#it's rarely a separate room it's usually just a small area

[nordic-language-love]

english has a perfectly good word for shinkansen (bullet train) and yet no english speakers here seem to use it they literally all just say shinkansen

[bugboybuck]

For your consideration! Bucktommy prompt: zoo date (your url made me want Buck going to the insect house and Tommy smiling helplessly as his man infodumps)

"Babe! Holy shit, look, they have Madagascan hissing cockroaches now!"

Evan's voice echoes across the insect house; they've spent most of the day linked by the hand, Evan dragging Tommy around with the confidence of a man who's spent way too many hours at this zoo to need a map anymore, but they'd finally separated when Evan made such a beeline to some kind of beloved tarantula in the dark, humid little cave that is the bug area that Tommy had refused to keep up. And, look, Tommy isn't scared of bugs, but he's also not going to pretend he can muster the same enthusiasm Evan can for small slimy wriggling things with way too many legs.

"Is that right?" Tommy says, as he eyes the tanks on either side of the walls warily. He opts for staying as dead-centre of the room as he can as he winds his way over to Evan, catching his boyfriend around the waist in front of a large tank full of - yep, those look like giant cockroaches alright. Tommy swallows.

"They didn't have these last time I was here," Evan tells him. One of his hands catches Tommy's on his waist and squeezes it, while the other gestures enthusiastically to the tank. "Do you know they're one of the only kinds of cockroach without wings?"

"I did not know that," Tommy says. "Well, I guess that's one point in their favour. I hate when those fuckers fly."

"Why? It's actually really fascinating how their wings work-" Evan seems to forget his own ramble in favour of another one as he leans a bit closer to the tank, dragging Tommy with him by the arms. "Actually, hissing cockroaches are kind of dope. Do you know they can reproduce both asexually and sexually? But they usually choose to do it sexually. I guess they prefer it."

"Sex fiends, huh? Reminds me of someone I know." Evan pinches his wrist and Tommy grumbles, "Ow."

"And the females carry their young internally! Sort of like being pregnant with an extra step, I guess? That's pretty rare for insects!"

There's a pause for a moment. Tommy plays with Evan's fingers and thinks about how there's not many men he would ever have voluntarily looked at cockroaches for, and how Evan's brain is an adorable, enthusiastic trap for facts about anything at all, and how Evan's love for the natural world is just like his miraculous ability to be fond of even the ugliest things in life. The urge to ask Evan to move in with him forever like, way too soon into their relationship is nearly overwhelming, as it often seems to be these days.

Then Evan says, "You know, they're actually a pretty popular exotic pet, you only need a tank and some terrain they can climb-"

"Ooookay why don't we go look at the penguins now," Tommy says, and drags Evan away before he can get any ideas.

[sleepymarimo]

𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕖

summary: after a harsh fight, you take care of an injured zoro. he is reminded of why he adores you, while also being reminded of why now is not the right time. pairing: zoro x fem!reader tags: mutual pining, bittersweet, not a lot of dialogue! just being sweet and tending to a touch-starved swordsman cw: injuries, blood

Zoro's arm is slung around your shoulders, his weight pressed to your side. The grip you have on his waist helps keep him more stable as you lead him towards the bath, ready to tend to his injuries.

You're not entirely in the best of shape either, but you wouldn't even think about resting until he was okay.

The bathing area of the infirmary is quite lavish, you have to admit, your eyes wandering to the amenities. The white tile floors reflect the lights which line the ceiling, the faint smell of antiseptic lingering in the air. A large tub sits against the wall, a wooden bench just next to it.

Your grip around Zoro's waist tightens as you lead him to the bench, slowly lowering to help him sit. A gruff exhale leaves him once he sits down, his legs trembling slightly even as he settles. Wordlessly, you detach yourself from him and stand up straight before reaching for the faucet. The sound of running water echoes throughout the empty bathing room, a haze of steam slowly starting to settle in the air.

While the tub fills, you take a moment to scan the rest of the room. There's a shower adjacent to the tub, a tile wall separating the two. In the other corner of the bathroom is a large closet, which you make your way towards. The wooden door opens with a slight creak, revealing an assortment of towels, white yukatas, soaps and medical supplies.

You hum to yourself, impressed by the display.

After grabbing the supplies you need, you walk back to the swordsman and set the items down on the other side of the wooden bench he sits on. He's watched your every move, adamant on making sure you didn't leave his sight. You could feel his stare, but brushed it off.

One of your hands twists open the cap of a new bottle of soap, pouring a couple capfuls into the almost full tub. The scent of cucumber and mint wafts in the air as you shut the water off, a few droplets sneaking into the tub as you finally focus your attention back on Zoro.

He’s utterly exhausted. Even with your healing, it’s clear that he just needs to be tended to at the moment. The vulnerability that currently sneaks past his steel gaze tells you all you need to know. He’s your nakama, your vice captain, and right now, he needs you.

You don’t have to be told twice.

Your gaze flickers from him, to his swords. His hand rests on his Wado, gripping the hilt a little tighter before relaxing and releasing it altogether. Wrapping your hands around the scabbards of his three prized possessions, you cradle them them as they were gifts. You place them on another wooden bench nearby, keeping them close.

When you return to him, its to help him take off his remaining clothes. You kneel before him and remove his boots, then aid him in standing so you could gently tug his trousers off of his form. His clothes stick to him, glued to his skin by sweat and dried blood.

Once he’s bare, you give him the support he needs to step into the soothing waters. Your gaze never leaves his face as he settles into the tub with a slight grunt, brows furrowing when the hot water brings a delightful sting to his fresh wounds.

His arms rest on the rim of the tub while he leans back and basks in the water, his head slightly tilted upwards as if he can’t bother to hold it upright. The exhale he releases seems to rumble in his chest. He makes the tub look small with his large frame, his muscles still twitching from overuse.

When his eye opens and meets yours, he nods. His expression carries it’s usual gruffness, but you’ve known him long enough to tell that he’s grateful to have a familiar face with him. Your intuition, rarely wrong, tells you that there was more to his battle- something beyond physical, which is plaguing him.

You return the nod and grab one of the small face towels, dunking it in the hot water before applying some soap to it. Kneeling beside the tub, you start to gently run the towel over his arms, then chest.

It’s a relatively silent exchange, the only sounds echoing off the walls being the splash of water against the tub and his occasional groans as your hands worked over the more tender areas on his skin. The water, once clear, is tainted with blood and dirt. In between washes, you end up having to refill the tub.

You pick up another face towel, a pile of dirtied ones sitting beside you.

The scent of soap fills his nostrils as you work the towel along his jaw and cheeks. He lets out a raspy sigh, his eye fluttering closed at the sensation. Your eyes take in the features of his face, his strong jaw and the scar along his left eye. He’s relaxed at the moment, his features softened.

The bath ends once you finish washing his hair. You refill the bath with hot water once more, giving him the opportunity to relax for a bit. A soft sigh tumbles past your lips as you get off your knees, sitting on the slightly moist tile floor.

Your own wounds are catching up to you, your bloodied clothes sticking to your skin and adding to your discomfort. Any thoughts you have are quelled by the heaviness of your limbs and the intoxicating scent of the soap which still lingers in the air.

Zoro’s head is angled to the side, his gaze focused on you.

He appreciates your help, your ability to put others first despite your own physical wounds and emotional hardships. It’s something he’s seen time and time again on the ship and on the battlefield. You show how much you care for the crew everyday, in ways he can’t fathom. He’s a man of action, using his strength to protect his nakama and revealing little else.

Your approach is different, tending to the crews needs with a smile and showing them a warmth that he could never. Whether it’s sneaking meat onto Luffy’s plate, coddling Chopper, helping Franky in the workshop, or even bringing him water as he trains in the observation room… your actions don’t go unnoticed by the swordsman.

Your selflessness and dedication to the crew, your caring nature, patience and strong heart… they’re just some of the traits that make him absolutely adore you.

When he realized that you may have taken a liking to him, as more than a friend, his heart stirred with equal parts of longing and fear.

It didn’t help that you were adamant on putting the crew first, ensuring that your feelings didn’t get in the way of your goals and ambitions. The actions you took to keep your feelings under wraps served you well. However, it was the energy you exuded that gave you away to the swordsman. His senses were quick to make note of the subtle shifts in your aura when he was near. Hints of admiration and anticipation emanated from you like tendrils, reaching for him.

For the past few months, the two of you danced the same dance, treading lightly every time you sparred or shared a drink. It was an unspoken thing, a connection that revealed itself through shared glances and lingering presences.

He knew why you didn’t speak up about it, since it was the same reason he didn't. A part of him almost wishes that you did, so he’d have more reason to shut his own feelings down.

The path of a swordsman is a lonely one, leaving no room for personal relationships and the luxuries that came with it. He’s dedicated his life to his goal, to become the greatest and strongest. Every scar on his body is a testament to that, yet he can’t shake the longing that consumes him every time you offer him a sweet smile or cover him on the battlefield. The fact that you're willing to push your own feelings aside for his sake strikes a chord in him, only making him want to get closer.

Zoro doesn’t want you to waste your potential. The strength you carry shouldn’t be hindered by your feelings, the what ifs and the other uncertainties. Your goals and ambitions are just as important to him as they are to you, and he'd be damned if he got in the way.

He is someone who focuses on the past and present, not bothering to worry about what isn't in front of him. Yet, he can't stop wondering what a future would be like with you.

This, he decides, isn't something that can go unignored between the two of you.

His body moves on its own, one of his hands reaching out and palming your chin. The hot water makes his touch even more soothing as he gently squishes your cheeks with his calloused hand, just enough to get you to open your eyes.

Your eyes lock with his, attentive yet laced with tiredness and an affection that you can't find yourself to conceal.

He says your name, his voice low and gravelly. Such things aren’t his strong suit. Though his expression is hardened, his brows slightly furrowed in a concentrated stare, the sound of his heartbeat thunders in his ears.

“You know why we can’t do this now, right?” He asks roughly, trying and failing to speak with tenderness.

You have to swallow down the lump in your throat, finding solace in the gentle grip he has on your chin. It’s no use concealing your nerves, your tone holding a hint of acceptance. “Yeah, I know.”

He hums in response, studying you for a second. His eye take you in, his hand feeling the softness of your cheeks. He can feel the heat emanating from them, your body’s natural response to being so close to him.

His next words are spoken as if they’re an order, a demand, though the look in his eye tells you that he’s pleading for your acceptance.

“Wait for me.”

Your eyes widen in response, your lips parting as you grapple with the weight of his words. He wants you, as you want him. It takes a second for you overcome the feeling of your rapidly beating heart and flipping stomach, your eyes holding a mixture of happiness and longing.

“Of course I will.” You affirm, your voice steady and sure. The confirmation of his feelings, his unwavering determination all cause a stir in your chest.

His face relaxes, his thumb rubbing light circles on your cheek. His expression still carries one of seriousness, though there’s a hint of affection in his gaze that can’t be hidden.

“That’s my girl.” He grumbles warmly, his hand gently pulling your face towards his.

You sigh in relief, shifting your body so your face can easily lean into his. Both of your gazes become half-lidded, until they close altogether once your lips connect.

The kiss is soft and warm, providing the two of you with a blanket of reassurance. It serves as a promise, a reminder and another reason to keep fighting. In the confines of the steam filled room, you get a glimpse of what the future between you and your swordsman will hold.

And you can’t wait.

[slasher-dasher]

Vincent

︶꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

Starry, starry night

Candles lit up the area around him, flickering like the stars he hadn’t seen in who knows how many days now. The smell of wax invaded his nostrils more than usual as he poured the melted material over his latest piece of art. Bo had delivered her to the workshop himself, stomping down the steps with the proudest smile on his face before leaving her in the care of his twin.

Flaming flowers that brightly blaze

Vincent wasn’t sure if she had passed out or had suffocated from the hardening wax around her face, but he did notice that at some point she had closed her eyes. It was a shame. Vincent had liked the way her hazel eyes danced like the candlelight, flicking between his face and the brush in his hands. She had tried to reach for it at first. Not in an attempt to escape, but in an attempt to get his attention. Vincent tilted his head, taking in every detail he could as she tried to speak. The colors in her iris exploded in a pattern that made him think of sunflowers. His mother always loved that painting.

Swirling clouds in violet haze

He carried the weight of two titles, both passed onto him by his mother. Artist. One that was semi-forced into his blood. He liked watching her swirl the wax in her molds, delicately carving them to seamlessly match the rest of her sculptures. How many times had Vincent wished she would look at her children like those sculptures? He remembered the day she put a brush in his hand after he had pointed at her tools. It hadn’t ended well. Shaking his head, he brought his attention back to the girl on his table. The artist ran his brush over a fresh, purple bruise on her wrist, hiding the imperfection from any ghostly prying eyes.

Reflect in Vincent’s eyes of china blue

Vincent. After Van Gogh himself, his mother’s favorite artist. She had always adored art while growing up, but his paintings always inspired her to create when there was no other option. And here he was, continuing her legacy while starting his own. Bo had worked out the plan years before the boys found their way back to Ambrose, never stopping until he found the two again. Maybe the name was fitting. Two men with loving brothers who, deep down, knew they would do anything for. Two tragic artists with no one to listen to them. Two people with the same name, same signature, same occupation, in separate times. Vincent found it ironic.

Colors changing hue

The artist placed his tools on the rolling shelf nearby, taking a match to light some of the lesser-used candles. Waterfalls of wax dripped onto the floor, pooling at his feet with a few rusty nails he had yet to shove into another makeshift clock. While the wax dried, he gently moved her wrists and ankles into the restraints on the worktable, careful not to break the layers he’d already worked on. This was a rare sight for him. Someone who hadn’t tried to fight from the moment she came to town, just accepting that there just so happened to be a wax museum not far from where her car had broken down. It was obvious his twin hadn’t done much before bringing her down here, at most he had wrapped her wrists a little too tightly in that wretched chair before he glued her lips together. Lips that had become pale and chapped from the chill of the basement, now full of faux life again. All because of his craft. Vincent pulled a small tube of lipstick from the girl’s bag, another rare sight since Bo usually took them for the wallet before getting rid of them. The tube was set aside to be put in a much smaller batch of wax to be melted later. He would honor her color choice, it was common enough to do so.

Morning fields of amber grain

The sculpture’s eyes shot open again as a fresh layer of hot wax poured onto her torso, untouched by the substance until now. They scanned the room in a panic, realization finally setting in as the flowers in her eyes became blurry with tears. The extra light made the green halos around the edge of her iris appear almost yellow, distorting them further as the flames danced. Vincent worked quickly now, muscle memory taking over as he just tried to get this over with. His method worked, he knew this, but it still shocked him how fast pain and adrenaline could cancel each other out in the human mind. She took a few deep, desperate breaths from under the wax face, feeling hot rushes of air that did little to soothe her fear. Her eyes shot to Vincent, pleading and full of life that was snuffed out far too fast for his liking. They closed, hidden from the world for the moment, and he instinctively lowered his head.

Weathered faces lined in pain

Sleep deprivation was starting to get to him just as the heavy doors of the museum crashed open again, followed by familiar loud barking. Dinner time. Lester had likely been sent to get him, which meant Bo was in a bad mood. Then again, Jonesy wouldn’t be with him at this time if he didn’t already have food in tow. Vincent guided his hand over the girl’s eyes, opening them one last time now that they couldn’t be closed again. The artist sighed, taking off his apron to hang on a spare hook before climbing the stairs into the museum. He glanced around at his artwork, some of the newer additions glancing back at him. Vincent guided his hand over each sculpture, wondering if they knew how important they were to this town. A happy bark brought him out of his trance, not realizing he had accidentally cracked the wax of the man as he jumped. Jonesy happily trotted up to him, wagging her tail as he leaned down to pet her before following her to where Lester stood, admiring the House of Wax in all its unsung glory. The trio made their way back to their rundown home, Vincent dragging his fingers across the heavy wax door as he locked it in a silent promise to return.

Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand.

Song - Vincent by Don McLean

[another-lost-mc]

Where would your ocs live in? A big mansion? Or maybe just a cozy cabin? Or perhaps they're sharing a room/home with someone else?

Oh those are great questions!

Most of the demon OCs live alone except for Belial who has some live-in staff that take care of the property's upkeep. The other exception is the living situation between Azra, Meta, and Zee in The Fall's AU story.

The angels all live together, but also somewhat separately, and that requires a bit more detail to explain.

As for the types of houses they live in...

DEMONS

Ranking their general house size, from largest to smallest:

Belial

Azra

Tenebris

Fleurety

Zee

Azra lives in a large house near the edge of one of the Devildom’s forests. It’s not a gigantic mansion but it’s far bigger than one demon really needs. Back when he was still climbing the realm’s social ladder, he hosted a lot of parties and social gatherings. He avoids hosting events like that now if he can. His favourite room is probably his private library that displays the Celestial Realm books and weapons he's collected and preserved over the years.

Zee lives in a modest house in a quiet neighbourhood of the Devildom metropolis, close enough to both The Fall and to Azra's estate that the commute doesn't annoy him too much. It used to be a cottage that he’s modernized over time. His favourite room is the kitchen because he enjoys cooking. He doesn’t entertain often; strangers or mere acquaintances generally aren’t invited for casual visits.

Belial lives in a sprawling estate known as Abriymoch, and most of his trusted underlings live in the area as well. It’s sort of like it’s own neighbourhood in the northern part of the Devildom and anyone passing through knows not to cause trouble unless they want to answer to him later. He rarely hosts parties and prefers to keep his living space away from the public eye. (He’s a little paranoid about anything in his private collection being stolen or damaged.)

Tenebris lives in an old house on land owned by the royal family and given to him by his father. It’s made largely of stone so he’s worked hard to make it comfortable as his permanent residence after he left the Demon Lord’s Castle for good. While the house isn't huge, the property itself is substantial with a large garden where he grows his own herbs and other potion ingredients. The property is protected by various magical spells so unwanted guests are easily deterred.

Fleurety lives in a decent-sized house that's practical more than luxurious. It's within walking distance of RAD and the Royal Library where he spends most of his time. He stays late at the school to work on his projects while the campus is mostly empty; any scandalous experiments he's definitely not doing are carried out exclusively in his basement where he maintains a private lab.

ANGELS

(This probably deserves its own post since it relies heavily on my personal worldbuilding headcanons for the Celestial Realm.)

The angels live together within the various dormitories of the Celestial Halls. Most of the angels’ rooms are assigned based on rank and clusters of angels share the nearby lounges and dining hall. Seraphs have larger rooms with more space since they usually have a small office or study as well as a private bathroom.

The dormitories within the Celestial Halls are neatly sectioned and each rank (or group of ranks living together) have their own little design quirks and aesthetic charm that makes them visually unique (and therefore different) from the others. Metatron is the only Seraph whose living quarters are in a completely different part of the building. He still uses the Seraphs’ private dining room to eat with them at meal times (assuming he stops working long enough to bother going over in the first place).

THE FALL AU DIFFERENCES

It's worth mentioning how Metatron's fall from grace alongside Azra impacts their living situation in the Devildom. Without getting too far into the weeds:

Meta lives in a secluded, woodsy cottage on the outskirts of the Devildom metropolis.

Zee's house is still in the central Devildom area but it's bigger (two or three floors instead of one ground level).

[tf2fansderogatory]

guys hear me out. if the mercs were tf2 animatronics what would their mechanics be

my guy you just gave me an entire AU idea

RED and BLU are rival entertainment companies, both build animatronics that perform at restaurant locations and can be rented, FNAF-style. their animatronics are so similar that one *has* to be ripping off the other, but nobody knows which is the original and which is the copy so people just pick which one they go to based on the color scheme and aesthetic

Scout has two main functions; waiter/server, and entertainer via sports. he has impeccable balance and sure footing, making him perfect for carrying plates and other dishes across a room filled with rambunctious, running children. when it comes to entertaining, he has an entire portion of his memory bank dedicated to just about every major sport in existence. his AI’s pretty good in that if the kids don’t understand some of the rules for a game, he can easily roll with it and come up with rule modifications on the spot to make sure the games are as fun as possible. normal racing is a popular game, especially since Scout’s fast. a lot faster than he lets on.

Solly works as one of multiple story-teller bots, specializing in exciting, action-filled stories- 9 times out of 10, war ones. when he was being built, the poor engineer/mechanic/all-around technician (Miss Pauling) was too sleep deprived to come up with many ideas beyond war stories. Soldier also promotes general physical health, and will usually run through “training exercises” (fit for kids) with everyone in the room after the story is over. a lot of the parents think that only the boys would like Soldier and some of them actively discourage their daughters from visiting him but they’re DUMB. at least half of the crowd of yelling, confidence-boosted cadets is eager young girls raring to fight and prove that they can do anything the boys can. sometimes the kids’ll form teams and play-fight/do a mock war. Solly makes sure that nobody gets injured and everyone knows how to “fight” without actually hurting someone. he knows how to do it perfectly, after all.

Pyro does arts and crafts, sometimes with Demo or Engie. they also, by nature of their mute design, encourage kids to be more understanding of people who don’t talk for whatever reason, which then carries over to being more understanding of anyone not like them. Pyro’s room is by far the most colorful; walls painted like Pyroland, cork boards absolutely littered in drawings the kids have given them, the shelves in his personal room (basically a closet where he goes to deactivate at the end of the day) filled with trinkets the kids made. their room is also connected to a small outside area with a fire pit. it’s nice for kids to relax with him and just watch the fire go. he even has a built-in lighter function in his hands, so he can start up a fire whenever.

Demo is also a story-teller, but his story genres are mystery and mythological/paranormal. he has a specialized voice box that lets him make sound effects, but so that they still sound like a human imitating the sound. his room is one of the most popular ones, though he prefers to wander around the establishment instead of sit in his room when he’s not telling stories. he helps out Pyro with arts and crafts, occasionally, but another way he likes to spend time with the kids is by showing off the medieval weapons (models) he has, and the kids always find it cool. it’s a rather large collection, and the models are quite…accurate.

Engie is, just like his normal tf2 counterpart, good at just about everything and pretty overworked. if animatronics could get stress headaches, he would, although mostly because of his desire to get all of his jobs done perfectly all at once. the jobs in question are musical entertainment, assistant cook, helping with arts and crafts, and helping with maintenance after the place is closed. he can play any strummed string instrument, and has a separate voice box just for singing. he also has extensive knowledge of the inner workings most of the electronic systems in the building; lights, sound systems, fire suppression- but not security. the company doesn’t want to risk him going haywire or getting some kind of malware and then letting thieves and such in. Engie also has an issue with his programming for talking to adults- the speech part of his ai is lacking in that department, so he tends to pull from what he knows for talking to kids, which used to make him come across as condescending at times. by now, though, he’s tweaked it and managed to perfect that polite, disarming tone of voice. he’s very good at it.

Heavy and Sniper’s rooms are connected and are the two designated “quiet rooms”. Heavy also reads to/with the kids and Sniper also tells nature stories, but for the most part they just keep a calm environment. kids with sensory issues, kids who get overstimulated, and even just kids who want to take a nap come to their rooms. there’s plenty of differently textured stuff available if someone needs to ground themselves or just wants to feel a certain texture. as for Heavy and Sniper themselves, they’re very calm and keep their voices low. Sniper makes sure everyone’s doing alright and doesn’t need anything, and Heavy deals with kids that are getting too loud or rambunctious (he’ll guide them out of the room and give them a gentle scolding, then let them back in if they promise to behave). if, for whatever reason, a parent is the one causing the issue, it’s still rather easy to get the parent out of the room(s), especially considering the strength of the two

Medic is the first aid bot, of course. the are a handful of different first aid stations around the building, with buttons to call Medic to them if he’s not there already. something went a little wrong with his personality coding, making him that unhinged man we all know and love, but he’s surprisingly good with kids and filtering what he says to not disturb them. the kids adore him. like Engie, though, he has issues interacting with adults- but instead of pulling from kid interaction info and coming off as condescending, Medic goes off of default, bland, robot interaction and ends up being just…creepy. short, curt speech, a lot of staring (with eyes that are far too observant and watching to be comfortable), and over time it goes from creepy and emotionless to creepy and somewhat hostile. it’s clear he’d rather be anywhere but around the adult. if one is being very insistent on talking to him, he’ll take to tidying up the nearest first aid station, giving a few…specific tools a rather thorough cleaning.

Spy, on the other hand, deals entirely with adults. he greets people at the door, and ensures the adults are at the very least comfortable while their kids have fun. most people question why his face was designed the way it was (with a mask), but…he’s calm, sophisticated, charming, the perfect animatronic for the job and honestly a good conversationalist. so nobody ever bothers to ask. it’s just a design choice, after all. Spy’s second function is assistant security, which has two parts of its own. the first is if a kid gets lost in the admittedly very large building. he’s the one who tracks them down and guides them back to their guardian. the second is helping the night shift guards when the place is closed. on most nights, he just patrols with them and takes care of any issues by following normal protocol. sometimes, though, he can convince the guards to go home and get some rest, and he and some (or all) of the other bots patrol. if someone tries to break in on one of those nights, well…you weren’t expecting to break into the home of nine sentient, semi-malfunctioning robots and get out, were you ?

[kultavalo]

So in the interest of exposure I've decided I'm also gonna start posting my fics right here on Tumblr. I'll still be posting them on AO3 as well under the same username as here!

Summary: The keys to the bus were missing, the crew was nowhere to be found, and Jake and Danny had slept through their alarm.

Tags: Jake x Danny, fluff, slight angst if you squint, established relationship.

The Suite Life of Jake and Danny

Word count: 3.8k

All of their luggage was standing in the lobby of the hotel.

Suitcases and backpacks, all neatly packed and labelled for their next stop, professionally stacked together on hotel trolleys.

Checkout would be soon. Technically they were ready to leave. Josh and Sammy had left earlier than necessary, using the extra time to briefly explore this new city they had found themselves in and no doubt making a mad dash to find and buy the most ridiculous souvenirs available for their mom and dad, a tradition they had started when they began touring outside of their home state.

Jake and Danny however, had slept in.

Most of the tour they would simply sleep on their bus, having grown accustomed to the coffin like bunks and the gentle swaying of the road a long time ago.

Hotel nights were rare, so when the opportunity finally presented itself, they intended to make good use of it.

It wasn't just the being able to sprawl out on a queen sized bed, or the luxury of turning around in the shower and not immediately smacking into a door or wall. It was also the privacy.

Jake and Danny had been together since the early days of the band, when they still travelled in a shitty sprinter van, curling up together between guitar cases and drum kits and two more brothers.

They were used to the close quarters and the lack of alone time. They were fine with it.

But that didn't mean they didn't revel in the little quiet moments of alone time.

A shared bed instead of two separate cramped bunks, a steady rise and fall of sleepy breaths shared in the same space, the little quiet sweet nothings whispered into the crook of a neck without the exaggerated exclamations of disgust from the other two band members. It was nice.

So nice in fact that they had both slept through their alarms.

Waking up half an hour before checkout, already having missed breakfast. Abandoning the sweet and serene morning they had hoped for and instead scrambling half awake through a far too dark hotel room because neither of them were quite awake enough to realise grabbing their clothes and shoving their stuff into bags would be much easier if one of them opened the curtains.

They had made it downstairs on time at least.

Bleary eyed and slightly dishevelled they handed their room key back to the hotel clerk and filled out the mandatory documents and satisfaction rating.

Placing their luggage next to Josh and Sam's already awaiting trunks they sat down in the little lounge area in the lobby, blinking against the sunlight streaming through the floor to ceiling windows and slowly trying to wake up.

Jake and Danny had formed the habit not to be too overly affectionate in public. They weren't exactly hiding anything but you never knew who was watching.

Today however, sitting together in a practically empty hotel lobby after not having been able to indulge in their usual comfortable quiet morning, Danny had decided he really couldn't care less who saw them and simply snuggled against Jake's side.

Even though he was almost a full head taller and the many years of pounding away at the drums had transformed his skinny arms and back into hard lean muscle, Danny always felt soft and small when Jake held him like this. His head resting on the shorter man's chest, legs tucked up on the couch, both of his arms encircling Jake's waist while Jake's arm was comfortably draped across his shoulder.

They sat like that in warm comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying being close to each other. Jake's hand had moved to the top of Danny's head, absentmindedly combing his fingers through the dark curls that were still slightly tangled with sleep, softly getting the knots out and combing some stray strands away from Danny's face.

Danny in return had found a gap between the edge of Jake's pants and the hem of his shirt and lazy drew invisible patterns with his fingers on the few inches of soft exposed skin, silently noting how Jake's hips had recently filled out a bit more and loving the feeling of the little extra give when he gently squeezed him there.

Time ticked by slowly, sunbeams played through the yellow autumn leaves outside and silently danced across the coffee table in front of them. After the rushed wake up and subsequent packing frenzy Danny was still happy they could have this cosy moment together. He felt like he could drift right back to sleep like this, his cheek pressed against Jake's warm skin, listening to his calm and steady heartbeat, feeling the soft rise and fall of his chest with every breath. This was bliss.

When Jake's soft voice rumbled low out of his chest it actually startled Danny a little bit. It seemed he had actually drifted back to sleep after all and therefore hadn't really registered what Jake had said, just that he had spoken.

"Sorry, what was that?" He mumbled as he rubbed at his eyes and lightly cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the sleep that still seemed to cling to his vocal cords.

"I said, do you wanna start loading our stuff onto the bus? It's getting kinda late and knowing Josh and Sammy they won't get back until the exact second we have to leave, so if we're already fully packed it should be easier to head out."

Danny nodded as he sat up a little straighter, still trying to fight off the tiredness that had gripped him so heavily.

"Yeah, that's probably smart." He replied, now sitting up fully and untangling his hands from Jake's waist. Before he could entirely retreat from the embrace, Jake gently held his right wrist in place for a moment.

Danny looked up at his warm brown eyes, eyes that even after all these years still looked at him with so much love and adoration it still sprouted butterflies in his stomach.

" And if we have the bus packed and ready before they come back we can call dibs on the master bedroom tonight." Jake said with a mischievous smile.

Danny smiled back at him with that same glint in his eye.

Their tour bus was a pretty standard two floor model. It came equipped with a downstairs living area, a small kitchen and dining booth, a toilet, an upstairs lounge, bathroom, six bunks and one fully outfitted master bedroom.

The master bedroom was usually just used for storage, none of them feeling quite comfortable claiming the extra space when the others were still confined to their small bunks.

They still used it sometimes, the king sized bed was a great place to all cuddle up together for movie nights or to give a little more privacy when Sammy's girlfriend or Josh's boyfriend happened to travel along for a few stops.

But Jake and Danny rarely claimed it for themselves.

They knew Josh and Sammy didn’t mind them being together, hell, when they had twirled around each other at the start of their relationship, endlessly playing the game of ‘will they won’t they’ Josh had eventually resorted to direct action.

Fed up with the endless frustration of seeing his twin giggle and blush whenever Danny gave him the slightest bit of attention, only then to sulk like a moody teen whenever he turned his attention to anyone else, Josh had roped Sammy into his conspiracy to finally put an end to this maddening cycle so they could actually focus on their band in earnest.

It hadn’t quite been kidnapping, technically.

Josh and Sammy had lured the two lovestruck idiots out to the shed in the garden under the guise of showing them the cool acoustic properties the tiny building held, and had unceremoniously shoved them inside as quickly as possible and bolted the door shut behind them.

Jake and Danny had immediately started protesting as soon as they realised what had happened, but all they got in return was Sammy laughing his head off as Josh yelled “You two are either gonna fuck or kill each other, I really don’t care at this point but just make it fucking stop!” through the gaps in the wood of the closed door.

It took them four hours.

They didn’t actually fuck, it was still far too early for that, but when Josh finally relented and opened the door (mainly after their mother had found out what he had done and had given him a stern talking to), Jake and Danny did walk out of the shed as a couple.

All that however didn’t mean that they were exactly comfortable with Josh and Sammy over hearing their more intimate moments. The master bedroom provided them with a bit more privacy, sure. But the aluminium door was hardly sound proof. Experience had taught them that at least.

They got up from the hotel lobby couch and started manoeuvring the trolley that held their luggage through the revolving front doors and down the parking lot to where their bus was parked in its designated spot. It seemed eerily quiet.

Usually around this time of day the drivers would already be here, roadhands would be milling about, securing the bigger cases into the bus’ cargo hold. Their manager and make-up artist, whom they'd grown increasingly close to over the many months of travelling together, would be making sure the boys hadn’t trashed the bus too much during the previous trip. Acting as stand in road parents and giving them an earful when the bus wasn’t up to code.

But no one was there.

Jake shot a quick glance at the watch on his wrist. They were supposed to leave in about two hours, where the fuck was everyone?

He looked over at Danny who’s face mirrored his own confused expression.

“Did we get the time wrong?” Jake asked.

“I don’t know, we didn’t change time zones yesterday did we?” Danny replied.

Jake thought back to the day before, usually their manager would tell them and make sure that they updated their watches when they travelled from one time zone to the next, but he didn’t remember having gotten that notification yesterday.

“I don’t think we did…” he muttered, wracking his brain for any memories he might have subconsciously declared unnecessary. He still came up blank.

Danny shrugged.

“ Whatever, let's just start loading on our shit. The sooner we can take a nap the better, I am exhausted.”

Jake nodded in agreement. The last few days had been an absolute whirlwind. Back to back shows for the last five days in five different countries, continuously packing and unpacking gear. Getting off the bus, preparing, playing, packing up, and getting back on the bus.

It was rewarding of course, seeing the thousands of people who appreciated what they did even though they spoke different languages and had different cultures. Living the life they’d always dreamt of, travelling the world and performing their hearts out. It was wonderful. Jake would never wanna do anything else, not in a million years.

It was also extremely exhausting. A nap definitely sounded nice right now.

Jake dug through the pockets of his pants for the keys to the bus as Danny started taking their luggage off of the trolley.

Coming up empty he checked the pockets of his jacket next. Phone, wallet, passport, all his usual important items were there. But not the keys.

“ Danny, babe, did you see my keys by any chance? I can’t seem to find them.” Jake asked, checking the pockets of his jeans again just to be sure he hadn’t accidentally put them in a different spot than usual.

Danny set down the suitcase he was holding and checked the carabiner on his belt where he usually kept his keys, but his hands came up empty too. He checked his pockets as well but still nothing.

“Can’t say I did love. And I can’t seem to find my own set either.” he replied.

Panic started to set in slightly at that. The bus was basically their home at the moment. They all had their own set of keys and they usually guarded them with their life. But the last few nights their manager had opened the bus and they had all filled in one after another. Jake couldn’t even remember when he had last unlocked the doors by himself, let alone which country he had been in at the time.

Losing your keys was one thing, not knowing in which country you had lost them was something else entirely.

“Did I wear these pants yesterday?” Jake asked Danny, mind too awash with the sudden rush of panic to clearly remember his own outfit from the day before.

Danny scrunched up his shoulders and lightly shook his head. “I’m not sure, I don’t think so?” he said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

Jake started digging through his backpack first. Maybe he had shoved his keys into some random pocket there. He had never put his keys in his bag before but maybe, somehow, his exhausted brain had thought that that was the most logical place last night.

Still nothing.

Meanwhile Danny had thrown open his suitcase and was frantically rifling through the pockets of all the pants he owned. Also nothing.

The two men looked at each other, panic evident on their faces now.

“Should we call someone?” Danny asked, voice sounding like he’d just ran a marathon.

“I’ll call one of the drivers, they should have been here by now anyway.” Jake replied, not entirely successful in keeping the anxiety out of his own voice.

The phone rang for about thirty seconds before it eventually went to voicemail. Jake cursed under his breath.

His calls to their manager, their make-up artist, Josh, and Sammy ended in the same result. No reply or straight to voicemail.

“What in the actual fuck is going on right now.” he exclaimed, panic turning slowly into anger at the unresponsiveness of the crew. “Did we enter the twilight zone or something? We’re supposed to leave in an hour and a half, where the fuck is everyone?”

Danny, who had been anxiously pacing back and forth next to Jake and chewing on the nail of his thumb, stopped in his tracks as he heard the frustration in his boyfriend's voice.

He turned to face Jake and softly pulled him into a hug.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine.” he muttered into the shorter man’s hair, all anxiety instantly having disappeared from his voice in favour of calming Jake down.

Jake sighed against his chest and hugged him back.

“We can’t miss tonight’s show Danny, I can’t believe I’ve been stupid enough to lose my keys somewhere in Europe.” he mumbled against Danny’s sweater.

“We won’t miss tonight’s show.” Danny replied, rubbing his hands up and down Jake’s back in what he hoped was a soothing way and didn’t betray the panic and uncertainty he was still very much feeling himself.

“And if you’re stupid for losing your keys then so am I. I'm sure we’ll find them eventually. And there’s no way the crew would ever allow us to be late. I’m sure there’s just been some kind of miscommunication. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Jake seemed to slightly relax at that. He hugged Danny a little bit tighter for a moment before loosening his grip around his back to stand up on his tiptoes and plant a soft kiss against Danny’s lips.

Danny smiled against his mouth, secretly enjoying the fact that Jake fully had to reach up to be able to kiss him, and always feeling extra loved when he saw Jake make the effort.

“ Let’s get back to the lobby.” Danny said once Jake had released his lips again. “It’s pretty cold out here and maybe we can ask the receptionist at the front desk if we can go back and search our room.”

Jake lowered himself to his normal height again and nodded. “Yeah that’s probably our best option right now.” he replied, moving to replace their luggage back onto the trolley.

The receptionist looked slightly surprised when they rolled the full cart of luggage back through the revolving doors, but managed to keep a professionally pleasant face when Jake and Danny approached her and explained their situation.

“I’m very sorry to hear that you’ve misplaced your keys.” she said.

“ I think our cleaning staff is in there now, I’ll call up to the room and ask them to keep an eye out. Meanwhile, please feel free to wait in the lounge, I’ll let you know as soon as I hear back from them.”

They thanked her and sat back on the same couch they had inhabited half an hour ago, this time filled with a lot more frustration and anxiety.

“I guess we can kiss the master bedroom goodbye after this.” Danny sighed.

Jake looked over at him, his elbows were resting on his knees and his shoulders were slumped slightly forward, curls hanging like a curtain around his face.

He smiled softly at Danny and pushed some strands of hair behind his ear so he could actually see him.

“Listen, we had every intention to load not only our stuff but also Josh and Sam’s shit onto the bus. Those chucklefucks should be grateful. When was the last time they even so much as offered to take our bags huh?” Jake said with a smile.

Danny smiled at that too.

“I don’t know man. Last time Sammy offered to take my bag I was pretty sure he was gonna try and chuck it into a canal. Little shit.” Danny chuckled.

“Exactly!” Jake replied. “I don’t think Josh has ever offered to help me carry anything. He’s much happier watching me struggle by myself. “ he laughed.

Their anxiety was slowly lessened as they tried to lighten each other’s mood. They sat for a while and reminisced about what assholes their other two band members could be until the receptionist gently interrupted their giggle fit.

She smiled warmly at them when she spoke.

“Sorry to interrupt gentlemen but our cleaning staff seems to have located two sets of keys in your room, along with a pair of trousers and a jacket. Someone will bring them down shortly.”

Jake and Danny sighed in relief, thoroughly thanking the woman who gave them another kind smile before returning to her station behind the front desk.

Danny pulled Jake close to him.

“See? Told you it would be all right?” he said, a smile audible in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah mister eternal optimist.” Jake laughed. “But don’t pretend you weren’t worried you’d left your keys in France or Germany or Switzerland either.”

Danny gave him a playful shove.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” he stated matter of factly. “I knew they were in the room the entire time.” he tried to keep his face as straight as possible but it only took a single look at Jake’s face for Danny to break into laughter.

“Yeah no, I was absolutely shitting myself man.” he finally admitted.

Jake laughed at him and Danny joined in his laughter. All anxiety melting away like snow in the sun.

A few minutes later Jake’s phone rang. It was Josh.

“Hey Jake, sorry I missed your call. What’s up?” his twin’s voice sounded cheerful through the phone’s speakers.

A little bit of the anger Jake had felt earlier bubbled back up into his stomach.

“What do you mean ‘what’s up?’” he replied. “Where the fuck are you? Where is everyone? We’re supposed to leave soon and the entire crew is missing!” he tried not to yell but Josh’s nonchalant tone of voice didn’t exactly help to calm him down.

“Jake what the fuck are you talking about? It’s Wednesday, remember? We have the next two days off. We’re not leaving until Friday evening.” Josh stated calmly, confusion evident in his voice.

Jake didn’t believe him.

“Nice try asshole. Why is your luggage in the hotel lobby if we’re staying here for two more days huh?” he snapped back.

“It’s not? My stuff is still in my room?” Josh was silent for a second, Jake could hear Sammy’s muffled voice in the background of the call. “Sam did point out that there were some suitcases that looked almost identical to ours when we walked through the lobby this morning. Please tell me you didn’t touch those, cause they’re definitely not ours, you can check the tags.”

Jake’s anger deflated at that. He stayed silent for a second as he walked back over to the luggage and checked the tags like Josh had suggested. He was right. He had no idea whose bags these were but they sure weren’t his brothers’.

“Jake? Are you still there?” Josh’s voice asked through the phone.

“ Haha, yeah totally, I was just joking man, you totally fell for it.” he said, but his voice sounded anything but convincing.

Before Josh could reply Jake spoke again. “I’ll call you back later, I gotta go sort out a thing.”

He could hear Josh snort out a laugh before he hung up and walked back over to Danny who looked at him quizzically.

“Babe, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but we may be the two biggest idiots currently alive.” Jake smiled awkwardly as he rubbed a hand across his forehead.

Danny’s confused look only intensified until Jake explained what Josh had just told him.

Danny stared at him for a long quiet moment.

“I think we should wait with checking back into our rooms until the receptionist changes shifts.” he mumbled. “I don’t think I could handle the embarrassment of checking out and back in with the same person within a two hour window.”

Jake nodded at that.

“At least we’ll have our keys back soon so we’ll be able to take a nap on the bus in the meantime.” he said.

Danny huffed out a laugh at that. “I’m gonna need more than a nap after this shit show of a morning.”

Jake silently agreed. A nap, a stiff drink, and a hot shower, and then maybe another nap for good measure. They were obviously more exhausted than they had realised.

Suddenly Danny let out a groan and Jake looked at him, confused.

“Josh and Sammy are never gonna let us live this down are they.” he said, eyes squeezed shut, an absolute look of discomfort on his face.

Jake let out a laugh at that.

“Oh absolutely never. Let’s maybe not mention that we also lost our keys. The fact that they know we apparently dragged some stranger’s luggage all over the parking lot for about an hour is already bad enough.”

Danny could definitely agree to that.

The end.

[awellboiledicicle]

Keep imagining the gang trying very hard to help Gale get over his fear of deep water. Well, not the depth. The problem is what's in the depth and that he can't see it all the time.

Basically I imagine a frankly astounding amount of time spent taking him fishing with Astarion. Resource gathering with Tav, Wyll, and Karlach. Area patrols with Lae'zel--which make her feel more useful, given she worries about not being able to protect the gang when they split up for daily tasks, and he feels safe because he's reasonably sure she could kill a reaper with a survival knife.

The main problems there are the currents, because the weather shifts with the moons and that means the tides do too-- and the shape of the caldera they're inside of means some wild currents. For the stronger swimmers, this isn't a problem. For even weaker swimmers like Gale and Astarion, a seaglide can usually get them out of the danger zone/back to the shallows where the currents tend to mellow out outside of a massive storm above surface. Problem is, that still requires a certain amount of being able to stay chill if you get, say, swept several dozen meters in a direction and suddenly you can't see ground below you and its just you, whatever god you pray to, and your HUD saying 'this way home'.

Which is to say on the very, very, very rare occasions Gale is separated from his swim buddy, or goes out alone on a rescue mission, he lives in constant denial about how terrified he's about to be. Because if he thinks about it too hard, he won't leave the habitat at all. Which is counterproductive.

I assume the leviathans and The Void at the edge of the caldera that they discover while mapping it out don't help the feeling.

Basically Gale is Gale, but without the confidence one gains when they can cast fireball. He doesn't even have a staff in this au, he's just there with a knife and the human fall back of "maybe if i study it enough i won't be terrified of it".

Which is why Astarion's obsession with the scanner room often leads to them talking about oceanography. Because on paper and in hologram it's Fine. It can be broken down into what x means for y and what z impacts when g happens to h. And Astarion gets to learn about mapping and things, which he was mostly winging since he is, after all, a lawyer not an oceanographer or explorer. It also makes him feel better to know the upper limit on how big something below him could be to be outside sight lines. Not much better, because even small things can kill you, but it helps.

AKA when they go to the floating island, he's driving his seamoth just under the surface and refusing to look anywhere aside the back of Astarion's seamoth, where he's following Tav on their seaglide.

The only thing that helps his fear eventually is when they get the Cyclops and he actually gets to see the deeper ocean floor biomes. The cave systems fuck it right back up, but he's calm for like a week.

[reticent-fate]

🐨🐦🦅

��� ⇢ Items in the innerworld ? can they be retrieved , do they have to be bought , do they have to be stolen , or can they pulled out of thin air , forged , or manifested ? etc

Depends on which part of the innerworld you're in. There are a few main areas, including the main Dreamglass, where items can be pulled out of thin air. Some members have more difficulty in the main innerworld, but it's easiest there. In other areas, items can't be so easily manifested, but so long as the area is being accessed in a capacity as part of headspace, it's usually possible to find objects of comfort at minimum.

Someone in back also briefly mentioned that we have a sentient sub-headspace in a Lor fictive that is able to synthesize food with zero limitation.

🐦 ⇢ Favourite places in the innerworld ? are there really beautiful terrains in the iw that are just jaw dropping , and are there such things as 'tourist attractions’ in the iw ? are there any iconic , famous , or otherwise well-known spots in the iw , are there specific restaurants , shops , malls , adjacents that are frequently talked about in the iw , how do they operate ? etc

There are a lot of weird places in the innerworld that count as famous. Hunter has his own place in the innerworld that's literally an endless warehouse, for example.

The most infamous non DG/oc location in headspace would probably be Thronespace, though, which is literally a dome full of darkness and glowing eyes/wings. It sometimes has a giant wooden throne, sometimes it has a giant princess bed.

In terms of places that are just beautiful (or favorite locales), though, it depends on who you're asking.

College Squad's beaches (which have a proper name I am redacting for their privacy) are particularly gorgeous, in my opinion. That spot of the innerworld is an island archipelago in the eye of an ever-whirling hurricane. On the rare occasions you can see the sun, it's got a beautiful sunrise and sunset. Still, its beaches are a soft, silky pink, and Ellia has some favorite spots on that island that she often reminisces about, considering it was her lifetime home.

There's also one location in headspace I just think is extremely funny, and that's a college dorm room that, as far as we can tell, has a bricked over door. The only way in or out is to wake up in or outside of it.

I think my favorite spot has to be the featureless meadow that connects most of our innerworlds, though. It's not pretty the same way the beach is, but it's got a serene, comforting atmosphere. Anytime I'm fronting there, it's a lot calmer than when I'm stuck, say, in Dorm Jail lmao. The grasses are soft like fur, and while there are areas short enough to lay down in them, you can see the breeze tugging the long tufts as far as the horizon. It's always sunset there, and the sky is clear enough to see the glittering stardust as blue fades to rainbow hues.

This all said, there is a restaurant I would love to find in headspace if it's possible to bring it here, considering I have fond memories of it. The point at which a fixture becomes part of headspace and not just innerworld set dressing is difficult to pin down, though.

🦅 ⇢ Communication in the innerworld ? how do sysmates communicate , is the innerworld relatively small or relatively big that effect the way the system communicates ? are there messaging apps , mail services or animal .. senders ? or is it easier to meet in certain places , or are there meetings in order to effectively talk to the system , are there video chatting platforms too ? etc

Our headspace is functionally infinite in size, even just counting the main DG area. It makes it Hell to communicate when there isn't anyone administrating communication. Even then, sometimes that shit just doesn't work.

DG administrators have innerworld magic, and that's the only real way they can manage communication between separate parts of the system that isn't administered through the presence of front (ex: we retain some information between hard switches, but only because it's close to front).

Considering the structure, we also don't regularly host meetings anymore because it's been over two years since we thought we had few enough members to do regular roll calls. We're a polyfragmented mess lmao, and there are areas of headspace most of us active members know we can't even begin to access right now.

This is all also ignoring the fact that the innerworld that is entirely mimetic of our original fiction is, uh. Active enough to regularly spit out new details that come with someone glaring at us inside the DG. Honestly we should just cave and call it a paracosm at this point but we would have to do more research on that term to feel comfortable with it lol.

Suffice to say, we rely heavily on communication through external means because of all this.

-Naaz (he/him)

[kats-journal-diary-diarrhea]

Finally starting this diary diarrhea. This is through mobile so excuse any typos.

These past several months have been absolute fucking hell. Then December, things became fucking worse. My parents got stupid new furniture and it has been FUCKING HELL. It has just been: my parents demanding nonstop work/cleaning nearly every single fucking day. Plus threatening to get rid of the cats after all my fucking hard work over the years of caring for them. I am so messed up from all the fucking abuse where I can’t even sleep anymore because I get scared I am going to abruptly wake up again to my mom throwing heavy objects at my door which fucking gives me a heart attack. Or my dad banging at my door like a brute. His anger voice makes me think of sickeningly burning charcoal in the dark with heavy smells that hurts my stomach.

Recently my mom threw a bucket at my door shrieking her head off which scared the shit out of me starting up my rare fight or flight response. (Rare because usually I just freeze or shut down.) Unfortunately, my response was fight this time so I automatically ran my mouth off shouting she sounds like an old grandma. That caused her to FUCKING EXPLODE VIOLENTLY. She screeched EXTRA LOUD shouting “GET OUT! GET OUT OF HERE!! GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM! YOU HAVE NOTHING NICE TO SAY THEN FUCK OFF!!!!”

At that point I was so numb I just responded in a calm manner. “No, I’m cleaning the pantry.” Her loud screeching is comparable to a huge pig screeching loudly when its life is in danger. (Not calling her a pig, just comparing the sounds.)

She exploded because Muffin, our elderly blind 16 year old cat pooped in the dining area. She shouted repeatedly“GET RID OF HER!!” My dad decided to toss her out somewhere. Evil. :/ I gave in to getting “rid of her” because they were being so fucking vile and insane,and so I suggested we just euthanize her BUT I want her ashes. My dad shouted “YOU DON’T NEED HER ASHES!!!!” That implied he was going to dump her off somewhere. Yeah, sure. Dump a poor blind cat out somewhere we had for 16 years that just wanted cuddles. Okay.

Anyways, I was defeated BUT not letting them kill her inhumanly. I want it humanely. I told my sis’. she responded she would take her in. I was so fucking relieved and grateful.

I had to use the last of my savings/funds to get supplies for Muffin. I’m entirely broke thanks to my psychotic fucking insane parents. :/ I can’t even get any small fun things to help make existing less miserable for me.

I am fucking depressed having to give up Muffin. We had her since December 2008. My parents care too much over fucking materialistic shit than beloved pets we had fun and adventures with. :/

Well that’s been much of the fucking hell that’s been going on. Jesus fucking Christ. Yesterday, I will make a separate post over. It will be about how we celebrated my mom’s birthday early (since today my sis’ and I along with Muffin leave to San António.)

Today, got yelled at by my dad for letting Muffin run around. He banged at my door. His disgusting snarling voice again, like vile charcoal in the dark, heavy smell hurting my stomach.

Ughhhh, I still have much to do before my sis’ and I take off. I have to bribe my parents to give Tomtom his meds/vitamins. (That’s a whole other fucking shitstorm. My mom was shrieking her head off saying he needs to die because “LOOK AT HIM HE DOESN’T DESERVE TO LIVE!!!!” Jesus fucking Christ, mom. What the fuck is your problem. I thought you loved Tomtom. :/ Thankfully she stopped when my dad told her to stop which was FUCKING RARE but I am still grateful for that confusing moment. :| Thankfully also they see he is improving.)

Okay. Will probably post about yesterday later and the day before yesterday later as well.

[haunting-of]

There were more shadows than usual, for this time of day. They were cast heavy and dark over dumpsters and trash bags, over a few doors with no handles to try, on mediocre lights that weren’t working. Danel glanced over the couple dozen windows, considering climbing some of the fire escapes to check inside.

No... If Jesha wanted to be found, he would have found them by now. He’d been searching for hours, feeling them nearby, but not even catching a glimpse of them. One question was on his mind.

What was Jesha turning into?

They’d been acting strange for a while, and not just their personality. It was the body temperature, the higher intuition, the control of external factors, how they had no need to sleep. 

None of that was a red flag for Danel, that’s just how the body operated when his demon soul was present. He was always just a little bigger than himself. He remembered from when he was human, though.

He remembered humans don’t normally have any of that, just like Jesha didn’t used to.

There was no one else around. No movement in or past the buildings. Ghosts were milling around, cold spots passing up and down the alleyway with whispers filling the air. An abnormally high concentration, indicating either a mass grave beneath his feet, or...

He looked up, between the empty, silent apartment buildings. Or it was above him.

They must still be nearby.

“Okay, so everyone's dead here," Danel started, talking no louder than a conversation. If Jesha wanted to hear, they'd hear. "I'm not judging, I just think it's something we should talk about."

Jesha faced the window and didn’t look at the still-warm body behind them. They didn't consider how they could hear them through the building, or however many storeys up they were. They were paying attention to Danel.

He wanted to talk? Now?

Jesha hadn't replied, but it sounded like someone was listening. Maybe they were in the area. “You have to stop running from me. I'm sorry I lied, but I only wanted to help you. I still only want to help you, Jesha.”

Their nose wrinkled. Since Danel had come out as a demon from hell, they'd had the chance to really reevaluate his personality. There were some things they could accept now.

So was he a demon from hell? Sure. Was he 'alive' before humans were a species? Fine. Was he smart? Looking back, with all the insight he should've had? Rarely.

And maybe he was holding back, keeping his abilities in check before. So what? He... He...

Tch, Jesha clicked their tongue. The ghosts in the room had surrounded them, and were talking too loud for them to think.

Danel jumped at the small sound, far away and behind a wall. A sinking feeling grew in his body as the ghosts in the alleyway began congregating in one spot. Jesha didn't want to be found, but those flocking ghosts made for a dead giveaway.

They were getting way too close to too many ghosts.

From inside, Jesha had fallen to the wall. They could hear Danel trying to break the bricks that separated them over the sound of the dead speaking to them, but the ghosts were starting to drown him out. Shaking, they backed away from the floor and tried to block out the noise with their hands.

Once the ghosts started talking, they just.

Didn’t.

Stop.

He leapt up to the closest fire escape ladder and climbed until he reached the window, going to open it before receiving a cold shock from touching the pane. The ghosts were blocking him out?? Not even this many of them could-

Danel realized what was happening too late.

"Jesha!!" Danel yelled, scaring birds from the rooftops. "Jesha, stop!!"

Jesha was still curled up on the wall, and now the whole room was spinning around them. The wall shook with the rhythm of a heartbeat.

They understood. Danel was scared. He’d actually been scared a lot, always keeping them away from monsters, always trying to hold all his secrets inside. He hadn't been scared of Jesha until now. 

But he didn’t know all the death they could bring. Had he ever noticed the killer incubating inside of them? Their mind was already this diseased, and it took him this long to notice? It took him this long to be afraid?

He should be scared.

The noise of the ghosts in the room weren't so loud now, or maybe they could just hear them better. They slowly uncurled on the wall. Jesha couldn’t help what had seeped in, congealing inside them. Whose fault was that, Danel? Whose fault? Jesha stood.

Danel, he fucked it up. Get away from the ghosts? What about the demon that was fucking latched onto them? Lied, instead of keeping them safe? Attracted more and more ghosts, demons, more and more trouble?

And now Jesha was changed, they decided, getting a little bit colder than before. Listening to the ghosts that were spiralling through the room, they tried their hand at controlling the way they spun.

Success. It looked like Danel wasn't superior anymore. So, fucking right he should be scared, especially since he was still an idiot.

Jesha hadn’t been running from him.

They were chasing Vincent.

[derpychica]

Can I get the glamrocks x puppet!reader where reader wishes they could around more the pizzaplex but can’t do to their strings only allowing them to go to, their room and their little area (their area is a game room)

☆ this is so unique!! thank you for the request, I hope you like it, rockstar! Also merry christmas everyone, and for the people who don’t celebrate it have a lovely day.

“Caged like a bird”

☆ glamrock crew x (gn) puppet reader!

☆ content warning: none!

You smile as many children skipped around your game room. Laughs and giggle emit from their beings. You enjoy as you observe the kids goof off and play all sorts of games, being from tag or video games in general. Well…it was the only thing you could do. It was to watch, stay there and be their puppet for entertainment. Once the lights were on, you would sing and dance for a shortage of time. But of course, you could only go so far. You were curious how it felt like to be chased how the kids did during tag. Or how it felt like to go to any place you wished with your own two legs. Yet your room was sadly limited.

Your thoughts seem to snap when a little girl ran over to you. You put on a grin and said your greetings. “Hello, hello! You are here to see me, the puppet! What is it you need, dear?” You questioned, tilting your head and awaiting for the girls response. You saw as she nervously shifted to one foot to the other. She visibly bit the inside of her cheek. “I-is it true your always alone here..?” She stammered, her eyes finding the ground far more interesting. What a change of atmosphere caused by her off putting question.

What an odd thing. Most children would ask simple questions-like, what was your favorite color or what was your favorite meal.

But this one was quite different from the others. You softly roll a hum off your tongue, closing your eyes to seem as if you were thinking. “Well…not always! I’m here with you cute children, I love seeing you guys have fun, that’s why I’m here. So you can see me dance and sing so you won’t feel sad.” You beamed at the little girl, trying your best to stay your cherry, goody self. It wasn’t your place to tell her your animatronic life when closing time commences. Her eyes furrowed and her brows knotted. “I mean…when we’re not here.” She sternly corrected. Your smile soon twisted into discomfort.

Were you always alone…? Were you lying to not only her but yourself?

You stood in silence, your arms slowly going limp but the strings attached to your wrist caught your hands from falling. You quietly admitted to yourself. It was lonely. If it weren’t for Vannesa of the other night guards checking up on you. It was rare for you to see the other animatronics. Actually, you knew them fairly well and nicely got along with them. It was just the distance that separates you both. “Hello, puppet..? Please answer me.” The girl egged on. You practically forgot she was there due to your silent conversation with yourself.

You blink and shook your head. “Ah yes! My apologies, little one. It does get quiet lonely but the nice little ladies at night keep me company. Now, run along and play with your friends.” You piped, shooing her away with your hands. A saddened expression fell onto her face. “Okay…” She murmured before slowly walking off to what you assumed her mother.

You heaved a deep sigh. Watching her small figure blend into the neon scenery. Alone at last…the usual.

☆

Your game room was dark, only the subtle neon leds Illustrated along the boarder line ceiling. The Pizzaplex has been closed little over an hour now. After what had happened this afternoon your mind has been stuck on that small girl.

“I-is it true your always alone here..?”

It echoed anonymously and you couldn’t help but get annoyed. Her tiny skippy voice clouded over your original thoughts. You’ve never been so hooked up by a question before, almost the same way your strings hooked onto you. The more you recalled things about her, the more you seem to fade out reality.

That’s when you heard a crash coming from the entrance of your game room. You jolt straight up- tugging the silky strings while at it. You eyes skimmed the area. “Vanessa? Is that you?” Your voice shook, hoping a snarky response from the blonde female. “Anyone…?” You called out, leaning your body to get a better look around the room.

“HI [Y/N]! GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN!” You yelped, shielding your eyes from the blob of colors that replaced your vision. You heard laughter erupt around which caused you to move away your arm. Your eyes widened drastically as a gasp escaped your lips. “Haha! Your face was totally hilarious!” Roxanne bursted, holding her stomach and pointing a mocking finger. “Chica!? Roxy? Monty? What are you guys doing here?? Your not allowed out of your rooms after closing time…!” You shouted in a somewhat whisper, worrying one of the night guards would catch all of you. You saw Freddy follow suit, entering the game area with a smile. “Please, guys. Let’s be nice and give our greetings!” Freddy proposed before adjusting his bow tie and top hat. “You too, Freddy?” You gawked at the four. Freddy could only give a sheepish laugh in return. “Hello, [Y/n]! We missed you.” Freddy grinned.

“Ahhh! What should we begin with! I’m so excited!! So excited that I could shove a whole pizza box down my mouth right now…!” Chica drooled, clapping her hands together in inpatience. Roxanne rolled her eyes and leaned her hand on her hip. “Don’t mind the idiotic chicken.” She rudely commented. Freddy shook his head and gave Roxanne a stern look. Montgomery then spoke up, not giving the chance for Freddy to speak his opinion. “You look a little different from the last time we saw you. You look great.” He winked which earned a harsh gag from Roxanne. “Go to hell.” Roxanne spat.

You giggled at their antics, immediately loving the atmosphere gathering from them alone. “Gosh, thank you guys. I didn’t expect all of this! I’m so thankful.” You cried out, simply bubbling with happiness. You reached out for a hug unconsciously but soon felt a tug. Right, your strings. “Ahh, being a puppet kinda sucks sometimes.” You giggle nervously. Montgomery pulled down his star glasses for a second, observing your state. “I have an idea…but I don’t know if Freddy or you will be opposed to it.” Montgomery shrugged, pulling his shades back up and crossing his arms. Chica sent a curious gaze to Montgomery. “Oooo~! What is it!? What is it?? Spit it out before I barf out the slushee I drank not long ago!” Chica fiddled around, nearly knocking herself off her feet. “Wellll…” Montgomery began, sharing a look with Freddy. “Let’s break you loose and show you some fun tonight.” Montgomery finally spat out, looking at your expression for any sort of agreement. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Roxanne fisted the air.

You could only stare in silence. Your head ached from switching from everyone’s facial expressions too quickly. You blink finally and let Montgomery’s suggestion sink in fully. You brighten up- if you were a dog your tail would be wagging wildly. “Uhm! T-that’s a wonderful idea, Monty…but…what would happen if-” Roxanne huffed a ‘tch’ sound. “Chill out, leave that to us, pip-squeak.” She excused, giving a shove to Montgomery, singling for him to get on with it.

That’s when Freddy stood in between you and the others. “Wait for a moment. [Y/n] seems hesitant…we shouldn’t do anything that would make [Y/n] upset. Plus, their worries are 100 percent normal.” Freddy reasoned. Chica wailed but yet had to agree with her robotic bear friend. She slipped over to you and looked into your eyes intensely. “Are you okay with this, [Y/n]!? Consent is key!” Chica held onto your shoulders, your noses making contact. “I heard that line from one of the kids here, by the way.” Chica whispered as if it’s the best accomplishments she had achieved.

Roxanne harshly gripped Chica’s shoulder and ripped her away from you. “So, [Y/n]? Let’s not be a loser…not everyone likes a loser.” Roxanne sassily picked her nails and admired them from afar. “Roxy, that’s not nice…we’re not even getting [Y/n] a chance to speak.” Freddy warned.

Now then, everyone’s bright eyes were on you. You didn’t seem to hesitant for long. “Please, Monty. Go ahead!” You declared. Cheers bursted from Roxanne and Chica, they shared a high five as Montgomery smirked and held out his sharp claws. “Stay still, wouldn’t want to scratch your cute face.” Montgomery cackled earning a hard smack from Roxanne. He yelped but non the less didn’t complain. He saw it coming.

Montgomery slowly made his way towards you. His purple nails tearing each one of your puppet strings. He started with your left wrist, then your right wrist, following with your ankles. Montgomery then backed off, watching to see your first move.

Your eyes look down to your metal hands, finally not being tugged into the sky. You began by taking a step off your stage and giving your arms a big ol’ stretch. You groan as you felt your robotic arms come undone. The metal clashed together once you put your arms back down. “This….is….awesome!!!! Ahaha!! I could do so many things! What to start with, what to start!? Should we exercise!? Dance!? I’ve never felt this free!” You happily exclaimed. The group smiled in awe.

“We should make cupcakes!! Any flavor you like!”

“Let’s go play in the raceway, I’ll show ya’ a real winner!”

“Let this monster teach you the real way of life, mini golf.”

“How about we take a nice stroll around the pizzaplex?”

They all suggested at once. You couldn’t say no to any of them, it was gunna be a memorable night.

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[movedtodykedvonte]

Sunrise and Moon Headcanons

These solstitial losers live in my head rent free

The definite newest animatronic to join the line up and probably the last one thought up for the Pizzaplex. The daycare was a last minute idea and they need someone or thing to mange it.

At first they thought of two robots that would work with the light censors. They created two separate A.I. early in development expecting no bumps

In the end it was too expensive to have both so they jammed them into the only body created (Sunrises) and modified it to fit both Night and Day themes

Originally they looked a lot more like the AR designs, less washed out and more definite eyes rather than the pale off white ones Sunrise has or Moon’s fully red ones.

However, being with small kids all the time meant cosmetic repairs happened very often and were costly, so they ultimately simplified

Kids didn’t have a huge issue with them before this

Saw a design that had Sunrise’s spike ray things turn into stars when they went into Moon mode and I like that too much to unsee it.

Sunrise was programmed to be more energetic and protective as they’d be the one really chasing after kids all day, hence the constant movement to keep kids entertained

This also means Sunrise cannot easily calm down and leads to them becoming anxious super fucking easy, which freaks out kids as they get loud and sporadic in a bad way

Moon was originally programmed as a doting sleepyhead with a little bit of sass. Soft spoken instead of raspy and would round up kids to the nap area

The sass meant they got agitated easily but in a more “tsk tsk, no candy for you way” not a “I will hunt you for sport hee hee” way. Something happened that suddenly made them change almost overnight

They are both terrified about messes cause they get scolded by Staff if the daycare isn’t essentially perfect  and worry it will get them scrapped

Are aware of each other but can’t necessary communicate directly. Only one A.I is active at a time otherwise it’d fry their circuits

Them  shifting is not painless as they have sharp moving parts that don’t stop moving just because they are being tucked behind the face mask thing and we know the bots feel pain (Do you hear how they scream)

Has never officially met the other animatronics as they are usually in their green rooms after the show when Moon’s on patrol and Sunrise rarely has left the Daycare

Very lonely as between the kids, the little convos they have with parents during pick up and drop off and maintenance (which they can’t really talk during) they don’t interact with people much

Says words like “golly” or “gosh” or “whoopsie-doodle” unironically

That little stage they have is like their green room and it’s covered in the drawings and crafts the kids make and you’d be surprised how messy it is for a neat freak like them.

If they have a rest mode they don’t use it like, at all

Linked to my Monty headcanon, they’ve only met him and think they are BFFs cause he’s the only one that makes an effort to get into the play area

I love them and hope they get all the glitter glue they want.

[random-iz-stuff]

What would tenn do if she was rescue by zim from meekrob? Would she follow order from the tallest to take the credit if zim trash the planet(is zim so he will)? Or go to earth with him to see what his been doing on earth.

It would really depend on the circumstances of their rescue. Because there are two separate groups trying to get to them, The Armada and Zim, who is working without the Empire’s knowledge or approval.

Zim isn’t supposed to know about Tenn’s capture. No one but the highest of the Irken society (that being the Tallest and their advisors) is supposed to know about it, but Zim learned about it anyways.

Zim originally suspected that something was wrong not long after the events of Megadoomer, as he had been in semi-frequent contact with Tenn up to that point, and asked the Tallest about it. After all, they’re the people that are directly in charge of high priority invader missions like Larb’s invasion of Vort, Tenn’s invasion of Meekrob and (presumably) his own invasion of Earth. But the Tallest gave him nothing because it was classified information that cannot be released to the public.

So Zim, knowing that something was wrong but being unable to get any information from his leaders, took some classified documents from the Massive when he took control of it in Backseat Drivers From Beyond The Stars. Just while he had the once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Since then, Zim has been working on a Meekrob Rescue Mission, and it’s one of his better plans, with Zim trying his best to make sure that there are as little flaws as possible before he decides to attempt it. He’s got a whole room in his base dedicated to it.

But while that’s going on on Earth, the Empire is trying to think of it’s own solution, and as much as the Tallest hate to admit it, Zim may have a large role in it.

Now, Tenn’s rescue poses several massive problems to the Empire. Firstly, they can’t make it obvious. The Irken public cannot know that their highest evaluated invader failed their mission. Tenn is one of the faces of Operation Impending Doom 2, right next to Larb (sent to Vort) and Grapa (after he replaced Skoodge), and the fact they they failed their mission would ERADICATE trust in Operation Impending Doom 2 as a whole.

And unlike Skoodge, they can’t replace Tenn with someone else. Skoodge is a short Irken that no one cares about or paid any attention to, not to mention that he only became a face of OID2 AFTER he conquered his planet. Tenn was hyped up as the best invader the Empire had and people actually paid attention to them. Tenn along with Larb were central figures even BEFORE the great assigning, and people will DEFINITELY notice if they’re replaced. This means that the Empire’s options are a bit more limited than what you’d expect.

There’s also the fact that Tenn was assigned Meekrob for a good reason. Meekrob is notoriously hard to even get close to given how aggressive the Meekrob are when it comes to people entering their territory. They rarely ever leave it and they never under any circumstances let people in. Even when conducting trade, Meekrob meet up with trading ships outside their territory and don’t let trading ships enter their borders. And once you’re on the planet, good luck because Meekrob is so hard to remain on that it’s almost comical. The atmosphere is toxic to any non-Meekrob life, Meekrob can speak to each other via telepathic networks so one person finding you means that everyone in the area knows where you are, Meekrob are tough in battle and will shoot first and ask questions later, and you probably don’t have much gear because sneaking onto Meekrob usually requires a small, fast ship with little cargo to avoid detection.

So a rescue mission needs an extremely capable soldier that will most likely be working alone due to how hard it is to get even one person on Meekrob. They will have little to no help from the Empire once they arrive and will be going up against an entire planet’s worth of people. And that’s before you consider how they’ll escape. It would require absolute stealth, especially since Meekrob is actively watching for invaders now. In other words, you need an invader. No other type of soldier is equipped for the job.

But the thing is, the Empire doesn’t want to use invaders that have already completed their missions. Successful Invaders are popular figures in the public eye, and one of them being sent on a mission of any kind would be a big thing, especially a mission ordered by the Tallest. There’s also a very large chance that the invader will fail this extremely dangerous almost-suicide mission, meaning that the Empire will need to cover THAT up too. So they need an invader or something with invader training, but that invader needs to be pretty much unknown by the general public, so when they inevitably get sent to their death and disappear, no one will notice or care.

The Empire can’t pull invaders from their current missions either, so that leaves us with exactly two options: Skoodge and Zim.

Skoodge is an extremely effective invader and because of his height and the fact that he wasn’t given credit for Blorch, no one knows who he is, nor will they care when this short Irken dies. But no one wants to use Skoodge because of his height. If Skoodge succeeds and brings back Tenn, most likely leaving Meekrob completely exposed and ripe for the Armada to swoop in and take over in the process, people will know. And it would be very difficult to wipe all traces of Skoodge from Meekrob related media. Footage would need to be destroyed or covered up, voice clips from calls would need to be destroyed or covered up, and so on. And if anything goes wrong there, an extremely short Irken will forever be attached to the destruction of Meekrob. It’s too risky and would be a nightmare to cover up.

That leaves us with Zim. Even though his current mission is fake, Zim still has invader training, and can be quite effective in the right situations. He’s also Zim, so no one will notice or care about his death.

It also guarantees that Zim won’t get in the way of mission like he might if it’s done without him, as the Empire remembers how he came looking for information regarding Tenn before and some are paranoid that he’ll somehow figure it out and throw himself at Meekrob without a plan, throwing any prospect of a rescue mission into jeopardy.

Plus, unlike with Skoodge, Its much easier to edit out Zim if he does succeed. Zim and Tenn have the same body shape, eye colour, etc, with the only large difference being in height. All the Empire needs to do is add eyelashes, curled antennae and a few inches of height to Zim in any footage he appears in and the story instantly looks like Tenn did it all on their own. Plus, even though Zim is below average in height, he’s not as extremely short as Skoodge.

Using Zim also gives the Empire several possible outcomes, all of which are at least slightly beneficial.

Outcome 1: Zim fails. This means that Tenn remains captured, but Zim is no longer a problem. Plus there’s a good chance that Zim will take a good chunk of Meekrob down with him.

Outcome 2: Zim success and brings Tenn back to Empire space. This means that Tenn is safe and Meekrob is most likely in the perfect position for the Armada to take over. Zim is still alive, but he can be sent back to Earth while getting none of the credit due to how easily the Empire can photoshop Zim to look exactly like Tenn.

Outcome 3: Tenn dies on Meekrob and Zim returns empty handed. The worst outcome out of the lot of them, but even here Zim’s escape from Meekrob would leave it open for attack.

The only problem is that this plan involves Zim. The single most unpredictable Irken in existence. Even if the Tallest tell him exactly what to do, they’re still less “guiding him” than they are “pointing him in the vague direction of Meekrob and hoping for the best”. All plans for Meekrob involving Zim also involve an evacuation plan for every ship near the Meekrob system, because Zim being involved could damage the Empire more than he damages Meekrob.

Plans detailing how exactly Zim should be used also vary wildly. Some say that Zim should be given proper, modern invader equipment for this mission instead of the trash he’s normally given to maximize the chance of him succeeding, others say that he should be sent with what he has even though it isn’t modern invader tech to minimize the amount of collateral damage and destruction that he could cause, and one guy suggested a three step plan that goes as follows:

Step 1: Put Zim in a giant mech like the one he drove in OID1.

Step 2: Fire the mech out of a massive cannon directly at Meekrob, hopefully smashing him into Meekrob’s surface before anyone has a chance to react.

Step 3: Tell Zim to go ham and watch the fireworks from a safe distance.

This plan was not received well and has started several arguments.

Neither Zim nor the Tallest are aware of each other’s plans. The Tallest don’t know that Zim knows about Tenn’s capture and don’t want to tell him unless they’re absolutely certain that he can be effectively used, and Zim is under the impression that the Tallest would never use him in a rescue mission because he’s already on a different Super Important and Super Secret Mission here on Earth and definitely doesn’t want to tell the Empire about his planned rescue mission because he stole classified documents to learn about Tenn’s capture in the first place.

So what happens to Tenn after they’re rescued (and even if they’re rescued at all) depends entirely on what happens first; the Tallest swallowing their pride and rolling the dice with Zim or Zim completing his preparations and going for it without the Empire’s knowledge or approval.

If Tenn’s rescue is an Empire Mission, Tenn would be immediately brought to the Massive for debriefing, medical stuff, the Conquering of Meekrob and it’s organic sweep, dealing with Zim, the like. Tenn would be given credit for Meekrob and Zim would be shoved to the side. Even if Tenn wanted to give credit to Zim, the Empire wouldn’t allow it.

If Tenn’s rescue is done by Zim on his own, Tenn would be taken back to Earth and Zim’s base for a while to recover from everything (Maximum security Meekrob prisons aren’t exactly nice places to stay for long periods of time), but would eventually head back to Irken space and the Massive for most of the above reasons.

Once again, Tenn would be forced to take full credit for Meekrob because the Empire doesn’t want anyone to know that they failed and got themselves captured, plus the Empire might not even know or believe that Zim was involved at all. The Tallest might assume that what was actually Zim sneaking onto the planet and blowing a good chunk of it up in the process was simply Tenn escaping on their own.

And even if they don’t assume that, Meekrob have a lot of enemies. Even the Resisty refuses to work with them. That massive event that happened down on Meekrob could have been anyone, Irken or not. And the Tallest have no reason to believe it was Zim as long as you ignore Tenn telling them that it was Zim. After all, that walking defect could never do something that impressive on his own.

[littlesniggy]

Hi! Love your writing my dear ❤️ I was wondering if I can request head cannons with Marco, thatch, crocodile and Rayleigh with fem readers (separate) . They are having sexy time and then there crew mates walk in during the sexy time and fem reader is in a certain positions (any positions ) reaction from both parties.. thank you so much ! ☺️

Hey Anon! Thank you for requesting! This was a very interesting request and I enjoyed writing for them. I'm also a huge Rayleigh fan so glad to get a request for him this time!! I have no idea what Thatch was like since I never really cared for him (sorry) so I hope it somewhat fits what I wrote.

Warning: 18+, nsfw

Characters: Marco, Thatch, Sir Crocodile, Rayleigh

Marco

Marco usually has not that much free time to fool around with you but when he does it’s always quick but intense. He loves to make love to you even when it’s just a quicky and he is usually pretty careful as to not get caught. But even he can be forgetful, especially when your legs are wrapped around his waist so perfectly, giving him the perfect angle to drive his dick into you.

Neither of you hears how the door to the small room opens, too occupied with panting and quiet moaning. Your forehead rests against his strong shoulder and his hands are gripping your thighs tightly, pushing his member inside of you over and over again, the dirty sound of skin on skin filling the room.

It takes you two to realize your new audience simply because he is just standing there in shock, not knowing what to do. Ace always has something to say – just not right now. It doesn’t happen often that he catches the two of you in a compromising position; to be exact, it’s the first time!

But as much as he is in shock, you are terrified. I mean, it’s a pretty intimate position and most people like to keep this part of their life private. Marco is also shocked but it doesn’t take long for him to get his composure back. Good thing is, he is covering your body with his, so Ace doesn’t really see your naked form and he doesn’t really care that Ace sees him naked.

“When you’re done staring would you please leave yoi?” he’d ask, voice even and with no embarrassment. Is it awkward to face Ace after this again? Yes. Does Marco really care about it? Probably not and neither should you. Ace, however, will probably avoid the two of your for the next couple of days but it’ll go away.

Thatch

He’s a very open man when it comes to most aspects of his life and if both you and him would be okay with it he would have no problem someone watching (no sharing though!!). He likes to show you off to his crew mates, not in a tasteless way like “oh, look at how hot my partner is!” but rather in s more subtle way like moving his hands along your curves while he is talking to someone, diverting their attention to your body (you probably wouldn’t even notice he dies this on purpose sometimes).

I can also see him being the kind of lover to give oral rather than receive it. So, when the two of you are alone in a room, he probably coaxes you into allowing him to give you head, telling you that he wants to spoil you for no reason. In reality, it’s all just self-serving since he loves your taste and especially the sounds you make while he tongue-fucks you.

He likes to tease you a little while giving head and one of the things he does is have you stand on one leg, the other one is draped over his shoulder and you have to keep balance and not collapse onto the ground. He just loves to see your thigh quiver right next to his face.

This is also the position you two get caught in; him on his knees in front of you, his tongue eagerly fucking your core, one of your hands tangled in his locks and your mouth biting down on your other one to muffle your moans. So, given your position, you’re the one to see the intruder first and you’re horrified, to say the least. A loud squeak that sound unnatural coming from you in this position has Thatch alarmed and one quick look over his shoulder has him cover your body immediately.

“Don’t you ever knock before entering a room, Marco?” he asks, a small scowl on his face. Marco is not as shocked as Ace in this situation and he finds his composure rather quickly. “Sorry. Didn’t know this room was already occupied yoi.” He says with a grin before he leaves the room, not looking at you to save you from more embarrassment.

“Did it just turn you on when he saw us like this?” he asks, of course noticed you clenching around his tongue. This doesn’t deserve an answer and you push him down between your legs again, wanting him to finish what he’s started. You wouldn’t tell him weather you liked it or not – at least not yet.

Sir Crocodile

It would be very difficult to actually catch the two of you in a compromising position. Sir Crocodile is a man who likes to keep most of his live to himself, even Nico Robin doesn’t know half of it! So, naturally, he also only has sexy times with you in his private chambers. But there are times which are rare and far in between, where he lets you seduce him in a more ‘public’ area (still inside his private domain!).

In the contrary to Thatch, he likes to receive oral rather than give it and every time you seduce him in starts with you between his legs while he sits in a chair, smoking a cigar. He makes sure not to drop any of the ashes onto your head though. It’s dirty and nothing else. Plus, he doesn’t want you complain to him about it.

He loves hearing the lewd slurping sounds you make when you take him between your lips, the small choking sounds when you try and take him in even deeper and your small, muffled moans while you do. He can’t help but get turned on by it even more.

He probably knows that someone is approaching the door way before it actually opens – and he does nothing to stop you. Don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t like being walked in while you deep throat him but you just had to seduce him so you had to live with the consequences.

“Nico Robin. Can’t you see that I’m busy?” he asks in his usual dragged tone, a small simile on his lips. When you hear her name you instinctively try to get off of him but the hook on the back if your head doesn’t let you. He is not too keen on Nico Robin seeing his dick so naturally, he has you cover it with your mouth. You feel the heat come up in your face and you want nothing more than to just disappear but you have to sit through.

“Oh my, you should’ve told me that in advance. Now I’ve caught you two in a quite compromising position. I apologize.” You hear her say but you know she doesn’t feel one bit remorseful and neither does Crocodile. They have just a way higher tolerance for embarrassment than you do. When the door clicks, indicating she’s left the room, the man lets you come up again, letting you take in a deep breath. “Next time, maybe you should think twice about wanting to fuck you anywhere else but the bedroom.”

Silvers Rayleigh

Rayleigh is an open man and he rarely, if never, feels shame when it comes to his personal life. He doesn’t go around telling everyone about him and his sex life but if someone (he knows) asks or more likely wants to have some tips or advise he is glad to give it to them. When it comes to details about his sex life he is like a book with seven seals. He can talk about his experience in general but not what he does with you in the bedroom. It’s just common decency.

He loves to flirt with you on deck in front of the crew and he also kisses you from time to time but anything more intimate is reserved for the bedroom (or anywhere else, really). He’s quite some experience, even during his younger days. He doesn’t sleep around a lot but if he wanted someone, he usually got them. Because of this, he got to explore some kinks and his most favorite is you in blindfolds. It’s nothing special but it really does it for him.

He also likes the reverse cowgirl when you’re wearing the blindfolds. Given, he doesn’t see you wearing them but the knowledge that you’re completely relying on him turns him on. When he can hold your hips while you move on top of him, your ass always in sight; that’s just the best.

Just like Crocodile, he knows when someone is approaching the room but in this particular moment he wasn’t fast enough to bring you underneath him to cover you with his body and Roger just marches in, wanting to tell Rayleigh something. When he sees you two in this position, he’s already out of the room, not uttering a single word and Rayleigh has never been so glad that you were wearing blindfolds.

You’re confused as to why he stopped thrusting up into you. “Why did you stop?” you pant and he just chuckles a little. “No reason. Just appreciating the view.” He lies, not wanting to bother you with the thought of your captain not only seeing you naked but also you fucking yourself on Rayleigh’s dick. He knows Roger will never mention it and like hell he would bring it up. It will cause nothing but trouble