#or i can just get a business minor. but in the same amount of classes i can basically get an extra degree so i probably should just do it

[fragilecqpricorn]

I just found out that it's not gonna be very possible for me to get an accounting and econ major at the same time if I want my CPA license by the time i graduate :(

[hoshigray]

hear me out🙏 imagine student body president!sukuna and delinquent!reader😍 same scenario but just switched

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i hear you, loud AND clear !!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: student body president! Sukuna x bratty delinquent fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and kuna are college seniors - oral (m! + slight f! receiving) - face + throat fucking - clitoral play (sucking) - impact play (cheek + pussy slaps) - fingering (f! receiving) - standing + piledriver positions - unprotected sex - overstimulation - dumbification - degradation (brat, cumslut, pig, slut, whore) - blackmail - dick piercing (frenulum) - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

If there’s one thing that Sukuna loves more than anything, it’s power.

For Sukuna, the pinnacle of power is not just a status but a destiny he believes is his alone. In his heart of hearts, he knows he is the one who can keep this school in check, his control palpable in every corner of the campus.

Having Ryōmen Sukuna as the student body president of the senior class was either the best or worst thing, depending on who was asked. Although intimidated by some faculty and professors, they saw him as a significant influence on maintaining the students’ behavior for the college’s image. As for his peers, some would vouch that he was the scariest person they've ever met within their college student’s behaviors on campus. As for the students…whether they made sure not to get in the salmon-pink-haired man’s way, did as they were told, or generally avoided getting in his bad side all around, the truth was known in the air: Sukuna is a force not meant to be reckoned with. 

So, dealing with people who stand in his line of power will be dealt with — especially brats like you.

You were the biggest thorn in Sukuna’s side, a true innocent fool who dared disobey him without fear of consequence. For one, you were such a disrespectful minx, always speaking to him with such a foul mouth as if his aura that frightens others doesn’t shake you down. You bat your eyes at him during his lectures, dumb doe eyes that flutter with dull eyelids as if not a single word from his mouth was processed in that mind of yours as you’ll just wound up doing the exact shit again within a week or less. You have no amount of respect for his superior status, treating Sukuna like some big shot. 

“Tah, you don’t scare me, Prez!” You mocked with a laugh. “You and your little tattoos can go somewhere and make the other babies piss their pants and leave me the hell alone. Mind your business and stay outta mine.”

God, to say you were insufferable was scratching the surface. Sukuna can admit that nothing in his last year of college would allow him to experience absolute euphoria than crushing that childish grin off your face. It’s all he can think about whenever he has the misfortune of seeing your name or catching your face in the halls on his way to lectures and meetings.

But then again, if he can’t discipline you in the way he wanted on school grounds, it doesn’t mean you’re safe from him on the outside.

And then, like a miracle to his prayers, he finally had the dirt to give him all the more motivation. His second in command, Uraume, had found some evidence of your inappropriate behavior on the school’s campus. Pictures and videos alike, his smile grew bigger the deeper he looked into it.

Images of you flashing your bare tits in what seems to be a party in one of the dormitories and some drunk guy motorboating your chest, another of you smoking weed in one of the laboratories, which were undoubtedly smoke-free, and one portraying you fingering yourself in while sucking off one of the basketball athletes in the gymnasium men’s locker room. And the cherry on top was explicit videos of yourself that would tarnish the school’s reputation and have you expelled in seconds — absolute music to Sukuna’s ears. 

The thought of destroying your image and exposing you to the filthy bitch you have put a spark of joy in the student body president’s cruel heart. But what would the fun be if he threw this evidence out all at once? He was a man who loved to drag out the torture of his victims. So, when he pulls you aside, to your dismay, and showcases the dirt he has on you, the look on your face? Not even a picture would be enough for him to enjoy such a glorious reaction. He never thought he’d see where you’d beg and plead to him on your knees, only fueling the superiority within his stance.

However, he likes to play with his food. So, he’ll put his hands up, “Alright, fine, I won’t take this to the higher-up…” yet the smirk didn’t match the comfort expressed. “On one condition.”

And for said condition? To use you and see your talents for himself.

“Damn, this mouth really knows how to work, huh?”

Oh, to be fucking your face in the student body government lounge isn’t something he’d expect. But holy shit, is he not fucking complaining. He throws his head back as his pelvis relentlessly smacks the plump of your soapy lips. His hands grabbed your head and forced you onto his length, which you were crying on like crazy.

Tears roll down your face; the harshness of his ruts sting like hell. You could only grip his jeans to steady, yet the more he bullies his dick into your throat, your train of thought becomes more impossible to follow through. 

He slaps your cheeks, “Pay attention, bitch,” he curses from above and yanking you by the ear. “Loosen that jaw of yours and suck me off like the cumslut you are.”

Your glare gratifies him, watching you obey his words and hollow your cheeks. Jesus, the tightness of your throat has shivers crawl to his shoulders.

“Mmmff! Mmmm!!” Your muffled whimpers were all his ears could pick up on, and they made him sigh heavenly. He peers down to meet such a naughty image: your lips coated in saliva and his precum bubbling and piling with every snap and pull of his hips. Your tears and furrowed brows gave him the hugest ego boost of his life, making the devilish superior push feverishly into your mouth. 

“—Mnnph! Yesss, yeah, that’s right; keep cryin’, you fucking brat.”  Fuck, he’s so fucking close; your mouth and tongue were doing mad work for him to release, busting his load into your throat and succumbing to you to drink and accept his semen.

Balls deep to your lips, saliva mixes with salty tears, striking down your chin. You swallow every bit of him with a satisfied hum, eyes rolling up when he grinds his pelvis for his dick to go deeper.

But that doesn’t mean you should rest — hell no. Sukuna rips his erect limb out of your mouth and pushes you to your back with a kick. You couldn’t interject as he pushed your legs to your chest. An exotic position that exposes the damp spot of your thong from your lifted skirt. 

The president tsks at the display with a sneer. “Fucking slut, so wet from just sucking me off.” He slides the underwear and is welcomes to your scent and taste when he glides his tongue to your clit. “You really are a fucking bitch in heat, huh?”

His tongue pets and laps around your labia, lubing your vagina with his spit while slurping your essence that messes around your inner thighs. You’re choked up, whining from his tongue fucking the entrance of you and licking your clit.

“—Ohoo! Hoohh, Sukunaa, pleaseee,” you slurred from the suck of your clit, his tongue pushing it and grazing his teeth with the delicate bud. “Hahhhfuckk, put it innn, ‘Kuna, I want—Daaahaa!!” You cried at the slap of your cunt, stinging your sensitive clit from the rough palm of his hand.

“Don’t tell me what to do, brat,” another smack to your slit as you cough up spit. “Such a broad, only thinking with just your pussy.” Although, he had to admit, seeing your pussy wink from his hits and teases made his pride sing. With a low chuckle, he straightens up, your anticipation climbing up when he brings his middle and forefinger to wet with saliva.

Yet a record scratches at the feel of something wet around your asshole, the digits pushing and teasing your puckered entrance. Begs fly out you’re mouth, but they substitute with a scream when his fingers manage to insert inside and massage around your walls.

“What, you thought I was just gonna play with that pussy like you wanted?” He laughs at your cries, stroking his ego from your anus, clamping onto him with the scrape of his fingernails. “You got some nerve; only dirty pigs like you get dirty rewards.” You gasp at the withdrawal of his fingers, and he whistles at the sight. “So here ya go, little slut…”

Sukuna aligns his cock to your rear, pushing it with no care for your lack of preparation. You scream at the insert of his cockhead and piercing, and the stretch that comes along his inches burrowing inside causes more tears to fall. But not in pain—the expression on your face showed no sign of resentment. 

“Haaahh, yeeesshh,” your hands come to the back of your ass to help the position you’re in, the angle making your writhing figure jolt. And it gets better once Sukuna’s hips go at a mediocre pace. “Shooo goood…!!”

Your hands find Sukuna’s ankles when his frenulum piercing jabs you with precision with the increase of his erratic thrusts. High pitches and shrieks fill the student body lounge, skin slapping against each other, creating an inappropriate sound. Like Sukuna cares, though; fucking your ass on the floor with no grace — so much for a president.

“—Khheh, hooohshiiit, pig can’t even speak properly, making such a ruckus.” It’s true; you showed no restraint in concealing your wails. If anything, they get louder and louder with the clasp of your butthole on his length, drool spilling from your agape mouth. “Noisy ass acting all dumb on my cock.” 

The graze of his piercing gets worse every second; shit feels way too good, like his balls smacking down your ass. But you couldn’t foresee his next move; Sukuna slipped his middle finger inside your chasm and wiggled around your vagina. A strong yelp erupts from your body from the “come hither” motion that scratches your upper walls, and you can’t help but let yourself go.

Your climax has you howling, your holes contracting with force from every passing wave that rocks your core. You pant heavily, milking the dick that continues to plunge into your ass, Sukuna groaning at the grasp of your anus and the walls around his middle finger. 

He then pulls his digit out and brings it to his mouth, sucking your liquids with a smirk. “Not bad, broad.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[acciojaeyun]

under the web | p.sh.

PAIRING. officemate!sunghoon x fem!reader

SUMMARY. there's something about the way people seemed to scurry about whenever park sunghoon from the IT department would be coming to whichever area of the office. that's something that would be all because of you, his lovely officemate. your constant teasing and mockery of that one thing you know about park sunghoon made it seem to reach the headlines, and park sunghoon was determined to let you know that you're not the boss here.

CONTENTS. smut, some angst, some fluff. smut with plot. not beta-read. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

SMUT WARNINGS. making out, humiliation, implied dom vs. dom dynamics, dirty talk, slight exhibition, curses, virginity, unprotected sex (please practice safe s), reader is a jealous menace (a bit stalker-ish), mentions of manga, mentions of other members, if i forgot some, lmk!

WORD COUNT. 4.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE. this will be my first ever sunghoon fic after a long while! i did take a hugeee slump after writing ( and had never been so inspired to write oneshots until now. and i'm such a sucker for glasses hoon and this is the product of it. thank you so much for reading! <3

MY LIBRARY. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

It was an annoying morning.

Or well, for you, it was annoying. For you had to witness a group of interns gushing over the "guy with rolled sleeves and glasses making his coffee," and you scoffed when they mentioned that he looked like an Americano drinker, which, in their words, made him more attractive.

You rolled your eyes, the guy that they were talking about never liked Americano. In fact, his black instant coffee had the same amount, if not more, of cream added to his stainless steel coffee tumbler.

How did you know about that, though?

One thing about you was that you knew Park Sunghoon very well. He was the Class Salutatorian of Batch 2023, bachelor's in Information Technology. It was pretty impressive, if you were to ask everyone else. Park Sunghoon was immediately hired by the company that you are working in, and while you can say that Sunghoon did deserve both the position and the benefits, you couldn't help but feel like he didn't deserve the attention men and women alike were pouring him.

Of course, if anything, it should be you showering him attention. But, you wouldn't do that. Not when you're Y/N Y/L/N. You're the darling of the company, the sweetheart, so to speak. Because even though you cannot be of the same level as that of talent, knowledge, and skill which Sunghoon possess along with his looks, you were a pretty hardworking person.

Being in the Marketing Department also had its hardships, and while you still pray for the day commoners stop shunning down your bachelors, you are able to supply yourself with your needs and wants just by exerting everything you've learned in business and people-speaking.

But there was something about Park Sunghoon that makes him your own thesis.

Your own skill in building relationships didn't seem to work on him as much as you had hoped. Okay, let's admit it, you had taken a liking into Park Sunghoon. The quiet IT Specialist that exuded looks that were enough to make women fall to their knees.

A little bit of chit-chat here and there, some subtle glances and light touches, you were still far from the starting line. Park Sunghoon still hadn't reciprocated at least a fraction of your advancement towards him.

And by now, you're almost as helpless as it could be as you're munching on your own lunch, eyes over the cubicle of the IT department, watching how Sunghoon eats his sandwich, gaze never leaving his computer as he typed in codes with his other hand.

"How's the thing with Mr. Cold guy doing?" Sunoo would nudge your side as he caught you staring at Sunghoon for the nth time today.

You rolled your eyes for the nth time today as well, "He's so annoying."

"Now, he's annoying? Please, Y/N, cut yourself some slack. You need to get humbled, too, you know?" The blonde boy laughed as he sipped on his coffee.

"I just don't know how he hasn't caught up on it yet," you groaned, stabbing your fork on the penne pasta that you had on your lunchbox, "I've been doing a lot! How come he's still oblivious!"

"That, or he knows and just doesn't want to do anything."

You furrowed your eyebrows at Sunoo, "What do you mean?"

"Please, you're practically throwing yourself at him, it's a miracle how he hasn't caught up on yet."

"Or, he's a virgin."

Sunoo laughed, "Maybe,"

A loud thud on your desk was heard throughout the department as you placed your lunchbox down, "I'll talk to him."

"Again?" Sunoo looked at you, bewildered. "And, while he's working?"

"What, can't he handle a little distraction?"

"With you almost pushing your boobs towards his face? I think not."

"You know what? Fuck you." You flipped your best friend off, making him laugh as he ate his tteokbokki happily, ready to see you in your downfall yet again.

You, on the other hand, were determined. Straightening your slacks and blouse, grabbing your laptop, you made your way over to the IT Department, greeting everyone along the way while making a beeline straight to Sunghoon.

"Hi," you greeted.

Sunghoon hummed, his eyes still not leaving his screen.

"I mean to come to you to help me with a feature on the application that we're using?"

The boy glanced at you, his chewing coming to a slow halt.

"What about it?"

"Oh, I was hoping that I can access the Network's files? I've forgotten my flash drive at home and I only have access to some of the files but it would be in Sunoo's disk."

Sunghoon flashed you an impressed look at your terms, at the bare minimum.

"It'd be against company policy to allow you to access other people's disks without their consent, Ms," Sunghoon cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "and besides, aren't you friends with Mr Kim, anyway? Why wouldn't you ask him directly?"

"Uh, well..." you trailed off, "well, Sunoo also has the copy of this file on his flash drive, and coincidentally, he has also forgotten it at home!"

The boy raised an eyebrow at you. He was not buying it, you thought.

But your thoughts were proven wrong as Sunghoon swivelled in his chair, clicking on the multiple tabs open until he had manipulated the system for the time-being upon your request.

Your hands glanced on his hands, so dainty, long, and pretty. You wondered how it would feel around your neck, or in your pussy.

"It'll be open only for your access, Ms," Sunghoon said, looking up at you, "I'll be resetting it to company's default after forty-five minutes. Would that be enough time for you to get your files?"

You nodded, "Yes, thank you,"

"Do you have anything else for me to help with?" Sunghoon looked at you with a raised brow, making you blush.

"N-No, not that I know of, thank you, Sunghoon," you smiled at him.

He merely nodded before opening his coding software, clearly blocking you out from all his senses as he returned to eating his sandwich and work.

You pursed your lips, inhaling a large breath as you excused yourself from his cubicle, greeting yet another group of people acknowledging your presence as you made your way out of their department.

You were not expecting what you are seeing.

Not at all.

Whatever it was, there seems to be a glitch in the system as you also had an access to Sunghoon's drive.

You see, it was not your fault you were a bit nosy over your crush. You had taken a liking in him, and maybe, you think, there may be some stuff about him in his drive that could let you know a little more about him.

If not him, then, maybe, technology, his trusted friend, could help you.

You've seen his curriculum vitae, all the data he's working with, his clients, as well as a folder of his personal stuff which included torrented movies.

You laughed, his degree really has his perks.

You were so close to clicking off the movie folder named "O", but as you clicked on the next folder, named "P," you gasped at the number of porn videos were downloaded into the folder.

And all of them had the same theme: office sex.

It maybe too much, but in your mind, it made sense, when you were noticing how each of the female partners had the same features as you. Smirking to yourself, you glanced a look at the IT Specialist, bingo.

Surprised would be an understatement when Sunghoon entered the pantry as he went through his usual routine: leave his things at his desk, make his creamy coffee, work, leave to buy Subway for lunch, work, leave at 5:30 PM sharp.

He was surprised when the first people in the pantry left as he entered the room, furrowing his eyebrows when he heard faint words such as, "porn," "boundaries," and "couldn't he have had downloaded it in his own laptop?"

Now, Sunghoon may have been overthinking. His quiet life at work was already enough for him. But there was something bugging him for the first time in his life as he placed water in his stainless cup, especially when after making his coffee, no one would even dare look at him as he made his way to his cubicle, men and women, alike, swivelling their chairs to move farther from him, as if he were a plague.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, it was getting to his nerves.

And if it weren't for Jake, his only friend in the department, who initially swivelled his chair away form Sunghoon, but then decided to swivel back as Sunghoon didn't even stand up for lunch, who told him about the rumours that spread about him, he wouldn't have known, and there was only one person who would have accessed his files.

You.

He snickered at the story Jake was telling him, and left Jake to his imagination whether the story was true or not, only giving him a shrug when the older did try to confirm to him.

"Believe what you want," Sunghoon responded, typing aggressively on his keyboard, "besides, I think you have, since you initially scooted away from me."

"Look, man," Jake scooted closer, whispering, "if it's not true, I could tell it to them, you know? I don't want them to think of you as some horny teenager who doesn't know about work boundaries."

"As if they're going to believe you," Sunghoon curtly responded before pressing a key harshly before looking at his friend, "if it came from Y/N, no one would even bat an eye at you."

"Y/N? Why her?"

"Only she had access to my files yesterday. Wouldn't it be too much of a coincidence if the story only spread now?" He chuckled, amused.

"So, it's true?"

Sunghoon shrugged again.

"Are you going to do something to address it?"

"Address it? What for? They already think I'm some horny dude, anyway."

"Well," Jake licked his lips, "just send me the stashes next time, too, okay?"

Sunghoon laughed.

Your plan was working.

A lot of people had taken their distances from Park Sunghoon. Making you think you're progressing at your plan to keep people away from him.

You can't help it. As long as there were hindrances in your way towards Sunghoon, you think there would be little chances to make your advances to him. You had yet to tell Sunoo, but you know that he was already aware of the rumour, and he would ask you about it after his client events.

So, while everyone had left Sunghoon alone in the pantry, that was your cue to enter the pantry. Making your way as calmly as possible to the counter as possible, you placed your food on the microwave, heating your breakfast as Sunghoon was stirring his drink in his cup.

"I never took you as the guy," you sighed, faking sympathy, getting more annoyed as you never got any reaction from the boy.

"I was expecting more from you, Mr. Salutatorian, I'm sure you know about policy since you were so high and mighty about it when I tried to get into Sunoo's files," you continued, watching his every reaction.

But he remained stoic. And that irked you.

You were about to open your mouth when the microwave had beeped, making you jump and take your food, frustrated over the fact that Sunghoon was ignoring you. Forgetting that it was still hot and you didn't retrieve the mittens beside it, you burned your fingers, finally getting Sunghoon's attention.

He discarded his coffee and immediately went his way over to you, grabbing a hold of your hand before examining your fingers, his eyes never leaving it as he tried to suck on it in attempts of both soothing the wound and seducing you.

Your breath hitched, making you look at him. What the hell was he doing?

"S-Sunghoon?"

He smirked at you as he pushed your fingers to his mouth, wetting your pointer finger with his warm tongue, only for him to retract it and swirl it on the tip of it.

"There's one menace between the two of us," Sunghoon whispered as he pulled away, leaning in to you, "and it's not gonna be you."

You let out a breath you didn't know you held as he pulled away and made his way out of the pantry.

Weeks later, you found yourself mad at Park Sunghoon.

Because after the incident at the pantry, he seemed to be hovering in your space more times than you would like. And while it did seem the best thing for you, it wasn't. For Sunghoon was not only hovering, but he made sure his presence was made known whenever he was around.

Holding on your waist, rubbing his crotch against your bum, rolling his sleeves whenever he knew you looked at him – while keeping his unbothered expression at his face.

Other than that, you were thinking he was losing his game as another person had suddenly took a liking into you. Food in carton boxes at your table by the morning you come in to work, and while you had hoped that it were him, your hopes were shut down as fifteen minutes after you had arrived from work, only had then Sunghoon, too.

Flowers were also hard to miss every week. There was a different flower every week, the whole department gushing whenever you grab a stem on your desk. And while you had hoped it was Sunghoon, again, you looked at his desk and see him in his natural habitat: working and face straight to the computer.

By this time, you had grown infuriated. Because you felt like he was toying with you. Especially when he was not paying you any attention at the Thanksgiving Party your office had held after reaching more than the targeted quarterly sales, and it was because of you! Why wasn't he giving you any attention?

Blame it on the alcohol in your system, and your innate drive to prove something to Sunghoon, a trait of yours that you have acquired overtime, you made your way towards the guy who was alone at the bar, nursing his on the rocks with his finger dancing around the rim of the glass.

"Aren't you going to congratulate me?" you spat, annoyed.

Sunghoon turned on his seat, smirking at you, "For being the best employee?"

"What else!"

He chuckled, taking a sip on his drink, "Congratulations, princess,"

You scoffed, "That's it?"

He grinned, "What, you'd want me to kneel for you?"

You were stunned. "You know what? Whatever, Sunghoon, I feel like I'm just a game to you, anyway."

And maybe that's what did it for Sunghoon, because the moment you uttered those words, you found yourself being pulled by your wrist outside of the ballroom you were in by none other than Park Sunghoon himself.

"Let go of me, Sunghoon!" you said as you tried to escape from his grasp.

But Sunghoon did not budge, he was determined on making you regret what you say. He pushed the fourteenth floor button, the floor where he was staying, and even though it took quite a while to get to the floor, Sunghoon didn't even try to lay his hands on you, it was better for him to do it on his bed, anyway.

Because you deserved it.

The moment the elevator doors opened, you found yourself being pulled to his room, with heavy breaths as he discarded his suit jacket on the couch, he turned around and met you in a passionate kiss, surprising both you and Sunghoon.

Ah, if there was one thing you didn't know about Sunghoon? Was the fact that he was a virgin. He never had any relationships in the past, and it had only been you whom he was very attracted by. So, it was bound to happen, perhaps. Sunghoon giving you his virginity in the hopes of you reciprocating his feelings.

But Sunghoon was a realistic man, of course, he knew that he was just your own entertainment. Having a lot of suitors here and there, he knew he had to step up his game.

That meant, letting you see through his drive because he was scared of doing the first move of asking you out on a proper date, because everyone was always first in doing so.

A few occurrences later, Sunghoon had decided on levelling his courtship up by bringing you food to your table the moment he gets to work. His bag still on his hand as he ordered your favourite meal as he sped placing it on your table before making his coffee.

Sunghoon had started realising that you liked flowers, so he had brought it upon himself to at least give you flowers every week, keeping it anonymous before he finally musters enough confidence to tell you that it was him who was giving you the gifts.

Not Jake, not Jay, and most certainly not Heeseung.

So, he hopes he had translated all of his misunderstood feelings into the kiss, cupping your jaw as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, swallowing the moan that you had blessed him.

"You drive me so fucking crazy, Y/N," he groans into the kiss, "accusing me of playing with you when you were the one who started this in the first place." He trails off, his lips pressing onto your mouth up and down before stopping by the skin near your collarbones for him to suck.

You let out a whimper, too lost in the feeling of his lips on your skin, "You drive me so fucking crazy, too," you start, letting your head fall back to have the boy kiss more of your skin, "I don't know what's on your mind most of the time." Sunghoon had found your sweet spot below your ear, making you gasp.

The boy hummed, wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling your body flush against his, slowly rolling his hips forward so you could feel his hard cock pressed against you, "Well, it's about time you know that you take over the expanse of my mind, princess."

You were already soaking wet at this point, basking in how Sunghoon looked today, you swear you could feel yourself salivating over how he presents himself. You pull his face away from your neck, locking your lips in an uncoordinated kiss. "I need you, Sunghoon."

Sunghoon groaned, kissing you for a moment longer before abiding to his girl's needs. His cock was aching, and you needed him. It was time to cut the chase.

"My needy little slut," Sunghoon growls as he teased you by rubbing your clit over your panties, and when he slid his hands through her folds, he was met by pleasing wetness, making him chuckle, "You've been trying to fool everyone with how much of a sweetheart you are, angel," he hummed, rubbing his nose on the crook of your neck, "but you really are a menace. Wanting her Sunghoon to give all of his attention to her,"

"Y-Yes," You moaned, grinding your hips on his fingers, "M-My Sunghoon,"

And when he motions to remove his glasses, you tap his wrist and shook your head, making him realise you never want his glasses off, making him chuckle.

"You liked hearing it, don't you?" Sunghoon inquires as he pushes you to the bed, pulling you over the edge of it as he bites on your panties, pulling it down to pool on your ankles, "You love the idea of me being yours, don't you, Y/N?" He smiles as he sinks his finger in you, curling as you clench around you.

"Yes, I do - shit, Sunghoon!" You managed to say, "I did everything because I only want you! Only you!"

Sunghoon docks his head in between your thighs to hide the blush creeping to his cheeks before pressing hot kisses into the expanse of your inner thighs, fluttering light kisses as his lips made its way to your folds, kissing it before he gives kitten licks to your bud.

Your back arches, satisfying Sunghoon with his little experimentation. He, then, soon, pushes another finger in as he started swirling his tongue on your clit, alternating between licking his tongue flat from your hole up to your clit, making you thrash your legs everywhere.

He moaned when you clamped your legs around his face, urging him to continue his movements, "M' close, Hoon," you whispered, one of your hands leaving the sheets to tangle in his newly-cut hair, and with one more curl of Sunghoon's fingers, you were already tumbling over the edge, your cries of his name falling from your mouth.

"God, you're so beautiful, Y/N," Sunghoon whispers as he cleans you off with his tongue, and when he was done, he pushes himself up as he unbuckles his belt and removes his trousers, discarding the article at some part of the room.

"I wanna ride you," You confess, making Sunghoon blush again, "oh, are you... is this your first time?" You asked, your eyes widening slightly as Sunghoon replied with a nod.

Your heart almost burst at his confession, making you sit up and pull him into a slow kiss, "I want to see how you'd look so damn sexy sitting on my cock, Y/N," Sunghoon breathes, "but I want- I need-"

"Take your time with me, Hoon."

A breath escapes you when Sunghoon finally gets you out of your dress, his hands immediately pinching at your nipple. And without another word, Sunghoon lifts your leg and lines himself to your entrance. And with a heavy breath in, he pushes in slowly, the roll of his hips feeling delicious until he's fully buried inside you, low moans heard throughout the room.

"I, fuck, Y/N," Sunghoon starts, groaning instead as you clench around him. Sunghoon hovers over you, his arms on either side of your head before resting his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes, "God, I love you so much, Y/N."

Before Sunghoon ever regrets he had confessed out of nowhere, you had already pushed your lips on his hungrily, meeting his thrusts, you let out a whine as Sunghoon placed your legs over his shoulders, reaching deeper of you, the same time he rubs slow circles on your clit in time with his harsh thrusts.

"God, you feel so fucking amazing, Y/N," he breathes, earning a chuckle from you as you say, "You're fucking me so good, Hoon,"

Sunghoon smiles at your continuous use of his nickname, before his eyebrows furrow as he lets out a breathless moan as he hit your g-spot, making you squeal, "Jesus, I'm not gonna last much longer!" you say, and you were quick to wrap your legs around his waist, aiming to feel him closer.

"Me either, darling," he whispers, "come with me, please?"

And with a few more thrusts, you feel yourself coming on him, your toes curling, back arching, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head, as your nails rake down Sunghoon's back from his nape. Your walls clench around his cock, making him also reach his climax. He cuts your moans as Sunghoon pulls you to him for a hungry kiss as he empties himself in you.

He slows his thrusts down as he helps you come down from your highs, his lips attached again to your jaw down to your neck, peppering light kisses. And sooner, Sunghoon pulls out and rolls onto his back, his arms around your waist to make you roll on top of him.

A silence was heard in the room as you mindlessly traced irregular shapes on the expanse of Sunghoon's pale skin. He feels like his heart is about to explode from mixed emotions, having the girl of his dreams on top of him, his virginity in your hands – but, at the end of the day, he's unsure about your feelings for him.

However, one thing's for sure: you were all Sunghoon had ever wanted and needed, no matter how much the world can prevent him from doing so.

"I mean every word I said," Sunghoon whispers, kissing your hair, a silent affirmation to the thousand words running in your head.

You giggled, "I feel like I'd look good bouncing on your cock, too, Sunghoon."

"N-Not that.." Sunghoon blushed, "I am really crazy for you, Y/N, but you know, we could just pretend it never happened and think this is a one time thing."

"That's so unfair of you," you say, looking up and leaning your chin on his chest, "because I'd rather have you bringing over lunch and flowers every time if that meant having you every day."

Sunghoon visibly relaxed, smiling at you warmly, "So, it's forever."

"It is."

© acciojaeyun, 2024.

[joosthead]

SMUT PROMPT 2 PLZZZ

just too soft for all of it || j.k. f!reader

₊˚⊹⋆ prompt(s): 2S) crying crying during sex that leads to a pause or early end to comfort and take care of whatever emotions bubbled over & 3F)  gently pushing their hair behind their ear to see their face better

₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader, no pronouns, reader gets referred to as his “favourite girl” one time. notfamous!reader lol also does not speak dutch

₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 4.4k

₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (fingering, piv), a good amount of negative self thought (i may have gone overboard—feeling inadequate as a partner, reader is very hard on themself and quite sensitive), mentions of anxiety/stress/being overwhelmed, a very fluffy and healthy joost :( aur i love him anyways, pls heed the prompt cuz that in itself is a content warning teehee, 🧀🧀🧀alert i can’t lie!!, a variety of dutch terms of endearment i'm not sure i’m using right but it’s for the sake of no y/n

₊˚⊹⋆ track of the fic: "sweet nothing" by taylor swift

₊˚⊹⋆ junote: i resonate heavy with this 🙃🙃 had the worst last few weeks of this uni year but i’m FREE!!!! thanks for requesting this, i combined this with a few other asks stated above! happy first juno joost fic to meee yippeee

rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it!! you've been warned. please do not repost this on any other platform.

18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni.

To say the utter least—it had been a hard few weeks for you. 

The whims of life carried you away like a tsunami to your normal routine—work and classes and friends and family and life, life that you couldn’t ignore or get away from like you wanted to do, nothing to do except doing it. And you’d been doing it, just fine for the most part, but one thing led to another, and the last week was a whirlwind of commitments, obligations, your procrastinating on all of them, somehow. You got yourself into a mess of your own making. 

It certainly didn’t help that your boyfriend, Joost, was away for his own life: a festival performance in Canada, one in Belgium, one in the Netherlands but not one you could attend easily with all of the work you had for yourself. After that, he worked on the new album in Germany, putting the final touches on his 9th project, filming new content and preparing for his upcoming tour. 

He left around the beginning of when your life started getting busier. If you added it up—23 days you hadn’t seen him in person, but it’s not like you were counting (you were counting, and sad the entire time about his absence.). It felt like the same amount of time you hadn’t even seen or talked to him, through the phone, on Facetime, even texting each other.

Voice memos in the bathroom at work, always apologizing for how rushed you had to be; leaving him on delivered for hours as you studied, or had an event you needed to be at, or had a person you needed to talk to, someone else who needed your time more than Joost needed yours, and it was too much. All of it was too much. Too much for you to handle easily, every second taken by someone else. 

You felt like a terrible partner, not being able to speak to him as much as you wanted. Seeing all of his messages, the reassurance that he understands how busy you are and that in the end, you'll always make time for each other…his ability to be such a good partner held up next to your perceived inadequacy made you even more stressed. 

In the end, it’ll all work out—today, Joost flew back home, though you still had a number of commitments and assignments to get to and couldn’t pick him up from the airport. Your mutual friend picked him up, and you bit your nails at every update given; willing the time to go slower so you could tidy up more, work on that one last piece of paperwork so you wouldn’t have to worry about it, make sure everything is perfect so Joost can have a good welcome back.

In the nick of time, you were able to get everything done, but it still felt as if there was something missing, like you'd be hit with a missed deadline in the midst of your time back together, and it would all come crumbling down. 

As you opened the door, right as your friend pulled up to your street, you tried to put it aside, and you did—for now. Late afternoon and you stand at the top of your townhouse steps, watching in nervous excitement as Joost unloads his luggage from the trunk. Your friend closes the trunk and waves at you.

You wave back, but your eyes are on Joost as he gathers the two suitcases and starts rolling them to you in a sort of disorganized frenzy, just as excited as you are; you would come forward and help, but it’s cute to watch him, clumsy and stumbling over his long pants and tote bag and everything—your Joost, finally back with you. 

He wears a heavy black jacket, sunglasses, a black cap that he takes off and shakes his hair out of; the sun shines off him, and you can't help but smile at the sight. His hair grew out a little, the darker blonde roots growing in. Those jeans are ones you’ve never seen before, new glasses, new clunky boots that look greatly uncomfortable but perfectly his style. Evidence of the time passed, and for some strange reason, it brings a pang to your chest that you try to ignore as you come down the steps of your house. 

“Come here, come here, come here, baby, I missed you,” Joost exclaims, arms open and leaving his bags behind him to come meet you halfway, laughing. 

You say as you hug him around his neck, his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t pick—” 

“Don’t worry about it, I know you were busy.” 

You nod as he moves his arms around your neck and you go around his waist, Joost pecking your cheek several times and making you laugh. “I still feel bad I couldn’t pick you up.”

“Never feel bad, you’d still be the best even if you left me on the side of the road.” You give him and his compliment a weak smile as you pull away. 

—

The first time you get a moment to yourself in a month: Joost’s head lays in your lap as you both watch some cartoon on the couch together after eating. 

You cleaned most of yesterday and some of today; you cooked most of last night since you knew you had more time, preparing Joost’s favorite meal—it was the best you could reasonably do, considering all of the other obligations you had in these last two days. 

As he ate, you pushed around your own food; would’ve made it fresh, could've had a nice table setting for dinner, should’ve prepared more for all of this. You still gave him a sheepish smile as you watched him happily eat the microwaved meal you warmed up for him, no indication at all that he’s disappointed or unhappy like you are with yourself. You shouldn’t feel like this, but you do. It’s getting increasingly difficult to shake. 

The colors and lines dance across the TV, spouting raunchy jokes that you can half understand with the few years of Dutch you have under your belt; the air conditioner is on, and you can finally rest. Joost is changed out of his airport outfit and into some shorts and a shirt. He’s home, and you did the best you could do, and now he’s in your arms again. 

You don’t even mean to, but you sigh, perhaps louder than usual, because Joost looks up at you from your lap, brushes a lock of your hair out of your eyes, says, “You’re the best, you know?” 

It catches you off guard enough that you shake your head almost instinctively, not fast enough to hide…whatever feeling this is you’re feeling. “I don’t feel like it, Joosty.” 

“You don’t?” He gets up from your lap, sitting next to you, and brings his face close to yours. “You should, because you are.” 

Your noses are brushing, and even in the midst of your racing thoughts, you can't help but smile at him. His face grows into a smile, and you come forward and kiss him, deeply; you know it takes him by surprise, how he takes a little to kiss back, like trying to learn each other again. Nonetheless, he kisses back, holding your face in his hands, grinning into it—he's so pleased, so content, you know it by how sweetly he holds you. 

The TV becomes background noise to you, the air conditioner no use with how hot you feel when you move to sit atop him in his lap, one of his hands on the small of your back, the other on your ass as you grind down on him, licking into his mouth. 

“You're so tense,” Joost says when you pull away, thumbs rubbing into your back where there are sure to be knots in your muscles. 

You roll your eyes. “Can you blame me?” you snicker and he smiles. 

“I’ll relieve some tension for you, then.” 

Nothing but a few layers of clothes separate you—he smells so good, tastes so good, feels so good that you pull away, run your hands underneath his shirt, feeling his warm body, his stomach. You move to take it off of him, and he’s a step ahead of you, taking it off himself and attaching his lips to yours again, like a magnet. 

“You’re not wasting any time,” he says as you rest your hands on his chest and kiss down his stubble covered jaw to his neck, on top of Lola Bunny and back up again. 

“I need you, Joost,” you breathe in between kisses, and he pulls back and groans which makes you giggle, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“You can't just say that, oh my god,” Joost whines, looking up at you pathetically, pupils blown and lips swollen from yours. “That’s so hot,” he laughs, and it makes you laugh too, how ridiculous he is. “Fuck, I love you.” He comes back in for one more kiss before he shifts so you can lay down on the couch, and he's on top of you, kissing again. He helps you shimmy down your shorts, your underwear, and in no time—his hand is between your legs.

“I would have taken it slow but—I’m too excited,” he breathes. You palm his hard cock through his shorts, coaxing a sigh out of him. Joost hovers above, leaning on one elbow and using the other hand to run his fingers through your slit, wetting them with how aroused you are. Involuntarily, your legs twitch, your breath catches in your mouth, and Joost gives you a soft laugh. “You’re so sensitive, schat.” Fingers still touching you so gently, he noses at your cheek—you’re a hairpin trigger, how reactive you are to him. “Has it been that long?” 

Breathless, you nod as he presses his thumb to your clit, petting at it. “Too long, I was waiting for you.”

“I could say the same for you.” 

You sit up, pushing up against him, still kissing like you can’t bear to be separated from him, but he pulls back from you—brings two fingers to his mouth, wetting them with his spit, and the sight brings your heart to your stomach with how arousing it is. 

Sure, Joost sends videos; yes, you have…homemade…videos of your own between the two of you; his deep voice through the speaker in your late night Facetimes, talking you through it or his incessant compliments when you send him some pictures of your own. 

Nothing compares to the real thing—the smell of his cologne on his collar even after he’s taken a shower; his blonde hair in your eyes as he kisses you; holding onto his strong arms as he fingers you, the wet sound music to your ears though normally, it would make you sheepish at how filthy this all is.  

Sometimes it makes you laugh that the random guy you met with a Crazy Frog tattoo on his forearm is now your boyfriend, but it feels so serious now more than ever. You realize now how much you’ve missed him, and how much you’ve pushed down that feeling in favor of everything else. 

Joost crooks his fingers inside of you and you moan into his mouth, which he smiles at. “You like it?” he asks, both of you knowing the answer. He knows you so well, inside and out. Knows that spot inside of you that renders you unable to speak, how to hit it just right like it’s muscle memory to fuck you with his fingers. He rubs your clit at the same time, using his spit and your wetness to do so, and God—you wish never leaving this spot was an option. 

Your climax fast approaches you; Joost kissing at the side of your lips, your chin because you’re too lost in your pleasure to kiss back. With a few more pumps of his fingers, he brings you there, a choked moan tumbling from your mouth as you cum, almost falling into him as he takes you through the last waves of your orgasm. “Thank you,” you breathe, pressing a deep kiss to his lips again now that you have the ability to. 

“Thanking me? Nothing to thank me for,” he says, but you shake your head.

“I disagree,” you say quietly, palming over his erection once more now that you’ve gathered yourself. “I have everything to thank you for,” you think, but can’t say out loud. You move so you can be on your knees on the ground in between his legs. It’s been quite a bit, enough so that the program on the TV is completely different now, the AC has turned off—he’s still so hard, still hasn’t been taken care of.

You're about to lower his shorts, take him into your mouth, but Joost takes your hand and says, “Can we skip it? I wanna be inside of you, lieverd.” 

Almost a whisper, you reply, “Whatever you want,” nodding, and he cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“You’re so quiet today. Is anything wrong?” He can read you like a book, the furrowing of your brow at his suggestion an easy giveaway. 

“Nothing’s the matter,” you lie, but he still looks disbelieving. “I just wanted to give you something back.”

“This is something back and more, baby. Lie down.” 

You do, too tired to argue for your side—the side that wants to give Joost everything you have and more, pay him back for the time you’ve been so absent, so distracted from your relationship and all the things Joost had been doing in the time away. It’s not as if you don’t want to lie down and have him fuck you—it’s just that you feel that you haven’t earned it yet. 

Your body language gives you away—“Still so tense, lieverd,” he says, squeezing your shoulder as you adjust, legs on either side of his thighs. “You sure you want to do this?” 

“Of course I do,” you purr, because of course you do, reaching into his briefs—Joost Klein branded, of course—and pulling his cock out, jerking it a few times and making him groan with the sensation. “You're so sensitive,” you quote him from earlier. “Has it been that long, schat?” 

The pet name makes his cock twitch; a month away, hard work on his album and music videos, content and marketing, coming back home to his favourite girl gazing at him starry-eyed with a hand around his dick and ready to take him inside. If you peered into his mind, this is what he’d be thinking. No thoughts match your worried thinking about how you may or may not have let him down—you didn’t. That would be impossible, at least to him. 

“Much too long.” 

You rest your head on a throw pillow that Joost has laid for you, and he lines himself up with your entrance. Fingertips on his stomach, you stop him for a few seconds from coming forward, and you wrap your hand around his shaft, swiping it through your slit a few times, collecting your wetness and his pre-cum on the head of his cock.

Loudly, he swears in Dutch, and the latter half sounds more like a strangled whisper than any real word. “You…fuck, my god…you are evil,” he laughs, even though he’s now rubbing the head of it against your clit, making you mewl. 

“You ready for me?” he asks, and you nod, licking your lips, trying to control your breathing. Your initial apprehension is long gone, though it could creep back every second—who cares? You’re finally together again. “You’re so wet,” Joost breathes as he eases the head of his cock into you. The stretch is something to get used to after so long away, but he gives time for you to adjust—seems like he might need it more than you do, how he sucks a breath in through gritted teeth, the snail’s pace he's going at. “I might cum right now.” 

“You promise?” you tease, watching the slow slide of his cock inside of you, watching just like he is. 

“I might have to promise with how this is going.” 

“You can do it,” you giggle and then moan because he's managed to fit half of his length into you. “I believe in you.” 

“Yay,” Joost smiles as he bottoms out in you, then gives you a kiss. “We did it!”

He holds his hand up for a high-five and you laugh—”I’m not high-fiving you while you're inside me.” 

“When has that ever stopped you before?”  

Rolling your eyes, you give him the high-five he so desperately wants and he beams at you with a toothy grin. “Never, I guess.” 

“Never,” Joost repeats, and then straightens up. You look up at him through your eyelashes—his mullet is mussed from the tangles of your fingers through his hair, his chest moving steadily up and down with the exertion of this all.  He moves your legs so your left ankle rests on his shoulder, the right wrapped around his hips. 

His hand creeps up your shirt, and you do the rest, exposing your tits to him. Joost is normally so clumsy, so heavy-handed—what a contrast that he can be so calm dragging his fingertips around your nipple, making it pebble in the cold.

He cups your cheek after you moan, then runs his tattooed knuckles down it, slips his thumb between your lips and hooks it on your teeth momentarily—you chase  it, but he continues down your chest and to your belly until his thumb is finally back on your clit and circling it slowly. 

The drag of his cock out of you is wonderful, so wonderful it makes you shudder when he does it, combined with his terribly slow treatment of your clit.

“My baby, did you miss me?” Joost says softly, kissing at your calf, your ankle as he sinks back into you. The sensation robs you of a response, a sigh tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop it, but he takes it as a response enough.  The smile on his face—the beauty mark under his lip, those deep dimples so prominent—you could never tire of it. “I missed you more, schatje.”

It feels so good, it feels like heaven being with him again. He comes back from such a busy time in his life, where you’ve done little, and all he has is praise and warmth and affection for you—fingers you within an inch of your life and doesn’t even ask for anything in return, just takes care of you in the way you need most. 

You know that he benefits from this just as much as you do—this isn’t so one-sided. But your brain is so frazzled from this last month, the nerve endings fried and in want of a fuck up to cling to like they have been whenever you’ve made a mistake at work, in class, in your relationship. 

Joost interrupts your thoughts: “I was so happy to see you on the steps, I could’ve sprinted to you if I wasn’t wearing those damn shoes.”

All of the times that you forgot to reply to Joost, getting a text saying your name and a sad face right after; the times where you were too distracted to give him your full attention and could only hum your acknowledgement to him, having to be reminded about what he said later; that one time just a few days ago you fell asleep on call with him in the middle of him excitedly speaking about a breakthrough with a bridge on the most important song of the album. 

The pleasure you felt earlier is now overshadowed by your racing thoughts. 

“I wrote a song about you, you know?” Joost says, his voice so gentle. I was only going to let you know when the album came out, but I can’t keep a secret.” Rocking against you, his pelvis rubs against your clit and it makes you cling to his shoulders. “The voice memo I sent you earlier—it was my first draft, just me. Did you like it?” 

“You…you wrote a song about me?” 

Only now do you remember the voice memo Joost sent you in the morning when you were still cleaning, the one that you saw and made a fleeting mental note to reply to later on, which you promptly forgot as you vacuumed, dusted, folded. 

Such misplaced priorities, and now you're paying the sad price.

“Joost,” you say, eyebrows screwing up, that all too familiar pulling feeling behind your nose and eyes—you realize quickly that all of the emotions bottled up inside of you from the past month have come out with vengeance at the new knowledge of Joost’s song about you. The knowledge wouldn’t have been new if you just paid more attention. 

You try to hold it back, pushing down the feelings again, but it just won’t work. All of it spilling over at the worst possible time, tears streaming down your face before you even know it. You fail to wipe the wetness from your cheeks—Joost stops his movements, asks in a panicked and concerned voice, “Oh my—are you crying, schat?”

Attempting to pull it together once more, you cover your face with your hands and shake your head silently, but your already sniffly nose sells you out. Your shoulders shake with your crying. Too far gone now. 

“I wanted—“ you sniffle, and he hands you a tissue from the side table for you to blow your nose into as he stumbles out and off of you. “I wanted to be with you tonight, but I just—so much—I never—I never listened to your memo, I couldn’t, I had to finish so much before you got here and I couldn’t and I feel so bad, like, you wrote a song about me and I didn’t even have the time to listen—” 

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Joost coos, brushing your hair out of your eyes as you sob. “Baby, please.” His expression is so concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he pats your back. “Wait, shit,” he says, getting up from the couch and looking down at his still bare bottom half. “Let me put everything back on, I’m sorry schatje, give me—“ In a hurry, he puts his underwear and shorts back on, tripping over himself and almost falling over. “I just can’t do this naked, I’m sorry.” 

That brings a laugh out of you and a laugh out of him, and you start explaining as he sits back down next to you, rubbing your arm. “I don’t—I don’t deserve you.” You shake your head, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. “I should’ve listened to what you sent me, I should’ve been there more.” 

“Bro,” he deadpans, beckoning you to come and sit on his lap. 

You do, still trying to get the tears out of your eyes as you settle into his arms. “Shut up, don’t call me bro while I’m crying,” you laugh, voice weak but lighthearted.

“Bro. I will do it again.” Joost gives you a second to let it out more, to breathe as he smooths his hands back and forth on your back. “You did everything perfectly, lieverd. Perfectly. We were both so busy, and you still made time to call me and text me. I would have been lost without you, I know for certain.” 

You shake your head. “I forgot to reply and pick up your texts so many times, Joost, I felt like such a bad person for doing so.” 

“You did? I didn’t notice. All I cared about was that you replied.  You’re not a bad person at all,” Joost says, and the sweetness of his words just make you want to cry more. “I appreciate more from you the effort that you put into everything, into what we have. Not what you couldn’t or didn’t do.” 

“You’re so nice,” you whisper, sniffling. You can’t think of a better compliment with how overwhelmed you are, so you kiss him, instead, and he kisses back. Even with this, you can tell how gentle Joost is holding your cracked pieces back together. 

“I’m nice?” he asks, smiling. “Best compliment I’ve ever gotten.” For a little, you both sit there in the silence together. “How about this—tomorrow, we can have a day to ourselves. You can lounge and study by the pool, and I’ll be your little butler or whoever and we can just relax for a bit, hm? Order food, drink, smoke, whatever.” Pausing, he grins. “We can even listen to the whole album, if you want.”

“You finished it?” you ask, sitting up more and incredulous. That’s complete news to you.

“This morning, right before I flew back here,” Joost says, nodding proudly. “I also texted you, but duty calls, no?” 

“You texted me?” He texted you? And you missed it?!?!? Again, the new information makes you cry, and he holds you tight as you do. “You should be mad that I didn’t see it,” you say in between dry heaves into his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.” 

“I could never be mad at you, lieverd, and I’m sorry I made you cry again,” he says, rubbing your back, petting your hair. “I just wanted to let you know when I did it—it was just a timestamp, that doesn’t mean you needed to know right that second.” 

“But I wanted to know.” 

“You know now, and I know how proud you are of me. That’s enough, that’s even more than what I wanted.” You trust him and his words so fully, every passing second with him is another way to help you feel better. “I love you,” Joost says your name so seriously, a punctuation to his love letter. “I mean it.” 

“I love you too.” You kiss him, deeply, moments passing that you use to thank everything you can that he’s so good with your worries, your anxieties. “I’ll take you up on that offer for tomorrow, Joost,” you say, finally calmed down enough. Your eyes are incredibly bleary—you didn’t know that was possible. But at least you aren’t actively crying anymore. “Thank you for everything.” 

“Thank you for giving me something more to look forward to, schat. Now—let’s go run a bath together and listen to my song for you.” 

[glotoru]

SHE’S MY COLLAR. eren jaeger

── eren knows you, he can deal with you; but sometimes, your obsessions can be too much, even for him.

content contains : nerdy!eren x dumb!gf so real, reader is needy and obsessed with eren, nsfw, unprotected sex, riding, dumbification, ‘just the tip’ moment, size kink kinda, slight cervix kissing, dick drunk reader & pussydrunk eren, creampie. wc: 2.2k. minors do not interact thanks &lt;3

god, you’re annoying sometimes.

unfortunately, you can never seem to realize that your boyfriend is a busy person—or anyone, really, for that matter. it’s like you believe everyone is just as carefree as you; leaving things up to the ‘fate of the universe’ and ditching responsibilities to constantly hang out with eren, essentially leaving him to deal with your eccentricity and fixations.

and it comes as no surprise to learn that he just happens to be the latest one.

it’s different from your other ones—they were much easier. because he could simply just take you to the nearest parlour and buy you scoops and tubs of your favourite ice cream, or spend his latest internship check on your wardrobe and be done with it for a favourable amount of time. but with this? you’ve been as insatiable as they come.

eren can count on two hands how many times you’ve begged him, with tears clumping your dark lashes and patchy mascara, to get away from assignments, studying, classes—even work—just to come see you in the past week. and of course, they all ended the same way; with swollen lips, limbs sore from how you held your legs to your torso as he rutted his hips into the fat of your ass, your messy cunt full of his cum, and both his face and sheets stained with your juices. he doesn’t doubt he’s been shooting blanks for the last few times, too.

but still, the worst part about it all is the fact that he just can’t bring himself to say no to you—despite all of his damned efforts to do so.

“‘ren, you should pay attention to your girlfriend.” you groan, neck curling backwards as you crane your head up to look at him. you’re planted near his left leg as he works away at the desk in his bedroom, completely ignoring your words while pages of code reflect on his glasses. “i don’t wanna sit down here anymore.”

‘i’ve been paying attention to you all week’, he wants to say—but would rather opt for the regular ‘im busy’ rather than anything else that could potentially hurt your feelings. and eren knows you’re immune to it, how if you had a dollar for every time those words left his mouth, you’d be fucking millionaire most likely—but he does it anyways.

it’s laughable, how you offered to sit there yourself as opposed to his lap because he said you would distract him if you did. yet here you were still doing the same thing; looking up at him with that subtle pout and eyes full of adoration of some sort—the kind that has his dick swelling at an embarrassingly quick rate.

“can you take a break? i miss you s’much it hurts.”

eren recognizes the drag in your voice in almost a second. as if uttering a silent prayer, he keeps his breath in the tunnel of his throat when you lazily hug him, hardened nipples brushing against his bare leg through the thin fabric of your tank top. he knows he’s taking you for granted. shit...just how many guys would pay money for this sight; the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on asking him for attention. in all honesty, you’re not the best influence, but it’s gruelling trying not to give in to you.

“fine.” the four letter word is all you need as an invitation to jump from the seat near his chair and into his legs, which widen just a teeny bit for your comfort as you straddle him.

the feeling of your arms wrapped around Eren’s slender waist whilst burying your head in his chest burns through his clothing and into his skin. instead of focusing on how your acrylics gently rake up and down his back, he chooses to open up his phone, mindlessly swiping between different page screens and periodically opening up the ‘settings’ which seem to be so important.

honestly, you just needed to be close to him; close enough to bunch his shirt in your hands while you get a whiff of his body soap and cologne—the same one lingering in your apartment, your clothes, everything. but ugh, his scent alone isn’t capable of grant your contentment; you need him inside of you—his muddled moans flowing into your mouth as you tangle your fingers within his hair, the way his brows pull together when he frantically rubs and your clit, desperate to get you crying for him.

the thought of him alone is more than enough to get you off, and just for a moment you forget eren’s there. too stuck in your head and up in the clouds, you fail to notice the way your body subconsciously rocks itself on his lap, arms tightening in the embrace as you tense from the slight stimulation to your cunt.

and eren. . .he watches with wide eyes full of surprise, his phone falling to the floor with a thud. there’s no other way to describe the sight other than pretty—your eyes are squeezed shut with fickle breaths and lips jutted out into a pout; the same pout you give when it’s just not hitting right. but he can feel all of you rubbing against his crotch, even the damp spot forming on the centre point of his grey sweatshorts.

fuck, he concludes that you must not be wearing anything under the satin shorts hugging your legs. sooner or later, you’d be the death of him.

eren jaeger: death by pussy.

doesn’t sound too bad, considering what he knows he’s in for.

“i need it eren, can’t cum without it.” you ramble the same words that you’ve been saying for the last week, eyes glossed over when you look up at his flushed face. when he tries to speak, you’re quick to cut him off, “just the tip, promise—i promise…”

eren’s almost unsure how he finds himself mindlessly nodding along, as if your whines and pleas are like a coercive drug, “just the tip…”

you repeat those three words over—like it’s more of a mantra to yourself rather than a word of reassurance to your boyfriend—as you clumsily pull one leg out of the confinement of your shorts, giving him the perfect view of your sheened over pussy. just the tip, you mumble, drooling at the sight of eren tugging his pants further down his legs to free his dick, all achey and upright, standing against his torso as he breathes heavily.

your cunt throbs when you line yourself over him, dragging his leaky tip across your folds and sensitive clit. it’s easily one of the best reliefs you could ask for, eyes flitting around in the back of your head as you lean into his shoulder. poor eren could probably cum straight like this, seeing you use him like a damned fuck toy—seeing how horny you are for only him.

his moans only add fuel to the fire, pushing you to try your luck at sliding down his bulbous head before stopping right where it ends. he’s just so big, stretching out your hole with just the tip alone—leaving you to mutter a string of jumbled up curses as your body leans forward into him.

“does it feel good, baby?” the hoarseness in his voice is difficult to miss, it’s as if his throat is closing up with every passing moment. you’ve never tried this before, but the vice grip your cunt has on the most sensitive part of him has him wishing you’d done this much sooner.

“yeah—yeah, it feels really-”

your last word comes out in choked whine, breath hitching when his middle and ring finger find their way to your clit, tracing feather-light circle on the bud.

you want eren to make you cum—you’re so desperate that you resort to steadily rutting yourself down on his tip, focused enough to not break your promise to him. there’s a steadily approaching burn in your thighs: it’s a burn that makes you want to cry, makes you want to beg him to make the pain go away and make you finish—but you hold your tongue.

eren’s lips can only part at your unexpected determination, showcasing the sharp bottom teeth that look so much like fangs. you don’t think when you move a hand to his flushed face, your thumb messily slipping inside his mouth and padding the surface of his canines. your other hand makes its way to his glasses, gently pushing them back up the bridge of his nose before meeting his swollen lips with your own.

the residue of the strawberry cake you fed him hours prior is still lingering on his tongue, you can at least make that out as you swirl your own in his mouth.

the voice in your head chanting ‘just the tip’ is growing fainter and quieter, as if it’s moving from the front of your brain all the way to the back of your head, alongside all of the other forgotten things that seemed to hold no importance to you anymore. you want to feel all of him, the pulse of his cock that seems to barely match his heartbeat, the prominent vein running up the length, and the delicious curve that jutted up right against your walls.

“‘ren, don’t wanna hold out anymore.” relentless is what you’re becoming, tired of the way that your pussy grows achey with every passing moment—it’s not enough.

“you said just the t-tip.”

“i don’t fucking want just the tip!” the tears brimming your eyes are growing more apparent, to the point where eren can’t just simply ignore them. “gotta—you gotta let me have it all!”

eren feels like he’s lost his mind: you’re already driving yourself onto his dick, a silent scream falling from your lips as you split yourself open with his sheer thickness. your hands reach to grab whatever they can, one on the back of his searing nape, and the other on top of his own.

the sought out feeling of being full makes your head almost go haywire, stumbling over words as he bottoms out, tip feathering kisses to your cervix, “i’m sososo obsessed with you eren.”

and as much as he hates to admit it, he’s sososo obsessed with you too. despite all of his complaints, there’s still a longing to give you everything you want—need, even. he can’t help but sigh when your walls start to flutter around him, as if your pussy is welcoming him like it always has.

with your guidance, he moves a hand up your shirt and towards to chest, taking your puffy nipples in hand, rolling and prodding at it before messily taking one into his mouth.

“just…right there—”

your words are less than coherent—too busy slamming yourself back down onto him to make any sense to your boyfriend, who looks at you with his brows pulled together. it’s the same look he gives when he wants to say how ditzy you can be sometimes, but you just can’t help it!

there’s a thickening ring of cream near his base, and the squelching sounds of your cunt fucking him dumb overpowers any other sounds in the room. you sniffle and whine as your pace falters, legs giving out from your sporadic bouncing as you fall into eren. it’s almost a wonder how ‘just the tip’ turned into his tip and much more, but you don’t care enough, too eager to grind your hips along his pelvis, barely moving on his length as you play with your clit.

“you can’t do that...” he finds himself mumbling out. how is it fair for you to do all of this to him, making his dick a fucking mess just to finish it all by your self; without him. “c’mon baby, that’s so unfair” he continues to mumble about how ‘unfair’ it is as he grabs a vice hold of your hips, steadying them in place for a moment and lifting you off of him, just to slam you back down with a pace more fervent than before—one that knocks the fucking wind out of your lungs and roughly brings you back down to earth.

and the trip back down hits as hard as his thrusts. the pace is unforgiving, one that you almost didn’t know he had—barring your body to his chest to easily make you meet him halfway as he fucks up into you with low remorse. his eagerness has dick slipping out of your hole and sliding up against your swollen clit, involuntary spreading the mix of your slick and his pre everywhere between the two of you.

“feel’s so good—yeahyeahyeah—don’t stop ‘ren…” you babble run on sentences that would’ve made zero sense had eren not known you. but he does: he knows the way your brain seemed to shut down while fucking you, and how your velvety walls essentially have been warped by his cock pummelling into you at any given moment.

the arch in your back is irregular, dipped beautifully for eren to hesitantly trace lines up and down the expanse of bare skin. your pussy is the best (and only) one he’s ever had, and there’s nothing that’ll ever change that fact.

because who else’s moans will sound like a god-gifted symphony from heaven? who else’s cunt will tighten around him like so the way you do when you’re cumming, translucent white slick dragging down all over and down to pants? who else will whine and cry his name the way you do? who else will make him happily empty his balls inside of them just because they begged and asked?

nobody.

after all, you’re one of a kind.

[ange1sang]

kinktober d.3: gallavich + oral fixation

minors + under 18s pls do not interact ty

gallavich (ian x mickey); 2k words, smut, college au, crushes, blowjobs, oral fixation

a/n: this one's an au but i swear it's good so pls give it a chance!! <3

Mickey’s never been one to stare. He knows how to mind his own business, fuck you very much, and on top of that he doesn’t find most people all that interesting. Some of them are hot, some of them are boring, but most of them land somewhere in the middle that warrants a few glances at most before he makes a move or leaves them alone. He’s a direct person, for better or worse, and doesn’t find much fun in the whole playing footsie under the table and biting your lip at each other. If he’s into someone he’ll come out and say it, so no, he doesn’t spend much of his time staring at people. But this one ginger fuck — well, he’s an exception.

Mickey sees him for the first time in his Entrepreneurship class. This shouldn’t mean anything, really, because there are at least three hundred people crammed into the lecture hall, but the redhead is hot and sitting a row down just to Mickey’s right so that he’s got a good view of him. He’s hot enough that Mickey considers asking if he’ll be at the student bar later, but instead he finds himself watching him the whole class. In particular, he finds him watching his mouth.

The whole class, the redhead has something between his lips. At first he’s chewing gum, which he neatly folds away in a piece of scrap paper ten minutes into the lecture and replaces with the end of his pen. At first he’s just running it back and forth across his lips, almost like he’s flirting subconsciously with someone, but eventually he starts chewing on the plastic, teeth digging into little grooves already formed there. Even during the break when he’s chatting idly with the person sat next to him he runs his tongue along his bottom lip between sentences, bites at his top lip so that it’s slick with spit when he starts to speak again. Mickey’s captivated, and by the time he’s packing his notebook away he realises he didn’t learn much of anything from the lecture.

Next lecture, he looks around for the ginger head of hair and sits behind him again. He tells himself this time he’ll ask where he’s staying, find something to talk about that makes it clear he wants to hang out, but then the redhead unwraps a lollipop and all of those thoughts vanish. It’d be one thing if he just sucked on it like a normal person, but every few minutes he grabs a hold of the stick and rubs it back and forth over his lips like he’s applying gloss. Once again, an hour and forty five minutes are lost to watching this guy’s mouth. Watching how he leaves his lips shiny with sugar for a second or two before licking it away, over and over until the lollipop is gone. Even then he keeps the stick in his mouth, moving it up and down then side to side with his tongue. Mickey’s glad the pull up desk is close enough to his lap that no one can see the boner he spends all class willing away.

This happens again, and again, until Mickey feels like he’s going insane. He hasn’t mapped out anybody’s face this well, couldn’t tell you if his flatmate had any beauty marks, but he’s got the freckles on this guy’s face committed to memory. And his mouth. He has an embarrassing amount of daydreams (and real dreams) about his fucking mouth. It’s a nightmare. Every time he checks his timetable and sees Entrepreneurship his stomach does a little flip-flop of anticipation. And if Mickey’s never been one for staring, he’s definitely never been one for stomach flip-flops.

It’s the eighth lecture when he gets to class and doesn’t spot the redhead there, which unnerves him slightly because he’s always weirdly early. But whatever. The lectures aren’t mandatory and with the amount of people in the class it’d be impossible to see the same people every time. He sits down towards the back and pulls out his notebook and pen (free of teeth marks, unlike that redheaded fuck’s). It’s almost like clockwork, what happens next. As soon as the cap on his pen comes off, the seat next to his is being pushed down and— shit.

“Cool if I sit here?” the redhead asks, even though he’s already sat down, pulling out a notebook and his signature chewed up pen.

“Guess so,” Mickey mumbles, and realises far too late that he’s been staring at him. He’s gotten so used to doing it that it’s almost like second nature, but now that the guy’s sitting close enough that he can feel the warmth coming off of his arm it’s painfully obvious that he’s looking at him and his mouth.

They sit in silence until the lecture starts, at which point the redhead leans into him and speaks softly around the pen cap between his lips.

“My name’s Ian,” he whispers. Mickey glances at him and instantly feels a familiar warmth in his stomach when he twists the pen cap back and forth between his lips.

“Mickey,” he whispers back, averting his eyes before he digs himself any further into this hole.

“My friend said you were staring last lecture,” Ian goes on, voice taking on a teasing lilt that has Mickey cussing under his breath. “And the one before that, and the one before?”

He phrases it like a question, like Mickey should say something to defend himself before he jumps to conclusions. There isn’t much to say though, not when the conclusions are probably accurate, so he just shrugs.

“You’ve always got shit in your mouth, man,” he mumbles back, meeting Ian’s eyes for a split second and then looking down at where he’s sucking on his bottom lip for what he hopes is just a split second. “’S fuckin’ weird.”

“Weird?” Ian whispers, breaking off into a giggle just loud enough to make someone in the row ahead of them turn around. Mickey nods, even though he can feel warmth climbing his cheeks to the tips of his ears, watching how the other wipes the spit from his bottom lip with his thumb. “Sure it’s not ‘cause you want to put something else in my mouth?”

If Mickey hadn’t already given himself a Pavlovian reaction to this godforsaken class that sentence alone would definitely be enough to do it.

“Maybe,” he gets out without sounding too embarrassed. He looks at Ian and finds him with the end of his pen between his teeth, tongue running along the bite marks on the end of it. Paired with the knowing smile on his lips it’s enough to give him a semi. “You gonna do somethin’ about it, red?”

“Soon as class is over,” Ian says, grinning like he’s told a joke. Mickey feels like he’s been handed a sentence instead, checking the time on his phone and realising there’s an hour and a half left of class.

.

The second they’re out of the lecture hall Ian’s grinning at him all over again. Mickey chooses to ignore how his cheeks are burning in favour of rummaging around in his bag for his cigarettes.

“Don’t light anything, my place is just across the street,” Ian says, grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him towards the exit. Mickey raises an eyebrow.

“You’re eager,” he comments, which makes Ian snort.

“Like you said, I’ve always got stuff in my mouth,” he replies like it’s nothing.

Ian’s place is a cramped studio, about as disorganised as any college student’s place, but Mickey doesn’t get to look around for more than a couple of seconds before Ian’s reaching for his jeans, deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them without looking. His mouth is centimetres from Mickey’s, and even now he’s got his bottom lip between his teeth, smiling at Mickey as he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers.

“Wanna sit on my bed?” he asks, even as he’s pushing Mickey’s jeans down his legs.

“Yeah, whatever,” Mickey shrugs. He couldn’t care less where he’s standing or sitting as long as he finally gets to feel this guy’s fucking mouth on him. He doesn’t have to worry or wait much longer because as soon as he’s siting down Ian’s got his pants around his ankles and leans forward to land an open-mouthed kiss on the head of his dick.

He doesn’t start stroking him to get him hard like Mickey half-expects him to do. Instead he runs his tongue all over him, licking up along one of the veins on the side of his length and swirling his tongue around the head, flicking it against the frenulum and moving his face down to suck on his balls. He barely uses his hands and yet he has Mickey’s dick spit-coated and hard in nearly record time.

“Feel as good as you thought it would?” he asks while he’s rubbing the slit against his lips, smearing precum across them like it’s lip gloss. Mickey’s reminded of him doing the same thing with his lollipop in the second lecture they shared and groans.

“Fuck yeah,” is all he gets out before Ian starts sucking him off in earnest and god fucking damn. All that staring did nothing to prepare Mickey for how the redhead takes him to the hilt like it’s nothing, drooling all over his dick and coming up for air with strings of spit still connecting them. Ian smiles at him with an oddly out of place schoolboy charm, and leans in to suck along the side of his cock.

His tongue is skilled, which Mickey had already figured, but the way it drags along his skin has his brain melting, first the tip tracing along every sensitive spot he can find and then pressed flat against the underside of his dick as he leans down and takes him all the way. Mickey finds himself unable to do much other than swear as Ian stays down for longer than should be possible, nose buried in his pubes as he swallows around his dick.

“Motherfucker,” Mickey grits out through clenched teeth, letting his head fall back when Ian finally comes up to breathe. Even as he catches his breath he doesn’t stop, running his lips and tongue over every inch of him until he’s covered in a thick, sticky layer of saliva. It doesn’t put Ian off either — if anything he’s more excited about lapping up all of the precum and spit on Mickey’s skin.

“Tell me when you’re gonna cum,” he demands suddenly, voice just a little rough, and it’s all Mickey can do not to laugh.

“Any fuckin’ second,” he admits, earning him a grin from the redhead before he’s bobbing his head again. He feels like heaven, Mickey thinks for a split second, and then his tongue is rubbing right against his frenulum and good fucking God. He moans embarrassingly loud and Ian seems to get the cue because he pulls up just in time to catch every spurt of cum on his tongue.

Mickey watches, captivated like he always is by Ian’s mouth, as the redhead used the head of his dick to spread cum evenly over his lips and then licks it all away and swallows.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “You’re fuckin’ good at that.”

Ian shrugs, sitting back and taking a deep breath. Mickey keeps watching for a moment, notices how for the first time since he’s seen him his mouth stays totally still. No lip licking or biting, no fingertip stuck between his teeth to chew on. He’s surprised — pleasantly or otherwise, he’s not sure.

“How come you’re always putting shit in your mouth anyway?” he asks. The question instantly has Ian’s tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip.

“It’s an anxiety thing. Nervous tic or something,” he says, looking flustered for the first time. Mickey smirks.

“You stopped doing it for a minute there, y’know,” he states, and watches as his freckled cheeks turn pink.

“Yeah, well don’t get ahead of yourself, we haven’t been on a date or anything,” he says with a smile, getting up and throwing a towel in Mickey’s direction.

Mickey stifles a laugh. At least he knows what he’s asking him next lecture.

[shiratamahatsumiyo]

Azul Ashengrotto with a Bad Genius reader (Part 2)

Thank you for supporting me throughout the year I've been in Tumblr, you guys. Unfortunately, I have to focus on my studies in the meantime. But I'll post small fics before I can post longer ones when I have the time... I'll be busy for a while.

Warning: Slight Swearing, Slight Angst

• ..... Life is not fair, you know?

• The same goes for schools and businesses. Unfair. The only thing that matters is the one who gets the most benefit. The teachers nurture the students with higher social status and leave the stunted students with lower social status in the dust. The businessmen only invest in partnerships that are rich and terminate contracts with failing partnerships. Why? It's simple, really...

• If you are smart, attractive, and confident, you will be admired and included. If you are dumb, ugly, and clumsy, you will be hated and casted out.

• JUST. LIKE. THAT GROSS. STUPID. AND USELESS. FUCKING. OCTOPUS.

• You are just a student. His student in his dorm. This school you're enrolled in is only an institution for only talented mages. With your average magical abilities, surely you cannot be a hindrance to his objectives in life... Right?

• ... Azul was wrong. Dead wrong. You, unfortunately, have become a nuisance.

• He's underestimated you. How can that be? He's always two steps ahead of... Everyone... Everyone but not you. How can you do this to him?! How ungrateful can you be?! You're the one who's at fault, not him! YOU TOOK HIS PLACE IN THE RANKS.

• ..................Just how did it come to this?

• ................................................................................................................................................................

"...zu........Azu.....Azul......zul................"

...?

"AZUL!"

! ! !

????: "Azul, why aren't you awake yet? You should be eating breakfast at this time."

Azul: "W-wha...?... Jade? What are you doing in my room?"

Jade: "To wake you up. Hm...You always wake up to your alarm. How strange....This is unlike you. Are you feeling alright?"

Azul: "I'm fine... Wait, what do you mean by "at this time?""

Jade: "It's already 8:25 in the morning-"

Azul: "SEVENS! WHY DIDN'T YOU WAKE ME UP SOONER?! WE'RE LATE FOR CLASS!"

• Azul woke up late this morning, which is unusual for the silver-haired man. Jade and Floyd had those smug look on their face while watching him eat breakfast. Turns out the suave Azul isn't so suave after all, Floyd teased him. Perhaps the workload of managing Mostro Lounge the other day did a number on poor Azul? Jade also chided with the teasing. Preposterous! He isn't one to get tired of reading contracts! Waking up a little late this morning was definitely just a minor inconvenience!

• Azul quickly took a bath and changed to his uniform. He saw you rushing out of your room with Grim, looks like you also woke up late. You both greet each other and head to your classrooms together with the Tweels. The examinations are coming up which means that Azul will be hauling contracts after contracts as well as doubling, no, tripling the amount of students that are indebted to him! This semester, he's aiming for more than 200 students!

• For the few weeks of the examinations drawing near, he's contracted students from almost every dormitory. The other dorm leaders can't do anything about it because of their own dormmates' stupidity. A few more days before the exam, Azul noticed that some students are cautiously avoiding him for some reason. This has never happened before... Did he not add the right amount of charm? Did they see through his facade? That cannot be...

• He has never been more frustrated and puzzled in his entire school life here. The thought about it nearly stressed him out enough to leave wrinkles from the constant furrowing of his eyebrows. As he sat beside the counter of the lounge waiting for Jade to finish his drink, he saw you approaching him, dragging those awfully heavy eyebags of yours too. Jade offered a cup of coffee on the house and you took it, knowing that you'll be working on the exams with little to no sleep.

• The lounge's atmosphere was quiet. Of course, every student is busy studying their night away which means that this is the calm before the storm. This also means that you won't have time to rest after the exams when the lounge will be packed by students. Azul probably has to give you credit for staying up late to clean the tables even if the lounge is empty. After you drank the coffee Jade made for you, you slumped down like a tired Tumblr writer who chose to continue this part instead of working on class projects all-nighter.

Azul: "Good evening, BadGenius! Yuu. Rough day?"

BadGenius! Yuu: "Yeah... Ruggie and everyone can't work because of the exams. Floyd won't do shit. And Grim is too stubborn to study. How's business going for you?"

Azul: "It's going well, actually. If you don't mind me asking, why on Twisted Wonderland are you staying up late at this ungodly hour?"

BadGenius! Yuu: "For the after-exams bonus, duh."

Azul: "That will have to wait the next day."

BadGenius! Yuu: "Fine......Can I ask you something?"

Azul: "Oh?"

BadGenius! Yuu: "It's not for a contract or anything! Just asking for small advice."

Azul: "Advice? From me?"

BadGenius! Yuu: "Yes. Is it no good?"

Azul: "Hmm... From what I've observed, you've been working more efficiently than our workers..."

Jade: "Oya 😊?"

Azul: "Ahem! Aside from Jade. So I think I can partake some knowledge of... What is it about?"

BadGenius! Yuu: "Well, it's just... What do you do when you... Start a business but feel a little bit guilty about it? Like, what you're doing might be wrong and you'll end up rock-bottom if it continues?"

Azul: "...It depends. Usually when a business wants to expand, they must make multiple plans to avoid or to take risks."

BadGenius! Yuu: "Plans? Risks?"

Azul: "Yes. It involves taking a small step to further expand the business. Usually starts from small to big. Always have layered and detailed plans. You consider the threats, analyze the danger, re-evaluate your advantages and weaknesses when it comes to that threat, and then initiate an advantage to show that you have the upper hand. However, risking something without proper calculation, that one step can cause you to lose everything and start back to square one. It's like a game."

BadGenius! Yuu: "I see... Thank you for your advice, dorm leader. I owe you one."

Azul: "... No need. Its basic knowledge in business. Think of it as a reward... But if I may ask, why do you ask of me that--"

Floyd: "JAAADEE!!! AZUUUL!!!"

• The moody eel barged through the doors before Azul could ask you about his advice. You politely bowed to say goodnight and went to bed. You couldn't get a wink of sleep that night. You kept thinking over Azul's advice, it might help you with your struggles.

• 24 hours before the exam, the silver-haired man counted all the contracts he's hoarded. He couldn't stop thinking about your request for his advice relating to business. What were you even going to do with it? His frustration only grew when he counted the total amount of contracts... Only 185? He could've sworn he talked to students more than that. He doesn't remember them rejecting his offer... Something feels wrong. Should he talk to some students more?

• He groaned in exhaustion and massaged his temples. Jade is in kitchen making tea, Floyd is probably in his room since there are no one to squeeze. He contemplated on going to bed early and study for the night but stopped in his tracks when he heard voices outside of the room...

• Hold on... Students? In the lounge?? Before the exam??? He rushed outside to see a large number of students from different dormitories sitting on the tables, enjoying their drinks. He sees Jade and Floyd serving drinks to the supposedly-studying students. He noticed the students glancing at him and fidgeted. Some students suddenly opened the menu to read it and some not even making eye contact with him when he passed by. A familiar whine from a flaming cat reached his ears and his head turned to the entrance to see those troublemaker friends of yours.

Grim: "Fnyaagh... It's so tiring! BadGenius! Yuu keeps insisting that I should study harder. I'm trying! How am I gonna do that 😾?"

Deuce: "Stop complaining, Grim. They said they'd help us, so the least we could do is memorize half of it."

Ace: "Seriously, Juice? Who would have time to memorize all those piano lessons in one night?"

Deuce: "Ugh! It's Deuce!"

• ... Piano lessons? What?

Ace: "Oh crap...! Hey Azul-senpai! Uhh... Is BadGenius! Yuu here?"

Azul: "Oh? And why do you want to know that? You know you shouldn't be entering a dorm uninvited."

Deuce: "U-umm...!"

Azul: "If you're just here to order, that'll be-"

BadGenius! Yuu: "Good evening, dorm leader. I forgot to tell you that I have friends visiting me for piano lessons. Please excuse us. We'll try to make little noise as possible."

Azul: "Ah, I see. So that explains the music coming from your room. If they make too much racket, I'm afraid we'll have to throw them out."

BadGenius! Yuu: "Yes, dorm leader. Goodnight."

• Once Azul was in the ADeuce and Grim's line of sight, they greeted him. Azul was suspicious of them for a moment before you intervened and then they made a beeline to your room. If he strained his ears hard enough, he might hear sighs of relief from the three as they walked through the hallway. The students in the lounge relaxed a bit and went back to their ongoing chatter.

• How curious... He knows you liked to play piano. But repeating the same sequence over and over again? Especially when your friends visit you every time?

• He felt like he needed to confirm something and approached Jade. He asked how many students have entered the establishment. To the silver-haired man's surprise, Jade answered that there are 40 students. 40 STUDENTS. He observed the features of the nearby groups of students and finally, he recognized them... THOSE ARE THE STUDENTS THAT HE HASN'T MADE A DEAL WITH.

• The more students he observed, the more memories come flooding back to him... He remembers this beastman, he was in his class. Azul tried to offer him a contract but he fled without glancing back... He remembers that student, too. Azul encountered him in the hallway but he avoided him before Azul could speak... He remembers him, too. He went the other way... And him, as well... And him... And him...! ALL OF THE STUDENTS HERE AVOIDED HIS OFFER.

• Azul feels like there's a plan at hand being set here. He doesn't want to assume and just rely on that alone, but... You've been acting distant lately ever since he gave you that advice and... There were other students visiting the lounge in search of you despite the exam's date drawing near... Are you...? No, you're an honor student. You can't possibly.... Unless...?

Azul: "... Jade."

Jade: "Yes?"

Azul: "Observe BadGenius! Yuu. There's something going on here."

Jade: "I thought so. How long?"

Azul: "Until the exams are over."

• ... Don't be mad at him once he learns your secret. You cheated, after all.

To be Continued...

[petalsnow]

Best Friend (18+)

bang chan x felix 

word count: 3.4k 

genre: smut, fluff - 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI 

warnings: non-idol au, friends to lovers, dom!chan, sub!felix, swearing, excessive alcohol consumption, both characters are under the influence, oral sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this), cumming inside (don’t do this), praise kink, degradation kink, confessions of love.. i think that covers it but if i missed something let me know! 

summary: no matter how hard felix tries, he just can’t shake his feelings for chan.. but he never expected him to feel the same way. 

this is a fictional story. nothing in this fan-fiction represents felix, bang chan, or stray kids as a whole, NOR does it represent their relationships between each other. read at your own risk. 

18+ content below the cut. 

———

felix knew for a while now. he was painfully aware of the feelings he had for his best friend. but that was the problem, and the root of all of this weird tension between them. he was supposed to be his best friend. felix grew up with chan. they were neighbors, classmates, and even part of the same dance group throughout high school. but as time passed, their hang outs grew scarce and their communication dwindled down significantly. after all, they’re both in college now. both busy with their studies and part time jobs. this is whenever felix started to realize his feelings for chan weren’t just the average “bromance” type. he found himself thinking about chan late at night, his chest tightening from the pain of missing him so much. he often would lay in bed and scroll through his camera roll, eyes grazing over pictures of the two of them throughout the years. he hated the feeling. it felt wrong, it felt pathetic. felix of course has no idea how chan feels about him, but he can only assume it’s not mutual. it would be strange if it was.. they’re practically brothers… (felix tries to convince himself). after many long and painful nights of missing his friend, felix decides it would be a good idea to text chan and ask him to hang out. it’s been a few months since the last time they saw each other, it doesn’t seem like a weird request. felix opens up their message thread and finds himself twiddling his thumbs, overthinking what he wants to send. after several back spaces and heavy sighs, he finally decides to press send: felix: hey! i have break from classes today if you want to come over and drink or something. he figures that sounds casual enough and nervously waits for his reply. which comes sooner than he expected, and the blonde headed boy’s head shoots up quickly at the chime of his phone channie: felix! hey!! of course, i’ll be over within the next hour if that sounds okay. i’ll bring some soju. felix finds himself unable to fight the smile that is now beaming across his face and quickly texts back, felix: sounds great bro, see you then. the casual “bro” was thrown in there of course, on purpose. ———

felix has been getting ready for the entirety of the hour that chan said it would take him to arrive at his apartment. changing his outfit five times, changing his hairstyle, and even applying a small amount of makeup just to brighten his eyes and cover a few of his unwanted blemishes.

he is staring at himself in his full length mirror, his final look consists of a comfortable white tee, a oversized light brown cardigan, and some comfy grey sweats. he didn’t want to dress up too much and give himself away.. but he did want to look appealing, and felix is convinced he did just that.

he’s tidying up his hair when he hears three knocks to his front door and his heart inevitably leaps in his chest, he gives himself a final look over and all but sprints to the source of the noise. he takes a deep breath before twisting the nob and revealing his (handsome) “best friend”.

“ahhh felix!” the older boy grins from ear to ear, pulling the smaller boy in for a warm embrace. “how have you been?? i feel like it’s been forever” he adds

“i’ve been good, same shit different day. you know how it is.” felix responds casually, trying not to reveal the enormous smile he now posses.

“ah yes, i get it dude.” he groans in agreement as he pulls away “want me to throw the soju in the fridge?” he questions as he brushes past felix and enters the apartment.

“yeah, that’s perfect” felix nods, shutting the door as his friend heads into the kitchen. felix awkwardly clears his throat, trying to keep himself as nonchalant as possible “how have you been?” he chimes as he follows behind him.

“tired, stressed, exhausted.. the usual” his friend chuckles, taking two bottles of soju out of the pack before placing the rest in the fridge. he smiles, handing one to his friend. “but that’s what these are for.” he smirks.

felix laughs and happily takes the bottle into his hand, twisting the metal cap off. “we both going to drink a bottle by ourselves?” he quirks an eye brow, taking his first sip before chan can reply.

“just like old times.” chan grins back at him, taking a gulp of the liquid down like a champ. “plus, if i don’t drink this whole thing, i don’t think i would be half as enjoyable to be around with how stressed i’ve been lately” he adds.

before felix has time to process what he’s saying he replies with, “you’re always enjoyable to me.” and his face quickly turns a light shade of pink at his abrupt honestly. “j-just because we always have such a good time together.. ya know?” he clears his throat, breaking the intense eye contact with his friend.

chan giggles and walks over to felix to ruffle his hair “of course i know what you mean, i don’t think you’d keep me around for this long if you didn’t enjoy my company.” he says playfully before squinting a little a felix with the newly established proximity. “are you wearing makeup?” he cocks his head

felix swears he could shit himself right there on the kitchen floor. his pink cheeks now turning a deep shade of red. “yeah.. just a little insecure with my acne lately..” he tries to play it off, shoving chan playfully (and so he won’t be so close to notice such details).

“ahh, i’m sorry for pointing it out then” he replies. “come on, let’s go chill in the living room, i’m tired of standing” chan smiles and walks comfortably through his friends apartment, like he owns the place. which, he may as well, he’s been here more times than he can count.

felix silently agrees and plops himself on the opposite side of the couch from chan.

they spend a while catching up, their soju bottles growing lighter and lighter as each minute passes. trips to the fridge are made to retrieve more, several times.

hours have passed now and the sun has fallen from the sky, the apartment lit up only by the glow of the TV screen. empty soju bottles are littered across felix’s floor and both boys are laughing and throwing their heads back over the couch.

“bro, no way you told a girl you loved her on the FIRST DATE?” felix asks in purse disbelief, the alcohol molding him into a bold and now (very) loud person

“and that is why i will never drink tequila on the first date ever again..” chan groans as he hides his face, unable to keep himself from laughing as felix cracks up at this embarrassing story.

their laughter dies down before felix adds to the conversation again, “i haven’t been on any dates in forever, i just don’t have the interest in any girls around here i guess” he shrugs, toying with one of the bottle caps in his hand.

“really? i figured you’d have a list of girls lined up waiting to beat down your door.” chan responds, taking the last sip of the last bottle of soju before resting it on the coffee table close to the couch.

felix chuckles at this and flicks the bottle cap in chan’s direction. “could say the same for you.”

chan catches the cap and flicks it back at felix with a small grin. “sort of, but none of them have kept my interest. more of a one night stand kind of guy lately.”

the bottle cap drops to the floor from chan’s poor aim and felix, now without any distraction, looks up to meet his friend’s gaze.

“i don’t know if could do one night stands.. i feel like i get attached too easily” felix sighs sweetly.

“you always were the hopeless romantic type” chan smiles softly, shifting his position on the couch to fully face felix. “it’s cute.”

felix gulps, sobering up a little at his comment. “t-thanks. it’s kind of embarrassing actually.. it gets lonely” he swallows hard.

chan frowns at his friends response “you can always call me, yeah? you don’t have to isolate yourself”

“no i just mean.. it gets lonely like, romantically. i constantly crave affection and physical touch but most people just want a one time thing and i just can’t see myself being okay with that.” felix explains, toying with a button on his cardigan.

“i know that’s what you meant.. my offer still stands.” chan replies, confidence never wavering in his tone.

felix can’t help but quickly look up, meeting his eyes in a small panic. he doesn’t know if he’s reading too much into it or if chan is trying to hint at what he thinks he’s trying to hint at.. he opens his mouth to reply but chan beats him to it.

“i like you felix.” chan adds, boldly. the alcohol has clearly taken over at this point.

felix blinks hard, at a loss for words. “w-what do you mean?” he asks

“i like you, more than just a friend.” chan clarifies for him. “i’ve felt this way for a while, but we’ve been best friends our entire life and it always just felt so wrong, so i’ve never mentioned it before or made a move.” he shrugs, “but i’m super drunk right now and i’m tired of keeping it in.. so here it is” he nods, looking away from felix and down at the couch in an attempt to make him less uncomfortable.

felix’s adams apple visibly bobs from how hard he gulps, he feels like he’s dreaming. because there is absolutely no way chan just confessed his love for him. after a few seconds of awkward silence, felix finally finds the courage to reply.

“i feel the same way..” he says, barely above a whisper. “… that’s why i wore makeup, and invited you over..” his words slurring “shit, i spent an entire hour getting ready for you…” he’s pouring out now.

chan’s heart aches in his chest at the boy’s innocent confession. “you did all of that for me?” he asks.

“yeah, all for you.” felix nods, still fidgeting with his cardigan. “i love you channie..” his voice cracking, his feelings that have been pent up for years, overflowing thanks to the soju.

“oh felix..” chan trails off, shifting his position to move closer to him, taking felix’s hands into his own to rub his thumb over them. “i’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me sooner.” a sadness washing over his expression

felix sniffles, a small tear escaping one of his eyes. “it’s not your fault, i would’ve never expected you to feel the same anyways.” he whimpers

“i do.. i always have.” chan comforts him, removing his hand from felix’s grasp to wipe the tear off his cheek. “no crying, you’ll mess up your makeup.” he smiles softly, felix’s eyes finally meeting his own.

“kiss me, please..” felix quietly begs.

chan doesn’t need any further encouragement before pressing his lips into felix’s. it’s soft, loving, and warm. chan’s body pressing further into felix as the kiss deepens, felix’s hands finding their way to rest on either side of chan’s face.

the kiss quickly grows more aggressive and sloppy, the sexual tension growing thicker as chan grinds himself into the boy underneath him.

“fuck, we have to stop. i don’t know if i can control myself if we keep going.” chan pulls away from the kiss, catching his breath.

“what makes you think i want you to control yourself?” felix asks, searching chan’s eyes, his hands still resting on his friend’s cheeks.

chan all but melts into felix at his words. “you’re going to kill me.” he growls, dipping his head down to attack felix’s neck with open mouth kisses.

“nooo, you can’t die. you haven’t even fucked me yet.” felix giggles at chan’s desperation and because his kisses tickle there.

chan chuckles are his response and leans back to remove his own shirt, revealing his toned physique.

felix looks up at him in awe. “you’ve.. really been working out lately.” he trails off, mesmerized by the image on display before him.

“yeah, to attract cute little twinks like you.” chan winks before tossing the shirt across the room and leaning back down to reattach their lips.

felix whimpers at the new contact, his fingernails lightly scratching against chan’s back. “need you now.” he manages to get out between kisses.

“i thought you’d never ask” chan mutters before tugging off felix’s cardigan and tee shirt, quickly tossing them across the room as well. “you’re perfect” he moans, drinking in the boy’s small build.

felix blushes, crashing his lips back into the older boy instead of trying to think of a good response. both of the boys have grown rock hard, their bulges rubbing against another at their make out session continues.

“god, felix. i can’t take it anymore, i need you now.” chan moans. shifting to lay on his back. felix crawls i between his legs, slowly tugging at the waist band of chan’s sweatpants.

“can i?” felix asks politely, his innocent doe eyes staring into chan’s.

“fuck yes, of course.” chan’s nods quickly, leaning back into the couch as the boy removes his pants in a swift motion.

“no underwear?” felix cocks his head to the side, nestling himself between chan’s legs.

“never” chan chuckles, resting his head against the arm of the couch to watch felix’s performance.

felix hums softly and takes chan’s length into his small hand, giving it gentle strokes at a steady pace.

chan whimpers, closing his eyes at the pleasurable sight and feeling. “feels perfect ‘lix.”

felix smiles at the pet name as chan’s dick grows harder in his hand, before softly placing his mouth over his erection.

he has a hard time fitting it all at first, but as he gets more comfortable with the size, he begins moving his head faster and deeper.

“s-shit” chan swears, his hips slightly bucking upwards to meet felix’s warm and heavenly mouth. “you’re… so fucking good at this.” chan gasps, running his hand through the top of felix’s hair, slightly pushing his head further down onto his cock.

felix moans around his dick at the small gesture of dominance, which encourages him to go deeper.

chan feels like he’s going to explode, his moans grow louder and he feels a fire burning in his abdomen. he lets felix continue for a couple minutes before he just can’t take it anymore.

“get off, i’m going to fuck you now.” chan asserts, pulling felix off his cock, quickly removing the younger boys sweats in the process.

chan scoffs at felix’s lack of underwear too. “no underwear?” he parrots to the blonde.

“never.” felix retorts with a cheeky smile, chan placing a sweet kiss to his mouth before turning the small boy around and bending him over.

“shit, do you have condoms?” chan snaps out of his lustful spell, checking around the room

“i’m clean..” felix mutters beneath him

“you sure you’re okay with this..?” chan trails off, rubbing the small of felix’s back “i can go get condoms if you want me to.” he reassures him

“no, i’m sure channie.” felix whimpers “please, just fuck me already.” he begs

and just like that, chan’s lustful spell has taken him over again. chan bends down to lick a bold stripe over felix’s tight hole, eating him out quickly but effectively to get him prepped for what’s to come.

felix mewls at the sudden contact and pushes his hips into chan’s touch, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“as delicious as you taste, i can’t wait anymore, need to feel you ‘lix” chan moans, rising back up to line his cock up with felix’s wet and swollen hole before slowly pushing into him.

“oh fuck… holy shit” chan growls, pushing in and out of the younger boy slowly, setting a soft pace at first. “you’re so fucking tight.”

felix is a whimpering mess beneath the muscular boy, toys curling and back arching. “y-you’re my first.” felix confesses in a high pitch.

“damn right, and i’ll be your last.” chan grunts, slowly increasing his place, caressing felix’s back as he adjusts to his size.

the more comfortable felix gets, the more his ass starts meeting chan half way between each stroke. the room is filled with both of their moans, and the sound of felix’s ass against chan’s dick.

“channie, you’re so big, i fucking love your dick.” felix moans out, gripping the couch cushion beneath him.

“yeah? you’re gonna lose your mind on my cock baby?” chan encourages him, smirking as he slams his cock into his sub. “gonna make you forget how to speak, turn you into such a good cock slut just for me to use.” a hard slap landing on felix’s ass.

felix let’s out a small scream, his eyes welling up in tears at the over stimulation and effect that chan’s words have on him. “p-please, just want to be yours.” felix whines.

“you’re already mine, no need to beg baby boy.” chan grunts, leaning down to press kisses to the back of felix’s neck, wrapping an arm around the small boy to support his collapsing body.

felix melts into his touch, eyes closed and mouth open wide as he lets out the most beautiful sounds chan has ever heard.

“channie.. g-gonna cum.” felix barely manages to get out, gasping for air.

“that’s my good boy, cum for daddy baby. i know you can. show me.” chan encourages in felix’s ear, increasing his pace as felix slowly reaches his climax.

with a loud moan and a tightening grip on one of chan’s thighs, felix let’s go. his cum drenching the couch beneath their bodies, his chest heaving as his high passes over him.

chan peppers kisses all across felix’s neck and down his back as the boy comes down from his high, his pace slowed down significantly.

felix collapses underneath him, trying to catch his breath. chan chuckles softly and maneuvers felix to lay on his back now, their eyes meeting again.

“hey” chan smiles down at him, felix wrapping his legs around chan. “you gonna come back to me?” he asks, felix’s gaze still miles from him, lost in pure bliss.

felix flutters his eyes and draws in a deep breath before nodding at chan’s question. a soft smile creeping across his freckled cheeks.

“you gonna be okay if we go a little longer?” chan questions, placing soft kisses to his cheeks. “i’m almost there.” he reassures him.

“yeah, want you to finish too.” felix sighs sweetly, leaning into chan’s touch.

“okay baby, let me know if it’s too much.” chan adds, and felix nods before chan realigns himself with felix before sliding back into him.

“perfect..” chan whispers “perfect for me.”

his pace is more steady now, deep and slow stroke into felix. he won’t last long now.

“love you channie, love you so much.” felix whines, back arching off of the couch

“god damn it, i love you more felix.” chan groans loudly, his pace growing sloppier at the younger boy’s confession.

chan lands a few more strokes before he meets his climax

“god, i’m cumming baby.” chan throws his head back as felix tightens around him.

“inside, please channie.” felix begs him, spreading his legs further

that’s all it takes to send chan over the edge, emptying himself into felix’s tight hole with a loud moan.

his jerks his hips into felix a couple more times, making sure he gets every drop into him before slowly pulling out and falling onto his back into the couch.

both of the boys catching their breath before either of them break the silence.

felix is the first to slowly sit up, peering over at chan who is still trying to process what happened. felix crawls over chan’s body, arms on either side of him, caging him in.

“you still just a one night stand type of guy?” felix playfully cocks his head to the side.

“shut up and kiss me.” chan rolls his eyes before felix giggles and presses a kiss to his lips.

“i’ve waited for this my whole life” chan whispers, meeting felix’s eyes

“you have no idea..” felix whispers back, eyes glazing over with tears.

———

the end :) i hope you enjoyed <3 

[rip-quizilla]

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 3

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: For some reason, when Eddie's around you, he doesn't feel like a piece of shit- he's really starting to like that about you. Your feelings for Eddie are growing past 'friendship' feelings, but you sure as hell aren't telling Eddie that. Robin is perceptive as hell.

Word Count: 4.9k

Tags for Entire Fic (from AO3): Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Inspired by When Harry Met Sally (1989), Slow Burn, Romantic Fluff, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Eddie Munson Lives, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, no one dies, Reader-Insert, Eventual Smut

Divider was created by the lovely and talented @hellfire--cult❤️

Part 1 | Part 2

Part 3

Spring, 1983

“How on earth are you failing shop?”

Your voice landed in the thick quiet of Eddie’s van halfway between a question and a laugh, and Eddie could feel a blush creeping up his neck as he tried to laugh it off. 

“Eh, I failed a project way back where I was supposed to make this birdhouse or something and I never turned it in…”

He didn’t miss the concern in your voice when you replied, “And you never thought to just ask for an extension? Did you at least start it?”

Eddie’s silence spoke volumes.

“Eddie!” you shoved him lightly on the shoulder, and he winced. Not from pain, you’d barely shoved at all- he winced out of embarrassment. 

You were smart. He didn’t need to look at your report card to know someone like you had never failed a class as simple as shop before. By all means, it should have been an easy A; Mr. McCarthy didn’t grade based on skill, his projects were easy to ace as long as you followed the rubric. The hard part was that Eddie was a serial procrastinator, especially when it came to projects. He’d kept telling himself that he would start the project later, start it tomorrow, start it this weekend, etc. Now here he was, a month after it was due, and a month before the school year ended- still no project, and no amount of minor assignments would help him to regain a passing grade in that class.

“It’s no big deal, they can’t make me repeat the year just because I failed an elective class. I’ll just take another elective credit next year instead of a study hall-”

“Eddie!”

The tone of your voice surprised him, firm and all-business, almost like a reprimand. He glanced at you sheepishly. “What?”

He wasn’t sure why he’d expected you to be angry with him. Perhaps Eddie had grown so used to getting lectured by those that mattered to him that the idea of you doing the same wasn’t that much of a stretch. But when Eddie saw your expression, it wasn’t one of anger, but confusion.

“Do you hear yourself?” You asked. Your voice was firm, leaving no room for any argument. “It’s like you’ve already given up and you still have a whole month before junior year ends.”

Eddie shook his head. “The project was due in March, there’s no way McCarthy would let me turn it in this late-”

“Have you asked?”

Another silence, equally telling as the last. 

You turned your attention to the street ahead, arms crossed over your chest and a satisfied look on your face. “Well, you’re going to ask him Monday if he’d accept your birdhouse late.”

Eddie barked out a laugh. “Oh that’s what I’m gonna do, huh?” 

You nodded, smiling smugly. “Mm-hm!”

“And then I’m going to build a birdhouse?” 

“You are, and I’m going to help you.”

That, Eddie hadn’t expected. “You’re gonna… what?” 

You smiled at him, pulling your backpack up into your lap and hugging it to your middle. Eddie remembered you doing that last week too; he wondered if that was something you did subconsciously, always needing something to hug against yourself to feel comfort in some way. “I’m going to help you. My dad has some tools and scrap wood in the shed out behind our house, so we can go there if you want. Either way, I am not letting you fail shop class unless you did every possible thing you could have to pass.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say. His friends were always happy to help him with homework, even let him copy off of them from time to time- but this? He felt a bit overwhelmed at your eagerness, borderline pushiness, to help him.

“You really don’t need to go through the trouble-”

You gave him a stern look that sent his eyes straight back to the road ahead. “Munson, if you try to get out of building a damn birdhouse I swear I’m changing the radio station to whatever popular girly crap is playing right now.” 

Eddie shut his mouth, button eyes blown wide. “Understood, yes ma’am.” 

He pretended that the thumping of his overzealous heart was just the heavy bass from the radio.

To Eddie’s surprise- and your satisfaction- Mr. McCarthy agreed to grant Eddie an extension. If he was able to present a finished birdhouse by the end of the school year, Eddie could receive credit for it with an automatic ten point deduction for being tardy. You thought ten points was generous of him, and while Eddie secretly agreed, he wasn’t about to criticize the hand that fed him. 

So, per your request (which Eddie could tell was non-negotiable, so not much of a request, really) Eddie stayed with you after school while you tutored some freshman in preparation for their English Lit final and drove you back to your house when you were done. This time, however, he went inside with you to begin construction on the birdhouse that would (hopefully) save his grade.

Your dad had been more than happy to help Eddie with figuring out how big to cut each of the wood pieces, teaching him to measure twice, cut once, blah blah blah. All of that adorable fatherly stuff. It was very cute for you to watch- your dad, who had initially been less smiley, a bit more taciturn than usual because his daughter was bringing a boy by the house to work on a project and he’d been intent on snuffing out any ill-intentions towards you, instantly falling back into his everyday, effortlessly smiley exterior the moment Eddie told him that his woodworking hobby was “actually really cool”. 

Something about Eddie seemed to do that to people- he melted away the person you projected, leaving behind the person you were at your core. You could see it so clearly on your dad’s face as the two of them sketched out lines on a piece of scrap wood. Eddie marked one piece with a little cartoonish-looking skull, and when your dad saw it he asked Eddie if he likes to draw- and then the conversation simply flowed from there easily. You couldn’t wipe the sappy smile from your face. 

Your dad stayed to advise until he could tell that Eddie had a good grasp on how to use the tools at his disposal, and jokingly made sure Eddie knew you were the one in charge whenever the two of you were left to your own devices. Eddie had responded with a mockingly serious salute, which only made your dad smile wider. 

“He likes you.” you’d said once you were sure your dad was out of earshot. 

Eddie huffed out an embarrassed chuckle, eyes staying focused on his work while the corner of his mouth quirked up in a sardonic smile. “Yeah, well, he probably just hasn’t heard much about me then.”

You studied him, half amused and half pained that he was once again refusing to take a compliment of his character. Turning your attention to the tiny wooden dowel you intended to turn into a perch for the birdhouse, you continued. “Oh he’s heard about you. Just, everything he’s heard, he heard from me. So no, no bad things.”

That got Eddie’s attention. “Really?” he asked incredulously, looking at you with one eyebrow raised. “No bad things? Not a single one?”

“Nope, no bad things. He’s heard annoying things, though. Infuriating things. I told him to warn the HOA about you.”

“Oh, did you now?”

“Scouts’ honor, we have a certain standard to uphold around here, you know.”                                                                                                                  

Twin smiles played on your lips, evidence for the joy it brought both of you to be around each other. You both worked wordlessly, letting the sounds of sandpaper and sharp tools on wood fill the pleasantly warm air in the shed. 

“What about you?”

His vague question earned a glance from your direction. “What about me?” you asked.

“Well, if I’m so infuriating and annoying, why do you care so much about whether or not I pass this class?” Eddie’s sentence trailed off into a breathy, nearly imperceptible tremor that told you he cared about your answer. 

“You might be infuriating and annoying,” you said, matter-of-fact, “but you’re smart. Way too smart to fail shop because of something as stupid as a missing grade.”

Eddie was quick to brush off your compliment. “You know some might say that missing a due date is something only a stupid person would do,” he looked up at you with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “so I would argue that that alone makes me-”

“Eddie, stop.”

His lips clamped shut. 

You placed the wooden pieces in your hands down on the floor before walking up to him and stopping about a foot from where he sat. Your eyebrows were drawn together menacingly, your arms were crossed over your chest, and your tone reminded Eddie of what it must be like to be in trouble with Mom.

“Look Munson,” you began sharply, “You are a very intelligent person. I am not saying that to flatter you because I couldn’t care less about giving you empty compliments or not. I’m just stating a fact: you are smart.” 

His gaze was trained on the floor, unsure what to do with himself. Brown eyes flicked up to yours through his dark chocolate curls and back down again.

“And I don’t know who made you think you’re so much of a lost cause that you give up before asking for help, but I’ve never been one to watch smart people let themselves down and be okay with it.” You held out your hand palm facing upwards between your chests. “So hand me the wood glue so I can give the lucky birds who get to live in this fancy joint a little perch to stand on.”

He did what you asked, quiet and hiding behind the curtain of his mane. It wasn’t until you were back in your seat that he finally spoke up.

“You know-” 

You looked up at him, a soft smile teasing the corner of your lips, and you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself as you processed the fondness that shone in his eyes. 

“-you’re a little scary when you’re angry.” 

You snorted. “Good. Maybe I can scare you into fulfilling your potential.” 

Eddie wasn’t sure what that potential was, exactly. His life was doomed from the start to complete its natural cycle within the same hundred square miles, so he figured his potential was to… work at the power plant with Wayne? Be a bartender at The Hideout? Drink himself to death when his life got too depressing to deal with anymore? 

Okay, maybe that last one was a little too dark. But realistically, he knew that would probably cross his mind after enough time spent in this hell-hole of a town. 

Now there was a smart girl telling him he was capable of more than that, and his first instinct was to wonder if Wayne had put you up to giving him a pep talk or something… but that was way too sneaky for Wayne, who had only heard about you in passing at this point, so there was no way he’d asked you... which meant that you, a smart girl, truly believed that he- Eddie Munson- was a smart guy. 

Huh. 

Well how about that.

True to his word, Mr. McCarthy accepted Eddie’s birdhouse when he brought it to class that Friday. He chuckled when he saw the little horned devil symbol painted in the corner on the back. He peered questioningly at Eddie when he caught sight of the pentagram that had been drawn on the floor of the inside, to which Eddie had replied, “In case they want to perform any ritualistic sacrifices in there.” 

When he’d handed Eddie his graded rubric, there were minimal notes written in red, but when Eddie looked at the little blank labeled ‘total’, nothing else mattered. 

90/100

Which meant that without the ten point deduction, Eddie would have made a 100%. His work- sans tardiness- was worth a 100%. Eddie was baffled, stunned- he couldn’t remember the last time his work had been deemed worthy of a ‘100’ circled in red pen at the top of his paper since elementary school.

“I got a 90%!” 

He was practically giddy when he told you. Shop was his last class of the day, after which he had run straight to your locker to show you the rubric. You were excited for him, of course, but you hadn’t been surprised in the slightest. 

“And that brings your average in the class up to…?” You asked with a knowing smile. 

Eddie clutched the precious page to his chest, swooning as he threw his back against the locker beside yours. “72.” He sighed, content and over the moon. “You’re a miracle worker, you know that? You took this sad, pathetic, stupid little boy-” He splayed a dramatic hand over his heart. “-and you wanna know what you did?” 

You smiled wryly, closing your locker door. “Uh huh?”

His face contorted in the most joyful way possible- a smile showing every tooth, crinkling the corners of his eyes, brow scrunching from the passion with which he gripped that flimsy piece of paper and shook it in your face.

“You got him a fucking A, you genius!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as the two of you walked through the halls to the theater department for Hellfire. “You did all the work! You got yourself  that A.”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Eddie wagged his pointer finger back and forth. “No, that’s not what I said, I said it was a fucking A.”

You looked at him, confusion evident in your eyes. “Yes, that’s what I said, you got yourself that A! I barely did a thing.”

He was quiet, grinning ear to ear as he narrowed his eyes on you. “Oh… oh you sweet, sweet thing…” 

Whoa now, that gave you butterflies. 

You casually turned your eyes in the opposite direction of where Eddie walked by your side, hoping he couldn’t sense your reaction. “What?”

Eddie chuckled, positioning himself directly in your line of sight. “Don’t hide from me, come on-” You looked up begrudgingly, taking in his amused expression. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say fuck.” 

“What? That’s ridiculous, I’ve said it.”

“Not in front of me!”

“Yeah, okay, I don’t say it often.” you shrugged, eyes darting literally anywhere but his face- again. “So what? There are so many other better words I could use-”

“But can you say it?” 

At that, your eyes met his, and you made sure to sprinkle a little venom into that eye contact. “Of course I can say it, I’m just choosing not to.” 

Eddie was undeterred. “Then choose to say it just this once, I want to know what the word ‘fuck’ sounds like in your sweet little innocent voice.” His puppy dog eyes glistened as he pouted. 

You glared, smacking your hand against a door that threatened to close before you could pass through it, and angrily shoving it aside. “I am not innocent or little, thank you very much.” 

“Awwww, come on, Ace,  just one little f-bomb?” 

“No.” 

“Not even for me?”

“No!”

“Uuugghhhh,” Eddie sighed, throwing up his hands exasperatedly as the two of you approached the twin set of doors that led to the auditorium. “Fine.” He hopped ahead of you, opening one of the doors for you. “After you.” 

You should have seen it coming, but you still yelped when Eddie jabbed his fingers into a tickle spot in the curve of your waist as you walked past him. 

“FUCK! Eddie!” you practically squealed. 

You shook your head in disbelief as he skipped down the narrow aisle of seats toward the stage, throwing a fist victoriously up in the air. 

“Hahaaa, there it is!” He cackled. 

You may have acted annoyed with him, but nothing could deny the brightness in your smile seeing him overtaken with so much joy. That joy translated so easily into his storytelling during D&D that when you had finished your work on the set for the play- which was only two weeks away now- you didn’t even pretend to be busy with anything else this time. You grabbed a wooden stool from backstage, tugged it close enough to the table to see the story playing out before you, and simply watched Eddie do one of the things in his life that truly made him come alive. 

What you didn’t realize was that there was now another thing that seemed to bring out the best parts of him the same way that D&D did, the same way that music did, the same way that curling up and rereading The Hobbit did. And when Eddie heard the drag of your wooden stool across the black surface of the floor, glanced over his shoulder and saw your eager, shining eyes glowing brightly at him, drinking in every word that left his lips- that was when he realized it.

 He realized that you were quickly becoming one of the things that made him love waking up in the morning.

Eddie had, admittedly, never been to a play before. He’d been in a play, but that was back in the fifth grade, and it was more of a Christmas pageant than an actual play. He had played one of the three wise men, and all he could remember from it was his teacher chewing him out for his improvised line- “Myrrh-y Christmas, Jesus”- when he’d placed his prop-gift into baby Jesus’ manger. That had been the prompt end of his acting career.

Now, as he tried his best to look nonchalant with his hands in his pockets, he couldn’t help but feel particularly out of place while his eyes frantically searched for a place to sit in the auditorium that would give him the perfect balance of empty seats and proximity to people he knew wouldn’t recognize him. The last thing he needed was another reason for his usual bullies to mess with him. 

“Munson! Hey, Eddie! Over here!”

Eddie’s attention flicked over to a seat toward the back, occupied by none other than Robin Buckley, who was absolutely ruining his efforts to act cool. He rushed to where she sat while trying his best to wordlessly communicate SHUT. UP. with only his eyes. Oblivious to Eddie’s plea, Robin patted the empty seat beside her.

“I didn’t know you would be here!” her voice was loud- that was something he already knew- but it still rang uncomfortably in his ears. 

“I’m right here, Buckley, no need to yell.” Eddie hissed, crouching in his seat as if he could make himself smaller just by trying. “Yeah, well I didn’t exactly have other plans, and I knew this was going on and…yeah.” 

Robin watched Eddie stumble through his poor attempt at nonchalance, a knowing grin taking up residence on her mouth. When he clumsily arrived at the end of his sentence, she simply kept smiling at him, which unnerved him greatly. He averted his eyes, leaning back in his chair and throwing an arm over the rest an elbow atop its back. “What?” he scoffed, once again trying to appear indifferent- it didn’t work well, at which Robin snorted. 

She shook her head, chuckling silently. “She’s going to be so happy you showed up.” 

Well if that didn’t make his chest feel as though it was about to inflate and fly away, nothing did.

Regardless, Eddie still acted cool- or tried to, at least. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.” but the red crawling up his neck and the sappy grin that he just couldn’t fend off gave him away. Robin groaned, pretending to be fed up even though she actually thought the way he reacted when you were simply mentioned was the cutest thing she’d ever seen in her life. Even though she knew he didn’t need reminding, she still said your name just to see if his blush would grow even deeper when he heard it. She was rewarded. 

Eddie nodded in recognition, sticking to his bit. “Oh yeah, I forgot she was helping out with this thing. That’s uh… that’s cool-”

“Oh shove it, Munson, quit playing the indifferent cool guy.” she shoved a finger in his face. “You like her.” 

He scoffed- again- and rolled his eyes a little too hard. “Lay off it, Buckley, we’re just friends.” 

Robin raised an eyebrow, obviously not buying it. “Really? That’s it?”

Eddie remained neutral in his tone, shrugging as if the whole situation were just that cut-and-dry. “Yup. That’s it.”

She looked at him for a long time- a long time, with a gaze so intense it made Eddie a bit uncomfortable. It felt like letting go of a breath he’d been holding when Eddie finally heard Robin’s “If you say so.” 

Eddie nodded. “I do say so.”

Judging by Robin’s facial expression, she still didn’t buy it, but she seemed willing to drop the topic. “Okay then.”

“Okay.” Eddie mumbled, just in time for the lights on the stage to go down. 

It only took about ten minutes of the play to go by for Eddie to start wondering if seeing you at the end of the production was going to be worth sitting here for an hour and a half. However, when the curtain had finally closed and he saw the look on your face upon seeing him standing there with Robin at the end of the arts hallway- that long hour and a half melted away. 

You were dressed all in black just like a few other crew members that Eddie saw scuttling about, carrying certain props and costume pieces. Pulling away from a hug that you’d bestowed upon Robin immediately after seeing her, your eyes focused on him and he couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Eddie Munson, did you actually sit through an entire theater production of your own free will?” you asked through a toothy smile. 

Hands in his pockets, Eddie shrugged and hid his smirk behind long stray curls. “Yeah, maybe.”

He was quiet. You were quiet. You were both just… smiling at each other. Like idiots. Robin shook her head in disbelief. 

“You’re both idiots.” she mumbled, dumbfounded.

You blinked. “What?”

“I said ‘Let’s go get burgers!’ I’m starving.” Robin began walking with you down the hall toward the exit. “Coming, Munson?”

You looked at him, wide-eyed. He struggled to read your expression- were you expecting Buckley to invite him? Were you hoping he would say yes? Say no? Eddie stuttered, clearing his throat. 

“I mean, if you want me to-”

You nodded, a little too quickly. “Yeah! I mean, if you want to-”

“I don’t want to impose-”

“Don’t feel like you have to-”

“Oh my god!” Robin stomped over to Eddie, grabbing him by his upper arm and dragging you in the same spot with her upper hand. “You both want food! Let’s go get food!” Eddie had to suppress a chuckle upon hearing Robin’s muttered ‘God, you two are fucking children’ under her breath. Your gazes connected behind Robin’s head, both of your faces sporting a small, crinkled grin- shy and sharing. 

Thank god for Robin. 

Eddie was happy to throw Robin’s bike in the back of his van; happy to drive the two of you to the diner downtown in lieu of meeting you there. Happy- and relieved- to discover that even though he had only ever spent time with you alone or with his friends, he was able to fall into comfortable conversation with you and your friend the same way that you had nestled your way into his friends’ routine so easily. It had been ages since one of the Hellfire members had glanced your way during a session, nervous to throw themselves into the game while an outsider was in the room waiting to judge them. They learned- Eddie learned- pretty quickly that you would never judge them. Pretty soon, you weren’t an outsider- you were just a part of their Friday plans. 

Eddie’s mind began to wonder, as he drove the two of you down the main road, now that the play was over, and you had no reason to keep showing up to Hellfire, what excuse would Eddie have to see you? Summer was fast approaching, so you wouldn’t be seeing each other at school each day either. Suddenly, Eddie wasn’t just wondering, he was worrying. Without an excuse to see you, would this burgeoning little friendship just…fall? Just stop? 

“Hey, Eddie? You awake over there?” you snapped your fingers by Eddie’s ear, and he flinched away slightly as a nervous laugh bubbled up his throat. 

“Sorry,” Eddie said, his voice light. “Just got lost in thought I guess.”

If the two of you were alone, you would have asked him what he was thinking about. However, Robin was here- it was a strange sort of limbo you felt you were in, your childhood best friend and your newly-discovered… friend. Crush. Maybe-crush? The way you felt about Eddie was becoming increasingly difficult for you to pinpoint. You knew you loved being around him. You knew that your heart had done a complete backflip when you’d seen him waiting with Robin after the play. Eddie Munson did not attend school functions. When you’d seen him at the winter formal years ago, you hadn’t even seen him inside- as far as you’d known, he hadn’t gone with a date… maybe he’d gone with friends? Or he was someone’s ride? Either way, the fact that he would go to a play simply because you were involved in it was certainly enough to give you heart palpitations.

When the three of you arrived at the diner, the energy was a little odd between the three of you. Robin watched as you and Eddie had gone from comfortably chatty to eerily quiet. It seemed that you both were caught up in your own spiraling thoughts, and the awkwardness that it was causing was going to make Robin scream if it didn’t stop soon.

“So Eddie,” Robin said as you all sat down in one of the plasticky blue booths in the diner, “what are your summer plans?”

It seemed to take a second for Eddie to register what Robin was asking; he tilted his head to the side, taking a second to consider. “Haven’t thought about it…honestly, I figured I might be busy with summer school or something if I wasn’t passing all my classes-”

“-Which, you are.” you interrupted, a soft, proud smile on your lips.

Eddie laughed, and Robin couldn’t help but notice that his biggest smiles always happened when he was looking at you.

“Yeah, thanks to you.” Eddie replied, quickly turning to the waitress as she walked up to your table, closing the window of time you had to deny the credit he was hell-bent on giving you. The three of you each ordered a burger and a milkshake before Robin took it upon herself to carry on the conversation. 

“Think you’ll get a summer job?” she asked Eddie with a nefarious grin. “You could work at Scoops with us, you get a pretty sweet outfit out of the gig.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, “Hah! I’ll pass on the shorts, thanks.” 

You cursed your brain for conjuring up the image of Eddie in shorts, then proceeded to burn that image in your brain.

“You bring up a good point, though,” he mused, “Wayne and I could use the money. I pick up odd jobs around the neighborhood, but most of the old farts around the park just throw me whatever they find between their couch cushions.” 

The waitress set your shake in front of you, which you eagerly grabbed and took a sip. “I can keep an eye out for places that are hiring, if you want.” You smiled at Eddie, bright red straw lightly resting against your lips. 

“Yeah?” he asked hopefully, “Just don’t go asking at any places where I’ll have to wear some stupid outfit.”

“Hey!” you narrowed your eyes on him, a teasing glint in your gaze. “I happen to think I look cute in that stupid outfit.”

Eddie had no doubt that you did, but he wasn’t about to tell you that. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mr. Smee.” 

Robin snorted, shaking her head at the two of you. She was astounded at your combined talents for ignoring the undeniable chemistry that the two of you had whenever you shared each others’ spaces. She saw it all- the way he seemed so completely unaffected by everything except for you. The way that whenever he was around, you couldn’t peel your eyes away from him. The way that you both refused to admit that your friendship had an expiration date- you both wanted to be more than friends, and that much was clear as day to Robin. It was only a matter of time before one of you cracked. A ticking time bomb.

Robin resolved to confront you about it at some point. Not tonight; tonight, she was content to watch the two of you idiots tripping over yourselves while you pretended not to be absolutely besotted with each other- it was free entertainment. But she’d ask you about it soon. 

For now, she settled for laughing at the way you pretended to be mad at Eddie as he spent the whole meal trying to sneak fries from your plate. 

Part 4

[saltygilmores]

THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS: S3/EP6: TAKE THE DEVILED EGGS (Pt 2) (This One's Gonna Be a Real Rage Inducer) (Lots Of Interesting Development Though) (So many things happening) (Salty Rambles about Jess Mariano's Birthday)

There is something to be said about Luke (on multiple occasions) readily admitting he pays Jess in ketchup packets to toil in the Coffee Mines more or less against his will. I get that it's just a part time job after school...before school..while he's cutting school..always working...never stopping...never reicieving any tips from Lorelai and Rory... Rory needs a job... Rory and Lorelai need to pay for their food... Anyway these comments shed a light on the shaky economies of small businesses in small towns which is interesting to me. Gilmore Girls is really, at it's core, a show about class. One day he could wake up to find his diner has been turned into a Dunkin Donuts (this is Not-Quite-But-Almost-New England after all, where DD is king).

Hahahahaha!! Jess stole money to buy a car and he committs attempted murder! Hahahahaaha! You're SO FUNNY LORELAI GILMORE. Your daughter stole a boat.

Yeah. And maybe back home, he did had to steal to survive sometimes. How about them apples, Lorelai Gilmore. God, do I loathe her.

Don't say that around Lorelai, I think she'd believe you were being serious.

A couple of the moots and I recently decided that in the recent past, Liz managed to land and then lose a halfway decent boyfriend/ father figure to Jess who had a car and taught Jess to drive and do repairs and some other light adulting. I honestly feel like this is the only thing that makes sense.

HE LOOKS SO GOOD IN THIS SCENE!!! Fuck meeee. Look at that li'l curl...

LOOK AT IT!!!! You know what, I'm calling it. I'm putting my foot down. This is the hottest Milo had ever looked in the entirety of seasons 2 and 3. It's that perfectly gelled hair, the jean jacket, the cool tshirt. Very James Dean. Woof. Let's see, what would I choose for second place? I have to go with the party scene in KegMax, another episode with impeccably jelled hair and a jean jacket (and even while he was apparently sick shooting that episode too). He just progresses in hotness the further season 3 marches on.

These four words "I'm still a minor" are a point of contention for me in the ongoing debate about his birth month. My beliefs: Jess is a Virgo. He was born in August or early September. This would make him just older than Rory by just a smidge. Since well over a year has passed in the show since the episode he arrived in Stars Hollow as a 17 year old (when he arrived, it was early September as Rory had just started school in that episode), he had just celebrated his birthday before arriving and so he has to have already turned 18 by this episode. However, I will consider the theory that Luke was clueless or misinformed about his age at the time he arrived (because it's not like LIz is in any way reliable with information) and he was actually 16 going on 17 when he hopped off the bus last year, and maybe he has an October or November birthday making him slightly younger than Rory. It would make sense that both missed the kindergarten cut off dates in 1989 at their respective schools (which is rock solid canon already for Rory, as she was born in October 84 but graduated in 03 instead of 02), putting them in the same grade.

Salty has put a pathetic amount of thought into this. So, how can I accept this statemen? I attribute it to the same brand of biting sarcasm that gave us "I mugged an old lady" moments ago and also because this scene doesn't make a whole lot of sense to begin with. He's still a minor, but he got his own insurance all by himself under his own name, which is not really a thing, but not his own car registration? Committing insurance fraud perhaps? Sketchy insurance company that didn't ask too many questions? He knows a guy who knows a guy who can print up some fake documents? At that point why not go all the way with the white collar crimes and forge Luke's signature on the registration too? See, Lorelai thinks Jess is a thief and murderer when he's really a white collar criminal like Taylor Doose.

My memory was certain that he produced a cigarrette and not a pen in this scene. I had to edit this post to remove a line about him smoking. I guess I confused it with the Then She Appears/ Cmurrh kissing scene, where he's also wearing a jean jacket with a popped collar. Damn. I can't wait for that scene...

Just some light fraud. If the car belonged to someone in Stars Hollow, whoever's registration he stole probably deserved it anyway. This is how I approach all "Crimes" Jess commits in Stars Hollow. There are only a few people who don't deserve it. Your honor, my client is innocent.

Oh no, the couch of doom. No good conversations ever happens between Rory and Lorelai on the couch, especially after one of them comes home at night and finds the other one on the couch. The Gilmores recieve an invitation to Sherry's baby shower. The moots and I have determined that Doula and Gigi will eventually band together to form the most powerful duo of neglected half sisters the world has ever seen. For the record, today Doula would be 17 and Gigi would be 21. Since Jess eventually comes to adopt and raises Doula she has a somewhat decent chance of coming out a well adjusted adult. At the very least, if she was stuck with TJ and Liz, Jess would still be a positive influence on her life, visit her and look out for her and make sure she didn't get sucked into any cults. The odds are a lot more grim for Gigi with Crusty and Sherry as her forever "parents" and let's face it, very likely her relationship with big sister Rory or any of the other Gilmores is non existent.

And things were so peaceful. Especially since Dean hasn't reared his ugly head in the last two episodes, either.

You flip flop with Crusty so much how can anyone possibly keep track of whether you're on the outs with him or banging him at any given time?

And by saying that out loud you're gonna tip the balance of the universe and he's going to show up. I looked ahead and although this is sadly still a Crusty-Focused episode, he doesn't actually make an appearance. Small blessings. To Lorelai's surprise, Rory admits that she's been in contact with Crusty and Lorelai is okay with it but upset that Rory was hiding it from her. God, he's such a parasite.

Emails. How quaint.

Highly debatable.

[zoyaofthegardvn]

hiii, love your work sm! i was wondering if you could maybe write headcanons for dating modern au!zoya? thank you sm 💓 keep doing what you are doing

Modern!Zoya Headcanons

A/N: Awh thanks so much! That's so kind! I love this idea, thank you for requesting :)

CW: None that I can think of!

I think you two def meet at school, maybe the same university

Like I really think it'd be an academic rivals to lovers type thing

Maybe you two have different majors though, like you're doing English Literature and she's in Political Science

But, your minor is Poli Sci, and her minor is English

So, you two have a crossover class at least once a semester

You're way better at writing essays than she is, but she can memorize and recite the hell out of court cases, laws and legal standards, current events, etc.

You're always neck and neck for top of the class, and you two share an equal amount of wins

It took a solid three semesters before you two realized you worked better as a team

So you two very hesitantly started studying together, doing homework together, even collaborating on projects and papers

Then slowly, study dates turned into date dates

And I don't think either of you really noticed

Until you were suddenly not letting her pay for her own coffee and meals

And she was picking you up from your apartment to drive you to campus every day, even when you didn't have a class together

And when you packed some snacks, you brought her some, too

And she always brought another sweatshirt, because the campus Starbucks is freezing and you never bring one

And then you start going off campus, grabbing dinner at local restaurants, seeing movies, going to the damn farmer's market every Saturday morning

She comes to see you at work, bringing you a drink

You start staying over at her place when studying runs a bit late

Until eventually, you're having a wine night, at your place this time, and Zoya kisses you

You're struggling to uncork the first wine bottle of the evening, and she's laughing, but you refuse to give up and let her try

Your hands are sweaty, and you can't focus because you're laughing too, her happiness being infectious

She grabs the bottle from your hand, and when your skin meets, you blush

She doesn't let go of your hand as she sets the bottle on the counter

You look at her funny, her laughter dying down quickly, her face serious

Before you can ask her what's wrong, she surges forward, pecking your lips

It's so quick, you don't even get the chance to kiss back

She pulls away, eyes wide, apologies spilling from her lips

Then you're grabbing her face and kissing her too, stopping her rambling, soothing her worries

When you pull away, breathless, you ask, "How long have you wanted to do that?"

"Since sophomore year," she says, and kisses you again

You two are exclusive immediately after that

And she lets everyone know

She posts a sweet picture of the two of you on her socials, you kissing her cheek while she smiles big

It's not the first time you appeared on her page, and the comments were flooded with "It's about time," and "omg finally!!" and "I knew it."

You hold her hand all the time in public, wrap an arm around her waist, keep a hand on her lower back

She's always kissing your cheek when you two depart, and she even steals a kiss on the lips if campus isn't especially busy

You make a highlight on your Instagram page of pictures of her, because you post one nearly every day

And her profile picture is from the day you had told her you loved her for the first time, and she decides that it will literally never change

Second semester of senior year, though it's just one more semester, you two move in together

She plans to begin working for an agency she'd been interning with, and you'll start a Master's program right after undergrad

Your apartment is full of pictures together, bookshelves, plants, string lights, good food (Zoya cooks for you a lot) and lots of seating

You two host your friends all the time

Genya, David, Alina, Nikolai, Tamar, and Tolya are there at least twice a week

Your home is always full of laughter and love, I truly think you two almost never fight and when you do, it's over in minutes

You two graduate, party with your friends, and spend the evening together.... celebrating in other ways (iykyk)

Her first day full time at her new job, you pack her lunch and make her take a "first day" picture, and she's scowling in it but you don't mind

When you start your Master's after a summer off, she's helping you with homework even when you insist she doesn't have to do that

You two make it a priority to have at least one date night a week, even though you have busy schedules

She works weird hours sometimes, and you have to juggle school on top of your part time job

But you make it work

You either see a movie and grab dinner, or go for a walk in a local park and bring home take out, or grab drinks and cheap food, or you go to a local museum and get coffee beforehand

Anything that's just you two

Nights with friends don't count as date night

You like to be alone together, to fall impossibly deeper in love the closer you grow

And I think that after your Master's program is over, when you get a job offer in another state, you two have the biggest and really the only terrifying fight of your relationship

You propose long distance, and Zoya resists, claiming that you two had been way too serious for way too long for that kind of relationship to start now

You want to go, and Zoya wants you to, too, but you need to start the job within two weeks, and Zoya isn't ready to leave your college town behind so fast

But the opportunity is one you thought you'd only ever dream of, and Zoya would never deprive you of that

But Zoya needs time to find a position in the city you'd move to, she needs to talk to and say goodbye to her friends, she needs to find a home for the two of you to start over again in, because she loved your shared apartment and is scared to leave it

After two nights of staying in different rooms, snapping at each other, crying, even throwing around the idea of breaking up, you have enough

"Damnit, Zoya, we're going to be together forever and you fucking know that!"

"I thought I did, but you're the one that's so ready to leave!"

"This is my dream, Z, how can I turn it down?"

"I'm not asking you to say no, I'm asking for time."

"Time you know I don't have."

It feels like your heart is broken, and Zoya feels the exact same way

She'd follow you anywhere, but she didn't think it would come so fast, with so little time to adjust

And she knows it isn't your fault

So when you climb into the bed in the guest room, crying and shaking, she holds you to her chest, she rubs your back, she kisses your head

She lets herself cry, too, and the both of you fall asleep, finally finding comfort in at least being back in the same room

The next morning, you ask her to talk to you, calmly. No more yelling, no more anger, no more sadness

She agrees, of course. Apologies are exchanged, kisses are shared, and you two begin to figure out how to make this work

You confess to her that honestly, you're ready to really start a life together. Marriage, kids, a permanent home.

She confesses she felt the same, and she was worried that you wanting to leave meant that that wasn't what you wanted

You two decide that you'll leave first, you'll start the job, and Zoya will come stay with you every so often as you survey the area for a house to buy

It's a huge step for the both of you, buying a house, but you want to prove to each other that this is forever

And you want to show Zoya that you're not running away from anything, but you want her to run towards something with you

It takes about four months, four long months hardly being around one another, but you finally find a house you both feel like you could see yourselves growing in

Zoya has landed a job with the local FBI field office, a huge accomplishment for her, and you two spend her weekend in the city celebrating and crying tears of joy

You get to move in to your home about a month later, and so really, five months you two spent long distance, and you're both beyond excited for it to be over

Alina and Genya travel with Zoya to help the two of you move in and set up, and after a few days, they have to return home

You share tearful goodbyes, but mostly, you're excited to have your home to yourselves

You share a meal, take out from a local place you'd been raving about for months, the plates laid out on your cardboard box coffee table

The furniture could wait to be built, you just wanted to soak in your first night in your home

And you had gotten the bed put together, which was the most important part ;)

But when the meal is done, and you get up to drag her to the bedroom, she stops you, a loving smile on her face

She pulls out a little box from her back pocket, and you instantly burst into tears

She tears up, too, and her hand shakes as she pulls the box open, a ring you couldn't have picked better yourself nestled inside

She can't even finish asking you to marry her before your squealing, nodding, throwing your arms around her and kissing her as you chant "yes, yes, of course I'll marry you" into her mouth

And so, the first night the two of you spend in your new home, alone, the newest journey of your shared life together, you spend as fiancees.

[jayflrt]

hii akka !!! thanks for the tips and i hope to follow. actually whenever i see some youtube videos, most of them use didgital planners like notion, good notes (?) and some aesthetic apps like those.

and i thought i could do like them but figured out that written ones are best that planning digitally, hehe. but i still remember how people romanticised having digi notes, digi planners and etc. omg i used to cry why i didnt have those. but i realised things which are available for me are the best 😊

i want to ask a few things about these enha writers who are literal teenagers 😭 they write about suggestive content and say they dont write smut. i hope i am not wrong with knowing the meaning of suggestive which means leading or making them thinking in a sexual way right?? or suggesting them to do something like that?? and then they say they are literally minors and nsfw blogs, dni !!!!

and the way the (most) enha writers romanticise the term 'aesthetic' so much like using small texts, aesthetic pictures and aesthetic layouts. its like so hard to find their about me or rules or masterlist 😭😭 like why do they use small text, i cant see shit.

i wonder who started like having aesthetic blogs and made new writers create like that. its so burdensome to do something here and you get criticism of how your blog should be.

and these enha writers– i never saw them appreciating enhypen, be it about jay's whodunit solo and going to glay's concert and performing and nor did they appreciate sunghoon on becoming hince's new ambassador.

i am not saying it's necessary as a fan but atleast during the bare minimum for them. and the amount of smut content i see on tumblr about enhypen is 😠 so much. everything they do, people here sexualize them.

i still remember when i first came on tumblr, 2021?? the 01 and 02z werent even 20 istg, i see smut about them everywhere and now wonie is 20, and they be like "lets goo!! he's 20" and im afraid for riki these day.

i just dont want these stupid people and standards to become popular. wherever i see, its smut, suggestive content written by minors and those small text and aesthetic layouts.

i hope someone agrees with me, and i am ready to get cancelled to rant like this. come over to me, i want opinions from people who stay silent about situations like these, especially writing smut or suggestive content.

— 🦔 anon

hihi 🦔 anon!!! sorry for the late reply, i got so busy for a bit 🥲 but omg i use goodnotes and notion too but i don't think mine are as aesthetic as the people i've seen on tiktok on stuff 🤧 i remember i took an architecture class and made my notes really nice for like the first week and after that it was back to regular note taking LOL but yeah i prefer writing stuff down in a physical planner because i feel so satisfied when i cross out a task 😌

tbh i haven't been reading much on tumblr lately but in my understanding (which i also answered in the previous ask), suggestive is an implication of sexual content but not explicit sexual content, but i also think people use it just for writing like makeout sessions or smthn like that 😵‍💫 at least that's what i think idk if things are different !!

omg i remember when people on twitter used to make their carrds so elaborate and i'd be spending 5 minutes just trying to get to their dni list because there was a whole minigame to get to the actual information 😭 i get what you mean tho! i think people are free to customize their blogs however they like but can also be mindful that some things aren't exactly reader-friendly, especially for people who rely on screen readers

oh yes honestly there is a LOT of smut content that goes around for barely legal members and it is a little concerning how people jump to sexualize idols 😵‍💫 as for appreciating enha, i give more people the benefit of the doubt on that because i personally use tumblr more as a creative outlet and talk about enha more on twitter, so i assume others do the same if they don't talk about enha on their blogs

honestly i'm not surprised that smut is such a big genre on tumblr (not only tumblr but most if not all fanfic spaces) because a lot of people crave intimacy but do so in private because most people are in sexually repressed societies. it's the same reason why porn is one of the top searches on the internet and why romance and erotica are becoming the top genres for published books. BUT with that being said i do agree that sometimes that creative freedom is abused with how some people jumped to sexualize maknae line as soon as they were of legal age :/

[sunnylolli]

So in the US we get accepted into the whole school, not just a specific program. Then everyone takes the same general classes at first (writing, science, art, etc.) before picking what they want to get a degree in later. Because you can take any classes you want, so long as you still take the ones needed to get at least one degree, we have major and minor areas of study. So your major is what you get a degree in, but you can also have a minor in something else which will be added onto your major degree. So for example, someone wanting to go into biotech can major in computer science and minor in biochem. Didn't know if you were curious about what major actually means lol

It sounds wild, but hearing other countries' systems where u start full speed in a specific program sounds wild to me! I switched from engineering to heath in my 3rd year, you're telling me that outside the US I would've been trapped in engineering????

Also, the program you're doing sounds like the equivalent to co-op programs in the US. However, by law you still have to take the same amount of classes to get a degree because working doesn't replace the credits, meaning it takes longer than 4 years to graduate 😖

Ooo, thank you for explaining!

We actually already do that in Gymnasium (Grade 10-13, high school equivalent I think)

So in "High School" we had different "Lines" you could choose; Like "Global line", "Social Science Line", "Mathematics Line" etc., each with different mandatory classes and add ons you could choose yourself.

(Note: You could choose several different kinds of Gymnasium, each specialized within a certain category. E.g. Stem, Business, General Gymnasium, etc.)

I chose the general gymnasium and I chose to "major" in Mediascience and "Minored" in Psychology, while I had a set of classes I had to take, like Math, Danish, History, etc.

So what you're explaining I already sort of did that in Gymnasium!

Then for Uni, you apply for the education you want to go for, so Psychology, Stem, Pedagogy, and so on. I would've applied for a bachelor's in Psychology but my GPA isn't high enough for it, so I'm taking a backdoor :,)

Degrees are offered like that individually at the schools, so VIA university college is what I've gotten into, but I can't mix and match like I could in high school

At least not to the same degree, I can, in the third or fourth semester, choose a specific add-on class to personalize and specialise the education to fit me personally, but it can't stray too far from the actual education.

(I remember in gymnasium how absolutely bullshit hard it was to have to put my focus on so much all at once.

Like I had so many different things I needed to study for that I seriously barely made it through.

I had to juggle social life, self discovery, partying, school life, with tons of work. So Uni giving me more space to actually dive into something specific that I'm interested in and letting me speak to likeminded people who I (sorta) know have the same interest as me is a RELIEF.

Like I understand how it can feel claustrophobic, especially when you're used to something way different - But I find it like a breath of fresh air to not have to worry about ten different subjects all at once, but have all of them, in some way, be related to one another :,)

[boobiespasta]

instead of rambling on twitter in its cramped, claustrophobic threads format i've chosen. just the one time. to ramble here. some of the stuff that's been bouncing around in my head for the past 2 weeks. it's weird being so hyperfixated on life instead of media for a change, which really isn't as sexy and awesome as i think it's cracked up to be because instead of rambling about silly creatures from a fictional universe all i do now is just. ramble about life. the times. and i'm just gloomy about it all the time. extremely long winded ramble about politics under the cut

i absolutely refuse to shut up about palestine for one. a palestinian alumni/fellow of my school, his family, his children, all one of the absolutely fucking unforgivable amount of refugees in the jabalia camp who were killed. obviously he is so, so far from the only life to have been taken in the atrocities, but my fucking school's newspaper has been fucking things up spectacularly when it comes to "coverage" and my school in general just. i get so fucking angry. our alumns are dying and yet my school chooses in its official statements to mostly address israel and the alleged peril our jewish student population... when i've been following on ig every palestinian student org for my school i can find and they've been begging for some publicity or support from the school it's just so fucking vile. it makes me so upset that i got lazy and literally was too busy gaming the day of transfer apps and now i'm stuck at this fucking... state uni, possibly rotting here for my undergrad. at the same time god forbid i follow in my father's ivy league footsteps and shoot for ivy league because fucking COLOMBIA and UPENN are being TARGETTED by the FUCKING c2n@ry or5aniz@ti0n which. i literally cannot fucking express how fucking angry the fact that that exists at all makes me. the future of our generation's activism is cast deep in the shadow of our incompetent fucking predecessors. god forbid we get younger voices in power! god forbid we protest to make a difference, lest we get actual targets put on our heads! and i've listened to the contrary as much as i loathed to, because that's what makes a productive opinion. synthesis. and i have never felt less compelled by a counter stance before. every day videos of parents holding the dismembered limbs of their children, israelis making a tiktok trend out of kidnapping and or mocking palestinians, the sitting head of the UN in new york releasing a letter of resignation because of the anguish he feels watching an organization dedicated to peace fail so miserably at its job... all of it should radicalize everyone. people should be making calls to their representatives, keeping discussions frequent. making sure everyone around you knows that antizionism does NOT equal antisemitism. i will not argue to the contrary; i grew up conservative and with a devil's advocate personality, and i think anyone even considering a neutral stance should genuinely be ashamed of themselves.

in other only slightly less depressing news, taking a class on korean diaspora has made me go through so many different identity shifts in the past few weeks and i feel like it's just made me gloomier. i'm taking an upper classman seminar class about korean diasporic activism through performing arts which was so hilariously specific that i laughed when i realized it was my only option (i tested out of every other korean level) and i was like well i'm korean diaspora this should be so easy but it's genuinely the most challenging class i've ever taken. every week lately i've just cried and cried reading the texts we're assigned to read because i've never felt so seen and so doomed before. i did a presentation on a WONDERFUL text excerpt by professor emerita at uc berkeley elaine h. kim that spoke to all of the racism i endured growing up, the first generation child that "rises above" their immigrant parents and finds success in the model minority mold by exploiting, exoticizing, fetishizing their own identity... i learned in the past few weeks (so genuinely very recently) that, despite my appearance, i'll never be a true korean; a native korean will never understand the extent of the discrimination i faced. being afraid to eat ethnic food in front of peers fear of it being called smelly or stolen altogether, getting slotted into the japanese/chinese binary categories before the rise of kpop, why i get so excited to see ethnic korean faces and food, my struggle to take my diverse interests and fit them into a cookie cutter mold to one of the most violently homogenous societies on earth, why any korean child in america like me would ever want to be white if that meant we wouldn't stick out. nor am i a true american; this being more self explanatory, of course. what does that make me? an imbricate mongrel of the two identities? i learned, in fact, that i am korean-american: something almost entirely independent of both nationalities. i learned that korean-americans have a rich history of finding ourselves in places we don't belong and making establishing loud communities to fight for our own rights. immigrating to hawai'i in the early 1900's, establishing committees and supporting our motherland who ultimately turned around and spat in our faces. our new place was almost just as unwelcoming; and after weaseling our way into black communities without first addressing racism, koreans found ourselves at the apex of black and brown anger across america during the la riots (to be korean-american is to be born with the blood of latasha harlins on your hands). we were desperate to distance ourselves from the japanese, triply in a bout of patriotic self-perceived superiority, rise beyond a race of people who tried to ethnically cleanse us, and in an attempt to prove we were "one of the good ones," but we were still placed in japanese internment camps. we're still expected to prostrate ourselves at the feet of every wrinkly us vet with a korean war badge on their hat. "we saved your gook asses."

but to be asian-american at all is also to be doomed to a life of never rising beyond the model minority ceiling. the model minority "model" as it were promises a life of permanent mediocrity in exchange for some semblance of security (and even then we're a dime a dozen; all competing against each other and evolving like bacteria, we cannibalize ourselves anyway and suddenly our employers' jobs have gotten that much easier). those who try to rise beyond the model and prove themselves to society more often than not, not deemed exemplary, but instead seen as having fulfilled their life cycle or reached their point of maturity in the "life of the species" (chay yew); they're in turn locked into to a life of monotony as they've "found their niche" as analyst hyeon youngbin puts it... "everything one achieves after entering the system is attributed not to the individual’s ability but to the efficacy of model minority status; the more you achieve, the more you justify the model minority." asian-americans in particular will always, no matter what they do, perpetuate the model minority in our attempts to achieve our "ideal labour" (youngbin); those who defy it suffer for it and are seen as asians who failed or weren't smart enough, those who fit comfortably into it perpetuate its abuse and are oftentimes miserable (as one tends to be living a life in servitude of/being a poster child of capitalism despite rarely being rewarded for it), and those who try to challenge and overcome it simply come to realize that the ceiling is both low and infinite, and that they, if anything, are inadvertently the most aggressive contributors to model minority-isms.

anyway. ive been really bothered and gloomier than usual because of this shit. its nice to be able to type it all out without the breaks in concentration between thread tweets

[karaelnsn]

i thought about this idea in class and kept thinking about it so

said idea was "what if ian became the CEO instead how would that turn out".

Also known as: "Proof I don't really understand Rebirth at the base level", and a crack AU that's for hypothetical sandboxing. High likelihood of OOC. +

So basically: Seth sets his head on pure business and Ian ends up as the CEO, even with all of Noah's best efforts to pander. Ian's happy, Noah isn't, and they live their lives knowing full well Noah doesn't like this result but can't do shit about it. And I think there's pretty minor changes that result in big differences in dynamics and stuff.

Ian: He's obviously pretty satisfied with this outcome, and likely deviates heavily from what ARC is like in the OU -- maybe more covered tracks, less rumors (or more), definitely better control and understanding of the company and media portrayal. He also likely doesn't look older than his actual age. And given this is what he wanted, maybe he has less of a vibe about Seth and Noah. But generally the rest of his character should remain the same -- that he turned out disgusting and is accepting of the corruption that they developed in. Do I think Ian would taunt Noah about it? Not really, since he didn't work with the idea that he was ever a player to begin with. I think Ian would let Noah try out being the CEO (or a co-president at the bare minimum) a few times if he just.. didn't feel like being the boss for a day or so. Yeah, yeah, he would probably do that and write it off as delegating and interning. Would Noah get paid for it.. Uhh, maybe? Ian didn't sound stingy, but very hungry to see big numbers. I think he'd be okay with letting go of a small amount of profit. Would Iva end up being trained to overtake him in the future though.. Maybe? But I don't think he'd see a businesswoman in her and starts looking at his nephew or brother instead. Being prepared and.. stuff. I think he'd be more interested in having the kids take over, because Noah could drop dead before he can get the chance to make him do it when he's had enough of it for the last time -- and the kids are generally healthier than the both of them. Would Ian give up on being a hedonistic hooker..? NDA. I think he'd be more interested in making contracts to shut mouths than shutting his legs. I just don't think he'd give up on playing around and getting dirty, regardless of which way he does it.

Lena: These two likely stay married, given the reason of why they married in the first place -- but Lena still hates the fuck out of the guy. Not too much she can do about it though, so she stews about it. Iva: Iva remains largely the same, but gets to see extended family more regularly than OU and probably doesn't make the distinction as blatantly -- so maybe she more calls them Brother Abel, Neo and whatnot. I don't think she'd get corrected on it because it's really not that big of a deal.

Noah: He's likely not as satisfied as Ian is and takes a bit to come around to the idea that it's okay to not be the big CEO, but he will eventually. I don't think he has as much beef with Ian here, so he likely stays in the house with Ian and co. However, I do think he would be making good use of the stock and be prosperous even without the cooler position, because stocks ain't so bad if you know the game of the market. He'd likely need to relearn how to use that big mouth though. I don't know if he'd stay with Parish for the kids but I don't think Noah knows what its like to be a child of divorce either since his mom is dead and Ian's is.. no idea. Did they ever talk about that? I don't think so, because Ian's not a big conversation topic and by proxy neither is his mom.

Parish: Pali is. Well. Opportunistic and I guess she hangs out w/Ian in secret but still plays charades with Noah. Maybe she'd want to be a little more extravagant but she'd still not want to cause such a scandal and get her ass whooped. I think their relationship would also be a lot more covered up than how they went about it in the OU, since I think Ian was more sloppy just so Noah knew that he did that and that. he could get away with it..

Neo: I think that fucked up relationship of his with his family would still be here, but have a different flavor to it. What flavors I don't know. I do not know. But it'd probably be more of "my uncles are weird and we all have this beef we dont wanna talk about and i dont. really. get it" Because the essence for it was "Neo is not biologically Noah's child, and Noah deeply hated that fact about him -- even if he was otherwise still Noah's child" and a small factor was that Noah couldn't do anything about it because he was the CEO and it'd be bad press that he'd have to stress about shutting up. In this universe though, I think Noah could do something about if not for how it would affect the rest of the family, so it's likely that he'd stew in this but still have to dissolve this factor to be a parent. I think Noah would get around to it a bit faster though, since he doesn't have to worry about the world as much.

Abel: Same with Neo -- still dysfunctional, different tastes, but treated faster before fully developing into that thick ugly stuff.

Li: I think she'd still be here, honestly. While what made her meet the family via Noah was picking out a suitable guard, it was Noah's requests that let her stay around. I think she'd end up as more of Noah's personal handler/caretaker in this life, since I guess Ian would get his own SBG (even if SBGs are still pretty strange to me). It'd be a little odd to have both sons get a SBG but, ehh, I think it'd be chill.

Seth: He definitely has his feelings about it, but business, profit, and favoritism are separate things. He likely accepts that ultimately, this is what will be happening going forward -- and it might be better for Noah, at least, to not be caught up in this kind of work that he knew full well Noah would have to be cracked down to be okay with. Now that I mention it, Noah probably would have stronger morals and beliefs than he does now.

-- I don't think this AU affects whether or not Armageddon happens -- because per Peach's conclusions and my own paraphrasing -- Neo made Arma happen because he wants so badly to live that the universe bent to his will and World will do everything to correct his status. As for how this affects other characters -- a substantial amount of those problems would convert to being Ian's problem (like press, profit, rumors, etc), and the rest stay either Neo's (e.g. Bai Leng) or Noah's problem (e.g. Olivier). I mean, I guess they are Ian's problems via proxy/relations, but they're still not really his problem. That makes sense, right?

-- Onto more trivial stuff: I think Ian's style would be more of a thing that goes around in the house. I think he'd do that "sexy maid" costume for his amusement but then change it out for a more covering uniform because it's not as funny as he thought and also it's just so ugly.

Regarding specific characters: Li would get her own special uniform to indicate she handles a specific person and shouldn't be bothered with other tasks unless directly related to hers. I think Noah would have a more generic heartrate monitor, given he's not the President. Like one that straps to his chest and clamps to his finger. There likely would also be an actual monitor nearby, which means it'd feel like hospital all the time, but I think that's okay.

Should it be a thing/semi-frequent occurrence that Ian "delegates" his duties to Noah, I think he'd end up getting a nominal title of "Co-President." It's possible they settle into running the company together because it's more convenient to Ian than running it alone.

I don't think the line between immediate and extended family would be heavily drawn, especially with Iva. Since Ian has no reason to move Noah out of the household beyond "I just don't like this guy." After all, they do live in a mansion and it's pretty convenient for multiple branches of a popular family to live together.

the drawings i made while (not) thinking this out. also the paint brush asset is 1760641 under "Paint". and the line brush is 2078723 - "Watery Ink Brush - clean"

i dont think i fucked up too hard here and even if i did.. whatever

[amplesalty]

Halloween 2024 - Day 2 - Dead 7 (2016)

The best supergroup since The Traveling Wilburys...

Apologies for the immediate tangent but for once this is a fresh addition to 'the list' so I can actually document how it came to be there. Just the other day Butterfly by Crazy Town came up on my playlist and I was reminded how their lead singer, Shifty Shellshock (…okay), passed away earlier this year. It was on his Wikipedia that I learned that he has a very brief filmography of this film, Willowbee and 1994's Clifford.

Which incidentally is potentially one of my favourite movie posters of all time based purely on Charles Grodin's expression. This movie by the way isn't about a big red dog, Grodin only makes dog movies about St. Bernards.

And it was on the entry for today's film that I proceeded to sit in shock and awe at the text that in front of me. A post-apocalyptic zombie horror western movie written and starring Nick Carter, yes that Nick Carter, and produced by The Asylum. That alone would have me interested but wait, there's more. Nick is joined by a veritable supergroup of 90's boy band alumni with entrants from Backstreet Boys, NSYNCH, 98 Degrees, O-Town and All-4-One…oh my! Given The Asylum's reputation of being a mockbuster studio, this film very much smacks of The Magnificent Seven mixed with The Walking Dead, though they're about 6 years late to the party on that Walking Dead part. Releasing within a week or so of the original with a near enough exact same name is more their style.

In the post apocalytic world, a witch doctor priestess type woman named Apocalypta threatens to raise a zombie army to overthrow what little of humanity remains so that she can take over the world (of course!). It's up to a rag tag crew of miscriants from Desert Springs to fight back and save humanity, which is where our Magnificent Seven comes up.

Jeff Timmons (98 Degrees) as Billy Sullivan, generic hero man

Carrie Keagan (not musically inclined) as Daisy Jane, generic hero man's girlfriend with the big knockers to keep male viewer's interested

Nick Carter (Backstreet Boys) as Jack Sullivan, Rick Grimes lite

Joey Fatone (NSYNC) as Whiskey Joe, the only actual decent character by way of him being the fun drunk

Howie Dorough (Backstreet Boys) as Vaquero, the Hispanic one who picked the sniper class and instantly regretted it since I don't think there is ever a need for a sniper at any point in this movie so all of his shots are from like 2 feet away as the shuffling zombie horde ambles toward him

Erik-Michael Estrada (O-Town) as Komodo, the one that picked the Samurai class and spends an inordinate amount of time slashing zombies because he wants to show off how he maxed out the sword skill

Lauren Kitt-Carter (also not muscially inclined or pictured) as Sirene, generic Native 'tracker' type who mains a Shotel for some reason and is also apparently a nepo hire given she's married to Nick Carter

Debra Wilson (not musically inclined but apparently shoot bald) as Apoclypta makes up for the fact that the character is very one note and essentially just thrust at you as the big bad without any explination or reason. She spends half the time just screaming and pulling over the top faces so I can appreciate that at least.

Her minion, Johnny Vermillion (AJ McLean of Backstreet Boys) is a more convincing villain than her and he actually manages to off various major and minor characters. Plus he gets to run around in clown makeup and a bowler hat whilst he does it so points for that.

A special shoutout has to go to Jon Secada (solo artist) as well purely for his magnificent sideburns.

I say the setting and story isn't explained, it may well have been in the little intro sequence but I was far too busy suffering from a major headache at the editing job they did on that. There's so many fast edits and weird effects and the thing constantly shifts between various harsh color filters that it pained me to actually watch. Possibly they were going for a graphic novel type thing to tie into the Walking Dead thing?

And don't get me start on the transitions between scenes. So many establishing sweeping shots of the goddamned mountains and valleys. Don't ever use this as a drinking game, your liver would be destroyed within minutes.

Going through the introductions of all these various characters is kind of fun, going through the whole 'getting the band together' motions. The ending as well has it's moments as it's building to a crescendo with various characters laying down their life for the greater good but the middle third of the movie feels a bit plodding as the group makes it's way towards Apocalypta.

Fatone, Wilson and McLean go a long way to saving this movie as they're the one ones that seem to be having some fun with it. Everyone else is taking it far too seriously which I don't feel they have any right to given the circumstances, a movie starring this many boy band stars has no serious artistic merits. To say he's given top billing, Carter is particuarlly bland and monotone throughout but he is still miles ahead of Chris Kirkpatrick (*NSYNC), though we're at least spared him for the majority of the movie given he only has about 3 scenes.

All things considered, I have to give this movie some praise for just about living up to my lofty expectations of it to fulfill the bollocks-o-meter. By no measure it is a good movie (what else were you expecting?) given the edits that drove me crazy at times, the mediocre acting, generic story and just general vibe that only comes with these kind of movies. But some of the characters are engaging, it has some satisfying gore and there's no denying it's an absolute curiosity piece to see the cast of a VH1 type 'Boy Bands Forever' show suddenly whisked away to film a feature length zombie movie. The theme song kinda slaps too.