#just a bit of brain rot ig

[shanksofarmour]

okay but poc Evan who needs to bleach his hair from brown to blonde and when his roots show Barty calls him Brownie

[just-null]

HI JAY!! i just saw ur post abt giving u ideas as to what costumes to give nori and omg my brain automatically gave me an image

NORITOSHI AS CAT!!!! like with pink paws and white fur like in a onesie 😭😭 omg he would look sooo cuteeeeeeee aldoe he acts like a black cat but he physically he would suit a white cat's costume so much better omg imagine him with a pout complaining abt it like he wanted to be something else but u suggested that idea and he cant say no OWNFKDKDKKDDK

HI ROSE!! you're so fucking fr for this. i finished this so fast i felt like it wasnt enough so i messed around and doodled some more.. maybe i'll continue doing this with some of the costume ideas? who knows.

all i knows is how cute this cat boy is

[Doodles under the cut!]

hes.. he's so fucking cute as a cat... I see you're on the side that sees Noritoshi as cat like. interesting. I 100% approve.

I couldn't choose between black cat or white so I went with both and a mix... I fucking. I can't with your mind. it's so big. the pouting got me fucked up bro. you're so fucking fr.................

noritoshi is a very serious and very hard working heir. its why his toe beans are so tantalizing

[overbearingstruggles]

@ alltimelow Sup, fools?

[rebouks]

How do you plan out your stories? Do you come up with what will happen ahead of time or do you just go with whatever your sims are doing?

uhmmm.. i don't 😆

i've recently fully planned and written a short story ahead of time and it's reminded me why i don't do it.. like the outline is fun to do and i know the end result will be too, but the in between stuff seems to take foreverrrr and i kinda get bored and hate it lmao i prefer short bursts of planning and executing so like rn i have this lil camping trip then i think Robin will go back to school (i only have basic notes on this tho) then it'll be my Halloween special then a surprise! (again not even basic notes on this one skdjskj) then who knows 🤷‍♀️

i usually have a rough idea where i'm going and how character growth will go over time but how we're gonna get there i've no idea! i don't plan ahead very far at all and even when i do it's basic notes or brain rot ideas/scenes.. most of what i come up with is just me playing dolls in my head 🤸‍♀️

[youredreamingofroo]

Ya'll... I think I might start a new story, I have a... basic concept of what I want it to be like, and I already have a name (under the impression that I don't suddenly do a 180), I just need to do like... all the writing and make the characters LMFAO It's gonna be a little on the dreary side and dark (which is the kind of writing/genre i aspire to write about, also means I'm gonna have to redo my personal reshade that ive been cooking for like... 3 or 4 months... 😭)-

in the meantime, I might start working on gussying up my navi post (and by gussy up, i mean completely redo) because as nice as it is, it's, idk, a little outdated (i guess), I have an idea for a new theme except i'm either going to a) put it in the drafts and wait til I start the new story to post it so the info is all there or b) make it and then post it and when i start the new story, edit it and put the tags and stuff in for the story.

ALSO might do a name change cuz... this name came from WAYYY before i joined simblr, and its got a charm to it, but i dont rlly like it anymore,, it just dont sit with me the same way that it used to lmao

*(writing this after i posted cuz i forgot to say this - its under the cut and in regards to NSB with the new story - it also kinda turned into a rant lmfao) TL:DR for ppl who don't wanna read my stupid fucking rant: NSB is prob gonna go on a hiatus regardless of if i start a new story, cuz as much as I love it, it's started to feel like a chore and less of smth i enjoy (even tho, like I said, I rlly enjoy/love it) Sorry to my NSB enjoyers out there.

regarding NSB, yes it will probably go on hiatus when making this story bec writing is already kinda exhausting for me as well as editing and NSB has progressively became more and more story-driven than gameplay-driven, and especially after these three days, im kinda burnt out from NSB, i know i just left it off on a cliffhanger with the new baby, but to be honest, I don't wanna deal with another child, i barely get by dealing with the four, and dealing with toddlers> are so fucking annoying cuz of the Sim AI, which in and of itself is just demotivating, i do REALLY love not so berry, i love the story ive created with it, but i guess im just tired of playing the same generation for so long, not to mention the fact that i made it a rags to riches challenge, i know i didnt have to but i prefer to, and bc of that, i havent been able to properly decorate, and i dont really wanna go back on myself, if i decide to continue NSB, i will probably take the RTR rules away since its so annoying to deal with having like, 1000 simoleans all the damn time. Also, i've been planning what to do for generation 3 since catty gave birth, but i had to put NSB on a hiatus bc of a stupid glitch and was only recently able to start it up again, and I still havent moved onto the next gen. I kinda lost the plot with that rant, but basically, NSB will probably go on hiatus, regardless of the new story, I've been wanting to dwell more on Roo and his whole story and the people in his universe and after a bit, NSB has started to, as much as I love it and the storytelling and whatever, feel like a chore, which kinda hurts to say, but its true. Sorry to any of my not so berry enjoyers out there

[tvrningon]

tell me why i’m on break and thinking of cyrillo giving you the darkest look bc you chose to bite him in the heat of the moment 🥲

[dove-da-birb]

If I may offer; imagine kissing all of the individual flecks on their mer-forms

also, seeing tags from @krenenbaker; certain types of eels (New Zealand Longfin Eel) can survive a few hours to several days on land provided that they stay cool and damp, so Floyd and Jade should be fine on land for a bit. Mucus is a powerful thing.

"Ooops, I forgot again~" art tumblr | art twt | everything-twt

[maybankcore]

toxic jj maybank . 𓇢𓆸

context : some toxic!jj concepts i have. idk why but i’m such a whore for toxic jj 🥰.

tws : emotional abuse, a lil bit of angst ig, implications to sex,

imo toxic jj isn’t toxic in the way rafe is toxic – he wouldn’t control what you wear, or where you are or any of that rafe bs. his type of toxic would be completely different.

communication? huh, jj has never heard of it. unless it’s the sounds of your moans during makeup sex. yes, jj maybank would hate communicating with you or frankly anybody after an argument. ignoring the problem till it slowly recovers itself or fucking your brains out are the only 2 options. n’ when he really fucked up nd said some nasty shit to you, he’ll give you the most tooth rotting aftercare.

speaking of him ‘fucking up’, jj would SO lash out easily. even if it’s not you who’s the problem, he’ll fixate on anything small you did and act like that is what pissed him off, and worst of all, he won’t even tell you the reason. imagine your lip quivering and eyes glassy, whilst jj is in-front of you, nose to nose, and him just yelling. “y’know your just such a fuckin’ attention seeker, must’ve gotten that from your precious mommy, huh?”. damn- the way he’d dig into your family issues esp if u hv daddy or mommy issues, and jj would compare you to all the people you spent your whole life trying not to be. ughghghgh the pain ☹️!

i can only imagine the guilt he’d feel when he realized how bad he lashed out, knowing he was trying to work on it. seeing tears steaming down your face, sobs wracking your body as you hug yourself is probably the most gut wrenching, chest tightening, heart breaking feeling for him. and after all, he is his fathers son.

“fuck.. fuck-“ he wrapped his arms around you and started tearing up himself. “m’ so sorry baby. i swear, no, i promise i didn’t mean to do that shit again. baby please i’m sorry don’t cry.” as he frantically started kissing your head trying to get you to respond, yet alone glance at him.

the more you cry, the worse he feels. jj grabs your jaw softly, making you look up a him. your puffy eyes and red nose on display, making your hurt more displayable. “y/n baby, you forgive me right?.. y-y’know i didn’t mean it?” and when you try and turn your head away again he tightens his grip on you. “say you forgive me. please.”

those puppy eyes, down-turned lips and sorrow look on his face always does it for you. the way he brushes your hair out of your face and scans your own eyes for any sign of lenience.

“i forgive you.”

and those three words are what ALWAYSSS make you fall right back into his little trap. days after this it’s always constant affection towards you, movie nights, passionate sex, kisses showering you, and stealing you a new pair of sunglasses.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

[lovelyhan]

Hii!! minghao + "oh really?" / "yes, really." / "lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart." from the prompts enemies to lovers? :D

— rush hour ⟢

pairing: minghao x reader

summary: you used to be good friends with the newest dancer in your agency, but your competitiveness gets the better of you when he overtakes your spot as the top performer of the month—for three straight months.

word count: 6.7k words

tags: enemies to lovers, dancer au? unresolved sexual tension, smut

warnings: promiscuous behavior in public, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: this . got really REALLY long :D like long enough to have its own header and everything LOL it probably helps that hao has been clawing his way back into my bias line these days, so the brain rot kinda just spilled out,, anyway, thank you sm for sending this in!! i hope you like it :3c

smut tags: porn with some plot ig, public sex, vaginal fingering, exhibitionism, hao is kinky as fuck, dirty talk, degradation

svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex

minghao taglist: @zeenanigans - @renjunphile - @pluviophile-xxx

Saying that you hate Xu Minghao is a bit of an overstatement. 

After all, you were the one assigned to show him the ropes when he was accepted into the agency. While you’re no professional mentor, you like to think he was able to rely on you during those first few weeks. He’s been in Seoul for a better part of two years, and although his Korean can already pass as a native’s, you knew he still struggled every now and again. It’s a good thing that verbal communication isn’t direly needed in your line of work.

Minghao was an excellent dancer—one of the best you’ve seen with your own eyes. You once took pride in having a budding prodigy like him as an understudy. Whatever steps or routines you’d ask him to try out and make his own, not only will he deliver, but he’ll blow your expectations out of the water while he’s at it, too. 

It doesn’t help that he knows his own body well enough to channel each movement with passion that makes him look alluring to everyone who dares to watch any of his performances. Minghao isn’t vain or conceited or anything like that, but he’s completely aware of how attractive he is, and that’s a trait that’s further amplified by his dancing. 

You suppose the funniest part about this senior-junior relationship you have with him is how he always asks for your input about his routines. Even if Minghao has long proved that he doesn’t even need a pseudo-mentor like you, he still takes the time to hear out whatever you have to say—eager eyes always shining every time you indulge him with an answer.

Another thing that inevitably brought the two of you closer is the fact that you both take the same train and get off at the same station. Your apartment is in a different neighborhood from his, but you find comfort in the newfound company you’ve been given since Minghao’s arrival. Though he doesn’t talk much outside discussions about work and other dance-related topics, having someone familiar to sit right next to you on the train is more than enough to quell the day’s fatigue.

Your other colleagues sometimes voice out their envious comments jokingly—saying that you’re extremely lucky to have such a hot guy as constant company. Almost always, you respond with a vigorous shake of your head before insisting that things between you and Minghao aren’t at all like that. Besides, you know better than to nurse a romantic relationship between your colleagues. You wouldn’t even let yourself have a crush on any of them. 

What they don’t know, however, is that on very rare occasions when your body feels just a little too heated, and your sheets a few threads too thick, it’s Minghao that flits into your mind as your hesitant fingers reach between your thighs. 

You touch yourself to the thought of him taking you in one of the dance studios. Specifically, in front of the full-stretch mirrors as he fucks you from behind. You imagine him whispering how good you are for him, how you’re taking his cock so, so well. 

Subverting the mere image of the kind man who constantly seeks your validation for his performance has you creaming on your own fingers within minutes, and if you weren’t such a terrible person, you would’ve felt bad for thinking about him in such an obscene light. 

Then again, what Minghao doesn’t know won’t kill him.

His first month in the agency comes and goes like the changing seasons. Next thing you know, it’s time for monthly evaluations again. 

While others would usually dread these assessments, you looked forward to them. You know that they’re less a measure of talent, and more a measure of hard work. Sure, talent could be one of the main driving factors of getting a high score, but you know better than anyone else that talent is nothing if you don’t work hard enough to cultivate it. 

That’s the kind of mindset that always landed you in the top of the rankings for every monthly evaluation.

And it’s the same mindset that puts you immediately beneath Minghao. 

The agency is always prompt with the release of the results. They’d post the typewritten scores next to the dancers’ names in the bulletin board at the ground floor cafeteria for everyone to see two days after the monthly evaluation.

It was a bit of a challenge to squeeze past the other dancers to get a good look at this month’s results—the crowd being more chatty than usual. Your closer friends insisted that you’d be number one as usual, and that you didn’t have to check at all. 

Part of you wants to believe them, but the unsettling feeling that pools in the pit of your stomach doesn’t let you become complacent. It doesn’t help that everyone around you seems like they’re sneaking glances your way—only to look away when you try to catch their gaze. 

When you finally make it to the front of the board, you notice that Minghao is already there—already dressed to kill for today’s sets and routines. His black hair is still damp like he just got out of the shower and rushed straight to work, eyes glued to the bulletin board. You would’ve let your gaze linger a bit longer on his gorgeous face, had it not been for the surprise that awaits you on that single sheet of paper plastered right in front of you.

1. Xu Minghao — 100 points

Your vision tunnels in, white noise ringing in your ears. 

You could vaguely make out the characters of your name just below Minghao’s, and just a few points from a perfect score. But you didn’t care about that. All you could focus on was the fact that you’ve been kicked out of a spot that’s been yours for as long as you can remember. 

No wonder the others were buzzing amongst themselves, flashing you brief looks before whispering their thoughts on the matter to the nearest willing ear. Not a single soul has ever garnered a hundred fucking points from monthly evaluations. The evaluators cut no corners when it came to assessing their dancers’ level of skill and technique, and seeing how they deigned to give Minghao, a complete newbie, a perfect goddamned score—

“Congratulations, bro!” 

“Minghao, you’re a fucking beast! How long did you even practice?”

“That’s so cool. No one’s ever gotten a perfect hundred before.”

“You’ve gotta tell us the secret, please!”

Like a bunch of bees, the collective of dancers start to crowd Minghao—giving him congratulatory gestures and greetings alike. Your understudy simply gazes at them as if in a daze, but ever-so slowly, a smile cracks through his typically stoic demeanor. 

“Uh, thank you…?”

He’s whisked away to the cafeteria before you can blink, and you can only watch in shocked desolation as they all usher themselves away from the board.

Away from you. 

You don’t miss the way Minghao tries to catch your gaze in the midst of it all, the smile he showcased for everyone to see falling the moment he realized you’re still rooted in place. Yet he doesn’t try to break free from the crowd, nor does he attempt to call your name out loud. 

Not that you have any plans on answering if he did.

It’s only after today’s session has concluded that Minghao manages to pull you to the side for a conversation. You’re already halfway out of the building when he catches you, and you can tell that the sheer euphoria of knowing you came out on top is still humming in his veins. 

It pisses you off.

“Thank you,” he says simply. 

“For what?” You try not to sound too gruff, but the pensiveness in your voice comes out anyway. “Letting you take my spot?”

Minghao’s grin dips into a grimace—mirroring his expression from earlier. “What? I meant to say thank you for showing me the ropes. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have—hey!”

You’re probably being immature. No, you’re definitely being immature. Instead of accepting Minghao’s gratitude like a normal fucking person, you continue brisk-walking to the building’s entrance without letting him finish. Of course, he chases after you, asking if he did anything wrong or if you’re simply in a bad mood or both. 

You don’t answer him even when he continues pestering you on the way to the train station, and he doesn’t stop despite the lack of responses from your end. It’s beginning to get on your nerves, too, because he was never this goddamn pushy during all those times you went home together. What’s stopping him from being the quiet companion he’s always been?

“Can you just shut the fuck up, Hao?” you end up snapping at him when you finally get off at your shared station—earning yourself a bunch of questioning looks from nearby commuters. “You don’t have to fucking rub it in anymore than you have. I already know the results, okay?!”

“Rubbing what in?” he asks, exasperated. “I’m just asking you what’s wrong because you don’t normally act this way. Is it so bad for me to worry about my friend?”

“Friend?” you echo mirthlessly. “No fucking friend of mine takes away what belongs to me.”

This time, when you storm off, Minghao doesn’t follow you.

Fortunately, that all happened on a Friday. It takes you the entire weekend after that heated encounter at the train station to realize that maybe you went a little overboard with what you said to Minghao. 

As you replay your conversation in your head, you’re filled with a crippling sense of embarrassment. The top spot for monthly evaluations belongs only to the best—you know this better than anyone else. The only reason that the evaluators deemed you as a second placer is because Minghao is that proficient in his dancing. 

You’re one of the people who was able to watch him closest. You’ve seen the work he put into practice firsthand. You even called him a prodigy. 

So why did you make a fool out of yourself by having a meltdown at the fact that you got beaten by someone who obviously worked harder than you did?

Hard work beats talent any day. But Minghao has both honed to perfection. 

If you’re going to reclaim your rightful spot on the top, crying about it is the last thing you should do. You’re going to have to put in double the effort to call yourself worthy.

As expected, Minghao has started to distance himself from you after that spat. You don’t blame him. As much as you wanted to apologize for your behavior that night, you wouldn’t want to remain friends with a sore loser if you were in his shoes. 

But as his second month in the agency breezes past, you notice that, not only has he distanced himself, but he’s become somewhat…hostile.

He treats everyone else the same way since he came in—stoically with a few words of affirmation here and there. You, though? It’s almost like he’s forgotten all about the time you were assigned to look after him. There’s always this cockiness lingering in his eyes that grates at your nerves more than you thought it would. He’d throw you haughty glances whenever he catches you flubbing some parts of the choreography from the corner of his eye. 

The worst part is that Minghao is more vocal now compared to when he first came in—not seeing any problem with pointing out how you’re starting to slack off during practice. 

“How are you expecting yourself to take back the crown when you’re already breathless after such a simple routine?” he gloats when he catches you lingering by the water fountain, lips curved into a smirk.

You glare at him while you take a sip from your water bottle. “Fuck you. I’ve been rehearsing all fucking day. Who wouldn’t be tired?”

“People who rank first in monthly evals,” he says boredly. “Oh, but you wouldn’t know about that, now would you? At least, not anymore.”

You’re so fucking close to tearing his face off with your own fingernails that you’re slightly grateful that Minghao gets called back onto the dancefloor to polish his group’s routine. Minghao’s constitution changes in a flash—that arrogant look he reserves for you alone making way for his usual aloof expression while he makes his way back. 

He always looks cool and amicable to others, but when no one’s looking he makes sure you catch the patronizing tilt of his lips whenever he pulls off some high level choreography with zero mistakes. As if to remind you that you’re never going to take back what he stole from you. Not in a million years. 

Okay. Maybe you do hate Xu Minghao. 

You hate him a fucking lot.

…

Minghao proves that the results he reaped from his first month in the agency are no fluke.

For three consecutive months, you’re forced to stand in front of the cafeteria’s bulletin board with his name plastered on the very top. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought that the evaluators were only editing the month indicated on top of the sheet with how stagnant the results always are. 

The agency’s rising star consistently comes out on top with little to no effort, while you’re desperately clawing your way back to glory at second place. 

You didn’t know what the fucking deal was. You worked your ass off twenty four-seven. Even if you weren’t in the studio, you made sure to study all sorts of routines and choreographies so your body would remember the movements deep into your bones. 

But then you remember that even if hard work beats talent, you can never beat a man who has both at his disposal.

You’re at your wits’ end at this point—so close to giving up on the title you thought would always belong to you. Your evasive behavior did you no favors in maintaining a good reputation among your colleagues either. If you listened to their hushed conversations closely enough, you’d catch them saying how pathetic you’re being. Ostracizing yourself all because you’re insecure that your understudy became your adversary. 

The only reason you hate what they’re saying about you behind your back is because all of it is true.

Your usual group of friends doesn’t sit with you at your usual table at the cafeteria anymore, but you don’t really mind that—learning this late into your career that silence can be more beneficial than it seems. But every time you see Minghao laughing at a joke told by one of your colleagues, you can’t help but feel that familiar bite of resentment you’ve come to associate with everything he does.

If only he didn’t overtake you during his first goddamn month here. If only he wasn’t the one assigned to be your understudy. Maybe the blow to your pride wouldn’t have been this bad. Maybe you wouldn’t be licking your wounds in your loneliness. 

Maybe you wouldn’t have lost a friend you actually liked having around.

…

With an upcoming dance competition, it’s no surprise that the dancers at your agency often stay behind to polish their performances to perfection. Usually, practices would adjourn hours before the sun even sets, but these days, you find yourself exiting the building no earlier than nine PM. 

The excessive practice time has been taking a toll on you—this much you know. Your muscles have been sore for days, and no amount of painkillers and Salonpas can easily cure your affliction right away. So for tonight, you decide to take it easy—packing up once the clock hits six o’clock. The last thing you want is to accidentally pull something you shouldn’t, thus rendering your participation in the competition null and void.

But as you walk towards the train station, you realize that perhaps staying later was a smarter move after all. All around you, commuters of all ages and walks of life brush past you in their haste—the need to arrive home as soon as possible like a cloud on everybody’s heads. The closer you got to the station, the more it dawned on you.

It’s fucking rush hour.

You’ve always avoided going home during this time for two reasons. The first is the influx of commuters that’s literally and figuratively too suffocating to deal with, especially when your physical constitution isn’t in the best shape. 

The second is…because you noticed that, ever since your platonic breakup, Minghao has started leaving the studio at this hour. Later than your previous commutes home, but earlier than your new work-yourself-to-the-bone schedule. Sure, he’s still the biggest fucking prick to walk the earth whenever he feels like taunting you during practice, but he doesn’t seem interested in working overtime. 

If you’re being completely honest, you’re over the monthly evaluation results. Honest! You’ve just come to accept that nothing is ever set in stone.

Things change all the time. Humans used to believe the earth was flat. The Athenians once thought of Plato’s bullshit as the gospel truth, and—

You dared to assume you’ll be on top of the world forever.

What happened months ago was a reality check, and slowly but surely, you’re relearning the difference between ambitious and obnoxious. It’s a humbling experience that you’re honestly grateful for happening because…if it weren’t for that harsh reminder that there’ll always be someone out there who’s better than you, then you wouldn’t strive to improve at all.

You let out a quaint sigh when you settle into the train. As expected, tonight’s commuters have filled it out to complete capacity, and you wouldn’t have caught the last available space near the doors if you hadn't sprinted like a madman. Though your aching muscles practically scream in complaint, you comfort yourself with the promise of a long soak in your bathtub the moment you get home.

The smooth tone of the announcer’s voice rings from the overhead speakers, telling all passengers to step away from the doors, as the train is about to leave. Not that any of you can help it. You’re all packed like sardines in what’s usually a pretty spacious train car if you came in just an hour earlier or later. 

All of a sudden, you find yourself missing those days where you’d sit on the side where you could see the sunset breezing past the windows—listening to the stories of someone you can’t even hold a civilized conversation with anymore. But before that train of thought can progress any further, you shake your head as if the mere gesture alone can dispel your longing.

You try to press yourself back to avoid getting crushed by the automatic doors, muttering a quiet apology to the person behind you since you ended up subsequently squeezing him further into the crowd of cramped passengers. When the doors finally close, you hear him say a quick it’s okay, back at you, you’re forced to whip around in the limited space with your mouth agape.

Right behind you is Xu Minghao, looking just as distressed as you are.

He’s changed out of his usual practice clothes—having exchanged it for an oversized crewneck and sweats. His expensive headphones hang unused around his neck, and you wonder if you wouldn’t have noticed each other if only he was blasting music directly into his ears…

The urge to take back your courteous apology is strong, but you would much rather not give him any more of your energy than you already have. You’d take all his insults and badmouthing head-on in the studio, but it’s been a really long day, and you don’t have enough fire going to extend his hostility inside a crowded train in the middle of rush hour. 

“Why’re you out so early?”

You can feel gooseflesh prickle the skin of your shoulders when you feel Minghao’s breath next to your ear. A glare settles between your eyes as you jolt away from him in the limited space that affords you to do so. 

“Watch it, asshole. You’re way too close for comfort,” you hiss. “And the time I go home is none of your business.”

Minghao shrugs. “I dunno, you always stay late to practice. Is it so bad to be curious?”

“Yeah, because if it hasn’t occurred to you yet, I actually hate your guts, and I don’t appreciate you talking to me like we’re friends.”

He falls silent for a moment, and in the next moment the train lurches into motion—nearly catching you off balance. You’re quick to brace a hand against the door, but you startle again when you feel a large hand around your arm, touching you in a way that’s meant to steady. You spare Minghao another glance, but there’s less vitriol laced in your gaze and more confusion.

“Are we…” he whispers, gaze shied away from yours as he maintains a steady grip on your arm. Then, he gulps. “Are we not friends anymore?”

Again, you scowl. 

Is he being real with you right now?

“Dude, I am completely over the monthly evaluations if you think that’s the reason I’m being the way I am with you,” you hiss. “I was going to apologize after I said all that hurtful stuff in the past. But then you went ahead and started writing your very own villain arc. So, ask yourself: were you even my friend at all, Hao?”

The sound of that nickname making its way past your lips is familiar yet foreign at the same time. During these past few months, you’ve never once called Minghao anything else but asshole, dick, jerk, self-centered punk, and other variations of those words. You don’t want to admit it, but calling him by something that’s close to an endearment makes you feel like there’s cotton sticking to the roof of your mouth. 

Minghao doesn’t respond yet again, and you force yourself to face forward—leaning your head against the glass of the door so you wouldn’t have to look back at him anymore. You’re pretty sure the salaryman right next to you has been eavesdropping on your conversation this entire time, but it’s not like he has any other choice given the circumstances. 

You let the constant whir of the train engine lull you into a calmer disposition, heartbeat finally equalizing after everything you just shot at Minghao. That’s probably the most you’ve said to him all month, and to say that you’re not the least bit embarrassed about how you admitted wanting to apologize for a past transgression is a blatant lie. 

But what’s done is done. You’re just going to have to accept the fact that the man you once thought of as a good friend; the same man who’s now the main antagonist of your life and career, is standing behind you in your rush hour commute. Just twenty minutes more, and he’ll be out of your hair soon. 

Much to your delight, Minghao keeps his mouth shut until the train pulls over at the next station. The doors open with a mechanical ding, accompanied by the announcer's voice yet again. You’ve heard the monologue thousands of times, but you don’t quite hear it over the throng of passengers rushing to get off the train. 

You make way for them by scooting towards the back of the car, and Minghao does the same. But instead of shuffling away from you the moment there’s more room to move around like you thought he would, he lingers closely to your form. 

However, the amount of people that got off on this station is quickly replenished by a new horde of passengers—quickly filling in the space you thought would last for at least a few more stations. Once again, you find yourself slowly being squeezed closer to the corner of the car, but for some reason, Minghao wedges himself between you and the unassuming college boy whose wireless earphones are plugged in as he scrolls through his phone. 

When you realize what he’s trying to do, you say, “You don’t have to protect me or anything. I’m fine on my own.”

Minghao rolls his eyes. “You obviously didn’t see how you looked like you’re about to get crushed. Just thank me and we’re good.”

A biting retort is already resting on your tongue with how passive-aggressive that response of his sounds like. What the hell is his problem? It’s not like you asked for him to shield you from the other passengers. 

And yet…

“Thanks, I guess.”

You watch him visibly stiffen at your words, and you feel your heart slamming into your ribcage the moment you utter them. Did you really just thank the same man who’s been making your life at work a living hell for months?

The train starts to pick up speed again before you can answer that yourself.

You practically glare at the corner you’ve been forced into the entire trip to the next station. Minghao is right behind you, but you can’t be assed to worry about that when you’re chewing your lip out of frustration. Part of you feels relieved that you swallowed your pride and thanked him, but the part that’s been receiving the brunt of his antagonism for the past half year hisses in disagreement.

He’s an asshole. He’s a self-centered prick that uses people as stepping stones. He’s—

“...Sorry.”

You refuse to turn around. You refuse to believe that he’s actually—

“I’m sorry for being a jerk to you,” Minghao murmurs, and you feel his fingers graze your shoulder as if to emphasize the words with the sincerity of his touch. “I just… I didn’t know how to act when you lashed out at me back then. Y-You were my only friend, and I thought you’d be proud that I achieved something after working so hard for an entire month.”

You’re at a loss for words, completely stunned by the honesty in his voice. You’ve only known Minghao for a short while—been on good terms with him for even shorter—but you can always tell whenever he’s lying. 

This is not one of those times.

“A…friend of mine told me that I tend to act based on how I’m treated,” he continues. “I know that doesn’t excuse how I’ve been acting around you for so long, but… I guess when I got the hint that you hated me, the only way I could cope with that is to hate you right back. Even if I really didn’t.”

No. This isn't real. You’re dreaming. This is probably a side-effect from all those late hours you’ve spent in the studio—

You let out a soft squeak when you feel him rest his forehead against the back of your head, sighing so deeply, it makes you wonder how long he’s been thinking about apologizing properly. Minghao grips your arms again, not to help maintain your balance, but more to anchor himself onto his own. 

“I don’t care if everyone else in the studio looks at me like I’m some sort of god on the dancefloor,” he admits, voice so quiet, you could barely hear him. “The only person I’d want to look at me is you.” 

Your breath hitches, and you’re sure he hears it. 

“Can we please go back to normal again?” Minghao pleads. “I miss hearing your comments about my dances. I miss going home together.

“I miss you.”

The sincerity in his voice singes through you like a red-hot iron poker. You don’t know what to say, what to feel. All you can focus on is the stuttering breaths Minghao takes from behind you. 

If you’ve ever imagined reconciling with him, this certainly isn’t the most optimal venue. But now that he’s bared his defenses, you don’t see any benefit to keeping up your own.

“I’m…sorry and I missed you, too,” you admit somewhat sheepishly, thanking the higher deities up there that he can’t see the way your blood rushes to your cheeks. “But I don’t really know how to—”

Your sentence is cut off mid-way when the train abruptly runs into a bump on the tracks, forcing Minghao’s body against yours when he momentarily loses his footing. It’s an accident, and you wouldn’t have minded since some turbulence in this part of the city isn't rare at all. But that split second where Minghao got thrown against you from the impact made you all too cognizant of how thin the material of both your skirt and his sweatpants are.

“Sorry, sorry,” Minghao sighs before bracing an arm towards one of the walls to your left. The rustle of his clothes gives rise to the scent of his cologne wafting to your nostrils—a fresh, not-too-musky aroma that makes your head spin despite.

Just your luck, the train pitches to the side and you feel Minghao’s groin brush against your ass once again. This time, you’re not strong enough to hold down the soft whimper that tumbles out of your lips, and you don’t even feel ashamed about it.

Suddenly, you remember a time from back then where you’d spend your nights getting off to the same man who’s unknowingly sparking your arousal in the unlikeliest of places. You’ve once fucked yourself to the thought of him, so what’s the use with getting embarrassed now? As long as he doesn’t know, you should be fine.

Except Minghao isn’t deaf, and he definitely picked up on that suggestive little noise you just made.

Experimentally, he lets one of his hands dip lower and lower until his fingertips brush the hem of your skirt. That sinfully short skirt that keeps riding up your thighs every time you do a rather bold move during practice. His eyes are completely trained on you even if you’re still facing the corner, and when he feels you shiver, all the blood in his system rushes down south.

“You’re into this?” Minghao chuckles, bracing his hands on your hips before sliding his growing arousal against the ridge of your ass. “My… I didn’t think mending our friendship again would go this swimmingly. How about I take you out to dinner first?”

“Hao!” you chastise him with a poisonous look, but from the way you subtly rock your hips in time with his movements, Minghao can tell that dinner is the last thing on your mind right now.

He chuckles softly, keeping one hand steady on your hip while the other dips beneath your skirt again. When his fingers immediately press down against the gusset of your underwear, Minghao has to bite down a groan because of the wet patch that’s already accumulated at the center. 

“Not only did you ditch your shorts, but you’re already this wet? From a little grinding?” he hisses into your ear. “Needy fucking slut.”

You can’t help the way your pussy clenches at the harsh name he just called you. It’s all so strange. You never once reacted this way whenever he called you a bitch or anything similar, but you suppose when you’ve made amends with a friend you’ve secretly been wanting to fuck since you first laid your eyes on him, there’s no use keeping up any charades.

“Your hatred was all just an act, isn’t it?” he laughs, nudging your underwear to the side so he can get a feel of just how wet you areas you spread your legs to accommodate him. “Do you rile me up on purpose because you can’t deal with the fact that you actually want me?”

"You're delusional," you bite back.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

Another low laugh rumbles in his chest and you swear you don't get wetter with each hum of it as he presses closer to your ear. "Lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart."

You’re about to answer him when the announcer’s voice rings from the speakers yet again, saying that the next station is approximately five minutes away. This promptly rips you out of your lustful haze as you realize you’re very much still in public, where dozens upon dozens of passengers still share the same car with the both of you. Minghao seems to pick up on your split-second realization, but doesn’t seem fazed by the idea of getting caught doing this in the presence of strangers.

“Lots of passengers are going to get off at the next station, but not a lot are going to get on like the last one,” he whispers before plunging two of his fingers into your sopping cunt without warning. 

You have to physically cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself from gasping out loud. When you turn to look at Minghao again, eyes ablaze with disbelief, he simply flashes you an evil smile.

“If you want to come on my fingers, do it in five minutes, whore.”

The sensation of his long, slender digits curling inside you forces you to brace yourself against your tiny little corner of that train car. Your skin prickles everywhere as Minghao grinds his half-hard cock against your backside, all while he works between your pussy lips as if he’s thought about it dozens of times before. 

His digits dip in and out of your entrance like he doesn’t know what he wants to do first. Poke and prod at every inch of sensitive flesh there is or fuck you until you’re a moaning mess for everyone to see. Either way, you’re panting all while Minghao maps the expanse of your pussy with his touch alone, and every time those sinful fingers brush against your clit, you jolt in response.

“Shh,” he coos. “Don’t be too obvious, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want the entire train knowing how much of an impatient fucking slut you are—whoring all over my fingers ‘cause you can’t wait to get off the train.”

You involuntarily clench at his filthy words, begrudgingly unearthing a kink you didn’t even know you had. But at the mere mention of the other passengers, you let your eyes frantically pass over those nearby. You don’t know if they’re really preoccupied on their phones or pretending not to notice the act of indecency that’s happening right beneath their noses. The college boy that almost crushed you earlier is still banging his head to whatever song is playing on his phone, and you take that as a sign to let yourself go.

“Now that won’t do,” Minghao tuts before sliding his fingers back inside you, nudging your thighs even further apart before curling his digits just so. “How can you come in five minutes if you’re so distracted?”

“F-Fuck,” you whine as quietly as you can. “Hao, f-feels so good.”

“Yeah?” he laughs softly and your vision goes black for a moment when you feel his thumb graze your clit with just the right pressure. Just how dextrous can he be? “Then focus on my fingers, sweetheart. If you can’t come before the train arrives at the next station, maybe I’ll just go back to hating you tomorrow after all.”

You nearly choke on a moan when he starts to rub your sensitive nub in varying pressures and speeds, nearly robbing you of your ability to speak. “You’re a f-fucking asshole, you know that?”

“You’re a fucking bitch, but see where that got you now?”

It’s almost like you’re hard-wired to rebut everything he says, and you have all those months of shared antagonism to thank for it. But when Minghao crooks his fingers at a slightly different angle, your already sore legs nearly give out when his fingers hit you deep enough to make stars dance in the seams of your vision.

“Oh?” He sounds so smug, you actually want to hit him. “There it is.”

You can hardly believe it. You can barely find your own g-spot even on good days if you don’t put your back into using your toys right, yet Minghao got it in less than five minutes, inside a train full of passengers, no less?

Your brain has all but fizzled out when the pads of his fingers start to massage that sweet, sweet spot inside of you again—milking your body for all those lovely reactions you’re so willing to give to him. Minghao’s cock is an ever-present weight against your ass, but this isn’t about him. It’s about you, and how badly he wants to feel you come apart on his fingers right here, right now.

“You liked being fingered on the train, sweetheart?” Minghao rasps into your ear, relentless in his movements as tears start to line your lashes. “Like it when you supposedly hate the man that’s doing this to you? That’s made you this fucking wet?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You’d let him stick his dick into you right now if he wanted, but you know that Minghao isn’t going to risk that just yet. So instead, you focus on the sensation of those skillful fingers—the same ones you’ve dreamt about a long time ago—coaxing out a high you never thought you’d achieve outside the four corners of your bedroom. 

You can think about his stroke game later. Those powerful thighs as he thrusts into you. Not to mention how euphoric it would feel to come around his cock, milking him for that white-hot release until it dribbles down your thighs and he inevitably fucks it all back into you—

The stimulation of Minghao’s dexterous digits coupled with the thrill of being caught are the main players for today’s debauchery, but it’s that particular fantasy that pushes you over the edge. 

One moment, you feel like you’re on top of the world again, and the next you can taste blood in your mouth with how hard you bite against your lip to muffle your moans. A gush of slick coats Minghao’s fingers as he helps you ride out of your orgasm, peppering the side of your face with butterfly kisses.

“Pretty little whore, coming in record time,” he chuckles.

You can barely just start taming your breathing when Minghao takes his fingers out of your panties—tugging your skirt down back to semi-decency before prodding those same fingers against your lips. Still dazed from the high he just let you experience, you open your mouth, lathering your tongue against each digit as the tangy taste of you fills your tastebuds. 

“Good fucking girl.”

The train eases into the next station, and just as Minghao predicted, the car frees up just enough for you to get comfortably seated by the windows again. He sits right next to you the whole time—hand never straying from yours as he holds it firmly in his. For some reason, that gesture of his flusters you more than the stunt he just pulled five minutes ago.

When you both get off the vehicle, the awkwardness begins to settle in your system. You don’t know what you’re supposed to say to him after all of...that. Is there even a protocol to follow after getting finger-fucked on public transportation?

“Hey.”

You startle when Minghao breathes out while the two of you make your way out of the station. It’s the first time he’s broken the silence since arriving, and your heart pounds in anticipation of what he’s about to say next.

“I really am sorry for all the shit I said to you these past few months,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his head like he’s just as clueless about what to do as you are.

You blink up at him. “Um, yeah. You already told me, Hao.”

“I just figured it was worth repeating.”

“Giving me a mindblowing orgasm is a good enough apology on its own, you know.”

He stops walking for a moment, and you look back at him with brows raised.

“Really now?” he asks, and—there’s that smirk again. That no good smirk. “I don’t think I’ve received a ‘good enough apology’ from you yet, sweetheart.”

One glance at his sweats, and sure enough, the evidence of his own raging arousal is still up for grabs. You feel your pussy tingle at the mere thought of what’s to come once you voice out your agreement, even if your overworked muscles are begging for a break.

Oh, well. Might as well stock up on more painkillers on the way.

⟢ end notes: i really really REALLY went overboard on this one and there isn't even any piv sex in action holy fucking shit LMFAO TT to lovely user yourfavoritefreakyhan, i hope i didn't scare you off with the word count JSHFD I REALLY JUST GOT CARRIED AWAY AHAHS hao has been testing me for DAYS and it manifested in this . anyway, pls don't expect every request from my ask game to turn out this fucking long bc this rly was just a heat of the moment creation AJSDHSJHF

[iwrotetheilliad]

3AM

♡ Sae is mad. You’re a stubborn bitch. Put that together and that equals hate fuck

Genre: P WITHOUT P ;) also a little fluff at the end

CW: Oh lord there’s quite a bit. The biggest one is def that this entire situation is a bit toxic cuz y’all are flirting in a fight. Ig u could think of it as cheating, but I don’t so. SAE IS A BITCH. He also calls u a bitch so be warned that he is mean af. Also degradation. Slapping, hair pulling, clothes getting ripped off is also there. No prep as well. Unprotected sex babes. Theirs is also mentions of hickies and heavy making out. Sae manhandles you a bit. THAT SHOULD BE ALL THE TRIGGERING CONTENT MATERIAL BUT BE WARNED THAT THIS IS SMUT SO PLS PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!

Characters: Sae Itoshi

A/N: thé sae brain rot has been BAD. Like there was so much in my head, so this fic is honestly just like, a small portion of the smutty thoughts and hcs I’ve had. I’ll probably write more if this does well!

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sae demands.

“Oh please,” you scoff, tossing your black clutch purse onto the bed. “There is nothing wrong with me, she had it coming.”

You whip your head around to face your husband. He stands in the doorway, his white shirt slightly unbuttoned, letting some of his collar bone peak out at you. Anger and jealousy flood throughout your body again at the thought of what that cunt did. You can practically see the line she traced with her nail across Sae’s neck. To get back at her, you had pretended to bump into her, practically tossing you wine all over her. It was a shame honestly- because of her inability to take a hint, her pristine white dress left the body with a giant wine stain adorning her side. Good thing you wore a black dress. It just looked like someone’s spilt water on you.

still the way you spilled the wine was very obvious. What can you say? Acting’s never been your strong suit. People were bound to notice, and although no one said it to your face, it’s obvious that they knew you’d done it on purpose.

it’s fine, after all, if they were in your situation they would’ve done the same.

“Y/N,” Sae groaned tearing off his overcoat. “You can’t just ruin-”

“The dress was ruined the moment it touched her skin.”

“You are fucking horrible.”

“No, Sae! You know what’s horrible? You did absolutely nothing to stop her!” You shout storming towards him.

“Oh shut up, yes I did,” he replies, shoving past you.

“Oh I’m sure that tent you have in your pants was trying very hard to shove her away from you,” you roll your eyes, pursuing him.

You knew right know was not the time, but Sae’s back looked very nice in that shirt. It hugged his muscles in all the right ways.

“Are you insane?” He growls, spinning around to stare you down. You didn’t back down though, sizing up to his gaze.

“I fucking wish,” you say just as lowly. “Look, it’s still there.”

You cast your eyes down to where his dick was in fact pressing up against his pants. It looked uncomfortable, and if the night had gone any better, you would’ve loved to help him, but right now, sex did not seem anywhere within your near future.

“You’re actually fucking mental,” Sae rolls his eyes, straightening himself out. “I cannot stand you when your like this.”

“You can’t stand me?!”

“No!”

“Sae! She was flirting with you. That bitch was unashamed and practically choking you in the middle of the hall!” You scream. “You are so frustrating sometimes. You cannot say that you can’t stand me, when you’re like this!”

“Like what?”

Hot.

“Oblivious.”

“Better than being a jealous bitch.”

“The fuck did you just call me?” You ask, stalking towards him like you’re about to pounce on your prey.

Sae didn’t move, just stared down into your eyes as you two came chest to chest.

“You heard me,” he muttered hotly.

From being this close, you can see something you weren’t able to recognize just moments ago. Sae’s pupils had blown up, almost completely block the aqua of his irises. His breath was hot against your face, and his lips were such a pretty pink-red color. His hair was pushed off to the side, making him look so much more handsome than he did normally. It was all so much, and you couldn’t tell if the sudden feeling in your blood was lust, anger, or a weird mix of both.

“Fucking try saying that shit again,” you mutter lowly.

He shivers. “You are such a fucking bitch.”

His hands slowly traces curves through the skintight fabric. They travel up your ass to the small of your back, and then slide back down to the swell of your ass. He offers a light squeeze, before leaning over you.

“You,” he begins, “are such a jealous. Fucking. Bitch.”

You hands move on their own accord, shoving Sae back onto the bed. Shock doesn’t last long in him though, because just moments later, you’re falling on top of him. Your arms wrap around his neck, and the swell of his dick is pressing against panties you wear underneath this dress. His hands stop balancing himself, and he reaches up to drag them all over your body. He starts rubbing them over your back, before moving down to your ass. He gropes them unabashedly now, guiding them over his crotch. His left one stays leading your ministrations, and his right hand goes up to your scalp. Grabbing a handful of hair, he pulls you back, a string of saliva lingering between your mouth as you pant. Your eyes are lidded as you stare into his. There is not a single doubt in your mind right now that you look like a fucking whore, and you know he’s thinking the same thing.

Sae pulls your hair again, this time making your head tilt back. You raunchily moan out, and his mouth immediately finds a new home on your neck.

“You are such a dick,” you gasp out as he sucks hickies into your skin. “Mmmmmm.”

“Yeah?” He growls, pulling away from you. “I’m a fucking dick huh?” He releases your hair to slap your ass. “I’m a fucking dick? Dirty bitch.”

His other hand slaps your ass again. Moans break free from your throat, involuntarily, of course. “Yes,” you whimper. “You’re so fucking horrible.”

Sae lifts you off the bed with absolutely no effort whatsoever. It’s infuriating how strong he is. His lips find yours again and soon enough, the kisses devolve into something sloppy. You hear the bed creak again, as Sae kneels onto it. He drops you onto the mattress of a sudden.

You land on your side, with your left leg hiked up over your right one. You lean on your right forearm and push yourself up with your left hand. You toss your hair over your shoulder and glare at him.

“What’s wrong?” you sneer, “afraid that your gonna cum in your pants like a fucking virgin?”

Sae is quick to lean over you, continuing the messy kisses. He shoves you down so that you’re entirely on your stomach now, and with his free arm, pulls your ass into the air. He pulls your dress over your butt, revealing the lacy black underwear you’re clad in.

“Me? Cum in my pants?” He growls. “With how wet you are, you might as well have already came.” He leans down to lick up your pussy through your panties, further wetting the already soaked fabric. “Might as well just leave you like this huh? Since you already fucking finished.”

Desperate thoughts want you to scream at him to not, but your stubborn ass decides against that. “And what? Jerk off in the bathroom? You’d still be imagining me in there.”

Sae backs away from you, and grabs the top of the back of the dress. He pulls, and you are now just sitting on all fours. You’re confused as to what he’s doing, before he grabs the same spot with the other hand. Soon, there’s a loud riiippp, and the fabric falls off your body in one giant piece.

“That was fucking expensive,” you growl, as Sae flips you onto your back.

“As if a cunt like you pays attention to the price of shit. I’ve spoiled you too much huh? You need a good lesson.”

You gulp, but still try to mask your fear. “What are you gonna do?”

His left hand traces your neckline, before wrapping tightly around the bruise littered column. “Maybe I will just leave you here like this,” he muses. “Your pussy soaking wet, begging for my cock.”

“Then I’d just cum myself,” you laugh sinisterly. “I’m thinking I’ll get off to Ryusei in my mind what do you think.”

Another loud crack echoes through the room, but now the sting isn’t in your ass. You cheek burns as you yelp. Sae backhands you next, creating to bright red glows on your face.

“You bitch,” his voice sounds demonic, like he’s two seconds away from becoming evil.

“You were gonna be the one leaving me here needy!” You cry out, trying to lean up. His hand on your neck pushes you back down though.

“Shut up.” Another loud rip, and your pussy is suddenly exposed to the world. The cold air is oddly nice. “I’m gonna make you regret everything you’ve said.”

“You can’t do that.”

“If you cum,” he starts. His hand traces your lips, and his voice grows a mockingly gentle as he whispers, “I’ll tie you up to the headboard, stick a vibrator against that clit, and drain you dry until your begging and screaming and crying yourself hoarse. Ok, baby?”

The pet name is new. Normally when you two hate fuck, he ignores all of them, but the sudden presence of it makes you realize that your actually in deep shit right now.

“Do your worst,” you command.

Sae doesn’t even prep you. He undoes his belt with one hand, unbuttons his pants with the other, and swiftly drags them down with his underwear. His dick springs out, hard, pink, leaking precum. You want to suck his dick so bad, make him feel so fucking good, but you push that urge down.

He lines himself up against your pussy, and in one move, starts fucking you ruthlessly. He’s going fast, he’s going hard, he’s doing everything that he needs to be doing to make pleasure erupt in your body like only he can.

Moans tumble from your lips but you literally do not care whatsoever that this is your admitting to him making you feel good. That stubbornness is quite literally being fucked out of you, and right now your perfectly ok with it.

“S-s-sae…”

“Hm?” He hums shakily from above you. “Do you need to come already?”

Never mind, the stubbornness is back.

“N-no. I just wanted to tell you that you can’t fuck to save your life.”

Somehow, he gets faster and harder. You hadn’t even thought that possible, yet here you are, getting your shit absolutely rocked.

“Really?” Sae mocks as you whimper louder.

“Yes,” you reply, not daring to back down.

Sae doesn’t say anything else, content to just let you go insane on his cock, however much you try to deny it. He can tell when you’re close. He’s fucked you so many times that he’s memorized every tell that your body has to offer. Right now, your eyes are becoming heavy, almost looking like you’re about to fall asleep. They’re also turning super glossy, despite no tears falling. When he feels your hole repeatedly clamping onto him without letting go, making yourself feel even more tight, he knows your going to cum.

“You can’t cum baby,” he growls.

“O-ok, I wasn’t going to,” you sigh as he continues screwing you.

“Good job,” he says mockingly.

You don’t miss the sarcasm drowning his words, and somehow, you find the strength in you to reach up and slap him. When he doesn’t say anything, you backhand him. A couple seconds go by, before he commands, “Harder.”

You slap him again.

“Harder.”

You slap him again.

“Goddamit, I said harder bitch!”

You slap him, then yank on his hair for good measure.

“Still can’t cum,” he groans, pleasure overtaking every nerve of his body.

“Sae!” You cry when he starts ramming into just the right spot.

“No. Cumming. Baby.”

“Sae, please!” You sob. You’re trying, you really are. “Sae!”

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry!” you moan out finally. “Sae please, I’m sorry I’ve been- oh my god please Sae, please just let me cum!”

“That’s it baby. That’s all I wanted from you,” his voice suddenly saccarine sweet. “You can cum baby don’t worry.”

Your orgasm is so intense, you almost pass out. Every part of your body is lit on fire, you feel like your blood is lava. There’s it not a single inch of your body left untouched by this overwhelming pressure that does nothing but consume you. It feels like you’re drowning at the same time as flying. Your back arches and finally, you feel satisfied with something that’s happened tonight.

Sae fucks you until he comes, and the feeling is pretty much the exact same as yours. Nerve shattering pleasure follows each thrust he sends into you. His thighs shake at the end.

When he finally gets a good look at you, he watches the red painted across your skin, shining from sweat. Your hands cover your face, and a twinge of remorse stings at his heart.

“Y/N?” he hesitantly moves to touch your hand. When you don’t pull away, he lifts your hands off of your face. Your eyes stay closed though. You’re not crying which is good.

Sae sighs, and steps out of his pants. His shirt sticks to his skin with sweat, so he removed it before walking to the bathroom. Right next to it is a cabinet with towels, which he grabs a fresh one from. Going into the bathroom, he cleans himself off, dampens the towel and goes to clean you off. Your eyes are still closed, but you respond to his touch. He wipes the inside of your legs, and then chucks the towel somewhere behind him. He walks to the bedroom door, where his lounge shirt and sweatpants hang. He slides the sweatpants on, and then grabs the shirt.

“Y/N, I need you to sit up.”

Slowly, you pull yourself up. Sae pulls the shirt over you, and you adjust your arms through the sleeves. It’s only after that do you open your eyes to look at him.

Your eyes have darkens but a little bit of light still reflects in them. You look exhausted though, which he supposes is only fair.

“Sae…” you whisper, collapsing against his body. He wraps his arm around you, hugging you firmly against him.

“I’m sorry too,” he mutters. “I shouldn’t have… encouraged, I guess, what she was doing.”

You’re silent for a few beats, before murmuring, “It’s ok.”

“No it’s not.”

“To me it is now,” you say, leaning back to look him in the eyes.”

“Why?” He snorts. “Cuz we fucked.”

“Because you apologized,” you roll your eyes. “That’s all that I wanted.”

You end up falling asleep against Sae and when you wake up, the two of you are curled up underneath a blanket on the couch. Figures, the bed was probably messy. After all, it always is after your 3 AM activities.

A/N: Goddam.

[sharklovingaquarist]

It's kinda crazy to me how many people hate their mom, especially since fathers suck so much. Like, I don't think there's many cases where a father has done more than a mother even if she's not #1 mommy robot to everyone (and is obviously a valuable woman because of it!) Yet all you hear is "my ex-mother." It always has a poorly hidden scent of gender bias in it. The emphasis on mother, not the parent aspect of it. A lot of times, it seems the word "mother" is used as an insult by people against their moms, judging by the tone they use it in. Another trend I see with the "mommy issue" crowd is blaming their mothers for their fathers abuse. The constant "she allowed him to hurt me" as if women aren't often being hurt, too. Especially with step fathers. You all focus more on the mother than the stepfather, but change it to father and stepmother, and it's still on the women. And don't get me started on emotional labor. "I was emotionally neglected" and they only blame their mother.... girl.... you do realize your father should've been providing half of that labor right? And that's exactly why they get more angry at their mom. What men lack is pinned on women.

The mommy issues crowd also love to downplay people who have issues with their father. "Well, it's just not as serious. Mommy issues change your brain chemistry 😔🥀⚰️🖤"... like, is this a "✨️trauma✨️" off to millennials and chronically online gen z queers? It just tells me everything I need to know about average parental relationships and gender roles within them. Children hurt moms, and moms hurt children, but the father who throws the kindling into the fire sits back and enjoys the show. The father is the one who hasnt lifted a single FINGER in his life, or when he has its hurt even MORE than the petty things the mother has done.

I used to be in this position. You're told that your mom is the primary parent, so everything falls on her. But I think it takes a certain maturity and self-awareness. When you get to that in between age where you are approaching being thrown into the hellscape of modern heterosexuality, you start to humanize your mother again. Start to see the trap and how she fell into it. Start to see how no human can survive it without cracking at least a bit. It gets dark. You see how you fueled a situation that could very possibly resemble your future life. You see how you saw your mother as a robot. We are taught that she's supposed to be robotic. So when the mommy persona cannot be held up... shes defective. You see how your father was just an audience member. And some women don't wake up like that. The start of internalized misogyny, within all women, is with your mother. Frankly, I'm impressed women don't murder families more than men due to the dynamic, but lord, when they do, you don't hear the end of it. It all reminds me of why I'll never allow myself to be a mother. Youre either a good girl who gets pat on the head or an evil bitch who will rot in hell.

Last time I said something like this I was called a child abuser apologist so 🤷‍♀️ ig I'll embrace it. I dont think there's no such thing as an abusive mom, but that shit is so rare compared to dad's. But yall are absolute silence on that end.

And to add on, it's the attitude with how gender changes a parents role. People see mothers as someone who services, while fathers are someone to be proud of. Mommy loves me and daddy is cool and proud. Women are not cherished within the dynamic, we are just taken from. So, Imma be real, when I hear someone talk about how they cut their mother off because of this new wave of "parents (and by that we mean moms) have to be perfect and you have every right to cut them off!" I automatically assume it's some petty shit. Yall see moms as hivemind maids. Any little screw up means she's not your servant. Meanwhile ur dad could slam you into a wall and he's dad of the year haha you know how dad's are. MOMMY YOU HAVE TO BE MY EMOTIONLESS ROBOT WHILST ALSO PUTTING ON THE MOST RIDICULOUS EMOTIONAL PERSONA IN THE WORLD YOU REVOLVE MEEEEEEE 🥺

[mwahmwahkissesdarling]

My A'aru, My Heaven

Pairing: Ahkmenrah x Fem/Maybe Genderfluid Reader

Summary: A taste testing night with a sprinkle of love (and religion ig)

Warnings: Kissing, fluff, extreme fluff, err fluff, more fluff, Cussing maybe, spelling and grammar mistakes, controversial topic, religion, me writing Christianity as someone who is not Christian, uhhh lmk if i need to put any other warnings???? idk

Note: yall the ahkmenrah brain rot is ... rotting? my brain? so hard

Alsooooooo this is my first fic (on this acc, posted anyway) so be easy

*A'aru is the Egyptian equivalent of Heaven for Christians <33 #wikipedia

You rip open a colorful package and hand it to Ahkmenrah.

"Here, these are gummy worms."

The Pharoah looked alarmed. "You eat…worms?"

You laugh. "Theyre not real worms. Here, just try one."

Ahk glances at you, unconvinced, but he takes a red and blue gummy in between his fingers and nibbles at it.

"Hm."

"Well?" You bit into yours and watched his reaction.

He shrugs. "Theyre… enjoyable, I suppose, but I don't prefer them myself."

You grin. "Yeah, me niether, I just wanted to see what you thought." You turn in your criss-cross-applesauce position on the floor in Ahkmen's exhibit to pick out a new candy and come back with two tin wrapped chocolate pieces. Picking one out, you hand it to him. "Have a Kiss," you joke.

Ahk stares at the candy in his hand, then back at you. "S-sorry?"

You look back at him, then realizing he wouldn't know the name of this candy, you laugh. "It's the name of the candy. Hershey Kisses." He slowly smiles. "Well, I wouldn't say no to a kiss, either." You roll your eyes. "Seriously-"

Ahk cuts you off with his lips. You lean into the kiss, setting your 'Kiss' down and running your hands up his torso and into his hair, letting your fingers tangle there. He cups your face with one hand and places the other on his sarcophagus case behind you, pressing you against it. You let him, knowing he usually doesn't take control like this.

After a moment, Ahk breaks away and breaths heavily, catching his breath.

"Do I really take away your breath that bad?" You joke, panting.

He runs his thumb against your bottom lip, his eyes flitting between your lips and your eyes. "Yes," He says simply. "You do."

You feel yourself blush and you smile. "Love you too, Ahk," was all you could get out.

Ahk smiles back and brushes his lips against your temple, then leans back, letting you have your space to continue taste-testing modern candy.

You resume your earlier position and cross your legs, pressing your knee against his as you grab your Hersheys. "Come on, eat it."

He groans but takes it and unwraps it with your guidance. He pops it into his mouth and his eyes widen.

You grin at him. "Right? Personally I prefer caramel with my chocolate, but I figured start small, y'know?"

Ahk slowly chews it. "Holy Ra. This is chocolate?" His mouth is still full, and you giggle at his bad manners. "Don't talk with your mouth full. Come on, King Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth kingdom of Egypt and all things fancy, have better manners." You tease and pause. "But yeah, it's chocolate. Although I'd describe it as heaven."

The Pharoah glanced at you, opening another Hershey. "I thought you said that was a place."

You nod, taking the Kiss out of his hands, throwing in the air, and catching it with your mouth. "Yeah. The place that Christians beleive is the perfect afterlife."

Ahk glares at you but otherwise ignores your theft. "You cant call a taste or an object heaven, then. It'd go against grammar rules and the belief of a Chrisin."

Swallowing, you shrug. "First of all, it's Christian, second of all, I don't think they care anymore, although don't quote me on that. My ma's Christian, and she refers to my mother as heaven."

He frowns, thinking. "So, you can call your other half 'heaven'?"

"Some people do," you pause. "Well. I've only ever heard it from my parents, and also Bruno Mars, but I think if someone says it in public, it's considered PDA. Public displays of affection." You reply to his confused look.

Ahk nods. "And thats… frowned upon." You make an "eh" sound. "Well, people don't particularly like it, but it's not as bad as, like, racism or something. Far from it." You scoff.

"So, for a… hypothetical example… I could call you heaven, but only in… private."

You turn and stare at him, a blush forming "W-well, yes, I-"

He kisses you, effectively shutting you up. You lose all train of thought, lost in his touch. He pulls you close, practically onto his lap before pulling away.

"You're my heaven." Ahk smiles at you, and you smile back.

"And you're my A'aru."

Your Pharoah, your king, your Ahk, your little slice of heaven, in your little corner of home.

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Nina The Killer Headcanons

Psycho Barbie’s turn in the spotlight!!!!

I’ve always thought Nina in concept was so fucking cool, like, an obsessed fangirl becoming a copycat killer always scratched a good niche in my brain, so I never hated her like most of the fandom did when I was younger, I just never really interacted with anything about her cause. The fandom hated her, lmao.

Expect canon typical violence/topics beyond this point pookies <3

TGIRL SWAG!!!!!!!!! Nina is trans I’m making it canon right now and you can’t do shit about it

Roughly about 25, two years younger than Jeff

Ann ain’t the only zombie adjacent character in the mansion

Nina actually has zero fucking clue why she keeps coming back every time Jeff murders her, but she’s having fun with it so ig it’s fine right?

Some of the more supernaturally intelligent members of the mansion also have no fucking idea what her deal is. By all accounts she should be dead and rotting a thousand times over

Eyeless Jack has done four vivisections on her and all yielded the same result, human

Except humans don’t bounce back after having their heart cut out????

Seconds after losing organs they just???? Reappear??? Inside her body???? What the fuck????

Out of everyone she’s a massive enigma. No one can figure it out but everyone loves using her as a guinea pig for murder purposes

Ya girl is such a masochist she actually gets disappointed when people don’t like testing new stabbing methods on her

She’s so unapologetically a freak, she’s cringe, but she’s free

Out of everyone in the mansion she’s the easiest to get along with

Sometimes to her detriment, her hyper extroverted personality off puts some of the more quiet and reserved inhabitants

No one truly hates her, you can’t exactly hate someone who doesn’t have a combative bone against you in their body, but not everyone likes to stick around her

It bothers her only a little bit when she’s noticed she’s pushed people away with her intense personality (it bothers her A LOT-)

She loves collecting and gifting trinkets and jewelry to people. The amount of Kandi bracelets she’s made Jeff and Ben, good lord-

The most persistent determined bitch in the world. You would have to nuke her entire existence to get her to stop focusing/going after something

Of course it ends up making her stubborn

Buuuuuuut she’s also an honorary favorite dog of Slenderman

The household often has monthly contests to see who can have the highest body count. You’ll never guess who’s almost always in the top 3

So she’s out on missions a lot. She comes back and gossips talks about what’s happened when she comes back two days later

Surprisingly doesn’t have a sweet tooth? You’d think with how manic she acts she injects sugar and caffeine into her bloodstream, but nope, she doesn’t. She hates fruit candies and can only stomach dark chocolate

Always comes back from hits and supply runs with tons of candy anyways to share with everyone

Is a SLUT for spicy foods

Ann had to cut her tongue off one time because she fucked it up so bad eating stuff that was borderline radioactive with how spicy it was

Everyone is convinced she would eat actual nuclear waste if given the chance just to feel the burn

The biggest foodie in general too. She’s not the best at cooking but everyone loves her pancakes

Ben made a joke one time about her putting crack in the batter. Two weeks later she had to apologize to mansion parents Masky and Hoody about why half the house was suffering withdrawal symptoms. Someone has to monitor her while she cooks now. Bummer.

She’s a total junkie but she is responsible about it at least dammit!

Like yeah she gets stoned out of her goddamn mind with Ben every other weekend, but that shit doesn’t leave her or his room

She has to set a good example for Sally!!!!!

The kid fucking adores Nina like a big sister

Nina is always bringing her goodies and toys

In return Sally does her makeup for the day

Does it look like a 5 year old scribbled all over her face? Yes and she doesn’t care!!!! She wears that shit with pride

Helen made fun of it once and he has since learned not to piss off the hyperactive pink glitter mayhem lady who knows how to wield a chainsaw

Oh yeah fuck knives. Nina got tired of knives pretty quick. Ya girl USES A CHAINSAW

It’s totally not the same kind of chainsaw Jeff used when he was a scare actor in college shut up no way

She’s really good with the thing too. It’s so heavy and she totes it around like it weighs nothing

She’s got such a sleeper build it’s insane. She’s 5”2 and 160 pounds of pure whoop ass

AND SHE DOES IT ALL IN PLATFORMS AND ACRYLIC NAILS??????

She’s just constantly full of energy and needs to be doing something at every second or she thinks she’ll explode

Besides her signature chainsaw covered in stickers and glitter, she’s also pretty handy with handguns, axes, and baseball bats

She’s got a small collection of weapons under her bed

Three guns (all customized with stickers and paint), a large axe (with a heart in the middle of the blade), and two baseball bats (one covered in nails)

Her room is a fucking mess but she knows where anything and everything is

Girl can’t even see her floor and she’s somehow able to find what she needs in there

Bead curtains, a disco ball, leopard print carpet on the ceiling, lava lamps, it looks like scene mixed with the 70’s threw up in there

Not exactly the most fashionable but has the biggest wardrobe and most flashy way of dressing

Like. I don’t even think she owns anything solid. Definitely not solid black

Has given herself many tattoos and piercings

To the point she’s so good at it that the others start coming to her asking for her to do the same to them

Her hair never stays one color for long, but often goes between red and purple

Is best friends/close with: Ben, Kagekao, Jason, LJ, Sally, the Puppeteer, Clockwork, and Jane

Has a tolerable relationship/is neutral about: Masky, Hoody, Liu, Eyeless Jack, Ann, Helen, and Slenderman

Hates no one

Has a… questionable relationship with Jeff

When first starting off he fucking hated her, but she was so goddamn persistent and just kept getting back up despite the multiple times he was certain he’d killed her, to the point she’s grown on him like a parasite

She sees him as her ultimate best friend, her ride or die, and he’s flattered…but he definitely doesn’t feel intensely as she does

Like he obviously doesn’t hate her anymore and actually quite enjoys her company. But she also annoys the shit out of him and he often finds himself needing a break from her constant state of “on”. Girl has no off switch

The two of them are often found lounging together and talking random shit, or sparring

She believes that somehow the first time he killed her, it gave her her weird zombie regeneration abilities

And of course she thinks that’s cool as fuck and nearly worshipped the ground he walks on because of it

The more time has passed the more she’s grown to stop feeling like she needs him to function

She went from making herself Jeff’s biggest fan her whole personality to becoming an actual decent person outside of her unhealthy obsession with him

Surprisingly never had any romantic feelings for the man

Like yeah she was obsessed but not like that

She just thinks he’s waaaaay cooler than other people see him as

Jane and Clockwork are her girl solidarity bffs

Jane was practically the girl’s mentor in how to be girl 101 when Nina was beginning to realize she was trans

Whereas Clockwork was her combat mentor who taught Nina everything she knows about kicking someone’s ass

They went from her cool lesbian moms to her cool lesbian besties

She’s one of the only few who can tolerate LJ’s nonsense

And by nonsense I mean his usual mad hatter ramblings and personality. Nina thinks it’s hilarious and loves that he’s just as down to clown (SORRY) as she is

Her, him, and Sally are the prank trio

The two would do anything to hear that little girl erupt into giggles

Her and Ben bond over scene fashion and old internet stuff

Ben is also her weed dealer. He’s everyone’s weed dealer but she gets special treatment and doesn’t have to pay him shit cause they’re besties

She’s a pretty positive person overall but cannot fucking stand/HATES anyone outside the mansion

She views everyone there like family

The outside world not so much. Bullying has really left her bitter

Hates blackmail but definitely holds grudges!!! It’s hard to get on her bad side though, so no one’s worried about it

Loves breakcore, kpop, jpop, any kind of hyper and electronic music, extra points if it’s pop

[slugg4rd]

Brain rot so bad I’m posting on Tumblr💔

Haymitch x gn reader rambling ig?!?!

Word count: 1.2k

He’s a stubborn alcoholic with depression who copes by being rude or otherwise sarcastic, you test his patience SO MUCH. He knows he hates you, that’s about it, but also he finds a good deal of fun in goading you and bantering with you whenever you’re around. This man is a handful, and he’s mean, and he has literally no patience for bs.

Idk how you win him over, the logistics don’t matter rn I’m going nutty thinking about him. Imo I love the whole co-mentor thingy, anything that forces him to be around you bc otherwise he’s off hiding somewhere moping. Like imagine being depressed together, fighting over your different tastes in drinks or coping. He’s hugging a whole bottle of liquor or maybe wine if it’s fancy enough and he’s scrutinizing your fruity cocktail like it’s any of his business.

Especially love the thought of getting drunk with him, at this point he just falls asleep when he’s buzzed but he’s trying to stay awake just to bicker and get as much of a reaction from you as he can. The only time he shuts up is if you roast tf out of him, he’d slump down into a chair or on the couch mumbling something barely coherent and then he’s out like a light.

Or, even better, you’re both sleepy drunks and start nodding off at the bar. You barely remember the walk to bed, all you know is somehow you’re still arguing with Haymitch. He throws himself onto the mattress, your mattress, both to piss you off and because he’s too burnt out to bother walking to his own bed across the hall. You flop down next to him and then all of a sudden you’re waking up hungover and half hugging that fool. The both of you freak out to find you’re in bed with one another, fearing the worst, and eventually having to accept the harsh reality that you spent the whole night cuddling and nothing more.

He doesn’t just refuse to admit he likes you, he’s literally oblivious to even the idea of it. No he definitely doesn’t enjoy your company, and he definitely doesn’t seek you out, and there’s no way he would ever think about you outside of your brief and unfortunate interactions. But then you start joking around talking about some pretty celebrity or a handsome victor from another district and suddenly he’s so defensive.

“Her? She’s two faced.”

“Him? He’s not even average.”

“Them? They’re frugal.”

He can’t even begin to realize he’s getting jealous, he’s too busy trying to shoot down all your compliments to these half baked crushes.

But if you compliment him he thinks you’re joking. You say he looks handsome and he’s all “Haha, very funny, y’know you look good too- with your mouth shut.” He’s gonna go for the jugular, but also he finds it getting harder and harder to insult you. Since when did your annoying smile become something he could tolerate? He must still be drunk..

You’ve wormed your way into his life and his head and suddenly you’re over at his house in the Victor’s Village, cleaning up for him while talking about self care and how he deserves it. You’re infuriating, and yet his lawn is trimmed and his walkway is clear of weeds and even his bookshelves are free of dust- and maybe he should go outside for a bit today and get some fresh air.

You’re tidying everything up and then he’s bringing you some old Knick Knacks, keeping track of your hobbies so he can leave you gifts, forcing you to sit down and relax for a minute between daily stressors. You call him an enabler and the laughter that follows makes your heart all fuzzy in the worst way. Every time you do something for him he thanks you in a way that makes it clear he didn’t think anyone would ever do this for him. And when you thank him for his gifts, his occasional reality checks, and his unwilling hospitality, he can’t help but feel more proud than he should that something he did held even an ounce of substance in your life.

How do you even confess??? Do you??? It’s like one second nothing was there and the next you both just agreed that you were a thing, end of discussion. He’s yours, you’re his. You’ve basically moved in at this point, and you’ve been egging him on and showing him he’s worth the effort, and it’s starting to get through his thick skull that maybe there’s worth in improvement. You don’t fix him, as I said before, he’s stubborn, but he finds his own rationale getting weaker and weaker each time he tries to argue why he should go out for drinks tonight. And then when things break and you’re telling him just what he means to you, he’s finding himself falling into you like a damn safety net.

And once he’s got you he is not letting go.

Protective is one thing, this man is clingy. Like Velcro. But he’s a brat and he’s not going to let you tell him how needy he is, it’s just a coincidence that he’s always by your side. He’ll say he’s “keeping you in line” its “your fault” because you’re in his way, but you both know he’s been following you around on his own fruition. He’s attached to your hip at this point, literally. He has a particular affinity though, and that’s hugging you from behind. He just comes up like he owns the place and wraps his arms around your midsection, shoving his face into the back of your neck with the biggest sigh he can muster. And if you reach up to play with his hair that’s it, he’s going to drag you to whatever couch is closest and have an impromptu nap session.

Also did I mention he’s petty? Because he is. And he’s annoying unlike anything. You go to sit down in a chair? He’s already seated in it, patting for you to come into his lap. You want to try a bite of his food? He’s making you take it from his mouth. You need to shower? He’s asking to come so he can keep you company. And if you let him join you, he’s 100% sitting there watching while going on about how “you missed a spot” just to see how irritated you can get.

Letting him come into the bathroom with you when you shower is like making a deal with the devil. This man is going above and beyond for your attention while you’re trying to focus on the task at hand. He’s definitely offering to help you out, saying he can scrub your back for you and all that, it’s up to you whether you let him join or kick him out.

Either way after you’re done he’s so soft and tender, wrapping you in a towel and drying your face off, saying you look like a drowned rat while also telling you that you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. He ruffles your hair with the towel just to squeeze it around you and grab you by your waist, pulling you until you kiss him. But if you’re still mad at him he’ll keep drying you off and messing with you until he can get you to crack a smile, and then he’s peppering kisses all over your cheeks as you push his face away.

He’s a nuisance, but he’s your nuisance, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ummm anywho that’s all I got 🙏

[under-the-dirt]

distractions.

hihihi!!! my brain is rotting away and this idea has been marinating in my decaying brain for a bit so here goes. as always, ignore bad spelling i try my best!!

tags ig?: non gendered reader x könig <333 cuddling, fluff, kissing, etc he’s just a teddy bear, established relationship :333

You were a little annoyed after your day at work. Although you’d been home for at least 2 hours, you were still finding yourself huffing and sighing as you carry out daily chores like tidying up the kitchen and ensuring the laundry is done. Walking into the living room, you find your massive boyfriend König sprawled across your couch, one arm up and one leg on the floor. He was just in a compression shirt and sweatpants, an outfit which made your drool without fail, and god he looked good. He was browsing some of your streaming services, looking for something to watch as you sat down by his legs with a huff.

“Something wrong, Schatz?” He asks sweetly, almost innocently, looking at you with those beautiful eyes. You grumbled softly, and he frowned.

“Don’t ignore me,” He says with a slight pout, giving you puppy eyes. You turned your head away, and he sat up, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you onto his chest. He pressed gentle kisses to your neck, keeping his arms firmly around your waist like a cage. A cage you could never fight, as he was absolutely huge and there was no way you could escape. You huffed softly, crossing your arms, and he continued to kiss your neck as his hands slowly maneuvered up your shirt. He did this until you were giggling and squirming.

“Ah, there you are.” He chuckles, pressing another kiss to the side of your neck and another to the crook of your neck, continuing to your collarbone. “What do you want to watch, Schatz?”

“hmm…” You think for a moment, before telling him your comfort movie. You flip over onto your chest, laying against on his chest as he lifts one arm to toy with the remote until clicking on your comfort movie. You smiled, nuzzling into his large chest.

“Always the best choice,” He smiles, putting the remote down and kissing the crown of your head. His arms wrap around your waist, one hand on your upper back and the other just above your butt. He hums softly, content with this position.

A little ways through the movie, you found yourself not paying attention, instead focusing solely on the feel of König’s lips against yours, the rough stubble on his chin grazing your face. You hummed gently, kissing him deeper. Ever so often, you had to break your hungry kisses to take a few gasping breaths before delving right back into his sweet lips. You had to admit your favorite part of any day was always when you had your movie makeout sessions, with his hands running along your body and tongue exploring your mouth gently.

It was never rough, always sweet and gentle, just like him. He always made sure of your comfort, kissing away any discomfort whenever you had some, which was very rarely.

His hands drifted along your skin, one hand up your shirt and caressing your back, the other gripping your ass gently.

“I love you, Liebling” He whispers against your lips.

“I love you too, König” You whisper breathlessly, returning to your gentle, hungry kissing.

TYTYTY for reading!!! i love you all sm!!! if you have any requests, feel free to send an ask!! if you request smut, it’ll take a little longer because i have no real experience and i don’t want anything to seem overly fake or anything <3

[matchabirb]

Thinking about EPIC the Musical Odysseus... [spoilers to wisdom saga, mentions of ptsd, trauma, etc]

like okay we all know about how Ody had TONS of ptsd throughout the musical (and the Odyssey itself), like how he spiraled in Love in Paradise because Calypso's words reminded him of Eurylochus, Polites, and Anticlea.

Do you think like, about after what happened in Polyphemus, or maybe it was during Ruthlessness, the word "captain" may have become sort of a trigger word too? Like, the sheer amount of times the crewmates have called out that "Captain! Captain! Captain!" right before or while they're dying should definitely be traumatizing in its own right, yeah?

(I rant a bit more abt this utc)

And then ig it sort of all crashed down during The Underworld because the souls of the crewmates were just screaming for him, "Captain! Captain! Captain!" And ever since that song, maybe Ody's fight/flight response gets activated with just that word. Like, maybe before, it simply activated a sense of duty, since it reminds him of his responsibility over so many people. But then all the death and suffering that clung onto that word just associated it with something wrong going on.

And then during Mutiny, when Eurylochus says "Look me in the eyes and tell me, captain," I can't help but imagine Ody flinching and getting a small spiral in that moment. Because it's always captain, captain, captain; he has to be the one they call out to when times are tough, when times are terrible, because he's their captain. And the weight of all those lives lost. Around 564 people calling out to him, crying out to their captain for help, and he couldn't help them. No matter what he tried to do, he couldn't help them. He couldn't help those men who relied on him, who turned to him first.

And then later on, after Eury kills Helios's cattle, the first thing he says when he realizes just what he did was call, "Captain?" Because he needs their captain, he needs Odysseus. Like, there's no blame to any of the other crew members for calling Ody 'captain' cuz that's natural for them; it's a sign that they still trust him despite everything that's happened previously. But does Odysseus still even trust himself to lead them?

heh i might write a oneshot or drabble about this the thought is rotting in my brain too much