#stop fucking showing me these things anyway

[fungateshortcakes]

Logan Howlett p☆rn links

I'm so sorry it's not many, but fucking hell why didn’t anyone tell me how hard it is to find what you're looking for on twitter. It was so difficult for no reason. Elon, your app is shit and so are you

Anyways, I hope you still like them <3

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• Whispering dirty things into your ear, his thrusts desperate but deep so you'd feel old man Logans cock all the way in your tummy

• The rain is tapping against the windows of his truck, and you and origins Logan feel needy for each other

• Sloppy, wet and loose. This is the way 70s Logan has your pussy sounding while he fingers you.

• Trilogy Logan loves these lazy mornings with you. No stress, no hurry, just his cock buried in your cunt while he spoons you, making you moan as he circles your clit slowly.

• Stop fucking you so you can answer Wades phone call? Worst Logan wouldn’t even dream of it.

• It had taken a while to ease old man Logan into this. He was too old for this stuff, he wouldn’t even enjoy it. The way he arches his back when your strap stretches him open tells another shory tho.

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This was such a pain in the ass omg. And I am sorry if any of the hashtags or captions on the website are weird, but no matter what you search, most of it will contain some kind of incest/underage/rape bullshit. So sorry about that :/

Maybe I'll do another, but only if you show this one lots of love bc I can't stress enough how long this took😭

[fear-is-truth]

NAM-GYU — RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

➛ ♱ warnings… some nsfw parts ．MDNI

➛ ♱ featuring… shy!reader．clingy!reader．bitchy!reader

shy!reader

ᛝ finds it very cute. too cute. gets a little too much satisfaction from making her flustered.

ᛝ tilts her chin up with a condescending smirk. teases her for stammering. “use your words, baby.”

ᛝ loves coaxing reactions out of her. corrupting her. teasing her, watching her eyes widen when he whispers pure filth in her ear during the worst moments.

ᛝ secretly melts when she gets comfortable to show affection first. if she grabs his hand in public? rests her head on his shoulder? dick goes whoosh.

ᛝ coos mockingly at her when she tries to stifle her moans, covering her mouth with trembling fingers. “oh, don’t do that, baby.” he leans in, lips brushing her ear. “wanna hear every little sound you make.”

ᛝ if she tries to turn her head away, too embarrassed to meet his eyes, he tuts in mock disappointment. fingers curling under her chin, tilting her face back toward him. “you gonna keep acting all innocent when you’re squeezing me like that?”

ᛝ loves how reactive and sensitive she is. when she’s too flustered to even speak, just whining and whimpering, he loves it because he can do all the dirty talking.

ᛝ and when she’s a trembling mess beneath him, eyes glassy, lips parted, still too shy to meet his gaze? that’s his favourite part.

clingy!reader

ᛝ loves her clinginess. thrives off it. makes him feel needed. dangerous, because now he knows he has her.

ᛝ nam-gyu is a touchy person himself, so the fact that he doesn’t have to hide it with her? perfect.

ᛝ “baby, where are you going?” half-whined, half-teasing, as he tugs her back onto the bed.

ᛝ snaps at you sometimes, but it’s never long before he’s smoothing it over, murmuring soft apologies against her temple. she’s not going anywhere.

ᛝ constantly touching her, even if it’s in subtle, subconscious ways. his fingers on the inside of her wrist, his chin resting on her shoulder, his thigh pressed against hers under the table.

ᛝ after sex, he never wants to pull out immediately. he keeps himself buried inside, hands smoothing down her sides, lazy, possessive kisses against her shoulder.

ᛝ if she’s the kind of clingy that always wants his attention, he eats it up. loves knowing that she needs him. if she ever stops being so affectionate, he overcompensates, gets needier than her.

ᛝ sighs when she hugs him from behind, acting put upon, but his fingers find hers anyway, lacing them together.

ᛝ arguments never last long, because she always come crawling back, and he knows it.

ᛝ gets spoiled in the relationship. because she’s always touching him, always doting on him, he starts expecting it. if she doesn’t shower him in attention, he gets sulky and irritated.

bitchy!reader

ᛝ pretends he can’t stand her. calls her a dumb bitch, a stupid cunt. they are constantly at each other’s throats. toxic, borderline hate sex. they fight, and then they fuck, and then they fight again. ad nauseam.

ᛝ pisses her off on purpose just so she’ll grab his collar and snarl in his face: “do it again, see what happens.” he always does it again.

ᛝ the only thing she should never do is insult /emasculate him while he’s high on drugs, otherwise he’ll fly into a blind rage and might actually hurt someone.

ᛝ he gets off on the power struggle. loves that she won’t just give him what he wants. makes it all the more satisfying when she finally does.

ᛝ jealous and possessive asf.

ᛝ insists she’s annoying but gets sulky if she ignores him for too long. often shows up at her place uninvited.

ᛝ secretly admires the way she carries herself. how she doesn’t take shit from other people.

 fear-is-truth 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[kann1bal1st1c-vvh0r3yummyyummy]

Hey guys he’s a ramble for you!

Ugh I love MegOp but I need in a show or something and it’s an adult cartoon (bc of language and references) about just after megs got kicked out of iacon and it’s them fighting and Op and Megatron having the following conversation;

~ Open scene : everyone is fighting on a oil rig, like in GEN1 the Decepticons are stealing earths resources to get back to cybertron. Blood, gore, swearing and we zoom in on MEGATRON and OPTIMS PRIME fighting ~

OPTIMUS PRIME; MEGATRON! WE DONT HAVE TO FIGHT!

MEGATRON; Darling, where’s the fun in that?

Everyone else; 🤨 *camera turns around to the crowd of autobots and Decepticons and they all pause and stop to possess what megs just said*

OPTIMUS PRIME; YOU— *just registered that Megatron referred to him darling* ….You won’t win, M-megatron… *he is flustered, he is definitely blushing, everyone can tell*

MEGATRON; OH YES, I WILL! *sexy evil laugh* I WILL TAKE YOU DOWN, PRIME! *is aware he’s flirting with his ex in front of everyone*

*fighting continues*

KNOCKOUT; Were they trying to interface verbally oooorrrr….? *knockout says this just as the fight is wrapping up and almost over*

OP AND MEGS; WHAT?! NO THIS IS NORMAL FIGHTING ARGUMENTS!!!!

*out of embarrassment both sides flee back to THEYRE OWN RESPECTED SIDES but the Decepticons won this round*

End scene!

And this show would be like a MegOp shipper’s dream! It would have the transition thing from gen1 too!!!

and maybe IDW comics’ design or maybe earthspark’s design for them and it would be an entire new continuity with dark satire elements with references to the comics and references to the fandom (valveplug) and to sweeten up the fandom even more will throw in some characters like hot rod/rodimus and ultra Magnus and make all the women hot and make some Characters non-binary bc we can and references to Unicron and Primus, maybe even a flashback of Optimus prime, talking to previous and previous being a massive dick to him and being NOTHING Like the myths say like;

Open scene - in the autobot base

OP; I still remember the day he saved me.

*Insert flash back transition to being in cybertron’s core*

Primus; oh shiiiiiiiit, You’re real fucked uppppp…. EVERYONE COME LOOK AT… Uhhhhh… what’s your name again?

OP; Orion Pax….

Primus; OH YEAHHHHHH!! EVERYONE COME LOOK AT ORION!!!

The 13; oh shit, you right- *talking amongst themselves, overlapping talking*

Primus; RIGHT NOW SHUT UP!

Everyone; *is quiet very quickly*

Primus; ok so Orion, we’re gonna change your name and fix you up and here you can have that too!

OP; w-whats my new name— IS THAT THE MATRIX OF LEADERSHIP?!

Primus; YUP YOURS NOW! uhhhh and You’re now OPTIMUS PRIME! Anyways Bye have fun

The 13; bye!

END SCENE

And maybe even shenanigans with dark Energon but uh Give me more ideas on this, reader, please! Give me more ships to add to this!!!!  this was going to start off as an AU post but motherfucker, I’ve just made up a new Continuity! A follow-up from TFone but A little bit more silly!

[bvidzsoo]

Minaaaa, my lovely Mina, let me munch on your cheeks, you're literally so sweet my jaw was on the floor reading this...like SHUT UP

Ngl I was surprised when you said you'd be pushing back reading this cuz DAFUQ Hongjoong is literally your man, but priorities first, I guess-ahahaha, luv u don't come for me ok bye.

Anyways, I don’t even know where to start. Whenever I read something new of yours, it feels like you outdo your previous work, which is crazy because I always think, “This is it, this is the story!” But then you go ahead and prove me wrong by creating a new masterpiece that won’t leave my head for an X amount of time.

Man, keep your toes under the blanket tonight because I might just find them...you always say stuff that just makes me go AUDHIFBIIHFNKABSDKGF-

Both the MC and Hongjoong were really interesting characters in this story and for a good chunk into the fic, I didn't know what to think about Hongjoong. He was quite annoying in the beginning with his "know it all" talk and I feel like his attempt at cheering up the MC was so poorly done on his part, like what was he thinking talking sweet to her when another douchebag was already getting on her nerves? 😭 It wasn't even anything remotely nice, he literally talked about her as if she was an object. what is this shitshow of a man? 👹 I also like how you made his appearance give a hint of "I'm a mysterious guy" but he still turned out to be a douche. I feel like in most stories nowadays, the mysterious character is almost always flawless or perfect. They never get to fuck up.

I feel like you somehow always have beef with my male leads and idk if it's funny or if it's starting to make me sad AHAHAHA, Hongjoong was tryna do good but my mans was smoked out and also just...trying to help lmao. I didn't even intend to make him mysterious, but I'm certainly fine with it coming off like that. Our man, Hongjoong, is far from being perfect so it's good mister didn't get away with anything haha.

Oh, this shit got me fucked up. Lord knows I would've lost my job that night if a customer ever talked to me in that way. Matter of fact, I'd be put on a blacklist and be unemployed for the rest of my life because not only would I jump over the counter, but I'd beat the shit out of him until he wouldn't know the simplicity of the alphabet.

Lmao this sent me into a laughing fit cuz honestly...same, bestie, same. That man would've ended up with water tossed in his face minimum, and then would've come the hands throwing.

THE WAY I SCREAMED, LIKE FUUUUUCK!?!?!?!? WE GOT MULLET!JOONG CALLING ME A PRETTY BARISTA?????? THAT's ANOTHER THING — WE GOT MULLET JOONG BACK!!?! He can psycho analyze me all he wants baby- *GUNSHOT*

I guess this is how long your distaste for him lasted HAHA, I'm glad you'd rather have him [redacted] you than hate on him until the end of the drabble...wink wink

It's crazy how they haven't exchanged names until much later into the story :0 That's another thing that makes this story so real, their interactions aren't long enough for them to just stop and ask for each other's names, but they aren't that short to not have grown into some form of acquaintances.

tbh I haven't even thought about this, but them introducing each other later on felt more organic, so yup, you're right...they did grow into acquittances at last.

Is this said best friend perhaps Park Seonghwa? 👀

...maybe? 👀👀

The scene where Hongjoong and MC talk about their "dreams" /goals is so... nice and so real (again). How Hongjoong won't give his art to just anyone mirrors his irl personality too; how they value their works (songs and paintings) and just how much effort is put into it. We can clearly see the moment he "fell" in love with the MC. It wasn't the first night when she served him a Cosmopolitan or when she called him out on his bullshit, no that just caught his attention. The moment he knew MC was the possible one for him was when she saw him through his paintings. The MC subconsciously showed that she could see beyond Hongjoong's exterior and actually understand his soul. It's quite intimate, at least to me it felt like an intimate scene filled with a lot of emotions and to be frank, it's the best type of intimacy I've read in a while.

I hadn't even considered the fact that the Hongjoong in my story resembles the one irl, but I guess my subconscious is stronger since it worked without me even thinking of it ahahaha...but with that said, I'm glad I could make Hongjoong nuanced and true to his character, and he really did feel like he'd caught God's hand when the MC so easily saw through his art, seeing Hongjoong as he was and what he stood for. All in all...these two are a good pairing and I can assure you they have a happy future lined up in front of them ACK.

Thank you Minaa for reading and for possibly being my biggest supporter...? hehe, luv u lots<3

Through your colours

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: artist!Kim Hongjoong x barista!reader

੭ Warning: recreational drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, swearing ੭ Word count: 11k ੭ Rating: nc-17 ੭ Genre: fluff, angst-ish, slice of life, strangers to lovers, a hint of simp Joong? post university setting ੭ Summary: A broke barista and a broke artist meet in a student infested dingy pub, what do they have in common? The desire to make something great of themselves, to live a fulfilled life. But first impressions can go wrong, deterring people from each other. You're probably lucky that's not how your story with Hongjoong goes, though.

A/N: Hello, hello, my lovelies! I present you another story that was supposed to be a drabble but instead turned into...a smaller oneshot?? I consider anything that's below 15k a drabble because my oneshots just go over 20k all the time, save me! This idea came on a random whim while my pinterest suggested three photos lol, and it took me some time to write it, but it's here at last. Your feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you thought of this little story, and I hope you enjoy it! divider

            Gustav Klimt had once, sometime during the nineteenth century, stated that, “Art is a line around your thoughts”. This could be interpreted many ways, of course, but for an artist it was just as plain and simple as Mr Klimt had said. Whatever was on your mind, you could give it life by putting it on a piece of paper by the brush of ink and feather against the parchment, or by the swift twist of one’s wrist as their brush coloured their canvas. Art comes in many forms, many thoughts, and many interpretations. After all, everyone relates to it based by their own experiences, based on the emotions they feel and have felt before…and overall, their capacity of seeing beyond what’s shoved in front of their eyes. Maybe that’s why Hongjoong would stare at a painting or picture for hours on end without growing tired. He liked to see everything, he wanted to understand every stroke of brush, or why the lightning fell in that specific way on the item in the picture. Hongjoong wanted to feel the same emotions the author of the creation had felt while creating their piece. It helped him draw inspiration, expand his horizons towards new possibilities. Hongjoong liked new challenges as long as they were about his art. In life, he preferred the steady and sure lifestyle, the one that was predictable enough that it wouldn’t send him into an existential crisis over the smallest inconvenience.

Hongjoong needed order in his life since his art was all over the place, judged by many and often misunderstood. He didn’t paint just for the fun of it, sure, there were passion projects he started on a whim without much of a goal in mind, and usually those were well received by his professors, by his colleagues. But whenever Hongjoong wanted to say something through his art, he’d get scrutinized for it. He yet had to find that one person that saw beyond what others called a mess. He’s never thrived for attention or validation, but it had gotten lonely after a while when he realised nobody really understood him. He felt like he was the odd one even in a crowd full of odd people. He’d always been different, more open-minded and receptive to the changes in the world, and he’d always been judged for it. Here, instead of being frowned upon due to his character, he was sometimes ignored because his art was either dull or not good enough. Nobody seemed to understand that art is relative and subjective, that whatever lay on the canvas made by Hongjoong was his and would always be. That he had dipped his brush into a touch of colour from his soul, displaying it for the world to see on the once blank canvas. He became vulnerable for them and yet nobody had appreciated it yet. And so, Hongjoong got used to not being seen for his art, but for who he was.

Quirky with questionable fashion taste to many, bold because he wasn’t afraid to try out new styles—much like with his paintings—and intimidating because no matter how many times he tried out something new, he’d instantly make it his, owning whatever concept he had in mind. Hongjoong knew not everyone was against him out there, but it was easy to fall hostage to such thoughts when he was alone. It would make sense for an artist to have a mind clouded by questions and rarely answers, a mind that worked too fast and yet never good enough. Doubts and fears pulling one down, Hongjoong loved expressing it through his paintings, his hand nothing but a guide to the brush clutched tightly between his fingers, calling out to him even when he chose to step away. Hongjoong was in it for life, and he wondered whether the weeping willow tree by the river bank in his framed painting was a premonition for how his life would look like.

            The bar was busy like every other night in this student-infested town. It wasn’t even a surprise anymore, you should have known better than to wear your boots with high heels. There were no seconds to waste and even less time for breaks between preparing drinks, cleaning the bar, and running around the room to clean the tables too. Nobody wanted their hands sticky because someone had previously spilt their drink, and you were more than ready to clock out for the night. The only problem was, however, that you still had three hours left of your shift. You sighed as you averted your eyes from the clock, realising you hadn’t started preparing the drink the drunk college student had asked for on the other side of the bar. His eyes were glossy and he was swaying in his spot, you debated filling his cup with water rather than Vodka, but you couldn’t risk getting a complaint since your boss was a stinky little fucker. Your hands worked fast, and years spent doing this kind of work were showing as you did a few tricks, hoping you’d get a nice tip. You doubted the college guy would leave a huge tip, if anything at all, but at least you tried. It was all about trying in places like this one. Trying to stay calm when a customer was rude, trying to remain sane when night after night the DJ played the same playlist for the drunken students, trying to smile and hide the fact that you hated when these frat boys flirted with you. And also try and hide the fact that you were fed up with people, and needed at least a month away from civilisation.

But if one wanted to achieve something in life, one had to work for it to happen since it wouldn’t fall from the sky. Going abroad and starting a new life over there wasn’t for free, and it especially wouldn’t happen overnight. You were well aware of that, that’s why you were working day and night, taking up shifts that were probably too long to be healthy. But the dream you had in mind demanded such sacrifices, and if it meant working hard right now for a comfortable life in the future, you were willing to spend your nights sleepless and surrounded by annoying college students. You had been like them once, after all, but that was a few years ago, and since then, the harsh reality has awoken you. What was the purpose of a degree you couldn’t do anything with? Yeah, you could’ve laughed at yourself, but then it would soon turn into hysterical crying and you weren’t strong enough to deal with such emotions. You’ve cried enough, it was time you took action now. You sighed as another rush of bodies crowded the bar, asking for shots and long cocktails. You weren’t a fancy place by any means, but you served the usual sweet cocktails that could be found in every other place. Your hands worked fast as you catered to everyone’s likes, your coworker, Hanni, was somewhere lost between the students as she had gone to clean up the tables. And even in your rush, it seemed like you couldn’t satisfy everyone. It shouldn’t have phased you, but you’ve had a rough day today.

“Hey, babe, think you could work those hands faster, maybe?” You ignored the question and smiled as a group of girls paid for their pink cocktails, leaving a bigger tip than most men would. You felt grateful and felt your smile turn genuine when the tallest in the group winked at you before they became part of the rowdy crowd again. Then, you could face your impatient customer. He didn’t look like a student, way too old to be in a crowd filled with students, but who were you to judge? Some people go to college at a later age, maybe he wanted to get the full student experience. Although, you doubted a thirty-year-old had anything in common with young adults on the brink of maturing, if they managed to mature during their upper-level study days.

“What can I get for you?” Your voice was raised since the music was booming, and unfortunately, you also had to lean over the counter to hear the man better. For some reason, that made the man smirk as he leaned forward as well, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat. You ignored it as your teeth ground together, you’ve seen men like him before, he wasn’t the first to act like this and you knew he wouldn’t be the last one either.

“How about…you, sugar?” Your expression didn’t budge as his smirk became shit eating as if he had accomplished anything by saying that. You waited, without blinking or reacting to what he’s said, hoping he’d catch on that he wasn’t hilarious nor flirty.

“Don’t we all wish to have a piece of the pretty barista?” That managed to throw you off as your head whipped to the side, eyebrows furrowing as you just now noticed the newcomer. He was…well, something else for sure. He wore no casual or ordinary clothes, nothing you could compare to the annoying frat boys or just the other dudes with a regular fashion sense. His hair was dark but it looked a little fried, as if it had been bleached already one too many times before. His white blouse was loose and tucked in at the waist, his black pants wide and reaching below his ankles. A thick belt was secured around the guy’s petit waist, and if you looked harder, you swore you could see a dark blue bow tied to it. His brown vest seemed to elevate the outfit even more, the pleated brown choker sitting at the base of his throat with a few other silver chains, a ruby pendant hitting his pecks as he was leaning against the counter lazily. His hip was jutted out and his painted nails tapped against the side of his head, cat-like eyes blinking slowly as he watched you. The hat he wore looked something like you’ve only seen in Peaky Blinders, and for a second, you almost chuckled. He looked peculiar but not in a negative sense, it’s just that you haven’t seen someone like him stumble inside the pub before. He didn’t seem to belong with the crowd and that would’ve been something you’d appreciate on any other day than today.

“I don’t think we were talking to you, no?” The cocky man in front of you raised a mocking eyebrow at the other guy, and you rolled your eyes for a second. But before you could answer, the other guy did for you.

“You threatened my game is better than yours?” The artsy-looking guy asked with a chuckle, his tone was more on the higher side, and you found yourself not irked by it too much. But you weren’t here to have men measure their cocks by who can get the barista’s phone number faster, so you interrupted them before they could piss you off even more.

“Listen, fellas, I don’t have all night. What do you want?” Your tone was sharp, straight to the point, and shut down all attempts at flirting as the man in front of you scoffed, shooting a dirty look at the peculiar-looking one. You tilted your head as the older man finally faced you, trying to downplay his irritation as he plastered on a charming smile again. It made your jaw tick again, but you said nothing more.

“Do you have whiskey?” You were already reaching for the bottle of Whiskey before the man was finished talking, your other hand grabbing a glass as Hanni finally returned to the bar, her tray filled with dirty glasses.

“I’ll just wash these and come help.” She said as she passed by you and you nodded, filling the man’s glass with ice and whiskey, not too much but not too little either. Who even drinks Whiskey in a place like this one? But you didn’t care as long as he’d be out of your hair, so you placed the glass on the counter, but before you could tell the guy how much it was, he had already slid a bill on the counter, sauntering away. You grabbed it and pushed it into your fanny pack, taking a step back to take a deep breath. You could do this, Hanni was back and maybe you could ask her to cover for you for five minutes. A bathroom break was allowed at any time, after all. Your small moment, however, was interrupted by a scoff. You blinked your eyes open and looked towards where the sound came from, eyes narrowing when you realised the other guy was still lingering around.

“What a pig, he didn’t even tip you.” You had to agree with his slurred words but instead walked over with an impassive expression. You weren’t here to be nice or to make friends, and you never failed to make it clear to your customers. These entitled dudes thought they could get your number and get in your pants with just a few—fake—nice words, you could confidently say you hated them all and that they made you wish you never again encountered their species. But alas, that wouldn’t happen tonight, so you headed over to the pompous guy, raising an eyebrow. He was intriguing, you couldn’t deny that, but you also knew not to mingle with guys who frequented the pub. So, even if one sparked your interest, at the end of the day, you’d still walk home alone and relish in the quiet of your room.

“What can I get for you?” You tried to keep your tone level as your hip pressed into the counter, feet aching now even more. You were ready to chuck your damn boots at the wall and call it a night, but as Hanni flashed you her typical sweet smile, you knew you couldn’t leave her alone in the wolf's den. She was too sweet and too naïve, smiling and laughing along to the shitty jokes of the frat boys who were eyeing her up with little regard for the fact that she was visibly uncomfortable.

“Something sweet like you.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, telling yourself to keep your cool. He wasn’t saying anything offensive, unlike many other men, he just kept calling you sweet and pretty. That could be considered even nice, but not tonight.

“The menu is literally behind me, you can choose anything from it.” You pointed a finger behind yourself, where you knew the menu was hung high on the wall so that everyone could see it. The peculiar guy just gave you a look of confusion before looking past you, blinking his eyes lazily once again. You tapped your fingers against the counter, waiting for his choice, glad that you could take a breather now that nobody was crowding to get their drinks refilled. Hanni whizzed past you when she noticed a smaller group of girls approaching, her smile reaching her ears and already talking to them, beckoning them closer. Hanni was an excellent barista, she kept her customers entertained and always engaged with them…unlike you, but that’s why your duo worked so well. You were the stoic one and she was the sunshine, but you were both quick on your feet so your boss couldn’t complain.

“Uh, I’ll take a Cosmopolitan.” The guy finally decided and you quirked an eyebrow, grabbing the shaker.

“That’s not sweet.” It was unlike you to make conversation, but the words were on the tip of your tongue so you couldn’t ignore them. The guy chuckled, letting his elbows rest on the counter as he placed his chin in his palms. Your eyes raised for a second to look at him, and you were taken aback by how cute he looked. But as he blinked slowly again, a small smile spreading onto his lips as he watched you, you quickly focused your attention on his Cosmo.

“I know, I was just trying to make you feel better.” He sighed, tracing a manicured finger against the dirty counter. You had to clean that too. As you grabbed some olive to stash on a toothpick, you followed his finger with your eyes and noticed the two silver and shiny rings on his finger, his nail done a neon yellow with a black smiley face painted on top of it.

“What do you even know…” You scoffed to yourself, placing the martini glass on the counter for the guy to take. He was still looking at you, his eyes hazy, and you allowed yourself to take in his features. He had a petite and sharp nose, pretty and well-fitting with his sharp jawline and otherwise intimidating eyes if it wasn’t for the smile in them. His lips were more plump than thin with a pretty Cupid’s bow, slightly pouty as he gave you a small frown.

“Well, I bet you don’t plan on wasting your life away here.” The way he spoke had an airy feel to it, as if he wasn’t really thinking before speaking, “And by the looks of it, it seems as if your degree didn’t take you too far as of now, which is not a big deal, people change their minds all the time.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as the guy reached for his Cosmo, your fingers brushing together since you hadn’t retracted your hand yet. You ignored how warm his fingers felt, the softness of them as they lightly brushed against yours, “It’s just sad to see talented people waste their lives away in places like this one, you know? I mean, we all go to college to make something of ourselves, but then we end up in a dimly lit and smelly bar, selling alcohol to entitled pricks, forced to listen to their attempts at flirting, or them berating us for ‘not’ doing our job. Sure, it’s honest work, but at the end of the day, when you walk home after an ungodly long shift, you still hate yourself, so…”

Something in you broke at his last sentence, making you gulp hard. You still hate yourself, the guy had said with the most easy-going expression on his face, a slight smile pulling at his lips as he continued to blink lazily at you. What did he even know when he was clearly wearing designer clothes to a pub where alcohol could be spilt on you, among many other things? Who was he to assume you couldn’t do anything with your degree, rubbing it in your face that he knew people ended up like this when he clearly came from a rich background with all those accessories on him, his tone airy and almost mocking. Your jaw clenched again as you realised you had tears in your eyes, and your hand came down harshly on the counter as the guy slipped a bill towards you, way over the price of his damn Cosmopolitan.

“Go fuck yourself.” You snapped as you threw the change back at him, watching his expression fall, his eyebrows raising comically high. You didn’t sit around to listen to him trying to get your attention again, you brushed past Hanni and leaned down to tell her that you needed five minutes. She gave you a worried look before nodding, letting you head to the bathroom as a few tears spilt down your cheeks. Today was complete shit, you couldn’t wait to get home and ignore all the responsibilities and problems you had. You were doing this for a better future, this was just a small fragment of your life, and it wouldn’t last forever. At least you really hoped so.

            You released a long sigh as the cool air hit your face, eyes stinging from the sudden coldness as the red backdoor slammed shut behind you. Hanni and you kept telling your boss to change the hinges, but he had more important things to take care of, of course. Stepping aside so that the door wouldn’t slam into your back if any staff member decided to come outside at this moment, you leaned against the cold wall, pushing your hands into your pockets. You didn’t bother grabbing your jacket, although you should have given the fact that your skin was now covered in goosebumps, teeth slightly chattering. It was always a whiplash coming outside from that parched pub, having to forcefully push through the bodies too busy to notice your approaching form. It was another busy night, the weekend was approaching so the students were coming in waves that the pub could barely house. You’ve been telling your boss that you should put a capacity limit, but he wouldn’t make as much money like that as he was making now, so of course, he said no. He was a greedy monster and he didn’t even try to hide it.

Just as you closed your eyes, you heard a loud tsk followed by a hiss, and your head jerked to the side, your eyes widening. You hadn’t realised there was someone else here with you, too taken by your own thoughts of wondering what you’d cook for dinner…if you make it home at a decent hour, which was looking less and less likely to be. With your eyes narrowed and head turned, you tried to find the source where the sound had come from, eyebrows furrowing when you noticed someone crouched down right by the door, their head lowered over their knees. It wasn’t your business what anyone was doing, really, but if a client was feeling unwell and would need assistance, you’d feel guilty if you just walked away without a word. So, sighing to yourself, you pushed off the wall and took a few steps to approach the person, eyes taking in the black messy curls on the top of his head. The person had a baby mullet growing out, framing his pale nape. You cleared your throat and reached down, gently poking at the guy’s shoulder.

“Hey, you good?” You asked unsure, eyebrows furrowing when the guy grunted only. Tilting your head, you realised he was shielding his left hand, his right thumb trying to roll the sparkwheel of his lighter, but to no avail.

“Yeah, this bloody thing won’t work.” The guy groaned, shaking his lighter as he tilted his head back, a hand-rolled cigarette hanging between his lips. Your eyes widened as you realised the face was familiar, having seen him just yesterday. The guy’s eyes looked innocent as they rounded, recognition flashing in his too. You gulped and straightened up, your expression slightly hardening as the guy’s harsh words from yesterday rang through your ears. He seemed pretty fine to you, but before you could step aside and go back inside, he spoke up.

“Hi there, pretty barista.” He then grinned, a lazy pull of his cherry-red lips, his tone easy. You didn’t expect him to be so easy-going after what you had said to him, but it almost looked like the guy wasn’t bothered by you cursing him out…maybe he really wasn’t, “You on a break?”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, watching as he struggled to get his lighter to work. You had one in your pocket, but you found a bit of satisfaction in watching him struggle. Maybe if he asked whether you had one, you’d let him use yours. But people who didn’t ask wouldn’t get help, that’s what your father taught you, at least.

“Obviously.” You muttered matter of fact as the guy hummed, grinning wickedly when the lighter finally sparked to life, allowing him to light his cigarette. You watched as the flame danced in front of his face, making his dark eyes appear amber-like, sharper from this angle. You realised, alarmed, that you were appreciating his looks so you quickly stopped, looking away as the guy puffed out a whiff of smoke.

“You want some?” The guy asked, reaching his hand toward you as you eyed the cigarette, its smell hitting you. It was too herbal to be a normal cigarette, you belatedly realised as you watched the guy take another hit of his joint.

“What’s in it?” You decided to ask, just to make sure. If you were wrong and it was a regular cigarette, maybe you’d accept a smoke. You didn’t usually smoke but you were still tired from yesterday’s shift, and something that could loosen your nerves would be highly appreciated.

“Good stuff.” The guy grinned, giggling even a little, and the sound almost put a smile on your lips, but you caught yourself in time and instead shook your head, pushing your hands into your pockets again.

“I’m working, so, no.” The guy just hummed as he looked up at you again, taking a drag of his joint as you gulped and everted your eyes. It felt like he was gazing right through you and into your soul as your eyes had met, and given the fact that you were still butt-hurt over what he had said to you yesterday, you refused to look at him too long…you’d only admire his beauty, either way. He wore a fuzzy yellow and pink sweater today, his brown dress pants looking way too thin for this weather, but the guy didn’t seem to mind. His nails stood out with their unique design, and he wore fewer rings today but more earrings than yesterday.

“Hey, yesterday…what I said at the bar, I didn’t mean to berate you.” The guy gulped, his eyebrows furrowing as you looked back at him, slightly taken aback to see such sincerity on his face. You’ve never met someone so easily readable before, “My intention wasn’t to hurt you, I was smoked out too so I was just running my mouth, I do that when I’m high, sorry…”

A beat of silence passed as the two of you shared an apprehensive look, making you bite your bottom lip. You cleared your throat and at last averted your eyes, kicking a few pebbles towards the guy without meaning to, “Right, I shouldn’t have cursed you out either…I’m sorry too, I guess.”

The guy hummed, a smile slowly appearing on his lips before he took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes boring into yours again, “I’m glad the pretty barista doesn’t hate my guts anymore.”

You have no idea what took over you, but your cheeks were suddenly flushing as if you had been noticed by your crush for the first time, your skin prickling. You weren’t one to care about the compliments your clients gave since most of them were only trying to get in your pants, but this guy seemed to be genuine. He didn’t try to hit on you, he was just calling you pretty, and it was getting to you. You hummed and turned towards the door, hand reaching out for the knob when suddenly the guy spoke again, “Humans are easily susceptible, you know? We judge without knowing first, and we rarely apologise and recognise our mistakes. I hate people like that, rude people for no reason too. I don’t stand for all that bullshit, so I’m glad you told me to fuck myself instead of smiling at me like you do with all the other assholes. I appreciate your hard work, we all have to make due somehow and you aren’t less for working in this pub, pretty barista.”

There he was again, making your chest feel heavy as you huffed, a sarcastic smile pulling at your lips. Once again, what did he know about you? Maybe you loved this damned job, maybe being a barista in a shitty pub has been your lifelong dream. You almost scoffed at yourself, eyes narrowing as the guy took more drags of his joint, seemingly waiting for an answer that you didn’t exactly want to give. But you didn’t want him to have the last word, much like yesterday, so you plastered on a sarcastic smirk, “There you go again, blabbering your mouth when you’re smoked out.”

You didn’t expect the guy to start laughing loudly, his head falling back as it landed against the wall, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You didn’t mean to gape, but he was beautiful and painfully honest, it was refreshing in a world full of fakeness. He was an intriguing person, and you would’ve allowed yourself to become interested in him if only you had met in a different setting. With a hum and lingering eyes, you pushed the door open as the guy nodded at you in goodbye once he realised you were leaving for good. And with a faster beating heart, you willed yourself to focus on the few hours that you still had of your shift.

            It’s been quite a while since you had the chance to wake up at the crack of dawn without feeling tired, or without having to rush in for an early shift. Through hard work, you had earned these two days of break, and while you wished you had been given a full week, you made sure to utilise these two days wisely. You had always been an early bird, wishing to wake with the sun, opening your windows to hear the song of the birds, but it was too cold for them to hunker down in front of your window today. You didn’t mind, you’d take a stroll after your breakfast and check out the new art store that’s opened not too far from your apartment. You’ve heard great things about it, the prices seemed to be reasonable, and it had an adjoint bookstore and a coffee shop as well. A quick check on the internet showed you just how cozy it was, so you thought you could buy a book from your to read list and settle down in the coffee shop. It sounded like a great plan to destress and forget for a bit about work and all the idiots that kept you up at night, quite literally.

Your scarf was thick as you buried your nose into it, trying to keep it warm from the cold chill of the early morning. The city was awake with you, orange sun rising on the horizon and blinding you as you were walking towards it, you couldn’t help but smile. It warmed your cheeks and body, feeling the sun on your skin during cold season always felt like a blessing, you would always relish in it as much as you could because you knew it wouldn’t last for long. You exhaled as your eyes remained squinted, watching the people around you as you walked towards your destination. Kids were rushing to school, parents by their sides guiding them, and traffic was as crazy as ever, impatient drivers honking and disturbing the little peace everyone had. You paid it no mind and felt thankful that you were able to wake up so early instead of just going to bed, all tired and wishing for your boss to fire you. But if he did fire you, you would be in trouble, so you didn’t actually wish for that to happen. And suddenly as you turned the corner, the guy’s words from the bar managed to ring through your ears once again. Working at the pub was just as much of an honest job as it would’ve been working anywhere else.

You sighed, realising you were thinking about him again. You’ve been doing this a lot lately, letting your mind wander to his peculiar fashion sense and even more peculiar way of thinking. He seemed almost raw with his words and thoughts, unafraid to say them to your face. It was refreshing and intriguing, but you couldn’t let yourself be sidetracked right now. You had a purpose, and that was working until you had enough money to move away. If somehow a guy came into the picture right now, you felt like that would mess up all your plans and vision of the future. Under no circumstance would you stay here, but you knew your heart would betray you and try to keep you here for longer, with your lover. You didn’t even want to think of the guy as a potential love interest, you didn’t even know each other, so you shoved these thoughts to the back of your mind as you reached the art store, eyes widening at its exterior.

You haven’t seen anything quite like it before, the windows reached from ceiling to floor, a clear view of what was going on inside. There was a spiral staircase that led to the higher level which was littered with bookcases and low hanging retro chandeliers, bean bags spaced out on the floor as people sat around with books in their hands. To the right was the coffee shop with a separate entrance if you were only here for coffee, but you could also enter through the art store. And the art store was gorgeous as you made your way inside, the double doors opening easily. A sweet scent hit your nostrils as you walked further inside, your eyes wide as you took in the whole place. Paintings were hung on the walls, blank canvas placed underneath as many shelves housed all kinds of art supplies. The clerks were all smiley and they welcomed you warmly once they noticed your arrival. Maybe you could find a nicer workplace, something like this one. The workload seemed less strenuous and the people that came here to shop were less rowdy and rude. As much as you loved admiring the fine arts, you didn’t have the talent for drawing or painting, you could mess up even something as simple as a cloud. It was embarrassing, but arts have never been your forte, so you headed for the staircase to look for the book you had on your mind.

Navigating around the many shelves seemed a bit intimidating at first, but then you noticed they were sectioned on different genres, the tags hanging low from the ceiling with an arrow pointing towards the section to help you out. You smiled to yourself as you unrolled your scarf from around your neck, the warmth of the store helping your frozen fingers as you turned down a corner, two tall bookshelves on your sides. At the end of the row sat a younger girl with a manga in her hand, another one pressed to her lips as she seemed to be giggling. You felt yourself smile as you came near her, looking at the titles of the books. Asking for a clerk to help you find the book you were looking for would’ve helped enormously, but you found yourself wanting to stroll around in the warmth, fingers grazing the spines of the books. The girl giggled just a bit louder and blushed when you glanced her way. This wasn’t a library, so she wasn’t disturbing anyone, but she was still mindful of those around her. You turned the corner once again, finding the High Fantasy section, having made your research beforehand, you knew you were in the right place. It took a bit more cruising down the row to finally find the book you were looking for, and you grinned when you found it, taking it off the shelf.

You thought about strolling around the store more just to discover it further, maybe they had cheap trinkets you could buy. You even thought about paying a visit the coffee shop as well, maybe they had one of your favourite patisserie delicacies. You wouldn’t turn down something sweet right now, you didn’t have a sweet tooth necessarily, but there were days when your cravings got the better of you. With that in mind, you headed back the way you had come, sneaking another glance at the younger girl as she gasped, manga now clutched tightly in both of her hands. You chuckled before you rounded the corner, now back on the main aisle that led to the spiral staircase. You noticed that most people who were inside the store looked to be college students, their outfits mismatched colours and patterns, hair coloured something vibrant as most of them had piercings you never even thought possible before. You really liked their style and found yourself staring at them, blushing when a girl caught you and raised an eyebrow before she smiled. You nodded your head and hurried down the stairs, flustered and a little embarrassed. They oddly reminded you of the guy from the bar, you thought he’d somehow fit right in with the people inside the store. It looked something he’d enjoy, not that you knew anything about him besides that he smoked weed, wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, and had a nice sense of fashion.

You were looking at the hard cover of your book as you got to the base of the staircase, taken by the pretty illustration and completely unaware that someone was headed straight towards you, just as taken by items in his hands as you were by your book. The collision could’ve been avoided if you both had been paying attention to where you were going, but alas, you gasped loudly as you felt a hard body collide into yours, items spilling loudly onto the floor. Your head shoot up, eyes wide as you looked at the equally startled man and—wait, it was the same guy from the bar! You gulped, suddenly feeling nervous as your cheeks burned, but the guy hadn’t noticed you yet as he had crouched down to collect his items off the floor. You felt bad and hoped the expensive palette on the ground hadn’t been broken, so you crouched down too and reached for it to inspect it. The guy still hadn’t quite noticed that it was you out of all people, but as you reached for the same brush, his head raised sharply. Your smile was apologetic as the guy’s eyes widened, recognition flashing on his face. This was the third time you met this week, the sheer coincidence of meeting outside the pub was a bit jarring…especially since you’ve been just thinking about him.

“Pretty barista from the pub!” He motioned towards you then chuckled, letting you pick up the brush. Your book was placed on the ground next to you so your hands were free to help.

“Hi,” Your voice came out a lot shier than you had intended it to be, and you chewed on your bottom lip awkwardly, “Sorry about this, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Don’t worry,” The guy chuckled, scooping up the small canvases, “I wasn’t either. If it makes you feel better, it was both of our faults.”

You hummed and grabbed the last item off the floor, standing at the same time as the guy. His arms were filled with his items, and you wondered if you handed over the four in your hands how he’d be able to carry everything. Despite the cold weather outside, he was underdressed. He wore a simple turtleneck with a brown knitted vest over it, long flowy plants and mismatched tennis shoes. As you both stepped aside from the staircase to make way for others, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes once you realised you were staring again. But you hadn’t seen him wearing glasses before, and with the curly strands falling over his forehead, he didn’t only look handsome but cute as well.

“What brings you here?” The guy made conversation as you tried to figure out how to hand him his items without making him drop them all again, “I say this without meaning to be rude, but you seem like the last person who’d be interested in art.”

You huffed, not bothered by his honesty, “While that statement is incorrect, I’m not here due to the art section of the store. I was looking for a book.”

“Right!” He exclaimed, glancing down at his own chest, “Oh, sorry, you can hand me those, I can carry them!”

“Are you sure?” You asked as he nodded enthusiastically, so you complied. You stepped closer to place the other four items in his arms, watching as he clinched the smaller canvas underneath his chin to keep it from falling. You would’ve laughed and offered to help until he got himself a bag or something, but the guy looked pretty content like this. Like it wasn’t his first time doing this…

“Are you collecting them?” The guy’s incomplete question left you raising a confused eyebrow at him, “Sorry, I saw you’re buying The Hobbit. It’s a pretty famous reprint, the covers are gorgeous, my best friend is collecting them so I assumed you are too.”

You glanced down at the book in your hand and bit your bottom lip, trying to brush off your embarrassment. Why were you feeling like this all of a sudden? It made no sense, but you didn’t want to leave a bad impression on the guy…even though his perception of you might already be fucked since this wasn’t your first time meeting.

“I’ve, uh, so, uhm, I have a to read list for books I’ve never read while growing up, so now I have a little tradition that I buy a book from the list each month and read it.” You spoke quickly, avoiding eye contact as the guy listened to your ramble. His intake of breath was sharp and you chanced a glance at his face, finding his eyes wide and his mouth rounded.

“Wait. Are you saying you haven’t read The Hobbit before?!” He sounded incredulous and alarmed, and your cheeks grew hot once again, actually managing to sour your mood a bit. Not having read the book didn’t make you less by any means, but you had a feeling this guy was well-versed in literature, so it felt like a jab and even a subtle scrutinising.

“Yeah, not everyone likes reading while growing up…” Your tone grew cold and voice snappish as you continued to avoid eye contact, looking towards the front desk so that maybe the guy would get the hint that you were done with this conversation. But it didn’t actually surprise you that he continued speaking without noticing you didn’t want to keep conversing anymore.

“That’s totally cool, my brother hated comic books growing up and now he’s obsessed with them.” The guy chuckled, expression innocent and tone genuinely excited, “I think you’ll love the book, it’s filled with adventure and otherworldly creatures. It’s a nice step back from our grim reality, I feel like you need that right now.”

Okay, there he was assuming again that he could just…psychoanalyse you or whatever, “Can you stop doing that? I’m not a painting you can interpret to your liking.”

The guy blinked, face going blank before his cheeks flushed, his gaze averted now from yours, “I…have I been doing it all this time?”

“Ever since we’ve met.” Your answer was sharp and quick and the guy blushed even more.

“Oh, sorry, I just…I’ll stop doing that,” Then he smiled awkwardly and held eye contact with you, “I’m Hongjoong, by the way, I don’t remember introducing myself.”

Because he hadn’t. You repeated his name in your head, finding yourself liking the sound of it, it seemed like a fitting name for him. You hummed, extending your hand.

“I’m Y/N.” But you and Hongjoong glanced down at your extended hand and then his occupied ones at the same time, chuckles leaving your mouths as he seemed flustered.

“I’m shake your hand the next time we see other.”

“If there will be a next time.”

“I quite like the pub you work at, pretty barista.” You cleared your throat and avoided looking at him because as corny as it was, it kind of made your heart flutter. What was happening? The chiming of the doorbell reminded you that it was time you left and took care of other errands you had in your schedule, but before you could say goodbye to Hongjoong, he asked a question that took you off guard, “Wanna grab a cup of coffee with me?”

Then he turned sideways, nodding towards the adjoined café, and you hesitated for a second. You could actually slip in a little time to have coffee with him, but you felt reluctant. You had met him at the pub, after all, and you still couldn’t decide what type of person he was. Of course, he was handsome, and so far, has showed a good character, but there were little moments when he somehow managed to ruin everything with his words. And he was still a complete stranger, so, listening to your rational mind, you slowly shook your head.

“I don’t like coffee, but thanks!” Your smile was easy, Hongjoong’s face morphed into something knowing as he hummed with a nod.

“Sure, I’m glad I caught you here.” Then, as you were about to take off, he added, “The pretty barista now has a name, I can say my morning was successful.”

You tried to huff and look irked, but the blush betrayed you. You just shook your head before heading for the front desk, “Goodbye, Hongjoong.”

“See ya!” His smile was radiant as he turned around and headed for the café instead, and you realised he was underdressed because he had come from the coffee shop, his things already there. And with Hongjoong on your mind, you followed his distinctive walk as he sauntered over to his table with an elegancy yet swagger you hadn’t seen before.

            Now, a week ago you probably would have said no to a preposition that involved you following home a complete stranger whose name you had known for a maximum of four days, but tonight had been literal shit and you were on the verge of tears when Hongjoong had sauntered over to the bar, his Chesire like smile blinding. You had one more hour left of your shift and you’d be clocking out, not even staying behind to help Hani clean up. Your cramps were terrible and a guy who hit on you for the whole night had spilt his drink on your favourite blouse, calling you a bitch as well for shunning him away, so, when you saw Hongjoong approach the bar with mischief in his eyes, you were ready to scream at him and tell him to get lost. Except that you didn’t do all that because his question completely threw you off guard.

“Y/N, do you like art?” He had a rolled-up joint resting at his ear, his hair pulled to the side and clipped back with colourful hair clips. Your laugh that bubbled past your lips sounded incredulous and tired, but you nodded.

“I do, do you want something to drink?” Hongjoong shook his head, leaning across the bar despite it being wet from spilt alcohol.

“When does your shift end?”

“In an hour.”

“Wanna see some of my art?” Then Hongjoong grinned, looking proud of himself, “I’m a painter.”

Something came over you and didn’t even let you ponder over your decision, “Do you have weed?”

The answer was obvious as you glanced at the joint and Hongjoong laughed, tilting his head in a way that sharpened his features under the neon lights of the pub.

“Obviously, got some on me right now. Want some?” Not while you were working, afterwards, however, you were free to do whatever.

“After my shift, yeah.”

“Cool, I’ll meet you in the back. See ya.”

And that’s how you ended up at Hongjoong’s apartment, not even ten minutes away from the pub. Your feet ached and your cramps were so bad you felt like doubling over and emptying your already empty stomach, but you tried to hold yourself together in front of Hongjoong. There was a nervous flutter in your chest as you had followed him up the steel staircase, the building old and dodgy. However, the second you walked inside his studio apartment, it felt like you had entered a different realm. He was the true definition of an artist, you came to realise, with canvas strewn around the apartment, most finished but some blank, oil paint tainting the wooden floor and even the walls. The colours were neutral, beige with a slip of sage green here and there, the curtains sheer and pulled to the side as Hongjoong hurried over to the windows to push them open. There was an earthy smell in the air mixed with something sweet like vanilla, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the cosiness of Hongjoong’s studio. You recognised a few prints on the walls, they were the paintings of well-known painters who no longer lived, and the décor Hongjoong had used was rather vintage than modern. His huge wardrobe was open, and he pushed the door closed with little care as he picked up a hoodie off the floor. You were surprised he even owned one of those.

You flinched when it collided against your head, confused as to why he had thrown it at you. Hongjoong chuckled as he shrugged his coat off, trying to tidy his messy bed but quickly giving up when he realised you didn’t look like you cared. Truthfully, your apartment wasn’t in a better shape, the dishes in the sink had been there for three days and your bathroom was in dire need of a deep clean.

“We can’t smoke weed with closed windows, so it’ll get colder.” Hongjoong suddenly explained, shrugging on a cardigan that looked very soft, “Wear my hoodie, it’ll keep you warm.”

You hummed, glancing down at it before you stepped out of your shoes, shrugging your jacket off and wearing the hoodie. Its scent was sweet but potent with something musky, and you blushed as your nose buried into its fabric, drinking in its soft material.

“Make yourself feel at home!” Hongjoong grinned, walking over to the small kitchen section to grab two cups, “Do you want tea?”

You shook your head as you walked towards the small bean bag, pushing it with your leg to try and get it more gathered together. And then, just as you were about to sink into the chair, you heard a faint sound come from the kitchen. You turned your head and were met with a small black creature blinking at you in wonder.

“You have a cat?” You asked in surprise, staring back at the little pet. Hongjoong chuckled, looking down at his pet as the electric kettle started whistling.

“Is it so surprising? I found him near a dumpster a few years ago, he’s been by my side ever since.” You couldn’t help but gaze at Hongjoong with admiration as he spoke, pouring hot water into his cup for the tea, “His name is Woo ‘cuz he reminds me of my friend. They are both rascals and really loud.”

As if on cue, the cat meowed loudly and you chuckled, finally easing yourself into the bean bag. Your lower back protested and your spine cracked as you allowed yourself to lean back, arching your back. You could’ve cried at the relief, thankful to finally be off your feet. You couldn’t wait for the weed, it would dull your cramps and help you ease up after the day you’ve had. You were probably in dire need of a shower since you smelled like alcohol, but you didn’t feel comfortable showering at a guy’s place you barely knew. Which, now that you thought more about it, realisation started setting in. You weren’t too smart for following Hongjoong home, but he had never creeped you out, so you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt tonight. You stared at the cat as Hongjoong mixed honey into his berry-flavoured tea, the warm mist hogging up his glasses. The cat, still at Hongjoong’s side, stared back at you and then slowly walked towards you, its head tilted in wonder. You smiled at it and let it smell your fingers, taking you off guard when it unceremoniously climbed into your lap, starting to make biscuits against your lower abdomen.

“Ah, of course, you’re already in the lap of the pretty barista.” Hongjoong mused with an amused smile on his lips, “You take after Wooyoung more than one would think.”

You had no idea who this Wooyoung guy was, but it sounded like he was a flirt if Hongjoong wasn’t bluffing.

“I like your apartment,” You blurted out as you started petting the cat, smiling down at it when it started purring, “It’s got character, much like you.”

“That’s the first time you said something completely honest to me.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at Hongjoong, the joint from his ear now gone as he grabbed some matches to light it up. You didn’t think that was true, but you didn’t say anything as Hongjoong came nearer, sitting down on the floor across from you. You looked at him as he took a long whiff of his joint, then extended his arm for you to take the weed. It’s been quite a while since you smoked any, you knew it would hit you faster, but you hoped it wasn’t too strong or you’d become sick. You took a careful drag of it as Woo settled into a slumber in your lap, and the earthy taste of it made you grimace. But you kept the smoke in your lungs for a bit before exhaling, taking another drag as Hongjoong watched you with a lazy smile. He looked so…handsome. You’ve had a few days to yourself to think about Hongjoong after your encounter in the art store, and you realised you were attracted to him. It was mostly physical since you liked his looks, but his brutally honest character also had you intrigued even if you’d get offended at times by what he was saying.

“I find it hilarious that you decided to come home with me after you declined to have coffee.” Your eyes met Hongjoong’s quickly just as you were about to hand over the joint, “Do you really don’t drink coffee? Or did you just want to get rid of me that day?”

“I…” You licked your lips as Hongjoong took the joint from you, grinning as he took a long drag once again, “Both, actually. I just…I don’t know you well enough and we’ve also met at the pub, I don’t like meddling with clients. Those frat boys are horny and only want to sleep with me.”

“Good thing I’m not a frat boy then, right, Woo?” Hongjoong grinned and ruffled the slumbering cat’s fur, looking back at you with an understanding look, “I’ll be done with my master’s degree in just a few months.”

You hummed, picking at the sleeve of Hongjoong’s hoodie before you saw the joint handed to you again, “And after that? What do you plan on doing?”

Suddenly, Hongjoong had a pensive look on his face as he leaned back on his arms, staring up at the ceiling. You took shorter drags of the joint now but kept the smoke in your lungs until it started burning.

“I want to travel the world, visit art galleries and drink a lot of expensive wine.” That didn’t sound bad at all, Hongjoong continued before you could tell him, “It’s hard breaking into the industry as a painter even though some realtors have already approached me to buy my paintings and put them on display.”

“And? What did you say to them?” You felt genuinely curious, the cat sighed loudly in your lap and Hongjoong looked at you two, reaching out for the joint. Your fingertips brushed together and Hongjoong’s hands felt too cold, but you didn’t comment on it.

“I turned them down,” Hongjoong smiled, but it looked almost sad before he shrugged, taking a drag, “I don’t want just anyone owning my creations. I want someone who understands what’s on that canvas to contact me, I want someone who genuinely loves art and isn’t just doing it for the money. It’s hard to find people like that nowadays, but I’m willing to wait as long as it takes…even if that makes me broke.”

Hongjoong scoffed out a chuckle, sounding bitter by the end of his sentence. For someone who was so good at reading others and commenting on their lives, Hongjoong seemed to be having his own demons he had to fight. You hummed, closing your eyes for a second as you felt your muscles ease up, your cramps less torturous. You were glad the weed was slowly kicking in, your cramps would’ve had you crying if not.

“So how do you plan on travelling if you have no money?” Maybe the question was insensitive, but you were curious. Hongjoong didn’t take offence as he smiled, looking at you with sparkling eyes.

“There are art courses all around the world, I might sign up for one and leave, never look back…”

“Do you hate it here?” The question tumbled past your lips before you could stop yourself, “Because I don’t.”

Hongjoong didn’t look surprised as he nodded, handing back the joint so you could finish it. Three drags and it would be gone, so you took your time savouring it.

“It’s not the worst, but I don’t see much of a future for myself here.” So, Hongjoong was just like you then, “When are you leaving?”

“How did you know?” You sounded shocked as Hongjoong shrugged, averting his eyes.

“You and I are rather similar, you just fail to see it, Y/N.” Well, maybe he was right, maybe he wasn’t. You couldn’t read Hongjoong as well as he could read you, you needed more time to feel out his character.

“Six months and I’m out of here, never to come back if life’s kind to me.” Your voice was quiet as you didn’t look at Hongjoong, smoke wafting through your lips as you finished the joint. Hongjoong hummed, a low and warm sound, as he reached for the stud to take it from you. Your fingers brushed together once again, and you looked at Hongjoong when he held your wrist.

“You’re stronger than you think, you’ll make it big out there, Y/N, have more faith in yourself.” You found yourself smiling now, head a little hazy as you nodded, finding it easier to believe whatever Hongjoong told you.

“You’re the artist between the two of us, you’re the one supposed to make it big.” Hongjoong chuckled and stood, headed for the kitchen.

“Can’t we both make it big?” He raised an eyebrow as he threw the stud away, turning around to face you. You hummed, not entirely agreeing with him, but you decided to nod. Then, Hongjoong turned towards where his bed was and grinned, “You’re here to see some art, no?”

“Right, I almost forgot about that.” Hongjoong chuckled, then beckoned you over. You grabbed the cat in your lap and pressed a kiss against its small head, placing it on the bean bag in your spot. Your feet felt light as you headed towards Hongjoong, who had sauntered over to the desk pressed up against the wall underneath the open windows. He turned the small lamp on, and suddenly you were looking at small canvases filled with colour and abstract shapes. Somehow they looked like an organised mess, even in the overflowing swirl of colours, you managed to find a pattern that seemed to never end like a loop. You turned your head to look at Hongjoong, and suddenly you realised his art was a perfect reflection of who he was.

“I can tell you made these.” Perhaps phrasing it like that was offensive, but Hongjoong only looked curious. He hummed, raising an eyebrow.

“How come?” His voice was quiet, curious.

“I can see you in these.” You pointed at the canvas with orange and yellow as the more prominent colours, circling a deep blue that looked almost black, “The blue is you at your core, dark and perhaps scared of the world. And then all that orange and yellow? I think that’s how you see the world, how you wish it treated you, hoping it would lighten all that darkness that looms over you all the time. And this one? I wonder if it was a coincidence you hid so many infinity symbols in the background, this burgundy is gorgeous, by the way. I think everyone is afraid of disappearing without leaving a trace of themselves in this fucked up world, and I actually…I admire you for being so honest and straightforward, very few people are like you.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows were furrowed the longer you spoke, but he remained silent as you smiled, looking down at the white canvas, unfinished but with light blue swirls creating the illusion of a clear sky, “I wonder what this will turn into. So far, it reminds me of serenity, of the calm before a storm. Life’s like that too, don’t you think? It’s quiet and gentle, and then it turns into a scary thing that can destroy us if we let it.”

Hongjoong just gulped, his eyes clouded but his heart racing. He was positive no one had been able to interpret his art for what it was before, and he wondered how much of him you could see through his eyes if you could read so well what the trail of his brush had left on a blank canvas. It made him feel seen like never before, not even his biggest supporter, Wooyoung, could see beyond Hongjoong’s intentions when he sat down to paint, to tell the world his pain and rage, yearning for someone to just finally see him.

“You’re…” Hongjoong gulped, his throat feeling dry as you smiled at him, curious if you’d been right, “You are a person I should cherish more from now on.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, your heart skipping a beat once again. What did he mean by saying that? You wanted to ask, but Hongjoong stepped closer, his tone breathy as he spoke up again, “‘Whoever wants to know something about me – as an artist which alone is significant – they should look attentively at my pictures and there seek to recognize what I am and what I want’…that’s what Gustav Klimt once said. And so far, you are the only person who’s managed to do that.”

Your mouth gaped open, and you both heard Woo stretch and meow loudly, his soft footsteps loud as he walked towards Hongjoong’s bed, jumping up and finding a new spot to sleep. You didn’t know what to say back to that, but you felt your heart race as your cheeks flushed, shy all of a sudden. Hongjoong was looking at you with a softness no man has looked at you with, it was a bit hard to take it all in without freaking yourself out that this wasn’t real, that it was just the weed, or that maybe Hongjoong wasn’t as genuine as his expression showed.

“Y/N,” You didn’t flinch when his hand wrapped around your wrist, his tone still soft, “I think you already know that I find you pretty, and I…I might have gone to that dingy pub for so long just to see you, actually.”

Those words had your heart racing even wilder as you looked up, finding Hongjoong’s face closer to yours as his eyes now bore into yours, “I should’ve been more specific when I asked you to have coffee with me. I meant to ask you out on a date, but I panicked because I knew I had slightly upset you, but…”

He gulped nervously and you felt so curious to hear what more he had to say, perhaps a smile would encourage him, so that’s what you did, offered him a small friendly smile. He released a breath and cleared his throat, his hand slipping from your wrist to your hand, “Can I kiss you?”

If this was anyone else but Hongjoong, your answer would have been an instant no. But the longer you looked into his eyes, the more excited and giddy you felt, so you just nodded your head and licked your lips, trying to ignore the deep flush of your cheeks. Hongjoong chuckled, suddenly looking shy, but he started leaning in, his eyes fluttering closed just as your lips met. It was careful, it was sweet and it made your heart roar as you stepped just a bit closer, your noses brushing together as your lips moved slowly and carefully, mostly just testing out the waters. Hongjoong’s lips were soft and sweet, and surprisingly didn’t taste like weed but like peaches. You wondered if he used any sort of lip balm to have them taste like that. His hand settled on your cheek and he gently caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, making your heart roar once again. It’s been long since someone had treated you with such gentleness, and you told yourself to remain level-headed, but it would be just so easy to fall in love with Hongjoong. You couldn’t help but smile as you two pulled apart, Hongjoong tried to hide his own grin as he sucked his lips together, but his eyes gave him away. You chuckled and he giggled, and suddenly you felt the urge to pull him into a hug.

“So,” He cleared his throat as he let his arms rest around your torso loosely, “If you don’t like coffee, what do you like?”

“Delicious cakes.” You didn’t hesitate to answer and Hongjoong chuckled, patting your head.

“Well then, would you like to go on a delicious cake-hunting date with me?” You closed your eyes to contain your excitement, but the weed had not only eased your muscles but your always worrying mind as well.

“Yes!” You didn’t mean to squeal, but it was hard not to when Hongjoong startled giggling sweetly once again, nodding his head.

“Good, I’ll make sure we find the best spots in the city then.”

And perhaps not just in the city, but also in foreign countries while you attended Hongjoong’s art expositions, an expensive bottle of wine waiting for the two of you back at the hotel.

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[rubyvhs]

show me love [ dean w. ]

SUMMARY . you and dean’s friendship (of both platonic and sexual nature) falls apart when his father goes missing TAGS . 0.7k words, cliffhanger, all texting, heavy angst LAILA’S NOTES . y’all I’d apologize but this is the first thing i’ve written in years so if anything we should be happy.

February 2003

Dean: Hey, sweetheart.

Still in Georgia?

You: Yeah, why? Are you thinking of passing by?

Dean: Something like that. 

I’ll be there in two days, maybe. 

You: That sounds great, D. Text me when you’re here.

+

August 2003

Dean: Look outside. 

You: You’re a real piece of work, you know that? 

Rocks at my windows was sexy a century ago.

Dean: Still worked though, didn’t it?

You: Yeah, asshole, I’m awake at three in the morning.

Dean: Does that mean you’re not gonna open the door?

You: Fuck you. I’m getting dressed.

Dean: No point, gonna take it all off anyway.

+

You: You left suddenly, didn’t know I was a one night stand, asshole.

Dean: Sorry, sweetheart, Sam called and I didn’t wanna wake you up. We can grab something to eat tonight, how’s that?

You: Is that a promise you actually plan on keeping?

Dean: Swear on my life.

You: I’ve seen it, ain't much to swear by.

Dean: Ouch.

You: Miss you, pick me up at seven.

Dean: See ya then, baby.

+

June 2005

Dean: Hey

You: Hi, D. Been a while.

Dean: Yeah, I’m sorry

You: It’s okay, I never expect much from us anyway. What’s up?

Dean: Do you think I’m a bad person?

You: No. Why would you say that?

Dean: I’m gonna ask Sam to come back, I can’t find dad.

You: Why didn’t you tell me? And it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. I mean, I would advise against it, Sam deserves a good life and you know that, but the fact that you’re asking before doing it says everything I need to know.

Dean: What does it say?

You: That you have a pure heart, D. Don’t ever doubt it, okay? 

But also incase you were actually thinking of it, please don’t go get Sam. He’s out, he’s finally out of the life, Dean.

I text him every week and he’s happy and in love, don’t do it.

Dean: I’m sorry.

You: Answer the phone.

Dean answer me.

Stop ignoring my calls

You suck

You: You’re still not a bad person.

+

August 2005

You: I will never forgive you.

Ever.

Dean: I didn’t know you’d be here.

You: Fuck you. You disappeared on me for months and stop answering my calls you fucking asshole and then I try talking to you and you walk away in front of everyone.

Do you understand how fucking humiliating that was for me? My sister’s asking if I’m okay, that’s how bad it is.

Dean: I’m sorry.

You: You’ve never once meant that, Dean. 

Not fucking once.

You’re a dick.

And one day, you’re the one who’s gonna regret it, not me.

+

September 2005

Dean: Hunted a Djinn today.

Wanna know what my perfect life looked like? 

You: Oh now you wanna talk?

Real nice of you.

Dean: You know what it was

You: And yet I don’t care

Don’t text me again

Dean: You would’ve blocked me if you meant it.

It was you, sweetheart.

You: Good night, Dean. 

Dean: Night.

+

Sam: Hey, darling.

You: Sam!!!!!!!

I’ve missed you endlessly 

Literally haven’t seen you in ages

Sam: Yeah, sorry about that.

Dean told me that he met you at the gathering.

You: Yeah why weren’t you there?

Sam: Just didn’t feel like it.

But I do miss seeing you, send me your location?

You: Virginia, what about you?

Sam: Close. About a day out.

You: You don’t have to, we can meet up when we’re closer.

Sam: Ah, so you don’t wanna see me?

You: No no no I do, just don’t bring Dean.

Please, Sammy.

Sam: Sorry, sweetheart but if I drive him around then I get to go wherever he does.

You: Dean?

Sam: Yeah, Sam’s in the bathroom. We’re on our way.

You: Don’t text me.

Sam: Heard that threat before.

Sam: Hey, sorry, I didn’t know he would do that.

You: I’m wrapping up my hunt, won’t be in Virginia when you get here.

Sam: No no, please.

You: Sorry.

+

January 2006

Sam: Hey.

You: Hi.

Sam: Dean’s dying.

You: What are you talking about?

Sam, answer the phone.

Sam the last thing I told him is to not talk to me please answer the phone

Sam: We’re at Bobby’s.

You: I’m on my way.

[cherrycheolkat]

• random slutty thoughts - seungcheol •

seungcheol is a patient person - he knows you are trying to goad him into doing something and he doesn’t like it

the library is normally seungcheol’s sanctuary - it’s quiet - none of his roommates seem to know it exists - it’s his space

his only problem is you showing up and invading his space

there is literally every other place to sit, but do you sit in one of these other places? no. no, you sit directly across from him

even with a divider, he can hear every little sound you make

all the little sighs and random giggles are one thing, but when your foot bumps his repeatedly - he is sure he’s going to lose his fucking mind because why don’t you seem to know you’re annoying

in fact, he’s certain you’re the least self aware person to exist - personal space, what’s that for you anyway

but this is too much!

he’s had a rough day - back-to-back difficult classes - he’s gotten a snack and he just wants to stare at his computer and play games for like an hour without being bothered

but you are in his seat - you and your hair that smells really good (he had a class with you last semester, even sitting behind you was kind of annoying, but the impossible-to-name scent of your shampoo was something he did actually like)

he thinks of sitting elsewhere - but no, this is personal because you have to know what you’re doing

he approaches, huffy and pouty

he sees your screen and pauses - of course you’re playing the same game, but you still took his seat

when he taps your shoulder, you yelp and look back, face flushed

“what?!” your eyes are huge

he rolls his eyes, “you’re in my seat,” isn’t it obvious, he wants to add

you glance around and seem to realize, “oh - aren’t they all the same?”

he stares in disbelief, “no, they aren’t,” his voice is sharp

you sigh, “okay, princess, have your seat then,” you huff as you get up and collect your things

he doesn’t care for the remark, or the way it sticks in his brain like an earwig because really ‘princess’ was uncalled for

and when he happens to see you out the following night, you actually stop to talk to him

you smile cutely, “so princess, how’s the gameplay for you?”

he glares, he knows you just want to fluster him, “it’s fine,” he says coolly

but you’re not finished, you keep asking him questions - what kind of gameplay does he like - is he part of a guild

it’s only after you leave to get a drink that he realizes how long you’ve been talking to him - he wonders if you’ll come back or not

when you do reappear, you seem to be walking towards him, but you stop when another guy approaches

he decides he should go home anyway and starts to leave, tossing his cup in the bin as he heads for the door

he’s surprised when he feels someone pinch his ass and whips around

you’re standing there, staring, “who said you could leave? we haven’t even swapped game ids,” you pout

“did you just grab my ass?”

you nod, “yeah, it’s just so,” you sigh, “i just want to touch it, okay?”

he flushes slightly, “you have no understanding of personal space,” he tried to sound like he had some high ground to stand on

you laugh, “says the guy who played with my hair when he sat behind me!”

it was like he had been slapped, “that”— “i never!” he fumbled his reply

you are suddenly very close, “yes, you definitely did and i didn’t say anything because i thought it was kind of cute,” your lips brush his cheek

he swallows roughly, his mouth feeling dry

he feels your hand on his, the way you guide his hand between both of your bodies, then lower, he feels your hip, your low stomach - you keep pressing his hand lower, until his hand is between your legs, feeling the thin fabric of your shorts

he glances around quickly, sure that someone will see

“everyone is busy, princess, don’t look so worried,” he feels your hips press closer to his

he knows you absolutely don’t care that you’re surrounded by other people

he reflexively squeezes you, hearing your soft moan close to his ear, “play with me,” you whisper

“here?” he tries to sound confident, not insanely worried

“mhmm,” you hum as you kiss his neck, “make me come,” you whisper before softly nipping at his ear lobe

“can’t we go to the bathroom or something?” he tries again, hoping for a modicum of privacy

you sigh, “you’re such a worrier,” even as you pull away and head for the bathroom

once inside, you pull him close - the heat between you returning quickly

with a door between you and the rest of humanity, he was quick to unbutton your shorts and let them slide down her thighs, he marvels at your barely there panties and how wet they are

he pushes them to the side, working his fingers into you without a thought, and when you’re quiet, he’s almost disappointed

“this is when your quiet?” he needles

you smile and kiss him, “i can be quiet in the library too,” you quip

he’s surprised when you come quickly, he watches your cum dripping down to the bathroom floor - he’s amazed he got you off so well

he plays with your pussy idly, “that’s what i want to see you do in the library, leave a puddle under the desk,” he pushes his fingers back in - he’s sure your pussy basically sucks him in

you grin, “hmm, and here i was imagining sitting under the desk with your cock in my mouth,” you moan softly against his skin

he shrugs, working his fingers deeper, “it’s not like they’re mutually exclusive,” he reasons

you giggle, “fuck, stretch me more, princess - get me ready for your cock,” you mumble

he wonders if this has been your goal all along, but really who is he to question your motivation when you’re so wet and needy

[plummy-squish]

I just finished the book Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism by Amanda Montell. It’s about the language that cults will use to essentially brain wash their members (not in the typical brainwash way that you think about). It’s “the technical terms, the redefined words, the shorthand, the clichés, the euphemisms, logical distortions, and so on set members apart from and above their pedestrian neighbors, families, and coworkers". Montell does not necessarily view "cultish" – the "language" she identifies as the set of linguistic tricks cult leaders use to coerce and manipulate members – negatively, but she believes that people should at least be able to recognize it.”

Anyways fucked me up! In the past two days I’m seeing it everywhere, in marketing, in the slogans in my job, in popular work out groups, cliche phrases we all say…… and then i watched the latest episode of severance! I don’t think I’ll watch this show, and more specifically Mr Milchick and other unsevered employees the same.

In this last episode i wanna talk about that acronym ORTBO that they introduced because it’s the most obvious tactic that they used.

“Thought terminating clichés squash independent thinking” -Amanda montell

Episode 4 Spoilers ahead:

O- outdoor

R-retreat

T- team

B- building

O- occurrence

Wtf when have you ever heard this weirdly stated acronym? Well the innies do all the time! So this is normal for them to hear, i mean they are from the MDR department! Macrodata refinement, even with that longer version of the word it still doesn’t feel like a full explanation as to what their job does. But to them because they are introduced to it and taught to not question their bosses for fear of punishment and so they just go with it. Which now mdr has become part of their everyday vocabulary they don’t even question the meaning.

Cut to this episode, our innies are unconesntionally ripped out of their regular office space and put into this isolating harsh environment phrased as a reward. They are told they have been good enough to earn this trip and give it a title, the ORTBO, and they are very lucky to be experiencing this.

Later when they have been walking for a lot time, feeling lost and hungry are a considering eating a literal frozen dead seal because this “reward” isn’t feeling like a reward. Dylan reminds them, they are on an ORTBO and he repeats its vague meaning trying to convince them not to doubt the company. Almost trying to convince himself as well. This is the same Dylan that’s been getting fed incentives of seeing his family on the side and have been told he’s extra special. He has more to loose than anyone else right now and by repeating it is trying to stop everyone from doubting. Aka the orbto is working.

“Creating special language to influence people’s behavior and beliefs is so effective in part simply because speech is the first thing we’re willing to change about ourselves . . . and also the last thing we let go” -Amanda montell

Cults will make up words and introduce them in this way to make a group of people feel connected. Like they have been let into this new group of special workers allowed out side and given a term phrased as a reward to squash any train of thought leading to doubt or questioning. The further they go on this team building occurrence they will understand the reward.

They also use this new group language to make the group feel superior and anyone on the outside intrigued into what people are talking about. Making learning the language feel connecting with others and like you are understanding the deeper meaning. They feel superior and anyone on the outside feels like they are missing something.

Cross fit does this well! They have new work out terms like dms (delayed muscle soreness) so if a CrossFit gym bro is talking to a regular gym bro and uses the term DMS, the regular gym bro feels dumb for not knowing what this is and not keeping track of it. And is now curious as to what CrossFit has that he is missing before he knows it he’s sucked in. (I bet you they will bring back this term later if they can to alienate other employees in other departments)

Um hello even in the way they advertised this episode is using this tactic! They didn’t give us the meaning or context they gave us the word and now we wanna know what this new acronym is in the next episode.

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Severance universe has literally created a whole new language to keep certain people in the know and others confused. Watch for it!

It’s not always in acronym form; Sometimes it’s a saying, sometimes it’s just a common word given a double meaning to those in the group and out of the group.

Another day another dollar- something we hear all the time to make us just go to work and endure shit we shouldn’t

Doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith- something we would hear all the time growing up as Mormon to stop people from questioning and like it’s bad to have critical thought

Endowment- to people out side Mormonism it means gift people inside it’s a whole secret ritual that you are sworn to secrecy or off yourself before telling another soul

lol my work calls its self a village

Its everywhere! It’s in our marketing! It’s in our gyms! It’s at work! We don’t even notice because it’s working.

“Words are the medium through which belief systems are manufactured, nurtured, and reinforced, their fanaticism fundamentally could not exist without them.”-Amanda Montell

Anyways this book has fucked me up and has made severance even better for me

[moonsuke]

Episode Nagi 31

I love how the difference between Nagi and Isagi/the traditional Blue Lock ego is highlighted here again: “いま世界で一番熱いのは俺だ!!!"　"世界一のストライカーは俺だ!!!"

"The most fired up in the world... is me!!!" vs "The best striker in the world... is me!!!"

It's just the way it’s said with "Ore da!!!" (is me!!!) at the end. That's their ego speaking and Nagi really doesn’t care about being the best striker lol. What he, who never felt nor experienced much before Blue Lock, really cares about is more personal, like feeling the heat, fighting for something at stake, the joy of “winning”, being reborn, finally feeling alive and just having his existence validated. It’s very much linked to personal growth.

I guess Kaneshiro said it best with geniuses having self-type egos. It's becoming clear how much he takes into account Nagi's character when creating all the different ego dichotomies considering how neatly he fits into each. Same with Isagi. I guess they really are meant to be the ultimate representatives of their type and the polar opposite of each other.

And speaking of Isagi, I’ve quite mixed feelings about his phantom appearing lol, mainly because I wanted some genuine BarouNagi team up (fuck u knsr). But reading it again, in a way it’s highlighting to us they were both on the same wavelength. At the last critical moment, both were able to summon an ultimate play by visualising their ultimate rival, a very “genius” way of doing things.

Also seeing these panels made me feel some type of way:

How you can’t tell whether they’re looking at Isagi’s phantom or at each other in understanding (I think it’s the latter), to their quiet acknowledgement of each other as their shared visualisation of Isagi vanishes… In a way it’s kinda cool? How it shows them teaming up but still keeping that distance and friction between them while connected by their common goal to win Isagi. It’s a very “manly” (otokorashi) team up lol.

But also fuck you knsr, he always does this!! This “giving you what you want but not in the way you completely want” schtick. Always!!! He’s always treading on mixed allusions and “the borderline” <_<

I guess he really doesn’t want any other rivalry outside of Isagi so whatever’s between BarouNagi shouldn’t be labelled as such. He’ll never stop my yearning for more BarouNagi tho, in any form <_<

Anyway, I’m convinced now that he’s trying to match up events between the main series and the spin off. Idk what’s he trying to do but the Isagi focus in the newest chapters of both series ain’t a coincidence. Personally, I actually kinda like Nagi being “obsessed” with Isagi mainly because I like it contrasting and complementing his attachment to Reo, but the Isagi glazing by everyone is getting a bit much x_x

And speaking of events matching up, the next Episode Nagi chapter will be released on March 7, and it’s titled “いつか死ぬ君へ” (to you who’ll die someday)… I’m convinced the current BM vs PXG match will end before then and we’ll get to see Nagi again in the main series… And the EpiNagi chapter with the ominous title is gonna be linked to that…

Nagi in the main series has been set to “die” for a while now considering his talk with Barou “Go die and come back, you coward”. Even with Rin, death was mentioned “Do babies think about death when they’re born?” “This place is filled with tepid losers so I’ll go down to hell”.

Kinda side tracked but interesting how Barou’s talking about being reborn after dying, yet Rin’s talking about descending to hell willingly. I think it might be a foreshadowing to Rin’s downfall… or not… but anyway…

Nagi’s written to be set to die because no way is his downfall arc gonna be magically resolved in such an anticlimactic manner. He can’t be reborn when he hasn’t even died which makes it very fitting for “to you who’ll die someday”… right? Not to mention his whole skull motif and telling Reo to not die before him… So if anyone is dying during/after their final match… it wouldn’t be Reo.

But what I find most “telling” is probably this last page:

It matches up completely to how Nagi looked losing his ego after beating Isagi. I’m pretty sure it’s on purpose, to make us think back to main series’ events and with that title…

Fuck, I’m getting so scared and sad yet also excited thinking about this next chapter. March can’t come soon enough, I’m only hoping Nagi’s story will be handled well ;-;

[tyrantisterror]

Wife Goals: Hexadecimal

Hey fuckers. It's February, my Seasonal Affective Disorder is at its peak, and romance is on my mind whether I like it or not. So I'm going to ramble/gush about some of my favorite female characters in fiction, in a painfully honest and deeply cringe way, because fuck you that's why. We live in a post-Muncher society, you can't fucking stop me.

We're beginning with Hexadecimal from the 90's early CGI cartoon Reboot. I feel like most of tumblr's userbase was too young to watch that show. A lot of you were probably born after it aired. God I'm old. I'm so old and alone. Fuck.

Anyway, the premise of Reboot was that there was an entire world within your computer, with every program and file being people who lived inside the big city that makes up the computer itself. The city everything takes place in is called Mainframe, the main character was a security program, most of the citizens were shaped like 1's and 0's (binary code, get it?), everyone talked about things taking nanoseconds because one of the other conceits is that the people inside the computer experience time differently than humans, etc.

The villains of Reboot, at least initially, were computer viruses. One, the primary antagonist, was Megabyte, an evil overlord who wanted to take control of Mainframe by force - sort of the picture of a Lawful Evil villain, in D&D terms. The other, his sister, was Hexadecimal, the self-professed Queen of Chaos, who is more of a wicked witch (get it? Hex-adecimal!) that existed to cause mischief and mayhem for the sake of it. The Chaotic Evil to Megabyte's Lawful Evil, if you will - though as the series went on, calling Hex "evil" became more and more inaccurate.

Reboot was one of the first fully CGI cartoons, and it used the limitations of that early technology as a jumping off point to get creative with its setting and character concepts. Hexadecimal is very much a case in point for that - rigging face animations, especially on a humanoid face, is complicated and time-consuming, which is why there were very few humanoid characters in the first season of Reboot (and hence most of the case being made of 1's and 0's). For Hex, they decided to get around this by giving her a gimmick: Hexadecimal doesn't have a true face of her own, but rather dozens upon dozens of masks that she switches between with a wave of her hand. The result is that 1. the animators didn't need to work on in-between frames for her change in facial expression, saving a good bit of time and money and 2. Hexadecimal's mood changes are really, REALLY weird and unsettling to witness, selling her as some sort of supernatural monstrosity. She is magical in a dark, spooky way, even when just expressing feelings, and the result is a visual that really sticks with you - one that never would have been done if not for the limitations of that early CGI.

Of course, one of the other reasons Hexadecimal might have stuck out is that she was, uh... well, sexualized qutie a bit. Look, I'm not going to mince terms, there were some horny bastards working at Mainframe Entertainment (the company that made Reboot). These are the same animators who reportedly based Blackarachnia's design in Beast Wars after a stripper they saw while going out after work one night. In the first season of this show Hexadecimal full-figured and prone to walking in a very sultry way. When the show got dropped by ABC and picked up by another network, they put her in a full-on dominatrix outfit. Hex was always intended to be sexy.

And, like, ten-year old me didn't fully understand that when watching this show. But I do think that it was at least part of why my pre-adolescent brain because very obsessed with Hexadecimal, moreso than any of the other Reboot characters. She was interesting, for a lot of reasons, some of which I understood (funny scary monster villain lady) and some that I didn't understand but, like, vibed with intensely in ways that were formative and probably life-ruining.

Thankfully Hexadecimal was also just a very well-written character, perhaps the best in all of Reboot. Her first episode establishes the base components of her characterization that the rest of the show would build upon. Hex unleashes a computer bug using code from a paint program, which turns everyone who encounters it to stone. She specifically unleashes it by hiding it in a package and pretending to guard it, which makes her brother/rival villain, Megabyte, think it's some important mcguffin that he should steal. He does, and ends up the first victim of the medusa bug, which then spreads through all his minions, and then through all the different ways he has to sneak into the heart of Mainframe city, eventually infecting almost every citizen.

Already we establish several things about Hex: first, her schemes aren't about conquering people, but causing mayhem and havoc for the sake of it. Second, despite her chaotic nature, she's smart enough to make proper evil schemes. Third, she's a good judge of character in her way, as she figured the easiest way to get Megabyte to take the bait was to pretend she had something valuable for him to steal. Fourth, despite also being "evil," she's not on good terms with her brother/rival villain, and in fact wants to take him out first before anyone else. Fifth, holy shit she is SO much more powerful than the main bad guy, it's her first episode and she already almost won!

Almost. Of course, Bob, our hero security program, goes to Hexadecimal to try and stop her, at which point we find out Hex has something of a manic crush on Bob (as she articulates later in the series, "Oh Bob, I don't know whether to kiss you OR KILL YOU!"), and is actually willing to hear him out when he comes in doing his hero routine. Luckily, Bob is clever too, and decides to beat Hex the same way she beat Megabyte - he tells her that she should be proud of how orderly she made Mainframe. After all, with everyone turned to stone, nothing will change - it'll all be the same forever, quiet, calm, peaceful, and boring. Hexadecimal, the self-professed Queen of Chaos, immediately realizes she's made a nightmare for herself, and undoes her evil scheme with a wave of her hand before letting Bob go out of gratitude for keeping her from making a horrible mistake.

Which is the most important thing we've learned about Hexadecimal in her debut: she values freedom. Oh, she calls it chaos, yes, but Hexadecimal's biggest belief is that people should have the freedom to make their own choices, no matter how violent and destructive they may be. She's an anarchist first and foremost, and she values freedom so much that she'd gladly admit she was wrong and undo a successful scheme if someone correctly points out that said scheme goes against her ideals.

Especially if that someone is the guy she likes.

Hexadecimal is a supremely powerful villain who can't really be overpowered, but can be reached and defeated emotionally. As the show goes on, dealing with Hex increasingly becomes focused on building a relationship with her, and for most of the runtime Bob is the only person who is both brave and compassionate enough to try and give it a shot. While he doesn't share Hexadecimal's romantic feelings, he nonetheless feels there is something good buried deep beneath her mania, and that she is worth reaching out to.

And we in turn see that is is 100% correct. For all her supervillain antics, her ranting and raving, her violent outbursts and maniacal schemes, Hexadecimal is at her core an intensely lonely person, someone who craves affection but drives off almost everyone who gets close because of her psychological instability. She deeply wants people to love - she dotes on her little cat-like follower, Scuzzy, and she's also kind to nulls, creatures made from broken programs in the computer world that most people regard as vermin. And there are so many times when Hexadecimal's latest scheme is something Bob just... talks her out of.

Given the nature of serialized storytelling, Hexadecimal's vast strength did not stay insurmountable, and there were several times where she was humbled to show how great the new threat in the story was. Perhaps the most important was when Megabyte finally managed to get one over on her, literally shackling her with a control collar like she was a rabid dog and forcing her to be a living power source for his weaponry. Eventually Hex broke free (as she says, "Chaos will always triumph over order! It is the way of things!"), but at the cost of breaking herself further, which is visually represented by a crack forming on her mask. Bob, who'd been away for some time at this point (watch the show to know why), finds her and helps her fix her map - and this act of kindness, of care, of healing allows Hex to express emotions without swapping her mask for the first time, and, in the process, express herself with more self control. The children's cartoon show equivalent of finally getting this poor woman the meds she needs.

Unfortunately, most of the other characters weren't willing to forgive Hex for her past actions, and she spent the final season regarded with suspicion and coldness by all the other people of Mainframe even as she tried to turn over a new leaf. And while Bob cared about her, he didn't love her, a fact she had trouble accepting. The tragedy of this came to a head when the main threat of the fourth season, a new virus named Daemon whose plot was even more apocalyptic than anything Hex came up with in her villainous prime, unleashed a doomsday infection that could only be stopped by another virus - and even then, that virus would be sacrificing their life to pull it off. Hexadecimal willingly chooses to do it, happily even, with a smile on her face - because while she was going to die, the people she cared about would live, and perhaps think a little better of viruses like her as a result.

I think that is what made Hexadecimal stick with me more than anything - more than the cool mask, the awesome villain antics, or the 90's cartoon age-inappropriate sexy character design. Hexadecimal, more than anything else, is defined by her love for others and her desire for them to be free to live their lives as they choose. That means they can choose not to love her, not to forgive her, not to include her. They're free, that's their choice, just as it's her choice whether or not to love them in spite of it, and her choice to die for their freedom and happiness. She loved so, so deeply, and the thing that sticks with me, the thing that broke my heart as a kid and breaks it now, is that no one ever loved her back.

Yeah, she was creepy and maniacal and almost killed a bunch of people a lot of times, but she was also so full of love, and all she really needed was for it to be reciprocated! She needed people who were willing to care for her, even just a little bit - and she deserved people who cared a lot more than that, because if she was willing to do so much good for so little, imagine what good she could have done if someone loved her as much as she loved them.

Anyway, while I had many precocious crushes before Hexadecimal, I'm pretty sure she's the reason why my "type" seems to be "women who are made entirely out of Red Flags." And maybe that's ok.

...

no it's not ok why am I like this

[adoreangelia]

Show You ── . ꪆৎ

paring: weirdo! pouge! reader x rafe cameron

warning: mdni 18+, fingering, overstimulation

summary: rafe shows you have bad he wants to take this relationship seriously.

a/n: i swear to you i just had to rewrite this whole thing because i forgot to save the draft. anyway, this is my first smut so it might be a little corny. if any pro writers reading this help me! hope you guys enjoy 🫶🏽.

you and rafe had always been on and off. the two of you never lasting simply because it seems impossible.

one of the reason being your he was your best friend’a brother— sarah cameron. you hated that, the fact that you both having to sneak around constantly. going so far as to not even being in the same room.

and you knew it was bad. being in a situation with him. but you couldn’t bring your self to stop seeing him.

rafe hated hiding you guys relationship he would always try to convince you that sarah wouldn’t care— that she’d just eventually have to accept the fact that her best friend was dating her brother.

with that being said rafe wanted to take you guys serious, and in reality you knew that. it was just you he was waiting on.

it was another typical night at tanny hill— sarah had run off with topper and had you covering for her. you and rafe had just had a messy break up so you had no one to entertain you while sarah was gone.

the first hour was fine to say the least, you invited yourself to explore her room which you’ve done thousands of times before. never finding anything new.

the second hour you decided to watch tv, which you hated. already bored with the movie you picked.

just as you’re getting ready to doze off a ping comes from your phone— the screen lighting up with a notification from “rafe”.

quickly sitting up you grab the phone unlocking it to open the message

rafe: “come to my room” it reads.

taking a deep sigh you force your self up off the bed and head toward his room.

walking through the eerie halls that always managed to put you a edge. until finally you finally make your way to the boy’s room.

hesitantly you twist the knob of the door peeking your head through the door.

rafe sits on the edge of his bed, right leg bouncing up and down.

until he hear the door and turns his head to look your way.

“cm’on sit down, i ain’t gone hurt you.” he pats the empty spot next to him signaling you to come and sit.

finally you want in slowly closing the door behind you making sure it doesn’t squeak.

slowing you make your way over to his bed sitting down where he told you.

almost instantly his hand pull your legs over his lap.

“rafe, it’s late and sarah will be back any minute.” you mumble already fed up with the whole set up.

“just let me talk baby, please?” his eyes are basically begging me to let him talk.

“fine just.. make it quick.”

he nods in agreement before he starting talking again.

the typical run down of how he’s sorry and he was just in a “bad state of mind” typical sorry ass excuses.

“just one more time i know i fucked up, but listen i want you just you that’s all.” he ramble on and about the same things for what feels like forever.

“i’m sorry and i love you, alright?” his right hand hold the side of your face giving you a small kiss on your forehead “just let me show you”

you wanted to say fuck him and leave so bad but the way he was touching you.

the way his hands rubbed up and down against your thigh.

“you know i love you right..” he mumbled against your skin.

you nod already high off the sound of his voice.

your back now against his mattress, half dazed as to how quickly everything just took place.

his hand travels under your shirt exploring what underneath .

the tip of his thumbs brushing against the skin of you already tender nipples.

small whines escape from your lips.

“i know baby, i know.” his hands start to lift up the ends of your shirt.

bending done kissing along your stomach. “cm’on let’s take this off”

with the shirt off and your chest now fully exposed his tongue wraps around the sensitive skin.

both already swollen and sensitive from previous teasing.

the little noises your making equal to music in rafe’s ears.

his free hand gliding down your loose pajama pants.

“just wanted to get fucked by my fingers tonight, huh?” the pads of his fingers start to move in circular motions around your cunt. “answer me.”

“yes, yes fuck.” you whine fucking yourself against his fingers.

“atta’ girl” a light chuckle comes from him at your response

“so wet f’me” he mumbled against your ear.

the feelings of his warm breath against you.

his fingers dig into your cunt warm and wet a perfect fit for them.

bringing his thumb to rub again your already sensitive clit.

“fuck yesss” you moan gripping onto his bicep as your high starts to approach you.

“yeah that it’s, let it go angel” he whispers placing gentle kisses along your neck and lips.

body shaking through the intense orgasm.

“there you go baby.” he says kissing your cheek.

pulling his hand from the now messy pajamas and licking his fingers.

“showed you didn’t i?”

a/n: omg please kill me, i’ve never cringed so hard writing something in my life. anyway, i know i been gone, most because i’ve been busy and been having such writers block. but for a while but im back guys!

[heykaya]

Happy to see you posting again!

Can I ask why Alex is your favorite?

hehe glad I was missed :3

Reasons I love Alex:

Gives you a job.

Gives you part of his farm.

Gives you a safe place to live and a room of your own, even before you romance him.

Will never rape you.

Will drop everything to run over and save you.

DOL-town royalty is threatening me (a teenager)? Lol let me tell Remy to fuck off.

Will also tell Bailey to fuck off to protect you, even to his own detriment.

Hard working and muscular.

Muscular.

Muscular.

Cooks you breakfast every morning, even at Max dom.

Gently bumps his head against yours.

Will spank you (at high dom).

Will eat you for breakfast (at low dom).

Scenic horse riding dates.

Smart enough to make drugs.

Comes from a family of farmers, still humble enough to listen to PC’s Tending tips.

Introduces you to his father who gives you $10k.

Actually has social skills and isn’t afraid to talk to people on the phone.

Is funny + can dance.

He’s such a good dad 😭

(Also I’m into that housewife tradlife thing. I used to go for Eden but he’s pretty boring tbh. Plus, Alex cooks you breakfast while Eden feeds you his leftovers. seriously wtf is up with that?!)

Like his dad says, he is dogged (super stubborn and persistent). PC has the option to stop Alex from being so fucking insane. Pulling him back from fighting a group of Remy’s goons, discouraging him from drinking so much and dealing drugs - they all reduce his Love. It doesn’t make him happy, but imo it’s what’s best for him. But since this is a game where even the bad ends are temporary, I join in on the crazy shit.

His biggest flaw is paying PC less at high dominance. I’m willing to overlook this because of the super hot spanking scene + you can make a shitload of money from the fields anyway. If he makes you mad you can call him a weak little bitch during encounters lol (his insecurity is strength).

Fr despite all of Alex’s abilities, I don’t think he’d be able to flourish and protect the farm from Remy without PC’s help. An orphan and a struggling farmer. One found a safe home and a family, the other made his dreams a reality. And together, they lived happily ever after :D

As happily as you can in DOL-town, at least.

(Also to comment on the others)

Robin:

Initially found him cute, but the more I got to know him the less I like him.

Literally PC's babies are less demanding than Robin.

Robin does not deserve confidence.

Whitney

The only thing he awakens in me is violence.

Dismissed every time no mercy gg

I agree he's super hot though. I'll enjoy him via fanart instead.

Eden

(see above)

Avery

He shows up once a week, gives me money, and fucks off. Very appealing!

I think he's OK. Just remember that he's incapable of truly loving PC.

As a source of income he's fine. As a lover no because of above + his dates are really repetitive.

Kylar

This guy should not be outside.

Sydney

He's very sweet and I get the appeal, but he's not my type.

[intrepidacious]

occupy my brain [4]

series summary: Being Harlan Thrombey’s research assistant would be the perfect summer job if it weren’t for his grandson.

pairing: ransom drysdale x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

chapter warnings: heavily implied smut; ransom being his usual asshole self; the repercussions of chapter 3 😏 please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: these chapters keep getting longer and someone needs to stop me to be quite honest. or maybe don't. this was a fun one 🤭

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

searching for redemption

It had been a few days since the incident, and your mind couldn't stop replaying that night. It was like you were stuck on a loop. Every time you closed your eyes, you could feel his hands on you again. His lips.

And when your own hands traveled down your body, you couldn't replicate the sensations those memories brought you. The frantic clashing of your bodies against each other, the heat, the sounds.

It was maddening.

The last thing you needed right now was an unhealthy obsession with the memory of Ransom fucking Drysdale's dick.

You'd have to quit. You'd have to leave the country. You were still thanking your lucky stars that Harlan Thrombey hadn't said anything about the state of you the morning after, when you arrived at your meeting late and in a very wrinkled shirt. You'd wanted to die.

The man wrote detective novels, for crying out loud. It didn't exactly take Sherlock Holmes to deduce what you'd been up to the night before.

The one silver lining was that Ransom was still as unwilling to get any actual work done as ever, and so you'd been pretty successful at evading him. Apart from a couple of research-related texts exchanged between the two of you, you hadn't heard from him at all; and even though your own messages were bordering on passive-aggressive, his stayed surprisingly, and thankfully, innuendo-free.

You just wanted to forget any of it had ever happened.

There were only a few weeks left of your run at Blood and Wine, and then you never had to see him again at all. You'd never been more grateful for your semester schedule picking up immediately after break. After sinking a couple of eighty-hour weeks into lab reports and essays and analyses, you'd be back to normal again.

Everything was going to be fine.

Except there were still a few weeks left of your run at Blood and Wine, and when you left the lab building on Friday afternoon to catch a ride home with your friend, her car wasn't anywhere on the parking lot. Instead, you could see a beat-up BMW and a certain dark-haired asshole leaning against it.

Heat rushed to your cheeks immediately at the sight of him. His lips were twisted into his usual scowl as he scrolled through his phone. It wasn’t bright enough outside to warrant wearing sunglasses, and yet Mr Pretentious did it anyway.

"What are you doing here?" you called out, stopping a couple of paces away from him.

Ransom put his phone away, and even though you couldn't see his eyes you could feel his gaze dragging up and down your body lazily. You ground your teeth.

"We've been summoned," he finally said. "Don't you ever check your phone?"

As a matter of fact, you hadn't in a while; labs made you forget all concept of time, particularly with the amount of reports you'd had to finish. You found an e-mail from Harlan Thrombey marked urgent as well as several missed calls from [Don't even think about it] and a message from your friend telling you she'd left without you after "your asshole guy told me u had plans. use protection!!"

"How did you even know where I was, anyway?" you asked, putting your phone away again without deigning to answer that particular text.

"I asked nicely."

You snorted.

"Can we go or do you wanna wait here until you take root?"

"Right now?" you said reluctantly.

"Right now," Ransom drawled. "Get in."

So much for your evening plans of watching a couple of episodes of your favorite show and eating sushi in bed. With a groan, you climbed into his car. It smelled surprisingly nice in here, like worn-out leather and some expensive air freshener and, well, Ransom.

Hot breaths and sticky skin and low moans and—

The engine roared to a start and you quickly turned away to put your seatbelt on. It was a twenty minute drive to the Thrombey estate, and you spent the first half of it staring out of the window, ignoring the man behind the wheel. You weren't sure what you were waiting for; some snide remark, probably, an excuse for you to rip into him like you usually would and leave everything that had happened between you behind for good.

"You're being awfully quiet today."

When you looked at him, he was staring blankly at the road ahead, his face unbothered. He still hadn't taken off his sunglasses, even though the lights were pretty low now. Prick.

"Because this is weird," you said.

He put the blinker on, every movement nonchalant. "Why?"

You rolled your eyes. "You know why."

The pause that followed was long enough it almost let you hope he'd just drop it and you'd be off the hook. You could just move through the uncomfortable air between you and continue working together as history's worst team until you could finally part ways.

"Do you always get like this or has it been a while?"

Then again, always lovely to be reminded how much you hated the guy.

"You know what, I'm not even going to answer that," you said sharply.

"The second one, then."

"It's none of your business, Ransom."

"No," he said and readjusted his glasses. "It was fun, though."

"Fuck you."

He stayed silent for the rest of the drive, but the smug energy still radiated off him. You entertained yourself by thinking about murder.

*~*~*

"Ransom, take those glasses off," Harlan said as soon as you sat down in his office.

You gave Ransom a look that said told you so; you'd had that discussion just minutes earlier.

"No thanks," he answered, leaning back in his chair. "What did you want to talk about?"

Harlan sighed heavily. "Off now or so help me god, I'm going to write you out of my will after all."

There were a couple of angry red splotches forming on Ransom's neck, right above the spot where you knew you'd left your mark on him, which was just hidden by the collar of his sweater today. With another gruff sound, he finally pulled his sunglasses off.

You swallowed your gasp down.

"What happened with you?"

Ransom raised his chin to look his grandfather straight in the eye; it made the shadows fall on his face in a way that made the dark bruise stand out even more.

"I fell," he said dryly, his features made of stone.

You didn't hear Harlan's reply; you barely took anything from the meeting, even though you felt yourself nodding, agreeing to consider a couple of different things in your research for the remainder of your work time. Later, you even found a couple of notes you'd taken on your phone.

Your thoughts were swirling and you didn't even know why. It was all very confusing.

Only when you got back to Ransom's car, because of course you'd had to agree to him driving you again, that one thing crystallized for you clear as day: you were furious with him.

"You fell, huh?" you said sharply.

"That's what I said."

"Bullshit someone else, Drysdale. What did you do?"

"Why do you care?" he said, tilting his head. "Because we fucked one time?"

Your face was burning. "Sorry for trying to be a decent human being."

You crawled into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut behind you, which really didn't have the intended effect when he was getting in on the other side just moments later.

Neither of you spoke this time. You were staring at your own reflection in the car window, still fuming; that's why it took you until the car slowed down that you weren't even in the area of your apartment building.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to ice my face," he said, turning off the engine, "and then I'm going to sleep."

"Hey!" You got out of the car after him, face incredulous. "You said you were gonna drive me home!"

"I said I'd drive you. I did. If you don't wanna stay, call yourself an uber."

Drowning. Strangulation. Multiple lacerations to his thorax.

"You're such a prick."

"Where have I heard that one before?"

You followed him into the entrance hall because damn him, you were not going to stand out there in the middle of the night and hope for an uber to be in the vicinity.

"Brighten up, sunshine," he said, another way too smug expression on his face. "You need to learn how to relax."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you hissed, throwing one of your shoes at him.

"Jesus, what—I should be the one asking you that."

You threw the second shoe. "I’m not the one driving you insane!"

"You sure about that?" His voice was low, almost raspy, and your gaze snapped to his, almost involuntarily. His eyes seemed to bore straight into your soul, like he was searching for something.

Slowly, he stepped closer to you, his hands roughly grabbing your face. Still, the way he pulled you towards him was almost gentle, his gaze heavy with something you couldn’t pin down. At last, your faces were merely inches apart. You couldn’t breathe.

Then, finally, his lips found yours again, softer this time but no less demanding. You clasped your hands around his neck to keep your balance when he started walking towards you, making you blindly stumble backwards, his arms securely around you when you almost tripped over something on the floor. You didn’t care to open your eyes.

You hissed when your calves hit the stairs sharpy, the pain almost enough to break the spell he put you under. "Ransom—" you tried.

He huffed disapprovingly, his grip tightening, and then he continued walking you up the stairs, letting you lean on him just enough to not lose your balance, the hunger in his eyes growing even as he noticed the uncertainty in yours.

Getting to the second floor took moments. It took hours. His mouth found that spot on your neck again and you shuddered, your grip on him tightening.

"We shouldn't—" You gasped when he nipped at your shoulder. "Shouldn't we talk about this?"

"Do you want to talk?" he snarled, his hands wandering down to your ass. "Or do you want to stop thinking for once in your life and let me make you cum enough times you won't be able to walk tomorrow?"

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and tugged his head backwards until he hissed, forcing him to look at you. The bruise around his eye looked even angrier up close, and you inexplicably found yourself wanting to trace it, not to hurt him more but to soothe.

Instead, you swallowed it down. "Promises, promises," you said.

He didn't need another invitation.

thank you to everyone who voted for this chapter on my most recent poll, it was a close one!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 🧡

[ask-apostle-ghoul]

The wounds you cause will never mend... and you will never end

Trigger warning: contains mention of death, Apostle finally breaking down like he should have. (This is my attempt of a rewrite of Apostle's story, a bit of a new chapter to sort of write out the lore I had made with the Nihil and Seestor blogs (Which were run by a minor that lied about their age. No NSFW happened but still I wish to rewrite anyways because I wasn't proud of how Apostle was as a character. It was very OOC.) I'm adding a read more thing considering this is over 1.1k words. You guys are probably going to scream at me. :)

Light bell ringing sounded out in the silent halls of the chapel. Biscotti has been frantic all day, pupils narrow as he dashed down the halls. "Master? Master where did you go?" The cat pleaded, his head turning as he peeked into room after room. Apostle was nowhere to be seen. Hasn't been seen all week, actually. Where was he? Biscotti jolted and fur puffed up hearing the sudden jam and playing of an organ. "Of... of course...." The cat mumbled, brisky trotting to the main room of the chapel. 

There he was, shoulders taut, back hunched over, shirt open so Apostle can breathe through the gills along his ribs, torn skin around the gills showing the lack of use. Apostle was breathing heavily as he played, claws pressing keys and feet on the pedals as he played. It was a somber melody, but a loud one. A loud somber cry of agony.

Apostle's eyes stung with tears, the gills on his neck burning due to the salt of his tears. His hands were trembling, head spinning as he played his heart out.

"Master?"

Apostle's playing abruptly stopped, a tense silence rolling in like a fog. Biscotti hopped onto one of the front pews, observing how the red and blue light from the stained glass window shone down on Apostle.

"What... do you want cat."

His question was short, simple, yet angry. The feline chirruped and tilted their head. "I just wished to find you. You haven't been seen in days and Calynn has be-" 

"Calynn has been worried. I know. I know. I don't... I can't be near him right now." Apostle side eyed his feline, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. "Why not?" Biscotti wondered out loud. "You haven't eaten in days. You look like a canned anchovy all skinny with no meat." The feline remarked, staring at Apostle's thinner tail, the spine of it almost visible, the skin of the tail sagging. Apostle's cheeks were a little more sunken in, bags under his puffy eyes. "You're ruining yourself, master." Biscotti scoffed, clearly displeased. 

They were unaffected when Apostle turned around quickly, the ghoul glaring at the feline. "You could have told me! I was speaking to hallucinations this whole damn time and yet you done nothing?!" Apostle screamed at the feline, his hands trembling as he grasped his knees. "A demon was forcing me to hallucinate my dead husband and wife just so they could get any semblance of freedom and sneak out after slipping through a rift between here and hell! The husband and wife that I oh so lovingly thought were back were nothing all along?!" Apostle screamed, the chapel walls echoing his heartbroken outburst.

"Nobody was able to see it until recently, Master. You have to give yourself some grace with that." Biscotti's reassurances fell on deaf ears as Apostle's lips curled up into a snarl, his tail whipping back and forth, leaving some indentation on the wood of the organ bench he was sitting on. "Grace? When was I ever given any pathetic grace? You were able to tell when something was off yet and you had figured it out but neglected to tell me a single thing? That demon isn't innocent in this. There are no innocents in here, cat! All a lot of people, ghoul or human, have done was manipulate me and hurt me time and time again! I've hurt and harmed and caused so much damage to the actual innocents here! Luna, Lance, Omega, Calynn, my fucking sons! I-I genuinely thought they were back! I-I thought I was able to be happy again! I thought I was going to be able to heal from everything! I- I thought that we- I thought..." 

Biscotti observed how his master slumped over in the bench, holding his head in his hands and sobbing. An agonizing heartbroken sob coming from a lovesick and heartbroken man. Apostle has been holding onto grief and sorrow for years at this point.... ever since summoning the one to murder his stepchildren. It wasn't good for his heart, not at all. "You can't keep doing this to yourself master... You'll-" "I know. I know. I'll fucking die.... b-but at this point there's no other choice, is... is there?" Apostle questioned, his voice hushed like it were a confessional booth he was sitting in. His chest heaved, throat constricting as he started to stammer. "Maybe- Maybe it was destined. M-maybe Satan has some sick twisted humor in causing me so much fucking misery!" "Master no don't- You can't-" "Stress myself out? I know I shouldn't stress myself out but you fucking know what? Life seems to always find a fucking way here! That's all this fucking ministry is! Ordering me around to do shit, I do what I am asked to do but when I do I just get more punished! I'm just a fucking toy to the clergy! Some little plaything they can command like a mangy mutt!" Apostle's voice started to crack, a noticeable paleness in his skin as he rambled on, his gills opening and closing rapidly while he breathed as if it would save him from this drowning feeling. 

The sound of the chapel doors rattling didn't pass his mind, the way his hands felt clammy and he was struggling to breathe. "Master you need to calm yourself." The familiar urged, their eyes narrowing at the ghoul. Apostle stared down at his hands, fidgeting and twitching like a nervous child. Something didn't feel right at all. "Master... are you doing ok?" Biscotti quietly asked. "No... no I'm not..." It was Apostle's only response. Biscotti was going to speak and reassure his master, but the cat immediately got up when Apostle's eyes shut and his body landed on the floor with a thud. "Apostle!"

"Mmmm...." Apostle groaned as his vision came to. The chapel was quiet, no light shining through the windows. What... what happened?   Where... how long has he been here? His chest... didn't hurt anymore? Checking his phone which was nearby, there were over a dozen texts and calls from Luna, Calynn, Lance, everyone really. Once sitting up, the weight of a furry friend on his lap caught his attention. 

"I'm glad you're back. I wasn't even sure if it would even work. Are you in any more pain?" 

Biscotti asked, the cat's pupils dilated as they kneaded Apostle's leg. "How are you.... how am I able to talk to you anyways? What happened to me?" Apostle asked quietly, his nerves alight, his body trembling in what he can only describe as unease. "Well. Simple really." Biscotti chirped, grinning and hopping off Apostle's lap and sitting on the organ, wincing a little at the abrupt noise. "I am a familiar like you have always thought. But you don't know how I truly feed. Do you?" The feline asked. The ghoul carefully sat up, ignoring the soreness in the back of his neck. "No... not really..." A frown curled his lips and he rubbed his jaw, yawning and pulling himself up enough to sit back on the organ bench. "I figured. You never were one to ask questions. I'm a familiar, yes, but I feed more on element magic, but I only require a little bit of it to sustain. It's not harmful at all, think of it how an empath soaks up the emotions from people around him." Biscotti pawed at Apostle, snapping him out of his little daze. "Then... how are you speaking to me." Apostle questioned his familiar, pleading quietly to know what the hell happened. He was frazzled and in shock, but not in any pain. It was.... it felt strange... and it didn't sit right with him. 

"You couldn't communicate with me before simply because you couldn't. You're back from your heart givi-" "Why the hell are you dodging the question? Answer me." Apostle demanded, Biscotti avoiding the subject for far too long.

"Well... I can only communicate with someone unless they are a kit or child, pregnant with what you call a kit or a baby, or..." Biscotti's ears flattened and the cat's gaze went to the floor, as if heartbroken to know the answer. Apostle's anger faded as he waited for Biscotti's silence, and he reached out to pet his familiar. "And... what's the last one?" The ghoul asked quietly, voice wavering at the unsuspected silence. With a small sigh, or as close to a sigh as a cat could make, he looked at Apostle and answered.

"Unless you've died or have been brought back from the dead."

[marzipanilla]

RAGE ! heh. yah.

To just veer off bc I have been rewatching this channels stuff lately - Batman stuff ! (x)

On to the rambles.

Yeah it just felt like every single character came out of the woodwork JUST to say 'wink wink nudge nudge we KNEW you two crazy kids would figure it out eventually!' and ?? why ??? why ?? why did you feel the need for their EXES specifically to give them the go ahead, to even shove them towards it even?? I just ?? surely they have other shit to talk about? Not to mention Rex and Eve's we are traumatized teens bonding was way more interesting then their very shitty romance!

I hate the fucking while I was dying I was thinking of you line too. Yes Mark. When you are panicking and freaked out, clearly that is when your mind is most clear. please. dear god. amid the ethics courses you should have been taking, a few ones about psychology and trauma response would also be good, yes?

lol Hannibal. Yeah. I agree. I love Mads' interview where he like Hannibal is the happiest man I have ever portrayed : ) and its like. he's right tho. That man IS having the time of his life and his falling in love, he is having a GREAT time. beautiful show. need to rewatch it soon.

I was talking to someone else and they compared the whole Eve and her parents situation to 'I wont be gay in the house but you can't stop me from being gay outside' and like. ugh. it really is tho. WHY are you still there. WHY are you so determined to make THESE people your family. You know you were (unknowingly adopted) they AREN'T your only option anymore. You aren't 12. You had TT ! (supposedly) You have NEW friends now!! Stop going back to these people!!

The UTTERLY SILENT (I do like the choice but it is also funny that all that happens is literally without a voice) and completely undiscussed by the main 'moral' force of the show maybe villains have REASONS for what they do opening ??? yeah it was great but it also feels so 'lol look at whats going on in the background! no one will ever realize how complex these situations can be!!' anyway here's Oliver being fucking stupid.

Like yeah, I loved the GoG breakdown/breakup in ep 3, as like a we all need to discuss autonomy and accountability and the messed up world we live and people are both right and wrong- but any of the personal-ness to it is ABSENT bc again.. we have rarely seen these people do anything. Stop calling them your family Samson! NONE of you know each other !! Also him calling out Rudy for playing the odds and then acting like he's all fond of him is wild. Amanda being so thrilled this 19 year old girl is marrying her boss is insane. AND Immortal just invited his own ass back, that shit is hilarious. You know that fucker would make anyone asking to come back jump through hoops.

I have played a bit with the idea of danger blind Debbie and it just.. it makes enough sense to me. Her response to terrible shit happening just being like 'well this is annoying : /' while everyone else is freaking out. I feel like Nolan would have been like ??? squishy human not afraid ??? and Debbie's response like ?? you think you're special bc you can kill me?? literally anything could kill me ! Why should I be afraid of you just bc you're fast and strong? A slow person with an air filled needle could get me !! and Nolan just having to be like : / Okay. I guess I see your point.

Look I find the over all narrative and some of the characters fascinating enough that I WANT to engage with and talk about this media, but honestly, I am such a hater and I don't even try not to be xD Invincible is my BUT YOU COULD BE GOOD IF YOU WERE GOOD fandom fr. 'star wars would be great if it wasn't star wars' is a thing I've seen half-jokingly get thrown around and for me its 'Invincible could be good if they weren't adhering it to the comic' lol

TBH I started a 'Cecil basically becomes Mark's parental figure' story that would take place in my Liar Liar/Man Who Played Wolf AU, but I ended up disliking it so I never really went back to salvage it. Maybe I just need to refocus and honestly just make it about Cecil : /

Honestly given a number of the dumb things the GDA gets up to I wonder how good they are at strategizing lol Like.. I really hoped they would leave out the 'we knew Nolan was lying FROM THE START!' thing, bc.. okay... he's a viltrumite. You have only just recently barely found anything that could hurt them... but... like... 20 years on the planet... and not only did you find nothing you didn't WARN anyone ? like ? where's the contingencies ??? Also I will never get over them not giving that astronaut a medical check up, just so he could go puke up more aliens into his sink. Sometimes I also think they deliberately prevent heroes from getting access to education bc the moment one of those fuckers learns how to strategize then you're ACTUALLY fucked, bc they really do make some dumb decisions in battles. constantly.

Yapping bug ! time for the yappings !!

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.

[batwynn]

Why are 90% of the horoscopes that I see (against my will) formulated like this???

[journey-to-the-attic]

"karasu search how 2 cheer human up"

"karasu search difference between sad human and zoning out human"

"karasu search how long is it safe for humans to zone out for?"

(+ a longer look at each scene:)