#it was my guiltiest pleasure for like a week

[swirlingyouintomypoems]

Actually how do y’all manage to read rpf bc I will not even lie to you I have dabbled in it and now every time I come across something ****** related I freak out bc if I see the person I read disgusting smut about I will actually throw up

[ms-all-sunday]

good news everybody me getting triggered gave me enough confidence to write a/b/o fanfiction

[otomiyaa]

Catching up (Tag Game)

Ive been a bit on and off and felt like making a tag game so here's one to catch up on each other's interests and hyperfixations! Answer the 10 questions and tag 5 people. No pressure ofc!

@fluffandgiggles @ppystkposts @crazy-as-a-jaybird @blobbirobbi @kusuguricafe + everyone who wants to join! **edit + everyone who received a notification from when I tried to tag 10+ people and the tumblr post broke 😂

❤️ Newest obsessions: Dungeon Meshi, probably has been clear.. and capybaras. Taylor Swift not very new but refueled obsession since seeing the eras tour concert!

🎥 Last 3 movies I watched and what I thought of them:

Inside Out 2 - CRYING SOBBING LOVING IT SO MUCH

The Parent Trap 1998 rewatch - Still golden fav, one of my guiltiest pleasures

Sous la Seine / Under Paris - Love a good shark movie but thought this was mediocre smh. the ending was cool tho hahaha

🎶 3 songs I discovered recently and love:

Peggy - FEMININE RAGE

Spencer Sutherland - Alive

HOYO-MIX - Interstellar Journey

💘 Newest fav ships: Falin x Marcille , Chilchuck x Senshi, and Laios x Kabru all from Dungeon Meshi!!!

📺 Currently watching: The Apothecary Diaries, Wind Breaker, House of the Dragon, Pokemon Johto Journeys (rewatch), FMA Brotherhood (rewatch), Mushoku Tensei S2 (might drop it)

📖 Currently reading: Dungeon Meshi manga, Define the Relationship manhwa, XXX Buddy manhwa (both manhwas on hold but I'll continue reading soon!)

🎮 Currently Playing: Fortnite, Minecraft, Genshin Impact (haven't played since Cyno story quest tho), Zelda Tears of the Kingdom (on hold), Yakuza 0, Zelda Skyward Sword, Hogwarts Legacy, note: I kinda dropped all mobile games but I'm really considering starting love & deepspace again hmmm.

😍 Currently looking forward to: New Fortnite update, Genshin Natlan update (even though I have to catch up on the previous ones lol), the new Deadpool movie, Blue Lock movie (seeing it this week!)

✅ Recently finished: Kaiju No. 8 (anime), other than that no books, manga, games or shows. All still in progress lol.

💌 Something to Share: I'm glad to see people are enjoying the x reader drabbles and I'm motivated to work on them faster when I can! Thanks everyone for your patience.. T-T

[landinrris]

You got me interested on the "Lando/Martin/Carlos fic" cause iits sound really intriguing

lol this is the one that is the guiltiest of guilty pleasures that will probably appeal to like three (3) people. But they do say write for yourself so... 🤷‍♀️

The idea behind this one involves Lando being glued to Carlos' side on race weekends and Martin's during off-weeks. Lando’s in a casual and open thing with Carlos (in which Carlos also has his girlfriends still), and in comes an escalated relationship with Martin. The best part of the arrangement is that it genuinely works because Lando doesn't want to choose and no one makes him. And then it escalates, naturally. The idea is to have deep feelings, a bit of Carlos assessing his own thoughts and feelings about himself, etc. Jury is still out on whether or not it actually ends in a throuple. I'd have to develop a more detailed outline first 😅

A little snippet from when Lando wins Miami (because it's the first scene I have that has all three of them more or less in it):

Ask me about my wips!

----

Lando loses it when he and Carlos finally get back to his hotel room later. After the celebratory dinner and parties with his team, after he’s thoroughly tired himself out. 

They stumble back into their hotel room, the sky outside long darkened and on the way to getting lighter. He has too many different smells in his nose— champagne, perfume, cologne, sweat— yet the smell of everything mixed together when it’s rolling off Carlos as Lando’s pulled into a tight hug is infinitely more bearable and desirable. 

Lando tucks his head into Carlos’ shoulder and wraps his arms around his back to hold on as tightly as he can. The hours separating them from the last time they were able to do this are too many. They should have been able to do this the entire time they were out.

“God, I am so proud of you,” Carlos whispers into the side of his head. The words are all it takes for Lando to lose it.

He’d managed to keep himself together in the immediate aftermath in front of the cameras— had become a bit choked up talking to his parents and grandmother— but that was it. The weight is off his shoulders, sure, but until this moment, Lando’s just felt a bit empty.

But Carlos is here, holding him close and whispering praise, and Lando feels relief. Relief that it’s all been worth it to this point. His belief and trust haven’t been misplaced. The moment the team gives him a car capable of more, he gets what it’s capable of out of it. 

The sob that hiccups from his chest only makes Carlos hold him tighter.

“Hey, I’ve got you, you’re okay.” So naturally, Lando only cries harder. One of Carlos’ hands rubs reassuringly up and down Lando’s back. It’s silly to cry so long after the fact— he should’ve done this in parc fermé or something, not after all the celebrations. But Carlos doesn’t tease him for it. Instead, he shuffles them over in front of the bed and sinks down to the floor.

It’s exactly what Lando needs, a firm and solid surface beneath him to contrast the way Carlos pulls him back in and arranges them so Lando’s legs are settled sideways over Carlos’ lap. He pulls Lando closer, lets him lay his head against his shoulder, and release as much emotion as possible.

“It didn’t hit me in Silverstone until the next day,” Carlos admits. “After I talked to my dad for the second time, and I realized I am a race winner. I think everyone has a bit of a delayed reaction.”

Lando chokes out a weak laugh. “Would’ve preferred it to wait until tomorrow, that way I can enjoy the night in peace.”

Carlos just tsks. “No, because this is how you know it’s real, that it’s setting in, and the next race you start, you are going to be starting it as a race winner.” He says it with so much conviction Lando feels silly for ever thinking anything different. “I called it from the car, you know.”

The statement catches Lando off guard enough that he lifts his head from Carlos’ shoulder to look at him properly. “What?”

“When the safety car came out and Ricky confirmed you would be coming back out in front. I knew you were going to him it. You were flying.”

The earnestness in Carlos’ voice and in his eyes makes Lando want to cry again. Sure, he knew he and his team thought it was well within grasp as soon as the safety car came out— even more so when it caught Max instead of him— but to hear that Carlos also thought so? It doesn’t do anything good to his mind.

His mind reels with how to respond. Thank you is too inadequate. He’s also much too weepy to think about kissing him. Not right now. Before he can figure out what to say though, his phone rings. He doesn’t remember when he pulled his phone off silent, but the noise, a shrill default iPhone tone, knocks Lando sufficiently out of his head enough to pull it out of his back pocket to see who’s calling.

Somewhat surprisingly, it’s Martin. God, Lando doesn’t even know what time it is here let alone what time it is in Amsterdam. He talked to Martin earlier for a few minutes— promised they’d talk more a little later. This must be a little later.

Lando thinks about silencing it though because he’s with Carlos, after all. They were having a moment. But Carlos cranes his head to look down at Lando’s screen, sees the candid photo Lando took on Martin’s boat in Amsterdam as his contact photo, and tells him to answer it.

“But I’m with you right now.”

“Answer it, Lando.”

So, Lando answers the phone just before it transfers over to his voicemail and gives a less than stellar, “Hello?” in greeting.

Martin gives a quieter version of the drawn-out “Landoooo,” than he did earlier. It’s very possible this is the first thing Martin’s doing after waking up. He might still be in bed. The thought warms Lando’s chest even more.

Lando must make some kind of distressing noise back because Martin pivots almost immediately. “Lando, what’s wrong?”

Martin has always been able to clock the slightest mood shift in him— he and Carlos both— but today is not one of those days where he can brush it off. Lando breathes in shakily and sniffles. “Nothing—”

“Lando—”

“Nothing, honestly. All the emotions are just catching up with me a bit. Carlos said it’s normal. God knows I need to sleep.”

“Lando,” it’s softer this time, like he’s aching that he’s not there with Lando to make sure he’s okay. Maybe Lando is as well, as much as he loves that Carlos was by his side all evening. To have them both with him all night on top of the win? Lando’s sure there would’ve been some news the following day. “Is Carlos there with you right now?”

“Mmm yeah. We just got back to the room a little while ago. Probably sleep for a few hours before we have to get to the airport.” Carlos tightens his grip on Lando in response, Lando letting him take more of his weight in turn.

“Put the phone on speaker for a sec.”

Lando can’t imagine what Martin has to say to Carlos right now of all times. Surely anything regarding Lando’s well-being wouldn’t be taken well even if Carlos is slowly coming around to enjoy the idea of Martin being physically around more and more. Lando knows how much of a mess Carlos’ head still is. But Lando puts him on speaker anyway. “Okay, you’re on.”

“Tough break today, mate,” Martin says. “You probably could have been up there on the podium otherwise.”

Carlos sighs. “Yeah, it was unfortunate, no? Lando’s little teammate getting in the way.” He nudges Lando in jest, and Lando can’t help but snort in response.

“Naturally. Listen, I’m glad you’re there. I used to see Max after his first several wins. Takes a bit before you learn to manage things as I’m sure you know.”

“Mmm, that it does. I appreciate your thoughts. I could have had a much worse race though and would still be here. You never forget your first.”

“I’m sure. I’ll leave you two alone for now. I’ll talk to you soon, Lan, and we’ll talk plans?” Right, plans for Martin’s birthday and then the week off they both have following it. Martin had briefly suggested a house with a view off a cliff in California since he’ll already be in Las Vegas, but they’ve not talked specifics.

“Yeah, talk soon.” The beeps of a disconnected call ring through the room, and Carlos sighs.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Hurricanes / Hummingbirds: X

Series Synopsis: As the years go by, you find that it is incredibly difficult to survive wars and fight storms, especially when the only thing you have by way of a cursed technique is the blessing of a tiny bird.

Chapter Synopsis: Kashimo takes you to meet a person that might be able to help you in your battle against Ten.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x Female Reader; slight Kento Nanami x Female Reader; slight Satoru Gojo × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.4k

Content Warnings: swearing, enemies/rivals to lovers, character death, canon-typical violence, angst, gore, original characters included

A/N: kashimo stans how are we doing...😔

You and Kashimo were exact opposites. He was the god of lightning. You were blessed by the hummingbird. There was no universe in which you and he could coexist. Perhaps this was where his drive came from, his natural determination to see the end of your existence: you were not meant to live at the same time. There could only be one of you, and yet for so many years it had been both of you, taking up space and jousting for dominance over a sky that hated you both equally.

The truth — and this was a secret that you had never told anyone — was that you wanted to fight him as badly as he wanted to fight you. It was the most thrilling, illicit thing you could imagine, your guiltiest pleasure, picturing a battle that you fought for no other reason than because you wanted to, a battle that you might not win, one where your life was truly on the line instead of a routine exorcism that meant nothing in the long run. It would be a break from the monotony of your life, and an escape from the crushing obligation of having to defeat Ten in exchange for the power the hummingbird had lent you. Maybe that was what you fantasized about the most; not the clash itself but the freedom that it would bring you.

At night, you had been dreaming of him. Hisashi could never know this, but ever since you had intruded upon Ten’s domain, your nightmares about your parents had vanished. Now, it was Kashimo you saw. The visions varied: sometimes, your sword would drive into his heart, his hot blood spurting out and covering you in red, and on other nights, his lightning would dance through your veins until you blacked out from the pain, the most sensation you had ever felt in your life. The commonality between the dreams was him, always him, only him. You could not close your eyes without seeing his cold expression, and after two weeks, you resolved to seek him out once more and demand him to leave your mind.

There were dark shadows under his eyes when you happened upon him, bruises like roses blooming on the face of the invincible man. Who could’ve caused such wounds? Was it your imagination, or had he been easier to find this time? As if he knew what you must be thinking, his fingers flitted to his face, tracing the outline of the purpling.

“I’ve come to see you,” you said finally, when it became clear that he was not going to say anything. He dug his nails into his skin, though lightly, not hard enough to draw blood.

“Have you, now?” he said. “I know you have not defeated Ten yet, so there must be some other motivation for you to be here. Is it to torture me?”

“It seems there is no need for my intervention in that regard,” you said. “Seeing as someone else has beat me to it.”

He raised his eyebrows, his hands falling to his sides again, his shoulders slumping. You had never seen him in such a way, his weapon-like body faded into a shadowed copy of itself, frail and trembling and easily breakable.

“No one else could ever beat you to it,” he said. “No one else could ever beat me.”

“But I have not even seen you in so long,” you said. “How, then, can you put this recent turn of events upon me?”

“I am sick,” he said.

“Is it a fever?” you said.

“No,” he said.

“Your stomach?” you said again, narrowing your eyes, trying to discern what ailment he had.

“It is not that,” he said.

“Then a cough, perhaps?” you said.

“It is you,” he said.

“I am no disease,” you said.

“You might as well be,” he said icily. “I find no joy in anything but the thought of killing you. I want it more than I have ever wanted anything in my life. But — but what if it is not me? I cannot stop thinking about it. What if someone else does it first?”

He paused, looked up at the sky. The clouds covered the stars, and you frowned slightly. Perhaps it was strange, but you found you missed them. It was hard to believe that they were there when you could not so much as see them.

“I don’t want that,” he said. “I don’t want another person to be the one that gets that right. It should only be me.”

“No one will get that right,” you said carefully. “It will not be you, nor Ten, nor anyone else.”

He reached out for you, and to your surprise, you let him. His grip was strong enough to crush a weaker person’s wrists, but it did nothing to yours, despite his best efforts. You gazed at him steadily, waiting for him to speak.

“Draw your sword,” he said. “Please, draw your sword.”

“No,” you said.

“Kill me,” he insisted. “If I cannot kill you, then I want you to kill me. I want to know what it’s like to triumph — but if I cannot have that, then at least once I would like to lose.”

“I dream about it sometimes,” you said, then paused. “No. All of the time. I promise — I promise that in the end it will be us two. You will have to wait until such a time comes to pass, however.”

“Ten,” he said, dropping your wrists and exhaling. This time when he looked up at the sky you understood what he meant by it.

“I have challenged him,” you said. “It will not be long. Even now I can feel it, feel his restlessness, how he wonders if I will make good on my promise and kill him or not. He will come for me soon.”

“Then you will need a better weapon than that sword of yours,” he said.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“That Gojo clan trash,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “It’d snap in an instant if you put any actual amount of cursed energy into it. Most cursed tools aren’t strong enough to withstand the amount of power needed for sorcerers like us to go all out, the way you indubitably would need to against Ten. You should forge your own sword; it’s what I did with my staff to ensure that it could handle my lightning.”

“I haven’t the faintest clue how to forge a sword,” you said. The sword you currently used was one that Hisashi had gifted you, a plain, workmanlike tool that did what you needed it to do. Sometimes you dreamt of a blade more suited to you, one that shone with the power of the hummingbird, but for your current purposes, Hisashi’s sword served well enough.

“You needn’t forge it yourself,” he said. “Your purpose is to imbue your cursed technique into it as it is created.”

“You act like such things are commonplace. The forgers of cursed weapons have never been ubiquitous, and in recent times have grown rarer than ever — largely in part to people like you,” you said, to which Kashimo only smiled slightly.

“I suppose you believe the rumor that I murdered the man who made my staff so that no one could ever have a weapon equal to mine,” he said.

“It wouldn’t be out of character for you to do such a thing,” you said.

“Perhaps, but in truth I did not,” he said. “I left him alive in case I ever needed him again. What good fortune that I did, as that hour has finally come.”

“You don’t need him,” you pointed out. He actually laughed.

“Perhaps I don’t,” he said. “However, don’t you?”

“I suppose that is the case. How long will it take?” you said.

“Maybe months. Maybe Ten will not be patient for that long,” he said. “You ought to begin as soon as possible, lest you keep your lord waiting.”

“He is not my lord,” you said. “He is my parent’s killer. He is the one I was born to defeat.”

“Yet he rules over your life regardless, and so cannot be called anything but,” Kashimo said. It was that same wry humor that he employed whenever speaking of yours and Ten's eventual clash, that half-disdain, half-envy, as if he found your devotion ridiculous and, at the same time, wished you were that devoted to him instead.

“He is the lord of the sky,” you said. “If anything, he is your lord, o god of lightning.”

Kashimo’s face grew strangely pale, as if you had something particularly blasphemous, something that offended his sensibilities to the max. Well, to be fair, you certainly had — he was the independent deity who hated to think of anyone as above him, and yet here you were implying that he was nothing more than a pawn in Ten’s game.

“Never say such a thing again,” he said. “No matter who they are, I will never fall to my knees for another person.”

“Hm,” you said. “Maybe that’s true. Though it doesn’t matter; I know you hardly even believe in Ten. How could you kneel to something that does not exist?”

Kashimo frowned. “Of course I do not believe in him. But you do.”

“And so?” you said. He extended his hand, palm facing the moon. You stared at it for a moment before setting your own atop his, suppressing a flinch when sparks pinpricked your skin.

“And so he must definitely exist. Somewhere, somehow, he is real, or I will make him be so. This waiting, this torture you force upon me…if Ten does not exist, then it isn’t worth it. Then this entire charade is worthless on your part. Therefore, I have to have faith that he is an actual being,” he said. “Because you are many things, Y/N L/N, but I find that the one thing I cannot think of you is worthless.”

Then his fingers closed over yours and he took off at an impossible speed, one you could only hope to match with the Hummingbird’s Blessing active. But you did not even need to run, his hurtling momentum carrying you along behind him effortlessly, so that your feet were pushing at air instead of striking against the ground.

Almost as soon as it had begun, the breathless flight was over, Kashimo skidding to a stop in front of a large camphor tree. You slammed into his broad back, which he took no heed of, his glittering eyes trained on the camphor’s boughs, mouth tugging upwards into a smile.

“You can come out now,” he said. “I haven’t come to kill you. In fact, I’ve brought someone I need you to help.”

It was the kindest you’d ever heard him say anything — a request, not a demand. There was a shuffling sound and then a ripple in the air in front of us before a sharply-dressed, dark-haired man blinked into existence, scowling at Kashimo, who fairly beamed at him.

“Hajime Kashimo,” the man said. “To what do I owe the honor of the so-proclaimed god of lightning paying a visit to my humble abode?”

“I told you already. I have someone who needs your help,” he said.

“And since when has it been in your nature to try and help others?” the man said, arching a neat brow at Kashimo.

“It’s self-serving either way,” you interjected. “He only wants me to have a better weapon so that I may defeat Ten and then fight him. Don’t think that altruism is a virtue he’s suddenly gained.”

“Who might you be?” he said before pausing. “No, wait. If Hajime wants to fight you, then there’s only one person you can be: the Hummingbird.”

“At least, I am blessed by such a creature,” you said, as graciously as you could.

“Of course,” he said. “Y/N L/N. The sorcerer who’s received the Hummingbird’s Blessing. Ah, forgive me for my lack of manners; my name is Daisuke Hinode.”

“Daisuke Hinode!” you repeated in surprise, for the name was one you recognized. “You don’t mean to say you’re —”

“Yes,” he said, interrupting me before you could finish. “That Daisuke Hinode.”

Daisuke Hinode was a man that had been erased from the history books, or at least Kichiro Kamo had been doing his very best to ensure that that was the case. His sly technique and deadly weapons made him Kichiro’s bitterest rival, an enmity only matched by the one Kashimo held for you. But unlike you and Kashimo, there was no equality between Kichiro and Daisuke; in fact, in any match the two had, Daisuke would come out the winner. So, instead, Kichiro endeavored to destroy Daisuke in another way, the way that really mattered: from the memories of posterity.

How sad it was, you thought to yourself as you scrutinized Daisuke — who you found to have a sort of unassuming charm about him — that in a few decades, he would be forgotten completely. Would he ever have descendants? Would there ever be anyone else who carried on his name? And what of his technique, that secretive, elusive thing? Would it be lost to the ages?

“I hid him,” Kashimo said proudly. He was strange around Daisuke. Gentler. As if Daisuke was someone he could genuinely consider a friend instead of just another person he had to fight.

“He did not,” Daisuke said. “I hid myself with my technique. He just suggested a place that would work the best. Will you tell Kichiro Kamo?”

“I shan’t,” you said. “Not if you can help me the way Kashimo is convinced you can.”

Daisuke hummed. “I have no reason to trust you, you know.”

“Of course not,” you agreed readily, though you were altogether put out by the development. Your association with the Big Three Sorcerer Families was generally helpful due to the respect the clans commanded, but in times like this, it was actually a hindrance.

“Bar one,” he continued. “If Hajime brought you here…”

Kashimo himself shrugged. “Her trustworthiness was of little concern to me when I did so. She needs a sword, Daisuke.”

“A hummingbird’s sword,” Daisuke said. “I wonder what such a weapon could be called. It would be such a magnificent thing…and so I demand payment.”

“Payment!” you said. Kashimo snickered.

“Of course you do,” he said. “How do you aim to collect, Daisuke?”

“It is twofold,” Daisuke said, holding up two fingers. You frowned, wondering what absurd requests he would make of you.

“Go on,” you said warily.

“There is a girl,” he said. “The daughter of a prostitute and a European tradesman. We were friends in our youth, and I wish — I wish to meet her again. If you can find that girl and bring her to me, then I will consider the first request fulfilled.”

“Very well,” you said, though in truth such bastards were not exactly a rarity, and there was no guarantee that the girl whom Daisuke spoke of even remembered him. “And the second?”

“Aid Kichiro in his quest,” he said. “Erase me from the pages of history. Make it so that Hinode is a name no one knows of; I wish to vanish as verily as if I had used my technique.”

“Why is that?” you said. “Isn’t the aim of every man to be remembered?”

“Being remembered and being loved are not the same, Y/N L/N,” he said. “I would take the latter over the former any day. If Kichiro cannot wipe all evidence of my existence, he will surely slander me in every story that is told. I wish to spare my descendants the humiliation that bearing my name will hold if such an event is to occur, and so I repeat: make it so that I disappear, so that there was never a man named Daisuke Hinode. If you can do that, then I will give you a sword that can shatter the heavens.”

“Fine,” you said. “I will do my best.”

“I will help,” Kashimo said imperiously.

“What help would you be?” you said, raising a critical eyebrow at the warlike man, who you had never known to offer help to anyone. He shrugged as if it was something he did everyday, like he was a regular patron of the needy.

“Do you know the girl Daisuke speaks of?” he said. You scowled, because of course you did not, so you found that it was altogether rude of Kashimo to tease you for it.

“No,” you said.

“I do,” he said. “When we were young, the three of us…spent some time together.”

You realized you knew frighteningly little about him. You supposed he was aware of that, which was why he was dangling the information in front of you, frustratingly out of your grasp but close enough that you kept reaching for it like a fool.

“Well, won’t Daisuke tell me who she is?” you said.

“No, he wouldn’t,” Kashimo said. “What sort of payment would it be if there is no difficulty to it? And you have been blessed by the Hummingbird, so if you know her identity, it would be so easy for you to find her that Daisuke could never feel sufficiently reimbursed.”

“Wouldn’t it be the same if you tell me who she is?” you pointed out.

“As if I would just tell you!” Kashimo said, like that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. You pouted, though it was a childish gesture. You had been hoping he would just tell you who she was, so that you could get it out of the way, obtain your sword, and then get your fight with Ten over and done with.

“You’re right,” Daisuke said. “I was actually planning on telling her, but if she is as strong as the rumors say, then it wouldn’t make sense. Surely she can figure it out with her supposed power!”

“Kashimo,” you hissed. “If I did not know that threatening to murder you would only excite you further, I would do so right now.”

“I promise I won’t even try to fight you until Daisuke has forged your sword,” he said, every word sparkling with the utmost of sincerity, ignoring your threat completely. You snorted.

“We already agreed that we would not fight until I defeat Ten, or have you forgotten already?” you said. He opened his mouth and then closed it, repeating the process a few times before exhaling in defeat.

“I suppose that that’s true,” he said.

“So it’s not some great concession the way you’re making it out to be,” you said. “In fact, this is all for your benefit. The sooner I can get my sword and defeat Ten, the sooner I can fight you. Don’t act as if you’re going out of your way to aid me.”

You had figured out during the course of the conversation Kashimo’s true motives in wanting to help you find the woman. There was no affection nor empathy in it; it was the same reason he had taken you to meet Daisuke in the first place. He wanted to fight you. He would do anything to fight you. But before you would fight him, you had to defeat Ten, which meant that for the moment, you both were temporarily aligned in your goals.

The only thing that you couldn’t understand was why he wouldn’t tell you who the girl was, but you decided to attribute this to a mischievous streak you had not known about until now.

“Whether or not it’s a concession on my part, the fact remains that you need my help if you want a sword from Daisuke. Unless you feel confident about your current weapon of choice?” he said, nodding at the sheathed sword which hung from your hip.

“Fine,” you said, though you were loath to do so and knew Hisashi, if he ever heard of it, would be furious. “Then we shall help each other.”

“How will you help me?” he said.

“I will forge the sword,” you said. “And I will defeat Ten. Then, I will defeat you.”

“You are a vain woman, to think yourself capable of defeating our very own god of lightning,” Daisuke said, before squinting and looking at you. “Well. Maybe not. I wish you luck, Hummingbird.”

With that, he turned and walked into a ripple, which formed in the air like it was fabric. In an instant, he was gone, a phantom that left behind nothing but a soft wind whistling through the branches of the camphor tree.

It took an entire day for you to gather the courage to tell Hisashi your plans. Even then, it was a doctored version, with Kashimo’s and Daisuke’s involvements edited entirely out of your recounting.

You pretended like the woman was someone who knew a sword forger — naturally, this was true, but that was not exactly why you were seeking her out — and could point you in their direction so that you could have a suitable cursed tool to face off against Ten. You thought that he might be averse to it and ask you to instead continue using his sword, but he did no such thing. He only nodded and agreed that it would be best for you to have something that you could use to channel your cursed technique, and that was the end of it.

“I am surprised the white-haired one did not come with you,” Kashimo observed when you reined your horse to a stop by where he leaned against a fencepost. You bristled at the insult to Hisashi, though it was barely even an insult.

“He would’ve,” you said. “If I had asked. He would go anywhere if I asked.”

Kashimo considered this before untying his own horse and swinging atop its back, kicking it forward and gesturing for you to follow him. You did so reluctantly, though every step the mare took away from your home with Hisashi felt like a betrayal to the man you were meant to marry.

“He wants your technique,” he said.

“His father coveted it, yes,” you said. You knew the reason why you had been engaged to Hisashi: the power of the Hummingbird, which the Gojo clan believed could smooth over the Six Eyes’ disappearance in recent years.

“How long have you known him?” Kashimo said. It was idle small talk, but there was a deeper purpose. In asking these questions, he was learning you in a way that you could never learn him. Perhaps it should’ve been a frightening proposition, the thought of Kashimo knowing you so intrinsically, but you found it to be more soothing than anything.

“Since I was a child,” you said. “Very young. I was promised to him the night that my parents were killed, right before the man with the stitch-scarred forehead came to meet me.”

For a little girl, the kind prone to romantic flights of fancy, a boy such as Hisashi Gojo was akin to a dream come true. The heir to a clan and possessing lovely, fine features, you had believed him to be a hero come to sweep you off of your feet.

Of course, such heroes did not exist, and so the early years of your engagement were devoid of much happiness. Hisashi did not hate you, but neither did he love you; he was a boy three years your elder, and so for the most part he thought of you as a child come to bother him, following behind him when he would rather be playing with Kichiro and Naoki.

When you two grew to be teenagers, he began to tease you incessantly, and so the roles were reversed in that you were the one frequently irritated by his presence. Naturally you did not realize that he was doing this because he had, in some way, grown to be fond of you, but that was the truth of it. He was becoming a man, and you a woman, and unlike you he was at the same time growing aware of this development. You believe it made him uncomfortable, the entire concept of the girl he had once known wearing the pretty face of an unrecognizable stranger, and so he lashed out at you in the only way he knew how.

He was never cruel. Hisashi at his heart has always been gentle, and even at his worst he didn’t know how to hurt you. You always thought his father might detest him for it, at least a little, that in such a violent existence he was still kind, but even if that was the case, it did not stop him from his softness. Maybe it was his own form of rebellion against the world.

You kissed Hisashi for the first time when you were —

“Alright, that’s enough,” Kashimo said. You snickered at his disgruntled expression, which he took no heed of. “I don’t need to hear about that part.”

“You asked,” you said.

“I distinctly did not,” he said haughtily. “It was a question that did not necessitate an entire story being told to explain its answer.”

“What else do we fill the time with?” you said. “Unless you’d like to tell me about your life.”

“No,” he said. An awkward silence stretched over the two of you. You gave Kashimo a telling look, and he frowned. “Fine. Tell me another story from your life. But — but not one with Hisashi Gojo in it. I care little for him and his gentleness.”

“Certainly, you only respect strength, so the value of a kind person would be lost on you,” you said. “Alright, what if I tell you about the man with the stitches on his forehead?”

Kashimo hummed contemplatively. “Fine.”

The night your parents died was the same night you met that man, the one who would define your existence forevermore. He had no great demands; indeed, he was overly generous to the point of suspicion. When you asked him the reason for his kindness, he told you that it was because your father had offered him something in return, made a Binding Vow to ensure your protection. And what authority did you have to question him? You were alone. Your parents had left you and you did not know where they had gone or why they had done it.

He was a handsome person, with an angular face and dark hair tied neatly back, as was customary for the time. The single blemish on what was an otherwise artistically perfect image was the row of stitches engraved into his forehead, standing out angry and red against the pale skin. You remembered this the best about him; even so many years later, when the shade of his eyes and the pursing of his lips had faded into the recesses of your memory, the stitches stood out as clearly as they had on the day you had met him.

That man — and he refused to tell you his name, claimed ‘names had power for creatures such as hummingbirds’ — was the one who gave you the book Tales of the Hummingbird. He also told you what it meant for you to be blessed in the way that you were.

The eternal conflict with the lord of the sky. He was the one who told you about it, who told you about Ten. Perhaps if it had not been for him, you never would’ve known that you had to fight that great being. Well, that’s likely not true; if you were born to do it, then you would’ve found out eventually regardless. The man only sped along the process, made it so that you knew your life’s purpose from the moment you could think deeply enough about your existence to begin wondering what it might be.

You asked him what your father’s Binding Vow had been, but he never told you. He only patted his lap, bade you to sit upon it and then stroked your hair as he spoke. You remembered that there was a warmth lacking from the gesture, though this could be put down to your fascination with the grotesque appearance of his brow leading to a lack of appreciation for the comfort you were sure he was trying to provide you.

He told you that the day would come when you, too, would make a Binding Vow with him. You said you would not, that you were not in the business of making Binding Vows with just about anyone, but he only chuckled and told you that things would change in the future and one day you’d beg him to do it, beg him to give you the chance to get what you most terribly wanted.

Even now you didn’t understand what he meant by that — after all, how could a Binding Vow with a mere man grant your deepest wishes? The only theory you had ever come up with was that somehow the nature of his technique was as such, but it felt a flimsy explanation.

When you asked Hisashi and Kichiro and even Naoki if they knew the man of whom you spoke, they shook their heads and told you that they had never seen a person like that. So he remained a mystery, one you never again encountered but thought of frequently.

“That was a little anticlimactic,” Kashimo said.

“Whatever do you mean?” you said. He shrugged, reaching up to hold a tree branch out of his way and then letting go so that it sprung back and would’ve slammed into your face if you had not ducked in time.

“So a man made a vow with your father and gave you a book. I don’t understand why you’re so impressed by that. If I give you a book, will you think of me frequently?” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“No,” you said. “And you cannot make a vow with my father, as he is dead, so think of some other way to occupy my mind.”

“Really, though, he was probably just some relative of yours or another that took the chance to mold you into the perfect, powerful little sorcerer that would do as he asked in the wake of your parents’ death. He was probably lying about all of it,” Kashimo, ever the practical one, said. You let out a heavy exhale.

“It’s possible. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that there was something odd about the entire situation,” you said. “After all, why did he have that book? Until that point, it was not even certain if I had a cursed technique or not.”

“If you look for fantastical explanations, then they will manifest. Conversely, if you look for the reasonable methods, then they will surely make themselves apparent,” he said.

“That’s true,” you said hesitantly. Kashimo blew out a huff of air.

“You tell boring stories. I suppose that’s that, then; I’ll have to tell you one about myself,” he said.

“Will you, now? Which one?” you said. There was so little you knew about Kashimo that you could not help how his statement piqued your interest. He grinned, a smug, self-satisfied expression that was so at home on his face it was a wonder he did not wear it more often.

“I’m sure there is much you’d like to know, and before I kill you, I will tell you it all and tell you it well, but in the meantime, we should begin with a more innocuous story,” he began.

“Get to the point, Kashimo,” you said. “What are you going to tell me?”

“You won’t indulge my theatrical desires when I am going so far out of my way to help you? Cruel woman that you are, I guess it isn’t too much out of character for you to do such a thing,” he said.

“As I said earlier, you are not going out of your way. You all but forced your way into helping me, when I would’ve been able to find this woman perfectly easily without your interference and your egging on of Daisuke,” you said.

“Well, you wouldn’t have even found Daisuke without me…but that’s beside the point!” He hastily cut himself off when he saw you open your mouth to argue. “The story I’m going to tell you is actually related to both the woman and Daisuke. In fact, it is the story of my childhood and how it is that an orphan, one who was born with nothing to his name, came to be known as the god of lightning, making up for his lack of blessings by becoming a deity in his own right.”

[woofgang69]

friday and tomorrow for the fic writing questions!

💕thank you darcy!!💕

friday: most self-indulgent fic you have ever posted? almost all my fics are incredibly self-indulgent 😂 but i have to say the most 'this fic is for me and me only' one i've written is But first, let me take a selfie which is a Kisame/Ino fic i wrote for last year's rarepair week. it's just two of my favorite characters smashed together for a song fic for one of my guiltiest guilty pleasure songs 😂 and it gave me the chance to slip in some of my other favorite rarepairs like SaiHaku and JuugoHina

tomorrow: favourite ways to write fluff? ohhh i love writing fluff!! i think my favorite way is using prompts people give me because i see seeing and writing other people's favorite fluff tropes

[bootlickerhawks]

Name:

Cami

First fandom you became a part of?

Fairy Tail is the first fandom I actively sought fanfic/fanart for but the first fandom I actually participated in was BNHA

What was the first fandom you joined?

Depends on how you define "join" but I guess Fairy Tail, D.Gray-Man, Fate/Stay Night and Naruto would be my firsts. oh wait I forgot Hetalia

How old were you?

12-13???

Latest fandom you became a part of?

uuuuuuuuh good question?

A fandom you haven't joined but like to creep on?

Voltron. Most hilarious dumpster fire to experience at a distance. Sometimes I miss hearing the screams of the deranged fans *wipes tear*

Your favorite fandom?

Sasuhina fandom in 2013-15. Truly the funniest and chillest fandom experience I ever had.

The show that gives you the most brainrot?

Usually this rotates pretty frequently but somehow HxH (chimera ant arc to be more specific) still has me in a choke hold a year after watching it. That show literally changed my brain chemistry 😩

The fictional couple that gives you the most brainrot?

Again, this is a category that rotates very frequently. Currently it's my OC ship from Skyrim.

Guilty pleasure fictional couple?

All of my ships I guess Jonadio is my guiltiest pleasure ship

Guilty pleasure show?

Is Skyrim an outdated game with shallow mechanics and half baked plotlines? YEAH! But modding keeps it fresh, especially custom followers. Bless my funky virtual companions they carry the game on their backs <3

And finally, something that made you happy this week?

Might finally get a job yayyyyyy! and I'm one step closer to (probably) getting a horse 🥳

I tag whoever wants to join in ✌️

fandom tag game!

thank you so much for tagging me, @lupeloto!!

name: aria

first fandom you became a part of? harry potter… my obsession was honestly really embarrassing😭

what was the first tv show fandom you joined? the office

how old were you? 8 or 9 i think?? i still love it

latest tv/movie fandom you became a part of? the bear, but i just started the walking dead (like actually started it, before i had just watched some episodes) however i don’t think i could be considered as in the fandom yet

a tv/movie fandom you haven't joined but like to creep on? gilmore girls, idk why i haven’t watched it yet

your favorite fandom? shameless:)

the tv show that gives you the most brainrot? shameless!!

the fictional couple that gives you the most brainrot? definitely gallavich, but i also love sebbie and sydcarmy just not on the same level as gallavich

guilty pleasure fictional couple? jimmy-steve and fiona, definitely- but also lip and mandy (although i hate them half of the time)

guilty pleasure tv show? nailed it??? idk honestly

and finally, something that made you happy this week? i got to babysit my little cousin (he’s 5 months old!)

tagging: @bees-flowers @carlgallagerswife @jademickian @deedala @milkmaidovich @stocious @swiftfootedachilles @too-schoolforcool @dicktozier

[hold-him-down]

Leo - 1, 2, 4, 5

this ask thing

Their physical weak spots

his sexy time weak spot is his stomach. 

he has a really difficult time being touched anywhere he can’t see, but most specifically the back of his neck. an overt physical response has been trained out of him, but generally, when someone grabs/touches the back of his neck, he full panics inside. luke isn’t super aware of it yet, but tries not to catch leo by surprise any time he touches him, so it hasn’t been a huge issue. when luke is hugging him, leo has found some surprising comfort in it, but still has to resist the urge to tense/cringe.

Their emotional/moral weak spots

emotional: self sacrificial, self degrading, persistently finds fault in himself where there’s no rational fault (these are all just canon sorry)

moral: come ON you know i’m not going to headcanon ‘moral weak spots’ for this guy that’s not in my vocabulary he’s a moral superstar

Best places to kiss on their body

see above :)

down the line, he also really comes to enjoy when his neck is kissed, when it’s within a well-established and trusting relationship.

Guilty pleasures

early leo has approximately zero pleasures, guilty or no. he’d argue maybe daydreaming about what it would be like for him to easily and consistently make luke happy would be his guiltiest pleasure, sometimes letting himself think about making luke so happy that he keeps him around for a few years; then he realizes how unlikely this is because he sucks at making luke happy and forces himself back to the present.

at some point along the way, at the beach, luke convinces leo to eat an ice cream cone with him and leo admits that it was his favorite indulgence pre-system. a tub of ice cream becomes a permanent fixture in luke’s freezer from that exact day onward. it takes a while, but with persistent nudging, leo develops a habit of sometimes ‘rewarding’ himself for things. sometimes, he sneaks out in the middle of the night and eats a spoonful, not just because he knows how badly luke wants him to, but because he knows he had a good day or week. this goes on for a few months, until he becomes more comfortable just eating it because he wants it.

[luxekook]

𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥 | 𝘬𝘵𝘩

⇥ pairing: quadruplet!taehyung x reader

⇥ genre: crack, smut

⇥ summary: in which the reader lives next door to taehyung… and his three brothers. she doesn’t realize they’re quadruplets until it’s just a little too late.

⇥ word count: 7.5k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing/dirty talk, alcohol, general chaotic energy [as usual], one hard dom!taehyung and three soft dom!taehyungs, sub!reader, pet name: kitten, smut (breast worship, oral [f receiving], bondage, spanking, slight degrading name-calling during sex, mention of daddy kink, ownership kink, four taehyungs lovin’ on the **READER** [***NOT EACH OTHER***])

⇥ beta’d by: the lovely phia (@meowxyoong​) and the cutie ally (@ally-127), and read over by the iconic heath (@shadowsremedy)

The Kim Quadruplets:

Mic Drop!Tae as “V” Boy With Luv!Tae as “Vante” Pied Piper!Tae as “Hansung” ON!Tae as “Taehyung”

Of all the days to forget your umbrella, your brain just had to choose today. You cursed your faulty memory as you shuffled your drenched sneakers across the ‘Welcome’ mat of your apartment building. As someone who prided themselves on being prepared and dependable, you were thoroughly angry at yourself for dropping the ball. Lightning flashed through the windows of the lobby, but you barely flinched - already used to the noise after a lengthy walk home from work.

You worked part-time at a small indie coffee shop called ‘Grind On Me’, which was located halfway across town. The shop was owned by an eccentric middle-aged woman named Reese who still had not gotten over the tragic loss of Vine. The menu was full of references to the fallen application: “Oovoo Java”, “Coulda Dropped My Croissant”, “Avocado Toast, Thanks!”, and “Back At It Again With The Refill”.

The best part of your job was definitely fucking around with your co-workers Jess and Cal. Reese often scheduled the three of you together because your “combined chaotic energy” was “on-brand”. Basically, the three of you would spend your shifts roasting coffee and roasting each other, while Reese looked on like a proud mom. You loved it.

The rest of your time was filled with school. You were up to your neck in your studies; but, with just one semester left until graduation, you were more determined than ever to stick it out. As a literature major, you spent many hours hunched over your trusty MacBook, fingers flying across the keys. Creating new worlds and constructing well-rounded characters was intoxicating. Every new document was a chance to bring ideas to life, an opportunity to make someone laugh or cry, a possibility to both mend and break hearts.

But, your absolute guiltiest pleasure was writing romance - and not the lovey-dovey kind. No, you wrote the racy kind of romance: the heart-pounding smut, the kinky (well-written and well-researched) BDSM, the raunchiest threesomes. You always wondered what your professors would think if you submitted one of your erotic novels to be graded; but, for now, you settled for posting to your loyal audience on Tumblr and for fantasizing about someday fulfilling the filthy scenes you wrote about.

Your most recent fantasy was inspired by the rainfall. Kissing in the midst of a storm like people did in those cliché movies… fucking as the rain poured over you… hands sliding down your slippery skin…

“Woah.” Hands grabbed your hips, halting you from continuing to walk forward absentmindedly. You jumped, your mind jarred from your fantasy and back to reality.

“I am so sorry,” You breathed out, “My mind was somewhere else.”

“I’ll say,” The deepest and most divine voice you had ever heard sounded from the figure in front of you. You looked up, desperate to know the source of such a dulcet tone. You were not disappointed.

The boy was beautiful.

His skin was the color of warm honey, his dark eyes sparkled with bad intentions, his full lips curled into a sly grin. “I would pay good money to know what you were thinking about just now, kitten,” The boy’s grin widened, displaying a cute boxy smile that did nothing to take away from the implications of his words.

“I’m not your kitten,” You glared at the blonde boy in front of you, shoving aside both his hands and the traitorous warmth that bloomed inside you at the pet name. With those words, you sidestepped around him and trudged to go check your mail. Your heart flipped in your chest when you heard the soft pitter-patter of footsteps following close behind you.

“Ever heard of an umbrella, kitten?” You could hear his smile in his infuriating words, and you shot him a glare.

“Yes, actually. Have you ever heard of manners?” You bit out, punching in the key code to your small mailbox.

The boy’s laugh sent a shiver down your spine that you tried to rationalize as a chill. God, he was maddeningly handsome. You grabbed the small bunch of letters shoved in your mailbox and were so ready to hightail it out of there, when he grabbed your wrist.

The sight of his long fingers wrapped around your wrist made your mind flash to scenes of him holding your wrists above your head as he thrusts, hips swiveling and pounding into you… him holding your wrists behind your back as he kneels in front of you, tongue deep in your—

“Kitten.” Your attention snapped back to him, your eyes wide and your cheeks flushed. Fuck, you really needed to shut your inner ho of a writer off sometimes…

He winked, “Next time you’re going to have to share what’s going on in that head of yours. I’ll be seeing you around, neighbor.”

With those parting words, he sauntered out of the mailroom, flipping the hood of his grey sweatshirt up over his wavy blonde strands as he tugged his dark bomber jacket closer around him.

Neighbor?

You were so fucked.

A few days later, you still had not forgotten your blonde self-proclaimed neighbor, no matter how hard you tried. And, god, you had tried. No amount of smutty fan fiction or archaic romance tropes could quell your thirst.

You didn’t even know his name.

Jess and Cal had urged you to just knock on his door and introduce yourself, but you knew it wasn’t that simple. First, you had more than one apartment neighboring yours. You were not about to knock on each and every door in your hallway to find some mystery boy - even if he did call you kitten and smelled like summer nights. Second, you had already written so much filth inspired by your brief encounter that you feared you might not survive being in the same vicinity as him without spontaneously combusting or jumping on him.

And third, you were just so intimidated by him and his dominating presence. Even though you spent just a few minutes with him, you knew that you would have fallen to your knees before him if he’d demanded it… And he really looked like the type to demand.

Now every damn time you entered your apartment building, your eyes sought him out. You jumped out of your skin at every ding of the elevator, half fearing and half hoping he might be getting off. Your heart pounded whenever you walked down your hallway to unlock your door, waiting for him to swing open his own door to greet you with a smirk and some sarcastic words.

But, nothing had happened. And you were beginning to think he might have just been a rain-induced hallucination. Those were a thing, right?

You shook yourself out of your disastrous train of thought. Your shift at ‘Grind On Me’ was approaching, and you really needed to make some money. Rent, unfortunately, just didn’t pay itself. Tugging on your non-slip black sneakers, you made sure to grab your umbrella - just like you had the previous couple days, despite the clear forecast. You would not be caught out - or called out - again.

You push open your apartment door, shoving your umbrella deep into your tote bag and stepping out into the hall. You were entirely unprepared for the sight you were met with.

The boy from earlier that week was fumbling near the door across from you with what looked like an entire art store crammed into half a dozen reusable bags. He was mumbling about some Han character who couldn’t “get off his ass for one second to help him”. And, his hair was a bright shade of blue.

His. Hair. Was. Blue.

You must have made some sort of choking noise because suddenly he whipped around to face you. His wide eyes latched onto yours, and you couldn’t help but think that there was something peculiar about him today - even besides the hair.

A light flush bloomed on the boy’s face that you were sure was mirrored on your own tenfold. Shit, he really could pull off that shade of blue… Your eyes involuntarily slid lower to check out his white slouchy ‘CELINE” t-shirt, his black Adidas sweatpants, his bag hung casually off one muscular shoulder. You swallowed suddenly craving some water.

“Uh, hey, neighbor,” You waved at him idiotically as he continued to just stare. You lowered your hand and fought the urge to smack yourself for your lame actions.

The boy blinked and then smiled that same boxy smile as before, “Hi! I would wave back, but I’m kind of tied down right now.”

You let out a very uncharacteristic giggle, “And I would offer to help you, but I’m already late for work. Don’t worry, I have my umbrella this time.”

Grabbing your umbrella from your bag, you waved it briefly in the air before returning it to its resting place. “Bye!” You called over your shoulder at the bewildered blue-haired boy, “Love the new hair by the way!”

“Uh, thank you?” He called after you. As you stepped into the elevator, you swore you heard him say something about having good weather with no chance of rain, but you were too busy thinking about how nice he was today.

And about how he didn’t call you kitten.

You were so, so fucked.

When you got to work, you were immediately bombarded with questions from Jess and Cal.

Jess: “Wait. His hair is blue now? Does he look like a hot Smurf?”

Cal: “So, no “kitten”? Throws phone. Stomps on skateboard.”

You: “Did you just try to use the ‘So No Head' Vine out loud?”

Reese: "She sure did." *wipes away tear proudly*

They continued to clown on you for another hour while some of your favorite regulars filed in and out, grabbing their late afternoon coffees.

One of your particular favorites was an enigmatic individual named Heath. You, Jess and Cal were about 85% certain that Heath was a sugar daddy based on his regular order (the "Valentino Flat White") and the large amount of tips he always left (at least $20 for each barista on duty).

Another favorite customer of yours was Tay. She tended to skulk in the corner of the cafe, typing away on her phone and occasionally letting out loud bursts of laughter. Once, you had asked what she was writing, but she just looked at you like you had asked for her darkest secret. You figured it was something juicy.

Sighing, you checked the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time that evening - 6:50PM. Two more hours til you could go home, throw on some sweatpants, and drink a glass of cheap wine.

Wiping down the coffee bar, you heard a throat clear behind you. "Be right with you!" You called over your shoulder, placing the wipe in the garbage before turning to take their order.

"Oh," You gasped as you took in the new customer, "Your hair!"

"My hair?" Your neighbor that you had seen just hours before tugged his hands through his now-brown waves, "Is there something wrong with it..." His dark eyes flicked to your name-tag, “(y/n)?”

"N-no," You gulped, wondering what happened to the cute blushing blue-haired boy from earlier. Your neighbor really was giving you whiplash with his different moods. "What can I get for you?"

"Your number." His boxy grin was lethal, his voice was sultry.

You blinked at him. "You could have just knocked on my door later if you needed me."

His eyebrows flew up, "Oh really? I like the sound of that. You'd have to give me your address though, kitten."

"Very funny," You scoffed. Your insides turned to mush over the return of the nickname that you hated to love. "Now, seriously, what can I get for you?"

"Surprise me," He winked, handed you $50 and sauntered to a nearby table.

Gaping, you shook yourself out of your trance and got to work on his 'surprise' - an "I Thought You Were Americano".

"Who is that?" You jumped two feet in the air at Jess' hissed question. She was hovering right behind you as you poured the espresso into his to-go cup.

"My fucking hair chameleon of a neighbor!" You whispered back, conveying your panic, “Deliver this to him, would you?“ You tried in vain to shove the hot Americano into Jess' hands but she dodged your efforts.

"Oh no, bitch,” She laughed, "I am going to watch from afar as this plays out."

"Goddamn you," You shot her your best side-eye and stalked off to deliver the drink to your godforsaken neighbor.

The boy in question flicked his eyes up to look at you as you approached his table. He was wearing a flowy button-down shirt with at least four of the buttons undone, showcasing a tan and very toned chest. His legs were spread wide, encased in tight black slacks that left little to the imagination.

You gulped, trying not to imagine yourself perched on his lap and grinding into his hard––

"See something you like, kitten?" You jerked out of your daze and looked at his amused face. "I know I do."

You decided to be bratty. "Nope, nothing too impressive for me to see." You smiled sweetly as you deposited his drink on the table in front of him.

He licked his lips slowly, "God, if you were mine..." He trailed off, eyes narrowed on yours. Your mouth dried as the image of the two of you in a dark bedroom flashed into your mind. You sprawled out across his lap, his hands smacking your ass, your underwear pulled to the side…

“Yeah, you get the picture,” Your neighbor’s crooked smirk was downright obscene as his eyes flashed to your lips briefly. “I’ll see you later tonight, kitten. You know, when I come knocking at your door.”

With that parting remark, he stood, raised his americano in your direction, and strutted out the door.

You stood rooted to the spot, gaping after him for god knows how long.

“She’s gotta move at some point,” Cal’s voice vaguely sounded from the side of you.

“I don’t know,” Jess’ response sounded from your other side, “I once saw her stare out at a speck of dust for like fifteen minutes straight.”

That got you. “It was not fifteen minutes!” You defended yourself, “And it’s not my fault that I happened to be writing a coffeehouse AU at that time!”

Your friends cackled as you stomped back behind the counter.

Your friends were evil, and so was your neighbor, of that you were certain.

And you were so, so, so fucked.

Hours later, you were still thinking about your fucking neighbor. Why were you only meeting him now? Why was his hair always changing colors? Why did he fuck with you so much? Why did you like it?

All of these questions bounced around your brain as you entered your building, your eyes seeking out the boy instinctively. But, as before, he was nowhere to be seen.

You shuffled over to the ancient elevator and punched the 'Up' button a few more times than necessary. Something must be wrong with you. You were way too infatuated with your way too infuriating neighbor.

The elevator doors parted, and you automatically sighed in relief and disappointment as you entered the empty space. Pushing the button to your floor, you waited for the doors to close.

“Wait!”

A shudder trailed down your spine as you watched the doors re-open to let the subject of your thoughts onto the lift. He was wearing yet another outfit that was different from earlier - a white tank top with loose pants adorned with decorative zippers.

And was that a fucking tattoo?

There was no way you had missed that in your previous encounters. He must have felt your piercing stare because his eyes flashed over to yours. “See something you like?”

“You have a tattoo!” You blurted out.

“Um, yeah, I do. Nice observation,” Your neighbor looked at you weirdly. “Aren’t you going to ask what floor I need?”

“You and your fucking jokes,” You rolled your eyes at him.

The boy’s eyebrows shot up, and he looked at you intently, “Ah, so you’re kitten.”

Your insides into jelly, and you decided the safest tactic would now be to ignore him.

“Now, now, kitten,” He crowded your space, backing you up against the elevator wall, “It’s impolite to ignore your neighbor.”

“Well, it’s against the commandments to covet your neighbor, isn’t it?” You sniffed, pretending to not be affected by his sheer size and dangerous aura. The tattoo curling up his neck demanded your attention, and you only wished you could pay your respects with your tongue.

“I’m pretty sure they said something about coveting a neighbor’s wife… you’re not married are you, kitten? Got a boyfriend, girlfriend or partner that we don’t know about?” His breath mingled with your own, his lips so close to your own.

Wait, we?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the elevator’s arrival at your floor. Ducking under his corded arms, you scurried out of the elevator and down the hall towards your apartment.

Of course, he lazily trailed after you.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” You shot over your shoulder at him as you neared your door. “We just met like two days ago.”

His grin turned feral, “Yes, kitten, of course we did. Hey, why don’t you come over for a drink? You’re right; we don’t really know each other. Let’s change that.”

You weighed your options. Hanging out with him could drive you absolutely crazy or it could lead to something you previously could only write about.

He lounged against the wall next to your door in await of your answer. He raised a hand to brush his hair out of his eyes, and your eyes caught a sudden flash of silver. Was that an honest to god nipple piercing you just saw?

All rational exited the building. “Sure, but only for a little bit. Let me just change real quick.”

“Great, kitten,” His eyes flared, “Wear something comfortable. Just knock when you’re ready.”

You just nodded mutely as you entered your apartment and then shut the door. What the fuck were you getting yourself into?

After ten panicked minutes of you running around your apartment in search of ‘comfortable’ clothes, you were poised to knock on your still nameless neighbor’s door. You glanced down at your cropped t-shirt, leggings and running shoes. It would do. Besides, you had your lucky lingerie on underneath just in case.

Before you could even knock, the door flew open. “I was beginning to worry you were just going to stand there all night, kitten.” Your neighbor pouts, “And then we wouldn’t get to have any fun.”

You rolled your eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to invite me inside?”

His lips twitched, “How vampiresque of you, (y/n).”

You smiled broadly, “If I was a vampire, I would definitely have killed you already. You’re really fucking annoying.”

He stared at you for a split second before throwing his head back and laughing. The amount of neck that was in your face was heavenly; and, suddenly, you questioned whether vampires actually had it right this whole time.

“Well, kitten. I’m Taehyung. Please, do come in,” He opened the door wider, still chuckling lowly, “Would you like anything to drink? I think we have wine and maybe some beer hiding in the fridge somewhere.”

There was that pesky ‘we’ again.

“Red wine sounds good, thank you,” You said, plopping yourself down on one of the deep wooden barstools lining the marble kitchen island. You watched as he poured two glasses and handed one to you. Just as you were about to ask if he had roommates, Taehyung held up his glass.

“Cheers to being very friendly neighbors,” He said, sitting in the stool next to yours and staring intently at you.

“Cheers,” You echoed, clinking your glasses together and then taking a sip. Your eyes widened both from the sight of Taehyung drinking – his throat tipped back, his eyes dark on yours – and the deliciousness of the wine. It was an intense ruby red pinot noir that somehow tasted of fruit and of smokey spice all at once. It was honestly so fucking good that you just knew it had to be exorbitantly expensive. You licked your lips, making sure not to miss a single drop.

Taehyung’s eyes latched onto the movement. “You know,” He murmured, “They say if you hold eye contact while toasting, you’ll keep having good sex.”

You almost spat out your second sip of wine. Just as you were about to risk it all and say you would actually have to start having sex for that to happen, a crashing sound echoed from the dark hallway to your left.

“Shit,” Taehyung cursed, glaring in the direction the sound had come from, “I need to go and check what that was. Are you all right out here for a minute?”

You shrugged and nodded, swirling your wine around your glass.

“Be right back,” Taehyung brushed his hand over your cheek for a split second before stalking down the hallway in search of whatever had caused the ruckus.

Your hand flew to your now-warm cheek. Fuck, were you really crushing on your cute neighbor with the mood-swings?

Ugh, you were.

You glanced speculatively around his apartment. It was so much nicer than yours… The minimalist but chic decor just screamed rich vibes. However, there were a few oddities that made you frown. Four sets of keys hung by the front door. Four sets of shoes were lined up in the foyer. Four different color coded markings were on the calendar pinned to the wall.

Four different versions of Taehyung smiled back at you from a photo stuck to the fridge.

“Hello again, kitten,” The low voice startled you from your internal panic. Reluctantly turning to face them, you cursed your own stupidity. The blonde version of Taehyung that you met a few days ago grinned back at you.

“Fucking brothers,” You moaned, slouching over on the kitchen island and placing your head in your hands, “You’re all fucking brothers.”

“Quadruplets, actually,” He unhelpfully added, “I’m V. You’re (y/n), right?”

“Were you all just eavesdropping on me and Taehyung, or what?” You knew your were being petty right now, but you felt blindsided by your own lack of awareness and the brothers’ obvious lack of tact.

“Kind of,” Blue-haired Taehyung exited the hallway, “Sorry, (y/n).”

It was honestly unfair how sweet Blue was. “It’s okay. What’s your name?”

“Vante,” He waved at you and grinned, “See? I can finally wave back now!”

If you could turn into a human version of ‘uwu’, you would have done so right then and there.

“Stop flirting with her, Vante,” Coffee-shop Taehyung enters the kitchen followed closely by the actual Taehyung, “Let me introduce myself, kitten. I…” He gripped your hand and brought it to his lips, “Am Hansung.” His lips brushed over your knuckles as the words poured out of his mouth.

You blinked at him as it clicked, “Oh, so you’re the Han that wouldn’t get off his ass!”

Hansung choked, dropping your hand as his brothers cried with laughter. “Who said that?” He rounded on his brothers, “Who?”

Vante shot you a desperate look; and, since you had already internally declared him your favorite, you kept the information to yourself. “I don’t see how that matters when you all clearly have been keeping me in the dark about the fact that there are four of you.”

“I mean,” Taehyung began, “Technically we didn’t not tell you. You just never asked.”

Your blood boiled, “And how the fuck would I know to ask? Should I have consulted a psychic? Scoured the census data? Kept tabs on the entire population of quadruplets nationwide?”

You stared down each of the boys. Vante and Hansung at least looked a tad sheepish, but Taehyung and V just looked amused.

“You were right,” Taehyung nudged V, “She is feisty.”

You contemplated your options: 1) Kill V and bury the body deep in the nearby woods, 2) Dramatically exit the apartment and never speak to these demonspawn ever again, or 3) Chug this miraculous tasting wine.

You chose option three.

No regrets.

Looking at each of them, you felt like you could be the stock image for the word ‘shooketh’. Fuck, you had thought it was overwhelming when there was just one of them in your mind. But, now? You were in full panic mode over the sheer amount of masculinity and identical good looks that surrounded you.

“You know what?” You said after draining your glass, “I really don’t like being made to look like a fool. And that’s what you all did to me this whole week.” You saw Vante open his mouth, and you cut him off, “Some more than others… but, still, you knew where I lived. You could have just introduced yourself separately.”

You stood, glancing over the boys’ varying degrees of pouts and sighing. “Yeah, I’m out of here.”

Making your way over to the door, you were suddenly cut off by V. He leaned heavily against the door, successfully blocking your smooth exit.

“V, move.”

“No, you need to hear us out, kitten,” He murmured, looking down at you with an intense expression you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “Could you do that for us?”

You spared a glance over your shoulder, and sure enough, the other three were right there. Vante stared at you pleadingly. Hansung shot you a wink. Taehyung snapped his gaze up to yours… Had he been checking out your ass?

Deciding not to pay them any mind, you turned back around to face V and shrugged, “Fine, two minutes.”

“Good girl.”

A shiver coursed down your spine. You didn’t even know which brother behind you muttered those two words, and, yet, perhaps that made it all the more thrilling.

V shot a glare over your head and then refocused on you. “Kitten, we’re sorry. We just really like to tease, and you made it so easy.” Seeing your glare, he continued, “We didn’t mean to make you upset. That wasn’t our intention at all… it was the complete opposite, actually.”

Taehyung moved in front of you, next to V. “Why don’t we start over? Come over for dinner tomorrow night at eight. We’ll have a proper introduction to our neighborly relationship.”

You mulled it over in your mind. Embarrassment warred with infatuation. Worst case scenarios clashed with the best of cases. Images of a dark bedroom with multiple partners contrasted with words typed on a laptop screen.

Finally, as the seconds ticked by, you decided to ask yourself: ‘What would your characters do?’

They would fuck them all.

“Okay,” You sighed, eyeing the two boys in front of you and then the two behind, “But you better make something edible.”

“Challenge accepted,” V’s eyes glinted wickedly.

“It wasn’t even––” You cut yourself off. Though you only had met V twice thus far, you knew it was virtually impossible to make him back down from anything he perceived as a dare. “You know what? Sure, it’s a challenge. I’ll be the Gordon Ramsey; you’ll be the crying contestants.”

A stifled giggle sounds from behind you that you suspect belonged to Vante.

“That mouth…” Taehyung muttered. His tongue swiped along his lower lip as he stared you down.

Suddenly, Hansung popped out from behind you and shoved his two brothers out of the way of the door. “Allow me, kitten,” He swung it open in a flourish, bowing as he cleared your way out. Your lips twitched. That boy was so extra.

“Thank you, Han,” You smiled and waved as you exited their apartment, “I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow night…” Walking the short distance across the hall to your own apartment, you unlock your door, step inside, and then turn back to see if they were still there.

They were.

All four of them peered back at you from their doorway. “Shoo!” You laughed, waving them away before slamming your door shut.

You were so, so, so, so fucked.

Four’s hands ghosted over your skin, caressing the dips of your curves. You shuddered as Three’s tongue slides across your pussy.

“You like that, kitten?” One asks, as he watches from the armchair in the corner of the room, “You like my brothers ruining you?” You weren’t fooled by his lack of participation; you knew One pulled the strings. “Answer me.”

“Yes, daddy,” You moan out as Two sucks one of your nipples in his mouth and asoidfjgioykl—

The ringing of your doorbell caused you to key-smash in panic. “Coming!” You called out, flustered over the interruption and over the filth you just wrote about your neighbors.

You padded over to the door and peered out the peep-hole. It was Hansung. Your breath caught in your throat as you try to push the vivid scenes you just wrote out of your mind.

Pulling open the door, you greeted him with a smile, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hi…” Hansung trailed off, his eyes roving over your body. You glanced down at your typical loungewear - an oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts. Nothing too out of the ordinary. “Do you have any sugar?”

You stared at him with a deadpan expression, “Are you serious?”

“I don’t joke about sweets, kitten,” Hansung grinned, running a hand through his messy head of hair. You would have to add a scene to your story about pulling on it… “There’s that look,” he shook his head amusedly, “When will you ever let us know some of those thoughts?”

“Never,” You vowed and stepped aside so that he could enter your apartment, “Come on in. I’m pretty sure I have sugar somewhere. Sorry for the mess.” You wandered over to the kitchen area adjacent to your living room. Hansung was assessing your apartment with a critical eye, and you decided you needed to make this fast before he uncovered any dirty secrets.

Pulling open your baking cabinet, you scoured the shelves looking for that pesky ingredient. Flour, vanilla extract, chocolate chips…

“How is it that four boys don’t have any sugar?” You complained, leaning up to snag your bag of sugar from the very top shelf.

“We ask ourselves that all the damn time,” You knew Hansung was smirking even without seeing him, “We’re getting some now though… and later.”

“Well, good,” You turned to face him, “You better stock up so you don’t come bothering me every time you need some.”

He laughed, “Oh, (y/n), we’ll always want more.”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved the bag of sugar to his chest and pushed him towards the door to your apartment. “Out you go!”

“Oh kitten, I always knew you were sweet on me,” Hansung grinned widely as he stared down at the sugar you had pushed against his chest.

“Fuck off,” You groaned, letting out a slight chuckle despite yourself. “Now, go away and cook me a nice dinner. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye-e-e kitten,” he sang as he paraded back across the hall, “Wear something sexy for me.” With a wink, Hansung disappeared back into his shared apartment.

You groaned, slamming your door shut before sliding down it onto the floor. These brothers might be the death of you. Glancing up, your eyes settled on your laptop. Had it always been in that position? Was that how you left it?

Standing up, you walked over to where your laptop resides on your coffee table and closed it. You had a dinner to get ready for, after all. You didn’t have time to return to your story.

Alas, you really should have made time; because, little did you know, the open document on your screen had a new addition courtesy of Hansung… “That’s hot. Which number am I?”

It was 7:59PM; you were pacing inside your apartment.

You contemplated cancelling for the hundredth time that evening. But, momma didn’t raise no bitch.

With that in mind, you assessed yourself in the foyer mirror. The black midi-dress wrapped around your body like armor. The wings of your eyeliner flicked out like battle knives. The redness of your lipstick warned of the biting tongue that lie within.

Yeah, you looked ready for war, and it was perfect.

With that in mind, you trudged across the hall and knocked on their door before you could talk yourself out of it.

The door opened to reveal V in all his glory. His blonde hair was tousled, his eyes were dark. He looked at you as if he knew all of your secrets.

You bit your lip, “Um, hi?”

A slow smile crossed his face, “Hi, kitten. Please come in.”

You moved past him to enter into the apartment. Taehyung appeared and greeted you with a grin. “Hey, (y/n),” He purred, running a hand down your arm, “Glad you could make it.”

God, what was up? The tension in the room was palpable. You walked over towards where Hansung and Vante were plating dinner in the kitchen.

“Hi,” You greeted them. Vante jumped two feet in the air as Hansung smirked at you.

You cocked your head. Moving your eyes from one brother to the next, you caved, “Okay, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean, (y/n)?” V moved closer to you, “Is this not going as you wrote it?”

You stopped breathing. No, there was no way… but, your laptop had seemed to be moved. You shot Hansung a look in askance.

He grinned sheepishly, and it told you everything you needed to know.

“Fuck,” You turned away from them, “I’m so sorry. This is so embarrassing. I’ll leave.”

“Who’s One?” V’s question cut through your rambled apology.

“What?” You blinked, turning to look at him.

“Who is One, kitten? Is it me?” V moved right in front of you. You gulped. He smiled. “I thought so.”

“You see, (y/n)-kitten,” He continued, “You were right. My brothers and I? We’re a unit. We do everything together. We live together, we date together, we fuck together.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words.

“We just want one girl to keep us all together, kitten… to be ours.” V murmured, twisting a lock of your hair between his fingers, “That’s what we’ve been searching for for so long.”

You finally found words at last, “And you think that girl is me?”

“We know it’s you,” Vante said, shyly approaching you, “And we’re going to show you why.”

He kissed you. You almost laughed over how cute, shy Vante was the first brother to kiss you. His kiss was gentle, but insistent in its movements. It was like he was pleading you to let him in both your mouth and your heart.

You crumbled. Your hands fisted his shirt and tugged him closer. His kiss ignited something in you that made you want more.

Your tongue darted out to run along the seam of his lips. Vante gasped, and your tongue slid inside.

As you continue to kiss him, someone moved behind you, his lips ghosted over your neck.

“Mm, baby,” Taehyung whispered against the nape of your neck, “You’re so beautiful.”

Taehyung ran his hands over your hips and tugged your ass flush with his crotch. You moaned into Vante’s mouth. Vante took advantage of your dazed state to slide his tongue against yours in a way that was so deliciously dirty.

Suddenly, Vante backed up, and V took his place before you.

His hands slid up your body, grazing the sides of your breasts before settling back down at the top of your waist.

He kissed you deeply, differently than Vante. The slight roughness of his touch was new, and it seemed to declare ownership over you.

V’s tongue twined with yours, playing with you. From behind you, Taehyung continued to slowly grind into you.

Your body felt so overheated, so overwhelmed.

Pulling back from your mouth, V glanced over your shoulder, and Taehyung slipped away from you.

V focused back on you. “I don’t think you understand what you do to us. God, this dress. Did you wear it to tease us, kitten? We’ve been wanting to unwrap you, to strip you down, since you walked through our door.”

V fiddled with the bow keeping your dress fastened.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you said, “Well, do it then.”

His hand froze. His eyes flicked up to yours. “You’re sure, (y/n)? You know what you’re asking for? You know what we’ll give you?”

You glanced around. Vante looked at you with a hopeful expression. Hansung wore a smirk, already working on undoing the buttons of his shirt. Taehyung full-on grinned at you with dark eyes full of wicked intent and promise.

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left your lips, the mood shifted. V nodded at Vante, who scurried out of the room. You opened your mouth to question his departure, but V cut you off.

“Now, kitten, I know you’ve imagined this - wrote this; but, you’re not the one in charge here. We are.”

He led you down the hall and into what must have been his own bedroom. The king size bed dominated the room. Paintings decorated the walls… Was that a real Degas?

Vante entered the room, holding what looked like long scraps of silk.

“Finally,” Hansung grumbled, and then turned to you, “Strip.”

Your hands shook as you reached down to the tie at your waist and pulled. Your dress, your armor, fell to the ground in a whoosh. You stood in just your underwear, having forgone a bra that evening.

“Goddamn,” V growled, “Such a good little slut coming to our place without a bra.”

His filthy words slid over your body like a caress and settled deep in your core. You pushed your thighs together. The movement was not lost on the brothers.

“Vante.”

At V’s call, Vante reached out and took your hand. Leading you over to the bed, he gestured for you to lay down. “We want to tie you up, kitten. Is that okay? If not, we can have fun in other ways.”

“T-that’s okay,” You swallowed hard, “I like bondage.”

“I knew it!” Hansung cheered from the left foot of the bed.

“Shut up, Han,” Vante shot over his shoulder as he focused on tying your wrists behind your head. Refocusing on you, he mumbled, “How does that feel, baby? Too tight? Too loose?”

“Just right,” You sighed, almost moaning at how hot you felt getting tied down by one man while three others watched.

Taehyung sat down at your side, his pointer finger began drawing light circles across your stomach. “Can Hansung take your panties off, kitten?”

Nodding, you looked down as Hansung leaned over you, hands briefly squeezing your hips before tugging your underwear down your thighs. Almost on reflex, you squeezed your legs together again, craving any sort of friction.

“Open your legs,” V ordered from his stance against the wall by the foot of the bed, “Show us how wet you are.”

You listened, hyper-aware of how your wetness was surely obvious. Taehyung’s fingers suddenly pinched your nipple, rolling the puckered bud between his fingers. A small moan escaped you.

“Fuck,” someone cursed. Hansung, you guessed. “She’s so pretty.”

“How wet is she?” Taehyung asked, the only brother not openly ogling your wet pussy.

“Dripping,” Vante murmurs, tongue wetting his lips.

Your eyes locked with V’s as he stared you down. “Now, kitten, do you want Vante to lick your pussy? Or Hansung?”

Both boys in question stared at you with wistful expressions. You knew your answer though. It was not an option he had given. And it was your lack of answer that tipped V off.

“Ah, I see,” V laughed. “Well, that’ll be a new one for us.”

Hansung shot V a confused look, “What?”

“She wants both of your mouths,” V smirked at your immediate blush, “What? Am I wrong, baby?”

“…No,” You pouted.

Vante’s eyebrows furrowed, “Both of us? Like at one time? Or one after the other?”

All eyes were on you once more as you squirmed under the weight of their attention and Taehyung’s continued worship of your nipples with his fingers.

“Either?” You were losing your train of thought under the building pleasure. Could you actually come from just nipple play?

“Mm,” V hummed, “Our little kitten is being indecisive. Vante?”

Again, Vante hastened to fulfill V’s unspoken command. You wondered how many times the brothers had done this together, because they were really fucking in sync.

“Are you good with being blindfolded, too, kitten?” Vante asked, kissing your cheek lightly. You nodded and lifted your head up slightly so he could tie the soft silk around your head.

Darkness consumed you. Your senses heightened. A breath coasted over your wetness and you shuddered.

A light kiss pressed over your folds followed by a tentative swipe of a tongue. “Damn, she tastes fucking amazing,” Hansung groaned, completely giving himself away.

“Shut up and make her come, Han. Or I’ll let Vante take your place.” V’s voice came from closer by you now. Was he right next to you? Was he at your feet?

His lips felt so soft as he dragged them over your pussy to finally suck your clit in between them. His tongue slid and flicked perfectly against your clit.

The small ministrations of his tongue against your clit set your arousal ablaze. You shifted your hips up in hopes he will lick harder, but a firm hand pushed you back down.

“No, no, kitten,” V’s voice sounded in your ear, “You’ll get what we give you.”

Hansung continued to stroke his tongue between your legs. Finally, by the grace of the gods, he pushed a finger inside you and hissed, “Fuck, she’s so tight.”

You clenched down around his finger at his words, and he moaned. “She was fucking made for us.”

As Han returned to worship your pussy, another tongue flicked at your nipple. Was that Vante? Taehyung?

Honestly, not knowing was high-key hot. You were hurtling towards your orgasm as one brother ate your pussy, another worshipped your breasts, and two more watched.

The feeling of having so much attention on you, on your pleasure, on your body, set you off. You came with an embarrassingly loud moan.

Lips brushed your ear as V murmured, “You’re so sexy when you come, kitten. I bet you’ll look even better when you come all over my cock.”

A whine escaped you as he teased you, licking your neck, teeth scraping over it. The afterglow of your orgasm quickly turned into the aching need for more.

And then your stomach let out an insanely loud growl.

The room quieted. A chuckle escaped someone. Then, laughs echoed around the bedroom.

“Well, someone needs to be fed,” V’s smile was apparent as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

The blindfold slipped from around your head and you blinked up at V as he untied your wrists. “Come on, baby, we can reheat dinner.”

“But–” You pouted as V placed a finger to your lips.

“We can get back to that after. We’re not even close to being done with you, kitten.”

“I don’t think we ever will,” Taehyung grinned at you as he tugged you up from the bed.

“Here you go, (y/n),” Vante handed you Han’s discarded button down.

“Thank you,” You blushed at his cuteness. Pausing, you scoured the ground for your panties.

Thwack.

Your ass stung as V’s hand massaged over the area he just smacked.

“They’re mine. Don’t bother,” His grin was feral as he squeezed your ass and then led you out of the room towards the kitchen.

As you both joined the others in the kitchen, you took the plate that Han offered you. Surveying the room, you took in your varying states of undress as you all stood around the kitchen island eating your reheated dinners.

Damn, you could get used to this… Taehyung caught your eye and shot you a wink.

Yeah, you were so fucked… but, so were they.

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

[if-tomorrow-never-comes]

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2022/mar/26/carl-barat-the-libertines-guiltiest-pleasure-love-island

The Q&A

Carl Barât

Interview The Libertines’ Carl Barât: ‘My guiltiest pleasure? Love Island’

Rosanna Greenstreet

The musician on marathon meth sessions, moving to Margate and the Marvel superhero he secretly fancies

Sat 26 Mar 2022 

Born in Basingstoke, Carl Barât, 43, formed the Libertines with Pete Doherty in the late 90s. Their second album, The Libertines, debuted at No 1 in the UK in 2004. Barât also made two albums with Dirty Pretty Things, released a solo album in 2010 and one with his new band, the Jackals, in 2015. This summer, the Libertines celebrate the 20th anniversary of their debut album, Up the Bracket, with shows in Manchester, Hatfield, Cardiff and Edinburgh. Barât lives in London with his partner and their two children.

When were you happiest? The last time I held my children and every time before that. They’ve been my salvation.

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? Fear and all of its consequences.

What is the trait you most deplore in others? Fear and all of its consequences.

What was your most embarrassing moment? Shouting a jubilant “Hello, Bournemouth” to the crowd in Brighton the other week. It was excruciating, the blood just drained from my body.

Describe yourself in three words. Hopeful, kind, complicated.

What would your superpower be? Pausing time to overthink everything just that little bit more.

What do you most dislike about your appearance? That I don’t look remotely like Elvis.

What is the worst thing anyone’s said to you? “Maybe you should give up, you just don’t have the talent.”

What is your guiltiest pleasure? Love Island.

What is your most unappealing habit? Repetition.

If you could bring something extinct back to life, what would you choose? Charlie Chaplin.

Who is your celebrity crush? Black Widow, the Marvel character.

Which book are you ashamed not to have read? Any Emily Dickinson.

Would you choose fame or anonymity? It depends what mood I am in. If I want to be recognised, I won’t be, and if I don’t, I will – usually by taxi drivers.

What was the last lie that you told? That I am feeling great: I’ve got Covid.

What do you owe your parents? A bit more of my time.

What did you dream about last night? Pushing past some kids on a water slide and then being too scared to go down it.

What’s your biggest disappointment? Not being an actor.

If not yourself, who would you most like to be? My cat, Kiko, the spoilt bastard.

When was the last time you changed your mind about something significant? I changed my mind about living in London and decided to move to Margate. I am buying a house there.

How often do you have sex? As often as my partner allows.

What would you like to leave your children? The tools to find happiness.

What is the closest you’ve come to death? Probably when I didn’t sleep for a week on drugs in 2009. I’d had a lot of meth and my heart felt like it was giving out. I remember climbing over balconies really high up, and I thought I was going to die, until I eventually fell asleep in someone’s garden.

What happens when we die? I believe we just continue. I don’t die, the world just stops.

[alloverthegaf]

one of my guiltiest pleasures, and really only something I let myself do when I’ve been sick and stuck in the house for too long, is the visual novel app Choices, because I’m always like “oh it’s trashy, juvenile, predictable” etc. And like. It is, in some ways, it’s not exactly the most deeply written plots or the writing of poets or anything, but honestly I am starting to realise I really need to stop looking at it like some shallow second bit attempt at stories. Because aside from the fact that, despite the predictable plots and (some) questionable characters, it draws me in for at least the entertainment and escapist value -

it also, you know - production/writing quality etc. aside - it’s got some of the most diverse queer casts I’ve come across in anything you would classify as literature, and they present them in such an easy casual way. The last time I played one of these stories is probably well over a year ago, and I was super impressed with the amount of gay/lesbian and bi people that were a part of your story (and that you could be queer yourself if you wanted in a lot of the stories) and just today I started a new one (because again, been stuck at home sick for almost a week), and oh shit, one of the main characters is trans?? and it’s no big fanfare just starts off with a flashback to college like “this is her first night after fully transitioning look how great she looks in this dress!”

like Choices is kinda trashy story-wise and is definitely not shy about trying to get some extra money out of you but it’s still probably one of the most casually diverse story/game apps I have ever come across

[honestlyfragile]

Undertake - Lee Minho • Lee Know

originally posted on ao3 as: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23861383/chapters/57353434

Pairing: Lee Know x Female Reader

Genre: angst!smut

Tw: NSFW, cheating, marijuana, smoking, alcohol, sex, oral sex

One call. One text. That’s all it took for you to be on call and ready for duty.

Part 1 | Part2

Minho was an ex, a failed relationship that didn’t work out for its own reasons. Primarily because it was lust, not love. But one thing makes him come back. No matter how distant he has become with you. You could go on for weeks and months without him, but as soon as you get that one text, you were on call. “Duty?” You read across your screen, you feel a smirk crawling and making its way to your lips. “On your call ;)” you gladly respond. Minho speeds his way to your apartment. He just got into an awful argument with his girlfriend, not to mention the sex was terrible with her, oh to be the girl that he runs to when he’s short on his sexual desires. Or basically just frustrated and wants a good fuck. But how come you never refused? Because you loved it, you loved how you were still an irreplaceable mark on him. You love how he thinks of you when his skin crawls, when he gets goosebumps whenever his dick was hard, it was you and no one else. You knew how to make his worries vanish, you knew how to get him to his high and he goes absolutely fucking crazy over that.

You come down to welcome him inside your home but instead he tells you to go inside the car. “I don’t have a bra. Give me a moment.” You cross your arms and turn your back.

“Fuck that, everything will come off anyways. Get in.” he says as he grips the steering wheel tightly, growing impatient. 

You roll your eyes and get inside. He offers you a rolled joint and you gladly take it. You go closer towards him and light yours with his, making eye contact. You take your first hit and draw it through your mouth, and you feel its smoke flavor burn in your mouth as it smoothly goes to your lungs and exhale. You throw your head back at the sensation. 

“So, what brings you here?” You scoff, lazily looking at him as his face was slightly illuminated by the moonlight, his eyes glossy and slightly tainted red. 

He takes a hit, and exhales heavily. A bitter laugh escapes his naturally curled lips almost like of a feline. “She’s so,” he pauses, thinking of the right word. “Suffocating. Yes that’s the word.” he closes his eyes and a resentful smile plays on his lips. You nod your head even if he doesn’t see, he knows you’re listening, so he continues. His words sloppily coming out of his mouth. “And it’s strange, how I always tolerate it. Minho stop talking to her, Minho stop doing this stop doing that Minho i don’t like that” and his words were all stitched together, rolling off his tongue and he forgets to take a breath. He inhales another. 

“Then why don’t you just, i don’t know…take your head out of the water and break up with her?” You hastily suggest.

“No, I love her.” he purses his lips and throws his head back. 

“If you did you wouldn’t be doing this with me.” You raise an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“This,” he motions his finger between the both of you, “Isn’t love. It’s nothing.” 

“Then stop coming back to me. Stop calling me, stop fucking me. I bet you can’t.” You look at him straight in the eye, and you slowly feel the high washing over you. 

“No.” he hovers over you and kisses your lips with his moist ones. Well if he kept wanting to do this, with what choice does it leave you? It’s not like you forced him to stay or to keep doing this with you. You just simply agreed to whenever he needed it. 

The kiss gets deeper and you motion him to the backseat, where he willingly goes. You place yourself on top of him and continue to place wet and open-mouthed kisses on his neck, feeling his prominence. He takes off your shirt, revealing your bra-less self. He gropes your breasts with his hands and massages them while sucking your nipples and placing his face in the valleys of your breast.

You throw your head back with the tingling sensation and it involuntarily causes you to grind on his hard on. He grunts and holds the back of your neck, pulling you closer so he can suck and put your bottom lip in between his teeth. Your hands travel to the hem of his shirt and quickly take it off. Your hands rake his now slightly wet hair due to sweat, but it smells like old spice, just how you like it. 

You take off his sweatpants and his cock is hard as hell leaking with precum. You feel it with your palms to drive him just a little over the edge. “God do it already.” He pants, feeling desperate. 

“So impatient.” You smirk and pull down his boxers and it springs up and lightly hits his stomach. You feel his member and hold it in your palms and give the tip a good lick, a moan escapes from his plump lips, and his fingers are tangled in your locks. 

And you take him in, like you always did. Like how he always liked it. Until the brim. You knew how to get him, whether you were high or sober, you just knew. That’s why he always came back. 

“I can’t cum like this, let me get inside you first.” he flips the both of you over and quickly tries to get a condom from his compartment in the front seat. He slips it in and takes both of your cotton shorts and panties in both of his hands in one go. He places himself in your wet entrance and inserts himself, his size almost overwhelming but it was nothing you can’t take. Your nails dig into his back and you faintly scream in pleasure. 

“Faster oh my god,” you rub circles on your clit while he thrusts in and out of you, making your hips shake, and your body tremble, you can’t breathe. You fucking can’t. Your eyes are shut yet they roll to the back of your head that you could almost see your goddamn brain.  All you could do was moan, scream and whimper. Your fingers felt like it was going out of control. His thrust are sloppier and the car is filled with muffled moans and noises that you can’t even spell. 

“Fuck.” He collapses on top of you and  makes his release and you reach your orgasm. You wipe the sweat that has formed on your forehead. 

Minho sits up and so do you. Keeping fair distance with him, you weren’t the type to cuddle after sex, he wasn’t your boyfriend. You dont fuck with feelings. Your missions don’t come with a reward. What is done, is done. 

“Get out.” He dresses himself up and so do you. Before fixing yourself you sneakily roll yourself another joint to take home. You leave the car and give him a quick salute. He shakes his head and chuckles. At last, he was off.

------

Another day in university wasn’t all that uneasy. You went to the same one as Minho and his girl, but she has no idea that you knew him, moreover you were his ex. So it didn’t bother you. In fact, you even went to some of the same classes with her. A very charming girl who went by the name, Cho Mi Yeon.

“Don’t ever dare tell her about this.” He nibbles on your ear and aggressively whispers, while his fingers were twisted in your vagina. 

“You’re so fucked up, poor girl has no idea.” You tease, sucking on his collarbone. 

“Don’t act like you are any different.” 

“Oh, but I am,” you take his hand and put his two fingers in his mouth, so he can always remember how you taste even when he was with her. “I don’t cheat.”

You pass by the both of them holding hands, like nothing has happened the night before. They sure do make up pretty quickly. Mi Yeon catches you at the side of her eye, and turns her head back to wave and say hi. You wave back casually as Minho is taken aback by the sudden “friendship” that the two of you have. But he quickly retracts himself from the scene and ignores you.  

He was so bad at it, acting all tough on you. Like he doesn’t give a shit, he thinks he can hide it well. But at the end of the day, he is and will be the guiltiest of them all. He will have to carry all of this while all you do is sit and watch for the chaos to eventually unfold.

Minho was a year ahead of you, so he saved himself from getting into the same classes. Otherwise, he’d probably lose his mind. 

You sit your single self down in the university’s cafeteria, having some iced coffee and sweet bread. You weren’t the type to have a clique, or a bunch of friends surrounding you. You prefer to be casual and discreet. Oftentimes, you also wonder if anyone finds you strange or suspicious, but you keep a good relationship with all of your blockmates. You were approachable and easy to talk to. 

You didn’t like attachments, it was a pain in the ass back then to have yourself keeping a damn reputation in high school, college gives you sort of a fresh start, a clean slate. 

“Do you mind if I sit beside you? I mean we do have the next class together.” A charming Mi Yeon says to you and how could you resist? 

“Oh, sure go ahead.” You simply smile and observe her. 

“That’s all you’re having? Do you want some of mine?” She kindly offers you her tuna rice balls, which you kindly refuse. 

“I’m good, it’s too early for me to have something heavy.” You chuckle. “I just saw you with your boyfriend awhile ago, why aren’t you sitting with him?” Your eyes pretend to roam around the space.

“Ah, he had a class to catch, you know he’s a year higher so his sched is different.” She explains. 

“I see. You look great together, by the way.” You genuinely compliment, because it was true. You weren’t jealous. They were real, you were not. 

“Thank you. He’s great.” She talks so fondly about him that you start to feel sorry for her. Just a tiny bit.  

You and Mi Yeon head to class and walk past Minho, who just got out of his. The only reason why you could feel the tension is because he brings it with him. He makes everything awkward and heavy, he was a scaredy cat. 

Mi Yeon gives him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, but on the other hand while her back faces yours, his eyes are on your visage. They were dark, and strong, almost threatening. All you could do is be pretentious, you didn’t know him. You had to remind and convince yourself that you didn’t. 

———

Minho struts in the hallways, gaining looks from others like he always does. His hair black and polished, his natural pink lips were moist and his eyes were like gems. He was definitely hard to resist. 

When he flashes them a smile, they lose it. But what they didn’t know was the huge weight that was lingering in his chest if he ever gets caught. How ironic it was for the cheater to be scared as a wuss, but was brave enough to do it anyways.

His hands were tightly hidden in the pockets of his skinny jeans, and his breathing was heavy. His mind is full of worries that he never shows, but over all those that he is concerned about, being caught was what bothered him the most. The hallways were crowded, there's people who knew where to go, and those who didn't. One accidentally bumps his shoulder and the poor guy is terrified, but Minho makes sure to tell him that it’s no big deal and gives the latter a kind smile.

Most of the people are intimidated by him, but what they don’t know is that Minho is actually more sensitive than they think. He cares, a lot. He has this whole external guard on him but only because the world cannot possibly find out what was actually going through his goddamn mind. He had too many secrets to keep. He only had one person that he would trust the world with.

Minho feels a rush of relief when his path clears up and sees his best friend, Chan. He cheerfully throws his arm around his shoulders and ruffles Chan’s hair. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t plan on styling this today.” Chan chuckles and tries to fix his tresses. “What’s up? You seemed a little indifferent before you walked towards me.” 

Minho shakes his head in disbelief, this man really knew him inside out. He lowers his voice just in case anyone plans on eavesdropping, “How are ____ and Mi Yeon suddenly friends? It doesn’t make sense to me. It’s so dangerous.” 

“Oh shit,” Chan trails off, “That can’t be good. You know that you aren’t friends with ____ right? If she screws you over, you’re done.” 

“Wow that makes me feel so much better.” Minho sarcastically replies. 

“Just saying bro, watch your back. Stop treating your side chick like shit or else telling your girlfriend is the first thing on her list.” Chan casually shrugs his shoulders. 

“Aish. Whatever, she wouldn’t. Otherwise she’s going to be ruined as well.” Minho fidgets for his car keys, “do you still have a class? Do you wanna smoke in my car or something?” 

“Are you stupid? Smoking weed on campus? No thanks man. I’ll pass today.” Oh how much of a goody two shoes Chan was. 

“Alright then, I’ll see you around then.” Chan pats Minho’s back and heads off. 

_____

“Why don’t we ever have like, proper sex?” Mi Yeon pops this question out of the blue as her and Minho were sitting on her apartment’s couch.

He tries to change the topic by acting clueless, “What do you mean? Isn’t it like, all the same?” 

“No it isn’t. It just doesn't feel right when we do it. It doesn’t feel natural.” Mi Yeon sighs and buries her head on Minho’s chest.

“So are you saying that i’m like, not good? You’re always fucking complaining about something!” He raises his voice and the girl is startled. She never meant to start an argument about it but his temper was out of control today. 

“What? I never said that! The problem could be with me or something. What is up with you today?” She raises her head from his chest and sits upright. 

“No, its always your way to start something with me. You’re always finding loopholes so you can nag at me about anything.” Minho stands up, ready to leave. He was not up for this kind of conversation, not today. 

And as always, his coping mechanism was to storm out and text you. He gets in his car and lights a cigarette, and heavily draws the smoke in and out. His hands were tightly gripping the steering wheel and occasionally running through his hair. He had gone beyond the speed limit. Minho was not himself most of the time, but today he is losing more of himself than ever. 

You respond to him a little later than usual, but he was satisfied to see your reply and immediately just heads to your apartment, ready for duty. 

____

“I swear, it was his car.” Mi Yeon tightly clenches her fists and puts it against her chest. 

“But why?” her friend is baffled, just as surprised as she was.

“A girl came out of the apartment, I was a bit far so i didn’t really recognize. But her overall looks just seemed so familiar. I just can’t seem to wrap my finger around who it really was.`` She bites her lip and thinks hard. 

Your figure passes by from afar and as soon as Mi Yeon caught the sight of you, her heart sinks. And no, she’s not going to fight back. She’s not going to yank your hair and yell at you for getting together with her boyfriend behind her back. She had her pride, she had her own way of taking matters into her hands.

“What’s the matter? Is she from here?” Her friend says, puzzled by her sudden change of expression.

Mi Yeon nods her head and spreads a bitter smirk upon her iced cherry stained lips. She takes a few deep breaths and puts her chin up, straightens her back and is no longer slouching. And now, the power is hers. She has both of you wrapped around her finger now. Two can play at that game of acting clueless. 

How quick it was for the tables to turn before you even knew it. And perhaps you never will. 

She could handle it. She realizes that she had wasted so much energy on Minho only for him to do the exact opposite of what she wanted to happen. It wasn’t worth it anymore, but she would love to live to see them eaten up alive by their guilt. 

Without a clue, you walk towards a now composed and smiling Mi Yeon, you were meaning to ask if you could walk to your class together. 

“Hi! We still have a couple minutes, we’ll make it on time.” Mi Yeon cheerfully says as she links her arms with yours. You were kind of surprised by the gesture, but you told yourself that she was doing it out of kindness.

“You’re in a good mood today,” you smile, noticing her energy.

“Yeah? I guess because I didn't wake up on the wrong side of the bed today.” She shrugs.

_______

Mi Yeon offers you to bond over a cup of coffee but you kindly decline it due to your other agendas. 

Which included meeting up with Minho.

He arrives at your apartment and parks his car in front, anxiously waiting for you to open the door. Something was off and he felt it. But let’s be real here, none of the things the both of you were doing were right to begin with. It just felt riskier this time. 

“God why did you take so long?” Minho swiftly steps himself inside your home, stingier than ever. 

“What is up with you today?” You cross your arms, bothered by the way he was acting. 

“Cause i feel like Mi Yeon knows something about this.” he lowers his voice, as if you weren’t the only two people in the house. 

Your eyes widen, why would he ever say such a thing? “What do you mean?”

He paces back and forth, “I don’t know. I just feel it in my gut. She’s being too nice to me these past few days.” 

You chortle in disbelief with his half-assed cohesions. “That doesn’t make sense. Do you hear yourself? She’s being too nice? Isn’t that what she’s supposed to be rather than to keep picking fights with you?”

“But it keeps me from coming here and being with you. Doesn’t it?” He stops and stands still. 

Something in you clicks, but you refuse to believe it because the idea didn’t speak to you that well. You couldn’t believe that she would be able to not call you out if she knew. The last time you remember, she still locked arms with you.

“That's just stupid, your girlfriend being nice to you is something you should be happy about asshole.” You roll your eyes. 

Minho is paranoid but refuses to admit it, he still firmly believes that he can get away with everything and giving up something will be a sign of defeat, no matter what it was. 

Without a word, he walks out the door. 

[twistednuns]

February 2021

Irises and purple, lavender and white hyacinths. For merely three bucks. What a gorgeous bouquet.

My own thai curry recipe. It's THAT delicious.

A pep talk from Manu. Realising I really need to take more chances. And get rid of that dude I've been hanging out with. I've been feeling so stuck lately. I'm toying with the idea of giving it all up. Quitting my job. Leaving the country. Just to see what happens. Because I'm pretty sure I'll love what happens next. / Whatever worlds you live in, there are other worlds out there. If you are uninspired living life a certain way, it’s your duty to change. Nothing, not a relationship or job or housing situation, is worth sacrificing your ravenous hunger for life for. X

I feel my obsession with artificial cherry flavour creeping back up on me. Cherry-flavoured diet coke is one of my guiltiest pleasures.

I keep seeing those multicolour graffiti tags everywhere and I finally found out what kind of pen they use for this effect! I ordered one, I just had to, and it's fantastic. So beautiful and vibrant! I've already asked around how illegal it is to walk around the neighbourhood signing my tag on random surfaces...

Fresh pineapple.

The ocean. Talking about diving. Watching documentaries about marine life like My Octopus Teacher and Blue Planet. Drawing nautical objects, sea dragons and mollusks.

Learning more about apophenia.

It actually smells like spring in the forest and the days are already so much longer. I even saw a deer jumping over the path last night. I even got Frank to join my on my walk for the first time.

A little glimpse of summer. The south of France is my happy place I keep going back to. But there are more little reminders of the world out there, of travel and summer, that I thoroughly enjoy. Like watching Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat with Samin Nosrat. Not only do I really want to try making my own Tahdig now but I also kept smiling throughout the whole show because they filmed episodes in Italy, Japan and Mexico. Just imagine walking across a citrus market in the Yucatan right now. Or making Pesto Genovese with an Italian nonna in a Ligurian castle. Maybe even learning how to make your own miso in a remote corner of Japan. There is so much longing within me at the moment. What made my virtual culinary travels even better was Netflix's Street Food series. I especially enjoyed the episodes from Bolivia and Mexico.

I May Destroy You. Different, and very relevant.

This year's Valentine's Day happened to be pretty rad. So I've exchanged the boring nerd I had been dating with an exciting artist from Colombia. John is a painter, a poet, photographer and filmmaker who gave me a Spanish copy of an Oscar Wilde book with a poem he had written for me. My cold and cynical German heart is not used to wooing on this level but I love it. On Sunday we walked through the English Garden and Schwabing in the sunshine, took photos, looked at some art and antiquarian bookshop windows. We saw two cats inside the cat café, bought fancy macarons at Maelu and just kept talking. I even found a few interesting books about dream interpretation on my way home. John has a reference to Kleist's tragedy Penthesilea tattooed on his collarbone - Küsse/Bisse ("das reimt sich, und wer recht von Herzen liebt, kann schon das eine für das andre greifen"). He is a Scorpio with impeccable taste and sends me songs he plays for me on the guitar / Cocteau Twins tunes upon waking up. I really needed this.

Having my students create English comics with Pixton. I love how much their avatars actually look like them! I hope they had fun, too.

The smell of cherry-flavoured candy wafting through the air.

Semolina pudding with banana. The subtle heat does something to the bananas; the combination is simply delicious.

I watched the first season of Chef's Table and was really impressed by Francis Mallmann. I admire his courage and lifestyle. The constant change he craves. The way he speaks foreign languages and just bravely does his very own, unique thing. I want to live like that, too.

A crystal clear view of the Orion constellation.

Very fine snow powder against the sunlight. As if it was raining glitter.

Feeling cool and confident. A fleeting feeling but it makes such a big difference.

When we practice forgiveness, we let go of shame. Embedded in our shame is always a sense of being unworthy. It separates. Compassion and forgiveness reconnect us. / reading bell hooks' all about love.

Mustering up enough motivation to go through all my stuff in the basement and put a few items on eBay. I'd been putting this off for years now.

I'm amazed how good my phone camera is. I took some pictures in the pitch-black forest and you can make out the moonlight on the path and even see star constellations on the photo.

Spending quality time with a cuddly kitty boi.

Blue corn quesadillas prepared for me by a bloody gorgeous Mexican metalhead.

Writing that message I should have written weeks ago (letting Simon know that I wasn't particularly  interested in dating him anymore).

Trolli burgers. The best gummy candy out there. Arguably the most fun. I love being able to disassemble my food and eat it layer by layer.

John's story about that acid trip on a boat somewhere in the ocean off the Colombian coast. They lay under the bright moonlight and were suddenly surrounded by Gray whales communicating with each other through song.

The spicy smell of a fresh, moist loaf of rye bread. Eating it with soured butter and salt.

The first snowdrops of the year.

Another one about the moon: walking home late one evening there was a lunar corona in the fog. I loved how the light illuminated my arms in that cool, white light.

The morning after the worst weekend in months or maybe even years (with both a mental breakdown and a medical emergency because misery loves company, eh?) Waking up early, pain-free. With a little spark of excitement and motivation. Just lying around for an hour in the darkness. Meditating. Falling back asleep for a little while. Getting up eventually, brushing my teeth and hair, painting my nails.

Painting more. Just experimenting with colour, intuitively. Without putting pressure on myself. The other night I painted with oil pastels and chalky pastel crayons while watching Dawson's Creek (I successfully avoided this series for 20 years and now, in my thirties, I start watching it?).

Bananas with nut butter, dark chocolate and sea salt.

Meditating with the blanket covering my nose. Breathing in fresh laundry smell.

Riding home from school with Anastasia, talking about diving adventures.

Reading Jill Heinerth's book Into the Planet. Her career as an explorer and cave diver is breathtakingly exciting. I couldn't put that memoir down. And it made me even more antsy. I'm really unhappy and bored right now - I wanna go out and learn something new, explore, live a little more.

Going to work without make-up. In the last ten or even fifteen years I put on make-up every single day I went to school. I'm done. Lockdown made me come to terms with the look of my bare face.

Learning about Antarctica cruises. It only takes about 24hours to reach the area from Argentina! I'd really love to go but the cruises are crazy expensive.

My house plants sprouting new leaves.

The moment the pain suddenly stops and you can breathe again.

Tropical breakfast. Banana, kiwi, mango, pineapple. And plain yoghurt. Decidedly non-tropical.

[tetrakys]

I’m here today to warn you all, my dear friends, about a serious matter that has been afflicting my country since the last month or so. Let this post be a warning of things to come for you and your country, and please save yourselves.

Behold the new face of obsession and guiltiest of pleasures:

Ferrero has recently released Nutella biscuits in Italy and the whole population has gone completely crazy. You won’t be able to find them anywhere because as soon as they come back in stock, they are already gone. In three weeks, 2.6 millions boxes have been sold. They have become so rare that prices are skyrocketing and sometimes they are sold with a 300% increase.

When I went back home last week I wanted to buy some and bring them back with me, but I found only ONE box (and I can consider myself lucky). I don’t know if they are already available abroad, definitely not in the UK, but if they aren't now, they will at some point.

So, people on tumblr, remember my words and heed my warning: as soon as you see these things on the shelves of your local stores buy them immediately, even if you don’t like chocolate (how dare you) you’ll be able to re-sell them with their weight worth in gold.

(Also send a box to me please because I’m dying here)

[lovemesomesurveys]

What is the title of the strangest book you own? I’ll just go with the book I just finished called, “Miss Polly had a Dolly” lol. May sound like a cutesy children’s book, but nooope. It’s a murder, mystery, suspense kind of book.

How often do you actually wake up in a good mood? I wake up feeling like a zombie.

What can we usually find you doing on a Friday night? Same thing I do every night. It’s just another day for me.

What would you say is your guiltiest pleasure? I like reality TV and celebrity gossip. 

Tell me all about your special lady/gentleman. I don’t have one.

What is the highest outdoor temperature you’ve ever had to endure? Like 115F. 

And the lowest? Low 20s, I think. It may have been a little lower. It was snowing and super cold, I know that. Certainly not where I live, though. The coldest it gets here is low 30s sometimes during the winter at night/early morning.

What is the funniest thing a child has ever said to you? Who knows. Kids are really random.

Do you let your pets on your furniture? My dog has her own couch completely to herself. She’s not allowed on the other couches, though.

Can you usually tell when someone has feelings for you? Probably not, it’s been so long.

What would you plant in your dream garden? I don’t have a dream garden. I don’t have an interest in gardening.

Do you believe in fairies, gnomes, or elves? No.

What is your favorite thing to cook for someone else? I don’t cook except for ramen, so I guess if someone wants that then I could haha. I’m the only one who eats it in my house, though. Well, the kind you cook on the stove anyway. I think it tastes way better than the kind you just add hot water to.

What’s the last thing you ate that was made with phyllo dough? After a quick Google search I can say that I’ve never had phyllo dough. 

Have you ever bought underwear simply because it made your underwear drawer look nice? Uh, no? I don’t care about how my underwear drawer looks, I buy what I find comfortable.

How do you feel about kettle cooked chips? I don’t like them.

What sort of things do you do when you have the entire evening to relax? So how do I spend every evening? Somedays I’m just waking up. :X In which case, I’m drinking coffee, checking my social medias, watching TV, and playing some Animal Crossing. If I got up earlier than that I’m still doing much of the same except I’ve probably finished my coffee or I’m just about done. 

Opinions on cold pizza? I used to like it when I was younger. I took leftover pizza for lunch in middle school and high school all the time. Not a fan anymore, though.

What’s been on your mind lately? I found out this past Thursday at my doctor appointment that I have a kidney stone in my right kidney and I haven’t stopped thinking of it since. It was discovered in the CT Scan I had done a couple weeks ago for my back. Ya know, the one I complained about and did NOT want to do? Good thing I did because who knows how long it would have gone unnoticed. I don’t know how long it’s been there, but it’s not one that will just pass. It’s going to take some kind of procedure, possibly surgery, and I’m terrified. I’ve never had a kidney stone before so I don’t know what to expect. Figures my first one is a bad one. :/ And in typical me fashion, I’ve started to feel crappy and some pain in that area ever since finding out. Like, it had been there for who knows how long but of course now I feel it. I’m hoping that doesn’t mean it’s actually gotten worse. I can’t get into my primary to get the necessary referrals until November 3rd and then who knows when I’ll get in to the see the specialist(s). I’m praying nothing happens between now and then that will require me going to the ER. I was a nervous wreck thinking they’d find something new and bad in my back, I was thinking of all these crazy scenarios, but I certainly hadn’t thought about my kidneys. Thankfully, there wasn’t anything new or scary going on in my back, just the stuff we already knew, so of course I’m glad about that. And a kidney stone, even one like this, can be treated and taken care of, so it’s not the worst thing (unless it gets left untreated and causes blockage...), but still. I’m scared and stressed and ugh.

Are you currently waiting for something to come in the mail? No. What makes your best friend the best? My mom just is the best. 

How do you go about cheering someone up? I’m really awkward about trying to do that lol. I never know what to do or say, especially in person. 

Would you ever consider visiting Texas? Uhhh maybe?

Have you ever been greatly dissatisfied with a haircut or dye-job? How did you react? No, honestly. Not at the time anyway. I’ve looked back at hairstyles I had and thought wtf but at the time I liked it lol.

When you drive - if you do - how do you hold the wheel? I don’t drive.

Who was the last person to turn you on? Haven’t felt that in a long time.

Who was the last person to turn you off? *shrug*

[overthinkingkdrama]

The Jona Awards: Kdrama 2019

Favorite Heroine

Jang Man Wol from Hotel Del Luna

***

There were other great heroines this year who were in much better dramas than HDL, but nobody who so completely defined and carried the whole drama as Man Wol. IU’s Ji An was my favorite of heroine, and this year feels like the natural continuation of her arc as a lead actress. It wouldn’t break my heart if IU occupied this space every year.

Runners Up: Cha Woo Kyung from Children of Nobody, Eun Dan Ho from Extraordinary You, Lee Eun Jung from Be Melodramatic, Kim Hye Ja from The Light In Your Eyes

Favorite Hero

Go Ji Seok from Catch the Ghost

***

For all the issues I ended up having with this drama in the last few weeks of its run, none of them had to do with Kim “Dimples” Sun Ho or the character of Ji Seok who hit the sweet spot of competent, righteous police officer and soft, affectionate boyfriend goals. His acting is on point. I really hope we see more lead roles from Kim Sun Ho in the future and his star keeps rising, rather than being forced to watch him descend back into second lead hell.

Runners Up: Hwi from My Country, Kang Ji Heon from Children of Nobody

Favorite OST

“Your Shampoo Scent in the Flowers” by Jang Beom June from Be Melodramatic

***

There was a lot of great music in dramas this year, but even if it’s kind of an expected pick I’ve just listened to this song so many times, and went so far as to write the lyrics out on my fridge so I could practice singing along. I love the original version best, but the ballad and actor sung versions are great too. It’s just a great tune and a real earworm.

Runners Up: “The Street You Left” by Liver and Gallbladder from When the Devil Calls Your Name; Basic the whole OST from When the Devil Calls Your Name actually; “WOW” by Mamamoo from Search: WWW

Guiltiest Pleasure

The Last Empress

***

I can’t believe this drama finished airing in February. It feels like a long time ago in another life that I watched this with my roommate, cringing and laughing myself sick all the way through. Maybe it’s because this drama feels like it was ripped from a different decade. Jang Na Ra seems to be in a different drama than everyone else, one that’s way better than this one. There’s something just so absurd and delicious about this drama. Good for watching with friends and booze on hand.

Bitterest Disappointment

Catch The Ghost

***

I became totally obsessed with this drama during the first half of the run. It didn’t get picked up by any of the major streaming sites I use and it didn’t have a big following, but I was all over social media trying to find content and conversation about this show. After the first 6 episodes or so I really thought this one was going to end up in my top 10 this year, if not my top 5. Alas, it didn’t turn out that way. This drama has major writing problems. The central couple and their arcs are solid and well acted by the leads. However, what passes for the murder mystery is so thin and convoluted, and it completely takes over the drama for much of the last two weeks, rendering episodes 14 and 15 nearly unwatchable. I still adore the lead couple and think they have amazing chemistry, overall they saved the drama for me. That’s why it didn’t make it onto my worst list. It’s really sad, though, to have to rate down a drama you really liked because major writing flaws meant it couldn’t stick the ending.

Runners Up: The Lies Within, Arthdal Chronicles, Memories of the Alhambra

Best Friendship

Eun Jung, Jin Joo and Han Joo in Be Melodramatic

***

Of all the dramas I watched this year, this one made me feel the best, made me feel genuine joy whenever I watched it. I found the three leads delightfully funny, inspiring, and relatable. Easily one of the best portrayals of female friendship this year, and my personal favorite.

Runner Up: Dong Baek and Hyang Mi in When the Camellia Blooms

Best Kiss

Ja In and Yi Kang in Nokdu Flower

***

There were a lot of good kisses this year, and many of them were much flashier and steamier than this one. But the reason this one stuck out in my mind was because of the conviction with which the actors pulled it off. It came at the perfect moment of tension for the characters and the story, and it’s just beautifully shot.

Runners Up: Park Bench Kiss from One Spring Night; 11th Hour Kiss from Catch the Ghost

Most Cathartically Makjang

SKY Castle

It took me a while to get around to this one, and I thought I might just skip it. I didn’t expect it to blow up as much as it did in Korea, nor to have such a positive reception in the West. When I did watch it I watched it fast, this drama is very addictive. Though the ending was a bit of an anticlimax in my opinion, I’m sorry I waited so long to try it. Also, as someone who loves a while variety of twisted psychos in her fiction, this drama has one of the most unique and fascinating villains I’ve run across.

Runner Up: The Last Empress

Villain I Most Loved To Hate

Nam Jeon from My Country

***

Not a lot to add here. Ahn Nae Sang is incredible, and he made me seriously contemplate stabbing a fictional character every time he was on screen.

Messiest Plot

When the Devil Calls Your Name

***

This drama had ambition, and I respect that. However, I don’t think it was well enough thought out or well enough executed to pull off what it was attempting. That’s a shame, because it could have been a really interesting Faust-type story if it could have remained a little more focused and really fleshed out Ha Rip and the central relationships rather than running hither and yon with all that confusing world building.

Runner Up: Memories of the Alhambra, Catch the Ghost

Please Make Another Drama Together

Jeon Yeo Bin and Seon Seok Ku

***

These two beautiful weirdos play off each other so very well in Be Melodramatic, even though their scenes were sparse and only started deep into the drama’s run, they left a huge impact on me. I could have easily watched a whole drama just about them, and I would love to see them work on a project together again someday.

Runners Up: Kim Sun Ho and Moon Geun Young, Seo Kang Joon and Kim Hyun Joo

Best Korean Movie

Parasite

***

I didn’t watch a lot of films this year, but I made it a point see this one. Probably the least controversial pick I could have possibly made. I’m glad this movie has blown up internationally, and the 6 Oscar nominations it got are so very deserved. I feel like I need to rewatch this 6 or 7 times to really appreciate it.

Best Screen Couple

Yang Se Jang and Woo Do Hwan in My Country

***

I agonized about this pick for a number of reasons. There were a lot of romantic couples that I felt for strongly this year, and I nearly gave this pick to one of them, but none of them quite had the gut-punch intensity of these two. Though this is technically not a canon pairing, this drama has a palpable underlying homoeroticism throughout. Emotionally and structurally this plays out like a lurid, tragic romance between these two and the leads carry it off so perfectly I find it impossible to believe that that’s unintentional.

Runners Up: Moon Geun Young and Kim Sun Ho in Catch The Ghost; Jung Hae In and Han Ji Min in One Spring Night