#sorry to put this in the main tag i know ppl are probably sick of hearing about this person

[moistvonlipwig]

sorry to bring up the disk horse but seeing you and others talk about that person has made me feel so much less insane 😭 I turned on a vid of them tlaking about how l*ly still doesn't understand rgu when I was doing other stuff and kept questioning the stuff they were saying 😭 lol

autistic as hell so I have a hard time dissecting some of what rgu is trying to say but. I really do not think it is that much of a mind bender to see who is in the wrong in that situation. jesus christ

Also for the ask game (if you want) 11 and 13 🫶

right like we all know l*ly orch*rd and jimothy somerton have wack media takes but if you make a video with the explicit purpose of proving that your takes are better than theirs then uh maybe you should make sure your takes are actually good first. i tried watching one of their videos like that months ago and i don't even remember what takes they had (it wasn't anything so bad as what they've been saying on twitter though) but i do remember going ??? a lot.

[also idk i always feel so torn about whether or not we should even be discussing l*ly's media takes like otoh yes they're often bad and she's semi influential in the animation criticism community and i do enjoy seeing people pick apart her bizarre arguments but at the same time if someone is an abusive pedophilic rapist does it matter if their media takes suck??? like, to quote one of my favorite tumblr posts, if you stab someone to death in an ikea your opinion on pink diamond could not be less relevant.]

[also i said i would stop and maybe i will tomorrow but i do keep hatescrolling saiscribbles' twitter account on sotwe (new website i just discovered that lets you see people's tweets if you don't have a twitter which is definitely going to be the death of me) and to be fair some of the people arguing with them ALSO have weird as fuck takes. none so vile as 'what akio did to utena wasn't rape' though. but rgu sure does bring out the weird takes in people.]

but honestly part of the reason i keep talking about this even though i know i Should move on and stop thinking about it is that i also felt insane reading their tweets because they take such a smug, Only I Possess Media Literacy, I Was Watching Utena Before You Were Born, I Have Made YouTube Videos About RGU And Am Therefore An Expert stance that it does make you start to second-guess yourself. but you know what they're wrong. just like l*ly and jimothy it doesn't matter how many videos they put out or how authoritatively/arrogantly they word their tweets or how popular their SU art is. they are wrong about rgu and they are wrong about lapis stevenuniverse and they are wrong about the r word and they are DANGEROUSLY wrong about rape. and none of us are crazy for seeing that.

to calm down i've been catching up on animiddo's utena reactions/analyses on youtube. i like that he takes the show very seriously including the nanami episodes. he's not on ep 33 yet but i have yet to see an utena reactor who didn't understand that ep 33 was rape. because, you know, it is in fact pretty fucking obvious.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

ARI FIRST THINGS FIRST I'M SORRY I DIDN'T TAG U I DIDN'T WANNA PRESSURE U OKAY I'M SORRY second of all how many of them can i ask about bc......... what if i wanna know about all of them? what then ari???? have u thought about that?????? okay okay no but i do NEEEED to know about sappy drunk!sugu bc helloo??? that sounds so good and also woLFY SUGU AND LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD????? you're crazy i'm so obsessed already and actually sick!satoru too bc he's gonna be such a baby i need to hear about it OK ONE MORE BECAUSE NOBARA??? OH MY GODD SKATERGIRL NOBARA PLEAAAAASEEE that's literally genius wow i can't wait to hear about all of them i'm so excited!!!!!!!

- @softgirlgonehaywire

MICKEY PLS DONT APOLOGIZE PHSJDHD i wasnt planning on doing it at first cause i didnt know if ppl would be interested 😭😭 BUT then i saw that u and everyone else was doing it so i immediately caved AND IM SO GLAD I DID u picked some of my personal faves !! ari/mickey connection going steady hehe

i’d apologize in advance for making this long but i feel safe w u this is just our average communication let’s go <33 here is some tea for u while u read !! 🍵

OKOK SOOOO first of all ; sappy drunk!sugu x reader….. yes. this one is sooooo special to me its been downright rotting in my drafts since the beginning of time and its literally all written out ?? but i need to delete some stuff n polish it overall….. </3

BUT yeah the plot is basically just: sugu goes out to a bar w satoshoko, gets drunk even though he literally never gets drunk, and so reader discovers that he is, in fact, the sappy kind. (shocker!) it’s just sooooo sickeningly fluffy and he’s so whipped. ☹️☹️ he’s like a puppy. all he can think of is reader and how much he wants to put a ring on their finger HE’S SOOOOO

here are a couple snippets hehe. literally just disgusting amounts of Fluff for my soul

sho 🚬 : anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying. you: HUH???????? you: WHY??? 😭😭😭 sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: pls come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up

”— and i have you.” a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real. he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat. a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.  ”my angel.” that peaceful smile changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

”sugu,” you whine, dragging his name out childishly. ”we need to sleep…” ”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”

i just think sugu has so much love in his chest that he like Never lets out bc he knows it can feel overwhelming unless he shows it in small doses but then he gets drunk and everything just SPILLS out . idk but my knees would buckle

AND THEN ….. wolf/hunter!sugu x little red riding hood!reader OHHHH MICKEY IM SO HAPPY U ASKED…. this concept entered my brain and has Not left even once but its still just this vague idea in my head. im just so interested in fairy tale aus!! i figure its probably gonna end up kinda twisted? or maybe a mix between sweet/twisted if i can pull it off 😭😭 bUT the main idea is that sugu plays the part of both the wolf AND the hunter, reader doesnt know who to trust but sugu is their only option either way. at first i was thinking of making him like a whole Wolf Man but now im leaning towards it being more symbolic … the trustworthy hunter was the ”wolf” all along yk? IM SO FOND OF THIS ONE i cant wait to write it !!! ive been itching to write something a lil more gritty anyhow :33

AND AND SICK!TORU X DOTING!READER ….. our babyboyyyy he’s so :((( he’s just so sick and delirious and trying to convince reader that he’s Fine Actually but he’s just burning up :(((( and so he has no choice but to face the terrifying reality of Being Taken Care of By Someone He Trusts. horrifying. as soon as he’s slightly better he’s just throwing himself over u and begging for kisses though (he’s an opportunist <33)

this is another one that’s just veryyyy fluffy n sweet!! AND another one that i have written out i just need to delete a lot of stuff bc its like . over 10k i think I GOT CARRIED AWAY OK…… 😭😭

aaand here r some snippets from this one!! just overflowing w gojo love <333 he’s our sweetiepie our little baby angel i need him tucked into bed

”really, baby,” he slurs, voice raspy and dry. attempting to get up, arms straining under his shivering body. ”there’s no need f’ —” unceremoniously, his limbs give out beneath him, and he tumbles back down. face falling back into the mattress, as he croaks out a meek little wince. (the sound makes your heart squeeze tightly in your chest.) ”ah,” he hums, muffled into the sheets. resisting the urge to close his eyes. ”that’s… annoying.”

”baby, i think my fever’s going up again…” satoru pouts, looking up at you. ”can you check?” a raise of your eyebrow. you give him a smile. ”this is the fifth time you’ve asked me to check your temperature, toru.” ”just wanna make sure,” he whines. ”please?” an exaggerated sigh. then you’re leaning down, soft lips meeting his forehead, humming against his skin — and, just like last time, and the time before that, his temperature hasn’t gone up. ”you’re good.” ”oh, thank god,” satoru exhales. ”are you sure? like, a hundred percent sure? maybe you should check again. just in case.”

”you’re cute,” satoru croons, still cradling your cheek. tenderly, soft fingertips against your heated skin. all you manage is a meek little furrow of your brows, but that only makes him chuckle again. after a silent moment, you part your lips. ”… you can.” he blinks. still smiling. ”stay forever, i mean.”

yeahhhhhh. yeah. u know how it is. (i am consumed by love for this silly little 28 year old man)

AND FINALLY LAST BUT NOT LEAST … skatergirl!nobara x reader <333333 my most beloved ever. i only have a vague outline but im sooo in love w this concept mickey im overjoyed that it caught ur eye….. just . picture nobara being covered in hello kitty band aids bc she’s not very good at skating but she just thinks it’s SO fun and she goes to the skate park w maki while wearing acrylic nails and she’s just having such a blast :(( grinning and giggling!!! she’s literally my daughter i adore her ….

my idea for the fic is basically just that reader has this weird one-sided rivalry w nobara bc they’re a bit jealous of her + she’s so pretty it makes them angry LOL and they assume that she doesnt notice them at all… but in reality nobara is like HIGHKEY crushing on reader she does these complicated flips JUST to impress them she’s a lovergirl!!! so it’s basically just super duper fluffy n sweet hehe <33

TYSM FOR ASKING MICKEY i had to take my time w this one hehehe . i hope u’ll enjoy these fics when theyre posted although it’ll probably take a while… COVERING U IN KISSES WATCH OUT

[haogender]

some people have recommended me to read a little life, but after reading your tags i am very confused dkbxjxbfjfj why some ppl love it and some despise it?

i have hard time understanding why people like it at all cause its such a horrible book... this is gonna be all over the place but i’ll try to put some thoughts together!

content and trigger warnings for rape, csa, suicide, self harm and abuse. both for the book and this post.

i have so, so many problems with this book. lets start with the gay stuff. here’s an bit from a goodreads review (link) by Michael Flick, i think this puts it well enough i don’t need to add anything. the whole review is worth a read, too.

“Some believe that this is “The Great Gay Novel.” That couldn’t be more wrong. There are only two recognizable gay men in this work, JB and Caleb. A creative queen and a violent, probably psychopathic, sadist. All the other “possibilities” are pedophiles (categorically not gay—that’s a sickness, an evil, that has nothing to do with being gay) or so hopelessly confused (and impotent) that you can’t know what they are (JB and Willem). The take on gay men here is antediluvian—a dangerous and discredited brand of heteronormative delusion in which all gay men, no matter the glittering surface of their lives, are fated only to die a lonely, miserable death. Caleb dies an excruciating death (so we’re told) from pancreatic cancer. JB, the witty, flamboyant, unstable, creative queen is merely a plot point. His happiness, told but not shown, at the bitter end doesn’t mean anything more than that. He’s a device to wring one more regret from you, one more sorrow. You can be assured that he, too, will die an ignoble death just beyond this novel’s last page. And you won’t be troubled or offended or titillated by the gay sex (or really any sex) here because there isn’t any: it’s the sex that dare not speak its name. All this is because the author knows absolutely nothing about gay men other than the most superficial stereotypes and doesn’t have the imagination to venture deeper than that. She can’t even imagine that a man (Willem) doesn’t need a woman to quench his sexual needs—he has a solution readily at hand. 

other than this, i remember this book having lesbophopic language but i don’t own a copy and honestly wouldn’t be bothered to find it anyway.

this book is just pure torture porn. so many bad and traumatising things happen to the main character in this book it feels unrealistic and i just think the only reason it happens is because the characters life has to be miserable. there is no reason to so graphically include a ton of this stuff in a book other than shock value. some of this graphic stuff includes very extreme descriptions of self harm (mostly cutting but also other stuff), suicide (including possible methods), physical and sexual abuse (part of it when the main character is a child), violence and medical trauma. i’m afraid that there is a real danger to this book teaching people how to hurt themselves (or even stuff like where to hide the tools they do it with) and i can’t imagine what an actively suicidal person might get out of this book. it really, really concerns me. i’m afraid this book teaches people to not get help, to not go to therapy and get help if they’ve been traumatised and/or are struggling with living.

this whole book is full of people enabling the main character to hurt himself over and over again and do nothing. every character is there to some way hurt the main character and people praise this book for being such a great tale about friendship. it is so pretentious and just pure torture porn. this book so clearly seem to think therapy and reaching out to people for help it bullshit!

i’m not saying you can’t write or discuss the themes that are present in this book but i just don’t think this is the way to do it. probably a therapist specialising in trauma should consult with the writer and someone should make sure the description of self harm and suicide will not harm anyone. i think there are guidelines made for that by people working in the field so i just don’t understand why they could not be used.

also, here is a link to the author literally saying she does not believe in trigger warnings which i think would have been extremely beneficial to have at the start of this book and i certainly would not have read it if it was for them. that would have saved me from so much triggering content. it seems clear to me the author does not have any idea how traumatic things can work, or at least that is what i think based on what she says. here is a link to an interview in which she says she does not believe in talk therapy. there, a point about a persons autonomy to end their own life is brought up which is a topic but if that’s what she wants to talk about then it should be done in clear terms and not with the only message “therapy doesn’t work if you’ve suffered enough trauma.” at least that’s how the whole thing seemed to me.

also here are so links i have saved about this book which i think point out excellent things if you are still curious

https://www.reddit.com/r/books/comments/a0e1yi/convince_me_a_little_life_is_a_good_book_please/

http://post45.org/2016/06/im-so-sorry-a-little-life-and-the-socialism-of-the-rich/

https://cannonballread.com/2016/07/narfna-a-little-life/

also, sorry, i am very tired so if this didn’t make much sense just ask me to clarify.

[1kook]

rotten

‣Kim Namjoon x (F) Reader

summary⇁ How bold of him to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, as if his presence alone doesn’t contribute to the distance your father places between the two of you. tags⇁enemies to lovers, strict but caring parents, daddy issues, bodyguard!au if u squint, mafia!au kinda, depictions of fight scenes, attempted molestation (nothing too traumatic), joon’s shady past that I don't even bother explaining lmao, teensy bit of angst, daddy kink, pillow talk, dry humping, unprotected sex, use of the pull-out method wc⇁12.3k !

this fic was....two moch..... also no i don't proofread I'm lazy :/ also ppl on mobile i swear theres a read more I'm srry

-

Despite your generally mild temper, nothing seemed to rile you up as much as the sight of Kim Namjoon on a Tuesday afternoon, easily breezing by the tight security that had been hassling you for over fifteen minutes now. He’d swept through the room like a spirit, not even a single eyelash batting his way, as they all seemed to be consumed with keeping you out of the bourgeoisie office that sat behind the rich mahogany doors.

Your father’s office, where he had explicitly warned you against visiting since you were a child, too busy to fret over you being in such an environment. Admittedly, it’s a concern many parents in his line of work have, but that doesn’t stop you from fighting tooth and limb every once and a while to come see him. He’d always been adamant that you stay away, desperately trying to isolate you from the terrors that usually came with his career in hopes of giving you the happy childhood you deserved. Despite how sheltered and spoiled he’d raised you, the curiosity that had first nestled its way into your brain as a kid never went away, which is how you find yourself stuck in this situation. 

Your eyes flicker over towards Kim Namjoon, casually glancing out the floor to ceiling glass panels that decorate the entire level of your dad’s building as he chomps on a donut, who is not technically the root of your strife, but someone who does play a pretty significant role in worsening your situation. 

He was your father’s prized protégé, a man not that much older than you, who had somehow been deemed worthy of being accepted into your very exclusive hierarchy, despite not having any blood connection to the family behind it. In fact, Kim Namjoon hadn’t had any sort of ties to anywhere when your father had first found him, so tragically young and broody after fighting in the underground (and winning) for the third night in a row. He was an oddity, everyone thought, because someone so smart and disgustingly handsome had no place among the heathens your father typically took under his wing. 

Unlike you, who strived everyday to finally be allowed into the family business, Kim Namjoon had easily slithered his stuck-up ass in, not necessarily becoming your father’s righthand man, but by the way your father treated him, he might as well have been. 

“Let me in,” you calmly breathe, the annoyance that had been caught in your throat doubling as you watch the fucker from the corner of your eye, his lean frame hugged tight by the custom pristine suit your father had gotten him for New Year’s. At your voice, his attention seems to finally snap in your direction, lips quietly munching through the donut as he analyzes your situation. 

Your can tell your father’s henchman are growing more and more anxious with every second you linger there, the strict orders from the boss weighing heavily down on them. Though you hadn’t inherited your father’s business—yet, you reminded yourself—you had certainly taken after his stubborn personality. “Sorry, Miss,” the absolute brute flounders, and the way he’s so gentle around you reminds you of the rampant sexism that goes on in this business, which only serves to fuel your anger. 

You’re about to spew off some degrading rhetoric about how people like him are only useful for their strength, when a smooth voice beats you to it. “Let her in,” Namjoon orders, and it takes everything in you not to jump when he suddenly appears beside you. Damn, he was good. 

Your jaw twitches as you watch him stare down the main guard, until the bigger man averts his gaze, stepping to the side. An awkward pause fills the room, and you should be grateful for Namjoon’s help, but instead, all you can think about is how you shouldn’t have to rely on him of all people for any type of assistance. 

He pushes the heavy door open, gesturing for you to step inside. You brush by without so much as a thanks, finally stepping foot inside your father’s office. Said man whirls around with a beaming smile on his face, one that is wiped off by the sight of you. Judging by the fact Kim Namjoon was lingering outside his office, you can more or less take a wild guess that your father was expecting him. 

“Sweetie,” your dad startles, jumping out of his leather seat as he rounds the desk on his charge to you. He grasps you by the arms, eyes analyzing over every part of your face for any signs of injury. “What are you doing here?” He interrogates once he’s completed his thorough inspection, eyes flickering back towards the door that Namjoon softly shuts. 

“I came to see you,” you say, voice meek and shy as you glance around the office you’ve so rarely visited before. You knew your father’s worries were justified, and the sheer terror that had consumed his face at the sight of you being in such a place fills you with both glee and guilt. 

Your father’s lips twitches upwards, only for a brief moment, before he’s schooling his features into the stoic expression he often wears around people he’s about to kill. You guess this is the same. “___, honey,” he exhales, stepping away from you as he adjusts his tie, “you know you’re not supposed to be here.”

Your mouth drop into a frown, and you try to protest. “I get it,” he cuts off, “and I’m flattered you want to visit me.” His words sound too formal and rehearsed, part of you wants to scream. “But you know you’re strictly banned from coming here alone.” 

Your lower lip trembles, because you’ve always naturally sought out your father before anyone else, a true princess from the get-go, and to see him push you away like this tears you apart. Before you can give some immature reply to defend yourself, someone else steps in for you. 

“If you don’t mind the interruption, sir,” Kim Namjoon says, face perfectly masked from any emotion as he carefully evaluates the situation in the same way your father does. Your father seems just as surprised as you to see him so calmly butt into your very intimate conversation, except he watches Kim Namjoon in awe. On the other hand, all you see is red. 

How bold of him to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong, as if his presence alone doesn’t contribute to the distance your father places between the two of you. He probably sees Namjoon as an adopted son, you presume, one he’s always wanted because he’s a thousand times more willing to thrust a boy into the mess that are his work affairs, than to teach his daughter the ways. 

You’re so caught up in your mental tirade against Kim Namjoon that you almost don't catch his next words. 

“I would not be opposed to escorting Miss ____ between your office and home,” he offers, and you completely gawk at his sudden charity. “Of course, only if you would like me to, sir.” You absolutely would not like him to!

You father, on the other hand, absolutely beams at Namjoon’s proposition, completely impressed by such a noble offering made by his star pupil. His detached expression shifts into an array of emotions, first impressed by Namjoon, before turning to send a softer, fonder gaze your way. 

“That won’t be necess-”

“I can always count on you, my boy!” Your father praises, slapping one arm down on Namjoon’s bicep, as the other lurches forward to profusely shake his hand. You don’t doubt this is a regular routine he has stored for whenever Namjoon does anything notable. 

His attention soon lands on you, and you’re surprised when he lunges forward to grasp your hands in his, eyes excited in a way you’ve never seen before. “Isn’t that perfect, sweetie? This way, you can come spend time with me without the possibility of danger!” 

Truthfully, you know Kim Namjoon’s offer is probably going to save the rocky relationship between you and your father. Namjoon wasn’t your father’s protégé for no reason; he was possibly the strongest fighter your faction had seen in years, though his strength lied beyond his physical capabilities. He was disturbingly intelligent, his ‘street smarts’ extending into professional education as well, both of which became valuable assets applicable to any situation he may encounter. 

But the same irritation builds in the back of your throat, so sick and tired of others babying you when you don’t need it. You’re perfectly capable of traveling between here and your house on your own. Screw some glorified bodyguard. 

You purse your lips in the most genuine smile you can muster, and huff out an overly cheery, “yup!”

You’d taken the train to come see your father, forgoing the option of one of your many personal driver’s because you knew they’d all refuse to bring you here. However, your father is quick to put Namjoon’s newest task in motion, ushering the two of you out of his office before you can hammer out any details of what exactly this new arrangement will entail. 

Kim Namjoon is as mysterious as ever as he leads you towards the elevator, waiting for you to step in first, before sending the two of you into the underground garage parking. You refuse to break the ice inside the elevator, instead taking in his stern reflection on the elevator’s mirrored panels. 

Ugh. 

He’s unfairly handsome, silvery locks casually brushed aside to perfectly frame the curves of his face. His skin looks pillowy soft, and had you not had a raging hatred for him harbored inside your chest, you would’ve stuttered at the pink tongue that peeks out to glide over his plump lips. 

The elevator dings and you follow him across the garage until you reach a sleek Mercedes coupe, the lights automatically flashing on as you step closer to it. Before you can make a move, Namjoon opens the back door, stepping aside to allow you in. You roll your eyes, huffing your way inside the seat as you watch him round the car and settle into the driver’s seat. 

As you’re tugging on your seatbelt, his silky voice fills the car. “Which home am I escorting you to today, miss?”

You grit your teeth, pushing the buckle into place with more force than necessary. “My apartment uptown,” you mutter, petulantly crossing your arms over your chest. 

For a moment, you catch his brows furrowing in confusion, as he chooses his next words carefully. “You do not wish to be taken to the family home in the suburbs?” He asks, and you roll your eyes at the way he manages to sound just as composed. 

“No, I have things to do tonight,” you frown, tugging your phone out to confirm the evening’s plans with your girlfriends. You’re immediately met with a slew of gleeful texts, which you take the time to respond to as Namjoon pulls out of the parking lot. He’s silent for the remainder of the car ride, save for when he asks you for your address. You wrinkle your nose in annoyance as you begrudgingly give it to him, before your attention returns to your buzzing device. 

You’d been planning on going out to celebrate your friend’s recent promotion at work, giddy at the thought of finally seeing all your friends for the first time in a few weeks. The plan was to head to the exclusive club downtown, in an area your father had strictly forbade you from visiting. But the rumors were too much for you to ignore, and you finally gave in to your friends’ invitations. 

Namjoon pulls up in front of your tall building, though he doesn’t immediately unlock the door for you to get out. He doesn't turn to face you as he informs you, “your father would like for you to visit at least once a week, and had requested that you notify me of any visits at least one day prior.”

You scoff, and tug the handle for him to let you out. 

However, it seems Namjoon has more to say. “He is also aware of your plans to sneak into a club on the south side tonight.” Your breath catches in your throat, and you whirl around to catch his steely gaze through the rearview mirror. “He says you are not allowed to go, but,” Namjoon says, and his monotonous tone of voice makes you want to punch him in that beautiful face of his. “If you do decide to go against his rules, just know that there are people there who do not take too kindly to our family, and would not hesitate to let you know as much.”

The door clicks in the background, and you waste no time throwing it open. You glare back at him once more. “You are not part of my family,” you spit.

“Damn!” Jisoo wolf whistles as she watches you step out of the apartment building Namjoon had dropped you off at not even five hours ago. You ignore your friend’s obnoxious catcalls as you hop into the backseat of Sojin’s car, immediately bombarded by the rest of your goofy friends’ exclamations. 

“You guys are annoying,” you laugh, buckling your seatbelt just as Sojin speeds off, ignoring the honks from cars around her. “How are we getting in?” You inquire, skipping over any formalities. 

Jisoo shrugs, toying with the radio before finally settling on a station she approves of. “Mm, I haven't thought of it yet,” she casually says, and your eyes pop out of their sockets. She knew how nervous to were about tonight, especially since your father had first warned you against going anywhere near this particular district. You’d been hoping she’d made some plans for the group of you to get in. 

“Jisoo, don't be mean” Sojin scolds, seemingly set on going as fast as she can without catching the attention of any late night police. “You know how ____’s dad is.”

You’re thankful someone understands, and Jisoo eventually relents, informing you all that she has some connections to the owners of the club, and that you would all be guaranteed access inside. You can finally breathe easy, settling into the backseat conversation as Jisoo continues pestering Sojin; you have no doubt in your mind that she had her own little pregame while getting ready. 

It’s not long before the car pulls up in front of the club, you and your girls stepping onto unknown territory for the first time. Or, at least, your first time. The exhilaration that comes with disobeying your father’s rules (real rules, not like the stupid don’t come see me rules) makes you vibrate in place, so giddy and excited that you almost stumble over the curb upon stepping out. 

“Chill out,” Sojin laughs, pushing you in the direction of the entrance line, before Jisoo guides you off path, towards where two mammoth bouncers check IDs. You don’t have to worry about any of that, Jisoo simply flashing the two men an innocent smile as they let your group shuffle inside. 

The moment the door swings open, you’re hit with the overwhelming aura that comes with almost every nightclub. The same old vulgar vibe that you’ve been mingling with since you’d first become an adult, the raunchy music a familiar tune as you pushed your way through the packed bodies, gliding and pushing against each other. 

Despite the pounding acoustics, you don’t miss the low whistle Jisoo lets out as she files closely behind you, dainty fingers gripping your arm. “Check that out,” she shouts, dragging one arm up to point at an absolutely gorgeous man sitting at the bar. He’s stunning, you think, and by the looks of it, everyone else seems to think so as well. His dark hair is fanned over his forehead, brushing over his brows as his eyes scan carefully across the dance floor. For a moment, you think they might’ve landed on you, but judging by the sultry chuckle you hear in your ear, you know the inviting grin he flashes is for the pretty girl behind you. “Well don’t mind if I do,” Jisoo mumbles, slowly slipping away from you to saunter over towards the beautiful man at the bar. 

Her departure leaves you by your lonesome, you realize, your friends immediately separating to find their own fun for their night. Just as you resign yourself to babysitting duty (which you don’t really mind), there’s a soft graze against your elbow, making you jump. 

“Smells like weed in here,” Mina huffs, button nose wrinkling as she seems to root herself in place beside you. You snort, mindlessly wandering towards the opposite end of the bar as you continue mingling with your friend. “You know, I think my expectations for this place where a little too high,” she sighs, swirling whatever drink she’d ordered in her cup sadly. 

“Why? I think it’s nice,” you comment, flagging down the bartender to ask for a stronger drink. You listen to her as she goes on to complain about the club, citing her past experiences in better places to prove her point. You can sort of understand her, her disinterest slowly convincing you that you too have seen better clubs, her arguments becoming more and more convincing with every drink she throws back, you slowly following her example. 

Just as she’s whining about the terrible music, her words are suddenly cut short. “Holy fuck,” she gasps, and your eyes follow her gaze, struggling to see whatever has managed to cut your usually chatterbox of a friend off, but all you see are the obnoxiously flashy strobe lights in your eyes. 

“What is it?” You ask, squinting into the far side of the club, near the VIP booths, but all you see are people you don’t recognize. 

“___,” she whines, doe eyes clouding over with want as she seems to have zeroed in on what is probably her dream man. Suddenly, she snaps to attention, determined eyes locking on yours. “I need to suck his dick.”

Your splutter, hand almost knocking down your drink as she tugs you out of your seat and towards whoever her mystery man might be. “This is a you thing!” You hiss, trying to pull out of her grasp, but the power of a tiny drunk girl seems ridiculously Hulk-like. 

“So? What if he likes you?” Your eyes widen. “I would never live with myself if I deprived you of such a fine dick.”

“You don’t even know him! I can’t even see him!” You screech, a sudden lull in the music making your words seem too loud inside the club. Your cheeks flame, though a part of you knows no one is paying you any attention. “Mina,” you whine, shaking her hand off of you to no luck. 

She shushes you, and you can finally begin to see the outline of a man as you near the VIP area, the back of a pale head of hair being your apparent target. You huff when Mina finally manages to come to a stop, immediately ripping your hand out of hers. You look every bit the fussy child as you cross your arms over your chest while Mina makes introductions. 

“Hi,” she giggles, morphing into the classic erotic succubus as she bends over the back of the couch the man sat on. “I’m Mina, and this is my friend-” you roll your eyes, refusing to look at the gag-worthy exchange, “-and we were hoping you’d let us sit on your cock tonight?”

You choke, whirling around with flaming cheeks and wide eyes, frantically trying to rip a drunk Mina away before she can embarrass the two of you even further. “Mina!” You scold in horror, tugging her away from where she’d been lounging across the back of the couch, desperate to ignore the man she’d been flirting with, until the back of your mind registers a very familiar presence. 

“Miss ___,” a deep voice says, and you flinch, blood running cold as you whip your head to catch sight of the same chocolatey eyes that had stared you down through the rearview mirror that afternoon. 

Every alarm goes off in your head as you recall Kim Namjoon’s warning, reprimanding yourself for not heeding his words as you stare into his emotionless gaze. “Namjoon,” you flounder, and Mina’s squeals fade into the background as your cheeks flush crimson from being caught in such an uncomfortable position. 

His attention briefly breaks away to glance at Mina’s intoxicated being half hanging off of you, half sending him the horniest gaze he’s ever seen. He levels you the most Mona Lisa-esque look, and, just like the painting, you’re unsure if he’s amused or disgusted. 

Slowly, he rises from the couch, body clad in an entirely black suit with a matching black button up beneath it. His full height towers over you, despite the heels you’d donned, and you feel small and insignificant under his gaze. He eyes flicker to the couch, and you get the hint, slowly settling down your inebriated friend before turning back to him. 

“I warned you, Miss ___,” he says, shoving his lithe fingers deep into his pockets. 

Though you’d initially been frazzled by his presence, his condescending tone of voice makes something snap inside of you, your vision melting into red as you step into his space, jabbing a finger into his chest, briefly catching a whiff of his cologne. 

“Fuck off,” you seethe, and though you have to crane your head to look him in the eye, your anger does not fade away. “I don’t give a fuck off about what you said, Kim Namjoon. And I don’t give a fuck about what my father has to say about this. As a matter of fact, fuck you and fuck hi-”

Namjoon snatches your palm away from his chest, completely dwarfing it with his own as he tugs you closer to him, steely gaze on yours. “Your father has no idea you are here,” he exhales, the close proximity and the seclusion of the VIP area making it almost unnecessary for him to raise his voice above a murmur. “As far as he knows, you’re safely tucked away in bed right now, Miss ___.”

Your insides are still boiling, but you cannot deny the confusion that washes over you from his response. You’d assumed Namjoon would rat you out the moment you got into Sojin’s car. He was your father’s favorite underling, and, accordingly, his loyalty to your father was unmatched. The fact he had come to retrieve you without so much as notifying your father of your disobedience came as a shock. 

Before you can get more lost in your befuddled thoughts you push him away from you, shaking his grip off of you with disgust. He seems unfazed as he watches you fume, your friend almost forgotten. He looks away from you for a second, eyes meeting Mina’s, before she’s suddenly getting up to scamper in the direction of the dance floor. 

“Mina!” You call, turning to trail her, but Kim Namjoon stops you with a tight grip on your forearm. 

“Miss ___,” he says, voice uncomfortably close, and you can faintly feel his broad form hovering less than a few centimeters behind you. Your breath catches in your throat, his deep timbre enveloping every inch of you. “I suggest you return home before someone else discovers of your disappearance.”

You huff, his unwanted advice pushing you out of whatever trance his presence had trapped you in, and you pull out of his hold for the second time. You face him, trying to hide your breathlessness as you fix him with the most furious expression you can muster. 

Kim Namjoon seems as disinterested as ever, meeting your angry gaze with his own. You’re in a stare down then, crossing your arms over your chest to try and shield yourself from his scrutinizing eyes, which seem to be boring into the very core of your being as he waits for you to back down. 

Your heart thuds in your ears, every inch of you tight as you struggle to maintain your sturdy facade. But the longer you remain caught in his gaze, the more vulnerable you feel, desperate to conceal yourself from him and his bored expression. Eventually you’re snapping your gaze away, cheeks blazing at the immature loss. “Where’s the car?” You mutter, refusing to look at him again. 

Had he not already melted you down with his eyes alone, the soft brush against the small of your back wouldn’t have made you jump as much as it did. You let him guide you towards the club’s exit, making a mental note to make up some excuse for your friends, and hoping they hadn’t seen you leave with Kim Namjoon of all people. God, that would’ve been embarrassing. 

Similar to the afternoon’s events, he tugs open the backseat door for you, even helping you stumble inside after watching you uneasily shuffle on your heels. The door falls shut behind you, the driver’s door swinging open not long after. 

You try to ignore him as best as you can, focusing your attention on informing your friend’s of your early departure with the smoothest lie you can conjure. Namjoon doesn’t seem to be feeling any sorrow for ruining your night, and for some reason, the embarrassment you’d felt earlier begins creeping into your bones for the second time. 

Mina’s shrill voice replays in your head, her vulgar words seemingly on loop. You briefly glance at Namjoon through the rearview mirror, grateful he hadn't said anything about Mina’s inappropriate behavior. You can feel the blood rush to your face, and you quickly avert your gaze out the window, the city’s scenery quickly flashing by in the form of blinding streetlights and concrete buildings. 

It’s not long before you draw closer to your towering apartment building, Namjoon’s voice finally filtering into the heavy silence for the first time. “Miss ___, please do not hesitate to call me the next time you wish to visit your father.” You roll your eyes, toying with your purse as you prepare to step out of the vehicle. 

He pulls to a stop in front of your building, and the doorman rushes forward to assist you out of the car. You’ve barely stepped one foot out onto the curb when Namjoon calls your name again. You turn back, catching his eyes in the same mirror you’d been viewing him through all day.

You’re surprised to see a rare twinkle in his eyes, as he says, “I hope your friend has better luck tonight.”

Before you can reprimand him for saying such a comment about Mina, the doorman is helping you out, and you’re left a bewildered mess on the sidewalk as he pulls off. 

If your father was going to treat you like a child, you were going to act like one. It was only right that you took absolute advantage of Kim Namjoon’s wishes to be an absolute kiss-up to your father, and both men had encouraged you to do as much anyway. 

After your first day with Kim Namjoon as your glorified chauffeur/bodyguard, you’d begun calling him for the most mundane of tasks. Truthfully, it was a childish streak inside of you that wanted to diminish the time he spent with your father. (And, maybe, you also wanted to see another glimpse of emotion on that ridiculously gorgeous face of his.)

He’d drove you to and from your family home, even though he knew as well as you did that there were plenty other drivers who's entire job description was exactly that. He hadn’t complained, showing up to your building exactly twenty minutes after any call you made with the backseat door held open for you. 

Jennie’s douchebag boyfriend had finally broken up with her one Saturday morning, leaving her a sobbing, lonely mess. You’d called Namjoon up to drive you over at eight in the morning, and he’d shown up right away. You might’ve pulled him away from his breakfast, you theorized, the tiniest fleck of white powder curling around the corner of his plump lips. 

You’d called him to drive you to the nail salon and had made him sit in the waiting area for an hour, because you wouldn’t be able to call him afterwards with wet nails, you’d whined. You’d taken great pleasure in seeing his threatening figure nestled among all the other nail care enthusiasts. If he was displeased, he hadn't shown it, taking absolute caution of your nails as he led you back to the car. The only downside to your petty plan was when he’d had to lean over you to buckle your seatbelt for you, his face hovering over your chest so intimately you’d refused to speak on the drive home. 

Perhaps the most immature stunt you’d pulled was calling him at two in the morning, ordering him to take you to the gas station for chocolate chip cookies. 

Usually Namjoon answered your calls after the first ring, silky voice clear as he asked you where to, not so much as a greeting slipping out. However, on that night you’d almost hung up after the fourth ring, when a raspy voice had suddenly filtered through your speakers. 

“Hello?” Kim Namjoon had groaned, and your heart had stopped in your chest as you floundered for a response. There was the shuffling of sheets in the background, and your brain hadn’t kickstarted back up until you heard the delicious pop of his bones as he stretched, you assumed. 

“I-I need you,” you’d stuttered out, all traces of the malice that usually tinged your phone calls suddenly whisked out of your system. You realized the horrible phrasing of your words a little too late. There was a pause, as Namjoon let out a half-asleep chuckle that filled your ears as he glanced down at the caller ID. 

You could pinpoint the exact moment he realized it was you, the line suddenly going completely silent, only the static of the line present. Suddenly, a harsh cacophony of sounds filled your ear, and you almost dropped your phone as he coughed, before his usual monotone voice filled the line. “Miss ___, where to?”

All signs of the groggy Namjoon were wiped clean, and it was as if you were talking to a completely different person as he patiently awaited your response. Your brain racked for a response, and you begun spluttering the first thing that you could conjure. 

“The gas station, I want cookies, like right now, so you better get your ass over here as soon as fucking possible, ASAP,” you rambled, trying to mask your own embarrassment with the annoyed tone you usually took on when speaking to Namjoon. He sent a formal confirmation your way, and you hung up as soon as he told you he’d be over soon. 

You’d been planning on changing into something more acceptable by society’s standards, but you ended up pacing pack and forth as you tried to calm yourself before Namjoon’s arrival. In the end, the elevator was halfway to the ground when you belatedly realized you had remained in your ridiculous pink booty shorts and oversized long sleeved t-shirt. You cursed, hoping Namjoon’s tired demeanor meant he wouldn’t step out of the car tonight to follow you like he usually does, and you could slip in and out undetected. 

Much to your horror, he was, like always, waiting for you outside the door. Though he looked every bit the stone-hearted mafia member, you couldn’t ignore the softness that curled around his figure, present in the way his eyes were swollen, his hair styled sans gel, and the fact he’d forgone his usual suited attire for a plain black shirt that stretched deliciously over his muscles. 

You ducked into the car, refusing to meet his gaze. Even while he drove, you kept your eyes set firmly on your lap or out the window. That vulnerable feeling you’d felt all those weeks ago crept up your spine, and you absolutely hated it, especially when it was caused by none other than Kim Namjoon. 

The car slowed to a stop in front of one of those twenty-four hour mini marts, and Namjoon shifted the car into park. “You didn’t specify where exactly, Miss ___. I hope here is fine.”

You nodded, throwing the door open and letting yourself out before he could even unbuckle his own seatbelt. He said nothing as he trailed after you, momentarily losing you inside the artificially lit store, before finding you near the snack aisle. 

Your heart thudded in your chest, as your eyes blankly scanned over the shelves. What were you here for again? Your mind was in complete shambles as you tried to ignore the want that grew in the pit of your stomach, pushing it down with other thoughts instead. 

You’ve been spoiled since birth by your parents, anything you wanted being placed in the palm of your hand. You could ask for the hottest celebrity to come visit you, and your sneaky father would somehow pull the strings together. You had cars and apartments and clothes that people your age wish they could have. So why was your stupid body craving the emotionless bodyguard—the same one that you feared was tearing your father away from you?

You’re jolted out of your consuming thoughts when a body brushes against you. You immediately move to shift away, only to feel the other person follow your movements. “Alone, sweetheart?” A gruff voice murmurs against your ear, and your body completely stills as you feel calloused hands brush against the sides of your very exposed legs. 

Years of self-defense classes trickle down the drain as you become paralyzed with terror, hands clutching at the bag of candies you’d grabbed sometime during your mental spiraling. Your brain faintly clicks into place, though it sounds muddled behind the fear that grips at every part of you, telling you to push yourself away, call for help, something. 

Just as your vocal chords finally begin working with you, the awful feeling goes away. You whip around, briefly catching sight of Namjoon’s furious expression as he drags the man planning to defile you out of the mini-mart. You’re frozen in place as you hear their scuffling bodies grow further and further away, until the tiny bell above the entryway gives one final innocent jingle and you’re enveloped in relative silence, the obnoxious overhead music running quietly. 

Belatedly, your legs spur you into action, and you drop the plastic bag in favor of rushing out after Namjoon. The cold air whips at your face as you shove the door open, glancing back and forth to no avail; they’re nowhere in sight. However, the sleek automobile is still parked a few meters away from you, so you begin sprinting towards that, past an alleyway where—

You come to a screeching halt, eyes trained on the two bodies tussling in the darkness. You stumble closer, eyes struggling to focus, before finally making out Kim Namjoon’s lean figure towering over the man who’d grabbed you. You gasp when Namjoon’s hand comes barreling into the man’s face, the weaker of the two struggling to fight back, but you’ve heard enough rumors to know what kind of fighter Kim Namjoon is. 

His fists move at an inhuman speed, jabbing at any part of the man he can get. Just as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you catch sight of Namjoon’s livid side profile, his silvery locks falling across his eyes as he continues to beat the living shit out of the man beneath him. 

You’re not sure if it’s the want to see the entirety of his expression face-to-face, or if it’s the fact that you knew Namjoon would literally kill this man if you let him, that has you rushing to stop him. 

“Namjoon!” You shout, footsteps thundering against the gravelly pavement before coming to a halt a meter away, careful of your own safety as you recall the rumors that surround Namjoon; he was a rabid fighter when provoked, which explains why he fought so desperately to maintain his emotions in check at all times. You step closer, wincing after a particularly hard punch that leaves the man wailing in pain, blood spluttering out of his busted lip. There’s a splattering of blood decorating Namjoon’s face and arms, and you can undoubtedly say it’s definitely not his own. 

You decide to suck it up and reach for him, part of your childish mind still thinking that hey, if he hurts you, at least he won’t be your father’s favorite anymore. 

Your hands shakily settle across his rippling shoulder blades, careful to avoid his elbows as they swing back and forth, fingers gently gliding around until they’re loosely placed around the base of his neck. “Namjoon,” you call out, daringly stepping closer, until your chest is almost pressed against his back. 

Up close, his ragged breath sounds animalistic, his chest heaving with each gulp of air he takes. He must be at least somewhat aware of your presence, because his arms slow down until he’s just grasping the man by the collar, and you gag at the sight of the bloodied face of your attacker. 

“Hey,” you say, finally slotting your body against his, fingers softly dancing over his skin. “Let go of him, Joon,” you murmur, the nickname absentmindedly slipping through your lips as you continue pressing your fingers into the tight muscle. You become more emboldened when the man goes slack in his grip, and you lift one hand up to tilt Namjoon’s wild gaze away from him. 

“Look, look,” you say, turning his chin until his wide, unstable eyes are on your own. “I’m okay, Namjoon,” you hum, using the hand not preoccupied holding his chin to slide down his arm, pressing down with a lot of force, until Namjoon lets go of the man. “It’s okay,” you add, trying to repeat the same process with his other hand. 

"I-,” Namjoon chokes out, body tensing beneath your touch when the man lets out a low groan, blood dribbling out of his lips. “He touched you,” he seethes, and though his face is pointed your way, his eyes are flickering to the side, desperately trying to see his punching bag. Namjoon’s own lower lip trembles with rage, and you have to run a palm down the side of his face, quietly shushing him. 

“I know, I know, but look,” you urge, stroking his cheek until his wild eyes finally meet yours. “I’m okay, it’s oka-”

“It’s not!” Namjoon roars, turning back to shove your assailant against the brick wall of the mini mart. You immediately try to tug him back to you and your terrible attempts at calming him. “He’s not allowed to fucking touch you!”

“Joon, calm down,” you beg, instinctively locking your arms around your neck, throwing any reservations about your own safety out the window, your attention solely focused on making sure Namjoon doesn’t kill this man behind your local family mini mart. 

Though he’s blinded by his own emotions, he’s still aware of your presence, and the fact you’re his boss’s kid probably. Namjoon pauses, watching the battered man slowly sink down to the ground, one of his split knuckles coming to clutch at the trembling forearm you’ve strapped across his chest. 

“I have to kill him,” he grits out, fingers squeezing around your arm gently compared to the absolute brute strength he'd used to drag the guy out of the mart a mere five minutes ago. You tighten your grip, struggling to keep your toes on the floor as he attempts to shrug you off. 

“Let’s go,” you huff, mustering up the strength to yank him backwards, the two of you flying into the opposite wall of the cramped alleyway. Your back hits the brick first, and you yelp in shock, the sound seeming to catch Namjoon’s attention and he whirls around, eyes wide and frantic as he analyzes your expressions. His worry intensifies as he becomes desperate to assure himself he hadn't hurt you.

“Joonie,” you pant, taking this opportunity to finally reach the logical part of him, cupping his face in your hands, forehead pressing together. His nickname slips past your lips without much thought, and his wild gaze finally calms down at your soft voice, slowly turning into long, drawn out blinks. “Let’s go,” you whisper, and he nods, eyes finally falling shut, lashes gently fluttering against his skin. 

It’s a weird feeling to finally be in the driver’s seat of the Mercedes, Namjoon silently sitting in the passenger seat. You fix the rear view mirror, pressing down on the gas, as you shift the car into drive, pulling away from the scene. 

The drive back to your apartment is mostly silent after you tell him you’re going to clean him up. Other than that, it’s awkward, you nervously drumming your fingers along the steering wheel as Namjoon seems to be staring blankly out the windshield. You don’t bother to make conversation, not really sure how to bring up the overwhelmed Namjoon of ten minutes ago to the emotionless one of now. His knuckles are swollen, the skin pinched around his rings, and resting on his knees. 

You’ve been forcing Namjoon to drive you around for so long, the path to your building’s underground parking garage seems unfamiliar to you as you pull into a parking space. You shuffle out of the car wordlessly, taking the elevator all the way up to your floor in the same practiced silence that’s plagued you since the events behind the mart. 

It’s not long until you’re letting him into your spacious apartment, gesturing towards the couch as you scamper off for the first aid kit shoved into your bathroom cabinets. When you return, Namjoon has yet to sit down.

“Sit down,” you order, and he does. You kneel down before him, taking his battered hands into yours as you give them a brief inspection, before reaching for the wet rag you’d brought down. 

If it stings, Namjoon doesn’t say anything, letting you wipe the dried blood off his skin. The fact it’s not even his makes you want to gag, but you suppress the feeling as you push through your job, dutifully tracing the rag along his veins. Tugging his rings off is where the real struggle comes, his minuscule winces making you hesitant to pinch his skin any further. 

“Let me,” he says, jiggling a ring back and forth, loosening it up until he can somewhat pop it off his finger without too much pain. You kneel back and watch him remove his collection of jewelry. 

He’s ignored your gaze since the moment you stepped out of the elevator, and you duck your head just the slightest in a cliche attempt to look him in the eye. “You didn’t have to do that,” you murmur, toying with the rag in your hands. 

He snorts, and you startle at such a blatant display of emotion from Kim Namjoon. “I should’ve killed the fucker,” he mutters, tossing his rings onto the couch beside him without much care. 

You take his hands in yours again, trailing the cloth between his long fingers silently. Every now and then, his fingers will involuntarily curl up, and he’ll exhale harshly through his nose. You presume it’s him trying to suppress the carnal anger that builds up at the memory. 

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you give up a wise crack. “Well now I can confirm you’re not an emotionless robot,” you joke, though you quickly shut up when he doesn’t reciprocate your goofy smile. You purse your lips, hurrying through one hand before moving onto the next, his fingers involuntarily curling around yours. Your heart thunders. 

Just as you’re calming your racing heart, Namjoon says, “your father is going to be so disappointed in me.”

Your jaw tenses, your movements pausing as the words register in your mind. Before you can completely blow up about it, you spit out a curt response. “He won't be. You’re his perfect little protégé.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t be disappointed in me,” Namjoon retorts, and you roll your eyes, the anger and jealousy that had been the root cause of your and Namjoon’s servant-like relationship taking refuge in the back of your throat. 

“He literally won’t be,” you huff, too worried about how disgusted your father will be when he learns of your weakness, and how he’ll use your inability to fight back as a leverage, citing it as another reason why you can’t be around the family business. “He’ll be sooo fucking proud you saved me,” you croak, your heart wrenching with sadness. 

Namjoon says nothing. 

You wipe his hands clean and apply the antiseptic quickly, your throat constricting with every passing second as you imagine the utter disgust that will certainly cross your father’s features when Namjoon informs him of tonight’s incident. Your fingers tremble as you carefully wrap his knuckles with a thin bandage, eyes growing wetter with each loop around his hand. 

When you finally finish, it’s taking everything in you to hold back the flood of tears threatening your waterline, and you’re hoping Namjoon will simply thank you before disappearing off into the night. 

You don’t want Kim Namjoon, of all people, to see you cry. 

“All done,” you murmur, patting the back of his hands as you rise to your feet. You shuffle to return the items into the kit, lazily tossing the bloodstained towel on top of the closed box afterwards. 

His hand catches your wrist. “Why do you hate me?” Namjoon asks, and it’s the first time he hasn’t spoken so formally around you, addressing you so casually. You inhale a shaky breath, a resigned smile plastering itself across your face, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. 

“You have the one thing I actually want,” you admit, shaking your head at his confused expression. Now that you’ve seen Namjoon act like a normal human being, or, as normal as watching him nearly kill a man can be, the idea of him being some distantly stoic figure feels weird to think about. You sigh, placing the first aid kit on the coffee table. 

“I just wanna be close to my dad,” you huff, your words caught on a whimper that you bite back. You press the heels of your palms against your eyes, shoulders trembling with the sobs you fight to contain. “I’d do anything to spend time with him,” you choke out, rubbing at your eyes until you’re seeing stars, “but all he ever wants is to see you.”

A pitiful sob escapes your lips, and you don’t even bother feeling embarrassed in front of Kim Namjoon anymore. The feelings of uselessness you’d harbored for so long that they’d manifested into a raging jealousy release themselves into the silence of your apartment. You cry and Namjoon watches you. 

There’s a hand pressing into your shoulder after a few moments, and you wipe the fat tears away and look off somewhere to the side. 

“I didn’t know,” Namjoon murmurs, and you give an ugly sniffle in response. His hand drops from your frame to scratch at the back of his neck. 

You scoff, whirling around to narrow your teary eyes at him. “Of course you fucking didn’t, you were too busy kissing his ass every chance you got,” you spit, and Namjoon’s eyes blow out into saucers. 

“I was just doing my job,” he defends, the sympathetic aura he’d held quickly fading into a more defensive one. 

“Oh really?” You exclaim, not backing away when he stands from his perch on the couch, towering over you as you continue your onslaught. “Was your job being a fucking show off? Or was it purposefully making me look like a little bitch in front of my father?”

Namjoon steps into your space, grasping your wrists in his hands to stop your explosive way of talking. “You need to calm do-”

You cackle, fists clenched against his grip. “That’s real funny coming from you, Namjoon,” you mock, and his jaw twitches, a brief spark of that animalistic side of him listing his eyes before he’s tightening his hands around your skin. “Unlike you, I actually know how to control myself.”

“I just wanted to save you tonight,” he fumes, looking so indescribably wrong inside your apartment. Had it been the regular Kim Namjoon with his perfectly styled hair and schooled expressions, maybe you would have not questioned his presence. 

But this Namjoon is completely unknown. He’s bold and strong in a way only young men can be, his temper as untamed as his silvery locks that fall out of place, tickling his forehead. He’s normal, you guess, but admitting as much feels weird. 

“So you can go tell my dad about it?” You spit, desperately shaking your hands out of his grip to no avail. “Admit it, Namjoon, if it was any other girl you wouldn’t have batted an eye, because you only care about yourself and your dumb ass reputation to—”

Your back meets the cushioned seats of the couch, wrangled there by Namjoon’s own strength as he presses you down onto it. He towers over you, radiating pure, unadulterated anger as he stares you down. “You’re right, I fucking wouldn’t have,” he seethes, and you huff and growl as you struggle to pry your hands out of his hold for the nth time, before he eventually settles on pinning them beside your head in irritation. 

“But since it was your little princess ass, I fucking have to,” he growls, and you faintly register the knee he presses between your legs as you glare up at him. “Miss ‘I get everything I want because my daddy’s rich,’” he mocks, voice raising into an obnoxious imitation of what you must sound like. 

You scoff, thrashing beneath him. He pays you no attention, continuing to taunt you. “’I want to help him at work, but I can’t even defend myself against the weakest of strangers,’” he teases, and you keep squirming against him, only fueling his efforts. “You’re such a fucking bitch,” he spits, and you flinch under his gaze. “Is there anything you actually can do?”

Your anger is rolling off of you in waves, but as you move again, his knee brushes against your most sensitive of parts, and a horrifying whimper escapes from your throat. 

You immediately freeze, desperately wracking your brain for some sort of excuse, but the annoyed grunts and growls you’d been releasing sound nothing like the absolutely vulgar noise that had crawled out from between your lips, and by the way Namjoon’s furious expression melts off his face, you know he’s also realized this. 

You try to search your brain for how exactly this had happened. The heat that had been boiling inside of you—the absolute rage you’d been feeling—hadn’t actually been anger? Exactly when did your body decide now was as good as ever to feel like this?

For a moment, your apartment is silent. The only sound you hear is the rushing of blood in your ears, lips pressed together as you fight down the inevitable flush that decorates your face. Maybe if you hadn’t been so focused on controlling your breathing you might have taken advantage of the brief moment in which Namjoon had loosened his grip on you. 

“Listen,” you huff, tongue running over your lips. You try to ignore the way Namjoon’s clouded gaze glances down at them. “I’m still in a lot of shock from all that happened tonight and—” your words are cut short when Namjoon’s leg purposefully brushes against your core, another high-pitched whine ripping itself out of your throat.

Namjoon snorts. 

“So that’s what this is about,” he says, his looming figure somehow ten times more dangerous than before. You feel yourself grow incredibly small beneath him, even more so when he ducks down until your faces are close, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. 

“All this time, were you waiting for this, Miss ___?” He murmurs, his breath hot against your face. You say nothing, the muscles of your thighs clenched tight as you try to remain as still as possible. He presses a kiss to your cheekbone, and the simple gesture has you releasing a breath you hadn’t known you’ve been holding. “I need an answer.”

“N-No,” you cry out, turning your head away from him, though you desperately want to feel that witty tongue against your folds. That same stuck-up ego of yours tries to remind you, you hate Kim Namjoon, but to no avail. 

Namjoon smiles, the curves of his sinfully plush lips pressed against your jaw, giving a teasing squeeze to your weak hands. “Miss ___, I didn’t take you to be such a liar,” he breathes, kissing along your jaw and down your neck. Your sharp inhale pierces through the air, and your traitorous body has your legs tightening around his waist. The deep chuckle that leaves him has every part of you vibrating, eyes fluttering shut beneath the delicious feel of his mouth. 

“Stop being a little bitch and let me take care of you,” he reprimands, voice soft yet authoritative as leans closer, your chests brushing together. You bite your tongue too late, a pitiful whine leaving your lips. Namjoon lets out another soft huff of laughter around your neck, pausing his languid kisses. 

“I’m not a-a little bitch,” you weakly defend, trembling beneath him as he licks at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. 

“Of course you aren't, Miss ___,” he agrees, though you feel he only does it to placate you. “But you must be so tired. Always trying to win your pop’s attention,” he sighs, and lifts his head up to level you with a heated gaze. You feel your lower lip tremble. He leans in, soft lips brushing against yours in a short kiss. “But you can have all of mine, princess,” he promises, gently nipping at your lip, enough to have your back arching into his solid chest. “I know I’m not your daddy but—”

You unexpectedly whine at his wording, and Namjoon grins against your mouth, swallowing the sound. He pulls off with a lewd pop. “Unless you want me to be, of course,” he propositions, and you don’t know what comes over you as you furiously nod your head. “Perfect,” he praises, one hand finally releasing you to trace down your body instead, his ridiculously large palm gliding over your thigh, hitching it higher up his waist. “Will you let me, princess?”

“Yes,” you breathe, your trembling hand stretching forward to wrap around his neck, forcefully pulling him closer to you. 

“Yes... what?” Namjoon tests, letting you manhandle him into another desperate kiss, and you wonder if your arousal has seeped through the fabric of those thin booty shorts. 

“Yes, daddy,” you say back, and the wicked grin is the last thing you feel before he’s looping his hands beneath you and tugging you into his lap. A tiny shriek leaves your lips, before you settle onto your new seat. 

Any traces of Namjoon’s smile are wiped clean as he stares up at you, fingers digging into your waist. “You’ve been really naughty tonight, princess,” he calmly says, and though you’re on top of him, you still feel like you’re below him. “Calling me in the middle of the night to come get you— what was that little thing you said to me on the phone again?”

Your cheeks tinge as you recall the words you’d uttered to him over the phone. Granted you hadn’t meant them in that way, it was somewhat relieving to know he’d been effected by them. “I need you,” you repeat in that same timid voice that had spoken to him earlier in the night. 

Namjoon lets out a low whistle at your words, basking in the embarrassment that swallows you. “How bold of you,” he says in a quiet voice, fingers gripping harder into you, pushing you down onto his cock, hardened beneath his jeans. You gasp, hands digging into his shoulders in surprise. 

“I wanna make you cum so bad,” he sighs, guiding you through the same motion again. “But, I was so fucking pissed off at you tonight,” he informs you, and your heart clenches at the irritated glance he shoots you. “Calling me in the middle of the night to get a pack of fucking gummy bears. Who do you think you are?”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you gasp, letting him haul you onto his clothed dick again. 

“Did you want my attention that bad?” He asks. “Well you have it now.” His hands slowly release you, and you whine back arching as you rut into him again. He leans back into the comfort of the couch cushions, arms casually slung across the back as he watches you. “I know you’re already so spoiled , so why don't you actually work for something for once?” He suggests, and your mind blanks as you struggle to figure out what he means. “Get yourself off for me, princess,” he commands, watching you through hooded eyes. 

You whine, lower lip drawing to a pout as you realize he’s really waiting for you, eyes flickering off to the side in a bored manner. 

Pushing any last traces of self-respect aside, you dig your fingers into his shoulders once more, slowly grinding yourself against him until all the humiliation is replaced with pleasure, your panties caught against your wetness. “Daddy,” you cry out, pleased to feel his cock plumping up beneath you. 

Your movements grow short and stilted as you carry on, rutting against him like an animal. Your eyes squeeze shut, because the foggy haze of euphoria isn't completely enough to ignore the sneering expression he wears as he watches your desperate form. “Look at you,” he murmurs, almost in awe. 

There’s a soft brush against your side, and you flinch before realizing it’s his hand, pushing the oversized shirt up until his bandaged fingers rest against the soft skin over your ribcage. “Need more, daddy,” you whimper, your lower abdomen starting to ache from all the movement. 

“Nuh uh,” Namjoon teases, though his hands continue to pet you. “You’ve become so selfish, princess,” he says, leaning forward to nip at your jaw. Your breath catches in your throat at the gesture. “But I promise, once you do this, I’ll take care of you for the rest of the night.”

The idea seems all too agreeable, and with a renewed vigor, you begin your wild thrusting against him. The rough denim of his jeans brushes the undersides of your thighs, and you’re suddenly aware how close you’ve come to your orgasm. A moan catches in your throat when you feel a finger brush the underside of your bra cups, Namjoon’s cold hands tracing over the soft flesh of your stomach. “That’s it,” he encourages, voice low as he watches you move your hips back and forth, the speed picking up as your orgasm draws closer. 

It hits you embarrassingly quickly, your back arching as Namjoon’s soft hands hold onto your sides. There’s a sudden bloom of wetness across your panties, soaking through until even your shorts become tinged with your cum. Your words catch in your throat, cheeks blazing as you catch his eye. 

Namjoon smirks, cupping your jaw in his hands to draw you in for another steamy kiss. This time, his tongue licks into your mouth, the wet appendage reaching into the warmth as you struggle to catch your breath. That humiliating orgasm lingers in the back of your mind. 

“You worked so hard,” Namjoon praises, and you melt into his embrace when you feel a stray finger press against your core, dancing along the stained material of your shorts. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly says, and your heart stops at the sudden apology, uncharacteristic of Namjoon. “I would stretch you out but my fingers are too nasty to be inside of my princess.” The scalding feel of his finger against you leaves as he raises his hand to brandish his bandaged fingers, his digits wiggling as if to emphasize their appearance. 

You grimace, and he laughs at your reaction. “Can you take me like this?” He asks, and you bite your lip as you consider it. Truthfully, you hadn’t had sex in a while, so you were undoubtedly tight down there. But then again, you had just orgasmed, and naturally your body became more relaxed after such strenuous activity. 

“I think I can,” you murmur, your voice dripping with hesitation that he quickly kisses away. 

“You don’t have to if you don't want to,” he assures, his voice almost back to the normal Kim Namjoon you’d been seeing for the past few weeks. “But I’m serious about taking care of you, princess,” he adds, softly. 

With those words and a newly found resolve, you push away any doubts and shake your head at his new offer. “No, fuck me, please,” you nearly beg, nudging his nose with your own as you search for a kiss from those sinful lips. “I want you to, daddy.”

Namjoon placates you with one brief peck, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you into him. “Good girl,” he exhales, relief tainting every syllable that leaves his mouth as he holds you in his embrace. “Gonna fuck you so good,” he promises, his head deliciously nuzzled between your breasts. “But I need you to take off these cute little shorts first.”

He runs a finger along the elastic of your shorts, letting it snap back to your skin with a loud thwack. You flinch, Namjoon’s large palms soothingly rubbing over the curve of your ass, palming the two globes with much appreciation. His hands dip into your backside, pushing the garment off as he encourages you to rise to your knees. With a little struggle, he manages to tug those horrid shorts off of you, leaving you in a pair of cheeky lace panties, the pale blue considerably darker where your arousal had leaked through earlier. 

“You’ve become so dirty,” Namjoon scolds, using the least damaged of his two hands to trail one finger over the beginning of your womanhood, teasingly pressing over where he knows your clitoris is hiding. You keen, tugging your large shirt up higher in an effort to see what he’s doing. His fingers twitch as he presses them over your saturated undergarments, as if he were wishing he could do more but is prohibited by the state of his hands. Just as you’d thought, he utters out a strained, “fuck.”

“Daddy, need you inside of me,” you pant, your hips unconsciously jolting into his fingers. He nods, pressing a hand into your shoulder to move you away as he undoes his belt buckle. Anticipation catches in your chest as you watch his every move, nimble fingers tugging his belt through the metal buckle before he’s popping open the button of his jeans. An unconscious moan slips past your lips when he pulls them down to reveal his simple grey underwear, pulled taut around his erection. 

He flashes you one final grin before he’s letting his cock spring free, the flaming tip smacking against the planes of his stomach. Your thighs quiver at the sight, but Namjoon doesn’t let you ogle him for long. He pulls you into his chest, and you cry out when you feel his cock brush against your core, hands burying themselves in his unruly hair. 

“Promise I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs against your jaw, grabbing onto the base of his cock with one hand while you twist your arm backwards to tug your underwear to the side. Realistically, you know he can't be as gentle as he wishes, especially because you haven’t been stretched out properly. But you’re so caught up in the idea of finally resolving this unspoken of sexual tension that you don’t mind the pain that’s destined to come. 

His head pushes against your throbbing opening, and you can’t believe it’s actually possible to feel your heartbeat through your pussy, but here you are. You gasp, every part of you tightening as his head pops through that initial tight ring of muscle. Namjoon, for the first time, shows you how effected he is with a low moan. “So tight,” he chokes out, that stupid smile still adorning his features. 

The absolute girth of his cock has tears welling in your eyes, and you squeeze them shut in an attempt to push them away, your lip caught between your teeth hard enough to dry blood. Namjoon soothes you with kisses along your jawline, his hand rubbing soothing circles along your hip. “You’re doing so good for me, princess,” he murmurs, and takes advantage of the moan that rips out of you by shoving further into you. 

You scream when your knees give out, and you end up falling down onto the rest of his cock, back arching when his tip brushes against your cervix. Namjoon groans in unison at your sudden movement, and for a moment, the room goes quiet. 

“Shit,” Namjoon huffs, the end of his voice tinged with laughter. Your body is slowly pulling itself out from the sudden shock, spine going numb. Namjoon reaches out to catch you, laying you against his chest. “Good girl,” he praises, “daddy couldn’t ask for anyone better.”

Your pussy clenches at his words, and sensing this, Namjoon slowly grinds upwards into you. You whimper, still sensitive from that weak orgasm from earlier. “Gonna fuck you now, princess,” he informs you. “Want me to lay you down or are you good like this?” 

It takes a second for you to realize he’s asked you something, and you belatedly murmur, “lay down,” against his neck. 

Namjoon wastes no time, hauling you off the couch in his arms, fingers pressed into the backs of your thighs. He whirls around, carefully depositing you on the soft cushion. Each movement has him shifting inside of you, and you can feel your breaths become more and more labored by the time he finally covers you with his body, one hand pressing your leg against the couch beside you. 

The first official thrust has you wantonly moaning like a porn star, and you shove a hand over your mouth in embarrassment. “Daddy,” you whimper, gluing the heel of your foot to the base of his spine as you try to push him in deeper. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Namjoon says, tugging your hand away from your mouth only to replace it with his lips. “We’re just getting started.”

Before you can say anything in response, he’s ramming his cock into you again, the sheer strength of his movements shifting you up the couch. You cry out, tangling your hands around his neck in an effort to anchor yourself to him. Despite you believing he was just starting off strong, he sets a similar pace to that thrust, his hips snapping into you with lethal force. 

“Fuck,” you sob, lips pressed against his temple as he continues his ministrations. He’s set a sort of pattern, you notice after a while, every few thrusts topped off with a lewd grind of his core against yours, your clitoris very much enjoying that little addition of his. “Faster, daddy, please,” you pant, arching into him as he pushes against you. 

Your walls convulse, your second orgasm drawing embarrassingly near, but it’s Kim Namjoon doing this, so what can you expect? 

“Look at you,” Namjoon huffs in amusement, slowing his movements until he’s shallowly thrusting into you, reveling in the way you whine for more. “So stuck-up and bitchy, getting your tight little pussy fucked by me, of all people,” he sneers, biting against your shoulder. 

“Sh-Shut the fuck up,” you breathe, hips pushing forward to meet his, desperately urging him to pick up his pace again. 

Namjoon snorts. “Don’t tell me what to do, ___,” he spits, pulling nearly all the way out, only his swollen head inside, just to slam back into you. You moan when your vision goes blurry for a second. “Look at the snobby little princess,” he mocks, fingers gripping into your hips tightly, “getting fucked like a little bitch.”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, Namjoon,” you groan, digging your nails into his shoulder as a warning. 

Namjoon reaches his good hand down to toy with your swollen bud, and you hiss. “Sorry, who are you talking to?”

“I-I’m serious, Namj—”

He gives your clit a delicious little squeeze, your words cut off by a mewl. “Who?” He repeats, pushing the bundle of nerves back and forth between his fingers, mouth licking along the sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Weren’t you supposed to call me something else tonight?” He bites down on your skin, hard enough to bruise, but you suppose that was his intention anyway. When you don’t answer, he pulls away, that teasing gaze of his locked on yours. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten,” Namjoon murmurs, his hips rocking into yours. You whine, teeth clenching with every shift. “Just say it now and I’ll make you cum right away, princess.”

“Fuck you,” you spit, the residual hurt from his mocking words from earlier leaving without much of a doubt. 

Luckily, Namjoon doesn’t seem too offended, those plush lips of his tugging into a lopsided smirk. “Already am,” he murmurs, and you watch him shift from playful to animalistic, his hips picking up that same arduous pace from earlier. 

You don’t say much between the two of you after that, his attention zeroing in on your throbbing pussy walls as he rams into you like a dog in heat, your high-pitched whines and mewls filling the night air, occasionally accompanied by the low grunts that leave his mouth every time you clench around his length. 

You can feel the burn of his cock against your abused pussy, every drag leaving a burning feeling. You begin blabbering nonsense, a trait uncharacteristic of you, as your orgasm draws nearer. When you think back on it, you’re not exactly sure what you’d said, and Namjoon hadn’t dwelled on your incoherent thoughts either. 

Truthfully, this whole night with Namjoon had been humiliating. Arousing, but undeniably humiliating. He’d revealed new aspects of you that you’d never known of, had reduced you to a sobbing mess multiple times, and then had even had the balls to mock you while his cock was buried deep inside of you. It only makes sense that your orgasm is the same, the burning heat finally brimming over the edge disgustingly prematurely, your walls spasming around him with a loud, “daddy” falling from your lips.

“Fuck,” Namjoon grunts, his hips only seeming to pick up their already brutal pace as you coat his dick with your arousal, body quickly falling lax beneath him. His hips slap against yours, and the feeling has your already sensitive body quivering. 

“Come on, daddy,” you breathlessly murmur, trailing a hand down the side of his face, before pulling him into a languid kiss. It’s the first one you’ve been in command of, slotting your mouths together before slipping your tongue past those plump lips that have had you hypnotized all night. 

Namjoon grows restless, and you swallow every little sound he makes, before he’s hastily pulling out of you, giving his swollen cock a few harsh pulls before shooting across your open legs. Another curse slips through his lips, his member softening in his grip. 

For a few moments, your body seems completely okay with the idea of falling asleep right then and there, your vision going hazy as you stare up at Namjoon’s towering figure. Namjoon doesn’t seem to agree though, and your heart jumps into your throat when he pulls his shirt over his head, his never before seen body coming into view. Before you can get too excited though, he’s dragging the cloth along your thighs and between your legs, and you cry out from oversensitivity. 

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee, dutifully cleaning you off before tossing his soiled clothing somewhere onto the ground. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his large palms running alongside your thighs, his voice lulling you to sleep. “Where’s your room, princess?”

Your own voice comes out sleepily, giving him the most basic directions you can remember. There’s a pleasant buzzing in your chest when he gently picks you up, but the rest of your memories become fuzzy after he tucks you into bed. 

Your phone rings a little past noon, and you groggily reach out for it, swiping the answer button cross the screen. Your father’s voice greets you in a panicked frenzy. 

“Sweetie, I know you were supposed to drop by right now, but none of us can get a hold of that damn kid,” he rushes, his silence not actually silent as it fills the receiver with the bustling sounds of his office. “As soon as I get my hands on him, I’m gonna kill him.”

You yawn, running a hand over your eyes as you glance at the time. “It’s fine,” you murmur, “I gave Namjoon the day off.”

Your father chokes. “You did what? Honey, I know he’s technically working under you right now, but you can’t do that, especially not with one of my most prized pupi-”

“Bye, dad,” you drawl, hanging up before he can get another word in. You toss your phone off to the side, rolling over in your bed until your body bumps into another one, soft and warm, muscles delicious beneath your fingers. You rearrange their limbs until their arms are wrapped around you, your nose pressed against his neck. 

Namjoon snorts, tightening his grip around you. “Spoiled as fuck.”

[kvltprince]

I was tagged by the lovely @leporidaefluff (Thank you! it was the push i needed to get started on this instead of just going oh~ neat~!)

Rules:

1. Choose an OC.

2. Answer them as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same. Sorry if anyone has already been tagged, no obligation. @ heathie on whatever acct cos im a dumbass an i miss your bois(you miss em too), @randomwordsandstormydays, @randomfuzzbunny, @jornaquinn @chrysocolladawn ( @somewhere-withoutyou if you would...) and anyone else who would enjoy doing this. (if i get tagged again ill do anther oc. i would tag a few others but i feel weird tagging ppl i dont like ever talk to lol.)

What is your name?

"Lucy Grandchester, yeah that one.” 

How old are you?

“Fourty-five unless you are getting nitpicky about cryostasis. That doesn’t count unless I am joking with a ghoul, honestly.”

What do you look like?

He lets out a small half chuckle, "Oh, we are doing this okay. I’ll bite. Slightly short middle aged punk, long greying curly hair, undercut, with one leg and too many tattoos?”

Where are you from? Where do you live now?

Lucy uncomfortably takes down his hair and redoes his messy bun while sighing and becoming a bit short. “I’m from just the other side of that irradiated water near that gas station south of here. Name kinda gives it away. You have seen it? I honestly am not sure how it’s standing still between the bombs and everything else. It’s looked after now, and is a surprise asset to still have. I lived in Boston for a while after all that, and back in this area once Nuka World was opened, then back in the Boston area, and would you look at that I am back in Nuka World and it is a lot more comfortable now.”

What was your childhood like?

"...Unstable, for everyone. It got a bit better once my parents were dead... are we done with this line of questions? Or am I excusing you?”

What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?

“Well, I started out trying to play nicely vaguely with anyone that didn’t try to shoot me first. That.... hasn’t stayed how it is. At least not fully, though i generally play nice until I am given a reason not to. I am friendly with the Disciples, the Operators, several of the Children of Atom groups that haven't irradiated their sense out of their heads yet, the Railroad.”

Tell me about your best friend.

He finally visibly relaxes the rest of the way after that history business, and takes a drink of a quantum. “Oh only one best friend? Are we in high school again? aw Alright. We have some parallel histories.” He swirls the glowing drink, but doesn't let himself get lost in his head too far. “Great humor, puts up with my shit somehow, doesn't blow my sneaking. Laugh that could take on the world even though they probably wouldn't. No I am not spoiling who I decided on. A man has to have some secrets somewhere and mine are in short supply”

Do you have a family? Tell me about them!

“My son Shaun never ceases to surprise me with what he can come up with, and how well adjusted he is. Codsworth is still helping out with the household, and helping keep Shaun from disassembling live turrets while I am away, though now he is living here at Fizztop with us. Surprisingly it seems to be an alright setup, and Shaun has taught a few people some upgrades in their downtime. There is enough room to keep things comfortable, and I have done some park remodeling since I arrived. My closest companions that don’t hate my choices I have made I consider family, but that has become a smaller circle than before.”

What about a partner or partners?

“Gage of course, he is my husband for whatever it is worth in the wasteland. Otherwise I suppose that depends how you are defining that. I am an affectionate person and some people seem to have rather strict definitions of where the edge of friend and partner should be”

Who are your enemies, and why?

“Several people aren’t speaking to me very well at best after I have settled into the Overboss seat here, on a personal level. The Pack were wiped out. The Brotherhood were wiped out. The Institute were wiped out. The minutemen are pretty pissed understandably. The Gunners still show up in vertibirds sometimes and are still pretty fun target practice. My settlements are generally comfortable, and my outposts mostly only have problems with gunners or trappers. Minor annoyances.”

Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?

“Yeah, of course. I think they got too headstrong for their flightsuits. I mean I understand but you really can’t do that shit and expect no repercussions. It was quite a firework show honestly, I wonder how far away the heat was felt..”

What about The Enclave?

"I don’t know much about them, only one of their ex-soldiers, he didn’t exactly tell me much. Cute, a bit odd. Not sure if it is the radiation that did that or not.”

How do you feel about Super Mutants?

He has a flash of a pensive thought drift across his face “There’s a few that aren’t so bad. Obviously the FEV isn’t mass-curable though, so not exactly much of a choice what to do about them unless you like getting a rocket launcher or a nuke in your face.”

What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?

“Proobably~ around Bunker Hill, It was just, A Lot. That whole time was not just the specific fight. I don’t remember a lot of it, I’m pretty sure Gage half dragged me home after the main running around and meetings after the fight. I don’t think I had a full thought for a while.”

Have you ever fought a Deathclaw?

He thumb points to a sniper rifle leaning against the wall “Yeah, too often, thankfully usually I see them first, and I’ve gotten the sneaking thing down. They make pretty good steaks.”

Do you like fighting?

“Sometimes, honestly. Something tired and overstated about old habits or something boring. Really though, it is exciting and keeps the boredom away. Playfighting and sparring will do, no need to draw blood. I guess. Good to keep knife and sneaking skills sharp however you can.”

What’s your weapon of choice?

“A modded real sharp Throatslicer she called it, I swear Nisha found this thing in the loading dock or something it is the nicest box-cutter I have ever owned. Opens up anything.”

How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?)

“Outlive everything around me usually by not being seen, notice it first, shoot it faster, stab it more, talk my way out of it, or by luck. I have zero real idea, but I can eat nearly anything and I bet that helps too.”

Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them?

"Of course, there are a bunch, and I was ushered into 111 to turn my life upside down. They seem to only be any good for salvage, horror stories, clean water sometimes, and if you are real lucky a trade post and a shave. I have a settlement vault that is doing well that I have taken over and built up, but that is not Vault-Tec related, obviously.”

How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?

“I have a few recipes that are good for radiation, though it doesn't affect me very badly overall and I am slow to feel any sickness. I suspect that one day I will turn into a ghoul.” He is rather matter of fact and unbothered by this, and hints that he knows that not getting sick much from radiation means just that.

What’s your favorite wasteland critter?

“Probably the stags and gazelles and other herd animals. They are overall unchanged other than most have two heads now, they are still nice to watch”

What’s your least favorite wasteland critter?

“Honestly? radscorpions? Those fuckers are too quick and you cant shoot them cos they tunnel and they knock you on your ass and poison you and just UGH”

How do you feel about robots?

"Robots are alright if they are not causing trouble. Some of them are nice. Jezebel is not so nice, but she is guarding red rocket and bitching the entire time so shes no longer my problem. The Rust Devil’s robots are a pain in my ass for real.”

How many caps do you have on you right now?

"Plenty.”

Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla?

He cocks his head slightly “I havent heard that one in a while. Depends on the flavor of Nuka Cola, I do like Sunset Sarsaparilla though, if you have any.”

Do you do chems?

"Not recreationally anymore. No, not because of him.” He nods toward Gage “It just, gets out of hand”

Do you ever think about the Pre-War world?

"Not as often as you would expect, I mean obviously there is the ‘oh i remember when that wasn't destroyed’ of things, but things are more comfortable than I thought they could be”

What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?

His eyes narrow slightly “I don’t really do regret. Things were done the way they were because it was the choice at the time. A choice now for an old situation isn’t helpful to living my current life or my old life. I am not living then, I am living now.” 

What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?

“Surviving all of this, and myself. Creating this strange semi-stability in this post apocalyptic place.”

What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?

“Keep me and mine safe, happy as we can be, and I hope that my found-family never fully stops growing. Curious what the future holds for my raiders and friends, there is so much potential, it could be risky but it is there. For once it is a good solid place to be, and it’s mine.” Lucy polishes off his questionable as hell drink with a smile.

[shymeg]

Thanks for the tag @theserpentsqueen 🐍🐍🐍

rules: tag ten followers you want to get know better.

name: Meghan

gender: female

star sign: Cancer

height: 5 feet 7

age: 80’s baby/child

sexuality: straight

house: I have no clue I never watched Harry Potter. I once took a quiz on fb and I was hufflepuff??

what image do you have as your wallpaper? my computer screen my cats that will prob never change even though I only have 1 now. My phone the lock screen is me because with my depression I was told to look at myself so that way I have too….my reg screen for my phone is my cat Luna the same one as my pic on here. I mean she wore it for 20 secs and she didn’t murder me.

have you ever had a crush on a teacher? no

where do you see yourself in ten years? Hopefully out of this town and enjoying life more.

if you could be anywhere else right now, where? Maybe Maine or Ireland always wanted to go there.

what was your coolest halloween costume? i’ve had some pretty cool Halloween and Zombie pub crawl outfits my fave from Zombie Crawl my friend’s and I dressed up as Disney Characters I was Belle. I had blood everywhere and when ppl asked how I died I said the Beast killed me duh!

As for Halloween I had a nurses costume and I hated it. So I found some holey tights, i took some old tights that had rips in them that had skulls and used them as gloves, put some fangs in my mouth and my blue converse shoes that had rainbow brite laces and Grumpy bear from the carebears laces and ripped the nurses costume like I had been attacked, put blood and bruises and freshly made puncture wounds. I carried fake blood with me and a redish/black lipstick and my nails I made them look dirty like I had literally just lost a fight. Prob best costume.

what was your favourite 90′s show? Fresh Prince of Bel-Aire, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, Are you Afraid of the Dark, Beverley hills 90210, Clarissa explains it all, Ahhh real monsters, Doug, Hey Arnold, Sailor moon, Buffy the vampire Slayer, Charmed & power puff girls

last kiss? Dunno its been a long time

have you ever been stood up? nope

have you ever been to las vegas? no

favourite pair of shoes? Any of my converse shoes I keep them for ages

favourite fruit? cherries

favourite book? Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Everytime I read it I find something new.

the stupidest thing you’ve ever done? Umm took something that wasn’t mine but I figured why not. My friend and I were drinking as well. Went to a coffee shop I got super paranoid she had the giggles and I was like, “oh shit there are all these cops around we are going to get caught” she is like, “I’ll try not to laugh” which btw lasted 3 mins. We got into her car and she thought she was driving me home like literally home that was 4 hrs away and not my Nana’s house. I get car sick. Puke all over her car. She laughs about it. We stop at a gas station so I can change clothes and Vaccum the car. We end up going to my Nana’s she has a piece of pie and leaves. I go back upstairs and puke my guts out for it felt like 2 hrs. Get into bed and I felt like the girl from the craft saying, “I’m flying” wake up the next day have a shower puke again. My face is literally pale. My grandparents and my mom look at me, “what happened last night?” I lie and say, “I got car sick” they totally bought it. Probably helped my face was pale.

all-time favourite tv shows: degrassi junior high, degrassi high, sailor moon, Supernatural, Dark Shadows, Penny Dreadful, Ash vs the evil dead, 21 jump street, orphan black, black butler, cowboy bebop, Buffy the vampire Slayer, Charmed & Riverdale

the last movie you saw at the theatre: Get out

Ummm lets see I think ummmm @mogitz @it-happened-one-starry-night @youbuildmeupbeliever @alisondeluca @cheryllclayton @thenerdylatina @caseysmom39 @night-hawk94 @nimmieamee @noorakardemmomesaetre sorry if you already did it.

[hunkkeiths-blog]

So I just scrolled 20000 years back on your blog like the creep I am and I saw you mention schizophrenic Keith headcanons but never actually saw schizo Keith headcanons and I'm 👀👀👀

once again thank you so much for sending this! i really really love this au but i never talk about it bc i feel like no one cares and this makes me sooo happy!

also sorry again for answering late i just wanted to be able to type everything relatively quickly and use a readmore

(i added links that lead to wiki pages to explain what certain stuff is, you don’t need to click them or anything)

ok so here goes

[Food mentions and slight emeto for this part]

Keith has a lot of trouble with food, both bc of sensory issues and paranoia

when its sensory, its mostly if the texture is too different to whats hes used to, or if theres too much taste and theres anything else (a sound, some lights flashing, whatever) hell get overwhelmed really easily. so he tries to stick to relatively tasteless stuff

Keith also gets a lot of persecutory delusions and some of the most recurring ones is that his food has been poisoned, having relatively tasteless food helps with not being as convinced of that

On good days (well as good a day as you can have when you think your food has been poisoned anyway), he can sort of just power through it and eat enough to not be starving.

On bad days, he either doesn’t eat at all, or if he only realises it after having eaten he becomes sick/makes himself sick.

Back on Earth, especially during his year alone, he had 3-4 “trusted foods/brands” and he almost exclusively only ate those

Once on the ship, things get very complicated, because from the start, he doesn’t trust the altean food goo (he still doesn’t if he’s entirely honest, but they’ve all been eating it and none of them are dead yet so if it is poisoned its slow acting enough) so he mostly only eats when hes absolutely starving for the first month or so before he slowly starts to eat more of the altean meals

He does however trust what Hunk cooks partly because he trusts Hunk, partly because Hunk eats it too, and (taste+texture of the food goo aside) hes always more comfortable when Hunk cooks.

[Warning ended]

While developing and after when he had it (which was 2 or 3 years before he entered the Garrison), Keith ended up almost entirely isolated from people, in part because he would willingly withdraw from others, in part because the people who took care of him after his father left/died (foster families i guess? i dont really know how the system works and i cant imagine how much worse it must be for a schizophrenic kid so) didn’t really know what to do with him because he had really bad emotional blunting

Because he was mostly left alone, he started focusing alot on the delusions he had at the time, the main one of which was that he just wasnt human (which yes turned out to be somewhat true, but it’s still a delusion). that led him to thinking of going to space because of a feeling that something would happen there. which led him to the garrison which is how he ended up there.

At the Garrison, he was amazing at flying and mediocre at best in all his other classes.

This is partly because outside of doing stuff that could actually directly get him to space, he wasnt able to get any motivation to do anything else. (even if he gets kicked out, he can just steal a rocket or something right?)

he also didnt really have any friends because he didnt approach anyone and more or less actively avoided anyone trying to get close to him.

the way he just was; never showing any emotion, barely speaking, the weird things he sometimes did, etc; sort of drove ppl away on its own

(this is also sort of the reason he didnt remember him and lances “rivalry” in s1ep1. he never actually noticed lance thought of him as a rival, he just thought lance was sort of loud)

Shiro ended up like being a mentor or something to Keith, and Keith wasnt able to really avoid him

They start off sort of rocky, because Keith hates interacting with other people, due to paranoid thoughts (”he can read my mind”, “he wants to hurt me”, and so on) that, while they werent nearly as bad as off meds, were still present even with medication.

Slowly though, Keith warms up to Shiro and starts trusting him (though shiro is never really sure because Keith doesnt show it at all)

Keith starts doing better in all his classes, because he’s interpreted that shiro will be extremely disappointed in him if he ends up getting kicked out because of poor grades, and hes terrified of disappointing literally the only person in the world he trusts

It also leads to Keith putting a minimum of effort into becoming at least somewhat expressive 

When the kerberos mission fails, keith is destroyed. all his grades almost instantly drop and he barely shows up to class because losing the only person he trusts essentially makes him totally apathetic, and go back to having alot of paranoid thoughts/delusions (mostly surrounding the garrison staging the entire thing, sort of fake moon landing style but with actual murder to make people back off on exploring space because of Something), and feeling like he’s being stalked by people (not entirely untrue tbh), and deal with anhedonia. and thats how he gets kicked out/how he drops out 

Living entirely alone (as in without any supervision) was hell for Keith.

Moving to the shack after dropping out messed with his entire routine, and without a relatively strict routine, he ends up forgetting his meds

Off medication, he had really really really horrible episodes that almost always ended with him getting hurt in some way

Off-meds, he starts his garrison/shiro conspiracy wall

He also found the blue lions cave during an episode

After a while (keith never tries to find out how much time he spent without his meds because he forgot about them), he ends up taking his antipsychotics again, and almost destroys the wall, except theres a feeling he still has that he rememebers he had during an episode.

He ends up going to the cave again, and “Holy shit that was real??” so he restarts his wall while being a bit more down to Earth.

The day shiro crashes on earth is one of the best days of his life bc, well, shiro, but also because he was actually right for once.

Overall, Keith’s pretty good at organising his thoughts and not speaking incoherently, but if hes at all stressed, hell go through a lot of thought blocking

It’s really annoying because Keith hates not being understood and not finishing his points, but often, even if the person hes talking to reminds him what he was talking about, he cant remember what he was going to say after

He also used to think that the thought blocking was aliens and/or the government stealing away all his thoughts to study humans (or, before the garrison: not entirely human entities)

His thoughts are alot more disorganised than his speech shows (under normal circumstances, there are occasions where he does get mostly incoherent). He’s learned to think of what hes going to say step by step before saying it

What he says often still comes off as not entirely thought out, rude, etc because thinking about what order words are going to come out of his mouth doesnt fix not understanding how to interact with others

And here’s a bunch of stuff i couldn’t really make long enough to warrant a separate section:

Keith stims mostly when hes nervous or bored, and he stims by scratching his nails against things, because he likes the sounds it makes.

[self harm (sort of)] at some point, the team notices that when theres nothing for him to scratch (like a wall or something), hell scratch at his own skin, because scratching fabric feels/sounds horrible, often until he scratches part of it off. so they make him these little squares of material to scratch at

Keith does a lot of magical thinking (i cant find an easy link for this but in this case its like seeing signs in things that are seemingly unrelated if that makes sense) where he’ll see a ‘sign’ and feel like he has to do something (what something is varies from something very specific to just “something”)

since he obviously cant always do what hes supposed to do after seeing the signs, hes started writing down everything so he can do it later (lance’s idea). it helps a lot.

Keith hates places with background noises that arent constant (like they stop and start, stop and start), even if they arent particularly loud, because he loses his entire train of thought whenever it stops or starts

Ok! that’s all I can think of right now, I hope this answered what you were looking for! 

I lost my entire train of thought at least 5 times while typing this so I’ll probably add more things in my tag later on when I think of them again!

I’m also writing an actual story with this, it should come out around the end of June if you’re interested!

[systemmalfucktion]

oc asks stuff i stole and didnt proof read

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

ollie petrov, i chose the name ollie bc i liked it and pretrov is just one of the most common surnames in russia. the meaning isn’t important to his character at all 

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

nah

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory? 

he had a decent childhood and grew up in a high income family but suffered the Neglect from daddy. his fondest memories are w childhood friends, bad memory would be Neglect from daddy and mommy and living in fear 

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents? 

he loved his mama lots until she walked out on him, he didn’t understand why and he resented her A Lot, when he came to understand why she did it he thought she was a coward and resented her A Lot More. he never forgives her for it over the course of the entire story 

he cared for his dad maybe when he was younger but after his mom left he was basically sent off elsewhere. he made no efforts to talk to his dad over the phone or ask for visits bc he was completely content with not seeing him. after a bit he literally just hates his dad bc of Plot Related Issues, when they have their own fucked up version of Dad to Son talk later he word vomits every thing he hates about him and the dads like “ya i figured this would happen the moment u came outta mamas pussy. dammit”

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

no sibs

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

he was really good in school and used it as an outlet to pour all his attention into bc he liked the satisfaction it gave him when he got good grades, he planned on going to college until Plot Related Issues derailed his life. he liked the English Language and didn’t care for like science n shit

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood? 

when he was growing up he was just a friendly nice only kid so he liked to treat friends like his family so he was well liked, when he moved away he lost all contact with anyone there. friends he makes in russia when he first moves there are mostly also left behind, hes Big on leaving places thats 4 sure

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals? 

no pets as a child, he likes animals and is a cat person but didnt see a reason to get a pet

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals? 

animals are probably chill with him, i imagine any instance with animals is probably just a chill one

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

same w animals, hes just chill. kids probably would like him bc hes relaxed and not strict. he likes the idea of being traditional and starting a family but he truly doesn't see it happening for him given Plot 

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?

nope he eats whats put in front of him almost always

12. What is their favourite food? 

probs like a soup or something warm and filling

13. What is their least favourite food?

Get Those Damn Avocados Away  

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?

when he went out to restaurants with his ma and pops as a child, or when way later his roommate Matt cooks for him when he was goin thru sum shit

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

he doesnt cook anything complicated at all, when shopping for himself its a lot of instant food bc hes cheap and doesnt care to put a lot of effort into his food. others either dont care or thinks its unhealthy

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it? 

ive thought of this a lot and its mostly momentos, not that it matters bc every item he gets from someone is eventually left behind when he leaves russia as Symbolism. the collection serves almost no purpose bc of how often he Jumps Ship when it comes to relationships w other human beings but thats kinda the point

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

hes fine with pictures like selfies w ppl or scenery until hes in america, where he is convinced any pictures he takes or pictures hes in will end up being the reason hes found out. but in russia he liked taking silly pictures of just stuff around him. its like on instagram u dont know what someone looks like until u looked at what they were tagged in kinda, crappy over filtered pics of stuff around him like trees or windows. 1 of those instagrams....

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

he likes those shitty kind of john green novel types with the manic pixie dream with the wallflower type, indie music, documentaries or crime related, video games that are story driven rather than multiplayer. just ur average Introverted Bro

19. What’s their least favourite genres?

sci fi or anything BORING like that

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

doesnt care for musicals but likes music, he gets really focused when his favorite song comes on bc he wants to appreciate it if its on and hes not focused on it he will play it over again to Appreciate it.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

he has a temper but hides it well but if u manage to get him to actually lose him temper he will glare at u until its his turn to speak and argue u 1 response  before he Fucks Right Off meaning if it doesnt end right there Boy’s Got A Grudge. it doesnt happen often bc hes not huge on confrontation, the reason why goes from social anxiety when he was 14 to PSTD when he was 16

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

i dont know about favorite insults but he manages to stay polite in the face of people, and bitches about them to sergei when he can 

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

good memory and with faces for sure 

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

he doesnt stay up very late all that often until he has a reason to (heists n whatnot) he sleeps on an old mattress twin sized, p soft 

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

hed probably have normie humor b4 he met the shitpost that is (i had 2 rename her bc i forgot her fuckin russian name kms but this is a name on doulingo a lot so i wont forget hopefully) vera, her humor is like my mains shitposts so hed find that stuff funny after a bit. he doesnt make many jokes 

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions? 

hes good at hiding emotions but when hes happy abt something (thankful for ex) he’ll make it known to them, good times w friends he’ll basically mirror what they’re doing, happy when he’s by himself would be a jittery smiling Fool 

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

lots make him sad, his daddy issues, roommate issues, mental health n shit. he cries a few times and tries to be secretive about it, over time he’s not that ashamed to cry in front of sergei given that he’s seen him cry a couple times. when he’s sad he’s even more quiet and sulky. if u made him sad and said u were sorry he’d say he accepted the apology but like the mood wouldn’t lighten up at all. 

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

1. big fear is probably getting hurt/attacked and being helpless (after the Great Stab), after that era he’s basically all up in self defense knowledge to prevent that turn out again. he’s scared of the ppl he deals to and eventually is scared of anyone he doesnt know well (in america, thats everyone outside of matty, joe, and austin) bc of the threat of getting caught by work peers who are looking 4 him. 

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective? 

if he were to find out someones fear he wouldnt put it against them, if a situation came out where he could protect them from it he would try to do so casually. Nice Guy

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

he doesn’t exercise but if there were a case of him doing so pre would be a motivated Bro ready to get pumped and post would be tired dead man

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

he drank a bit in russia, hes the Underage Ollie. Underage Ollie is really clingy to sergei, the only guy he knows in the group of Bros around him, he tries to have a good time and laugh w everyone. hungover he’s sick and pitiful, boo hoo woe is me i feel like shit kinda way. when ollies around drunk sergei imagine this season of morty dealing with rick, like fed the fuck up but caring uknow? 

Not Underage Ollie is a lil more fun, he went 2 sum clubs w austin only a few times  ;) ;), hungover he was a less whiny version of Underage Ollie. he’s less caring when others are drunk around him bc its austin and austin drinks irresponsibly and is also is ex so SHRUG 

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

he dresses comfort over fashion and owns like 3 shirts basically. clothes shopping is not really a priority for him at all, but he does appreciate some aesthetics just not on himself.  he sleeps in his panties (undies) with a shirt, doesnt wear makeup. his hair is a mousy brown i guess? its not tamed at all hes got that anime boy protag gohan/luffy/ash hair  

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

boxer briefs 

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

hes a slight young twink man, and in his youth hes like 5′5 and it caps at like 5′10 maybe when he’s an adult. he’s ok w his body but everyones got insecurities 

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure? 

guilty pleasure are the john green type shitty novels and the ungulity pleasure is idk! slime vids or something

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

he’s good at writing i guess (4 school, in english n russian), he likes 2 read, and he can sing but its like generic male voice singing. its just ok

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

he likes 2 read and he’s fast i guess, n like i said the genre he likes is that shitty poetic adorkable fictional stuff 

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

he likes when ppl are assertive, not really when assertive @ him, but when they can be assertive in general. he would love to be able to hold any power in any conversation he’s in between ages 0-18

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging? 

emails and messages 

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

he can stay awake without any energy boosters for a while

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

he’s gay, he likes Boys. he likes nice friendly boys who basically carry out social interactions and are good at not letting things get awkward (this goes for austin and matt and even vera). he needs a lot of space, like an unhealthy amount of space, Like Mayhaps There’s Something Wrong amount of space. 

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

goals: get outta the bis! 

sacrifice: friend’s safety/livelihood!

secret ambition/guilty subconscious: get in bis and succeed 2 make papa proud! its a job handed to him that makes BANK and is basically a fallback if his goal doesnt work except he wont admit it to himself

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

no religion basically, he would probably not be an asshole about it but be kinda an asshole abt religion in private

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most? 

he loves the winter bc he likes being bundled up, overcast sky, he’s good in the cold and he complains abt wet weather (rain and snow) 

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves? 

like he’s a troubled navie kid, and he’ll come around when it comes time for him to work. ollie doesnt know about the work he has to do when he’s older for a while, all he knows is that everyone is Preparing him for something. he knows he’s troubled but he doesnt think of himself as stubborn like other ppl do. 

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

no, most of the time he’s kinda awkward. it reflects him p good :(. he basically just goes “hey im ollie” and depending on who it is he’ll explain what he’s doing like “i have your coke” or “im austins friend. thanks for taking me in” 

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

he’ll act mannerly and polite like he usually does, he likes getting dressed up fancy and being in a fancy space. not one for chit chat but he’s not Hating it

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend? 

he doesnt care for parties i guess, he turns up at them to supply the good stuff and he tries to act like it’s a job, except usually the person he deals with is like ??? y so serious bitch? he’s dragged along by sergei p often, he doesnt complain in front of others but throws fits with him before or after

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

Daddys Jacket. its just a winter coat that he wears a lot

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials? 

accurate to what happsn in canon. his clothes, phone, chargers, wallet, and i think that would be it. hes pretty minimalist and doesnt want to be held down by stuff cus when he went to america he did so Swiftly.