive her but the goes on to say is Y/N really your sister cause she looks nothing like you. Then goes, how could Ryan pick you, when theres plenty of pussy out there that would show him a good time".

"She just wants her fifteen minutes of fame. Block her and then it'll be over until she comes back with a new username".

"Report her".

"I did and I contacted twitter and Instagram. They're looking into it".

"Thanks for trying guys. But I don't care what some wannabe has to say anymore. She doesn't know my life and never will". You say kissing Ryan's head.

"That's my sister. Take no shit from some jealous bitch".

"Yeah. Down with the narrisitic bitches. We don't want you and dont have time for you and your mind games". Ryan chanted. You laughed as Ryan started jumping on the bed. Chris danced with laughter. They were very protective of you, especially when it came to the so called fans that just wanted to play mind games and try and destroy what you have but that didn't stop them from making you laugh.

#ryan sitkowski imagine #happys crazy queen22 #ryan stikowski fanfiction #ryan sitkowski x reader #ryan sitkowski fanfiction #ryan sitkowski #ryan sitkowski imagines #ryan sitkowski motionless in white #motionless in white fanfiction #chris motionless #motionless in white #chris motionless x sister reader

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tfw-no-tennis · 4 years

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mtmte liveblog issue 9

back at it again, and its time for the shadowplay arc, HELL yeah

oh I'm so excited i love this arc lets DO this

oooh its nightbeat and quark!! way before they become relevant, which is so cool

‘one of those recepticon fanatics’ lmao imagine if they were...the recepticons. just doesn't have the same ring to it

god i fucking love all the politics of mtmte. i love how they’re talking about the senate here before we really get to See how bad they were (we heard a bit about it from whirl a few issues ago, and now here)

love how nightbeat is pretty much agreeing with the decepticon ideology here, even if its clear that he isn't Actually a decepticon - it just drives home the fact that, in this story, The Decepticons Were Right About A Lot Of That Stuff (or at least, they had a reason other than ‘destruction’ for rebelling).

AND THEN THERES RUNG!!!!!!! WITH HIS MODEL OF THE LOST LIGHT....god i fuckgin LOVE the continuity in this story bc the first time reading this ur like oh ok rung is old yea makes sense...but then later all the time travel stuff happens and then its like OHHHHH

damn poor rung nightbeat can rlly tell he's lonely just by looking at him vbhjdkdfhbjsjkdf geez. also nightbeat that's ur mystery stick bf from the future js!!

quarks extreme POV on all of the stuff is so interesting, and makes so much sense bc of Course he would think that as a non-combatant scientist who, due to his functional value in current society, wouldn't really benefit much from a revolution - in fact, he’d probably lose a lot. and that’s the sort of thing where you’re like, ok well think about everyone else dude, have some perspective - but at the same time, quark did suffer a pretty terrible fate, so his fears weren't entirely unfounded...augh, its so fascinating...im sorry I'm not gonna shut up about space robot politics this Entire time

HOW did nobody notice that dead body before now

ratchet spray-painting the hands he stole from pharma to match his own paintjob is like...kinda gruesome if you think about it hvbhsjkdfbkjdf

i love rewind sooo much oh my god

he rlly stashed rung’s comatose body in a wheelchair behind the bar hbkjdhfbshjkdf rewind

rewind and chromedome’s tag-team explanation....ough hhhhh THEM

wait a sec, rewind, you have medical records in your database? that is, at least according to regular medical laws, very illegal lmao. my favorite long-running theme in mtmte: the fact that hipaa and osha laws on cybertron are either basically nonexistent, or just universally disregarded

what the actual fuck is up w/cybertronian time units. that shit is wack as hell

ooh i love how chromedome looks different in the flashback - no shoulder tires! - that's a cool detail

how come prowl just said ‘minute,’ rewind was busting it up w/all the wack ass fantasy time units just a second ago. geez

also goddd i love the scenery of pre-war cybertron, its SUCH a cool setting like, visually and aesthetically and politically

like, i adore details like the sign in the bg that says ‘everyone’s shape serves a purpose.’ really adds to the ‘society on the precipice of civil war currently controlled by an increasingly-desperate faction who are doling out propaganda like crazy in an attempt to maintain their image and control over the populace’ vibe

good ole murder mystery setup. love it!

pre-war prowl is such an interesting character. actually prowl in general is such an interesting character...I kinda wrote him off during my first read of mtmte (and even a little during my second readthru) as just this dude who’s an asshole (espec bc my prev tf experience involved watching tfa as a kid, and this prowl is very different from tfa prowl lol)...but prowl is SUCH a multi-faceted and interesting character, even in the relatively little we see of him in mtmte

plus it was interesting to learn later that prowl was one of the characters that jro wanted for mtmte and didn't get, and MAN i wish he got prowl bc I would've loved to see what jro would've done w/prowl on the lost light, that would've been amazing. like, just imagine the arc he would have...I have no idea what that arc would BE, but I know it would be awesome. plus I’d be really interested to see how prowl would factor in, relationships-wise, amongst the crew of the lost light. so much potential!

anyways. I'm in a very talky mood tonight it seems. its currently 4 am so that kinda explains it. ok, moving on!

chromedome and prowl bantering....in their own morbid forensic-cop way...

skids bvhjdbsfjasf. speaking what we’re all thinking: is prowl gonna keep showing up in mtmte despite not technically being part of the cast??

swerves drawing of prowl lmaoooo

AND THEN REWIND IN SOME OF MY FAVORITE MTMTE PANELS....fuckgin cracks me up every time god. rewind was rlly about to flip their entire ass table just to demonstrate that prowl is a serial table-flipper...and then he cant even make the table budge and he just stares at his hands like ‘how could you betray me like this’ hvbajkhhsfdhksdf PEAK hilarity

drift hvbshfdjbasdfj his forcibly cheery expression even tho he’s being harassed by rodimus, who is a big whiny toddler w/drift lmao

rodimus is the type of guy who, upon drift not replying to one of his texts, would post a whole twitter thread being all like ‘these days u cant trust any1 to hav ur back...u think u kno someone and then they just ghost you...(1/14)’

again, rewind, HOW and WHY do you just Have medical reports, oh my god, somebody please call a hipaa agent I’m scared,

ratchet interrupting the story to give a quick medical PSA....that's Such an on-brand thing for Me to do that I feel like jro is assigning me ratchet kin as I read this

also, hey, its sonic and boom, those two decepticons from delphi! nice little continuity there

AND HERES ORION PAX SUPER COP

can’t believe idw made my dad optimus prime into a cop. smh. shouldn't be that shocked tho, I feel like half the idw characters are cops

orion rlly hit them w/the omae wa mo shinderu arrest strat

orion: I cant believe you're beating this guy up. anyways, now I'm gonna beat YOU up,

when ratchet puts his hand over drifts mouth and then gets spray paint on drifts face bhjdfsvsdjhfgbjdskf

pre-war ratchet and drift ;_; ratchet’s little inspirational speech...the fact that he tells drift that he’s special...the fact that drift remembered all of this even after 4 million+ yrs...it gets me bro it GETS me

ALSO the layers in the fact that drift then goes on to become a well-known murderous decepticon...so this little scene of him and ratchet in the past gives a lot of context to ratchet’s general attitude towards drift - ratchet clearly feels at least somewhat responsible for all the blood on drift’s hands, since he saved drift’s life way back in the day

the whole relinquishment clinic thing is such cool worldbuilding, bc of course that's the kind of thing that would develop in a society of robot aliens who are only allowed to work within the rigid confines of their alt mode

I love the whole matrix thing bc its kinda like being the pope or st but also you have a ton of political sway, so its a super important position, so of Course the corrupt senate would want full control over that power, and would assassinate the current prime to try to get their own guy in

god vhbhjsdkbgshjdf rodimus is such a dick lmao poor drift

HHHHH I love that the cybertronian version of an autopsy is taking the dudes body apart into the smallest components and laying them all out. that's so fucking cool

hmmmm chromedome maybe you should Not be interested in mnemology, how about that,

oh god. time to start being sad about op and senator shockwave. oh god

senator shockwave more like senator sexy

also the first time I read this I thought I had just missed his name and like halfway thru the story I went back and scoured the pages looking for it hbvhsjdfbshgfdsbj then I was like oh ok so we’re maybe supposed to just know who this guy is from another comic? but NOPE it was very deliberate and I only realized very close to the end that they were setting up some sort of reveal

its funny bc normally I'm not a huge fan of stories where politics play a huge role but I fuckgin love it here, the politics and worldbuilding is all so interesting and also balanced out with a healthy dose of cool sci-fi hijinks, so

lmao there's chromedome being obsessed w/people making the ‘pfft’ sound

also wow yet more hindsight, maybe you Shouldn’t be so interested in the Institute, chromedome,

OHHHH shit I forgot abt the red alert stuff happening at the same time as this :( :( :(

AUGHHH what a fucked up situation. god

oooof i gotta continue now!! what a solid issue, I love the shadowplay arc

#lj rereads mtmte

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oceanivoxjoquainx · 6 years

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If you haven't watched Sex Education yet... what is you doing?

Its a Netflix Original that came out on Jan 11th 2019 and its just absolutely amazing. I loved it and all the characters. Theyre not all cardboard cut out good people. They all have their ups and downs like real people do. Heres just some of my favorite things in this show (Spoilers. Duh):

Eric's dad being genuinely caring about his sons safety and not hating him for being the way he is. Just worried about what could happen to him like when he got punched in the face by those homophobes. I could feel the worry coming off of his dad when his boy walked in the door with tears in this eyes and everything on him messed up.

While on the topic of Erics dad I also wanna talk about his family. Like when he was going to the party and showed his outfit to the fam all his sisters wigs were snatched and even though his mom looked surprised she still seemed to accept it? Like a big worry throughout the show was what would his mother do if she saw him like that and it made me think she was homophobic. She might be and it just wasnt shown to us but still. Cute moment. Awesome family.

Eric in general. Gonna have to make a whole other post about him.

Maeve is such a strong compelling character regardless of how bad life had her she still manged to brush it off and be the feminist icon we all needed. Shes a hot mess most of the time but always comes and drops that sweet knowledge and those brilliant ideas at any given moment. Shes caring and sensitive which is rare when theres a "bad ass female who doesn't care" character in a show. I feel bad that she finally went to go confess to Otis AFTER he moved on but that's life aint it?

Adam was a cute ass jerk who is a true disaster bi but ill talk about him when I talk about Eric.

That whole popular crew were trashy but even they had their good parts. Olivia standing up for Ruby even when it was her that did the damage was touching to watch especially after everyone else joined it and it was funny watching Groffs mental pain. Anwar isssss eh and imma leave it at that. Theyre all still not good people tho.

Aimee is the only popular one I think we all actually liked because she was adorable and sweet and even tho she his that her and Maeve were friends they still supported each other when they needed it and Aimee even left her toxic crew to be with Maeve 100%.

All the mums in the show were great from Jean straight down to Adams mum (who probably should get out of that borderline abusive relationship with Groff but ah well). Was proper shook when we were shown that Jackson had two mums and I love that its so normal now that it wasn't made out to be some big thing or secret that Jackson had two mums. The uptight one could use a chill pill but she just wants the best for her boy. But really tho she needs to chill. Jean too. Even when Otis complained about her overstepping boundaries it seems that she disregarded his thoughts and even tho she apologized I still feel like she didn't really get it. Thats just me tho. Loved all of her grace and elegance tho.

Otis Otis Otis. The hot mess of the month. His sex repulsion made me believe he was asexual at first and was from then on iffy on if Otis actually wanted a relationship and sex or if he was doing what peopel thought he should be doing. When it was relevaed his repulsiveness actually came from his father cheating and his mother having multiple issues I still felt that him being ace shouldve been adressed. At least by his sexologist mother who knew he was fake masturbating and not into sex in the slightest. Was great how he counciled and helped all the people he did tho and it was nice seeing the reality of teens having sex and having issues with sex being talked about.

Alrighty so onto a few minor complaints about the show. They weren't deal breakers for me liking the show at all and are just some minor nitpicks I have.

I wish they talked about Erics attack more instead of just showing us Otis making it about him and turning it into a Otis and Eric argument arc. Would've been a great opportunity for Otis to grow as a person and realizing that he was brushing Eric off way too often. I also would've liked to see Eric actually come to grips that he was attacked as its not shown if he actually dealt with that experience internally.

I also feel like many side characters were often dropped into obscurity until the show needed them back again. Like Adam who was pretty important in the first few episodes but then trickled out until the last episode. And Ruthie and Tanya whos relationship status is still in the air (even tho it can be infered that Ruthie broke up with Tanya).

Back onto Otis possibly being ace I feel disappointed they didnt go down that path as being ace always seems to be a character flaw that people must somehow overcome. I'm glad he got his erections and managed to bust one at the end of it all but it still felt like Otis has finally battled those ace demons and overcame those unnatural unwanted "I don't want sex" thoughts.

Jeans issues are never actually dealt with either. She just goes from "scared of commitment because of cheating ex husband" to "I'm in love with my plumber". She never confronted her demons and just moved along.

The show is still incredible overall and brushes on important issues when it comes to sex like how feelings affect sex, consent, sex positivity, rejection, if or if not someone's ready for sex, and body issues and positivity. Its a heartwarming story with many complex characters who are all not all good or all bad. They're human and they all make mistakes and they learn and grow into better people because of it. Didn't know Sex Education existed until a couple days ago and I just finished watching it a couple minutes ago but it has very quickly become one of my favorite shows and I can't for it to get a season 2.

#sex education #sex education netflix #netfix #otis milburn #eric effiong #maeve wiley #adam groff #seriously tho you should watch it #its amazing #a great start for 2019

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michaelmilkers · 5 years

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I saw in one of your tags that you mentioned how 21 pilots made emo pretentious and im actually curious about why you say that (not hate i just never knew about them that much)

my friend you have asked me about a topic i am very knowledgeable and very angry about so prepare yourself for what you have wrought

it isnt just twenty one pilots but theyre just the biggest and most popular example

like. take my chemical romance in the early-mid 2000s aka the peak of emo. it was very melodramatic and theatrical, the way emo should be. there was a presence of “we are not like other people” in a lot of the songs, but it was never just that. it was more of a “we have been cast out and we kinda suck but thats okay.” one of the best examples of this is, ironically, i’m not okay.

take, for example, the opening to the mtv music video:

[Ray] You like D&D, Audrey Hepburn, Fangoria, Harry Houdini and croquet. You can't swim, you can't dance and you don't know karate. Face it, you're never gonna make it. [Gerard] I don't wanna make it, I just wanna...

this immediately establishes the song as being about social outcasts and people who dont fit the mold. the fucking tag line of the song is “i’m not okay” ffs, that really tells you all you need to know about the song. but the important thing is it doesnt take itself too seriously either. the music video takes place in a private school, and shows scenes of the band members eating lunch alone, being bullied by jocks and preps, etc., but it ALSO shows scenes of frank putting swim goggles on in chemistry class and ray drawing on his test with a crayon and then licking it, and at the end they all ambush and beat the shit out of a guy in a mascot costume. all of this is cut up by text saying things like “if you ever felt alone” “if you ever felt wronged” “if you ever felt anxious”

do you see the juxtaposition here? the music video could very very easily be a fake deep bullying psa, but its not, because while theyre getting bullied and playing their music in a garage they are also, unequivocally, total fucking losers for obvious comedic effect. it is a very exaggerated and lighthearted version of real phenomena, which makes it more relatable to a wider audience.

the same can be said about the song itself. it has some pretty heavy and angsty lyrics (”i’m not o-fucking-kay”) but the instrumentals are punchy and energetic and catchy and gerard’s vocal delivery is very theatrical but also very deliberate and he still puts real emotion in the words. it sounds like its taking the piss out of not being okay, which is exactly what i as a clinically depressed 13 year old needed, and i bet a lot of other people can say the same. i’m a loser and thats okay. i fucking suck in school and thats okay. i feel shitty and thats okay. i’m not okay and that, in itself, is okay.

with twenty one pilots, on the other hand, there is no theatrics, theres no taking the piss, theres no over-the-top melodrama that made emo what it was.

take, for comparison, the opening lines of heathens:

All my friends are heathens, take it slow Wait for them to ask you who you know Please don't make any sudden moves You don't know the half of the abuse

and this presents, immediately, one of my biggest criticisms of twenty one pilots: their rampant appropriation of mental illness.

because my first thought when hearing this is as an abuse survivor and someone with ptsd they can kiss every single square inch of my ass.

Welcome to the room of people Who have rooms of people that they loved one day Docked away Just because we check the guns at the door Doesn't mean our brains will change from hand grenades You're loving on the psychopath sitting next to you You're loving on the murderer sitting next to you You'll think, "How'd I get here, sitting next to you?"

they try to do the same kind of nuanced poetic lyrics that my chemical romance did and in my opinion is just doesnt fucking work because they take themselves SO. FUCKING. SERIOUSLY. it sounds JOYLESS.

and the song closes out with this:

Why'd you come? You knew you should have stayed (It's blasphemy) I tried to warn you just to stay away (Away) And now they're outside ready to bust (To bust) It looks like you might be one of us

this is what i mean by pretentious. there is a clear separation of the person/people from whose point of view the song is told and the people the song is meant to be listened to by from the greater population, but theres no high energy or comedic self deprecation to counteract it.

now take some lyrics from heavydirtysoul, a song i actually really like the sound of, im not just shitting on this band bc its not to my taste yall:

There's an infestation in my mind's imagination I hope that they choke on smoke 'cause I'm smoking them out the basement This is not rap, this is not hip-hop Just another attempt to make the voices stop

Nah, I didn't understand a thing you said If I didn't know better I'd guess you're all already dead Mindless zombies walking around with a limp and a hunch Saying stuff like, "You only live once." You've got one time to figure it out One time to twist and one time to shout One time to think and I say we start now Sing it with me if you know what I'm talking about

right back at it again with that appropriation of mental illness symptoms! and some dumbass critique of our generation that doesnt fit in with the rest of the song at all, closing out the verse with “we are not like you” shit. the vocal delivery at least has more energy than heathens, but the lyrics just feel like a mishmash of different points theyre trying to make that have nothing to do with each other.

the best line of the song is undoubtedly “death inspires me like a dog inspires a rabbit” but its poetic just... for the sake of being poetic? its one of those lyrics that sounds like someone came up with and was like “bro we gotta put that in a song” but then couldnt actually figure out how to fit it into a song in a way that would flow. another example of this is “i cant drown my demons they know how to swim” in bring me the horizon’s can you feel my heart. not shitting on bring me the horizon, i really like sempiternal, but thats another line thats just poetic for the sake of being poetic. and to be put on t-shirts. i know this because when i was 12 i had a shirt that said “i cant drown my demons they know how to swim” on it.

i could do more analysis on other mcr songs, namely welcome to the black parade and famous last words, but i would be here for literal hours and idk if people actually care that much.

to sum my points up:

they take themselves too seriously. they appropriate and romanticize mental illness (forgot to mention that top’s website, at one time, described their music as “schizoid pop” lol). they pull a lot of “We Are Not Like Other People..,.,.,,...” shit.

that last point is not inherently a bad thing, for example the new slipknot album is literally called “we are not your kind” but the song that contains that line as a lyric is all out life, and corey taylor is screaming that entire song and the instrumentals are reminiscent of speed metal with how fucking energetic they are. its edgy and its GREAT. twenty one pilots just sounds like they think theyre the shit.

also, and i want you to read the following sentence in a bass boosted voice to best understand how i feel when i say this:

the twenty one pilots cover of cancer is an embarrassment that completely misses the point of the original song and changed it into a weird amalgamation of lo-fi synth pop.

emo music is dead. thank u and goodnight.

#Anonymous

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queenlifesupport · 6 years

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Like It’s Yours (Ben x Joe x Y/N) #1

A/N : This is sorta inspired by @freddiesmercvry (Truth or Dare) and low-key from 50 Shades of Grey... Also please leave suggestions for scenes or some smutty situations!! (this might have typos, also im so tired while writing this so it might be SHIT)

WARNINGS : SEX, Language, Unprotected Sex, Kinkiness. WORDS : 3,019

I haven't been out of my small apartment in days, I had work piled on my desk like theres no tomorrow, my job was absolutely pushing me to the edge and I needed a break before I fell. I used the strong liquor in my hand to pump myself with confidence in order to move onto the dance floor, I wasn't much of a drinker but tonight called for it. It was hard to make out what song was playing due to the overdramatized bass that throbbed through my eardrums, but whatever it was, people still let loose of their problems and personal lifestyle.

I attempted to stand while the drink flew through my system, accomplishing balance on my six inch heels. The confidence finally brought me to the large gathering I've been eyeing all night. I entered the crowd, feeling like I'm lost in a humid corn-maze, being bumped into by random strangers that were also tipsy, some more than others. Finding the middle of the crowd, it was my time to let loose. During the midst of my drunken swaying, my eyes fluttered open to view those around me, gaze following the eyes a man a few feet away. He looked lascivious as he mirrored my moves. His blonde hair was slightly swept to the side, he wore an all black suit that tailored him quite nicely, you could tell he was fit. I held his stare intensely, not daring to make a move in his direction for I did not want to lose the challenging match so easily. He seemed to not budge easily either, I debated in my mind to either approach or signal him over. His glare made my stomach slightly weak, out of reflex I looked away, I knew I couldn't approach him on my own. I continued to dance, deciding to slow it down, adding more sensualness to the way I moved. I needed to draw him in and this was the only way I knew how. Although our beaming was cut off from my shyness, I could feel his eyes still exploring every inch of my body. My feet began to ache, I had a inclination that connections would not ascend further, I'd rather sit down instead of waste my time. I looked up one last time, giving the stranger a smile before strutting off to the lounging area. I felt overheated from the moving along from the warmth emanating off others, once getting away from the swarm I accompanied myself on the white pleather. I sighed at the cool air being pushed over me from the air conditioning overhead, I wondered why there wasn't air conditioning above the dance floor. It was getting late according to the time on my phone screen, I should head home soon so I can attempt to demolish my workload tomorrow.

"Hello." My thoughts were interrupted by a harsh British accent, I took a gander at the wellspring of the voice and to my surprise it was him, the one from the herd in the dancing mass. My eyebrows lifted ever so lightly, I didn't think he'd follow.

"Oh - hi." I could only manage a short response. He lightly chuckled before asking me if he could accompany me on the cushion, I accepted. He smelled of Versace cologne, the hint of green apple, mint, and lemon, it was exhilarating on its own.

"Crowded night, I suppose." His voice was as mesmerizing as his scent.

"Indeed. I've never been here, thought I'd give the nightlife a try."

"I agree, I usually come here to meet interesting people, and as of now, I've accomplished my goal."

"You don't even know my name." I laughed now.

"Good point, I'm sure it's as interesting as you seem. Now humor me." From then on, we talked about all sorts of aspects of our lives; work, friendships, hobbies, and even romantic relationships. I learned his name is Ben, he lives with his best friend Joe, he's an actor, and he plays football (soccer) in his pastime. Once I looked down again at my phone, it allowed us to see we've talked for about 2 and a half hours straight. Time did fly when you're having fun.

"I should probably get home." My smile faded at the thought of ending our night, he frowned slightly too. I opened iMessage to text my friend, earlier she agreed to drive me home since I would be drinking and I've always been her designated driver in the past. "I just have to wait for my ride, in the meantime I can get your number?"

"Sounds lovely." He recited his number to me as I quickly pounded it in, setting his contact as 'Ben'.

"We should get together sometime soon, maybe coffee tomorrow?" A ding from my phone alerted me of a notification. "Fuck - she can't pick me up."

"What's going on?"

"Her tail-light is busted, she doesn't want to get pulled over while driving around." I sighed frustratingly. My apartment was about a 45 minute walk from here and I wasn't in the mood to walk in heels.

"I can order you an Uber."

"No no - You don't have to pay for me. I can order one."

"Why don't you come over for the night? It's just 10 minutes away." He seemed serious about his statement. I couldn't tell if it was a legitimate invitation. Would I really go home with him? I wasn't that type of person, meet them then immediately jump to the next thing. "Well, are you down?"

"Sure, I don't see the harm in that." I didn't even give a second thought to my answer.

The industrial-loft like apartment was dark and smelled of cedar wood, it gave a very expensive vibe yet homey at the same time. I hung my purse and coat up on the welcoming racks and followed Ben further into the flat, as we ventured through he flicked every light switch allowing the place to illuminate under the warm lights. We entered the kitchen, presently taking a seat at the island as he sought what appeared to be a wine rack.

"Care for a drink? We have Dom Perignon, Caymus, whatever you desire." I desire him.

"I don't speak rich, surprise me." He gave my comment a delightful snicker. My love life was very exhausting, I was constantly focused on my profession. I never discovered many fascinating folks, however he was something different. He was adorable, smart, kind, and as a plus, rich.

"For the lady, Beau Joie." He held two beautiful champagne flutes, each held a fizzing liquid. I accepted the cup between my fingers and took a drink at the same time as him. I've just heard of this stuff in romance books and films, yet I was at that point of truly liking him in one night. I felt my cheeks heat up with a pink as he sent me little wink while his lips pursed around the glass rim. "Have I let you know that you're the beautifulest amongst all the women I've ever seen?" I couldn't help but roll my eyes playfully, biting my lip at his compliment.

"You haven't seen many women I assume?" My eyebrow raised at him as I yet again took a sip of the champagne that tasted like citrus and apple as it hit my many tastebuds.

"I've seen my fair share, and I can tell you what I said was a fact. Don't believe me if you want, but I can prove it if needed." I gulped at the possibilities he could be suggesting.

"And what are you implying, Mr. Hardy?" I scooted to the edge of my seat, leaning in closer to him. He did the same, only a few inches from my lips.

"Why don't you kiss me and find out?" His voice was deep, pushing me over the edge, I couldn't deal with him. I went forward, crashing my lips with his soft ones, sharing the alcoholic tase between the sensual moment. I didn't mind the taste. I felt his strong grip move to my thigh as we continued to synchronize our lips, soon feeling his tongue graze my bottom lip in anticipation to enter. I allowed it. We pulled apart after a few moments of heavy interaction, we both sat there out of breath.

"Take off your blazer." My request was forward and I demanded I got what I asked for. He slipped it off without question, grabbing onto the bottom hem of his under shirt, giving me a questioning look before I nodded, then he took that off too. I was correct before, he was fit, my fingers ran down his abs, drawing an imaginary sloppy line from his V-line to his biceps, clutching a hand around his upper arm to feel the hard muscle.

"Maybe we should get you out of that pretty little dress of yours?" His whisper was dripping with lust, I had to clench my thighs harder. Everything he said drove me crazy, I was soaked at this point.

"Who said you earned it?"

"Who said you were the one in control here?" He made me melt, he was so dominant and I loved it. I surrendered, standing up, first unzipping it from the back as we held eye contact, then slipping down the dress sleeves, finally pulling it down to pool around my feet. He bit his lip at the sight of the black lace panties I wore underneath, the dress had enough support to wear it without a bra. In the cool air, my nipples were hard at the high amount of excitement I felt. "I think you might be missing something else." He slightly pointed at the thong I still wore. I slid my thumbs into the waistband, teasing him by stretching out the fabric but not pulling them down. As I continued, I could see him getting quite impatient in his seat. "Now." I finally slid them down at his command, feeling embarrassment at my exposure but replaced it with fake confidence.

"What now?" I sweetly asked, swaying seductively as I walked myself directly in front of him. He harshly grabbed onto my hips, pulling me in to take my nipple between his teeth, harshly sucking and nipping. I moaned loudly, his sudden action sparked my body massively. "Fuck - Ben." My hand took a fistful of his blonde hair, tugging slightly. His suction pulled off as he took a moment to look up at me.

"Don't call me that." I looked down confused. "You can call me Sir." He then wrapped his lips along the other breast. His other hand found its way to between my thighs, rubbing my clit slowly. His fingers rolled perfectly.

"Hmph - Sir, I need more please." He hummed against the soft skin in response, he continued. "Please, I need to be fucked." He withdrew his lips and hands from me, standing up to match my height, unbuttoning the suit pants then releasing himself from them. Once he was left in his boxers, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the counter on the other side of the island. Although there was a cup holding utensils, he used his arm to sweep them off the counter and to the floor, scattering everywhere. He once again grabbed onto my hips, ordering me to jump then also lifting me up to sit bare-ass on the counter, he re-adjusted his hand position, placed his hands on both my under thighs, lifted them up so that my pussy was at a better angle for him to enter while I leaned back and held myself up on my arms. He bit his lip as he gazed down at my glistening slit.

"You're so wet for me, princess. How bad do you want my dick in your tight little pussy?" I rolled my head back in anticipation.

"So bad, Sir, please fuck me." He finally removed his last layer, revealing his hard and throbbing cock, I licked my lips at the sight of him completely nude in front of me. I moaned quietly as he teased me with his tip, it was this moment I was beyond thankful I was on birth control. I craved him cumming inside me. I made no remarks at his slow entrance, I knew thats what he wanted from me. Suddenly he thrusted in slowly, I moaned out, hearing him sigh as he slipped in.

"You're so tight, babygirl. You feel so good around my cock." He continued a slowed pace, allowing me to adjust to his length and width. At first it felt slightly uncomfortable but was soon replaced with pure bliss.

"Sir, please go faster, " He slightly built up to a fast pace with my request. The sound of our moans and slapping skin filled the quiet apartment. His thrust grew faster and deeper, and I moaned even louder with every push. At this point I was a moaning mess, the pleasure took over from the waist down, the overflowing delight clouded my head.

"Turn around, I want your ass facing me and your stomach against the counter." He slid out of me, causing me to whine in response. "Do it, now." I followed his order and managed to rotate myself on my tits, it was cold sending small goosebumps on the surface of my skin. "Such a lovely ass." As his words distracted me, his cock slipped back into my slit, hitting deeper than the last time. I cried out in pleasure, stretching my arms out attempting to reach for something. All of a sudden the sound of glass hitting the floor could be heard, I knocked the glass full of champagne off the counter.

"Fuck Ben, I'm sorry." I managed to get out between breaths as I used my hand to push behind me on his chest. All he did in response was grab my wrist and pin it behind my back.

"I don't care, don't think about it babygirl." He sped up once again, now grabbing a fistful of my hair. My legs started to weaken from all the pleasure, I couldn't control any sounds that left my mouth. I barely had a grip on my surroundings either. "Shit baby, I'm close." His teeth clenched together, grunting as he continued the pace.

"Cum in me Sir, fill me up." I attempted to push him over, and I succeeded. Feeling his warm cum release inside me. After a few sloppy thrusts, he pulled himself out.

"Now it's time for you baby." He lowered his face to my cum dripping pussy, licking a strip from my clit to my opening, pressing his tongue into my slit. I groaned as his tongue thrusted in and out, it was significantly more exciting to me that he had quite recently came inside me and is currently licking it up. I didn't require substantially more attention to cum, I was already close when he was fucking me with his dick.

"Sir, I'm close." I moaned.

"Not yet baby." He muffled against my pussy. I rolled my eyes as I attempted to not cum. His tongue removed from me, now standing and inserting two fingers. Curling them with every moan, he harshly pulled up and down causing an intense amount of pleasure. I was bound to cum at this point.

"Sir, p-please, let me" I couldn't finish the sentence without stuttering on my moans, "let me cum, please."

"Now, babygirl." And with his reaffirming words, I let myself release around his fingers, urging them with both our cum joined. "Face me." I pitifully pivoted, looking at his fingers he held at my face level. "Suck." I eagerly took his fingers in my mouth. Sucking and enjoying our tastes together, once I licked all the wetness from his fingers he sighed as he removed them from my mouth. "You better to go tidy yourself up, sweetheart." His voice was presently delicate as we ogled at one another, flushed from our recent climaxes.

"Wheres your room?" My voice was strained and tired from the many moans I recited.

"Down the hall, second room on the left." I let myself down from the counter, to my surprise he snaked his hand behind my neck, pulling me in for a soft kiss. I blushed before I slightly wobbled to his room.

It was the following morning, I laid in his bed, naked whilst enveloped by his white sheets. I didn't know what I was thinking the previous evening, however I was satisfied with my result. The washroom entryway was open, enabling me to watch Ben wash himself in the steamy and glass doored shower. I had no desire to go home. I heard the water stop, signaling me that he would be emerging any moment. The shower door accompanied the silence that now filled the room.

"When do you want me to go home?" I called to him, tracing imaginary shapes on the sheets.

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