#this is literally so deranged I’m so sorry

[jokersphantom]

The Taste Of Death

Jack Goodman X Reader smut

WARNINGS: this has literal cannibalism in it, please do not read if you don’t yearn with your mouth. PIV sex, creampie, oral sex (reader receiving), mention of birth control.

A cold gust of wind brushes against your bare leg. The skin ripples slowly, like your body isnt used to being put in a situation where it has to heat itself and has since forgotten basic function. However if your body had decided to ignore you, you couldn’t quite tell because your mind was beyond comparison in terms of being vacant.

You received a phone call from Jack’s mother, informing you of your friend’s death across the sea. Her voice trembled and she practically sobbed as she told you of how horrible of a condition he was in and how David was a suspect in his murder. You should’ve been sad, but all you felt was disbelief; like you expected Jack to start laughing on the other end of the line before asking if you’d like to grab dinner with him (and David, of course, always David). You wish you cried, that you joined his mother in her quivering voice and choked sobs; instead, all you could do was think of how little of this she would share if she wasn’t so deeply disturbed and upset.

You went to Jack’s funeral, and discovered early on that you’d be waiting awhile to actually see him because everyone else who hadn’t given a shit in the past years decided to make up for it today. One of his exes showed up with her new boyfriend but started sobbing violently as she began to give a loud speech about how good of a man he was. As she spoke, you imagined Jack rolling over in his grave; or at this point, coffin; at her tears. “Wasn’t good enough for you to keep your pants on when Mark showed up!” You imagined him saying.

What stood out the most was the fact his casket was closed. Which only solidified your denial in Jack’s death. How out of place you seemed, staring down at the chiseled oak with a glare like you were expecting him to pop out and scare you like he did at a Halloween party years prior. Something even more ghastly was that you didn’t even think there was a body in there.

Weeks later you still hadn’t accepted that he died. You still consoled his mother and spoke with her often, you weren’t a complete lamb. David had yet to call, he was probably suffering a lot more than you were with your apathy or he was still comatose.

Once again the wind started to blow on through again and it finally caused you to shiver and begrudgingly trod to the window. As you neared, you heard the undeniable whisper of the leaves as they rustled and gently tapped the sides of the house. The outside was hardly visible, illuminated by the full moon and it left a cascading deep blue over the rest of the world.

You stared outside for a moment longer, letting the cool air curl around you and leave gooseflesh with every kiss upon your skin. The moonlight seems to bless you every moment you sit in its presence, the soft light bears white brightness among the clouds and entrances you in a way it never has before.

“Long time no see” a voice rings out from behind you.

Now you understand why.

As you turn around, there stands Jack Goodman in (what's left of) the flesh and before you can even think of it, you’re loudly exclaiming “Jesus Christ!” Before scurrying to your bed and balling up the covers as you try to shun away whatever you’re seeing by covering your eyes. “No, Jack, remember? God have you gone completely off your rocker since you’ve last seen me?”

You don’t dare remove the covers from your eyes, and you don’t have to. The springs of your mattress ache with weight and a gentle hand pulls it back. The fright sets a warm fire deep in your stomach.

Nonetheless, there he is, Jack Goodman. One of your best friends, completely mauled and looking at you with a smile as the grotesque chunks of flesh that's covered in a deep cherry red glisten under the light. In a macabre way, it makes your mouth water.

Jack looks at you for a moment before waving his hand in front of your face and snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. “You there? Oh god, you’re in shock; David’s gonna kill me again” he snickers at his own awful joke.

As you come back to earth, Jack gives you the rundown of what’s happened so far. While he speaks, you focus on what he’s wearing. The green puffer jacket that had been doused in your scent the night before because Jack “forgot you used it as a pillow case”; that statement is another one David did not buy and consistently gave him shit for the chick repellent as they rode on the back of a shepherd's truck.

“How I ended up back here, I’m not sure, not that I’m complaining about being in these sheets again” he flirts as he smiles at you, deep and round eyes looking directly into yours with something raw behind it all the pleasantry. You and Jack had slept together, he was as sweet as a friend with benefits could be.

“I think I’m going crazy” you say aloud and he titters before propping his leg up on your bed and resting his head on it sideways; leaving the bloody, mangled, and mutilated part of his skin open and hot against the air.

Jack catches your gaze and seems unable to resist the comment that comes from his mouth. “No fucking way” he laughs. You back yourself up against the headboard and pull your comforter with you, holding it defensively to your mouth and you give a startled look that quickly turns to anger. “What?” You snap out, a lot higher pitched than you wanted to, that made you sound more like someone caught with a porno mag and less like you were genuinely confused.

The look he gives you is a recognizable one, but it feels so alien at the same time. He starts to gently crawl towards you on all fours, in a way he knows you like to see. Feigning that innocence to how you feel just to hear you say it out loud because he mocks you even in death.

“Now, you wouldn’t be feeling a little turned on about how battered I am now would you, sweetness?” He asks, as irreproachable as possible while the pet name sticks to you despite how mockingly he says it. When you’re left gawking, he only gets closer to your face. “Because” pause. He drags one hand up across your covered leg. “If this was the face you wanted all along, I would’ve requested open casket”

Jack gets scarily close. So much so you can now make out minute details. His hair is slicked stiff with blood and sweat, black tufts of hair poke out messily. He smells of grass and mud, but only faintly; what stands out the most is the pheromones reeking off of him that would typically reek, but currently have you biting the inner skin of your bottom lip as the fingers of his left hand dance curiously across your knee.

His fingers have blood crusted under the nails and you sit there entranced by the carnal beauty of it all. Jack smiles to himself and takes it as an opportunity to trace your lips with his calloused fingers. Typically, he’d be a blushing mess and if he were still completely alive he’d never be so bold with someone.

Only difference this time is that he wasn’t alive, not fully; and that it was you. The amount of times he’d been almost caught with you on him has surpassed his count, and sure as hell yours. However the word almost really means David and when it comes to David, he’s got an amateur sleuth mindset and can unfortunately piece two and two together.

Unthinking, you open your mouth and feel as Jack pushes his index and middle finger over your tongue. Your tongue swirls around the pads of his fingers, feeling every ridge, scar and delta. A gummy clot of blood that was caught in the corner of his cuticle touches your tongue and you suck even harder.

Jack’s eyes become lidded, he looks at a random spot in your direction for a few moments, feeling the work of your mouth against his hands once again and in such a grisly manner makes his stomach burn.

Softly he pulls his fingers away from your mouth. He rests his hands on either side of you and puts his mouth close to your ear. “How about you shut the light off and we try that thing you’ll deny wanting to do” he whispers before he bites and tugs on the lobe of your ear before pulling away.

You push the blanket off of you, the plush of your thighs visible to Jack as you walk towards the light switch.

When the darkness floods the room, you’re left in wait for Jack, just as you were in life. When nothing happens for a few seconds you think you’ve gone crazy and you’re too afraid to turn around and see that he’s really not there.

The beautiful blue hue of the moon sets over your shoulders and the cool air brushes against your neck. The hairs prick up as the cool feeling leaves ghosts of kisses against your skin.

“Still here” Jack says quietly against the shell of your ear. You turn around to face him and he flicks the light on again, temporarily blinding you. “ M’ sorry” he says as his kisses become full and wet mouthed against your neck “changed my mind, jus’ wanted to see you walk away”

He buries himself there and you feel him smile before his teeth graze against you. The blood gushing from his wounds starts to slick your neck. This doesn’t stop him, he kisses and nips harshly on your veins and feels the pulse thrumming beneath it.

It’s like he can’t control himself. There’s something so deeply carnal and vulnerable about how he is now; as many times you’ve put yourself on him, nothing can compare to the sweetness of his blood covered lips against yours.

His teeth are digging deeply into your neck, a small pain blossoming from his teeth nipping at your skin. Your eyes shut and a breathy exhale leaves your lips. Jack smiles, like he always has, into your skin and comes up to give you a kiss. The sweet and metallic taste of his lips on yours leaves you utterly intoxicated like the first taste of absinthe.

If you had to compare it though, he’s much sweeter. And warmer. So much warmer.

Jack’s mouth has suddenly gone away from the short and innocent kisses and have transformed into heavily pressed attacks scattered across anywhere collar up. His skin is comfortingly thermic and at this point you have no choice but to fall back into the dizzying heat as Jack touches you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, and it may very well be.

His hands are ever moving and constant. There’s a searing palm resting between your neck and ear. The free hand wanders continuously over your waist to the back of your thigh. Your hands move without your own permission and begin to unzip the green puffer jacket that’s half shredded and half covered in blood.

You hope that if he decides to leave, you can keep the jacket. Even just a piece to remember him by. It was a group purchase around the holidays one year, when David gifted you both an identical jacket similar to his red one. Yours was an absolute eyesore, but the mundane routine of wearing it all the time made the shade entirely your own.

You gently push Jack away from you and get to look in his eyes. You get to see the humanity tucked behind them as his clouded lust quickly turns into the sheepish look of a boy scolded by a schoolmarm. Even though you’re still entranced by just seeing him again after having to say goodbye before Europe and a second time to a piece of wood. Part of you wants to remain this illusioned forever, so that you can hold onto him even if he decided long ago to let go of you; because at this point all you have is a hideous puffer jacket and dinner receipts of a meal you paid for stuffed in your otherwise empty wallet. Suddenly the doe eyes and boyish smile disappear. A misstep.

“Guess kissing a corpse wasn’t on your bucket list, huh?” He chides with an awkward laugh but you know Jack better than that, and he’s being vulnerable. Pressed against the door of your room, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck; careful to leave the wound be, and as he looks at you; you knock your foreheads together and you press a small kiss to his lips and bump noses. “Could’ve gone for that one actor you like so much” you say, another kiss. “I’ll put in a good word for you” kiss.

Jack pushes his mouth closer to you without much thought, and it leads to some of the blood on his neck smearing on your arm. Suddenly the blaze in Jack’s eyes comes back and you grin.

Jack sticks his hand in the wound like it’s as normal as scratching an itch and a small amount of the blood comes onto his fingertip. He cups your face with the same hand, mindful of his bloody thumb. Your eyes dart between the pad of his thumb, that Jack pushes ever closer to your mouth; only waiting for permission to push it through.

There would be no coming back from it and you both know it. Jack has nothing to lose, while you’re teetering on the line between sanity and lunacy. The comparison of Eve and the apple comes to mind; any other lustful sin could be forgiven, but to feast upon the flesh and to consume the marrow of a ghost? Should this be a test from whatever divine figure that hates you enough to manifest your dead fuck buddy, you were bound for damnation surely. Your lips part.

Your mouth sours with saliva before you can truly taste. Then it hits you. The succulent, metallic taste sinks onto your tastebuds and you hope that Jack’s blood remains there until the end of your days. The splotch of scarlet forever stained on your tongue like ink upon papyrus so that any lover you may take after Jack knows they can’t compare because they won’t come this close.

You flick the light out, for good this time, and guide Jack to your bed. He waits patiently as you crawl in first. He waits by the edge with bated breath and glances at the full moon for but a moment. You poke your leg out over the bed and poke him with your foot and he pounces at you. The shirt that was tucked underneath his puffer coat has minimal damage compared to the rest of him. You sit up and drag it off of him and he instead goes for ripping the fabric off like it’s burning him.

You’re doing the same to your own and Jack is immediately kissing on every inch of your skin, there's a desperation that is unlike anything you’ve ever known. After you’ve both wriggled out of every piece of clothing and left slobbering wet kisses across chests and lips you start to get to the most sinful and carnivorous part of the night.

Jack’s pumping himself and whimpering all sorts of filth at you as you kiss around the lines where skin meets meat. “Please, honey, I want you to, I do, c’mon” Just one bite. He needs it, he needs to know he’s good. “You can’t hurt me” he whispers, strained.

Your teeth graze the saccharine flesh before you sink into the hot and dewey meat. Jack’s warmed up intensely, the heat rolling off of him in the moonlight in thick clouds of white. Jack shudders and you begin to let go immediately “Fuck, no, keep going” he says, lowering his neck on you more as his fingers begin to grace around you.

When you fully sink in again, there’s a burst of an unfamiliar flavor that hits you so hard you hope it doesn’t immediately get you hooked and desperate like morphine. You pull and tear and suck upon him but it doesn’t change anything. The difference between the living and the undead is that while you’re aching and getting the relief of Jack’s feast upon your body, wether it be by biting or pumping into your core, Jack is unchanging until time wants him to. You’re glad you were blessed enough to have him presented as you remembered, just a bit more banged up. Deliciously so.

You’re happy you can be close to him again, like this. Nothing else in the world but the two of you. For however long he’s tied to this plane, you want to take advantage of it all and you will greedily keep him here until he’s forced to go. So you bite, you bite and rip and chew like it’s the last way you’ll ever love anyone ever again. You wrap your hands into his hair and dig your nails into his scalp and all he does is smile at you and whisper your name he keeps his pace thrusting inside of you. When you pull away to meet his eyes, the glint of the night rests in his irises.

You imagine you must look like something positively cryptid. His blood smothered across your mouth, a toothy smile in his direction like a fox in a henhouse. He doesn’t say anything, he merely places a kiss on your mouth and breathes heavily across your lips. “ M’ close, honey” he says, as thoughtful as ever, and that’s how you know this has to be real; previous thoughts be damned, werewolves, ghosts, lawyers? All real.

You know this Jack Goodman is yours because even after being mauled to death and abandoned, after having to tell his best friend that he has to die, and after finding himself in your bed again and being accepted with open arms, he still tells you when he’s about to cum.

“I’ll take it as a bereavement gift” you say and he simply rolls his eyes and says “you talk too much” you tug at his pulled apart skin again before falling back into the sheets. Biting your lip and wrapping your legs around his core, you hold Jack’s head as he buries it in your neck and presses his forehead in the nape of your shoulder to watch himself go in and out for a few strokes before he pulls back and kisses you hard. You don’t open your mouth quick enough and your teeth collide painfully for a second and Jack giggles an apology against your lips as he continues his thrusts.

He pushes you back into the pillows with his weight and he moans into your shoulder. The perfect cadence of sound in your ears and after he stills for a moment you can feel the pulse of his cock inside you as he cums.

Ever the overachiever, he pulls out quickly and places his bloodied mouth in between your legs. The blood of his neck laceration rubs slick and loud against your thigh coating every pore and marking.

He puts his mouth on your clit, just like you taught him. He twirls his tongue around and even tries murmuring out something to dirty talk you, but he gets so pussy drunk it’s nearly impossible to hear what he’s saying.

He takes care not to get a mouthful of his own cum, his fingers going at a pace that you can hear even buried in the pillows.

Once again your hands find his hair and you push him deeper into your clit and Jack, always the good boy, obliges and tongue fucks you even harder.

Your legs lock around his head as you cum and he lets out a hum as you do. Your hips snap forward and he rides it out. Once you’ve come down a bit, he presses a few kisses to your thighs before going up to join you.

“Hope birth control covers that”

“Be more surprised if it did, I think”

Jack snickers and lays next to you, fingers trailing up your figure with blankets gathered unevenly around the waist down.

He’s still a human furnace and you eagerly curl up next to him. “Will you be gone tomorrow?” You ask. You expect a melancholy response. “Might go tell David to kill himself, but I’ll be back. Can’t guarantee I’ll be this pretty though” he says.

You just kiss him and close your eyes.

[bumblepart1]

I’m so cringe bro I’m making a 1:18 (was it 14??? I don’t remember) second animation for Henry Stickmin (which btw, the longest animation I’ve ever made was 15 SECONDS. SO.) ITS SO BAD. MY HYPERFIXATION IS SO BAD. ITS ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT BRO. THE FANDOM IS SO DEAD TOO. IM DONE FOR…. I LITERALLY THINK IVE STARTED KINNING CHARLES NO JOKE…. I AM SO DONE FOR……..

[deus-ex-mona]

worming out of awkward conversations l i k e

[monkee-mobile]

okay i’m so so sorry but i need to bite him it would relieve stress

this is a horrible post i’m sorry

[thermesiini]

i always read labels clearly and buy the intended item

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: HE & YOU ON WASH DAY 🫧 (18+) (JJK) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer’s Note: I came up with this little Drabble after seeing a video of a Black girl teaching her white BF how to wash, moisturize, derange & do her hair. It was soooo CUTE & stuck in the back of my head, so I decided to let my inspiration flow. Thank God too cuz i realize i haven’t written a Drabble in literally FOREVER. I’ll make an effort to put out more before 2025 comes. I hope y’all enjoy!

I also tried to incorporate different types of Black hairstyles, textures & types for each character. All comments are welcome on front (but keep it respectful). Thank you & again, enjoy! -Jazz 🥰

*******

GOJO

This man swears he knows what he’s doing.

You’ll admit that Gojo is good at everything: singing, dancing, gaming, cooking, fighting, yapping…especially yapping. He’s also good at being a boyfriend. He is the most attentive, affectionate, loving man you’ve ever met and you’re so grateful to have him—the handsome, sexy, popular Gojo Satoru—as your partner.

He manages to help you with everything else you don’t have enough time to get to or are having trouble with, such as cooking and cleaning. What’s the difference between that and washing your hair, he wonders? When you tell him that your hair is much different and requires a traditional regime that could last HOURS, Gojo just waves you off.

“Baby, c’mon,” he scoffs, holding you in his lap and squeezing you to him as if you’ll disappear. “Don’t you know who I am? I’m good at everything. You think I can’t help you out with your pretty hair?” He gives you a big, confident, gigawatt smile that makes you melt.

“You sure?” You ask, your arms wrapped around his neck as he places his hands on your hips. He rocks you in his arms like you’re his baby…which you are. He always shows that any chance he gets. “‘Cause it’s a job, ‘Tarou. My hair isn’t like yours.”

Gojo scoffs, running a hand through the maze of dark kinky twists that is your hair. “Obviously,” he chuckles. “And I love that. I love your hair and I wanna help you take care of it! C’mon, what’s the rocket science in washin’ hair?”

But that self-assurance and cockiness quickly fades when you show him all the products you use for your hair, explaining each one in great detail. Then you show him the proper way to wash your hair which results in him getting water all over himself and the floor. Then, once you’re done, you try to show him how to detangle, moisturize, and cornrow your hair with a comb but to also rely on your fingers to do the work.

By the time you finish, you do most of the work while Gojo sits there looking like you just tried to explain to him why the Earth is flat. Poor baby’s blue eyes are so wide that you’re afraid they’ll roll out of his skull. He is down in the dumps afterward, snuggling into your chest. “I’m sorry, babe,” he mutters into your boobs. “I fucked up. I’m no good at this shit.”

You coo to him, running a hand through his white locks. “Satoru, baby, it’s not a big deal—“

“Yes the fuck it is!” He protests, sitting up to look at you. “You’re my girlfriend! I should know how to do your hair! But don’t worry; I’m gonna learn all about this if it fuckin’ kills me.”

And he makes you hold him to that. Not the type to give up or give in, Gojo spends the next week learning everything there is to know about Black hair: your type of hair; how to take care of it; if creams or oils work best to keep it moisturized; how to cornrow for beginners, etc. You let him drag you to the hair supply store to buy products and practice on you, giggling to yourself about how cute he is trying to do all of this for you.

After two weeks, you and Gojo go for round two. This time, you let him take the reins washing your hair. He is attentive and delicate with your hair, his long fingers scrubbing and massaging the shampoo in. You find yourself sighing at the feeling, melting at his touch. “You like that, baby?” He asks among the running water.

Chuckling when you hum in agreement, he presses a kiss to the back of your neck as you stand bend over the sink. “Y’know, I could always relax you more with somethin’ else,” he whispers.

That’s when you feel his very obvious hard dick pressing against your ass. You gasp, reaching back to swat him. “Gojo!” You whine. “You freak!”

“What?” He protests, grinning. “Ya can’t blame me for gettin’ hard by this! You look hot with your natural hair, babe, and runnin’ my hands through it is even better. It’s so soft and pretty, like you!” He grinds his hips into your ass, giving you a feel of the hot bulge pressing against his sweatpants. And you know he’s free-balling, the slut. No boxers at all!

“Y’know,” he says, his voice sultry and teasing, “all I have to do is pull these little shorts down and—“

“Uh-uh!” You shout, tossing some soapy water at him. He dodges it effortlessly. “Not while you’re supposed to be helpin’ me, asshole! Now maybe if you do a good job with my hair, we can do somethin’ about your very big problem.” You bend over the sink again, giggling when you brush your ass against Gojo’s hard dick and emit a groan from him.

And ‘do a good job’ he does, surprisingly. After you wash and condition your hair with his help, Gojo sits you down between his long legs and towel dries your hair before helping you successfully moisturize and plat it in small, wet cornrows going down your scalp.

This takes about an hour and during it all, Gojo is patient and loving with your hair. He detangles each knot with a comb, delicately threads each strand of hair, and doesn’t complain about how long it takes.

And you fall more in love with him during that hour.

Once done, he sits on the edge of the bed like a patient dog waiting for its treat while you admire his work in the mirror. After a few seconds, you slowly turn to him and smile. “Not bad,” you comment. “Not bad at all.” He breaks out into a gigantic grin. “I told you!” He laughs before yanking you over.

You giggle as you fall into him, straddling his lap. “Now, what’s about you doin’ somethin’ about my ‘very big’ problem?” He whispers, grinding his hips up into yours. Sure enough, he’s still hard. Pressing a slow kiss to his lips that steals your breath, you sneak your hands down to untie his sweats. “Let me show you,” you whisper. “After all, you did just a good job for me.”

Many hours later, after making him cum his brains out down your throat and putting you into the mattress, Gojo wants to be part of your wash days ALL THE TIME now.

CHOSO

This cutie patootie wants to know everything and anything about your beautiful hair. He loves it soooo much!

He loves staring at it and watching how it glows in the sunlight. He loves how bouncy your curls are when you walk. He loves running his hands through it when you kiss (though most of the time, he’s afraid to touch it in fear of ruining it).

Any time he catches you sitting in the bathroom doing your hot oil treatment, he asks so many questions:

“Why do you need to wear that big-ass helmet?”

“If you use hair grease and hair oil, won’t that oversaturate your hair?”

“How do you do this every single day? Doesn’t that get tiring?”

“Why don’t you let me help you one day?”

You love your hair too. It took you years to grow and maintain it, so you take your long, bouncy curls very seriously. So you have your own regime, especially when drying and setting your hair once it’s clean.

When you explain all of this to Choso at the hair supply store, the man looks like you’re trying to explain another language to him. “What does ‘set’ mean?” He asks as you drag him to the hair care aisles. “What does that have to do with washing your hair?”

“No, no, no,” you hurriedly say, searching the shelves for that one scalp grease that you always use. You ran out, so that’s why you dragged Choso out of the house to go get more plus a new bonnet and a comb because your favorite one broke.

“That comes AFTER I wash my hair. ‘Setting’ means sectioning and putting my hair in curlers so they come out the way you like.”

Choso stops with his hand still in yours, standing between some shelves of creams and some shelves of shampoo. You turn to him, confused. “What? Baby, you agreed to help me! We’re losin’ daylight here!”

You motion to the outside where the sun is shining and the sky is blue. “The way I like?” Choso parrots. You blink, perplexed. “You said you set your hair so it comes out how I like,” he clarifies. “Do you not like it when your hair comes out another way?”

He cocks his head to the side, his pierced brow quirked slightly. You feel yourself grow hot with embarrassment in his black hoodie that you “borrowed” (stole, but he gave it to you anyway, loving how it looks on you instead) from him.

“Uh…w-well, no girl likes it when her hair doesn’t come out right,” you mutter. “I just like it when my hair looks pretty…y’know…sexy.”

Choso’s expression softens, making him look so much like a soft-eyed teddy bear despite his tattoos and piercings. He is aware of your slight love-hate relationship with your hair when it’s not ‘hair-ing’ right.

You love it when your curls are the right length and bounce. It makes you feel so feminine and sexy. Sexy enough to let Choso pull on them during sex and run his fingers through it during a sloppy, slow make-out session.

Not when it’s frizzy. Not when you just get it wet and it shrinks back to its natural itty-bitty kinks. Not when it’s—

“Stop it.” As if he can hear your thoughts, Choso puts his hands on your shoulders and gently coaxes you to look up at him. Into his pretty, gray eyes. “You know damn well I love your hair no matter what it looks like,” he softly says. “You should too, babydoll. Don’t sweat that shit.”

He takes your hand and puts it on his head, right between his spiked ponytails. “You think I give a fuck about what my hair looks like all the time?” He asks, smirking.

You cluck your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “Yeah,” you mutter, “but you’re a guy! And Black hair is much different than yours. A-And there’s so many different types and—Mmph!”

You moan in surprise as Choso’s lips suddenly press against yours, silencing you. His lip ring pushes against your bottom lip, cool and enticing. It grounds you.

When you pull away, he brushes your nose with his in an Eskimo kiss—one thing he only does in private because of how “cutesy” it is. “You feel better now?” He asks. You nod, winded from his kiss.

“You gonna let me buy you your shit and not have a panic attack in the middle of the store?” He asks. Once again, you nod, a smile stretching onto your lips.

“And you’re gonna remember you’re my pretty little girlfriend no matter what, right?” He whispers, sliding a hand against your ass as you both start to walk again.

You nod, wrapping your arm around his waist. “Mmm-hmm,” you shyly hum. “And you’re my hot little boyfriend.” You slide your hand down to his ass, squeezing it.

Choso blushes hot red, tsking. “I’m not little,” he grunts, making you laugh.

GETO

Admittedly, Geto has never thought too much about hair….that is until he met you.

He couldn’t get enough of your beautiful, long braids that swayed in the breeze. How they accentuated all of the shapes, lines, and features of your pretty face. How you wore it up, down, twisted…even braided! He didn’t even know you could braid braids! But when you showed up on your first date with the black coils in one big French braid, he was sold as yours and yours alone.

He didn’t know you could wash braids too without taking them out, but now he does. When he comes home from running errands (gym and picking up some lunch), he hears the shower running and you humming to Giveon, which means you're still washing your hair.

He smiles, placing the paper bag of stir fry and your favorite drink on the counter. “Baby!” he calls. “Food’s here!” He takes off his shoes and puts them at the door, just about ready to get some water after his vigorous workout when he hears something fall and your pretty voice yelp in pain.

“Ow!” you shriek. Geto quickly springs into action, running up the steps in his polo socks and gym shorts. He nearly slips across the floor and breaks his neck when he gets to the bathroom. “Baby?” he calls. “Baby, what happened? Did you fall?”

You're standing in the shower in your soaked bra and panties, sudsy, foamy shampoo running down your braids. “No, worse!” you groan, holding your left eye. “I got shampoo in my eye! God fuckin’ dammit, that burns!”

You try to grab a towel, but Geto stops you. “Uh-uh, don’t move,” he orders. “Let me do it." He helps you out of the running shower and holds your wet braids back for you. "Lean your back head.” You do so and he wets a washrag before dabbing it on your eye.

After a minute, your eye stops stinging and you're able to open it. Geto dabs away water and soap dripping down the side of your face. “Bad hair wash day, I’m assuming?”

You nod, huffing in embarrassment and frustration. “One of my braids smacked me in the face and I almost went blind. This is usually a messy job, so I do ‘em in the shower.”

Geto stares at you in confusion, puzzled by what you mean. “So you...wash your braids?” he curiously asks. “How does that work?” He looks like a puppy being taught a new trick and you find it so endearing.

“Oh, you just massage the shampoo in the scalp and down the braids,” you explain, motioning to your scalp. “It gets the gunk from hair product and dirt out. Then I put my braids down to let the water wash everything out.” You sigh, rubbing your sore forearm. “My arms are so tired though,” you groan.

You've been at this for almost an hour now since Geto left to run errands and have barely gotten through it yet. Then you still have to blowdry your braids to make sure your entire scalp is dry which makes another whole hour. Noticing the stressful look on your face, Geo decides he doesn' like i and wans o help his baby a any cos. “Lemme help you then.”

You blink a him, watching as he takes off his socks and begins washing his hands under he showerhead. “What?!” you exclaim. “Sugu, baby, no, i-it’s fine! It’s not a two-person job and you’ll get your clothes all wet and—“

“Who said anythin’ about clothes?” he cuts in. He gives you a humored smile as he begins to peel off his white tank top. “That’s a silly thought, but a cute one.” Flashing his pearly whites at you, he strips off his shirt, revealing his perfectly-defined, toned upper and lower torsos. Your eyes roam over his squeezable pecs, both nipples pierced, big, inked arms, washboard abs, and cut V-line and sides littered in tattoos. He’s truly a beautiful specimen, your boyfriend.

As he tosses his shirt to the side, you suddenly don’t want to wash your hair anymore. Instead, you’d like to wash Geto’s delicious body, see it drip with water and soap, and then do it all over again because you end up fucking each other instead. “B-but…your hair,” you weakly protest. “It’ll get all wet.”

Geto smiles, pulling a hairband out of his pocket and tying his long hair up in a bun. That only arouses you more. “Hush, my love,” he coos, pressing a finger to your lips. You resist the urge to suck on it. “Don’t worry about me—worry about these gorgeous braids.” He takes your hand and guides you into the shower. While you stand near the running water, he stands behind you, making your entire body feel hot and tingly. “Just tell me what to do.”

The hair-washing process only happens for about ten minutes. As soon as you feel Geto’s thick fingers massaging your scalp and running through your braids, gentle and careful, your pussy flips into overdrive and gushes in your panties. Soon, your undies come off, Geto’s shorts come down, and hands are roaming over body parts and skin. Lips are on lips, tongues are swirling together, his hands are on your ass, and yours are all over him.

Soon, that somehow leads to him picking you up and fucking you against the shower wall, your moans swallowed up by the water and Giveon playing on your phone. His cock drives deliciously in and out of you as his hips grind against yours, your legs and arms tightly wrapped around him. “I didn’t know this was a part of your routine, baby,” he pants in your ear. “But if it is, count me the fuck in.” His hand is in your hair, your braids wrapped around his fist. “Want me to tug ‘em harder, mama?”

“Yes!” You desperately shout. “Yes, Sugu, please! I’m so close!” You can feel your cunt spasming around him, your hand slipped between you and him to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. Geto picks up the pace, his yummy moans and grunts filling the steamy shower as he pounds your pussy against the shower wall. “Pull my hair,” he pleadingly says. “Do it hard, baby. I’m ‘bout to cum too.”

You do as he says and dig your fingers into his hair, tugging on the wet, black locks. He groans at the feeling, his eyes fluttering shut and his handsome face screwed in ecstasy. Seeing him like that makes you cum instantly, a high-pitched moan of his name leaving your lips.

His own orgasm is triggered too and quickly pulls out before cumming in unison with you all over your thighs and the shower wall. His lips swoop yours up in a hot, slow tongue-kiss that makes your intense orgasm that much more explosive as your body loses tension and you feel like mush.

Finally, Geto pulls away, his eyes hooded and a lazy smile on his face. “Oh, look,” he chuckles. He points to your wet braids and his dripping hair. “All clean.”

NANAMI

He can’t get enough of your Afro.

Seriously. He stares at it any chance he gets. On his free time, when he isn’t working or telling Gojo to leave him alone, Nanami is calculating the circumference of your perfectly-round, full Afro and how long it takes you to get it in such a perfect, round shape. How does it defy gravity the way it does? Does it ever deflate? What do you do to make it so soft? He often wonders this when you allow him to touch it. He feels so blessed that you bestow such an honor to him.

He realizes later that maintaining such a beautiful hairstyle is a lot of work. One day, on a boring Sunday that is meant as your “self-care” day, he watches you as you sit near the kitchen sink in a chair, your thick hair sectioned into four parts with scrunchies. He’d laugh at such the cute yet silly look you’ve got going on if you didn’t look so sad and defeated doing it. You’ve only gotten through one part, washing it by hand with shampoo.

Wanting to make things easier for his love, Nanami moves behind you and wraps his arms around you from behind. “You look so tired, my love,” he sighs. “Why don’t you let me help you?” You look up at him, confused. Nanami has watched you wash your hair a couple of times to know what you do and what you use.

He first coaxes you to stand up and turns the chair around so you’re facing away from the sink. After filling the sink up with warm water, he rolls his sleeves up to his forearms, much to your liking, and lathers his hands up in your favorite lavender-mint-rosemary shampoo. He takes one part of hair out of your scrunchie and proceeds to scrub it, lathering it in the soap. He does the same to the others, massaging your scalp in the process.

Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his skillful and careful hands in your hair, your body relaxing in your chair. “Oh,” you moan. You haven’t had anyone wash your hair for you since your mother when you were young. And to have your partner, who isn’t Black, do such a good and careful job with your hair is such a sweet gesture of your kind of love language.

“That feels nice?” He asks, happy to hear the sound. You press your lips into a thin line, humiliated by the sound slipping out of your mouth. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he chuckles. “I want you to relax. Wash days should be relaxing, not…” He pauses, searching for the right word.

“Fuckin’ stressful?” You offer, sighing as the warm water cascades over your scalp. “Yeah, but you’re not the only carryin’ around a big ass ball of hair on your head.” Nanami laughs, pressing. Kiss to your forehead. “A beautiful ball of hair, actually.” He works the water through your hair from root to tip, taking gentle care of each strand of your hair. You melt into his touch, falling in love with him deeper and deeper.

Once he finishes washing your hair, he empties the sink of all of the water and tells you to lean back so your hair can drip into the sink. “This actually kinda feels like a spa,” you giggle. Maybe you can give me a massage after this.” Nanami chuckles, flinging the water and suds off of his hands before chastely kissing you on the lips. “Let me get the towel.”

You keep your eyes closed as he leaves and quickly returns with a towel. First, he lathers your hair up in conditioner, gently massaging your scalp with the thick, creamy, floral-scented substance. Then, suddenly, you feel something cold over your eyes and hear the sound of relaxing flute music playing from somewhere. “What are you doin’, sir?” You giggle.

You feel Nanami’s lips ghost over your ear, sending chills down your spine. “Shh, no talking at the spa” he whispers. His hands are firm yet gentle as they press into your temples while your hair drips into the sink. “Can I get you a drink, miss? Perhaps you’d want massage here?” He begins to trail his fingers down your neck, each place his fingers touch leaving a trail of fire. “Or maybe…here?”

He trails down to your shoulders, giving you a firm rub. As he does, your nipples harden beneath your sports bra and your sweats suddenly feel entirely too tight. “You’re getting warmer,” you purr. A soft, seductive hum comes from Nanami’s throat that drives you insane as his hands trail down to your chest.

“You mean…here?” He gently cascades his hands over your breasts, brushing against your hard nipples beneath the thin material of your sports bra.

His hands then go back up to your shoulders, teasing you. You whimper, desperate for attention. “That’s not fair,” you whine. “You’ve got me all warm now.” Your boyfriend chuckles, his fingers kneading your shoulder muscles. “I thought that was the point.” He suddenly pauses. “Or…do you mean…”

You take the cold compress (which you find is an eye mask) off of your eyes to look up at your man and slowly move your hand to cup his cock. To your joy, you find that he is semi-hard. Nanami tuts but keeps your hand on his dick. “Miss, this is very improper for a spy,” he says, mock-offended. He leans down toward you, his minty breath fanning across your face. “But I suppose I could make an exception for you.”

He leans in closer, closer, and you think he’s going to kiss you. You lean up, desperate for his lips on yours. “After I condition, dry, moisturize, and grease your hair,” he adds. He turns the water on again and puts the eye mask back on your eyes. “What?!” You squeak. “Kento, nooo, pleeeease!” Your pussy throbs in desperate, insisting that he touches you right here, right now.

Nanami presses a finger to your lips, silencing you. “No whining,” he says. “Besides, all good things come to those who wait, my love.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before you feel the warm water on your hair rinsing out the conditioner. “Now enjoy your spa session.”

You do. You enjoy all of the work Nanami does on your hair, including what you instruct him to do. But truth be told, you enjoy the work he does on your body two hours later in the comfort of your bedroom.

With your hair safely wrapped up in a towel and bonnet for extra protection, your leg is tossed over Nanami’s broad shoulder as his hips piston into yours, his cock stroking your insides and his fingers teasing your clit. “Told you good things come to those who wait,” he grunts. “Are you gonna cum for me now?”

You vigorously shake your head, staring up with heart eyes at the handsome blonde above you. “N-No!” You whimper. “Not until you say, Daddy! I promise!”

Nanami smiles and presses a kiss to your ankle that nearly has you combusting all over the sheets. “That’s my good, pretty girl.” Your boyfriend has now become a new and important addition to your wash days.

[tubbytarchia]

Thoughts on the dynamic between TIES Tango and BB Jimmy? Or even the silly rivalry they have in SL? There’s just so much adorable fluffy potential there and I’m just 💭

- 🧚🏼‍♀️

YOU'RE RIGHT THERE IS AND I LOVE THEM. SL ranchers are SO cute and precious its off the charts. Limited Life however...

Ok drawing that hurt a bit so I'm immediately following up with this

Limited Life is so carefree in general it's SO fun and probably the least angst material out of any of the Life series to me (of course there is still plenty, can't underestimate the traffic fandom's ability to find angst in everything) including Tango and Jimmy. They're so fun and you're right that it's a lot of fluff potential, mostly because Jimmy being a "bad boy" is so funny. BUT THE, MAN. TH The fact that this is the one after DL, after Jimmy so desperately wanted to apologize to Tango for how they went out and who knows if he got to do that or not. I love the idea of them reuniting in some temporary afterlife game or dark void following their deaths, but also what if they didn't get to talk... maybe it was only Tango's distant messages "you're still here? It's over. Go home. Go" that reached him and then he just didn't dare to talk about it other than the one time he instinctually called him "rancher" again. I can't help but be filled with angst when I think about LimL ranchers but I trust that where there is angst, hurt/comfort is sure to follow.... If not then I just die I guess

The bad boy sunglasses are very convenient to hide the look with which he gazes upon Tango from a distance... But then oop Tango hops through the nether portal on top of bad boy mansion and Jimmy decides to go for it, to try and harken back to how they used to be to gauge how Tango will react when he goes "The boogie's being chosen, you're here with us now, we have to look into each other's eyes!" (paraphrasing) and then he's like "oh Impulse is here too" lmao and then that's just kinda it. And then TIES blows up bread bridge and auughhghhh you know??? I'm so bad at expressing how I feel, sorry this is a ramble. But I love them so very dearly and I could absolutely imagine inconspicuous moments between them. Like whenever I think of potential LimL rancher fluff my mind goes to this one fanfic about Jimmy being sleep deprived and he just kinda ends up at TIES and Tango puts him to sleep. Stuff like that

And idk what more to say about Secret Life. Their little rivalry is so funny and literally idk if it's the fanart that has absolutely fucked with my head but every time I think about them I imagine them awkwardly flirting on complete accident and just being kind of weird but. very lovable. They had only two notable interactions and those two interactions left me permanently deranged

ANYWAY THANKS FOR THE ASK ANON

[thecr0w]

Home

p.1, ~1k words

ghoap/nanny reader, in which shes roped in to care for a poorly johnny who just wants his big family :(

[tags/cw; dubcon, noncon, breeding, use of alcohol, implied death, threats of violence, overall weird and creepy johnny, actually deranged johnny, simon’s off his rocker, blackmailing, ect.]

AAAAAAAAA i’ve been thinking about this for literally so long, im sorry it’s so so short i just needed to get it out :( it’s my first big-girl fic, and the first part. thanks @ceilidho for letting me spit this idea to you! btw, NOT beta-read. im sorry.

It was a gloomy day when you got the news you would lose your job, something about budget cuts and lack of funding. It was gloomy again, a month later when you found yourself short on rent. Cold, cloudy and gray when you got your eviction notice. No warnings, just a handwritten letter commanding your evacuation in a months time. Signed by your landlord. Nights of manic panic, rushing to pack and overwhelmed with the prospect of selling all your worldly possessions to afford a shitty motel room seemed to fly by.

The dim light of your phone illuminated your dark bedroom, scrolling through a less than ideal advertising website, reduced to this after exhausting all other resources. Rejection email after rejection email piled up in your inbox, fueling your anxiety like no other.

You scanned the listings, some odd and some underpaying labor jobs littered across the page. Suddenly, bold black letters flashed across your screen. It states simply, ‘Live-in nanny needed to assist first time dad. Give me a ring.’ This has to be a scam. It’s too good to be true, a job and a place to stay? A smile cracks across your face as you click on the listing. It offers no other information, just a phone number at the bottom of the advert. You think for a second, then decide that you’re out of options completely and this is better than a concrete pillow. Your heart flutters as you punch the numbers in, hesitating just a beat before pressing the green ‘call’ button.

It rings for about a minute, and hope exits your body with every monotone mechanical sound. Voicemail. Fuck. You hang up, groaning as you fall back onto your bed and allow your phone to drift from your clammy hands to your chest. The droning sound of a fan overtakes your thoughts.

Your phone vibrates loudly on your sternum, jolting you upright. The number feels unfamiliar, but you’re certain it’s the one from the nanny listing. You accept the call.

“Yeah?” A gruff voice on the other end greeted, followed by a loud blowing sound, as if he were smoking. You could smell the cigarette through the phone.

“Oh, hi! I’m calling about the nanny ad, I’m very-“

“Have any experience?” He cut you off, blowing sound accompanying his accented voice again.

“Oh yes, I-“

“Right. Meet me at that coffee place ‘round the corner of 5th in an hour.”

The line went silent.

“Um.. okay, see you soon.” you called after, to which you were met with no response. A look at your home screen revealed he had already hung up.

Thirty minutes later, you began your walk to the designated shop. Maybe being early would show some initiative for the job, or maybe it would look pathetic. Your mother always said to show up early to everything, anyway.

The coffee shop is quiet, few patrons sprinkled few and far between the tables and booths. The smell of brewing coffee is so strong it makes you nauseous. The back of your neck tingles and you can feel eyes burning through your skull. You turn to look, and a pair of brown eyes meet yours.

God, if looks could kill.

A tall, wide man tears into you, unmoving in his gaze. Jesus, not even a blink. He sits almost a foot taller than the back of the booth, black surgical mask barely covering an ugly scar etched across his cheek. His hood shadows his face, dark hoodie tight over thick biceps.

Is this guy real?

You blink, gaze faultering and searching for a break from contact. Uneasiness floods your stomach and you contemplate just walking back out and going to bed. He whistles quickly as soon as you turn your head back, motioning with his finger to sit. You follow.

“You must be the dad about the nanny gig? I didn’t catch your name, sorry.”

“Didn’t give it to you.”

You inhale and nod.

“Well, we’re both here a little early.” You look him over in an attempt to find something to connect on. “I like your tattoos.” you try, suddenly finding your hands awkward on the table.

“Can you handle a baby?”

You nod, eyes shooting up to meet his. He hasn’t stopped looking directly into your eyes, and it’s making you nervous. You haven’t seen him blink yet.

“What about a man? Cooking, cleaning? Can you keep the place nice?”

“I can, I used to babysit my neighbors, little cousins. I have a clean record, I don’t drink, and I can keep a nice house.”

He stays quiet for a minute too long, and you’re ready to accept defeat.

“You can have the guest room, I’ll send you your pay at the end of the week. Here’s my number, call me when you’re all packed up and I’ll pick you up.”

“Today?”

“Before next week.”

He slides a napkin across the table to you, smudged ink scribbled over the thin paper. Before you can ask anything else, he’s already sliding out of the booth. He groans loudly as he stretches popping joints, arms extended high in the air. You catch a glimpse of his hairy belly when his hoodie rides up. His eyes meet yours when you hastily look away, and you could swear a smirk hides under that little mask of his.

“Is that all? I’m hired?”

He nods and walks away, never looking back as he exits the cafe. A shiver erupts up your spine, an uncomfortable churning presses in your stomach. Maybe it’s just too weird, maybe you’re being too weird, maybe you’re overthinking something so simple- but he wouldn’t stop staring. A low hiss emanates from the small tv mounted on the wall, catching your attention.

A nature documentary. A panther sits atop a tree, staring attentively at something small on the grassy earth below. A deer flicks its ears, some primal instinct allowing it to be somewhat aware of danger. It flicks its head around, scanning its surroundings for the source. The panther pounces, sinking its sharp fangs into the fragile neck of the doe beneath it.

You look away as the deer begins to bleat pathetically.

[friccafracc]

I’m so sorry bc this is gonna sound insane, but for literal months I have been plagued by the image of Strandy in the situation where Jerma had a UV dick show up on his wall. I cannot stress how VIVID the image of him yelling “get this DICK outta my room!” is to me.

Tried to send this like. Three times over the months but it felt way too deranged so I’m hiding behind anon LOL, I love your art, sorry to cast this blight upon your inbox.

no because this WOULD happen to him specifically...

[kaiserposting]

Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Dog Walking

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 3.2k TYPE: Humor, Bad flirting (it's so bad I don't know if i can call it flirting in good faith), Bad matchmaking (there was an attempt), Rivalry WARNING(S): Canon-typical football derangement, canon-typical behavior EDIT: This got a continuation, yay. And an add-on

Kaiser got it in his head that he has taken a liking to you. This is great and all, not like Ness is gritting his teeth and clenching his fists and getting angry or anything, but- okay, he is.

An obvious reason for his displeasure would be jealousy, but that’s not quite it. Ness thinks it would be entitled and insolent of him to feel any type of way about Kaiser’s personal affairs, so he hasn’t even entertained the notion. The problem is entirely different.

Just like everyone else in Blue Lock, you’re… Kaiser-opposed? Is that the right way to word it? Anyway, the point is, your shitty personality is making his job really hard. Which leads the three of you to this current situation.

“Ow! Ness, what the hell is your problem?!” you shriek, after having tripped and fell. The only reason your face isn’t attached to the floor fight now is because you softened the blow with your elbow.

“I didn’t mean it- I’m so sorry!”

“You didn’t mean it? You literally did it on purpose.”

This isn’t how it should’ve played out, though.

You were supposed to fall right into Kaiser’s arms, but you landed about a step away from him. They even practiced this routine with the others! Granted, no one agreed to it and was rather subjected to it whenever in Ness and Kaiser’s general vicinity, and, no, it didn’t work all the time, but they were just getting the hang of it. (Thankfully, no one sustained any serious injuries, apart from bearing some mental scars after hearing Kaiser say ‘Don’t go falling for me now’ in a wannabe suave tone.)

“Yeah, Ness, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Kaiser adds, before moving to crouch down and help you with a smidge of concern in his expression.

Ness’s eyes widen at the betrayal. Kaiser is such a fake bitch sometimes. Not like he’s going to do anything about it, or even that he minds, but seriously? No shame or decorum is on display here.

You don’t buy it, slapping his hands away. “I bet you put him up to it,” you say, before standing up all by yourself. Then you twist your leg around back and forth for a bit, as if to check how well it’s working, before you eventually lift it high up in the air. “Listen, you tie-dyed toerags.”

Ness flinches because what kind of way to address someone is this? Kaiser crosses his arms, shiteating grin receding into a little frown.

“I’m at my most divine when scoring a goal. You see this?” Your foot is now hovering near their faces while you stretch. This… What is it? A flex? A display? Whatever it is that you’re doing right now, Ness finds it unnerving. “It’s what I use to score. If you did something to take that ability away from me, you’d get pretty bad karma, you know? Angels would cry. Believe me.”

Ness tugs on Kaiser’s sleeve — to remind him he’s supposed to respond instead of just stare at you with a blank, creepy look on his face — and, as filler, says, “You’re very, um, flexible.”

“Yeah,” you say, moving into an even more convoluted position. “I have many attractive qualities. Deserving of being a superstar ace, you know? Dump Kaiser. Pass to me. You’re way too good to play second fiddle, Ness. With me, you won’t be stuck in a Tweedlecum and Tweedlepee dynamic.”

“What?! You- you- you, you, you, yooooou-?! What are you talking about?! I’d never betray him! I’m not joining your circus, clown! Unbelievable! Learn your place already. You never learn,” Ness says in a jumble. For some reason, he’s more offended than Kaiser is.

Here’s the thing about you — you’re insane. A has-an-interesting-psychological-file type of crazy. A hollow-inner-world type of crazy.

A Ness-loves-it type of crazy, as objectionable as he is acting to your offer.

“Calm down. No need to get your panties in a twist over some shitty trash talk,” says Kaiser, placing his hand on Ness’s head, forcing him to lower himself in a slight bow in front of you. Finally, you quit your bizarre movements and assume a more proper stance, while Kaiser leans in closer to you, shifting his gaze in your direction. This leaves Ness to watch you two engage in a round of charged glaring… again. Which is always compromising, but then Kaiser has to run his fingers through his hair, too. “You’re just like a chihuahua that hasn’t warmed up to its owner yet. Your barking doesn’t faze me.”

Your eye twitches at the analogy, face scrunching in an ugly way. “The hell did you just say to me? If I catch you somewhere Ego can’t see me, I’ll give you the beating of a lifetime.”

Instead of responding in a normal way, Kaiser points his finger in your face, almost poking you, twirls it around in a circle, which makes you furrow your brows even harder if possible as you scrutinize him like he’s a lower life form.

“See? Doesn’t bite. Totally harmless,” Kaiser says with a lilt of amusement. Then he swings an arm around Ness’s shoulders and turns him around before pulling him along so they can get away from you.

His tone is convincing enough to give off the impression of winning this verbal spat. However, Ness can’t help but notice that they’re speed walking.

___

When Ness turns around, you’re leaning on the bench with your foot, elbow resting on your knee. He lets out an undignified scream, taking a step back, startled, and even drops his water bottle. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! How come you didn’t make a noise? What are you?”

Kaiser regards the commotion with not even a sliver of curiosity and instead grins after nodding at you in greeting. “Look who came crawling back searching for my company, Ness.”

“I was thinking about that stuff you told me yesterday,” you say.

“Really? And what thrilling conclusion did you come to?” he asks, with sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘thrilling.’

“I’m going to spend my points from goals on taking a day off. Come along with me and we’re gonna fight, preferably in front of a big audience that can watch me humiliate you. By the way, it's a duel, so you can’t decline.”

“Wow, you’re asking me out on a date? Since when are you so adorable? I guess I just can’t reject you when you’re being vulnerable.”

“No one likes delusional men, Kaiser. I’d rather embalm myself and then desecrate my own corpse.”

Kaiser appears to find this amusing or in some way adjacent to flirting because his smile becomes a touch more irritating, but also a bit incredulous. “Crazy fucking bastard. You’ve got unique ways of pretending you’re not into me, though. It’s entertaining.”

“Your mouth is like a dirty urinal. You swear like a preteen who just found out what sixty-nine means, worry about that.”

Kaiser stares at you in shock, jaw hanging slightly open. In your head, you consider this a huge win, since it’s the first time you’ve visibly put him off.

“Keep gaping at me, I might just take a piss.”

“H-How dare you?!” Ness lunges at you, and the only thing to stop him from strangling you on live television — sensational, you like it — is the fact that Kaiser is holding him back by the collar. You find the sight of him swiping his fists in the air vaguely adorable. “How can you say these things? Just in general, let alone to Kaiser?”

You observe him in mild surprise for a second and the sincerity in your expression makes it all the more infuriating when you ask, “Oh, you’re still here?”

___

For once in his life, Ness is being very assertive. At least that’s what you think while he drags you over to their side of the cafeteria, fingers curling tight enough around your wrist to probably disturb your blood circulation.

Kaiser pulls out a chair for you when you come into view, then Ness shoves you so you’re sitting, and Kaiser pushes it back in, causing you to almost double over the table. Ness slides over some kind of fancy meal you can’t even identify in front of you. Kaiser leans down, his hair brushing against you, and then he reaches around your shoulder to aggressively stab one of the slices with a fork. With a perhaps demented smile, he declares, “We’re going to talk about strategy today,” before taking the seat next to yours.

“We’re not going to talk about strategy because I’m not one of your groupies,” you say, picking up on the conversation with ease.

Ness plops down on your other side, apparently having decided he has enough authority to lecture you. “No, no, no! This isn’t working. Isagi does whatever he wants, Kunigami does whatever he wants, you do whatever you want. It’s pure chaos on the field! No synergy! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Join us. If you’re not following,” Kaiser adds, his arm finally receding away from you, “this is a compliment. You’re the one best suited for me, which is a big honor.”

“I have a way better idea. How about I continue doing whatever I want, and by the end of this Neo Egotist League ordeal, you two and everyone else you mentioned sing my name in a choir?”

“Ungrateful,” Ness mutters, petulant.

Kaiser grins, mocking, but also intrigued. “Are you still hanging onto the high of that goal against Barcha? Your ego is unhinged and, honestly, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your type is always the most fun to break.”

Like he’s any different?

The score you landed, though — the one Kaiser is referencing — was what sparked his interest. You jumped in and stole the pass Isagi meant for Kunigami, securing the point right under their noses. Then, you faced Kaiser and took him by the chin like he’d done to Isagi on arrival, and even imitated his introduction, “On your knees, Bastard München,” with inconceivable amounts of smugness.

It was… interesting. Outlandish. A first. Ness berated you and Isagi together, but you kind of walked away in the middle of it without a care.

Here’s the other detail which is keeping Ness’s sanity intact (not like he’s renowned for his mental stability, but): Kaiser taking a liking to you isn’t necessarily a good thing, even if he’s treating you differently than the other competitors. It doesn’t say anything positive about your character, isn’t in any way sentimental — it’s more as if someone held up a mirror in front of him and he began obsessing over his reflection.

“I’m big and you’re small. That’s why you can’t tame me,” you say.

“He’s taller than you!” Ness defends.

“Did the voices in your head tell you that?” Kaiser asks you, and he does not acknowledge Ness’s meager attempt to upkeep his honor.

“I mean it. You think you can brute force everything and bend it to your version of reality. That’s fragile. I don’t mind falling from a high place. It kind of appeals to me, actually, you know, crawling back up, but more beautiful.”

The corners of his lips turn up in a manner you interpret as more baleful than usual. “I don’t know if you’re big or if I’m small or whatever you wanna call it, but what I know for sure is that you’re a melodramatic jerk off.”

“Anyway,” you stand up, taking the plate as you do so, “you don’t think often, so I won’t blame you for calling my internal monologue a hallucination. You can’t help it. Bye.”

___

The locker room is an environment you find ripe for picking fights in. Especially when everyone is tired after a practice match. At least the place is free of anyone besides your usual targets.

“Ness,” you say upon approaching them — they’re always together, it almost seems codependent — and then take a hold of his hand, all beguiling. Kaiser scoffs, apparently not interested in getting into it with you this once, while Ness stares at you doe-eyed. “I think it’s about time you get some dignity.”

“What kind of opening line is that?!” he asks, expression shifting from bashful to irritated.

“He’s just been even more awful to you lately and you’re still attached to his asshole like you’re a part of the human centipede.”

“You made fun of me for swearing, but look at the shit you’re saying right now.”

“I do it sparingly and with style. Please stop trying to compete where you don’t compare.” After a dismissive glance towards Kaiser, you turn your attention back to Ness, letting go of his hand to wrap an arm around his waist. “Anyway, the point is, he’s not acting very appreciative of your talent. I could treat you so much better if you passed to me. We don’t even need to entirely exclude him or anything, I’m a tolerant person.”

“I can see and appreciate Ness’s talent just fine. He’ll stay by my side no matter what.” Ness blushes because that’s kind of an intense statement to make out of nowhere? Kaiser’s fingers curl around his jawline before he pushes Ness’s head into his shoulder. “And I’m going to add you to the roster while I’m at it.”

What the fuck is even going on? Maybe the delusions of grandeur you and Kaiser seem to suffer from are becoming contagious, but it sounds like you two are fighting… over HIM? A more well-adjusted person would probably find this objectifying or otherwise demeaning, but Ness, mostly because of who he is — terminally unwanted — wonders if he’s in heaven right now.

Then again, Ness isn’t an idiot. His ignorance is willful. There’s a cap to the nonsense even he is willing to tolerate. So he lets this feeling of I’ve-never-been-happier linger for a little, your bickering fading into background noise, before he squirms away from both of you.

“I’m tired of how you guys are acting,” he calls over his shoulder.

Kaiser is gawking again. You let out an amused whistle, as if you find this development pleasing, before forcing Kaiser’s jaw closed.

“Don’t talk to me… for the rest of the day,” Ness continues, before leaving. His resolve ends on a weak note, but oh well.

“What the hell? Did Ness just reject me?” Kaiser asks, slapping off your pesky hand. “First you don’t want me, now even Ness doesn’t want me. I’m sick of this wretched place. Everything is all out of whack here.”

You burst out laughing. “Are your sensitive little feelings unable to handle a few hours without him?”

“Shut up,” says Kaiser. There isn’t enough bite in it.

“I can tell whatever tantrum you’re about to have is gonna give me secondhand embarrassment, so I’m gonna go as well.”

You’re not prepared for Kaiser to slam you into the locker and cage you in with his arms. Some vein you don’t know the name of looks very pronounced on his forehead, and you don’t think it’s supposed to be doing that?

You roll your eyes. “Take the hint, your machismo shtick isn’t doing it for me.”

“I’m not trying to make a move on you, shithead. I’m sick of your outrageous attitude as well. What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re always leaving in the middle of conversations, even ones you initiated. Do you know how rude that is? No one ever taught you some fucking manners? What’s your home life like?”

Ignoring whatever he’s even talking about — it’s going in one ear and out of the other as usual — you trail your hands over his shoulders.

“Stop trying to distract me. I’m listing out all of your personality defects.” He’s not really putting up a fight, though, doesn’t even shrug you off when you move onto caressing his neck. “We’re arguing,” Kaiser says, before leaning in to complete the kiss you were trying to pull him into, and finally his hands drop to rest on your waist.

The contact doesn’t last long, since you take the chance to side step him and swap your positions, before you push him into the locker like he’d done to you.

“Little bitch,” you say with a sneer, and then you dash towards the exit, offering a flippant wave. “I leave whenever I want to.”

What the hell!

___

“You’re unforgivable!” says Ness. What did you even do to deserve this attitude right before breakfast? “Stop messing with Kaiser’s head!”

Oh yeah, you did do that. You almost forgot.

“Good morning to you, too. Sleep well?”

Ness crosses his arms and taps his foot. He’s not very good at being intimidating, at least in a visual sense, you think. He has a total babyface. “You’re going to apologize. You’re gonna grovel for Kaiser’s forgiveness.”

“Sure, I take hurt feelings very seriously. Answer these questions for me, so I can apologize better later. Which ear were the words of hurtfulness spoken into? Is the damage he suffered permanent? Did he require a tissue for his tears?”

“I- I- I- I?!?! You piss me off so much. I don’t have the patience for this.” Ness pinches the bridge of his nose as if he needs to soothe himself after exchanging a couple of sentences with you.

“If he doesn’t have a mommy to hug him,” you continue without much of an inflection, “we can look for a surrogate.”

With uncharacteristic vice, he squeezes your shoulders, and he’s gritting his teeth, and you think he really might kill you. Maybe not right now, but at some point, this man is going to take your life. “What’s your problem? You’re a nobody, so why are you so high maintenance? Kaiser is rich, handsome, successful, and a football genius. What more could you possibly want in a boyfriend?”

“Wow,” you say, astonishment at something indeterminate apparent on your face.

Ness waits for you to elaborate, but you don’t, instead opting to scrutinize him in silence. “What? Don’t just say wow and then leave it at that. How can someone be so difficult?”

Your expression shifts into something meaner, then, a mocking raise of your eyebrows, a lop-sided but meaningless smile. “It’s just kind of amazing. You can’t help but ride Kaiser’s dick even while trying to guide it inside of me.”

“Wh-huh… What?!” Ness screeches, scandalized. “How… How crude? You're a vulgar moron! Totally indecent! That’s what you are!”

“I mean, can you blame me for being jealous of that kind of attention? You can do crazy tricks on it.”

“Why are you saying those kinds of things to me?! S-Something’s not right with you.”

You reach out and squish Ness’s cheeks together, leaving his lips to pucker, and you can feel his skin burning. “You’re an amusing guy, Ness. I haven’t decided if I find you pathetic or endearing yet, but I like it.” Then you let go of him as casually as you grabbed him, intending to continue on your merry way.

There are footsteps hurrying after you. “Admit your love to Kaiser already.”

Love? A frightening laugh rattles you. Your body jerks upright and you feel like an evil spirit was just exorcised out of you with how unexpected your reaction was, even to you.

“I know you can’t resist his charms. No one can.”

Kaiser’s… charms? You knew it, he’s trying to kill you.

“And- and- and!!! You’re going to play on our side against Ubers, and you’re going to like it.”

You’re borderline in hysterics now, stomach hurting.

“Stop walking away from me! Are you even listening? You should really listen when people talk to you!”

___

Im still loopy so presented without comment. Feel free to tell me wat you thikn the worst line from this abomination is

[balrogballs]

Just thanking you for drawing Elrond as Lúthien-lookalike and not receding hairline Elrond because I’m so tired of people drawing him like the movies

congratulations on sending me this annoying ass message and thus becoming the reason why I will only ever draw Elrond with a receding hairline and steep widow’s peak from this day forwards 👍🏽

i genuinely do not understand why people have spent almost 25 years being so fucking deranged over this specific thing like what is going on in your life that some random actor’s hair loss trajectory is something you devote any brain space to! there was literally a fucking viral reddit post about elrond hairline discourse this year! why do people care so much! the films are nearly 25 years old!

also i’m sorry but literally every character in the films wore a wig, they would have sorted out his hairline in 2 seconds if they had wanted to (and they clearly lowered it for the Hobbit films when he’s meant to be younger + HW has worn hairpieces in most of his roles so is clearly fine with augmentation) so it was evidently a deliberate choice to keep it like that — and imo it’s a really good one! It’s interesting! He’s still hot! The catholic schoolgirl braids are fun! It’s eldritch! Elrond is old as fuck! He’s a card carrying old coot! Cirdan canonically has a Gandalf beard! Elrond is meant to be half human so ageing isn’t unrealistic anyway! If you had that kind of life you’d lose your damn hair too!

(tldr the guy is fit regardless of hair, i hate that i spent 10 minutes typing this response out re: the most pointless topic known to mankind and fyi the hairline doesn’t even negate the luthien thing, luthien was a woman so obviously she wasn’t going to suffer from male pattern baldness??? 😭)

[whyse7vn]

BOYFRIEND -

[ot7 x reader]

GOLDEN

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

jimin: do you think i can give yeontan body dysmorphia if i show him pictures of those racer dogs??

cuz their like tall and skinny

and he’s like short and round

y/n: this one sided beef is insane

hobi: jimin wtf is wrong with you

tae: LEAVE MY DOG ALONe

he literally bit you once and all you fucking do is talk shit about him

jimin: fucking ugly nepo baby

ur lucky i don’t cook him and feed him to crabs

yoongi: get a grip

jk: guys how does birth control control birth

tae: it kills growing babies in the womb with lazers i think

hobi: what

jk: ok that makes sense

hobi: ?? no it doesn’t

jk: i wish i could control birth

jimin: abortion

yoongi: jungkook should of been

y/n: YOONGI

yoongi: sorry :3

jk: you think i could perform a abortion

jin: preform a shower

jimin: perform a diet

jin: perform a love life

jimin: perform youth

jin: perform a family that actually loves you

tae: woah

namjoon: ok

calculated all our living expenses and we need to cut down a lot

like we spend so much every month it’s not funny

what can we live without?

yoongi: jungkook probably

jin: OUR living expenses?

we do not live together!!!

tae: tf is a living expense?

y/n: is that from our silly little shared black card?

tae: WE HAVE A SHARED BLACK CARD??/!/!

yoongi: you guys still use that??

jk: i use it to rent fish

hobi: you can rent fish?

jk: yeah

i like to set them free

jimin: that feels illegal

jk: i ate one once tho

it was really sad :/

but i was really hungry

hobi: wtf

jimin: i only use that card for netflix and alcohol btw!!!!!

can’t have my accountant thinking i’m an alcoholic

namjoon: whose been using the card to pay for flights?

hybe pays for all our flights i don’t see why we’ve spent over 4 billion won on flights in the last two months when we’ve all been in korea

tae: HYBE PAYS FOR OUR FLIGHTS????

y/n: yeah are you stupid?

tae: SO WHY HAVE I BEEN GIVING JK MONEY EVERY TIME WE FLY?!

jk: is that money not for our lion we sponsored in africa?

tae: our what?

jk: lion

tae: what

jk: roar meow

🦁

that thing

jin: ofc you sponsored a lion in africa

yoongi: meow

y/n: HOLD ON 4 BILLION WON ON FLIGHTS IN 2 MONTHS???????

THATS INSANE??2£:&;&;&(

jk: we did ^_^!!!

our lion is called reggie and i get sent photos of him sometimes

i love him

jimin: i’ll shoot him

jk: TAKE THAT BACK NOW

jimin: i won’t

jk: NAMJOON TELL HIM TO TAKE IT BACK RN

namjoon: jimin take that back rn

jimin: no

namjoon: i tried!

jk: FUCK YOU

tae: you’ve been using my flight money for a lion??????????

jk: yeah!

didn’t know it was flight money tho

thought it was lion money lol

you know hybe pays for our flights right??

tae: stop speaking to me rn

jk: did i say something wrong????

namjoon: anyways

jungkook you need to stop buying fish

jk: who will set them free if i don’t 😰

hobi: SET ME FREEEEEE

namjoon: jimin chill out on the alcohol

jimin: you only live once namjoon

namjoon: it’s actually concerning how much you’ve bought THIS week

it’s for your own good

jimin: sighs

namjoon: and who tf is taking ubers everywhere we do have drivers yk??

not to mention that’s really fucking dangerous

yoongi: lmao what an idiot

y/n: lol 😅😅😅

yoongi: ????are you silly do you know how dangerous that is

ESPECIALLY for you

y/n: but they are so convenient!!!

and our drivers take soooooooo long

think about it if i didn’t take a uber yesterday i would of been late for our thing yesterday

that’s not cool is it???

yoongi: idc

i would rather you be late than dead in a ditch cuz ur uber driver was a deranged fan

y/n: booo

yoongi: next time you call one of our drivers or i’ll come and get you

ok?

y/n: ok

tae: i could come a get you lol

jk: ME TOO

I CAN

I WILL

ILL GET YOU RN

hobi: are you not in the same house?

tae: btw namjoon can’t get you lol

cuz yk he can’t drive

so he couldn’t come and get you

i’m just saying

i’m just putting it out there

someone you fuck doesn’t know how to drive

you should drop him

cuz what if you was dying and needed him asap no newjeans

he couldn’t come

cuz he can’t drive

just saying btw

namjoon: i think she gets it

shut the fuck up

jimin: LMAOOOO

namjoon: moving on whoever ordered a box of steak for 10k needs to give me the fucking card back

hobi: ok wtf

i needed that steak

jimin: who tf orders meat

y/n: that sounds gross as hell i hope it was same day delivery

hobi: i’m a chef in the making

namjoon: ur wasting money on stupid shit

hobi: ur just mad you don’t have a 10k golden stake like..

jin: namjoon ur being stingy ass hell

money is money

and we have a lot of it???

who cares what we spend it on?

jk: all unsponsored lions in africa

they care

namjoon: could you guys just be a little more responsible with our money please

just with this card at least

idc what you buy with ur own money but please for the love of god at least give me false hope in believing you are all responsible adults that can make sensible financial decisions

yoongi: thought he was an atheist

jin: that’s what im saying “for the love of god” do u even know him 😭

hobi: does he even want ur love namjoon?

jk: u wrote a lot of words there joon so i’m not gonna read it

but i hope i can still buy my fish

i’ll even get small ones if that makes you happy

y/n: would getting tae a bbl be a responsible financial decision?

tae: can i actually get the card pls

wait what????????????

y/n: or jimin do you want the bbl

jimin: I DO NOT NEED A BBL WHAT THE FUCK??

namjoon: ….

you guys are really fucking annoying yk that?

jimin: DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT SHE JUST SAID

SHE BASICALLY CALLED ME FLAT!!!!

jk: at least it wasn’t fat!

jin: should of been 😒

jimin: OHMYGOD AM I FLAT??

DO I NEED A BBL GUYS OMGS

pls BE HONEST OMG DO I NEED A FUCKING BBL ?

tae: send pics so i can tell you

jimin: SHUT THE FUCK UP

tae: ok wtf i was only trying to help you :/

namjoon can i have the card pls pls pls pls

namjoon: no

y/n: hey ur not flat!!!!!

jimin: SO WHY WOULD YOU SAY I NEED A BBL????

y/n: i asked if you wanted one

i didn’t say that you needed one

jimin: do you think i’m flat

y/n: no!!!!!

jimin: ohmygod i’m gonna kms she thinks i’m flat

yoongi: can you read

jk: y/n can you come home i’m really sad namjoon just cancelled my fish rental for next tuesday

y/n: namjoon give him back his fish rental

namjoon: no

jk: y/n come HOME

y/n: can’t!

jaehyun says hi btw

jk: TELL HIM TO KILLHIMSELF /£:£;7:7,

hobi: so this relationship is for real???

namjoon: can we not

jimin: look at him getting defensive 💀

namjoon: how was that defensive??

i just don’t want us to all argue again

jimin: you can just say ur jealous joon

namjoon: shut up

tae: i’m jealous

hobi: we don’t care

jin: so like can jaehyun drive?

y/n: he can do a lot of things >\\\<

yoongi: don’t care

jimin: LMAOOOOO

wow this is really the best thing to happen to us

y/n: us???

he’s MY boyfriend

tae: my chest just caved in

jimin: sorry yeah he’s your BOYFRIEND

yoongi: we fucking get it omg

moving on

hobi: HEHEHEHEHEHEHE

yoongi: tf you giggling for

jk: HEY UR NOT ALLOWED TO GIGGLE

UR RULES HOBI 😡

hobi: today is cheat day

i have to giggle

jk: can i giggle?

hobi: y/n has a boyfriend

jk: SHUT UPSSIJ SHUTUOPSOOOO SDKKDDJDJDJDJDMMEJDJDJEJDJJSJEIDJDJSJDJDJDJDJDJDJDJJDDJJCKXJDJKDKX

namjoon: ok can we solve this card issue

tae: can i have the card pls i need to buy something to stop my heartbeat for a while

namjoon: shut up

hobi: y/n does this mean ur friends with nct now

can i like join them??

pls ask

y/n: ok

jin: omg should we have have a party??

nct x bts

yoongi: no

y/n: can you guys stop trying to cause arguments rn

jin: idk what she’s taking about

hobi: right like??

jimin: think it has something to do with her BOYFRIEND but idk

y/n: …..

jin: so what are you and your BOYFRIEND doing today???

y/n: STOP LAMSOSO

yoongi: so it’s funny now?

y/n: are you fr?

yoongi: i’m just saying lmao

namjoon: ok lets not do this again guys!!

jk: i wish i could do life again

namjoon: ok!

so whose been paying for these flights?

hobi: could be y/n and her BOYFRIEND

y/n: hoseok

hobi: ok sorry last one i’m sorry i’m sorry

jk: do you think reggie has had to deal with heart break like this???

jimin: here he goes 🙄

hobi: bet you all my money he will be drunk in the next hour

jin: hour???

i say the next 5 minutes

namjoon: guys the card??

jimin: namjoon we don’t care??

namjoon: i will punch you in the fucking face

jimin: WOAH??????????

y/n: joon omg

hobi: LMAOSODODJFJ

yoongi: real

jin: i’ll record !!!

tae: my gf said that to me once…

hobi: ??

tae: SIGHS

y/n: i’ll record?

tae: no wtf

the punch you in the face part

y/n: hey i said that

tae: yeah 😞…. yeah you did 😞

jimin: GUYS THERE IS A FUCKING FROG IN MY REFRIGERATOR

IM NOT JOKING

WHY IS THERE A FROG IN THERE

OHMUGOF

GUYS HELP ME

OSHDJCKDJCJD

PLS OHMUGSICODODKF

HELDPDOFKDKFN

JSNDNDND

7:& nfkcjemc

PLS

WHSUSHD WHAT THE FUCKCCKDN

ITS JUMPING IN MY FUCKINH FRIFGE EW EWEW GUYS WHAT THE HELL

jin: always knew he was dirty

hobi: free frog legs

y/n: don’t die

tae: namjoon can i have the black card

yoongi: give up

jimin: THERE IS TWO OF THEM

TWO FUCKMG FROGS HELSODKNDNDNC

HSNDELP HELP

PLS OM BEGHINF

HELP ME

NAMJOON

NAMJOON

NAMJOON

NAMJOON

NmJSODKFNDNCJDJDJJCKC

EW

HELP ME

namjoon: help urself

jk: aw man :/

i feel so sorry for them

birth control ❤️

namjoon: what are you talking about

jk: namjoon i booked a fight to belgium

namjoon: im sorry?

jk: i forgive you

don’t be sorry

chin up king

hobi: tf he yapping about

jk: my fish are going to belgium

yoongi: what

jin: the rented ones?

tae: let’s kill jaehyun

y/n: the 4 billion in 2 months was jungkook?

jk: my fish are ₩20,000 per bucket

not 4 billion the heck

yoongi: wow i’m losing my mind being in this gc

hobi: we can replace you with woozi lol

yoongi: say something like that again and i will break ur neck

hobi: ok WOAH

guys do you see how aggressive he is like???

that’s not right at all

jimin: THE FROGSGUYS OLS OHMUGSICODKDKNDDNDNDN

HELDPDOFKDKDND ENDNCNFMNCNXJDNC

namjoon: jungkook have you been using the card to pay for flights

jk: hybe pays for our fights

namjoon: ok but why did you say you booked a flight to Belgium then???

hobi: its like talking to a 7yr old

jk: no

namjoon: no?

jin: wow he’s making me want to kms

hobi: the soju has taken over!

jk: birth control!

yoongi: shut the fuck up

jk: aw man

who wants fish????

yoongi left “GOLDEN”

namjoon left “GOLDEN”

jin left “GOLDEN”

tae: i’m sorry man

send me those card details later tho!

tae left “GOLDEN”

jimin: WHERE ARE YOU FUCKINGGOFING MY FUCKING FRIDGE HAS FOGS IN IT COME BACK NOW

hobi left “GOLDEN”

y/n left “GOLDEN”

jk: good talk team

--

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @indigobsessed @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @yojaschill @k4ngelz @jmnscutie

[firenati0n]

"who was that?" - a crack-ridden 500 word ficlet for @jafffacakess and a silly little addition to my unhinged Sims fic where Henry discovers something...wicked on Alex's laptop. reading that before this will make this infinitely funnier i swear. paging @indestructibleheart bc this universe is your fault fr (thank you ily) and @softboynick for the inspo! thank you all! and especially thanks to @anchoredarchangel for fact-checking my mpreg, which i steadfastly ignored. :) ilyyy

warning: SIMS-RELATED MPREG!! because wickedwhims is a menace of a mod!!! just like. a sentence or two. nothing graphic. but it is There. sorry for the mpreg debut. it won't happen again i swear!!!!

Alex’s computer is noisier than ever, and it’s driving Henry up the bloody wall. 

“What deranged scenario have you cooked up in your game now?” Henry asks, fearing the answer but knowing the outcome. “It’s only ever this loud when they’re either having gravitationally impossible sex on an appliance, or you’re testing the limits of our furniture. Our Sims neighbors must despise us.”

Alex’s resulting expression is a bad omen. “I’m…messing with some controls in the mod.”

The minute Alex leaves to use the toilet, Henry rushes to Alex’s laptop, still open and whirring. He is not prepared for what he finds.

Sim Henry and Alex are cuddling on the couch and watching a movie, the fireplace crackling. A serene evening in, all things considered. 

Sim Henry is also, by Henry’s estimate, seven months pregnant. 

Henry hears a flush and quickly goes back to his seat; he absolutely cannot wait to hear how Alex talks himself out of this one. 

Alex settles back in, a bright smile on his face. Henry is, against all odds, in deep and embarrassing love with this man.  

“How’s our baby doing?” Henry asks. 

Alex beams. “Artie’s great, he’s a toddler now, getting along so well with David and the horse.” After Henry bought Alex the pet expansion pack, all bets were off. Suddenly, Alex wanted the Horse Ranch and Aliens too. How their Sims had horses in their brownstone backyard in the city...outside the bounds of human logic, but perfectly acceptable in the game.

“No, I meant our other baby,” Henry says, working overtime to keep his face neutral. 

Alex freezes. “What baby?”

“The baby I’m carrying. Who was that, hm?”

“That’s scientifically impossible and you know it.”

“Alex, Artie is literally a science baby. My sim, however, is currently in the third trimester.” None of these words are in the English language.

Alex squints at the screen. “Damn, whose pregnant husband is that?”

“Alex.”

Alex laughs, cracking under Henry’s stare. “Listen, I’m not sorry. One day you had morning sickness and the game told me you were pregnant, which I didn’t even know was fucking possible. If I had to guess, it was the upside down fridge sixty-nine, I run that shit constantly. What should we name her, you got any suggestions?”

“You’re telling me oral got me pregnant?”

“Are you seriously nitpicking the realism of male pregnancy to my face?” Alex barrels on. “How about Cat, as a nod to both your mother and my sister? That could be cute. Art and Cat!”

“Art and Cat,” Henry echoes. “Yes, I quite like that.”

“Perfect, Cat it is,” Alex says with a grin. 

“To recap,” Henry starts. “We have a toddler, a puppy, a newborn on the way, and a horse—”

“I don’t want to hear a single fucking word about Nutter Butter,” Alex interjects. “He completes our family.”

“Of course,” Henry says seriously. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He looks at Alex curiously. “How close am I to—”

“Labor? About thirteen minutes away.”

Henry pulls his chair around next to Alex. “Perfect.”

[cassiachales]

Journal Entry Five [And Grayson Hawthorne's Very Scandalous Self]

note: i am honestly so sorry for forgetting about this fic and everything T-T. i did have some personal issues, and family troubles, but it's all well now, so expect much better updates in the future! one last part after this!!! also, content warning: a tiny bit of smut taglist: @f4iry-bell, @never-enough-novels, @reminiscentreader, @dahliawarner, @lanterns-and-daydreams,

@welcometomyblog

Sunday– I’ve begun to contemplate on what we are. I mean, you don’t kiss someone just for fun, do you? There’s got to be some feeling in there, because damn it, that kiss was everything I could ever want in a kiss. Slow and rough and honestly? I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

After that kiss, you didn’t get the whiskey.

You couldn’t have been expected to, obviously. A hot guy kissed you, and you didn’t really comprehend it until you went home (which was quite literally immediately after–you don’t think you ever saw Xander that confused).

It’s a day after, and you’re writing like your life depends on it. You need to get that kiss off of your mind, but for some reason, you can’t.

Pathetically, you’re not even sad about it.

You’re just happy, and you feel a little bit deranged because you now have the sudden urge to scribble Mrs. Hawthorne all over your journal.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Mrs. *first name* Hawthorne does have a nice ring to it though. Or maybe I’m just delusional. Could be both. Definitely couldn’t be none. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Unknown: Hopefully, this isn’t the wrong number. I wouldn’t put it past Xander to pull this sort of prank.

You’ve been raised to block unknown numbers, but this number? Yeah, you know this number.

You: Unless you’re looking for Sabrina Carpenter, this isn’t the wrong number.

Grayson: Amusing. Xander was telling me about how you know a bit of Economics.

You: Is this your version of flirting?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Then this guy goes and texts me, and I think he can’t flirt. Economics. Really? ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Grayson: Maybe.

You: If you want me to come over and help with your accounting, you just have to ask, Davenport.

Grayson: I do not ask for help.

You: Do you want to meet me today or not?

Grayson: You are going to make me ask, aren’t you?

You: Yes.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── I like to imagine that he let out a very deep exhale, and maybe even one of those sexy chuckles. What? Don’t judge me. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Grayson: Would you like to come over and help with the accounts, madam?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Fuuuuuuck.  How pathetic am I for finding one text hot?? ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Twenty minutes later, you’re in his office in Hawthorne House. You met Xander downstairs, for a brief second.

A brief second in which he gave you a wink.

“Please tell me you didn’t actually need help with the accounts. I’m too tired to do this.”

Grayson smiles, and you see dimples. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Dimples. DIMPLES. HE’S BEEN HIDING DIMPLES. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Just when I thought he couldn’t get any hotter.

“You’re doing that thing again.” He says, half smirk on his face. “Where you say your thoughts out loud.”

You act unaffected, and shrug. “Some truths cannot be hidden, Mr. Hawthorne.”

“Some truths,” he begins to agree, “cannot be hidden.” His eyes come to fully meet yours, and you feel your lips part of their own accord.

His eyes briefly drop to your lips before they meet your eyes again, cold and hot and the same time.

“Some truths,” he gets up from his seat, and walks to yours, which is right opposite his desk. He turns the chair, and kneels in front of you. “Some truths, like how I might be in love with you. Does that count?”

You were the one saying it before, but he’s saying it now. He’s kneeling in front of you, and all you want to do is kiss him.

His hands move away from where they were hanging from his knee, one securing the soft office chair you’re sitting on while the other goes to your feet. Slowly, he removes your heel.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” He says.

No, whispers.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Grayson Hawthorne knows what to do with his hands. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

His fingers travel up your leg, and you don’t even register that you’re wearing just a skirt and stockings until his fingers come close to that one place. They rest on your thigh, tapping it with four of his fingers.

“Do you want me to? Stop?”

“No.”

You don’t recognise your voice.

His hand moves further up and further within until he touches you right there, and you’re waiting, because all you want is more. His fingers are slow and languorous as they run up and down your length. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Everything about him is slow. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

They move upwards, teasing the band of your underwear and pulling it down, towards your knees and he lets go, letting it fall to your ankles.

You’re breathless. And you don’t mind.

His fingers go back to where they can torment you better, and slowly, he pushes one finger in. 

You gasp. 

“Hush, love. You can’t let anyone hear you.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── His voice is soft. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Leisurely, he brings his finger out, adding another and he pushes back in. Your heart is racing and you feel your eyes burning up, but you can’t stop looking at him below you, with his head tilted as he looks at you, slow smile and full eyes. 

Your breathing turns ragged after a while, and any longer and you feel like you might forget to breathe.

“Please.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── He’s gentle. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

His fingers move faster at your plea.

You can’t breathe anymore, and you feel like you’re reaching a high.

You’re running up a hill, waiting to go back down but you don’t want to. Not just yet.

You’re addicted to this feeling.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Grayson Hawthorne is the perfect gentleman. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Let go, love.” He whispers.

With a cry, you fall from the hill. 

You both stay still for a while, you regaining your breath and he caressing your thigh. 

It feels loving.

Slowly, he helps you up, and kneels down again to raise your underwear up to your hips again.

“I’m usually more of a gentleman.” He says, apologetically. “Bedrooms and blinds, not an office chair. But you were there, looking so beautiful, I’m afraid I couldn’t help myself.”

“You don’t need to apologise.” You say, bringing your forehead to his. They meet in the middle. 

You laugh. “I liked it, actually. Better than bedrooms and blinds.”

He chuckles, and he kisses you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Journal Entry Four

[ruumirmir]

playing wuwa rn and-

spoilers under cut

Yangyang my princess girl wife you are so softspoken and beautiful and pretty with big tiddies and an ethereal glimmer in your eyes I love you

Okay bro I see you . Zesty ass smirk and full of schemes.

But also a fakeass evil villain . Bisexual Whore. I saw those ouppy eyes. Your honor i need him sandwiched between both rovers. for science.

Same dude that tried to kill me 2 seconds ago ^^ Also its literally the werewolf tearing it's shirt open meme. Monster fuckers (me) were probably having the time of our lives. Wdym he transforms into a hot goat devil and tries to fight and scare me at the same time makes sexually charged remarks at me like shut up you want me so badly Literally Everyone wants rover but scar wants them in ways you can't even comprehend

And also Thank you wuwa for having a brutal combat mechanics I fucking love killing stuff

Also: Yuri………

Fellas is it gay to pin down a stalker who’s obsessed with you to the floor and shove a sword at their neck while your massive tits hang right over her face

I’m sorry the SHEER AMOUNT of pov shots we got of BOTH rover and camellya Giggling crying blushing kicking my feet when Rover is above me and camellya is below me I'm laughing so hard this is literally just bisexual simulator Wdym rover has two different versions of the same yandere I WANT BOTH SCAR AND CAMELLYA SO THEY CAN CATFIGHT OVER WHO GETS TO BE BONED BY ROVER FIRST Me and the two deranged stalkers that are obsessed with me for reasons not discernible but they want me carnally and aren't willing to share

Anyways . Love wuwa . My game crashes perhaps thrice every hour but peak combat gaming 👍 Saving indefinitely for scar, my deranged pookie . Honorable mention: Jiyan is very boyfriend husband thank you for listening.

[waitingformysandman]

Remember Me

Part 3

Summary: After years of being separated from your love, James (Bucky) Buchanan Barnes, you finally find him again. But he’s different. Too different. Not only does he forget himself but you and Steve as well. Can he get his memories back?

‼️Trigger Warnings will be noted if needed at the beginning of chapter.‼️

Triggers: reader not taking care of themselves, starving, self deprication, Steve Rodgers being an ass

Use of Y/N in this chapter. Sorry not sorry.

A/N: for anyone actually keeping up with this I’m so sorry this chapter took so long😂

“Of course you can stay with me Sargent. I’ve been waiting for you.”

He smiled that beautiful smile. The one you thought you’d never see again but were blessed to see so many times in the past hour.

“Don’t smile at me like that.” You blushed.

“Like what?” He asked. Genuinely confused as it was how he smiled at everything that made him genuinely happy.

“Like that. That smile you always do that gets us into trouble. The one you know would get us into trouble here. You know the one.”

There wasn’t a specific smile. It was just him. He was so unabashedly happy to be back in your presence no matter how little he remembered it hadn’t even occurred to him that he probably looked a little deranged.

He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled. Literally.

He frowned.

You furrowed your brow from the sudden change of Bucky’s emotions.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

He whispered so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. It didn’t help that he was looking at the ground.

“I don’t remember the last time I smiled.”

He looked up at you again, eyes watering.

You tentatively reached around his waist with one arm before reaching around with the other. Just in case.

He stood rigidly. His arms to his sides and breathing heavily. You pressed your whole body to him hoping your closeness would ease his tension like it used to. But it didn’t. Instead, it made everything worse.

With his one arm he wrenched you away from himself and his once gorgeous blue eyes were now steel. He wasn’t there anymore. He almost looked like him. The one that haunted your dreams now. The Winter Soldier. But he wasn’t. The Soldier wasn’t quite there. But he was there enough.

“Leave.”

Your head snapped up. Unsure you heard him correctly you asked him to repeat himself.

“I said leave. Stop waiting for someone who isn’t coming back.”

You gaped at him. Everything was ok. He was fine a minute ago. You were fixing your relationship, getting to know each other again. It was wonderful. But now.

You weren’t sure if you were going to be able to have a relationship if it was going to be like this every time you got close to him. It wouldn’t work. In no reality would that work.

“B-Bucky?” you stuttered

“I SAID GET OUT!”

He shoved you away and took hold of your wrist leading you out of the hut and quite literally threw you out.

You landed on your hands and knees with tears in your eyes.

Steve didn’t see much but he saw you get thrown out. He ran as fast as he could to get to you.

“Hey. What happened? You alright?”

You slowly got to your knees and looked at your hands. You started picking out the gravel that had embedded itself in your palms.

You slowly and calmly looked Steve directly in the eyes.

“He’s gone Steve. There isn’t anything we can do.”

Steve flinched.

“What are you talking about ‘He’s gone’? What’s going on? Y/N what happened in there!”

You got up off your knees and found Shuri near the edge of the lake.

“Thank you for all your help Shuri. I know you’ve done everything you can. But I think it’s too late. He’s gone.”

And that’s when you broke down. You couldn’t fight the tears.

You found Steve beside you and buried yourself in his chest. If Bucky wouldn’t hold you at least you knew your friend would.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2 Weeks Later

Steve was never good at speaking to women. Saying hello in and of itself was a general hardship for him.

Except for you. Since Bucky had found you all those years ago you and Steve had become good friends. Steve was grateful for that.

Steve couldn’t talk to women. But he could talk to you. You weren’t just a woman. You were his best friend and his other best friend’s…girlfriend? Fiancé?

Whatever you were to Bucky he wasn’t quite sure. But you were important enough that he had bought you a ring and you had worn it. Even after thinking he had been dead for 70 years.

He wasn’t sure if Bucky was still there anymore. If anything that had happened in Wakanda was anything to go by. Steve would bring him back though. For you.

As he wandered the halls of the Avenger’s compound alone with his thoughts Steve decided to try to visit you again. Even though you probably wouldn’t see him.

You hadn’t spoken to anyone. He hadn’t seen you leave your room or even order anything to your room. He had asked FRIDAY if you had been at least eating but you had instructed FRIDAY not to tell anyone and that “If it’s Blondie asking, tell him I’ll eat when I feel like it.”

He’d been getting that same message for months. He hoped you were still alive at this point.

Steve stopped at your door and took a breath before knocking.

Knock knock knock.

He waited a minute.

He was greeted with the deafening silence of the empty compound.

But he soon heard a rustling coming from the other side of the door. And then the sound of feet shuffling closer and closer to the door until it slowly creaked the tiniest bit open.

He was shocked. You looked awful.

“Hey Steve.”

That was it. 2 weeks of silence, not knowing if you were taking care of yourself, if you were dead and all he got was ‘Hey Steve’? Nope not ok.

“‘Hey Steve?’ That’s it? Really Y/N? That’s all I get? HEY FUCKING STEVE?!”

You flinched. You knew you deserved it. Hiding in your room for the past 2 weeks. He tried to help you. You just wanted to die.

“Yeah. Just hey Steve.”

You started to shut the door but he smashed his hand between the door and the jamb before you could close it all the way and he forced the door completely open.

You couldn’t wither away and lose a grotesque amount of weight like an average person as a super soldier. But you still managed to somehow look like it.

You motioned to the box by the couch in the living room.

“They sent me his things the day after we got back. Well, his backpack and the clothes on his back.”

Steve looked at you warily. It explained the slight look of insanity. You missed him. Too much.

You wished it was him in your room. Not a box of clothes and backpack of memories.

He needed the backpack. Wherever he was.

“You should go Steve.”

“What do you mean I should go? You need help! A therapist. Something!”

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whispered “it’s not proper.”

“THIS ISN’T THE 1940’s Y/N! BUCKY DOESN’T HAVE TO BE HERE FOR IT TO BE ‘PROPER’. AND GUESS WHAT? YOU WEREN’T EVEN MARRIED! HE HADN’T EVEN PROPOSED YET SO IT WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN PROPER ANYWAY!”

You knew he was right. You mentally rolled your eyes. He was always right.

“Ya know what? Fine. Sit here and wallow in your pain and his bloodied tattered clothes and books of faded memories. It’s not going to help bring him back!”

And with those last stinging words Steve left. Making sure to slam the door behind him like the dramatic ass he is.