#now i have my boys in a soft squishable form

[slytherinshua]

MY FAVOURITE

genre. fluff. hurt/comfort. warnings. jaehyun had a stressful day and cries a bit. pairing. jaehyun x fem!reader. wc. 857. request. requested by 🐧 anon: thoughts about jaehyun returning home to y/n after a stressful day and switching from leader mode to baby mode a/n. jaehyun being a crybaby is just so :( like i love him i adore him as a cry baby myself 🥹 like idk i just cry over everything any slightly stressful situation will have the tears forming its not even funny >:( jaehyun looks so squishable and tiny when he cries like 😭😭😭 he needs to be protected from the world.

“No. I told you we needed another 2 days for choreography lessons. The boys will be stressed if they have to learn it all by tomorrow. There’s still so many details we need to review.” Your boyfriend had barely walked through the door before he got a call from his manager and started talking. He sounded extremely stressed— not something you were usually used to from soft clingy Jaehyun you had around most days.

Whether it was charismatic performances on stage or detailed plans and decision-making offstage, your boyfriend excelled in both areas. But it was tiring. He could switch on and off as quickly and easily as he needed to, which was extremely helpful in keeping his stress at a low. Relaxing and recharging was just as important as working, and he knew that he needed a balance to keep going.

Today had been long and heavy on the work non-stop part of his life that Jaehyun both loved and hated. It was all worth it— always— but some days he really wished he didn’t have to leave so early in the morning and come home so late at night. Some days he wished he could just cuddle with you until he actually wanted to get up and that he was able to get back to you in time for dinner. 

It was much past dinner time by now, already nearing midnight. Though your boyfriend’s voice sounded just like usual, professional, bright, and confident, you could tell with one glance at his face that he was so so tired. Eye bags and furrowed eyebrows framed his face, and he ran a stressed hand through his black hair, letting it stay and grip at the strands a bit too long for your liking.

The phone call ended quickly, thankfully. Jaehyun turned to you and you could just see him soften and relax completely. You closed the distance between you two so he didn’t have to, knowing your boyfriend and his love for hugs. He sunk into the hug immediately, holding you so so tightly. You frowned at how he was barely supporting his own body weight, so exhausted that he physically couldn’t do much other than cling to you.

You wanted to move to the couch in case he ended up toppling you both over with any extra weight he put in the hug. But you couldn’t do it without breaking the hug and Jaehyun looked like he would cry if that happened.

Not that he hadn’t started crying a little already. You could feel his body rack silently as he tugged at the back of your sweater, breathing in the scent of your shampoo with each uneven breath. You rubbed his back slowly up and down, soothingly waiting until he had calmed down enough to get ready for bed.

“It’s okay, let it all out, baby. I know it was an exhausting day. But you know I’m proud of you, right?” You murmured, pressing little kisses to his temple as you spoke. He started crying a little harder at your words, but you didn’t mind at all. You were glad you were someone he trusted enough to be completely vulnerable with. He didn’t hold back his tears, sobbing into your shoulder until the tears slowly stopped. You pulled back once you felt that he could hold himself up again with a clearer head.

“Not even the sky can be sunny all the time.” You smiled at his precious face, reaching out to swipe a thumb on his cheek to wipe away the tear stains. His nose was red and a little runny, and his eyes were a bit swollen. He looked so precious and small, and your heart broke just seeing him cry. 

After a few more hugs and a couple of kisses for motivation, you got him to shower and get into his pyjamas to cuddle up with you and finally sleep. Jaehyun loved to be the little spoon more than anything, all wrapped up close to you, feeling so comfortable and secure like nothing could ever touch him. You played with his hair and pressed continuous kisses to his face— you loved to spoil your baby with as much affection as he deserved, and he loved to receive it after a long day.

“It’s my favourite thing…” He mumbled quietly, snuggling closer into your chest.

“What is?” You traced a finger around his nose and cheekbone, pressing a kiss to the spot right after.

“This. And you. You’re my favourite.” He replied, smiling a little, about half asleep already.

“Really?” You smiled fondly at him as he nodded. “I’m honoured to be your favourite. You’re my favourite too.” 

“Really…?” He was so sleepy, and his words came out whispered, but you found it all the more endearing.

“Yes, really.”

With the last bit of energy Jaehyun had before sleep caught hold of him, he reached for your hand that was playing with his hair and brought it down to his lips, pressing a feather-light kiss to your fingers. Before you could respond or return the favour, he was already sound asleep in your hold.

↳ boynextdoor taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @eternalgyu,, @metalchick529,,

@schmocolateschmchip,, @kpoprhia,, @candewlsy,, @weird-bookworm,, @cyberpunksunwoo,,

@kangtaehyunzzz,, @snowflakemoon3,, @lovialy,, @lecheugo,, @okshu,,

@wccycc,, @seunghancore

[realcube]

WRATH & LUST . t.kei / y.tadashi

synopsis ✧ you hate tsukishima kei. you do everything in your power to make his life miserable but nothing works. now you have no choice but to fuck his best friend

cws/tags ✧ college au , enemies to enemies who screw, cursing, fob, smut, vaginal, oral (recieving) & praise — minors dni

parts ✧ i. ii. iii. iv.

maybe you were overexaggerating a bit when you said that yamaguchi is always with tsukishima, because there are a couple times a week when you know they'll be apart.

your friend is a part of the college's newspaper club, and she mentioned that yamaguchi is a member too, but tsukishima isn't. this gave you the perfect opportunity to the catch him alone and prey on his weakest form.

you saunter up to the news room, and catch yamaguchi waiting outside. they don't usually enter until your friend, the chief editor, arrives. "excuse me?"

your voice is soft and inviting, hence yamaguchi is stunned when he turns to see you. his guard is up, but unlike tsukishima, he doesn't immediately resort to aggression, "yes?" he replies quietly.

"is this the newspaper society?" you ask innocently, tilting your head with a smile.

yamaguchi is unsure as to why you are being so mellow towards him, considering your history, but as he chokes back a gulp, he figures that maybe your negative sentiments are purely towards tsukishima and up until now he has just been caught in the crossfire.

"yes, this is. i'm waiting for the editor to get here."

"oh, hana?" your lips are parts slightly, as he nods, "she is my friend. i'm sure she won't mind if we just go in."

"are you sure?" his questions is basically answered as he watches you enter the news room. he hesitantly follows behind, thinking he can shift the blame onto you if the chief editor is upset.

"so, are you a member? i've never seen you here before." he asks while fidgeting with his hands, taking a seat in his usual spot.

"no, not yet. i want to join though which is why i'm here." you sit near yamaguchi, on the table, "but i hear you're full. could you put in a good word for me, tadashi?"

you giggle. bafflement and wary burn at his face, dusting his cheeks a slight pink, "if you're friends with hana then i'm sure you don't need me to talk you up to her."

"well, yeah, but she's reluctant to let me join because, in her words, i can be 'volatile and confrontational'." you muse, legs swinging lightly as you turn to look at yamaguchi with a knowing smirk, "i'm so not, though. you can vouch for me, right?"

yamaguchi blinks, then responds, "yeah. you're the most docile person i know."

you find it cute that he plays along with your jokes. plus, now that you're actually taking a good look at him, you realise he has such a sweet, squishable face. how does the sweetest boy ever end up in the company of lucifer incarnate?

"i wouldn't say docile. that's too far-fetched." you tease.

"mild?"

"eh."

"poise?"

"i like that one but still no."

"composed?"

"that could work!" you cheer, displaying the palm of your hand he insantly reciprocates with a high-five. just as your shared laughter begins to die down, hana and a couple other members of the newspaper society enter the room.

you spend the rest of the hour in the back of the room, working on an article with yamaguchi. your friend knew about your plan, and she didn't mind you utilising her society to achieve your end goal, but you'd hate to impede on her work flow for too long so you pulled out all the stops to ensure you gain tadashi's favour as quickly as possible.

and it worked like a charm. despite never having communicated directly with each other before, you chatted throughout the whole hour like you were lifelong best friends. there was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you — the sweet and sour.

plus, you both have a lot more in common than you may have initially thought. your music tastes are very similar, surprisingly, and you like the same movies/shows. he shows you a couple of his playlists and you do the same, discussing the concerts you've been to and what merchandise you have.

you learned that he is studying to be an electronic engineer while tsukishima is studying history, but he chose maths electives just so they could be in a couple of classes together. they also used to do volleyball together in highschool and are both apart of the volleyball society in college.

so corny and so cheesy but coming from the mouth of yamaguchi, it was the sweetest, most moving story of friendship you've ever heard.

even when meeting ended, you both still walked together out of the building, blathering away about anything and everything, it comes to an abrupt holt when you reach the building's exit.

perplexed, yamaguchi asks, "which way are you going? if you want, i could walk you to your bus stop?"

you smile awkwardly, pretending to be sheepish about the proposition despite it being exactly what you anticipated, "i would love that. but i don't think tsukishima would be too delighted to see us together."

yamaguchi frowns at the reminder but nods.

"but," you continue, pulling a pen and scrap piece of paper from your bag and hurriedly jotting something down, "you can ring me if you ever want to talk. or anything else." you hand it to him with a wink and yamaguchi's throat dies up at your suggestion, he is barely able to croak out an 'okay'.

"see you later!" you skip off and yamaguchi is left speechless behind.

ೃ⁀➷

you had warmed up to each other very quickly. texting each other videos, emojis and pictures every other minute. didn't even take two days before you both had a shared playlist. you were up until ungodly hours of the night facetiming each other.

it was so frequent, yamaguchi had to change your contact information to a fake name because he was getting tired of constantly having to hide his phone from tsukishima, since there was bound to be a notification from you on his screen.

"are you gonna buy tickets tonight???" "noooo don't remind me tadashi" "what's the matter ???😧" "wi-fi sucks at my houseee. i never get concert tickets on time. always end up paying resale prices 😤" "you can come to mine if you want! my wifi is good"

you took him up on his offer. you went over to his dorm at 10PM, since tickets when on sale at 11PM in your time zone. (darn international artists!)

it was a blood-bath but by the grace of god you both successfully secured two tickets to see your favourite artist performing live, with seats very close to the stage!

so of course you had to celebrate somehow.

shaky breathes escaped his lips, soft moans intertwined. his shirt had come off, exposing his tan skin to the hot atmosphere of his bedroom. hypnotised by the way your tight cunt sucked needily on his cock, dripping cum all over his bare shaft.

his gaze was only freed from your sex when he was nearing his climax and a sudden bolt of ecstasy wracked through him, causing his eyes to roll back, "so tight, (y/n)." he grunted, grabbing your ass and squeezing it.

he had you sprawled out over his bed face down, while he stood by the edge and fucked you from behind. he gave you a pillow to rest your cute head on so your neck wouldn't hurt, and he held your legs by his sides while he ploughed into you. four years of volleyball practise has its uses.

his pace is relentless but rhythmic; at first he fucked you leisurely, allowing you to appreciate every inch of him as he'd pull out of you excruciatingly slowly, then ease himself back in until his achy tip prodded your cervix. he wasn't doing it to torment you though, just to give you some time to grow accustomed to his length.

it was better that way; your desperate pussy welcomed him instead of trying to force him out. in fact, it clung to him so tightly it was challenging for him to pull out of you, somehow he managed.

as he approached his orgasm, his thrusts became hurried and sloppy, raring to spill inside your sopping pussy. but ever the altruist, he slips his fingers between your legs to press and rub at your clit fervently, "close, baby?"

his cock splits in you half, and your pussy throbs around him. the power with which he rams into you has made you hazy, drooling mess, only able to weakly buck your hips in reciprocation to his thrusts. you try to whine a meek 'yes' but your face is buried in the pillow, thus yamaguchi only hears an unclear, muffled noise.

he furrows his brows and moves his hands up to your waist, "'m gonna flip you over, yeah?" he pants, still fucking you as he talks, "wanna see that pretty face." in a surge of strength and energy, he pulls you off the bed and flips you onto your back, offering you a gentle smile when you lock eyes.

you weakly smile back, about the only autonomy you could exhibit while his cock continued to pound into you, moulding your walls around him. you were losing control of yourself with each thrust; clinging to the sheets and allow a string of lewd moans and profanities spill from your mouth. somewhere in the mix there was his name.

"tadashi.."

your eyes were closed, and your melodious voice called out for him to save you, like he wasn't tucked inside you. hearing you say his name like that — so filthy and obscene — delighted him in ways he didn't know were possible and only urged him closer to his climax. "(y/n), say that again, please."

the wet slapping noises he made against your cunt grew louder; it was a miracle you could still hear his pastel voice. being railed into the plush sheets of his bed, your mind and body were in two different realms, so when you tried to utter his name once more, all that came out was a series of moans and gasps.

"c'mon, (y/n)." he pled, gripping onto your hips like you are his life force, "i need you. be a good girl for me, please."

he punctuated each word with a harsh thrust, brushing your cervix each time and it didn't take much else for you to come crash down around him. spasming and twitching on his dick, your scream echoing through the room while he fucked you through it. your throbbing pussy still being used for his pleasure.

even when you were nearing completion, your pussy still fluttered around him and you squealed, "tadashi!" as the world became hazy and blurred around you.

which was enough to send him hurdling over the edge too. his teeth are gritted together and his hands tense on your waist when he cums inside you. his thrusts waver for only a moment before he temporarily resumes, this time with less vigour and with the sole purpose of milking himself dry inside you.

once he could feel his hot cum packed safely within your walls, he was finally able to gasp for air. he doesn't want to pull out, he's comfortable as he is, but the curious part of him wants to see how his load looks inside you.

he pulls out, only to kneel and examine your glistening hole. too fucked out and sore, you lay on the bed and try to catch your breath, allowing him to push your legs wide open without protest.

"so pretty." he mused, watch as a bit of his cum dribbles out of your pussy and onto your ass. not to worry though, as he uses his two fingers to guide it back inside you. idly, he pushes his fingers inside you and revels at how tight you still are.

"you're perfect." without thinking about it, he curls his fingers inside, then delicately drags them in and out, wrenching a feeble whine from your throat. "do you know how perfect you are?"

he pressed a loving kiss against your clit before poking his head up from between your legs to look at you. "mm" is all you respond with. he chuckles, "that's not a yes or no, baby."

he doesn't dwell on it too long. he'll stop bothering you now by trying to get you to respond to him; you're probably still recovering from your intense orgasm. yamaguchi goes back to admiring your hole, captivated by how his cum has filled you up, and whenever it tries to escape but it is prevented from doing so by his fingers.

"you look so beautiful like this. i wanna burn this image into my brain so i can keep it forever." he kisses your pussy again, french this time. his lips move graciously against your folds and his tongue plunges inside you. you taste so good, so intoxicating, he moans into your skin, the vibrations causing you to gasp. he continues to suck and lick inside your puckered hole, until he gets a taste of himself on his tongue, which causes him to falter and slowly pull away.

"i've never had sex with a girl on the pill before. but this was just.." he can't seem to find the word he's looking for. perhaps it doesn't exist. "amazing. well, that doesn't even cover half of it." he grins foolishly, caressing the inside of your thigh and still gazing at your hole.

"yeah." after lying motionless for a while, you seem to have finally come back down to earth and can form full sentences again. "amitriptyline is great, isn't it?"

"uhuh.." he muses, thinking about how gorgeous you look until what you said finally registers in head and he springs to his feet, "what!?"

[aakariiiii]

Im here ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

smahwj idk if i like this but here goes nothing!!

mitsuya x reader

warning: mentions of needles? reader will be getting an injection…uh? thats it i think. ejejs im so bad at this!!

enjoy reading <3 (although its not that good >:()

____________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“I really can’t believe that you, someone who can wipe the ass of 10 men all in one go, are scared of being poked. With a tiny little needle.” Mitsuya drearily lets a sigh escape his mouth.

You were sitting on a chair in the hospital, busy inspecting how your hand perfectly fits his rough yet contradictorily gentle hand, and how the way he vigilantly wraps his hand around yours makes your organs rupture stars and planets.

“But that’s different, Taka. Needles are just sharp and terrifying. We didn’t have to come, y’know, and my mom wouldn’t know.”

“No, I need to get on my future mother-in-law’s good side, unless you don’t want me in your future, that is.”

“You’re such a momma’s boy, aren’t you.”A grin creeped up your lips, making Mitsuya groan.

“Let go of my hand then, or I will” He threatened.

“No I will ne—”

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” a nurse interrupted, causing a chuckle to dance it’s way out of mitsuya’s plump lips.

“There goes nothing..” a mutter came out of Mitsuya.

“Okay, I’m guessing you’ve experienced how an injection feels..right?”

“Well…..maybe about….14 years ago?”

“Oh..” The nurse deadpanned.

“Okay that’s fine, it won’t hurt. You’ll just feel a poke, but it won’t hurt.”

“Bu-“

“Shhh just close your eyes. I promise you, you wont feel it, you can squeeze my hand too.”

“What i—”

Before you can even complete, your eyes involuntarily flew shut as Mitsuya’s hand covered your eyes, it’s warmth radiating, making your skin immediately melt at his sweet, sweet touch.

“This makes it worse, Taka. I need to see what’s happening.” your voice cracked in panic as anxiety scurried hurriedly in your blood.

“It wont hu—” the nurse attempted to comfort you but Mitsuya beat her to it.

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” He grabs your chin and levels down so that your eyes can directly gawk at his painfully calming eyes, full of dreams and tranquility.

He continued, “You see my hand? it’s here, wrapped around yours. My eyes? they’re staring at your beautiful ones. You can squeeze the life out of my hand, and stare at my eyes till the colour fades away from them. Trust me, it won’t hurt. I’m here, and you’re breathing , and that’s what matters.” His soft, benign voice twirled into your ears as you shook your head in a nod.

“Good, now just keep breathing, and it’ll be over before you even know it, alright?”

“Alright.” you muttered.

And for a second, everything seemed to stop as your eyes read every detail of Mitsuya’s. His lilac eyes sparkled with benevolence; endearment; love. You can feel heat rush up to your face, squeezing his hand for reassurance.

Mitsuya’s cheeks felt on fire too, they looked squishable and lovely. You had to fight the urge to release your hand and use it to cup his cheek.

“Aaaand done!” the nurse, who had a smile planted on her lips broke the silence. She was ready to sprint out of the room and gossip about what she just witnessed, she thought it was cute!

“Oh, that wasn’t that bad.” you let out a dry chuckle, breaking eye contact with Mitsuya.

“What am I going to do with you,” Mitsuya’s lips twitched, forming a dazzling smile that you’d kill for.

“But you love me!”

“Can’t argue with you on that, I really do.”

____________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

[phoebenpiperx]

I decided my Sebpay squishmallow pillow was lonely so I made a matching Chadlos! No, I haven't acted out the "Bop to the sky, baby" scene with my pillows, why do you ask? ;)

[sixeyesgojo]

Team Gojo with babies

Summary: Team Gojo handling babies while they’re babysitting.

Content warning: fragile babies and Gojo

A/N: Oh, I’m almost caught up; only a two or three chapters are left until I have nothing to import from AO3 anymore lol Then I can finally start writing another oneshot lmao

Gojo Satoru

You would never guess but he is surprisingly good at holding babies, this man would never drop a baby

but he would pretend that he's dropping the baby just to fuck with everyone

This man seems to not only be a great jujutsu sorcerer but also some kind of magician: babies stop crying as soon as he holds them

Babies love playing with his white hair

He has no problems making the baby burp after feeding them

No problems with changing diapers either, he does it so neatly??

but he will whisper "This is all for the sake of the next generation" when he does it

Satoru going on a walk with the baby in the stroller? A sight to behold.

This man absolutely loves making the baby exercise because it's "like playing a video game console"

He talks to the baby... a lot... about almost everything. He'll sometimes imitate girly voices. Or reenact High School Musical scenes.

Sometimes he tells the baby about his day while changing the diaper. The baby wails. He'd say stuff like "Oh my god, so true bestie!!" (in the said imitation of a girly voice)

will pretend to eat the baby's hands or feet. His favorite part to "eat" are the cheeks though

Oooooh, the baby enjoys the airplane game with Gojo

I don't even know what to say, he's just great at everything. Even if he's not, that's just him pretending, not trying.

Itadori Yuji

HELP THIS BOY RIGHT NOW

He's a baby himself, so he will be helpless

someone has to tell him what to do and preferably show him how to do it

Feeding the baby: Bottle? Okay, that should be easy. Baby food? This boy will put one spoon into the baby's mouth and then a spoon into his own mouth.

occasionally, the baby will throw up on him but "it's fine", he says

Yuji will try to teach the baby to say his name. He'll be like "Yu-ji" for at least 45 minutes before realizing that this is a literal baby with limited ability.

changing diapers would be messy but good thing that Yuji is a quick learner

Babies like Yuji's fingers, they will use their iron grip on his fingers

sometimes they will try to jab their fingers in Yuji's second pair of eyes too

Like Satoru, he talks to the babies but somehow manages to be on the same wavelength as them??? Don't ask me how, he just does that. Baby laughs? Yuji laughs. Baby cries? Yuji almost cries too.

He also tells the baby about his day: "Did you know that Fushiguro....???"

He will toss the baby in the air - baby laughs, he laughs, all is well.

His go-to technique to make babies laugh is making dumb faces

watches movies or shows for children while holding the baby

tries to teach the baby how to walk

Fushiguro Megumi

Babysitting? He initially scowls at the very idea but let me present to you some soft Megumi hours when he is alone with the tiny human

HE WILL iNTRODUCE HIMSELF TO THE BABY, LIKE: "I'm Fushiguro, not that you know how to say it anyway but I'll be taking care of you today." IN THE SOFTEST VOICE

This boy will cook baby food himself, he knows how

not the best at changing diapers but does just fine

other than that, he is at a loss

'What do you do with babies?' - Still does better than Yuji though... but still at a loss.

will hold the baby so tenderly, he thinks they will break if he grips a little too hard

Contrary to the other two, he will leave the baby on the baby mat to play on their own at times while he does chores... but not for too long. He will check on them a lot.

Sometimes, he will play some soft music so the baby can listen to it while he holds them, gently rocking back and forth

Please, his facial expression when he holds the baby is so soft. Nobody can convince me otherwise.

He lets the baby play with and squish his cheeks

He reads children's books to the baby

plays with their baby arms and tickles them omggg

In his mind, that's his little sibling now.

Kugisaki Nobara

The baby is oddly drawn to the heart on her hammer but Nobara knows better than to give the baby the hammer. She will look for cardboard to cut out a heart-shaped form and paint it pink, so the baby can play with it safely.

creates a whole blanket fort for herself and the baby

Nobara definitely does that airplane thingy when feeding the baby

plays her favorite songs and dances(?) with the baby, twirling them around

At times, she will just hold the baby close to her and do nothing

Did you see these tiny hands though? Nobara loves them. She's always surprised at how strong a baby's grip can be.

is the type to play peek-a-boo a lot

How dare anyone breathe wrongly into this precious tiny human's direction?

naps with the baby, I don't make the rules.

Nobara definitely would dress up the baby but I doubt she has any spare baby clothes lying around

One thing she enjoys a lot is going out with the baby sitting in the stroller. It feels so peaceful, unless the baby starts crying..

Talking of a crying baby, she's not very good at handling them. Happy babies >>> crying babies, so she tries her best not to upset them.

"When you grow up, you better be as strong as I am," she says while squishing those squishable cheeks.

Nobara is lowkey sad when she has to return the baby

Taglist: @gojos-mochi​ @megumifushi​ @bleueluna​

[script-nef]

First kiss | Kirishima Eijirou

Request: Hi! Can u do the prompt of when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more with kirishima from BNHA! My boy is a gentleman THATS ALL I GOTTA SAY UGH SO MANLY

Y'all see this? Y'all see this??? THIS IS CALLED THE TRUTH MAH BOY IS SO DAMN RESPECTFUL AND LOVING GO BABY GO

Sorry this took so long, I had an idea in mind but it didn’t seem to flow and boom, a new one came and this happened. I hope you like it!!

Category: crack? fluff

1.4k words; why doesn’t your loveable and affectionate boyfriend ever kiss you? It’s time to find out.

Eijirou is an absolute gentleman, easily the best boyfriend you ever had. He’s incredibly attentive, lively, supportive and patient. Always free to give out affection in the form of hugs and small gifts, he makes sure to shower you with his feelings. You couldn’t ask for a better significant other.

But he doesn’t really kiss you for some reason. Small pecks, yes, but just on the nose or cheeks. Even then, nothing really longer or deeper than that. It never comes up in conversations since his unending love for you is proven through practically every other type of physical contact, but it’s confusing. You’d think he would fall over himself for a chance to kiss you. 

Concerns ranging from “do I have bad breath?” to “is he not sure of our relationship yet?” plague your thoughts, and it’s honestly emotionally taxing. And the worse thing is that you can’t ask him about it! Whenever you try to bring the topic up, he gives you that brilliant smile and the words die in your mouth. 

Curse him and his stupid, adorable, heavenly and squishable face. Ughhhh, why am I like this. I need hel— hm.

So instead of stewing it over by yourself, you turn to your girlfriends for their opinion.

“Are you kidding me? He’s in love with you so much we can feel it radiating from him! I thought I didn’t see you guys kissing because you’re too shy or something like that!”

“No, he just doesn’t. I don’t understand either, we’ve been going out for over half a year! Does he just hate kissing or is something about me off-putting and he’s not saying it to spare my feelings?” Groans escape as you fall onto the bed with a soft ‘thump’. The room is filled with muffled sounds as you press the pillow against your face. They watch as you roll over dejectedly on the blanket.

“I don’t think so, [Name]-chan. I overheard him talking about you once, kero. He was screaming to someone in his room about wanting to. I think he’s just nervous, kero.” Heat shoots up your face at her words and you scramble to face Tsuyu-chan.

“Re-really? Should I talk to him about it? He shouldn’t be nervous, he knows I love him.”

“You really should if it’s bothering you this much. Communication is key in relationships you know.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I should, I should.”

Which is why Eijirou notices your fidgeting in your weekly study session. It’s been a tradition between you two long before moving into the Heights Alliance. It’s usually composed of a couple of hours of studying with lots of mini breaks, then eventually watching YouTube videos or movies before you return to your room. 

This week’s session is cut short as he finally puts his pencil down after watching you glance or straight-up stare at him for at least 30 minutes.

“[Name]-chan, is something wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” His hand seeks yours out, frown forming in worry. This face always gets you to open up. Even before you started dating, Eijirou had a special puppy-eyes-and-baby-pout of “please tell me what’s going on” that never failed to make you crack. Since he figured that out, he uses it relentlessly.

I have to say it. The words stop just before your throat but you force them out. 

“Don’t take this in a weird or wrong way, but why do you never, you know, kiss me?” He freezes at your question. His eyes visibly bounce around and the reaction is almost comical. You would have laughed if it weren’t for the anxiety gnawing away at every single cell in your body. “Is there something wrong with me, is that why?”

“Of course it’s not you, why would you ever think that? I love every single thing about you! It’s just…” Fiddling with your hand, he covers his face with the other and looks away. Red permeates through his skin and soon his whole face is the same colour as his hair. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop once I do, and think about my teeth, babe!” He pulls his lower lip down to reveal his razor sharp teeth. “What if it hurts and it’s just horrible for you? What kind of a boyfriend would hurt his girlfriend?” He rambles on with other excuses but they just fade into the background.

Dumbfoundedness overtakes you at his exclamation. This was the reason? You were literally ripping your hair out for weeks because of this?

“Eijirou, why didn’t you tell me this? You just said it, I’m your girlfriend. You should be able to tell me these kinds of things before deciding by yourself that I won’t like it. A-and what if I don’t want you to stop?” Heat rushes to your face at the last sentence, and worsens as Eijirou’s head snaps to you, eyes wide in disbelief. Your ears feel like it’s on fire and there’s a sensation of something clogging against your throat. Suddenly your lap looks beyond fascinating, and you focus your line of sight on that.

An awkward silence fills the room. The faint ticking from a clock is nearly deafening and adds even more tension. But somehow your heartbeat in your ears is even louder. His eyes feel like it’s digging into your skin. Your hands are still linked together, the contact nearly uncomfortable because you’re both sweating buckets. He doesn’t say anything. You don’t say anything either. This stretches on for minutes, but it feels like hours—no years. Leap years. Unending years which is trying to choke the life out of you at this moment.

Mission abort, mission abort. Houston, we are having a major problem here. Houston, Houston are you listening oh my god I’m panicking why did I say that ughhhhh what if he thinks I’m weird now well that was never a secret but I am dying inside welp this is it I guess I’ll di— 

“Do you… want me to kiss you?” Eijirou’s grip tightens on your hand. Every muscle in your body locks into place, making you as still as a statue. “[Name]-chan? Are you— are you fine with me kissing you?”

When you slowly lift your head, Eijirou’s imploring eyes are staring right back at you, blazing red with a hint of… hope? His fingers gently tap on the back of your hand when you don’t respond, and he shuffles closer and closer to you. Until you can feel his hitched breaths against your face. His eyes shift nervously to yours. “Tell— tell me if you want me to stop.” And with that, he slowly leans in to close the gap between your lips. 

Wait what. Wait what? My mind is not functioning, is this happening? Is this actually happening right now? Wait no wait but don’t wait oh my god his face is so close this is it oh god my heart waitwaitwai— 

Eijirou’s lips finally connect with yours, and the feeling in your chest is… indescribable. He’s so soft, so much more than when he pecks your forehead or cheeks. He’s not very good at it, clearly stiff and frozen against your mouth, but since you’re the same, who’s to complain?

Eventually, he relaxes enough to press on more, emboldened by your lack of refusal. The sound of your lips pressing against each other intermingles with the clock’s ticks until it almost synchronises. His hands cup your face, thumbs lightly brushing over your cheeks. He gently nibbles on your lower lips, tongue gliding against the skin. You revel in the sweet sensation until pain pricks and the taste of iron invades your taste buds. 

Immediately detaching himself from you, Eijirou stares at your bleeding lip with horror in his face. You can almost see the regret and self-hatred screaming in his head. Apologies start spewing out but you really can’t care less right now.

“Eijirou, it’s fine! Come back here.” He doesn’t make any other moves than to continue saying sorry. It rushes out, rapid and nearly tear-ridden, so you take the initiative this time and press a kiss, ignoring the annoying taste of blood. He reciprocates for a split second but pulls away yet again. 

“I’m sorry, are you sure you-” His back thuds against the floor as your mouth reconnects with his arms coiling around his neck. His fingers dig into your ribs to stabilise your body on top of his before one slithers to your neck. 

The kiss fest lasts until Aizawa-sensei knocks on the door to remind the lights-out time.

[yeojaa]

TO THE MOON AND BACK - ft. ???

You feel winded and you're not sure why.  Like you'd been walking on cloud nine and were now falling through the atmosphere, plummeting toward the ground at incredible speeds.  When you speak, it doesn't really sound like you.  "Yes."  Because he was exactly right - you were a hopeless romantic.  Always had been.  It was hard not to be when your parents were childhood sweethearts and love was the thing you'd been chasing your whole life.

alt summary.  You use your one brain cell for love.  It doesn’t always end well.

pairing.  who knows, honestly.  the obvious ones are kim taehyung and jeon jungkook, though.  

tags.  blind date, strangers, strangers to friends, strangers to lovers, getting to know each other, alternate universe, alternate universe - modern setting, romantic comedy, fluff, slow burn, smut, pining, unrequited love.

rating.  ... 18+

word count.  ~4000

chapter 9.  

FLASHBACK September 1, 2018

"Just post it,"  you're chiding, indignant and exasperated and still, so incredibly soft.  You're prone against his shoulder, bone of your chin digging into the muscle that lines his back and undulates with every breath.  He moves forward, not to dislodge you from your position, but enough to shift the sharp turn of your jaw.  You say nothing further and settle into the warmth that radiates off him, nose lost to the hood of his sweatshirt.  

The mouse sits heavy in his palm, an anchor rather than 67 grams of nothingness.  There's too much power in the little black device.  It makes his jaw ache and his brow furrow.  You can feel the uncertainty radiating off him in waves, invading your senses in an unwelcome assault.

"Kook, come on."  Again, softer this time, laced with tenderness and belief.  It spills off your lips, buttery and sweet like carnival kettle corn.  Your arms find a home around the slant of his frame, fingers locking neatly over his chest, right where his heart lies beneath flesh and bone.  The steady thud of it is a reminder of his humanity.  "You've worked so hard for this."

This, being his portfolio.  His life's work made reality, brushed with the most utmost care and so much talent you're not sure where it all goes.  

Gouache portraits, vivid blues and greens splashed over cream;  wondrous proportions laid out bare, rendered to perfection with a keen eye and careful hand.  Production of stories you'd never be able to express, painted with the most glorious skill and cut to maximize impact.  Melodies woven in between and above; the sweetest sound you'd ever hear, awash with the light and shadow.  

His finger hovers over the button on his mouse as if it's a Doomsday device.  You want to scoff but bite it back, pressing your face into the freshly-washed powder puff that is his hair.  It smells of peaches and honey, mingling with the distinctly Jungkook scent that lingers on his skin.

"I can't do it."  He whispers the words like they're shameful, yanking his hand away and stuffing his hand into the kangaroo pouch bundled around his waist.  You sigh.  It's quiet but with your close proximity, he hears it and it's an echo that repeats over and over in his ears.  Eyes squeeze shut, dent forming between his brows as he exhales a shallow breath.  "I heard that."

"You were meant to,"  you return easily.  Because while you'd always be in his corner, supporting him when he needed it most, you also weren't about to let him rest on his laurels.  

Before he can stop it, you've got the mouse in your hand.  Click - like it's the easiest motion in the world.

"Did you just—"  You're retreating as soon as he's speaking, skittering back five steps and out of reach when he whirls around in his stupid red and black gaming chair.  The fury is immediately apparent in the baring of his teeth, the tension in his jaw.  It propels him forward and he's so much taller, his strides so much longer, that he's upon you in a second.

"You needed a push!"  It's a meagre excuse, squeaked out in indignation as you anticipate death by asphyxiation.

Instead, he's crushing you against him so tightly you really do feel like you can't breathe, though it’s different.  Still, it's better than what you'd anticipated and you pat his back where you can reach, arms locked to your side by the intensity of his hug.  You think he might squeeze the life out of you but you don't move to untangle yourself from him, instead mumbling soft reassurances against his chest.  "There, there."

"Thank you."  It's so hushed you think he might've meant it only for his ears, but you feel the way the words ghost over the shell of your own.  It sends a shock straight to your toes, rousing an adoring smile along the way.

"You're welcome,"  you hum in a voice thick with satisfaction.  You loved being right.  It didn't happen often - at least, not with Jungkook - so you revelled in it at every opportunity, allowing your ego to triple in size and engulf everyone in the immediate vicinity. 

Not one to let his defeat go so easily, he huffs.  The way he rolls his eyes makes you worry he'll sever an optic nerve.  "Still a brat, though."  

"Yeah, well—"  You're returning his childish petulance tenfold, tongue sticking out from between lips that taste like too-sweet plum wine and Sprite.  "—takes one to know one."  And boy, did you know one.  Had, for the better part of three years.  Sometimes you loved it;  sometimes, you didn't quite hate it.  At least, that’s what you told yourself.

The boy snorts from above you, withdrawing just enough that you can breathe and wiggle your arms.  He really was a muscle pig - your shoulders thrum with a dull ache.  "Shut up."  

"Don't think I will,"  you answer, watching the way his eyes glint and his jaw ticks.  He tongues the inside of his cheek as he glares down at you, silent.  You know what that means.  You brace for the feeling, feet planting into the hardwood like you're an oak taking up root. It's futile.

In a second, you're upside down, suspended over his shoulder like a toddler.  Well, not a toddler, because that would be incredibly bad parenting.  It's something funnier - a six year old playing airplane.  Except you're in your twenties and you've got much longer limbs than a child and they flail wildly, elbow knocking into the back of his head with a painful sounding thud.

"Watch it!"  He exclaims, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh.  He doesn't sound too bothered, though, the words dropping off into a laugh that bounces around the room and pitches higher.  "I wouldn't want to drop my precious cargo."

It's a threat that has you stilling, if only for a minute.  The last thing you want is to have your face make friends with the floor.  That'd happened once - on concrete, even - and you'd felt awful for days after.  Of course, he'd felt terrible, too, leaving an enormous fruit tart from Maybell Bakery outside your dorm the next day.

"Go ahead.  I've been craving some fresh bread."

"That was one time."  

You can tell you've struck a nerve by the way he tenses beneath you, forearm flexing over the small of your back.  You can't help but snicker, swatting his sweatpant-covered ass just enough to jostle him.

"I was kidding, Mr. Sensitive."  

He doesn't dignify that with an answer, instead shifting into action.  His bare feet carry him in a tight circle before he deposits you onto his bed and not a minute too soon.  You'd started to feel a strain in your neck, blood rushing to your head the longer you were hung like a rag doll.

"You're a pain in my ass sometimes."  Though the words are unkind, his delivery is not.  There's far too much tenderness in his eyes, the way they crease and nearly disappear when he offers you one of his trademark bunny smiles.  

You return the expression with ease, wiggling your thin, piano-honed fingers at him.  "Literally."

"Yeah, literally." ��With another exaggerated roll of his eyes, he flops face-down on the bed beside you, arms curling around a pillow and dragging it under his cheek.  His knees hang off the edge before he's dragging one up, locking it over your legs in some contortionist cuddle.  He peeks at you from beneath his fringe - it's just the right side of too long, curling prettily over his doe eyes and obscuring his eyebrows. Despite the eye contact you carefully maintain, he says nothing, merely peering up at you like he's trying to read his future or see the stars.

Finally, you speak, turning your gaze back to his popcorn ceiling as your hands find comfort in the weight of his leg, the tendons flexing in the joint of his knee.  Your neck was beginning to kink.  "What?"  

"Thank you, again."  Because once isn't enough.  Never will be, when it comes to the two of you.  You've always pushed him to do what he needed, even when he wasn't so sure himself.  He can't thank you enough for that - or for the fact that you're always there, right at the edge with him.

You smile then and meet his stare again.  "You're welcome, Kook.  Happy birthday."

"What is this?"  

You're half-asleep and groggy, struggling to push past the awful clutches of Sandman and his dreams.  They linger in every crevice, coating your lashes in dust and your tongue in cotton.  Luckily, there's no ache behind the fatigue, no lurking monkey about to crash its cymbals in defiance of you and God.

Through the frame of lethargy, you make out the familiar slope of shoulders, of a delicate pair of hands.  Past that comes his adorable smile, all squishable cheeks and barely there eyes, mouth contorted into that peculiar shape.  He's not where he should be - in bed beside you, fast asleep.  Instead, he's statuesque, barely dressed in a pair of soft cotton shorts and nothing else with your breakfast tray held aloft.  There's a pile of waffles - they look surprisingly good - and two mugs.  Somehow, there's also an assortment of flowers thrown into what looks like a water glass.  

Had you died and gone to heaven?  Surely not.  

"Happy birthday,"  your - yes, your, you remind yourself - golden Adonis sings in a voice so rich, so tender, you immediately feel a lump forming in your throat.  He's looking at you like a kid on Christmas morning,0 hopeful and filled with childish wonderment.  It stokes the warmth that spreads through your veins, lava in place of platelets.  It burns from the inside out but it's pleasant - sitting too close to a fireplace on a chilly winter evening rather than an open flame. 

Nails bite into the fleshy underside of your palm in a belated attempt to rouse yourself from the very pleasant daydream.  It stings but nothing comes further.  You're not imagining things.  

You have to applaud your past self for whatever she'd done to deserve this.  

"You really didn't have to."  A moment after it slips off your tongue, you wish it hadn't.  The last thing you want to seem is ungrateful.  Luckily, Taehyung is steadfast and unbothered, dropping forward onto a knee to slide the tray over your clean white linens.  He looks so good, all honey skin and tousled bedhead, that you can't focus when he catches your lips in a lingering kiss.

His laughter crowds your mouth, along with the taste of peppermint toothpaste and, just behind it, honey and what tastes like tea, floral and earthy.  "I wanted to."

A sound most similar to a sigh - maybe a bit needier, filled with adoration - meets the air when he withdraws, settling himself on the edge of the bed with that same heartbreaking grin.  He pushes your birthday breakfast toward you, earnest and lovely.  He even unceremoniously shoves your utensils between your fingers, forcing them into your grip like a toddler.  

"Eat,"  he commands, though his tone is too light to really elicit any movement from you.  It's only the way he looks that prompts you to dig in, cutting a generation portion of waffle loaded with what looks like whipped cream and strawberries.  You raise your fork aloft, gesturing for him to take the first taste.  He simply shakes his head and with gentle pressure, redirects the forkful back to you.  His loss.

The strawberries are surprisingly sweet yet incredibly tart, their freshness breaking up the honey glaze.  The fact that you haven't even brushed your teeth isn't lost on you;  you can't bring yourself to care when you're melting into the flavours and humming delightedly.

"Is it good?"  

"If you'd just try some, you'd know."  You answer with hearts in your eyes and affection blooming like roses across your cheeks, sparkling shades of warmth springing across fields of baby's breath.  Another forkful is raised and this time you won't allow him to redirect, holding the mouthful aloft and meeting his stare with purpose.

A moment passes, then another.  The edge of his mouth ticks higher.  Your eyes burn from your refusal to blink.

When he accepts the bite, you allow an exaggerated breath, the sound expelling from pursed lips with triumph.  "Yum?"  You question, giddy and grateful.  You sneak another bite while he chews, tongue feathering across his bottom lip to catch some residual cream from the corner.

"I did good."  He sounds so proud, chest puffed like a baby bird that's learnt to fly.  You're torn between the intense desire to squish his cheeks or kiss him silly and you stare at him for a long moment as you swallow, the intoxicating flavour of honey and strawberries sitting like a spring picnic on your tongue.  It sinks into the spaces between your teeth - a shot of loved-up sugar right into the veins - and you set your fork down. 

Free hands find the slope of his jaw and act as a cradle, thumbs smoothing over the soft dry petal of his bottom lip.  He peers at you curiously, strands of silk brushing over his gaze as he works to meet your stare.  

"What?"

You want to pass all of your affection into the smile you offer and the kiss you press, chaste and light.  "Thank you."  The emotion in your voice rings true, echoes heavily in the breath you pair it with.  "You really, really didn't have to."  But I'm really glad you did, are the words you don't say, allowing them to hang between you like a gossamer thin thread - a spider's web interconnecting all the different ways you adore him.

"I know,"  he hums as he moves in for another kiss - one that lingers and pulls and draws you deeper into the abyss that is him.  Careful hands slide the breakfast tray to the farthest corner of the bed, far away from wandering limbs, and then he's dragging you closer, over the soft white duvet.  Fingers find a home in the small of your back as you find the same nearly in his lap, knees caught against the line of his side.  Like this, he envelopes you, all sharply angled shoulders and imposing, but you don't mind.  It feels nice being wrapped in his embrace. 

FLASHBACK April 24, 2019

You need to get this done.  You can't stop until you've finished because you've been losing steam the entire week and now you're running on fumes, halfway to the finish line and about to collapse.  The strain behind your eyes feels miserable, like hot coals have replaced your usual organs, and you've nearly chewed a hole through your bottom lip.  It feels like a punishment in and of itself to feel the constant throb and the metallic tang on your tongue.

Why did you always do this?  You'd had all semester to work on this and yet, here you were, stark raving mad and exhausted on a random Friday.  

No, Saturday now.  It was almost five in the morning.

Frustration colours your complexion, marks the tired skin in patchy shades of red, and you blow a sharp breath out under your breath.  You know you have no one to blame but yourself but you try to ignore the guilt that licks up the column of your spine and settles like a heavy collar around your neck.  You can't linger on it too much - you're too busy trying to hack this artist's block to dust.

Lids squeeze shut of their own accord and the heels of your palms dig into the sockets, as if that'll help drive the emptiness from your thoughts or, at the very least, alleviate some of the mind-numbing pressure that's been building since you started this futile task six hours ago.  The consistent press helps a little - draws blossoms of light against the back of your eyelids - and you exhale a beleaguered sigh, head dropping ever so slightly.  Between the headache that's settled in like an unwelcome house guest and the general tiredness of being up for nearly twenty-four hours straight, you're not sure which is worse. 

You also don't have much time to think about it when your phone starts going off, vibrating madly across the flat top of your desk.  It's face-down - you'd wanted as few distractions as possible - and you consider ignoring it for a moment.

Only when you consider the time do you decide to answer it.  After all, nobody just called at this hour.  It might be important.

You hardly hazard a glance at the screen before you're swiping across, dimly noting the familiar silly photo of your classmate and friend plastered across the pixels.  "What's up, Jeon?"  The words come out scratchy and for the first time, you realize how parched you are.  You're not quite sure when you'd last drank or stood up or anything.  God, you were a poor excuse for an adult.  

"Open the door."  

It's equal parts impressive and irritating how chipper he somehow sounds, as if he's just woken up from the best sleep in the world and powered his way through a strongman's breakfast.  Chapped lips twist, descending into a pout you know he can't see, and you force yourself to focus on what he's said and not how you'd give anything in the world to trade places with him and his sunny disposition.  

Wait— what?  Open the what?  

"What did you say?"  

You can practically imagine the lines at his nose and around his eyes, the dimples that you're sure are carved into those cheeks of his.  "I said open the door!"  

Before you can think anything of it, you're rising from your chair - nearly knocking over your neglected glass of water with the movement - and allowing your slipper-wearing feet to carry you out of your bedroom and to the front door.  You bump into the table in your hallway, earning a grunt and sharp inhale of breath as your fingers soothe what you know will be a bruise in the morning.  Maybe you should've turned on the light.  Maybe you should've stopped at the washroom to make sure didn't frighten him with your insane hair and sleepless pallor.  Maybe you should've done a lot of things.

Instead, you slide the lock, open the door, and nearly shriek when Jungkook’s upon you faster than you can react.

"Happy birthday!"  A single solid arm is crushing you to his chest, his breath warm against your temple, before he engulfs you fully.  You feel your feet leave the ground momentarily, fuzzy slippers clattering to the floor as he squeezes you with just enough force to steal your breath away.  It might be why you're not reciprocating - you physically cannot - or it’s the fact that your brain is playing catch-up and your limbs are already a little boneless from lack of sleep.

"What are you doing here?"  You manage to squeak against the smooth fabric of his jacket.  It's the same one he always wears - black with Yohji Yamamoto embossed across the left-side of his chest - and it smells intoxicating, a familiar blend of his cologne and laundry detergent.  You inhale the scent like it'll sooth your half-asleep, ragged nerves.  It does, a little, and you're grateful for that.  You don't even pull away when he finally releases you, stepping back just enough to let you slide back into your slippers and peer up into his face.  

He really had no business looking so good.  Despite the early hour, his dark hair is neatly styled or at the very least, freshly washed.  It's fully dry and surprisingly fluffy, falling over those big doe eyes in a way that makes you want to run your fingers through it.  It's a little longer than usual, too, and you reach a hand out to smooth strands behind a silver-adorned ear.

"It's your birthday,"  comes his response, as if it's the most obvious answer in the world.  

A brow quirks - tries to, at least - and you regard him with something not quite suspicious but definitely confused.  It plays across your features in shadows, peeking around the fan of your lashes and the frame of your mouth.  "It's also... four in the morning."

"Five, actually."  There's that stupid adorable smile of his, presented like a gift and topped with squeaky laughter.  "And I told you I was coming over."

"No, you didn't."  You'd have remembered that - right?

"I did."  As if to drive his point home, the glaringly bright screen of his phone is all but shoved into your line of sight, artificial light burning your retinas.  You shift away, swatting at his wrist as he watches in barely concealed amusement.  He thinks you're frustrated by his very 'I told you so' smile that fits snug over his mouth and wrinkles the delicate skin around his eyes;  he's surprised when you take the device back in your hands and peer at it like it's the strangest thing you've ever seen.

Well, he certainly hadn't lied.  A handful of texts - maybe more than that - mock you, text bubbles indicating he had indeed sent you messages all throughout the night.  Little one-liners asking what you were doing, followed by a gentle head's up much later that he'd see you soon.  Of course, you'd ignored them all, far too engrossed in making near zero progress on your semester-end project.  It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth - equal parts tentative embarrassment and residual fatigue.  Lips purse, straighten into a firm line, and arms fold over your chest.  It's reminiscent of a spoiled child and frankly, beneath the burnout, you know it's not a good look.  Unfortunately, you can’t find it in yourself to rearrange your expression into something more socially acceptable.

Luckily, he's seen you like this enough times to not mind - you always fell into ruts like this when your procrastination met a hard deadline - the irritation seemingly unable to penetrate the sunny turn of his mouth and slope of his wide, open shoulders.  "So, are you ready?"  

"Ready for..."  You trail off, partially out of confusion and partially out of a lack of capacity to consider the question.  

"We're going on an adventure."  

Again, so simple and yet so cryptic.  It draws your eyebrows into a little knot, consternation setting into every thread.  "I have a project to do, you know."  Despite this, there's a pearl of longing that dangles from your syllables.

He zeroes in on it without hesitation, drawing you easily against him.  "I'll help you with it later,"  he says, as if that's a good enough excuse.  You suppose it is.  "In the meantime, go get ready?  You look like you have a rat living in your hair and I don't want you getting mistaken for a homeless vagrant on the train."  Despite the mockery, his expression is soft, smile sweet and playful as it always is.

It's impossible to deny him when he's like this, cherubic and enticing. 

With a sigh that blows past chapped lips and disappears into his chest, you relent.  "Fine."  You're careful to keep your tone just a little grating, as if you're somehow doing him the huge favour.  You know he can see right through it but neither of you mind;  it's all a part of your silly routine.  "Come in and wait for me and don't eat my cereal."

"No promises."

notes.  here, take my weird birthday-centric chapter.  i wanted to add more to this but my brain hasn’t been cooperating with me lately.  

i swear the next chapter will be better - with more exploration of the present! - but thanks for reading.  :)

[rizosguin]

⌠ JACOB BATALON, 22, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, RIZO GUINTO! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in ADVANCED ENCRYPTION + RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (only light in a room coming from a game console, soft squishable items scattered on a table, and calculations scribbled on a napkin). when it’s the taurus’s birthday on 05/04/1997, they always request their LUMPIA from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ jess, 21, she/her, cst ⍀

add him on steam...username riceboii

family background: ferdinand and tani guinto met months after tani’s graduation from the gallagher academy through a mutual friend. as ferdinand settled into a medical career, tani gunned for a cozy desk job at the cia. mostly because despite the bravado tani had put on in her life as a gallagher girl, she always looked at a relatively calm end to what she always thought was a fast-lane lifestyle. excitement first, peace later. excitement came in the form of her marriage to ferdinand then came the two biggest blessings she’s had so far - marisol & rizalino. 

growing up, marisol (maris) & rizalino (rizo) were either working on things together or sulking in different parts of the house competing to be the best at whatever they were both into so far. but all in all, the fraternal twins had a great relationship. 

the two were relatively ‘good’ kids, though overachieving to a fault. whatever pranks or practical jokes they had were relatively harmless. said their ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’. 

the path to take in their adolescence was clear. they’ve always admired the kind of work tani did and while their mother was never too keen on having her two babies go through gallagher, their father was eager. gallagher was a golden stamp in a resume that was sure to gain his children an access to almost anywhere. wherever they go assured success and ferdinand was more than happy to approve.

personality-wise; rizo is a happy-go-lucky, glass half full type of person. his whole life thus far has always been - family, maris, video games, and computers. friends were those who were like-minded and so how he acts socially is very vibrant and assumes that you might be interested in things he likes. very welcoming instead of gatekeeping (”oh, you’ve never played league? i can get you signed up! i’ll have you in my league squad!” ****disclaimer: i’ve never played league). 

now...romantic love. rizo has never really had any romantic experience beyond schoolyard crushes. he’s always depended on maris when it comes to texting people and over-analyzing messages. has been on one (1) date, at the movies, with a boy maris was also friends with. he tries very hard - overtly sometimes. really dorky. let him breathe. 

reputation-wise; a nerd. a weird nerd. he always has the weirdest ideas, esp in his research and development classes. (#bananaphone) he hasn’t fully broken away from the ‘maris-and-rizo’ label, but he doesn’t mind.

thank you for reading! hit me up either here on tumblr or on discord for sum good plotting! <3

[outerspacehippiehay]

Answer all of those aesthetic questions. If you don't have that determination answer your favorite ones!

Thanks bestie I need this right niow, just like you did flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself? Now, listening to This is Gospel rnfairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know? Oh God....Who am I destined to be with... daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life? Um...I’m 22 my greatest accomplishment is getting out of bed for work.1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? I need to really think...No. I wouldn’t because whatever reason I’m going to die was since I had no knowledge. If i start acting all crazy and rebellious I could die sooner.black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things? It’s not real but I can come up with three. One: Travel to a different country. Two: Learn to love myself Three: Make a difference.pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail. I’m not rreally a close person but if I were to choose anyone it would be my best friend. She and I have been friends for oh so long and I go to her for everything. She likes to dye her hair but its naturally a beautiful chestnut brown that flows off her shoulders by an inch. Her eyes are not even a normal color either. They are yellow like a cat with a tint of auburn to add soft tones of a sunset sky. In the middle bottom of her squishable face are some plump creamy pink lips. Sorta jealous since mine are so thin ughmoodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood? HAHAHAHAHA what is that? Because I had to question my own sanity when I went over friends houses and seeing the difference between brothers and sisters and asking myself what happens between my sister and I isn’t normal? This doesnt happen to others?stars: when did you last cry in front of another person? Today...In a restaurant... I AM NOT A CRY BABYplants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them. Yeah my best friend @stranded-ali3nconverse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them? This i struggle with man because I need counseling and yet I don’t wanna go to a stranger and open up to them. So... NO!lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you? Probably Andrew seeing as he’s my only friend up that late xD but its always a great conversation. Thanks brother!!!handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom? WHY SO DEEP? “Thank you mom, thank you for everything and I love you and my brother with all my heart and forever will be with you” cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes? Did you read the description of my best friends eyes? I believe my boyfriend has brown eyes. So they cute.sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally. “This isn’t even my final form” I heard it from a friend and discovered it was from Dragon  Ball Z but I fell in  love with it. I am me but I’m still changing I’m still growing. You haven’t even seen what I can fully do yet. All such empowering thoughts.oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far? “Sad Stoned and Stupid.overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars? Buy my mother, brother and I the ranch we have our eyes on.combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way? Yes I can be very forgiving in situations however in rare cases I may not forgive ever, No I don’t like it because obviously people walk all over me for it.winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self. Right now on this? Ugh no thanks. 12 year old me stay away from brad, joe, and miranda i dont give a fuck it’s your sister just do it! Stand up for yourself. Put your foot down and keep saying No. pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel? Pastel with dash of punktattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain. Well I love them and have one sooooooo, I do because it is a form of art. That you can show off like in museums except they are on your body. piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not? Depends on the day but mostly I wear makeup to feel prettier to myself. I hide my dark circles and my pimples as if no one else deals with them. bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way. All music has effected me. Mostly in a positive way. If I had to choose one it would be Evanescence, As an alternative kid I would listen to them because I related to the deepness from her lyrics and loved the classical sound with inspiring lyrics. Helped me feel less alone in this huge world full of mirrors.messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them. “Just be nice and considerate and NEW ENGLAND USE YOUR GOD DAMN BLINKERS”cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel. Alan Jackson as a child it was my first one and it was great. I went with my dad and thats all I really remember except for they had 5oclock somewhere buttons i wanted. I went to Shinedown with my step dad and I wasnt supposed to go it was my mom that was but she gave her ticket up for me. Thanks mom that really was an amazing acoustic concert filled with personal and raw emotions.  grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?A letter? No one does that anymore. But if I wanted to recieve one it would be from Chris and that he changed his ways has a steady job and is taking care of his child. No more gang shit and actually making hs life better and all cause I stopped talking to him did it slap him in the face. So he wanted to thank me for that.space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised? I have an area for work yes and usually it’s not organized because of other so I organize it because I can’t stand a mess at work. white bed sheets: what is your night time routine? Get high and then sleep.old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know? I don’t want my dad to know I like girls... I don’t wanna see his reaction. My mom.. probably who I had sex with.beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why? Ouff! I want black hair!!!! But I know it kills it! I do enjoy my curls but I’d defrizz them and probably go to a deep dark maroon color.eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do? I’m too high and drunk for this question NEXT11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them. I feel like the letter one is a wish sooo two. I wish my mom happiness she deserves it. Three I had natural beauty.painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up. I mean I put together a decent Alice in Wonderland costume seeing as I won best costume for it. lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high? I really don’t do anything too bad. I guess peeing in my garbage so I wouldn’t need to leave my bedroom?thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars? Kill someonestorms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why? One song. Freaky Friday by Lil Dicky.. It always make me smile because it’s so funny! Also I need people more than music as odd as it is to admit. I can’t choose one person. love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love. Yes I have and I don’t wanna go there because he don’t love me back and that is all I wanna talk about.clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone? I don’t go often but I love that dragonfruit tea they had/have?? And anyone it’s a pretty simple order if you can’t get it right then you are really stupid.marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now? My mom and brother.fin.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

Hey Jun, Rex, Kiyoshi, since you 3 have seen the boys in their fundoshi through one picture, I have a separate one from behind, for each one. Once you see it..I want all 3 of you to tell why it's so cute to you

*first picture was to Jun, His pup's cute butt in his white fundoshi, along with his cute birthmark, second was Kai's bouncy rear in his red Fundoshi for Rex, finally was Kagefumi's butt in his black fundoshi, it was quite round but not big, it seemed like it was very form fitting*

"Ok, let us start with Jun and end with Kiyoshi, dont be shy now"

The three males looks to the anon hearing they have pics of their love interests to hold them. Jun seeing his pup's teasable rear. Then Rex seeing his Kai's bouncy rear, and Kiyoshi seeing Kagefumi's butt too. They said nothing but wonders how to answer this.

~Jun's answer

"Well, pup is always a precious little cutie to me. Seeing him being all innocent and adorable that it leaves me wondering if he's teasing me. Seeing that cute bubble butt of his swaying behind him. The adorable little birthmark that seems to really be as sensitive as he warns. It's like his rear puts me under some trance to just punish him for it. *Sighs* My cute pup knows how to really tease me."

~Rex's answer

"Honestly, his rear is more bubbly than I thought it would be. I've felt it once before and it's soft and squishable. I think I even rested my head on it once when I was in wolf form. He didn't seem to mind it after all. I do have the urges most times to sneak a little pinch here and there. Though, I wonder if he's really alright with that? Seems to be knowing he is just as bad as teasing." he mutters.

~Kiyoshi's answer

".....I wasn't expecting his rear to be so round but very form fitting. It looks so strong and able to handle the roughest spankings. I know if I used one of my paddles, he would just moan wanting another and another. *Sighs* I will never see how Kage becomes even cuter...even running it against that sore red butt of his." he snickered.

[coffuminati-blog]

I want the K

Send me 'I want the K' and I'll generate a number / @onlysanemxrsh / accepting!

17: Goofy Kiss

As a ghost, Kyle had the inability to physically touch people or objects. It was one of the many cons of being dead. It frustrated him to no end, causing him to break objects with rage instead of moving them with calmness. Yet things happened to change when time has passed.

It all started with Stan's cheeks—— soft and squishable, and pretty much irresistible when it came to touching them. Like, who knew Stan’s cheeks were smooth and soft?Kyle had NO IDEA until the first touch was initiated, and something sparked inside his chest. Stan happened to be upset that day, absolutely hating the fact that he was a monster who is forced to changed into something that he dreads over. So the boy was currently found on the couch, a blanket over his shaking form. And Kyle wanted to do something, to attempt to comfort him and reassure him despite unable to do much. Yet part of him wanted to touch him, to hold him, whisper comforting words into his ear and hug him. 

So he does it without thinking, the human part of him needing to comfort his friend who needs the comfort, and that was when his hands successfully brushed against his cheeks, palms cupped onto the softness of the boy’s cheeks. It was something new, for the both of them.Stan pointed it out, and Kyle just looked stunned, his hands never leaving Stan’s cheeks.

It happened to be the beginning of the many touches that proceed to happen throughout the days. Just simple touches you know? A simple touch now and then, like hands on cheeks, or holding hands, just basic stuff that Kyle couldn’t do until now.

It was amazing, and Kyle was unable to contain his happiness and absolute joy towards it.I mean. He didn’t even want to contain it as it was an immediate reaction to touching him, and touching Stan always brought a genuinely happy smile to his lips. 

And as each touch had happened, and how the days have passed with talking and touching, and a few other stuff here and there as their days weren’t always just touching, since Stan has a life of his own. Kyle began to think of other things, such as... you know, kissing.

It was a bit embarrassing to think about it, especially when you’re a ghost who hasn’t kissed anyone for months now. He’s kissed other ghosts, like that Kenny guy, but a human being? Or well. A werewolf in Stan’s case. 

So here he was, contemplating on his actions. A kiss was just a kiss; no harm behind it unless it immediately breaks the bonds of their friendship in half, then he’s pretty much screwed. So he sits there, right beside Stan who was watching whatever on the TV. Honestly, Kyle was not exactly paying attention to that. You know what he was paying attention too? Stan’s lips. Duh. 

And as he stares, he thinks more. And as he thinks, his body began to lean in over to the other. He gulps hard, jade greens unable to avert away from Stan’s face or lips. Like. It was hard, okay? Especially since Kyle was practically thinking about it all day.

He leans in, closer and closer, and then— Stan fucking moves over to the side to grab the remote, and Kyle just slips down and falls right through him for a second there before immediately sitting back up with a red face, embarrassment written all over it. FUCK. 

OKAY. THAT’S IT! 

The ghost emitted out an annoyed-like noise and reached out, hands softly cupping Stan’s ( oh so soft and very squishable ) cheeks and pulled him over to Kyle.His jade greens stare into ocean blue, unable to look away whilst he leans in, easily captivated by those beautiful eyes of his. Stan wasn’t moving away, nor had any protests towards his actions. So he accepts that, leaning in and accidentally bonking their noses together, softly that is. It made him chuckle, and he swore Stan let out a soft chuckle of his own before being silenced by Kyle’s lips. 

The kiss was soft, and it was entirely new to Kyle who hadn’t kissed in months, or years even. So when their lips had met, and the experience had arrived, it made Kyle overjoyed and happy. He was so fucking happy that he was able to do this. It made happy tears appear in his eyes, accompanied by a goofy smile that approached his lips. 

He pulls back, still smiling. “——that was-- oh my god, that was just so... fucking amazing dude!” Kyle says happily, pretty overwhelmed with the new experience. He then leans in again just for one more kiss. Or maybe two, or three. Just simple happy kisses with a few delighted chuckles that escaped Kyle’s lips, along with his cheeks squishing those cheeks of Stan’s.

Fuck. He’s going to love this so much. Just like the cheeks, Stan’s lips were going to be IRRESISTIBLE. 

[sapphicnausicaa]

In Which Johnny Tries to Talk to Max, But Then Panics Because of His Crush on Him

EDIT: ive put this on AO3 (FINALLY)

Johnny was on a mission, he was going to talk to the mvp about just who Johnny was. And Max was going to accept that this was the Johnny to Johnny, he wasnt going to stop being this Johnny and start be someone who wasnt Johnny anymore just to impress max. No, if this was going to work, if Johnny was going have Max respect him and junk too, it had to be because he was true to HIS heart, just like he true to his True Hearts Foreverboys.

So Johnny ran through the school, searching for max. He was determined to tell him exactly what he was thinking and how he was feeling. he wasnt going to back down from this, hes Johnny, the roughest, toughest, BUFFEST kid in the school!!! The thought of Max not like Johnny for how Johnny he is doesnt scare him!!!! He aint scared of nothing!!!! Hes JOHNNY JHONNY FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!! And just when Johnnys hunt for the boy he junks seemed fruitless, he turned the corner and saw max, the currently-not-levitating boy, searching through his locker.

“MAX” Johnny yelled when he spotted Max, he ran up to him with intense determination. He skidded and slammed into the locker left of Max, causing the smaller boy to startle and drop his books.

“So,” Max said with a poorly held back smile in his voice, “did you come back to our next session already?” He turned to look at Johnny, lips pursed together with the corners of his mouth jerking up. He was clearly happy to see Johnny, even though his exhaustion from the day was even clearer. But his expression for concealed joy turned to one of pure confusion as he realized Johnny didnt have a shirt on. “Dude, what the flip? Wheres your shirt?”

Of course Johnny didnt hear this, he was still reeling from the unfairly cute face Max had just made that was making his face start to burn, the face that was SO SOFT and SO SQUISHABLE that it made his heart punch his throat and his voice to wither and die before it could for any words. Johnny, losing the hype he built up on the way to said soft and squishy boy, Johnny opened his mouth to say something along the lines of ‘i think your cool and want you to think im cool but not because im no longer johnny anymore’

Instead he made nothing choking, wheezy sound that caused the redness of his face to spread down his neck to his shoulders.

“Johnny? Buddy? You alright there my energetic ‘foe’?” Max said, calling Johnny's attention from his inability to properly speak, to Max. “You look like youre about to choke, do you need to go to the nurse for that? And to get a new shirt?” Max now had a raised eyebrow and a small frown on his face. his soft, squishable, absolutely adorable face and oh no Johnnys not as ready to confront all this junk hes feels towards Max as he thought he was.

“Johnny?” max asked as johnny's red face got redder and max's masked concern grew less masked. Johnny looked like he was about to burst into flames, and he was struggling to form a single word. “Johnny, dude whats up?” max reached out with his non-sling bound arm  to grab johnny's shoulder.

But the moment max's hand made contacted with him, johnny's nerves went from just slightly below what he can handle to busting past that limit and forcing johnny to take action, so he took action.

By screaming and shoving Max.

Max stumbled back with squak, arm flailing out and managing to get a hold onto his still open locker door to prevent himself from falling to the floor, looking at Johnny with extremely agitated confusion. Johnny, on the other hand, was not so luck. He, after shoving max in his panicked state, turned to bolt away from how overwhelmed he was. But instead of turning away from Max to the open hallway, where he would be free to flee, he turned towards the locks he had previously slammed into, and proceeded to smash into them, stumble back and slip on the books Max had dropped, and fall to the floor. Johnny, unable to properly function in such an emotionally stressed state, decided that the next best course of action would be to curl up in a ball and continue to scream out this indescribable emotion until he felt better. This is not something he could just punch out, even though he wishes it was.

[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

NSFW #09: Showcase

Big Mike’s was closing up for the night. Cheerfully, Kerrigan McGuire gave a wave to the last straggling customer who shuffled out the door with his gym bag, turned the lock, and went about cleaning up- sweeping, wiping things down, tossing a couple bins’ worth of towels into bags to take home and wash. One would think he’d hire someone to do this for him, but Kerry liked being a minimalist operation. Finally, after a good amount of cleaning, he was about to go home to his wife, but he paused, and then laughed a hearty chuckle, shaking his head. He’d almost forgotten to do something very important. Striding over to the photograph wall, he smiles at a certain frame that’d been empty for ages. Producing a large manila envelope, he slides a glossy photo from it and into the frame. His daughter and her partner, one arm around each other and the other each holding up a title belt. Bloody, bruised, sweaty… and victorious. Kerry took a few moments to admire the photo, beaming with pride, before shutting off the last few lights and slipping out, locking the door behind him. The camera feed opened up with a close up on one half of the EWC tag-team champions. Mike McGuire looked rather happy- not surprising, considering they’d spent a week in her hometown already with the added bonus on being the newly crowned champions. She had her belt over one shoulder- she’d made a habit of carrying it with her practically everywhere. “Say hey, EWC faithful! It’s ya boys- and ya NEWWWWWWW EWC Tag Team Champions- NSFW! Holy shit. Did you all see Rumble in the Bronx? Did ya? Do it if you haven’t. Watch it on EWC TV. Or YouTube that shit if you’re cheap. It was fuckin’ A from start to finish. Mucho Grande beat the fucking shit out of us, but hey. We made a promise. We’ve said from day one that we were gonna be champions, and here we are.” She patted the belt, a calloused up hand slapping against the central golden plate. “Now, just so you know, we plan on being fighting champs. We got our eyes on the repositioning of the division, seeing who’s gonna rise up and try to take these from us. But in the meantime? We’re gonna keep fucking pounding. We ain’t just gonna sit on our laurels stuffing our faces or something.” Camera panned to the left. Bishop Church was in the middle of popping a neatly cut forkful of pizza into his mouth. The shot sat on him for a few awkward moments as he refused to talk with his mouth full. He finished the bite, and then took a sip from a glass of ice water. “Uh, that’s right.” The shot pulled out a bit to reveal NSFW was actually sitting at a table in front of Juliana’s, one of the best pizza joints in Brooklyn. Two pies sit in front of them- one pepperoni, the other a peculiar affair festooned with garlic, sausage, and broccoli. The place was fairly busy, considering the locals and tourists were taking advantage of the last stretch of summer-ish weather before it started cooling off. Some pedestrians passing by noticed the champs sitting on the porch and gave a cheerful holler, to which Mike would holler back. Bishop forgoed the hollering but did wave in return politely. For his part, Bishop looked the most obviously like he’d been in a major fight- dark bruises ringed under his eyes, and the bridge of his nose was still black and blue. This didn’t seem to put much of a damper on his mood, though. He seemed quite content with his dinner, cutting each oversized slice into small pieces, removing the sausage, and eating it nibble by nibble, much to the consternation of his partner, who in a more traditional manner was folding her slices in half before scarfing them down. “You’re supposed to fold it, y’know. That’s how you do it here. The slices are big so you can fold ‘em, it holds the toppings in all nice, and you can eat ‘em with one hand.” “I don’t like directly touching my food if I can help it.” “Okay, fair enough. Hey, where’s your belt, though? I mean, looks kinda weird for me to be carrying mine around without yours to match it and stuff.” John dabbed a cloth napkin at the corner of his mouth and shook his head. “Didn’t want to get grease all over the leather.” “...you are the most logical fuckin’ person in the whole world, y’know that? But I like that. Makes up for me never thinking anything through.” Mike laughed, and regarded the camera again. “See folks, said it before, said it again. This is why we’re an awesome fucking team, and this is why we’re champions. Our positives make up for each other’s negatives and together, we’re un-fuckin-stoppable. But that don’t mean we ain’t gonna welcome people trying. That’s why we didn’t wanna take a week off for some goofy coronation ceremony or whatever. Those things are corny and stupid as shit.” “Imagine the pomp and circumstance.” John paused, and as much as default expression would allow, some wonder creeped into his tone. “There could be dancing.” “Usually ain’t. I mean, if we WERE doing one there could be I guess. But I dunno about you, but I’d rather have a match. We’re fighters. Not lovers, like our opponents this week.” John’s fork clattered against his plate. “Los Amantes.” “That’s ‘The Lovers’ en espanol, compadre.” “Yes. Modern day Lotharios.” “I got it! I got that fuckin’ reference! Can’t fuckin’ stand guys like that though. They’re usually the type to see women as fuckin’ trophies and not, y’know. People and shit.” “Character flaws aside, what’s there to know? New team. Old friends. Mike, you know what that means?” “I absolutely do.” “Not to be taken lightly.” “Yep. Cuz even if they’re new here, they probably know each other really damn well. Which as we can tell you? Makes for a pretty fuckin’ awesome team.” Mike paused, polishing off her slice before picking up and folding another. John, used to the voracity of her appetite, watched nonplussed and then picked up the thread. “And so we aren’t going to take into account a number of things here. You haven’t teamed before? We all start somewhere. Liam Mason not being able to get any momentum going? Maybe Romeo joining him stateside is just the shot in the arm he needs. You’ve got our undivided attention. Our first appearance as this division’s champions will be a showcase event. A statement to any potential challengers.” “We may be the good guys, but we sure’s fuck ain’t softies. Actually… let me speak on that for a sec. See, we’ve come to the realization that some people around here think ‘good guy’ means you’re soft, fluffy, squishable, and roll over when somebody pokes you. Somewhere along the line, moral quality got equated to being a fuckin’ pushover.” John had finished his meal. As Mike spoke, he set the plate aside and watched her speak intently. He waited until she almost instinctively threw over to him. “That narrative is controlled by those in power. And this company is a microcosm of the world and all that it contains. Including that eternal struggle. History has repeatedly shown that those that crush people underfoot are also the ones who call for civility when their tyranny is resisted. I’ve seen it here. And NSFW will stamp it out. With extreme prejudice.” “See if there’s one thing we both can’t stand? It’s an unfair fuckin’ power balance. We don’t play that shit. We don’t fit in boxes, we tear boxes up. We don’t stand by while other people do or say horrible crap, we shut that shit down. That’s the sort of fuckin’ intensity we bring every time we step in the ring. Now, Los Amantes, you’ve been through thick and thin, but can you step up to that?” The penultimate slice of pepperoni was bitten into like aggressive punctuation. “This ain’t no battle royale, there ain’t no Muppets to goof around with, and this ain’t the bush leagues, kiddos. You are stepping in the ring on EWC’s flagship show with NSFW, the goddamn kings of this fucking division.” “We did what we said we would do and that was take what was ours. But we aren’t like Rob Garcia. We aren't going to hide in the bank while things sort themselves out. You two will put a good fight. We expect no less. But Los Amantes will not make their name off of our backs.” “Nobody will. Least of all you. We worked too damn hard and fought too damn long and payed too damn much in blood for anybody to bring us down, much less this fucking soon. Our match against Mucho Grande was close, but I won’t have nobody saying it was a goddamn fluke. We fought a long road of teams to get to this point- we’ll fight a longer road to show just how much we fuckin’ deserved it. You two just happen to be the first mile marker.” Mike finished off the entire pepperoni pie, and flagged down a passing waiter, ordering a dessert to split before turning her full attention back to her partner. “Don’t take that as a dismissal. As I said, Los Amantes has our full attention. Our critics say that we go out of our way to disparage the others in the division. No, we would never do that. We do however hold you to higher expectations. The days of being a tag team as something to fall back on when there just isn’t anything else going on - are over.” “Tag teaming is a fucking art form. Anybody joining the division hoping to coast by is gonna hit a brick wall really fucking fast, because we won’t allow it.” “And don’t think any of the others will either. The Limit? Vile. But a force of destruction.” “Freaks and Geeks Presents: The Foxy Ladies of Dream Sound Revolution, Live From Mr. Biggs’ Limo? A fuckin’ mouthful and a half to say, but a fuckin’ awesome pairing that just might wind up taking these belts from us one day.” “Mucho Grande! After last Monday, we know for a fact that they are the team they say they are. So Los Amantes? Will you join our esteemed ranks? Or will you be another Bulletproof?” The question was emphatically deadpan which was stretching pretty far for John’s range. Something about them, something he knew, irked his partner and so that dislike was shared in kind. “Oh fucking God, I don’t think anybody here is another goddamn Bulletproof. Are you? I sure’s fuck think better of you than that.” The waiter dropped briefly by the table, bringing the bill, a take-home box for Bishop’s uneaten pizza, and a slice of New York cheesecake with two clean forks. Mike handed one fork to Bishop and her card over to the waiter along with the bill, and the two oblige him a quick selfie before he heads off. “Los Amantes, we want you to step the fuck up. Give us a Nice Sweet Fucking Workout. Don’t disappoint us.”