#just pure snot and insanity

[otaku-tactician]

Legs Entwined with Desire 

Albeit being known as the ‘Most Dreaded Devil King’, Asmodeus embraces you in your entirety; devouring every part of you in earnest. 

WHB Asmodeus x Gender Neutral character smut ficlet, 18+ (slight mention of kinks like breeding kink, briefly explores kinks, penetration, bodily fluids, second person POV, but mainly kept vague.) 

Ao3 version link here!

It’s as if the world has reduced to a haze, body trembling with need and wanton desire, brimming fluids leaking from your hungering body.

With just a touch, your mind goes insane; filled with enough orgasmic pleasure to truly tip you over the edge- soul buzzing with every desire, every lust to ever exist.

And Asmodeus’ passion, his burning red eyes that seem to peer right through you; and those fearsome pheromones- laced with a stench that made your mind pulsate with endless sensations of him pummeling you within a thousand ways at once, every nerve set alight with every single form of pleasure to ever exist- 

It is as if you are going to die, body aflame within an endless symphony of overpowering desire.  

And as he sweeps you within those speedy arms, that seem to transcend the concept of space and time altogether- you relinquish yet another white-hot splash of pure pleasure, world fraying apart at the seams; yet he doesn’t mind.

Lapping up your tears, the snot, tongue winding amorously with all the sweat and fluids accumulating within your body, Asmodeus sincerely embraces it all.  

Enjoys it all. 

Indulges in it all. 

Adores it all, even. 

You wonder where he is, what position he’s in- and then you cry out with sheer pleasure at the talented cock that pumps deliciously within your deepest ravines, every brush sending countless jolts of powerful electricity up and down your spine; left with no choice but to arch against his flaming hot chest, body tickled by his expanses of sleek dark hair- that softly tickle your bare skin. 

What is it that you truly desire? What passions set you alight, fill your world with light?

No matter how wild or deviant they may be, Asmodeus greedily consumes all you can possibly give, eager to repay it in earnest; pushing you to the utmost brink of pleasure. Rocking deeply enough inside to crumble you to pieces, every thrust of his evokes a little death within your body, orgasms endlessly building a fever pitch within you, senses so muddled by desire that thought can barely even register within your bliss-induced mind. 

How does every part of you taste? How deep can he go, how much can he fill you up with his essence, drenching you within his hues?

Gears whirring within Asmodeus’ mind, he delights in uncovering all that there is of you, face splitting  in adulation at the way in which you coil and writhe against him; mind filled with nothing else but the desire to breed you- or so it seems, your entwining bodies toying with the idea of something more; the dawn of companionship settling amongst your interwoven forms.  

And yet, with all those touches that sear your skin, those lips that rip you apart- his dedicated tongue peeling apart all layers of protection; hoisting you into a level of pleasure that splits your world into endless fragments, drifting within an endless sea of moans and feet-curling, body shuddering, soul destroying need-the night never ends- the both of you indulging heartily within an endless festival of never-ending kink; lust’s aching power detonating endlessly within your convulsing body- the endless waves of delectation all too much to handle. 

And thus, your mind figuratively explodes, so overwhelmed by it all that you blossom with endless feelings; unfurling all hidden urges, throwing all caution to the wind- there's no judgement here. 

Legs entwined with desire, only truth remains. 

[resident-gay-bitch]

“james, love…” lily puts her hand soothingly on james’ thigh. it’s soft, and small, and smooth, and almost delicate in her touch. everything about lily is so right to james, in every sense.

but gosh, sometimes he wishes that hand were bigger, rougher, scarred and pale with long bony fingers and black chipped nail polish.

james doesn’t even know why he feels that way sometimes. he loves lily. he really fucking loves lily. she’s everything to him, and five times out of ten he’ll yearn for her hand and her touch and her love.

but those five other times…

fuck, it hurts. and it’s so goddamned confusing. james drives himself crazy thinking about it.

actually, he drives himself crazy trying not to think about it. he doesn’t want to think about it. he can’t hurt lily. she’s the love of his life. so wonderful, she is, the brightest witch of her age, and she’s sassy and challenges james and doesn’t put up with his arrogance but also loves when he gets a little snobby. she’s so wonderful, and his parents adore her, and they’re engaged. to be married!

james doesn’t think life could get much more perfect than her.

oh, but his heart, it’s a terrible fucking thing. it’s the worst thing in the world, he’s beginning to think.

everyone’s always told him he has the most pure heart they’ve ever seen, that he has so much love and wears it on his sleeve. james potter has a wonderful heart, so good and lovely.

but james potter thinks his heart is so horrible, the betrayer. why? why would it do this to him?

it loves lily so dearly, and he’s certain of that. so why does his heart race so fucking fast when those long bony fingers reach out and tickle his skin. why does it ache and yearn for james to look into ice grey eyes and embrace another? if his heart so full of good and love, why must it hate james so much?

his body quakes when her delicate touch gluides over the meat of his thigh, the covers kicked down to his shins. her nails are painted a pretty pale green colour, and they look lovely, sitting in the place where his boxers end. he usually loves the sight of her hand there, so perfectly placed, her freckled skin contrasting against the tan of his own.

but not tonight. not right now. right now it’s his hand that james wants to see there. it’s his bony pale fingers that james wants to see spread out over the thick muscle. it’s his touch james yearns for.

he convulses, caving in on himself more. he’s distraught, arms wrapped tight around his almost bare body, snot in his nose, hot cheeks covered in tear tracks, his glasses all foggy.

“love…” she whispers again, her perfect, sweet voice. james loves the way she chants his name, weather it be soft, or tender, or loud, or excited, or desperate, or angered. he loves it all. he loves how perfect the melody of everything she says sounds to him. but he wishes for the deeper baritone of someone else to call his name in all the same ways. someone who’s not supposed to call his name in all the same ways.

james can’t even look at her. cant bring himself to look at her. he can’t hurt her the way hes hurting himself. cant believe he’s feeling this way. it’s horrible, guilt sinking it’s claws into his chest and tugging everything out until there’s nothing left but empty pain.

he can’t tell her, or she’ll leave him.

he can’t tell him, or everything will be wrong.

he can’t lie, or he’ll feel even more guilty.

he can’t be honest, or things will get messy.

he can’t rot like this forever, or hill drive himself to insanity.

they’re getting married next week, for fucks sake. and james loves her so much, and he’s so happy, and so excited. they’ve been taking about kids, about life. james got so excited about the thought, he impulsively bought a tiny pair of baby sneakers he saw in the store one afternoon.

so why is it, on his bucks night, of all nights, that he’s getting cold feet? why is it now just hitting him harder than it ever had before, these horribly betraying feelings?

had it been because those ice grey eyes looked at james with such pure affection and softness it made his heart want to explode? had it been because calloused hands felt good wrapped around james’ biceps as he had to be hauled back up to bed? had it been then kiss left on james’ forehead from pretty pink lips that didn’t belong to his fiancé? had it been the quiet words muttered into the night, when james was presumedly asleep, that had been playing on an insistent loop since they’d been whispered?

she can give you everything i can’t, amour. be happy, please.

or did it only really hit him, how horrible this all is, when he heard lily get home right as he was leaving. when he heard them talking downstairs, unable to decipher what they were saying, but sobered enough in the head to know they were talking for a while, taking about good things and bad.

or is it worse, because james feels the way he does, and he knows it’s bad and that he shouldn’t think on it, but sometimes he notices those ice grey eyes drift over to look at the soft curves of lilys figure? is it anger, he feels, for his friend to look at his fiancé like that? is it jealousy that he feels, when he notices her looking back? or is he jealous that those ice grey eyes aren’t always set on james?

“james.” lily whispers once more, moving herself closer to him on the bed, her hand shifting from his thigh to his cheek where she wiped his tears and held him. her makeups smudged, her hairs all messy, and he has a gaudy feather boa on. she wanted an all muggle henz night, and it looks like she had a wonderful one. and now james was here, ruining it because his heart yearns for a second.

why isn’t she enough for him? why can’t she be enough?

“i’m sorry, love.” james splutters out, surprised he can actually string his words together.

“oh, jamie.” she whispered, the soft pad of her thumb swipes over his wet cheek, flicking away more tears as they spilled. she leant in close to kiss his forehead, so delicate and warm, her kisses. so perfect. not enough. she smells like champagne, and sweat, and her floral perfume. it’s nice, comforting, it’s her and assurance she had a good night.

james sobbs more, they rip through him like waves; a never ending stream washing him away, and he aches.

“i love you so much, darling.” she whispers again, “and you love me?”

oh, more than anything he’s ever loved, almost. besides that one other incessant, irritable, beautiful, perfect disaster. he loves the both of them equally, he thinks, which is wrong. it’s so wrong. pick one, he tells himself. you can only love one person at a time.

“of course.” he nods, bottom lip wobbling as he speaks. “oh, i love you so much, lily, you have no idea-“

“i know, my love.” she smiles, so pretty, so perfect. “but your heart… it’s not only mine, is it?”

james stills, his said heart stops still in his chest. he isn’t entirely sure he’s actually breathing for a very long while. how would she know such a thing? how can she know? how- how… oh how?

“oh, my love.” she giggles, so softly. it sounds so familiar, like a warm summer breeze, and it settles something deep in james’ chest. it provides him comfort, as she always does, and he breathes again. “don’t panic. i’ve known for a while- for years, james. before we started going out, you know?”

“i’m so sorry.” he breaks, slumping into her arms and almost wailing against her chest. she holds him tight, soothing her hand over his back and petting him there, another hand sifting through his hair as she kisses his crown. she’d make a wonderful mother some day, james knows it. but now he’s gone and fucked it up, hasn’t he? “i don’t want to hurt you, i love you, lily, so much-“

“i know, james.” she sighed, kissing his crown once more, “you don’t have to be scared. not with me. you know you can tell me these things? i’ve been waiting for you to tell me years, thought maybe once we tied the knot you would.”

“you’re not… mad at me?” james peaks up at her, his eyes stinging from crying so much, his glasses askew. “why are you not mad at me?”

he’s terribly lost right now, his heart practically on another planet already with how fast it’s moving.

“you can love more than one person, james, and still have your love be pure.” she smiled, so sweetly, so pretty. he wants to kiss her, but thinks this is hardly the time for that. “you can love anyone you desire, as much as you desire. i know your heart is mine, i just share it with sirius, is all.”

hearing her speak his name like that, it’s unsettling at first. it makes james jolt back in shock, looking at her through eyes blown wide. she was never meant to know, no one was ever supposed to know. it’s weird, now she knows- she’s always known, apparently. but since he’s been made aware. why isn’t she angry? why isn’t she saying his name with such distain?

why does she speak his name like it’s something tender, like he’s precious? why does she sound out each letter the same way james would?

“you’re not a terrible person, james. please know that. i only waited so long to bring it up because i wanted you to feel good about it. but i can see it getting to you…” she sighed, smoothing her soft hands over his shoulders, “i love you so very much, no matter how many other people i share your heart with. i think it’s wonderful, how you can love me so strongly and still have more to give. don’t you think it’s wonderful? you do really have the biggest heart.”

james doesn’t know how to feel right now. he doesn’t know what this means. she loves him, still. is glad, perhaps? he’s baffled, actually. and he must show it, because she laughs so brightly at him and wipes the last of his sticky tears away before kissing him kindly.

james sinks into her wonderful, wonderful kiss. oh, she really is brilliant, his lily.

the brightest witch for certain.

“you relax, my love. lay down.” she mutters, pushing james back to lie under the covers again, folding his glasses for him and setting them on his bedside, “i’m going to put on a spot of tea, and then we’ll lay together for a while, and we’ll talk more in the morning about what it all will mean, okay?”

“okay.” james muttered, closing his heavy eyes.

oh he really loves his lily.

he must have fallen asleep, because one minuet she’s laying him into bed and the next she’s making him sip a hot cup of tea. his glasses stay off, too tired to worry much about seeing, too drunk to process much else anyway. he sips his tea, and she sips hers, and smiles at him softly.

“i love you so much, james.” she whispers to him, taking his teacup and setting it on his bedside table. “let’s sleep?”

she doesn’t give him time to argue, shoving him over into the centre of the bed. rather than climbing into her own side, she crawls under the covers on james’ and curls in at his side.

but james can’t focus much on the soft curve of lily, or her pretty smile, or the inviting smell of her; there’s another body climbing into bed behind him.

“shhh…” lily whispers, taking james chin and turning him to face her, as he startled. she kisses his lips again and wipes away the confused furrow of his brow. “not now, love. just relax, okay. let us hold you, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

james nods and turns to look at the other body, and finds pale skin and ice grey eyes looking down on him softly.

“would you like me to hold you, jamie?” he whispers, and james’ heart burns with how fast it’s beating.

james nods, too delirious to question it, if he’s honest. it’s not as if they don’t cuddle, regularly. it’s just… this is a little different, he suspects. lily has this look on her face, like she’s meddling, like she’s happy to be meddling.

james usually loves when she meddles, so he can only assume this is something good. he doesn’t have to worry now, they’ll talk about it in the morning.

for now, he lays his head on his pillow and wraps his arms tight around lily, their legs slotting together with ease, a position they have mastered. she’s curled into his chest, her forehead pressed against the flesh of his, and her hair tucked under his chin.

but tonight another set of arms wrap around them. strong biceps and ink blead into pale skin lay over james’ own. those long bony fingers skate over the back of james’ palm, the one that rests on the meaty flesh of lilys lower back, and they slot between his own. a strong jaw tucks itself over james’ shoulder and nuzzles there, warm breath fanning over his neck.

it’s sirius, pressed up against his back, spooning james whilst he holds his fiancé. it’s so oddly comforting to be sandwiched between the pair, his heart never had felt quite so full.

lily shoots her hand up and shoves sirius’ face away, and she tiredly groans. “your breath smells like cigarettes, dog-boy. don’t breathe on me, or i will kick you out.”

sirius snickers, and james utterly loves the sound. it contrasts the melody of lilys laugh quite strongly, and perhaps lily is right; maybe it is kind of beautiful how his heart can love two entirely different things, so intently, and so equally.

“please don’t kick me out.” sirius grumbles, tucking his face behind james’ shoulder and kissing him there. james’ heart positively somersaults. “i’ll probably have a bigger meltdown than james,” james kicks his foot back against sirius’ ankle, and he laughs before continuing, “i love you both terribly.”

this time lily is the one to kick sirius, right between james’ legs, “shh! don’t ruin it!”

sirius kicked her back, “he’s so drunk, he won’t even remember, mrs. potter.”

“he’s significantly more sober now, dipshit.” she muttered, “sorry, jamie, go to sleep.”

“oh…” sirius muttered, pressing his face into the back of james’ neck, “sorry, prongsie boy. we’ll, ah… we’ll talk more tomorrow. but you can understand, right? waiting so long and all-“

“shut up, pads.” james groaned, hoping neither of them could notice the red smatter of blush on his face or the lovestruck grin he had plastered to his lips, “i’m trying to sleep.”

“right.” sirius muttered, and shut his trap.

silence lulled over the room again, and james mind was so heavy, so desperate to sleep. however, his heart was hyperactive.

this was something.

oh, this had to be something entirely wonderful.

he wasn’t sure he could wait till morning to talk about it further. he just had to get one last word in before he let himself sleep.

“i love you both terribly too, i suppose.”

james fell asleep feeling much better than he had before, lily and sirius sandwiching him in; the shared warmth of their body’s settling comfortably over james. they were here, now, all of them, together. james and lily love eachother, and by the looks of things james and sirius love eachother too; and perhaps even lily and sirius might. but either way, james’ heart is too fucking full of love and he never intends on ridding himself of that.

they both pressed pretty little kisses to james skin in sync, and james certainly dreamed much more wonderful things than he had in a while.

[edsbacktattoo]

hi lets show some love for our mutuals. tag your favorite mutuals and tell them why you love them

oooh bet u thought i forgot about u anon. i didn’t. i’ve been here. scheming and plotting. and i am soooo full of love to give. hold onto your hats

i’m putting the gushing under a cut because this post is getting too long haha whoopsie

@tisziny my darling beloved and dearly cherished friend. one of the first people to reach out to me and i am eternally grateful for their wonderful heart and friendship. my sweetest cheese! 🧀 an incredibly skilled writer and artist who i sincerely admire <3 not enough words to describe my love for them tbh

@skysofrey kaitlin my beautiful and cherished friend and wife. we were cut of the same cloth and then separated at birth but we defied to odds and joined forces anyway! so insightful and kind and sweet and hilarious and overall wonderful (and also sooooo pretty have u guys seen my wife she’s sooooo pretty wtf) 🖤💜❤️

@blackbeardskneebrace miles blackbeardskneebrace the absolute marvel that you are <3 so incredibly nice and extraordinarily talented! every time they post art it adds 100000 years to my lifespan and puts tears in my eyes. genuinely astounding

@blakbonnet despite the angst and antagonising me for Ed’s beard, i will always love Meow with my whole chest. and she can do it all!!! she writes, makes art, makes gifs! she’s even funny and smart and hot and NICE! save some for the rest of us babe come on <3

@gentlebeard ohhhh my sweet wonderful Ella (now with a new and improved url!) so incredibly kind and friendly! always willing for a hot makeout session in the bathroom and will gladly kill someone to defend your honour (i’ve seen her do it). makes edits that make you laugh and then WHABAM!! another that makes you feel like your lungs are being pulled out. love you ella <3

@snake-snack-stede we all know that olivia is the funniest mfer on this whole idiot website. it’s literally not even a contest. but did you guys know she’s also extraordinarily talented? she makes art and animates and makes edits that are gorgeous to look at. also i’m in love with her. she’s the sweetest candy apple at the fair and i’m a snot-nosed kid with an appetite.

@flightoftheconnie sex on legs. i become hot and flustered and feint when i think of her. makes me blush and giggle and kick my feet and she’s funny and smart and hot enough to be in a gallery but she’s here with us instead. give her kisses or die by my sword

@bizarrelittlemew we may not talk often but goodness gracious do i adore you 🥹 my god you’re hilarious and you make some of the most gorgeous gifs ive ever put my gay little eyes on. and yet another blessing to the world of ofmd fanfic <3

@saltpepperbeard JODI!!!!!! if jodi has a billion fans i’m one of them. if she has 100 fans i’m one of them. if Jodi has 0 fans then i’m dead. literally so sweet and kind and enthusiastic and an absolute treasure. and my GOODNESS can she write!! her work feels like a warm hug (just like her!)

@sherlockig literally too hot to be on the hellsite with us but we are so blessed to have her. an absolute TREASURE to this fandom and to anyone who knows her. the amount of lockscreens i’ve got that are just alexz screengrabs is absolutely insane. thank you for all your work i love you forever

@dickfuckk josh — a living breathing legend. any time you need a file? a link? an image? josh has got your back. one of the funniest people i’ve ever interacted with. also makes edits devastating enough to kill a man <3

@xoxoemynn Em my wonderful Cherub From Heaven!!! pure charm and grace, and one of the most enthusiastic and delightful people i’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. such an accomplished and skilled writer as well!

@vampirebutterflies my #1 date to the observatory and my partner in crime <33 so effortlessly funny and kind and has the best taste in music ever. every single song they’ve sent me has been an absolute banger and has been put in the frequent rotation (huge shoutout to Vacations)

@bunnyandthejets my dear and darling friend Bunny who is so incredibly kind and sweet. has been so vocally supportive and enthusiastic since we met and i’m so grateful to have her friendship and support. she’s also made me cackle like an insane person on enough occasions to be criminal.

@wearfinethingsalltoowell don’t let the angst fool you, Joy is actually wonderful and a ray of sunshine <3 i’m convinced she just enjoys causing us pain for fun. she’s creative and wonderful and the World’s Number One Olu Enjoyer (and therefore objectively correct)

@sassygwaine is one of those unabashedly kind souls who simply oozes love into everything they do and create. so genuine and resilient and smart!!! writes like an absolute dream too

@chocolatepot a complete sweetheart who was one of my first friends in this fandom, and who has been consistently friendly and supportive ever since. unwaveringly kind and nice. also her writing. oh my god. 😭 a huge inspiration to silly little me

@jellybeanium124 nina is so effortlessly hilarious. she’s had me giggling and twirling my hair on numerous occasions. she’s also full to the brim with good and correct takes. (also a Button’s truther and the world needs more of those.)

@awkward-fallen-angel heather is just soooo lovely!! another one of the people that’s been here since the very early days and i’m always so grateful for her insight and enthusiasm and the sheer joy she puts into everything.

@stedebonnets i mean this so sincerely and with my whole heart: Ara is one of the nicest and most loving people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. an absolute angel who drops in to consistently check on her friends and spread love and joy. we need more Ara’s in the world. also has one of the most beautiful ofmd tattoos i’ve ever seen <3

if you haven’t been included in this list, please know that i love you so so so dearly and that i genuinely am just a little bit stupid (on account of the short term memory issues lol). if you’re feeling left out, send me a message and i’ll say something sooo niceys about you 🥹 i love you all. thank you for being here. <3

[hyunrun]

my thoughts on asy ep 04 😋 live react !! (warning: I can never remember anyone's names bear with me + lots and lots of spoilers ahead)

Where is zhengting I'm partially here for his face card 🤲🤲

I keep forgetting how much I dislike Rain and then I see him and I am reminded but Rainism is rlly too good of a song 😭

1. PHANTOM

Okay first team up 😎 Phantom Galaxy I'm loving their concept

Albert is looking gorgeous as always HIS EYE MAKEUP?

All their voices slayed omg WHOEVER HAS THAT DEEP ASS VOICE IN THE CHORUS AYOOO

Blond's high notes... I see u

My vote would go to Albert (with ponytail) or blond dude or black hair dude with the silver makeup (Axinran?)

OKAYY team two flying to the dining hall (WHAT IS THIS NAME LMAO)

This group is somehow just better...

But blond here is a bit soulless idk I'm not liking him 😨

My vote would 100% go to Skye idk if he's one of the already debuted ones but he was INSANE I loved his stage presence rn he's stolen me, he's my fave in the whole show

But I also really liked the pink hair guy 😭 (is his name really John... I need to learn their Chinese names I cannot be calling this gorgeous man John 😭)

KENNY NOOOOOOOOOOO his hands shaking stop 😭 I hate this pls no

Not surprised Team 2 won, it was expected.

2. ONE AND ONLY (I'm so excited)

Pure Love Warrior is such a queer team name HAHA One is looking so fine today tho

They're STRUTTING onto the stage I love the energy

Not them recreating the iconic finger touch painting 😭 rlly about that pure love

Maybe I'm feeling disappointed because this is one of my favourite songs but they didn't do it justice at all 😭 the only one who caught my eyes was One. However I appreciate that they tried to bring out the silly goofy concepts while keeping it kinda mature to fit themselves.

ORENDA CALLING THEIR COSTUME UGLY 💀💀 real

My vote would go for One 🤞

Idk anyone from this Magic Cube group but I have hopes (OH WAIT IK WALKER I LIKE HIM his pink eye shadow makes me RAA I LOVE)

Every opinion Orenda has matches mine and that means we're soulmates basically 🤞

I'm liking this

PINK GUY IS SO CUTE

Whoever did the high note failed but it's ok 😭😭

YELLOW JACKET DUDE IS GOOD TOO HOLD UPPP

Red dude is making me kick my feet why is he giving like cool football player (?? Idk I'm tryna think of the American cliche) at school YK 😭😭 hes so masculine in a yum way

Okay I love everyone in this group except black and white jacket

WALKER BEING CALLED PAPA STOP NAWWW

Oh pink dude is Wang Muqing? My vote goes to him !!!!

SERVICE WHAT ARE YOU SAYING HE ATE SNOT ??? 😭😭 taking back his cool footballer status but tbh I didn't even know he missed the lyrics

okay I'm sorry how did One's group win 😭😭 I'm glad for them but the other boys were way better imo

3. LYDIA

First group is Deep Hidden yum

I'm looking forward to Archie

Vocals slayed as expected and they did better than I thought they would tbh

Hoodie guy was by far my favourite tho but Kingsley was rlly good too

Group 2 Daily Quest ee

Thier concept was really nice

The guy who opened the song had such a soulful voice I liked that

I liked everyone tbh not much to say

Sky's eye makeup is very pretty

Group 2 won as expected !!!! Gemini is so cute

Icb they're making me wait till next week for Ely and Ollie but alr 😭😭

[infernaleikon]

I love how half of my ask was missing and yet! Your answer was still so chefs kiss!what I said in part one was basically that I know it’s a universal love of everyone’s to headcanon anakin as being obsessed with Obi-wan’s hands but I need Obi-wan obsessed with some part of anakin whether it be his hands, smile, curls, the breadth of his shoulders, his teeny waist or his THIGHS!!!! Can you also imagine all the guilt that would go along the salacious thoughts he has about anakin 😏😏😏😏

Omg follow up. Imagine if at first Obi-wan thinks he’s just attracted to anakin on a physical level and then!! When he realizes oh shit! I’m in LOVE with him! Sorry, I like to see Obi-wan suffer. Pining Obikin, my beloved

sksksksk hahahaha you are so right though, and i think obi-wan would be into everything about anakin, like he's just balls to wall insane about that twunk and he's long given up trying to say (to himself) otherwise. and Anakin's hair is v grabbable, his shoulders are nice and broad and if he wanted he could fold obi-wan in half, and his teeny waist is perfect for obi-wan to place his hands on and tell anakin to center himself; his mouth is v soft and wet and it would look so good wrapped around obi-wans cock, and of course his smile could power all of coruscant alone, and his thighs. well. his thighs deserve a sonnet of their own and obi-wan probably has often enough found himself between often enough during one mission mishap or another and it's never been a problem until anakin went from padawan/that insufferable bratty teen he's responsible for whos given him early grey hairs to competent, confident twunk man who somehow ticks all of obi-wans boxes (one of which turns out to be "has the ability to give me grey hairs prematurely") and obi-wan is somehow completely blindsided and not at all surprised at the same time. anakins always been pretty, beautiful even, though before obi-wan has always only considered it in an aesthetic sort of way and never with anything more, but with maturity, the purely physical somehow became even more appealing because then all the other things obi-wan loves about him started factoring in and where anakin was objectively beautiful before, he's now obi-wans walking wet dream inside and out. Obi-Wan has a hard time dealing ajsjsjsj

and of course he would carry massive guilt around with him over Thinking Thoughts about his former padawan who may now be his equal but is also 16 years younger than him and who used to wipe his snot on obi-wans robes. and ofc they're not the same people anymore now that they were then, it's not even about that. they're also jedi and not supposed to form attachments. and obi-wan pines quietly but furiously whenever someone diverts Anakin's attention away from him. it's why he flirts with everyone else. he has to direct it somewhere. and anakin couldn't tell someone is flirting with him to save his life. and also because whenever obi-wan banters flirtily with him, anakin banters right back, and obi-wan has to remind himself that he can't actually just rip their clothes off and devour anakin on the spot.

long story short, i am 100% with you there, anon, because pining obi-wan is the best thing ever and i could read about it until my eyes dry out and think about it 24/7. it's the only thing keeping me alive rn sksjsjsnsn

[monty-glasses-roxy]

💙

Roxy and Monty

💙 (Blue heart) for a friend ship!

Oh hell yeah the dynamic duo!!

These are ride or die for each other. Besties through and through. They have weekly fight nights where they beat the snot out of each other for fun while Chica commentates over the Plex speakers. They drive Freddy and Sunny insane with their swearing and like to poke fun at them for being so against it all the time. They could argue and come to real blows one night and be trying to dunk a basketball blindfolded through a toilet seat they glued to the wall the next. They absolutely share a braincell, often with Chica as well and they're damn proud of it.

They don't exactly go to each other for advice or anything. They go to each other when they want to switch their brains off for a while. They could go to each other for advice and support of that kind, sure, but somehow the conversation always ends up with the stupidest idea ever and the need for cuddles and comfort is put aside in favour of giving Mapbot a make over and sending this new minion off to jumpscare everyone. They have a blast, and when one of them is angry or frustrated, they know they can go to the other to vent and channel that energy into whatever destruction they come up with this time. Many a staffbot has been harmed in the goal of stress relief.

They're both very competitive with each other, and will talk shit constantly to rile themselves up for a game. The difference between them is that Monty likes to cheat sometimes for jokes and Roxy cannot stand cheating of any kind so they've fought a lot over that. He does convince her to let it slide a few times purely because they both know it would end with really funny results. Like, Freddy and Moon are the masters of poker and Monty is saying he's never played it before despite having learned how to play (and thus, how to cheat) with Roxy ages ago? He convinces Roxy not to say anything before he does it and while it bugs her to no end the entire time, he was right. It was absolutely hilarious to watch both Freddy and Moon slowly descend into madness over Monty consistently beating them. He's yet to convince her to cheat at anything though. He keeps saying she could get away with it so easily because no one would ever suspect her but she can't. She physically can't bring herself to do it. She tried once in a game with him where they both planned for her to cheat and she still couldn't fuckin' do it. She loves an honest game too much to do it

These two have so many fucking in-jokes too. They drop them every so often around the others and suddenly the conversation is just pure giggles while everyone asks what the joke is this time. No one particularly minds and it's one of their methods of easing the tension in serious conversations, though that's not always appreciated.

Monty shows up at Roxy's door missing random chunks of his casing so often. He and Chica get up to all sorts but he's also a menace on his own and Roxy is his go to for that kind of help since she knows what she's doing in terms of mechanical and casing repairs. She just opens the door for him, sees him grinning oh so innocently, and holding up his severed arm up to wave at her with it and just "What did you do this time?" Like, she's not even surprised. Just so chill about it. That's why he goes to her every time anything is physically wrong with him. She doesn't judge him for the damages and she is very thorough with her check-ups and what not. Like, he can sit there and talk about the problem he's been having and she'll go through all the possible causes with a fine tooth comb. It's hard not to appreciate that level of care, especially when he gets in trouble every time he goes to see maintenance for this sort of stuff.

Roxy goes to him when she needs help with stuff too. Like, if there's a two animatronic job that needs doing or she's feeling particularly like she wants a floor moment with a giant animatronic alligator that likes laying on top of everyone. He's also super supportive of her dogisms because he can kinda relate to some of the problems she gets from them. A common question when she shows up at his door not looking great is "dog brain day?" and it basically tells him all he needs to know about how she's feeling so he can adjust the hang out accordingly. You know, she doesn't very much appreciate being called dog for brains but she does appreciate the support and being able to chew on his arm while he watches her play a DS game or something. Especially when the staff normally get really pissy with her for anything dog based that she does.

They turn everything into a game too. Roxy wants to hang out with Monty while he's collecting all the stray golf balls in Gator Golf? Give them three minutes and they're already competing to see who can find the most. Monty wants to hang out while Roxy's in the middle of a management induced timeout where she's locked in her room? They're now playing charades through the glass window that quickly devolves into trying to tell each other stories through nothing but mimes.

They have fun. And if they can't, they find a way to have fun. Sure, they fight a lot but they're also really supportive of each other. Monty when he's hurt and Roxy when she needs cheering up and distracting. They're great friends! Besties and sometimes worsties! Don't try and get between them because they will fuck you up!

Love them. They're a great duo. One of my favourite friendships.

[stormy-caffeine]

Needed more space for my thoughts than replies allow and didn't wanna bog down the thread, this is related to my last reblog (about South Park being terrible and people shitting on its fans).

___________

I genuinely love watching South Park.

If I need something on in the background or just something to watch and turn my brain off to, I will always choose it.

Does that mean its any good? No.

Does it have good rep for minorities? No.

Does it have any good messages directly stated literally ever? No!

Some episodes are pure satire on modern society while others are just intentionally mean, either to a group or only one person, and I feel like both routes are pretty clearly done in each episode. It's fairly rare (though not impossible, obviously) to find an episode of SP in the recent seasons that isn't an identifiable satire on a situation or political climate or pop cultural /thing/ going on. Also rare to watch an episode and not understand exactly what they're making fun of: racists, homophobia, religion, politics, health fads, rich people, bad parenting, poor government oversight, failing education systems, the list goes on.

Keep in mind, even when they're making fun of something objectively bad, like racists and homophobes, they usually only have one (1) voice of reason MAXIMUM in the episode. If any, at all. The rest of the town, or some one-off characters, are usually going to perpetuate some terrible thing related to the plot that day. They may even make it look like the town agrees with the bad take, potentially even making it true for the rest of the series. Canonically, the entire town is extremely judgemental and xenophobic, there is literally no argument for them not being that way. It's shown multiple times.

The reason I don't mind any of this is because zero characters in South Park are inherently good, non-flawed people. Even the "good guys" in the show are very openly displayed as pieces of shit multiple times throughout the series.

Whether it's from the earlier seasons and all the kids are just snot-nosed kids who don't know any better or in the later seasons where the adults, who are supposed to be the good examples for them, make horrific and baffling decisions on how to handle even minor inconveniences in the town.

EVERY person in South Park is a flawed, usually downright terrible, human being. And. That. Is. The. Point.

If South Park wanted to be Family Guy and have "good" protagonists, they would keep all of the flaws in their main cast but back-fill each one of them with relatable and well-meaning traits also. They would be normal, classic, non-malicious but still very flawed and destructive people, just like in Family Guy and American Dad and every rip-off of them ever made. Some characters have that, sure, but sparingly. Most don't even get a single good quality about them, or if they do they somehow take it to such an extreme that it's almost worse than the bad qualities entirely.

They don't want to make a show with a great message every episode (despite also parodying that in some earlier seasons, when the kids acted more like kids), they wanted to make a comedy show that depicts the absolute worst, hell-spawned, unjustifiable, batshit insane town of people that still clearly represent everything wrong in our modern society.

Yes, they have racism directly in the show. They WANT you to see that it's racist and bad.

Yes, they have ableism directly in the show. They WANT you to see that it's ableist and bad.

Yes, they have "insert-literally-any-ism-you-can-think-of" in the show and very proudly display it for all to see and critique and shit on. Because they want you to see it and shit on it and know it's bad.

That is the intention of each and every minute of every episode.

Even in the episodes where it ends with a message that should be encouraging, "just be yourself" "treat others how you want to be treated" "despite our differences we're all the same inside" etc, it's usually undermined by the context being so warped and otherwordly that it basically can't be applied to a normal scenario anymore. The characters learned something but they and the town didn't improve as people or a collective. They are too flawed to ever be redeemed, because they are only ever going to be our worst aspects.

Again, does that make the show inherently good? Absolutely not! You can hate the show, you can get sick of its bad jokes and bad representation, you can wish it stopped airing by now and you can wish that it was never made in the first place.

But shitting on people who even passively enjoy the show is just not a good take. People like things for different reasons.

If someone loves South Park because they feel joy from seeing someone be a racist bigot, yes absolutely call out that person. But liking South Park at all is not a sign of this.

If someone loves South Park because even the worst jokes still point out how insane it is to think that day's -isms are justified somehow, in a lighter tone than we currently get while doom-scrolling, I see nothing wrong with that.

Every day for at least the last decade has seemed like a parade of terrible news and horrific people rising to power or enacting some terrible law/getting out of justice for violating the law. It's mind-numbing and terrifying to think about for extended periods. And sure, we can't avoid the bad shit going on, but at least digesting it in a lighter tone for a short time makes it more bearable while you're still thinking about it.

Aside from literally all of that... It's just a show. It's not trying to be something great and important, it's there to entertain people. LET people be entertained by it and give the people having to sit down and animate it a paycheck.

If you don't like it, just ignore it. Don't watch it. Don't follow people who watch it/post about it. Don't seek it out just to shit on it more. Just. Ignore it.

Even me, someone who likes the show, knows that inevitably it will have to stop being made at one point. There will be a last episode and no more channels/streaming services running it one day. Just wait it out and you'll have one less thing to be mad about.

In the meantime, let people who can find a spark of joy in the bleak void just... have it for a moment. It's not a big deal.

[doctapuella]

Ok now you have to (if you feel like it ❤) do top 5 or 10 SEXIEST boys.

im HYPERVENTILATING this is the most magical prompt. i'm just some dumbass online but somewhere within me is the soul of an academic, one who spent yesterday binging brian david gilbert videos, so obviously i have overthought every detail and must first define the terms and parameters of this project and its scope:

i don't want to make this just a list of "who are my fave music boy crushes" because then i'm gonna talk about emotions and emotions are disgusting (citation: i'm a capricorn). i also just don't want to end up with a list of the physical features that i'm most into (soft tummies, chest hair, smol fluffy boys in general) because then it's gonna get really repetitive. but there will still be overlap between this and the previous list. my personal (very biased and subjective) academic definition of "sexy", therefore, will be predominantly physical and based on the following three variables:

eyes & expressions made with said eyes (also contributes to point 3 on this list, but is important enough to consider as a variable on its own)

frontal impact, defined here as "nice chest and tummy area" because i refuse to ignore it completely

vibes, defined here as "the ability to make me, famously a person who cannot shut up, speechless"

and so, with that, onward:

1. bruno ravel: okay so maybe i made my list of parameters with this specific boy in mind, and i refuse to apologize for it. he's my all-time favorite boy for a reason. (for many reasons, but lots of them are emotional so we won't go there.) he's just??? my boy????? best smile, best vibes, best frontal impact, and wooooo boy his eyes i had a breakdown over his eyes once!!!!! at least once. can't be sure. my brain kinda blacks out a little. i almost didnt even include him bc i didn't think i'd be able to string together any words with actual content. i got plenty of words though!!!!!

2. brad gillis: fucking breaks my mind??? normally i will rant and ramble about every detail about a boy but. brad. [also the rest of these boys have the blandest names im so sorry its so unfortunate.] i have such intense brad thoughts and i can put almost none of them into words. he's goofy as fuck, but then he can shift right to the intense eyes that stare into my soul and make me want to do literally anything he says. also like, physically? he's so ideal. somewhere on my phone is a screenshot from @shelickedthebeater sending me a pic of brad and said "hes very shape, i must say. rachels-perfect-boyfriend-shape" and she was so right to do so. AND this is prob true for most of them but it's so extra true for brad, that in 2022 he can absolutely still fucking get it.

3. dave meniketti: this man's singing voice in the 70s hit me like a shot to the fucking brain and i've never been the same. he's so fascinating to me because sometimes i'll see a pic and be like "hmm yeah i guess i like him fine" but? pictures cannot do him justice, i tell you. when he is performing, ohhhhhhh my god i just wanna be on my knees in front of him. just trust me when i tell you he has the sluttiest vibes in the best possible way.

4. eric carr: how can i even begin okay so, obviously, number one fluffy boy. he's not number one overall boy but he shot to the tops of my faves list real fucking fast. i'll admit i had a serious anti-kiss bias for absolutely no good reason, and i fought being into this boy for so long. i had a whole series of emotional breakdowns over it. and in the end, i like emotionally imprinted on him like i was a little baby duckling. but we aren't here for emotions, we're here for silly boys with intense drumming style and a body that i need to spend all of my free time licking.

5. bruce springsteen: listen. all of the boys on this list are just some guy, and bruce is the most "just some guy" of them all. ok wow jeans and white tshirt, whatever. we've seen it. but oh my god something about his energy fucks me up so bad????? like i've heard his songs my whole life and then one day pinterest was like "can i offer u a bruce in these trying times" and my brain went "oh???? yes u may???" and here we are. he also has some quality to his voice that turns my insides to jello. but there's also a very, idk, normie aspect to him (his just-some-guyness) that makes me write tags like "boyfriend vibes".

6. vivian campbell: i fully want to bang viv at all stages of his adult life but i would like to dedicate this spot on the post to the viv era that stopped me from being a phil girl (wow, that was a whole time in itself, huh). late 90s viv. the beginning of his shirtless era. specifically viv during the '99 concert in tokyo. i went from "idk he's not really on my dl radar" to "okay yeah he's very nearly the tops of my list" just from this one show. it opened my eyes to a whole new world of this boy. he starts off the show in a super tight black long sleeve shirt with mesh panels oh my god and then changes into a red leather shirt??? and by the end he is shirtless and sweaty as FUCK and alskdjfldsjflkjsdfsadf mesh time

7. bobby blotzer: look i said i'm basing this on mostly physicality and i really like his physicality. i like the intense stare and goddddd he's got a great chest/tummy situation. he's like squishy and dumb and fuckkkk i love that. but like really i fuckin love watching him drum?? his drumming energy is so great and i want to harness the energy (just the energy, not the boy) for my own nefarious purposes. (i mean, i will use the boy for said purposes too, just not in a harness. (on his knees.))

8. phil campbell: idk man i think this is another voice-related one for me. i took no notice of him until i heard his welsh accent and then my eyeballs widened and suddenly i was ready to be all over that. and!!! so glad i started looking!!!! this boy has peak soft tummy and i want to die kissing it oh my godddddd!!!!

9. simon le bon: ok so half the time he's the dorkiest fuckin weirdo on the block. but the other half of the time sir please yes?? also also bearded simon just hits so nice wow. honestly, sometimes he's like too normie-attractive for me. like, a model? with discernable abs? hmm no not for me. but his empty-brain vibes and smile just fuck me up in the end, so he gets to be on the list.

10. tom petersson: this whole band has the strongest BDE and tom is soooo pretty and idk?? he's kinda like simon in that he's almost too conventionally attractive for me to want to jump on, but he has enough of a goofy side to even it out. and he wears some suuuuper low unbuttoned shirts with his tight pants. and smiiiiile oh my god his smile. like, by virtue of status of being in one of the greatest and most influential bands ever, he absolutely earns the title of sexy.

[miyalove]

[ ❄ ]— SNOWED IN.

⤷ pairing. roommate!miya atsumu x fem!reader

⤷ genre. smut, fluff, humor, college au, and they were roommates au

⤷ warnings. swearing, dom!atsumu, sub!reader, ass slapping, begging, atsumu is 1000% a tease, oral (male receiving),  praise, choking on atsumu’s (large) dick, domestic sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, penetrative sex, sex without a condom (please, be safe ya’ll), hickeys, *unedited

3.5k | being snowed in with a broken heater is anything but ideal. when your favorite thick blanket and the layers of fluffy sweaters no longer cut it, your roommate ask of you something you just can’t turn down.

five days.

it has been five days in which the snow storm forced you and atsumu to stay inside. the first day was fine. the power hadn’t went out and your heater was set to a temperature that you and atsumu agreed on. your phones and other electronics were fully charged and ready to use for emergencies or for quick netflix binges. everything was okay.

day two came a little harsher. waking up with your hairs on the back of your neck standing, you realized the power had finally went. it was sometime in the early morning, but even within a short time span the chilly air was still able to nip through the interior. no power meant no heater or hot water. the day dragged on just like anyone would expect. atsumu had complained for hours upon hours. screeching dramatically and throwing his body on the floor like a child who wasn’t allowed to eat candy before dinner.

day three was just as bad if not worse. no amount of blankets and thick winter coats could fight off the cold. you wake up with your teeth chattering, your body shaking, and to top it all off, you think you might be getting sick too. you could tell night had finally came when everything got immensely worst. your breath frosted and sneezing between you and atsumu was non-stop. this was also the day you proposed that the two of you cuddle up for extra warmth. it was a casual conversation that you had to murmur between glassy breaths.

reluctantly, atsumu agreed. at first, he turned away saying something about not “liking the cuddling lifestyle”. you rolled your eyes at his claim because everyone loves cuddles. you had gotten excited at the aspect of showing him what a good session can awaken within. your theory was proven right later into the night though. you rested your head on his shoulder, using some candle light to read through a chapter of a book you’ve been into recently. an exciting thriller that has you anticipatingly flipping through page after page.

atsumu was doing his own thing though. what it was? you didn’t know. really you weren’t paying attention. even when he hummed and grumbled lowly a few times, your brushed it off. not wanting to stray away from the words on the pages, you hoped he worked out whatever his problem is by himself. the last straw though was when his fingers slowly creeped up your thigh.

you shifted your attention, eyeing the man besides you. he boldly holds your stare. he’s daring enough to put on a nonchalant expression, face completely relaxed. his hues shine with something hidden behind them. something you can’t quite make out but they have you not wanting to look away. he doesn’t say anything and for a while the two of you just stare. 

when you drop the book was when he finally pounced. 

“’bout damn time,” he teases. 

in seconds, he pulls you close. your back flush against his chest and his arms pulled you in by your middle, resting there. your sat in between his crossed legs. you had no words at first. everything had happened so fast. for a second you sit there wide-eyed and in shock, fazed and stare lingering in the darkness. then you felt  the comforting warmth slowly creep in. when he spoke, the vibration in his chest felt inviting and things went lax again.

“keep your mouth open ‘nd a fly ‘ill get in there.” you can’t help but laugh.

“whatever happened to ‘not the cuddling type’, huh?”

“shut the fuck up,” venomous words but the way he dug his nose into your neck proved the opposite. 

day four went the same way except now you were both all over each other. the night before had broken something between the two of you that wasn’t just roommates status anymore. he’s become a friend and someone you actually look forward to hanging out and talking with. you see pass his honestly and realize that he’s actually quite charming too. atsumu had thrown you tons of curveballs that day and getting to know him was fun. you recall when you where practically straddling his lap, your hands roaming anywhere and everywhere. 

you faced him, eyes soft and laughter apparent because who knew he was a jokester too. gently caressing at his sharp jaw then sliding down to his firm pecs. your hands roamed his body like an ocean waiting to be ventured. with every feather-like touch, you learned another thing that day. miya atsumu is incredibly attractive. you’ll never admit it to him (because you also learned that miya atsumu has an incredibly large ego), but you must be insane if it took you a damn snow storm to realize something that’s so blaringly obvious.

day five was the day he came to you with that intimate proposal. cuddling in any and every position possible was something that was easy for you to do. you’ve warmed up with close friends, both male and female, so you could say that the special act doesn’t truly mean anything, but this– dear god, this man will be the death of you. 

“you want to– what?” you practically screech. you jump back from his body, already missing the heat, but you want to look him dead in the eyes. his eyes, are the most expressive thing about him. atsumu can lie and tease but there was no getting past him when you gazed into his golden hues, but was he really saying what you think he was saying?

“cuddling and all that can only do so much, yanno?” silence. but he goes on anyway, “thought this was a more... practical solution.” and in pure atsumu matter, he doesn’t stray away from you. looking you dead in the eye with all the confidence in the world. there’s no teasing smile or sarcastic cackle. he’s serious. this attractive man that has women constantly falling at his feet... wants to fuck you.

“this is like for the warmth and all that... right?” you’re hesitant. he can see it in the way you look at him. your hues are clouded with all sorts of swirling emotions; concern, worry, uncertainty. he thinks about taking it back. but it’s far too late for doubt now.

“yeah, for the heat,” he repeats it to reassure you or maybe to reassure himself, he doesn’t know. atsumu sits before you. his hair messy from all the times you ran your hand through it and his cheeks are slightly colored pink. why was this such an awkward conversation to have? there’s a constructing feeling in his chest. he feels like he’s suffocating like every breath he takes is stopped by words trying to choke themselves out of his throat. perhaps it’s the cold finally getting to him or maybe it’s the way the candle light perfectly frames your face. 

“so are ya in?”

it’s the way he bit at his lips that get you contemplating. the way he looked at ready to take you whenever and wherever you asked. it was the anxious way he his leg bounced and the ghost-like circles he was rubbing into your thigh. it set ablaze a trail of desire wherever he touched. it laced your veins with adrenaline and lust made for him by him. him, him, him.

when you leaned into his lips was when he finally got an answer. 

“oh, shit,” you sink down on him as the words leave his mouth.

your lips wrapped around him and he mumbles something thing under his breath that you can’t really catch. the warmth from your tongue makes his stomach tighten. the sight from above looks incredible. your down on your knees, mouth stuffed with his cock, and your sweet little ass on display just for him. atsumu lays right at the edge of your bed, legs spread just wide enough for you to kneel between them. one hand pets at your hair, lacing it between your locks.

the way you expertly circle his tip and how your hands play with his balls, makes him sees stars behind his lids. his stomach tenses with every swallow, every small hum that erupts from your throat. god, you are going to be the death of him. when you look up, you let out a small moan, absolutely loving atsumu’s fucked out expression. his thin lips pout at you, his chest is heavy and falls unevenly. it motivates you, the way he groans and grunts; the way he falls apart at your touch.

“just like that, doll. mhm,” he praises. when you look up, his eyes are half-lidded, clouded with lust meant only for you. a small smirk plays at his lips. he’s completely enamored, sweat beads at his forehead and you don’t think he’s ever looked prettier.

your jaw goes slack when you feel his hips buck. you bob your head, gladly welcoming his shallow thrust. the feeling of his dick heavy on your tongue while he forces you to slide further down makes heat between your legs pool. atsumu takes your humming as a sign to go deeper. soon you’re nose is pressed up on his skin and you’re choking on his cock.

“you’re so pretty like this,” he punctuates his praise with a harsh slap to your ass. the sudden movement makes you fly forward, effortlessly swallowing his dick down again. atsumu is clearly caught off guard. he let’s out a surprised mewl, hip stuttering at the overwhelming pleasure.

“fuck– with y- your mouth full of my cock.”

his grip tightens with every thrust. your scalp burns with all the harsh tugging. there’s droll and snot leaking down from your face but it’s all worth it. your lungs burn, begging you for any kind of air. like he was reading your mind, he lets off of you for few seconds. the lewd pop that follows after rips through the empty room as you catch your breath but that sly smile remains on his face. 

even with your heavy panting and watery eyes, atsumu doesn’t exactly let up. his length rest, merely inches away from your face. he pets at your hair, tugging your locks to give him more access to your neck. you shudder when he starts peppering your skin with soft kisses. your eyes flutter close, enjoying the way he nips and sucks at your neck. that’s definitely going to leave a mark, but you don’t find yourself caring. 

his mouth goes to work while his other hand roams your valley. without hesitation, atsumu slides his hand lower cupping your ass. “fits like a gem,” you hear him mumble between sloppy sucking. the breath he lets out tickles your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

his hand slides up to your front, grazing your nipples through the thick lace of your bra. opening your eyes, you look up just in time to see his gaze darken. reaching higher, atsumu cups the back of your neck. there’s a moment in which he stills. golden eyes bore into your own hues. a plain of emotions swirl within him. admiration in the way he smiles at you, hunger in the way he bits his lips. his hair is messy, tousled with all the times you delicately laced your fingers through them and his lips are swollen from the way he was marking you.

there’s only one word that comes to mind; “pretty.”  you didn’t mean it aloud, but when it comes to atsumu your brain short circuits and all sense is thrown out the window. you feel your face heat up at the embarrassingly simple compliment. 

“speakin’ about yerself, now?” of course, he would. typical atsumu miya with his smooth words that make all the panties drop (including yours). you let out a breathy giggle, liking the way your checks ache with all the smiling. without another thought, his head dips down to your own capturing your lips in a heated kiss. 

it’s lazy and sloppy. all teeth and tongue and no space to breath or think, but you like it like this. you like atsumu like this. raw, exposed, and yours. his hands roam to the back of your thighs, pinching slightly in hopes you get the hint. he wants you. now. 

without breaking away, you lean into atsumu. his back gently lands on your sheets, pillows and blankets shaping his tone body to perfection. you brace your arms to help with the fall, successfully trapping him between your body.

“atsumu,” you say, breaking free. 

“hhm?”

“please, fuck me.”

he chuckles, “say less, doll.”

pulling your sweatpants down, his big hands grope your ass in the process. he moves quickly, rushing to get you ready for him. in one swift moment, your underwear is gone and thrown carelessly somewhere.

“you’re so shameless, baby, with that demanding mouth,” flipping you over, you’re under him now. body perfectly, angled so he can see your pretty features  shift whenever he fucks you just right. he loves seeing your mouth agape. loves how you hang off every word, how your body quivers with every touch, how you cry and moan his name. it’s beautiful. you’re beautiful. 

he leaves a trail of kisses down your body until he’s mere inches away from your cunt. his fingers brush against the thin lining of your panties. why you still have them on is beyond him. arousal leaks through the material while atsumu presses against your heat.

“ah– ‘tsumu,” your breathing is frantic when he presses a fleeting kiss on your clothes core. “you’re such a t-tease.” 

he doesn’t say anything. allowing his actions to speak for him. he teases you, hooking his fingers under the thin lace. the way his cold digits brush at your heat makes for a delicious contrast. 

“you look so good,” he purrs pressing a kiss to the inner part of your thigh. “and you’re absolutely fuckin’ dripping. bet i could just slide right into ya.” his fingers are relentless, they ghost over your clit tracing feather-like circles. it’s enough for short spikes of pleasure to rush through you but just as quickly as they come, they’re gone.

“do you want me?”

“god, yes.”

“beg for it then.”

like clock work, you do. “please, ‘tsumu. i need you so bad right now. your hands, your tongue, your cock-- everything. please, i just wanna feel you so bad.”

“ehh,” he ponders before pressing a kiss to your thighs. “could be better.”

it’s stupid the way your heart flutters at his playful teasing. looking up at him through your hazy eyes, you try your best to muster up the perfect puppy dog face. “please, ‘tsumu?” 

he lets out a huff, “god, you’re so annoying.” everything happens so fast. one second, atsumu is softly pecking at your neck. the next he’s roughly grabbing at you, complete man-handling. 

he pulls you impossibly closer. there is no warning or preparation. he rams himself into you, completely taken over by the way your tight pussy swallows him whole. the burn feels fucking painful, you can’t help the screams that tremble from your lips. 

“oh my f-fucking-- mhpm, god!” he’s so big, in length and thickness. moans fill the room while he fills you up. your hot, wet walls clench around him and he groans at the delicious feeling.

“yer so fucking tight, holy shit.” he nuzzles his nose into your neck. “love this cunt so fucking much.” another slap to the ass that rips a deep moan from you.

“please, ‘tsumu,” you pant.

and at that moment, something within him finally snaps. pulling out from your sopping cunt, the tip of his dick rest within you, then in the same second he slams back into your entrance. lewd moans rip from the both of you while pure euphoria runs through your blood. you arch you back, pressing your chest to his, eyes rolling back every time he rams back into you. with each thrust and roll of your hip, his dick rubs at the spot that makes you see stars.

“you feel so good,” you whimper out watching as his dick pumps in and out of your pussy. “filling me up so good-- fuck, with your big dick.”

he shudders at your words, head coming down to latch onto your pebbled nipples. his tongue laps around the sensitive bud while his spare hand kneads at your other breast. a sharp inhale escapes you in between sobs. his hands are freezing from the chilly air within your apartment. it’s like ice on your skin, a complete contrast to how heated you feels. the feeling knocks you back into reality; you and atsumu are fucking in the middle of a snowstorm.

“how’s that feel, babe?” you answer him with a wanton gasp.

“absolutely fucking amazing,” you punctuate your pleasure with a deep roll of your hips. atsumu chuckles, a mix of a strangled moan and teasing.

 “god, yer such a little freak.” he leans down again repeating his action to your other breast. deep thrust becoming more frequent now.

“only f-for you.” 

your words spur him on, atsumu angles his hips to pound onto the one spot that has you crying out. he has your body shaking, his name tumbles out of your mouth like a mantra while he wrecks your body, moaning into your neck. 

the knot of your pleasure tighten. it burns like a white hot coils that’s about to snap. he knows you’re close. with the way your pussy sporadically clenches around him making him groan. god, you’re almost there. he can feel it. your orgasm is right at the tip of your tongue. so close yet so fucking far. you need more and he senses that with the way you silently beg him. “harder, please-- oh, god.” 

your words get caught on your tongue. he fucks right into you with a force so hard, you might have forgotten how to breath. “yes, just l-like that. hmph.”

“fuck yeah,” he groans, nipping your neck. “so good to me, fuck. such a good girl keeping me nice and warm and shit.” at that, you squeeze around him and he lets out a lewd groan. his cold digits travel down your body, rubbing circles around your messy clit. it’s all too much. the way he expertly runts into you, the pleasure his fingers give you, the way he praises you and nips at all your sensitive spots. 

all you can manage at this point are a high pitched whimpers and pleas of his name. sweat drips down both your bodies, your walls clench around him like a vice as he tries his best to fuck you hard. every thrust brushes right at your sweet spot, clouding your vision. a fire burns within you, leaving you gasping and moaning between sobs of air. 

“cum for me, doll.”

and with his words and one last thrust, the coil finally snaps. pleasure rushes through your body in euphoric waves taking over you. your veins pump absolute bliss through you. atsumu follows soon after, painting your walls with spurts of his seed. overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure floods within you both like surges of electricity. his lips find yours as the last parts of your orgasm finally dies.

once he catches his breath, he pulls away smiling down at the way you look effortlessly gorgeous with his cum stuffed in you. you meet his hues too, mirroring the same exact smile. 

your room is dark, curtesy of the snow covering your windows. candles flicker at your nightstand, painting the room in a dim, yellowish hue. fatigue hits you like a train. all you want is to lay down, close your eyes and welcome the sweet relief of slumber. shifting around, you turn on your side body molding perfectly spooning atsumu. 

“sleepy already?” 

the bedsheets shift towards you. despite having your eyes closed, you can feel atsumu’s hues on you watching  the way your eyelashes fall perfectly on your cheek. you’re so warm and soft. effortlessly gorgeous with or without trying. your hair threads down on your pillow, spiraling to an abrupt end. he wants to run his hands through it, massaging at your scalp to sooth the aching.

then he reminds himself he can. when he’s meet with a mumbled response and a slight hum, he takes the hint. in your haze, you feel the weight of his arms wrap around your body cuddling up to you impossibly closer. 

his breath tickles at your neck, “goodnight, baby.”

(atsumu eyes the way you fall lax within his arms. your legs tangled and wrapped within the thick layers of your comforter. his heart beat rapidly and the smile on his face, despite the exhaustion that laces his veins, can't stop. atsumu isn’t an idiot. he knows what all these symptoms mean, but for now that’s a talk for another time. for now, he’ll silently thank whatever god out there for the terrible weather that brought the two of you closer then ever before. for now, he’ll enjoy the way your body molds perfectly to his.)

[multiplefandomsblog]

Fuyuhiko and Kokichi’s reaction to their s/o replacing them with a plushy

request; Rantaro, Fuyuhiko and Kokichi’s reaction to their s/o giving them almost 0 attention because they’re giving all their love to a plushy? Lol no cuddles for them- plushy’s too cute

warnings; fluff, lots of cussing, unedited, gender-neutral reader, implied human strangulation, strangulation of a stuffed animal, stuffed animals, jealousy?? minor neglecting, comfortyyyy, angst but like, so little angst, hard days at work :(

note; i didn’t do Rantaro’s because i did something similar, right here! also, sorry for making fuyuhiko’s so much longer— i don’t even know why i wrote that much, i have no reasoning-

Kokichi Ouma

“S/oooooo~? I’m cold, can we cuddle-?” Bright purple eyes widened, and a look of pure unfiltered betrayal dawned over his face, it almost looked as if you had poured the expression over his face. His eyes darted towards the plushy in betrayal; his expression almost convinced you that you had accidentally cheated on him. “K-Kokichi? What’s-” You were suddenly very rudely interrupted by his obnoxious shriek of horror—

“UWAAAAAAH! You’re-!” He snortled like a child, inhaling in all his snot loudly and grossly before screaming, “So! Mean!” Wincing at the loud and exaggerated sobbing, you frowned at him, only bringing the plushy closer to your chest. “You can’t guilt me into hugging you instead, Kokichi- Hey— Hey! Stop!” Before you could finish your sentence, Kokichi had pounced on you, his devastated expression from earlier long gone, as now his eyes shone pure rage. 

He was strangling the fucking stuffed animal.

Kokichi may be the hugest liar you will ever meet in the world, but he keeps to his word, that he’ll do anything for love. Even strangling someone.

And in this case, the ‘someone’ was a lifeless stuffed animal.

“K-Kokichi! You fucking dumbass— What do you think that’ll even do!? Kill it!?” You cried out, straining as you tried to yank the plushy away from his iron grip. “Stuffed animals can’t breathe!” Kokichi replied in between grunts, white knuckles gripping the plushy tight around its.. its neck. “Not after this, it won’t!” Cackling victoriously, the gremlin finally managed to pull the plushy away from, and the extraordinary momentum had thrown it across the room. 

“Kokichi! That was my favourite-” Your words had been taken away from you as Kokichi suddenly jumped you, tackling you to your bed as he wrapped his arms and legs around you. “I thought I was your favourite..” His voice was soft, the innocent, puppy-dog tone almost had you cave in. Almost.

“Kokichi…” You whined, “I want my plushy back; you’re too heavy.” Kokichi pinched your back, prompting a squeal out of you, “I’m not heavy, you meanie!” You squirmed, sitting up with the boy clinging to you on your lap. “You didn’t have to pinch me, you ass.” Mumbling, you shuffled up, chest feeling as if it had been crushed by the boy sticking to you. 

Kokichi didn’t reply to your insult, instead, shifting closer to you before stilling, almost like dried clay. “Nishishi! Now you’re all mine!” You stifled a smile, “What? Were you jealous of a plushy?” Kokichi shook his head, grin wide and bright as always, “Of course not! It never had a chance against me so I wasn’t even a little worried!” That was a lie. He was scared if you had gotten too attached to the plushy, you’d rather the plushy’s hugs instead of his—eventually, never hugging him again. Kokichi shuddered at the thought.

“I don’t know, the plushy doesn’t—you know—pinch me so..” Kokichi gripped tighter onto you, making sure to prevent your leave before sighing dramatically, “Fine, I’m sorry, okay? Now just promise to always hug me instead of that stupid pillow, kay?” Kokichi spoke in an annoyingly cute voice— but despite being shrill to your ears, you couldn’t help but melt as you heard the real meaning to it. The meaning behind his little act. In a frustratingly teasing voice, you tantalized him. “So you were jealous.”

Kokichi snorted dismissively, grip not loosening, “Nishishi! Why would I be jealous of a plushy? You’re lucky to even be touching an Ultimate Supreme Leader!” It was ironic, seeing as how you hadn’t even been hugging him back, let alone touching him—to which he had painfully noticed, and disliked. Yet he was acting like you were the one who had been strangling a toy for him.

His grin faltered, and you could catch the almost unnoticeable flash of jealousy that shone in his purple eyes. But despite the small tell, you let him win this round, you neglected him enough. you neglected him for less than a minute before he pounced on you, mans was insane.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu

Fuyuhiko had just gotten back from a rough day at work, he sighed as he opened the door, he was extremely exhausted from doing— what was he doing? Well, he’s a Yakuza, that’s a secret. “S/o, I’m home..!” His voice sounded drained, though relieved, he was finally home and all he wanted was to cuddle you— Ah. But it seems you’ve chosen a plushie over a real-life man. 

Fuyuhiko’s eye fell on the sight of you, snuggling a plushie whilst you watched a movie. He pouted, he was always the one you snuggled. Betrayal ran through his veins; what had changed? Did you not love him anymore?

No, I’m kidding; he’s just being a drama queen.

Despite his sulky demeanour, he refused to beg for your attention just so he could get your.. your soft and warm cuddles... that make him feel safe no matter where he was.

... Well, he tried to refuse. It seems, even Yakuza bosses couldn’t refuse the uncontrollable want to be in your arms. Could you blame him? The man just wanted to be held by his partner. 

He wasn’t going to admit that though. The boss baby had too much pride to demand cuddles, unlike Kokichi-

So he decided, you were going to be given the silent treatment. Yes, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the ultimate Yakuza boss was planning to give you the silent treatment(and fail). It didn’t seem like he needed to anyway, you had been so invested in the movie you didn’t even hear him come in, nor did you greet him like you usually did. Sheeesh, that one must have hurt.

Fuyuhiko furrowed his brow and waited for you to notice him, dropping his shoes on the ground twice. It wasn’t until he started jangling his keys aggressively and slapping his bag against the counter, did you actually notice his presence. After you finally did, you spared him a meek hand wave before bringing the same arm back around your plush tightly. “Oh. Hey, Fuyu.” 

You didn’t even turn your head to look at him.

He simply stared at you, you who had just snuggled closer to your plushy— were.. were you giving it head pats!? His frown deepened, you were just doing it on purpose at this point. 

Scoffing, he sat next to your spot on the couch, glaring daggers into the plushy as you seemed distracted with the TV in front of you. He felt his heart sink as you didn’t cuddle into his side like you usually did. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned into the armrest opposite to you, feigning a grudge. 

He couldn’t even get comfortable on the armrest, he kept shifting every 5 seconds just to get your attention and because he really couldn’t seem to get comfortable on the chair. Fuyuhiko watched you with wide, astounded eyes as you only seemed to stuff your face in the plushy. And yup, you guessed it, he caved in. “Tch... if you’re mad at me for something, can you just tell me what I did wrong? This... plushy bull crap is irritating me.” You turned your head to finally look at him in surprise, he thought you were mad at him?

“Huh?” You perked your head up from the plushy, attention completely on him now. He felt embarrassment wash over his entire body; had you not been doing it on purpose?

“N-nothing- whatever, it’s nothing.” Fuyuhiko’s face flushed, your sudden attention on him; he hadn’t gotten used to it.

Drilling your eyes into him, you sent him an unconvinced look, but shrugged anyway— He’s a grown-ass man, if he wanted cuddles, he can ask for them. 

Fuyuhiko sulked as he watched you turn away, it obviously wasn’t nothing. You turned your head back at him as you heard him mumble something. Looking at him with a feigned-confused expression, you cocked your head to the side. “What’d you say?” 

He flushed and looked away, unconsciously scooting towards you, “I- You can cuddle me instead of that pillow, if you want or whatever. It doesn’t matter.” He murmured, moving to stand up. “Never mind.” You grinned at his brooding demeanour, yanking his hand back onto you and throwing the plush somewhere, “Okay, okay! I was just joking with you, I know how much you want my hugs.” 

He fell with an ‘oomph’ against your body, face blank as his mind didn’t seem to register what had happened yet. 

Ohh, but the moment he felt the warmth spread throughout his body, he let out a sigh of relief. “You’re such a cute fucking asshole.” You laughed at his somewhat compliment, somewhat insult, letting him wrap his arms around you tight. You could feel his body relaxing on top of you, and in response, your own shoulders dropped in relaxation. ‘Yessss..! This was the shit.’ Fuyuhiko’s bad day at work had been long forgotten, as his mind was currently occupied with running thoughts of you.

[ktheist]

CEO!JK + - prompt list - + #47 “You’re seriously like a man-child.”

“ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad.”

“you’re seriously like a man child.”

muses. ceo!jk 

genre. e2l / arranged marriage

word. 2.6k

warnings. implied smut

synopsis. your family legacy is falling into ruins. your father is on his deathbed and your mother and sisters have never worked a day in their lives. their only hope is the jeons - the family of the fiancé you abandoned.

x

it can’t be said that you know nothing of jeon jeongguk per se. for one, he was lightly nudged in your direction by his mother at the age of 6 because he’d been hiding behind her legs since the jeon’s arrived. clad in navy blue kindergarten uniform and gripping tightly onto the brown teddy bear he uncreatively called ‘teddy’, he’d stolen a glance at you for a split second and fixed his gaze to the ground.

“____, say hi to jeongguk, you’re going to be seeing each other often from now on,” your mother nudged you from behind, her voice awfully sweet in the presence of mrs. jeon and her extremely shy son.

you’d found out at 11 years old and him 13 years old, what ‘seeing each other often’ actually entailed.

“i don’t wanna marry you!” you’d screamed in his face when you were left alone by the adults.

“i don’t wanna marry a kid with snot running down her face 24/7 either.” jeongguk’s retort, though held no substance, still made you wipe your nose on your sleeve after you’d left him and locked yourself in your room.

at the age of 13 and him 15, you’d managed to escape the clutches of your family by proposing the idea of attending a prestigious boarding school in zurich where you’d spent most of your adolescent years skipping classes and crashing parties.

by 18, you wanted to laugh at your teachers’ relieved faces when your name was called to receive your diploma, marking the end of your great era in that school.

that was when your mother called you back to south korea, claiming that she’d missed her youngest so very much. but you’d continued to make excuses to stay in zurich, applying for a scholarship and getting into a local university there.

none of your friends knew anyone from home and you’d only passingly mentioned that ‘oh, i don’t talk to my family much’.

but just as you were finishing your degree, the news of your father in his death bed latched onto your limbs and had you hopping onto the first flight home.

“what do you mean? so we’re broke?” yuqi’s voice cut through the air like a knife. even her ray bans couldn’t hide her burning gaze.

to think you willingly walked into this mess of a family.

“yuqi, let dad speak,” miyeon glares.

minnie asks after a lapse of silence, “dad, what do you mean the company’s wounding up?”

your father, a man with greying hair and cheeks losing most of their fullness, stares at nothing but the ceiling, as if seeing the angels welcoming him.

“do you remember uncle jee?” even breathing seems difficult for a man that used to work out everyday at the private gym and always invited you to join in on his healthy lifestyle, “he transferred all the company’s assets to his name and fled the country. even his family doesn’t know-”

“oh, for heaven’s sake!” your mother cries, shooting up from the sofa farthest from the bed - you should have known something was wrong when a wife wasn’t waiting by her husband’s bed and took the seat that’s on the far end from her husband, “just admit that it’s your fault! you trusted him too much even though i warned you about him! you ruined this family!”

“i should’ve brought popcorns,” soyeon says from next to you, shooting you an unapologetic - heck, even entertained smile - when you craned your neck out of mild disbelief.

this family’s a little fucked up in the head.

but they call you the black sheep that got away.

“so what now? do we have to... work?” soojin asks, a horrified look spreading across her face.

those several inches nails aren’t made for work. that’s for sure.

“the jeons...,” he coughs, “jeongguk promised to help us rebuild the family business because my father - your grandfather, supported the jeons when they were starting out.”

all of a sudden, seven pairs of eyes turn to you as if you’re the rabbit in a cage full of wolves. the air turns chilly as if someone’s turned the ac to a minus degrees celcius.

“well, don’t look at me, i haven’t talked to him for 9 years,” despite your hands held up and your shoulders almost making your neck shrink into your body, all they see is a little gold piggy bank.

“what? what about the times when we talked on the phone? you sounded so close!” your mother’s source of rage shifts to you.

“well, i mean, he’s pretty active on instagram-” you couldn’t even properly finish your sentence when a hand lands on your shoulder and you’re staring into your reflection in yuqi’s ray bans.

“start talking,” her cherry lips curl as she holds out your phone that you don’t even notice she’s swiped out of your hand bag which, “hey, how did you-” you remembered was zipped shut.

x

“you got something to tell me?” the jeongguk before you wears a smirk that exudes confidence and billion dollar legacy backing him up.

no longer the shy kid that avoids the gaze of those he’s not used to and keeps his head hung low. if anything, his chin is looking too tilted for your liking. though you can’t say the same for the muscles that fill out his suit and wraps around his biceps a little too snug.

he’s finally foregone the side swiped bangs and grew it enough to have it tied back into a man bun, enhancing his sharp jawline and proving once and for all that puberty isn’t just for anyone.

the hesitant hum reverberates against your chest. you can only hope that it’s not audible for persons besides yourself, “you look great.”

his head drops as he chuckles but you can still see the way his jaw clenches, cutting off every humor that’s ever present before looking straight at you through his lashes, “can’t say the same for you.”

you resist the urge to shoot up, handle of your handbag tucked in the juncture between your arm and forearm and strut out of the restaurant without looking back.

“that rotten attitude of yours hasn’t changed i see,” allowing the smile to sneak up your face, you feel your nails digging into your palms underneath the table, rooting you back to your reason for being here.

“it’s the thinking you’re better than me for me,” he states, back leaning against the chair.

“oh, baby, i am better than you,” the words escape your lips as naturally as breathing does.

“i don’t know about that, i certainly wouldn’t bring an on-and-off boyfriend of mine to a restaurant where my potential clients usually go to,” there’s a gleam in his eyes.

but before you can dissect the meaning of his words, the sight of a familiar jet black haired man trudging from toward your table with a distorted expression and waiters hurrying after him from a few steps away - catches your attention.

“___! baby, i’m sorry!” if you look closer, you could see the tears welling up in his eyes when he spots you.

“eric,” the hiss under your breath is venomous, threatening, “what are you doing here?!”

“i’m here for you, baby. i realized you’re the only one for me,” he drops to his knees, pulling out a velvet red box from his pocket. the waiters that were chasing after him now freezing, looking at each other back and forth before eric proclaims his undying love and his desires to, “i don’t want to live a life without you- marry me, baby!”

“stop,” you say curtly, body involuntarily leaned forward to make sure your voice reaches him. the sight of a smirking jeongguk adds to oil to the flames growing inside of you, “stop it. you’re acting insane, right now.”

“...i promise, i’ll never cheat on you again...” eric goes on, tears freely streaming down his cheeks as his shoulders sag, “i even tattooed your name on my chest.”

the italic curls of your name is inked in black a few inches underneath his left collarbone, probably where his heart is supposed to be. but at the moment, all you can see is jeongguk’s leisure wine drinking, “oh my god, security. please, take this man away, he’s disrupting lunchtime.”

the two waiters seem to snap out of their initial trance, marching over to eric and gripping his arms with all their might before dragging him away at the manager’s instructions. it’s only then, do you notice the flash of camera from one of the tables on the farthest left side of the restaurant, its position allowing for a full view of your expression and possibly only a view of jeongguk’s back.

“you,” a whisper slips out of your mouth once you’ve assured the manager that everything was settled and you’d continue eating, “you planned this.”

“what an assertive deduction. i almost thought you would’ve missed it altogether,” he remarks, a look of pure awe spreading across his face.

“fuck you, jeon,” slamming your fist against the table, you slip out of your chair and march out of restaurant, fully aware of the eyes that follow you until you’re out of sight.

x

no word got out.

sns was oddly silent about the incident at the restaurant but your sisters know anyway. shuhua knocks on your door, fixing you one of her calming smiles before dropping the bomb.

“mother and elder sisters don’t know, i’m not gonna tell them but i think it’s better if you talk to jeongguk about it.” is what she suggests.

but she doesn’t know he was the one that orchestrated it, as if your life was a show and he was there for a good time. either way, to ease your sister’s heart, you make your way to jeongguk’s office.

he made you wait for a good two hours, having his assistant retell that he’s busy and can’t be disturbed at the moment. but once you’ve had enough, you barge into his room, nails digging into your palms at the lack of meeting partner and the man’s too casual appearance with his blazer draped over his recliner and his sleeves folded up till his elbow.

“i heard you were in a meeting,” you announce, making sure to glare at the secretary that stopped dead in her tracks when you managed to slip past her and through the door of jeongguk’s office.

“as you can see, i’m quite busy,” he nods, hands gesturing at the open mac in front of him.

“what are you playing at, jeon jeongguk?” a smacking sound echoes through the air as you slam your palms on his mahogany table, glaring down at him “because i swear to god, i will make sure you regret messing with me.”

but instead of the panic you hope to raise, a chuckle trickles out of his lips, “ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad.”

how the prettiest pairs of lips could smirk like that is beyond you. natural pink lips, curving deviously as his bunny lips peek innocently underneath. you don’t notice you were staring until his voice fills the silence, forcing you to tear your gaze away from those kissable lips and meet his gaze.

“you really do wanna kiss me,” there’s that gleam in his eyes - that of realization and something - something - you can’t pinpoint.

gone is the boy that used to tell you your pigtails are lopsided and proceeded to fix it for you - he made it worse but you didn’t really mind because it was the effort that counted.

but that was almost a decade ago.

“you’re seriously like a man child,” you shake your head, the initial reason of marching over to his office now shoved to the back of your mind. the last thing you want is to be in the same room with a man who seems to only be interested in making someone else’s life his own personal entertainment.

but before your fingers brush the metal handle of the double doors, another hand brushing on top of yours, feather-light fingers pleading for you not to walk out on him.

“i’m sorry,” he doesn’t sound like the jeon jeongguk you’ve come to know within the short span of time - like a man stripped off his cards and games, “i went too far.”

you don’t - can’t - say anything but your body isn’t exactly listening to your mind’s instructions to move out of his grasp. out of his presence.

“i didn’t know the reporter was there - i made sure he’s keeping his mouth shut after you left,” his breath is hot against your neck and his front brushes against your back but not really touching.

“why did you do it? why did you bring eric all the way here?” you pray to thank the stars for the strength in your voice despite the feeling that’s slowly disappearing from your knees.

“i found out  you guys broke up because he cheated.. i wanted to make sure he knew you were mine,” his clicks his tongue, “i didn’t know you dated such a psycho-”

your world spins for the briefest moment before you come face to face with a wide eyed jeongguk.

“first off, you don’t own me,” you announce, arms coming to cross over your chest in show of protest, “and second off,” the semblance of surprise and panic finally slips through his facade when your hands grip his collar, “kiss me.”

the last thing you remember is jeongguk nodding ever so slightly before his eyes flutter shut just miliscends before yours. you feel his arm band around your lower back, free hand digging into your hair and pulling you closer into the kiss. he tastes like mint and lemon candies that your nanny used to give you and you’d give it to him, saying something like “it’s my favorite candy but i like you so i’ll let you have one”. you don’t miss the small jar he keeps on the side of his desk full of those candies.

but the matter of this and getting married in order to save your family from falling into ruins are two different matters altogether.

and somewhere down the line, you find yourselves still arguing about the littlest of things.

“um, what do you mean that red roses aren’t romantic? it’s literally the symbol of undying love,” surprisingly enough, it’s jeongguk that’s fighting for the fiercer shade of the petal.

“you think fuchsia pink doesn’t symbolize love?” you roll your eyes.

then comes the time when your mother and magically healed father asking for a grandchild to which jeongguk grins, “we’re working on baby jeon.”

(you’re married and the petals themed in your wedding are both fuchsia and garnet)

“excuse me?” you turn to him, brows arching. that alone warrants a break of cold sweat on jeongguk’s forehead as he cautiously laughs.

“i mean, w-we’re not ready yet.”

rather, you’re not ready to forego your child-less phase in exchange for late night awakenings and learning cry-languages.

but you’re not exactly being careful either, what with the two of you finding the holes in time to slip away from your family and into your childhood room only for jeongguk to slam you against the wall and bend you over the vanity.

“jeongguk did you bring a condom?” you ask.

“i’ll pull out,” is all he says and you’re barely listening as you clasp your palms agaist your mouth, trying not to let out the moans pass through your lips.

when you go back to your family, jeongguk’s arm is around your waist and you both sit together as you joke and laugh with your sisters whilst jeongguk raises a glass to joining your dad at the gym.

x

note. hope yall enjoyed!

see drabble game! for how to request!

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

I got major whumperflies reading Drowning parts one and two... are you planning on continuing it?

Drowning Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

@asrasmysoulmate

It's not much on the whump side, but lots and lots of care, comfort, and fluff with a sick supervillain in there.

Warnings: vomit, bathing, feverish whumpee, delirium, hallucinations

~

Hero gathered the wailing supervillain into her arms and held him like that for a long time. She should've watched her tongue. She should've... Hero sighed, there was no point in thinking about how she could've done better when the deed was already done.

Eventually, Supervillain's sobs ceased and were replaced by a vulgar motion. He was heaving, throat convulsing...

Hero shoved Supervillain's head to the side as his stomach's contents expelled themselves. After he finished vomiting onto the floor, he just laid there, head limp, and allowed the trails of puke to slid down his chin.

Hero was just standing there and staring at the scene infront of her. But, recovering from her shock, she lifted Supervillain up and carried him to the bathroom. Setting him lazily by the toilet, she grabbed an unused toothbrush and slapped some toothpaste on it.

Supervillain gagged again, pain coursing through his lungs and ribs. His stomach hurt, badly, and all he wanted to do was lie on the tempting cool floor...

"Hey, hey, hey, whoa. Are you okay?" Hero asked when she noticed Supervillain keeling over. Now, in the better light, he looked like pure trash. He skin was a ghastly shade of gray with vomit and spit still speared across his lips. Snot bubbled under his red nose and his eyes watered. Hero felt a twinge of pity- here was an insanely sick supervillain, most likely feverish out of his mind, trusting one of his sworn enemies. It was unnatural, but more importantly, unheard of.

"Wh... iturts," Supervillain slurred, quite frankly unable to form a complete sentence.

Hero furrowed her brow. She didn't understand what garbled nonsense made its way to her ears, but she hummed in response. Supervillain seem content with the miniscule answer he received and pressed his burning nose to the condensation build-up around the toilet bowl.

"Want to brush your teeth?" Hero asked, handing him the toothbrush. Supervillain clumsily took it only to drop it. Hero pursed her lips and prepared another. She couldn't risk more germs entering Supervillain's system.

She registered that Supervillain was way too weak and feverish to hold an one ounce toothbrush, so she pull him into her lap, allowed his wet head to relax against her chest, and started to brush his teeth.

He was so tired and fatigued that his lips loosely molded around the plastic brush, head nodding softly.

Hero tenderly brushed each tooth with dentist-like precision and motherly care- if that's not too ironic. All thoughts of their previous encounter vanished; he was in her care now and she would do anything to comfort him.

It was as if her already golden heart was fashioned with another serum of empathy. She didn't have to brush his teeth to get rid of the vile taste- it wouldn't kill him, so why would she?

She also didn't need to bathe him either, and certainly did not need to tip his head back so soap wouldn't get into his earthly eyes. She washed his face with a soft silk washcloth, gently so she wouldn't wake the now sleeping supervillain.

When her instinctual caring of the patient was done, and he was changed into a fresh pair of clothes, she laid him on her own bed.

Hero suddenly reeled backwards. What was she doing? It was like she was in a trance, caring for the villain as if he was an angel from heaven. Actually that might be an understatement...

Nevertheless, amongst doubts and courage, Hero continued to tend for his very needs. Right now, it was sleep; lots of rest and slumber to build up his strength.

Upon waiting for his awakening, Hero started to research about tending someone with pneumonia. Every single website practically screamed at her to take him to a hospital, but that couldn't be done. She couldn't risk other heroes finding and arresting him.

Supervillain stirred, muttering something sleepily. He blinked open his eyes and tried to roll over, but it caused a coughing fit to rack at his ribs.

"Hey, go back to sleep," Hero rubbed Supervillain's hair.

"Why t'robo... chasin'meh?" Supervillain said, scratchy and raspy. Hero followed his glassy gaze to the middle of her bedroom. There wasn't anything there.

"What do you see Supervillain?"

"Robo."

"Hmm," Hero replied, still stroking his hair. She did this until a feverish sleep took him under again. Then, she rushed into the kitchen, grabbed tylenol, a thermometer, and an ice pack wrapped in a washcloth. She returned to find Supervillain still unconscious, jerking with breaths as his sleeping body tried to draw precious air in.

Hero slipped the thermometer under Supervillain's tongue- it was easy now that his face was completely relaxed. When the thermometer barked at her the dreaded 103.5 degrees fahrenheit, she gently shook her ward awake and coaxed him into taking some tylenol.

She placed the icepack on his flushed forehead. The heat radiating off his body began to melt the ice in a short few minutes. Hero started to bit her lip, desperately trying to get this dangerously high temperature down. She thought of all the possible long-term effects...

No. She had to stay focused. Focused and collected. She propped Supervillain upwards to alleviate the mucus build up and went back to work at breaking the fever.

Whether or not Hero succeeded in the end, to draw the dragon away from the nest, didn't make the pleas from Supervillain any less concerning.

He would scream, ragged and fearful, whenever he would awake from a fitful doze. Sometimes, he would beg for mercy from the torture his delirious mind thought he was enduring.

"Stop it! Stop it please!" He sobbed, trying to curl up on himself- anything to escape his torturer's ruthless hand of strife.

"Relax, Supervillain," Hero mumured, her voice stern and firm due to the weary stress, but at the same time her usual chirp. The motherly chirp of a hen that usually brought Supervillain so much comfort.

At these moments, her voice would draw him into another unreality.

"Don' like," he mumbled. "Don' like panda."

Hero sighed, rubbing her tiring eyes.

"What's wrong with panda?" She asked, hoping he was talking about the plaid shirt he was wearing.

"Too warm," Supervillain earnestly explained- or to an extent. Really, to Hero, it sounded like he was trying to get a kitten off his lap. He wanted it, but his resolve was too kind to exactly remove the curled up furrball.

"Your blanket?"

"Fur bear," Supervillain chittered. "Yeh..." His voice trailed off as another wave of lethargic dizziness hit him. He whimpered, resting deep into the plushy pillow.

Hero smiled softly and cupped Supervillain's warm cheek. His fever was breaking, she could tell by the added tan to his blanched face.

It was nearly nighttime. The sun was setting, its rays hitting the pair. Hero sat with her legs crossed and examined his drooping face. He would fall alseep soon, whisked away to a land of darkness and dreams.

Hero left to take care of her own personal needs. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and showered. However, the shower was short-lived and the hero was still lathered in shampoo when she checked on the supervillain. She grinned and finished her shower.

Supervillain was just waking up again when Hero returned with her hair bound and wrapped in a towel on the top of her head. He weakly tried to touch the towel, failed miserably, but still grinned like a toddler and his train toy.

"Want to eat?" Hero asked, remembering the leftover soup in the fridge. Her patient nodded.

Hero fed the supervillain like she did in the morning, slow and coaxing. For the most part, her ward refused to allow the shiny metal to slide between his gums, but at last he consented.

Hero fed him- clutching the mattress to ensure her patience to not rush him. The friendly gesture of kindness ended with Supervillain back in Hero's arms as he dozed off. Hero almost nearly fell alseep too if it wasn't for the repetitive tapping on her door.

Knock, knock.

Hero's heart jumped and she quickly made sure Supervillain was covered. She locked her bedroom door and went to the frontdoor.

Knock, knock.

Maybe if Hero had a window or an eye-hole or something, she could've avoided the looming catastrophe.

Hero opened the door open, only to be thrown against the floor by blast of pure strength.

"Where is he!" Came the all too-familiar voice. It boomed throughout the house, focalizing on the entryway where Hero and the intruder were.

"I said," a dark figure stepped into the light, a hood obscuring the livid face underneath. "Where is Supervillain, Hero?"

The figure stripped off his hood to reveal none other than her fellow ex-prisoner, holding a sharp knife.

Villain.

[fourangers]

Hi Fourangers,

First of all, I love your blog so much. It's like going through a history back when Naruto Manga chapters were released weekly and your reviews were so Golden, Hilarious and spot-on. Am a new fan though (especially an SNS fan), I just got into this fandom only this year. I don't know if you'll answer my ask, but I just wanted to try and ask you few questions and I pray that you might answer me....

1. Since you've written in a post that you were active in the eastern part of the fandom, How was chapter 698 received in Japan? Because this is the chapter I inherently realized they both love each other. Yeah, I was too late but somehow whenever they interact with each other in previous chapters I always find them to be 'Weird' for just to be friends. Chapter 698 is just blatantly obvious that they love each other. Considering Homophobia and Shounen genre, I have no idea how it was perceived over there back then in 2014.

2. Which scene made you to ship SNS?

3. As an SNS'er how do you feel about the ending, where everyone was married off when they were just 19 just to make some shitty sequel??? As a new fan, I felt betrayed and It would've been perfect if they had stopped at chapter 699, leaving an open ending.

4. How do you face with the accusation about Naruto and Sasuke as brothers and we, SNS'ers are Incest shippers??? I don't care about that Indra and Ashura thing. But Naruto himself told he considers Sasuke as his Brother couple of times. And in Chapter 699, Sasuke acknowledged, 'He finally understood what it meant'.... It's the only thing that confuses me and I don't even have an answer!!! Plus, Kishi himself gave an interview that he based Sasuke on his Brother... I really wonder how he gave such an interview when he literally made them wear necklaces with each other's faces.

5. How was Naruto and Sasuke's sexuality perceived in the fandom back then??? Man!! Kishimoto just made lot of comic reliefs on their sexuality by making Sasuke on Sai jutsu, Naruto not interested in Icha Icha but making Reverse Harem no Jutsu, Naruto was angry when Konohamaru made Boy on Boy jutsu whereas he had no problem with him doing it. LOL. And all those homoerotic posters. What do you think about their sexuality, personally??

6. Why did Kishi had to develop their bond as Soulmates with some unintentional or intentional romantic undertones, if he was eventually going to pair them up with girls??? He easily could've gave many such romantic tropes to other girls and keep the bond between N and S as purely friendship or brothers. It still would've made sense.

7. Final one, Was Naruto really Nosebleeding when Kurama made a joke about Sasuke's kiss in Chapter 572???? We had a lot of heated discussion with other shippers where they claim that it was just a splotch of snot.

Sorry for the lengthy ask....... I am so eager to know your answers and I don't want to spam your ask box by sending multiple asks.

Thanks 😊😊😊

Hey yo! Welcome new SNS fan! I'm so glad that you joined us and I'll try to answer as best as I can. I'm not very active here on tumblr (except browsing lol) but your ask was such a delight to read.

1. I honestly don't remember. I think I didn't follow the japanese boards until the eventual 699-700 disaster. People were craving for reactions and I was curious about it too lol. And well...it's been years, I doubt I'll be able to find the reactions from that time. Imo, most readers don't care much about pairings, they just wanted to read about power-ups and abilities and the basic Naruto Vs Sasuke. Though there are some backhanded jokes about how gay Naruto is for Sasuke.

2. Hah. It's going to be very anti-climatic but it was when Naruto and Sakura were eating in Ichiraku Ramen. Naruto just used Rasenshuriken against Kakuzu and he busted his arm. Sakura was healing his arm and her attention was focused on Naruto. I used to be a NaruSaku shipper so I thought "Oh hey! This is the moment that Naruto would have a candid romantic moment!" But nope. He talked about Sasuke. And I was already getting suspicious about Sasuke's feelings towards Naruto ya know? And the whole "SASUKE IS MIINEEEEEE" in Orochimaru's lair. It was that moment I thought "you only have Sasuke in your head don't you, Naruto?" and started shipping SNS.

3. Hooo boy was I surprised when it was suddenly revealed that they had the basic heteronormative, boring marriage with bunch of clones of themselves. Everyone thought that it was almost like a bad fanfiction come true and some thought that it was fake. It was a pandemonium lolololol. I also thought that it was too lame to be true and lo and behold, when it came true I was floored. And then whenever Kishimoto threw new material, I got insanely pissed off because S*arada and B*ruto becoming pairing material is ok because they are a girl and a boy, and then they paralleled with Naruto and Sasuke which are only FRIENDS because they are both men. ARGH. Open ending was what Kishimoto planned from the very beginning but wrote a sequel to earn more money.

In that aspect, I made peace with it because of the whole anime/manga industry. I learned that, as a mangaka, you don't earn a lot of money with selling books, but rather with merchandise and profiting with sales right. And that guy have a family to raise, have two kids (which is hilarious about how B*ruto movie is his self-insert story), he needs a steady income. Also, I read reports about how anime studios are so poor and animators don't receive a decent income not to mention they are overstaffed and tired, and B*ruto is a good money cow for them to earn money so they can invest later on other anime they have more passion about it. So even though I hate this story with a strength of thousands suns, they are putting meal on people's tables and making them pay rents. I'm ok.

4. Lemme roll my eyes because in the Last movie they said that Hinata is related to Kaguya and so is the Uzumaki and Uchiha clan so they are all related woo hoo. But in the aspect of brothers because reincarnations bla bla bla, didn't Naruto himself said that he's no longer that brother, he's himself? Hmm...I gotta re-read it. One day. Maybe. lol. But I'm sure that he said "Sasuke is not my brother but I'm sure we'll understand well as friends" so there. Honestly, there are a lot of interviews out there and a lot of them are fake, so I'd always take the interviews with a grain of salt lololol. I do know from artbooks that Kishimoto wanted to create Sasuke as a rival-esque character and that was it. As he was developing Sasuke and Naruto's relationship, since he liked the whole yin-yang concept, whenever he wrote Naruto's story, Sasuke's was developed at the same time as his shadow.

5. I can tell from Naruto Forums (I used to participate back in that day) MOST of the non-shippers thought it was gay as hell, but you know...it was a relic of that time. While they thought it was gay, they didn't put too much thought about you know? Because it was shounen, and we knew that it was a joke that it couldn't be taken seriously. Of course, in the SNS fandom, we did make more analysis and there were a lot of instance when Naruto and Sasuke's sexuality was questioned. Some other non-shippers also thought that Naruto was totes gay for Sasuke (including a IRL friend).

Imo, Naruto is definitely bisexual in my view. Sasuke I think he's asexual or gay. He's attracted to Naruto, but mostly because of his connection to him, not because of his physical attributes, so yeah...asexual. Or Pansexual. Sasuke is more complicated lmao. Imo, Naruto could be pansexual too, come to think about it. Yeah, I guess both being pansexual can be valid.

6. He developed Naruto and Sasuke being soulmates from the very beginning, that was proven in his comments in artbooks and in the manga. He probably created with the intention of making it purely platonic, going beyond physical ties. Then he shot himself on the foot by drawing Naruto thinking about Sasuke on bed, talking about how Sasuke is cool, meanwhile Sasuke waxing poetic about how Naruto saved him. What gives? Lol. Yeah, I think he got too enamored writing their relationship that he didn't have time to write romantic ones. What I noticed that Sakura's popularity never was really high, so I could see some editors putting their fingers all over it and making her less relevant. Also, Kishimoto didn't know how to handle her, so when she got her time to shine was the whole fake confession disaster. Coupled with Kishimoto sexism and, in his words (Kurenai's flashback), women are useful to spout more babies, women was never really relevant in his story, unfortunately. Even Kaguya who was technically the big bad boss, was never really fleshed out in comparison to Madara. So the null het romantic moments it's not because he wanted to elevate SNS moments, it's more about how he's incompetent about it. It's either Hinata slowly elevating to a relevant status because forced interaction (Pain's sacrifice and Neji's death) or Sakura being obligated to be pining over Sasuke because she's a girl. It's even more painful to see that, if we ignore B*ruto, both girls are shown to be just talking with their kids and dusting shelves, basically being housewives, even though thorough the story (especially Sakura) it was implied that both of them have much more potential than being their husband accessories.

7. It was a splotch of snot. I can confirm myself lol. Whenever the chapter is out and fans would scan it to scanlate it, the editor usually would amp up contrast to max. So usually the lines get much more thicker than usual, when you read the official release which gets straight from the source, you can notice how the lines are more delicate.

Oh lol...but then we also have a lot of controversy about translating style. THAT one is a whole new can of worms to open.

Man I had fun answering your questions! Please send more :P

[xmint-conditionx]

☆ flanked ☆ prologue | knj

(verb) flank - 

guard or strengthen (a military force or position) from the side.

attack down or from the sides, or rake with gunfire from the sides.

☆ pairing: soldier!namjoon x widow!reader; namjoon x fem!reader ☆ word count: 2K ☆ summary: you’re a recently widowed military spouse who is stationed at camp walker, south korea. you’re dealing with the tragedy of your husband’s recent death, and in the process, you accidentally meet a k-pop idol you’ve had a crush on for years. who knew you’d both be at the same post while he’s doing his compulsory service? who knew he’d be so damn nice? who knew it would be impossible to get him out of your head? ☆ warnings: mentions of death, public embarrassment, military death, adult language ☆ a/n: hey everyone c:i’m really happy to be reuploading this fic; i’m going to set a goal of updating it once a month. this is my baby, and i want to do it right, so if it doesn’t come as predictably as i want it to, apologies in advance, but i really hope you enjoy what i have! 

this fic starts of intense and will only get more intense. i very much recommend double checking the warnings list because there’s gonna be some pretty heavy stuff in the prologue here and going forward. please do keep in mind that this is purely fiction and i do not want (most of) this to actually happen to anyone. it won’t all be sad though, promise! i mean it’s namjoon we’re talking about: the biggest goofball on the planet. there will be eventual smut, but we have to build up to it, now don’t we? thanks luv, enjoy!

Here you are, in the quaint little convenience store and dry cleaning shop right outside of post, on just another cloudy Winter Wednesday. However, today is a little different, because you have made it to the front of the line and have begun violently crying. Not one of those shedding a single tear cries, but a terrible cry that has taken hold of your entire body. A shaking, snot-faucet, fist-clenching cry. Nothing truly lamentable has happened, except for an inability to recall the Korean word for receipt. You’ve lived at Camp Walker for just shy of two years, so it’s safe to say your ineffectiveness in vocalizing your needs isn’t for lack of knowledge. Despite your quickly-grasped and quite thorough knowledge of the language, the overwhelming sadness and anger you possess about your situation somehow has evaporated away all your Hangul proficiency. Which has left you looking utterly incompetent. Of course a breakdown is in order. All you needed to do was pick up your dead husband’s dress blues for fucks sake, but you can’t remember how to speak and now you’re embarrassing yourself and wasting this poor lady’s time and why does this have to be so goddamn difficult.

The people behind you in line are now beginning to stare in a strange mix of confusion, concern, irritation, and apprehension. Perfect. You exit the line and begin sputtering out desperate attempts at the lost word, so entirely wrapped up in your own stupid brain that you fail to register the approach of a tall man in an American style ACU. A deep and calm voice eases out of the truly tree-sized man in front of you.

“Ma’am, do you need some help?” he asks.

Your vision is tear-ruined and the last thing you want is pity. Pity is exhausting. 

“Oh, you’re gonna help the poor little sad girl, huh?” you spit out at him, not even bothering to look up, “just tell me the fucking word for receipt please. That’s all I need.” 

Despite your downright rudeness, the man replies without hesitation. “Yeongsujeung. Are you sure that’s all I can help you with?” You look over towards the counter to see that the lady has begun helping other customers, and you really aren’t looking forward to waiting in line again. No pity, you remind yourself, so you shake your head at the man and meekly muster out a “gamsahabnida” as you stare at the floor, too embarrassed at your lack of composure to make eye contact with your new acquaintance. 

He just sighs and says, “Ma’am, would you mind if I stood in line for you? It might feel good if you sat down for a minute. I promise it’s not a hassle. I’m here to get my dry cleaning too.” 

Jesus Christ, what is this guy? Some kind of mind reader? Who is that observant? Or are you just that obvious? You really, really don’t want more help. That’s all people have been trying to do for the past week. Coming by your house with food, offering to walk your dog, so many informational pamphlets about therapy, every person saying that they can be a listening ear if you need it. But you don’t. You just want to be left alone already. Nothing anyone has said has been comforting, because they don’t actually know what it’s like. They just don’t get it. And it’s nice that they want to help and are actually trying, but fuck. It mostly just makes things worse. But your head hurts from the exertion of crying, and that’s all it takes to convince you that you might actually want to sit down.

You wipe your eyes and finally feel like you’re allowed to really breathe again. You look up at the kind man to thank him once more, this time more sincerely, and in that instant, you’re sure you’ve gone insane. That’s got to be it. The death of your husband has thrown you completely off your rocker. That’s the only explanation for what stands before you. You’ve finally had a full psychotic break and are currently hallucinating in the corner store. You’d honestly burst out laughing if your throat wasn’t raw, because standing in front of you is a man who looks remarkably like Kim Namjoon. 

You haven’t thought about this man in years, and his dark shorter haircut instead of his usual longer locks is probably the most confusing matter about the whole thing, oddly enough. You recall in your mind the photocard you have of him from when you bought one of their albums several years ago. The luscious long blonde hair in the photo is shockingly different to the style that he’s sporting now. If it weren’t for his signature dimple greeting you alongside his small sincere grin, you’d almost have never recognized him. 

Oh my god. And now you’re standing in front of him, and he’s standing in front of you, and he’s so much taller than you thought he would be, and you’re having a meltdown in a cornerstore, and he’s so much more handsome in person, and now you’re staring into each other's eyes and this can’t be happening. 

It can’t really be him. You’ve just gone completely mental. You know the leader of BTS began his compulsory military service about a year and a half ago, but the chances of you crossing paths is still nearly impossible. You begin to tell yourself that he’s just a doppelgänger and your recent distress and suffering has made your brain desperate for serotonin. It can’t really be him. You’re just crazy now. That would be easier to deal with, at least. 

You half don’t believe it’s him and half don’t want to believe it’s him. If it is him, you sure as hell don’t want to make the interaction any more weird than it’s already been. If it’s not him, you’d only be embarrassing yourself further. The best, and really, only course of action to take at this point, because you absolutely do not trust your words, is just to nod your head and avert your gaze as you walk to the little bench by the door. You try to focus your thoughts on literally anything other than your brain’s manifestation of a pop star. It almost doesn’t happen, but as peace comes, you mentally thank yourself for your long-time practice of mindfulness. It would have been an impossible task had you never done this before. By the time he gets to the front, you’ve successfully managed to calm down and focus on your breathing. You’ve got yourself convinced the man simply looks similar to Namjoon, and that’s it. Nothing to get worked up about.

As you rejoin the man, he greets you with another warm grin and gestures to the counter. Shit. Are you ready to talk again? He’s insisting you go first, and you notice the little dimple poke out again. His lips are so… pillowy. Oh god, are you staring? You shake loose of his grasp on you and in practically perfect Korean, apologize to the lady for before, tell her the last name and details on the order, and tell her you’re sorry about misplacing the receipt from drop off with the order number on it because it’s... been a really long week. She nods, seeming relieved you didn’t burst into tears again and goes in the back to search for your items. 

The tall serviceman next to you now speaks to you in Korean. “That was impressive. You’ve been here for a long time?” 

“Only two years.” 

“Well I suppose you really didn’t need my help then,” he says and chuckles a little. “I’m glad to see sitting down was able to help you relax.” 

The lady hands over the dry cleaning and you thank her. As you pay, tears begin to swell in your eyes again. You’re holding the things your husband will be buried in. You can’t stop yourself from picturing it all… the funeral, his cold body, whether you’ll have to hold a closed casket ceremony, his poor mom, how long the receiving line is going to be, whether he would want flowers or not, wondering if you’ll be able to put his little award stripes on his suit jacket in the right order or if you’re going to have to get help… again.

 Being so wrapped up in your thoughts, you don’t notice your new acquaintance giving the lady his ticket. He turns to you after she’s walked in the back. 

“Lucky husband, getting his dress uniform picked up for him. You really know how to spoil a man, huh?” The seemingly innocent comment shoots fire through your veins. The woman returns with his dry cleaning and they go through payment as you let the anger boil inside of you. He is oblivious to the metaphorical bombs going off inside your body. You stare a hole into the man’s head as you spit out “My husband is fucking dead.” 

You turn to leave and don’t look back, not giving him a chance to process your revelation. He makes the connection a moment too late, but he’s quick to catch up with you in the parking lot, this time speaking English. “Ma’am please let me apologize. I didn’t realize...” 

You continue walking to your car; you don’t want to look at him again. “I don’t need an apology from you. It doesn’t matter.” 

“Please, I had no idea. I was trying to make small talk; I never would have said that-“

You whir around and glare at him. You were done. “I get it, okay? Just stop feeling sorry for me already. I’m tired of it. Thank you for waiting in line for me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a fucking funeral to plan.” The words come flying out and with each new sentence, you see him recoil again and again. His eyes are full of remorse and... understanding? You hold his gaze longer than you wanted to, and time stands still. What are you doing?

You’re fumbling with your keys, trying to manage the electronic key fob to unlock your car. He takes this opportunity to scribble some words and numbers on a paper he has clumsily fished out of one of his many uniform pockets and extends it out to you. Is he really trying to give you his number right now?! You’d be really flattered that a man this attractive is making a pass at you, if you hadn’t, you know, just told him your husband fucking died. You furrow your brows and roll your eyes, ready to chew him out again. 

“Here, this is the name and address for a group therapy session on post for people who have gone through recent loss. We meet on Thursdays. I don’t know how much longer you’ll be in Korea, but you’d be welcome. I promise.”

You just stare at him dumbly, unable to process this information. Therapy? You’d been given so many pamphlets on loss that it made your head spin. The only thing that thoughts of therapy has done for you in the past week has brought up terrible associations.

“Please. Take it.”

His eyes are pleading. You can’t bear to see the desperation any longer. Breaking away from his heavy gaze, you take the scrap of paper. With one last thank you, you get in your sedan, throw the dry cleaning into the passenger seat, and lock the doors. 

With your head in your hands, you start to cry again. Why do you have to be so mean? Thinking of the man, you turn to look in the rear-view mirror with a gentle hope that he’s still behind your car. You don’t know why you’re disappointed when he isn’t.

Thursday is tomorrow. You can make it until then.

[chipsfics]

Part 5: Basement

Part 5 is here!!

rated: PG (for injury and swearing)

~~~~

A few weeks later, Tissues and Yinyang had fallen into a sort of rhythm. Get up, get breakfast, sit in the front room and play video games- they still seemed closer than ever, although they weren't making any progress getting better at playing the games. Sometimes the ruckus from Yinyang's rage (mostly Yang's) would annoy the other residents at the hotel. Other than that, things had fallen into a nice, consistent normal. Boring, but normal. Mostly.

It was something small, but... Every odd night, if any thoughts at all, Tissues was thinking about that tiny door they'd found under the wallpaper. What else could the hotel be hiding? Between twisting orange hallways, leaky ceilings and peeling wallpaper- The hotel already seemed like the perfect place to house mysteries. That, or cockroaches. It was the first time in a long time that Tissues had something to think about, to worry about, to wonder about. Most of the time he was just concerned with surviving, any way he can, and keeping himself entertained cooped up while Inanimate Insanity draws closer to curtains. 

It was a bright pink evening, the sunset dazzling and painting the hotel's dusty windows like a canvas. A couple contestants were outside watching the sun go down, but Tissues was in bed, staring at the humming ceiling fan, as he often found himself doing. Around 7pm, if he had the mind and strength to be tossing and turning he would have been. That secret door was there all along, he'd probably walked past it a few times- What other secrets lie hiding, impossibly old, right under his nose, right under his feet? It made him shiver. He wondered if Yinyang thought about it as much as he did, or even at all.

Since their discovery, of course, everyone else in the hotel noticed the door too. The general consensus seemed to be "Huh, weird." OJ seemed a bit upset (mostly confused), but didn't feel like figuring out how to re-wallpaper the peeled area. And of course, nobody had figured out it was them who had uncovered it, or that it had previously housed those mysterious magazines. Tissues sighed, willing himself up into a sitting position and fetching his tattered old journal from his side table's drawer. Once he flipped to the first blank page, a thought hit Tissues sudden as a train and heavy as a bag of bricks.

"Does the hotel have a basement?" 

Tissues, his heart momentarily racing, grabbed his worn out ballpoint pen sitting askew on his bedside table, and quickly scribbled his chickenscratch between the snot-splotched lined paper of the cheap notebook, neglecting to write the date and filling up the page with his large, rough handwriting. 

"DEAR DIARY:" (he wrote in all-caps) "DOES THE HOTEL HAVE A BASEMENT?" (this is when he stopped for a moment, furrowed his brow and chewed on the pen's lid-) "IF SO, WHAT IS IT HIDING..? I KNOW THAT THE ELEVATOR DOESNT GO BELOW F1 BUT IVE NEVER TAKEN THE STAIRS AND THEY MIGHT GO DEEPER. I MIGHT INVITE YY TO CHECK IT OUT WITH ME." (YY is shorthand for Yinyang.) "ON SECOND THOUGHT, NO THEY PROBABLY ARENT INTERESTED IN IT. THE LAST THING I WANT IS TO BE ANY MORE ANNOYING THEN I ALREADY AM." (Tissues scoffed, and put his journal back into the cupboard.) Tissues flopped back down onto his bed and stared at the same old ceiling fan. A small black bug crawled across the lightbulb. Tissues sniffed. The wall clock tick-tocked until it hit 7:23pm. Frenzied thoughts bubbled inside Tissues' mind until they felt like they were going to boil over and out his ears. 

Once he reached for his water bottle and noticed his hand shaking slightly- He decided that tonight was the night. A determined but nervous feeling swept over his body as he huffed and forced himself out of bed and out the door- To the staircase. It was a plain, short walk down, carpeted stairs with nothing to trip or slip on- A short safe staircase. He gulped. Did he trust himself enough to make it down even these easy stairs? 

The dizzy, nervous feeling that made his stomach plunge the two story drop before he did wasn't helping much- He grabbed onto the handrail with a white-knuckle grip. He took a slow step downward, and his head spun- The staircase beneath him seemed to sprawl out into endless darkness. He wasn't about to give up, though. He shook himself off and continued walking down the stairs one step at a time, two steps per stair- Step, step. Step, step. He was making progress! Step, step. Step, step. Once he made it halfway down, he stopped to catch his breath, and.... Oh no. Sniff, Sniff.... He felt a sneeze coming on. Ah... Ah.....

ACHOO! 

Tissues stumbled back and attempted to hang onto the handrail- he tripped over the side and fell, for what seemed like ages, down, down, down, and rolled banging into every odd step on the way down.

"Oof.... Ughh....." Tissues forced himself up, bruised and tattered from his fall, and found himself on cold concrete. Had he ever been on this floor...? It took him a moment to readjust, but as he looked around, rubbing his sore head, he realized that F1 didn't have any concrete. This must be it. The basement.

~~~~

It was dusty and completely dark- cold with a chill that seemed almost too appropriate for such a spooky place. Tissues rummaged around inside his head to pull out his phone and flashed the light into the deep darkness- It cut through the inky blackness like a beacon. Tissues shone it around the room slowly and nervously- illuminating large shapes draped in old white sheets of fabric. Tissues' heart raced before he realized it was probably just furniture with a dust covering- Yeah, just furniture. He sighed. He crept into the strange and cavernous room- His small footsteps echoing through the basement, reverberating clear and crisp as the dark, cold air. He shivered. 

He more he looked around, the weirder the basement got. Cloth-draped chairs and couches and even what appeared to be a small TV set or strangely-shaped table seemed to be arranged as if whoever was using this room just... up and left. It looked like a living room for ghosts. The furniture itself also seemed to be localized around the middle of the room- The rest of the room seemed strangely vacant except for a few stray cardboard boxes stacked on one another.

"The basement can't just be this room, can it? It's an entire floor, is the rest just filled in? It can't be. There's got to be more," Tissues thought, circumventing the room once again, looking for a door, a bricked-off passageway, something that he could use to explore the rest of this strange place. It seemed, after a few minutes of looking around, to be a concrete prison. 

Tmp. Tmp. Tmp.

Tissues froze. 

Tmp. Tmp. Tmp.

Footsteps. Getting closer. echoing down the staircase, heartbeat racing, no way out but up. Between fight or flight, Tissues chose freeze. He stood like a deer in the headlights, holding his flashlight at the entrance, his hand shaking like a paint mixer. 

Tmp. Tmp. Tmp.

Closer, closer, down the stairs, Tissues had no idea why he was so afraid- It was probably just another resident at the hotel. If it was OJ, he might've gotten in trouble, but some strange part of him felt like he was an intruder. Like whoever is coming down the stairs right now was following after him for a reason. As the shadow came into view, in a moment of pure adrenaline, Tissues flung his cell phone at whoever it was that was following him. It hit them straight in the forehead.

"Ow, what the hell?!"

Relief washed over Tissues as he immediately recognized the voice.

"Y.....Yinyang?" Tissues said timidly.

As the familiar face came into view, rubbing his forehead, picking up the cell phone that had gone skidding across the concrete floor moments before. 

"Of course you dumbass, who else?" Yinyang said, shining the flashlight at the bewildered, blinking Tissues. "What are you doing down here? Are you ok?"

"Umm oh. Ohhhh... You-" Tissues stuttered, blushing. "You came down here to check on me?"

"The hell do you mean?" Yang growled, "Of course I did!" Yin continued, walking up to Tissues and inspecting him closer. "You fell down 2 flights of stairs! Are you injured?"

From the sheer adrenaline of the situation, Tissues didn't seem to notice, but his knee was scraped pretty badly. "Ah... Yeah. A lil bit. My knee," He said, gesturing to his left leg. 

"You dumbass!" Yang cursed. "Why did you- Why did you try and go down the stairs alone in the first place? You know-" Yang sighed. "Why are you even in the basement? There's nothing in here but old storage space," 

Tissues sniffed. "Umm... well... ahh... umm..." Tissues seemed to be getting a little bit choked up. "Umm... y'know how we found the old- the little door? After we..." Tissues took a deep, shaky breath. "I wanted to see if the hotel had any more secrets like that. Yknow... cause, I have so much time to think, and it was just bothering me... I thought- It can't be just that, there's got to be more- I guess i just wasn't thinking." Tissues wiped his nose.

"Oh, Tissues..." Yinyang said, his voice soft. "We should go back upstairs. I'll get you patched up," Yinyang continued, patting him on the head gently. “I was worried about you!

"You're probably right..." Tissues sighed, and limped to the doorway, Yinyang letting him lean on his shoulder. On his way out, he leaned against the wall, and his fingers came into contact with something smooth and cool, completely different from the texture of the concrete walls. He froze.

"Wait-" He said. "I feel something." He continued, trailing his hand farther up and feeling something akin to a lightswitch. He flicked it on, and the basement was instantly illuminated- causing Yinyang and Tissues to squint and turn around.

"Huh. I found the lightswitch!" Tissues laughed, and scanning the room in the light, it didn't look as scary as before- and one thought was present in his mind. 

"Hey, this could make a really cool hangout spot if you just fixed it up a little bit." 

It was like another lightbulb came on dinging bright above Tissues' head.

As Yinyang worriedly ushered him back up the stairs and into his room, Tissues was busy smiling, ideas silently buzzing in his head as Yinyang cursed him out while tenderly wrapping blue bandages around his knee. 

The moment he left, Tissues pulled out his journal and hurriedly wrote something in big, messy lettering:

"BASEMENT SUITE...?"

~~~~

[ellewritesathing]

Faking It  -  II

Summary: You’d done plenty of dumb things in your life, but the dumbest had to be picking Greendale’s latest bad-boy to pretend to be your boyfriend.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 2

Word-count: 2.6k+

A/N: can you guys believe there’s not an angsty air hockey gif on here? but seriously thank you for all the support for Part 1!! 

Tugging on your fourth outfit of the night, you reminded yourself that you’d been on dates before this - not dates with someone like Caliban, sure, but dates - which meant that you had no reason to be this nervous. This was just a date. Except that it wasn’t. This wasn’t just any date with any guy. It was fake, for starters, and it was with Caliban; dangerous Caliban that Billy was afraid of and Harvey hated. 

And Harvey didn’t hate anyone - it got in the way of his job as a golden retriever. 

But it was easy to see why Harvey hated him as you watched Caliban pull into the driveway in the most expensive-looking black BMW you’d ever seen. You hated him in that car. It had to be a racing car, one that Caliban had had a while and was familiar with judging by how easily he interacted with it. Maybe he was just easy with everything. Either way, he was walking up to your front door and you didn’t have time to dwell on it if you wanted to get to him before your parents did. 

“Okay, see you guys later!” you yelled out as you raced down the stairs, almost crashing through the door and into Caliban in your rush. Steady hands reached out to catch you before you could fall. “Hey, Abercrombie, you clean up nice,” you said with a smile. “Let’s get out of here.” 

“Ohhh, no you don’t,” your mom said as she rounded the corner and leaned against the doorframe. “I need a name and a plan.” 

Reluctantly, you let go of Caliban and turned to face your mom. In your most controlled and not-at-all-embarrassed voice, you said, “Mom, this Caliban. He’s Harvey’s cousin I told you about, remember?” 

“Huh.” Your mom tilted her head to the side as she looked at him. You couldn’t tell if it was the hair or the leather jacket that made her suspicious. “I don’t remember you ever visiting when you were kids.” 

“My mother left the family for California about eighteen years ago to get an abortion,” Caliban said. He was surprisingly non-confrontational as he spoke to her, considering the fact that he almost decked Billy within five seconds of seeing him - he was even smiling. “Nine months later and there I was: snot-faced and crying.” 

“And now the prodigal son returns,” your mom hummed. She seemed to have softened as Caliban spoke, but now she narrowed her eyes. “Be back by ten.” 

“Eleven,” you said, jutting out your chin slightly to come across a bit tougher. 

“I don’t think you understand how this works,” your mom said, feigning offense as she turned her eyes back on you. 

Before you had the chance to respond, Caliban’s hand slipped past your arm and hung in the air between you and your mom. An offering, sweet but ill-advised. “Ten it is,” he said. 

Your mom’s mouth quirked at the gesture but she shook his hand regardless. It looked like she squeezed it a bit tighter as she said, “Don’t get in too much trouble.” 

“If we do, we’ll call his mom,” you said, putting your hand back on Caliban’s arm and lightly pushing him down the porch steps. He seemed amused as he opened your car door, but he didn’t say anything, a fact that unnerved you as he buckled his seatbelt. “So where are we going?” 

“I thought we could go to the arcade and I could win you over with my stellar air hockey skills,” Caliban said, giving you a devious smile as his hand slid up to the ignition. The car roared to life under his fingertips as he finished speaking. “What do you think?” 

“I think I’m gonna kick your ass with my far superior air hockey skills,” you said, moving in your seat to appear nonchalant. “But I could be persuaded to go easy on you if you add food to this grand plan.” 

“Food is a given,” Caliban said, eyes focused on the road ahead. “But you should know-” his eyes flicked to the rearview mirror “-I’m not above cheating to get a win.” 

The airiness of his voice made your heart race, as did all the possibilities of how this night would go that flashed through your head. You were too preoccupied thinking about how this was probably the most attractive bad decision you’d ever made to hold a conversation, and Caliban was too preoccupied being an attractive bad decision to make small talk. 

As he drove, the street lights lit up his face and made you think of all the ways you’d capture this moment on canvas. Caliban’s soft curls contrasting with the hard lines of his bone structure, the shifting light drawing attention down to his lips. The same lips that were curling into a smile because his pretty blue eyes had caught you staring in their peripheral vision. 

Thank god he didn’t say anything. 

All Caliban did was merge into the fast lane and kick up the speed a few notches, but you did your best not to look at how his hand curled around the gearshift. Instead, you sighed dramatically and looked out the window. This view wasn’t as pretty as the pearly white grin he shot at you after catching you out. 

Caliban pulled into the arcade parking lot after about ten more minutes of you trying to slow your heart rate down. He was infuriatingly quiet as he shut the car off. How were you supposed to know where to go from here if he wouldn’t give you a hint? 

“So, you’re a real speed demon, huh?” you asked as you unbuckled and turned to him. 

He laughed as he unbuckled and shook his head. “I’ve been called worse. Do you want food first or are you ready to be completely and utterly destroyed in a game of air hockey?” 

“I’ll take my victory dinner afterwards, thank you very much.” 

As he got out of the car, you could have sworn you saw Caliban roll his eyes at your joke, but you didn’t mention it. Just like you didn’t mention the ten thousand thoughts that raced through your head when he held out a hand to help you out of the car. ‘To keep up appearances’ was his reasoning, and because ‘he’s not a total asshole.’

Your heart started racing the second you walked into the arcade, but you told yourself that was just because of the adrenaline getting you ready to win. Caliban started you off at one of the basketball games, effortlessly and annoying sinking every single ball through the net. Almost all of yours bounced off the rim.

Caliban laughed when you got frustrated and threw the ball so hard that it bounced against the back of the game and you had to jump out of its way to avoid being hit, bumping into him in the process. 

“Here, will you allow me to show you how to do it without injuring yourself?” Caliban asked, hands still holding onto you from when he’d caught you moments before. 

“So you can put your arms around me and get my heart racing like some teenage cliche?” you asked. 

His head tilted to the side as he pretended to think about it. “I make your heart race?” 

You felt your fingers starting to tingle so you untangled yourself before you started blushing. You picked up another basketball. “Are you going to show me how to do this or not?” 

“If the lady insists,” Caliban said politely with a smile that was anything but polite. 

He stepped behind you and put his hands over yours around the ball. He leaned down so he could speak directly into your ear instead of battling it out with the noise of the arcade. But that didn’t mean you heard a word he said as he moved the ball around in your hands and showed you how to position yourself to shoot your shot. 

“Ready?” 

“Totally,” you lied. 

Against all odds, your ball got nothing but net. You started jumping around to celebrate but you almost wished it had bailed so Caliban would keep holding your hand. 

After exhausting all the fun you could from the basketball game, you moved onto skeeball, guitar hero, and the racing games. Caliban was a pro at the racing ones, even if he looked way too tall for the pretend bikes, but you dominated at guitar hero and skeeball. He even managed to get you into one of those haunted house games that you hated with that silver tongue of his. 

And then came the moment you’d all been waiting for: The air hockey showdown. 

Caliban had the height and speed advantage, but you had one thing he didn’t: pure spite. Thanks to your spiteful secret weapon, you won the first round. Caliban won the next two, but he was too cocky and easily distracted by your jokes. You won that round (‘by default’) and now the two of you were all tied up. 

You weren’t going to sugarcoat it: This was intense. You didn’t want to lose and you couldn’t afford to be distracted by how attractive Caliban looked when he was trying to concentrate. The puck hit the side of the table and you leaned over to hit it back to Caliban’s side when someone made a pass at you. 

“Hey, what do you think you’re-” 

No matter how fast you thought you’d reacted to unwanted advance, it was nothing compared to how quickly Caliban reacted. One second it was you yelling at some jerk you’d never seen before, and the next it was Caliban throwing the jerk up against the nearest wall. He had a white-knuckle grip on the offender’s t-shirt with his forearm pressing into his throat. 

You weren’t sure who was more in shock - you, the jerk, or his friends - but you shot forward when it looked like Caliban was getting ready to punch him. 

“Woah, woah, woah!” You wrapped your hands around Caliban’s balled-up fist and pulled it down. “Abercrombie, calm down. You can’t hit him.” 

“And why shouldn’t I?” Caliban asked, pushing down even more with his forearm. “This little cretin-” 

“Because if you hit him, we’ll be thrown out of here and then we’ll never know who’s better at air hockey,” you blurted out. It was the only thing you could think of in the moment as you held onto his hand with your heart beating out of your chest, but it must have done the trick because Caliban loosened his grip slightly and the guy started squirming.

“Your boyfriend’s fucking insane-”

Caliban let out a low chuckle and let go of the guy’s shirt, moving his arm off his windpipe in the process. He dusted off the guy’s shirt. “You should thank the lady,” he said, leaning in a bit closer when he was satisfied with the state of the t-shirt. “She’s the only reason you’ve still got any teeth.” 

“I’m not thanking that b-”

“Okay!” You pulled Caliban back a few steps. “Come on, let’s just get out of here, okay?” 

“Yeah, just run away with your little girlfriend,” the guy sneered when he was surrounded by his friends again. He looked very sure that he had the upper hand when you stood between him and Caliban. 

You let go of Caliban’s hand and stepped forward. “You know what?” 

“What do I know, baby?” 

“You’re a slow learner.” 

He was still busy talking when you hit him so hard that you were pretty sure something in your hand was broken. It was hard to focus on the pain when Caliban was laughing and wrapping his arms around you to drag you out of the arcade and away from the jerk with a split lip. 

Your hand was throbbing by the time you got back to the car and Caliban sat you on top of the hood. Stopping your tirade of curses about that fucking prick only to swear when Caliban touched your hand, you realized that maybe you were overreacting. 

“How badly does it hurt?” Caliban asked softly as he uncurled your fingers, holding your hand gently. 

Your knuckles had gotten caught on his teeth and some of the skin was torn, nothing too gnarly looking just a bit scraped up. There would probably be a lovely bruise there in a few hours, but right now it was just stinging from bad form and inexperience. 

“It’s not that bad.” You tried to keep your voice casual as you opened and closed your hand. The worst of it was the skin between your pinky and ring finger, but the blood was minimal compared to what you’d come to expect from movies and comic books. “Just stings a little.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a better liar than you are a fighter?” Caliban asked, looking up from your hand to meet your gaze. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you suck at air hockey?” 

Caliban smiled but he didn’t engage with your attempt to feel better about yourself. “What do you say we get that slice of pizza, killer?” 

The drive to the diner was quiet, but it was an easier quiet than the one before. Logically, you knew this was a bad idea - dating a guy who can go from adorably competitive one moment to knocking out someone’s teeth the next was always going to be a bad idea - but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it for the hour or so you had left. You’d start thinking logically in the morning.

The two of you settled across from one another in a booth and minutes later you were sipping on your victory milkshake and munching on some fries. Caliban had a devil’s chocolate shake and hardly touched his burger. 

“So does Harvey hate you because you threatened to punch out his teeth?” you asked, trying to sound casual. 

“It really bothers you that my cousin doesn’t like me, doesn’t it?” Caliban asked. 

As a liar yourself, you could spot his deflection a mile away. You shrugged and waited for him to answer your question before saying anything else.

“Harvey’s family came to visit my mother and me one year,” Caliban said with a sigh. “Everything was going smoothly until his father implied that my mother was a whore. I’ve never had the best temperament, and eleven was a difficult year for me. Long story short, their car was smashed to bits by a baseball bat and mine was buried in the backyard, splintered and broken.”

It wasn’t that hard to believe; you loved Harvey but his dad was a real piece of work. Still, something didn’t sit right. 

“That’s all?” you asked. 

“Harvey had a, uh, one-sided summer fling when they visited,” Caliban said. “Lucinda didn’t feel the same way about him and tried to kiss me. Harvey caught the wrong end of it and hit me, not unlike how you hit our new friend moments ago.” 

“You kissed his first crush?” you asked, pulling a face. 

“She kissed me.” 

“Still, kind of a dick move, Abercrombie.” 

“I’m starting to see why he likes you so much,” Caliban said as he pushed his empty glass to the side. “Are you having second thoughts about our pretend relationship?” 

“I’m still thinking it over,” you admitted. 

“Let me know when you decide.” 

You let out a laugh and twirled your straw around in your milkshake, ignoring the pain in your hand as you did. Like that was a decision you’d be making any time soon. But maybe you didn’t have to. Maybe an epiphany would just hit you in the mouth like a pissed off teenager.

Part 3

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